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miniwrites1 · 2 years

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Fraternisation - Sebastian Sallow (Part 2)

Word Count - 1332

Themes - Fluff, Angst, AU - Sebastian healed Anne and Solomon is still alive

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian was sat having his breakfast with Anne when he heard a squawk. His head snapped up at the sound of an owl approaching. He quickly ran outside to see his owl approaching, carrying a letter. He grinned. Anne followed him outside to see what the commotion was, quickly noticing the owl.

“Is that from your girlfriend?” She teased. Sebastian glared at her but couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. He didn’t need to say anything, Anne could tell everything from the look that he was giving her. Sebastian held out his arm for the owl to land and took the letter as soon as it landed, carrying the owl back inside and setting it on its perch. He opened the letter quickly, excited for the message inside. He was supposed to be meeting you in Hogsmeade in a few days but hadn’t heard anything from you, even though he had sent countless letters.

“Well, are you going to stop grinning like a fool and read the damn letter?” Anne quipped. Sebastian laughed and pulled the letter from the envelope. By this point, even Solomon had appeared to see why his nephew was so happy.

Dear Sebastian,

Unfortunately, I will not be able to meet you in Hogsmeade on Friday.

I’m sorry.

(Y/N)

Sebastian felt a sinking feeling I his stomach, his smile falling rapidly. Anne held her hand out for the letter, which Sebastian passed to her. She read through it, her brow furrowing.

“But she was so excited to meet, why would she not come?” Sebastian asked, sounding defeated. Anne pondered for a moment before placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“This letter isn’t from her Sebastian; she didn’t write this.” Anne spoke quietly, passing the letter to Solomon for him to look over. Solomon hummed in agreement. He’d seen enough of your letters to Sebastian to last him a lifetime and he could tell by the writing style that it wasn’t you who had written it. Sebastian looked up at the hum, he was confused. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions about the letter.

“Are you certain?” He asked, Anne and Solomon both nodded. It wasn’t from (Y/N). Sebastian walked over to his bed and pulled out a box from underneath containing previous letters that you had sent him. He pulled one out at random and compared the two.

Sebastian!

I can’t make this weekend in Hogsmeade, Weasley is piling assignments on me and I can’t afford to fall behind. I’ll make it up to you, I promise!

Your friend,

(Y/N)

“There’s definitely a difference. Who could it be from?” Sebastian asked out loud. Then Sebastian remembered something that could be important. His expression changed from one of sadness to one of anger.

“(Y/N) mentioned once that her parents, especially her father are very overprotective of her. It must be from them.” He spoke quickly, his mind was running at a thousand miles per minute. Anne looked on thoughtfully before standing up and going to a cupboard near the door, producing two brooms.

“Then we best go and get her, hadn’t we?”

With a farewell to their uncle, Sebastian and Anne boarded their brooms and kicked off, heading for (Y/N)’s home.

(Y/N)’s POV

You had been in your room for almost two weeks, only leaving to use the bathroom and for meals with your parents which were silent. Your mum came up to see you everyday to check on you, she agreed that your father had been harsh towards you, however she had no power to stop him. At least it made you feel like you had an ally somewhat.

On the day you were supposed to meet Sebastian in Hogsmeade, you refused to leave your room. You refused to socialise with your parents and kept to yourself, your father was set on you not speaking to boys at Hogwarts and would do anything in his power to stop you. Even if that meant keeping you away from everyone. You felt your tears begin to flow when the clock chimed 1 o’clock. It was the time that you were supposed to meet Sebastian at the Three Broomsticks. You swung your feet off the edge of the bed, feeling the touch the cool wooden floorboards sent a chill down your spine.

You debated making a start on the summer homework that had been set for you when you heard a knock on the front door. Curiosity got the better of you, you poked your head out of your bedroom which had a direct view of the front door. You watched your father walk to the front door and pull it open, which is when you heard his voice.

“Hello Mr (Y/L/N), I’m Sebastian and this is my sister Anne, we’re here to see (Y/N).” Sebastian spoke with a tone of confident. You heard your father scoff as he went to slam the door in Sebastian’s face, but before he could Sebastian placed his foot between the door and the frame, barging his way in with Anne right behind him.

