#hp snippet

[tragedykery]

I ❤️ self-loathing characters, characters who struggle with monstrosity (either fearing or embracing it), characters who are so lonely, who have a gaping hole in their chest, who bottle up & repress their feelings, who claw their way up & have ambitions, who fall down & lose everything, who search for identity & purpose yet can’t see themselves outside of what others want from or expect of them, who are hurt & hurt others, who long & grieve, who lie & pretend. characters who are messy & flawed & human

[isalisewrites]

First draft snippet from chapter 32 of Terrible, But Great. I'm back to writing, yall~!

[moontearpensfic]

Vampire AU Snippet

Vampire bodyguard Harry. Tom's blood is addictive because it has love potion in it. 😌💕 They travel the world together as Tom goes on his journey to learn more of the Dark Arts.

Harry has always compared the taste of blood to chocolate. It is, maybe, a bit cliché to liken it to candy, but for Harry, it isn't about its sweetness. Blood is not sweet. There is something rich, something decadent to the copper flavor when one becomes a vampire, and that is what sits on his tongue, glides down his throat, and keeps him fed every evening until his next kill. Tom Riddle, he finds, is better than chocolate. He is something unnamable, richer to Harry's senses than any wrist Harry has ever sipped from. He makes Harry, for all his carefully erected walls against his hunger, want more. Harry lifts his mouth from Tom's slender wrist. A soft buzz hums beneath his skin. He was careful not to spill a single drop of blood. All he needs to do is glide his tongue over the twin puncture wounds in that pale flesh, and it heals. "Well?" the boy purrs, his hand on Harry's shoulder. Tom is young, barely graduated Hogwarts. He has his entire future in front of him, yet he flirts with death. So easily, Harry could lose control… It is a wire thin line that he walks in managing his hunger. Already, he longs to bite that wrist again, to draw deeper than a sip, to pull it so far into himself that it lingers for an eternity. "Sanguini told me about you," Harry murmurs. "You want to travel the world. Is that why you want me as your 'bodyguard'? Protection?" "And to pay the way," Tom says.

[hyalithium]

Chapter seven of 'Reflection Once Removed' is up on ao3! Link to chapter I for new readers.

Story summary below cut:

On December 25th, 1991, Harry found two very special things that would become his very first secrets. The first was the strange room, stuffed wall to wall with treasures and objects teeming with magical energy. The second was the boy in the mirror. (or the one where first year Harry & first year Tom become friends across time though a magic mirror and Harry emotionally manipulates the horcruxes to break the time travel paradox and get a cute bf)

[soup-of-the-daisies]

it seems orion and walburga’s ‘expand the family tree’/‘breeding’-kink won. to reiterate, you horny horndogs who want to see awful aristocrats fuck!! and have an aristo-inability to acknowledge they’re just really horny!!! incredible.

ANYWAY here it is :) added a read more because it’s over 600 words and i don’t wish to be obnoxious.

~*~

“I want a baby,” she tells him, on the second day of their honeymoon.

Orion looks offensively handsome in the golden evening light of the French riviera, sweaty and sleepy and clothed as he is. The flute of expensive, ice-cold champagne is drained and set aside on the ornate bedside table; he takes a slow drag of his cigarette, pushes the smoke out through his nose.

“Isn’t that what we’re attempting to make?”

Make, yes. Once a day, at nine in the evening, like clockwork. Walburga squeezes the silk sheets in her hands, pushes it lower until she can kick it off with her legs.

“I suppose,” she answers, dragging one of her legs up. Her daring nightshirt drops, resting on her hipbone. The lace hemming tickles. She’s not wearing underwear; it would get in the way.

Orion politely keeps his eyes on her face, his expression not even hinting at any urge he must feel for ogling at her bare skin, her exposed pubic area. He is a man, and so he cannot feel any differently. His enthusiasm at having her is too obvious.

“Then why are you telling me this?”

