#no wizards were (physically) harmed in the writing of this fic

[alans-maladaptive-daydreams]

Love in the eyes of Asmodeus.

Asmo fic because he is the cutest. I hope nightbringer gives us a lot of content about their past and personalities more in depth, I really want a story that makes me cry lol.

Warnings: Slight mention of abuse, violence and mental illness. Non-native writing, always open to corrections and constructive criticism.

Reader: Gender Neutral.

Genre: A little bit of angst and fluff.

Masterlist

Asmodeus was always physically beautiful and had taken advantage of this from the first moment he set foot in Devildom. To anyone's eyes this makes him seem cold, the reality is that sometimes he simply liked to see people ruined by his own hand. Sometimes he didn't even feel the need or desire for anything, he simply wanted to see those who gave him their love and their bodies to remain by his side to suffer.

He liked to think that those who loved him, loved him so much that they would rather die than not have him. He provoked madness in his lovers and his ego was filled with it. He ruined their minds, they became almost slaves to his love.

More than once he had seen two people kill each other for him, for a long time it was fun. He liked having so much attention, even if he had to use charms on his prey, he would, he was not interested in anyone's well being but his own.

It used to be Asmodeus and his ego, a toxic ego as destructive as a natural disaster. One that terribly destroyed all the victims of his charms.

Eventually it all became lonely. I knew it when I saw one of his victims being happy with a person who really loved him.

It used to be Asmodeus and his ego, a toxic ego as destructive as a natural disaster. One that terribly tore apart all the victims of his charms.

Eventually it all became lonely. He knew it when he saw one of his victims being happy with a person who really loved him.

He remembered being in the human world with Solomon, perhaps the only person who tolerated him, they had gone to buy some stupid experiment of the wizard and while Asmodeus was sitting on a bench in the beautiful park, waiting for Sol, he saw them.

He knew they were an attractive person, yet that day they looked more attractive than he had ever imagined. Maybe it was the haircut or the impeccable style they wore. Maybe it was because they had put on weight and looked healthy. Or maybe it was the beautiful smile that graced their face as they looked at the person with them.

Asmodeus knew that their beauty was not only a physical change, but also a mental one. When he abandoned them to their fate, they became depressed and sick after he had taken everything from them, leaving them to practically die in sad loneliness.

For the first time the demon understood the harm he was causing people and regretted all the damage he had caused, regretted leaving them in such a depressing state.

It must have been painful to have to even breathe in that precarious and cold flat in which he had left them. No money, no health. Lonely, huddling together to try to generate some warmth for themselves.

They looked beautiful being happy, he thought as he watched the couple hold hands and talk quietly. He really wished that this time they could get that happiness that his disastrous lifestyle had robbed them of.

That moment sparked something in Asmodeus, a desire to be loved too. A desire to be happy and to be able to live peacefully with his beloved, but he knew he didn't deserve it.

He had committed too many sins and unleashed the worst in him, now he was alone, with guilt and insecurities gnawing at his brain on a daily basis.

He gave his heart away so few times in his long life that he only needed one hand to count them, and he even had fingers to spare. But those times were enough to shatter his self-esteem completely, to leave him on his knees begging for forgiveness from all the people he had hurt.

He thought that someone like him did not deserve to be loved. Every time he read the sweet comments of his followers, every time someone confessed their love to him, Asmodeus felt guilty. He wanted to be an example of perfection, he didn't want to be a nuisance or worry the people around him, Asmodeus didn't think he was worthy of any kind of love after ruining so many lives.

Until one day Barbatos opens a portal and a human, a clumsy one with seemingly no survival instinct, falls through and hits their ass on the reddish carpet.

You and Asmodeus connected gazes, and only seconds into the Devildom, the demon knew you were destined and that it was going to hurt too much to love you.

Strangely his seductive tricks didn't work on you, he remembered throwing a tantrum in his room after you looked at him funny when he tried one of his spells on you. You were immune to his magic and that complicated things.

His self-confidence was shaken when he learned that his brothers were after you too, he spent nights wondering why you would want someone like him. He's not smart like Satan or sleek like Lucifer. He doesn't have a beefy body and a beautiful heart like Beelzebub or the tenderness and calmness of Belphegor. Nor is he as interesting and strangely attractive as Leviathan, let alone as charismatic and funny as Mammon.

He was just a pretty face who wanted to crawl between your legs and vanish. A demon with too many dead bodies in the wardrobe, and who would probably break your heart after he got what he wanted.

For a long time he was content to be your friend and nothing more. He really thought you didn't see him as more than that, so your clumsy but brave confession took him by surprise. You had told him one day at RAD, as you rested on the soft grass. You bought him a new collection from his favourite designer and, with hands shaking and sweat beading on your forehead, you told him how you felt.

"Asmo…" you murmured, your heart racing, feeling like you were going to faint at any moment. The tingle you felt whenever he looked at you appeared when he turned to look at you with that cute expression. You held out the gift for which you had worked and collected grim, and when he was about to thank you, you interrupted him. "Asmo, we are friends and I have heard you say many times how you didn't think someone should love you for all you have done in the past. You opened up and showed me all your hurts and insecurities. You showed me your soul." Asmodeus looked intrigued at where your speech was going, you felt your voice tremble and you begged to please not let it fail you at that very important moment.

You loved him so much that there were no words to prove it, even with how disastrous the beginning of his life was, even with the worst of his demonic self, you loved him and maybe you weren't in your right mind to give yourself so blindly to a being who would probably break you for the fun of it, but you were already there and you weren't going to back down. "You're one of the sweetest people I've ever met. And even though we have the same pain when we look ourselves in the mirror…you helped me to love myself. You helped me to be kind to myself, to forgive myself. You too should forgive yourself for all that you have done Asmo. A sweet and loving being like you deserves all the love in the world. You deserve to love yourself because you are already loved Asmo, you just don't notice it," you gulped and your face felt hot.

You were going to dive in head first and nothing was going to stop you, not if it was someone like him. "I love you Asmo, as a partner, as a friend…and as someone who is in love with your whole being. I love everything about you, from the most mundane things, to the things that make you most insecure. All those mistakes you have made, all the things you regret have made you the wonderful person you are today, I love everything about you even the things you think are unforgivable. I love you Asmodeus."

Your breathing had calmed as you watched the shocked face of the demon in front of you. For every second you waited for him to respond, you felt your heart break. It was like a bucket of ice water. You weren't going to cry in front of him.

So the only thing that came to your mind was to withdraw in silence. You thought his silence meant rejection but Asmodeus was as nervous as you were, he couldn't understand why you had chosen him. He wanted to reply that it was obvious that you were going to love someone like him, he wanted to reply with his typical confidence but he was blank and by the time he realised it he was crying.

His cheeks red and wet from his salty tears made you a little nervous. The beautiful eyes of the demon looked at you with a gaze full of surprise and love.

No magic, no spells. No tricks or secret intentions.

You loved him, you simply and honestly loved him.

You loved him in a way that he had only seen in fiction, in a way so pure and sincere.

That very afternoon was the beginning of a beautiful love story. To the surprise of both of you, his brothers looked happy with the relationship, they didn't throw a tantrum like you thought they would.

"I'm happy you found love, Asmo," said Lucifer hugging his brother. They all looked happy, and even bought food to celebrate.

Asmo felt something different that night as he dined with his loved ones, he felt that maybe what he was looking for was always right in front of his eyes. Not only did the romantic love he felt for you fill him, the love he received from all those around him made his heart overflow with emotion.

After hurting so many people. After redeeming himself and accepting his punishments one by one. After searching for love for so long. After the enormous journey he had made, Asmodeus could finally say that he knew true love.

His friends, who supported and comforted him whenever his insecurities plagued him. His fans who filled his Devilgram with messages of love whenever they heard he was having a bad time. His brothers who watched over him from the moment he opened his eyes for the first time. You, who refused to leave him even when the world turned against him.

That was true love for Asmodeus and he loved love.

[spottedenchants]

Summary:

Perhaps this shouldn’t steal the air from Essek’s lungs like a revelation.

“It’s not fair.”

And yet.

AKA in which Essek Thelyss dies

-

Ch 1: Does the Dark Feel Warmer Than the Light Now? - A reunion is had, and Essek faces some consequences

Ch 2: Sovereign Eyes Will Keep You Honest - Essek takes a test, and Essek Thelyss dies

[cheryyori]

moon knight fic idea that I had brewing in my head for 2 months but I can't push myself to write right now bc I'm having writer's block ofc

Might write them down as headcanons/bullet points to have them down before making this idea more concrete

fem!oc used for this fic idea btw! (can be read as a reader insert as well if you so choose as, but written this idea with an oc in mind), also lots of Japanese and other Asian mythology that I find would fit the story in mind, also I'm Asian so why tf not let me project a bit ok???

fic idea:

Imagine oc being able to see ghost and spirits (more specifically yokai and anything close to the sort) since childhood. Terrifying really.

Demon paralysis be damned when you open your eyes to see a literal shadow figure staring down at you. Panic attack ensue.

Oh yeah, did she mention the voice in her head guiding her on what to do with these spirits and how to handle them, yeah that's a thing too...

Apparently they're the goddess Izanami, overseer of the underworld Yomi. Fantastic.

She also mentions how more spirits are running amok and unchecked bc APPARENTLY THANOS' SNAP HAD FUCKED THE BALANCE OF LIFE AND DEATH. So I guess those that disappeared weren't actually dead but literally just ceased to exist and it threw Yomi is a disarray of chaos.

Basically the goddess was pissed. So now oc is their unwilling paranormal detective, being forced to faces these horrendous spirits so they can pass on. Fucking fantastic.

Also the Blip actually made it worse too. Great.

Apparently there's some consequences of being forced to help these spirits

They're not limited to out of body experience while taking the train home, usually with oc being in the place of the memory of the spirits that were either before or lead to their deaths. Awesome. More nightmare fuel for her ig.

While this happens to her mentally, physically her body will either be unconscious, spaced out, or even moving on its own unconsciously.

When she sleeps they become vivid nightmares she can't remember usually, only the terror she felt. Sometimes she'll find bruises and scratches on her and remember only bits of what happened. Night terrors. Check. Bodily harm. Check.

Works in the museum both Dane and Sersi works at too bc I can and pls Jeremy add some Dane/Steven/Marc interactions for season 2 pls I'm on my knees

Dane was said to make an appearance in Moon Knight originally but they didnt know how to add him so Dane is now in this fic bc idk what to do with this info now.

Dane and her are friends and friends only. He helped her get a job bc she's out of one bc she was Snapped.

Oh right she was snapped, forgot to mention that lol.

Yes she knows Sersi is an alien wizard. No she doesn't want to turn into a giraffe Dane.

If Dane is doing his Black Knight activities, 9 times out of 10 she doesn't know. She thinks he's distance himself bc of what happened to Sersi, and decided not to push.

Takes place a bit before the start of the series. She's Steven's neighbor but they dont talk much, only wave and greet each other on the lift and when they head to the same bus stop before she left to step onto the subway.

Goodness does Steven thinks she's adorable. A little better at social cues than he is but still as awkward. She a goober really.

She thinks he's cute too. Like a puppy.

Somehow they go on a date (personal headcanon that it was Jake that set Steven with a date bc he has the most social out all of them, which will make things real awkward for them when everyone finds out yikes). Well they try too. You know what happens on Steven's end but surpise suprise. She actually arrived late to the restaurant bc she had another out of body experience bc of some spirits she had encountered (thankfully it was in her home) by the time she arrived Steven wasn't there. It was hours later, she assumed that he thought she stood him up and left.

She ate the steak anyways. She was hungry.

She didn't dare to call or text him, afraid of what he'll say, so color her surprise when he called her instead.

What??? They have a date??? But it's Sunday. Confused, she decide to tell him that she thought he thought she stood him up. Both are confused. They decided to reschedule the date then, both hoping that this one goes well (tbh both were ecstatic that the other was giving them another chance).

Ofc that doesn't happen bc Harrow and his cult with Ammit ensue hijinks.

So Marc and her are complicated bc they used to be friends as kids but then her family moved to NY. They kept contract and talk but it became very minimal. Like simple how are you type shit. So they have no idea what the other looks like over the years.

So Marc is in for a big twist when he finds out Steven's date is her. It doesn't help he had a tiny itsy bit of a crush on her as kids.

But he doesn't have feelings for her he loves Layla still, right? It's probs bc of the fond memories he held of her as a child that makes him soft for her. No not bc she's kinda of a cute goof.

They're grump and sunshine embodied really.

Also embodies slow burn and friends to lovers trope real hard. Marc's gotta to learn to move on and live a happy life. It's hard but he'll get there.

He is emotionally constipated and will deny any possible thought of him having feelings for oc or any form of happiness.

Oc does not approve and annoys him with affection.

What the fuck was that????

A hug.

Disgusting. Do it again....

Nicknames. Nicknames! NICKNAMES!

Sunshine - Marc, Twinkle Toes - oc

Hc that Marc was kinda clumsy as a child and oc called him that to tease him (was more reinforced after they watched atla).

Steven call her his little sunflower.

Jake calls her his bébé usually.

And Layla.

They're divorced. They'll try to work it out but really Layla realizes that she fell out of love for a while now. The lies and guilt put a strain on their marriage.

That doesn't mean she doesn't care for Marc. She does. As friends.

She won't admit it but deep down, she thinks Marc was conflicted about his feelings whether he knew it or not (whether it was his guilt about her father or not, no one truly knowz). So seeing how he gets along with oc is good for him.

Layla slowly pushed him towards her bc she wants Marc to be happy as well and move on.

Layla is a good friend and wants everyone's best interests.

Now onto Jake.

Keeping in mind of the hc that it's Jake that asked oc out on a date on Steven's behalf. Well then things are gonna be messy. Bc haha they've met before. Like way before Marc met Khonshu and became his fist of vengence.

They met when she was in college and hit it off from there. I don't want to give away too much of their relationship but long story short. Jake does break contact with her.

So when everyone finds out about Jake things get awkward real fast and real bad.

Small hint of their relationship is ???? To lovers trope.

Khonshu is a manipulative bird brain and Izanami commit Khonshu hate crimes on the reg as she should.

Speaking of Izanami.

Goddess of Death and Creation. The overseer of Yomi, the underworld.

Yeah she's cool. Kinda unhinged but cool.

A bit over the top, but aren't all gods are???

Kinda gives off Scaramouche vibes from Genshin Impact but not as arrogant you know. She's not very well liked within the Japanese pantheon due to her role and also from her ex-husband's influences.

She really does care for oc. Thinks of her as her kin. She was a mother once too.

Speaking of her ex-husband, also commits hate crimes against her ex-husband Izanagi too (iykyk) and tbh go off queen.

Only oc sees her and she takes an appearance of a normal woman but dresses expensively. Thinking of Manwol from Hotel de Luna, same vibes as well tbh bc when I write Nami I think of Manwol tbh.

Oh possession is a thing too, ig

Bc with how oc acts, Izanami needs to take over when push comes to shove. Though this happens rarely.

Mostly this happens when oc is unconscious and in peril danger. Or when provoked enough to encite her fury or vise versa (usually the later is towards other gods of different pantheon, yeah she's still bitter they did nothing to restore balance in life and death). Sometimes when oc's spirit/consciousness is forcefully pushed out of their body, Izanami takes control to make sure the body is breathing.

Overall that's it for this word vomit. It's still in the process but if you want to know more lmk bc I haven't seen this idea in Moon knight fics just yet.

Fic idea inspiration taken from: Hotel de Luna (kdrama), Goblin (kdrama), Tomorrow (kdrama), The Uncanny Encounter (kdrama), Tale of the Nine Tailed (kdrama), Death Mark (game), Spirit Hunter NG (game), Mieruko-chan (manga)

[glimmerglanger]

glimmer do you think you’d ever write an obikin smut prompt again? I’ve been nervous about asking but this one wouldn’t leave my head: Obi-Wan and Anakin at a fancy party, either in the aftermath of a fight, or seeing each other for the first time in a while, going nuts with frustration/longing and finally having frantic reunion/make-up sex in a library or coatroom somewhere while the party rages on around them. Maybe Anakin has to put his hand on Obi-Wan’s mouth to keep him quiet...

Alright, so, I had a devil of a time trying to make this prompt work in canon, and then realized, well, why not pick an AU where I could better see it happening? Obi-Wan!Prime may perhaps not be down with an assignation during an important diplomatic event. Emperor Obi-Wan from the mirror!au, though? Oh, he could be persuaded. AND SO HE HAS BEEN.

Technically, reading “Through a Glass, Darkly” probably would make this make more sense, since this takes place AFTER the end of that fic. But I don’t think it’s necessary. This is a “both Obi-Wan and Anakin were raised as dark-siders because ALL the Jedi are dark-siders” au, wherein Anakin has managed to put Obi-Wan on the throne.

This fic is NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. SPICY. BE YE SO WARNED.

