#i think i would be more destroyed if blaise actually killed him

[kavennnn]

coil ch

edit: tumblr stole half of my tags so i put a bad version of the second half of what i was trying to say in my notes :( sorry

[saintsenara]

"eighth time's the charm" and "a general history of invisibility" 👀

thanks so much for the ask, @cealesti! and i'm delighted to say that you have exquisite taste when it comes to picking from the work in progress tag game list.

two very tonally different fics here, though...

eighth time's the charm is a piece for @ladiesofhpfest - and, specifically, for the fortnight of the fest which will focus on women of colour in the harry potter universe [you can find the full schedule of themes here]

this bit of the fest should - all being well - get quite a lot out of me [i'm also planning a couple of little pieces focusing on cho chang and angelina johnson, because i admire both of them for yelling at harry at least once], but this is the main thing i'm working on.

and it centres on a woman who is about as far in the background of canon as it's possible to be - she gets literally one mention - but who has managed to have me in a chokehold since the publication of half-blood prince nonetheless...

mrs zabini.

i am obsessed with mrs zabini - she's famously hot! she's clearly killed all seven of her husbands! and yet slughorn was clearly willing to risk it all for a chance to meet her! unparalleled! - and i think that she's the perfect candidate to be given the sort of exploration this fest allows.

after all, where does she live? what does she do? who is she friends with [because it's clearly not going to be narcissa malfoy...]? if she kills her husbands for their gold, does that mean she started out poor? how is that going to be received in the posh, white pureblood circles she might move in? what side is she on during the war? what is her relationship with blaise like, seeing as she undoubtedly bumped off his dad? what is it like for her as a black woman in the spaces she inhabits?

and, above all, what does she actually think about love? did she pick her husbands ruthlessly, only interested in their cash and how easy they'd be to kill? or did she hope each time that she might have found the one, before they inevitably disappointed her in some way?

i think she's a bit of a romantic at heart... so I'm trying to get her to pick a little bit more sensibly for husband number eight.

we've compromised. he's very much not a nice man. but he also literally cannot die.

so there is, then, a little bit of overlap between this and a general history of invisibility...

because, yes, it's one of my guilty pleasures... bartymort.

i've always been fascinated by the inherent tragedy of both barty crouch jr. and barty crouch sr. [who's getting his own well-deserved attention in subluxation, another piece on this wip list], and the fact that - in canon - we only ever see their relationship in the broad brushstrokes of tabloid gossip: the clever, quidditch-loving son of a brilliant politician; the brutal terrorist whose dad was never home on time; the kid who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and the man who sent him to azkaban without a second glance.

and even when we get the reveal - and, may i say, bcj you will always be famous - we're still left confused by a man who would let his own wife die in azkaban in order to free his son, by an elf who wanted her master to have the chance to watch a match again, and by the question of how - exactly - barty crouch jr. ended up aware that the dark lord is named after his father.

what lord voldemort was smoking that night is, therefore, a key part of this fic, but it is - in the main - a coming of age story for a young man whose life is lived, in many senses, in disguise.

never able to live up to his parents' expectations, never entirely sure how to relate to his father, alone and friendless - except for winky - for most of his childhood, mild, polite, and clever...

never clocked by anyone as teetering on the abyss of radicalisation.

ready to be destroyed by the very first person who deigns to pay him some attention.

lord voldemort's habit of collecting waifs and strays is something i love exploring, and him colliding head-first with barty's cataclysmic daddy issues is... a lot.

and, unsurprisingly, it does not end well.

[harleyacoincidence]

More Hadeon!

Do you have any favorite snippets with him?

Hey there! I'll admit, I was not expecting this ask moments after I posted about Hadeon. I'm going to warn you now, the WIP that he's from is extremely old (I'm talking high school me), so it's not good at all. I've definitely improved since then, but I'm still happy to share some (VERY OLD) snippets. Luckily, I love Hadeon a whole lot, and eventually I'll rewrite the books that need to be rewritten after I finish the series (just to get it up to par).

Here's some Hadeon content, completely out of context (trigger warnings for death, violence, and swearing):

I heard Hadeon groan. “Seriously? This moron again? Kid, didn’t I tell you to casually nuke him or something?” Yes, Hadeon, you did. However, you did not provide me with said nuke, and it’s kind of hard to order one online, so that did not happen, I replied. “Right. I remember now. Next time I’ll actually provide you with a weapon when we need to get rid of people we don’t like.” Kind of dark, but understandable. “I’ll even take control and erase it from your memory banks if you’d like. Whatever is easier for you.”

He shook himself out of it. He hated it when people caused him to feel sympathy (or even empathy) for them. He was a high ranking demon, not some charity worker. It was…inconvenient…to feel anything towards people, especially since victims were what he needed. Gathering victims and hosts to exert control on small parts of the world at a time was his goal, so one day he might be more powerful. Deceit, domination, and destruction were the things he was known for, and the only things he needed to put in motion to succeed. If anyone found out he had strayed from his usual path for a single host, or showed empathy towards others, he would be stripped of his rank and respect, possibly even his power. He couldn’t afford that. He turned away from Madelaine’s grave, unsure of why he was so remorseful about her death in particular. He turned back to her resting place, and saw the stone beside it, and it suddenly made sense why she had been buried here, despite living rather far away. He shuddered, looking disgusted. He walked briskly away, remembering the state his host had been in the first time he’d seen her. She had been stressed, tired, depressed, a tad irritable, and would jump at the slightest thing. Arlan, the previous demon, had done a number on her. She was lucky that she had summoned him when she had. Arlan had been one of the most powerful demons in the underworld, and when Hadeon had killed him (due to the amount of control Henriette chose to give him in what would have been her last moments), he took Arlan’s place, as is customary. He had been lucky that Henriette had expended most of her energy to drain Arlan’s power. Henriette had been even luckier that Hadeon knew what to do with a weakened demon. He wasn’t sure what had happened for such a high ranking demon to come over and use her as a host. While being able to summon (and contain) a font of such power was rare, Hadeon was unsure as to whether it was a thing to be complimented, since Arlan was rather annoying and manipulative. It was an excellent experience for Hadeon to completely destroy him, however. His death was most likely the best thing related to him that had ever happened.

“You used to be so helpful, Blaise. What happened to you?” “Had a bit too much fun. Judging from your current state, I think you could understand,” Blaise smirked, turning back into the pillar of smoke. “You have no idea what happened. How dare you make assumptions!” roared Hadeon. “Oh no, I’ve struck a nerve! What are you going to do, snap my spine again? You’re all bark and no bite, Hadeon. You know I’ll just come back,” Blaise teased. “Not this time,” Hadeon growled, walking forward, feeling his rage take the wheel. Blaise still didn’t seem concerned, and took it all like it was a game. That was his mistake, especially as a lower-ranking demon. His only advantage was the ability to return and annoy Hadeon further, but he didn’t know it. He often overestimated his power if he didn’t fully understand it, causing frequent power trips and then crashes when he realized he couldn’t do it all. While it seemed like he knew some of his abilities well (and he did, especially teleportation), he often got carried away in the rush he got from using his magic properly. This would cause him to go farther and go all in when he didn’t even know how. He was a novice at using some magic (such as shapeshifting), so charisma was his main weapon, and how he’d nearly taken Henriette from Hadeon. “I’d be careful if I were you. You remember what happened last time you let something like this happen?” Blaise taunted. “I remember killing you and you being unable to return for a good eight months. I’ll happily take that outcome once more, if not you being permanently destroyed, like you should have been,” Hadeon scowled at Blaise, who was trying to shift into a humanoid form to make his escape instead of teleporting, for some reason. Perhaps he hid his terror and was merely too freaked out to think straight. Hadeon didn’t care. This worked for him, as it was what he was used to. Causing fear in potential hosts or victims usually meant they were unstable and therefore easier to work with and control. While he didn’t want to control Blaise, a victim’s fear made killing them more satisfying and required less effort. “Hey hey, buddy. Just give me a minute while I try to match you, alright? Then we’ll do whatever you want.” “It isn’t my fault or my problem that you’re an incompetent shapeshifter. I can kill you either way. Don’t think about escaping either. You know I’ll find you.” “N-no, I know that. Just, uh, let me-” “Stop stammering. It won’t delay your destruction.” “Can you blame me? It’s literally what my name means.” “You have a terrible name.” “Finally, we agree on something.” “Shut up.”

“Why should I trust you? You left, probably killed someone, and came back with a body. Where did you go, why, and what did you actually do?” she demanded an answer out of the demon, pointing the dagger at his neck and forcing his retreat. “Relax, kid. Just went home for a bit to check nobody tried to sell you again. My current host agreed to this. I’ll let him speak to you for a bit, if you’re ever desperate for conversation.” “PEOPLE TRIED TO SELL ME?!” “Uh, yeah. It was an auction. Don’t worry, I prevented anything from going too far.” “PEOPLE TRIED TO SELL ME IN AN AUCTION?! WITHOUT ME KNOWING?!” “Yes. How do you think some demons choose their hosts?” “Is that how you-” “No.” “Okay, good.” “So…” The demon awkwardly looked around the collapsing gymnasium. Students and staff members either ran by them and out the door, without batting an eye, or were crushed by the falling ceiling and walls.

“What…the…heaven…?” murmured one of the demons. “Get in, demons, we’ve got a city to blow up,” called Hadeon, rolling down the window. “Hadeon, that’s a child,” a demon with a silk black gown, a red feather boa, and pearl jewelry told him. “I know. She’s with me. Do you want to cause chaos or not?” “Hadeon, it’s technically a town,” interjected Henriette. “Same difference,” he grumbled. “You need to stop referencing pop culture no one cares about,” snarled the demon with the gown and boa. “Shut up, Deceiver. You’re not here to piss me off.”

Thanks for reading! I hope this was what you were looking for!

[delulu-forthe-solulu]

Somewhere to put my Dazai headcanon.

So I'll start off by saying that this is a personal hc. it's not canon or anything like that please don't @me. Having said that, let's move on.

Dazai hc/bsd fic idea, etc whatever_ so no one gets depressed out of nowhere and whatnot, not to mention his mysterious past, etc, etc, so what if…. he remembers all the AUs he created for Oda, well somethings gotta give so what if the show isn’t actually entirely the true og verse, or maybe it could be; so anyways he got his hands on ‘The Book’ and went on this journey and created so many worlds just for him, so the Book in a sense is God’s book and this world is the story written down in its pages and we’re all the characters there, so one can’t deal so long with such an artifact and remain the same and I feel as though not many can actually even handle it even if they want to. So in a sense, he is a pseudo god almost/somewhat, in that he is functionally immortal, in the sense that nothing can kill him.

Nothing can remain unchanged, but the Book should rewrite the universe for the writer and I believe no one would properly remember not even the writer, for the previous world no longer truly exists and never actually did since it’s been erased, like pencil lines from a book. So he kept meeting Oda in every world and got attached and would rewrite the world for him not remembering the previous timeline, until at one point he slowly started to retain his memories, first in half-remembered bits and pieces and later in its entirety till he even started remembering the forgotten timelines too. The Beast AU was the only one where he could save him by forcing himself to stay away, and the show is actually his final closure he decided to get peace cause after all these worldlines he is tired, that’s where the suicidal tendencies come in. My dude is just tired of life at this point, he’s lived too long and suffered too much, made worse by the fact that he can’t actually die(cause ding ding ding, he’s immortal), thus the blaise attitude toward his life being in danger added on the fact that he’s gone through terrifying and dangerous shit too many times and too many times in too many different flavours to really be worried.

I hc that he was more cautious in the og verse and somewhat more serious as in personality wise and about death(back then the only trauma was his own shitty asf childhood and issues with his seeming psychopathy(in the medical sense)). Now he is in short basically a pseudo god in that,....think of it like this, God is the only one who can make change to the book that is the world, this book being made using pages cut from the fabrics of reality itself bound in a cover to hold the immense weight of the power and responsibility it holds, so one man kept finding this book over and over again even though he retained no memory of the previous worldline(s), that doesn’t make senses; so with every attempt his very being itself changed as the book injected parts of the realities into him and bit by bit bound him to the story that was his world meaning that he is literally tied to the universe itself and invulnerable to the Book’s changes and shifts as an author should be, for the author changes the book and it’s world not the other way around, now the thing is that he cannot supersede the true author of the Book who made it, that is impossible, but the Book and it’s powers can now no longer entirely influence him and he is functionally immortal, with the only thing one can do to kill him is destroy their universe, not worldline or timeline no, but the entire universe(multiverse) itself and every world, universe and timeline within it, basically destroying the true book of the true authour itself(why do I say true author, well the Book isn’t the true book of the worldline but more of a drafts book a segment of its power, no one other that God could have or use or even see the true book).That’s where No Longer Human comes from as well in the sense that it is meant literally that he is no longer human but something else, the ability being the invulnerability to the Book and all power connected to it, that is how he can nullify all abilities in that they cannot affect him at all.(all the abilities are connected to the book obv in that they are allowed a connection to it to draw power in their specific manner from it, abilities are basically after all like twists in reality itself so it all comes from the book but you cannot change it, that’s true, I mean thing ok its like this, killing a man with a touch doesn’t make sense, you’re basically twisting reality into giving you what you want by changing it, it is watered down and done through hoops and obstacles in such a way that no comes close to directly changing or connecting to it and thus the only way you can rewrite the world line is by writing in it directly so no one actually rewrites worldlines by using their abilities). This is also why he is considered special even though people don’t know anything, because once you truly think about it his existence doesn’t make sense as an anti-ability is in direct contrast to an ability itself being its direct antithesis and (unknowing to other people) the Book itself because he is in a sense somewhat free from its constraints and changes and abilities(more of a halfway selective(by the book)thing).

Note that this might seem disjointed, that's cause the hc literally possessed me till I wrote it down so I apologise for the word vomit. Again I'll add that this is a headcanon meaning it's not canon, I mean I wouldn't mind it being canon, but like Ik there ain't a snowball's chance in hell that'll happen. Ik I've been reaching pretty far with some of these but still. So yeah, I hope y'all were at least somewhat able to make sense of that. Thanks for reading this mess.

Have a good day folks.

[selenesheart]

astonished // d.m.

word count: 1.9k words

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), innocent looking reader, best friends au, dirty talk, wet dream, praises, naughty thoughts.

summary: draco never thought the innocent y/n would give such an amazing blowjob.

a/n: thanks to @silverdelirium for telling me to write ily

—————

“oh yeah! just like that,” draco groaned as he held your hips tightly, the side of your face pressed against the mattress harshly by his hand. his hips coming in contact with yours, clapping sounds could be heard from where the two of you connected.

heavy breathing, sweaty hands, and a very visible boner. those were the things draco woke up to. lately, he’s been having these sweet dreams that involved you getting naked at the end.

the blonde groaned as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, he couldn’t control it, the thought of shagging you until you were breathless, it always came back. even it the worst times possible.

he felt guilt swirl at the pitch of his stomach, embarrassment fulfilled his body at the many times he’d dreamed about you, on that little skirt of yours.

he felt bad, yet he could help but imagine those little innocent eyes of yours, or how you would look with your fingers going in and out of you repeatedly.

he was sure that you had little to no experience in the sexual world. considering the fact that he had watched boys and girls give you useless hints, and joked about their sex life, yet you gave no reactions to those conversations, having no clue of what any of that meant, or so he thought.

────

“why don’t you shag her, then?” blaise spoke shortly after draco explain his situation to his best friend. “shh! no, I’m not doing such thing.” draco shushed blaise, he wasn’t really trying to get humiliated in the middle of breakfast.

“you know y/n,” draco sighed “she’s not really into that type of stuff.” said draco, the thought of telling you rushing in his mind, but quickly waving it off as he saw you walk in the great hall, with that bright smile, and those angelic features.

“how do you know?” asked blaise.

“pardon?”

“how do you know if she’s not into that type of stuff? I mean sure, she looks like she wouldn’t kill a soul, but again, it doesn’t mean she’s has a limited sex life.” he advised draco, who seemed to be deep in thought.

draco watched as you took sat with your friends, a few tables always from his.

blaise could be right. but he was too much of a coward to actually talk to you about such things, despite the fact that you know him like the back of your hand.

draco never imagined that his sweet, innocent best friend would even dare to be on her knees for someone. he felt his pants tighten at the thought of your beautiful body, sinking on your knees for him, glassy eyes looking up at him, mouth full of his heavy cock.

he took a deep breath as he gripped his silver spoon, he felt dizzy, and with shaky hands, he dismissed himself from breakfast. this girl would be the death of him.

