#Seamus bashing

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Harry always knew he might have to sacrifice his life to defeat Voldemort but he thought that meant death. he did not think it meant being married to a former Death Eater. How will the world react when they learn of his marriage? slash HP/LM, RL/SB au OOC

[shyein3812]

I'm so late but. I truly love how expressive this father-son duo is

(Designs might be a bit incorrect, didn't get a clear view of them ingame. But. Oh well, it's a doodle aokwdijhwa)

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

In the Bleak Midwinter

By: FloreatCastellum

Prompt: In the Bleak Midwinter

Summary: ‘Twas the week before Christmas and in grand TTB tradition @floreatcastellumposts was serving up some heartbreaking, festive angst. Don’t forget your cloak as we journey into the forest with Dean. 

Read it below or on AO3 here. 

The snow is not settling on the ground. Each snowflake has a brief life of falling from the grey sky onto the scrubby grass and then vanishing at once. Dean supposes that in other weather it might be beautiful here; perhaps the sun would reflect gloriously off the small trout lake, perhaps the rushes of the river just over the bank would sway pleasantly in a warm summer breeze, perhaps the short, muddy grass would bloom with wildflowers.

But at the moment, all is washed grey with sleet, and he has that heavy coldness that comes from clothes that are always just a little bit wet. Shivering has become an unremarkable constant.

‘Accio trout,’ says Dirk, and three fish have a bewildering end to their lives as they are magically hoisted out of the cold water to struggle and twist for breath in the damp air. The ripples from them spread and then settle once more into grey, stone-like stillness.

They are setting up camp on a little island in the lake, accessible by a thin, creaking footbridge. Small wooden platforms punctuate the shore, for anglers who pay for the privilege of fishing here, Dean guesses, and a thicket of forest provides some shelter from the bitter wind which moans around them.

‘Bleak, innit,’ grumbles Ted, clearing the ground. ‘Grab that guyline, would you, son?’

Dean does so; the rope stings and leaves red marks on his numb hands but he’s used to this routine now. He twists it around a peg as it magically hammers itself into the ground, and knots it the way Dirk showed him. Ted is cursing under his breath; the frost has left the ground as hard as iron, and even with magic it’s proving difficult to get the pegs in.

The goblins speak in their harsh, guttural way, and then Gornuk says, ‘you need to descale and clean it.’

‘Yes, I know,’ says Dirk irritably. ‘You tell me every time.’

There’s more gobbledegook, and then snickering laughter; Dirk throws a dark look to Ted, who replies with an exasperated little chuckle and a shake of the head.

Dean and Ted continue putting the tent up; the sleet-snow is falling thicker now, though still not settling on the ground, so it’s with great relief that they finally get it up and are able to sit in the entrance and light a fire.

It’s a burst of colour, and Dean is briefly hypnotised by the dancing orange and flickering yellow and the rough sound of Dirk and the goblins descaling the fish nearby.

He is sick of bloody fish. Sick to death of it. It’s not as though he was someone who didn’t like fish before. His mother would stew fish, or pan fry it and serve with a mango salsa, or add to a curry, or serve up ackee and saltfish. All spice and heat and colour. It makes Dean think of the way the sun bounces off the cracked pavements of East London and the throb of music and bright but skimpy clothes. It used to make him think of a childhood holiday to Jamaica, fried fish on Hellshire Beach, golden sands and azure waters.

But out here, in a different middle of nowhere each day, they choose fish because it is the only reliable source of food available. They stick to rivers and lakes and stretches of lonely coastline because Dirk has perfected magical fishing, and they can no longer find much from raiding peoples’ allotments, so they’re guaranteed a meal. But after just a few seconds away from the fire it feels cold again, and in dim winter light it always looks grey, and there is not a hint of spice to warm his tongue. He is sick of spitting out flimsy little bones, even when he pushes his knife away from the spine like Ted showed him, even when the fish are filetted by the goblins (which is rare, because they enjoy the crunch).

He doesn’t think it’s enough, either - there’s no fat on fish, and he finds it hard to ever feel full on it, even when they manage to scavenge a few potatoes or rice to have with it. He craves red meat, daydreams about it, his mouth salivates as he imagines biting into a thick, juicy burger, or the smell of bacon frying, or the richness of Mum’s mutton curry.

He watches for a little while, as Dirk pulls a knife roughly across the fish, from the tail towards the head, sending scales flying into the air like metallic snowflakes. He turns his attention back to the fire; just looking at it warms him a little.

The low winter sun has darkened swiftly; the water of the lake seems to go black quicker than the night sky. Dean has never been much of a landscape artist. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the beauty of nature and all that (though he has found that he appreciates it far less now he is forced to live in it), but he’s found his drawings have always felt a little empty without a person in them.

So instead of the dramatic view ahead of him, of the snow falling in a flurry over black water and windswept rushes, he pulls out his sketchbook and warms up his fingers by drawing a rough, unidentifiable shadow descaling a fish.

‘That Dirk?’ Ted says after a while. He’s rubbing his hands together and blowing on them between their chatter. Dean’s own fingers are numb with cold; it’s all he can do to loosely hold the pencil.

‘I s’pose - not specifically. Just - the action. The pose.’

Dirk was squatting on the ground to clean the fish; one shoulder against a tree trunk to keep him steady. Dean had been practising the lines and perspective of it.

‘I was going to say, you’ve drawn him far too attractive.’

Dean grinned, and Ted continued.

‘I hope when you draw me you do the same; take a few pounds off, iron out some wrinkles. Make my hair a bit thicker.’

‘Sure, mate, I can do that for you.’

Ted tutted. ‘I thought you’d argue - where’s your artistic integrity? Aren’t you meant to tell me those things make me more interesting?’

Dean laughs out loud. ‘I s’pose a proper artist would.’

‘And what stops you being a proper artist?’ asks Ted. His voice is a little like a friendly teacher, or beloved uncle. He’s taken Dean under his wing a bit, which Dean appreciates.

‘Being paid,’ says Dean flatly.

‘What’re your rates?’

‘You couldn’t afford ‘em, Ted.’

Ted hisses, his shoulders shaking with restrained laughter. ‘That’s cold, son. You know I can’t wander into Gringotts.’

Dirk and the goblins return and the fish are charmed to rotate slowly over the fire. The smell of them roasting fills the cold air, and Dean watches their eyes shrivel and blacken. He thinks about Hogwarts, and how the food magically appeared, hot and fresh and deliciously prepared. He thinks about how he and Seamus used to complain about it being boring.

He would love some boring food right now. A boring shepherds pie, a dull pasta bake, a dreary fish and chips. Something warming and comforting and plain.

‘Is Potterwatch on tonight?’ asks Ted.

‘Er… I’ll grab my diary, I wrote it down…’ says Dirk, and he squeezes awkwardly past Dean and Ted to vanish into the tent.

The snow has started to settle now, Dean notices. It’s collecting at the edges of things first. The roots of sleeping, bare trees, the grooves of the little wooden fishing platform.

‘Gringotts will be suffering without that man’s organisation’ says Ted, taking a long stick and prodding at the base of the fire. ‘Legendary. Bet he was like that at school too. Bet he was Head Boy.’

‘Eh?’ comes Dirk’s voice from the depths of the tent.

‘You were Head Boy, weren’t you? After I left.’

Dirk staggers clumsily out of the tent, sniffing in the biting cold, and settles back down by the fire. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he says absent-mindedly, opening his red planner and rifling through the pages. ‘School swot, I was.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Ted told Dean. ‘Too cool for that.’

Dean grinned. ‘Same. I mean - I didn’t get Prefect, so-’

‘Blimey,’ says Dirk suddenly, looking at his diary. He looks up. ‘Merry Christmas, everyone.’

A heavy silence falls on the three wizards; just the slight spit of the fire and crackle of the fish roasting. The goblins exchange glances that seem to Dean to be exasperated smirks, and start muttering quietly in gobbledegook.

‘Oh,’ says Dean.

‘Happy Christmas,’ says Ted hollowly.

The snow falls thicker, collecting easily now, resting on that which has already fallen.

It hits Dean very hard then. He tries to reason with himself; it is just a day, that is all. If he had not known the date, the sun would have risen and set and the night passed overhead with the same dreary monotony as any other at the moment, and he would have felt no stronger.

But he does know, and he feels suspended in it. He is left bereft, devastated, almost abandoned as he thinks about what this day should be, what it has always been to him – full of warmth and excitement and joy and love, and it is like being torn apart from his family all over again. He does not dare speak, because he knows his voice will crack.

‘Not how I’d like to be spending it, no offence to you lot,’ Ted says.

Dean swallows, and nods.

‘I’ve not got any of you anything,’ says Dirk.

‘You got us some fish,’ says Ted. ‘Cheers, mate.’ It’s a weak attempt at bravado, but Dean appreciates it. He tries to salvage something of it himself, and returns to the rough sketch that was supposed to be him practising form. With fingers stinging from cold, he does what he can to improve it, to make it more recognisable, to make it look like he put some thought and care into it.

‘You’re welcome,’ Dirk says to Ted, a wobble in his voice.

It remains a rough looking sketch, but he signs it, tears it out from the pad, and leans over, holding it out to Dirk. He had nothing else to give him, in these circumstances. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he says, to Dirk’s surprised face.

‘Well - thanks, I - oh! Hah!’ He gives a spluttered, watery laugh as he looks fondly down at the drawing. ‘Thank you, Dean, really.’

Ted whistles, long and low and approving. ‘Signed and everything, Dirk, that’ll be worth a few bob in the years to come, trust me.’

‘I’ll get started on yours now, Ted,’ Dean assures him. ‘How do you want to be posed?’

‘Heroically.’

‘Lying in your camp bed snoring, got it.’

They try, they really do. They dance around it, they feign lightheartedness, they take the dark, terrible, lonely thoughts that are screaming in their brains and try to pretend that they do not in fact feel them, that they can shrug it off.

The snow falls thicker and thicker as they eat their fish (instantly cold), and retreat into the tent for scant warmth. They force laughter. Even the goblins seem to take pity and offer up a flask of something goblin made that Dean cannot pronounce but tastes, to him, like vodka.

‘You lot don’t celebrate Christmas then?’ Ted asks them.

‘No,’ says Gornuk flatly, ‘but we understand the traditions for you.’