(Also, OP, I want you to know that I only realized today that you meant a fight between the BOYS and not, say, a battle with the Seppies. So that’s where my head has been the last few months.)

~~~~~

Anakin spotted Obi-Wan first in a knot of Senators, the politicians clustered all around him like noisily squawking birds. They were a background consideration, one Anakin dismissed out of hand as he stepped fully into the ballroom.

He’d never cared much for such...galas. He’d been forced to attend many, when Palpatine ruled as Emperor. Palpatine had enjoyed showing him off, whispering into Anakin’s ear as the Senators slowly mingled around, the sour tang of their ambition mingling with the sharper edge of their fear through the Force.

Anakin enjoyed the events slightly more, these days, with Obi-Wan in his rightful place.

He looked better in the fine robes of office than Palpatine ever had. He was wearing robes all in black and gold, tailored to accentuate his shoulders and the trimness of his waist, all the lines of the fabric drawing attention to the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

He was the best thing Anakin had seen in weeks, since he’d - with a certain degree of vicious delight - taken the army to settle some….uprisings from the long defeated Hutts. It was good to remind them of their place, every now and then.

But, oh, Anakin had ached with missing Obi-Wan the entire time he was away. He understood, perfectly well, that Obi-Wan could not go galavanting around the galaxy, the way he once had. He was Emperor, now. His place was on Coruscant, protected and safe.

Obi-Wan turned as Anakin moved through the crowd, single-minded, ignoring the Senators who tried to catch his attention. None of them mattered. Every one of them could have dropped dead, as far as he was concerned.

Anakin’s breath caught, momentarily, as Obi-Wan finally faced him, head tilting to the side, golden eyes catching the lights around the room. He’d worn his hair loose, all in a spill down over his shoulder, held back from his face by the crown high on his brow. 

There was one foolish Senator directly between them, still chattering away inanely, and Anakin put a hand on the man, pushing him to the side, ignoring the sound he made.

Obi-Wan pulled a little face at the action, but any ire washed away almost immediately, when Anakin went to one knee, snagging one of Obi-Wan’s hands and pulling it close, brushing a kiss across his soft, warm skin. “High General,” Obi-Wan said, warm and full of promise, looking down at him, “you are returned.”

“I am,” Anakin said, flowing back to his feet, sliding his hand up Obi-Wan’s arm, over his shoulder, to curve against his neck. He murmured, ignoring the stares, “As I promised,” and leaned down, taking the kiss he’d more than earned in his time away.

The Senators, proving they were not complete fools, found other places to be. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth curved into a warm smile when Anakin drew back, his eyes half-shut as though he savored still the kiss. “I missed you,” Anakin murmured, brushing his nose against Obi-Wan’s cheek, enjoying the hitch of his breath, the clean smell of his skin.

Anakin knew, perfectly well, that he smelled not so finely. He’d come directly from the shuttle, still battered a bit from the last battle, impatient to see Obi-Wan, to put hands on him and pull him close.

“And I you,” Obi-Wan told him, and made a thick, pleased sound when Anakin took his hand and turned, moving through the crowd. He knew the palace well enough, recalled little nooks and rooms from so many past galas. 

Some days, he wanted to have Obi-Wan in front of the entire Senate, in front of the whole galaxy, so they knew exactly how he felt, what he wanted, what they risked if they spoke ill of Obi-Wan or tried to harm him in any way.

More often, though, he wanted Obi-Wan for his own, wanted no others to see the way he looked so soft and sweet when Anakin kissed or touched him. Obi-Wan wanted the galaxy to be taken care of. He wanted people to be treated well, to live...fulfilling lives, Anakin supposed.

Anakin cared little for any of that.

He wanted Obi-Wan, pulling him through one of the fine, arched doors onto a balcony overlooking so much of Coruscant and, with a nudge of the Force, shutting the door behind them definitively.

The air on the balcony was cool and refreshing. Anakin was sure the lights below were luminous and lovely.

He wasn’t paying attention to them. It was so much better to crowd Obi-Wan against the closest wall, to brace a hand by Obi-Wan’s head and lean down far enough to kiss him properly, the way he deserved to be kissed.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan gasped, clever hands busy between them, all his want curling around Anakin, clear as a physical touch. 

“I missed you,” Anakin told him, nipping at his smooth jaw, back towards his throat. “I missed you so fucking much, I--”

He grew too impatient for words. They’d never been his strong suit, anyway. He curled his fingers into Obi-Wan’s hair, kissed him again, hard, and assisted with shoving fabric out of the way.

It was a relief, something pure and right, to get his hand around Obi-Wan’s cock, freeing him from silken and velvet fabrics. Anakin could take them both in hand if he tried, the leather of his glove smooth and cool, Obi-Wan’s skin against his, Obi-Wan’s breath punching out against his mouth, the entire rest of the world going away, and--

And, when this kriffing party ended, Anakin was going to carry Obi-Wan off and arrange for a more fitting reunion. For the moment, he brought them both off, fast and impatient. The hot spill of Obi-Wan’s come across his fingers - his cock - was enough to take the edge off, to pull Anakin over into his own release.

They slumped against each other for a moment, breathing the same air, and then Obi-Wan hummed and said, “Oh, dear one, it’s so good to have you back.”

Anakin felt his mouth curve up, sweet delight racing up his spine. It was worth it, all of it, the fighting and death and blood, to hear those words. Worth it to have Obi-Wan grip his hand and lift it, to frown over the mess on his glove and to grouse, softly, “This mess won’t do, though.”

Anakin watched him, cock twitching again, as he licked across the leather, battered by battle and covered with their mingled come and--

Obi-Wan kept eye contact the entire time, and smiled, when he finished, leaning forward to kiss Anakin, mouth tasting of them.

“Come on, then,” Obi-Wan said, breezy, “shall we make our goodbyes?”

[slytherinsnekxvii]

let's talk about lily evans. she's an interesting character—or rather, the case surrounding her character is quite interesting.

i honestly don't know if i can say i dislike her. by all means, she should be a fan favourite, and she is... but for some rather intriguing reasons.

for one thing, due to the fact she's hardly expanded on in the series, certain parts of the fandom have been forced to either take the few qualities that she displays canonically and amplify them to the extreme (eg. immediate righteous anger at the slightest hint of injustice in fic) or create an entirely new personality (eg. no, i didn't actually disapprove of your pranks, it was just sexual tension). of course, the option of creating a new personality is much more tempting when you can just add amplified canon traits on the side.

for another, her relationship with james sometimes seems likes it's being weaponized against snape and his fans. i've seen arguments that go like "haha, snape just wanted to fuck lily, but james got her in the end anyway, sucks to be you", and not only does it entirely reduce her to an object, it feels like they don't even care about the relationship, the dynamics or the characters. she's basically a plot device.

and thirdly, half of her characterisation in fic is to be a peter stand-in. we don't like the rat man, so let's take the pretty girl and put her in place of the guy who was canonically a member of the marauders, even up until he was named secret keeper. suddenly, she's a prankster and an enabler.

but, snek, you may say, all of that is fanon lily, tho. you just explained that people seem to like her because they just put any personality they want into her as long as she's at least vaguely a good person. you would be right.

let's look at canon lily. she's described as the brightest witch of her age, most everyone speaks favourably of her. in fact, the only people we see actively disliking/being upset with her are petunia, out of jealousy and the invasion of privacy concerning her letter, severus, who lashed out and used a slur that also applied to him in a moment of serious distress and apologised after, and well, pureblood supremacists by virtue of her being muggleborn. interestingly enough, even this dislike manages to develop everyone's character more than it does her own.

as a teenage girl myself, let's look at her actions as a teenage girl. not necessarily in chronological order because I'm writing this at 2am and my memory is already mediocre at best.

1. she's done well enough in school to be considered trustworthy and responsible enough to be a prefect.

okay, i can respect that. a good few of the prefects at my school were really just appointed based on how much the teachers liked you, but at hogwarts, there's so few of them that they must put at least a little effort into it, so i'll move on.

2. she does not press for details when informed that her best friend's life needed to be saved by someone who has been publicly tormenting him for years

now, see, there's no reason why she needs to play therapist. it's not her job, she's just a girl, and we know that snape wasn't supposed to talk about the incident, so he would've been stuck if she had asked for an explanation. however, i also feel like she doesn't seem particularly concerned about his wellbeing, and when he brings up his concerns about lupin, rather than ask for proof, she dismisses it. which, fair enough, i would hate to listen to someone talk about the same thing over and over and over, but, i also feel like the fixation on a theory like that would be cause for concern.

3. she dismisses the actions of a group known to play tricks that harm people and have specifically been tormenting her best friend on the basis that they don't use dark magic

first, i'm going to establish what i usually assume dark magic refers to. aside from jinxes, hexes and curses, i also include anything that produces an effect similar to any of the unforgivables (takes away your life, your free will or your ability to feel safe in your own body, such as when you're in excruciating pain), and magic that would require a sacrifice of some sort.

when snape tries to point out the danger in what the marauders do, she insists that they don't use dark magic. and they don't... but they do use illegal magic. she then argues against the company that snape keeps, which, again, to be fair, is justified considering mulciber's done something to mary macdonald... it's also not a particularly realistic ask. snape probably shares a dorm with these guys, and he's a poor half-blood so he's already on the outs. as far as he knows, any dissent will be met with him getting hexed in his sleep. but, i digress.

given that the marauders have been shown to be doing extremely dangerous with little regards to anyone's safety, and actively tormenting her best friend, i disagree with her choice here. on the other hand, she's made her own friends in gryffindor and perhaps she sees a nicer side of them that we don't get to. she's justified in her actions, but i still disagree.

4. she intervenes when her best friend is hung upside down by a spell of his own invention at the wands of the people who have tormenting him for years

she does object to the marauders' treatment of him, and she does try to get them to let him down. if i were in her position, i would absolutely do the same. i respect the decision to stand up for her friend.

5. she does not seriously attempt to help him or punish the marauders

i do not respect how she handled it. at any point, she could have drawn her wand. but, snek, you say, perhaps she didn't want to get involved physically. she wanted to follow the rules. in that case, at any point, she could taken points, assigned detention, or sent someone to get a member of staff. she does none of those things and i viscerally disagree. if we were ever friends and someone tried to hurt you, i can assure you that i would try to at least see to it that they'd be punished, even if it wasn't immediate or by my own hand. lily, however, chooses to argue rather than take action.

6. she smiles when severus gets hung upside down

chances are, it was more than likely an involuntary reaction, like laughing when your friend has fallen over. however, the fact that it was intentionally written in seems like it's mean to be an indicator that the friendship was already falling apart.

7. she comments on her best friend's poverty and uses a name that's been used to make fun of him after he calls her a slur that also applies to him

she was 100% within her rights to be upset by being called a slur. it is never okay to use slurs. the only situation in which a slur could possibly ever be appropriate would be if you were an oppressed group attempting to reclaim said slur which is not at all what snape was doing here. he was experiencing cruelty, being humiliated, publicly, for no reason beyond existing and he was in distress, choking on soap and upside down. it was damaging to his pride, especially when james suggests that he needs lily to fight his battles for him (paraphrasing) which is an emasculating statement to make, especially to a teenage boy. so, snape lashes out with the most hurtful word he could think of, which happened to be a slur that also applies to him. lily was 100% justified in being upset about this, and she retaliated in kind. she was very much allowed to say what she said. i understand that she was hurt and angry and i respect that, especially as i can't guarantee that i would not have been just as upset in that situation.

8. even when the threat of sexual harassment is made, she still does nothing

i get it, at this point, she's hurt, she's mad, she wants him to suffer since she's a teenage girl and teenage girls hold grudges like it's nobody's business, but... i definitely couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. she basically just let them go through with it.

9. she does not accept her best friend's apology for calling her a slur that also applies to him, effectively burying the friendship

she is, by no means, obligated to continue being friends with him. however, if i were in that position, and the apology was sincere, i would take the friend back.

10. she goes on to date and eventually marry the guy who bullied her former best friend for his entire school life

no. i disagree. but, snek, you say, james changed. no. he didn't. we know, that at this point, james was still going after snape behind lily's back. you can say that she didn't know, but that means that she would have allowed james to lie to her and that doesn't sit right with me bc a relationship built on lies is a relationship that is going to fall apart, especially when your partner has been disappointed by your actions before. you can say that she did know, and that proves that she simply didn't take her responsibilities as head girl seriously enough to stop the head boy from harassing people when she explicitly told him not to. the point is, no. there is no way that this would have worked out as a long term relationship. james is too comfortable lying to her. i can't even say she was justified. there is no circumstance where i personally see this as okay for anybody involved.

alright, so, essentially teenage lily was justified in (most of) her actions, even if i find them questionable.

adult lily dies at 21, while saving her son, but her death also helps save the wizarding world. good job. she, as expected, did what any good mother would.

and that's canon lily.

my thoughts: she's a perfect example of why writing tips are so adamant on making sure people try to show and not tell. we were told that lily is meant to be good and pure and lovely, but the author never bothered to actually prove that, so what we're left with a dissonance between what we see and what we know.

as a result, i still don't know if i truly dislike her. her actions are justified, but they don't match with what we've been told, and we don't have any other information to go off of. at best, i can say for certain that i disagree with many of her choices, despite understanding why she would have made them (except for marrying james potter, uggghh, the only good thing to come out of that was harry and the saving of the wizarding world by extension, ig).

thanks for reading all that, btw! hope it made sense :)

[yellowmagicalgirl]

Hey, how do you and other Krexie shippers work around the age gap? I mean, I ship Krexie and have my own headcanons, but I'm curious to see what others have done.

I feel like I answered this before several months ago, but I don’t feel like finding that post so I’ll answer again. The full answer to your question is a short essay (and that’s without including the footnotes) so I’m gonna put it under a cut. This is based upon my own experience in the fandom, and the krexie circles I frequent are the ones on FFN, AO3, and of course, here on tumblr. Abuse and grooming (in the context of real people) will be talked about below the cut.

TL;DR I’ve seen three main ways of dealing with the age gap: ignoring it, aging Krel up, and aging Douxie down.

Ignore It

This one actually encompasses two different methods. The first of the two is to treat one or both of the boys’ ages as nebulous, with the maturity level of “teenager” and nothing more explicit since Douxie is about nine centuries old and Akiridion royals live for centuries Krel’s exact age is unknown. In this case, the age of one or both of the boys won’t be mentioned aside from being hundereds of years old. In addition, at least on Douxie’s end, this is somewhat canon. Fun fact: Douxie never calls himself a college student, and neither does Archie. Likewise, neither of them call Douxie 19. That was Steve, who deserved far better of a character arc than just to be the idiot that he is in Wizards. However, even though he deserved better Steve is not a reliable source of information on Douxie’s age, but Douxie and Archie are. In Wizards, the only information Douxie and Archie give on Douxie’s age is that he’s about nine centuries old.[1]

The other method of ignoring the ages is to treat Douxie as a 19-year-old (ignoring the immortality) and Krel as a 16-year-old, and to mention one or both of their ages. Their ages are ignored due to one or both of the following reasons: for one, in real life a three year gap between teenagers doesn’t automatically mean the older person is a predator. It’s something to be cautious about, and the younger person really needs to have people they can trust since if the relationship does turn toxic they would have less power and thus be in more danger (usually, though it is possible for the younger person to be more dangerous to the older one), but that doesn’t automatically mean something bad will happen. The other reason to ignore the boys’ ages is because honestly? If someone needs non-canon ships to tell them which relationships are healthy and which ones are dangerous, then their parents/guardians and teachers have failed them. Fanfic authors, fanartists, and other people creating/consuming fanworks on the internet are not responsible for educating random people on the internet. In fact, they and their content are not responsible for if a random person is abused, even if the abuser uses fanworks to groom the victim. It’s the fault of the abuser for being abusive.[2]

Out of these two methods, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen more using the former method of ignoring than the age gap than the latter.

Age Krel Up

This, again, has two different methods. The more common method is to have Krel (and the other Arcadia Oaks High students) age naturally, until they’re at an age that the fanwork creator is more comfortable with having krexie at. These types of fanworks take place years after the events of Wizards. The other method is to create an au where Krel (and likely the other Arcadia Oaks High students) were already the age the fanwork creator is more comfortable with when Douxie and Krel first met. I, personally, have created a lot of content for the first method, and I’ve seen other people use this method as well. My fake marriage au utilizes the latter method, and this method would also work for au’s where Douxie and Krel are both adults when they meet but the au does not follow canon.

Age Douxie Down

This one also has a basis in canon, though I haven’t seen any other krexie shipper use this method of dealing with the age gap. I, personally, use this whenever I want to make krexie content that’s compliant with Trollhunters and 3Below but also do not want to deal wit backwards time travel because I hate backwards time travel. However, someone should write an au where Douxie and Krel are human high schoolers whose biggest problem is being gay for the guy attending your rival school.

Now, while Douxie and Archie gave Douxie the vague age of about 900 years old and Steve made the assumption that Douxie was a 19-year-old college student, Trollhunters actually went out of its way to show that Douxie was a high school student.

In season two episode 10, Mary reveals that she was dating a student from Arcadia Oaks Academy, and Eli remarked that that was their rival school. I was in high school when Trollhunters was airing, and let me tell you: high schools do not have rivalries with colleges. Arcadia Oaks Academy would have to be a high school, or maybe a k-12 or 6-12. However, it’s far more likely that Arcadia Oaks Academy is a high school with the same age range of students as Arcadia Oaks High. In season three episode 1, Mary excitedly tells Claire that a student from Arcadia Oaks Academy is at Arcadia Oaks High. This student is Douxie, and unless I’m remembering wrong he also mentions attending the Academy. Unless Mary knew all along that Douxie was a wizard and was trying to give him a cover story for why he was hanging out at Arcadia Oaks High only for this information about Mary to be cut from Wizards due to time constraints, there is absolutely no reason for Mary to lie about Douxie’s age to Claire. The fact that Douxie was considered to be a high schooler by most of the fandom (some people had been on the train of “he’s a centuries old adult” for a long time) is why the krexie fanworks created pre-Wizards are all treating Douxie like a high schooler. (Yes, people shipped krexie (or at least consumed/produced fanworks for the ship) before Wizards came out. I have my fic on AO3/FFN and other people’s comments to prove it, as well as some fanart saved to my blog. Sadly, some of the people are now antis, and one them has now harassed at least one krexie shipper.)

Personally, when I age Douxie down, I age him down to 17. Only 17. Not 17-plus-several-centuries-without-aging. In-universe he may try to call himself 1492 years old, but he’s really just 17. However, as I mentioned before, if I’m aging him down to 17 then I’m also completely ignoring the backwards time travel aspects of Wizards. And, by doing that, I end up really changing the lore of Wizards. If you would like more information for the timeline I use when I age Douxie down, please refer to this ask.

In Conclusion

Thank you for reading this. These footnotes aren’t nearly as on topic and are more of a ramble.

[1] Re: Douxie having a really vague age of nine centuries. If you take enough chemistry and physics (but in my experience especially chemistry) courses, you will have it drilled into your head that 900 years old could really be anywhere from 850 to 949 years old. So, while 919 is definitely possible in the age range given by the age of “about 900″, it’s really a give-or-take number. However, if we truly want to be accurate, then if we choose to have Trollhunters take place in the 2016-2017 school year, choose to have had the moppet been between 16 and 19 years old at the Battle of Killahead Bridge, and we consider that the late 12th century (aka the time period of Wizards... supposedly, considering that it is not historically accurate) to be the latter half of that century, then Douxie would have to be somewhere between 834 and 886 years old. If we want a 16-year-old moppet and for the 900 years to be an accurate case of rounding, then the Battle of Killahead Bridge would have needed to be in 1183 at the earliest, which is accurate for the description of late twelfth century. If Douxie were to really be 919 in 2017, then the Battle of Killahead Bridge would have needed to take place somewhere from 1114 to 1117, aka the early twelfth century.

[2] Re: the argument that fanwork creators are not responsible for if an abuser uses their content to groom a victim. When I was a kid, the big scare was that strangers would lure off innocent children with candy. We were told not to go anywhere with a stranger, even if they had candy (or puppies, kittens, etc.) I don’t know how many kids have been hurt by strangers promising candy, nor do I know if this is something kids are still being warned about, but I do know that there isn’t some campaign against candy companies for daring to sell candy that an abuser would use against kids. This is because, as horrible as children being hurt is, it’s not the fault of the candy companies. It’s the fault of the abuser. And likewise, it’s not the fault of a fanwork creator if someone else uses their content to harm others.

PS: A side note since we’re discussing ages. I’ve been in this fandom for years, specifically on tumblr, AO3, and FFN as well as one of the discords. It wasn’t until the krexie discourse started that I started seeing people start calling Krel 14. I had seen people call him 15-16 in the past, because the fandom wasn’t sure if he and Aja were twins or had a minimum of a 9-month gap (assuming, of course, that Akiridions reproduce like humans do). That being said, before the discourse I never saw anyone treat Krel (or Aja, for that matter) like he had a canonical age. 14, however, seems to be something that stemmed from the wiki. You know, the same fan-run wiki that claims that Nomura’s full name is Zelda Nomura even though nowhere in the shows, books, games, or graphic novels is she ever called by that name. Yeah, the Arcadia Oaks-Pedia is not a reputable source. I’m going to give the wiki editors the benefit of Hanlon’s razor and hope that they were just going “well, since Krel is Aja’s younger brother and we’re assuming she’s 15-16 years old like the rest of the protagonists he must be 14-15 years old” and it was only after that that antis took the idea of Krel being 14 as canon and then ran off with it to be cruel and cause chaos.

[savrenim]

i am running thru ur tumblr to find ONE POST to cite for tvtropes, and i agree so hard with the soulmate stuff. what if my soulmate is an awful abuser, i want the choice to NOT be with them without some painful physical consequence or loss of perception if i don't date them just because the universe said we were "meant to be"... plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist and less like an ass pull so you could justify getting 2 characters together

oH gods this is something that I have SO many feelings about that probably is slightly informed by my own orientation and preferences, but. feelings. this got long so it's going under the cut

so there are three and a half major things that I have a problem with in terms of general soulmate tropes that are "there is one person who is your perfect romantic partner" (which to be fair I've seen a number of soulmate AUs do that trope with the addendum "although it only applies to a certain percentage of the population / not everyone has soulmates / everyone has soulmates but not everyone has SUPER PERFECT ROMANTIC soulmates" which at least somewhat avoids the statistic inevitability of abusive soulmates if combined with Fate Can See The Future And So Your Fated Soulmate Just Won't Be) and these complaints aren't even from the "I'm poly where's my poly rep" kind of place which is a whole 'nother bag of worms, but let's go:

1. I aggressively believe that love is a choice. Love is something that is built, not predetermined before you meet someone. There might be initial compatibility aspects going down when you first meet someone, but, like. statistically there are more than seven and a half billion people on this planet. If there is only a single person perfectly meant for you, again, statistically, you are not going to meet them, I've seen the figure thrown that on average a person will meet on the order 10,000 people in their lifetime but let's even go 100,000, you will meet 0.001% of the world's population. Unless you think some sort of divine coincidence or fate is guiding you to a soulmate which throws free will out the window and then I can't help you but, like. discarding the math, I think it is actively harmful to a relationship to believe that it can be sustained on chemistry or predetermined 'but we're perfect for each other' alone. It requires work. You choose who is in your life, you choose who stays in your life, you choose who you want to be important to you based on what they contribute to your life and what you contribute to theirs.

(I am assuming this ask is at least partially in reaction to my soulmate post, which actually the fic in question, a buried and a burning flame, has since gone up. I highly recommend reading Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard first, but besides the setup for arson wizards that alas is never used because the fire mage with a soulmate in question is Responsible, I decided to both tackle 'okay soulmarks trope too let's throw it in', which leads to the not-really-a-spoiler passage that appears fairly early on about actually the full layout (albeit with less detail on the 'yeah for mages it just helps ground their magic, nothing romantic about it' part) of my Soulmate Rules:

Soulmates existed, both in the Empire of Astandalas and across the Wide Seas. They just worked slightly differently in Vangavaye-ve than the rest of the worlds.

The rest of the Empire seemed to view soulmates as a monolith. From what Cliopher had been able to glean, the tradition was grounded in their magic. Magi had soulmates, or rather, magic-workers would each have a soulmate. Cliopher wasn't clear if all magic-workers had a soulmate, or if magic-workers simply could have one, but there was always a mage in soulmate pairs, and it was always a pair. There were no marks, no visible signs involved, as soulmates were something that were sensed with magic. They were permanent, intrinsic, and to be recognized immediately.

To Wide Sea Islanders, soulmates were a choice.

The soul-marks, lana and lani-voa, would appear the first time you touched someone that you had chosen to love, with the full knowledge that you loved them. Cliopher had the marks of his mother and father, his sisters, Basil and Dimiter, Bertie and Ghilly. His skin was covered lovingly with the colors of his love, marks that he had gotten used to concealing with long sleeves in Astandalas when he had gotten tired of the constant staring at his 'primitive tattoos'.

Buru Tovo had been the only one to give him lani-voa, a greater mark of the soul. The pattern, with its thick lines and twisting design in a deep blue, extended over the entirety of his left arm and shoulder. They were the dances of his family pressed onto his skin, and he had traced them over with reverent and feather-light touch for months after he had received them. A lani-voa marked someone who had changed your life for the better in a deep and irrevocable way. It was a great honor to have even one.

And now, with the gold stretching up his right arm, new patterns that he didn't recognize stretching up from a handprint of pure gold that was expanding the longer he held that first contact with Tor—

now he had two.

(Buru Tovo is Cliopher's great uncle, for context. In fact, everyone listed there is either a familial or platonic relationship, with a single relationship that used to be romantic but settled into platonic.))

so. yeah. Love is a choice! The Biggest Of Moods! any soulmate lore that undermines that is a Bad Message, in my opinion.

The emphasis also on platonic soulmates leads into my second point:

2. I have found in my life that platonic relationships that I have are and have always been as important if not moreso than the romantic relationships. the emphasis of a single romantic relationship as the most important relationship that you can be in maybe fits for some people, but as a generalization to absolutely everyone I think is toxic and harmful. and not just for aro people! I'm not aro, but I would be miserable to write off my friends as Less Important And Meaningful to me than my parter, whom I love with all my heart! (I've actually ended up in my life settling into what I call the red/blue/gold system for 'relationships that I treat with the importance that society treats romantic relationships', but that's a personal thing). The standard soulmate trope tends to really solidly deliver the thesis of "there is a single romantic relationship that is the single most important relationship in your life" and I just think that's a very bad thesis.

3. Finally, I think the emphasis on permanent/forever is a harmful one for relationships in general. People change. you drift closer to people or further away from them. you move, they move, your schedules change, your interests change, your life changes. if you are living with a romantic partner you're going to keep seeing each other every day, but that doesn't stop you from changing as a person, which means see Point 1 Love Is A Choice; but even if you choose to remain together, you are probably eventually going to Ship Of Theseus your entire relationship. I think it is an important message that if that happens and it is no longer a relationship that is as deeply positive as it once was in your life, you don't...have to keep it out of loyalty to what it once was.

It's okay for people to drift out of your life that were once the most important person in your life. It doesn't invalidate how important and meaningful that relationship used to be, and it isn't a betrayal to let yourself and them and your relationships change and evolve. The idea that something has to be forever for it to matter I think is the idea about soulmates that I disagree with the most. Probably because that was the hardest lesson for me to learn as a kid and a teenager, and the life lesson that I am proudest for learning.