────

“y/n!” your friend called “you’ve been staring at the same spot for more than thirty minutes,” they spoke quietly. blinking a few times, you tore your eyes from the blonde’s empty chair. wondering why would draco miss his favourite class? only if you knew.

you were worried for him. these past few weeks, he’d been avoiding you, acting a bit odd. sometimes you’d catch his eyes looking at you, analyzing every move you made. still, you would deliver him a sweet smile before returning to whatever your current task was.

sometimes, you wished those warm smiles, and the glances the two of you shared across the room meant something and the times where he would hold your hand under the table made you feel warm inside. you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think of the handsome blonde while your fingers were inside you.

often, you would think about how his mesmerizing eyes would hold eye contact while his dick would enter you roughly and fuck you senselessly until all you could do is mumble a few breaths of malfoy’s.

maybe this was wrong. yet you couldn’t help but have wild thoughts about your so-called best friend.

────

you took a deep breath before knocking on draco’s door, hoping that he would be alone at the moment. you played with your fingers while waiting, you bit your bottom lip slightly as you saw the dark door open with a tired draco behind it.

merlin, did he look good.

with slightly wet hair, pajama pants on, accompanied by a simple white shirt. if you didn’t know better, you would say that you could see the outline of his abs through his thin shirt. you let out a breath before speaking again.

“can— can we talk?” you asked quietly, you watched as draco’s jaw muscles flexed. he let you in his cold dorm as he eyed you for a second, taking your appearance in.

you had a night slip covering your body, considering that it was almost curfew, you just wanted to have a small talk with him before heading to your room. it took all of him to not stare at your cleavage for more than a second.

“what do you want to talk about?” he said nervously, maybe you had used the legilimency spell on him and read of all his naughty thoughts about her getting naked with him. or perhaps…

“why are you avoiding me draco?” the way his name left your mouth was intoxicating. he furrowed his brows, walking closer to you. you felt small under his presence.

“i’m not!”

“yes, you are”

“no, i am not”

“what did i do wrong?” you questioned your best friend, maybe it had something to do with the way you treated him in the past.

“what? nothing, you did nothing wrong. it’s just that—” his voice died as he closed his eyes, he took a deep breath. he didn’t really want to tell you how he felt about you. what if you left and never came back to his life? he didn’t want to risk it.

“it’s just what? tell me draco,” you raised your voice unexpectedly “tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” you said sweetly. he hated the way you could still be sweet even when you just finished yelling at him.

“it’s nothing, I swear!” he raised his voice immediately “how about we talk in the morning, hm?” he hummed, trying to save his embarrassment for the next day.

“just tell me what’s going on so I can go!” you yelled, anger and frustration building up in your body. your eyes looking directly at his. you were extremely close now.

“fine!” he yelled, you could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears “I’ve had wet dreams about you and… I still do, okay?” he admitted, he groaned as he rubbed his temple in frustration.

“and I know you’re not quite familiar with—” he tried to explain himself before you cut him off.

“draco” you breathed, you took his face in your hands. hesitantly, you brought your lips to his, kissing him slowly but firmly. after the two of you parted lips, he looked lost of words.

“do you trust me?” you asked with a tiny smile on your face. he nodded, still dumbfounded by the breathtaking kiss you just gave him.

soon, the two of you were devouring each other. lips, tongues connected as you took your time taking off your night slip dress. when it was off draco wasted no time on caressing one of your soft breasts, rolling your hardening nipple between his fingers. finally feeling the tits he always imagines while stroking himself at night.

you disconnected your lips from his as he took his shirt off, muscular, smooth chest on display. your hand traveled from his chest to his lower stomach. palming his growing cock through his pants.

he breathed out your name when you got on your knees, holding his long legs for support. he began telling you that you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t want to before you shushed him. you placed small kisses over his crotch, smiling slightly as you felt it twitch against your lips.

you hooked your fingers in his pants, bringing his pajama pants down along with his underwear. you observed his heavy dick with parted lips, it looked delicious. your hand came in contact with the tip as your eyes went up to his face. innocent eyes looking up at him.

the fact that you still looked innocent drove him crazy, it made the desire for you grow. he felt filthy, yet he couldn’t help but made him want to destroy you and that little innocent face.

“you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” you spoke so close to his dripping tip, he could feel your breath against it. he fought the urge of grabbing the back of your head and shoving his whole length down your throat.

your lips came in contact with his tip, sucking on it roughly, taking draco off guard. you were doing so good, mind-blowing good actually. he never imagined you would be so skillful with your mouth.

you took more of his cock in your mouth, your hands working on the rest of his length. then, you took all of him in, his tip pressed against your throat as his fingers made their way down your head, guiding you up and down while he threw his head back.

“you’re doing— oh— so good” he groaned lowly, one of his hands flew to his bed’s poster for support. you moaned against him at the praise, his word making you clench your thighs.

the blonde thrusted his hips, making you gag loudly, tears threatening to escape your eyes. draco caressed the side of your face lovingly like your mouth wasn’t full of his dick.

your hand made its way to his aching balls, folding them, as you hollowed your cheeks, making draco moan loudly.

“fuck! you’re so good to me,” his mouth opened, however, there was no sound coming out of it. he felt his high coming quickly.

you released a hand from him, taking it up until you were feeling his abs, you could feel how his muscles flexed against your skin from the pleasure. he was cumming soon.

you grabbed one of draco’s hands and guided it down to your chest so he could feel your desperate breasts. he saw stars the moment his fingers tips came in contact with your hard nipple, he grabbed your tit roughly as his prick twitched uncontrollably.

before you knew it, your best friend’s cum was dripping down your throat, stuffing your mouth with his warm cum as he moaned loudly from the pleasure you gave him.

your tongue collected all of the remaining liquid. draco felt like he was dreaming, his kind, innocent best friend just sucked him off like a fucking goddess. even if he was dreaming, he would surely wank off to whatever this was in the future.

with his hands still on top of your breasts, you opened your mouth to show him that you had swallowed all of his cum. his eyes grew dark.

“oh merlin,” he sighed as he felt his dick hardened once more.

—————

[dracowars]

can i request an imagine im so sorry if it’s too long for your liking but could it be a pureblood slytherin reader x draco imagine where the reader and draco are dating but after some bad news from home (maybe she doesn’t have the kindest parents like draco) she distances herself from everyone and keeps zoning out and finds herself astronomy tower thinking really dark thoughts but draco has constantly been watching over her and is super worried and maybe they have an argument at the tower and draco gets stupid and says something mean or even is dumb to think to accuse her of cheating at the end in which the reader maybe either slaps him (for dramatic effect) or if that’s too much she just says it’s over between the two and she walks off and draco is shocked and tries to stop the reader but she’s already gone and she doesn’t show up to breakfast or lunch and maybe in their class they learn about the boggart again and since they’re older their fears have changed and maybe the reader isn’t paying attention and she’s brought up to test her boggart and it’s draco saying those same things and maybe her parents come out as well and it’s essentially that draco’s unkind words are her fear because it’s the last straw for her until everything breaks because she was holding onto him and she runs out of class and class is dismissed because no one wants to go after that and the reader skips dinner and can be found in moaning myrtles bathroom having a panic attack and she gets really frustrated and hits the the sink really hard to feel something and you can hear myrtle begging the reader to stop and maybe someone sees her and runs to draco to get help but draco runs to the bathroom she’s not there anymore and he finds her at the astronomy tower feeling numb and he overhears her talking to herself and it ends in fluff because he can’t lose her and he figures out it’s probably her parents pressuring her too much again and he can relate because of his and they get back together and it’s just really fluffy at the end maybe they sneak in the kitchen for a quick minute dinner since the reader didn’t eat and draco has to be really kind to the elves heheh

darkness | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,1k

summary: where y/n's parents make her life a living hell and draco doesn't really help

a/n: normally i do not write about things like this but i actually really liked the request so i wrote it anyway. i don't mean to offend anyone with this if i misrepresented something, i did my best to get familiar with the topic <3

warnings: angst, major mental health issues including dark thoughts and self-doubt, hints of su*c*de, mentions of blood, cursing, very sensitive topics in general

universe: harry potter

The cold wind blows through your hair and makes it swirl around the air and into your face, goosebumps spreading all over your body at the sudden coldness. To prevent your hair from flying around, you tame your hair with a hair tie, your gaze fixed straight ahead while your face is illuminated by the setting sun.

You really missed this place during the holidays. The astronomy tower.

Whenever you are stressed from doing a lot of homework or studying in general, this is the place you can hust go to and are somehow always able to relax. The view is breathtaking and you love to watch the sun - or the moon, depening on what time of the day you find yourself up here - shine.

And this special place also gives you the security that you so urgently needed.

The winter holidays were a living hell for you. You have extremely strict parents who see a great importance in your education, but that is basically the only thing that interests them about you. That you bring honor to your pureblood family. That they can proudly show you off to other pureblood families even though they know nothing about you and who you really are.

Until recently they did not even know that you are in a relationship. Unfortunately, one thing led to another and they found it out by an unlucky coincidence which consisted of them picking you up at platform 9¾ for the very first time since you have been at Hogwarts. There they saw you with a platinum haired boy, kissing.

This boy turned out to be Draco Malfoy, the son of the pureblood Malfoy family, who you parents cannot stand at all. To put it in other words, they loathe each other to death and that for probably no reason, at least you have not been able to figure it out yet.

So of course they were not very thrilled that you are in a relationship with a Malfoy, which they showed you straight away. They locked you inside of your room at home because you had to 'think about your actions and their consequences'.

However, when they realized that their behavior would not change anything, they began to put you down. They threw the worst swear words at you, wanted to force you to break up with him and told you what a terrible shame you are for your family. That Draco could never love you and that you are ugly, cheap and overall useless. That is how it went on for your whole vacation.

Your parents always treated you this way, it was not new to you. Nevertheless it hurts every time, even if you try to hide it. You would rather keep all the pain inside of you than to tell others about it, because they are not able to help you anyway. Unfortunately, you did the math without your boyfriend.

This morning at the Central Station of London, Draco immediately saw that you were not feeling well. Any attempts to get you to tell him what is going on with you had been useless though so he left you alone at some point, but you still noticed how he kept staring at you for the whole train ride to Hogwarts.

You would love to tell him, tell him about everything, but something inside of you is stopping you from doing so. An invisible barrier inside of your head, probably fear, that you simply cannot overcome. You know that Draco's parents are pretty similar to yours, but still you just cannot manage to talk to him and you notice how it slowly but surely destroys your deep bond with one another.

Continuing to look into the distance and watch the clouds encircle the beautiful setting sun, which colors the sky in reddish colors, your thoughts suddenly wander to gloomy places. Dark places where you usually only go to when you are locked inside of your own room at home.

But now they are even attacking you at your safest place.

You perfectly know yourself that you are not good enough for Draco. You do not deserve this incredibly great person as your boyfriend. You do not even deserve him as a best friend, no, you do not deserve him at all. You are worthless and for him you are nothing more than one girl out of many.

And still you keep on being selfish and do not end it.

Completely lost in your own dark thoughts, you do not even notice at first how the tears are already streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. Sniffling, you rub your eyes, smeer your discreetly applied mascara, and wipe the tears from your face.

"Why am I still doing this to myself?", you sob and lower your head, looking deep down at the grounds of Hogwarts. The tears that are enriched with pain flow out of your eyes and fall into the dark depths, causing you to slowly close your eyes.

The sudden mention of your name from behind you makes you abruptly breathe out in shock and your head jumps up as you turn around. Your eyes lock with the gray, sparkling eyes of your boyfriend, who is currently looking at you with pity.

"W-What are you doing here, Draco?", you sniff and wrap your arms around your body in an attempt to hide from him so he does not have to look at you.

"Why are you crying?", he asks, ignoring your question, and before you can realize, he is already standing right in front of you and gently places his hands on your tear stained, puffy cheeks. Gently wiping away your tears with his thumb, he searches your eyes for answers that can explain your current terrible condition. He cannot bear to see you like this, so fragile and deeply hurt.

Whatever happened, he will make sure you know that he is and always will be here for you. And he will not let, whatever it is, continue to hurt you so badly.

"If you do not tell me, then I cannot help you", he softly whispers and brushes the strands of hair behind your ear that have escaped from your ponytail in the wind and then carefully lifts your head so you have to look him in the eyes.

"It's nothing", are the only words you get out, your throat thightening, but all you would like to do is to just finally tell him about everything.

"Do you even realize how worried I am about you, Y/N?! It is killing me!", Draco suddenly raises his voice at you, causing you to flinch and take a step back, your back now touching the railing. Noticing the power of his words, he sighs and looks to the ground in shame.

Your head processes his facial expression and his gestures and again makes you believe that his sadness is your fault. By not being able to control your stupid feelings, you hurt him.

"I-I really have to go", you stutter out and quickly run past him, pressing your coat around your body.

"Have fun with Blaise then", you hear him say and you abruptly stop in your motion. Not fully understanding the words he just said, you turn to him.

"What?", you ask with not more than a breath coming out, hurt evident in your expression as he suddenly stomps in your direction furiously, a disgusted look on his face while he looks into your eyes.

"Don't act stupid now, Y/N! You hardly speak a word to me anymore, you avoid body contact, you are totally dismissive in general and you can't even look at me anymore! Why do you not just admit that you are cheating on me?!", Draco accuses you out of nowhere, not knowing what he is even saying himself, and you could swear that at this very moment your heart has finally burst into a thousand splinters and your last hold has now completely disappeared.

Losing the control over your body for a second, your hand lands on his cheek with full force. There is a dead silence before you just turn and leave, leaving him behind on the astronomy tower. You can hear him say your name after you, but you block it out and run down the stairs, crying, your vision blurred.

Missing one of the last stairs in your hurry, you fall down onto the cold floor. You get up again as quickly as possible when you hear steps behind you and you run. You run for your life while you disappear into the endless corridors of Hogwarts, making your way to your dorm.

The next morning your eyelids stick together from all the crying and you have a aching headache. You did not close one eye that night and just laid there crying in your bed silently until at some point there were no more tears.

In front of the door of your prefect dorm room, you can hear how the other students are leaving your house on their way to breakfast, but your stomach makes a flip when you only think about food. That is the reason why you decide to stay in your warm, safe and comfortable bed a little longer and to skip breakfast, which is unnecessary anyway. Avoiding other people seems like the best idea for you right now.

Just in time for the beginning of your first lesson of the long day, you made it out of your bed and are now sitting in Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Snape.

Your thoughts are whirling around in your head and you do not understand a single word Snape is saying in front of the class, even if you are really trying your best to understand him. Furthermore does it not help your concentration that you see how Draco keeps staring at you from across the room out of the corner of your eye. However, you do not have enough strength for this anymore after a while and therefore focus your gaze out the window at the rising sun.

At least you are distracted until all of the students get up from their seats all of a sudden and you only watch them confused until you notice that they are only waiting for you to join them and you quickly walk, almost stumbling, to them. Ignoring the looks and laughter of everyone, you play around with the hem of your grey Slytherin sweater and ignore them while doing so.

"Well then, let us begin. Ms. Y/L/N, would you please do us the honor and start", Snape clears his throat as you look at him in shock, noticing by the expression on his face that he definetely knows that you did not listen to him at all and have not been present with your mind.

Since you do not have a chance to defy yourself anyway, you nod and go to the position he points at in front of an old, dusty closet. With confusion all over your face, you switch between looking at Professor Snape and the cabinet as he suddenly opens the door and you take a big step back, startled to death.

"Have fun with Blaise then", Draco spits in your face disparagingly and is now slowly walking towards you after stepping out of the cupboard, increasing your pulse. The tears find their way back into your eyes right away while you just keep looking at him petrified, frozen in your spot.

"Why do you not just admit that you are cheating on me?!", he yells at you again and your vision becomes more and more blurred, your ears start to beep while he shouts at you, bringing back the painful memories of yesterday.

"No! Please don't leave me, Draco!"

It is like you are back on the astronomy tower again, your hair blowing in the wind as he steps towards you. In the next moment he is gone all of a sudden and instead of him, two other people are now in front of you.

"You are a shame for our whole family, you stupid brat", your father insults you and you fall onto your knees, holding your hands against your head in pain.

"Stop it! Please!", you beg them, but of course they do not stop, they only make their words worse.

"Draco can never seriously love someone like you. I mean, look at you! You are less worthy than dirt", your father tells you and your entire body is now trembling when you finally see a black cloak in front of your eyes and your parents vanish into thin air.

"Please stay with me", you choke through your tears, words addressed to Draco who had to watch the scene in front of him with pure horror in his eyes.

Breathing heavily, you look up at Professor Snape, who looks at you in disbelief, but as your eyes wander around the room to see everyone staring at you, your legs automatically carry you out of the classroom in the next moment, unable to bear their burning glances.

You run down the empty corridor with a faint vision in search of a safe place to hide until you arrive at one of the girls' bathrooms and rush in, not thinking about someone possibly being in there.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you stumble to the sinks with trembling knees and support all of your weight with your hands on either side of one sink as your legs fail beneath you. Clinging to the edge of the sink, you cry bitterly. The cold walls of the bathroom echo your crying several times, allowing you to hear your own pain.