“Where is she?” Sebastian said coldly, his Slytherin colours shining through, his words were icy cold towards your father. You stepped out of your room and walked down a few steps, trying to catch his eye. He noticed you almost immediately, holding his hand out towards you, urging you to come to him.

“(Y/N), do not go with this boy. If you do, you shall never return here.” Your father threatened. His tone matched that of Sebastian’s, icy cold. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Were you about to give up the family life that you’d had for the past sixteen years for Sebastian Sallow, a boy you had known for a year? You thought for a moment before making your choice. You took Sebastian’s hand and glared at your father.

“Then I suppose this will be the last time you see me father.” You spoke, making your intentions clear. Your father turned to the cupboard where he had thrown your broom and owl, pulling them out harshly and throwing them towards you. Thankfully they were both still safe. Your father gave you ten minutes to pack your things and leave the house, never to return. You and Anne quickly packed everything in your room while Sebastian stood in the doorway, staring daggers at your father.

You dragged your trunk down the stairs and put it outside with the rest of your belongings, your entire life packed into a trunk. You looked past your father and saw your mum weeping, her face bearing a very solemn expression. Once the three of you were outside, your father slammed the door behind you. You looked to Sebastian, he’d come for you and in that moment, you knew you had made the right choice to leave with him and Anne.

“You can stay with us in Feldcroft if you’d like. I’m sure uncle Solomon would be fine with it.” Anne spoke, breaking your gaze away. You smiled sadly and gave a small nod, knowing that this would probably be the last time that you saw your childhood home. Sebastian wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you away from the cottage, further down the street so it was out of view.

Somehow, between the three of you, you managed to transport you belongings back to Feldcroft with very few incidents, aside from Sebastian nearly losing your trunk on the way. Once you landed, Sebastian gave Anne a look, in which Anne smirked and disappeared inside the family home. Sebastian pulled you into a tight hug which you returned, once he loosened his grip, he raised his hand and brushed a few stray hairs away from your face before placing his lips on yours. The kiss was passionate and felt like a lifetime even though it was mere seconds. When you pulled away, you smiled at him.

“I missed you Sebastian Sallow.”

“I missed you too (Y/N) (Y/L/N)”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader

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deluxe-rabbitsu · 9 months

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[Cue happy birthday song in epic mode]

Today is a day where I get a tenfold key set and I'm excited, wonder who's going to greet me? I wanted to make a full on illustration like the groovy art I made for glomas but I got lazy and the anime style is so hard to recreate ;;

More thoughts about Yuunise birthday down below! 🎉

So, I'll explain more of the gifts she has received from her friends.

– Birthday girl sash

Her first birthday on twisted wonderland, she was a little awkward as she received congratulations and well wishes from her friends (even though she didn't said anything about her birthday, Grim snitched); one of the first gifts she received was a nice perfume bottle with a beautiful peach scent. Cater's gift!

– Birthday Jacket

Second birthday, she's getting a bit more open about her birthday since by now the word had spread from the last reunion; it reached sweet Kalim's ears and he was the first one to search Yuunise to get her a birthday gift. A nice set of very good quality nail polishes, now Yuunise can have a nice coat of nail polish that doesn't chip away easily.

– Broomquet attire

One of the most beautiful and meaningful gifts she's ever received, by her third birthday she woke up to find a mysterious box on the foot of her bed; opening it revealed a bunch of envelopes that were sent from the first years. They were letters that sent the honest and full feelings of each of her friends...it was obvious to say that the prefect didn't resist the tears.

– Platinum Jacket

Four birthdays had passed and by now she had been totally open of her birthday, even being the first time that she planned a party for herself; a certain little sweetheart was already waiting for his invitation to arrive and when it did, he wasted no time to get his gift ready. A nice arrangement of Yuunise favorite flowers (tulips!) And something that she's had an fixation on, a couple of owl's feathers. She had mentioned in a joking way that if she ever had an owl feather given to her, she was going to smooch the person who's given it. Rook got his smooch without any excuse.

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thecrystalquill · 9 months

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A/N: The crossover continues! Last chapter of the year I think, so happy holidays and you'll hear from me soon! P.S. Hermione Granger isn’t the perfect, well-behaved goody-two-shoes everyone makes her out to be and I will die on that hill!