Dean finishes the drawing of Ted, and offers it as a Christmas gift with a great flourish. He offers to repay the gift of alcohol with drawings of the goblins. They do not seem impressed. With that, they retire to their camp beds, leaving the three wizards to carry on drinking.

The alcohol liberates the unspoken words. It is Ted who raises the subject of their longing loneliness first. ‘Who’re you missing this year, Dean?’ he asks. ‘Who’s the family waiting for you to come home?’

‘My mum,’ admits Dean. ‘Sisters.’

‘Older or younger?’

‘Younger - we’re all so close, they were furious when I went away to school. I’ve never had a Christmas without them though. I wonder how it’s going for them.’

‘I wonder how my daughter’s Christmas is going,’ Ted says vaguely. ‘She’ll be… a few months along now, I suppose.’

‘You going to be a grandad, Ted?’ Dean asks.

He hums and nods slowly. ‘Apparently so.’

‘Next Christmas will be fantastic,’ Dirk tells him. ‘With a little one running round. Or, well, crawling.’

‘You’re going to be a great Grandad,’ Dean says. ‘The favourite one, I bet.’

‘Do you know, I don’t even know if there is another grandad, I don’t know much about my son-in-law, considering,’ says Ted. ‘Everything moved pretty quickly, then I had to leg it.’ He looks at Dirk. ‘Who are you missing this Christmas?’

Dirk thinks for a long time, staring at the flickering paraffin lamp on the table. When he speaks, Dean can hear the heavy regret in every long pause between words. ‘You know, I… I spent so many years thinking there was time for… all that… later. I was so…’ He took a great shuddering breath and turned to Dean. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are, you know.’

Dean doesn’t feel lucky, but he also knows these men well enough by now to wait, and listen.

‘This is awful, obviously, but you had some good school years. When we were at school, muggleborns had to prove themselves a hundred times over to be in with a shot of getting a decent job. Didn’t we, Ted?’

Ted sniffed, and nodded, his eyes fixed on the lamp too. ‘Yeah - bloody hard if you were average like me, but I tried to keep a good sense of humour and that helped more than you’d expect, just about. Wasn’t easy though. Got into my fair share of scraps.’

Dean could not imagine Ted as a fighter, but Dirk swiftly clarified the confusion. ‘They used to target us, didn’t they, Ted? Horrific, what some of them used to get away with - then they all became Death Eaters later, didn’t they? You just tried to keep your head down.’

‘Well,’ said Ted fairly, ‘or you started scandalous relationships with Slytherin pureblood girls, but you know, we all had different tactics for survival.’

Dirk laughed. ‘You were a braver man than me - I just studied hard, tried to prove I deserved my place. Got there in the end. I don’t suppose you remember Lily Evans, Ted? Later became Lily Potter?’

‘No, she was too many years below me, never really crossed paths, from what I recall.’

‘She was the year above me; her tactic was to bloody try and kill ‘em with kindness, she was friends with some of them, for a bit anyway. Obviously didn’t work for her. But she was similar to me, talented enough to get into the Slug Club, but bloody hell did she have to work for it.’ He sighed heavily. ‘And I was the same, and anyway - I got myself a decent job, and worked hard and just kept working hard… Never really accepted that I was safe from any of that, never focused on anything but work.’

‘You regret it?’ Ted asks quietly.

‘I never did before,’ says Dirk. ‘I was proud. I still am, really. And I suppose I should count myself lucky there’s no wife or kiddies at home missing me. But… it would be nice to be missed.’ He turns to Dean, and fixes him with the sort of stern stare Professor McGonagall so often gave, in what feels like a lifetime ago. ‘Don’t become a cynic like me,’ he implores. ‘Don’t let them rob you of joy too. When all this is over, make sure you actually live - really live.’

He seems to realise what he says, and for some reason this embarrasses him. He flushes, and seizes the flask of vodka-like drink, and takes a swift gulp.

Dean nods, but then lets the silence awkwardly rest over them. He knows the cause - knows what all of them are thinking. When will this be over, really? Will it ever be over? Will they see the end of it? Or will they freeze out here in this bleak and barren landscape?

He tries to think of something else to say. ‘I didn’t realise Harry’s mother was muggleborn,’ he says at last.

‘He never mentioned it? I thought you said you were in the same dorm,’ says Ted.

‘We were. He doesn’t talk about his parents. Not to me, at least. Never really mentions them.’

‘That’s a shame,’ says Dirk. ‘They were decent people. Well, Lily definitely. James Potter could be a bit of a prat to be honest.’

A moment for the words to sink in, and then they splutter with shocked laughter.

Dirk’s words swirl around Dean’s head as he tries to sleep that night. They leave a lamp on low for the scant warmth, so he stares at the warm, flickering yellow glow as he thinks about them. After the war is over, he must live. Truly live.

He should, he knows, be thinking about his family. And it’s not to say that he hasn’t been thinking about them, because of course he has. He misses them so much it is sheer agony. He wants to risk it all and apparate right back to them, just to feel them in his arms even for a brief few seconds. He yearns to hear his mother’s voice. Perhaps he will find a payphone soon, and call. Maybe that would be safe.

But in truth, it is not them that he is fixating on as he gazes into the dim lamplight.

He thinks instead of the most lively person he knows. The person that has him roaring with laughter. The person who always finds the fun in something. The person that seems to be synonymous to happiness.

Silently, without waking the others, he gets out of bed. His pencil once again glides over the page, the guidelines soft, the tone layered up, careful detail. It’s as though his hand moves of its own accord, he doesn’t really register what he’s doing except for the fact that a hundred, a thousand, a million different fragments of memory were pummelling through his brain, each one as though painted by watercolour, soft and clouded and drowning in colour and light.

How long it takes him to draw in that dim light he isn’t sure, but he eventually puts down his pencil and looks upon perhaps the best piece he has ever created. If only he had watercolours, to add to it, to bring it away from that black and white and into something truly reflective of the person he was trying to capture. He was beautiful, Dean realises. He has never considered it before.

Still as though in a daze, he pulls on his boots, swings his coat over his shoulders, and slips out of the tent. The snow is thick now, it crunches underfoot, but otherwise muffles the world so that he stepped into a strange, close silence. The branches of the trees are covered in frost and ice, a strange tinsel, glittering in his wand light.

He goes down to the wooden platform that perches just over the water edge. It has not frozen over but it is uncommonly still, and in the snow and the dark it is black looking, as though the depths of it continue forever. His fingers are numb and prickling in the chill already, but he takes out the drawing and holds it before him. It is cast in faint blue from the light of his wand.

Seamus stares back at him, with the slight upturn of his mouth and hooded eyes that Dean fiercely knows to be the pale blue of a morning sky but are here cast, by circumstance alone, in the grey lead of his pencil.

Dean wonders if it is normal to feel suspended like this when thinking about someone. He wonders if it’s normal to think this strongly about a friend. He wonders if it is normal to miss a living person so strongly it feels like grief, like the gently increasing pain of being out here in bleak weather is nothing compared to his warm absence.

He wonders why he does not want to risk anyone seeing this drawing, this outpouring of… He cannot admit the word to himself.

Instead, he crouches, and gently places the drawing on the surface of the still water. For a moment, it seems as though it hasn’t even made a ripple, but then he sees it, reaching out into the night. The drawing of Seamus floats for a while, and he watches it, hoping desperately, praying, even, that all of this will end. That spring will eventually soften this iron hard earth, that they will see one another again at last.

Gradually, the drawing sinks into the safety of the black water, unseen by anyone but Dean. He watches it vanish, and feels oddly freed.

He will see him again, he decides. And this time, as Dirk suggests, they will live. Really live.

[fic-ive-read]

Link To The Fic

[slaymybreathaway]

WASTELAND BABY! (Chapter Three)

Chapter List Masterlist 📼

Word Count: 1k

Content: sexual innuendo, friendly banter, Neville being all cute and flustered

September 5th ○ Gryffindor Dorms

-----------------------------------------

"Ron get up" Harry shook the sleeping figure of his best friend and watched as his one of his eyes opened, his long red hair still splayed across the pillow.

The rest of the boys were already up, having been woken by the bell rining in the corridoor fifteen minutes prior.

"Lemmesleeparry," Ron mumbled before turning onto his other side. Harry rolled his eyes, though he had grown used to this over years.

"Tell him that he'll miss breakfast," Dean laughed from where he was making his bed on the other side of the room. "That should get him up quick enough,"

"Or..." Seamus buttoned up his shirt before grabbing his pillow and holding it up, a michevious smirk on his face.

The other three boys realised what he was getting at and picked up their pillows, quietly walking over to Ron's bed. Seamus counted down from three on his fingers before they all jumped on the bed, bashing the sleeping boy with their pillows.

Ron covered his head with his hands, in a futile attempt to protect himself from the suprise attack. Feathers flew around the room as laughter erupted from the attackers, only stopping once Ron held up his hand in surrender. "Alright alright! I'm up, I'm up!"

Seamus, Dean, Harry and Neville retreased back to their own beds, still chuckling to themselves as a loud knock sounded on the door.

"Shay, you in there?" The sound of an Irish accent made Neville turn his head towards the door quicker than a racing broom.

"Yeah, come in Y/n" Seamus called out from where he was digging through his trunk.

The door opened and in walked y/n, carrying a small pile of clothes. She put them on Seamus' bed, not noticing Neville trying to fix his hair as much as he could.

It had been a few days since their dance on the top of the astronomy tower that had made his affections for her stronger than ever.

"Ma put these in with my stuff before we left. She leave anything with you?" She asked, peering over her brothers shoulder into his trunk. It was often that their mother got their clothes mixed up while doing the laundry.

"I don't understand why there's a charm on the stairs to the girl's dorms but not the boy's. What if we weren't decent or something?" Ron muttered grumpily as he sat on the edge of his bed, pulling on a pair of grey socks.

Y/n turned to face him. "Dumbledore trusts us more than you bunch of perverts I suppose," she let out a laugh, crossing her arms.  "Besides, if you weren't decent, Ron, I doubt there'd be much for me to look at anyways,"

A smirk climbed onto the girl's face as a chorus of "oooh" sounded across the room. A red blush started to connect the freckles on Ron's cheeks as he stuttered trying to defend himself.

Inbetween fits of laughter, Harry handed Ron the glass of water from his nightstand. "You'll need this, mate"

"For what?" He looked up at his friend in confusion.

"To cool down that burn!!" Dean called out, both of his hands cupped around his mouth to project his voice, the room erupted into laughter once more.

