#and i hate how merlin blames himself for that answer

[tiodolma]

Arthur: "What do you think Merlin, should magic have a place in Camelot?

Merlin, who has listened to Arthur make a valid case on how his life and kingdom are always threatened by magic; Merlin, who still keeps seeing sorcerers arrested and burned just for existing inside Camelot; Merlin, who's close friends who are all politically powerful regularly call sorcerers as "fanatics", "heretics", "deranged", "desperate" and "dangerous"; Merlin, who'd been told over and over again that his worries are "merely superstition" and "nonsense"; Merlin, who'd been mocked for having "funny feelings"; Merlin, who has seen Arthur steadfastly uphold his father's policies that All Magic is Evil; Merlin, who have been told repeatedly by major magic institutions that Mordred would murder the King; Merlin who has had first hand experience of prophetic visions always coming true; Merlin, who has chosen Arthur's safety over everything else, even over Merlin's freedom: "There can be no magic in Camelot."

[cynthiav06]

The entire Fandom needs to listen to this:

Percy having a thing for Rachel was so absolutely deserved like he should have been head over heels for her. Here's why?

First meeting? Runs her through with Riptide, and where anyone would have spent the whole time yelling and arguing, Rachel quickly gauged the situation, helped Percy hide, deviated the skeletons from their orignal path all at the same time.

Percy is so awed and he should be and Rick Riordan doesn't do justice to the whole thing.

It ends on Percy saying he owes her one, almost an indication that they would meet again.

Yet Percy is terrified of running into Rachel again because he isn't sure if he could answer all her questions, most definitely because he doesn't want to drag her into the whole thing. So much so that when he sees her at Goode, he calls her "my redheaded nightmare " .

Not only has he thought of her since they last met, but he may or may not have dreamed about her, not to mention he remembered her full name after listening just once.

When he does meet her again she yet again warns him about monsters hence saving both of them.

The most important thing is Percy, who all his life has been judged blamed ridiculed, and mocked is for the very first time understood so instantaneously by Rachel. She who has been put in mortal danger every single time she meets him doesn't blame him, doesn't judge him for it, and openly takes the blame for the burning school. Even Annabeth's first response to seeing the smoke is blaming Percy despite being around him and knowing well enough for 3 years; she chooses to blame him as if she doesn't know that it's never Percy's fault. Yet Rachel, someone who he has met only twice and that too for meager few minutes, understands him and his situation so well.

All the people in the Fandom ask yourself this: Will Percy Jackson not for all that he is be absolutely head over heels and in awe of someone like that?

He can barely give her any answers at the moment, but she agrees to a death quest to help him save the world.

Throws a literal hairbrush at the Titan King and stands her ground.

Stays by him and comforts him through his depressive thoughts about dying due to the prophecy.

Falls in love with him despite knowing he has little time left.

Does her best to help him while still keeping his mind off from spiraling into dark thoughts.

Rides a literal helicopter mid-apocalypse to get to him just to warn him of the dangers?

Percy would be so absolutely over the moon in love with Rachel, were Uncle Rick not so fixated on Percabeth agenda.

The last bit is for toxic Annabeth stans:

Rachel is a genius too.

She is ambidextrous and can draw with both hands and legs; probably has exceptional memory, and her composure and quick thinking are on par with Percy himself.

I hate bringing this to looks, but I will if I get to shut up toxic fans. Annabeth is certainly beautiful, and her grey eyes are quite unique, but Rachel is the most underrated and definitely the most beautiful out of all Percy Jackson females.

The woman literally won genetic lottery with red hair and green eyes, and the only reason Uncle Rick doesn't rave about her beauty is to not make Annabeth insecure.

Also, for those overly concerned about the Oracle celibacy thing, I will address that in my next post and how it's not a problem at all. (Now posted link is here:

Expect more Pjo-centric posts along with Perachel headcanons and more.

[lostmyremembrall]

📖with prompt number 15

📖 𝟏𝟓: 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟

𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝐽𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 1𝐾 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡!

“ – which is why you can see, you need to be paying attention to the scent of the potion as well, Alphard,” Tom lectured on, briefly stretching his neck for his voice to reach the recipient of the lecture, a few metres in front of  him with his shoulders somewhat slumped, replying with occasional, half-hearted hums and ‘I understand.’

“You can probably brew a decent potion if not for your lack of attention to the–,”

Tom, however, was silenced by the branch that smacked him in the face, which had come swinging back after Alphard pushed it out of the way.

Tom crumbled to the floor of the Forbidden Forest amidst the panicked shouts of ‘oh my god’ and ‘sweet Merlin’ from his fellow Slytherins.

You dropped the basket of various mushrooms that you had collected on the journey for the potion ingredients, and jogged past Abraxas to assist Tom.

You found him covered in pine needles. His left palm, soiled, supported his weight as his right hand reached up to cover his bleeding nose.

“Jesus Christ, Al,” Abraxas, who had been casting sympathetic looks towards Alphard during Tom’s ‘lectures’, scolded him nonetheless. “That was unnecessary.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t think–,” Alphard spluttered in his futile attempt to convey his innocence. 

He turned his attention to Tom, who was accepting your handkerchief to hold against his nose. “I’m sorry, Tom,” Alphard crouched in front of him. “How many fingers?”

“I’m not concussed,” Tom growled, swiping away his hand that held up three fingers. “Six,” he answered nonetheless.

He froze, catching himself at the impossible response he’d just given. 

“Tom,” you started slowly, choosing to ignore the beginning of Alphard’s growing panic attack as he mumbled in the background. “How many numbers?” you raised two fingers.

Tom’s alarmed eyes flickered between yours and Abraxas, as if trying to decipher the correct answer from their expressions. “Four,” he decided in the end.

You shared a worrisome look with Abraxas. Alphard, now on the verge of tears, was murmuring to himself that he gave some permanent brain damage to the future Prime Minister.

“Did you not see the branch in front of you?” Abraxas pointed to the culprit, a rather thick one that left a red mark across Tom’s nose. 

You did not miss the squint Tom gave in the general direction of Abraxas’ finger.  Then it dawned on you. The several moments you or your friends cautioned Tom as he continued to read in the dimming light of a dying candle, his back hunched over a heavy book and his eyes merely a few centimetres from the text.

“Oh my god, Tom,” you breathed out a chuckle of relief, realising Tom’s ailment. “You’re not concussed. You’re just blind.”

Tom blinked up at you, clearly confused about your diagnosis when he was perfectly able to see.

“You have astigmatism,” you were laughing now at the image of him wearing glasses. Ooh, he was going to hate it. “You need glasses, silly.”

“So… does that mean…?” Alphard, who was desperately clinging onto any hope that he was not to blame, asked.

“No, it’s not your fault, Al,” Abraxas who had joined in the laughter, answered, eliciting a loud, relieved sigh from Alphard.

“Just Tom being a clutz. Isn’t that right, Tom?” he patted Tom’s arm.

Tom did not respond, but merely continued to glare at Abraxas from the corner of his eyes.

---------- It was a memorable sight the following Thursday when you saw Tom walk into the Great Hall, his pale features contrasted by a black square frame of spectacles.

You caught curious glances thrown his way as he made his way to his friends on the Slytherin table. You were certain his face grew red and his shoulders smaller as he continued the long walk amidst the stares.

By the time he made it to the table, he was slouching his shoulders in an attempt to hide his large figure behind Alphard’s.

“You look nice, Tom,” you chirped in an attempt to cheer up the poor man.

“I hate it,” he grumbled, hiding his eyes behind his left hand as his right reached for a teapot.

You had no clue on what basis Tom decided that the new feature did not complement his looks. His usual eyes looked larger behind the shimmering glass, suggesting that he was suffering from hyperopia on top of astigmatism. He looked incredible, sophisticated and intelligent, his sharp eyes ready to slice away any incongruency in the discussion at any moment.

“Why do you hate it?” it was Abraxas who voiced the question you had.

Tom’s eyes rolled away, indignantly surveying the hall for those who had the audacity to stare, or even laugh. His two fingers rose to the sides of his frame and pushed up the spectacles.

“Makes me look like a nerd,” he mumbled in a voice barely audible in the rowdy breakfast time of the Great Hall.

Your sideways glance met with Alphard’s, narrowed clearly in confusion.

“But…” Abraxas hesitated, his eyes flickering around the group’s to corroborate he wasn’t alone in this bewilderment. “You are… one… are you not?” Abraxas’ voice grew smaller by the passing second.

Tom growled. His glaring eyes darted to Abraxas, Alphard, and you, silencing the group from uttering a single syllable. His reddish cheeks had somehow grown purple with rage. In front of the visible frustration of the hunter, ready to pounce and mangle its prey, you felt your blood run cold, your archaic instinct for survival kicking in.

“Oh, look at the time,” you did not even care that you were glancing down at your watchless wrist. “Let’s go, Abraxas, Alphard. We’re running late to class.”

You grabbed Abraxas by his sleeves and motioned Alphard to go, who caught onto the wise move quickly.

“But we’re in the same class–”

You ignored Tom and skidded out of the Great Hall, Abraxas and Alphard trailing behind you closely with cold sweat running their backs.

A/N: Thanks for the request!

[tansyuduri]

Hi, do you mind if I ask, what do you think are Merlin and Arthurt’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Thanks if you want to answer....

Of course, I'll answer! I love answering questions! It's hard for me to put into words the answer to the first question. (For some reason these things are a LOT easier to express in fic) For Merlin it is devotion to the people closest to him. This is a man who will do almost anything for those he cares about. He will choose them EVERY TIME. He might struggle with it and choose something else might be more objectivly "right" and feel bad about it.

And some of his greatest struggles deciding what to do come from having to decide between what he is told might happen in teh future (AKA kid mordred and early morgana) and what to do now.

But usually he will choose the well being of the people he cares about (ESP ARTHUR) Especially if no one around him is in imidate danger (AKA Sins of the father magic statement) By season 5 this is at an extreme level and he has Arthur tunnel vision. The key thing here is this comes from a place of caring. It comes from him caring so much. Its his kindness and golden heart twisted by destiny, responsability, and some pretty horrible advice (That at least from one source is ALSO well-meaning) Hes basically told from day one that the entire responsibility for keeping Arthur safe is ALL on him. And he takes that to heart. For Arthur It's harder to pinpoint. But 99.9 percent of it is generational trauma from uther. From having a hard time expressing and processing emotions. (leading to lashing out) To the self-hate that spurs a lot of his acting out and trying to be more sure of himself. Hes a good person but doesn't always know how to express it right because he was not given the right tools. One thing I bring up in one of my fics is also that I'm pretty convinced at least subconsciously one of the reasons Arthur has such a hard time with magic is that IF it's good then in his view his very birth caused horrible things to happen to innocent people. He would self-blame. (Despite it being on uther) Despite this, he still asks himself questions about it being good. This is a bit rambly. Their best personality trait, for both of them as far as I am concerned are their hearts of gold. They are human but they are both such GOOD people. Now for their dynamics, I'm a sucker for banter so thats one thing. But I think what I like most about them both is that they can/could help heal each other. They are good for each other. Given time I think they would help each other heal from their trauma and the hardships they have faced. Just by being themselves. (I kinda live for that dynamic) We didn't get to see this as much from Arthur because so much was kept from him until the last episode. As someone who has deals with trauma a lot the idea of a pairing that can help heal each other and help each other be better is VERY appealing. We didn't get a chance to see the full extent of that in cannon though we do see a lot. One of the most important and meaningful parts of writing fanfic for me is being able to see them heal a bit, and help each other with that. (though a lot of Arthurs happens in the prequal fic to the one I am posting right now. Fair warning. The one I posting ATM mostly focuses on Merlin Trauma)

[gilded-garnet]

A Sickening Realisation

Intro: It had been two days since he'd begged you to speak to Ominis on his behalf, and every second since had been agony.

It was a cruel punishment in itself, this limbo, trapped within his own mind. Now, all he could do was await their judgement.

Theme: Angst / WC: 900

Notes: I wanted to dig into a bit of Sebastian's headspace in that period after you know what happens, so this fic is set whilst he's still waiting to hear about his fate. Contains Sebastian and Ominis angst!

Sebastian rung his hands together, pacing across the stone floor of the Undercroft. He could feel the cold beads of sweat clinging to the back of his neck.

He'd had to do it. Solomon had as good as condemned Anne to her fate. Always angry. Always blaming. Always in the way.

So, why had you looked at him like that?

He thought you'd understand, but you'd looked at him like a stranger - like he was some unpredictable beast.

He didn't have a choice, he reassured himself. He had been the one trying to help. With his uncle gone -

"There is always a choice."

Ominis' words from the Scriptorium invaded his thoughts. Damn him and his moralising, Sebastian thought bitterly. Ominis was weak, he -

He forcefully prevented his mind from going any further. Ominis wasn't weak, he was one of the strongest people Sebastian knew.

And you. You, who - if rumours were to be believed - had killed Rookwood, killed poachers, killed Ashwinders and Loyalists...how dare you stand there and judge him!

It took significant effort to master his rapidly spiralling thoughts again. What was wrong with him? Even his own mind was traitorous; he wouldn't think these things, he wasn't like that.

He stopped pacing as the sudden, sickening realisation consumed him, drowning him. The weight of it forced him to the ground on his hands and knees. He was shaking, he realised, but it was like he was disconnected from his body.

He'd killed his uncle. He'd actually done that. That was exactly the kind of person he was.

He let out a choked sob as the guilt wracked him, and he pressed his forehead into the cold stone. After his sides ached and he had no more tears to shed, he tried to regain some semblance of sanity.

Get it together, Sebastian. Think about what's important right now. Anne. Merlin, he needed to see her desperately.

"Sebastian?"

His heart jumped into his throat. Ominis.

"H-here." He hated how his voice shook with just that simple word and was selfishly pleased that Ominis couldn't see the state of him, crumpled on the floor.

"Are you - ?" Ominis began, and then cut himself off before he could finish. No doubt he'd been about to ask if he was ok, and stopped because the answer was clearly a resounding no.

Ominis walked towards him whilst Sebastian dragged himself to his feet. His body felt unbelievably heavy.

"We spoke, and I - I've spoken to Anne. She thinks you should pay for what you've done."