Leave a like and comment when you reach the end :)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Introduction Your First Year Letter

Chapter Twelve ~ A Revelation

Mail came on Monday morning, owls flying overhead dropping parcels and letters on people’s laps. Mortis stood out, as always, with his vast wingspan and long neck. Most of Slytherin House were getting used to his presence, some barely even flinched when a woosh of air knocked passed their heads, but thankfully there were still a few who startled at the sight enough to screech. It certainly boosted his ego.

(Y/N) was sat adjusting the clips in her hair when he landed on the table, dropping a small package on her plate of eggs and toast, then hunching over the table to stare menacingly at a third year nearby with a plate full of bacon and bread. She smirked as the boy whimpered at the eye-contact, holding out his sandwich with a shakey hand and trying not to scream when the vulture snatched it from his grasp.

“He’s not havin’ much,” Saoirse commented, eating a poptart from the pack her parents had sent.

Holding up the parcel, (Y/N) noticed some red smudges on the package and nodded. “I can see why.” She said, taking a knife from the table to cut the string holding the letter onto the box, showing Saoirse the stained brown paper. “He already ate.”

As usual, the envelope was charcoal with shining black wax displaying the Addams crest. With the table knife firmly in her grasp, (Y/N) sliced open the top with ease, taking out the pages to read.

She’d sent her letter on the Saturday afternoon, eager to re-tell the events of the Quidditch match, knowing her family would be interested. She hadn’t expected a reply so soon, but was glad for it all the same. This time, (Y/N) recognised her mother’s neat, swirling penmanship on the pages.

Dear (Y/N),

Thank you for the photographs – Quidditch seems absolutely marvellous. We are delighted that you had such a nice time, & Pugsley is more eager than ever to learn to fly a broom, perhaps you can teach him what you have learnt in your lessons when you return. We are so very pleased that you have made a new acquaintance, what a good influence she seems – setting fire to a teacher. We should have to meet her.

Wednesday apologises for not being able to write to you this week, but she & Pugsley were playing in the kitchen and she burnt her fingers on Grandmama’s cauldron. Though she cannot write with it, she is rather disappointed that she will have no scarring to show for it.

I hope you have been doing well with your studies & your own ambitions; your father reminds you that he will be testing your sword skills when you return in December, & Wednesday will be very disappointed if you will not be of enough challenge (in her own words, of course, darling).

We hope you enjoy your gift for this week – darling, if you had told us sooner that there was no coffee at Hogwarts we would have sent you some ages ago. How dreadful for you. I have no doubt you’ll savour it now, & do tell us when you run out next time.

Your father & I are missing you torturously, the house feels so different in your absence. We simply cannot wait to see you again.

Have a wonderful time, & do tell us of any trouble you make. Reply soon.

With love and pain,

Your mother & family. X

(Y/N) smiled at the letter as she placed it back into the envelope, then quickly began opening the small box before her. The smell of ground coffee wafted through the air as she pulled the bag out; it was strong and of good quality, but most importantly it was the instant kind; hot water was far easier to get than a coffee machine, after all. And to the side of the bag, she was pleased to find a new mug to pair with it, a polished black skin and deep red interior, a red cat’s eye decorating the front. Immediately she began looking for a teapot and sugar to put in her mug, excited to have her first coffee in months. “How long do we have until we have to be in class?” She asked to whoever would answer.

Bridget, who was sat two seats away, leaned over to answer. “Fifteen minutes,” she said, downing the rest of her pumpkin juice and reaching for her bag.

(Y/N) nodded and began mixing three spoons of coffee into the hot water she’d managed – luckily the pot had just enough left for one cup. “I guess I’ll just bring this with me then.”

The girls rushed through the chilly stone hallways towards the Transfiguration classroom, (Y/N) grasping her mug with both hands like it was the most dear thing in the world, ignoring Saoirse’s whispered giggles as she chanted ‘my precious’ over her shoulder (which Bridget didn't understand at all).

Professor McGonagall was writing on the chalkboard as they entered the classroom and took their seats, talking amongst themselves. (Y/N) spotted Hermione already sat down and waved, pleased to see the girl wave back. “Miss Addams,” McGonagall addressed her calmly, drawing a few eyes her way, “I do remember telling you all that beverages are not allowed in my classroom.” She reminded with a raised brow.

(Y/N) hesitated in her seat, then let out a deep, tortured sigh and quickly drank the last five gulps and slipped the empty mug into her bag, wishing she could have savoured it a little longer and not scalded her mouth.