"Oh shut up," Ron rolled his eyes and walked straight to bathroom.

Laughter died down as everyone went back to what they were doing. Seamus pulled a couple of t-shirts out of his trunk and set them down on the bed. "Here, these are yours... and, em," he spoke embarrasedly "so is this,"

Y/n watched as Seamus picked a black bra out of his trunk like it was a contaminated object and flung it towards her. Her face immediatley went red with embarrasment as she tucked the bra away under her jumper in an attempt to hide it.

It was poinless though, because Dean let out a whistle from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "C'mon y/n/n, show and tell," he joked.

"Piss off Deano," she cracked into a laugh before picking up her other clothes from the bed and started to leave. "Hey Nev, I need to drop these back to my dorm. Will you save a seat in the Great Hall for me?"

Neville looked up from where he was studying his timetable for the year and gave y/n a smile. "Yeah of course,"

Seamus' eyes glanced between all of his friends' faces in suspicion. He waited till his sister had left the room and was out of earshot before turning back to his mates. "You guys better have had a good look because that's it," he spoke just as Ron walked back into the dorm, toothbrush in hand.

"That's what?" Harry asked, confused.

All of the boys turned their heads to Seamus for an answer.

Seamus crossed his arms before speaking "Y/n's off limits, starting now,"  he nodded decidedly.

Neville looked at Seamus with confusion. What did he mean off limits?

"What? That's crazy! we wouldn't go after your sister," Dean shot back, a look of shock on his face.

"Speak for yourself, Thomas." Ron scoffed, a smirk on his face. Seamus, who's face was turning quite red, was about to speak up before Harry interrupted him.

"Do you think if I asked her out she'd say yes. You know, because I'm The Chosen One and all," he grinned, sharing a look with Ron. Of course neither of them was serious, they were just trying to get on Seamus' nerves... and it was working.

Once Dean realised what they were doing, he chimed in too. "On second thought, she does give me the look sometimes"

Seamus almost had smoke almost blowing out of his ears at this stage, but before he exploded he turned to Neville. "I suppose you wanna get in on this aswell, Longbottom?" He asked.

A state of panic came over Neville and he could feel the colour drain from his face. "What? I don't wanna say anything!" He held his hands up.

Seamus' anger was halted as he flung one of his arms around Neville's shoulders. "See! Longbottom's the only one with the decency to not want to snog my sister!" He smiled, pointing at Neville between every word.

Nevilles face went from white as a ghost to red as a tomato in a matter of seconds and he felt his heart racing in his chest.

Only if he knew...

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Do I typically do Ron bashing? No.

Does this qualify as Ron bashing? I don’t know.

Dramione Drabble 9

The first time Ron figured out that he had a praise kink was when he went down on Lavender brown in a broom closet on the second floor corridor.

She ha called him a good boy. Had promised him anything he wanted of he kept going. And so he did, until he felt her cum in his mouth. And when he bent her over mop bucket and fucked her from behind, she kept calling him her good little Won Won. She praised the size of his cock, the feel of his hands on her.

He didn’t realized he had missed it until she died.

He never told Hermione about his praise kink. He had sort of just hoped that it would happen with them on its own. But it didn’t.

She was sweet in bed, but she didn’t ever compliment the size of his cock or call him a good boy.

As a matter of fact, outside of the bedroom, Hermione complimented very little. She didn’t hand out compliments or praises to anyone, not even Harry. And everyone complimented Harry.

But, Hermione complimented Malfoy.

She praised the way he did his job, or his knowledge on books. Once, she complimented the complexion of his skin. What was it about Draco Malfoy that brought out such out of character behavior from her? Didn’t Ron deserve some praise? Didn’t he make her feel good?

“Is that what you like, Ron?” a soft, sultry voice asked him, later that evening.

Ron looked up from his pint of beer, and into the dark, almond shaped eyes of Parvati Patil.

Seamus had left an hour earlier, leaving the two of them alone at a corner table of the pub.

She leaned into him, her silky black hair falling forward and tickling his arm. “You want me to tell you what a king you are as you eat my cunt?” Her breath was warm against his ear.

His cock twitched, quickly hardening at the sound of her proposition, the admiring tone of her voice as she said words like king and cunt.

Licking his lips, he looked down at her hand, stroking taunting lines into his bicep, promising everything Hermione couldn’t — wouldn’t — give him. “Is that what you want?” He asked, roughly, already shifting in his seat.

She nodded. “Lavender used to go on and on about that tongue of yours. Always made me jealous.” She sighed and Ron caught sight of her clenching her thighs together. Lavender’s praises always made him feel good. Even posthumously.

That was half a year ago and only two weeks after he had proposed to Hermione. It was the also the time Ron cheated on her.

Seeking what she couldn’t give him, the way he wanted it. From a woman who would, a woman who loathed something about herself. Maybe it was survivors guilt. But, with Ron, she felt better. She smiled and laughed and praised him.

When Hermione almost died, Ron had panicked. He had been a terrible fiancé, while Malfoy had been there to save her. He refused to leave her side until she woke up. Once again proving that he was a better partner than Ron.

So, while Hermione lay unresponsive in St. Mungos, Ron had called things off with Parvati.

He had been determined to make things with Hermione work out. And he knew that if Malfoy was out of the picture, then things would be fine. Perfect, actually.

But she had woken up different. And it wasn’t just the eerie color of her eyes. Sure, they made him uncomfortable, but he knew he could move past that.

What bothered him more was the fact that she felt different. Ron couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, had changed about her. He just knew it was there, and it left him uneasy when he was around her.

He did love her, he meant what he said tonight. But she was looking at him like he had let her down. Again.

And so when he found himself standing outside the door to Parvati’s flat, he told himself that it was going to be the last time. Even as she pulled him into her living room and threw him onto the couch, he swore that, after tonight, he would never cheat on Hermione again.

But there was a voice, in the back of his head, as Parvati rode his cock and called her his king, that told him he was a liar. That he could not make Hermione happy. Not now, not ever.

But he’d be damned if he let Draco Malfoy be the one to do it.

[sanityshorror]

Some tiny questions for Kelly...

-------

When is is birthdate?

What's his nationality?

What age is he locked now?

His ways of killing?

-------

....These are all for now, haha...

Kelly Duffy was born January 13, 1868 and died in February of 1895, leaving them age locked at 27. They are ethically Irish however they were both in America. Kelly's ways of killing are various, as usually the reason they are killing is due to a specific order, either related to mob activities (in which case either Killian or Cian will order the method used) or while working with Seamus on Seamus' 'artistic projects' (in which case Seamus very specifically directs Kelly exactly what to do and how). However, if left up to their own choice when 'taking care' of mob business, Kelly's favorite weapon is his hammer which they simply use to bash skulls on. The back of their ammer has been altered: the screw pryer was forged into a very deadly spike, giving the hammer two deadly sides. One side is blunt force and ensures a much more gory and drawn out, painful death; the other a long, sharp spike that will ensure a much quicker death, though still very painful.

•Kelly, Killian, Cian © @sanityshorror || Seamus © @gracilissart

[dhr-ao3]

A Man of Good Fortune

A Man of Good Fortune https://ift.tt/nYeTkq7 by magdoll24 Draco Malfoy is everything Hermione Granger despises—wealthy, privileged, and entirely too proud. To her, he’s just another pureblood with a cold heart. But the more their lives intertwine, the harder it becomes for Hermione to ignore the pull between them. Beneath Draco’s icy exterior lies a man torn between duty and desire, and no matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t resist the fire he sparks in her. For Draco, falling for Hermione is as inevitable as it is dangerous. She challenges everything he’s been raised to believe, yet she’s the only one who sees the man behind the Malfoy name. In a world where pride and prejudice threaten to keep them apart, Draco must prove that love is the greatest fortune of all—if only Hermione will let herself believe it. Words: 1971, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Blaise Zabini, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnigan, Bellatrix Lestrange, Pansy Parkinson, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, Theodore Knott Relationships: Draco Malfoy/ Hermione Granger, Ginny/ Harry Potter, Lavender Brown/ Ron Weasley Additional Tags: All the Weasleys are Grangers except Ron, Draco Malfoy as Mr. Darcy, pride and prejudice retelling, Enemies to Lovers, graphic smut, Regency Harry Potter, harry as Mr. Bingley, Ron Bashing, Ron as Mr. Wickham, Ginny as Jane Bennet, Hermione as Elizabeth Bennet, Parvati as Kitty Bennet, Luna as Mary Bennet, Lavender as Lydia Bennet, Blaise as a gender bent Georgiana Darcy, Arthur Weasley as Mr. Bennet/Mr. Granger, Molly Weasley as Mrs. Bennet/ Mrs. Granger, Cho Chang as Charlotte Lucas, Seamus Finnigan as Mr. Collins, Bellatrix Lestrange as Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Fleur Delacour as Mrs. Gardiner, Bill Weasley as Mr. Gardiner, Theodore Knott as Colonel Fitzwilliam, Scene: Fitzwilliam Darcy Hand Flex (Pride and Prejudice 2005), Library Sex via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/hadQovg September 15, 2024 at 08:02AM

[rosemaidenvixen]

FOR THE HALLOWEEN PROMPTS ,,

“your costume looks great.”

He reached out and rang the doorbell, the chiming sound followed by the soft thumb of footsteps from within. The door opened, revealing Seamus inside, who did a double take when he spotted Jim.

Oh no was the concealment stone flaking, was some part of his troll form expo–

“Dude sick,” a wide grin split Seamus’ face “Your costume looks great,”

Relief washed over him, Jim returning Seamus’ smile with one of his own  “Thanks, yours looks awesome to,”

Seamus tipped his broad-brimmed hat and puffed out his chest in pride, making the ‘Hawkins Police Department’ badge stand out “What ever lame-o, get in there,”

Jim laughed and allowed Seamus to gently push him the rest of the way inside. He was still a troll under the illusion and all, Seamus couldn’t move him even with two other people to help. When he saw his reflection in the hallway mirror as he walked by he couldn’t help but stop and admire it

He was wearing one of the uniforms from Cosmic Frontier, although he’d have to ask Gus or Hunter for the specific meaning behind it, but underneath that he was his old self. Lanky and pale with long dark hair, completely and totally human. Sure it was just an illusion, but it felt good to be back in his old skin, even if temporarily.

“Hey guys,” Jim stepped into the living room where a large crowd of people was milling around, including his group huddled around the coffee table.

