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Author rec : Aibidil
Aibidil is one of my favorite authors. Here are a few recs, listed in alphabetical order.
(Un)wanted by @aibidil [36k]
Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.
Back to You by @aibidil and @daisymondays [8k]
The eighth years make Harry and Malfoy go head to head and back to back in a question-and-answer drinking game. The worst that can happen is they end up drunk, right?
Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by @aibidil [80k]
In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.
the latch is undone by @aibidil [24k]
Years ago, if you asked Draco what he thought would be the hardest part of building a life with Harry Potter, he would've said the beginning: convincing Potter to give him a chance, taking that chance, the vulnerability of a first kiss.
Moldova's Magical Tea by @aibidil [32k]
Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and—to everyone’s surprise—Draco Malfoy are opening a magical tea shop to revive wizarding tea culture and, hopefully, to bring the community together after the war. Harry, who is unemployed and trying to find his way in post-war society, wants to help his friends with their new business—but that means spending a lot of time around Malfoy. Featuring Muggle music from summer 2001, trips to the Muggle cinema, herbology and magical herbal infusions, and Draco trying to convince Harry that, while he’s still a snarky git, he’s no longer a bigot.
Pure Imagination by @aibidil [14k]
An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.
You See Through My Disguise by @aibidil [9k]
Bellatrix's knife flew across the room, but Harry leaped, pushing Dobby and Griphook to safety but stranding himself at Malfoy Manor. Now he and Draco are locked in the cellar with Wormtail's corpse and a rat, waiting for Voldemort to return and decide their fate.
when by now and tree by leaf by @aibidil [46k]
When Scorpius Malfoy is saying goodbye to his dying mother, he doesn't expect to hear her confess, "Your father slept with another man and became pregnant with you." Grappling with his grief and his identity, Scorpius sets out to discover his other father, who it turns out has a lighting-shaped scar and no idea that Scorpius exists.
When Times are Dire by @aibidil [130k]
Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.
I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!
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second chances - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 807
“Sirius, can we talk?” Remus makes an aborted motion at Sirius’s retreating back. James and Peter have already left, and transfiguration doesn't start for another thirty minutes. It’s the best time to have this conversation.
Sirius pauses, then raises an eyebrow, leaning against the door. His face is unreadable.
Remus nods. He’s grateful, at least, that Sirius hasn’t ignored him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unconsciously twisting the hem of his shirt.
Silence.
Remus takes a deep breath. This is harder than expected, but he promised himself he’d stop running away. He looks up, meeting Sirius’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I screwed up. I didn’t think of how I was hurting you. I.. I was afraid. I was so afraid of losing you –of losing what we had– that I chose to break my own heart before you could do it.” In the back of his head, he questions the Sorting Hat’s sanity for the millionth time.
Remus continues, “It’s not an excuse. I really am sorry.” He swallows. “I’m also sorry that I’m here now, putting you in this position, wanting to make up after I recklessly tore us apart.” He laughs, an ugly thing. “Merlin, I’m a selfish bastard, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” He’s long given up on eye contact. Remus stares at the ground, refusing to blink. He takes a deep breath.
“I.. I think I’m in love with you.” Remus thinks he hears a hitch in Sirius’s throat, but he can’t be sure. The next part is difficult, but it needs to be said. He owes it to the years of friendship between them.
His words come out faster. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it. Really, I do. I’m a pessimist, I’m flawed, I get in my own head. I’m trying, but I’m not perfect. And- And if you’d rather stay friends, I’ll be okay. Well, not okay but I’ll be fine-” Now it was Remus’s breath hitching. He blinks, then ducks his head, swiping his arm against his eyes. He’s humiliated himself enough.
There’s silence again, but Remus has finished his daily quota of courage. “I guess that’s all I had to say.” he shuffles his feet, lifts his head, looking anywhere but Sirius. He laughs once, bitter. “You know, I’d really appreciate a response.”
It’s quiet. Remus swallows. “I guess silence is an answer.” He screws his face up, willing himself not to cry. He really had fucked up, hadn’t he? He wonders if he’ll be okay.
“You-” He stops. He wants Sirius to leave. He starts again, “You’ll have to give me some time to deal with it, you understa-” Warm hands cup his face, and his words get stuck in his throat. They gently guide him to look forward, and Remus’s eyes widen as he realizes that Sirius –Sirius, who’d rather be humiliated publicly by Snape than cry– has puffy, red eyes. He still looks gorgeous, the git.
“Don’t cry, Moony.” he croaks, voice cracking after being silent for so long. Remus feels him gently cup his cheek, wiping away tears. Oh. He hadn’t realized that he was crying. He guesses willpower can only do so much. He feels exhausted, suddenly.
Sirius is still talking, words tumbling over each other, frenetic. “You shouldn’t ever be sad. Never, never, never–” he cuts himself off. “You deserve to be happy. Always.”
Remus looks away, his face still being held hostage by the tenderness in Sirius’s movements. He can’t be comforted. What Sirius isn’t saying cuts like a sharp edge. He can feel acid at the back of his throat, and curses himself for expecting a different answer.
“Look at me,” Sirius says, his voice gentle. It rarely is, and Remus can’t fight it.
“I think I’m in love with you too.” Remus is caught off guard. There’s no way to misinterpret that. The voices in his head can’t contest it.
“Don’t ever say that you’re not enough.” His voice is steady now. “I’m definitely more flawed than you are. I’m cruel, I’m superficial, I have too many trust issues.” Remus’s eyebrows draw together. He doesn’t agree, but his mouth has decided that that’s enough words for today. Sirius understands, like always. They’d always been like that, having conversations with glances, not needing words. In hindsight, that had become a bad thing when they’d stopped communicating.
“Shh, let me finish. I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I noticed that you were acting differently, but I was too afraid that you were having second thoughts about me. I wanted to pretend everything was alright so that it didn’t end. ” Remus, again, wants to interrupt, but he’s stopped by Sirius’s earnest stare.
Sirius leans in. “I’m selfish too,” he whispers, “how about we try again?”
And just like that, Remus dares to hope.
#wolfstar#marauders#marauders era#sirius black#sirius orion black#remus lupin#remus john lupin#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#this is honestly just dialogue#i love feedback!#wolfstar microfic#my writing
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Harry wants it known that he’s at the ministry’s Yule gala under duress. It was all he could do to force himself into his dress robes and make himself presentable; he can’t fathom where he’ll find the energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.
People he barely knows keep coming up to him – as they always do – to shake his hand, chat with him about this and that, thank him for his role in defeating the dark lord. (Still. He really wishes they’d stop doing that. It’s been more than six years now.)
And then there are pockets of people, staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Another constant in his public appearances, though he imagines the content of their conversations is at least a little different from usual, if not the tone.
He’s just escaped another fan and is looking to make a beeline for the bar when it happens. Harry sees his doom approaching from several metres away but, since they saw him first and he (stupidly) refuses to run away, he stands there like an idiot, wishing he were anywhere else.
“Hi Harry,” Ginny says. It looks like she wants to hug him or get close, and his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. Thankfully, she stays where she is.
“Hullo Ginny,” he replies and, without looking at the man, utters a terse, “Malfoy.”
The smug arse smirks at him. “Potter.”
“How’ve you been?” Ginny asks, which. Rude. If she actually cared about that, she wouldn’t have cheated on him with the git on her arm, but whatever.
“Oh, fine. Y’know, keeping busy.” God, he hates small talk.
Before he can respond with the requisite, ‘And you?’, Malfoy jumps in. “Yes, I suppose you have been, from what I’ve heard.”
Ugh. Fucking Malfoy. Harry wishes he had a drink or seven. He can’t believe he’d rather be caught in another conversation with that weirdo from earlier about his wand-care habits, of all things.
Ginny gently elbows Malfoy in the side with a chiding, “Draco.”
He’s considering the merits of letting himself be ripped apart by the anti-apparition wards to get away from this conversation – splinching himself can’t be much more painful than this – when a hand bearing a very welcome drink appears in front of him. That’ll do for now, though splinching is still on the table. Especially when he follows the hand to the arm up to the face and of course it’s Ri– Tom.
Harry gives him the side-eye, but accepts the drink. “Thanks.”
Tom leans in slightly, just enough so the two in front of them can’t read his lips. “You looked like you might be in need of a rescue.”
And as he pulls back out of Harry’s personal space, he rests a hand low on Harry’s back. Harry tenses for a moment before just accepting that tonight is all about him being as uncomfortable as possible. He takes a gulp of his drink – something dark and spicy. It burns pleasantly.
When he starts paying attention again, he finds Ginny looking at Tom with surprise; Malfoy is looking at the other man with – is that a hint of fear? And Tom is staring them both down, but somehow managing to do it with a veneer of politeness.
“Good evening, Draco,” he says pleasantly. “Ginevra.”
“Riddle.” Malfoy’s greeting is stiff, as is the awkward, aborted bow he gives. Hmm.
“And Harry,” Tom says, turning to look at him fondly. “So good to see you again.”
Hoo boy.
“You,” Harry murmurs from behind the rim of his drink. “Are not subtle.”
Tom takes the opportunity to slide his hand further around Harry’s back, lightly gripping his hip and pulling him closer up against Tom’s side. He returns Harry’s withering look with an undaunted smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that.”
“When did you two get so cosy?” Ginny cuts in. Her tone is playful, but there’s more than offhand curiosity lurking beneath.
“Uh.” Shite, he doesn’t ever want Ginny to find out how this started, but especially not in public. Who knows who’s listening in or watching. “We ran into each other by chance a month and a half ago” –actually, he’s how I found out you were fucking Malfoy behind my back– “and we’ve met up a few times since then. It’s nice to have someone… uninvolved to talk to.”
Tom looks amused at that. He’s definitely involved in the demise of Harry’s relationship, and if there’s one thing they haven’t been doing (but probably should), it’s talking.
“I’ve been helping him expand his horizons,” Tom says without apparent innuendo, yet somehow the layered meaning is still obvious. Prat. “Getting him to try new things, keeping him busy.”
“You and half the town,” Malfoy mutters under his breath.
“I see…” Ginny says over him. “Funny how that escaped the rumour mill.”
Harry laughs awkwardly, wishing for a stray lightning bolt to strike and put him out of his misery. “Must not’ve been exciting enough.”
The conversation dies for long enough to become uncomfortable - well, even more so. Malfoy touches Ginny’s elbow and leans down to speak into her ear. Harry seizes their distraction to turn on Tom.
“Are you sure you don’t want to piss on me to mark your territory while you’re at it?” he asks dryly.
Tom wrinkles his nose delicately in disgust. “No need to be crude. Though…” He gives Harry a considering once-over. “I’m not at all opposed to the idea of you carrying my mark. How do you feel about tattoos?”
Harry snorts. “Not a chance.”
The other man tucks his face in close to Harry’s, breath hot against the skin beneath his ear. “What about bruises?”