3.5 your point 'plus if it's just a magic thing it "feels" more justified in-universe that soulmates exist' is exactly on the nose, literally I am unable to write anything without attempting to write down a universal theory of everything for How The World Works. if something soulmate-wise is going down even if it never appears on the page you bet your ass I have either figured out the general cosmology and theology of "are there gods or divine forces who have instituted this policy? if so, why? what purpose does it serve", or in the case of abaabf which already has such interesting magic rules in the original canon of "is there an evolutionary reason for soulmates to exist" which I don't go tracing out full evolutionary biology for a fic necessarily mostly because I would want the full evolutionary biology in canon to make sure mine is compliant enough but that sure as hell does translate to "if soulmates exist and it's not for the reason of Because Godlike Beings Said So, there better be a practical purpose". I find at least long-form soulmate fics (ie things With Plot and a Developed Setting that aren't just "let's do a ficlet with this well-known trope") that Do Not Feel Like They've At Least Thought About Why Soulmates Happen To Exist hurt my soul. which I think slightly intersects with my "I hate it when the rules of the universe/ laws of physics are human-centric" instead of "the base rules which were not designed for humans came first, and how the human world works arose in reaction to them" and. yeah. consistent desire to know at least for myself why things are set up the way that they're set up which gods ifmlam is wild and completely bullshit and pulls from quantum multiverse philosophy I started writing that thing when I was like. eighteen? nineteen? but at least it's there so I can be consistent.

as a caveat for everything above: I don't actually think that fiction, fanfiction in particular, needs to perfectly reflect what A Good Relationship or A Good Message About Relationships should be. it is a very human desire in a chaotic and confusing world to want a simple, absolute, binary thing to hold onto. fiction is a place for escapism or wish fulfillment or even exploring things that you wouldn't actually want in real life, I think that the movement in fandom/fiction that all of the messaging in your story should match the advice you'd give for a real-life setup is a bad and harmful one. mostly my opinions on soulmates and hence desire to do inversions of the soulmate trope in my fic and things like the red/blue/gold system and heavy emphasis on platonic relationships in original work that I'm writing is about a desire to see representation for me and the things I love and find important and my sort of relationships in the stories that are a big part of my life. but I am really glad that in doing so I seem to have struck a chord in other people, who maybe want to see the same thing!

[omni-scient-pan-da]

And They Were Oar-Mates

The Second Part of My Fic About The Oars by omni-scient-pan-da

For @burntuakrisp @wh33z @reaping-mae @jo-the-nerd @emo-bi-mess @taurianskies7 @the-dumbass-multishipper @pictures-that-are-kinda-cool and that one anon that left an ask that made me actually finish writing this thing (Edit: Find All Parts HERE)

It wasn’t often that Rowan got upset. For the most part, he was an angel, everyone he met loved him. Even when dealing with the nastiest of people, he met them with a smile and a bounce of his step, never letting anyone or anything get to him.

But of course, most people he interacted with had never hurt Killian.

After a raid on their villiage, Killian had made a deal with an evil warlock in order to save both his and Rowan’s life. The warlock helped the two of them escape and live to see another day, and in return, one day the warlock would call on Killian to be his faithful servant for the rest of time.

Over a decade passsed, and the two all but forgot about the deal Killian had made with the warlock. Until one day, the warlock came calling, and Killian disappeared. And now, Rowan was out to find the warlock and get his beloved husband back.

Rowan knew the task wouldn't be easy. First of all, he had no clue where Killian had gone, or where to find him, or how he was going to get him back from the warlock, or even if Killian wanted to be found in the first place.

Rowan shook his head. No, that was just the spell that made him want to leave... Killian would never just abandon me like that, not if he could help it... I just have to find a way to break the spell and then everything can go back to normal Rowan thought to himself.

He'd packed up as much supplies as he could carry, ready to journey for however long it took in order to find his husband.

Sorcery or not, nothing was going to stand in his way. Either he'd return home with Killian or he wouldn't come back home at all.

Rowan teared up as he looked around their home. It didn't really even feel like a home without Killian there with him. After all they'd been through together, Rowan refused to let some evil warlock stand in the way of his marriage.

With a shaky breath in, and one last look around the quiet empty house that had fallen silent since Killian's sudden disappearance, Rowan stepped out of the house, shutting the door behind him as he set out to find his lost husband.

First things first, he had to figure out where the warlock was hiding.

This shouldn't be too hard Rowan thought to himself. How many green flamed evil warlocks could there possibly be?

Apparently the answer was a lot.

Rowan started off by asking around town, trying to figure out if people had heard of the warlock that had taken his husband before. He couldn't remember much about the man, other than the fact that he had given his younger self a case of the heebie jeebies and had green fire-like magic.

One would've thought that with witches and wizards and warlocks having the ability to do literal magic, they would've picked a wider range of colors for their magic to appear in. But not only was green the most popular color, it also was the only lead Rowan had in regards to finding his husband. The warlock hadn’t exactly left a name after saving them from the raid on their village and leaving putting a curse on his husband. 

A pang of remorse shot through Rowan’s heart. He should’ve done something more to save him. He should’ve worked harder, done something to get Ian to stay, held onto him and never let go, found some way to undo the curse, something. Anything would’ve been better than letting him disappear.

But Rowan couldn’t focus on that now. Right now all he could do was focus on moving forward. The past was in the past and no matter how much it hurt, there was nothing he could do to undo it. The most important thing was that he tried to fix his mistakes from the past and pray that Killian would forgive him when he finally found him again.

After spending nearly an entire day walking around asking about warlocks with green magic, Rowan set out to the next town to try and find out if anyone there knew the answer. It was longer than he thought it would’ve been, he hadn’t realized how little he and Killian had actually travelled after getting married. They had liked the idea of settling down, maybe adopting a little girl in a year or so if they could...

Rowan sighed softly to himself. “I’ll get you back Ian... I don’t care how long it takes me, I’ll find you again.”

As the sun began to set, Rowan walked to the nearest inn to find a place to stay for the night. No matter how much he wanted to keep searching, he would be no good to Killian if he froze to death setting out on the cold roads at night. And he’d be even less help if he tried to push forward sleep deprived and hungry. 

After booking a room and setting down his belongings he headed down to the tavern at the base floor of the inn. He didn’t want anything to drink, neither him or Killian cared for it, but right now, Rowan just needed to be around people. The thought of being alone with his thoughts at the moment... It was just too much for him to handle.

He sat in one of the booths in the back, just watching the people go by and twisting the wedding ring on his finger. Somehow he had to find someone that knew the warlock. And then he’d be able to get his husband back.

~

Meanwhile, across the land, the matching ring was being twisted around another’s finger.

“It can’t stay on forever boy,” The warlock scowled as he glared at his mortal bodyguard. “The metal will interfere with the magic.”

“I still don’t see why it’s necessary for me to learn magic in the first place,” Killian shot back, continuing to twist the ring around his finger. “Wouldn’t that just make it easier for me to escape from here?”

The warlock laughed. “Like I would teach you anything useful enough to help you escape.”

Killian glared at the ground, twisting the ring around his finger a little faster, as if to remind himself that it was still actually there.

“Besides, you entered a magical contract when you shook my hand all those years ago child. And no matter how powerful you may get, there’s no way to break a magical contract. You swore to be my faithful bodyguard for the rest of your mortal life in exchange for helping you and your little boyfriend-”

“Husband,” Killian intergected, though the warlock just continued on like he hadn’t said anything at all.

“-out of that burning village.”

“That you were attacking.”

“I never said magical contracts were always fair, or that the circumstances under which they were formed was always perfect, just that there’s no way to break them,” The warlock smirked, and it took nearly all of Killian’s willpower not to step forward and punch him square across the jaw.

Not that it would actually do any damage to the warlock himself of course. There were safe guards against that. Any physical harm Killian tried to enact on the warlock would end up rebounding back on him, whether he tried to physically attack him or poison his food. Killian had had to learn that one the hard way.

“What does any of this have to do with me needing to learn magic?” Killian asked.

“You can’t be my bodyguard and not know how to protect me against magical attacks as well as physical ones. Otherwise you’d just be a little human flesh shield and you’d be dead after a few hits, and that’s really not fun for anyone involved.”

Killian glanced down at the ring on his finger once again. He had no idea where he was, or where Rowan was, if there was any hope of seeing him again, or even if Rowan would want to see him after all this. It was possible that Rowan would want nothing to do with him after all was said and done. After all, he was the one that had left him. Killian couldn’t blame him if Rowan had wanted to move on. To find a less cursed husband. He had said from the beginning that accepting the warlock’s deal was a bad idea and yet he had taken him up on it anyways.

The warlock scowled, impatient. “Look boy, either you can take the ring off now, or I can take it off for you, and since you can still learn counterspells with nine fingers, I’d suggest you take it off of your own violition that way you can keep all your fingers and that stupid metal band.”

Killian hesitated for a moment before slipping the ring off his finger and slipping it into his pocket. He felt as if he was betraying Rowan somehow, dishonoring his husband by taking off his wedding ring, especially under the circumstances. But he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either take the ring off or let the warlock take it from him forever, and at least this way he’d still be able to hang onto it.

“Alright fine then, teach me your countercurses or whatever, I’ll bite,” Killian said, his voice unwavering despite the way he felt inside.

The warlock smiled. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” his hands lit up, green glowing orbs floating in each one. “Now it’s time for the real work to begin.”

Author's Note: Haha, okay, so funny story, I was writing this because of this one anon and as I got to this point I realized it was a pretty good stopping point and since people are actually still interested in this I figured I'd finish the story and then lo and behold I realized that I should probably break the story up a little more, so there WILL BE a part three which I will link HERE when I find it and potentially a part four depending on how part three goes. I promise it will eventually have a happy ending and I'll tag the same people I did for this part in part 3 as well as anyone that reblogs or comments on either part one or part 2 (unless you don't want me to, then I totally get it, just lmk I won't be offended) Anyways, thanks for reading this far and hopefully part 3 will come out soon!

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Angst

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 remember me by hupsoonheng Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  31082 Tags: Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Obliviation, Established Relationship, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Legilimency, Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Reformed Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Good Draco Malfoy, Gardens & Gardening, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, POV Harry Potter Summary:  On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors. And then Harry doesn't come back. Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass Rated:  Mature Words:  20730 Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soul Bond, Red String of Fate, Heavy Angst, Terminal Illnesses, Major Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:  When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want. He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Every Breath You Take by hephaestiions Rated:  Mature Words:  19252 Tags: Major Character Death, Death (Harry Potter), Suicide, Child Death, Miscommunication, Angst, Angst and Tragedy Summary:  It starts and ends with Death. Scorpius was just caught in between. Like always. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Between Myth and Man by slytherco Rated:  Explicit Words:  16242 Tags: Veritaserum, Truth Serum, Mundane, London, Falling In Love, Lies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, This whole story is just Draco angsting really, Sexual Content, keeping secrets, Smoking, Bad Weather, References to Drugs, Making Out, One (1) Scared Little Sparrow, And also lots of texting Summary:  Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning. A story about the complexity of choices, repressed desires that come to the surface when we least expect them, and the utter hopelessness of truths built on a foundation of lies. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Boxes and a Scrapbook by dracogotgame Rated:  Mature Words:  30493 Tags: mention of divorce, flangst, Bill is a bro Summary:  One year after being accidentally bonded to each other, Harry and Draco are free to move on with their lives. But perhaps, what they needed was here all along. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Intertwined by bluefay Rated:  Explicit Words:  25086 Tags: Memory Loss, Memory Alteration, Accidental Bonding, Magic Gone Wrong, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Malfoy Manor, Self-Harm, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), Serious Injuries, But they're not very graphic so don't fret!, Self-Hatred, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Sort Of, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hate Sex, Childhood Trauma ,Flashbacks, St Mungo's Hospital, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Time, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  On May 3rd, 1998, Draco Malfoy wakes up with no memory of Voldemort, the war, or Harry Potter, his supposed boyfriend. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di Rated:  Explicit Words:  93189 Tags: H/D Fan Fair 2019, Secondary Theme: Travel Fair, Secondary Theme: Book Fair, Commercial Fisherman Draco Malfoy, Failed Writer Harry Potter, Depressed Harry Potter, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Muscular Draco Malfoy, Recluse Harry Potter, Angst, Smut, Drama & Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Wandless Magic, Boats and Ships, Finland (Country), Fishing, Redemption, School Reunion, Minor Draco Malfoy/Original Male Character(s), Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Suicidal Thoughts, Near Death Experiences, Magical Theory, POV Alternating Summary:  Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography. An invitation to the Hogwarts class of 1998's 15th reunion isn't welcomed by either of them, but neither could predict how the night, and their reunion, will upend their lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara Rated:  Explicit Words:  31160 Tags: Blindness, Blind Character, Blind Harry Potter, Disability, Physical Disability, Disabled Character, Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Love, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Dorks in Love, Friendship/Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Amortentia, Potions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotions, Emotional, Emotional Roller Coaster, Pining, Pining Harry Potter, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Romantic Friendship, Best Friends, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, POV Harry Potter, Patronus, Spells & Enchantments, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Jealousy, Jealous Harry Potter, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Spin the Bottle, Halloween, Party, Party Games, Mistletoe, Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Boys Kissing, Rough Kissing, Drunken Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Boys In Love, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, First Time, Explicit Sexual Content, Sex, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Emotional Sex, Awkward First Times, Sleeping Together, Literal Sleeping Together, Dancing, Showers, Masturbation in Shower, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, Dreams, Fantasizing, Desire, Self-Esteem Issues, Substance Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Lights Camera Drarry 2020, Lights Camera Drarry, LCDrarry, LCD - Freeform, The Way he looks, film inspired, Self-Prompt, Healing Summary:  When a hero defeats a villain, there's supposed to be a happily-ever-after... but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there's more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 You open always (petal by petal) by birdsofshore Rated:  Explicit Words:  65214 Tags: Post War, Rent Boy!Draco, Down-And-Out!Draco, Grimmauld Place, House magic, Portraits, First Times, Antagonism, Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Pining, Angst, UST, Kissing, Frotting, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Intergluteal Sex, Anal Sex, Homophobic Slurs And Attitudes, Internalised Homophobia, Derogatory Attitudes To Sex Workers, Some Mentions Of Sadistic Violence, Brief Thoughts Of Sexual Activity With A Sleeping Partner, Rough Sex, Brief Mention Of Harry With A Woman (Past Relationship), Mentions Of Dubious Consent In Connection With Sex Work, Community: hd_erised, Inexperienced Harry, Top Harry Potter, House Elves, Masturbation Summary:  Harry’s not the kind of person who pays for sex. He really isn’t. Until he is. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Solder by Oakstone730 Rated:  Explicit Words:  34547 Tags: potion/alcohol addiction, Recovery, Nipple Play, Rimming, Dirty Talk, Angst, PiningUST, Reconciliation, LoveForgiveness, Cursebreaker!Draco, Artist!Harry Summary:  Seven years ago, Harry disappeared out of Draco and Scorpius's life without a trace after Harry's addictions destroyed his and Draco's marriage. Now, Harry’s back, and Draco wants to believe he’s changed. But Harry isn’t the only one haunted by the past. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Three Months, Eleven Days and Nine Hours by sassy_cissa Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  sassy_cissa Tags: H/D Food Fair 2018, Angst, Romance, Paroled Draco Malfoy, Rebuilding Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy/, Harry Potter Friendship, Down and Out Draco Malfoy, Food Forager Draco Malfoy, Soup Kitchens, Happy Ending, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hungry Draco Malfoy Summary:  Broke and living in a one room hovel in Knockturn Alley, Draco hunts in rubbish bins for food. Nothing could be more humiliating, right? Unless you're Draco Malfoy... ❤️ Read on AO3

Texting You by ununquadius Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  6005 Tags: Major Character Death, text fic, draco is dead, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, or maybe hurt/no comfort, Everyday Life, Pets, Asexual Harry Potter, Indian Harry Potter, one penis drawing, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Loneliness, Drinking, Terminal Illnesses, blink and you missed them suicidal thoughts Summary:  After Draco's death, Harry can't let go so he keeps texting their private chat, updating him on his life and rambling about everything and anything until it almost feels like there's a possibility that, one day, a reply will come. Read on AO3

📜 Wake Up In The Night by p1013 Rated:  Explicit Words:  10483 Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Public Sex, Blow Jobs, Versatile Draco Malfoy, Versatile Harry Potter, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Facials, 69 (Sex Position), Coming Untouched, Love Confessions, Curses, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drinking, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Voyeurism, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Emotional Manipulation Summary:  In the days after the War ended, there were a great many things that were changed or changing, a great many things that somehow slipped beneath the notice of Ministry officials and healers from St. Mungo's and Aurors that were tasked with capturing fleeing Death Eaters. It was, after all, the end of the War, and much like war itself, the clean up was heartbreaking. Lives had been lost. The world as they knew it had been changed irrevocably. In the grand scheme of things, there were more important things to worry about than Draco Malfoy's sudden, inexplicable inability to feel love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Coated in Rust and Blood by crazyparakiss Rated:  Mature Words:  2429 Tags: Mpreg, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Angst, Violent Sex, Self-Hatred, Grief/Mourning, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  No one escapes the nightmares. That’s what his headshrinker tells Harry every time he tries to unpack the baggage he was handed from infancy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Here Without You by  gracerene Rated:  Explicit Words:  26869 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Background Het, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Epistolary, Love Letters, Dirty Letters, An Ode to Draco's Bum, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Implied Switching, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Explosions, Harry Potter & Parvati Patil Friendship, Loneliness, Denial, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  It's been seven years since the end of the Second Wizarding War with Voldemort, and a new Dark Lady has taken over in nearby Ireland. Harry feels compelled to volunteer to fight on the front lines, but war is never safe, and Harry has a lot—including his blissfully happy relationship with Draco—to lose. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Orion in the Sky by space_wingding Rated:  Explicit Words:  30709 Tags: Bookshop Owner Draco Malfoy, Coffee, Village life, Slow Burn, Pining, Denial, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Jigsaw Puzzles, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Post-Hogwarts, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Fatal Curse, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Hospitalization, Death, Character Death, Unhappy Ending, St Mungo's Hospital, Grief, mentions of anal sex, Chronic or Terminal Illness, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forgot to remember you by Andithiel Rated:  Mature Words:  1753 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Auror Partners, Magical Accidents, Memory Loss, Partial Memory Loss, Getting Together, DreamsPining, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Rated M for language, There's not any real stuff going on Summary:  Harry was hit with a spell that made him forget the week before he was hurt. Most of his memories have come back, but he has a niggling suspicion that he did something wrong. Why else would his Auror partner (and the object of his desires) go from friendly to hostile? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 On the Last Day by trishjames Rated:  Explicit Words:  53481 Tags: Mystery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Unreliable Narrator, Drama, Dramatic Irony, Flashbacks, Non-Linear Flashbacks, Memory Loss, Horror Elements, Suicidal Ideation, Depression, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Occlumency as a Coping Mechanism, Panic Attacks, Discussion and Depiction of Mini Seizures, mention of overdoses, Revenge, Repression, Science, Neurology & Neuroscience, Neurological damage, Medicine, Potions, Original Characters - Freeform, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Somewhat Bond!Fic, Strong Friendships, Strong Women, Maternal love, Department of Mysteries, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), The Love Chamber, The Death Chamber, Death Potion, Amortentia, The Veil, Near Death Experiences, Souls, Major character death - Freeform, Death, forced drugging, Mind Control (Imperio), Murder, Vomit, Medical Procedures, Consent, Amoral Behaviour, Unethical Behaviour, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Possession, Ghost Sex, True Love Conquers All, ghost!harry, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Auror Harry Potter, Unspeakable/Scientist Hermione Granger, Unspeakable/Scientist Draco Malfoy, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Psst...angst with a happy ending.. Summary:  Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Poland | A Faint Glow of Hope by EvAEleanor Rated:  Mature Words:  6123 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Summer Solstice, Solstice, Curses, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Healer Hermione Granger, Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom, Angst, Flowers, Slavic mythology, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mythology References. Folklore, poland - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry Summary:  On Draco’s 25th birthday, somebody attempts to curse him, but Harry Potter jumps between them and is hit instead, with unexpected consequences. Potter is running out of time, and they both embark on a race against time to find the only cure that could save Harry. Little do they know they will need to face a myriad of magical creatures and their own feelings on the way. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Grounds for Divorce by Tepre Rated:  Explicit Words:  122217 Tags: Slow Burn, Pining, UST, Anal Sex, brief but all the same enthusiastic rimming, One (1) lemon tree, Accidental Bonding, And I mean like U! S! T!, Jealousy, Deals with Trauma, They both top at some point, ron is a good friend, Draco is a Good Cook, Dubious Consent due to the Accidental Bonding, The actual SLOWEST burn, Hurt/Comfort, Have I mentioned UST? Cannot overstate this it's like A LOT, First there's frottage, And then there's more sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, and just a lot of sex, sex on a bed, sex in the shower, sex on the floor, Sex on a settee, In other news they go to Egypt, Teddy is a Small Bean, There is one (1) cat, and one (1) happy ending Summary:  Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 At Evening's End by manixzen Rated:  Explicit Words:  31055 Tags: Pre-Relationship, Angst, Azkaban, Hurt/Comfort, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Slow Burn, Post-Hogwarts, Friendship, Past Child Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Auror Harry Potter, Inmate Draco Malfoy, Prison, Auror Ron Weasley Summary:  When the dementors are removed from Azkaban, a compromise has to be made for the prison to remain secure and wizard-kind to feel safe. Harry and Ron find themselves assigned to a rotation as guards during their first year as Junior Aurors as a part of the new system. Harry finds his values challenged in the harsh environment, but an unexpected friendship may carry him through this difficult year. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 all you ever did was wreck me by SailorChibi Rated:  Mature Words:  10807 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, draco has PTSD, Harry has PTSDN, ightmares, Animagus, Harry is an animagus, prison break - Freeform, Touch-Starved, affection starved, Fear of Death, fear of touch, touch repulsed, Trauma, Aftermath of Torture, harry doesn't want anyone else to die, harry is very angry at the world, Protective Harry, harry had to grow up too soon, Possessive Harry, harry wants to protect draco, house arrest, Ministry of Magic, ministry of magic has gone power hungry, Fear of Magic, draco is scared of magic, it's been used for too much evil, Draco Malfoy Feels, Sad Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy, Sharing a Bed, platonically sharing a bed, First Kiss, Hugging, Cuddling, Platonic Cuddling, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, death is scary, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Endingh, appyish ending, might be a little bittersweet, but it will be ok I swear Summary:  After the war, the Ministry decides to make a clean go of it and sentences all Death Eaters to death. After a year spent imprisoned beneath the Ministry, with his mother safely in France, his father dead and only the Aurors who hate him for "company", Draco is waiting for his time to die. Harry gets to him first. ❤️ Read on AO3

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter One

Chapter 1/?

Chapter 1 [Here] - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. The crew finally land back into the world after the events of Ruxomar. That should be a good thing, right? But Wag is feeling the burden of everything that has happened to him, and he didn’t even get his magic back to boot.

It’s hard to be happy when life has been so shitty.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: I’ve been working on this since September? of 2019! I have 5 chapters done and still going. I wanted to wait to post this until I was done with it, but my impatience has gotten the better of me.

@the-moon-pal I’m coming for your crown king >:)

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They’d made it home a couple weeks ago, to the land of Mianite. It’d been such a relief. They got to meet the rest of the alts, got to watch Dianite meet the other gods- and cringe at the tension that crackled between them- got to find all their homes again. For once, in the past-however-long, there was peace. They could relax.

So why did Wag feel like utter shit?

Right. Because he literally got the worst part of the deal.

He thought his powers would come back when they got home. And they did, for a few hours. Not the full range, but a lot of it. It felt good to be full of magic again. It felt like he was himself.

But then things started to fall apart. Martha grew distant. His powers fell away in fits and bursts. He realized that the rest of FyreUK had moved on after they made amends in Ruxomar. They found their way on. Without him.

Nothing was the same, he realized, as he spent more time around the place they had called ‘home.’

Spark had done what he did best: built a city. Well, more like a village. What had once been a place of buildings thrown about at random and mostly open plains was now sparsely populated. Neatly arranged shops and a few houses took up the space next to the beach. New people had even begun to show up.

Everything was changing around him, yet he was stuck holding onto the past. Holding onto his wizardhood, to his brotherhood, to a partner that was farther now than ever, and- worst of all- he was still holding onto the hope that everything would just… go back. To how it was.

To when he was important.

Well, like fuck is he was going to sit around and loathe his existence. He could at least try to do something. Swear to Athar, he wasn’t going to turn into a lump of depression just because he couldn’t handle change! He’d rather be a walking mass of depression! That way he could at least pretend he was being productive.

Potions or spellbooks? A question as old as time. Potions were a staple in his life. If there was one thing that would never leave him, it was his ability to make fucking potions. Like, fucking make potions. Not potions to help people fuck. On the other hand, the more he poured through spellbooks, the more likely he was to get closer to finding out how to get his powers back.

Maybe his powers left when FyreUK left, taking all the glory of Athar with it. But that was too terrible of a thought, so that got chucked in the ‘not-today-bitch’ bin. Which was a handy dandy mental bin that stored all of his worst problems.

He never could fit himself in it, though.

So potions it was.

Now that he was out of the business of magic, most of his money came from his potion making. He had made yet another little wizard- alchemist? Potion master?- tower. Plopped some advertisements in el Pueblo de Spark and took orders to pass the time. He had to fund his botany experiments somehow.  Someone had to introduce weed into this world, that might as well be him.

If he was going down in history for something, that wasn’t ‘Word Renowned Wizard Extraordinaire’, then ‘The Guy who Made Weed’ would sure as hell work. 

Wag pulled up his log of orders. Luck, luck, dexterity, healing, luck, love- yeah, those didn’t really work but he’d make it anyways-, strength, luck, yadda, yadda, yadda. Lots of luck. He could probably get away with making a batch or two of luck potions, then work through the rest.

He spared a glance outside. Spark’s little hut-square town was beginning to develop into a pleasant little fishing hole. Surprisingly- or not, given how deep the waters were nearby- the place was actually a fairly hot place for single fish to mingle. Warm waters, nice and deep, lots of cover, and not much human interference. Until now, anyway.

Either the fishermen were starting to get a fair amount of revenue going or they really needed help. Luck potions were among his most expensive. The ingredients were hard to acquire regardless of how you made it.

Rabbit’s foot? Morally and physically hard to get a hold of. Rainbow trout? Terribly rare. ‘Star-light Fruit’? Not even confirmed to exist.

His method was a little more straightforward. A butt load of four-leaf clovers, a tiny bit of alcohol, and a fuckton of glitter. Clovers for the magic, glitter for the look, and alcohol for the feeling of being lucky.

It was a very bullshit potion.

It took forever to find the clovers, let alone collect them.

Athar give him strength.

Giving one last look outside, he tucked his log book in his cloak. Then he went and rummaged through his chests.

Monotony here he comes.