“Hey Jimbo,” Toby grinned at him from behind the fake beard of his High Mage Maverik costume. The others smiling and chorusing their hellos as well. Claire and Gus were in more sci fi outfits, again from Cosmic Frontier with their meaning escaping him, Luz and Amity were dressed as Azura and Hecate, but…

Jim glanced around as he took his seat “Where’s everyone else?” 

“Steve met up with Eli and they went outside to help set up the bonfire,” Toby said “Darci, Willow, and Hunter went out with them to smash some pumpkins. Now me and Gus need to go rehearse for later. We’re combining stage magic and illusions for a magic show that will knock your socks off!”

“We’re going to saw someone in half!” Gus add eagerly. 

“And one of us will get set on fire!”

“Oh uh…” whatever words of caution Jim had were lost as the two of them rushed off “They’re going to be ok…right?”

“Hey if worst comes to worse we have a lot of practice fighting magic fires,” Luz leaned over and elbowed Claire with a grin “Ain’t that right?”

Claire flushed and Jim couldn’t help the chuckle that rose out of him at the sight “At least we learned something, trying to use fire to fight abominations just leads to flaming abominations,”

Now it was Amity’s turn to blush, both her and Claire dark red while him and Luz snickered.

“Well…let’s worry about that later,” Amity got to her feet, pulling Luz up along with her “We still have some time before the bonfire and I want to try bobbing for donuts,”

“Oh yeah,” Luz smiled “All the fun of bobbing for apples without sharing spit with everyone else at the party,”

“Sounds great,” Claire recovered and stood as well “The donuts not the sharing spit part, mind if we join you?”

“Sure, the more the merrier,”

The four of them headed outside through the door underneath the back porch. The Johnsons had a large yard that butted up against the woods. And past the grass of their lawn there was a wide open space between their house and the trees. It was pitch dark already, but Jim could still see Seasmus, Eli, and Logan piling up wood for the bonfire. A little was away from them was the pumpkin smashing group. Hunter alternating between tossing pumpkins at Darci and Willow, the girls bashing them out of the air with their bats with expert percision.

Underneath the porch half a dozen donuts hung down from the ends of yarn. On the porch above Jim spotted Steve and a few others laughing and yanking on the yarn as the people below tried to snag donuts in their mouths.

The four of them scurried up, each under their own string, making grabs at the donuts with their teeth. Dodging and weaving to try and snag them as the donuts swayed in the air, courtesy of Steve’s yanking. Sometimes they managed to get bites out, but for each bite there were least three misses. All shrieking and giggling as  their faces became more and more covered in powdered sugar from each near miss. Jim laughing and getting dusted right along with them. Sure ever since he became a troll sugar and anything sweet tasted nasty, but donuts were usually fatty enough to make them bearable, and that yarn…

Luz was the first one to finish eating her donut, opening her mouth wide enough to snag what was left after her sustained biting. Followed by Claire, then Amity, then finally Jim.

Claire giggled at him as he walked over to join them standing out on the lawn “You know the donut is supposed to go in your mouth, not all over your face,”

“Hey I’m just not a sugar person, but if you could save me that yarn…”

Claire and Luz laughed at that, giving Amity an opening to swoop in and peck Luz on the cheek.

“Well I think all this sugar makes my batata even sweeter,”

Now it was Luz’s turn to flush.

“Hey!” Steve shouted down at them from the top of the porch “No making out in front of the donuts! Take that PDA to the porch swing,”

“Screw you Steve,” Mary’s voice called out, from the angle of the porch they couldn’t see her fully, but the multicolored skirt of her Lucy costume was visible sitting on the edge of the swing  “The porch swing’s taken,”

The four of them laughed while Steve groaned and rolled his eyes “Whatever, now you ate the donuts so get in the kitchen and string some more,”

“Whatever you say Steve,” Jim called up, giving a cheeky salute.

“And Lake you’d better not eat all the yarn,”

Jim shut his mouth with a click, face growing hot, the girls all giggling.

Heading inside to the kitchen, they found an open box of donuts and a ball of yarn waiting for them and got to work. Taking seats with Jim and Luz pulling out yarn and cutting long strands of it while Claire and Amity tied the donuts. And Jim did not eat all the yarn, just the scraps and trimmings thank you very much.

After they’d been sitting in silence for a few moments, Luz spoke up “So if you don’t mind my asking, how’d you guys meet?”

“Well we first met at a fundraiser Claire’s mom, Councilwoman Nuñez, was holding at my mom’s hospital,” Jim leaned back and set his scissors aside “But we didn’t really get to know each other until we were in the school play together,”

“Wait don’t tell me the play was–”

“Yep,” Claire said with a pop and a sly grin “It was Romeo and Juleit with Jim as Romeo and me as Juliet,”

“Awww, so romantic,”

“How about you two,” Claire leaned forward “How’d you meet?”

Amity’s face instantly turned bright red and Luz let out an awkward chuckle “I maaaaayyyyy have snuck into Hexside, and then one thing led to another and Amity was bringing the principal in and he tried to dissect me,”

“Noooooo,” Amity threw herself back in her chair, hands going up to cover her face “It sounds so bad when you say it out loud,”

“Hey it’s not too different from how I met Draal,” Jim cut in “He was mad that the amulet chose me and not him, then I accidentally challenged him to a fight to the death. One thing lead to another, now he lives in my basement and we’re practically siblings,”

Amity sat up, peeking through her fingers, while Luz 'awed’ again “So you gained  an unofficial brother,”

“Well actually we might be official, I still need to double check with Blinky to see if trolls count holding you by your ankles and dunking you in a mud puddle as official adoption or unofficial,”

Claire elbowed him with a giggle “Knowing Draal he probably calls that Tuesday,”

They all laughed at that, and were still laughing when Seamus came into the room.

“Hey nerds! Put down those donuts and grab the smores makings. It’s bonfire time!”

Luz scrambled to her feet, ecstatic grin plastered all over her face “Sweet! You’re gonna love this sweet potato,”

She grabbed the marshmallows while Jim picked up the graham crackers and chocolate bars. The four of them heading back outside, running straight into Darci, Toby, Hunter, Gus, and Willow underneath the porch.

“Hey guys!” Darci called “Hurry up they’re about to start the bonfire, have you seen Mary,”

“No,” Claire replied with a small frown “Last I saw she was–”

“Guys we have a situation,” Mary strode towards them from down the porch stairs, voice firm and expression dead serious.

All of them instantly turned towards her “What is it?”

Mary glanced at her phone then back up at them “There’s a story trending about an incubus and a bird woman going around vandalizing monuments and graffitiing ‘Dismantle systems of oppression’ on everything,”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed those words.

“What….?” Luz squeaked out.

“Yeah it looks like the Christopher Columbus statue next to Arcadia Oaks Academy is missing its head,” Toby stared down at his phone with a wince.

“I’ve checked and there haven’t been any clear photos taken and a lot of people think it’s a hoax,” Mary’s face was chalky, a stark contrast to her usual spunk “But guys it’s– it’s everywhere,”

There was around five seconds of stunned silence where people checked their phones or stood there in shock, only to be broken by the sound of Jim’s phone ringing.

He raised it to his ear “Hello? Hey mom, oh, yeah I can put you on speaker,”

Jim tapped his phone twice and held it out.

“Hello?” Barbara’s voice echoed out.

“Hi Dr. Lake,” Toby replied “What’s happening?”

“I take it you kids have seen the story online?”

Uncomfortable looks simultaneously flashed on all of their faces.

“You…mean the one about Strickler and Eda?” Hunter said slowly.

Barbara sighed “Yes that one, I’m just calling to let you know that I have it under control and there’s no need for you kids to come home early or change your plans,”

Luz scooted forward “So is Eda…”

“They’re both at my house. Apparently they got to comparing troll meads with something called ‘apple blood’ and one thing lead to another,”

“Are they ok?” Willow spoke up.

“They’re both fine, just incredibly drunk,”

Jim couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, brain refusing to register his mom’s words “So when you say Strickler’s drunk–”

“I mean he and Eda nearly broke down my door holding empty spray paint cans and the severed head of Christopher Columbus, then Strickler asked me if I was single and cried when I said I was married,”

Toby shouldered up next to Jim closer to the phone “Did you tell him that he’s the one you’re married to?” 

“Well I was going to, but then he threw up in the hydrangeas and passed out,” Barbara said flatly.

Even though it wasn’t directed at him Jim couldn’t help but wince at her tone. As soon as he woke up and sobered up Strickler was in for a bad time.

“What about Eda?” Amity added, siding in next to Luz “Is she alright to?”

“She’s fine, she’s just up on the roof and refuses to come down, but her partner and her sister are working on that. Anyways, we have it under control, you kids don’t worry about it and enjoy the rest of the night,”

Jim bobbed his head “Will do,”

“Thanks kiddo, love you,”

“Love you to mom,”

With that Jim hung up the phone.

“So….we still on for the bonfire?” Gus asked.

Mary grinned “Mr. S and the owl lady are fine so I say let’s do it!”

“Yeah Eda’s with Lilith and Raine, not to mention Jim’s mom,” Luz stepped back, the tension draining from her expression “She’ll be fine. Let’s just have a normal, human Halloween,”

They nodded and murmured agreement, heading out further into the yard, where the first sparks were beginning to glow in the dark night.

[heichouux]

The Dragon and the Hare, Draco and Luna with their Patronuses.

More Draco/Luna fanart because I’m just obsessed. I'm thinking of naming the fic: The Dragon and the Hare

I don't have a blurb for it yet, so in the meantime, eat up these prompts from the fic:

soft top Luna and a slightly possessive (just enough not to be toxic) Draco <3

Seventh and Sixth Year students who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts were exempt from returning to Hogwarts and graduated automatically. However, if they wanted to return to complete/redo their final year, they could.

Draco, Luna, Hermione, Ginny, Dean and Neville all returned to complete their final year.

Draco's the only Slytherin from his year who returned

Luna Lovegood has changed and she will bite back.

Draco Malfoy redemption arc, (our boy is tired but that doesn't mean he needs to stop being sarcastic)

Hermione is a single pringle girl boss with nightmares (slight Ron bashing?)