As though he doesn’t regularly leave an abundance of those on Harry anyway, what with his penchant for treating Harry like a chew toy. Harry shivers all the same, just a little bit. He can feel the barest brush of Tom’s grin against his neck.
Ginny clears her throat pointedly.
“Good to know,” Tom breathes as he pulls back.
Ginny continues trying to talk to him while Malfoy makes the odd snide comment, Tom attempts to meld into Harry’s side while replying for him and being subtly insulting, and Harry tries to become one with the floor. He realises he’s missed a question when he breaks out of his daze to find both Tom and Ginny are watching him expectantly.
“Huh?”
Ginny starts to say something when Tom cuts her off. "Care to dance?"
If looks could kill, Tom would be in a bad way with how Ginny’s glaring at him. "Harry doesn't dance," she says tetchily. Tom doesn't bother with her, waiting for Harry's wary nod.
He looks back at Ginny smugly. "Perhaps yet another new thing to which I can introduce him.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Harry says, grabbing Tom’s wrist and dragging him towards the dance floor. Best to get this over with, and all the better if it means he doesn’t have to speak with anyone else in the meantime.
"She's not wrong," he mutters once they don't have to fear being overheard. "I don't dance.”
"Just follow my lead," Tom replies easily. “Would it be correct to say you don’t particularly care about stepping on my toes?”
Harry stares at him blankly for a moment before he feels a reluctant smile appear on his face. “It might be the one redeeming part of this.”
“The only one?” Tom says archly, pulling him into the correct hold. And, without giving Harry a chance to breathe or think, they’re off in what Harry thinks might be a waltz.
"That was quite the risk you took," Harry says, trying not to stare at his feet and hoping for the best as Tom spins him around the room. He is, oddly enough, a much better dancer when he’s not constantly concerned about crushing someone's foot.
"Was it?"
"Yes. What made you think I wouldn't refuse and let you look foolish?"
He catches sight of a pleased grin on Tom's face from the corner of his eye. "The same thing that made me ask you to dance when I've seen your previous forays. You rise to the occasion when I push you.” He looks at Harry, for a moment, proudly. “I also knew you’d be more than amenable to anything that got you away from those two.”
Harry can’t deny that.
“Now look sharp, and do try to keep up,” Tom says, the hand at Harry’s lower back gripping him a little tighter.
“Wha–?”
And it’s all he can do not to trip over his feet and take them both down in a painful sprawl, but the rush, the heady triumph of making it through the successive, intricate turns, goes straight to his head. Before he can stop himself, Harry lets out a loud peal of laughter, further disrupting the couples around them and drawing sneers and disapproving glances. And he just doesn’t care. Not that he thinks he normally would’ve, but it feels like it’s been ages since he’s felt so light and happy. So, he doesn’t think about the people around him. He doesn’t think about how it’s Tom who’s making him feel this way. He just basks in the sun-warm feeling of contentment – of being okay for the first time in a while.
(One night)
#harry potter#tom riddle#tomarry#fic snippet#the fic itself contains smut#and infidelity#(not between hjp and tmr)#but tom is objectionable in other ways#harry deserves better than these numpties
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Devil here again! Thanks a lot for your answers! Yeah, I'm basically on the opposite side of escapism where I try to torture myself with every media I engage with. It's a rather unique way of engaging with media and it worries some. But It's what I enjoy. I try to learn and compare and engage with most media like I would philosophy. There is a **LOT** to do about the game. Lots of big things need updates, reworks, etc, one of which is the combat system that's being worked on too. The Baileys daddy-issues thing taken out of context is far worse than what it actually is. Inside the server basically all the Bailey fans are well aware that fatherly issues are a large draw towards characters like Bailey, Eden and even Avery. A friends server I'm in even uses custom stickers for "Daddy Issues Club". The Abortion thing, yeah, it's hard to properly explain things to many different people many different times and attrition just wears down peoples energy and drive, so sometimes things just start getting brushed off and hit with a "No because we said so." The Evilness and Rudeness has toned down a lot, some still remains but that is in general part of the culture, I've become well aware I can't be that way to everyone and to better read the room. The thing about peoples social media I've stopped doing. Yeah it's public but still, I'm an admin, this is a big server, it's just rude. Instead we've started DMing people we see with a lot of linked accounts or if we see private info on them to alert them in private that they might be in danger of people seeing things they don't want seen. Puris aesthetic is very much yellow and angel based, but yeah, no self-inserts in DOL. We are very much against that given the themes of the game. Sydneys whole thing is that their fate is decided by others. They are rather spineless and the Temple has dictated their entire life up until they met the Player/PC. At that point now Sydneys life is in the players hands. But no matter what we as the players do Sydney is doomed to a life of danger and pain. When it comes to contributions they are reviewed and approved by Contribution Managers which are trusted and experienced individuals. These CMs talk to people, teach them, give them notes on how to edit scenes. Once these scenes are completed and reviewed they are put into the pipeline to be coded into the game by our Coders. They send Merge Requests to the Git, where these merge requests are usually checked once more and then approved by Puri or Vrel and such. Before all this it was far easier for people to sneak things in. Edens OOC soft content, Trans-Coded Robin content, basically **ALL** of Morgan and his...incestious rat-eating.
Ooh, a rework on the combat system? 👀✨ Now that's something I would genuinely look forward to, since I built a story of my PC being a kind of fighter who plays filthy dirty hehehe >:)
Once again I have to ask: no Mommy Issues Club? 🥺 In all seriousness, it does tells about the fandom - or at least the server specifically - that there's more emphasis on problematic fatherly figure than motherly ones :0c
Oh yes, exactly one-on-one with how I view Sydney's whole character <3 They have absolutely no control over their own life, they are just switching control from the Temple to PC. What an absolutely self-destructing cutie, I love them so much 💖✨
The contribution system sounds really interesting! How are the Contribution Managers chosen? Were they handpicked personally, or were there application out for anyone to apply for it? And now I have to ask: from the sound of it, Morgan's everything is a mess. How did their character got so 'bad' to this point? I feel like Eden's Soft OOC-Ness and Robin's Trans-Codedness (appearently? Never notice that huh) doesn't seem as bad as Morgan?
Also wait, Trans-Coded Robin moments? I am probably just blind but I'd love if anyone can point out what these moments are because I do not notice any of them 👁👄👁
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Anyone wanna my 2 cents on Jade Shadows?
Spoilers bellow frens ;3
So, right off the bat (before I put my personal personal thoughts out there), we need to acknowledge the criticism and outright discomfort this quest had.
Some of the criticism this quest got is something I can agree with. Specifically; Jade Shadow's needed more time. 100%. Let them cook, or more importantly, let the story cook and maybe even burn a bit to give us some crispy, smokin hot parts.
The little footnote at the end of the quest saying we have 'more questions than answers'? We get it, you're self-conscious, but that doesn't give you an excuse for not giving me Stalker. PERIOD, BITCH.
Jest aside, srsly, we needed to know more about Jade, Stalker, what happened to them, baby Orion (Halo possessed me in that moment, iykyk), etc. People needed to get invested in the characters, especially because this is a quest so close to being like Sacrifice on its level of storytelling...
Had it been able to have just 30+ minutes longer.
Onto the 2nd part of the criticism, birthing sim:
I'll be honest, as someone who was thinking of even going into being a midwifery/allied health, it didn't freak me out as much as it did others. But that's just one side of it. The other is how people say Jade's agency was ignored.
I'll be honest, this is just wrong. It's not media illiteracy by any means, but rather pure ignorance. Why?
Because her agency is declared.
When?
"... you're going to be a father." OH, and the fact she literally wanted the baby. There are plenty of people who can explain it better than that, and whilst I acknowledge people may feel this way, this was, in fact, not what happened.
Also, this quest is not pro-life, nor is it anything related to that. If it was, I assure you, you would have a majority of the fan base up and walk. Take a chill pill. If you want to attack something for being pro-life, go help out at an abortion clinic with crowd control or smth. Because once you see that, you'll understand just how wrong you are.
It's not subtle.
It's not in between the lines.
It doesn't exist.
The end. Period. Fullstop.
The criticism is fair, but going so far as to say those are the undertones is just not on. Not only are you lying about something, but you are also disrespecting the very real women whom have had their agency denied in one way or another.
Now, that's not the only criticism about it, but those are just a few things you may see floating on tumblr. Again, both are ok and fair. But when you start to spread lies or ignore what actually happened, you're part of the problem, not the solution.
Now, onto the fun stuff!
Imo, aside from what was stated before, the quest was actually pretty fun and interesting. The pair make an interesting concept, especially now with the lil fugly bean, which has stolen a place in my cold, brainrotted heart. I think I like the Corpus Cap the most- pls marry me, pls. Oh, an Hunhow? Let me hug him. Let me give him a home on my ships. Let me tell him he can be my bestie!!!
Back to Stalker, though, I really hope we see more of him, especially now he's git a VA.
Speaking of, homie didn't get to speak often, but God did it hit home when he did. You can feel how desperate he is, then when he gets his answers, how lost he is. Finally, resolution and love ehen he names his lil kid at the end.
Music was on point, too. I can't listen to it tho bc Ik ima be sobbing lol. It was so beautiful!!!!!!!
Lorewise, however, I have so many fucking questions, but in the funny haha/good way.
Was jade pregnant b4 being a wf? If not, Stalker...
Why was their relationship shamed upon? Was Jade a Dax and him, well, him? Or was it because they weren't married? What was it that made the Orokin make em into Warframes? Also, Ballas, man, we know your hypocritical ass is in this shit too.
Also, Umbra and Helminth are confirmed to roam around the Orbiter, and vc Umbra is my main, this is a personal achievement. Now let us see it happen, and I'll be DE's 4 life.
But seriously, TL;DR:
Jade Shadow's was a good quest, it just needed to cook slightly longer. And, until we get more Umbra x Stalker from DE (bros b4 all), I'll be on AO3 in 3 (maybe 4) tags.
See in the next Stalker stan post :)
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Shit like this drives me crazy. Being able to argue for your point is important, actually. Like I get that this is supposed to be about niche situations where someone is unwilling to be persuaded and uses complicated language to avoid conceding the point, but to be honest, bad arguments are far more common.
Not to be an asshole, but git gud!! Persuasion is a learned skill, and it reflects how much you actually understand what you believe. If you can’t explain why access to abortion is important, then you are likely to be swayed by people who can articulate themselves.
#making this unrebloggable because it’s kind of mean#I don’t want a million people jumping down my throat about intellectual disabilities#op
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Snakes Den
Part 2!
Harry was thrilled that it was the weekend. He couldn’t deal with anymore classes, already dreading homework that hadn’t been assigned yet. His professors were already giving him looks because it was obvious he was not one hundred percent there.
He was also glad he didn’t have to immediately deal with all the whispers. Because there were always whispers about him.
He hated it.