Sebastian held his breath.

"But... she doesn't want to turn you in. She said she wants you to live with the guilt and pain you've caused."

Sebastian exhaled the breath he'd been holding. He wasn't sure that what he was feeling could be classed as relief.

Ominis fiddled with his wand, a nervous habit. "There's more. She said...Sebastian, she doesn't want to see you again. Ever."

Sebastian felt like his blood had turned to ice.

"But...but she can't..." His voice had gone up an octave.

He would never see Anne again? She wouldn't even be dead, just out of reach. This truly was the worst torture imaginable. Life without Anne would be like living without an arm - no - like living without one half of his soul. The Dementors might as well take him away now.

"Ominis, please, you can't - you can't let..."

Ominis' eyebrows pinched together in sudden fury as he jabbed his wand against Sebastian's chest. He stumbled back, his back hitting the wall.

"Enough, Sebastian! I am tired. It took every last bit of willpower, and a healthy dose of convincing, for me not to go straight to the headmaster and tell him everything. I should never have told you about the Scriptorium and I'll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life - of what it led to!"

Sebastian could only listen in stunned silence. Ominis' wand was pressing so hard into his chest it was sure to leave a bruise.

"What you put me through in there..." Ominis' voice had become quiet. Sebastian could hear the emotion - the hurt - in it. He felt it rip another hole in his already tattered heart. "...I realised then and there, that maybe you didn't care about me at all."

Sebastian's mouth was dry. Ominis was his best friend; causing him pain was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he couldn't deny the truth that he had hurt him. Had used him.

He had been blind. His search had become all-consuming. He had lost sight of everything - and everyone - else.

Ominis withdrew his wand, standing straight and smoothing the front of his robes. Sebastian could see the emotion he witheld in the twitch of his jaw.

When he next spoke, the words were clipped and cold. "Anyway. That is the situation. You'll have to live with it."

With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the exit.

"I'm sorry, Ominis." He called after him. He meant it.

Ominis didn't turn to answer. "We'll see."

Then he was gone, leaving Sebastian alone in the dark once again. It turned out he had plenty more tears left after all.

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek

Chapter Twelve: Breathe

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, his gray eyes shining with concern.

Ginny sucked in a breath. “Nothing.”

Sirius nodded, dropping his hands from her shoulders and shoving them into his trouser pockets. He appraised her for a few moments, as though searching for the answer on her face or in her body language. She just shook her head, her eyes dropping from his face to the tattoo on the right side of his neck, where his Azkaban prison numbers were printed dark and bold on his pale skin.

It was hard to imagine Sirius sitting in prison, in solitary confinement no less, for over a decade. It was even harder to imagine anyone ever accepting Sirius as a traitor and a murderer. She couldn’t understand it, since Sirius was so kind. He cared not only about Harry, but her and Ron as well. She wondered if prison had changed him. It had to have because it didn’t make sense otherwise. He must have been so different before… it was the only explanation.

Ginny let out a breath, realizing that Sirius understood a thing or two about guilt. Sirius was the only person she even felt comfortable talking about Harry to since he was his only family and had known him since the day he was born. 

“Harry is blaming himself,” she explained. “For hurting you and Ron… for everything that happened at Grimmauld.”

Sirius nodded, not surprised in the slightest. “Guilt has a way of consuming us and stifling the logical part of our brains.”

Ginny blinked, her eyes tearing away from the prison tattoo. “I’m feeling… guilty for the first time in a long time.”

It seemed so silly. But the way Harry had adamantly insisted that he had hurt those he cared about was just too much. She hated Tom Riddle. She hated You-Know-Who. She just hated him, whoever he was. 

Sirius shook his head, a breath escaping his lips. “You were possessed, Ginny. The same way Harry was. Don’t measure your guilt on the same compass as Harry. He’ll come to realize, just as you did, that your possessions weren’t your fault. You need to keep in mind too that you have had a few years now to work these things out. Harry has had a day. Hours, really. He still has a lot to work through. You both are so young and… Merlin, this is going to make me sound so bloody old, but you’re young and stupid.”

Ginny scowled at him, her brows lowering on her face. A huff of air escaped her lips, her head shaking.

“I mean that in the most affectionate way possible,” Sirius added quickly, his lips curving just slightly. “I was young and so fucking stupid once too. I thought I was so bloody clever and smart and, and better than everyone else. I wasn’t. I was just a dumb, scared kid who thought I was a lot older and wiser than I was. I made a lot of bad choices, did a lot of bad things. I have a lot of regrets. I still reel from the guilt of my poor choices. The last thing I want you and Harry and Ron and all of you to go through is what I went through. Let go of the guilt and be better. Be smarter. Let go of the past and don’t let it strangle you. Because, Ginny, if you don’t, you’ll find yourself thirty-six years old and just wanting to lie down in a ditch and just… give up.”

Ginny blinked up at Sirius, not knowing how to respond. Sirius let out a small humorless chuckle, his tongue licking his bottom lip.

“Voldemort wants Harry and he’ll do whatever he has to in order to get him,” Sirius continued. “And Voldemort also finds you interesting. There will come a time when he will come after you as well. I’m not going to pretend that he won’t. So you have to be smart and you have to let go of the past and move forward. If you don’t, you and Harry are going to get hurt or… or even wind-up dead. You’re going to make the same poor choices that James and Lily and I all made fourteen years ago. I don’t… I can’t do that again. You lot can’t afford to go through that either.”

Ginny wrapped her arms around her stomach, her head nodding. She knew Sirius was right. Now was not the time to let emotions such as guilt get in the way. They were at war. They had to be smarter and better than their age. 

“Can we practice Occlumency?” Ginny asked.

Sirius chuckled. “Did you ask your mother?”

“Not yet,” Ginny replied, a sigh escaping from her lips. “She’ll say no. Everyone in my family treats me like I’m made of glass or something.”

“Why don’t you ask anyway? Her answer may just surprise you,” Sirius encouraged. “If she says no and then talks to me about it, I’ll talk to her. It’s a very good skill to learn, especially if he’s intrigued by you.” 

[idlyfretting]

Excerpt from another hp fic that just toppled out of my brain and into a google doc

Ao3: every door is hard to close

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“Would any of you care to explain what just happened?”

Blaise was tired. He was sure the rest of his yearmates were as well. It had been a long day. Double Transfiguration followed by Runes followed by Herbology followed by double Potions. It was a truly exhausting Thursday schedule, and this early in the year with no established rhythm yet, made it near unbearable. 

Honestly, whoever had put double Potions with Slytherins and Gryffindors at the end of day with a schedule like that was a sadist. It was an explosion waiting to happen. 

Not even one week into classes and it already had. 

Though not in the way that may have been expected.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Snape was looming. The empty classroom he’d led them to was small, more of a study room really. It was dark and gray and, like most of the abandoned rooms in the lower levels of the dungeons, felt mildly damp. Their Head of House, with his long black cloak and general air of malcontent, cut an imposing figure.

It might have been more effective if he’d made them all sit down, but they’d gathered toward the front of the room near the abandoned teacher’s desk. Slytherins knew better than to give up the high ground voluntarily. The fact that all of the fourth year students from their house were present also made it so they outnumbered him. 

Blaise let himself lean more heavily against the wall, toeing the line between relieving his tired feet and slouching disrespectfully. Snape’s eyes narrowed in his direction. 

“Mr. Zabini, you were directly involved.” He glanced to Blaise’s right where Theo was standing, hands shoved in his pockets to mask the shaking that hadn’t stopped since they’d left the Potions classroom. Blaise straightened up, not quite rolling his eyes, he wouldn’t get away with that in front of Snape, but letting them wander over the man’s shoulder. It effectively redirected his gaze from Theo onto Blaise. 

He wasn’t being subtle by any means, judging by how half of the room’s occupants eyed him pointedly, but Snape seemed irritated enough to at least go along with it if he could get some answers.

Not that Blaise wanted to give him any.

“It was my cauldron that tipped over, yes. I’m very sorry about that, sir.” He didn’t pretend to actually be contrite. It would come off as condescending, which their professor would hate more than polite but empty words. “I can assist with the clean up. I know it burned a portion of the table.”

The smell of charred wood mixed with the various ingredients that had been on their workstation was still lingering on their robes. He caught a whiff of it every time either he or Theo moved. He was lucky it was just the scent that lingered and not any actual burns. As soon as his cauldron had knocked into Theo’s, sending the contents of both spilling over their station and onto the floor, Blaise had expected a hospital wing visit was in both their futures. Boiling hot half-finished Fire Breathing Potions were known to cause minor explosions under normal brewing conditions. He and Theo were lucky to have escaped relatively unscathed. 

In reality, they were lucky they’d been working at the station directly across from Harry Potter, whose situational awareness was thankfully just as strong in the classroom as it was on the Quidditch pitch. 

Of course, Potter was part of the reason that the whole Potions lesson had fallen apart the way it did. Not that Blaise was blaming him. If he was going to blame anyone, it would be their professor. But that wasn’t really going to get him anywhere except irritated.

Which is what led to the incident in the first place.

And now he was just thinking in circles.

Merlin, he was tired.

Snape walked up to him. Blaise had grown some since last year, but he was still a good few inches shorter than the other man. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case next year. For now though, the Potions professor looked down at him with a mostly unreadable look on his face. 

“The cauldron stands have sticking charms on them Mr. Zabini.”

“Perhaps the ones on mine and Theo’s failed.”

“I reapplied the charms at all of the workstations ahead of today’s lesson. And I saw no evidence of outside interference.” Snape’s eyes were starting to narrow. “Fire Breathing Potions can be very dangerous, which you well know. So please, tell me,” Snape said, voice starting to hint at anger, “why did you intentionally sabotage your own potion?” He gestured to Theo next to him. “You put yourself and Mr. Nott at great risk, Mr. Zabini.”

Blaise was impressed Theo managed not to flinch. He’d frozen, shaking hands going still where they were hidden in his robes, but Theo was likely the only one who noticed, pressed against his side like he was. He stayed silent in the face of the professor’s questioning. He had no desire to answer, and wasn’t even sure if he could properly verbalize it anyway without discussing things they were not supposed to discuss, except under very specific circumstances.

How was Blaise supposed to explain that he’d knocked his cauldron because of Snape himself?

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read the rest of ao3

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 127: Fake Dating

"It's just annoying," Draco continued as he and Harry packed up for the night. "Literally every single party or brunch, I am hounded about when I'll start dating someone." He slammed his desk drawer closed, "I'm a bloody auror! I haven't got time to date anyone," he groaned. "And now I have this party tonight and I just know-"

"I'll go with you," Harry offered.

He broke off and stared at the other man. "What?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug, "I'll go and be your pretend boyfriend, it would be easy to fake that we're dating since we already know everything about each other."

"But," he started, tilting his head at the other man, "Then people will think we're dating."

"I thought that was the point?"

He stared at Harry, waiting for it to click. When no click was forthcoming he said "but then people would think you're dating me."

"Am I missing something here?"

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you quite understand what dating me entails."

"Ah, need to be pampered, darling? Wined and dined? Roses on Tuesday and dinner on Friday nights? I could bring you coffee in the morning-"

"I- What?" Draco spluttered. "No! No. Merlin, that's not what I'm saying, although, yes if we're being honest I want to be absolutely doted upon," he added.

"Obviously."

"Wait," he said, shaking his head to clear it, "You're missing the fucking point."

(Read more below the cut)

"Sorry," Harry said, smirking at him and not looking sorry at all, "What's the point?"

"The point," Draco said, poking him in the chest, "Is that dating me is not a pleasant experience."

"Oh come on," Harry teased, "You're not that bad."

"I am a fucking delight," he replied, exasperated, "I am saying that the press will make your life hell."

"Ah," he said, nodding, "I have no idea what dealing with the press is like."

"The press has been kind to you for at least the past decade because of the whole saving the world nonsense," Draco replied as he opened the door and held it open for Harry.

"Except for the lurid months after I came out and all sorts of lies were spread about me," Harry replied wryly.

He shook his head and headed toward the floos, "Even those were mostly flattering," he added with a lewd glance.

Harry laughed, "Whatever. My point," he said, poking him in the shoulder, "is that I'm not afraid of the press." He bumped his shoulder against Draco's, "Come on. What have you got to lose?"

"Fine," he huffed but his stomach was silently doing back flips while his heart did a complicated tap routine in his chest. "Meet me at the Screaming Goblin at 7:00pm sharp." He stepped toward the floo and turned, "Don't dress like a homeless person," he added before stepping into the floo.

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

Harry did not dress like a homeless person. In fact it was quite the opposite.

Harry looked fucking hot.

He was wearing tight dark-wash jeans and a lightweight jumper that hugged his body, making his strong, broad shoulders look even broader and his trim waist even narrowed. He'd done his hair, putting enough product in his curls to make them look artfully tousled and not a mess. And he'd arrived before Draco but instead of waiting, he'd gone in and bought Draco's friends a round and was sitting and yammering away at them.

As Draco approached, Harry turned his head and gave him a wide grin, "Hey, babe," he said, standing up and pulling out Draco's chair for him.

"Hi," he said weakly.

Harry pressed a kiss to his temple and a thrill shot through Draco's body as his brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

And thank Merlin for Harry because Draco hardly answered a question all night, hardly even heard a question all night because he was too busy focusing on the way it felt to have Harry's fingers trailing through the hair at the base of his skull. Harry talked and laughed with Draco's friends like they'd all been friends for ages as he sat with his arm resting on the back of Draco's chair.

When it was time to go, Harry helped Draco into his coat and bid all of the former Slytherins goodbye as he wrapped his arm through Draco's.

The bar wasn't far from Draco's but still Harry murmured, "Can I walk you?"

And Draco found himself charmed into saying yes.

Harry hummed, quiet now that all of Draco's friends were gone, but he still kept his arm looped through Draco's as they walked. When they arrived at Draco's front door Harry asked, "Everything alright?"

Draco's eyes snapped to his and he nodded, "I just can't believe how well they took to you."

He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and grinned up at Draco from the bottom step, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Well, I can be very charming, what can I say?"

"It's a little strange-" Draco started but Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth and every word that Draco knew disappeared.