Neville is just tryna get by

Dean is not ashamed of the hardcore smut letters Seamus sends him

Ginny is a BAMF

Found family

Forgiveness takes time, but he's willing to wait if it means he wouldn't have to be alone anymore (Draco and his abandonment issues)

The gang sit in their little corner of the party, chatting amongst themselves instead of socialising because why not

People are mean to Draco, but Luna defends him

Draco and self-hatred are best mates

'I'll break your wrists if you touch her'

'She's too good for you, Draco'

'You should be careful around him, Luna'

Mutual pining !!!

Unresolved (resolved) sexual tension

Walk him like a dog sis, walk him like a dog

Draco Malfoy discovers he really likes to cuddle

They just want a year of peace ffs, but of course, they don’t get it (PTSD, anxiety, trauma, nightmares, hurt/comfort, a crap ton of crying)

That one scene from First Daughter (2004) where she’s drunk and stripping at a bar and he gets jealous and carries her away

[t1oui]

having a hard time working on i slam the door and i'm on my way rn because i actually dislike writing angst lol. not going to stop updating ofc but updates will be sporattic like i said, even if the first few chapters had a weekly update schedule (i updated pretty much every weekend)

anyways, i thought i'd do quick intros to all the fics i have in the works (+ a re intro to istdaiomw for anyone who doesn't know what it is)

teen and up | no archive warnings apply | multiple relationships | incomplete a jegulus-centered fic with background sirius x remus and lily x evan x barty. might (probably will) also have dorlene.

takes place during the war and follows multiple povs (so far james, regulus, and - soon - evan). basically just a what-if if regulus ran away from his family and joined james & sirius at the potters'.

you can find this fic here!

teen and up | no archive warnings apply | multiple relationships | not yet published (or written 💀)

the next wip on this list is troublemakers, which is something i've had in the back of my mind for a while now. originally it centered around lily, rose, and my oc lucy, but i recently i decided to change it so the two povs are lucy and albus's.

basically, it follows (or will follow) albus, the only slytherin in his immediate family, who feels overshadowed by his famous siblings and his friends, who two of which have just become prefects. the fic will show him reconnecting with his family and basically carving out a niche for himself (and will have scorbus)

it will also follow my oc, lucy weasley-wood. she often feels like the laughingstock of her family - like albus, overshadowed by her friends and cousins: confident lily and smart rose. this fic will show her also carving out a niche for herself and might have some romance between her and another oc of mine, a deamus child named henry :)

basically just a dual pov fic about two cousins finding themselves

teen and up | character death | multiple relationships | also unpublished & not yet written

a place called home is the name of the series rewrite i'm currently plotting and i love it sm honestly lol

this rewrite would be very headcanony and would be harry's pov. basically, in this world harry was adopted and raised by the lovegood family and is the older brother of luna. also, pandora doesn't die. xenophilius is lucius malfoy's disowned older brother so luna, harry, and draco are cousins.

the main crew in this fic would be harry, hermione, blaise, and pansy with quite a bit of draco and some luna. harry, pansy, and draco are slytherins while hermione, blaise, and luna are ravenclaws. (this fic will/would have pretty heavy ron bashing for most of it but he gets a redemption arc i promise ;-; not like we really get to see it but yknow i tried)

the focus of this fic is friendship, so no one in the main crew is dating, but the endgame ships are harry x cedric, hermione x cho, and draco x blaise. pansy... she's just there. oh yeah and nuna

there's also background percy x oliver, dean x seamus, lavender x parvati, and sirius x remus. would also have a shorter side story following percy and his friends which i'll talk about next

mature | graphic depictions of violence | m/m | not published or written

so this story was originally made as a story to accompany a place called home, but it could (and might) be published by itself. it follows the story of a slytherin percy weasley through his years at hogwarts & during the war alongside his best friends penelope clearwater, oliver wood, and marcus flint. it would show percy's side of a place called home.

though this fic originally started as purely funny "haha percy and his friends are trying to keep harry alive at school" i honestly think it will be one of if not the darkest of these wips lol. sure there will also be violence in apch and istdaiomw but this is the only fic with super graphic descriptions of any violence bc percy... let's just say bro goes through some stuff.

the title is the name of a spell made by percy that is pretty important both in this fic and in a place called home :) i won't say what it's for but it mixes two latin words meaning show/reveal and secret.

~

so yeah, this is a basic idea of the bigger things i have in the works right now. as for things on the smaller side, i'm actively working on developing a sequel to my oneshot if you stayed as well as working on an evan pov muggle au with rosekiller & jegulus. might post more on those later :)

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 24/24 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Relationship, Past James Potter/Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape, Severus Snape & Draco Malfoy, Michael Corner/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Michael Corner/Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan/Ginny Weasley Characters: Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, James Potter, Regulus Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lily Moon, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Peeves (Harry Potter), Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini Additional Tags: Omega Harry Potter, Alpha Neville Longbottom, Alpha/Omega, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Voldemort (Harry Potter) Dies, Harry is a Little Shit, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Omega James Potter, Alpha Regulus Black, Lily Evans Potter Bashing, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pureblood Harry Potter, Good Severus Snape, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Protective Neville Longbottom, Alpha Michael Corner, Soulmates, Past Child Abuse, Omega Hermione Granger, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Beta Ron Weasley, Alpha Theodore Nott, Beta Blaise Zabini, Seamus Finnigan Bashing, Dean Thomas Bashing, Stalker Ginny Wealsey, Ginny Weasley Bashing, some smut, Mpreg Harry, Mpreg, Asexual Character Summary:

Harry was not your typical Omega, even among rare male Omegas. For one he has not gone into heat despite the fact that he presented as an Omega a month ago. Secondly he is able to stare down every singe Alpha and Beta at Hogwarts without flinching or breaking eye contact.

lowkey thought I was crazy until I saw the note at the end that explained they had changed Najimi’s name. I started over as my bookmark said I’d read up to 15/24 and I’m like I may not remember this cinnamon rolls name but i know that wasn’t it. 

[seriouslysam8]

Hey Sam, I wanted your opinion on this. I’ve noticed that a lot of authors will mention whenever another character likes Harry, it’s only because he’s the boy who lived, and Ginny is the only one who sees Harry as Harry. I love Ginny; she’s my girl, but does that make it seem like every other girl besides her in Hogwarts is a "fame digger"? I don’t think Harry’s the best-looking guy in school, but I think he’s pretty decent-looking. His personality, though… like how do you not fall for him? One can argue that he doesn’t give people the opportunity to know him or open up much, but the way he opened up during DA meetings and the way he took charge, like I would have fallen for Harry Potter! He’s sweet, he’s charming and charismatic without trying to be, he’s a genuine good guy, he’s loyal, and his sass just makes him even more appealing. Now, I can see him not noticing girls as much because the guy had so much going on, but does fandom really believe the other ladies at Hogwarts didn’t notice him? No one else fell for him. Or only tried to get with him because of his fame? Not all girls are like that, but it’s usually portrayed like that is the only reason girls would find Harry attractive, and it annoys me because I think Harry’s a huge catch, but whenever someone likes Harry, it’s because he’s "the boy who lived" or "the chosen one". In these same stories, Ginny has multiple guys falling for her, and it’s almost like half of the male student body wants to get with her. She’s great, and I can see the appeal of everyone finding her attractive, but it’s like people find Ginny attractive because of her looks and personality, but the only reason the female population is attracted to Harry is because of his fame? Why are females portrayed as so dense in these fanfics? And the males aren’t? Maybe there are girls who like Harry for being Harry, but he doesn’t notice them because his eyes are for Ginny only? But people don’t write that, and it’s almost like female writers are bashing female characters by saying that is the only reason someone would find Harry attractive, and everyone who likes Harry besides Ginny is dense and fame-digging. It would be so refreshing for people to like Harry for his personality or heck even his looks but he’s like “I appreciate it but I’m kind of crushing on someone right now”. Not all girls like people someone because of their fame and I hope female writes stop portraying female characters like that. Well, anyway, that was my little rant; let me know what you think.

Honestly, I can’t speak for other writers or what other readers like.

Personally, I think a lot of people liked Harry because he was famous. You saw that in HBP. I don’t think a lot of people actually know Harry in the books. He’s not popular. He mostly hangs out with only Ron and Hermione. He’s friendly with the Quidditch team. But you never see him even hanging out with the other boys in the dormitories. When Harry and Ron had their fight in GOF, Harry hung around Hermione but Ron was seen with Dean and Seamus. While Harry is really kind, he’s also standoffish and sassy and disinterested in most people.

But I do think people other than Ginny liked Harry for Harry. I refuse to believe that Parvati went to the Yule Ball with Harry because he was famous. She would be one of the few girls (given she’s in his house and year) who know him better than most. She went with him probably because she knew he was kind and for whatever other reason. I’m sure Cho thought he was at least cute or kind or something. I mean, she turned him down in GOF because she was with Cedric but she sorta kinda dated Harry afterward. But the chemistry wasn’t there and Harry was in a bad place mentally and poof it was done. I don’t think she dated him because of his fame, but probably more so because he could relate with the loss of Cedric. But she didn’t realize just how emotionally stunted our beloved cabbage is.

Personally, I’ve written Niamh as genuinely liking Harry for Harry. He helped her on the first day of class, realized how kind he was, and appreciated him for him. If she wasn’t Ginny’s friend and knew how much Ginny liked him, she probably would have genuinely flirted with him or attempted to get his attention.

[agena87]

50 questions: Alfie's Edition

(Those answers are meant to apply to post-Kiyoshi!Al, before he gets together with Wolfie & Mal)

1. What would completely break your oc? He is pretty broken already, but finding himself face to face with Kiyoshi, or even hearing his voice on the phone would finish him off, so to speak. The mere thought of him gets Al in a state of pure terror, so finding himself in contact, even indirectly, with him? It would be devastating and probably would send him right to the bottom of a few bottles.

2. What is the best thing in your oc’s life? At the moment, there aren't a lot of good things in Al's life. So, probably his family or his farm. His family, especially his mom, supports him and is always here when he hits rock bottom, though he feels like they are a bit overwhelming, and shouldn't worry about him, since he thinks he doesn't deserve it (rather, he thinks he deserves to be miserable). As for his farm, working there helps him clear his head a bit, though not enough to not turn to meds, alcohol, or a razor blade (or occasionally sex) to try to drown all the dark thoughts that plague him 24/7.