So, he slept in. His bed was suspiciously comfortable in the new dorm – it made him curious about Slytherin house rules on charms.
He skipped breakfast altogether, not even sneaking into the kitchen to badger the elves for a small snack. He simply lounged about his new, temporary, home.
Things weren’t bad down in the dungeons. The room was spacious enough that three grown boys wouldn’t trip over each other. The beds were heaven to sleep in and the curtains were a pretty pattern – something nice to look at when he couldn’t sleep. The eighth years even had their own attached bathrooms. Hell, they had a fireplace in their room, plus it had a working floo-call point. And Harry was pretty sure he saw a note saying they were allowed to transfigure the three sad armchairs that were in front of the fireplace.
His dorm in Gryffindor was the same as it had always been. It hadn’t been working for him.
The private shower, on the other hand, most certainly was.
Which is how he ended up shirtless, rummaging through his trunk for a shirt, when his roommates strolled through the door.
A collection of books, scrolls and quills went clattering to the floor. They laid abandoned as both Malfoy and Zabini stared at Harry’s exposed chest.
“Those are runes,” Malfoy said to no one in particular. He stepped over the pile of stuff, arm twitching in an aborted movement. “And so many of them too...”
“Uh...” Harry hastily found a shirt, the tag scratching his chest. But that feeling was nothing compared to the nerves rattling his entire body because Malfoy was still staring at his chest.
Zabini hummed. “You’ve been dabbling in the Dark Arts.”
“Dabbling. Honestly Blaise. He has clearly done more than that.”
“Well, we don’t know if those hurt or not.”
Malfoy scoffed, not even turning his head to look at his friend. “Don’t be daft. Those were perfectly done. Perfectly healed.”
Zabini crossed his arms, scowling at the back of his friend’s head. “You’re the expert,” he said snarkily.
“Between our families someone has to.”
Before the pair could continue their bickering, Harry interrupted. “Are you going to include me in this conversation at all?” He asked, and after a moment he added, “Are you going to tell someone?”
Malfoy blinked once, twice, thrice. “You’re an idiot,” he said, finally tearing his eyes away from the other man’s chest. Levitating the clutter on the floor, Malfoy moved towards the fireplace, muttering under his breathe.
Zabini suddenly let out a laugh, followed immediately with a sigh. “This is going to be a long year.” He paused on Harry’s face. “We won’t tell anyone. Slytherins are great secret keepers,” he said with an eyeroll. He turned to the door, calling out as he did so. “I’m getting Pansy!”
“So…” Harry said, drawing out the ‘o’ as he put his shirt on the right way.
“If you ask me another stupid question, I will hex you,” Malfoy replied immediately, not even looking up from what he was doing.
Harry rolled his eyes, ungraciously flopping into the armchair next to Malfoy. He winced when he landed on a piece of wood, the cushioning non-existent. “You know a lot about the Dark Arts then?” he asked. Almost immediately he let out a yelp, rubbing his now sore and stinging thigh. “What the hell you git!?”
“I told you,” Malfoy said, finally looking back up at Harry. “Ask a stupid question, you get hurt.”
“It wasn’t a stupid question,” Harry huffed. He sunk further into his chair.
Malfoy raised a brow in response.
“Sue me for wanting to double check so I don’t make a fool out of myself.”
Malfoy didn’t hesitate to say, “You don’t need any help with that.” The smirk on his lips was clear in his tone.
“No.” Harry sat upright, unable to keep still under the other boy’s gaze. “You do all the work, you damn manipulative snake.”
Malfoy’s smirk only grew. “Careful, Potter, you’re one too now.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to act like you.”
“Well you’re here for a reason.” Malfoy rolled his eyes, adding, “Obviously.”
“Are you going to be a git this entire year?” Harry asked. For a second, he sounded tired – truly done with any form of conflict.
“For your information, I am charming, Potter. Do you know what that word means?”
“You are the opposite of charming. Can you at least be bloody civil with me?”
“I won’t murder you in your sleep,” Malfoy stated, body language screaming disappointment. When he got nothing but a glare in return, he sighed deeply. Potter was no fun. “Fine. Oh, you’ll need to look out for the first years a lot.”
“Sure? Why would I do that?” Harry didn’t know why the blonde would even care. He had seen Slytherins tease, and prank, and frame innocent students from the other houses. First years included.
“Don’t be daft. You know how we’re treated. Even if we don’t like each other, us snakes keep an eye out because no one else will.”
And that – well, that put a wrench in what Harry thought Slytherin was. He didn’t trust that they wouldn’t turn on their own housemates, but the idea that they look out for each other, and specifically the young ones, was different. It made him wonder if some of the things he saw in the previous years was simply the older students trying to protect the young ones.
If he was being honest, he had never cared – or thought – about the bullying until his life turned upside down. He could no longer stand by while some random, innocent second year was berated for their house.
Harry’s next words were soft. “I figured the bullying would stop after the war.”
“Circe. I may just strangle you.”
“Hey!” Harry’s sombre mood disappeared as quick as it came.
The door was suddenly thrown open, interrupting the pair. Zabini and Parkinson strolled into the room.
“Oh good, you two haven’t killed each other,” Parkinson said, face bored but eyes curious.
“Yet,” Malfoy added. The tips of Parkinson’s lips tipped upwards.
“You just promised not to kill me!”
“In your sleep. I may well still while you’re awake.”
“Okay boys,” Parkinson interrupted. She merely rolled her eyes at the harsh glares that were directed her way. “I’m here for Dark Runes, not squawking.”
“Why should I even be talking to you lot about this?” Harry asked her, eyes narrowing at the young lady.
Parkinson looked him up and down, eyes calculating. It was as if she was putting together all the pieces of Harry and dissecting them again, finding weaknesses. She seemed like the type of woman to know everything about you – whether it be against your will or not.
“We’re the only ones to talk to. I know you’re not daft, Potter, so stop acting like it,” Pansy all but scolded him.
And Harry didn’t have a comeback for that. He knew it was the truth. The first person he had tried to ask was Malfoy of all people. Deflating into his chair even more, Harry crossed his arms, trying to not look eager. “Well, that doesn’t explain you guys being nice – civil.”
The three (original) Slytherins shared a look before replying with something about their house code. Then, taking turns, Parkinson mentioned she was supposed to be making good connections, and her family would see him as the best one possible. Both Zabini and Malfoy said their families would hate the mere idea that they would be friendly with each other, and that delights them to no end. Quietly, Malfoy added that one simply cannot fake the arts.
Zabini and Parkinson rolled their eyes.
Parkinson leaned slightly out of her seat, reaching across Malfoy, bringing one hand up to cover her mouth partially. She stared directly at Harry, a smirk playing on her lips. “Draco here is attracted to power. Dark magical power even more so,” she mock whispered, pulling back into her seat before the blonde could swat at her. She laughed as her friend started turning red.
“I’m going to murder you one day,” Malfoy said, pointing a spindly finger at her.
Parkinson waved him off. “In your dreams, darling.” She then moved the conversation back to runes.
She started off by talking about her own experience with them. She personally didn’t have any, but her mother had quite a few – most of them to do with healing and protection. Most of her relatives on her mothers’ side experimented in the Arts and had at least one rune either on their skin or on a tool. Her father’s side of the family, however, were more hesitant to utilise the Arts. Not after one of her uncles died trying to put a rune on his skin.
“He was a terrible man, though, and an incompetent wizard.” Although she didn’t say it, everyone knew from her tone she was glad the man was forever gone from her life.
“My mom,” Zabini started, immediately shooting Malfoy a look that had the blonde keeping his mouth shut. At least for now. “Doesn’t care for them. She has her specialities. I think mamma has them on her brewing tools though.”
Harry sat there, taking in the information. When the room went quiet, he turned to Malfoy.
“What?”
“Your turn,” Harry said.
Malfoy scoffed but complied. In his own way. “My father was fascinated with, him. And my mother was a Black. Need I say more?”
“Not if you’re going to act like that.”
“I’ve read some of her notes on the Dark Arts,” Harry said. It was comical how all heads whipped to stare at him – there should have been sound effects. It was then his turn to explain his own relationship with the Dark Arts. He didn’t tell them everything, obviously, but he told them all about the library. If someone was going to appreciate the magic of Grimmauld Place, it was going to be the three other people in the room.
It felt nice talking to them about it. It felt nice to talk to someone who didn’t think he was insane or ‘infected’ from the horcrux. Well, other than the twins of course.
Parkinson stood from her seat, stretching out with her arms above her head. She hummed to herself before starting to turn towards the door. “Come on Potter.”
Harry was scrambling out of his seat to follow her before he realised what he was doing. He opened his mouth to say something, but the girl beat him to it.
“We’re getting food. Come along,” she said, already halfway out the door.
Harry walked with her side-by-side as they made their way through lesser used hallways that led to the great hall. The comfortable silence that covered them grew tense with each step that brought them closer. His back hurt from straining his muscles, jaw clenched, his hands in fists in his pant pockets. As soon as the pair got past the threshold, the murmurs immediately started. Harry tried his damned hardest to not listen as he let Parkinson pile plates of food into his arms while she talked with one of the Slytherin girls. Harry didn’t know how long it took for them to start the trek back to the dungeons, but it felt like an eternity.
Before they got too far away, a familiar head of brown hair popped into view.
“Hey, Harry! Parkinson,” Neville greeted. He looked at the girl curiously but friendlier than most other people. Neville was a smart lad. If his friend was being civil with her, he would too because he trusted Harry’s intuition. And most importantly, Harry was his friend.
“Longbottom.” At least Parkinson was being surprisingly polite.
Harry smiled cautiously at his friend. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know what happened over ‘break’, or what’s going on with you, Hermione, and Ron, but I’m here if you want to talk? You know I don’t care what you do? You out of everyone deserves a break mate,” Neville said with a warm smile on his face. He meant every word.
Harry felt himself relax a little, something warm in his chest. “Thanks, Nev.”
Neville gave him one last smile before leaving the pair to it.
Harry had a little bit more hope for the year to come.
“Do you mind if I call you Harry?” Parkinson suddenly asked when they were almost to the dorms.
Harry fumbled a step. “No? Why would you want to though?”
“We’re going to spend a year together, and keeping up pretences can be so tiring,” she said. Honestly, on some days she couldn’t stand all the propriety and manners.
Harry shrugged.
Part 1 // Part 3
#fanfic#fic#drarry#draco x harry#dark arts#dark magic#eighth year#snakes den#slytherin skittles#strained friendship golden trio
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Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier, and today we will be talking about my Audrey || x Mouthwashing AU (I watched some Markiplier yesterday)
Ok so for anyone who doesn’t know: Mouthwashing is a game about a space crew of five crashing. It’s a horror and the trigger warnings are talk about rape and rape enabling, pregnancy related to that, gore, suicide, murder, a bit of cannibalism, and hallucinations. There’s a LOT to it, but that’s the bare bones I guess.