~~~

Wag was halfway through his second batch of luck potions when a distant knock came from his door, followed by the sound of bells. If not for the bells he’d have ignored the knocking. With a stretch, he putzed down the stairs. The many flights of stairs.

He missed being able to make elevators.

Opening the door revealed one Mr. Sparklez, hair tousled but otherwise neatly groomed. He was relaxed, if not a little winded from his trek up the hill Wag claimed as his own.

Wag smiled. “Hey Sparklez, what brings you up to my tower of terror today? Here for a chat or a swanky danky potion?”

He gestured for Jordan to head inside and get comfortable, but the man waved him off. “Actually,” Jordan started, “I was wondering if you’d seen Martha? I needed to ask her something and I haven’t seen her all day. Figured she’d be with you.”

Ah, so Jordan wanted to find Martha.

Ouch.

Doing his best to ignore the squeeze in his chest, Wag kept his smile firmly in place. “No, I don’t think I have. She, uh.” He paused, going for a nonchalant shrug. “She doesn’t come around the tower all that often. I’d ask Spark instead. She tends to hang around him more. Her good ole pops and all, y’know. They do have a lot to catch up on.” Wag tried to ignore how weak his words sounded. He didn’t want it to sound weird that Martha wouldn’t come around, but instead he just sounded pathetic.

Great.

Jordan gave Wag an awkward smile, seemingly uncomfortable with the sad display. “Ah, alright. I’ll ask around for Spark.” 

He turned to leave but caught himself before he was fully turned away. Jordan chewed on his words. “Are you-” His eyes swept over Wag. “How have you been? We don’t see you as much anymore. Other than Tom, I guess, but it's hard to get rid of Tom once he decides you’re friends, y’know?”

“I’ve been,” Wag wanted to laugh, but pushed through the sentence, “swell, thank you. I would get out more, but I’m always so busy potion making. Gotta pay the bills somehow.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t the exact truth, but he did spend a lot of time on potions.

Letting his shoulders settle, Jordan gave a small laugh. “Who would press a wizard to pay bills? Someone who wants to catch on fire, I’m sure.” He opted for a friendly smile. “If you ever want to hang out or something, let me know. I’ve been getting kind of bored between Spark telling me how to be a better champion of Ianite and living in an actual, peaceful society.”

Wag waved after Jordan as he began his descent. Yeah, a wizard. A frown tugged at his face while he shut the door.

A real fucking wizard.

~~~

Making potions was rather methodical. Each step took a certain amount of time, each item had certain effects, meshed certain ways with other items. It was like following a recipe, but with bigger consequences for messing up. Cooler results, though.

Wag had just finished melting down the clovers he’d gathered and extracting the essence- which is to say he lit it on fire after sprinkling a generous amount of blaze powder on it- when Jordan had stopped by. Which was convenient, since he needed to wait for the weird half-liquid half-slime to cool off enough to move it. The awkward potions, glitter, and alcohol were already prepped. Now all he needed to do was mix shit together.

Oh joy.

At the very least, it was satisfying to roll the clover essence into little balls to plop into an awkward potion and then watch them dissolve. The clover gave the essence a natural, healthy green color while the blaze powder, which clung to even the most thoroughly washed slime, gave it something of a yellow highlight. Golden glitter gets dumped in to make it feel like you were about to drink something special. Yes, the glitter was edible. No, most people didn’t realize he put glitter in this shit. Then the alcohol was for that background buzz. It was meant to dull the senses just enough to trick people into believing, wholeheartedly, in whatever god-forsaken abomination he just made.

Sorry. What ever divinely crafted, totally safe potion he’d just made.

Sure, he didn’t test it himself, but it seemed to work well enough for the people he gave it to. So where was the harm?

It was fine.

The next part was perhaps the most boring. And he’d spent all day yesterday crawling on the ground looking for four-leaf clovers.

Tagging and packaging. Writing names on slips of paper, tying them to the potion, putting it in a small, padded box to prevent any breaks. Rinse, repeat. It was annoying, wasted money, all that jazz, but it helped the look. Who wants to be handed a regular old potion, by hand, when you can get it in some majestic looking box to really add some sparkle to your magic?

Maybe Ruxomar rubbed off on him in a bad way.

In any case, the look was important, and by Athar was he going to make it look fucking fantastic.

Unfortunately, this task was also terribly, horribly monotonous. Worse yet, it left room for thinking. And thinking was Wag’s least favorite pastime since floating in the Void. Especially since floating in the Void.

It lead to him thinking deeply about himself and Athar knows that most of his life problems could be traced right back to that. His mistakes, his fuck ups, his shortcomings, all of it came back to him thinking way too hard about himself. 

Gross.

Instead, he tried to run over potion recipes in his mind. Or any recipe, really. All the different ways to make a fire resistance potion when you don’t have magma cream. Counting how many potions used lemongrass. Figuring out what potions would make it more likely to catch fish. Literally anything. As long as it was potions, it was fine.

Not about himself, not about Athar, not about wizards, and not about… Martha.

Yeah, that last one would be a one hit k-o. 

But now that his mind had touched on the subject, it dug in. Sunk it's claws into the delicate stability of his mind. Dramatic, he knows, but that’s how it felt. It was like the more he tried to get the thought out of his mind, the further it burrowed into him. Awful, painful, and not even worth the effort.

Martha… clearly didn’t care about him anymore. Or, well. He winced at the thought. She didn’t love him like she used to. If she, uh. Did in the first place. But this was old news. This was something he pondered after she seemed to avoid him like the plague, seemed to grimace when she looked over and saw him and not him.

Steve.

The name sat heavy in his head. They hadn’t meshed well, ‘specially where Martha was concerned. But they managed, for her, because they loved her.

Wag felt guilty, looking back on it now. For stealing their time together, for messing with their relationship. They hadn’t gotten to be together enough, had lost too much time before-

Yeah, he didn’t like thinking about Steve more than he didn’t like thinking about Martha. Wag didn’t feel like he deserved to think the name, let alone put himself up against his image. Steve was a hero. He rebelled against Helgrind in a cunning, intelligent way, he was selfless in more aspects than any of the heroes that appeared in Ruxomar, and he was the one to sacrifice the most. To sacrifice it all.

Where did Wag stand against that?

Honestly, it was no wonder Martha couldn’t stand to look at him. He was just a reminder of Steve, a reminder that she didn’t have Steve. That she had him instead. 

Had she ever loved him?

That wasn’t the point. The point was that Martha was hurting, trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind in Ruxomar. What she had lost. And Wag wasn’t doing anything to help. He was stuck up in his tower, making potions, trying to forget about everything that he wasn’t.

He should try to look for her.

But the last time he did, he got turned away. She was “catching up with her father.” She was “busy settling into the new world.” She was “trying to get a grip on her new goddesshood.”

Wag was persistent, but even he could get the hint.

By Athar, he got the hint. “I don’t want to see you.” “Don’t come near me.” “You can’t help me.” 

He wondered if Spark was doing anything to help her or if he was also caught up in everything that had happened. From what he had learned about the man in Ruxomar, he was devoted to his wife. No, he gave everything for his wife. Learning she was dead after working up everything to see her again?

He had played it well. When he heard the news, Spark kept strong, only letting his tears show. If he had gone home later after parting with Martha, who had her own grief and guilt, crumbling on the inside no one would know. And if he had locked himself away and let everything loose, let himself break, none would be the wiser. But they could guess, they could give him a passing glance, a thoughtful frown.

Wag wondered if he still carried that grief around with him.

Spark had taken to trying to discipline Jordan to be a better champion of Ianite. It had made the man uncomfortable with getting told he could be a better follower and all. Or rather, having it implied that he wasn’t the best follower. Spark was stubborn in ‘training’ the champion of Ianite to be a full fledged follower.

Still, Jordan didn’t appreciate the sentiment.

Wag understood. Having the husband of the very goddess you watched die get on your case about being a better follower? When the crushing weight of guilt hadn’t fully let off your shoulders? He wondered if Spark hadn’t taken to coaching Jordan to make himself feel better, to remind himself that he would have kept Ianite safe, that he would have fixed the world before it broke out from under them.

It sounded like torture.

But it helped settle Wag. Call him selfish, but he felt better knowing other people had real problems, real grief, to deal with. Sure, Wag had his hang up with Martha. Yeah, he had his issues with being-a-wizard-yet-not. But he wasn’t as close to neck deep as Spark was. Like Martha was.

He wished belittling his problems made them feel less suffocating.

Martha. Martha was still pushing him away. And he was letting her. What did that say about him? About their relationship?

A sigh heaved out of his chest. It was like someone stuck a large rock right in his rib cage, tucked neatly between his lungs. Hard, heavy, and an all around burden. Potions. He needed to think about potions.

His hands betrayed him with a subtle shake. How many names did he have left to write? How many boxes did he have left to pack? Fuck if he knew. He had to keep counting, to find a way to wrap up all his issues, his panic, his fear, into a nice little package and tuck it away like a forgotten gift.

Athar help me, Wag tried to control his thoughts, I might drive myself insane by the end of the year.

As if on cue, another knock at his door broke his thoughts. He tried not to feel relieved to rush away from his potion packaging. He was fine, cool as a cucumber.

Throwing open the door, he came face to face with his second visitor of the day. Tom.

Tom was standing in front of his door almost uncertainly, like he wasn’t quite sure why or how he got there. He took one sweep over Wag’s unhidden face and a determined, focus look set in on his own.

“We,” Tom looped his arm around Wag’s in a sudden movement, “are going out somewhere. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.” 

Eyebrows shooting up, Wag let himself be dragged from his house with an aborted motion to close the door behind him. He mournfully watched his door stay ajar. Hopefully no one else ventured up the hill today, otherwise he might be down a few potions.

“Why?” Wag turned his attention back to Tom, who was resolute in his intention of pulling Wag away to Athar knows where.

A grin was shot in his direction. “You look like you need to get out of the house. Also, I’m real fuckin’ bored and you’re clearly in need of some company.”

A wry smile snuck on Wag’s face. “Oh lucky me. We should get some tea, live up to our trademark.”

Tom nodded. “Absolutely. Let’s hit town. Fuck it up. Flaunt our hero-ness and get shit faced.”

“Let’s not get shit faced, and especially not get kicked out of town for making a ruckus.” Wag fondly rolled his eyes. “I do quite like living here and it’d be a shame to have to follow you around to make sure you don’t die.”

Tom gave a mocked offended gasp, free hand coming up to his forehead as he leaned away. “How dare you! I’ll have you know I’d never die if I didn’t live in a community. I’m a rogue, don’t you know.” He sniffed. “I can easily hold my own in the dangerous wilds.”

“Without anyone to pester and annoy?”

“I can pester anything!”

Wag bit his lip to stop a laugh. Tom always brought such energy with him. It was refreshing. Maybe he was right, he just needed some company.

He wouldn’t say that to his face, though.

“I suppose so,” Wag continued, “You are rather persistent. I bet you could annoy the sun into setting early.”

“Nah, I’d blow that fucker up instead.” Tom winked, snuggled back up to Wag, effectively trapping his arm. “I still think we should get shit faced. Drink our sorrows into the drain, throw them up another day.” 

Wag mock gagged. “I’d rather keep them down the drain, thank you. Besides, what a waste of alcohol. If I’m drinking, I’m drinking to keep it down. Not!” He quickly cut Tom off, “That I want to go out drinking.” He eyed the sky, giving a disapproving look to Tom when he saw that it was still early afternoon. “No one should be getting drunk before the sun touches the horizon.”

With a pout, Tom leaned into Wag’s side. “Lame. I suppose,” he drew out the word, “we could go get some good old fashioned tea. Call it a pre-game without the game.”

Wag rolled his eyes. He wasn’t looking to out game his issues. That wasn’t a solution. It’d just make him turn into a sad drunk and give him a headache in the morning.

This is why he needed weed back.

But also, he didn’t want to develop another problem. Gotta keep it clean. For now.

Tom still had his own plans, alcohol or no alcohol. “I find when I’m feeling down that doing something batshit stupid makes me feel better. We should go fishing with our bare hands- no, with only our teeth- and no shirt on. Attract ladies and gents to us alike. Are they looking at our finely chiseled chests or our daring courage? Who’s to say.”

“You are far from chiseled my friend. Try soft.” Wag poked Tom in the stomach jokingly. “And who said that I’m feeling down?”

“Hey!” Tom swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know I’m more ripped than you’ll ever be!” He huffed, squeezing Wag’s arm. They walked in silence for a moment, now upon the town. After wandering the street for a second, Tom spoke again, quieter. “I had this feeling.” Wag eyes him. “It was weird. My gut was telling me to check in on you. And then when you opened the door it was written on your face. Even I’m not dumb enough to miss that.” 

Wag heard the unspoken I was worried carried in Tom’s words. Talk about soft. He squeezed Tom’s arm back. “Oh wow, a gut feeling?” He teased lightly, “I think it was just you missing my magical presence. It is hard to go too long without seeing me.” If only that were true. “But I’m here now, and we can go do something absolutely stupid, just for you.”

They share a smile, a quiet thank you floating between them.

Tom gets a glint in his eyes. “Does this mean we can go catch fish with our bare hands?”

“I suppose so.” Wag drawled. “How else are we going to show off our toned figures?”

That got him a laugh, one concerningly maniacal, and he was dragged between houses.

Yeah, he might regret this.

Tom turned and gave him a smile that was all teeth and no common sense. He paused next to the shore, a little ways off from the docks. Shucking his clothes, one Tom Syndicate stood proudly in his underwear, unconcerned about the effect of sunlight on zombified skin. People gave them a look of distaste.

Oh, he was definitely going to regret this. 