(Y/N) was starting on the B’s in the Divination section of the library, piling up any books that could be useful before joining Saoirse and Rahim at a table. They had become a sort of study group, helping each other with their work. Rahim slowly started to become more comfortable around (Y/N), now that he knew she wasn’t evil or insane like some of the earlier rumours suggested. He was good at DADA and Charms, found History of Magic painfully boring, and occasionally made a joke or comment dark enough to earn a snicker from her. And he was always telling Saoirse some new and interesting fact he’d read about when he was supposed to be focusing on a different subject.

As December drew nearer, teachers had started handing out more and more homework before the holidays, and the library was always full because of it; no one wanted to fall behind and have to take any of it home.

So far, (Y/N) was enjoying most of her subjects for this term – they were all so much more interesting than anything she would have learned in a plain muggle secondary school. Herbology was proving to be incredibly interesting, all of those dangerous plants waiting to bite your hand off or poison your lungs. Perhaps she could snatch a seed or two to give her mother for Yule, a Venemous Tentacular would look spectacular in the greenhouse.

She hadn’t expected to be given written homework for flying class, though. But she supposed it made sense; brooms were a mode of transportation, after all. She had to write about the different manoeuvrers they’d learned, and how to perform them, the different positions in Quidditch, and a whole list of the rules. It was a lot of work, but if (Y/N) wanted to get a broom for her birthday she would have to do well in class.

It was just a little difficult to focus enough to get things done when her mind was set on other things.

Tapping her quill on her parchment, (Y/N) let out a sigh and rolled her neck, hearing Saoirse and Rahim talking about Charms in the background. She was just about to give up on her final paragraph when she saw a familiar head of bushy brown hair pass down the bookcase to her left. “Hermione.” She voiced, half a whisper and half a shout, seeing the girl turn around and peak her head out from the corner.

The Gryffindor approached her desk, smiling shyly with some books clutched to her chest. “Hello,” she said, looking to (Y/N)’s friends.

“Would you like to sit with us?” (Y/N) asked – if she was going to start having friends she might as well commit (she’d never had many before, so what was there to lose?). She gestured to the seat in front of her, beside Rahim who smiled at her.

“Oh,” Hermione blushed, looking a little caught off guard, “really?”

“Sure ya can,” Saoirse agreed with a grin, “we’re just studyin’.”

Hermione nodded and sat down next to the Ravenclaw, blushing at all the attention. It was then that (Y/N) figured Hermione didn’t have a lot of friends, she seemed so taken aback by the offer and flustered by the eyes on her, and like she didn’t quite know what to say. “This is Rahim and my roommate Saoirse,” she introduced, glad that Hermione was settling herself as she repeated her name back.

“We’re just working on the Charms homework,” said Rahim, letting his hair fall into his eyes – a nervous habit (Y/N) had noticed, “have you done it yet?”

Hermione nodded and pulled on her sleeve. “I was working on it earlier, but it got a bit busy in my common room so… I came here.” She nervously answered, adjusting her red and gold tie.

“None of your friends worked on it yet?” Saoirse asked innocently as she fiddled with the wrapping of a lollipop, offering one to Hermione.

Shaking her head, the brunette seemed to flush again. “No, erm, I don’t mind studying with them, but they always ask me to read over it for them and I’m starting to figure out that it’s how they make sure they’re getting the right answers.” She explained with the corner of a smile. “I just tend to work faster on my own, is all.” Then her eyes widened as she stumbled to correct herself. “N-not that I don’t want to sit with you! I do – I just meant--”

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) interrupted, dipping her black quill into her ink and continuing to write, “we get it. You can sit here whenever.” She said, looking to the others for confirmation, who nodded in agreement.

“Oh, okay.” Hermione let out a breath, taking out her own writing supplies with a more genuine smile. “Thank you.”

The four of them continued on their homeworks, occasionally asking for an answer or opinion, or starting a discussion about a relevant topic. Hermione started to come out of her shell some more, chatting nicely with the group. Before (Y/N) knew it, she was completing her last essay and finally opening one of the Divination books she’s chosen to skim: Answers in the Remains: A Study in Bone-Throwing by Matilda Marrowe.

“That’s an interesting choice,” Hermione commented, pointing to the cover with the end of her quill, “we don’t get to study Divination until Third Year, though.” She said, obviously curious about the reason for her read.