So in my AU, (is Irresponsible Plant Food a good name?) Pony Express, the company they work for and the whole reason they’re in space, has acquired a baby Audrey ||. They order the crew to take care of it and study it, if all goes well they also plan on getting more and selling it as a tropical space plant. So Jimmy, (Jimmy sucks and is one of the main characters), says that Anya should take care of it. Anya is an aspiring nurse who while really talented and intelligent has failed med school. He says she should be the one responsible for it so she can “prove” her abilities as a nurse, Curly (the Captain and enabler), agrees with the logic so Anya’s left with taking care of it completely. Daisuke probably visits Audrey || and talks to it, but I doubt he knows shit about taking care of a plant so he can’t really help. Anya doesn’t either, so she’s left feeling discouraged and starts doubting her abilities as a nurse.

(Yes, you get to see some of my messy art.)
Audrey || does grow up to around his Feed Me (Git It!) size around when they crash, probably fed off of paper cuts Anya has gotten and maybe blood bags if there’s any around. So Anya’s almost version of the song is her convincing Anya to feed it Jimmy, he’s a piece of shit anyway and they can tell she’s thought about it before. She feels guilty for the fact that it’s true, but she does get convinced and goodbye, Jimmy!


(Audrey || design’s based off a cool one I found when looking for a reference. Also I couldn’t find a good reference for the second drawing, so ignore that—)
After that, the next victim’s Curly. Sure, he claims to be her friend, but he enabled Jimmy, her literal abuser. So yeah, she convinces Anya to use him as her next meal. Curly doesn’t resist, but he really wouldn’t have been able to anyway considering how much the crash disabled him. I actually wrote a monologue for Anya for this part as well as some lyrics, so here!



After this, I’m thinking there’s two endings like there is to Little Shop of Horrors.
The good ending, and the one I originally came up with, is Audrey ||’s still craving for more and tells Anya she should feed him Swansea next. Swansea’s tough on the outside but a good guy deep down, so she refuses and explains she cares about him. They basically argue over it until Anya decides that she has to kill him, using Swansea’s axe to do so. Considering it’s a good ending, they probably get recused some time after he dies.
Trigger warning for abortion and death for the bad ending: Audrey || still asks for Swansea, but Anya, knowing she’s pregnant and not wanting a kid, tells him they should just attempt to abort the baby and have him eat it instead. Anya’s aware the probability of her surviving this is extremely low, but she’s at peace with this and feels if she dies, she deserves it. She unfortunately dies, Audrey || eating her and the rest of the crew.

Basically a summary/TLDR, this AU has also made me realize that Anya and Audrey would definitely be besties!
Sorry this was so long, this is what happens when my autistic ass combines two hyperfixiations 😭 Hopefully you at least enjoyed. Have a lovely day! :D
I might make some fanart fer this AU a'yours, if you don' mind that is. Love love love this concept, it's fuckin awesome.
Anya n Audrey would 100% be besties.
#i very much so enjoyed this#its very detailed n i love th' art you provided#thanks fer sharin sweetheart#twoey lsoh#audrey ii#mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#lsoh#little shop#little shop of horrors#lsoh au#mouthwashing au#crossover#au#alternate universe#lsoh/mouthwashing#💜#~ mutt🐾#dr pepper collective#answerin asks
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After trying Magit for a bit, I ended up doing my own simple+minimal thing for Git in Emacs, built on a generic function I wrote. The only piece I'm using from Magit is the with-editor package.
I wrote a function which pops open a buffer to run a command. The buffer is named after the full command. I can supply context which is added to the buffer name after the command, or override the name entirely. The buffer is created if it doesn't already exist. By "pops open", I meant the same way that for example the help buffer is popped open, with `pop-to-buffer` - I call it `pop-to-command`.
(I actually have two variants of the function - one runs the command in a raw terminal emulator buffer, and one runs it in an Eshell buffer with terminal emulation. Both use the Eat terminal emulator package. I use the Eshell+Eat variant for this, because it keeps my keybinds+UX more consistent+ergonomic, has TRAMP integration, and lets the with-editor package do its magic.)
(Because I'm using Evil for the greater efficiency+ergonomics of vi-style modal keybindings/UX, I wrap the base function to add a modal nicety: When the command starts, the buffer is put into vi "insert" state (or the "Emacs" state in the case of no-Eshell-just-Eat variant), so that I can interact directly with the command. When the command terminates, the buffer is automatically put into vi "normal" state, so that I automatically return to the keybinds I use for switching/manipulating Emacs buffers, windows, etc.)
I then have a wrapper function to run Git commands with that pop-to-command function, using the current buffer's Git repository as the context.
So let's say I'm editing a file inside a Git repo I have cloned at `~/code/my-cool-project`, I save some changes, and I'm ready to stage them. I hit a keybind, and Emacs pops a buffer named `*eshell: git add -p (~/code/my-cool-project)*`. Since it's running `git add -p`, I am just using the normal Git CLI to review and stage hunks. Same knowledge and muscle memory that works outside of Emacs. Same diff view as outside of Emacs, which would be worse than Magit but lets me reuse better-than-Magit diff improvements like git-delta and difftastic. In the very rare event that I need the granularity of the "e" action in `git add -p`, that opens in my current Emacs instance thanks to with-editor. (Naturally I also have keybinds for the "-p" versions of git checkout, git reset, and git stash.)
When I'm ready to commit, I hit another keybind, and Emacs pops a buffer named `*eshell: git commit (~/code/my-cool-project)*`. Thanks to with-editor, that immediately opens the commit message for editing in Emacs itself, in the same window. When I'm done editing, my normal "save and close" keybind makes the commit - I can also quit without saving to abort the commit. (I monkey-patched with-editor using Emacs' "advice" so that if I save and then quit as two separate Emacs commands, the change is still left saved in Git's COMMIT_EDITMSG file even though the commit isn't made, as would normally happen with any other editor.) Naturally, I have a separate keybind for `git commit --amend`.
Magit automatically always shows the staged diff in a separate buffer while writing/amending a commit. I don't normally need that, but it's really nice to have when I do. I get this on-demand because I have two more keybinds: one for `*eshell: git diff (<current-repo>)*` and one for `*eshell: git diff --staged (<current-repo>)*`. Or sometimes I just leave the `*eshell: git add -p (...)*` buffer open until I'm done commiting.
Of course I also have keybinds for other git commands that I regularly want: git log [-p], git reflog, git pull, git push [--tags] [--force], and so on. Anything I use often enough to get annoyed by the handful of keystrokes it takes me to open Eshell and execute that command from a fuzzy-find on my shell history. (The only Git operation I don't handle this way is blame - I use the built-in vc-annotate for that, configured to wrap lines instead of truncating. The indirection of Eshell-running-Git-running-a-pager doesn't bother me with diffs and logs, but it bothers me in blame due to the different patterns in reading/navigation/search/copying. Also the color-coding by age is nice, and the step-back-through-blame-history feature is one I find valuable when I have to do code archeology to figure out the cause or intent of code which doesn't make sense.)
I have a nice keybind for `quit-window` in these run-one-command buffers which doesn't make sense in normal Eat and Eshell buffers. (Because I'm using Evil, this nice keybind is the mere "q" in vi "normal" state, which overlaps wonderfully with the "q" that you get in the default `less` pager when doing `git log` and so on. So for example I just hit "q" once to quit the log command and once more to quit the window - so I keep the benefits of totally decoupled composition where these pieces don't have to understand/track/assume anything about each other, while still getting something so ergonomic and intuitive that I never notice any delays, mistakes, or cognitive load.)
For me this approach covers basically all the value that I would get from Magit, without any of the rare-but-annoying latencies that I sometimes hit with Magit (or common-and-annoying latencies that I always hit with Magit when using Emacs in Termux on my Android phones). I sorta, theoretically, very very very rarely, miss the ability to just put my cursor on a diff hunk and stage/unstage it with a key stroke, or drill down into the diff for just one commit when already looking at a log. But I basically don't miss it - because it would only save me a few seconds and a handful of keystrokes. I don't miss Magit automatically reusing the diff buffer for staged and unstaged diffs, making it impossible to see both side-by-side. I really don't miss Magit asking me to save the file every time I asked for a Git diff. So I gain some value this way too.
I have some desire to eventully put the pop-to-command functions into their own package on the Non-GNU ELPA, and maybe do the same with my minimal Git wrappers if there's demand.
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A Version Control System (VCS) is an essential tool for almost any development team that needs to track changes in their source code.Git was developed back in 2005 and today is by far the most commonly used VCS—almost all development teams that need to version and archive their source code use Git. Today, we will cover a few of the most common Git errors and discuss how you can potentially avoid or fix them.Fatal: Not a Git Repository (or any of the Parent Directories)This is one of the most common errors, especially for newcomers to Git. Let’s suppose you want to run git status in a particular directory:$ git statusfatal: not a git repository (or any of the parent directories): .gitFatal: not a git repository indicates that the command cannot be executed because the current directory is not a Git directory. Usually, you get this error due to one of two reasons.You forgot to initialize the repository as a Git repository using git initYou are in the wrong directory. (You can check your current work directory using PWD. It’s quite common for people to forget to change directories when cloning a Git repository.)Fatal: Refusing to Merge Unrelated HistoriesAnother very common error after git pull or git merge is the one shown below:fatal: refusing to merge unrelated historiesThis usually can happen mainly for one of two reasons:The .git directory got corrupted. This hidden directory contains information relevant to your project that is being version controlled (for example, information about commits, remote repositories, etc.). If the directory is corrupted, Git is unaware of the local history. Thus, the error is reported when you try to push to or pull from a remote repository.You are trying to pull from a remote repository that already has committed while you have also created a new repository locally and added commits. In such a case, the error is reported since Git is unaware of how these two are related (they are interpreted as two distinct projects).If this is the case, you need to provide the --allow-unrelated-histories flag. For example,$ git pull origin master --allow-unrelated-historiesThere’s also a chance of getting this error when you are trying to rebase and require a different treatment.$ git rebase origin/developmentfatal: refusing to merge unrelated historiesError redoing merge 1234deadbeef1234deadbeefThe process of combining commits to a new base commit is called rebasing. In other words, rebasing changes the branch’s base to a different commit so that it appears as if you have created a branch from that particular commit. The diagram below illustrates how rebasing work in Git.When git rebase fails with this error, rebase does not get aborted. It is still in progress. So, you can instead intervene manually.$ git statusinteractive rebase in progress; onto 4321beefdeadThe last command done (1 command done): pick 1234deadbeef1234deadbeef test merge commitTo solve this issue, you first need to merge and commit, and finally, force rebase to continue:$ git merge --allow-unrelated ORIGINAL_BRANCH_THAT_WAS_MERGED --no-commit$ git commit -C ORIGINAL_MERGE_COMMIT$ git rebase --continueXcrun: Error: Invalid Active Developer PathThis is a common error for OSX users that becomes even more frequent when a new major OSX release is made. The error is reported when you attempt to run any git command. For example,$ git statusxcrun: error: invalid active developer path (/Library/Developer/CommandLineTools), missing xcrun at: /Library/Developer/CommandLineTools/usr/bin/xcrunThe issue is related to the XCode Command Line Tools version that needs to be updated to resolve the error. To do so, open the terminal and run:$ xcode-select --installThe response should be:xcode-select: note: install requested for command line developer toolsSimultaneously, a pop-up window will appear on your screen asking you to confirm that you want to install command line developer tools.Simply click install, wait for the installation to complete, and open a new terminal session.