"What is wrong, Y/N?", you hear a soft voice next to your ear and when you look up it is none other than Myrtle. Apparently of all places you ended up in her bathroom and are not as alone as you wished for.

"I am fine", you say with a monotonous voice, forcing yourself into an upright position, but literally everyone would see that you are definetely not fine, even a ghost.

"Y/N. You look anything but okay. Can I somehow help you-"

"Just leave me alone!", you angrily yell at her and lose control of your body, only seeing a thick, red substance running over your hand when it is already too late. Broken pieces of glass lie around you on the floor, which flew through the air when your fist hit them and inflicted small wounds on your face.

"You need to stop, Y/N!", Myrtle commands, but you do not listen and let yourself fall onto the floor, kicking your foot against the sink and thereby unintentionally loosen one of the old pipes. The sound of flowing water fills the room, surrounding your body on the floor.

On the edge of passing out, you lie in the cold water and stare at the ceiling while Myrtle has disappeared without a trace.

What you do not know, however, is that Myrtle is already on her way to find help and comes across Draco, who is running back and forth through the hallways while searching for you.

It takes Draco a moment to understand Myrtle's fast explanation, but when he does he runs into the direction of the girls' bathroom without hesitation. He rushes through the door into the flooded bathroom and all he sees is the broken mirror and the slightly reddish puddles in the water.

But he does not find you in there and realizes that there can only be one place where you could be.

Walking through the corridors of Hogwarts at lightning speed, he finally reaches the staircase leading to the astronomy tower and goes them up in no time. Once he arrives at the top, he abruptly stops when you come into his field of vision.

There you are, completely broken, leaning your head against the railing, your knees closely drawn to your body while your painful crys echo through his ears.

"Why did you not listen to your parents, you disgusting piece of daughter", you talk to yourself, not noticing that you are not alone any longer. With your already injured hand you hit the pole of the railing once, immediately regretting it as the pain spreads through your body.

However, your gaze lands on a person standing directly ahead and your eyes widen, but unfortunately you lack the strength to stand up, to yell at him, or to resist as he slowly sits down next to you.

Neither of you say a word, but it does not take long before he gently takes you into his strong arms, providing you with the support you needed so badly, so you can cry while he strokes over your hair. He whispers repentances in your ear over and over again. That he regrets his words, that he takes them back and that he was such an idiot.

"You are so wonderful", he confirms and gives you a kiss on the forhead, careful not to scare you away, continuing to stroke your upper arm with his hand.

"Do not believe in what your parents told you, angel. I will stay with you", he shakily breathes and has to pull himself together to not let a tear slip out of his eyes at any moment. "I am sorry that I let you down."

His last few words pull a trigger inside of your head and suddenly everything pours out of your mouth at once. Your fears, your worries. Everything your parents ever said or did to you. You finally tell him about all of it now, even though you should have done it much earlier.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N. You are my world and the reason I live. Never let anyone make you think that I do not love or deserve you, especially not your parents", Draco explains to you sincerely as you stare at him, exhausted but happy.

You slowly put your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, letting the good and bright drown out all of your dark and bad thoughts. Meanwhile, Draco carefully examines your injured hand before scooping you up into his arms while standing up.

"No matter how much you hate me right now, you have to eat something", he tells you, but you do not answer and just enjoy his close presence while you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, letting him carry you away.

If he had known how terrible you were feeling earlier, he would have done something much sooner. He should have been more pushy and not let you get away with a simple 'i am fine'. But now that he knows, he definetely learned from it.

And Draco would have never forgiven himself if he had let you just go like that.

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 7

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Content warnings: death mention

Morgan was surprised to return to consciousness. He hadn't expected that to happen again. He was lying in a rough bed, covered by thin sheets. His eyes wouldn't quite focus, but sunlight was shining through a window and giving everything a golden cast. It smelled familiar, like healing herbs - maybe Akara's cabin? Someone must have arrived just in time to save them from Andariel's clutches. His efforts certainly hadn't bought enough time for an enthralment to wear off. He made to sit up, but the pain that lanced through his arm cut that plan short. He cried out before he could stop himself, biting down on his lip to muffle the sound. Even that hurt more than it should have.

The priestess appeared beside the bed. "Finally back with the living, are you? Good. We've been worried. Drink this." She pressed a cup to his lips. He hadn't realized how thirsty he'd been, but he gulped back the water quickly. The cool liquid soothed his raw throat a little. It still hurt to swallow, probably to speak as well.

He risked a soft "Thank you," barely more than a whisper. It felt like his throat was lined with sand, and he grimaced.

"Just rest, hero." Hero? The confusion must have been plain on his face. The expression of concern had been out of character, but this was much stranger. Akara gave him a sympathetic, slightly worried look. "Don't you-"

Blaise burst into the small room at top volume. "You're finally awake! The great hero rises at last! I've been telling everyone how you defeated Andariel and saved us all. They'll be so glad to see you've pulled through!" She was making an unusual amount of eye contact. This was a cue, then. Despite the confusion of the situation, Morgan found himself relaxing a little. It was good to see her alive and well, although she continued to baffle him. Why would she lie about what had happened?

"It would be a treat to hear the tale from your point of view for a change," Akara murmured. Blaise's smile froze. She was, Morgan realized, banking on him playing along with the version of events she'd laid out. He'd already told her he didn't lie, so why would she involve him this way?

"I, ah..." He cleared his throat and regretted it instantly, wincing. "I'm afraid I... don't remember that," he said carefully. It wasn't a lie - he couldn't remember what had never happened.

Akara clicked her tongue. "I've seen this happen before. Poisons can wreak havoc on the memory. It's a shame." Blaise looked relieved. "Anyway, now that you've made it through the worst of it, I can get out and replenish my stock." She was already slipping a cloak over her shoulders. "Blaise, you'll keep an eye on him, hm?" It was not a question, and she did not wait for a response before leaving.

Blaise watched the door until the sound of footsteps faded away, then she turned on Morgan with a ferociously angry expression. "You're a complete fucking idiot and I don't care if you don't remember any of it. I'll sum it up for you: you decided to just jump up on Andariel like she wasn't going to destroy you in one second. Then - of course - she did. We're both fucking lucky that I managed to shake her stupid demon mind control and put a whole quiver of arrows through her ugly skull. Now tell me what in fuck's sake you were thinking when that seemed like a good idea to you."

Her sudden switch from cheerful to enraged was confusing and overwhelming. "You were enthralled, I had to try something," he blurted. He didn't know what she wanted to hear, but evidently it wasn't that.

"You should have tried going back for some fucking help! That's what any person with a brain in their idiot head would have done!"

That hadn't even occurred to Morgan. Given the prevailing attitude toward his brotherhood, asking for help from others was not usually an option. He would have rejected the idea anyway - it would have spelled her doom, which would have been an unacceptable outcome, especially when the likelihood of receiving help from the others was so low. They'd both managed to survive somehow, so why was she so upset? Maybe if he just explained. "As a follower of Rathma, my sworn-"

"Your sworn duty is to maintain the Balance. I know. I've heard your little speech. What does that have to do with anything?"

"The forces of darkness are gathering. I must do what I can to hinder evil and preserve good." Blaise just kept staring. Was that not enough explanation? Time to take it down to basic facts, then. "You're a good person, Blaise."

He was not expecting the series of emotions that crossed her face, most of which he couldn't identify. She settled on anger, which was recognizable but still confusing. He was also not expecting the slap that stung suddenly across his cheek. He winced. She was fast.

"What about now, huh? Do you still think I'm good?" Blaise's voice was low and dangerous. Morgan's eyes narrowed, searching her face for anything that would make sense of this. He found nothing. Why was she reacting so strongly to such a simple observation? Maybe - oh. Cain had mentioned Andariel's influence extending to emotional anguish as well, not just physical. That... well, that might explain this volatility but it wouldn't help him navigate it. He wasn't going to lie to her. It wouldn't matter anyway, since it felt like neither answer was going to be correct.

"Yes."

Another slap, harder than the last one. Morgan bit back a yelp. She had managed to hit the exact same spot, and he could already feel it beginning to swell.

"How about now?" Her voice trembled with anger. This was going nowhere.

"The answer -" here he flinched, closing his eyes in anticipation of the next strike. "- will continue to be yes, no matter how many times you hit me." Nothing. Maybe he'd gotten through. He opened his eyes hesitantly, only to be met with another slap. He made a soft grunt of pain, despite himself.

"You're a fool," Blaise spat. So she didn't believe his assessment. This could definitely be solved with more explanation. He just had to choose his words carefully. His cheek throbbed.

"I have spent enough time around you," he began slowly, looking at a spot on the wall. It felt safer than making eye contact. "To observe that you are loyal, brave, kind, and fair." He didn't dare risk looking over at her, so instead he continued. "I am an outsider with... few social graces. I keep company with the dead. You were ordered to escort me on an unpleasant and dangerous quest, which nearly got you killed." He paused to swallow, grimacing. His throat burned painfully, but he wasn't finished. "All things considered, it is reasonable for you to hate me. That does not change your nature."

Something else was beginning to occur to him. Blaise wasn't saying anything, so he forged ahead despite the discomfort. "And yet, despite all the trouble I've caused you, you still went to the effort of bringing me back here. To your healer. It would have been easier to leave me. Where I fell."

She snorted at that. So at least she had been listening. "And what do you suppose I would have told everyone then, huh?"

Morgan turned his head to look at her again, searching for some sign - was this a trick question? What was the answer supposed to be? He decided to go with the factual. "That I died. You don't mark the passing of outsiders here."

That earned him another scoff. At least it wasn't a blow. "Yeah, that would go over great. 'Hey, everyone! We defeated Andariel! Where's Morgan, you ask? Oh, he died in battle and I just left his corpse down there in the monastery.'"

A deep-seated emotion coiled around his ribs, squeezed like a snake. That wasn't what happened at all. Wasn't what would have happened. All the pieces of it were wrong. He could feel himself scowling, a visceral reaction to the feeling in his chest.

"See? That wouldn't be right," Blaise said.

"No. Not in battle," he spat. Ridiculous. It hadn't been a battle. He'd barely put up a fight at all. "He died a coward," he corrected, half snarling. "Screaming. Writhing. Helpless. Like a worm on a hook." He wished the poison had taken his memory as Akara had suggested. Instead, he remembered each terrible second with crystal clarity.

Tears had sprung to his eyes. Apparently he was also feeling the emotional effects of Andariel's influence. Recognizing that didn't help. He drew a shaky breath and raised his hands to wipe away the tears. A searing pain shot through his injured arm as he moved it and he choked back a cry, pressing the limb back against his side where it hadn't hurt so badly. He scrubbed at his eyes with his good hand, but when his fingers brushed the spot on his cheek where Blaise's hand had connected, he made another soft sound of pain. Gods above, why did everything have to hurt so much? The anger and frustration and embarrassment all boiled over suddenly, without warning. An animal sound bubbled up from inside him, a growl that opened up into almost a howl before being overtaken by violent coughing. That hurt too, of course.

Strong hands gripped Morgan's shoulders, sat him upright and rubbed his back as the coughing fit subsided. Shame burned hot across his face. He was supposed to be able to control his emotions, but evidently he hadn't completed his training as well as he'd thought. To lose his composure so completely, then get treated like this - like a child! By someone who barely even tolerated his presence, probably compelled by pity. He closed his eyes and lay back, wishing he could just disappear.

Blaise spoke softly now. "You're not a coward, you know. You were actually really good down there." A hollow feeling settled over Morgan. Now he was definitely being pitied. This was worse than the anger, harder to accept. People were often angry at him, and he was at peace with that. But this... this made him feel so small, and he hated it.

"Don't," he rasped.

"What?"

"You don't have to... soothe my pride." His lip curled. "I know what I am." Weak. Pathetic. A burden. "I will leave as soon as I am well enough. It should be easy to avoid me until then." That ought to please her, the promise of seeing him gone. He was certainly looking forward to being alone so he could work on regaining his emotional control.

"Listen, Morgan." Blaise's voice was quiet, serious. She sighed. "I don't hate you."

That... no, that didn't make any sense. Most people disliked members of his Order on principle, and she had more reason than most to hate him. Morgan opened his eyes to peer suspiciously at the woman seated beside him. He couldn't read her expression. Was this a joke? Sarcasm? Did she really mean it? A long moment passed in silence. He broke it with the barest whisper, "Why?"

"You saved my life, idiot. You almost died trying, I thought - Anyway, I didn't hate you before that either. I wouldn't say I like you, exactly... I mean, you're... not normal. But it's obvious you're trying to do what's right, and I respect that." She made a face like she'd tasted something sour. "I haven't been... I mean, I know I've treated you - fuck, and just now..." She trailed off, ran a hand through her hair, and tried again. "Look, I'm sorry I hit you. I shouldn't have done that. I just don't... why would you say... why would you think I'm a good person? I've never even been nice to you."

"You don't have to be nice to me to be a good person," he explained tiredly. Nice was surface-level, easy for people to fake. Besides that, impartiality was a central tenet of Rathma's teachings. It was essential to the Balance. Personal feelings and experiences could not be permitted to colour a priest's judgment. Removing oneself from the equation had to be second nature. Being treated nicely, or not, had nothing to do with it.

Blaise was making that sour face again, and Morgan didn't have the energy for any further explanation. He didn't feel like he had the energy for anything. Everything hurt and he was feeling a lot of emotions, most of which he was not at all comfortable with. He closed his eyes again. "I need to rest." He paused. "Thank you. For saving my life." No response came. That was fine. Silence was easy. So was slipping back into unconsciousness.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening! I'm writing for Drarropoly for @gameofdrarry this year along with my girlfriend so I hope you guys check my stories out and have a good time reading them! 

Position: The Burrow | Theme: Gryffindor. 

Things are always easier in groups. Unless someone is keeping a secret.

Choose one of the following: Group Project Group Date Group Vacation

N.E.W.T.s Level:     + Include non-linear storytelling.     +Include the Established Relationship trope OR the Secretly Pining trope.

Min-Max Word Count: 3333-4444 words

Rating: Teen Audiences 

Tags: Harry Potter, Drarry, Relationship - Drarry, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Hogwarts, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, secretly pining, Non-Linear Narrative, non-linear storytelling 

Word Count: 3,350

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter have never gotten along as everyone in their lives will attest to. That's about to change when their so called 'friends' betray them and force them all to go on a group vacation together. 

It goes better than they would have expected.

                              what will this change? (everything)

Harry breathed in the crisp night air sharply, collapsed on the ground and still trying to regain his breath as he shivered at the cold, wet sand pressing against his bare back as warm palms dug into his shoulders. The heat of the palms only grew more prominent as fingers grasped at his skin even harder, Harry’s attention soon shattered and shot as he felt chilled, bare thighs pressed into the skin just above his hips. 

The silence of the night was only broken by crashing, breaking waves of the ocean only a few dozen feet away and the whisper-soft words of, “You’re staring.” Harry, who made absolutely no move to look away, couldn’t help the amused quirk of his lips as his hands moved. Sand still stuck to his palms, but instead they pressed into those chilled thighs, Harry feeling a thrill at the shiver that wracked through the body of Draco Malfoy.

“I could say the same thing about you, you know,” Harry finally said, only absently feeling his heart pounding away as he watched Draco’s eyes flutter, long lashes only just brushing the edges of his cheeks. “The others are probably wondering where we are by now.” 

It was barely a token protest, Harry’s own eyes starting to fall shut as Draco leaned in towards him, whispering a soft, “Probably.” The word brushed against his lips, Harry panting around warm breath as those lips swayed even closer. “We should probably head back.”

“Probably,” Harry repeated, fingertips pressing into soft, cool skin. It was more effort than it should have been to cut himself off with a sharp bite of his lip, watching as Draco breathed out a long, slow breath, thighs shaking on either side of him. “Draco.”

Those lips, chapped and bitten and dry like his own, were so close. Harry could just tilt his head up the smallest amount and… Draco’s shivers echoed against him, the other’s breathing heavy and hot as his hands clutched at him even more tightly, nails scraping against his skin. 

Harry bit back the sharp hiss of what was certainly not pain, instead looking up as he noticed stormy grey eyes looking into his own. They truly were a storm in their own right, swirling with magic and emotion and apologies and explanations and begging and so much. It was the most Draco had ever spoken to him and it was all said without a word. 

“What will this change?” Draco’s question, soft and whispered and immediately whisked away by the summer night breeze, was the question that Harry had been avoiding thinking about — the question they had both been avoiding. 

“I-” Harry shuddered as those lips were so close again, the breath they shared the exact same. Finally, miraculously, Harry managed to choke out, “I don’t know.” But… But, but, but- 

Draco started to lean away, and Harry had a hand on the back of the other’s neck before he could move more than a breath away. Draco froze in his grip and Harry was overcome with the same feeling he always had when he was on the verge of doing something stupid and incredible and overwhelming.