Her jaw tightens. “I wish to be sure that we are on the same page.”

“But we established that we both want children before we were wed,” he answers, audibly confused. His head tilts, almost adorably, and a lock of his hair falls across his smooth forehead. “It’s in the contract.”

The sheer stupidity of her husband will kill her one day, Walburga knows, and they’ve been married for fifty-one hours exactly. Orion is a bright and talented man, but his difficulties with situational awareness and figurative sayings have vexed her since she first met him—he was six and she ten, and he did not understand that she and Lucretia wished to be left alone in their mischief until Lucretia spelled it out for him.

He’s only twenty-three. He cannot understand her hints. And she cannot say them, not frankly, even though she wishes to… because it’s not proper of her to be so brazen.

“So it is,” Walburga agrees, spreading her legs slightly. “You’re right.”

He’s already had her this evening; put his weight on top of her, buried himself inside of her and his face into her neck, pressed soothing kisses along her jawline until the soreness faded and her nails stopped scratching divots into his broad back. He does it well, probably. It feels nice.

It’s not enough.

“Maybe I just wanted to tell you again,” she says, in a fit of daring. “That I want a baby. With you.”

The confused tilt of his brow relaxes, and his eyes soften, and he almost smiles. The barest hints of his annoyingly handsome dimples appear on his cheeks.

“I want one with you too,” he tells her frankly. He vanishes the half-smoked cigarette with a flick of his nimble fingers. “A girl or a boy—doesn’t matter. As long as it’s with you.”

Her pulse gains significant weight to it, pulsing in her core and ears. She thinks she might faint. She thinks she might melt, or shake out of her skin. Leave it to Orion — annoying, introverted Orion — to say something so undeniably sweet and… and attractive, in such a curt and matter-of-fact tone of voice. How did Luc put it again, about that Prewett boy of hers? Jump his bones?

“Oh,” she says. “That’s nice.”

Orion’s smile widens slightly and he tilts his head once more, then leans in. Walburga quivers in anticipation, closes her eyes, and relaxes her mouth.

He kisses her cheek.

“I’ll take a bath,” he says, after he’s pulled back. “Do you want to wash up first?”

She might explode. She might do something horrible to him. She might tear him apart limb from limb.

Walburga tells him she’ll go first, throws her pillow in his stupidly handsome, oblivious face, and storms off.

[ecstarry]

Plssss what is the view between villages plsssss tell me more *begging with my hands clasped together*

here's a snippet from this time travel AU were James ends up in the future is in need of Regulus and Sirius' help to get back to his time:

“Come in!” James answered after the first knock. 

“Hey, how was your day with Sirius? I heard you got a new phone.” Regulus was standing by the frame, he had never been in James’ room. He was always careful of not overstepping any boundries with him.

“I did! Do you want to register your number? Register... Is that how you say it?” 

Regulus melted as the man in front of him adjusted his glasses and looked at his phone. James examined his device carefully and touched every part of the screen until he finally clicked ‘add contact’ and handed the phone to Regulus. 

“Sure, I will register my number.” Regulus’ eyes soften as he watched James light up by his answer. He quickly typed his contact information and returned the phone. 

“What’s wrong?” Regulus asked when he saw James’ confused look. 

“Sirius added a picture next to the name, how do you do that?”

“Picture?” James hands him his phone again with Sirius’ contact showing. It had the dog emoji next to the name ‘Padfoot’. Regulus smiled and tried his hardest to conceal his chuckle. Adorable.

He sat next to James on the edge of the bed and extended his hand to ask for the phone back. James quickly obliged. 

“Here." Regulus opened the keyboard, switched to the emojis and allowed James to decide which one he wanted.

“There! I like this one.” James passed the phone back and Regulus’ felt butterflies when he looked at the screen. Next to his name was a star. Bright and pretty.

“Do you like it?”

“I do actually.” 

Suddenly he was very aware, that he was in James’ room, sitting on his bed and a sudden blush started creeping to his cheeks. 