Git commands should now work as expected.Fatal: Unable to Create ‘.git/index.lock’: File ExistsWhen a git process crashes in one of your Git repositories, you may see the following error when you attempt to run a git command thereafter:fatal: Unable to create '/path/to/.git/index.lock': File exists.If no other git process is currently operational, that implies a git process crashed in this repository earlier.You can quickly fix this by manually removing the file:$ rm -f .git/index.lockError: Pathspec Did Not Match any File(s) Known to GitUsually, when you create a new branch using, say, the web UI of GitHub, and go back to your local terminal to checkout to the branch using the following command$ git checkout mybranchyou may get this error:error: pathspec 'mybranch' did not match any file(s) known to git.This usually means that your local repository is not updated with the latest information for the remote Git repository. To fix the issue, you need to fetch the information for the newly created branch:$ git fetchNow, git checkout should work fine.Permission Denied (Publickey)To clone remote repositories to your local machine, you need to ensure that you have properly configured authentication.At times, when you attempt to clone a repo, you get the following response:$ git clone [email protected]/username:test.gitInitialized empty Git repository in `/path/to/test/.git/`Permission denied (publickey).fatal: The remote end hung up unexpectedlyNow, there are potentially a couple of ways to resolve this issue. The easiest way is probably to use HTTPS instead to clone the repository to your local machine, which requires no public key validation:$ Alternatively, if you still need to use SSH to clone the repository, you’ll have to generate SSH public and private keys to configure proper authentication. To do so, make sure to follow the steps below.Navigate to your local .ssh directory and run ssh-keygen to generate keys$ cd ~/.ssh && ssh-keygenNow, copy the content of the generated file id_rsa.pub# OSX$ cat id_rsa.pub | pbcopy# Linux$ cat id_rsa.pub | clip# Windows$ cat id_rsa.pub | clipAdd the key to the appropriate section on the GitHub websiteMake sure your git configuration is correct$ git config --global user.name "your-user-name"$ git config --global user.email [email protected] you should now be able to clone the remote repository using SSH. For more details, you may refer to GitHub documentation.Final ThoughtsIn today’s article, we explored a few of the most common errors in Git. For each of them, we discussed potential reasons as to why these errors are being triggered and how to fix them.Git is a potent tool and is way more complicated than it looks. The community is great, and the internet is full of resources to help you resolve any issue you may have with Git.
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I think if James git a girl pregnant he'd be like fuckkk dude abort that thang. however. and hear me out.if James got lars pregnant or vise versa he'd be like "no we have to keep it. I'm serious we can't kill it lars we need to raise it"
#had a similar convo w louie once n the udnerlying consensus was 'james would keep it “ .#superstar#iguess
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A complete list of valid english words that are alphabetical
a
ab
abbe
abbes
abbess
abbey
abbot
Abel
abet
abhor
abhors
ablow
ably
abo
abort
abos
Abu
abuzz
aby
accent
accept
access
accost
ace
acer
acers
aces
achy
ack
act
ad
add
adder
adders
adds
addy
adeem
adeems
adept
adios
ado
adopt
ads
ae
aegis
aery
affix
afflux
afoot
aft
agio
agios
aglow
ago
ah
ahoy
ahs
ai
ail
ails
aim
aims
ain
ain't
air
airs
airt
airy
ais
ait
aitu
al
all
allot
allow
alloy
ally
almost
alms
alp
alps
alt
am
ammo
amor
amort
amp
amps
Amy
an
Ann
anno
annoy
Anns
Ans
ant
any
apt
arsy
art
arty
ary
as
ass
at
au
aux
aw
ay
BBC
b.c
be
bee
beef
beefs
beefy
been
beep
beeps
beer
beers
beery
bees
beet
befit
beg
begin
begins
begot
begs
bel
bell
bello
bellow
bells
belly
below
bels
belt
bely
ben
Benn
benny
bens
bent
Benz
berry
Bert
Bess
Bessy
best
bet
betty
bevvy
bevy
bey
bez
bi
bijou
bijoux
bill
billow
billowy
bills
billy
bin
bins
bint
bio
biopsy
bios
birr
birrs
bis
bit
bitt
bitty
bivvy
biz
bloop
bloops
blot
blow
blowy
BMX
Bo
boo
boor
boors
boos
boost
boot
booty
bop
bops
bort
boss
bossy
bot
bott
botty
bow
box
boxy
boy
brrr
BST
btu
buy
buzz
by
cee
cees
ceil
ceils
Cel
cell
cello
cellos
cells
celt
cent
cep
ceps
cert
cess
chi
chill
chills
chilly
chimp
chimps
chin
chino
chinos
chins
chintz
chip
chippy
chips
chirr
chirrs
chis
chit
chitty
chivvy
chiz
choo
choosy
chop
choppy
chops
chott
chou
choux
chow
choy
ci
cissy
cist
city
civvy
cloot
clop
clops
clos
clot
clotty
clou
clow
cloy
cm
co
coo
coop
coops
coopt
coos
coot
cop
cops
copy
coq
cory
cos
cost
cosy
cot
cow
cox
coxy
coy
coz
cru
crux
cry
cs
de
dee
deem
deems
deep
deeps
deer
deers
def
deft
defy
deist
deity
dekko
dekkos
del
dell
dells
delos
demo
demos
demy
den
Denny
dens
dent
deny
deo
dept
der
derry
derv
des
deux
dev
dew
dewy
dhow
di
dikkop
dikkops
dill
dills
dilly
dim
dims
din
dins
dint
dip
dippy
dips
dirt
dirty
dis
diss
ditty
div
divvy
dixy
do
doo
door
doors
dop
dops
dopy
dory
dos
doss
dost
dot
dotty
doty
doxy
Dr
dry
du
dux
eek
eeks
eel
eels
eely
eery
eff
efflux
effort
effs
eft
E.G
egg
eggs
eggy
egis
ego
egos
eh
ell
ells
elm
elms
em
Emmy
empty
emu
enow
envy
er
err
errs
erst
es
ess
est.
et
ex
fil
fill
fills
filly
film
films
filmy
filo
fin
Finn
finny
fins
fir
firry
firs
first
fist
fisty
fit
fix
fizz
floor
floors
floosy
flop
floppy
flops
floss
flossy
flow
flu
flux
fly
foo
foot
footy
fop
fops
for
fort
forty
fox
foxy
foy
fry
ft
fu
fuzz
g
ghost
ghosty
gill
gills
gilt
gimp
gimps
gimpy
gin
ginny
gins
girt
gist
git
gloop
gloops
gloopy
glop
glops
glory
gloss
glossy
glow
gm
GMT
gnu
go
goo
goop
goops
goopy
goos
goosy
gorsy
gory
goss
got
gov
goy
Gru
guv
guy
h
hi
hill
hills
hilly
hilt
him
hint
hip
hippy
hips
his
hiss
hist
hit
ho
hoo
hoop
hoops
hoot
hop
hoppy
hops
hors
horst
horsy
host
hot
how
hox
hoy
I
I’ll
I’m
ill
ills
illy
imp
imps
in
inn
inns
ins
io
iOS
IOU
is
it
itty
iv
ivy
ix
jo
joss
jot
joy
knop
knops
knot
knotty
know
Knox
kop
kos
lo
loo
loop
loops
loopy
loos
loot
lop
lops
lor
lorry
loss
lossy
lost
lot
Lou
low
lox
Loy
luv
lux
m
mm
Mo
moo
moop
moops
moor
moors
moos
moot
mop
mops
mor
mort
moss
mossy
most
mot
mott
Motty
motu
mou
mow
moz
mozz
MP
MPs
Mr
Mrs
ms
mu
mux
mx
my
no
noop
noops
nor
nosy
not
now
noy
nu
oops
op
ops
opt
or
ort
ow
ox
oxy
oy
oz
pps
pry
ps
psst
pst
qt
st
sty
tux
tv
there has got to be more words in alphabetical order than first. i have to make more bits in my coloring of the talliee
ABCDEFGHI KLMNOP RST W Y
20/26
#sorry#im avoiding doing work in class because its boring and i have a list of english words just sitting there#and the python code really isnt hard so i just#did it#then went through that list and removed all the misspelled words because my words list is from an online corpus of english
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𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲
Summary: After the events of the second Wizarding War, Draco Malfoy thought himself broken beyond repair. That is until Astoria Greengrass walked into his life and healed all his bleeding wounds. Now married and leading a happy life with her, it appears that Draco’s past choices have come to haunt him. With Astoria’s days becoming numbered due to an ancient blood curse, she asks Draco for a child to remember her by. But even after Scorpius Malfoy is born, something else seems to be threatening Astoria’s already limited time.
Pairing: DracoxAstoria, DracoxDaughter!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of abortion, miscarriage, and death.
Genre: Angst | Fluff
Word Count: 3.8K
All Masterlists | Draco Malfoy Masterlist
Part 1
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲.
What was once a prideful and witty wizard became no more than a haunted boy with far too many nightmares and bleak memories living in his head.
Wherever he went, men, women, and children reacted unkindly. On rare occasions, they would cower and run away from him as if he was about to whip out his wand and kill them at any moment. Most frequently, however, the entire wizarding community would not let him walk peacefully after the peace of mind he and other Death Eaters had robbed them of.
“Get out of here, scumbag.”
“Come to torment us anymore? No Dark Lord to hide behind now!”
“You and your family will always be a disgrace!”
Draco tended to walk regardless of all the daggers planted in his heart. He had a simple rule when it came to such situations: keep your head low and don’t react.
After Malfoy Manor became Voldemort’s temporary residence, Draco dreaded his family home. It held far too many memories of meetings and torture sessions that he’d seen enough in his nightmares--which was why he preferred the busy streets of England despite all the harsh words that accompanied him on every one of his walks.
Sometimes, during his moments of self-reflection, Draco wondered if he merited such distaste from the people around him. After all, everyone makes mistakes in their younger years. Some of his were minor, like being a git of a teenager who cared and valued a meager pureblood status more than anything. But then the others were appalling, gruesome, and perhaps unforgiving, like letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and serving the Dark Lord at the age of sixteen.
Draco was not proud of the actions he took in the past. But he knew if he somehow managed to get his hands on a Time-Turner, he wouldn’t change a thing because he was trying to protect his family.