~~~

Soggy was one way to describe how Wag felt. Wet as shit was another. All in all, he was rather pleased with himself and the rather large, shiny fish sitting in his lap. The fish which so happened to be a fair amount larger than Tom’s.

“Oh fuck you.” Tom spluttered around a mouthful of fish, laying down an arm’s length away. He had gathered quite an amount of fish, a solid number for catching something with your mouth alone. None of them were that large. In fact, most were an average, if not slightly below, size.

Wag eyed the pile smugly. He may have only caught two, but damn if he didn’t go big.

“Well, it seems that I’ve caught myself a winner.” He tried not to look too pleased. The look on Tom’s face told him he failed.

Tom scoffed, letting the fish fall to the sandy floor with a wet fwop. “You got lucky! Clearly, quantity wins the game here. Sure, you caught one big, old, dumb motherfucker, but I caught a dozen other dumbass fish! I should get the win.”

“Wasn’t size the goal here?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before Tom could fire back, a voice from behind interrupted him. “I think the two fools sitting in their underwear soaked to the bone are both losers.”

Wag tilted his head back to see Tucker standing with his hands in his pockets, back slouched, and an easy smile on his face, standing just where the sand turned to grass. Next to him was one lovely fox lady, Sonja herself, and one Sparkle butt, Jordan.

Nice to see the gang all here.

Tom sat up. “How dare you! I’ll have you know we are the best fishers on the island!”

Tucker raised a single eyebrow. “Really now? Are all the other fishers out at sea today?”

“Well excuse you, Mr. Boner. I’ll have you know we caught all of this,” Tom sweeps his arm across their score. “And I think that’s quite the haul.”

“How long did it take you?”

“Fuck you.”

Tucker snickered, moving closer to poke his foot into Tom’s side. “That’s what I thought.”

Wag, meanwhile, was carefully moving his prize to the side so he could stand up. Brushing the sand off himself, he exchanged a smile with Sonja and a nod with Jordan. Sonja gave him a good natured headshake. “And here I thought you were smarter than this.”

Jordan’s eyes trailed down Wag’s chest before flittering away. “Right down to your boxers? Tom must have gotten you good.”

“Well, I was fairly set on getting a nice cup of tea and walking across the beach, hand in hand like real lovers, but Tom was far more intent to go all macho and catch fish with his mouth alone.” Wag leaned in with a hand against his mouth to give a stage whisper. “Between you and me, I think he’s trying to step up his oral game.” He winked.

Jordan groaned, giving Wag what he thought to be a rather dramatic eye roll. That wasn’t even the worst he had to offer, and he’d given him such an easy setup! Sonja waggled her eyebrows and giggled when Tom butted in. “It’ll never be as good as yours dear.” He batted his eyelashes mock innocently.

The group burst into laughter. Tucker stepped closer, swinging an arm around his vaguely damp shoulders. “Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about man. It’s been a hot second. Almost thought you’d drank the wrong potion and kicked it or something.” 

Wag nodded seriously. “Quite the real possibility. Why, just yesterday I almost drank real glitter! The kind you’re not supposed to eat.”

“Been there,” Sonja added, “I thought I was going to die when I did. Just gave me a very colorful trip to the bathroom.”

Tom grinned as he moved to elbow Jordan in the side. “I bet our good ole Captain here wouldn’t know the difference. How else did he get his namesake, right Mr. Sparkley Butt?”

“Hardy har,” Jordan gave Tom a fondly disgusted look. “The name’s Captain Sparklez, that ‘namesake’ came from you giving me a stupid nickname.”

They fell into more chatter, giving Tom and Wag the time to put their clothes back on, Tom not caring that he was still wet as he put his suit back on, while Wag just slung his cloak over himself. No point in putting pants on over wet underwear.

The group, all now clothed to some extent, began to wander back towards town. Wag was more than content to listen to Tom ramble on. He would get interrupted by Tucker when he said something ‘incredibly stupid’ and, more rarely, by Jordan, who would correct some technical thing that Tom clearly did not give a shit about.

Sonja drifted next to him, giving Wag a conspiratorial smile. “You’re looking mighty fine in just a robe and boxers. Is this the bedroom Wag special? Or is that sans boxers?” 

“The bedroom Wag special is whatever you want it to be.” He winked. “It’s magic all around.”

They exchanged a laugh, falling silent again.

Wag knew that wasn’t what Sonja really wanted to talk about.

She looked back at him, a warm look in her eyes. “It’s nice. To see you out. Been a while, y’know?” Sonja stretched her arms out in front of her. “It really has been a bit since we’ve talked. And since you’ve left the house. But honestly?” Her tail swishes behind her. “I could have made a few more treks up that damn mountain myself.”

Shaking his head, Wag elbowed her side lightly. “It is a fairly tall hill, but I think mountain is a bit of an overstatement.” It was, in fact, a bitch of a climb, but Wag didn’t think it was that bad. He’d put the tower just on the other side of the Glowstone Forest, across from the Priest’s house. (What was it called again? Forest of the Void? Abyss Forest? Obsidian Trees? Yeah, he didn’t know or care). 

Left unsaid was a ‘That’s okay, you don’t have to go out of your way’.

He received an eye roll. “Please, the only trek worse than that is up to where Tucker’s first house was. I was so happy when we moved it down the mountain. Well, into.”

It’s no trouble, her words left hanging, I don’t mind.

Wag huffed. How dare she be considerate. “You know what’s worse than a trek up a mountain? A trek up a mountain to get some rare flower, only to be spited by the universe and have not a single flower growing up there. Honestly, I could use some help from someone so used to climbing mountains.” A smirk pulled at his face. “Or maybe just send someone up there for me.”

We could always hang out when I’m playing master botanist. If you’d like.

Sonja smiled at him, but couldn’t resist getting a dig in. “Aw, did you skip leg day? Have some chicken legs over there? That’s alright, I’m sure someone,” she tilts her head, eyes sweeping past the buildings around them, “would be willing. Get a nice little lackey so you can rest your old bones at home and complain about how the cold makes your joints stiff.” 

“How dare you,” Wag sniffed, hand held up to his heart. “I’ll have you know, my joints are just fine in the cold! Some of us just aren’t made of the cold, little miss fox.”

Sonja, ever so mature, stuck her tongue out at him.

They kept up some conversation, occasionally stopping to listen in to whatever Tom was saying. Wag, for a moment, realized that he had missed this. Missed them. That even though he wanted to avoid all the new things in this world, he’d always have his friends.

A quiet, hopeless voice asked if they’d leave him too.

~~~

There was nothing quite like hiking up a hill, in only your boxers, a little buzzed, during the night time. The pure amount of skeletons that had sniffed around looking for a cheap shot alone was bad enough, but the fact that his legs already hurt from struggling to fish with just his mouth without drowning? Yeah, it felt more like he was climbing up a mountain that was near vertical.

Fuck gravity.

A pit of warmth had settled in his chest a couple hours ago. Whether it was the alcohol that Tucker, of all people, had got the group into drinking or just the effect of being with friends for a while, Wag felt content. Not a common feeling in recent times. It was nice.

Really nice.

Upon reaching his door, his mind scrambled to figure out why it was left slightly open. He shrugged. As long as nothing was missing or stolen, he didn’t really care.

He made his way inside- making sure to actually close the door behind him- and wandered over to the stairs. Ah, his mortal enemy. Between being a wizard way back when and the magic rampant in Ruxomar, he had gotten way too used to avoiding stairs. Now it was a chore to move up and down the tower. But his bed was upstairs and he was not sleeping on the crappy couch he shoved into the lobby for guests or customers again.

So stairs it was.

By the time he got halfway up the stairs, he wanted to quit. Why, in Athar’s name, did he put his room on the third highest level? Stupidity, that’s why. The view was so not worth it.

When he actually made it up to the correct floor, he pushed the door to his room open, chucked his clothes to one side, and collapsed in bed. Now this, this was worth it. Soft, plush, warm, and very much without skeletons.

The less arrows being shot at him the better.

A soft chuckle caught his attention. Or rather, killed the peace he had wrapped around himself mere hours earlier.

He didn’t move. Not because he was scared. No, he knew who was in his room. He just wanted to pretend, for a moment, like this was something he was used to.

Like coming home to his lover being home wouldn’t surprise him.

The bed dipped beside him and his robed and boxer-ed glory. A hand ran through his hair. Wag tried not to tense.

“Seems like you had a good night out.” Her voice was like silk, soft and pleasant on his ears. “Hopefully they didn’t hassle you too much.”

Wag breathed. His chest was tight, emotion punching at his ribs. “Yeah,” he said, “It was nice to have some time with them again.”

All of this felt so forgein, now. To have her here. Was she here? Or did he drink more than he had originally thought. Shit.

Martha scratched his head. “I do have to say, I’m surprised that you actually left the tower. You’ve been holed up here for so long I thought I’d have to drag you out.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Or maybe he was imagining it. His head was a mess and he wasn’t quite sure what he was making up and what was real.

It was kind of pathetic.

He laughed. “Yeah, Tom showed up and dragged me out. Not complaining though, I had a lot of fun. It was nice to take off from work. Making potions gets boring.”

So did sitting in your own depressing thoughts, but that was more exhausting than boring.

“Oh,” Wag turned his head to face Martha, looking up at her. The darkness made her hair stand out. It looked like a halo around her face, bringing out her lovely lilac eyes. She was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. But there was something heavy in her eyes that she tried to wipe away when his own reached her. “Jordan was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

Martha blinked and the heaviness was gone. Ish. He knew it was there. Somewhere.

“Ah, no.” She frowned. “I’ll have to see what he needs tomorrow.”

He nodded. To be honest, Wag wasn’t convinced Martha was actually sitting here with him. Which was kind of sad. Very sad.

“I can come with, if you’d like,” Wag rushed out, trying not to sound desperate. “We haven’t had much time together, which is understandable with your dad being around and all the stuff you need to do. And, y’know, it’d be nice to walk with you for a bit.”

Oh, he sounded so desperate.

Yikes.

A smile graced Martha’s lips. “Sure, I’d love that.” Wag let out a breath. “We’ll take a stroll, get a nice scenic view of the beach as we go, call it a date-” She cut off. The heaviness came back to her eyes. Wag knew what she was thinking. Who she was thinking about.

It hurt.

“I’m going to go take a shower before getting ready for bed. You can go ahead and sleep, if you’d like. I know you’ve had a long day and you’re probably tired. Don’t force yourself for me.” Martha stood as she said this, fingers trailing in his hair. Then she left.

Reluctantly, Wag got up to do just that. Changed his boxers and hung up his cloak. Buried himself back into bed, under the covers.

Yeah. It’d be a date.

~~~

Martha didn’t like to get up early. Neither did Wag. Normally, this lead to them sleepily cuddling until one felt so inspired as to get up. Normally.

Ever since the group returned to the land of Mianite, Martha didn’t sleep as well. Between nightmares, being a fledgling goddess, and the… absence of certain people, she found herself waking earlier and earlier.

Wag had his fair share of sleep troubles. Where sleep troubles stopped Martha from sleeping as much, it led to Wag sleeping more. The less he slept the more exhausted he was. The more exhausted he was the more he slept. It was a vicious cycle and actually the reason Wag didn’t leave the house as much.

Nonetheless, both found themselves getting ready to leave just after dawn. Martha moved like last night didn’t end awkward and uncomfortable. Bright, cheerful, and painfully affectionate with Wag. Like she hadn’t been avoiding him for the better part of their stay here.

The worst part was that this wasn’t the first time she came back like nothing was wrong. It was almost like she could tell when he was starting to doubt their relationship. Except, he was constantly doubting their relationship. Even when things had been going well. But this time, it was like she knew when he was thinking about how much of a relationship they didn’t have.

Which was concerning if she actually knew what he thought.

Wag, on the other hand, moved like a zombie. Tired, groggy, and barely awake. The picture of early morning beauty. It wasn’t far off from how he used to act, but now it was like someone had chained weights to his feet.

Damn, he was tired as shit.

Martha had set about making some breakfast from the little food he had. Some eggs, some- thankfully not spoiled- fruit, and milk. Wag was pretty sure he didn’t have milk, but he wasn’t going to question it. She was the more magical of the two, now, so it was within reason that she could get milk in the few minutes he’d lagged behind her in getting out of bed.

He, on the other hand, was on the task of making coffee. Coffee was something of a luxury here, since it was so new to the land. It wasn’t grown naturally on the island and Wag wasn’t sure if it was imported from some far off place or if it had been introduced by the earlier dimension hoppers that still hung around. Spark, for sure, seemed to run on the stuff.

That didn’t really matter to Wag, though. He had a plant of it in his garden, for ease of access, but more importantly to see if it could be used to help crossbreed weed into existence. No far off land had procured the plant yet, so he would still strive to be the maker of weed.

Not the best plan in the world, but that wouldn’t matter once he actually made the plant.

He really shouldn’t be encouraging substance abuse.

Surely, coffee would wake him up. Then he could go on a walk with Martha and do that thing they seemed to do where they avoided those topics and pretended like everything was fine. And maybe, just maybe, they’d enjoy the conversation. Maybe they’d feel something again, feel whole for the brief moment where they let themselves forget about the person who was missing, the person that clearly held more place in Martha’s heart for it to have torn so much when he-

Maybe Wag would get his shit together and let things die between them.

Maybe he’d decide that fighting an uphill battle wasn’t worth it.

For now, though, he was content to pretend things were the same. It was better than being entirely, wholly alone. And, deep in his heart, he still loved her. So, so much.

Enough that he knew it would hurt no matter what he did.

They chatted over the food Martha cooked. She complemented his coffee, the beans from the plant he owned, and he told her that the cooking is just as good as it’d always been.

Neither mentioned that it was usually Steve, not either of them, that did the cooking.

They tossed little affections at each other with ease. Like it was second nature. A brush of hands, a quick smile, a peck on the cheek. It was like a dance. As though they were trying to make a show of how much they still cared, how much nothing had changed despite the fact that everything had changed.

Hands loosely held together, they left the house as a unit, holding up a conversation with ease. If either of them tripped up in their speech as they avoided that topic or this word, neither called each other out for it. For all that everything was off and wrong, they made it work. They found a way to shove a cube into a round hole.

Whether it was because they wanted it to work so bad or because the hole was a giant chasm with space for miles was up to debate.

The beach was calm in the early morning. Fishers were stocking up their ships to start up on their daily trip, tightening a rope here, making space there. Few people walked about the town, the kids either asleep or getting hassled to eat breakfast. With so few people out, it felt like they were on the outskirts of life, just the two of them. Like viewing the world through a painting.

That illusion was helped by the sheer height of Jordan’s tree. It was still there, despite the damage it had received when Tom got to it. If he looked closely, Wag could see the remains of burn marks and grooves held in the thick bark. He had heard that, after the heroes had left, Ianite had nursed the tree back to life in honor of her lost champion.

He ignored the fact that Ianite had sent them into the void in the first place.

Wag himself had left before that, called on to help the heroes that he had watched over as a distant wizard. Even now, he wondered if it had been worth it. To lose everything because he was asked to. In his weakest moments, he wondered if it hadn’t been the gods’ way of throwing him out.