(Y/N) hesitated her answer, unsure of what to say and what to leave out. She had been keeping this whole Contact a secret, even from her family – even from Wednesday – but then again, so far she’d come up with nothing, maybe she could use some… input.

Glancing at her other two friends, seeing them distracted by an in-depth discussion on Animagi, (Y/N) decided it wouldn’t be so bad to reveal a little. “I’m… looking for something,” she began, “but I don’t know where to look, so I’m looking for some clues to give me… I don’t know, some sort of a start.”

Hermione frowned in thought, tapping her finger on her book. “Well, what are you looking for exactly?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I’m not sure.” But she realised that her vague answers weren’t getting her any help, so she relented and leaned in close. “On Hallowe’en, I performed a séance,” she whispered, ignoring how Hermione’s eyes widened in fear, “I was supposed to make Contact with my grandparents, but I accidentally spoke to someone else.” She explained, hearing Hermione gasp. “They told me to find something, but they faded away before they could tell me what.”

Hermione seemed to ponder this for a moment, looking weary but interested nonetheless. “So, you want to figure out what the Message could mean?” She asked, biting her lip when (Y/N) simply shrugged in frustration. “Well… have you tried to… you know, get back in touch?”

(Y/N) grimaced. “Well, no. But it will be more difficult now that Hallowe’en has passed and the Veil is stronger; it was hard enough to keep a Connection before as it was. I don’t have enough experience to do it safely.”

“Well, isn’t there something else you can do? Maybe anything in the Message you could look into some more?” Hermione asked.

(Y/N) gave Hermione a suspicious look, fiddling with the pages of her notebook. “You don’t seemed to be freaked out by this.” She said bluntly, leaving an open question hanging.

“Well, as far as magic goes, I suppose séances aren’t that bad,” she said surprisingly, “there’s some old ladies down my street who do them, not that I ever thought they were really doing much. I’m sure they just have an Ouija board and talk in silly voices.”

(Y/N) laughed then, nodding at her new friend. Yes, her parents would certainly like this one. “Aren’t you full of surprises – first degree arson and now an enabler of amateur Dark Magic. Not such the teacher’s pet after all.” She grinned, making Hermione laugh and shush her.

Despite being only a year younger than (Y/N), Wednesday often seemed to have wisdom beyond her years. She was very well-read, took pride in her knowledge, and enjoyed a good mystery. For these reasons, (Y/N) knew she was her best option for advice on this little paranormal problem. Of course, it helped that she was the one person (Y/N) knew she could always be honest with.

Which was exactly why she was writing to her now.

Dear Wednesday,

I know you’ve burnt your hand and are unable to write, but please respond as soon as you are able. Something rather strange has happened and I’m not sure what to make of it, but trying to work it all out on my own has been too difficult.

Glancing to the opening journal on her desk and the scattered sketches laid over the black pages, (Y/N) twirled her quill and decided how exactly to phrase what she wanted to write.

First, please do not repeat any of this to a single soul – this is strictly our secret – not even our parents can know.

When I wrote home after Hallowe’en, I said that I had failed to Connect with our grandparents, which is true, but what I didn’t write is that I accidentally made a Connection with someone – or something – else.

(Y/N) recounted the entire evening in her letter, describing the Visions she’d had in as great details as she could. Everything from the noise she’d heard in the Dungeons to the weakness she’d felt after the séance.

She wasn’t really sure what Wednesday could do to help, or what advice she may give, but (Y/N) realised she was hitting a wall in this maze of questions. Who better to trust?

Please reply as soon as you can, anything you can give me at this point I’m sure will help.

Awaiting your reply,

(Y/N)

Sealing the letter with the red wax from her candle, (Y/N) stamped it closed and sat back, studying her sketched out Visions again. Where to begin? The charcoal figure reaching out in the dark mocked her, like it was asking ‘why can’t you figure it out?’ every time she looked at it.

The air was bitterly cold outside, but the chill clung to her comfortably. There was an old tree near the edge of the Forbidden Forest that (Y/N) had set her eye on. A tall, old holly tree with a wide trunk and sharp leaves; its red berries were plump and poisonous, a beautiful thing. A raven sat perched on one of the branches, staring down at her with watchful dark eyes, unbothered by her presence.