After the war, the Malfoy heir became a shell of a man, reduced to a ghostlike figure that wandered around, watching people from afar without saying a word in return. He was no longer the slimeball Slytherin that taunted the entirety of Hogwarts. He was… well, he didn’t really know what he was.
The boy had forgone many things that previously made him who he was.
He abandoned his aspirations of being Hogwarts’ next Potions Master after the thought of returning to the school became too much to bear. He traded his Quidditch broom for books and his meetings with his friends for some much-needed solitude.
All he knew was that he was never the same. And he was incapable of healing.
One summer night, the Malfoys were invited for lunch at Greengrass Manor. They were old family friends, and one of the few sacred twenty-eight families that didn’t sever ties with Draco and his family.
The boy never fancied pureblood social gatherings, and after everything that had happened, he hated them even more. The façades, vanity, and the pureblood supremacy became too much for him.
Draco hesitated to step out of the house and into another pureblood vicinity. He hadn’t realized that caving to his mother’s wishes would change his life.
As he arrived at Greengrass Manor, he briefly greeted the hosts, engaging in a small talk with Daphne, one of his old friends at Hogwarts.
He was led towards the grand table and took a seat by his parents.
“Good evening. Welcome to our home, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy and Draco. I’m sorry for being late.”
Draco lifted his eyes to meet those of Daphne’s little sister.
“It’s alright, Astoria,” Mr. Greengrass spoke, gesturing to the seat next to his eldest daughter. “Take a seat, sweetheart. Dinner’s about to start.”
She nodded at her father before slipping into the chair next to her sister.
The older witches and wizards began conversing during the meal, although Draco had no idea about what. He tuned out the voices, his mind elsewhere as he played with the food on his plate.
His mother had taught him better as a child, and had he been his former self, he would’ve joined them and engaged in the conversation as Daphne did. But the new Draco was distant, gloomy, and far too solitary for his own good.
Draco dipped his head; it was second nature at this point after spending too many times sitting at the same table as the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters. He rolled the carrots around with his fork when he felt someone’s heavy gaze on him. And when he lifted his eyes to see who it was, Astoria Greengrass’s hazel eyes fled almost instantly.
He sighed and placed his fork on the plate. It became suffocating to sit within four walls. “Thank you for the food, Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass. If I may be excused, I’d like to get some fresh air.”
The adults nodded, instructing the boy toward the entrance of their garden. He dipped his head solemnly and walked out.
When the cool breeze hit his pale skin, only then did breathing feel less of a hassle. He walked ahead with no particular destination in mind, brushing his long and pale fingers over plants and flowers as if to ground himself instead of getting too far gone into another one of his nightmares.
He sat on one of the stone benches in the middle of the garden and stared at the moon. It amazed him how such a fragile and bruised thing could still find the courage and strength to shine so brightly.
“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing.” Draco tilted his head, coming face to face with Astoria. She smiled sheepishly at him, holding two goblets in her hands. “You didn’t eat anything, so I thought I’d at least bring you something to drink. It’s pumpkin juice.”
Draco hadn’t realized he was scratching his left forearm until he reached out to take the goblet from Astoria’s hand. He mouthed a small thank you and curled his fingers around the metal. “Would you like to stay?” he asked, seeing her about to turn on her heels. He didn’t know what came over him, but he was tired of being alone.
She nodded, smiling broadly as she gingerly sat beside him, keeping a respectful distance between them.
For a couple of moments, neither of them said anything. The wind picked up and flowed freely around them. Draco’s eyes lingered on his left forearm, his right index finger tracing the goblet's rim.
“It’s there, isn’t it?”
He lifted his eyes to meet Astoria’s curious ones. He knew what she was talking about, but Draco decided to play dumb. “What is?”
She gripped her goblet with both hands and looked down. “You know what I’m talking about,” she replied, meeting his cold and sharp eyes. Draco said nothing. He retreated his gaze back to the sky, occluding and compartmentalizing his thoughts. If there was one good thing that came out of the war, it was the Occlumency his late aunt Bellatrix had taught him.
“I suppose you too want a go at me?” he seethed without looking at her. Had he, though, he would’ve noticed the softness twinkling in her hazel orbs.
“No. I’m a little curious why you took it,” Astoria clarified. “I don’t like to judge without knowing someone’s background story first. I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t look like you were proud to serve Voldemort.”
Draco winced at the mention of the wizard’s name. He looked at the witch incredulously. For a Slytherin, she was brave enough to say his name with no hint of apprehension nor fear. Even the greatest of wizards had refrained from uttering the name, opting for You-Know-Who instead.
Draco felt astounded at the girl’s boldness. For a fleeting moment, he didn’t want to answer. It was none of her business in the end. But then again, she was the only person willing to hear his side of the story. And Merlin knew the boy longed for somebody that would understand him.
“My father was in Azkaban,” Draco began, fleeing from Astoria’s solemn gaze. “The Dark Lord wanted me to follow in my family’s footsteps. He threatened to kill my father, to torture my mother in front of me, and should I fail the mission that was I assigned, the cost would be my life.”
“Family. You did it for your family,” the witch concluded, and the boy simply nodded.
“And I’d do it again. I regret many things, like letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts and almost killing Dumbledore. But protecting my family? That’s something I will never apologize for.”
Astoria carried so much kindness and understanding in her warm irises, Draco swore it made his pain dull.
She wanted to reach out and cover his hand with her own, but she feared crossing boundaries. So, she set her hands on her goblet but shifted in her seat to be slightly closer to him. “That was very brave of you. You sacrificed many things for your family’s safety. I think… I think you should be proud of that.”
It was the first time that Draco Malfoy felt his heart soaring. The corner of his lips itched, and he involuntarily found himself giving Astoria one of his genuine smiles, a smile he forgot all about ever since sixth year.
That night in the Greengrass gardens marked the beginning of Astoria and Draco’s blooming relationship.
Astoria and Draco started as friends, conversing and visiting each other now and then. They became inseparable because no one understood Draco as Astoria did, and no one made Astoria as happy as Draco did either.
And when the time came for Astoria to return to Hogwarts for her sixth year, she boarded the train hand in hand with the Malfoy heir, whom she convinced to come back and finish his studies.
It was hard. It wasn’t easy being back to the school that carried fond memories yet was a recurrent part of Draco's nightmares. It didn’t help that he was scrutinized and judged for the mark on his left arm. Draco Malfoy understood the consequences of his actions when he stopped being the bully and instead became the target. But with Astoria by his side, the hurt seemed to lessen.
She was always there to comfort him and be the shoulder he needed to cry on. She welcomed him with open arms and gazed at him with a look full of compassion and understanding. It didn’t take long before the two began to date, and when Astoria graduated from Hogwarts, Draco didn’t hesitate to ask for her hand in marriage.
But the world was not kind to Draco.
When he thought that he was healing with the love of his life, every wrong choice he made had to bite him in his ass.
An ancient blood curse bestowed upon the Greengrass bloodline resurfaced in Astoria, making her days numbered. The couple was numbed at this piece of information, tears welling up in each of their eyes.
All their dreams were shattered. Draco and Astoria didn't have long. They couldn't grow old together, nor could they get their happily ever after. All they had was now.
Astoria knew every one of Draco’s demons. She was aware of her husband’s fear of loneliness and the deafening silence he experienced before her arrival in his life. This was one of the reasons that made her come to a conclusion.
“I want to have a child,” she blurted out one evening after she couldn’t keep it in anymore.
She felt Draco tense from under her, and his heartbeats faltered beneath her touch. “No,” he declared with no room for negotiation, keeping his gaze away from her else he might falter.
Astoria sighed, knowing well he might react that way. She brought her face up to look at him, and her fingers brushed against his jaw. “Dray—”
“I love you,” Draco confessed, and his wife could see the tears glistening in his mesmerizing eyes. He tightened his arms around her petite figure. “You’re more than enough for me. I don’t need the bloodline to continue, nor do I need to be a father to feel accomplished. All I need is you. As much time as I can have you.”
Astoria choked on a sob. It was unfair that all her dreams were being ripped away. She didn’t know if she’d be able to deliver a child or live long enough to witness their growth. But all she knew was that she wanted a family. With Draco. So bad!
“I always wanted a family. And I don’t want to die without—”
“Don’t,” Draco commanded. Pushing himself against the bed’s headboard and pulling her away from him. “Don’t finish that sentence, love. Please.”
“I’m dying, Draco. I am, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” she admitted, her honey-brown hair covering her face, serving as a shield to hide her watery eyes and wet cheeks.
“I’m going to find a way—I need to find a way,” he confessed, cupping her face gently as if she was made of porcelain.
She adored him. Astoria loved him beyond comprehension, and she knew how much he loved her. And even though she didn’t want to leave him, even though she trusted him blindly, she knew his words were no more than empty promises. But despite all of that, she held onto them tightly in hopes of them coming true.
“I want a child,” she restated. “I want a part of me to live on even after I leave—Draco, please don’t look at me like that—I love you so much, it physically hurts. I don’t want to leave. But I want to start a family with you. One baby. One mini you and me, please. I will not ask for anything else.”
Draco loved Astoria so much that he accepted. He could never deny her wishes. Even if that resulted in her turning frail, he gave her what she wanted, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.
Scorpius was a carbon copy of his father. Silver eyes, platinum blond hair, and pale skin. He was intelligent, sharp minded, and quick-witted. But Draco adored that he carried his mother’s traits so perfectly well. He was curious, gregarious, and compassionate. And Draco knew that he had Astoria’s heart.
He loved his little family tremendously, and he was ready to sacrifice everything to protect them.
Over the years, Astoria became paler and sicker. The pregnancy she went through was the obvious cause.
However, lately, it seemed that her case had worsened. She brushed it off whenever Draco brought up taking her to the hospital, telling her husband not to worry. “I won’t let death stop me from taking Scorpius’ hand and leading him to the Hogwarts Express,” she’d say, knowing they still had five more years before that moment.
But dread slithered in Draco’s bones the moment Astoria lost consciousness during one of their family picnics. She hadn’t been eating well, feeling nauseous at the slightest of smells, her head pounded frequently, and she seemed to be even more tired.
So when she fell into his arms, unconscious, he panicked terribly, thinking that was it. That was the end of their story.
He held onto her unconscious form tightly, whispering confessions of love and pleading with her to open her eyes until she finally did.
As Draco sat by her hospital bed, tightly clutching her hand. Astoria, who was now conscious, was sniffing silently. She was terrified at the idea of leaving her family behind. She wasn’t ready.
“Mrs. Malfoy.” Healer Abbot walked in with a comforting smile. “Feeling better?”
Astoria shook her head, her words were wedged in her throat and her tears cascaded freely. Draco’s hold on her hand tightened, his knuckles turning white at the firmness.