“I better go,” he whispered. Trying to convince himself that leaving was better, that he shouldn’t allow himself moments like this with James. 

“Uh- yeah, it’s getting late.” James’ replied quietly, like a little kid who wasn’t ready to go to sleep but that knew better than to through a tantrum.

Regulus stood up hesitantly, he hated that he wanted James to ask him to stay longer. He walked towards the door and James called on him. 

“Wait! You haven’t registered my number. What if you need to call me?” 

Regulus smiled to himself and turned around to hand his phone. James slowly typed his number and handed it back. 

“You chose the picture.” Regulus simply nodded in response. 

Once in his room, he unlocked his phone and looked at James’ contact.

“This will do,” he whispered to himself as he added a sun next to James’ name.

[xoxonxo]

i love you, i’m sorry

a snippet of my romione fic

about hermione’s perspective during

the halfblood prince

“Hermione, are you even listening?” Ron let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically rolling his eyes. No. “Yes, sorry. Uh—What were you saying?” Hermione grimaced when Ron shot her a look, before he shooed the idea off with his hand. “Forget about it.”

She felt a twinge of guilt at Ron’s words. It wasn’t her fault that she kept on daydreaming, she couldn’t help it! “Did you smell anything from the cauldron?” Hermione’s words shot out quickly, catching even herself by surprise. The question had been pounding in her head since she had left Potions, and if it weren’t for Ron’s hum of acknowledgement, she would’ve thought she hadn’t said it out loud. For someone who had always been so opinionated, Ron’s expression was unreadable.

“It was far away.” That was a lie. From the second Hermione stepped into Slughorn’s class, she smelt the bubbling mixture. It was strong and it enticed her. It begged her to step closer to it— that and they were sitting near the front of the class. Ron’s sense of smell was remarkable, and that was a fact no one could deny. He could identify a home-cooked meal from miles away. Ron’s eyes searched for conformity in her own, “My mother’s cooking.” Hermione blinked slowly, patiently waiting for him to say more. The clock in the common room ticked, each click sending a rush of anticipation through her veins.

“Freshly mown grass,” Ron’s words left his mouth slowly, the crackle from the fireplace breaking the ever growing tension fueling between them. Hermione swore she felt her heart skip a beat. With a loud cough, she cleared her throat, pressing further, “And what else?” Her voice trembled as she watched Ron form ideas in his head. He hesitated before his eyes flicked towards hers,

“Parchment.”

[picklesonjupiter]

A wip snippet of my snack fic where Sirius and Harry become Severus' new neighbors