"Don't overthink it," he said with a wink. Then he turned and started off down the sidewalk calling, "See you tomorrow," over his shoulder.

Draco was half way to bed before he realized that there was no one watching when Harry kissed him on his door step.

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

They spent the next two weeks fake dating and it was the best dating experience Draco had ever had. Harry was sweet and doting, just like Draco had said he wanted and Draco enjoyed that thoroughly.

But what he hadn't expected enjoying as much as he did was being good to Harry in return. While Draco loved to be praised and brought little treats, Harry loved to be touched. He melted when Draco ran his fingers through his hair; when Draco held his hand, he got a huge dopey grin on his face that took hours to disappear; and even a casual touch, fingers trailing over the small of his back when Draco walked by, made his lips twitch up as he leaned into the touch.

Draco was quickly, and disconcertingly, becoming addicted to those smiles.

Smiles were in short supply that day, though. The case they'd worked had been tough. Harry was scowling at the folder splayed out in front of him, his jaw clenched as he filled in paperwork.

"Hey," Draco murmured as he slipped behind him and slowly rubbed Harry's shoulders.

Harry dropped his quill and leaned back into the touch, "Hey," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Alright?" Draco asked.

He nodded, "I just hate the ones with kids."

"They're going to be alright, though," he said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "But it just brings up bad memories." He shook his head and covered Draco's hand with his own. "Want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?" he asked as he combed his fingers through Harry's soft curls.

Harry tipped his head back to look up at Draco, "this is nice," he said softly. "Want to go back to mine and I'll make you dinner? Then I'll lay with my head on your lap and you can stroke my hair?" he asked wistfully and Draco's heart stuttered in his chest.

"That sounds an awful lot like dating."

"Yeah," Harry affirmed.

"But there's no one there-"

Harry pulled away, breaking Draco's contact with him, "You're right," he said, nodding as he stood up and started shoving files into his bag. "Forget it."

"Harry-"

"No, it's fine," he said, giving him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You're right. I'm just," he shrugged helplessly. "Forget it," he repeated as he grabbed his bag and headed to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"But-" Draco started before realizing it was useless because Harry was gone. He packed up his things and headed home, this was what he should have been worried about; pretending to be dating had been a terrible idea.

When he got home he flooed Pansy and told her everything. "And now I don't know what to do," he finished, imaging Harry at home all alone make dinner.

"You're such an idiot," Pansy groaned.

"Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You do know that we all knew you thought it was fake, don't you."

"What?"

"We all knew. Potter told us that first night when we met up for drinks," she said.

He frowned, "Why? Why would he say that? And why haven't you said anything?"

"Because he asked us not to. He said he was really into you, or whatever," she said flippantly, "And that he thought he could win you over by showing you how great dating him could be. He begged us to play along."

He stared at her, mouth open, "He feels the same?" he breathed.

"Yeah," she said. "Obviously."

"I've got to go," he said, abruptly ending the call so he could floo to Harry's flat.

He stumbled out of the floo and immediately called for the other man, "Harry!" he shouted, heading toward the kitchen. "Harry!"

The other man's head appeared outside of the kitchen doorway, "Draco?" he asked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

Draco took one look at him and then closed the gap between them in three steps before wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.

Harry dropped whatever he'd been holding and it shattered at their feet but Draco didn't care because he was kissing Harry Potter and that was all that mattered at the moment. He poured his heart and soul into the kiss and Harry met him with the same.

"Me too," he gasped when he pulled back.

"What?" Harry asked, looking a bit dazed and Draco could hardly blame him.

"I'm into you too," he said. "Or whatever you said to Pansy that first night."

"I told them I was in love with you," he confessed. "You still want to own that?"

He nodded and threw himself at Harry again, kissing him and wrapping his arms tight around his neck.

The next time they parted Harry asked hopefully, "So, do you want to stay for dinner?"

"How about I stay forever?" he asked, grinning wide at the other man.

He nodded, "Even better."

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

Day 126: Arranged Marriage | Day 128: Snake

[potter-imagines]

Off Limits (Draco Malfoy)

Summary: Y/n and Draco Malfoy have been secretly crushing on one another for quite some time. Draco and his friends notoriously taunt students, especially Gryffindors. So why is Y/n, a Gryffindor, off limits? What happens when a friend attempts to harass Y/n?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Disclaimer: Anyone else on DracoTok ??? Set in fourth year (no mentions of tri-wizard tournament, sorry saving it for later) xx 

Warnings: Little bit of bullying (hp edition bullying)

Word Count: 4.5k

“Y/n… are you alright? That was your third cup of tea- you’re going to be jittering out of your seat in Charms!”

Through the bustle of her thoughts a worrisome voice tore Y/n from her daydream. The Great Hall was bouncing with energy. All houses were scarving up their lunch as the chatter filled the enormous room. Y/n sat quietly with her fellow Gryffindor classmates.

Physically she was sitting with her friends but mentally, she was across the table sitting with the bleached blonde Slytherin Prince himself. It was a recurring game between the two. Stolen admiration and stares. Words were rarely exchanged, and neither could answer why. Draco had told her once he wished she was in Slytherin, but otherwise they only spoke together when necessary. She made him nervous, and it was a feeling he didn’t like. He found himself worrying over the unfamiliar emotions he felt towards her. Both being too scared to act on their feelings, it all went unspoken.

Her attention has been drawn on him for the last 20 minutes. She casually sipped on her tea, filling her cup back up each time it grew bare. The warm of the lavender brew kissed her taste buds and slithered down her throat, emanating her body in a hug.

It wasn’t until her curly haired friend placed a hand on her shoulder that she was forced to look away.

Hermione was in the middle of an argument with Ron over who was to blame for Gryffindor losing ten points during Potions. Snape loathed the house so it was no surprise to anyone when he eagerly took points away when Ron’s cauldron exploded and split in two. Hermione paused when she noticed her best friend staring intently behind her.

Y/n sent her a quick reassuring smile and said,

“I’m fine, Hermione. Just thinking.”

Harry was busy rushing to finish his Charms paper before next period. He would add a comment every few minutes but was removed from the conversation for the most part. Ron interjected himself into the conversation as he shoveled a load of mashed potatoes into his mouth,

“More like worrying. What’s got your knickers in a twist, Y/n?”

Y/n winced as she got a full view of his meal in his open mouth. Y/n could hear Hermione gasp as she reached forward to smack Ron on the arm. He gave her a look of bewilderment, clearly not expecting her reaction.

“Ron! Dear Merlin, have some manners.” Hermione’s eyes were wide as she glared at the red head. Ron just shrugged and resumed with his meal. Steam rose from his plate and if she wasn’t so mentally withdrawn, Y/n would’ve been happily digging into the feast. There was not a day that goes by where Hogwarts meals fail to impress.

Although the uneasy feeling building in her stomach did not allow this. It was almost nauseating to be surrounded by the delicious foods. Y/n leaned forward towards the table and pursed her lips. Her e/c eyes looked past Hermione, as if she was invisible, and landed on the rambunctious table behind her. A small wisp of white flashed behind Hermione and Y/n felt her heart leap in her chest.

Her maroon sweater clung loosely to her body. It was Friday so there was no hassle over her neglecting her robes. Rubbing her thumb against the sleeve Y/n allowed herself a moment to wander. She thought of Draco. How it would feel to hold his hand. To lay in his arms and run her hands through his snow white locks. To take late night adventures with him around the castle after hours. To be his rock and hear all the little thoughts running rampant in his head. To be his.

A far off thought, yes but a girl’s allowed to imagine right?

Cautionless the young witch sitting before Y/n whipped her head around to see what was captivating her friend so much. Expecting to see a dinosaur with a shark’s head, as she had never seen her friend so mesmerized, Hermione furrowed her dark brows in confusion as she scanned the scene. All she saw was the annoying table of Slytherin’s and a gloomy, cloudy sky outside the windows. Draco and his friends were loudly talking, Hermione rolled her eyes at his. They never failed to annoy her. Most of the students sitting in the group infuriated her. Pansy was constantly harassing Hermione with her cruel words and bothersome antics. Crabbe and Goyle took more interest in pestering Ron and Harry but they still found a way to get to her as well. Draco was the worst of all cause he seemed to be in charge of all the taunting and hell. Sure, since the start of the group's fourth year in the fall he had laid off, but not completely. Snarde comments were thrown here and there but the intensity had decreased.

The oddest part of it was none of Draco’s wrath was ever placed on Y/n. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy got their insults in on her daily but never Draco. There were times Hermione caught him scolding his friends in the courtyard for a comment they made towards Y/n and it baffled her.

She hadn’t noticed she was staring- or rather searching- for very long until Pansy’s sharp, hateful eyes caught hers.

“What’d you think you’re staring at, mudblood?” The sneering Slytherin glared dangerously at Hermione. Pansy sat between Draco and Blaise, the corner of her lip lifted as if she was growling at Hermione. Her hands were clutching the wood of the table ready to pounce. The loud conversation died down as the surrounding Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s listened in, half out of amusement and the other out of fear.

“Are you gonna answer me or just sit there looking dumb with your iditot friends? Huh?” Her thin brows lifted towards the ceiling, intimidation emanating off her skin. Y/n winced in guilt. Hermione was only curious as to what caught her attention and now she was caught in Pansy’s.

“If anything dumb is the most lazy insult you could use against Hermione. If I remember correctly she’s the top of our class and if I can remember correctly, you’re number 36 out of 40. Did I get that right?”

“You filthy little blood traitor, you’re gonna regret-” Pansy had shot up like a predator ready to kill their prey. Y/n was almost certain she saw flames burning in Pansy’s dark orbs. Gasps emerged as students readied themselves for a fight. Ron was frozen in shock, no help at all, only stunned. Harry had only rejoined the conversation when Pansy’s wrath began, making him just as taken back as Ron. Y/n knew this wouldn’t end well but she couldn’t handle Pansy berating her friends for game. Just as the devilish Slytherin threw her leg over the bench, Draco snatched her arm stopping her actions all in one move. A noticeably screech came from her lips from the pain of his grip. Her fists were clenched by her side and her plans were obvious to the whole crowd. By this point, everyone in the Great Hall was watching the mess unfold.

The brunette girl snapped her head to the leader of their group. Her gaze screamed ‘let me go’ but Draco was not about to let that happen.

“Pansy, shut up and sit. You’re not gonna do anything.”

“Draco she just-” Suddenly Pansy was forced back into her seat causing a loud thump. Draco practically shoved her into compliance snarling in the process. If the scenario had been different, Y/n might’ve giggled at Pansy’s befuddlement. Even Blaise was astonished! The tension was too thick for a laugh to lighten any moods.

“I said, shut up and sit down.” His words were final. The girl now coward under his icy stare. If looks could kill, Pansy would be 6 feet under by the hands of Draco Malfoy. The silence was uncomfortable and no one wanted to be the first to make the next move. Shakily, Pansy grabbed her fork and resumed eating, pretending she didn’t just get humiliated in front of the entire school.

Y/n remained focused on Draco, studying his expression. His eye remained glued to Pansy but not in a loving way. The rage in his eyes could be seen from the moon. He was testing her, installing fear in her. When he decided his message stuck, he turned away and looked forward at the h/c witch sitting across from him. Y/n’s body shuttered at his movement and quickly looked to Hermione. A wave of electricity ran down her spine. He felt it too. Draco’s gaze stayed fixed on Y/n unable to tear away. He spent a lot of time staring at her, examining her features, although he took these stolen glances when she wasn’t looking. This time he knew she saw him, the only difference is he didn’t care. A part of him hoped her doe eyes would move back to his somber ones.

“What just happened?” Ron was the first to speak up among the table. Y/n could feel the endless pairs of eyes on her. It seemed everyone was seeking answers.

“I have no bloody clue.” She mumbled. Hermione reached out and tugged on Y/n’s hand, a silent thank you. A small gleam tugged on Y/n’s lips as she squeezed her hand back. Lifting her head she found the familiar pair of stormy eyes. This time, she didn’t look away.

Rain drops kissed the stone of the castle as a storm brewed outside. A continuous thump played on repeat. It was a soothing lull to Y/n as she walked back to her dorm from the library. The last few hours she was cozied into an armchair staring out the window. Her initial intentions were to study but after an hour of skimming through her Potions textbook and feeling more lost than ever, she gave up and lost herself in the weather.

Most students were busy socializing, it was a Saturday night after all. Harry, Ron and Hermione begged Y/n to join them at the Gryffindor party for 4th years and ups but she politely declined. Typically she’d tag along and set aside some time to enjoy herself but for the night, she preferred to be alone. Ever since her odd encounter with Draco and him defending her, she had a difficult time controlling her thoughts. He seemed to be the only thing occupying her thoughts.

The corridors were empty for the most part. A few giddy students tipsy off firewhisky rushed by her. She was approaching the staircase towards the common room when the calling of her name stopped her in her tracks.

Y/n clutched her books to her chest and she turned around. The hallway appeared empty, though the crashing rain made it hard to hear. Y/n wrote it off as her imagination and resumed her walk. Her cheeks were rosy from the harsh breeze sweeping the grounds. She decided on a detour wanting to delay her arrival in the common room. Fred and George would surely convince her to join in the partying and she wasn’t in the mood for that at the moment.

Y/n’s steps clicked against the ground filling the empty void. Bright flames created lighting in the halls guiding Y/n on her journey. Her feet carried her around effortlessly, the destination still undecided.

If it were a weekday, she wouldn’t be able to make it a few feet wandering around this late without a perfect stopping her. She was scolded a handful of times but never written up. Maybe that was because it was typically a Gryffinor or Huffelpuff who caught her. Undoubtedly a Slytherin perfect would waste no time turning her in.

Suddenly a noise caught Y/n’s attention. It wasn’t loud, almost nonexistent but Y/n knew her ears had not tricked her. It sounded like a clank, similar to when she would drop her wand on the stone floor. Y/n peeked over her shoulder but once again, it was empty. Nearly. If he hadn’t stumbled Y/n would have missed him but she didn’t.

The black cloak left the trail. His fast movements to hide caused it to wave back ever so slightly. A tiny look of his bright locks poked out from the stone corner. Y/n smiled to herself as she thought, was he following me?