He was standing in front of fierce flames with enough potion for only one person to pass safely through. He was speaking in a language known only to a few, ready to find the truth to the answers kept from him all year. He was staring at himself across a lake, knowing he was about to lose everything and yet safe with the knowledge he wasn’t.

It was the feeling of facing down dragons, and Death Eaters, and mermaids, and the corrupted Ministry, and Tom Riddle, and Dumbledore’s plans, and Death, and it was the feeling of not yet. I’m not ready to let go yet. 

Draco was tense against him, hands shaking from where he had been trying to push himself up before Harry had pulled him back down because Harry really didn’t know what this would change in the end, but… “But isn’t it worth it to find out?”

“Is it?” A hand slipped up to press against Harry’s cheek, Draco’s gaze harsh and heavy. His eyes showed a storm that was ready to break; to rage and scream and destroy. “Is it really worth it?”

Harry was silent, watching that storm grow as excitement beat away in his chest. Finally, somehow, he managed the breath to speak, answering with a soft, “No.” Harry met Draco’s eyes, breathless as he finished, “But you are.”

The storm broke. 

⁂

“Pansy, my dear, you know I care deeply for you, but are you absolutely mad?” It was a terrible enough fate that Draco had been forced into agreeing to spend a summer vacation with Hogwarts’ Golden Trio of all things, but this? This was asking too much of him. “Why can’t I simply room with Blaise? We shared a dorm for seven years!”

“But Draco, darling, Ron is rooming with Blaise on this trip, remember?” Pansy’s sickly-sweet tone was a threat just as much as it was a warning and Draco cursed the day she had made friends with Hermione bloody Granger. Granger, on her part, only seemed as pleased as Pansy, the two standing with their arms linked together and identical smiles on their faces. Bloody harpies. “And there are only a limited amount of rooms available.” 

Draco opened his mouth to argue because like bloody hell that was true. Their little ‘group vacation’ was taking place at the beach house of Pansy’s aunt, and if that woman was one thing it was extravagant. Unfortunately, before Draco could craft an argument that would get him his way, Granger stepped in.

“Oh, that’s right, you were just telling me about that! Your aunt is doing renovations in most of the bedrooms here at the moment, right?” Granger was smiling but the look in her eyes was pure evil. Pansy, the little tart, seemed to get off on it, beaming. 

“Right you are, darling. I’m so glad someone seems to remember the things I tell them.” Pansy snapped her gaze to Potter, who had until that point been silent. Shame it wouldn’t remain that way. “Harry, darling, you’re content sharing a room with Draco, aren’t you?” Ah, but the anger in those shimmering green eyes was always so nice to admire. 

Draco had half a hope that Potter would actually throw his weight around for once and get them out of the mess they were about to be stuck in, but then he looked at Granger. Potter heaved a sigh, tone dull as he responded with defeat, “I’d be perfectly fine with it, yeah.” 

“Excellent!” Pansy clapped her hands together before whisking Granger away to another part of the house to no doubt seduce her into more misdeeds. Weasley, vapid git that he was, didn’t even seem bothered by the Pansy and Granger bonding. 

Instead he just gave a low whistle followed by an idiotic, “Rotten luck about the renovations, huh?” 

Blaise glanced to Draco, a clear look in his eyes of, He really can’t be that stupid, can he? There’s simply no way someone can be that daft. 

Draco, reasonably, turned his own look to Potter, a very, very clear, Of course he’s that bloody stupid. What do you expect? He’s friends with Potter of all people. 

Potter, for one shining glorious moment, looked as if he actually regretted choosing the weasel as the one he was stuck with as a friend for the rest of his life. As it was, he sighed and turned towards the prison cell they were stuck sharing together, “Let’s just settle in. We don’t have to be in these rooms apart from when we’re sleeping.” 

“That’s the part I’m worried about,” Weasley snorted, the heathen. He then glared at Draco, who made sure to give his own nasty glare back. “Perfect chance for a ferret to slit some throats-”

“Why you-!” Draco dropped the bag he had been carrying and stalked forward and so what if the girls had confiscated their wands as soon as they had arrived to teach them a lesson in ‘restraint’? Draco didn’t need magic to teach irritating little weasels a lesson-!

Blaise turned traitor and grabbed him before he could add one more murder to his long life of mistakes, sighing and half-laughing with a cheerful, “Well, this is going to be a fun trip, gentleman, don’t you think?”

“We’ve been here for two hours,” Potter said, stating the obvious as he always did. Honestly, he was good for nothing except brute strength and looking not completely bad. “I’m pretty sure you already made some blood pact with Hermione about something and Draco’s about to kill Ron.” 

“Draco?” Blaise asked before Draco could because since bloody when had he been Draco to that prat? As far as he was aware, they were Malfoy and Potter to the bitter end of the world. Honestly, acting as if the two were friendly after… well, everything. “Since when has he been Draco?”

Potter looked back at Blaise and then at Draco, those bright green killing curse eyes locking with his own. There wasn’t hatred like there had been for so many years — there wasn’t even annoyance and frustration. There was- Merlin, Draco didn’t know what to call those emotions. Breathtaking, perhaps, for a start. 

As Harry spoke, he didn’t look away from him. “You two may feel differently, but we’ve all lost enough after this war and fighting. I think I’ve had enough of enemies and burning bridges for a lifetime.” 

With that he was turning and walking into their room, Draco’s mind spinning a million different ways a minute because that- What had that been? Was he saying that he didn’t want anything to do with Draco anymore? Was he saying he wanted more to do with Draco? Did he, perhaps- Well, did he mean… Was it possible…? 

“You know,” Blaise whispered quietly, finally letting him go. “I think this little ‘vacation’ of ours just got a lot more interesting.” 

⁂

Harry sighed softly against warm, pink skin, lips twitching into a grin as he felt the body pressed against his own give a small shiver, followed by a groggy, “This is a terrible idea, you know.” 

“Absolutely awful,” Harry agreed, lazily shifting on the gritty, sand-covered bed before ducking down to press his lips against more of that smooth, soft skin. His tongue edged out to trace against bright red marks and slowly forming bruises. It was more than gratifying to hear Draco Malfoy give a wrecked, quiet moan that bordered on a whine. “Probably the worst idea we’ve ever had, huh?”

“The worst,” Draco agreed around a soft pant, tilting his head up to allow Harry just the access he needed to nip at already bruised skin. Harry had thought the man had been beautiful in the light of a full moon, but he was now certain that there was nothing more beautiful than Draco Malfoy groggy and half-asleep and hopelessly turned on in the early morning slips of sun that fell over their shared bed. “It’s just going to end in tragedy.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hummed, kissing at the sunlight touched skin and only stopping when fingers were tangling through his hair and tugging sharply. Harry laughed but followed the pull, lips slotting easily against Draco’s own. The kiss was already dangerously familiar, as was the way Draco’s hands dropped down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer — as close as they could get. “Probably use us an example of who not to fall for for years.” 

“Probably,” Draco repeated absently, those grey eyes warm and soft and still edged with sleep. “Harry…” The soft call of his name had shivers running down Harry’s back before he could even try to stop them. He was pretty sure he had never heard a better sound than Draco Malfoy calling his name like that. “It’s… It can’t be this simple.” 

“Why not?” Harry knew what Draco meant. It shouldn’t be so simple for them to just fall together so easily. There should have been far more kicking and fighting and screaming. It should have taken weeks or even months to realize there was something there between them, and even longer than that to act on it. That’s how it should have gone, but… in some fucked up way, Harry was pretty sure it already had gone that way. “Why can’t it be this simple?”

Draco’s hands clenched against him, annoyance starting to filter back into his eyes as he glared at him, muttering a sharp, “You know why. I’m- I was a Death Eater and you’re- You’re Britain’s Golden Boy! You-!”

Harry cut Draco off in his new favorite way, smothering the words with a kiss that Draco slowly but surely fell into. It was not long enough, in Harry’s opinion, when Draco pulled away with a pout, “Stop that. It shouldn’t- It shouldn’t be so simple.” 

“Maybe,” Harry allowed, going back to pressing soft kisses against wherever he could reach, grinning when Draco relaxed into the touches. “You wanna hear what I think, though?”

“What’s it matter what you think. You’re utterly daft,” Draco complained, tilting into the kisses before tapping at Harry’s shoulder blade, a clear message for him to continue. “Well? I’m listening, Potter.” 

Harry snorted, shaking his head and pulling back. He moved a hand to cup Draco’s cheek, grinning when he saw the other’s eyes flutter shut. “I think that I’ve had well enough of the world telling us who we’re supposed to be and what we’re supposed to do. So… I gave it some thought and you wanna know the answer I came up with.” 

“Mm?” Draco cracked his eyes open, seeming to almost study him before he was pressing his cheek more against Harry’s palm. “And what answer did you come up with, oh brilliant one?” 

Not even trying to smother his laugh, Harry leaned forward until his forehead bumped Draco’s. The sudden heat and craving in the man’s eyes had a shiver crawling down Harry’s own spine. “I decided… that I don’t care.” 

“You- What?” Draco blinked, some of that heat slipping away in favor of confusion. “What do you-”

“I mean that I don’t care what the world thinks or what it wants of me. I defeated their bloody Dark Lord, so now I’m going to do whatever I want — I’m going to chase after whatever makes me happy.” Harry ducked in to press a soft kiss to Draco’s lips, something sweet and short and simple. “And, God help me, you’re the one that makes me happy, Draco Malfoy.” 

Ah, there it was. Draco finally seemed to realize what Harry had been trying to tell him all night. Honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised that Draco was immediately trying to hide his face, cheeks flushed an even brighter red than they were when Harry had him on his back and was pounding into him. “You-! You can’t just-! Bloody prat-!”

“I can do whatever I want,” Harry teased, guiding Draco closer so the man could hide his face against Harry’s chest like he so desperately wanted. Harry wasn’t too upset about it. He had a feeling he would be seeing Draco’s flushed face far more in the future. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the Chosen One.”

Harry laughed as Draco cursed and squirmed against him, doing nothing whatsoever to actually get free or move away — and, really, Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew it wasn’t that simple and that the real world was still out there waiting for them, but… 

Surely it wouldn’t hurt for the two of them to be just Draco and Harry for just a bit longer. After all… they had time.

⁂

Pansy, the little harlot, had waited until Draco had taken a sip of his tea to tell him and Blaise her latest bit of news. As it was, while Draco hadn’t spitten his tea out because he was a gentleman, thank you, he did immediately start choking. Blaise didn’t even attempt to help him, in shock himself — not that Draco could blame him. It wasn’t everyday that their former best friend turned traitor was telling them that she had sold them out to Gryffindors. 

“Are you bloody mental?” Blaise shook his head, paused, and then shook it again. “Is this punishment for something? Have you been imperioused?” 

“It’s a vacation, Blaise,” Pansy lied to their faces, rolling her eyes as if she was in the right. “It’s not as if I’m signing you up for your deaths — besides, we’ll be going to my aunt’s beach house! Draco, darling, you love it there!”

“I do, yes,” Draco agreed, voice harsh from where he had almost died. “It just so happens that I also like it when it’s the three of us and not the three people in this world who most want me dead.”

“Honestly, Draco,” Pansy scoffed, settling back with her own cup and a disappointed cluck of her tongue. “You simply must get over this delusion that you hate Potter when we all want to know you want nothing more than for him to shag you silly-”

“Pancella-!” Draco hissed, and oh, she was never going to hear any good gossip from him ever again! “I am not going on this little suicidal mission you seem so intent on putting together with Granger of all people!”

“Hermione, darling, is perfectly pleasant.” Draco looked to Blaise, who looked just as disturbed as Draco felt over the matter. “And we agree that it’s time we put all of this school rivalry nonsense behind us and, since all of our schedules have lined up just so, we thought it would be great to vacation together!”

Blaise was the one to take up the fight, edging in with a hesitant, “Pansy, you know we love you. Truly, we do. We’ll fight any number of light-loving fools for you, but…” Blaise glanced to Draco, who made sure to show an expression that conveyed how properly upset he was with the matter. “Is this really such a good idea for all of us to go?”

“Honestly,” Pansy tsked. “Potter already agreed to the trip and you know that Weasley will do whatever Hermione asks of him-”

“He agreed?” Draco was surprised to find that he was the one who had spoken since he hadn’t actually meant to voice his question out loud, but… “Potter, knowing full well that I- we’re going to be there still agreed to go?” 

Pansy looked at him, something like sympathy warming her expression. It was far worse than any mocking she could have done. “Actually, Hermione mentioned to me that he hadn’t wanted to go at all until he knew you- Sorry, ‘we’ were going.” 

“Of course,” Draco scoffed, looking away sharply. “The fool probably just jumped at the chance of tormenting me, no doubt.” Still, though… For a moment, just a moment, Draco had heard Potter was going and he felt something like… 

A fool. Draco was an absolute fool who hoped for things that would never happen far too easily. Flights of fancy, as his mother would call them. He had no reason whatsoever to agree to this trip, and, for as much as Pansy seemed to believe she was in charge, she couldn’t make him go along with it.

“So, then.” Pansy sounded close to laughing, Draco firm in keeping his gaze on his empty tea cup, faint memories of tea leaves and their meanings stirring at the back of his mind. “Do you want to go on a vacation with us, Draco?”

She couldn’t make him go. Nothing would change. They would never get along. This was doomed to end in disaster. Draco was not going to go and simply make things worse. He was going to say no. He was going to, but… 

Well… 

“You know, Pansy, dear… A little vacation to the beach sounds lovely right now.” 

Surely, just this once, the world could keep spinning in the face of Draco Malfoy’s hope. 

[theartofimaginaryfriends]

Chapter 9 - Rules

Fic series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover)

Premise: Nova has a a nightmare and the teams are chosen.

Masterlist

taglist: @ilvermornymascot, @lukecastellandeservedbetter, @eva-blog-p

word count: 2,100

A/N: This break from the fic was longer than intended but I've been fixated on Hunters (Amazon Prime) and started a blog for it because there's barely any fanfiction for Hunters and that's a travesty. To make up for it being nearly a month since I last updated (I think?) I made the chapter way longer than normal, but I think I'm going to stick to chapters being around this length. Definitely reduces the amount of chapters I originally planned while keeping the timeline in check XD Hope you enjoy this very late installment!

Nightmares were a common occurrence for demigods, being nearly unavoidable. Some were stronger than others, leaving the demigod remembering every vivid detail when they woke up. Others were weaker, causing the demigod to wake up with a few details forgotten. Nova was unlucky, her latest nightmare leaving her confused in the morning.

The demigoddess stood in the corner of a dimly lit room, watching as a house-elf brought a letter over to their master, who was lounging on a plush leather couch. "Great. A letter from that wretched school. Now scram, I want dinner in an hour."

"Yes, mistress." The house-elf squeaked and scampered off.

Unable to help her curiosity, Nova moved closer to the girl and peered over her shoulder. The name addressed in the letter was blurry, but the contents spoke of the transfer program. The witch tossed it aside in annoyance and got up from her spot on the couch. Nova followed her as she stormed out of the home and into the adjacent forest.

Nova had to jog to follow her pace but stopped when the air chilled. It was dusk, but the sky darkened quicker than usual. The atmosphere changed to one that was all too familiar, and yet brand new at the same time. The demigoddess's breath shook as she couldn't contain her fear. "You've come back sooner than expected."

"That transfer program that has been rumoured is official," the girl said, clearly annoyed. "I can't just play nice and be chummy with all of them! This is complete rubbish."

"Listen, child," the voice said. It sounded like it was coming from all around them, and the voice belonged to no one in particular. Gaea was what immediately came to Nova's mind, but the voice was male. It was Ouranos, it had to be. "You said you wanted to fulfill your former Master's plans and kill that boy you keep talking about, didn’t you?"

"Yes."

"Seeing as you follow me now, you will abide by my rules," Ouranos commanded. "Go to this transfer program. Make friends with them or don't, it makes no difference to me. Follow the program, and update me monthly on what is going on. We cannot be hasty, patience is a must. When the time comes, you will help me regain my physical form, so I can destroy those wretched demigods and you can kill your enemy."

Nova watched the girl, knowing very well what Ouranos was doing. He made it seem like they were allies and working together when in reality, the Titan was in complete control. He was just going to kill her when he was done with her, and she didn’t stand a chance. "Thank you, Master Ouranos."

The sky lightened back to dusk, and the atmosphere changed back to normal. Nova found herself following the traitor back to the manor, but as she walked the scene began to melt away.