Severus woke up early, like always, and drank his cuppa tea, like always. He grabbed the remote from between the couch cushions, turned on the telly, and went to the front door to pick up the newspaper, like always. Routine was safe. It was what kept his life from being turned upside down.  He flipped through the paper while a rerun of an 80s show played in the background. Suddenly, an annoyingly loud honking sound outside. Jumping out of his comfortable seat, he peeked out of his window blinds and saw a movers’ truck. Severus groaned. Mrs.Kilpatrick, his next door neighbor, had recently passed away from old age, and her children had decided to sell her home. Severus had not cared for the woman with her ten cats that roamed free and ate his garden’s plants. Yet she and her cats had been part of his routine. New neighbors meant having to adjust all over again.  Severus saw a boy no older than ten run out of the truck; the first thing he noticed was his unruly brown hair and crooked glasses. Then the boy shouted, “Padfoot, hurry up.” Out came a tall man, no jumper on to protect from the morning chill, showing off his tattooed arms. This "Padfoot" (what an outlandish name) person laughed heartily, showing off his pearly white teeth. Severus felt the vein in his forehead immediately begin to throb. His new neighbors seemed to be the sort to introduce themselves to the whole neighborhood and expect them to be neighborly by making small talk. Severus loathed small talk.  He shut the blinds and went about his business, ignoring his new neighbors’ moving ruckus as best as he could. After showering in lukewarm water, he dressed in his usual black attire and went into his childhood room, which was now remodeled as his study room. He graded his students’ assignments until the alarm he set went off.  Stretching his arms to get rid of his stiff neck and shoulders, he stood up and walked to his garden. His irises and camelias were beginning to bloom. He watered the tomatoes, onions, cabbage, and carrots that he planted a few weeks ago. He also watered his indoor plants and changed pots and dirt for the plants that were dry and dying.  Gardening always soothed him. It was a habit he began with his mother. When he was younger, they often could not afford to buy food, so his mother began planting seeds in their backyard until vegetables and fruit grew. (His father allowed his mother this one hobby because it fed them.) Severus was preparing lunch for himself when he heard knocking and then heard the sound of his doorbell. Wiping his hands, he opened his front door to find his new neighbors standing there.  “Hellu, I’m your new neighbor. I wanted to introduce myself to you. I’m Sirius Black and this is my son, Harry. I hope we can get to know each other and get along.”  Severus ignored the man’s outstretched hand, sneering at it. “Do you have any pets?” Sirius dropped his hand, his smile becoming a tad forced. “We do. A dog. His name is Lady. He’s a sweetheart; he loves to run around outside and play fetch.” “Keep him out of my garden.” He shut the door in his face. Severus heard Black say loudly, “What a rude man. I didn’t even get his name. Come on, Harry. Let’s hope our other neighbors are better.” “Anyone would be better than him. Did you see the way he looked at us? Like we were bugs.” The last thing Severus heard was that irritating belly laugh.  — From that point on, Severus received gifts from his annoyingly cheerful neighbor every few days. First it was freshly baked bread, then a pie, until the gifts became outrageously expensive. Severus walked to Black’s front door and knocked with extra force in his knocks. The boy opened the door, his hair looking like he had just rolled out of bed. “Is your father home?” The boy blinked up at him like an idiot before screaming for dad to come down.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Tom tightened his hand in Harry's hair, directing him over to the kitchen table before turning him around and saying, “Up.”

Harry sat on top of it, giving the other man a look. “The table again?”

“I do believe there’s a saying that goes, ‘if it isn’t broke, don’t fix it.’”

“I’m a bit concerned I might have to fix it if we keep fucking on it…” Harry said with a frown, wriggling to test the table’s stability.

“Well, I doubt one of the beds is an option and I’m not kneeling on the ground, so unless you have a better idea, accept that some basic furniture maintenance is in your future and stop complaining.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed melodramatically, yelping when Tom twisted one of his nipples harshly in response. “Y’know, if you’re aiming to fix the bad behaviour, you should probably stop giving positive reinforcement.”

“It would appear that nothing short of stopping completely or killing you would have any sort of corrective effect on your behaviour.”

And then Harry got an idea. A wonderful, awful idea. This must have shown on his face, because the horcrux started to say, “That was not a suggestion–”

Harry cast his hand towards the kitchen counter and put all his scattered focus into summoning… and, when a handle hit his palm, he grinned in satisfaction, handing it over to Tom with a slight flourish, earning a raised eyebrow.

“You truly have no sense of self preservation at all, do you?” Tom asked, examining the knife.

“Not a bit,” Harry agreed. “Cut my shirt off?”

(crave gets slaked)

[mirrorofliterature]

Oh, Percy thinks, smiling fondly, Oliver is going to be insufferable about this.

.

you know you're whipped when you're like: about to be irritated but it's by the love of my life so it's actually endearing 😍

[heartofspells]

Devil in the Kitchen

My submission for @hprecipe-recfest! Please enjoy!

"Says I've gotta bake it for twenty minutes again." He frowns, eyes narrowing, the point of his wand scratching at the side of his head through his mess of hair. "What sense does that make? Why would you twice bake a – wait!" He reaches forward, snatching something, a card quickly flinging over his shoulder and fluttering to the floor behind him. "Wrong one. Done with that. Right. It's time for the sweetened condensed milk."