That thought hurt the most out of everything in his life and he never let it linger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the base of the hill that Jordan’s tree- sorry, Jerry’s Tree- sat beside. They weren’t that close to getting inside yet, but it was a milestone.

As they climbed the hill, massive roots stretching out below them, Wag started up some conversation about the different species of trees. He never once mentioned apple trees. It was part of his botany, after all, and important to keep track of. The types of trees, not apple trees. Apple trees were just one of those topics and therefore something they made an unspoken agreement not to talk about.

He pondered, during his ramble, that Martha could have just flown up the tree. She could do that, after all. Wag couldn’t. Not anymore. The worst part was that he’d help build this tree, or, well, make it. Way back then. That was a sore spot to think about, but even still he was in awe of the tree. Not because of the fact that he's contributed to it- no, he had felt a sense of pride for that a long time ago. Rather, because of how it’d regrown.

Ianite’s gentle hand had turned it from merely a large, enchanting tree to a behemoth of divine wonder. Its branches had spread further, with more room between them and the tips reaching towards the heavens. The leaves had shaped up and gotten fuller, surely the size of a full-grown adult by now. Fireflies could be seen lazily hovering about clusters of leaves, giving the tree a pleasant, natural lighting.

Many more platforms and walkways had been built, new buildings having been added on top of that. They stretched from one end to the other. The most daring teased the edge of a branch, hung firmly along the length of it. The walkways were either long rope bridges made of braided vines that shimmered a faint purple or ramps made and reinforced by the same wood the tree was made of, the bottom featuring fancy swirls alongside the support beams.

Other vines, flora, and bushes lined the branches and platforms. Though they looked like they were leeching off the tree at first, a closer inspection- granted you were on the tree to get an inspection- showed they were delicately wrapped around the branches and sneakily planted in hidden pots for a more natural look. The flowers ranged from all sorts of purples- fitting. Buddleias enclosed doorways, Hyacinthus were wound along lanterns strung along pathways, and an abundance of Jacaranda could be found wherever space was made for flora.

The more he looked the more nature there was to see, the more connecting walkways there were strung along, the more everything there was. It felt like the whole world was home under the canopy.

The tree had gone from the house of a solitary man to a city of nature.

It didn’t feel like the same tree.

Wag pushed aside the nagging thought that it was better than anything he could have ever made. Ianite was a full fledged goddess, Wag was- had been- a mere wizard with the idea of godhood in his head. What he made had been incredible for mortal standards, and was still incredible for the standards he had held himself to. It would do no good to compare himself to Ianite, especially when all she had done was repair what was already there.

As they made their way up to the crest of the hill, following the path from the town to the tree as it curled around Jordan’s old home, Wag spared a glance at the birch and quartz house. It was simple, sleek and minimal. It suited Jordan. Of course, Jordan himself had made it, so why wouldn’t it?

Compared to Jerry’s Tree, though, it seemed rather dull and insignificant.

Actually.

Wag spared a closer look at the smaller home. It looked lived in. A frown pulled at his lips. Was someone living there? Who else, other than Jordan, would?

Martha had picked up the conversation now, adding in details about trees that she had seen in her travels long ago, ones he’d never have had the chance to see. There were many interesting species, some magical in the same sense as Silverwoods, some as plain as a simple oak tree, but all more than enough to satiate Wag’s desire to know more. His mind kept getting pulled back to the Casa de Sparklez, though.

A thought struck him, one he’d had just moments before.

Jerry’s Tree looked and felt so different, now that Ianite had tended to it. Like it was a different tree. Did Jordan think the same? Did it feel less like home, after being away for so long and having watched it burn?

Was Jordan living in his older house because the tree felt so forgein?

Martha was going on about a beautiful tree known for the lights its seeds shone, especially during the night hours. It really sounded like a sight to behold. More than that, the gentle, awed look on Martha’s face pulled at Wag’s heart.

Take care of her.

There was a sour taste in his mouth. Wag decided not to mention what he had just noticed. That was Jordan’s business, not his.

Martha was looking at him now, a small, shy smile on her lips. Wag felt like if he said the wrong thing it’d disappear in an instant. Like Martha was used to having her interests pushed aside, or used to pushing them aside herself when people didn’t seem to care about what she was saying.

Take care of her.

He offered a smile back, a genuine one. He really did love her. More than anything, he wanted to keep loving her. But something told him it wouldn’t work. That what they had had started to decay sometime around the end of Ruxomar, around when he left.

No, around when Martha almost became Mrs. a instead of a Ms.

Bitterness clutched at Wag’s heart. For all the love he held for her, he wondered, again and again, if she held the same. If she ever held the same, if she even held something close to the same.

Take care of her.

Looking up at Jerry’s Tree, Wag remembered what it used to be. He remembered watching it burn, the pain he had felt in seeing his hard work get tarnished, in seeing a friend’s home wither away.

Now, though, it was different. Not quite a home, anymore, but reborn. Alive. And maybe, in the future, it’d be a home again, or maybe not. Maybe it needed to burn for it to become what it was now. Jordan would have never built it up to this, but Ianite had.

Maybe that was the secret, Wag pondered. Maybe you had to let things burn to be able to build them up stronger.

He looked at Martha again, at the softness in her face and the hardness in her eyes. His heart pulled in so many directions. Love, anguish, love, despair, love, hurt, love love love.

Yeah, he was going to have to let this relationship burn.

[kingsmakers]

Okay this is just my thoughts on something I’ve found interesting in fics relating to the bad boy/broken boy trope and toxic relationships, I’m rambling mostly so putting it under the cut.

This is something I’ve always found intriguing. There are often perfectly kind and caring male characters in fics, but often I’ve found readers to be drawn to emotionally unavailable and inherently problematic male characters instead. Why is that?

I’m gonna use Decadence as an example here. When I was writing this fic, I made a really conscious choice to have Evan Rosier as the wizarding world equivalent of a “nice guy”. Attractive, nice toward women he wants to sleep with. His relationship with Phoenix Black is extremely problematic as he treats her like a possession and continually gaslights and emotionally abuses/manipulates her.

What’s interesting is that a lot of readers have come to see Evan as a “sympathetic” character, which he really isn’t. There are times when we see more softness and even kindness in Evan, and what’s scary is that what people latch onto. Those rare moments where he’s not as terrible as the rest of the time. A few readers were saying they hope Phoenix falls in love with him, or that they feel bad for him.

Why? He’s been established as an awful person, positive traits aside. It’s interesting to me that there are readers who see value or potential in what is clearly an abusive relationship. I deliberately made the choice that Evan never raises a hand to Phoenix (or uses magic to physically harm her) to demonstrate that there are more subtle forms of abuse, but I feel like readers are somewhat missing the point, since it’s been made very clear that what he is doing is abuse.

Another writer friend of mine in the discord noted the same in her own HP fic, that people were actively shipping a problematic young Death Eater with her oc. Again, there seems to be the idea that girls can “fix” guys like this, regardless of the danger to them or the threat of abuse. I feel in a lot of cases, fandom is much more forgiving toward guys with tragic pasts or who are what they consider to be attractive, to the extent where some people claim such characters are merely “misunderstood”.

Of course, I’m not saying no one can like characters such as this, I’m simply trying to fathom what about them women are drawn to. I can admit that I sometimes like a “bad boy” in fiction, but not to the extent of absolving their sins.

Idk if anyone will read this coz it’s really me blurting my thoughts into the void but ya I welcome any contributions.

[lins-fandom-hub]

09/01/1998 (1)

Part 1 || Part 2

Here’s part 1 of a 2-part fic that I wrote that commemorates Clara’s Hogwarts friends/peers lost to battle against the forces of evil.

The concept of time was humankind’s greatest enigma. It cared not about what happens in the life of any one person. Like the river in the wood, it flowed, knowing not of the stones overturned or the sediments caught in its current. Once a mark had been made, there was no erasing it; once a phenomenon had come to pass, there was no reverting it to what once was.

Time was supposed to help the dust settle over the ruins. Thoroughly damaged beyond repair, yet shrouded in the remnants of what once transpired, the image of what history left behind would only be made clearer after time had passed. Time was supposed to help the physical cuts heal. The open lacerations seeping blood through the flesh would have scabbed and closed with patches of new skin depending on how deep the wound was. Even as they happened, though, time would never let anyone forget the phenomenon that had ensued. Time didn’t care how anyone healed, grieved, smiled, or cried.

Time certainly didn’t care how anyone lived or died.

Clara closed her fingers over her wand and stood from her chair, empty eyes that once bore tears lingering on the sunny scenery outside her window. All those years ago, she had prayed for a sunny day to greet her on the day she departed home for Hogwarts, and every year, it had always been either cloudy or rainy--she even remembered the stormy day that commenced her third year all too well. A small sigh escaped her lips as she looked at the clock by her writing desk--it was 9:00 am. If she was still a student, she’d be travelling right now in one of the Ministry cars her father borrowed from the Ministry with him to King’s Cross Station, her mind abuzz solely with plans to find Jacob and bring him home. If she was still in China, she’d be drilled through military exercises set by the captain of the Chinese Wizarding Task Force without a single thought of her past. Those days were long gone, though--the past was now behind her. Today was a special day, but not for a good reason. Today, she and what remained of her circle of friends would throw a special celebration in memory of all the friends who had fallen, and all of those who sacrificed their lives to help Harry Potter defeat Voldemort at Hogwarts.

Merlin...the Battle of Hogwarts seemed so long ago. It had taken so long for the dust to settle over the relics, but she couldn’t move past the horror that she had witnessed. Her chest ached as visions began to swim in her mind--the corpses of her friends lying in the rubble, the crack of every spell relentlessly attacking those who still remained standing. She recalled the number of spells she had to deflect with her steel fans from the Task Force when her protective barriers shattered, the triangle of Death Eaters surrounding her at once threatening her to collapse. If she closed her eyes, she could see every misfired curse shattering the stone walls, tossing bodies back as if they were only rag dolls��

The soothing touch of her fiance’s fingers tracing over her arm eased her breathing, but it did nothing to stop the tears pricking at her eyes again.

“What are you thinking about, Clara?” Barnaby asked her quietly, gently wrapping his strong arms around her from behind and holding her close to him. She could only hum as she leaned back into his chest, exhaling quietly as the tears spilled over her cheeks.

“It’s the Battle, is it?”

Clara nodded. “Well...sort of.” She opened her eyes, turning to face her fiance. “There was something Dumbledore told me so long ago, back when we were still sixth years. He said that if there was one thing anyone could count on, it’s death. It comes for everyone in the end. But you know how quickly it took a lot of our friends--Rowan in our sixth year, Cedric the summer before I left for China…”

“I know,” Barnaby murmured, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away. “I know.”

“It’s hard,” Clara whispered. “It’s so hard…”

She buried her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around Barnaby as she tried her hardest not to sob. The terror that first gripped at her when she fought apart from him snaked its way back into her chest, not unlike the cursed ice that spread through the school in her second year. Death took so many people she held dear to her over the years, it was a miracle that she still remained standing. Rowan...Ben...Tonks...Fred...Talbott...heck, she couldn’t even begin to believe that Merula was dead, too. Even Dobby and Cedric, whom she didn’t know very well, felt like kin--and yet they too were brutally murdered long before the ultimate siege.

“What do you think they’ll be doing?” Barnaby wondered, tilting his head slightly. “You know, in the world of the dead.”

Clara winced slightly at the question. “I don’t know,” she mumbled eventually. “Maybe look down upon us like angels would.”

“I know Rowan is. She’s your best friend, after all--what best friend wouldn’t want to shield you from harm?” Barnaby said, slowly rubbing a hand over Clara’s back to calm her down.

“To think that everyone went into this battle not trying to protect me for the vaults this time, but fight against the one all wizardkind feared,” Clara mused. “I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. I just hope that what we invited everyone to do today would be enough to finally find closure and…”

Barnaby nodded as she trailed off, tilting her head up with a hand to look her in the eyes. Her glasses were smudged from the tears now streaming over her face.

“I’m sure they will love it,” Barnaby reassured her softly. “Not just all the ones still alive, but those who passed on. I know I would.”

It’s taken Clara weeks to pull herself together after the battle, and even more after that to seek solace from those who still remain. Only a few days ago did she finally settle the date of their wedding, yet it didn’t feel right to celebrate a day of union without sharing it with all their friends, alive or dead.

Two days to go. After that, our lives might change for the better.

She had to hold it together. Not just for them, but for herself too. Closure would not be given to those still vulnerable to breaking.

“Yeah,” she finally murmured, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I would, too.”

---

There was no bachelor and bachelorette party for this couple--heck, they couldn’t imagine the consequences for the other should a disaster occur while they were apart. Instead, a few weeks ago, Clara had sent her owl, Wagner, out into the world with letters for all their friends and loved ones. Today, everyone who was willing to come would Apparate to their house, and then gather in their vast open backyard in the evening where the ceremony would commence. 

“And done,” Barnaby declared as he delicately placed the final cherry on the top of a massive white-iced three-layer cake. A slow grin spread across his face as he looked at his best baking masterpiece--no, it was not their wedding cake, but it looked good enough to be one.

That was when the doorbell rang, and he jumped, almost knocking the cake over.

“I got it!” Clara called, running down the stairs and securing her crimson crystal hair tie around the single braid over her left shoulder. “Just set the parlour up, Barnaby.”

“Will do.” Barnaby nodded and carried the massive cake to the parlour, humming a little tune to himself.

Clara opened the door to reveal Penny and Beatrice now standing at the threshold. Both of them were wearing black dresses that went down to their knees. The plaits that were normally in Penny’s hair were now combed out, her hair now split into two braids down her shoulders. Beatrice’s hair, for the first time since Clara could recall, was held back with a headband, revealing both of her blue eyes cast down with a sad glimmer.

“Clara!” Penny greeted her friend with a hug, which Clara wholeheartedly returned.

“Hey, Penn.”

Time had changed the little girls who became friends in their first year to young adults who had survived more than one war. As they broke the embrace and looked at each other, they both caught the matured gleam now stripped of whatever carefree sparkle once graced their eyes, the tragedies they both withstood in their time at school, the weariness that came with demands that required their individual expertises.

“You hanging in there?” Penny asked Clara quietly. “I know it’s been hard on all of us.”

Clara nodded solemnly. “Trying to. It wasn’t hard when the names in the list of casualties were still unrecognizable, but it’s different now when everyone you knew gave their all to protect the school and the Boy Who Lived. Not to say I regret it--”

“I know what you mean. I’m sure none of them regretted it either,” Penny assured her.

“At least we’re still together,” Clara said with a shrug. “Jacob, little Em and I at least escaped the war unscathed. And you’ve got Beatrice, too.”

Beatrice nodded as she produced another stuffed Puffskein from her pocket--almost similar to the one she gave Clara when they first met--and gave it to her. “Is your sister coming?”

“She should be,” Clara confirmed with a nod. “Do come in, both of you. We have cake and Butterbeer in the parlour, and I think Barnaby should almost be finished with grooming the Puffskeins.”

The second one to arrive, much to Clara’s surprise, was Skye Parkin, her Wigtown Wanderers jersey billowing in the wind as she hopped off her Comet 290 in front of their house.

“Skye!” Clara exclaimed upon her arrival. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, what with training for your upcoming tournaments.”

“This means a lot to you, doesn’t it? I might as well be there for it,” Skye responded shortly, giving Clara a small smile. “Besides, one of our Chasers recently came down with a serious bout of Scrofungulus. We don’t have any backup players to properly play against the Applewood Arrows today.”

“Oh. That’s a bummer. You wish I was there to step up to the plate?” Clara asked, remembering fondly her short tenure as Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“It would be nice. But I figured you need time to...you know,” Skye said uneasily, and Clara nodded in understanding.

Shortly after Skye went in to help herself to some of Barnaby’s cake and chat with Penny, Andre, Murphy, and Orion made their appearance on Clara’s doorstep. Andre’s Pride of Portree jersey flapped in the wind behind him, in the same manner as Skye’s jersey. Murphy’s colourful tie worn for all his Quidditch commentating duties was swapped today with a black bowtie. Orion was also wearing all black from head to toe.

“I told the staff that I wasn’t feeling well,” Murphy explained. “And I’m not! There’s a 95.7% chance that after such a travesty it’s hard to think of the light ahead.”

“But what is light without darkness?” Orion asked. “It’s with light that we have darkness.”

“Or should it be the other way around?” Andre queried, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re doing this, Curse-breaker. In a time like this, I think we all really need it.”

“Thanks, Andre. And I’m happy to see you’re alive and well too, Murphy and Orion,” Clara said, bowing them into her home where they went to the parlour to meet Penny, Beatrice, Skye and Barnaby. 

Soon, Chiara, Jae, Diego, and little Em all arrived together, the girls holding onto extravagant bouquets of colourful flowers. Jae was holding tightly onto Chiara’s free hand, balancing a large box of delicacies in his other hand. Diego’s fingers were interlaced with little Em’s, his scarf from his old school days wrapped around little Em’s shoulders to keep her warm.

“Darn it. I miss my hoodie already,” Jae muttered, his teeth chattering slightly.

“Relax, Jae. It’ll only be for today,” Chiara consoled him with a small smile before turning towards Clara. “How are you doing, Clara?”

“Faring as well as I can,” Clara simply said, smiling wanly at the group. “Thanks for coming, guys--really, it means a lot.”

“Anything to get to spend time with you, Clara,” little Em reassured her older sister with a hug. “I would not miss my sister’s wedding for anything in the world.”

Diego nodded in agreement as little Em returned to his side shortly after. “Indeed. How swiftly childhood leaves us as we emerge as veterans from a war well fought and won.”

“I just hope that this celebration would mark the first chapter of genuine happiness for all of us,” Chiara finally piped up. “With all that’s happened, I figured we all need it.”

A little while into the afternoon, Tulip, Liz, and Badeea arrived together, Badeea’s hands still smeared with paint as she brought in a giant portrait of their fallen friends. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, George, and Angelina followed swiftly, George still trying to hold back tears as he held fast to Angelina’s hand; Clara couldn’t blame him. George didn’t just lose a brother in the battle, after all; he lost his twin, his second half who understood him better than anyone.

How quickly everyone’s grown, Clara realized, as she closed the door behind the Weasleys and followed them into the parlour. Glancing around at her friends grabbing drinks and some of Jae’s homemade delicacies or the cake Barnaby made, talking in low voices among themselves like old friends, she could see the hint of sadness in their eyes along with the gleam of maturity that long replaced the carefree, happy spirit they once felt. They fought more than just one battle, leaving them all with more scars than they’d hoped for--yet through their grief, they remained standing strong. They had weathered through so many storms together that they became the storm themselves.

“Is that everyone?” Chiara asked quietly as she sipped from her bottle of Butterbeer, watching the large crowd mill around the parlour and the kitchen. “Or are we still waiting for a few people?”

Clara frowned as she glanced at the clock--it was now five in the afternoon, and there were still a few last stragglers she had yet to see. “I think we have Ismelda and Jacob to wait for,” she eventually answered. “Jacob I know is with my parents, but Ismelda...I haven’t heard from her since the end of the war.”

“Ismelda’s still alive?” Penny asked, raising a brow and glancing at Beatrice.

“What are you looking at me for?” Beatrice inquired, grabbing another piece of cake from the dainty multi-tiered platter on the table. “I haven’t kept tabs on Ismelda either since I graduated from school.”

CRACK!

A sudden Apparition within the house made everyone jump, Beatrice almost dropping her cake in the shock--when the smoke cleared, Clara saw Ismelda and Erika standing in the middle of the parlour, travelling cloaks fastened tight around them. Ismelda quickly drew her arm away from Erika, massaging her upper arm to rid it of the soreness in the potential death grip.

“Did you have to grip onto me that hard?” Ismelda grumbled, shooting Erika a death glare. “And I thought I already told you I didn’t want to go!”

“I had to do what I could to make sure you got here in one piece,” Erika shrugged. “And if you say another word about this gathering being nothing but a waste of time--”

“Fine, fine.” Ismelda shook her head, a groan escaping her mouth. “Anything to save you from using me as your practice dummy.”