The happy witch swiveled back around and gracefully continued down the corridor. She pretended to not notice the presence behind her as she led him to a spot, unbeknownst to him. Draco had no inkling that Y/n was on to him. He was sure his hiding skills were immaculate. He had been playing hide-n-go-seek with the house elves since he was a child. His only mistake was calling out to her earlier. He was desperate for a conversation, but his nerves got the best of him. Draco tiptoed a safe distance behind Y/n as she skipped down the wavy path.

She quickly rounded a corner causing Draco to pick up his pace. It wasn’t until he turned the corner that confusion graced his face.

“What?”

Without warning a hand clamped around his wrist and yanked him backwards. A door slammed loudly making Draco whip around to face his attacker. Much to his surprise the beautiful Gryffindor he had grown so infatuated with stood before him. Her h/c hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail but she still looked gorgeous. This was the first time the pair has been so close to one another. She could smell the hint of peppermint wafting off his breath. It reminded her of a potion she had smelled months ago.

Both speechless, the pair stood inches away from each other. Draco’s eyes flickered from her plump peach lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. He was hoping she’d speak first and luckily, that was exactly what she did,

“Why are you following me?”

Draco griminced growing bashful. His head fell down to his chest as he stared at the ground trying to come up with an answer. This was not an emotion he was accustomed with. Never in his life has a blush of red painted his cheeks from the actions of a girl. Especially a Gryffindor girl. He wondered how his father would react then pushed away the thought. Y/n leaned her head down forcing Draco to meet her gaze.

“What makes you think I was following you?”

She gave him a knowing look. He was caught and there was no denying that. Draco took a moment to take in the closet she had shoved them both into. It was a supply closet by the looks of it. There was one window with a small nook overlooking the vast forest extending beyond the castle grounds. A few dusty textbooks, some beakers, empty test tubes, and four old broomsticks. He hadn’t spent much time on this half of the castle. He found himself exploring a lot of new areas of the castle while following Y/n around. It started last year, the beginning of their third year. It was far easier for him to admire her from afar then risk rejection.

“Fine, I’ve been following you. I just wanted to know what you’re up to. There’s about seven parties going on tonight so you can’t tell me you weren’t invited to one.” “I was, but I didn’t feel like socializing tonight. I could ask you the exact same thing.” Draco smirked. He might not be the biggest fan of Gryffindor’s, but her playfulness and ease to serve it right back enticed him.

“Maybe I didn’t feel like socializing either.” Y/n shot him a look of skepticism. He wasn’t fooling you but you decided to play his game.

“But you want to spy on me?”

“I wouldn’t say spy-” This earned a scoff from the Gryffindor. Draco rolled his blue eyes and sighed, “Okay I just enjoy ‘spying’ on you at times. Don’t make me explain it please. You’re amusing. Quite odd too, but amusing nonetheless. I don’t know.”

Y/n could feel the heat kissing her cheeks at his words. If it was any other boy, she would tell them off or find it a bit creepy but she had been crushing on Draco now for years so she couldn’t help the rapid beating in her chest. Draco searched Y/n’s face for disapproval, he thought he had scared her off at this point. Instead, she looked up at him and gave him a teasing smirk,

“How many other girls do you spy on, Malfoy?”

The usual cocky boy was taken aback by her question. The last thing he needed was for Y/n to think of him as some sleaze. In all honesty, he had never taken genuine interest in a girl until he met you.

“Only you, I swear. No other girl in this school has held my interest as long as you.”

“Why did you stick up for me yesterday at lunch? With Pansy… I thought you two were y’know… and you made her stop. Why?”

It was hard to ignore her sadden expression. A pang struck his heart at her brokenness. He wanted to hug her but he hardly even knew her personally. It was funny in a way. He had spent almost two years observing her and taking notes over her actions but had never made a move. Quickly he shook his head,

“I’m not with Pansy, if that’s what you think. She’s quite annoying, can’t spend more than an hour around her without a bloody headache. Not exactly my type.” Y/n giggled causing Draco to smile. It was the first genuine smile he had in awhile. “But I’m not sure. I just didn’t like the way she was speaking to you. She was wrong anyways so why let her get away with it? Not that you needed my help, anyhow. You can hold your ground pretty well, love.”

Y/n’s breath caught in the back of her throat at the phrase. She heard it from her friends but never from Draco. It had a larger effect on her. A small precipitation built in her palms. The closet was becoming crammed with the growing tension between them. For the first time tonight Draco held the confidence and he took full advantage of it. Seeing her frail and shy made his heart melt and long to protect you. It was a feeling that scared him but he was willing to invite it.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Draco teased the girl like a game of cat and mouse. It was new to him, seeing her wiggle uncomfortably. Lately she has been on the upper hand. Now it was his turn. Her flustered state caused his stomach to do flip flops. She was the most adorable girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Y/n placed her hand on his stern chest keeping a small space of distance between the pair. Draco tried to deny the sensation that rushed through his bones under her touch.

“Shove off, Draco. I don’t like the way your friends treat mine.” She rolled her eyes carelessly. This was an issue she wanted to end. It hurt Y/n to see the way Draco’s friends treated hers. She didn’t like seeing Hermione upset and ashamed over her blood status, which holds no importance in her mind.

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s hard to explain but I can tell them to lay off a bit. They haven’t done anything to you have they?” His hand now rests over her own, still placed on his chest. This was the first time she had felt the warmth of his hand on hers. The butterflies in her stomach were screaming but she resisted their cries. “No, actually that’s the weird thing. I think today was the first time I’ve actually had a conflict with one of your friends. Why is that?” Draco grinned at her confused expression. All this time he spent admiring her from a distance, he never realized how breathtaking she really was up close.

“They know better, I wouldn’t allow that.”

He hadn’t fully processed his words before they slipped. Y/n’s head tilted to the side watching his profile. She waited for a chuckle, for him to admit it was a ploy. Draco’s posture stayed fixed and tense. His words held more weight than one might think. It led onto more and Y/n wanted to hear him say it. Vulnerability was an uncomfortable emotion for Draco and for the first time in a long time, he was scared.

“Why do you treat me differently, Draco? I’ve never heard you say one bad thing about me. You stood up for me yesterday. You’ve been spying on me. You look out for me… why?”

Y/n’s hand slipped away from his and folded near her lap. The tension was as thick as honey. All Draco could think about was the hint of cherry in Y/n’s perfume that was tattooed in his memory. He thought about her all summer long, never able to get the sound of her childish laughter out of his head. Spent hours in his mother’s garden sitting underneath a large cherry tree thinking about her. The only thing he wanted to change about Y/n was to make her his.

Maybe it was the cunningness of the Slytherin in him, he just couldn’t resist the opportunity. Rejection was the last thing on his mind, it was worth the risk.

In a light manner Draco pushed Y/n back a step until her back was pressed into the stone wall and the back of her head against the glass of the window. A small yelp came as Y/n was caught off guard by his sudden movements. Even through the darkness Y/n could make out Draco’s features. He looked assured- not his usual arrogant, high and mighty demeanor. Draco’s hand snaked up above Y/n’s head, giving himself stability as his face neared hers.

His free hand slowly curled around Y/n’s chin, taking his time. Y/n was positive he could hear the pounding of her heart. She reached up and pinched the skin of her arm between her finger tips. Draco stroked her cheek, brushing his thumb to her chin every few swipes. Nope, not dreaming, Y/n thought to herself.

Their eyes locked and Draco sent her a look of approval, not wanting to cross a boundary. She answered his question by closing the gap between them, leaning up on her tippy toes to meet his lips. Her hands slipped around his neck pulling him in closer. She savoured the taste of peppermint and apple on his lips. His kiss was soft, but overflowing with passion. It wasn’t sloppy but smooth, like two puzzle pieces matching up. Y/n’s lips moved with his happily. Her hands found their way to his platinum blonde hair, grazing at his soft locks earning a groan of pleasure from Draco. They continued on for another minute or so until Y/n’s need for oxygen got the better of her.

Pulling away softly Y/n rested her forehead against Draco’s. The only sound filling their air was the two of them trying to catch their breath. Drunk off adrenaline Draco’s eyes lit with glee. The happiness rising in his chest was addicting. Placing his gaze on Y/n Draco felt warmth,

“I really, really like you, Y/n. Even if you are a Gryffindor.”

Little chuckles came from both as they basked in the moment. Y/n was excited to run back to her dorm and share her night with Hermione. Hermione- what would she say?

A pit of worry settled in Y/n as she started to process what was happening. Draco noticed her shift in moods and moved his hold to her shoulders pulling her back a step. Y/n shifted her attention to the window and furrowed her eyebrows,

“What will your friends say? Your parents-” Before she could finish Draco beat her to it. He gently moved her chin to focus herself back on him. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, biting on it nervously. Draco smirked at this, her little action driving him mad. Reassuringly, Draco bent at the knees a bit and placed a tender kiss to Y/n’s lips, then her cheek, holding her face in his hands. She was beyond flustered, her cheeks had yet to stop burning since she pulled him in the room. His hair swept against her forehead as he shook his head, “I don’t give a shit about any of them right now. Just you. Please be mine, Y/n.”

Her breath caught in the back of her throat. Draco scanned her face looking for any signs of an answer. He had never officially asked a girl out before so this was all new. She could easily say no and tell all her friends about it and torture him for years. Instead, Y/n nodded ‘yes’ then reconnected her lips once again with Draco’s. He moved to get a better position but just as he did, the closet door swung open causing a ray of light to burst in.

The two separated in an instant, scared shitless over the intruder.

“Well look here Georgie! We were right about all that lip smacking! It’s Y/n and Malfoy!”

“No way!” Soon rough George Weasley popped his head into the closet with a mischievous grin. Fred folded his arms over his chest smirking at the two of you. He was already planning out who George and him should spill the news to first. The endless chuckles began to emanate when he took in the sight.

Annoyed at their presence Draco shot dagger worthy glares at the twins. She shoved his shoulder trying to diffuse his frustration. The twins were her friends after all. Draco shot one last look at the twins before sneering,

“Get lost, Weasels!”

This only escalated the giggles between the twins as they rushed out singing loudly,

“Y/n and Malfoy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G-, first comes love, then comes marriage-”

When they got far enough down the hall, Y/n sent a look to Draco. He was annoyed, not mad. Y/n moved towards him, leaning against his chest. The Slytherin Prince gripped her waist embracing her.

“If you don’t want to go back to your dorm yet, I know a spot. We’ll have to take a lot of stairs-” Y/n groaned in response earning a small laugh from Draco. “I know but I think you’ll like it. We can see the stars from up there.” Draco had only ventured up to the Astronomy Tower a handful of times though taking her there seemed to be a perfect idea. She’d love the stars, and it would give him more time to spend with her.

Y/n laced their fingers squeezing his hand. Draco pulled her hand to his lips pressing a chaste kiss to the skin.

“Okay, lead the way Draco.”

[elletromil]

4. comforting hugs, Merlahad

So even if I know you're not holding it against me for not answering this prompt sooner, I still want to say sorry for the long-ass wait. Also, I tried to make this angsty to make up for it! (or well angstier than my usual stuff... I'll let you be the judge of if i hit the mark or not (i'm betting on not))

Enjoy darling!

--

4. comforting hugs

Violent chaos.

A bang.

The cracked view of the sky.

And those words echoing in a endless loop in the following darkness.

It’s not that kind of movie

~

Harry jerks awake, drenched in sweat, his whole body locking up with residual panic.

He struggles through his breathing exercises, only managing a few calming lungful of air before he notices vibrant butterflies fluttering in the dark bedroom.

Eyes squeezing shut, a pitiful whimper escapes him when it doesn’t make the butterflies disappear. That, more than the painful memory-nightmare, makes his body tremble with fear.

It’s a while before the panic finally starts to subside. Before the simple act of breathing doesn’t feel insurmountable anymore.

Harry sits up in the bed, wiping tears from his cheeks. Later, in the harsh light of day, he knows he’ll feel frustrated and embarrassed for overreaction in such a way to something he should be used to by now. But the sun isn’t up yet and it’s easier to be honest with himself when he’s as exhausted as he feels at the moment.

He doesn’t think there will be any getting used to this.

This loss of control.

One he cannot blame on anything but his own failure.

Valentine’s signal isn’t the cause of the hallucinations that continues to plague him at random times. His brain is.

His breath catches in his chest when trying to ignore the butterflies into disappearing back into nothingness makes him notice the empty space in bed next to him.

Irrational terror and nameless guilt war each other at the realisation.

As is usually the case, guilt wins.

He stumbles out of bed, bumping his way to the living room, not caring at all if he’s being loud. It’s best if he is. That way, Merlin won’t be startled into drawing a gun to his head. Again.

Not that Harry minds. Hell, he even understands.

But he also knows how much Merlin hates himself for being on such a hair-trigger since they’ve come home.

“Another nightmare?” Merlin asks without looking at him, eyes still lost in whatever thoughts have been keeping him awake lately. Only one lamp is switched on, its light barely enough to dispel the shadows in the room. It makes the butterflies starker by contrast, but it also makes it easier to hide. Harry won’t begrudge Merlin that.

He lets himself fall onto the couch with a heavy sigh, careful not to touch Merlin. In the middle of the night like this, with their respective trauma a near tangible presence between them, physical contact is something they need to carefully build their way towards.

“Not just that,” he replies before the silence can stretch for too long. He focuses on Merlin’s profile rather than the colorful wings still flapping away at the edge of his vision. Sees him frowning and changes the subject before Merlin can ask for more than Harry is willing to share at the moment. “Legs still hurting?”

The question surprise a derisive snort out of Merlin, but judging by how he closes his eyes and throw his head back on the couch, it’s not aimed at Harry.

In quiet support, he risks a slight nudge of his elbow against Merlin’s. He’s rewarded by a small upward curve of his lips. It last for a second at most, but it’s something.

Harry continues to watch him, for no other reason that he can. That he’s allowed to. Welcomed to it.

“You would think that by now my brain would have caught up with the fact there’s nothing left there that can be hurt.” Merlin waves vaguely at his prosthetic legs, frustration clear in his voice.