“Astoria, dear, this isn’t related to your condition.” Both Malfoys froze at the Healer’s words. They didn’t know whether this piece of information was meant to be comforting or not.
“What is it about, then?” Draco carefully asked, studying the witch.
She smiled at the two of them, her eyes telling them she had good news. “The test results came back. What Astoria is going through is normal as she’s still within the first trimester of her pregnancy.”
“What?” Draco stood up abruptly, forgoing his hold on his wife’s hand.
Astoria was in a trance. Her eyes widened at the information, and the monitor next to her beeped louder as her heartbeats picked up. Her trembling hands moved down to her stomach as she laid them there, still reeling from what she heard. “I’m pregnant?”
Healer Abbot nodded. “Eight weeks, to be exact. I deduce from your reactions that this wasn’t planned?” Astoria said nothing while Draco sank back in his chair, raking his fingers through his hair. The Healer sighed. “Astoria, I won’t lie to you. With your condition, this pregnancy might be a little tough.”
“How tough are we talking about?” The witch’s voice cracked under pressure. She could see her husband fist his hand and bite it from the corner of her watery eyes.
“There’s a probability that you might undergo a miscarriage. If you do manage to maintain the pregnancy through labor, there’s a risk that either you or the baby won’t make it. You can still opt for an abortion. It isn’t late. And should you choose to keep the baby, we will do our best to mitigate the risks and get you both through these couple of months safely.”
“Thank you. I.. uh.. I appreciate it. Can I please rest for now?” It was all Astoria could say before the Healer left, letting her sink into her bed and close her eyes.
When she woke up, Draco was no longer by her bed. Instead, he stood by the windows, watching the busy streets below. They were married long enough for her to know that his shoulders were stiff and his mind was cooking dreadful scenarios.
“I’m scared, too,” she admitted in a small voice, pulling him out of his daydream.
He crossed the area and reached her side, pulling her in his arms. Draco buried his face in her neck, drowning in the intoxicating scent of her perfume that he adored. “I know it’s going to be hard, but I’ll be with you. Aborting the baby is the best option we have.”
Astoria gasped in shock. “What did you say?” She pulled away from Draco, looking at him in a mix of disappointment and disbelief. “Surely you’re not expecting me to terminate our child!”
“Yes. I am. You heard the Healer, Astoria. It’s your life or the child’s. I’m already losing you. I’m not ready for it to be so soon, which means the child has to go!” Draco declared angrily.
Astoria’s eyes filled with hurt. “How dare you, Draco Lucius Malfoy? I have not known you to be so heartless and cruel!”
“I’m neither of those things. Need I remind you of our agreement? One child. You asked for one child, and I obliged. You are now asking too much of me!”
“I remember that very clearly, but I didn’t expect to get pregnant again!”
“And you won’t remain for long,” he deadpanned.
Astoria was fuming. This was their baby, a product of their undying love. She knew she didn’t have long, but she was a mother, and as a mother, she was ready to die for her children.
So she did something she had never done before. She slapped Draco across his face. “I will kill anyone that dares to threaten my children. Including you, Draco! You will not touch him or her, or so help me Merlin, I’ll do much more than slap you.”
Without giving him a chance to let one word out, Astoria threw the covers of her bed aside. She put on her shoes, which were on the foot of her bed, and rushed outside the room.
And as she was walking, she saw her in-laws rushing toward her along with Scorpius and Daphne in tow.
“Mum!” Scorpius let go of his aunt and threw his arms around his mother. She held him tightly, inhaling his scent. “I missed you. Are you feeling better? Why are you crying?”
“I’m fine, my precious boy,” Astoria sniffed, fixing her son's fallen blond locks. She picked him up and hugged him with everything she had. She only hoped she’d live to do the same with her unborn child.
Narcissa put a hand on her arm, examining her tear-stained cheeks. “Darling, what’s wrong? Draco never informed us what the Healers told you.”
“Astoria!” Before the witch could answer, Draco’s enraged voice echoed throughout the corridor. He trudged towards her, then gripped her hand tightly, looking at her with anger and so much fear. “The conversation isn’t over.”
“Daddy? Why are you being mean to mummy?”
At Scorpius’ remark, Draco’s gaze softened. He loosened his grip on his wife’s hand and caressed his son’s face. The young boy seemed more relaxed. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to be angry. Love, come on, please. Let’s take Scorp home and finish our conversation.”
“No!” Astoria said sternly, taking a step back and pulling Scorpius away from Draco’s hold. “There’s no room for negotiation on this. Your wife and both your children are not going home. We’re staying at my parents’ instead. And once you come back to your senses and decide to accept your unborn child, then you know where to find us!”
Narcissa and Daphne let out a loud gasp while Draco and Lucius stood bewildered. Everyone’s eyes fell on Astoria, and while she was visibly shaking like a leaf with red-rimmed eyes, she held her ground firmly.
“Mummy?” Scorpius called, and Astoria turned to her oldest. “You said both. Does that mean I’m going to have a little sister like Auntie Daphne has you?”
Astoria chuckled, kissing her son’s forehead. “Or a little brother, yes. I’ll make sure of it, Scorp. I promise.”
The little boy beamed and hugged his mother tightly. Draco almost cried; if only Scorpius knew what that sacrifice meant.
Daphne shook herself out of her trance and held her sister's arm. “Let’s go home, Tori. You need to rest.” She threw a dirty look at Draco before leading her sister and nephew outside the hospital.
And Draco was left standing there, watching as the love of his life, the woman who healed all his wounds, walked away. And he dreaded the day she’d be walking away for good.
-----------------------
Any theories about what might happen next?
Read Part 2 to find out more!
For those who want to be tagged, head over to “The Owlery” section on my profile and send me a message!
Until the next one xx
#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco malfoy fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagine#draco x astoria#draco x astoria greengrass#draco x daughter
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hiiiii !!! if you are accepting requests at the moment, can i ask something about reader and tom expecting a baby, one day while he’s drunk she sees him flirting with another women and when she confronts him he snaps at her and tells her he’s not ready for this “shit”. So they broke up and broke contact for months, until he shows in her apartment regretting his words and they talk but she suddenly at that moment gets into labor?!? I remember seeing a concept similar in a movie but I would love if you couldn’t bring it to life! Thank you so much in advance, appreciate your work a lot 🧸🤎
right so I loved this so much it has become a multiple parter and im not even going to apologise. so thanku so so much anon for getting me out a little rut!!!
summary: when toms caught out all hope looks lost - probs part 1 of 3 but it could get a bit longer too lol
warnings: serious angst, reference to abortion, cheating, a whole lot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry)
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“Hi babe, just to let you know Yamna’s invited me out for dinner this evening so don’t worry if you get home early and im not back! I love you x”
It was a spur of the moment plan, which was a rarity recently. The past 5 months since you’d found out, you could name barely 5 occasions you’d been out past 8 oclock- trading your heels for fuzzy slippers and dresses for massively oversized tops and joggers. It wasn’t how you had expected to be spending the summer before your 25th birthday but it was now your life. The rooftop bars, the wild nights, the get aways had all sort of been cancelled for… for the rest of your life.
Because an 8 month pregnant belly isn’t something you can ignore.
Sure…. it wasn’t the plan. Not the plan to be pregnant with your boyfriend of only 6 months, who at the time you didn’t even live with. But you were making it work. And now, you were just excited. It was the start of a new story with Tom, and you’d got past the phase of being sad and mourning your youth. Because the little bubba inside of you, she was pretty awesome and you really couldn’t wait to meet her.
So yes, you had been home alone eating ice cream from a tub when Yamna knocked on the door. She’d been one of your best mates for as long as you could remember so when she’d turned up unannounced with mascara smeared under her eyes you’d cancelled your plans of a pathetic alone evening. Her boss had just given her the sack - which was no surprise. He was a backwards tory old git who couldn’t handle the fact Yamna was a woman doing the job better than he could ever dream of.
So yes, you’d suggested going out to the fancy new bar down the road - to celebrate the fact she no longer had to put up with the arsehole. Obviously you couldn’t drink and neither did Yamna, but you go to a bar for the atmosphere - and the selection of mocktails they had was insane.
Your boyfriend Tom was already out, he said he had a meeting and then dinner with some execs he needed to shmoosh. Of course you didn’t mind, but he had been working a lot recently, in order to be able to have the time off when your baby girl arrives.
So after sending a little text and giving Yamna another hug to try and turn the evening from disappointment to celebration you walked out the door with a smile on your face. Maybe you could pretend, just for an evening to not be pregnant and whale-like?
///////////////////////////
The bar was just a 10 minute walk so it wasn’t long before the two of you were soaking up the atmosphere. It was all decorated in a rustic fashion, with old exposed wood and dangling lightbulbs from the ceiling and the drinks were incredible. The type that have dry ice or flames or some other sort of fantastical display of edible decorations. Even Yamna had perked up, especially when a guy from the table across had bought you both a round of drinks.
“I’m just gonna pop to the loo.”
“Do you really need the toilet or do you just want to parade infornt of the fit rich man who keeps looking at you?”
“ Is both an option?” You laughed as Yamna slipped off her stool, winking rather dramatically as she did so. She was unbelievable - but at least this way she wasn’t thinking about her work, or lack thereof, anymore.
Happily you sat scrolling though your phone, seeing that tom had messaged you with an okay, before flicking through instagram.
And that was where the happiness ended.
For in a hurried manner, with a face looking a lot more ghosted than when she left, Yamna took her seat again.
“Are you okay?” Immediately your worry took over, the way she was biting her lip and not meeting your eyes not helping.
“I um yeh-yeh. Just I think I saw Tom.”
“Tom as in my Tom?” Her almost guilty looking nod had your scrunching your eyebrows, why was it such a big deal Tom was inside?
“He didn’t see me I don’t think but er… he just looked pretty close to a girl and I-“
To be honest you stopped listening at that point, heart dropping out the bottom of your chest. Because it made sense, he had been so distant recently and even if you’d been lying to yourself that it were work - this seemed much more likely. Whilst nodding along, pretending to listen to Yamna, instead your attention was solely focused on fiddling with the promise ring he’d got you after the two of you decided to keep the baby. He’d been so committed, so ready for this unexpected news. He’d said he was in for the long haul.
“Y/n?”
“sorry I um… it’s probably just a work colleague he needs to sweet talk. I’ll um-I’ll just go say hello.”
“I’m coming with you.” She spoke astutely, very much forcing herself into the situation.
“No no I’ll… I’ll come back if I need you, just wait here.”
Her face was so grim and destitute, as much as you were pretending it was okay - you knew it wasn’t. Before Yamna could protest further, you slipped off your seat ( clumsily thanks to the elephant belly) and walked with fake confidence back inside.
It took you barely 3 seconds to hone in on Tom, call it mothers intuition. He was on a booth in the corner with 5 others on his table but none of whom you recognised. It was 2 other guys and 3 girls - the six all paired off in mathcingly initimate conversations. Apart from that you payed almost zero attention to the others, attention solely focused on your boyfriend and the girl he had his arm round.