“That’s more like it.” Erika gave her a little smirk, her eyes darting about the rest of the group. “So this is what a party for the dead looks like.”

“Not much of a party so much as it is just a time to come together,” Murphy corrected her. “And it’s a good thing Clara’s hosting this for us. I figured we all needed it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this show on the road,” Ismelda finally said. “Is there anything we can do besides just…” She gestured around the room. “Eat cake and drink Butterbeer and mope?”

“Well…” Clara glanced around at the group--it felt a lot like the Circle of Khanna all over again, except this time there was no one else to stand by her for support. The days when Ben and Merula flanked by her were long gone now, both of them now buried in their graves a few feet below. “We prepared a bonfire pit in the backyard, and enough sky lanterns for all of us.”

“Sky lanterns?” Tulip asked, intrigued. “I haven’t seen one of those in so long. They’re part of the ceremony, right?”

“Of course,” Clara nodded. “They’re an integral part, so to say.”

“Nothing’s ever been the same since, well…” Skye glanced awkwardly at the group around her. “I mean, I’m not one to go all mushy but...I can’t imagine all of us losing people we care about so much. And all of you are great people in some way--”

She was suddenly cut off by Penny embracing her in a hug, which Skye returned hesitantly, burying her face into Penny’s shoulder.

“The people who love us never really leave us,” Barnaby piped up then. “I remembered how bad I felt when Rowan died...and then I thought I would lose Clara too when she left for China. But time taught me that they’ll always be here with us no matter where they are. Bright souls will shine like bright stars in the sky, now and forever. I found a lot of comfort in looking at the stars every night.”

These words brought a scarlet dust to Clara’s cheeks, and she smiled at him ruefully as she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. Whether that was a vow intended for their wedding or not, she would never know, but it was enough for her to make her melt on the spot.

“You’re right,” Bill nodded thoughtfully at Barnaby’s words, taking Fleur’s hand and squeezing it tight. “The stars provide comfort for those who need it most. It’s really in the darkness where we can find the light.”

At this, Andre gave Orion a pointed look, and Orion just shrugged it off, nodding at Bill.

“I suppose there’s really no use in waiting any longer,” Clara eventually said--the sun was just beginning to set, and the group was getting much too large to accommodate indoors. “Let’s all head outside to the backyard. Barnaby, can you lead them? I have...something to collect from upstairs.”

Barnaby nodded at his fiancee, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Of course, my unicorn.” He then motioned to the rest of the group to follow him. “Come on outside, everyone.”

As everyone filed out, Clara headed towards the stairs and began to ascend two steps a time--the moment she reached the landing she wasted no time in heading to her bedroom and opening the door to her closet. Peering into the mass of fabrics, her eyes landed at the bottom of the cabinet, where a single dagger laid in its black sheath lined with golden dragons, laced through the leather belt she had to wear in her days at the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.

To most, it seemed like a simple ornate dagger, most likely an article of decorum worn by royals in important ceremonies. With a polished ruby pommel at the end of a leather grip hilt, and a few engravings on the blade, it looked insignificant, almost ordinary. But to those who served in the task force it meant so much more--it was a weapon she had used in the fight against the Japanese dark wizards on more than one occasion. Where magic failed, the dagger had helped her lay many a blow on those too fast to hit with a spell, those who resisted the effects of magic in ways she would never know. She fought along those who had also given their life for the cause, fought with the same blade she held now--never a day went by when she didn’t think of them. Some survived, some died, and all for a united cause.

She honoured so many of the unknown dead with this knife strapped to her side. It only seemed fitting that she did it now, too.

“Clara? You coming?”

Clara turned around just as she looped the belt around her waist--standing at the doorway to her room was her little sister, head tilted in intrigue and eyes shining in concern.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Clara adjusted the belt over her clothes and walked over to little Em. “I was just...getting this dagger. Custom to wear it for funerals when I was working with the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.”

“Ah.” Little Em nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry, I should have knocked.”

“No need to apologize.”

It had been much too long since Clara last saw her little sister, her little Em--four months since the end of the Battle where they fought together but not at each other’s side, never getting to see each other after the dust had settled over the ruins and the wounds had all but healed in their natural time. What once were two young children who bonded in a sole promise to protect each other within the walls of Hogwarts were now two women who had no idea how to shield each other from the other side of the world. It was only a miracle that they hadn’t lost the other to the perils of the world turned upside down by none other than Voldemort himself. Moments like these between two sisters bound by blood were far and few in between since then.

“I’ve missed you so much, Clara,” little Em finally admitted. “I was worried about Jacob in the fight but when I heard you were there at Hogwarts too…”

“I thought I’d never see you again, either. I wasn’t sure if I was able to make it out of the war alive,” Clara mumbled. “How, though?”

“Stuck close with Diego. It helps to have a strong dueller at your side,” little Em said. “And you?”

“I was with Tonks at first, but when she was defeated I had to hold my own,” Clara replied. “It wasn’t easy to feel that drive to fight after seeing a casualty right in front of your eyes, but I’ve had enough practice.”

“You shouldn’t have to keep suffering, Clara. I know why you joined the task force in China, but...promise me that at the end of all of this you’ll find some peace and happiness,” little Em pleaded. “All your life you’ve been fighting, and I understand it was for a cause. Just...I don’t want you to break under all the pressure. You have so many people who worry about you, and it would break my heart to find that you’ll never find happiness again at the end of the day.”

“Em.” Clara turned to face her sister now, a small smile on her face. “All I want is to make you happy, to fight for your happiness and safety every day. Knowing that you’re here and you’re happy and safe is enough for me to feel happy and safe.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Little Em smiled, a brief second of relief, before taking her sister’s hand and leading her out of her room. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

[buggaberry]

my miraculous fic recs

These are a bunch of fics that I personally really love and highly recommend giving a read! Most of these are probably gonna end up being angsty, I’ll try my best to put some fluffy ones too, but I will put potential trigger warnings and the sort as needed. Some of them are gonna be old, others new, but I think this’ll be fun in case you’re looking for something to read!!

                ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by Reiaji

(Rated T)

Pairings: Ladrien

Cinderella AU, Adrien winds up as a servant in his own home after his mother passes away, he meets a masked huntress in the woods and finds happiness for the first time in a long while. This is such a beautifully written piece, the writing is phenomenal, and the lore is everything. If you haven’t read this already I highly suggest reading this! (Incomplete) //Implied/Referenced Child Abuse//

Chasing the C/h/atwalk. by Inkkerfuffle ( @runningoutofink )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Adrienette

Project Runway AU anyone? Marinette competes in the show and she happens to come across a certain familiar model’s face~ I absolutely adore this fic, it’s the cutest thing ever. (Complete)

Breathe by artisticFlutter

(Rated T)

Pairings: Lovesquare

“While assisting the public during an akuma attack as Chat Noir, Adrien is unknowingly exposed to a deadly disease making one final stand in Paris. He struggles to stay above it, to keep fighting, but he finds it harder to breathe every day.”

This fic is supposed to be a crossover fic with the Trauma Series, which I’m not familiar with, but I love this so much. It absolutely hurts, but it’s written so well and I go back for this one a lot. (Complete) // Graphic Depictions of Illness // Blood // Surgery //

Lucky Us by PrincessKitty1 ( @geek-fashionista )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Lovesquare

They’re aged up in this AU! Marinette finds her life not going quite as planned, she’s stuck working at her parent’s bakery. Ladybug and Chat Noir are aliases for their emails and they’re pen-pals. Adrien starts coming to the bakery after hours. Slow burning ensues. This fic is  s o f t , it owns my heart and it’s asdfhk everything. (Complete)

Ruffled by imthepunchlord ( @imthepunchlord )

(Rated G)

Pairings: Adrienette

This is a Harry Potter AU! Although it doesn’t have any relation to the plot of Harry Potter, it takes place in the same universe. They attend the French wizarding school Beauxbatons, Adrien struggles to fit into the pureblood society because he’s secretly half human and half Veela, a witch catches his eye and hehe slow burn. (Complete)

Pray For the Children You Lost Along the Way by LunarDaydreams

(Rated M)

Pairings: Lovesquare

Silent Hill AU, I’ve never played the game before, nor do I know any of its context, but this fic?? Is so good?? Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth end up stranded in a strange town, Agreste family drama, creepy monsters in the fog, and the town seemingly transfixed on hurting Chat Noir. Ladybug and Chat Noir try their best to stay together and escape. Lots of hurt/comfort. If you’re into horror, this one’s for you. (Incomplete) // Graphic Depictions of Violence // Trauma // Psychological Horror // Horror // Minor Character Death // Temporary Character Death // Silent Hill-Typical Warnings // References to Suicide and Depression //

Phantasmagoria and Late to the Jabberwocky by Mikauzoran                       ( @mikauzoran )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Lukadrien / Lukadrienette

These are both a part of her Springtime in Wonderland series and it’s so wonderful. The writing is absolutely amazing, Phantasmagoria takes place on the anniversary of Adrien’s mother’s disappearance, he rebels and goes to the bar where he runs into Luka playing with his band. They grow closer together, and lots of flirting ensues. Late to the Jabberwocky takes place after the events of Phantasmagoria so I can’t say much about it without spoiling the other so ur just gonna have to go read it :P (Incomplete) // Mentions of Alcohol // References to Depression // Family Issues //

Out of the Rain by ominousunflower ( @ominousunflower​ )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Lukadrien

This one gives me big owies, it hurts like no tomorrow, but I’m hooked on this. This made me tear up because it just hurts that much. Ladybug is killed in battle against Hawkmoth, this deals with the aftermath, Adrien struggles to cope with it. He has to give up being Chat Noir, and his friends try to help him keep it together. Things get worse when he finds himself with a new responsibility he’s not sure he can handle. The author puts warnings at the beginning of each chapter, because it’s pretty heavy. But this really is one of my favorite fics right now. (Incomplete) // Major Character Death // Grieving // Loss // Isolation // Depression // Eating Disorder // Panic Attacks // Thoughts about Dying // Emotional Self-Harm // Mentions of Vomiting //

A Werecat in London by ThornQueen ( @i-am-thornqueen ​ )

(Rated M)

Pairings: Lovesquare

I am a sucker for werewolf -or in this case, werecat- AUs. They’re aged up, Chat Noir has to deal with the consequences of an akuma while on a business trip in London. This is an older fic and it hasn’t been updated in a while, but what’s there is absolutely worth reading. The writing is amazing. (Incomplete) // Mentions of Nudity // Discussions of Sex (not explicitly) //

Back to Us by DarkReyna16 ( @insanitysscribblings ​ )

(Rated M)

Pairings: Lovesquare

Hawkmoth is defeated, but it costs Ladybug and Chat Noir’s friendship. They go their separate ways only to meet up again seven years later, the citizens of Paris are lashing out, and tensions are as high as ever. What could go wrong? This is like enemies to lovers, except they were friends before they were enemies, and it is the ultimate slow burn. (Complete) // Minor Character Death //

Truth and Consequences by siderealSandman( @siderealscribblings ​)

(Rated M)

Pairings: Lovesquare, Lukagami, Nino/Alya/Chloé, Mentions of Lukanette and Adrigami

Marinette discovers Hawkmoth’s identity and she makes a deal with him. Chaos ensues. This really dives into the shows dynamics and almost dissects the lovesquare. It makes u wanna cry and go whYY my poor heart, but you have to keep reading because you wanna know what happens next. (Incomplete) // Major Character Death //

You Don’t Know Me by Ferisae ( @ferisae ​ )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Lovesquare

This was like my first favorite fanfic, it’s written so amazingly, and it’s an older one as well that hasn’t been updated but it owns my heARt. Ladybug suffers from a near-fatal accident and Adrien struggles to keep it together. He has to try and protect Paris while falling apart emotionally and physically. (Incomplete) // Hospitals // Blood // Illness //

Cry of the Siren by SKayLanphear ( @skaylanphear )

(Rated M)

Pairings: Lovesquare, DJWifi

This is so pretty agh, I daydream about this fic. Marinette is a pirate captain, Adrien is a mermaid and finds himself caught with arranged marriage, he leaves his home and gets stranded on human shores after being injured. I love this so much, I love pirates and mermaids, and the society that was built is so amazing and ga h. (Incomplete) // Nudity // Mental Health Issues //

Love Has No Barriers by Scribbling Mama ( @scribblingmama )

(Rated T)

Pairings: Adrienette

Adrien suffers from a rare immunodeficiency disorder which leaves him stuck behind plastic and isolated from the outside world. He’s childhood friends with Marinette, and he wants nothing more than to leave his bubble and confess his feelings for her. This fic was so sad, but so soft, I adore this to bits. (Complete) // Illness // Hospitals // Surgery //

The Two of Us by AnabielVriskaMars

(Rated T)

Pairings: Adrienette

Because this list needs more fluff! They’re in college and Marinette is struggling financially, Adrien offers to marry her until she’s stable again. Totally not romantic or anything… unless??? (Complete)

There’s definitely more, but for now these are all the ones I can name that I really really love. Happy reading!! ♡

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Retro 2019 Holiday Event Fic: Icy Imagery, pt. 2

Previous: https://silyabeeodess.tumblr.com/post/189843252259/fusionfall-retro-2019-holiday-event-fic-icy

The next day—bundled in layers of clothes with a large, black sweater draped over her—Silya marched up the spire to find around a dozen soldiers at one of its lowest bases all gathered by the Ice King’s all but forced invitation.  Everyone had a holstered weapon, but fortunately, the area had already been cleared of Penguin Pests.  The Ice King had manifested a table beforehand, and had laid a small spread of chips, veggies, dip, liters of Super Porp, and what looked like some kind of potato salad, but they were either slushed or frozen by the time anyone got there. Despite this, everyone had one snack or another pushed on them.

Waiting for the last of the stragglers to arrive, Silya sloshed her iced drink around in its cup without taking a sip, not for the first time that day rethinking her decisions in life. She wondered how insane she had to be to let herself get talked into this and whether or not it would amount to anything.  Maybe she’d just spent so much time as one of Dexter’s lab rats that rational thought had abandoned her a long time ago.

Whatever the reason—passion, desperation, or her own madness—there she was, standing in the cold, about to take lessons from a raving lunatic.  Well, at least she wasn’t the only one crazy enough to be there…

Even if only a few others showed up after her.  Their pitiful numbers didn’t deter the wizard: He just glanced them over with a thoughtful pout and affirming nod before deciding to himself that they’d waited long enough. He raised his arms in a calling gesture, “Alright, alright, everybody, settle down.”

No one was saying much to begin with, all dialogue confined to a dull murmur, but they stopped to fire incredulous glances at him all the same.

The Ice King took on an authoritative persona that was almost comical, pacing in front of them as if he were their commander, ready to lead them into battle.  “Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here… It’s because your brains are all mush!” He waved his arms at the group. “You’re telling me that you all are capable of drawing from some kind of superpower, but you can’t even use it without a bunch of sciency junk? If it’s imaginary energy, then you should focus on using your imaginations a little.”

“Easier said than done…” someone muttered to Silya’s left.  They were right.  This was just the kind of thing she was worried about.  IE went a lot farther than what the Ice King described—if it didn’t, then it would’ve been seen used in almost every aspect of human life—so, no, just ‘using their imaginations’ wasn’t enough. She glanced back the way she came, already considering her escape.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air.  Who knew what kind of response he was expecting, but clearly whatever speech the wizard had prepared didn’t go much farther than what he’d already said.  He glanced over the group again, the kind of look of his face that begged for someone else to step in.  When no one did, he held his hands up, “Uh… look, maybe it’d just be easier if I show you.”

A light blue aura shimmered around his fingers, a clear sign to everyone of Ice King’s elemental magic. Some recoiled instinctively, hands lingering by their sheathes and holsters. Instead of directing it at anyone there, however, Ice King instead aimed for the ground.  The magic scattered at their feet, manifesting in crackling icy, geometric patterns.  Then it swarmed around them, a cold chill pouring over them like a sudden, snowy blast of air.  Silya shielded her face from the winds with one arm, reaching for her sword with her free hand in case a stray bolt of ice trapped her legs.

Despite the Ice King’s bad history of encasing people in ice, however, none of them were harmed. Instead, the frosty cloud distorted their surroundings into some kind of strange, starry void washed in shades of green. The spire was gone and they were left hovering in the air.  A mix of excitement and panic took over the group.

“What is this? Where are we?!”

“Is this some kind of imaginary world?”

“It can’t be.  I’m checking the readings now, but I’m only picking up low traces of IE.”

Silya said nothing, taking it all in.  There was no way this could be an imaginary world.  Not that she’d ever had the chance to explore one herself, but no one could just summon one up like that!  Besides, it didn’t look like much of any kind she’d seen from the reports about them: They were always spawned with some kind of wonderland-like element to them. There was nothing here.  Nothing besides them…

Her eyes fell on the Ice King as their brief talk from yesterday entered her mind.  Sure enough, he called them back to attention with a proud grin on his face, “Fellas, you’re in my imagination zone!  Pretty cool, right?” He wiggled his brows. “It’s like a mindscape where anything goes.  Even Finn’s got one of these—and he’s got the imagination of a missing sock!”

“Mindscape?” a young man echoed to her right.  

Were they all currently somehow connected to the Ice King’s thoughts then?  Like some form of telepathy? She grimaced, unsure of how comfortable she actually was with that…

“Yeah, everyone’s got one they can go to.  Or should, I mean, I guess you shmoes never figured that out.  But that’s about to change.”  The Ice King hunted through his robes until he withdrew a worn, ruddy blue book.  “You guys read my fanfiction, right?  Since the ideas are all written out for you, it shouldn’t be a problem bringing Fiona and Cake and the rest into the world.”

Caught between a mix of irritation and guilt, Silya didn’t know what to feel worse.  Did he make us come here just to see if we could bring his fanfiction to life?  It didn’t exactly surprise her: Of course there was a catch.  There was always something like this no matter what villain joined the Fusion Fighters.  On the other hand, he had such an eager, puppy-like expression on his face that she felt bad for him.  She bit her lower lip.  While she didn’t have the hurt to dump her copy, she’d buried that brick of text somewhere so deep into her storage bank she didn’t even know where to find it without combing through everything.  

One look at the others told her that none of them had read it either.  Few of them answered him, and the ones that did had some excuse or another:

“I’ve been fighting fusion monsters, so I haven’t really gotten a chance to sit down with it…”

“Y-yeah! A-and it’d be a shame to rush through the story: It’s so… detailed.”

Miraculously, it worked, although the wizard still seemed disappointed.  He lowered the book, muttering a faint ‘oh,’ before a sudden anger took over him directed at no one in particular. “Well, this was a waste of time!”  The charge of emotion came and went, replaced with an excited smile, “Oh wait!  I can just read some of the good parts aloud right here then!  Makes sense, since it’ll keep us all on the same page.”

This time, at last, Silya finally interjected, raising her voice as a look of dread passed over the soldiers, “I think we’re good, Ice King.”  Caught under his curious stare, she thought up something quick, “Think about it: No one’s gonna know your characters quite like you do anyway, so even if we managed to create them, they wouldn’t exactly be the same.”  

She wasn’t lying: It was a case that happened all the time with imaginary friends.  People had their own needs, desires, and impressions, and those things always imprinted on imaginary beings.  It was even the case with their nanos, who took traits from themselves as often as they did their original counterparts.    

“Artistic interpretation and all…” she finished, scratching the back of her head.  “So, if you want to see Fionna and Cake, don’t you want them to be just like you’ve written them?”

He stared at her hard for a long moment—so long that she wondered if he’d snap again—but instead his expression turned a little sad and he dropped his gaze to the book in his hands with a casual shrug.  “Yeah, sure, but I tried all that before.  Even kidnapped some buddies of mine to find a life-giving mage to do it, but it didn’t work.  Took forever to write all the stories again after that…”

She wasn’t even going to ask: Somehow, she just knew that they and the Ice King had extremely different ideas about “buddies.”  However, it gave her an idea for how they all could get what they wanted.  “How about a trade then?  There this place called Fosters’ that specializes in imaginary friends. They might be able to help out.   You show us how to enter our own imaginary zones and we’ll get you in contact Fosters’.”      