More than anything, Harry wishes he could do to take that pain away from Merlin. But his own issues has given him enough perspective to know there’s not much he can do.

“Brains are dumb,” he says instead of any of the other platitudes they’ve each heard a thousand times now.

It makes Merlin chuckles, “you won’t get any arguments from me on that one.” This time, it’s Merlin who bumps their shoulder together, but instead of retreating on his side of the couch, he stays with their sides pressed together. If he wanted, Harry would only need to lean in a bit to kiss his neck. In any other situation, it would be too tempting to resist. But right now, it’s the last thing either of them need.

So instead of pressing his lips against sensitive skin, he turns properly towards Merlin and leans his forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m so tired Hamish.”

Merlin hums in agreement, one of his arm coming around Harry’s waist, loosely holding him. They’re both perfectly aware that Harry isn’t talking about anything that would be fixed with a good night of sleep.

Harry has grabbed onto Merlin’s shirt now, unsure how exactly it happened. But it’s hard to care when he feels Merlin press a gentle kiss in his hair before resting his cheek against the top of his head.

They continue to hold onto each other without exchanging another word until sunrise.

They have long since resigned themselves to the fact that there is probably no fixing any of their respective issues. Slowly, they’re even starting to make peace with it.

But like this, hidden in their quiet bubble of intimacy, it’s easier to believe that of all the things they’ve become, broken is not one of them.

[keijislove]

Can i request #2 and 3 from the prompt list with Harry x Reader please but make it a happy ending? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi anon, omg this was so much fun to write!!! I love Harry and feel that there is not much Harry x reader content out there, so here you go! Hope you like it 😊

‘And then they lived happily ever after!’ Cho finished reading as the girls around her squealed in excitement.

You merely snorted.

‘Why do all of your books have sappy endings?’ you questioned Cho as she looked at you incredulously.

‘Well, its fun to read.’ Cho shrugged. ‘If you were in Ravenclaw, you could be reading diverse romances instead of those stupid muggle books you like so much. For example, what’s this you’re reading?’

She snatched your book and looked at the words you’d been reading.

‘Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.’ She read out before looking at you. ‘See, this is why you feel so lonely, Y/N. if you’re gonna be reading miserable books like that, then I can’t blame you for being droopy most of the time.’

‘It’s not miserable, Cho.’ You contradicted. ‘It’s a little something called reality.’

Cho snorted. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘Besides, I’m not always lonely.’ You continued. ‘I have Hermione and Ron... and Harry too.’

‘And Harry too!’ Cho mocked. ‘Blimey, Y/N I forgot to ask. How’s things between you two?’

At that you looked down. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could almost feel her roll her eyes.

‘You’re lovesick, darling.’ Cho explained. ‘You get this weird glow on your face when you talk about him and your eyes form hearts like in those muggle comics you read. Also, when he’s around, you blush like a tomato. Tell me how this is incorrect?’

You sighed. ‘None of your business, Cho Chang. So what if I like him? I’m probably the 100th girl who does. He has a pretty wide collection of choices, you know. Take Ginny for example. She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, popular, outgoing AND she is sweet. I’m a loner, too sarcastic to have too many friends, and it’s not like I can help it anyway. He’d never like me.’

‘Sweetie, what is there not to like in you?’ Cho asked worriedly.

It was one of the many reasons you liked her, she always paid attention to your moods and constantly asked if you were alright.

‘Y’know what Cho, let’s leave it.’ You muttered. ‘I promised Ron I’d help him with his essay anyway. He’s probably eating in the common room. Bye.’

You gave a nod and walked off, but you could feel Cho’s eyes watching you thoughtfully.

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

As you walked into the common room, a chorus of noises greeted you.

‘Fine, I’ll give you five galleons I can.’ Harry was saying.

‘Alright mate, whatever you say.’ Said Ron.

‘Five galleons you can do what?’ you questioned, walking up to them.

Harry immediately coughed nervously. ‘Ahem, Y/N! Hi! Ron here was betting I couldn’t, er, sneak down to the kitchens.’

‘If you know Fred and George, doesn’t seem impossible.’ You said in amusement.

‘Someone summon us?’ a voice called behind you as you turned to see Fred standing there.

‘Oh, yeah.’ You spoke. ‘Ron here thinks Harry can’t sneak down to the kitchens, so he put five galleons on that. I was just explaining how anybody who knew you two could probably sneak off to Mars unnoticed.’

‘We are honoured.’ George bowed to you. ‘But Ron, mate, weren’t you betting that Harry couldn’t ask o-’

‘NO, I WASN’T!’ Ron bellowed, causing you to miss what George said.

George’s expression immediately changed.

‘Harry couldn’t ask what?’ you asked.

‘The house elves to make him some food.’ Fred casually spoke.

You narrowly looked at him.

‘Boys.’ You finally muttered, going upstairs.

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

You were trying to wrench your bag out of the spot it had decided to get caught in, when a voice startled you.

‘Here, let me help.’

You turned around to see none other than the Chosen One himself.

‘Oh, thanks.’ You said nervously as Harry yanked the bag out of the door.

You grabbed it and turned to leave.

‘Er, Y/N?’ you heard Harry ask.

‘Yeah?’

‘I was wondering if, um, you’d... y-you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me?’ Harry asked.

Your eyes grew wide. ‘Are you asking me out? Like on a date?’

‘Erm, yes.’ He said.

‘Oh.’ You managed to squeak. ‘Oh, Oh! Um, y-yeah, alright, s-sure!’

He flashed you one of his stupidly adorable grins. ‘Brilliant!

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

You and Harry had been dating for a few weeks now.

But something was terribly wrong.

Harry had started acting horribly distant, sometimes ignoring you or trying to walk past you in the corridors.

You were on your way to the common room. wondering whatever you could have done to upset him, when his voice caught you before you entered.

‘Ron, I can’t do this anymore.’ He spoke. ‘I know I agreed to your dare that I couldn’t ask Y/N out, but I can’t do this. I’ll give you your galleons, don’t worry.’

‘Well, alright mate.’ You heard Ron say. ‘But I thought you were happy-’

‘I’m not.’

That was enough for you to choke a sob and run off to the deserted Quidditch Pitch.

So that’s what it was.

A dare.

Harry didn’t want to be with you, heck he didn’t even enjoy it.

You kicked away stones in anger, remembering Cho’s voice.

Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.

That was exactly what the past few weeks were.

Fake love, fake words, fake smiles, fake promises.

It was all fake.

Your thoughts were cut short, as a pair of shoes came skipping by.

‘Oh.’ You heard a familiar voice.

No, go away, please. You thought. I hate you, don’t come near me.

‘Hey, love.’ Harry grinned.

You tried not to gag. ‘Why’re you calling me that?’

He frowned. ‘D-do you not l-like it?’

‘No.’ you coldly responded. ‘You’re here to break up, aren’t you?’

‘What how did you-’ Harry began.

'Is this what this whole relationship was to you? A bloody dare?’ you asked through your tears.

Harry’s eyes widened. ‘You heard...?’

‘Yes, I heard.’ You said. ‘Harry Potter, don’t you ever dare speak to me again.’

With that, you stalked off.

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

Even though you’d convinced yourself you’d never speak to him, you couldn’t help but worry about Harry.

The third task was near, and you were wondering if he’d make it.

He’s made it this far, hasn’t he? You thought. He’ll manage, stop thinking about him.

Sitting in the arena, waiting for him to emerge out of the maze, you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Cho... if he’s back, just let me know.’ You informed the black-haired Ravenclaw, turning to leave.

Just as you turned, a cheer erupted as you whipped around to see Harry carrying something and lying face-front on the ground.

Everyone was cheering, but you squinted at what he was carrying, trying to make out what it was.

When you focused for long enough, your hands flew to your mouth as you let out a blood-curdling scream.

Cedric Diggory’s body.

And it wasn’t moving.

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

‘Is he... can I see him?’ you asked Madame Pomphrey.

‘Well, I’m sure he’s asleep, dear.’ She answered, frowning. ‘But in you go.’

You thanked her and went inside.

Harry was not sleeping, but he looked terrible.

‘Oh, Harry.’ You sighed, walking to him.

Still not looking at you, he spoke. ‘You still hate me.’

‘No, I-’ you began. ‘I... I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.’

‘I should be the one apologising.’ He said quietly.

You sighed. ‘I’ll be late for Charms... see you soon, Harry.’

You bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

At that moment, he turned his head abruptly, causing your lips to collide.

Gasping, you pulled back.

Entire body trembling with giddiness, you walked to your class.

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

After your little ‘encounter’, Harry went back to ignoring you.

You were sick of it, and one day, while he was returning from Hagrid’s cabin, you cornered him.

‘You can’t hide forever, you know.’ You spoke seriously, arms crossed over your chest.

He didn’t look at you.

Sighing, you stepped forward. ‘We need to talk.’

His head snapped up to meet your eyes.

‘There’s nothing to talk about. I kissed you and you pulled away. End of story.’ He casually said.

‘No, it’s not the end of story.’ You snapped. ‘How could you even, first you fake-date me and then this, I mean for Merlin’s sake Harry, a kiss is supposed to mean something and I-’

‘What makes you think it didn’t mean anything?’ he asked softly.

You gaped at him. ‘You said... you dated me because of a dare and then-’

‘Oh.’ He interrupted. ‘Oh. That’s why you were upset. Oh my god, Y/N, you totally misunderstood me. I... was talking to Ron because I felt that I wasn’t being fair to you... I like you, Y/N. I truly do, and I wanted to date you as well, but I was worried what you’d think when I’d explained it was a dare! And th-then I came to tell you all this, but you seemed so sad, I thought you hated me. Don’t ever think like that, Y/N. That kiss meant everything it was supposed to.’

You remained silent.

Harry blushed and awkwardly scratched his neck. ‘Uhm... and I-I’d like to try that again...’

Your eyes widened as you turned red.

Swallowing your nerves, you leaned forward as he mirrored your actions and met you halfway.

And this time, neither of you pulled back.

[seimeinotaka]

Rêverie (An OberonXGudako fic)

MASSIVE LOSTBELT 6 SPOILERS INCLUDING OBERON'S PROFILE AND BOND CE

Summary: Oberon has been unexpectedly summoned to Chaldea. He wonders why he is even there as he reminisces what happened in Avalon Le Fae. But it seems Ritsuka isn't leaving him alone, much to his annoyance.

Thanks to jellyfishy for beta-reading this!

Once again, the story has major spoilers for LB6, Oberon's profile and Bond CE, as well as important plot points of Solomon, LB1 and LB5.

There's implied one-sided love, mentions of heavy topics such as loss, and mentions of deceased characters.

"Master, Master, you've gotten better at this!"

"Thank you, Gogh! I've been practicing a lot using the tips you and Oui gave me. Even Jeanne Alter praised my background, hehe!"

"Hey, I said it was passable. Pas-sa-ble!"

Ritsuka Fujimaru has been drawing something in the cafeteria, surrounded by many servants that come and go. No one asks what she is doing, they all seem to know or if they don’t, they don’t bother to ask.

It is so bothersome. Annoying.

So many people surrounding her, like an ultraviolet lamp that attracts all the bugs. Never mind that they end up getting zapped the moment they ever dare to touch it.

The people, the sound, the merriment, it all annoys Oberon, who only watches in silence as he eats some ice cream with melon.

To be able to smile like that, even after discarding all of those stories...Oberon doesn't hide a crooked smile. In the end, the lostbelts are no more than faint dreams doomed to end, forgotten by the winners, the panhuman history citizens. Ritsuka Fujimaru isn't different. For her, it's like reading the doujin the swimsuit berserker is making. Once the pages are closed, the story ends and it ceases to exist. She can choose to forget.

Truly detestable.

-

Oberon stares and then walks away, just as Ritsuka lifts her face. She looks around, the feeling of being watched faintly breaking her concentration.

But in the end he doesn't say a word as he leaves.

-

“Hey, you keep looking at Master!” Jeanne Alter slams her hands on the table where Oberon is sitting. Said Master is working again, too enthralled talking with Gogh to notice Jeanne Alter slipping away to talk to him.

“Does it bother if I do?” He gives her a crooked smile as she huffs and scowls. Though of course her face turns slightly pink.

“Tch, of course not! It's just your stare is getting on my nerves! Wouldn't you get distracted if someone is looking at you intensely?”

“I am a creation, not a creator. I wouldn't understand what you're saying. Besides, I wasn’t looking at her or you anyway,” he says mockingly.

“Hmph, whatever you say. Leave when Master is drawing, what she is doing is very important and I won't let you make it messy.”

“Hah, a page of your little comic? As if you need a lot of care. But fret not, I am certain that with your keen insight and guidance it will be something so memorable, up to the level of the famous writers here in Chaldea.”

“You bug...Bring it, I will burn you to a crisp! Moths do like fire, don't they? Surely you will feel at home then!” Jeanne Alter laughs. “I'll let you know that it is something so impressive that it would make you cry, if you're capable of that anyway.”

Though her Saint Graph right now is one of a Berserker, it seems the insight of the Avenger still exists deep within. After all, only those who are similar can recognize each other. Fake recognizes fake. Emptiness recognizes emptiness. Hate can only recognize hate.

Though come to think about it, Ritsuka has always been writing, he noticed she kept a small book on her, during quiet times. Perhaps a diary of sorts. It wouldn’t be surprising, to record everything she has experienced, as the writer of the winning history.

-

When we die, we'll become like those stories. Our lives are stories that might be discussed and forgotten, so it's not that different from your midsummer night dream.

A dream you forget once you wake up from your slumber.

“You're a tsundere,” Ritsuka says flatly as she rests her chin on her hand. She even dares to give Oberon a shrug and a smile, as if she can tell the truth between the lies.

“Ah, you're annoying.”

“That's exactly what I'm talking about, hehe!”

An obnoxious smile continues to be on her face, and he simply looks at her with unveiled disgust and apathy.

“Why am I even here?”

“Well, you answered the call, so you can only blame yourself for that.”

“What.”

“The rayshift system call can be refused. That's an inescapable truth. You lie a lot but there are some truths in your words. Or actions in this case. You wanted to be in Chaldea, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“Ah there it is, your virtuous nature shining through. One day you'll be fooled by someone who is pretending to be your ally...ah, my bad, that has already happened, isn't that right? Maybe you should learn your lesson.”