She couldn’t make sense of what she had just seen. The Sky Titan's voice was clear in her mind, but everything else was fuzzy when she woke up. Nova sat up, and placed her head in her hands, trying to process what had just happened. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Nova answered Payton, who had pulled back the curtains to sit on the edge of Nova's bed. Her arm was outstretched, holding Nova's water bottle out to her. "Thanks."

"Wanna talk about it?" Payton asked, a worried look in her eyes. Nova shook her head after taking a giant swig of water and took a deep breath.

"Not really, no," she sighed. "I'd rather process everything first."

"Maybe breakfast will help," she said.

"Ah, yes," Nova had a small amused smile on her face. "Eating. What a concept."

"Just get dressed so we can go," Payton laughed. After taking another minute trying to rack her brain for a clearer image of the nightmare, Nova got up and changed before grabbing a book and heading out.

The girls were silent as they made their way to The Great Hall, but the silence wasn't filled with as much tension as it had on the first night. While it was still heavy, Nova found herself feeling less apprehensive around her old enemy. Payton really did seem to want to be her friend, and even if last night's comment was a little odd, Nova knew in her heart that it was well-intended.

When they got to The Great Hall, the girls separated and Nova made a beeline for her usual group. She sat in between Cree and Percy, the table already in deep discussion about the teams being chosen tonight. She didn’t add much to the conversation, feeling drained. "Nova, is everything okay?"

"Nightmare," she shook her head, looking at Cree. "I'll be fine."

"What about?" Percy interjected, the group's attention shifting to The Head Girl.

"It was unclear, but I believe that one of the people in the dream was the traitor," she said. "I never saw their face, but they were talking to Ouranos. It felt more like I was in a Pensieve."

"Pensieve?"

"It stores memories," Harry explained. "Depending on the memory, it can feel like you're in a nightmare."

"And it felt like I was intruding on someone else's memory," Nova sighed. "But we shouldn't worry about that right now, there's still another eight hours for people to enter."

Nova took to people watching on the stairs again, paying more attention to the book in her hands than she was yesterday. "Didn’t realize this year would reopen old wounds."

"Neither did I," Nova said, turning to Harry. "How are you feeling?"

"Angry," he admitted. "But who isn’t?"

"You and Percy have the worst luck," she stated. "Once everything's calm, something else pops up."

"My scar hasn’t hurt, which is a bright side," Harry reached up and touched his forehead instinctively. "But it feels like it will any minute. As if I hadn’t actually killed him."

"Voldemort is dead, Harry," the witch reassured her friend. "We don’t have to worry about him."

"Just need to worry about something completely out of my range."

"Isn't that the point of this competition?" Nova chuckled darkly. "To ensure it won’t be?"

"Sound about right." Harry shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. The two of them ended up chatting for most of the day. Cree joined in later, stating that Nova's Head Girl duties have deprived him of time spent with her.

After dinner, the school settled into the balconies as if they were going through a sorting ceremony, waiting for the names to appear. Instead of Professor Tahamente making the speech, he left the floor to McGonagall. The woman managed to quiet the entire student body with one stern look, before beginning her speech. "In a moment, the fountain will reveal the teams. If your name is called, please make your way back into The Great Hall, and sit with your chosen partner. I will announce the names as they appear, and while this happens I expect there to be silence until the end."

The headmistress stepped back, and everyone watched as the fountain began to glow. The teams came up in four groups each time, and there were mixed reactions. "Harry Potter and Percy Jackson."

The two boys high fived, and happily descended down the stairs. No one was surprised at that pairing, many students finding it unfair. "Clarisse La Rue and Draco Malfoy."

Clarisse shoved past the Slytherin, making him stumble as he followed her. Draco didn't seem pleased either, his signature scowl on his face. "Jason Grace and Luna Lovegood."

A few classmates snickered, and Jason seemed a little worried. Luna was often in her own world, and to Jason, she didn’t seem like much of a fighter. "Leo Valdez and Hermione Granger."

Leo immediately tried to charm his new partner, and Hermione rolled her eyes at his attempt.  "Annabeth Chase and Seamus Finnigan."

The two walked in silence, Nova noticing the gears in Annabeth's head-turning. She never stops thinking about a strategy, even when she doesn't know the challenge at hand. "Hazel Levesque and Blaise Zabini."

Hazel glanced at her partner as they walked together, and Blaise was completely stone-faced. It was always hard to tell what he was thinking, but he had fought in the war against Voldemort with most of the Slytherins. "Nico di Angelo and Ginny Weasley."

Nova thought their dynamic would be interesting. Both were smart, but polar opposites as far as she was concerned. "Travis Stoll and Ronald Weasley."

It was almost like Ron was partnering up with one of his brothers, which screamed utter chaos. The next four teams came up quicker than the first two times, the air growing tenser as everyone anticipated who would be next. "Meg McCaffery and Neville Longbottom."

Everyone tried to hold back a snicker while watching Neville glance at the short and temperamental thirteen-year-old. Meg had given Neville a once over, before nodding once in approval and bounding down the stairs. "Piper McLean and Dean Thomas."

Dean smiled at Piper, and they started chatting in low voices. The demigoddess could tell they'd make a great team and smiled to herself. "Frank Zhang and Pansy Parkinson."

Murmurs started, and Frank was clearly nervous. He stopped at Nova and whispered to her. "Should I be worried?"

"A little bit, yeah," Nova told him. "I'm sure if you sit with Hazel it'll be fine. Blaise can keep Pansy in her lane."

"Thanks," Frank audibly gulped and made his way down to an annoyed Slytherin, who glared at the Praetor. McGonagall cleared her throat to tell the school to be quiet and continued.

"Kayla Knowles and Cree Fletcher."

Cree looked at Nova for guidance, and she assured him that Kayla would be a fantastic partner. Relieved, he left her side and met the archer a the bottom of the stairs. From where Nova stood, she could see that those two were already getting along, and it made her relax significantly. Cree was her best friend and if anyone would make sure he made it through this alive, she was glad Kayla was that person.

The rest of the teams were called out, and by the end of it, everyone was either bored or fidgety. "Would our Head Boy and Girl please join us in The Great Hall, as well as Will Solace. As for the rest of you, you may go to the lodges, and get ready for the campfire."

"Why are they asking for me?" Will asked as the three students made their way in.

"I'm guessing it's because they want the healers to be in the loop," Nova told him. "Chiron likely mentioned that you'd be an important asset."

Nova often aided the Apollo kids, and especially Will, when they needed an extra medic. The two of them had taught each other different healing techniques, and Nova supplied the camp with healing potions. It benefited them in the wars they fought within a year of each other.

"Congratulations to all of you that were chosen for the championship," Professor Tahamente smiled at the group. "There will be many trials and tribulations ahead of us, but please remember that this is about building teamwork and developing a bond that may assist us all in the future. Our first task at hand will take place on Saturday, November 21. In the Quad next week, we will set up stations for each of your teams to build a chariot together. Lucas and Nova will oversee it in shifts to ensure there is fair play. We will have Pukwudgie guarding the area during the night so that we can make sure there won’t be any sabotage.

"Will Solace will act as one of the healers on sight during the competition. The others will be Nurse Hawkins, Madame Pomphrey, and Nova Sterling. There will be no additions to the chariots that can potentially ruin another team's chariot during the race, and we will be checking for any extra charms on the chariots that could allow anyone to cheat. As for specific rules of the games, that will be revealed on game day. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Everyone chorused.

"If you have any questions in between now and the day of the competition, please don’t hesitate to ask," Tahamente smiled. He dismissed the group and stepped away from the podium. As soon as they all made it to the campfire, the teams were greeted by applause.

Some students basked in the attention, others seemed nervous. The only thing certain at the moment was that the dynamics were about to change.

[senlinyu]

Dramione- draco blackmails Hermione

“What do you want?”

Draco quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. “Want?”

She scowled at him and pulled an envelope out of her bag, throwing it venomously down on his desk. The force caused the flap to open, several pictures slid out.

They featured Granger’s extremely recognizable face involved in a scene that would, even conservatively, be termed an orgy.

She wasn’t engaged in anything illegal, but the very existence of the photos was career ruining in a culture as fastidiously conservative as the British Ministry of Magic.

Draco only glanced at them for a few moments before looking back up at her.

Her cheeks were stained scarlet as she glared at him. “I assumed this envelope was from you—given that you’re the only one who continues to see the need to interfere and try to destroy everything I do.” Her voice was shaking and slightly choked sounded. Her teeth were bared and she looked nearly feral. “So—obviously: you. What do you want?”

Draco leaned back and gave her a hard smile. “Now, now, Granger, think of how much weaker an opponent you’d be if I hadn’t been here all these years, going to all the trouble of bringing all your legislative loopholes and vulnerabilities to your attention.”

His smile grew razor-sharp and he laced his fingers together, resting his chin on the knuckles. “I must admit I was beginning to question whether I’d ever manage to knock you low enough to finally come crawling into my office. But even the Muggles know the higher the climb the longer the fall. It just goes to show that none of us are perfect, not even you.”

His eyes peeled away from her and he reached down to pick up one of the photos. He stared at it for several seconds while Granger seethed.

“Since we’re here, alone, I have to ask,” he finally said without looking away from the photo. “What on earth possessed you to do something this idiotic?” He glanced up at her. “You’ve had your eyes on the Minister’s seat since before you graduated. You had to have known this kind of—indulgence had the potential to destroy all your dreams in a manner both permanent and spectacular.”

He tsked and shook his head before flashing one of the photos at her. She immediately averted her eyes.

Granger’s cheeks were stained red but the rest of her face was steadily growing whiter and whiter.

Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before she swallowed visibly. “It wasn’t my idea,” she finally said in a strained voice.

Draco snorted. He was tempted to roll his eyes and assure her that that much abundantly obvious, but instead he waited to hear her try to explain it.

“It was—it was—” She actually looked as though she were on the verge of fainting in front of him. “He—he said I treated my job like it mattered more than our relationship. That I—always based my decisions on it, rather than him. It was—it was supposed to—“ her throat bobbed, “to spice things up. I didn’t know it was going to be—like that. He promised it was very discreet.”

Draco snorted again and glanced at the date on the back of the photo. “Anything Pucey knows about does not fall anywhere in the realm of discreet. You should have asked me,” he leered over the photo at her. “I could recommend several places that take the privacy of their clientele seriously—if this is your kind of thing.”

His eyes slid over her, and then flicked back to the photos on his desk.

Her chest was heaving sharply. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

He cocked his head slowly to the side, laying the photo down and tracing his fingertips lightly over it. “Come now, Granger, put that oversized brain of yours to work. What do you think I want?”

A decade earlier and she probably would have cried. Granger used to cry about things. When she was angry, or overwhelmed, or happy, or sad, she cried.

She appeared to have rooted out the habit at some point, although not—he noted, some of her other ones. Her fingernails had been bitten to the quick and she stared at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth.

“I won’t withdraw the bill,” she said after a moment. Her voice almost a whisper but nearly vibrating with determination. “I don’t care what you threaten to do with those. You can ruin me.”

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. “Gracious me, Granger, you still have all the subtlety of a beater bat. How exactly would forcing you to withdraw your beloved house-elf protections bill benefit me?”

“I don’t know.” She appeared to be shaking with rage. “How have any of your attempts to block my legislation benefited you? At this point I just assume you exist to try getting in my way.”

“I didn’t say a word in opposition to the WRA,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “It was legislatively flawless. I believe I even sent you a congratulatory note on your excellent work.”

She looked angry enough to spit.

Draco shrugged and gathered up the photos again, flipping through them slowly. He paused at one and stared at it for several seconds before turning it so she could see. “This is a lovely shot of you. You have better tits than I would have credited you with.”

She twitched and her jaw started trembling minutely. “Just—tell me what you want. You have infinitely more money than I do, unless you just want to ruin me financially. Do want me to remove my name as a sponsor of the bill? Are you expecting me to withdraw from politics altogether?” The trembling appeared to have spread from her jaw into the rest of her body, she was swaying like a broken tree branch. “Just tell me what it is, I’m sick of trying to guess what you’re doing.”

Draco looked down and slid the photos neatly back into the envelope. “As it happens, Granger…” he said her name slowly. “There are several things I’m interested in.”

She stared at him for a moment and then her eyes widened and she looked as though she were on the verge of screaming or bolting.

He chuckled under his breath and tapped the sharp corner of the envelope on his desk. “You do have a filthy mind, even if a sex club wasn’t to your—tastes. No, despite how surprisingly lovely your tits are, I’m didn’t send this because I wanted a turn as well.”

She didn’t relax in the slightest.

Draco leaned back and stared coolly across his desk at her. “I want you to add my name as one of the sponsors for your house-elf protections legislation, and I want you to include me on whatever your next campaign is. I want to be consulted, I want to be a co-sponsor. I want a seat at the highly exclusive little table of do-gooders, and you will be the one to get it for me and ensure that I stay there. And—“ he gave her a slow smile, “you’ll owe me favour, which I will call in someday whenever I happen to feel like it, and you will do it whatever it is I that I ask.”

He straightened as he watched her reaction carefully. “In exchange, I will ensure that these photos never again see the light of day.”

Granger stood frozen for several seconds. Her expression was masked but there was confusion behind the obvious strain in her eyes.

“I won’t do anything illegal,” she said in a tight voice.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It will be an entirely legal favour.”

“Fine,” she finally said in a voice that only had a hint of tremour underlying it. “I want a blood oath.”

When it was done, Granger gripped the vial in her hands as she backed away from him towards the door.

Draco stepped back over to his desk and caught up the envelope, flashing her a final grin. “Did you want these as a keepsake?”

She shot him a look of pure loathing as she disappeared through the door.

The smile dropped from his face the instant she was gone. Draco slid the envelope into his robes, withdrew his wand, and cast a quick disillusionment on himself before stepping out of his office. He moved slowly in order to make as little a visual disturbance as possible.

At the first hallway, he turned and walked quietly down it until he stood outside an innocuous, and difficult to notice broom closet.

He pressed his ear to the door and listened to rapid, hyperventilating sobs for a few seconds before stepping back and pulling the envelope out of his pocket. He slid a photo up just enough to verify the date on the back once more.

Just days before her very public breakup with Adrian Pucey.

He tapped the envelope against his fingers for a moment before heading up towards the Ministry floo.

——

“Zabini.”

Blaise cracked an eye open and found Malfoy staring down at him with an icy expression on his face.

He blinked, pushed off the naked witch draped over him, and sat up. He hadn’t seen Malfoy in years and hadn’t expected to wake and find him in his bedroom.

“Why the fuck are you blackmailing Granger?”

Blaise rubbed his eyes and gave the pretentious wanker a droll smirk. “Easy target. Easy money. Mother’s training.” He shrugged as he stood up. “How did you find out?”

Malfoy’s lip curled. “She assumed this was from me. Did it not occur to you she’d have trouble paying you off if she didn’t even know who sent them.”

Blaise yawned and pulled on a robe. “I fancied leaving her to stew and panic about how bad it’d be before moving in for the kill. She must be frantic if she went straight to you. It’s convenient you came by, you deal with her all the time. How much would you say she’s worth?”

He eyed Malfoy while he stretched his shoulders. “I’m thinking installments rather than a lump sum. She’ll probably be good for a few years at least.” His pulled a velvet chord on the wall to call for a late breakfast and coffee. “I couldn’t believe my luck when Pucey brought her through the door. I think she must have sedated herself, she went with it for less than an hour, then panicked and bolted.” He nodded towards the envelope in Malfoy’s hand. “Stayed long enough though.”

Malfoy was staring at him expressionless. “I want to buy all of them.”

Blaise froze as he stared at his old schoolmate.

Malfoy was politically weaker than Granger, but financially he was a larger fish by several orders of magnitude.

Blaise hadn’t considered seeking out a third party for the photos. Granger was beloved by nearly all, with the very notable exception of Malfoy, who had an inexplicable vested interest in attempting to subvert or fuck her over with any political machinations he could scheme up.

He grinned at Malfoy. “How much is finally ruining her worth to you?”

It turned out, it was worth more than three times Blaise’s annual income.

Malfoy held the cheque lazily between his thumb and index finger and stared at Blaise with glittering eyes. “This sum is conditional, Zabini. I want a list of everyone there that night.”

Blaise started to open his mouth and deny keeping records, but Malfoy leveled him with a cold glare. “I’m certain you have one. The last thing I need is to have her claiming it was polyjuice, I want to know exactly who the corroborating—participants are.”

Blaise shrugged and retrieved it from his logbook. As he held out the list of names and extended his hand for the cheque. Malfoy held it back.

“I also want an Unbreakable Vow. I don’t want to worry someone that else is going to fuck up my chess pieces once I have them in place. I want a Vow from you that I have all the photographs and any other evidence, and that all the particulars of this little business arrangement will die with you.”

Blaise’s throat tightened as he noticed the burning intensity in Malfoy’s eyes. The man was deranged in his vendetta against Granger. Then he looked at the figure on the cheque.