"Gods help Lily Potter," groans Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. James ignores him.

"I don't have condensed milk," bemoans James.

"And we've established you don't even know what it is," states Sirius like an eager puppy, leaning forward on the sofa. "You could use milk."

"Don't use milk!" warns Remus.

"I'm going to use milk!" chimes James excitedly. "We've got loads of it."

Remus whimpers, knees twitching up towards his chest like a frightened child.

"You're going to poison your wife."

"Hush, Moony. You're being dramatic," scolds Sirius, flapping a hand in his direction.

Keep reading on AO3

[orchideous-nox]

Whatever day snippet

Thank you for the tag @wordsofwilderness <3

I'm currently working on a nsfw Rosekiller one-shot white light in your arms tonight so here's the first little bit:

Evan was dragged into consciousness slowly. It began with the brushing of lips over his collarbone, not quite kisses, perhaps just Barty turning his head, adjusting his position as he clung to Evan’s side. There was a leg slung over one of his thighs, slotted between his own with an arm draped over his middle. Or at least it had seemed like that until fingers crept under the hem of the tattered t-shirt Evan wore to bed, sliding up his stomach. Then the brushing of lips became much more obvious open-mouthed kisses. Trying to steady his breathing, Evan didn’t open his eyes, waiting to see how far Barty would go before giving in and asking Evan to fuck him. The hardest part was not letting his cock betray him, but his mind was running wild with the need to push Barty onto his back and give him what he wants. It took all the patience a half-asleep man such as Evan could muster just to stay still.

This feels like a sign that I should actually do the writing I said I would do today 😂

np tags: @futurequibblerjournalist @honeybcj @fromagony @star4daisy

[moontearpensfic]

Anytime, Anywhere, Always Snippet

AU I've outlined and am slowly working on. Tom and Harry are both Gryffindors, and Harry is a year older than Tom. This follows Tom through his last couple of years of school while Harry slowly corrupts him, and Tom in turn corrupts Harry. It's like a dark slice of life fic. 😌💕

"Well, if I may… Wondering about it is hardly going to aid your case when you can do something about it," Tom says. His tone is dryer than the ink on Potter's notes. "In fact, in the future, it might make those you enlist to help you far more willing to do so." "Awh, thanks, Tom, you're so sweet," Potter cooes. "Oh, if only it was as simple as doing something about it!" "That tone is hardly necessary—" "Tom, wait—sit back down!" Tom does so reluctantly, his eyes narrowed. Potter's hand stays tucked over his forearm to keep him in place—retracts itself only when Tom shifts his glare so that it may bear his irritation instead. The older boy grins unrepentantly at him. Potter is well-toned with muscle from his days of Quidditch, particularly in his thighs and biceps. The long slope of his back and the broad spread of his shoulders often distract Tom from any task he's focused on. What so often irritates Tom, however, is that Potter is once more taller than him, and having to look up several centimeters to gaze directly into Potter's eyes more than cools any ardor his fit body stirs. "Are you willing to study now?" Tom asks. "Because I can go. I have much better things to do than help you not get kicked off the Quidditch team." "I am," Potter says. "And I won't get kicked off the Quidditch team if I fail this paper in Charms, but thanks for your concern. Really, I'm touched." "I detest you," Tom says, truthfully. But Potter's grin only widens.

[hyalithium]

New chapter of 'Reflection Once Removed' is up on ao3! This is the first look at Tom's POV which is super exciting :). Link to chapter I for new readers.

Story summary below cut:

On December 25th, 1991, Harry found two very special things that would become his very first secrets.

The first was the strange room, stuffed wall to wall with treasures and objects teeming with magical energy.

The second was the boy in the mirror.

(or the one where first year Harry & first year Tom become friends across time though a magic mirror and harry emotionally manipulates the horcruxes to break the time travel paradox and get a cute bf)

[chaos-bear]

His first moments were of pain, blood, and chaos.