3. What is the worst thing in your oc’s life? Currently, the alcoholism, meds abuse, and self-harm. And of course, the trauma that is the cause of those self-destructive tendencies. Kiyoshi's face behind his eyelids each time he closes his eyes. The nightmares that awake him nearly every night, the physical pain from the event that caused his trauma, the event being Kiyoshi trying to kill him on their wedding day. Storytime! A few months after Wolfie left for Windenburg and met Jeb, and just a few days after Mal announced that he was going to be a father, Kiyoshi felt giddy that his “rivals” were not a threat anymore (I don’t know why Mal’s being a father meant that he would not love Al anymore, but Kiyoshi saw it that way since he was starting to become delusional at the time), and thought that it was a sign that he and Al were meant to be together forever. So, during a dinner with Al’s family, he proposed, which Al, being in denial of the situation he was in, accepted readily, to the chagrin of Agena – Al’s mother – who, while not knowing the extent of the abuse his son was enduring, knew that Kiyoshi was not the man Al should promise himself to. During the time between the engagement and the wedding, Al and Wolfie started talking again on the phone, and Al ended up inviting his best friend to the ceremony. Come the day of the wedding, Kiyoshi saw Wolfie and lost it. Enraged, he stormed the room where Al was getting dressed with the help of his aunts, Tabitha and Marie (note: he had decided to wear the dress his mother wore for her wedding with his father, Cédric – the dress she was still wearing when Cédric died from a heart attack in front of her). Kiyoshi threatened the two women, his crush on Tabitha long forgotten, to leave the room, and the moment they left and the door was locked, he started to shout at his fiancé, accusing him of cheating on him with Wolfie, and insulting him. Despite Al’s defense, Kyoshi didn’t listen and started to strangle him and shake him. After a few long minutes of this treatment, Kiyoshi wanted Al’s to stop talking (though he could barely utter a few words) and violently bashed his head against a wall twice. When people - namely Agena's cousin/parent, Seamus, and their husband, Karl, arrived at the scene, alerted by Tabi and Marie that something was off, Al was unconscious and barely breathing, while Kiyoshi was prostrated on the floor, crying and repeatedly asking for forgiveness. Despite Tabitha's best efforts to prevent her sister from seeing it - while trying to calm her girlfriend down (as the scene reminded her too much of her own brother dying on his wedding day), Agena stormed the room and, seeing her first son, lifeless, wearing the dress she wore when his father, the love of her life, died in front of her, she lost it. Usually a poor magic user, she destroyed the room in a fit of rage and would have killed Kiyoshi if Seamus hadn't managed to let her go of her magic. Al woke up, about ten days later, in the hospital.

4. Does your oc work so that they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working? Actually, his work is also his main hobby. Since he was little, he always loved gardening and taking care of plants, thanks to his mom who transmitted him her love of botany. And taking care of his many animals (he has goats, chickens, a couple cows, ducks, a pig, a few rabbits, and a horse) doesn't feel like work to him either. He doesn’t really have any other hobby nowadays. Before everything that went wrong in his life, he loved reading or exercising, but now, he can’t concentrate enough to read more than a few pages at a time, and his physical health is shite and his work is all the exercise that he can bear (when he is even able to work – luckily, he has a farm hand to help – Agena, and his younger brother Paul-Louis, also lend him a hand sometimes).

5. What is your oc reluctant to tell people? So many things. He really doesn't tell anyone anything these days. But what he would never, under any circumstances, tell to anyone, is what was really happening with Kiyoshi behind closed doors; though they can easily imagine it (though they could never imagine enough).

6. How does your oc feel about sex? Before, Al thought of sex as something beautiful, something that made you and your significant other closer, a way to show your love. Now? Now he thinks of it as a way to pass the time or forget. Maybe a bargaining chip, if needed. Something dirty, yet necessary. Or when Kiyoshi's memories come to him, something to fear, a punishment. Yet, when he feels particularly bad or down, he will take some man to bed and use them to forget. Some day he'll come to think of it as something good again, but it will take time.

7. What would your oc make a scene in public about? I don't think Al would ever make a scene in public, or even in private. Once upon a time, maybe, but now he is way too scared of the consequences of merely raising his voice. Even with his family - even his younger siblings - he stays calm, worryingly so, even when he would be justified to get a bit angry.

8. What would your oc give their life for? At this point, his life is the last of his worries, so he would give it for the most mundane thing. He really doesn't think he deserves to live. He would not actively attempt to his life, but he would use any reason to put himself in danger, save for getting in a situation where someone would hurt him voluntarily (like beat him or, God forbids!, strangle him). But anything else is fair game: jumping in front of a lorry to save a hedgehog, abusing medicines, driving while drunk, "forgetting" to eat for weeks, ...

9. What are your oc’s major flaws? His main major flaw is his self-destructiveness. Not only does it impact his health (both physical and mental), but also his relationship with his family and friends. If his family managed to keep some modicum of contact with him despite his attempts to cut himself totally from them, his friends were more or less left behind after the wedding (they still visit him regularly, but he acts as if they weren't even here most of the time).

10. What is your oc afraid of? Al is terrified of being loved in a romantic way. Familial love or friendship poses no problem, but the moment someone (read: Wolfie or Mal) suggests that they are in love with him, he freezes. For him, being loved this way is synonymous with being in danger. Kiyoshi used to tell him how much he loved him, how he was the love of his life, all the time, even when he was hurting him, or just after he hurt him. Regarding his two best friends, he knows that they would rather die than even think of raising their hand against him, but still, there’s this little voice that whispers (quite loudly) that they would hurt him, that their words are just a way to lure him in a sense of security before they destroy him. He knows it’s the trauma speaking, but still, he refuses Wolfie & Mal’s love because of the one in a gazillion chance that the voice is right.

11. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy-cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life? Alfie never was a daredevil, but he wasn’t a scaredy-cat either. Nowadays, after what happened with Kiyoshi, he is in a perpetual state of anxiety and fear. As for the most daring thing he ever did… Probably some dangerous acrobatics when he was on the cheer team, in high school.

12. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why? Al always liked to wear pretty clothes so he could feel pretty in turn. Not really a fashionista, but he’s still very into fashion. He has a very defined style and palette, very feminine and full of pink plus a little purple, though he will wear more practical/less flashy clothes around the farm. But since the wedding, he hasn’t been able to wear any long dresses, even if he used to be very fond of them. He's also an avid user of make-up, and just like clothes, he uses it to feel pretty, which, these days, he doesn’t think he is.

13. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves? Trust has become an issue since Kiyoshi. As I already said, he’s afraid of people claiming to love him romantically, and he doesn’t trust that they’re telling the truth when they do. He doesn’t even trust his own family when they say they love him or that they are worried for him, because he doesn’t believe he deserves any affection. As for new people, he distrusts them all so much that he won’t let them get too close to him, the only exceptions – if you can call it that, since he will play a role, project the image of someone in control, someone confident – are the few men he takes to bed the nights he feels the most down, the most noticeable one being his farm hand, Shawn. He, himself, became, if not completely untrustworthy, rather unreliable, and maybe a bit duplicitous.

14. What is your oc’s confidence like? Are they self-confident to the point of being arrogant? Are they terribly self-deprecating? Abysmal. He’s one of the most self-hating people you could meet. Which explains the self-destructive tendencies. Of course, he wasn’t always this self-deprecating, once again, it’s all Kiyoshi’s fault who kept – during his raging bouts – belittling him. But before, he was rather arrogant when it came to his intelligence – he is a genius, after all – or his athletics; even his looks were a source of pride at the time.

15. Is your oc expressive, or would they rather conceal their emotions? What are their typical expressions like? He’d like to be able to hide his emotions, but his face keeps betraying him and showing the torment raging inside him. His face is always sporting a sad, even desperate expression, with empty, nearly dead, eyes often lined by unshed tears, and a downturned mouth.

16. Is your oc a romantic, or are they grossed out by the simple mention of anything romantic? Though he’s scared of being romantically loved, he’s still a romantic (though he thinks he’s not). Sometimes, before the dread takes over, he longs for someone who would love him and cherish him, just like he dreamt of before. Before their relationship soured, he and Kiyoshi often went on romantic dates, or wrote each other sweet little notes that they would leave in the other’s pocket/schoolbag, or Kiyoshi would buy him flowers and he would gifts sweets to his boyfriend anytime he felt like it (which was often), and loved all of that.

17. How does your oc sleep? Do they move around a lot? What position does your oc normally sleep in? What are their typical bedding arrangements like? Despite the nightmares that plague him several times a week, he sleeps rather well, though it’s probably due to the amount of sleeping pills and other anxiolytics he takes (mixed with alcohol). He rarely sleeps less than ten hours, except when a rather gruesome nightmare wakes him up and he can’t fall back asleep (which is quite rare; most of the time, he falls back asleep, after a few minutes). He sleeps in a fetal position, usually on his left side, his knees almost to his chin as if trying to take the less room possible. His bed only has one pillow, and he burrows himself under his old, but still plump, duvet, only leaving to top of his head somewhat visible.

18. What five objects or things could be expected to be found on your oc’s person at any time? Why? His phone, some meds, a flask of vodka, a picture of his parents, and his engagement ring. The ring is the cause of many disputes with Agena and the twins (especially Cas) who don’t understand why he keeps wearing it after what happened; especially since he is so terrified of anything wedding-related. And, yes, he knows it does more hurt than anything, but he keeps it and wears it, so he remembers to never fall again for pretty promises. The meds and the vodka would also cause Agena to be concerned for her son, if she knew he had it on him (she’s not clueless enough to not know he abuses both, and she tries to help him stop, but to no avail).

19. Does your oc have any distinguishing markings? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks, freckles, etc? You know what? Let me put his diffuse map here, because he has so many scars that I couldn’t count them, also, it’s simpler to just show you.

20. What is your oc’s fight or flight response like? What sorts of things provoke it the most? Al neither flees nor fights, but he freezes when he finds himself in a scary or dangerous situation. Before, he was way more animated, and – depending on the situation – would either try to intervene and defuse the situation with words, or if he was in real danger, try to flee. He did try more than once at the start of the decline of his relationship with Kiyoshi: he would talk back, or simply leave the flat (the most notorious time being when he went to the club with Wolfie and ended up having sex with him). But after he and Kiyoshi got back together, his boyfriend would literally keep him locked up in a room so he wouldn’t leave and would slap him if he retorted. After a few months of this treatment, it was second nature to just let Kiyoshi do or say whatever he wanted and wait for him to calm down.