“Ah, yes. But it doesn't change that you are here. And because you lie often, that means I can just take it whatever way I like. You'll just deny it even if I'm right. But you can't deny we get along pretty well!”

“We do not!”

“See, that's a lie!”

“Ah, I'm going to the cafeteria! Don't follow me!”

Yet we thrive on dreams, don’t we?

“How long do you think I've been in this business? Have you interacted already with some of the servants here? I can tell you don’t mind my company.”

“I quit, I'll break the contract!”

“So, one cube or two?” Ritsuka dares to offer him the sugar cube container, even holding some tongs, just to put the amount he requests in his cup.

“You really want a poisoned tea, right, wonderful Master?~”

Even if they are something that doesn’t exist, we yearn for them, even to make them a reality. No matter how impossible. No matter how painful.

That is why we can never get rid of them.

Even if we forget once the veil of dawn has ended, something of it remains.

-

“There's so much that is subjective. For example, you were Artoria's Merlin, weren't you? For a moment you were Merlin, that was her truth. There's different Merlins, I mean we have different Artorias here from different eras and classes. You were a different Merlin than the one I know.”

Ritsuka is busy trying different colors. Oui and Gogh got into a discussion on how to best get the tones she was aiming for, and they even went to do some research on their own. The reds of a forest seem familiar yet not quite right, not that Oberon was looking at the notebook.

It has to have a dreamlike feeling, that’s what she wanted, but that’s not easy to pour into a painting.

“What we see as a lie or as truth, it changes with our perception. Your lies and my truths might be different, but it's ok. In the end we have only one perspective. That's why lies and truths can mix, that's why contradictions exist. I mean, that is why you are here.”

“Here's some advice from the bottom of my heart, don't quit your day job, Master. Stick to the world saving and leave the philosophical dissertation to virtually anyone else.”

In the end, does the truth really matter?

Something that can change when you close your eyes. Something that is as fleeting as a moth's life.

Would anything change in the grand scheme of things?

To protect Ritsuka, Chaldea forged a story, one where Romani Archaman was at fault for everything that happened.

To the world that is on the verge of disappearing, that became the truth.

To everyone in Chaldea, the truth is that this girl worked harder than anyone to protect this world.

That was what Sherlock Holmes said once they met. Oberon didn’t like him, but in a way he seems familiar. Holmes is a great detective, but since he keeps everything to himself, he might be wrong the entire time until the last minute.

So it’s not like Oberon can take him that seriously.

Even so, he told him the story of the great journey before Panhuman History was at risk by the Alien God. A story of which he was somehow aware, but it seems different when it is told by someone else.

To Oberon, it was a story of selfish survival. A fitting story of those who fight in the mud to continue existing.

To Holmes, it was a story of humanity bravely fighting to avoid destruction. An unlikely event that might have inspired others. Or rather, that is how the Leonardo Da Vinci from that time would have framed it, since Holmes isn’t an author and the current Da Vinci is someone different now.

The events are there, what changes is our perception of them. Perhaps this is where truths and lies take root, the lie of today becomes the truth of tomorrow.

The lie allows the fake existence to continue even when the dream has already ended.

But in the end, everything will fade, so nothing really matters.

-

"Well, I don't know if it has a meaning, but doesn't that mean you can give it your own? Just like how I can take your lies the way I want."

"Aren't you a simplistic one? No, perhaps it is that kind of thinking that has let you get this far. What a naive Master Chaldea has. Though it helps you accomplish your goals. "

He is not sure why they are taking tea while chatting, but here he is. Perhaps it is to hide his annoyance, the Master won’t stop until she gets what she wants anyway, so he is just avoiding a pointless squabble.

"You can think whatever you want~ and in any case, even if the feelings of today will be nothing in the future, that doesn't mean they are worthless. Because they affect the you of today and that is the moment when you are alive.”

The joy of living, that is something Oberon can’t understand nor tolerate. It angers him.

Of course, he is an entity of the abyss so how could he comprehend that?

The will of self-destruction, the cessation of existence. That something is so fundamentally wrong that it must wiped out, for there is no way to fix something that crooked.

Faerie Britain wished for him because it had to be wiped away from all records, because it had no way of being salvaged.

Therefore, he can only listen to those words.

(Perhaps it is the envy of not having something? Perhaps it is the bitterness of no longer having something to do, to dream for? Or simple ennui that no matter what, in the end it doesn’t matter?)

Ritsuka ignores his silence, as she continues.

“I don't know but for someone who likes stories you don't seem like you're actually enjoying them.”

“Would you enjoy a story where you fade away like everyone in the lostbelts you have erased? Ah, my bad. Surely, as the winner you can afford to disregard those stories. Silly me, of course you would be able to believe that as the victor you can claim to be the true history. Panhuman history is in the end mankind's right path, after all, and everything else can fade into the abyss.”

Her smile is complex, almost a facade. From one angle it looks like a forlorn frown, from the other a faint smile. She plays with the spoon on her table.

"Hmmm, I wonder..."

 Dr. Roman, we finally beat the British Lostbelt. It was unlike any other places we were, and I keep thinking of Percival's words...

   I wish you were still here.

The sacrifice of someone can mean the whole world for a single person. The sacrifices of millions can become a mere statistic, a simple cold number to show how bad an event was. In the end, it doesn't matter.

What was once lost will never come back.

The void left in one's soul will never heal, it only becomes more bearable with time.

But even so, that lingering pain is the proof that someone was alive, that they left a mark on the others they met as one looks at the twinkling stars and reminisces of the never-happening-again past.

“Did you know the true opposite of love isn't hate but indifference?”

“Haaah? Perhaps you didn't think so but I was being honest about my suggestion. Thinking too much will only hurt your head. You should only focus on what's in front of you.”

“Whether you love or hate, you end up putting a lot of attention to the object of your affections, but if you're indifferent to it, it ceases to exist. Perhaps your hatred of everything is because there's something you cannot afford to lose.”

Titania was the wife of Oberon in Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream. She was the only one who could accept the king's eccentric personality.

But in reality, she was just a creation for the story, a being who was never real.

Of course, there isn't a person like that in the world.

Someone who accepts a hollow entity like me.

“I don’t know, if Arjuna Alter was able to come to terms with his own humanity, well...nevermind. I was just thinking aloud.”

(Ideals are just that.

A concept not belonging to this world.

It is when you reconcile with the flawed reality that you can grasp your happiness, the one you have.)

“Heh-Hahahaha, that's rich, Master!”

This is so sickening.

Only Titania could have loved(tolerated) such an unpleasant existence. Only Titania could have loved(tolerated) a being born of hate, a destructive force whose only purpose is to rend everything to ashes.

But the fact is, Titania doesn't exist. This means no one could accept someone like him.

That is the unpleasant truth.

That is why people are entranced(poisoned) by falsehoods, lies to sweeten the body and protect the soul. It's a sweet elixir to hide from the harsh reality, the ultimate end of the journey of everyone, a pointless, worthless life. Because at the end of the dream, no matter what one has accomplished, it doesn't change the finale of this story and it is doomed to be forgotten. 

Just as the one princess from before, who also fell in love with the Fairy King. The one who tried to give fire to his cold body. But he didn't notice this, not even when her snow body had ceased to move, a protection of love.

So in the end, if it's not acknowledged, it is the same as it never had happened.

“Tell me, does it matter to you? Are you going to tell me you know how I feel? That you understand what I'm going through? Come on, tell me your important story, that everything is going to be alright as long as I'm not alone-”

“I can't. I don't know how you feel. Even if we had suffered the same, I wouldn't know how you feel.”

Her words or her smile, the same as before. He doesn’t know which but it cuts him short.

“All I know is the pain of losing someone important to me, but that's not what you're feeling, right?”

The Titania I wish for doesn't exist in this world. The Faerie Britain that gave birth to me no longer exists, even if I have accomplished my goal. 

I am merely a dream whose purpose has been fulfilled and thus, the curtain shall be down as I exit the stage.

The things I yearn for are merely dreams. Even so, I hope, because I saw it existed for someone else. For another Oberon, not the one I am.

The illusion of happiness, the hope of a love.

I don't know how it is to not be Oberon, the lying king. The king without any other purpose. The villain that has exited the stage having won, but now even that victory is pointless.

Then, why am I still here? 

“For what it's worth, I like you. You're nice company, lies and all.”

“You’re an odd one.”

“I've been told that often.”

“It's not a compliment, you have no taste.”

“You know, for Panhuman history I am the hero, ensuring our world survives. But to everyone else from every lostbelt erased...I am the worst of the worst, the villain that destroys their world.”

Ritsuka traces the notebook on her hands. The contents of the rest could be disclosed but Oberon doesn’t open any of the other pile of notebooks, so they all lie on her bed.

“Patxi cursed me for showing him a world that he thought was happier than his.”

Tears fell from her eyes as she smiled weakly. “I wonder if that was ever the right choice.”

“Panhuman history isn't the perfect utopia you can imagine. Humans seek hatred and war, there's suffering and agony. While some can lead happy lives, there's so many who can't even enjoy a warm meal or think of a future. Kirshtaria saw that, he wanted to make a better world because ours was so imperfect.”

“Why are we still going?”

“Why was ours the correct one?”

“Even now, I don't know. And I'm not sure if I'll ever know. Any justification might seem a rationalization, something to feel less guilty for killing all those people.”

“That is why I cannot forget, I cannot let the history of those lostbelts be erased. Even if I'm the only one who remembers,” her grip on the notebook tightened, “I can never forget them.”

Like a dream, one time Oberon caught sight of what she was drawing, finally reaching the dreamy red hue she long sought, depicting the autumn forest Oberon knew and hated.

The words depicting what happened in Faerie Britain, the stories of Artoria, Morgan, of Barghest, Baobhan Sith and Melusine, of Aurora, of Mike, of Ector, of Knocknarea, of him.

“Even if the rest of the world forgets, I cannot. That's why I want to record as much as I can. I caused them to disappear, remembering all of them is the least I can do.”

“That's guilt for you.”

“...Yes, I can't deny that. I've caused many people to suffer, that is why I cannot stop.”

“You're an idiot. Pursuing a fleeting dream that will only cause you to hurt, as your heart tears itself apart with these thorns you surround yourself with.”

“I guess. But someone has to do it right? But even so…

“I enjoy the moments with everyone here in Chaldea and I can say I'm happy.

But I also feel deep sadness for everything that I have done and continue to do.”

There are many contradicting truths, woven into each other.

Like overlapping threads in a beautiful(horrible) story.

“I could think Panhuman history is the correct one because it was there. There was a reason why it was chosen.”

“And if there isn't? If there is truly no meaning to your journey? That the reason your world was chosen was a mere whim of fate, a sudden lucky roll of the dice? That there is nothing special to your world that makes you worthy of the title of proper human history?”

“Then I guess I will have to make it so that there is one.”

“And if you can't?”

“Just because I can't doesn't mean I shouldn't try.”

“Trying doesn't mean you will succeed. Morgan tried her hardest, but in the end, she still failed, crumbling in despair as her Faerie kingdom burnt to ashes.”

“Well, that will come bite me when the time comes, but for now, that’s all I can do, right?”

In the end, as long as it entertains, does it matter?

What is the purpose of a story? To bring joy(tears)? To break one from that moment of boredom, of despair, and heal the soul even if just a little?

And in the end, does it even matter?

-

“I like this Saint Graph more.”

It’s been a long time since he has donned the clothes as King Oberon. Once the façade was over, once he could ascend, he has never worn anything but the colors of the depths of the abyss. Anyone else would think they are unsightly, hateful, depressing.

After all, the warmth of King Oberon’s butterfly wings makes children smile, makes people trust him. His monstruous limbs right now are not enchanting.

“I thought you were a butterfly girl. And I have been wearing these ever since, why are you even saying this up until now?”

“I just wanted to say that. I like the fluffy cape and the butterfly wings, but you sound less pained right now. And this outfit is cool too.”

In the end, perhaps Titania isn't meant to be someone who brings the sun to your eyes, with laughter so contagious that she makes the bitterness of a day go away. She's not a neverending warmth on a cold winter, nor a guiding bright star up in the dark sky. She's not the simple to your complicated, the light to your dark, the smile to your frown, the opposite of your miserable existence that brings joy to your life. An illogical being that accepts you in spite of your incompatibility. 

Was I wrong all along? 

A companion when watching a wonderful(decadent) play.

Someone who walks by your side in a crumbling world.

Someone whose company makes the poison more bearable and hell, tolerable.

Someone who simply loves me for who I am. Who gazed at the abyss, saw the void yet didn't run away.

Ah, this is so laughable, an amateur terrible tragicomedy, a hideous play with no sickeningly sweet ending.

(Perhaps it is because Titania is a wretched creature herself. Or perhaps because Titania's wings have been torn off that she understands a small fragment of you. Even if true understanding is a lie, a pipe dream. Titania has seen her own hell and can sympathize with yours, with the emptiness and resentment you hold. Not fearing it, not judging it. Just accepting you as the flawed existence you are.

If that is the case, then there is nothing beautiful about Titania.)

But even so...

"...You are..."

"Did you say something?"

"No, nevermind."

Ritsuka smiles as Oberon looks away. He grumbles about the cramped space as he hoards the bed, swatting a mosquito away while she writes in her diary. The boring stories she writes that he doesn't care about even if his fingers have traced those letters.

But even so, he stays.

Ah, love is a bothersome thing.

-

Thank you for reading!

Now, OH BOY WHERE TO BEGIN. Title comes from Debussy's Rêverie. I wanted to play with it, seeing that Oberon's Bond CE is called Pavane for a Dead Princess, which is the title of a melody by Ravel. I am sure it is no coincidence. Both Ravel and Debussy were considered the cornerstones of Impressionism in music, however, they both HATED being labeled like that.