Endlessly long moments where he lay crumpled on the cold ground and simply tried to remember how to breathe.

His fledgling muscles trembled and strained, and he could feel his ribcage fruitlessly trying to expand. His eyes searched the night sky above as he slowly suffocated.

The cold stars stared down mercilessly. 

Finally, his lungs expanded with a blinding burst of pain, and he dragged in a whoop of air. One breath, then two. His panic cleared, and he could lift his head, trying to focus through eyes still blurry and wet with ritual amniotic fluid.

His hands pressed into the dark earth underneath him, drawing stability from the hard press of rocks, from the grit gathering under his nails. He was here. He was in a body again.

The horrifying buzz and snap of the space between worlds and time still rattled his bones. The veil's buzzsaw meat grinder churned at the frayed edges of his soul, snapping at his metaphorical heels as he tried to sink further into this new skin.

His bones didn't fit.

His head hung low as he gathered shaky legs underneath himself and staggered upright. Pulling the thick robes tighter, he relished the cool night air against his damp skin. He breathed in the scent of green living things, smoke from the fire, and blood.

He blinked until his eyes focused on the small, haggard man standing before him—his follower. His aura was sickly yellow, his magic stained with desperation. This despicable man scrabbling and begging at his feet was to whom he owed his rebirth. With a twist of revulsion, he reached out and healed the rat man's arm with a shove of raw power and intention before pushing him away.

His eyes fell closed for a brief moment. His power felt like the rush of an orgasm as it swept through his body. Fire hot and sweet, a yearning for more, a rush of relief. He was truly alive again.

He could sense another's presence in the graveyard—a bright fire in the darkness that drew him in. He opened his eyes and turned to look at Harry Potter, tied against his father's gravestone.

They peered at one another through the steam rising from the cauldron while he tried to gather his disjointed thoughts. Those angry green eyes burned into him, and for a split second, he was within two bodies, two minds, and two spaces. He was overwhelmed with a wave of the boy's emotions—fear, anger, and confusion.

He blinked, and the feeling vanished.

Voldemort waved one hand, and the bonds dropped from the boy. Turning, he grabbed the rat's arm and apparated them both away.

Paul, Richard, or Tom

Harry Potter/Tom Riddle

Rated: E, Completed: 51,515 words

Tags: Under the Influence of Horcruxes, Secret Identity, World Travel, Soulmates, Dreamsharing, Forgiveness, Wizarding Politics

[risetherivermoon]

“This is ridiculous. I was exaggerating you spineless wolf-” Lupin grabs Fenrir by the collar of the man’s coat, his knitted mittens are bloody.

“Take the contract off.” Lupin says gruffly, Regulus can only see the back of his head, his sandy brown curls with snowflakes scattered in it. Fenrir scoffs and Lupin picks up the shears, putting them up to Fenrir’s neck. The older man goes silent and freezes. Regulus finds himself getting invested in watching the interaction, but takes a moment to look around, most people are watching as well, the drunks at the bar are chatting amongst each other quietly, and the bartender looks over to them as she cleans a glass.

“It’s dark magic-” Fenrir starts to say. Regulus freezes. He realises what’s happening now. Lupin seems to be under some kind of blood contract with Fenrir, those can only be created and broken by the presence of a witch. Regulus, happens to come from a family of witches, some of the last ones in existence, or who have free will. The thought process brings Sirius to mind and Regulus frowns. “I wouldn’t know how to rid of it! I just had that boy make the contract and then his holders took him away!” Fenrir shouts as Lupin puts the sharp end against the flesh of his neck. “Don’t even know the boy’s name! They called him the Witch of the Forgiving!” Regulus perks up even more, he’d told himself he wouldn’t get involved but now he thinks he must, they have to be talking of his brother. Regulus pulls down his scarf and walks towards the two of them.

a snippet of smth moonwater related :)))