21. What was the worst injury your oc ever suffered? Has it had any long lasting impact on them? Al suffered so many injuries that it’s difficult to really say which is the worst, but bar from the massive concussion and crushed trachea he received at the wedding, it’s probably another that didn’t leave any visible scar. It happened during a particularly vicious fight – one during which Al, actually tried to defend himself, which he hadn’t done for about a year – one fight during which Kiyoshi, fuelled by his now ever-present jealousy, accused Al of cheating on him with Mal (which he never did; Kiyoshi, on the other hand was openly having an adulterous relationship with Hugo Villareal – who was completely oblivious of the fact that Kiyoshi already had a boyfriend). Kiyoshi, enraged by his jealousy and the fact that Al dared to raise his voice against him, threw him down the stairs. Al badly broke his pelvis, right leg, and left arm (coincidently, Agena is semi-paralyzed in the same leg, and Cédric – Al’s father – had lost the use of his left arm after an accident). Of course, as most of his injuries at the time, they were explained as accidents. His convalescence was long, and he never recuperated the complete use of his leg, two of his fingers were basically rendered useless due to nerve damage, and he suffers from chronic pain in his back (it's when he started to take pain medication – opioids – and discovered the numbing effect they had on his mind).

22. How violent is your oc? Or are they more of a pacifist? To what lengths will they go to start/avoid a conflict? It’s not that Al’s a pacifist, more than he is deadly scared of conflict since, for him, it means violence, either verbal or physical. So, as said earlier, he would never raise his voice against anyone, and he’ll let people say or do whatever pleases them to be sure not to cause conflict. If he’s a spectator to conflict between other people, he will stay just that: a spectator (still scared out of his mind that somehow, he would end up involved, or – if it is people he's close with – that someone he loves will end up hurt), incapable to do anything.

23. If your oc were to be arrested, what would it most likely be for? Is it justified? Have they actually been arrested before? Probably for being drunk in public (maybe even for driving under the influence) or for possession of drugs (though, he rarely uses “illegal” drugs, so the risk is limited here, contrary to his drinking habits). And yes, it would be justified because he’s drunk 24/7 these days. And no, he's never been arrested, which is quite a miracle knowing the number of times he drove while being totally pissed (not having any accident is another miracle), but at the same time he lives in a small town, and there aren’t a lot of cops around (which is a blessing with him being black and all; he has already enough problem without adding police violence to it).

24. How would your oc act when drunk? What about when really, really tired? As I just said in the previous question, Al is always drunk, so, he acts normally. Well, normally for him, at least. He’s a very quiet drunk, rather pessimistic (but even sober he is the very definition of the word “pessimism” so no changes here), maybe a bit more promiscuous than usual if he’s drunk on whisky instead of vodka (his go-to alcohol). Exhausted!Al is… he’s a mess. He tends to hallucinate when he’s sleep-deprived, and he's not seeing pink elephants, but Kiyoshi (what a surprise!), or even a doppelgänger of himself, husting him and/or his family and friends.

25. What would history remember your oc for? How would they become famous? Or are they the sort that would really only be appreciated long after their death? Of the four boys, Al is the less susceptible to becoming famous, or remembered by History. Or if he is, it’s only in connection with Mal or Wolfie (or more loosely Jeb), but even then, it’s only a line or two, and back to his boyfriends.

26. What are they like in the bedroom — well-rounded lover or wooden plank? Depends who he’s with, to be honest. At the start of his relationship with Kiyoshi (after the fumbling of the few first times), he was quite animated and active; he verged on being a power bottom on a lot of occasions, though he liked to be told what to do by his boyfriend. Once the relationship deteriorated, he became a wooden plank, waiting for it to be over (often mentally escaping), as he didn’t always consent (but didn’t openly refuse either – which is NOT CONSENT -, for if he tried to, Kiyoshi assumed it was because he was cheating on him). With other partners (read: one-night stands), he just takes what he needs at the moment to feel better: sometimes, he’ll need to be in total control, and sometimes he’ll need to be used. With Shawn, though he refuses to admit it, it’s also different. He’s more involved, and he takes better care of his farm hand’s needs; contrary to his one-night stands, he’ll exchange some kisses, and maybe use some generic terms of endearment.

27. Have they committed a crime before? Which one(s)? As said previously, he sometimes uses recreational drugs, and often drives while intoxicated, so yes. He also might have shoplifted some vodka bottles here and there.

28. Do they have any phobias? Marriage/weddings. Not only is he deadly afraid of getting married (he never will), but he’s also terrified of his friends or family getting married themselves.

29. What’s their favourite thing about their significant other, if they have one? At the moment he doesn’t have any (though Shawn would like to be it for him), but we know he’ll be with both Wolfie and Mal sooner or later, so… Mal: his (apparent) self-confidence, his protectiveness, his devotion to both him and Wolfie, his arms. Wolfie: the way he takes care of his loved ones, his creativity, his (rare) smile, his eyes.

30. Do/did they want children? He does want children. More precisely, he did want children, and he will want children. At the moment, he doesn’t feel like he would be a good parent (he’s right, he would be awful at it), with him being an alcoholic/addict. Later on, he would come to care for Joy, Mal’s daughter, like his own, but it’ll take time before he trusts himself with her (or for Mal to trust him with his daughter).

31. What’s their body count, if they have one? Assuming it’s not a murder-y one but a sexual one, I’d say about 20? 30? I don’t think he even knows the answer himself. After all, most men were in his life for only a few hours, and he wasn't always conscious enough to remember them.

32. How do they feel about drugs? Recreational: not really something he uses that often because they tend to make him more aware, or happy (which he doesn’t think he deserves to be/to feel), and what he wants is oblivion, numbness. Medicinal: he uses and abuses them. He likes the way they make him empty, numb, oblivious. 33. How difficult is it for your oc to get to sleep? Do they fall asleep the moment they hit the pillow, or do they have insomnia? Any reason why? Since he takes a massive amount of sleep pills, anxiolytics, and alcohol, before going to bed, he falls quickly asleep, but it’s an artificial sleep, nothing relaxing or rejuvenating.

34. Does your oc have siblings or family members in their age group? Are they close? Yes, his aunts, Marie (his father’s sister) and Tabitha (his mother’s half-sister). Marie is two years older than him, and Tabi is a few months younger. He’s close with both of them, but Tabi’s always been his best friend since they were very little.

35. Is your OC called any pet names? If not, if they *did* have one, what would it be? Do they have any pet names for someone else? Yes. Agena calls him “Baby”, and his paternal grandmother, Hortense, “Petal”. Mal’s the one who will give him the most pet names though, for he'll call him (among others, but those are the most frequent) “Sweetheart”, “Sweetie”, and “Honey Bee”.

36. Does your oc have dreams or nightmares? What are they like? Is there a recurring one? He has nightmares at least three times a week. Most of the time, they are memories of Kiyoshi and the abuse. Sometimes, it’s not him Kiyoshi hurts in them, but his family and friends. Rarely (but those are the worst, the ones which prevent him from falling back asleep), Al is the one abusing his loved ones.

37. How is your oc about medical care? Do they avoid any form of healthcare that they can, do they seek it out over every little scrape? Do they treat their injuries/illness all by themselves? Depends. Al sees a psychiatrist every week for his trauma and related mental conditions. It’s a (very) slow process, and to be honest, he doesn’t really try to get better, he just goes so he can continue to have pills (though he gets those by other – illegal – means too, because his monthly prescription would not last a week with the way he abuses his drugs). He also lies a lot to his therapist, especially about how much alcohol he actually drinks or the fact that he sometimes uses non-medicinal drugs. As for his physical health, he refuses to see anyone, mainly because he hates being touched (his family and friends learned to ask him before touching him in any way), but also because of his self-harm. He doesn’t want any medical professional seeing those; he’s scared that if they do, he’ll be locked in a psychiatric hospital against his will. If he needs painkillers (which he often does), he’ll buy over-the-counter ones, or get some from his dealer if he wants opioids. As for illnesses like cold or flu, he also deals with it himself, mainly by staying in bed with a vodka bottle or two on the night table.

38. Your oc has to make something for an art exhibition. What would they make? How terrible is it? Would they enjoy making it? Al is not the most artistic person ever, but he’s not that bad either, so it wouldn’t be terrible, but it would not revolutionize the art community either. As for what he would make, it would probably be some abstract painting representing the torment he feels inside, but people wouldn’t understand the real meaning of his piece, because he would use lots of bright colours/pastels. And he might find it somehow therapeutic, in a numbing way, so I guess he would enjoy doing it.

39. How would you describe your oc’s voice? Do they have an accent? Al never had a booming voice, but nowadays, his voice is barely louder than a whisper. Though he never knew his father and was raised by his English-speaking mother, he speaks with a faint French accent (his paternal family is originally from the French-speaking region of Windenburg).

40. What smells bring back specific memories to your oc? What are those memories like? Flowers remind him of the time he spent with his mother in their garden when he was a child, where Agena would teach him about nature, especially botany. But if flowers as a whole bring back good memories, the smell of roses put him in a state of terror, as the room he was in when Kiyoshi tried to kill him, the day of their wedding, was full of roses bouquets, and smelt like them.

41. Has your oc lost anyone close to them? How did/would they respond if so? His father, but since he wasn’t even born yet, I don’t think it counts. At this point in life, I think that if he lost his mom or one of his siblings, it would be the end of him, and he would take his own life.

42. Have they ever been abused? Do I really need to answer this?

43. When and who was your oc’s first kiss? Cassandra, during a game of “Spin the Bottle”, when they were fourteen, but he doesn’t count it. To him, his “real” first kiss, was with Kiyoshi, at age sixteen.

44. Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? Would they ever kill anybody? I mentioned more than once that Al is not violent in the least, and that he would do anything to avoid conflict/be in trouble. But there is one situation where he would actually hurt someone, or even kill them if it came to that: if someone was abusing one of his loved ones. I don’t think it would be purposeful, though. I believe the trauma would take over and he would completely disassociate and act without really meaning it; he’d watch himself going feral without being able to stop.

45. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? He doesn’t get jealous. He never really was, but the small amount of jealousy he had was annihilated by Kiyoshi. From a few weeks after they got back together after the Wolfie incident, and up to their engagement, Kiyoshi was openly cheating on Al with Hugo. He would have Hugo come to their flat even if Al was present. The first time Al saw them together, he actually threw a fit (he caught them in flagrante on the sofa when he came back from class), but Kiyoshi told him he didn’t have any right to be jealous since he was the first to cheat (Hugo was later told that Al was just a jealous flatmate who had a thing for Kiyoshi and who he used to sleep with; don’t hate Hugo, he was a victim of Kiyoshi’s manipulations too). So, Al forced himself to bury any trace of jealousy he felt.