“Fine.”

————

Draco stopped at Gringotts in the evening after a day’s work. He sat silently beside the goblin as the cart raced into the depths of the bank, beyond the Malfoy family vault, to a smaller private vault.

Draco unlocked the door, stepped inside, and closed it with the attending goblin waiting outside.

He pulled the file with all of Blaise’s pictures out of his robes, along with the envelope that Granger had brought him.

His jaw tensed as he stared at them. His hands shook slightly and the photos abruptly burst into flames.

He dropped them on the ground.

He walked over to all the boxes of mind-bogglingly detailed analysis of several hundred legislative documents. He dragged a finger along them as he wandered through to the far wall.

A small postcard was pinned to the wall.

“Men of sense often learn from their enemies. It is from their foes, not their friends, that cities learn the lesson of building high walls and ships of war.”

He stared at it for several seconds and then sighed and turned around. The room was burning, the fire consuming the photos had spread to the boxes.

He watched the fire.

Feuding with Granger legislatively had honed her into a lethal political weapon far more rapidly than any advisor could have hoped to.

Advise Granger about weaknesses as a friend and she had a habit of dismissing it and assuming the best about others; come at her as an opponent and she‘d strategize, strengthen her position, and then coldly outmaneuver them.

Draco had thought she was nearly untouchable until that morning. He ground his teeth together. Her personal life would be the one area that she’d remain vulnerable.

Obliviating Pucey had been by far the most satisfying aspect of the day. Draco had thought he wasn’t a killer, but he very seriously reconsidered it when he’d had a wand leveled at Pucey’s face.

Draco walked slowly around the burning boxes towards the door of the vault.

He paused by the door and stared at a newspaper clipping on the wall.

It had faded after nearly a decade.

1998. Granger was standing in the witness stand, testifying on Draco’s behalf during the post-war trial. If Draco had been found guilty, he’d be up for release in three weeks.

Hermione Granger Wants To Save The World.

He stared at the picture and nearly reached out and touched it.

Becoming her political rival has been accidental. She’d gone straight to the Ministry after school and begun her magical rights campaign with righteous fury and no training. Her team had been equally oblivious to political pitfalls.

Draco had not been, but no one listened to him.

So—he wrote an editorial pointing out all the potential risks of Granger’s legislation until she withdrew and reworked it. Draco kept publicly harassing her until it was ironclad.

It became a bizarre type of political chess. He unapologetically hounded her over her political vulnerabilities and she rapidly learned to protect herself, and spot her own legislative weaknesses without him.

Draco was tired of feuding with her.

He hadn’t considered that she’d see their rivalry as personal or malicious until she appeared his office. He considered there to be a vast difference between being politically at odds with someone and actually wanting to ruin their life.

Not for Granger. For her everything she did was morally rooted.

He sighed as he pulled the vault door open and stepped out.

Someday—he should probably admit he’d fallen for her.

[kawaiijellymonster]

So I’ve got a note in my notes app called “Fanfic lines that should be in a hall of fame” and it’s gotten pretty long so I figure I’ll toss it on here so yall can enjoy it, most of them are: mha, zukka, miraculous ladybug, harry potter, and I think one is from a comment on a hannibal amv, But here you go:

Stain sold papers because he just had an aura about him that drew people in, like people who slow down to look at car crashes.

“The Rumor Come Out: Does Todoroki Shoto is Gay?”

Izuku spent the next week going to his normal martial arts classes, studying, and drinking gallons of coffee. Not healthy but he could deal with it. His body was never meant to be permanent.

So no one was watching when Mei placed her forehead against his, breath fanning across his face as she spoke. "Wake up Loki… the world needs you."

“No probs ‘lil listener!” Hizashi said, striking a dramatic pose. “I’ll be your DJ all through the night, bringin’ you such rockin’ hits as safety, security and sweet dreams!”

“This is stupid! Screw the waiting and screw these stupid butterflies. They're not paying rent, the little shits--”

Experimenting with unstable genetic mutant abominations is more of an art than a science, really."

Several looks pass across both their faces. “No flying for a month,” Sirius declares. That sucks, actually. But he’s also a hundred percent certain he can get them to cave on that in two weeks tops. “Okay. Is that for the breaking into the Ministry, destroying the Department of Mysteries, making a bargain with Voldemort, or bringing all my friends with me?” “It’s for recklessly endangering your own life again,” Remus says, “and while the punishment very much doesn’t fit the crime, we’re a bit at a loss for what else to do.” “It wasn’t reckless!” he protests. “We had a plan and everything, and we even brought an adult! An adult Order member! Also what else were we supposed to do, let Snape die?” Sirius takes a deep breath, but Remus steps on his foot before he can put it in his mouth. “Which is why you’re only getting flying privileges taken away and not thrown in a cell in Azkaban for our sanity and your safety.” As if any cell could hold him. “I accept your terms.”

“Who’s Theophania?” Sirius asks. Harry hesitates. Perhaps bringing her up was his smartest decision, strategically speaking. “If I tell you you’re not allowed to throw me in Azkaban. Or ground me.” “This isn’t a negotiation,” Sirius repeats. If Blaise has taught him anything, it’s that everything is a negotiation. “She’s a friend.” “And?” Sirius repeats. Remus suddenly grabs onto Sirius’s shoulder, “Wait. Petrifying - during your second year - is Theophania - she’s not the basilisk.” “No, they killed it,” Sirius says automatically. Harry remains silent. “Harry!” He rubs his nose. “It turns out I’m not that good at killing things. Unkilling things, however? My specialty.”

“It’s okay,” Nanaia says, “you don’t know. What do you do when you don’t know something?” “Try something you do know and hope it doesn’t make everything worse?” For some reason, Horace looks sad at that answer, and Dumbledore shifts from one foot to the other. “No,” she says, “you ask for help.” Oh.

“It’ll piss off your son,” he answers bluntly. “Fuck that kid,” Riddle Sr. says

“You played me!” “Like a cheap kazoo”

Batman sighed, before speaking in a voice that was so unlike his usual growl that most of the other League members almost fell out of their chairs. Diana and Clark seemed to be used to it. “Damian,” he started. His voice was still deep, but a regular-deep, instead of I-just-swallowed-six-buckets-of-gravel deep.

“She loved James too,” she assures, and the confidence she says that with allows him to breathe, like someone has let go of his lungs. “It is possible to love more than one person at the same time. She loved your father with the type of love that’s – that was like a shooting star, burning and bright and touching everyone around them. Her love for Severus was different, and in the end it wasn’t the type of love either of them could handle.”

You’re better at it now then many people are after leaving a full apprenticeship, and you’ve only had a year of lessons a couple of times a week instead of years of intensive study. Do you know why that is?” “Luck?” he offers weakly. For some reason, he doesn’t like the direction this is going in. “No,” she says. “To be good at healing, the way you are, the way I am, you need a certain combination of things. Intelligence, power, control, but more than that. Stubbornness, a tricky balance of flexibility and inflexibility, and a constant, brutal assessment over your own skills. And something else.” “A propensity towards poor life choices?” he suggests. Poppy shakes her head, not taking the bait. “No. You have to care. You have to care about everyone, even people you dislike, and you have to care so much that if feels like it’s killing you, you have to care and that care has to hurt, until the only thing that hurts worse than caring is not caring. To be good at this, you have to let it hurt you.”

“You two shouldn’t have bothered dressing formally for Albus, he’s a bitch.” Harry doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, but he’s loving it.  

“It was on the syllabus,” Zuko whispered conspiratorially to his mother. Sokka gasped. “You know I don’t read those!” “This is your own fault then.” “I like to be surprised. The procrastination keeps me humble.”

sometimes you remind me of the stars youre gorgeous and happy and can always brighten me on the darkest days and even when youre dampened you can guide me home

“imagine you are the only person who loves to play chess more than anything but nobody else in the world has ever heard about chess. and then you see a person holding a chessboard. it’s like your whole world was reborn”

"I wanted to be a stripper in middle school," Izuku said. Yup, that's a good cover.

What you’re asking for isn’t fair or right. You can’t ask a person for more than they’re willing to give

In Mei’s words, “You have about five minutes of ‘fuck that one thing in particular.’ Make them count.”

“Mei, let me introduce your new best friend. This is Momo. She has a Quirk that lets her make anything as long as she knows its composition inside and out. All you have to do is buy her dinner,“ Izuku said,

The cameras were looped. The bots were hacked. It was a good day to be a villain.

“None. The alarm never left the building.” “Really? Why is that?” “Mei finished first and decided to do you a favor. However, you've got the fire alarm just starting to go off and that's on a different circuit. Take a fast way down.” “Understood,” Hitoshi drawled. A moment later he was looking back at the crew. “Ladies and Frenchman. We take the express.”

Quinn is talking like that actually answers his question when it really, really doesn’t. “If you don’t start making sense, I’ll cry.”

“You’re one of my best students,” ze says. “You should understand the importance of timing. Speaking of, you’re late for your next class.”

Fuck, he totally is. “Thank you for that very confusing answer. I’ll think of you while crying myself to sleep.”

He’d wondered if that was what bravery was, to be quiet even when you were hurting so much you wanted to scream.

maybe bravery was also running screaming at the thing that nearly killed you, to keep it from killing someone else.

“Apologies are not difficult. Good apologies revolve around three basic points. One, I acknowledge what I did was wrong. Two, I regret that you were harmed. Three, this is how I plan to make sure it does not happen again. That’s all. Apologies are easy.” Then she’d glanced at them all again, evaluating. “And if you become very, very good at your job... they will be the absolute hardest thing you ever do.”

“Even though we’re a bunch of migraine-inducing hellions who are smart enough to know when something is a bad idea and stupid enough to still do it?”

“You’re like the nice china that Al only brings out for Christmas. Except Bruce just realised that I stole it, and chipped it. Maybe it’s time I give it back before I shatter all the pieces.”

she won’t co-parent my perfectly reasonable and well-behaved children.” Clark snorts. “Damian’s trying to stab Tim, right now.”

"Oh, my knight in shining armour. What would I do without you?" the teen droned, placing a dramatic hand on her head. 

"I think you mean 'knight in shining leather', M'Lady. And without me, you would be left alone in this kingdom of lies.”

"It's a kingdom, alright. It'll topple sooner or later." "That's the spirit!" Adrien laughed.

Here’s something that a harbinger of tragedy would never find the courage to admit: there are moments in between the bitter self-hatred and the visceral, tangible consequences of your sins in which you almost think you’re worthy of forgiveness; of second chances; of a life beyond your greatest regrets. It’s a unique brand of pain,

“Go directly to horny jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.”

“You can’t wait around for him to be sorry,” Izuku says. He’s quiet now. This isn’t something that’s meant to be shouted. “Maybe he’ll never be sorry. Maybe he doesn’t know he did anything wrong, or he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter.” Cautiously he takes a step forward. “You can’t depend on the people who hurt you to be the ones to make it better, or it’s never going to get better. They’ll only disappoint you, or hurt you even worse, and then they’ll be gone and you’ll be waiting forever.”

Midoriya may be strong as hell, but that just means looking out for him has to be a team effort.

How would his new adoring fans react if they knew he raised a villain? He's no All-Might. His pillar's made of toothpicks, and it's not gonna take much to crack it.”

Tensei approaches Rei, “Okay, this plan is childish, unprofessional, and a discourtesy to this school's reputation. That being said, when do we nail the little twat?

Hinata is dead. Deceased. Passed away, laid to rest with a headstone that reads Here Lies Hinata Shouyou, Killed By A Wink And A Blown Kiss.

It’s dangerous to be a bad father when you have life insurance

[adusart]

yay more akin and failon stuff! how many aus do they have?

Ah! Yes, always more Failon and Akin stuff, my head is full of them.

I already answered a similar question here, though I really need to go through my art and tag things more consistently. But in general, there is a few that have been on my mind and few that are on the back burner but I do plan to draw some content for them.

This may get long so I will do a cut just in case anyone finds it annoying :D

LST - is the original story, I answered some tags about it so if you want to find out more I recommend just searching for “ask”

Harry Potter AU - yes I am a Potterhead and I am obsessed, also there is multiple AUs for Harry Potter or with Harry Potter characters, the first-ever Harry Potter AU for me was just about life in Hogwarts - Failon and Akin being kind of rivals since Failon is definitely a Slytherin and Akin is a Ravenclaw (:’)) so this would be just years 11-17 for them very soft fluffy teenagers enemies - to friends and a bit more maybe :D

Harry Potter AU post-Hogwarts - this is the one that focuses on other Harry Potter characters - mainly Terence Higgs and Adrian Pucey (with some minor Flintwood in the background) and ofc Akin and Failon, it’s not really a continuation of the first AU since the timeline is a little different, but basically everything from Harry Potter happened and this is just how their lives are 4-5 years after the Battle of Hogwarts and it focuses on relationship drama :D

Voldemort AU - the AU I am currently most invested in and it takes place in a world where Voldemort won the battle of Hogwarts and Harry died destroying himself and the Horcrux inside him, it takes place 3-4 years after the Battle of Hogwarts and focuses on the struggle and survival, there are also other Harry Potter characters and relationships with those characters, I posted some Percy Weasle/Akin art because yep, that happened :D but yeah, this one has a lot of lore because I have been writing it almost every day for the last year and a half with @lepetitcomte on discord akjaslkf and it’s so much fun and so. much. angst. ugh I cry for my bois

Similar to these AUs (because we like to take characters we like and put them in different worlds -sigh- I know :D) there is the Forest Selkie/ Fae AU I know Selkies are seals and they are sea spirits, but I really liked the “I steal your hide so now you’re human” but put a twist on it -drum roll- it’s with long hair, because I wanted an excuse to draw my boys with long hair and if it’s cut they can no longer transform into their original animal/fae form. I did art for it you can find it here and here and here though the last one didn’t show up in the AU tag, tumblr is testing me today, sorry :D.

Then there is Fairytale AU which changes based on moods, but we had Rapunzel AU (Percy and Akin), Little Red Riding Hood (with Failon and Terence), and now we have Little Mermaid with all of the bois and some interesting dynamics :)c

Mythology AU - for which I made a really nsfw drawing so I only posted a cropped version here. Basically Failon is Thanatos the God or personification of Death, Percy is Phthonus god of Jealousy, Terence is Medusa and Akin is a Siren, Adrian is actually a human and recently we added a pirate captain Blaise Zabini :D because why not. And it focuses on smut and some drama because it’s the mythology AU and I am a perv.

Centaur and Merman AU - self-explanatory, Akin is a merman and Failon is a centaur and they are friends/romantically involved though some magic is involved for them to take a human form in order to you know woohoo :D

Cyberpunk AU - Failon is a cyborg detective and Akin is an android and they get tangled up in a government plot in which Akin is like a sleeper agent/assassin without having control but develops conscience and emotions over time, and Failon is a failed government experiment who ran off to fight against the corrupt parts of it and stumbles on Akin and decides to take care of him

And then I have AUs which I have not made art/content for which are - Artist and thief AU - Akin is an artist, Failon is in love with him and proceeds to flirt by stealing his art from his exhibitions :D how romantic

The Mafia AU - Failon is a big bad boss and Akin is an assassin sent to kill him OR Akin is the boss and Failon is his bodyguard because I am like that :D

The prehistoric AU - I have done a little research but still need to flesh it out but I am thinking about it, though maybe not like prehistoric but tribal AU or Horizon Zero Dawn kind of AU, I haven’t decided yet :D

Apocalypse AU sounds good too - Failon and Akin as survivors exploring empty cities or sneaking through zombie-infested areas, I like the loneliness of it but hopefulness as they survive and navigate the obstacles.

The Witcher AU - if you know me you know I am a slut for some Witcher so yes, Akin for me is a mix of Ciri and Renfri storylines, Failon is definitely a Witcher though maybe from a different school than the Wolf... I think The School of The Cat suits him a lot.

There might be some shower thoughts AUs I missed but hopefully, this explains everything a little bit. If you want more info feel free to ask me about specific AU I love talking about my bois or @lepetitcomte‘s bois :D they have been my obsession for the last year and a half so I have a lot of things in my brain :D

Thank you for the ask and I hope you have a nice day! 

[professordrarry]

Blaise x Ron. Bicycle. 😏

Oh, my love. I don’t know what you were expecting when you sent me these three words, but I promise you, it was not this ABSOLUTE LITERARY MASTERPIECE. Enjoy, and then google “Adult sized radio flyers”. You are welcome. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Ron said, rushing around a corner, faced flush and panting. “I think I lent Hermione the car this weekend to pick up the kids and I can’t take the tube since… The Incident.”

“You think you lent her the car?” Blaise replied, making sure his expertly arched eyebrow highlighted his dripping sarcasm perfectly.

He was trying his best not to feel relief every time Ron actually showed up again, ready to work with him and be an Auror who didn’t judge him based on his surname. He usually failed.