She was in need of the alone time, and getting out of the castle for a while would do her some good. There wasn’t anywhere close by to practice her sword skills, and she wasn’t sure if her weapon would be confiscated. The séance was one thing, but Wednesday would certainly have comments if she returned home and her swordsmanship skills had declined.

Lunging forward, (Y/N) swung her rapier from the left, slicing the bark of the twisting tree trunk as it hit. She spun in the other direction and swung out her blade again, hitting the wood with practiced accuracy. The skirt of her black coat swished out with each movement, buttoned up out of the way.

It was therapeutic, in a way, a way to take out her frustrations. The repetitive motion of hitting her target and her smooth footwork soon tamed her anger. Why couldn’t this spirit just tell her what to do? Why should she have to do it all herself? What would happen if she simply ignored the whole thing and did nothing?

Nothing good, her intuition told her. If someone had contacted her from the Beyond with a Message, ignoring it would almost certainly anger them, and who knows what may happen then?

The first snow of the season was starting to settle, a thin layer of white coating the ground, but beneath the forest trees (Y/N) was sheltered from it. It was nice; snow always brought such deep silence, a peace like no other. It was exactly the calm she needed.

What she didn’t need was an interruption.

The forest was so cloaked in silence that even the smallest snap of a twig sounded much louder than it was; (Y/N) whipped around immediately, rapier flying out in her outstretched hand.

“Merlin’s pants!” Cried the person standing at the other end of her blade, the sharp point just inches from their nose.

(Y/N) lowered her weapon and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

The boy frowned back and tightened his green scarf around his neck, still eyeing the sword warily, as if she was going to lift it up and slice at his face (he pondered that she probably would if he pushed her buttons too much). “I should ask you the same thing.” Malfoy replied, wondering how she’d managed to sneak a weapon like that into the school.

“I asked first.” (Y/N) said, gripping the hilt in her dominant hand in frustration.

Malfoy scoffed. “I’m not answering until you do.”

The nerve of this boy, (Y/N) thought. First he interrupts her peaceful afternoon in the forest, where she was supposed to be alone and away from prying eyes like his – and then he tries to bargain an explanation from her with the argument of a child!

Well, they were actually children… but the poor argument was still beneath him.

Sighing in frustration, (Y/N) relented; too tired to play his stupid games. “I’m practising.” She answered with a glare.

“Practising what?”

“Oh I’m golfing- what do you think?” She spat sarcastically, waving her blade at her side to draw his eye to it. “Now, why are you here?” She repeated in annoyance as she sheathed her sword, not feeling much like striking the tree in his judgemental presence.

He shrugged, toeing his shoe in the damp earth. “Just walking, felt like doing something I’m not supposed to.”

It probably shouldn’t have, but the answer surprised her; Draco Malfoy didn’t seem like the type to risk getting into trouble just for the sake of it. Then again, she didn’t know him very well.

The Forbidden Forest was completely out of bounds to unsupervised students, with the exception of the Care for Magical Creatures clearing just at the edge of the woods – even the faculty was advised against lone entry, for the many dangers that lurked in its endless shadows. It was exactly why it made for such a nice walk when in need of some space; so perhaps they were there for much the same reasons.

“How’d you sneak that in?” Malfoy asked after a stretch of silence, leaning against the birch tree beside him.

(Y/N) glanced down at the simple black sheath that hung at her hip and rolled her eyes. “Everyone at this school is carrying around what is potentially the most harmful weapon in existence and you’re worried about a sharp peace of metal?”

The boy’s brows furrowed as he seemed to contemplate it. “I didn’t think of it like that…”

“Of course you didn’t.” She said, it was obvious to her so far that a lot of purebloods her age hadn’t considered much of anything regarding comparisons between magic and non-magic things.

Malfoy scowled at her, though the effect was dampened by his pink nose and cheeks. He didn’t seem to have much to say in return, only moving to pull his scarf tighter around his neck to keep the chill off of his skin.

She hated that he was here; out of all of the people at Hogwarts who could have disturbed her afternoon, why did it have to be this stupid, arrogant pureblood? Honestly, she would rather have been caught by Snape. But, instead of allowing his presence to punish her and sour the atmosphere, (Y/N) decided to ignore him completely. Just because he was there, it doesn’t mean she had to talk to him, does it?