She was everything you weren’t. She was skinny - you, as previously mentioned, looked like you had a beachball stuffed under your top. She was blonde with sleek and perfectly styled waves at the tips of her long her - yours was thrown into a messy bun due to the last minute plans.
Most importantly - right now she was wrapped in Toms arms, whilst you stood alone watching.
God knows what came over you, but with confidence you never normally had you marched up to the table, just waiting at the end. One of the men you didn’t recognised, arrogantly asked you ‘can I help you’ - but you completely disregarded it, eyes solely fixed on Tom. He took a moment more to look away from the leggy girl, but as soon as he did his eyes grew massively wide.
“Y/n I-I-“
“Fancy bumping into you, I thought you were out with work executives?” Frantically casting his gaze across the table, you could see the cogs whirring to try and come up with an explanation.
“No I-I was but then Charlie here came over, we used to be mates at school and-“
“Oh fuck off Tom., I cant deal with this right now.”
You didn’t even have the energy to listen to his clearly fake excuses as to why he’d landed himself in that situation. You also certainly did not have it in you to maintain the strong face, you could feel everything shattering inside of you.
Because it was so blindingly obvious by how he had acted. You’d caught him out and you both knew it.
And it fucking hurt like hell.
So you exited the bar as fast as physically possible, hearing the shouts of both Yamna and Tom behind you. You didn’t know what you needed in that moment - except that neither of them were the answer. Tom though, presumably the faster of the two, managed to catch up - grabbing your arm to make you halt in the road.
There was this moment between the two of you that time almost seemed to freeze. The two of you, in an otherwise pretty empty residential street, at 9:30 at night, in a moment that you would never have again. From your point of view, you saw the slightly bloodshot and bleary eyes, widened with panic and fear. For Tom he saw the floods of tears down your cheeks, which you hadn’t even noticed were freely streaming.
But in that moment there was, at least, the slightest bit of peace. The slightest bit of hope - that he could explain, that he had some ludicrous but valid reason for the situation you had walked in on. Just a smidgen of hope that this were recoverable.
But then he had to open his bloody mouth.
“Y/n I swear nothing-“
“That didn’t look like fucking nothing!”
“It was I swear! We just-“
“Tom this is your one and only chance. I don’t care if your off your face, if you don’t give my a miracle of a reason as to what the fuck THAT was - then I’m gone.”
“Don’t say that Y/n, you don’t mean th-“ He tried to grab your hand which you snatched away, like you had just scalded it on a hot plate. Like he had hurt you.
“I swear to god I’ve never meant anything more. So cut the shit.”
“FIne-fine! Um so we were at the meeting and then on the way out I bumped into George and hes been a good mate of mine for years.” All you did was hum, arms crossed and making sure you had a metre of distance between the two of you.
“So he said god you look like you need a drink and I agreed because its been stressful as hell recently.”
“Oh its been stressful; for YOU has it? I’m so sorry Thomas, has it been hard for you while i’ve been throwing my lungs up with morning sickness? Has it been stressful that I’ve been running on zero hours sleep because she kicks me all bloody night? ” Your words were laced in a posioned sarcasm, to which Tom just stammered to.
“Please just let me.” Given he was supposed to be fighting for you, he sounded pretty darn defeated already.
“I said yes to the drink.” He skipped out the bit that had angered you, to which you rolled your eyes at. “And one turned into two and more and then I don’t know-“
“Your going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You deadpanned, taking a small step further back still.
“I mean it! The girls were all his friends and we were just talking.”
“Just talking? All pressed up and arms round her?”
“Yes!” As indignant as he retorted, it didn’t not make up for what you had seen with your own eyes.
“Your such a bullshitter Tom!”
“God why wont you just listen to me?” He cried, wobbly doing a little 360 on the spot, in what appeared to be exasperation.
“Because your just spouting fucking lies! And you try and blame it all on poor little tommo being stressed which is-“
“I HAVE BEEN! Running round after you! I’m just tired of this shit!!! So kill me, for having one night of freedom!”
Tom was too deep in his angry lecture to take any notice of you. Which is why, once finished, he waitied, breath heavy and nose flaring. He was waiting for you to scream back at him. To give it back. He was too drunk to notice the change in your demeanor.
“I’m tired of this shit.”
It was just reverberating round your head. Again and again and again. He was tired of your relationship and you hadn’t even become parents yet. He was at his wits-end and the baby was still unborn. What the fuck was going to happen when baby arrived? Clearly there was no hope. It was dead. Your relationship was dead with no chance of revival.
Because he’d said it. Your relationship was shit, and nobody can put up with something they hate for that long. Not 18 years. Not while bringing up a child.
So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.
“Don’t follow me.”
Not now, not ever.
?to be continued?
~~~~~~~~~~gahhhh I hope u enjoyed! I also REALLY CANNOT THINK OF A NAME FOR THIS MINISERIES --> if anyone can think of something pls inbox me!!! ~~~~~~~~
tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol
#tom x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland angst#tom holland one shot#tomholland#tom holland#tom holland imagines#tom holland oneshot#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland angst#angsty#pregnant!reader
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what the fuck is the singed scarf route 😃
HOOBOY OKAY. Buckle up because this'll be a long post.
Generally even though I'm very much a horror/hardcore content fan, I do seem to not get into sad AUs because... owie :'(
but ummm. Well. Salt Route and Snowgrave got me thinking about Vegas. And how exactly Vegas, as a party member, would also be affected by Snowgrave.
Thus begins the Singed Scarf Route.
More info under the cut, Snowgrave Spoilers ahead vvv
Singed Scarf Route is an optional branch achieved during Snowgrave, AFTER you've gotten the Freeze Ring but BEFORE fighting Berdly. In combat, whilst Noelle will freeze enemies, you're given the option to select 'Smash Hit' for Vegas.
Any time this attack is selected before the Freeze Ring, Vegas will firmly decline, with the same exact line- "I'm not gonna do that, kid."
HOWEVER. Upon acquiring the ring, you'll git a bit of dialogue afterwards.
You can now use 'Smash Hit' in combat. Having Noelle freeze your opponents and immediately chaining the move with 'Smash Hit' will result in Vegas drawing a nail bat and proceeding to smash frozen enemies to shards in a single swing. Note that this move does absolutely nothing to benefit you and will not work before Noelle's spell.
From here, you have two options: Proceed until the Berdly fight, or loop back to the Cyber Field.
PROCEED TO BERDLY: In the event you opt to go straight to fight Berdly, you'll have Vegas as an additional party member during the fight. This won't unlock anything new for them, and the battle proceeds as it normally should. It is worth noting that trying to use 'Smash Hit' will only get you this dialogue:
Upon using Snowgrave and having Noelle leave you, Kris turns to Vegas. You have the option to choose between 'Proceed.' and 'Stay with me.' Neither choice matters. Whichever you select, Vegas will step away after a moment of silence, then leave the party as well.
LOOP BACK TO CYBER FIELD: You'll have the option to go back and 'grind' in the Cyber Field. This is the true route. What you'll need to do from here is encounter multiple Werewires and Freeze+Smash Hit them. After doing this to five of them, you will encounter a lone Plugboy with a loose, dangling wire in combat. The Plugboy does not attack, the wire seems useless. Attempting to have Noelle freeze the Plugboy will immediately abort the route and, subsequently, Snowgrave. Instead, switch to Vegas' attacks and you'll notice a new one: OVERDRIVE. Parallel to Noelle's Snowgrave, repeatedly pressure Vegas to use it. Eventually, you'll get a scene where Vegas steps into the middle of the battlefield.
Vegas will attempt to approach and escort the Plugboy away, but instead the loose wire will drop, attaching itself to Vegas' back. The Plugboy flees as Vegas struggles for a minute, before falling still. Then rises as a horrible abomination of what looks to be a Werewire and a Coyote.
* The enemy releases an eerily uncanny shriek.
This initiates the real battle, and reveals the boss, ROCK STAR.
In this, you do not have any control over Noelle. Any attempt to force her to freeze them results in this text:
* She's frozen in fear.
You're forced to make the first attack.
Doing this triggers another cutscene, where the SOUL pauses, then turns orange. Suddenly, Kris takes damage.
In making Vegas, I'd also wanted them to parallel Kris in the sense of how we've seen what's implied to be identity crisis. Whilst normally this bit of character doesn't have any real use in the true storyline, it becomes crucial here.
* Your fates are now tied.
Any damage dealt to Vegas is sent right back upon Kris. You're now forced to ACT to de-escalate. Notably, there's smoke effects coming off of Vegas.
But your choices don't matter.
After exhausting all of your ACT options, the battle will pause for a beat. Nobody moves for a second, before Vegas suddenly spontaneously combusts.
For the latter half of this battle, your only option is to repeatedly spam the Mercy button on Vegas as your health dwindles each round. This is futile, as you'll only receive this message in response:
When Kris' health hits 1, the battle will stop, cutting to silence where frantic music was before. You select MERCY one last time.
In total silence, Vegas crumples to the floor and burns to an inanimate pile of ash.
... But you chose mercy. So you technically get an item. Not a weapon.
* SINGED FUR SCARF has been added to your inventory.
This scarf is practically useless. Noelle won't wear it, and wearing it yourself gives very little damage resistance. The flavor text is ' *Smells like Sandalwood. ' Proceed through the Snowgrave route as usual, up until your fight with Spamton NEO.
SPAMTON NEO:
Berdly Route: Vegas now accompanies Spamton in battle. This is very similar to the Cyberfield Battle, however upon Vegas succumbing to OVERDRIVE, Spamton will instead equip the scarf. Attacks will become much more punishing.
Cyber Field Route: Equipping the scarf for this battle will drastically change the trajectory. Spamton NEO's attacks will become more frantic and dense, but you'll take VERY little damage. In fact, the scarf seems to be giving you some of the highest defense in the game now.
Throughout the battle, Spamton's usual dialogue will be replaced with a very frantic, pathetic attempt at a 'Deal' with Kris, to hand over the scarf. You'll be given this prompt multiple times:
TAKE THE DEAL: Spamton seizes the scarf from you. The battle changes to the latter half of the Berdly Route, with Spamton equipping it and basically going unhinged with grief.
[ Art courtesy of Hal / @abhorcore !! ]
REFUSE: Spamton's attacks become weaker and weaker in an attempt to keep from damaging the scarf. Eventually, being hit deals no damage to you, making you free to take hits with no consequence- however this can only happen so many times before suddenly
* The scarf falls apart.
Spamton NEO stops attacking. He hangs still and silent, no music or animation. You're free to finish the job.
Finish the job.
Proceed.
#spamton#spamton neo#deltarune#snowgrave#Singed Scarf Route#long post#Vegas Rockwell#friend art#rottiebones art
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