46. What are their thoughts on marriage? As said earlier, he is now terrified of anything marriage-related, but once upon a time (well, before Kiyoshi tried to kill him), he dreamt of getting married. Since he was small, he always wanted a big wedding, and to wear a pretty dress. Nowadays, he’s convinced that any wedding he is involved in one way or another is bound to end in tragedy, based on the fact that he nearly died at his, and that his father actually died during the reception following his wedding to Agena (while she was pregnant with Alfie – but didn’t know it yet); which, obviously, is bullshit, but it’s what he believes, anyway (Agena, thinks it’s her dress that is cursed, which… who knows?).

47. Are they happy with their body? He really doesn’t have any opinion on the subject. For him, his body is just a vessel. Once upon a time, he took great care of it, but now it’s just here. He still wants it to be pretty (he doesn’t think it is), but as for many things, he’s just numb to it.

48. Who loves them with all their heart and soul? How does their love make them feel? His family, and Mal & Wolfie. For his family, even if he doesn’t feel like he deserves it, he’s quite grateful for the way they take care of him, and how they sometimes shield him from the world or defend him. As for Mal and Wolfie… as previously mentioned, he’s terrified of romantic love, so it scares the hell out of him. But later on, once he gets a bit better, and accepts to be in a relationship with them, being loved by them is the best thing in the world, though overwhelming (and yes, still terrifying sometimes).

49. Who is their most important person? His mom. Al’s always been a mama’s boy (though, he’s not really a “boy”), and thinking of not having her anymore is the worst feeling in the world.

50. Who is the person they hate the most? Why? I’d like to say that it’s Kiyoshi, which would be self-explanatory, but it’s actually himself, for way too many reasons, the main one being his supposed weakness that “allowed” Kiyoshi to abuse him for years (he’s not, anyone could fall victim to an abuser, there is nothing to do with weakness).

---

Wow, that was a lot. Now, I "only" need to finish Jeb's, Mal's, and Wolfie's... (please kill me).

[thethreebroomsticksficfest]

is the yule bash strict canon or accepting of canon divergent?

The fest is for canon compliant fics! 😊

We know there are a lot of different views of what counts as canon compliant. Here at TTB we define canon compliant as not deviating from the original seven books, including the epilogue and canon pairings.

Pairings that aren't explicitly mentioned but could reasonably occur also fit into our definition of canon compliancy (Dean/Seamus for example).

Anything beyond that, such as Cursed Child, Pottermore, things mentioned in interviews, etc. are fair game to include or disregard as canon based on personal preference!

Happy writing!🎄❤️

[kiruuuuu]

Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 6 🖊

Today is the second part of the Smoke/Mute university AU that burns so slow you might not even notice it getting warmer (oops). Please enjoy! (Rating T, slice of life, ~1.5k words)

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The first week of a semester smells different – James can’t describe it, the mix of new beginnings and old fears, of friends he hasn’t met yet, of structure and effort and motivation. A month or two in, this feeling has subsided, but right now he’s drunk on sleep deprivation, comforting familiarity, friendly faces and topics to discover. His mind juggles several syllabuses with an idea of where he’ll do a presentation on what, when he’s going to study for which exam, which professor he’ll need to suck up to. It’s electrifying, his buzzing thoughts make him feel more alive than the prospect of moving in with his girlfriend. Today, he’s best friends with absolutely everyone.

“Were you at that party?”, Seamus asks while they’re making their way to the most daunting area on campus – the section reserved for the faculty for mathematics.

“When the chav had his nose broken, you mean? Of course, it was brilliant. I would say ‘should’ve seen his face’ but I think the pics made the round.” Somehow, it was always the aspiring lawyers who threw the best bash with the fanciest alcohol and most troubled people. Not James’ crowd either, though he relishes the conversations. Most of the attendees are at least interesting. “Why, you think I did it?”

The large Scotsman by his side flashes a grin. “You definitely could’ve.”

“So could you, you’re built like a fucking truck. If someone runs into your fist, sayonara to their consciousness.”

“I’m a gentle giant”, says the man infamous on the pitch for simply running through his opponents like they’re made of cardboard. “Everyone knows it’s the small goblins to watch out for.”

“Not saying I wouldn’t have liked to punch him, but Morowa would’ve killed me. Also, I don’t do anything unprovoked.”

“You two still together?”

Irritation rises up at the question. “Yeah. Why, you got a bet to lose?”

“If I had, I’d have long lost already.” Seamus side-eyes him. “You have to admit though, you two are pretty… different.”

James considers the fact that he’ll spend the evening crashing yet another event to which he’s technically not invited while Morowa will be busy organising a fundraiser for underprivileged schoolchildren. A fair assessment, sure. “We are. But she’s grand. No idea what she sees in me, must be enough to share her living space with me after a few months though.”

“Aye, that’s nice. Moving closer to campus then?”

“That, and away from toxic masculinity. I had the choice between doing the dishes or moving, and while I could name a few profs who’d salivate at the chance of discovering a new species of mould… it’s not for me. Why do guys think it’s a good idea to live together?”

“It’s fun as long as you don’t need to fill in the holes in the walls caused by overenthusiastic frisbee tossing.”

“Or uncontrollable video game rage.”

“Or homework-induced frustration.”

“I should’ve moved in with you back then, I bet you’re all reasonable.”

Seamus shows yet another smile. “I would make you clean up after yourself.”

“Not an option then, gotcha.”

The noise level rises sharply the second they set foot in the maths library. James has stopped being surprised once he figured out why this one operates by a different set of rules to all the other libraries: it’s more of a collaborative space than a place to study in peace, there’s always someone here who studies maths full time and can help the poor souls who are stuck on their last attempt at an exam deciding their future. Besides, the maths students oftentimes need to consult their seniors themselves, asking about lectures whose mention alone causes grimaces and words of sympathy. It’s a safe haven for everyone seeking counsel on n-dimensional spaces or probability distributions, or any topic obligatory for the other natural sciences.

James had to find out early on that chemistry requires quite a bit of maths.

Half of the library is actual shelves filled with dusty books which are either mandatory for lectures and therefore as tattered as they are sought-after, or a single student once needed a specific copy for their master’s thesis and so it’s doomed to remain forgotten for eternity. There’s little in between. Tables and chairs are scattered about the rest of the room, rearranged differently every time James is here, made to match the current study groups. Miraculously, food and drink is allowed as long as there’s no mess, and plenty of students take advantage of this fact to spend their lunch break here and catch up with friends and acquaintances.

Despite the context, despite the bad memories of all-nighters pulled to merely pass, James likes it here. It’s cosy.

The two of them split up to gravitate towards their own, Seamus merely delivering something to a roommate of his while James dives head first into his posse of chem buffs who immediately make some space for him at their table. Most of them are agitated about the requirements in maths III and animatedly discussing how to divvy up the work since they’re allowed to hand in assignments in groups of three. They’re not optional this time, the prof seems to have a hard-on for participation and not only checks attendance but also forces them to do his stupid exercises by making them a requirement for the exam at all. They need to get half the points at least to be allowed to take it.

“Seems like they’re sifting hard this year”, someone whinges, “I’m thinking about delaying my bachelor’s and taking the class next year. They switch profs, the other one might not have a stick up his arse.”

“I think it’s doable”, a girl pipes up and gets elbowed in the side almost immediately.

“But only because you’re sleeping with a maths genius.”

James raises his brows at the guilty giggle and can’t help but ask: “Yeah? Who’d you pull? Don’t tell me it’s the ginger, he gets all the good ones.” In a way, helpful maths students often turn into celebrities for the other disciplines, with people greeting and waving at them whom they don’t even know. Gossip spreads fast and James prides himself on being part of the reason.

“No, no, he’s sitting over there. The one marking exams.”

He follows the direction indicated with his eyes and lands right on a lad frowning down at a stack of papers, twirling a red pen between his fingers. He’s tall and half-Indian with serious bed hair, a cute face and nondescript clothes. In a way, he seems familiar until it finally clicks and James recognises him as the poor bloke who made the mistake of asking him about his training routine. Or something like that. “You mean him?”, he clarifies and points at the visibly frustrated guy.

“Nooo, not Mark! The one next to him!”

There’s someone else sitting at the table with a similar expression, absorbed in pretty much the same task. James has never seen him before, so his attention shifts back to its previous target. “Who’s he, then?”

“That’s Mark”, the girl replies as if James should be well aware of who he is. “Don’t you know him? He’s the one who doesn’t talk.”

“He doesn’t talk?”

“Yeah! He knows absolutely everything but won’t help you, even if you ask. I once had a super simple question and he wouldn’t even look at what I’d written. For some reason, the maths people like him. I don’t think he even does maths.”

“Mark?”, someone else joins their conversation. “Yeah, he’s in electrical engineering. But he does all kinds of other lectures for fun, he’s insane.”

James tunes out while the other two discuss how chemistry compares to engineering and watches Mark as he angrily scribbles out points which likely aren’t as numerous as they need to be for a passing mark. James is familiar with the concept. Remembering how vaguely friendly their last interaction was, he wonders whether he could show off a little and involve the social recluse in a brief conversation, cementing his own image as someone who knows next to everyone, and eventually decides that yes, what the hell.

Wordlessly, he gets up and saunters over to Mark’s table where his neighbour lifts his head to peer at him curiously, whereas Mark doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. At this distance, James realises he’s not as gangly as before, so either he’s been eating more, or he actually started exercising. The thought fills him with warmth and it’s not the pure joy of knowing he might’ve positively impacted someone else’s life, not only. It’s also partly because he feels eyes in his back and knows how great it’d feel to return to his people after having conversed with a god.

Well. Kinda like that.

“Hey”, he offers after Mark hasn’t so much as glanced up after two or three seconds.

Dark brown eyes meet his for a heartbeat and James thinks this is it, kneel before me everyone for I have tamed the shrew, and then Mark simply says: “I’m busy.” And goes back to his papers.

.

“Told you”, grins the girl once he’s sat back down, his cheeks red with embarrassment, “he doesn’t talk.”

“Fair enough”, is all he replies and that’s that.