Turning her back on the boy, (Y/N) unsheathed her rapier with her head held high, listening to the sharp ssssssht that rang out as the blade glided out of its casing. She could feel his eyes on her, but refused to acknowledge him still. For a few blissful minutes, (Y/N) was able to continue her practise uninterrupted, focusing on nothing but her footwork and wrist-movements. But then Malfoy had to go and open his mouth again.

“Why do you do that?” He asked from his spot against the birch tree. She couldn’t quite tell if his tone was condescending or curious; so she decided to assume the former.

“Do what?” She replied as she lunged forward toward the holly tree, focusing on her posture.

“It seems like a pretty useless skill to me.” Said Malfoy – did everything that came out of his mouth have to be irritating?

(Y/N) huffed and gritted her teeth, slicing the bark in front of her at a forty-five degree angle and wishing it was his face. “Shows what you know. But it’s a very sophisticated sport, so I don’t expect you to understand.” She withheld a smirk. There was only one good thing about Draco Malfoy: it was so easy to get under his skin.

Malfoy bristled and stood straight, a frustrated noise escaping him. “What would you know about sophisticated sports? I play Quidditch, you know! I’m going to be on next year’s team!” He argued, his face flushing from pink to red as he pointed a finger at her.

She barely paid attention to him, knowing it would only annoy him more (oh she certainly took pleasure in annoying him). “Sure, Quidditch is a boastful sport, but that’s hardly going to be useful.” (Y/N) said, flicking her braid over her shoulder and pulling her black sleeves back over her wrists before she continued her graceful movements, her blade slicing through the air. “We Addams’ take pride in our mastery of weapons – it’s how we show our capability to protect our family. How are you going to help anyone with Quidditch? Throw a ball at the enemy?”

Malfoy was the very picture of angry; face flushed, hands curled into fists, stance stiff and upright – it was laughable, really. “No – I’m a Seeker.”

“Oh, so even less helpful, then.” (Y/N) smirked, spinning her sword at her side. “At least you can fly away.”

“I bet I can fly faster than you!” He retorted, scrambling for a victory in this losing battle of verbal chess. “How about it? I’ll race you to… to the top of Hogwarts!” Malfoy dared, pointing a gloved finger to the castle peaking through the trees.

(Y/N) glanced behind her to the pointed towers in the near distance, folding her arms. “No.”

“Because you don’t think you can?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Malfoy laughed condescendingly. “You’re just scared.”

She glowered at him darkly, gritting her teeth. “I don’t get scared. I just have better things to do than waste my time on stupid bets.” She said, turning her back on him and deciding to head back to the school. But she still had one last blow to deliver, just to really get on his nerves. “Besides, you already lost the last bet you made on a broom – Harry Potter really owes you one, you got him noticed.”

Now that really ought to piss him off.

Taking the snow-dusted path through the forest, (Y/N) allowed herself a wicked smile at the sound of Malfoy’s anger as he groaned and kicked at the ground in frustration. He was awfully fun to toy with.

As she emerged through the trees, checking for any people nearby who could report her whereabouts, (Y/N) looked up at Hogwarts as she considered the boy’s bet; how difficult would it be to fly all the way to the top? It was certainly very high, a gradual ascent seemed like the best option, but the many towers and features of the architecture would prove to be obstacles. It was then, as she was walking down the hill, that (Y/N) noticed two things. The first was that two large towers very close to each other were almost identical. The second: they looked exactly like the snow-covered tower in her Visions from Beyond.

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bluepallilworld · 5 months

Text

Palida's Day

The sky is blue, blue like the moon. It is salty too and she's unsure if the wind is soft or harsh. Her hands squeeze hard on fur as the surroundings shifted at an incredible speed. A laugh bubbles its way out of her non-existent throat and orange fireflies start to dance around. Her giggles are loud and clear and nature bursts into life with each vibration, growing with bright blasts of colors that end up covering the sky. Her loyal rabbit stops and she flies out of the saddle. A cloud catches her. A dizzying light envelops her, flashing rapidly from a dull red to vivid blue-green, each flicker sending subtle jolts along her spine.

Palida awoke with a bustling energy coursing through her every limbs. It was exhilarating.