Pavane for a Dead Princess is one of Ravel's solo compositions for the piano. However, unlike what the title implies, Ravel specifically said that it wasn't meant to be a melody of a funeral, but he wanted to evoke the idea of a princess dancing to the pavane. However, some people didn't really listen to him. So in this case, I think that rather than to see Oberon's CE as a funeral to Blanca, it is a way to celebrate her story, even if it didn't end on the happier note we would have wished. You can listen to it here

Now Rêverie is by Debussy and it's meant to feel like a dream, hence the name. The melody became a massive hit, though Debussy later hated this piece because he felt that he had written better pieces but this one was the one that made him famous. Since it was written when he was young, he felt he was still lacking a lot, but the melody became one of his most popular compositions nonetheless. I think that story ties nicely with what we perceive vs what others perceive. You can listen to it here

Now onto the actual fic, I had this vague idea when part 3 was released, especially after all the spoilers about Oberon's true identity. I really wanted to get him, and I was super lucky. In between getting him, his profile and bond lines being translated, I just got possessed to write this as a way to honor and thank him for coming home AND to give him a sort of happy ending after Avalon.

Oberon in that bed is thanks to that comic on Twitter where he is eating chips without any care and the kind reminder of his voice lines that in spite of him constantly complaining, he spends an awful lot of time on our room. Hehehe.

Best of luck if you are pulling for him! And once again, thank you for reading!

[cedricslover]

ok this is kinda angsty but can i request a wolfstar with a daughter reader where she was like tortured/kidnapped by death eaters and even though she’s back home with them she still has nightmares and they comfort her after a nightmare. thank you! 🤗

Aaaaaaah! My first ever request!! Sorry this took so long bestie.

Warnings: angst, unwanted touching

Your breathing was heavy as you sat up in your bed, drops of sweat were visible from your forehead down to your neck. You tried not to look at your hands, your arms, and even your face, but you didn't know what had gotten into you. You stood up and walked towards the full size mirror. It was broken. Remembering how you hate to look at yourself now, they left you marks, marks that will never leave you. Ever. 

"TELL ME, WHERE IS HARRY?!" Bellatrix's voice filled the room. You looked at her with pure disgust and said "I don't know" and it happened so fast. You tasted blood, she slapped you so hard it made a cut on your lip. 

"Don't make me lose my mind" she said and grabbed your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks so much it hurts. "You already did" you replied and tried to smirk despite your aching body tied up in a wooden chair. 

"That's it! Torture her again. Make her say something" Bellatrix signaled the death eaters outside the dungeon of the Malfoy Manor, you loathed every single inch of this place. But you cannot do anything. You were there, helpless, you can't even stand, you lost hope after being there for 2 weeks, hell you even accepted your death. 

"Aaaaaaaah!!!" You screeched as they threw you another cruciatus curse. Pain. That was the only one you felt. In between your screams you noticed streams of tears falling down to your cheeks. 

"Aww is someone crying?" Fenrir Greyback walked towards you, his filthy smell filled your nose, "should I stop it?" He whispered in your ear, not minding your groaning self. With all your energy left, you forced yourself to bump your head into his. Being disgusted on how close his body was to you, you loathed him, he made your father suffer. 

"That hurts. Not bad for someone being tortured" Greyback laughed maniacally and lifted the cruciatus curse on you. "Do you want to be like your dad?" He talked casually, getting another chair to sit in front of you. "Heard children have dreams like that don't they? They want to be their dad, or parents" he said while scratching his teeth with his bare hands. Your stomach turned upside down just the sight of him.

"I'll ask Lord Voldemort if I can make you a werewolf, just like your dad. It's a win-win. You became like your father, I gain another werewolf" he stood up and walked closer to you again, held your face while his other hand traced your legs. 

"GREYBACK!" You heard Lucius called him which made him stop, he smirked and looked at you one last time before heading out to the dungeons. Leaving you all alone. Whimpering again. 

Realizing you are stuck in this awful side of the world and no one can save you. 

Your head was down, shoulders are still shaking, your whole body was aching, you can't even close your eyes peacefully without having the image of the death eaters appearing, all trying to get answers from you. But you swore to die first before they get information from you. 

"Help me" you said again and again, everyday, thinking that someone might save you from this hellhole. Tears streaming down your face, you still tasted blood but it was different from where Bellatrix slapped you. Greyback cutted your cheeks, there were drops of blood coming from your cheeks, you felt it. It stings like hell, but it won't compare the pain your whole body was feeling.

Yet again, you were so tired, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, you never felt peace this good, you didn't mind the noise above you. Maybe it was just the death eaters fighting again, it was normal. You heard the dungeon door clanging but you had no energy to even lift your head. Having ample amount of hope you muttered again, "help me", before being completely eaten by the darkness. 

"Princess?" You heard your father's voice while you stared at your broken reflection. "Are you still awake?" He said again and entered your room. 

"What are you doing th-" Sirius stopped as he saw your broken mirror. Shock was seen in his face, but was overcome with worry. "Come here" he softly said and opened his arms. You ran to him as tears started dripping from your eyes. 

"Dad…" you shakingly said as you wrapped your arms to him, burying your face to him. "Shh… everything is fine. No one can ever, and if I say ever, I meant ever, hurt you anymore. Remember that." He said, making you feel safe as he caressed your hair. 

"Sirius I told you to leave her alone she needs spa-" Your other father entered the room and stopped as Sirius gestured to him to stay quiet. Now, only your sobs filled the room. "Dad, I can't look at myself the same anymore, whenever I see my scars, they fill my mind. Images and the feeling of pain that I experienced. I can't even sleep peacefully without having nightmares- I can't even close my eyes. Dad, I just want to be at peace" you cried harder than ever after telling Sirius. He was just there caressing your hair while tapping your back, repeatedly saying that you are already safe. Until you felt another warmth covering you. 

"Dad?" You lift your head and see Remus smiling sweetly to you despite his teary eyes. "Sweetie-" he wiped your tears "back then, when me and Sirius were young, we also both had a very rough time. I mean- I was a werewolf for Godric's sake, while Sirius, he lived in an abusive home" you saw pain in his eyes as he reminisced the hard times, "but we both got through it because we had support, and now," he slithered his arms over Sirius' shoulder "we are your support." They both said in unison.

They were also both in pain, seeing their daughter cry, they blamed themselves for taking so long to rescue you from those animals. Remus almost lost himself everytime he thought of what the death eaters did to you, while Sirius was filled with anger too. Seeing your scars, hearing your agony every midnight. It was heartbreaking for them. You were their only child and they promised to protect you. But they failed.

 

"If the Malfoy Manor is the place that she could be right now then let's go! My daughter is out there, waiting for us, we don't even know what they are doing to her! And you expect me to sit here, while my daughter is in pain?!" Sirius' voice filled the house at Grimmauld place, the Order of the Phoenix were having another meeting, they searched every place the death eaters might take you except for one place. Malfoy Manor.

"You can't just barge right into there Sirius! You know how many death eaters surround that manor!" Kingsley answered Sirius. 

"DO YOU THINK I WILL JUST WASTE MY TIME AGAIN LISTENING TO YOUR PLAN WHEN MERLIN KNOWS WHAT IS BELLATRIX DOING TO MY DAUGHTER?!" Sirius was red, the veins on his neck were ready to pop, frustration filled his voice as pictures of you getting tortured appeared in his head.

"Moony?" He shifted his gaze to Remus who just entered the room, he was now also red, trying to compose himself, realizing how much time they wasted. "We will do the operation tonight. If not tonight, me and Sirius will barge in there. I don't care anymore. Our daughter's life is at stake and if you don't understand that I will make you."

"Dads?" You called their attention before they stepped out of your room. You sat up in your bed and smiled at them. "Please don't blame yourselves" you said before going back to laying on your bed, covered yourself with your nice warm blanket. 

"We won't anymore." Sirius whispered before he closed the door. 

It might be hard for them to not blame themselves, but they know deep down, they shouldn't and you, just made them dig that deep down. You. Their daughter. 

[honestlyandrogynousnightmare]

Arthur in Sins of the father...

Fyi, prepare for grammatical errors because beta reading just isnt my thing..by that i mean im lazy but yknow

I have to say, this is probably one of my favourite episodes ever. Not only is it actually well written, its focused on Arthur and how much he misses his mother and Bradley did an incredible job in this episode. 

I like how Arthur centric it is. Most episodes do end up revolving around Merlin (well no shit sherlock the show is called merlin) but having this episode focus on Arthurs struggles is a nice change and gives us a better view into his character as well as gives us a glimpse of what Arthur would be like without his fathers brainwashing.

What this episode highlights more than anything is how much Arthur wants to meet his mother. All his life he has been told to obey his father and not trust sorcerers and then the moment a sorceress mentions that she knew his mother Arthur goes against both of those things just to meet her. It doesnt matter what lengths he has to go to, he still does everything he can for that one conversation and i think that shows just how much he wants that maternal figure in his life, even if its for a few seconds. In all honesty, i would say he’s pretty desperate by this point. His father never mentions his mother or anything about her so so he cant even paint a picture of her in his brain which just makes him want to meet her more. In those moments when hes going after Morgause, we kind of see a different side of him, because for once in his life he has a chance to learn something about his mother. And you just cant blame him for being so desperate at this point. We dont see much of this, but Arthur grew up without that love every other child experiences, not even from his own father. Someone in his position cant spare time for feelings, and that key ideology that his father drilled into his head remained there from childhood onwards. Having this one chance to know something about the person his mother was, isnt something he could let himself miss.

Another thing he is bound to be feeling is guilt. The first instance is being the cause of his mothers death. Before he found out about the magic thing, it wouldve been so easy to jump to the conclusion that his birth caused is mothers death as she died in childbirth (or as he was told). But after he was told that he was born of magic, i think that while part of him blamed his father for not reading the fine print on the contract (i dont know who came up with that joke, it for sure wasnt me), he still blamed himself because the creation of his life is what took his mothers life away. Not only that, but at the end of the episode when Merlin told him that the illusion was fake, its clear enough that he feels guilty for almost killing his damn father, trusting a sorceress in the first place and also disobeying  his father. 

And back onto the whole thing about Arthur being desperate, he trusted a random woman (and i repeat, a sorceress) about knowing his mother. Not only that but he fully believed the illusion. Idk this just makes me so sad because he had that little spark of hope, not only about meeting his mother but also believing that not all sorcerers are evil. He didnt question these things, he went straight into them, which to me just again shows how desperate and hopeful he was at that point. 

Obviously all of that was completely crushed when he attempted to murder his father and then merlin told him that it was all a lie butttt lets backtrack a little. 

What i love about this episode more than anything is that is shows us that Arthur isnt completely brainwashed (using that word again because synonyms requre effort) by his father, he doesnt hang on every word that is told to him by Uther and all it takes to convince him that his father is wrong is one illusion.Him fighting with Uther and, even for that short period of time, believing that magic isnt evil, gives us an insight into the person he is. Hes not a bad person. He may be naive and ignorant because of the way he was brought up but  if he was educated properly as a child then he wouldnt agree with his father so much. The question everyone always asks is what would happen if merlin hadnt stepped in? i think its fair to say that Arthur wouldnt hate magic so much and maybe the whole golden age of albion would actually happen, but arthur would be miserable. i think thats the main thing that pushed merlin to lie again, because by that point in the series its obvious that he doesnt fight for magic, he fights for arthur. Like yeah arthur saying that magic is evil at the end of the episode does clerly crush merlin but i dont think he would be able to live with Arthur being so miserable and guilt ridden over killing his father. Either way, this is about arthur and not merlin (though ill probably write a paragraph on that sooner or later) so let me pose you the final question (that i will also answer because im here to spread my unwanted opinions).

Is this entire episode pointless for arthurs character development  or not. 

when i first asked myself this question, the obvious answer was yes, because arthur went full circle. from hating sorcery to still hating it in the end. But what i later considered is that even if he went full circle, there was a journey he had to endure. If anything, he hates sorcery even more now simply because he first hand witnessed a sorceress “lie” to him for her own gain and to try to destroy the kingdom. All those things his father taught him about sorcery are essentially happening, and the fact that he was lied to about a sensitive subject like his mother, would just make the situation worse for him.

The thing about arthur and sorcery, is that he is never actually able to find his own stance on it. People manipulate him back and forth, whether thats Uther, agravane, morgana, morgause, random magical enemies of camelot who think starting war and conflict will make arthur hate sorcery less, everyone manipulates him and drags him into different directions. He never makes that opinion himself. Idrk, this isnt even relevant but im on a roll of pointing out sad things so whoohooo

So what is my point? If this hadn't happened, maybe Arthur would have an easier time making his own judgement and stance on magic, but of course its bbc merlin and we cant have happy endings.

Welp hope you enjoyed this rollercoaster of emotions, have a lovely evening ..or day?

Either way. As always. I blame uther

[wlntrsldler]

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred���s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

-

tags: @rexorangecouny

[mellifluousmalfoy]

violet. // fred weasley x reader.

i’m so so so sorry this took so long, i’ve had the absolute worst case of writer’s block and it’s taking me decades to sift through these requests!! thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for taking years to write this @helloallthethingsilove​ <33

warning(s): cuss words, and the tiniest pinch of angst i swear. 

word count; 3.5k

okay, maybe this is a slight spin-off to flower curse, but you don’t have to read it to read this.

in which you share the same injuries with your soulmate.

“Calm down, [L/N],”

“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s a downright git is what he is.” I was fuming.

“Who does he think he is to just up and leave me here? I mean, after everything we’ve been through together, I’d assume he’d had said something to me, don’t you agree?” My dorm mates simply rolled their eyes. According to the letter my boyfriend had left me, this outburst was completely spontaneous.

Spontaneous my arse. I had watched him sneak off with his brother and best friend, whispering for the past week or two. He had every chance to tell me yet now he’s run off, only left me a letter with his reasoning.

Lee, poor Lee, had heard the bitter half of my wrath, promising me he would try his best to get hold of my idiot of a boyfriend. Heck, I could just feel they were experimenting with their newest products to come because I was sporting a yellow bruise on the side of my thigh and it was growing immensely painful.

Fred Weasley, you’re going to suffer for this.

Merlin, the thought of him was bringing tears to my eyes. This was the Yule Ball all over again. The git had ditched me that night, but he came back. He always did come back. The fear bloomed in my stomach knowing that this time, this time he wouldn’t be coming back. He said so in his letter, he wouldn’t be returning so as long as that cow of a professor was still here.