“I mean, I assume she has it,” Ron smirked. “Otherwise, it’s been stolen and someone should call the Aurors! Oh, wait…”

He laughed at his own terrible joke, then winked, strolling up to the edge of the barrier and looking around with a keen eye.

As usual, Blaise’s stomach fell to his knees. Winks were cruel. Ignoring the sensation, he turned back to the scene. It was nothing intense, but he’d put up the magical barriers anyway. The Ministry was funny about Murtlap. If you were foolish enough to ask anyone why, they’d go off on an angry tale about the 1920s, a Muggle, and Americans. Moreover, if you stood there long enough, you were more than likely to end up with the job of reporting on the Murtlap population in England that spring. One creature on the loose hardly required two teams of the upper officers, but it was honestly just safer to show up at the scene.

Blaise was actually annoyed at Ron this time. He’d already processed the scene, repaired the broken glass, and dealt with the mouldy old Muggle lady who was in charge of the shop that had been destroyed. It had taken him twenty minutes to clean it up with his wand and then Confund her. Plus, the damned creature was gone again.

He was silently fuming as Ron walked around, looking for unknown details and ignoring Blaise’s murmured pleas to not disturb anything else before the forensics team arrived.

“Get this spot already?” Ron asked, kicking it with his toe.

“Yes.”

“What about the hair by the—”

Blaise interjected. “Ron, I’ve already done my job. And your fucking job, too, for that matter.”

Ron smirked, still looking at the ground. “Relax, panty twist,” he teased. “I already apologised. And I have pastries in the basket of my bike. If I also promise to do the paperwork, can I be forgiven?”

Blaise refused the smile that wanted to reply to Ron’s smirk and turned away, adding rancour to his tone when he said, “It will be a start.”

He walked away to make his point; when Ron caught up to him with his long stride, though, he chose not to hold his breath. Ron always smelt of sugar, or possibly honey. Blaise knew it was because he’d been baking too much since the divorce, but since he always profited from this late night stress reliever in the form of fancy scones or biscuits, Blaise chose to believe the hobby was positive.

Plus, he got to work beside the sweetness instead of the many other odours crime scenes offered. Sometimes, though, he did wonder if he was mostly in love with the smell of pastries, and not the insufferable ginger. It didn’t really matter, because it didn’t make it less true that he was definitely—embarrassingly, painfully—in love.

Sighing inwardly, he asked why Ron hadn’t just Apparated here; in all honesty, Blaise knew the answer. Ron hated Apparating, and his house was just around the corner. It was irrational, but Blaise suspected the beautiful, faint spiral on his right shoulder had everything to do with it; pain had a very long memory, and Blaise had never been splinched. Ron just shrugged and gestured to where his bike must be.

Blaise burst out laughing at the vehicle Ron was walking up to, even as he pulled a tub from the basket in the front.

“What?” Ron asked, immediately defensive. Which was wise, since Blaise was quick to mock and slow to let things go.

“Hate to break it to you mate,” Blaise grinned, flicking the little red handle derisively, “but this is not a bicycle.”

“Haha,” Ron deadpanned. “I know it’s really old and not that flash but it gets me where I need to go.”

“No, I mean, it’s not at all a bicycle,” Blaise insisted. “It has three wheels, Ron. You’re best mate is bi. You know what the word means. That is absolutely, definitively, by definition, a Tricycle. And not even a dorky adult one, at that.” 

The longer he looked at it, the harder he laughed. The words Radio Flyer were spray painted in white on the side, and there were bright red streamers attached to the handles. The basket on the front was wire, and stuffed into it was Ron’s kit of supplies. 

“Weasley, where in fuck’s name did you get this thing?” Blaise said through continued peals of laughter.

Ron had gone bright red, but it was his Angry Red, not his Embarrassed Red—which was actually more of a shiraz colour and filled Blaise with glee whenever it appeared. He could, if he wanted to, spend time analysing how ridiculous it was that he had catalogued the blushes of his coworker. He didn’t, of course. That was a dangerous path.

“My dad charmed it for me. I needed a bike. It was in his shed. He assured me it was a regular, run-of-the-mill Muggle thing,” Ron replied through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, well it is,” Blaise giggled. “When you’re three.”

“I’m going to kill him. No wonder he had to make it so big.”

“Yes, well. You are six-foot some-odd,” Blaise agreed with a nod. He took a deep breath and let his voice go quieter. “It’s kind of cool, I guess? In a weird…not at all cool way?”

“Six-four,” Ron growled. “In other words, tall enough to kick your bloody teeth in, you idiot.”

Blaise laughed again and let go of the handles and dropped his glee at the same time. Ron was close to defensive, and that was significantly less fun than mad.

“Right then,” he said conclusively. “Give us a ride back to the office on your fancy wheels, Auror Weasely.”

“What?” Ron replied tersely, holding onto his mad face though the flush was already subsiding and Blaise knew that he was really just mad at his dad for making him the fool.

“What? You don’t know about the best part of a tricycle. Look.” Blaise stood on the back of the oversized trike, making use of the built-in steps. “It comes with a built-in passenger seat!”

Blaise teased, gesturing to the seat. “I promise to stop laughing at you if you can get me back to your flat alive so we can Floo from there.” 

Ron scrubbed the back of his neck and looked uncomfortable for a minute. Blaise was puzzled. Discomfort was not an expression he was used to seeing. Blatantly angry, yes. Or else incredulous or proud, arrogant or gleeful. But never discomfort.

“Er, where do you hold on?” Ron asked gruffly.

Blaise shrugged. “Usually the driver’s shoulders. Come on, we’ll be late and Draco will have our hides.” 

Ron, looking resigned, reached back into the basket and pulled out a black helmet that would have been more suited to something with a motor.

“Don’t you dare fucking start again,” he grimaced. “I will not risk my skull for something as stupid as a bicycle after surviving a war.”

“Wise,” Blaise choked.

He couldn’t laugh. Not even a little bit. As Ron jammed it on his head, Blaise bit his tongue. Every well-intentioned insult he’d been about to hurl disappeared at the sight of Ronald Weasely, in a tight black henley, the jeans of a man on a day off, and a black motorbike helmet. The image, of course, could have been ruined by that same man clamouring aboard a red, adult-sized Radio Flyer. Instead, he settled back until his strong back muscles brushed up against the back of Blaise’s thighs and he gripped the handles firmly.

“Hold on, Zabini,” he said gruffly.

Of course, peddling riding a motorbike. It wasn’t like the many times Blaise had gripped his thighs to a man hurling him around corners as an engine rumbled beneath him majestically. This? This was anything but majestic. But it was fucking adorable. Plus, he was absolutely touching Ron, which was on a long list of things he’d told himself he Could Not Do since the divorce and therefore felt very dangerous. Blaise, not being his mother, had found it pretty easy to hide his attraction when Ron had been Husband and Father. It had been getting harder and harder over the past year.

The ride was only five minutes. The wind kicked up as they hit an incline. People on the busy side street turned to look a second time when two, significantly-sized adult men rode a giant tricycle past them. Uphill and in the wind, Blaise found his arms wrapped tightly around Ron’s chest and shoulders, leaning on his back and firmly pressing in with his thighs. He was also thinking about the position way, way too much. But Ron never slowed or faltered in his peddling, like Blaise’s five-eleven frame was nothing more than pastries in a basket.

Ron pulled up to his building and stopped suddenly outside his garden, leaping off the seat and hurtling himself toward the front door. Alarmed, Blaise followed quickly and silently; it was usually worthwhile to follow the lead of his partner. Ron was incredibly perceptive, an extremely good judge of character, and pretty decent at seeing things from much further away than made sense.

Once up the steps, Ron whispered a word and the door popped open. He flung himself inside and Blaise quickly followed with his wand drawn and ready to cast.

“What is it? Direction,” Blaise barked, full Auror voice returning him from his dizzy, aroused fantasy world on the back of the trike.

“Nothing,” Ron replied in a voice Blaise had never heard before. “There’s nothing. I just—”

He cut himself off and reached out to take Blaise’s wand from him. He relinquished it easily as he noted that Ron’s face had also changed; there was grim determination behind it that looked nothing like his work self. He dropped Blaise’s wand carelessly and took the helmet off in one smooth motion.

“I just wanted to get up here and behind that door quickly,��� Ron continued. “Before I lost my nerve.”

He backed Blaise up until he hit the wall of the entryway. A knee pinned him there, hands on either side of Blaise’s head. “I think we’ve been tiptoeing around this for a bit too long, and I’m not exactly a coward. Neither are you, Mr send-backup-but-also-I’m-already-through-the-door.”

“That was one time and you—”

But Blaise didn’t get to finish, because he was busy kissing Ron. The shift had been subtle, slow. There was no reason to be attracted to this fool, all full of Gryffindor fluff and utterly pointless courage. Blaise found him suffocating and claustrophobic, cloying and contradictory. He had been fighting with himself to move on, remove his attraction. There was no reason for the heat in his stomach when Ron spoke to a victim. Nothing menacing about the extra nearly-half-foot Ron had on him. He was a giant kitten, full of blushes and glowers that went nowhere.

But god damn if he wasn’t also an absolutely brilliant kisser.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake,” Ron muttered, pulling back. “You followed me to a secondary location, into my home. I took you on my unmarked vehicle by offering you a ride. That’s victimology 101.”

“Oh dear,” Blaise growled, pulling Ron back by the hair at the base of his neck, placing his lips on the rather sharp jawline and smirking. “I’ll certainly be regretting my naïveté later when you have me…tied up.”

The growl was audible, even though the rush of blood in his ears.

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 23

So

I may or may not have forgotten to do this. And then had to do like three essays...

xoxoxo

"Sorry about that again..." I apologized to Tsu, holding a small flame in front of her.

She harrumphed jokingly and leaned a bit more into Uraraka's chest, her arms crossed. She was using Uraraka's new sport uniform jacket like a makeshift blanket. "You're such a hypocrite, Midoriya. You yell at Todoroki for freezing up the audience, then you go just as cold as him when you fight him, kero."

"Sorry, I was hoping Blaise and Pyra working together would be enough to keep everyone from getting cold..."

"Hey," a lazy voice drawled. I turned my head to see a basic fire elemental suddenly sitting on the railing in front of me. His hair and clothes were mostly black with a few orange stripes. He had black cat ears, a black cat tail, and catlike orange eyes with yellow sclera. "I helped too, ya know."

"Oh hi, Charlie!" Uraraka said.

"Who the fuck are you?" Kacchan asked him.

"That's Aizawa-sensei's fire elemental," I said.

"And I'll have you know I helped out," Charlie grumbled.

"Only because you were forced to, niichan," another voice said. A girl with sky-blue hair in a sort of bowl cut that covered her eyes appeared in midair. Upside-down. She had very pale, actually outright just white skin and two weird red horns that formed a sort of deformed heart shape when seen from the side. She had a simple white dress, almost exactly the same color as her skin.

Tsu waved at her. "Hey, Cass. Kero."

"Hey, Tsu-chan," Cassiopeia, Aizawa-sensei's gravity elemental, said. "Are you and my aunt finally dating yet?" Tsu and Uraraka both spluttered, now blushing. "Iiii'll take that as a no, then." She smirked, and with a momentary glow of her horns Tsu's head was suddenly shoved into Uraraka's chest by an unseen force that was probably gravity. "C'mon, you guys've obviously noticed the attraction between you two~"

"Th-that's because you're literally making Tsu-chan gravitate towards me!" Uraraka shouted, blushing heavily. Tsu said something that was probably agreeing with Uraraka, but it was muffled so I couldn't tell for sure.

"I have no idea what you're talking about~" Cass taunted. She cheekily stuck out her tongue.

Even though I wasn't the direct target of it, I could feel Aizawa-sensei's glare from all the way over in the announcer's box. Was that what Enji felt when I used Fear on him?

Good.

Tsu and Uraraka stopped being attracted to each other. By gravity, at least. "H-hey, look at the time!" Cass said. "G-gotta go!"

"That girl..." Tsu muttered, still blushing heavily.

"Tsu do you need me to heal you?" I asked. "Your nose is bleeding a little."

She felt her nose. "Oh. Yeah please do that, kero. Sorry, sometimes my nose bleeds a little easy." I placed my hand on her face and cast Healing Hands.

"Do I have to beat up a child?" Kacchan offered.

"D-don't worry about Cass," Uraraka said. "She doesn't do stuff anything as bad as that a lot, and she always apologizes later after Shō gives her a lecture."

"And this is the first time she drew blood, kero," Tsu commented.

"I feel kinda bad for Aizawa-sensei," I said. "Some of my elementals are, no offense, a little hard to manage..."

"Hey!" Rayne shouted.

"...but at least my other elementals help keep them grounded." Blaise put Rayne in a headlock despite the fact that they were both immaterial. "Aizawa-sensei, on the other hand, only has those two."

"Yeah, lazy elementals are annoying to deal with," Kacchan said. I looked at him. "I am assuming," he added suspiciously quickly.

"Alright, then," I said. "Hey, shouldn't you be heading for the waiting room, Kacchan?"

He shrugged. "I trust Birdface and Sparkles-"

"Tokoyami and Aoyama."

"-Birdface and Sparkles to give each other a good fight. Unfortunately I won't be able to watch their fight, directly anyway, but at least I can watch Glasses'."

"His name is Iida, problem child," Aizawa-sensei said over the speaker.

"Thaaaat's right folks!" Mic-sensei shouted. "It's Iida Tenya! Versus! Shiozaki Ibara! Who will win, technology or nature? Let's find out!"

"Start!" Midnight-sensei announced.

And then it was over. Iida was really fast.

"Damn, that was quick," Kacchan said disappointedly.

"That's what she said," Tsu muttered.

"I'll kill you, Frog," Kacchan threatened flatly.

"That's also what she said," I joked.

Kacchan twitched. "That one doesn't even make sense!"

"Maybe you should go now?" Uraraka suggested. "Iida's fight's over."

He sighed. "Fine, just tell me what happens in... Tokoyama and Aoyami's fight?" He glared at what appeared to be thin air. "Did I fucking ask, Pyra!?" Kacchan grunted and stomped off, grumbling about fires and... leaves for some reason?

A few minutes after Kacchan left, Tokoyami and Aoyama walked onto the arena. "Get ready!" Midnight-sensei said after Aizawa-sensei and Mic-sensei said their part. At her command, motes of dark magic started to emanate from Tokoyami. At the same time, Aoyama started to sparkle with light magic. It occurred to me that Tokoyami and Aoyama were both, in their own ways, among the most showy people in our class...

"I wonder which one of us shall win?," Tokoyami remarked. "Your holy light, or my curséd shadow?"

"Hey!" Dark Shadow protested. "I have feelings too!"

"Shall we see, mon ami?" Aoyama replied. "But do keep in mind that I won't go easy on you!"

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

"Start!"

Aoyama shot first, all of his sparkles turning to lasers at once. It seemed that Tokoyami anticipated that, because just before the lasers hit him a shroud of darkness spread out in front of him. Dark Shadow shot out from behind the shroud, slightly enhanced by spending a few moments in darkness, but was blown back easily by Aoyama using a sparkling light bomb. Aoyama tried to hit Dark Shadow with a few more lasers, but was thwarted by Tokoyami shooting them with bolts of darkness. Dark Shadow lashed out at Aoyama again, but he dodged out of the way, hitting Dark Shadow with yet another point-blank burst of light.

"Tres magnifique!" Aoyama said, striking a pose that reminded me of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. "Your desire to win shines bright in your fighting!"

"Of course!" Tokoyami agreed, and that was definitely a JoJo pose. "What student of Yuuei would I be if I didn't give this fight my all!?"

Aoyama's grin widened. It faltered for a moment when his stomach started to glow, but then went even wider. He clutched his stomach, but in a confident way and not just nausea. His hand glowed and he twisted it, drawing a ball of sparkling blue light out of his stomach. I couldn't be certain, but it looked like he removed the light his Navel Laser was building up before it fired out and hurt him. Dark Shadow lunged at him again, so he shaped the ball into a sort of spear shape and tossed it at him. "SPARKLING SPEAR!" he shouted as the javelin pierced into Dark Shadow and then exploded in a bright light. Dark Shadow shrank down and retreated back into Tokoyami, muttering something about it being too bright out.

"Impressive, you managed to defeat my Dark Shadow!" Tokoyami said. "But don't think this means you've won!" To back up his threat, Tokoyami made two balls of darkness.

"I wouldn't count on it!" Aoyama shouted. He created another spear from his Navel Laser to match Tokoyami's shadow balls. Tokoyami threw one of the shadow balls at Tokoyami, but Aoyama threw his Sparkling Spear at it. The spear pierced through the shadow ball, not even slowing down, then exploded right in front of Tokoyami. He was knocked back, landing near the eadge of the ring.