Silya could feel the eyes drilling into the back of her skull from her fellow soldiers.  They could judge her all they wanted.  Frankie would probably kill her for passing the Ice King along like this, but after all the times she’d had to look after Cheese in the Darklands, the young woman felt that turnabout was fair play.  If this was their chance of getting one step closer to mastering IE, then it was worth it: He could make an army of Fionnas for all she cared.

Before she could get an answer though, one of the other Fusion Fighters spoke up, “Wait… If this is a mindscape, then what about our physical bodies?”

The area went so silent that you could hear a pin drop.  All heads turned to them, eyes wide with growing realization.  The wizard answered somewhat dismissively, “Duh, this is an imagination zone: It’s not like I could bring those here.  You’re lucky I was able to get everyone here at all.  I never tried it with so many people.”

“But if we’re all here, then who’s watching our backs in the real world?!”

Continued through the following fic... 

[stuckwith-harry]

I would love for you to write those long posts on Harry and Ginny's feelings about getting married later/after having James. This has also been my headcanon forever but I rarely see it excepting your posts so would love to hear ALL of your thoughts!!

I’ll start with Ginny, anon, because that’s a long, long post you’ve got ahead of yourself. Bit of a tangent, too, but I’ll get there, I promise. I’ll put it under a read more ‘cause it’s such a long fucker.

(CW for discussion of trauma and only mentions of torture, bullying and self-harm.)

Most of what we learn about Ginny – Ginny as she exists towards theend of the series – we learn after everythingthat happens to her in the Chamber of Secrets. Something I wouldargue doesn’t just apply to us as an audience, but to Ginnyherself, as well.

If you asked me whoGinny is, my mind would go to things like: She’squick to defend herself and her friends, and when she does, she doesit aggressively – not above making it physical, either (standsup for Luna when she’s being bullied, stands up for herself whenRon slut-shames her, straightup crashes into ZachariasSmith after a Quidditch match when he was being rude). It’simportant to her that everyone around herknows she can take care of herself anddoesn’t need babysitting or sugarcoating. Shewants to be treated as an equal. She’s quick to anger, tends totake things too far (be it jokes, or confrontations, etc), butfunny, warm and compassionate, too.

Apartfrom the fact that I think the general “badassery” is partially afacade (we can spot it crack a little during that last conversationshe has with Harry prior to the Horcrux hunt – when she giveshim his birthday kiss, you’llrecall), I also think it’svery much born out of the trauma she endured in COS. Not becauseshe’s still defined by it, but because she’s very,very, very much shaped by it.

When you endure something terrible like that – at any age, really,but especially when you’re as young as Ginny was –a huge part of recovering is carving out an identity for yourselfthat isn’t entirely defined by your trauma. Existing outside ofyour trauma, if you will. At the same time, you can’t escape it, itstays with you – forever – and it has a tremendous and lastingimpact on how you interact with the world.

(You may be able to read between the lines that I can reallyrelate to Ginny here. Her thing was being possessed by an evilwizard via a Horcrux disguised as a harmless enchanted diary. Minewas bullying and self-harm. It doesn’t leave you. Even when theperson who did it to you is far away.)

And Ginny, towards the end of the series, gives me this sense ofresolutely refusing to be victimised. She wants to fight, bein the middle of the action, even when she’s deemed too young:refuses to show weakness, or to become as emotionally dependent onanyone as she was on the diary, to the very best of her ability.(Because, you know, pouring all of herself into one person reallybackfired before.)

Especially given that Ginny is a teenager who, from the looks of it,never had access to therapy or anything else that would help her dealwith her trauma – in fact, it looks like she deals with itpredominantly by herself – I think she does a very good jobof that, for the most part (emphasis on for the most part – thereare places where we can see unresolved trauma festering inher): By the end of the series, we’ve come to know her for a lot ofthings that have nothing to do with the diary, it doesn’t definewho Ginny Weasley is to us, but at the same time, she doesn’t doanyone else or herself the misguided favour of ignoring it ordenying it ever happened. (In fact, she actually manages to use herexperiences constructively; see the “I forgot” – “Lucky you”exchange in OOTP. A scene I also want to write a long ass metapost about soon, buuuuut that’s not this post.)

With that out of the way, thinking about Ginny’s feelings onmarriage (huzzah, we’re getting there!) brought backmemories to this conversation she had with Molly in early HBP:

“Mumhates [Fleur],” said Ginny quietly.

“Ido not hate her!” said Mrs. Weasley in a cross whisper. “I justthink they’ve hurried into this engagement, that’s all! […] Iknow why it’s happened, of course. It’s allthis uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think theymight be dead tomorrow, so they’re rushing all sorts of decisionsthey’d normally take time over. It was the same last time he waspowerful, people eloping left, right, and center —”

“Includingyou and Dad,” said Ginny slyly. 

“Yes, well, your father andI were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?” saidMrs. Weasley.

Besides the “sly” remark, we don’t reallyfind out how Ginny feels about her parents’ marriage, butI can’t help but suspect thatthe absolute certainty with which Molly presents this only makesGinny question it more. (Ginnyis pretty … defiant … at this age. She’sconstantly challengingthe people around her on their actions and values, especially when itcomes to what they thinkis right for Ginny. Ron’s reactions to her dating life come to mindagain, as does her family’s tendency to try and keep her out of theaction because she’s the little one, Harry’s tendency to want toprotect her. There’s a distinct sense of“How do you know what’s good for me?!”, which, now that I thinkabout it, also looks like a product of her trauma given that sheendured this incredibly traumatisingthing, at age eleven, thatno one around her noticed for a yearstraight and then pretty muchimmediately forgotabout. JKRowling did,too. Again, differentpost.)

I also – personally – never really got thesense that Ginny wants tobe like Molly, whatever she deems that tobe. This part is entirelyguesswork/headcanons/me filling in the gapsthe way I see fit, but I’m willing to beta Galleon or two that the aforementioned conversation could leadGinny to wonder how her parents and her family would be different ifthey hadn’t tied the knot quite soquickly. (Writing a fic for the Hinny 100about that, so keep your eyes peeled!)

So between that and the fact that Ginny is atleast in touch enough with her emotions to recognise her own trauma,I’m just going to state the obvious: Sheis 100% not in a place to get married shortly after the war. AndI think she knows that.

Because Ginny, again,has an entire year of trauma behind her. She’s been tortured by theCarrows – repeatedly, from what we know; she’s worried forthe lives of her friends and family and ex-boyfriend for months; Luna disappearsaround Christmas, and Ginny doesn’t know where she is or if she’salive. She’s spent months terrified and powerless.She’s fought in the Battle ofHogwarts, likely missing death by an inch herself more than once;she’s lost a brother. So apart from the diary stuff – that isstill there – there’s now all this newtrauma that she gets to deal with.

Which, again, means figuring out who she’s goingto be now, and what her life is going to be like now. How to live with it, and how to exist with and around and outside of it. That takes alot of work, and a lot of time, and, frankly, a good therapist - though itsadly doesn’t seem like the Wizarding world hasthose. (Different post, though!)

It’s not really a matter of not being willing orcapable to be committed to her relationship with Harry – rather,it’s about not being in a place, mentally, whereshe can make a decision about the rest of her life when she doesn’tknow what the rest of her life is going to look like, or who she’sgoing to be, or what she’s going to want.

Alright, I hope youcould sit through all of that, anon – it ended up being a bit of anovel, didn’t it. Let me know what you think, if you’ve got more thoughts, if you agree, etc.

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Established Relationship

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Malfoy Meet Muggle by PenNoire Rated:  Teen Words:  25,326 Tags:  Animagus, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humour Summary:  Draco Malfoy is surprisingly happy in a comfortable relationship with Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't brought up doing things the wizarding way, and if Draco wants to make this work, he's going to have to learn to integrate the magical with the muggle. Really, how bad can it be? ❤️ Read on AO3 or FFN

📜 A Nightmare Waiting to Happen by triggerlil Rated:  Explicit Words:  21979 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobia, Eye Trauma, Eye Gouging, enucleation, Childhood Trauma, Vomiting, Choking, Unreliable Narrator, Horror, Body Horror, Clones, Abuse, Nightmares, Zombies, Cannibalism, Sectumsempra (Harry Potter), Legilimency (Harry Potter), Hospitals, Character Death In Dream, Antagonist James in Dream, bug horror, Snakes, Moths, Child Death in Dream, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Attempted Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Corpses, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hurt/Comfort, Curses, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Protective Draco Malfoy, Husbands, No Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, Sexist Language, Bullying Summary:  Draco sat beside Harry's bed as the man breathed deeply; his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, and every so often, he would twitch or part his lips. Draco couldn’t imagine what was going on in Harry’s mind, but he clutched his husband’s hand, wishing he could take his place, do anything to help. Harry Potter is cursed into a nightmare-verse—escaping one nightmare only causes him to fall deeper through the layers of his subconscious—will he be able to free himself, or will his deepest fears swallow him whole? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Age is just a number by gnarf Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1555 Tags: Old Age, Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship, Dementia, Plot Twists, Shoplifting, Just Add Kittens, Muggle London, HP Fluff Fest 2020 Summary:  Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Our Dreams, Our Pride by ahhhnorealnamesallowed Rated:  Mature Words:  10319 Tags: Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Holidays, a very british coach holiday, Ireland, POV Alternating, Swearing, discussion of sex and sexual acts, Slice of Life, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, (or very little plot), Magic University - Freeform, Post-Secondary, Getting Together, Established Relationship Summary:  For six years, Harry has promised Draco a 'big thing' for their anniversary. This year is the year Harry is going to make it happen, even if he does so in a very Harry Potter way. Including last-minute vacation planning, some very sassy old people, a coach bus, and less anniversary sex than expected. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 No Wizard Is an Island by Novaa Rated:  Mature Words:  50009 Tags: HP:EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Ensemble Cast, Slow Burn, Quidditch, Getting Back Together, Established Relationship, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Auror Ron Weasley, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Apothecary Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Slice of Life, Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018, Community: harrydracobang Summary:  For a life is made of the people living it, and no wizard is an island. A twenty-years journey in the intertwined lives of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco and Harry. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Arrangement by RurouniHime Rated:  Explicit Words:  65746 Tags: From Sex to Love, Established Relationship, Past Relationship(s), Domestic, Requited Love, Making Out, Jealousy, Falling In Love, Angst, Confessions, Moving In Together, Introspection, Pining, Community: help_haiti Summary:  It's worked for years. Why change it now? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Training Exercises by spookywoods Rated:  Explicit Words:  1313 Tags: Auror Draco Malfoy, Blindfolds, Hand Jobs, Married Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, It's Curry Night at the Malfoy-Potter Residence!, so you know it will be hot, Terrible smut and terrible puns, here all week Summary:  Harry comes home from work to find Draco sitting in the dining room in the dark, wearing a blindfold and little else. “It’s for training,” Draco says. “Training?” “Sensory and environmental magic.” “I could help you train,” Harry says. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take a trip into my garden by Andithiel Rated:  Explicit Words:  5974 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, First Time Bottoming, Draco in lingerie, Bisexual Harry Potter, Rimming, Anal Sex, Really there might be too much feeling for it to count as pwp, As usual when I write, Enthusiastic Consent Summary:  Harry has only been dating Draco for about two months, but he’s already obsessed with the git. And he knows that today, Draco has something special planned, something that includes him being dressed in skimpy lingerie. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Forget-Me-Nots and Narcissus by triggerlil Rated:  Mature Words:  14430 Tags: Piano Player Draco Malfoy, Wand Maker Harry Potter, Summer, Domestic, Work partners - Freeform, Established Relationship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Wakes & Funerals, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Gardens & Gardening, Panic Attacks, apple picking, Wandmaking (Harry Potter), Classical Music, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:  His long pale fingers travelled across the keys, the sound of the piano cresting and falling, one moment soft and enticing, in the next fast and sure. The first few buttons of his white shirt were undone, revealing a pale chest and thin lines of scars; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms, one marred by a smudge of black ink. Or in which Draco is overcome by grief, and Harry is there to keep him afloat. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Through the Window, Clear Skies by tackytiger Rated:  Mature Words:  1415 Tags: Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Moving In Together, Boyfriends, Domestic, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Emotionally Repressed, True Love, Mention of wanking, mention of fucking, but mostly just love, Engagement, Drarry Discord Writers Corner Drabble Challenge Summary:  What would happen if Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy moved in together, too soon after they started kissing and then fucking and not hating each other anymore? Will Draco insist on a wine rack? Or: Domestic Drarry with a bare hint of angst. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Sweet Nothings by vivi1138 Rated:  Mature Words:  1985 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Hallucinations, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, POV Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Muteness, Terminal Illnesses, Physical Disability, Loss of strength, Bodily Fluids, Heavy Angst, Hospitalization, Missions Gone Wrong, Auror Partners, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Afterlife, Mental Health Issues, hopelessness Summary:  What do you do when you lose the one you love? After a raid goes wrong, Draco navigates the waters of his grief and may very well lose himself in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Found by peachpety Rated:  Explicit Words:  7500 Tags: Double Agent Draco Malfoy, BAMF Harry Potter, Hogwarts Sixth Year, love realizations, Boys Kissing, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Occlumency (Harry Potter), mind connections, Intense Emotional Action Sequences, Canon Dumbledore Death, Established Relationship, Teenage Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Non-graphic Mentions/Recalls of Offscreen Sexual Activity Between Consensual Minors, Magic and Emotions Conveyed as Color, Threats of Physical Violence and Intimidation, References to Past Forced Submission, Killing Death Eaters, Eventual Happy Ending, Minor References to Past Snape/Lucius Summary:  During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Christmas Is For Sex (and Love), So Give It To Me by GoldenTruth813 Rated:  Explicit Words:  53218 Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Christmas, Bondage, misuse of frosting, making gingerbread houses, coming without touching, Blowjobs, Fingering, anal penetration, Rimming, misuse of fairy lights, Praise Kink, Nipple Clamps, erotic massages, Lingerie, Harry in Lingerie, Butt Plugs, Masterbation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Topping from the Bottom, Ice Play, misuse of snowballs, misuse of brandy custard, veritasium, Public Sex, misuse of christmas candles, Wax Play, floating blow jobs, bubble baths, Candy Canes, misuse of candy canes, sex with feelings, Clubbing, naughty letters, babysitting teddy, Edging, healing past trauma, really so much more than sex, but lots of sex too, spiked hot cocoa, Drunk confessions, Anal penetration with a foreign object, french!draco, Switching Summary:  Draco buys Harry an Advent House, intent on helping Harry create all new holiday memories, and have a lot of great sex in the process. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 there’s a trick with a dragon I’m learning to do by curiouslyfic Rated:  Explicit Words:  20000 Tags: Politics, economics, social commentary, international relations, mature characters, complex relationships, intellectual comradeship, working together to achieve a common goal, sharp dressers, snark, banter, armchair sex, wall sex, desperate kissing, orgasm denial, playful biting, Machiavellian intrigue, wizard banking, Potterverse ghosts and goblins, pursuit, subtle seduction (i.e. life-saving and/or political acts that can be interpreted as courtship), and frivolous decadence Summary:  Harry’s live-in’s a workaholic being courted — harassed — by an array of weeping minions and an assortment of overprivileged pricks. Harry’s bloody portraits are being harassed — courted — by, well, an assortment of things Harry doesn’t even want to think about. Harry’s had a long week already and so far, his weekend’s not looking much better. At least he can say with certainty there's no place like home... ❤️ Read on Dreamwidth

📜 Last Offices by tackytiger Rated:  Mature Words:  6737 Tags: Major Character Death, Character Death, Blood and Injury, Memories, Unhappy Ending, Wakes & Funerals, Falling In Love, Sad Harry Potter, Preparation of a body for burial, Non-Linear Narrative, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Happy Memories Summary:  It didn't seem fair that Malfoy was dead, and Harry was supposed to just keep on living without him. He had lost enough people to know that he probably would keep on going—his stubborn heart was still beating, after all, even though it felt like it was going to break. But first, he had to get through the laying out of the dead—those old Pureblood funeral rites—even if every time he touched Malfoy's too-cold body, he was reminded of how things used to be, and how things might have been. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Love Is by xErised Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  26529 Tags: Emotional Roller Coaster, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Post-Hogwarts Summary:  Aurors Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are presumed dead during a mission gone wrong. Their partners — Draco and a pregnant Hermione — refuse to believe that they're gone, even after a year of their absence. A tale of loss, longing and love, with a happy ending. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Making A List and Checking It Twice by blithelybonny Rated:  Explicit Words:  20758 Tags: Porn with some plot, Established Relationship, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Dom/sub, Making Out, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Spanking, Frottage, Rimming, Sex Toys, Butt Plugs, Subdrop, Aftercare, Bathing/Washing Summary:  ON HIATUS - WILL BE COMPLETED -- A life-changing event is headed Draco and Harry's way - what better way to celebrate than by checking a few things off the old sexual bucket list? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Dreams That You Dare to Dream Really Do Come True by Drarrelie Rated:  Explicit Words:  11751 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Established Relationship, The Burrow (Harry Potter), Birthday, Harry Potter's Birthday, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Sexual Fantasy, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Secret use of sex toys in public, Internalised Kink Shame, Praise Kink, Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Porn with Feelings, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Dom Harry Potter, Sub Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Power Bottom Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, Fanart Welcome, Podfic Welcome Summary:  Today, Draco’s new boyfriend turns nineteen and the annoying tosser has refused to present a wish list. It’s not Draco’s fault if he felt compelled to get a little creative, right? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Up the Duff by CorvetteClaire Rated:  Explicit Words:  86755 Tags: Mpreg, Magical Pregnancy, Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Wizengamot, Unspeakables (Harry Potter), Snarky Malfoy-style Humor, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Harry's Thing with Walls, Adorable Toddlers, Pregnant Draco, Protective Harry, Desperate Malfoys Summary:  Draco Potter is hugely pregnant and (much to his surprise) enjoying himself. He loves having Harry fuss over him and looks forward to adding another Potter to their little family. Unfortunately for Draco, his parents have found out about their impending grandchild and have no intention of letting him separate them from this child, as he did from Bob (Felix). Their attempts to force their way into Draco's life may bring down even greater troubles on his head when the wizarding world at large finds out that Draco Potter, née Malfoy is up the duff! Or The fic that answers the burning questions... How many servings of McDonald's french fries can a pregnant wizard eat in a single day? Just how adorable and persuasive can a quarter-Veela toddler get before his fathers sell him to the Goblins? Is it possible to conceal a pregnant belly the size of a Hogwarts carriage under a glamour? What could be more ruthless and dangerous than Malfoys in need of an heir? Will Harry and Draco ever agree on a name for their child? Are girls really easier (and will our heroes ever find out)? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 what the body wants is coolness by lastontheboat Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  13428 Tags: Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, First Time in Public, draco overthinks things, harry is affectionate, Beach Quidditch, no smut just fade to black, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Community: hp_drizzle, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE Summary:  "Are you done primping yourself yet?" Draco asked, feeling mulish. "We can still meet your friends on time if we leave now, but we'll have to walk quickly." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a beach day, Draco," he said patiently. "Not a pureblood society event." "Yes, well, not all of us have the goodwill of the rest of the wizarding world to fall back on when we commit acts of social barbarism." ~~~ Draco and Harry have been seeing each other for months, and Harry decides the best way to tell their friends is to bring Draco to a group beach outing. Draco's given up enumerating all the ways this plan could go wrong. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Memorable Speech by Samunderthelights Rated:  Teen and Up Words:  1300 Tags: Drarropoly: A Drarry Game/Fest, Drarry, Fluff, Silly, Weddings, Established Relationship, Short & Sweet, Don't copy to another site Summary:  Harry is asked to give a speech at Teddy's wedding, but when he gets flustered, it becomes a speech the wedding guests will remember for a long time. ❤️ Read on AO3