I huffed, standing to leave the common room. Being Fred Weasley’s soulmate was a big joke that Merlin or whoever was playing on me, yet it brought to me my best memories. My stomach sank, he was gone.

I bit back the tears that threatened to escape and muttered an excuse to my dorm mates before turning to leave, praying they wouldn’t follow me because I knew they were worried for me. I grumbled to myself as I left the common room, weaving through the halls towards the library. 

I sighed contently when I saw the library was rather empty. I tore my bag off my shoulder and settled down into a desk. My arse of a boyfriend may have left, but I still had important exams that would determine my life to complete.

-

Hogsmeade was busy as always, bustling with students in third year and up, some on dates, some stuck to the side of their friends. I looked around the streets, it was slowly getting warmer as summer approached and I was thanking the heavens for that. I tried to spot the bright red head of hair that was apparently waiting for me.

Lee had managed to get a hold of his best friend and arranged for us to meet in Hogsmeade.

Walking through the excited sea of students, I tried to manoeuvre through the crowd when I spotted an oh so familiar head of hair. I picked up my pace and headed towards the tall gangly male. 

He caught sight of me struggling through the crowd and threw me the cheekiest smile he could muster, only to be met with a glare.

Once I got through the crowd, I basically stomped towards the idiot. He held his arms open, expecting a hug only to be met with a hit to his stomach, which would cause both of us to most definitely sport a good bruise. 

He winced at the impact and groaned, “What was that for?”

I simply glared at him and straightened my back, staring down at his hunched figure, “Is that really what you’re asking me, you idiot?”

He straightened up at my tone and knew he was definitely in trouble, “Look,” he paused, shifting uncomfortably in his jacket, “I’m sorry, it really was-”

“Cut the spontaneous bullshit, Weasley.” He frowned at my cold tone and I tried my best not to cry. I may have sounded brave now, but I was seconds from crying. I held my breath as I tried my best not to sound vulnerable, “Why couldn’t you have told me?”

I wanted to curse myself for sounding so small, and his frown softened. He removed his gaze from the floor to meet my sad eyes, and I could see the guilt filling his eyes, “I didn’t expect you to be this upset.”

“Then what did you expect, Fred?” He seemed to relax at my use of his first name and took a hesitant step toward me, “How would you feel if I just upped and left with only a letter as an explanation? I still don’t see why you didn’t tell me, so I could have prepared myself a bit better for the time you did leave.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, a stray tear gliding down my cheek which I quickly wiped with the sleeve of my jumper.

I shook my head when he went to take another step towards me, continuing to speak my innermost demons, “If this is a thing about trust-”

“Don’t be daft,” he was quick to cut me off, and I knew my words were wrong, but feelings took over my brain and I couldn’t stop myself.

“For me, it is Fred. This terrifies me, and you can’t blame me for thinking you would do this once we are finished with school.”

“This is different, I have a reason to leave. You know that.” His voice was stern, different from the silly tone he held before, and his eyes were cold.

“Do I?” The question rang in the air and the tears never seemed to stop coming, “Maybe this isn’t for the best. Maybe we-”

“No, you cannot do this. Not now.” He shook his head, his stern tone replaced by confusion. His eyes were begging me, begging for the truth. He knew I was lying to not only him, but myself.

“Fred, I can’t trust you.” It was a lie. I trusted this man with my life yet I continued to lie to him. He knew I was lying to him, it was my turn to beg. Beg for him to tell me I’m silly and to stop lying, to save our relationship. But he only nodded.

“Sure, okay then.”

“A break.” I left the statement out in the air. I wanted to slap myself across the face, to scream at myself and to ask what exactly I was doing, to try and knock some sense into myself. Yet, I continued to push myself away from the man I wanted and needed most. And he let me.

“If things work out, we’ll meet again someday,”

“And if they don’t?”

I didn’t answer his question, the answer was something that I was terrified of. Losing Fred was something that scared me beyond comprehension, yet here I was, making my worst fears come true.

“Just forget about it, Fred.”

“And just what should I forget about?” I wanted to physically stop myself from speaking, stop myself from hurting this man anymore. I wanted to snap out of it because the hurt in his voice, it wasn’t worth all of this pain. The tears that seemed to fill his eyes wasn’t worth all this, yet I continued.

“Us.”

I wanted him to call me stupid like he always did, to pull me by my elbow and hold me against his chest like he always did. I hated myself for hurting him, it was the last thing I had wanted to do. My mouth wouldn’t stop running, completely ignoring the conversations I played in my head the night before, the ones where I would hug him and tell him I missed him, the ones where I’d jab him on the shoulder and he would hug me and apologise, but instead I was a complete idiot.

My tears wouldn’t stop when I turned to leave, and they only seemed to increase when I knew he wouldn’t run after me. I pushed him far enough away from me that he wouldn’t run after me, and I hated myself beyond belief for it.

-

A year or so later.

Summer was hitting hard surprisingly. 

Summer in the UK never seemed to be hot, but this year it was striking down, particularly in my tiny area of England. Although, summer never seemed to be a fun time, especially if Fred was no longer in the mix. Heck, even my family was upset we were no longer together, they owed him my life in so many ways. 

Ever since the summer before our sixth year, he was a regular visitor in our house, so much so my parents had let him stay on more than one occasion. My mother always seemed to make the wedding jokes, but the underlying tone made it obvious she was far from joking.

Merlin, I missed him so bloody much.

Graduating Hogwarts was difficult. All the years spent there were now becoming insignificant, the gossips in our houses were barely thought about now. Some say a burden is lifted from your shoulders after graduating, but the burden of being an adult, finding a job and eventually moving out of my family home was heavier than school could ever be.

Surprisingly, the bruises seemed to decrease over time, and it seems as though the experimentation period had been long done, and seeing a glimpse of their shop whenever I went to work, I knew they had achieved their lifelong goal.

Working as a wandmaker had always been my dream, and I only ever confided in one person, and now he wanted nothing to do with me. Garrick Ollivander had agreed to let me be his apprentice and I had been working with him until the store was in ruins mere days ago. Working under such an incredible craftsman was more than I could ever ask for, (perhaps I had to thank my father’s status for that), but I couldn’t find it in myself to be excited, relieved that I had my life set out for me.

Something was itching in the back of my mind. The letter Dumbledore had given me days before his death remained unopened on my bedside table, and I tried to convinced myself it wasn’t important. But Dumbledore himself had handed me the letter, how could it not be important. 

It’s been months since I was given the letter yet it still remained untouched.

I grumbled, cursing myself for not having any more restraint, and I walked back into my house and upstairs into my room. The letter was glaring at me, the red wax begging to be opened. 

I hesitated for a moment before approaching my bedside table, ripping the letter open before I could second think about the situation.

My stomach flipped at the contents of the letter, Dumbledore had asked me to join the Order of The Phoenix, guessing I already knew about the elite group, and I did. Fred always told me everything- well he used to. Of course the man knew I wouldn’t open the letter until the last moment, because the date of the meeting and the date he had given me the letter were aeons apart, yet he knew.

The date of the meeting was etched right in the centre, and I knew this was it. The someday I had mentioned to Fred, and if he was willing to have me again, I was willing to give my all to him.

-

I second checked my bags, it seemed that I needed more than just an overnight bag from what Dumbledore had said in the letter, and I packed as much. I made sure I had my wand and any other important things before stepping into my fireplace, reading out the name of the place Dumbledore had written in the letter and threw the floo powder, letting the flames engulf me.

I was met by a warm living room and a Mrs Weasley who seemed to be fluffing the pillow before she snapped around and welcomed me into her arms. I smiled into the hug she gave me and greeted her, “It’s lovely to see you too, Mrs Weasley. But I would love to move my bags if I could please,”

“Oh! I’m sorry dear! Let me get out your way. Don’t be ridiculous, one of the boys will take it off your hands.” And then she bellowed out the boys’ names in the loudest voice she could muster before turning back to me with her signature smile, “Tea? Coffee, dear?”

“No, thank you. All I really want is to sit down for a bit if that’s alright.” I was exhausted, I hardly slept the night before because all I could think about was Fred. Ron sneaked around his mother to grab my bags off my hands and disappeared into the doorway he came through, only giving me an awkward smile as he did so.

“Yes, yes settle down, love. I’ll show you to the kitchen, ‘S where the rest of the Order are.” I could tell the older witch was itching to ask me something from the way she kept glancing at me as we walked down the long hall to the kitchen, “Dumbledore did say you would come around, we’ve been waiting for you for years, dear.”

I wasn’t surprised as to what she said to me, I knew Dumbledore had known I would come around later from the date in the later, I was more shocked at the fact she had said ‘we’, who else had been waiting for me?

The Order was bustling full of Weasleys, they were everywhere, and I was quite surprised to see Bill here. I had met Bill at one of the few Christmases he had come home, and it seemed like he never came home, not as much as Charlie at least. 

I looked around the room expectantly, hoping to see Fred amongst the crowd but came up with nothing, only meeting the awkward eyes of George, who oddly seemed apologetic. Merlin, why couldn’t he dislike me? I broke his brother’s heart along with my own.

I sat down into the seat Molly had pulled out for me and suppressed a groan as I settled into the comfortable chair. The room seemed to grow quiet, some staring at the door, some staring at me. I knew he was here now and I tried to fight the urge to glance at the door yet it was useless.

I looked at him and it seemed he only got more handsome over the two years I hadn’t seen him. He no longer had those boyish features, only boyish charms. His face seemed more sculpted and he looked more built. Merlin, how could I have ever left this man.

I held the edge of my seat in my hand, tight enough for my knuckles to turn white. His brown eyes met mine, and I had expected them to be cold but this was different. He seemed completely isolated as his eyes met mine, the smile that was on his face was fading now.

Before I could even understand what happened, he was dragging me by the wrist down the halls, through doors until we settled at what seemed to be his room.

“What are you doing here?” His hand had never let go of my wrist and I was more than focused on it. I had missed his touch so much that this gave me multiple serotonin boosts at once, electricity was radiating off his hold and it was all I could focus on.

“Dumbledore invited me,” I could barely mutter the three words as I looked into his eyes. His walls were so high I couldn’t break them down if I tried, and I knew they had to come down willingly or this would all be lost.

“It’s been so long,” His words held so much weight. He was aware, we were both aware that we had both done some serious growing up which we needed, and maybe we didn’t know each other so well anymore.

“I missed you.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I adverted my stare to the wooden floor below us. I couldn’t lie anymore, I didn’t want to lie to him anymore. I never wanted to tell a lie to him again because it always came with pain. My words stayed in the air in a way that I hated. Did he not miss me?

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling me by the wrist he still held and towards his chest, “I missed you too.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and burrowed my face into his neck, and I knew, this was our someday. This was our time, we had grown as people and now we could go back to each other. We were no longer dumb 17-year-olds who thought they knew what they were doing, we were older and much wiser.

Fred sniffled into my hair and I realised the idiot was crying, but I couldn’t deny that I was too, “Is this our someday?”

His question came out as a whisper and I dug myself further into his jacket, “This is most definitely our someday, Freddie.”

-

Being with Fred during a war was almost impossible, yet we managed. Our houses were reconnected by floo and he frequented at my home once again, much to my parents’ pleasure. 

The war. It was here now, it was inevitable yet I wanted to avoid it, to spend more time with Fred as selfish as it sounded. 

The castle was now in ruins. The sanctuary of all the students was now crumbling. 

I looked around the castle, ran through the wrecked halls trying to find Fred. We had both been assigned to two different parts of the castle to protect, yet I couldn’t stop myself from having to see him. Something was wrong, I could feel it. 

The world felt as though it was slowing down as I deflected the spells dark wizards had been throwing from left and right, throwing back my own curses on the way.

My steps were getting slower over time, and as I neared his part of the castle I knew nothing was right in that moment. My ears were ringing, no longer being able to hear my surroundings. 

I couldn’t hear Percy, but I could see he was screaming, crying. And it was over Fred’s body. The whole world seemed to cave in on me. This must have been some joke, a big joke the world was playing on me. There was no way in Merlin’s name he was gone. He couldn’t have been. He had promised me he would never leave me again. 

My feet seemed to drag along the floor as I approached them. Percy, who heard my approach, snapped his head towards me, holding out his wand until he saw who it was. Merlin, the man was wrecked. I could barely breathe once I reached his side, “This must be some joke, Weasley.”

My voice was hoarse, my throat running dry as I tried my best to compose myself, “You promised, Fred! You promised you’d never leave my side without telling me! Even leaving a letter behind would mean much more than this.”

My heartbeat was banging against my ears, and I realised. What did this mean for the soulmate link? Death was knocking at my door, I could tell. All I had to do was open the bloody door.

I sunk to the floor crying, no longer being able to hold myself up. I was dying, and I wanted to. Percy remained silent as he watched the life drain from my face. 

It happened so quickly. I hadn’t expected death to consume me so quick. The last picture in my mind before my body fell limp was his smile, the genuine one he held whenever he was happy, not that cheeky smirk, not that sheepish grin, but that big happy smile.

-

It was warm. I felt as though I was floating on a bed of clouds as I refused to open my eyes, to wake up from my sleep.

The sleep I had just woken up from was so good and I hadn’t felt this good after a sleep in what felt like years, and in all honesty that was probably true.

“Love, come on it’s time to wake up,”

“Five more minutes, Fred.” I yawned, turning away from his voice, digging my face into the blanket that was draped over me.

“You said that ten minutes ago, love.”

“And what about it?” I asked, turning my head back toward him. It seemed as though I was dreaming, surely he wasn’t truly here. And so I thought of this as a dream and conversed with him like I always did.

“I have to show you around, don’t I?” I could tell from his voice that he was smiling, and it made me want to return it. I finally opened my eyes and met his own warm brown ones, he seemed so real, “Good morning, lovely.” 

“G’morning, Freddie.” The smile that itched at the corner of my mouth took over and I beamed up at him. I had never felt so happy to be in his presence, but what he said earlier rung in my ears, “What do you mean by showing me around?”

“Well,” he paused to press a kiss to my forehead, “it’s not every day you meet your soulmate in the afterlife.”