He groaned, then summoned Corvo. Now that I could see him properly it looked like he'd ranked up, as he looked older than the last time I'd seen him not in a shroud of oppressive darkness. "It seems I'll need more than just my own power to best you," Tokoyami said as he got up. "I shall defeat you with the power of shadows!" As Corvo charged at Aoyama, Tokoyami created and fired several feather-shaped projectiles. Aoyama created yet another Sparkling Spear, which he used to slice through all of the black feathers. He then caught Corvo's sword when he tried to swing at him.

"Splendide!" Aoyama beamed. "Two knights crossing blades! How I wish I were wearing my armor! But wait!" Aoyama jumped back and released his spear, which floated in front of him and then unraveled into ribbons of silvery light. I used Eye for Magic while watching him do an entire magical girl transformation sequence, except instead of a cute dress he made himself a suit of armor similar to his hero costume out of light. Honestly there need to be more magical girl transformation sequences into full plate armor. While he still had some of his Sparkling Spear left over, it looked more like a Radiant Rapier than anything. That didn't seem to bother him at all. In fact, he seemed delighted that he had a vaguely sword-like object to wave around. He grabbed the rapier and thrusted at Corvo.

Corvo blocked with his shield, then swung at him with a shadow-enhanced sword. Aoyama dodged nimbly, only the tip of the sword scraping off of his armor and taking a few motes of light with it. Aoyama riposted with a series of thrusts. Corvo blocked the first two, but the third touched him in the chest. Aoyama caused the rapier to shoot forward as a laser, pushing Corvo with it. Tokoyami shot some more feathers at Aoyama, but his starry cape curled in front of him in defense. The cape was destroyed in the attack, but before it could fully dissipate Aoyama's stomach started to glow. With no warning, a Navel Laser shot out at Tokoyami. In a last-ditch attempt to block it, Tokoyami summoned Dark Shadow again. Dark Shadow tried his best, but he was still weakened from earlier, so he basically evaporated when the laser hit him. Tokoyami was hit, punched out of the ring. Aoyama, meanwhile, collapsed to the ground from the backlash of using his Quirk. His armor dissolved in a flash of light.

"Tokoyami is out of bounds! The winner is Aoyama Yuga!" Midnight-sensei announced.

"Well fought, my friend," Tokoyami congratulated him.

Aoyama gave himself a few moments before saying, "Same to you. It was un match difficile." Then he retched. "Excuse-moi. Quirk backlash..."

Tokoyami nodded. "I know how it is."

xoxoxo

A few minutes later, Tokoyami and Aoyama had left, replaced by Kacchan and Kirishima. "Heck yeah!" Kirishima shouted with a big, toothy grin. "This fight is gonna be so manly!"

Kacchan grinned and punched his palm, exploding it slightly for intimidation factor. "You're pretty damn manly yourself. Try to keep up."

"Start!"

Kacchan blasted himself towards Kirishima, aiming a firey kick at him. Kirishima raised his hands in a block and activated his Quirk. Kacchan responded by using his fire and explosions to pivot in midair while keeping his momentum, then exploding in Kirishima's face right before he could ram into him. They were both knocked back by the explosion, and Kacchan naturally recovered easier because he was used to being thrown around by his explosions. Kirishima wasn't too fazed after he landed, though. He skidded along the ground for a bit before creating a rock wall to stop himself. "Not bad," Kirishima said as he got up.

"Not bad yourself," Kacchan responded. "That was a pretty powerful explosion."

Kirishima's grin widened and he showed off his hardened arms, which were still steaming. "It'll take a bigger blast than that to take me down!" Then he stomped the ground. Spears of concrete shot from the ground, aimed at Kacchan. He exploded upward, then destroyed the spears with a second blast when they followed him. The blast propelled Kacchan forwards, over Kirishima.

"DIE!" he shouted, then put his hands together for a big blast. He waited until Kirishima hardened to hit him with a blast hard enough to drive his feet into the ground.

"That's so manly!" Kirishima shouted as he used earth magic to eject himself out of the concrete.

And right into Kacchan's trap. "DIE!" he shouted, then placed his hands on Kirishima's back while he was still in midair. Kirishima was sent flying, and just barely managed to erect an earth wall to crash into before he sailed over the arena boundary entirely.

Kirishima laughed as he peeled himself out of the Kirishima-shaped indentation in the cracked wall. "That was a good one, man!" he said as he turned to face Kacchan. "Getting me into the air like that? Manly!" His grin widened as the rock wall broke apart, though the pieces didn't fall. "Guess I'll have to up the ante!" Kirishima pointed at Kacchan, and the rocks from the wall shot at him. Kirishima's rocks blocked off all angles of escape aside from dodging back, which would make Kacchan ring out.

Kacchan stood his ground. Before the rocks reached him, he burst into flames. Kirishima winced as the rocks... went through him? I focused my eye-enhancing skills on Kacchan just as the last dregs of the spell wore off. It looked like it was still unpolished, considering the fact that Kacchan's clothes were burned in areas and his skin was red and steaming, but that was definitely Fire Embodiment! Kacchan charged with an explosive dash while Kirishima was still in shock, punching him in the gut. Kacchan followed up with a small explosion that pushed Kirishima out of bounds.

"Kirishima is out of bounds! The winner is Bakugou Katsuki!"

Kirishima laughed again. "Damn, that was manly!" He hopped back onto the arena and clapped Kacchan on the back. Kacchan frowned a bit, but... was that a blush? "The way you just went through my rocks! I've seen that spell before and I still didn't see that coming!"

"You weren't a slouch yourself, Kirishima," Kacchan said. "If I didn't pull a stupidly advanced spell out of my ass you might have won there. Just remember not to gawk the next time someone does something like that and you should do fine."

Kirishima beamed. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, you're good."

I got up from my seat. "I should probably get ready for the next round. Bye!"

"Bye, Midoriya," Tsu said.

"Good luck, Deku!"

xoxoxo

"That match was awesome, Aoyama!" I told Aoyama when I saw him in the hall. "That armor trick was pretty great!"

He grinned. "Merci. I suppose it's a good idea to use it on Bakugou?"

I nodded. "You didn't hear it from me, but you should probably think of some offensive magic for your next fight as well." I winked. "Wish me luck!"

xoxoxo

Iida got into a ready stance on the opposite side of the arena. "Midoriya. I hope we will have a pleasant match."

"Me too, Iida."

"Begin!"

I Flash Stepped to the side when Iida charged at me. He turned back around to face me and continued his charge. When I Flash Stepped again, I was tripped by a raised rock that wasn't there a moment before. Apparently having a mutation that gives you metal engines in your legs gives you earth affinity. Who knew? "You won't be able to dodge this! Reciproburst!" I stood up just in time for Iida to slam into me. My physical defenses may have meant that that didn't hurt, but he was still pushing me back easily. I tried to use magic to grip to the ground and...

Ping! Ping!

My feet stuck to the ground. No, my shoes stuck to the ground, first from the spell Grip and then because of my new Quirk, Magnetize. Even though Iida was pushing me as hard as he could, and with a special move at that, my shoes were not just gripping the ground better but also strongly magnetized, as was the ground under them. The good news was that Iida was nowhere near strong enough to uproot that combination. The bad news was that Magnetize was one of those Quirks that the user can't exactly turn off once it's applied to something, and instead wears off after time, so I was stuck for about five minutes or until I set my shoes on fire, and it would probably look suspicious if I did that.

Wait, no it wouldn't.

"Well... you certainly didn't dodge..." Iida muttered as his engines stalled. I figured that was what took his Quirk out in the cavalry battle. Now that he couldn't push me off the edge, I punched him in the stomach with a sonic-enhanced fist. While he was knocked back I coated myself in Fire Aura, concentrating it on my legs. The heat burned off the magnetization on the cement completely, but only weakened my shoes because I didn't want to melt them. I Flash Stepped at Iida, leaving behind footprints of fire. He blocked my kick with some basic defensive magic and pushed me away. I landed on the ground in front of him. "Impressive, Midoriya!" Iida shouted. Then he grinned. He also set on fire, though it looked like he couldn't quite focus it on his legs as well because he wasn't nearly as skilled with Fire Aura as me.

"Oh right," I said. "Internal combustion engine."

"That's right. I won't just let you win."

"I wasn't planning on it."

Iida used fire magic to compensate for his lack of Engine when he charged me. I dropped on my hand and kicked at him. It wasn't perfect, but my DEX made up for that. Iida countered with a kick of his own, creating a small wave of heat. I grabbed Iida's leg between my legs, using it and a fire jet to pivot and launch myself upward. I had Halitus create an air platform, which I kicked off of. I flipped in midair to axe kick Iida. He dodged backwards, which was to be expected with how much wind-up that attack had, but that wasn't its point. "LIMIT BREAK!" I shouted when my heel hit the ground. "EARTH SURGE!" Iida's eyes widened as the ground rose up in a wave. He was pushed all the way out of the arena, which was mangled beyond recognition.

"Iida is out of bounds! Midoriya wins!"

I stared at the aftermath of Earth Surge. "Um... I can probably fix that," I offered Cementoss.

He waved me off with a smile. "You're fine, I'll do it."

I walked around the wall of rock I'd made. "You okay, Iida? I might have overdone it a bit."

He sighed as he got up. "I'm fine. I... suppose I still have some training to do before I'm able to catch up to you."

"If you want I could spar with you sometime," I offered. "I could really use some experience with pure physical fighting."

He nodded. "I'd love to."

[illlogicals]

☆ﾟ*・ﾟWOAH is that DANNY BLAISE ? i’ve heard they’re a SHIFTER ( PYTHON ) originally from CALIFORNIA. they came here because HE NEEDED A SAFE PLACE AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY and they’ve been here for 4 years. as a 25 / 25 year-old, i’m sure they’re skilled. someone told me they’re SARCASTIC & SELF-SERVING  but i think they’re CHARMING & SELECTIVELY PROTECTIVE.  i can’t help but think of (gotta fix these w/ the new fc change) when i look at them.  —

hey!! my name is vic! I like long walks on the beach, those tiny pink umbrellas in my chocolate milk, and cold, hard CA$H. that and posting memes and destroying the lives of my character children are really what gets me going through this holiday szn. ANYWAYS. lets get on to why you’re really here.

meet danny.

tw: parental death, car crash, abuse, minor blood mention

➝ born daniel blaise bennett, but shortened his name down to danny blaise after he moved from home. ‘home’ was somewhere drifting along the coast of del mar, california in a small beach house owned by close relatives. he used to live there with his aunt and uncle and their three boys after danny’s parents died in a car crash when he was only four. he never really knew his parents and didn’t put much thought into why the universe had to take them away from him without getting to say goodbye. his aunt explained that things just happen and there wasn’t any use into devouring details of his bitter past. his uncle didn’t think it very good of him to cry about it, so they would often go at it back and forth until danny really had something to cry about. we do not stan danny’s uncle in this house !!

➝ he’s very aware of what his family is and he wishes from time to time that his dad was around to show him more about it, but settles for history lessons from one of his many cousins. as he got older, he began to realize that he really does loves his family’s history as well as people like him and what their bloodline means. which often makes him come off as proud. filled to the brim with a pride that not even the deadliest creature can wipe clean. and it often gets him into trouble. my boy has a bad knack for not keeping his mouth shut.

➝ his cousins, mainly the ones that lived with him, never really liked having him around. they just sort of dealt with him because they really didn’t have a choice. and it wasn’t like their parents could just kick danny out as a kid. so instead they treated him like a broke-down cinderella. a cinder-fella, if you want to get fancy. only danny doesn’t cook or clean. he’s essentially a fall guy for them. his cousins would go out, get into trouble at whatever boardwalk, bar, or party, and then blame it on danny. which eventually kept leading to danny constantly getting into fights with random people in town and getting a very hefty record with the local police. “he’s just a shitty kid with no parents. what do you expect?” well, danny will actually pay you in colorful monopoly money over how many times he’s heard that phrase after getting dropped off in a cop car.

➝ things were getting so bad that danny was starting to realize that his cousins weren’t doing it accidentally to toughen him up like they used to say back in the day. they were doing it on purpose. they wanted danny to get jumped, or even worse...to expose himself in front of humans and get him locked up in some freaky horror institution where they use him for science experiments and then kill him when they’re done. that’s probably what scared danny the most. so as he got older he simply tried to lay low by working on broken cars and attempting to surf whenever he wasn’t. before he came to the school however his cousins got him baaaad one last time. but instead of meeting danny up with some loser they messed with at a party, they were the ones who jumped him and nearly beat him to a bloody pulp before someone found him laying weak on the ground. they offered to drive danny back home, but he refused and decided to find shelter elsewhere.

➝ he doesn’t talk about his family. he doesn’t talk about his cousins. danny really doesn’t talk about anything regarding himself. he’s here to learn. he’s here to make a better life. he covers emotions with sarcasm and can usually be found strolling around the grounds by himself. what he plans on doing once this is all over? good luck finding out, sis.

sooooo, yeah. this is really all that I have. I’m still working on nix and savannah but hopefully they’ll be up tomorrow.  maybe tonight if I chug a redbull. but yes. this is danny. he’s a wee baby who deserves better.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

anza-redstar replied to your post “runningwolf62 replied to your post “among all of the other various...”

Hey, on that note, do we think *Nahyuta* looked up *Apollo*? God knows Apollo's been in the law news.

Nahyuta age 19: I'll become an international prosecutor, dismantle Garan's regime from the inside, and while I'm at it I'll look up Apollo! I'm an adult now, I can contact my own brother again if I want to, and I'll be overseas anyway. This is a solid plan. Nahyuta age 21: Mm, ok, new plan where I never speak to Apollo or talk about Apollo or think Apollo's name too loudly in this palace, ever

Nahyuta pre-game: at least Apollo is very far away and will never be involved in this situation, ever. almost everything is terrible, but that's one single solitary good thing which I can thank the Holy Mother for, that Apollo is totally and completely out of this Nahyuta mid-game: oh for FUCK'S ACTUAL SAKE

Yess, I definitely think he would. Like he loves his little sister enough that he’s totally willing to die and/or murder his own soul so that she doesn’t lose her crown or status*, and I see him wanting to look in on his brother to see if he’s doing all right. And hey maybe they’ll meet in court! Or Nahyuta will go there! ....and then Ga’ran murders his heart, soul, morals, and dopamine, and that plan goes out the fucking window.

(*side note, when I first played that part I felt at some point Ga’ran was implying that she’d totally be down to kill Rayfa if Nahyuta got too far out of line, and then I’m like “wait, was that actually implied-implied or was I kind of superimposing von Karma/Blaise, who would totally be down for murdering children, overtop of what she said?” Because like, Ga’ran’s rule would not last without Rayfa. She’d lose Nahyuta and Amara, and thus have no one who could channel, and she’d lose her legitimacy as queen, and they’d have to know that as well, and it was the threat of Rayfa going out with the trash when it’s said who her father actually is, but anyway like did I make that up in my own head or was Ga’ran just kinda like “mm might fuck around might destroy Rayfa’s birthright might just kill her, I dunno”)

-

Nahyuta, searching Apollo’s name like “if he went and became a lawyer like he said he would, like I did, maybe there’s something about him out there somewhere” and he does this for years and then he reads about Apollo getting his client an acquittal on murder charges by indicting his own boss, and then he reads about Apollo getting his client an acquittal on murder charges by getting his client to confess to smuggling charges in a case that involves an international celebrity singer, and Nahyuta is like “holy fuck bro WHAT”

He keeps his eyes on the legal news out of a lot of big cities, to have plausible deniability that he’s not suspiciously interested in LA, and if he is a little more interested in LA, it’s not his fault that everything out of there is so damn batshit. Of course he’s interested!

....when he reads about the courthouse bombing, he just has to hope Apollo wasn’t there, because even though he’s pretty sure he knows where Apollo works, he’s not just gonna contact that office because that’s gonna give Apollo hope to come back to Khura’in/reach out to Nahyuta again and FUCK if Nahyuta is letting him get involved because that’s just another person Ga’ran can use against him so he’s just. checking obituaries. hoping a name doesn’t show up.

(When Gaspen Payne arrives in Khura’in after being fired with extreme prejudice from LA, Nahyuta finds him intolerable and tries to ask him about the courthouse bombing but he still doesn’t get any useful information out of him and he’s like “can I assume Apollo is alive I think I can do that? I’m not going to hope because hope died several years ago, Ga’ran murdered it stabbing it with her nails.”)

Then he gets to LA and Ema tells him the name of the defense attorney on this case and Nahyuta feels every emotion all at once for about two seconds before returning to his default “dead inside” but with a side helping of “oh fuck no why this I have to keep Apollo out of this” and he considers all options and goes with the only option he’s gone with for the past five years which is “continue being an emotionally detached megadouche”. 

Nailed it.