She jumped down her bed like a spring and took a moment to twirl and jump with happy little shouts. It always helped to get some of the extra energy from the sleep out right after waking to avoid getting into situations like running into a wall trying to do anything. She giggled and flapped her hands, kicked her feet and just had fun being as loud as she could do without making someone scramble to her room in confused panic. Once her morning routine successfully finished, she could already feel her internal fire chill down a bit. Just what was needed to not get into troubles but not enough to feel sleepy too early in the day. She should be able to go all the way through to her afternoon nap without faltering this time! And her parents will tell her how proud they are of her and maybe she'll have two desserts instead of one! With that very thought sitting right in front of her mind, the young girl runned down the hallway. Direction the kitchen. She sangsung while trailing her hand along the wall, jumping above imaginary lines and dodging invisible dangers.

"Kitchen, kitchen, let's go to the kit-kit-kit-kitchen!"

The monster pushed the door open and stormed into the room, eager to start the day. She hopped on a chair and finally looked around to see who was up.

On the chair right across the table was sitting an owl, busy meticulously peeling off the skin of some tomatoes before eating them. That was the last visitor, Charley. Or was it Jone? Asturd? She just couldn't remember it right now and she couldn't care less. They were a very boring guy... They didn't even glance at Palida as she made her chair wobble in thoughts. Nobody else was in the kitchen yet. With a determined stare at the big clock over the oven, she determined it might be a bit too early for her dads.

Meaning!

She could eat whatever she wanted for breakfast!

Not wasting a minute, Palida jumped down on the floor tiles.

The action made the room swim for an instant before she readjusted herself. Aw, the sleeping rush was already ending... No more running around until she got something tasty in her belly she guessed.

Well, she just had to rummage through the closets for a second and she would bounce back for at least another half hour!The chair's feet made some unholy screech as she dragged it to the cupboard, making the visitor groan. There! Palida cautiously climbed back on it and stood on her tippy toes to reach her potential breakfast. Surprisingly, she did not fall during the adventure and the girl felt very smug about it. She really was getting better at this! Once the monster got her hands on her favorite cereals, some really sugary things shaped like carrots, she scurried right back to the table and wasted no time plunging her hand into the box with all the attention to scarf down the food the fastest possible.

"Pali, what did we say about eating right out of the box?"

The girl gulped down what was in her mouth before turning towards the new adult in the room, who was currently leaning on the door frame. Wearing a louse black shirt and a lopsided crown.

"To... not do it?"

Palida answered her papa hesitantly, scrunching her memory trying to remember the exact phrasing of the advice she heard almost every morning.

Dream sighed and yawned once before approaching the cereal mess on the table. He softly brushed his hand against his daughter's cheek, making her look at him.

"Yes and to clean after if you inevitably end up doing it again."

"I was going to!", the girl lied easily, not even trying to look shameful about the endeavor.

"Sure, you were."

Dream crossed his arms, his only functioning eye light staring at his child, a slight grin making the expression softer. Palida watched her papa slowly retreat in the corridor and swiftly come back with a hand hidden behind his back, her head tilting in confusion. What was he holding onto now?

"Now guess who got out all clean and fresh from the laundry washer?"

Red and beige fabric, floppy ears above a limp cloth like body.

"Bunby!"

"Oh, is that its name today?"

Palida ignored the question and jumped on her beloved rabbit plush she reluctantly let go of yesterday after a jam accident. She squeezed it in her arms, letting the smell of clean fabric rubbed against her nasal bone. She stayed that way as her papa swiftly picked her up and busied himself cleaning her food mess, content to just cuddle up there silently.

After the table (and floor) was clean again and some conversation went over her head between her papa and the guest, she stretched up to pat her hand against the adult cheek.

"Yes my light?", he answered after some frustrating long seconds, glancing at her.

"Is Popy still on bed?"

"In bed, lil' star. And yes, I do believe so. Should we...?"

The girl giggled and nodded vigorously. They should!

They made their way quietly towards the biggest bedroom of the house, barely glancing back when a soft sound and a squick told them their current guest had finally left this plane.

The door creaked despite their best attempt at staying discreet.

Warm room. King sized bed. A shape hiding under a fuzzy blanket, curled around a pillow.

Palida stared at her papa. He stared back for a minute before grinning.

And just like that, she was launched like a canon-ball on her still asleep father. Action that allowed a loud screech of surprise out of the victim and a loud fit of laugh out of the victorious warrior.

Cross, now fully awake, looked at the bundle of energy sitting on his chest with a quirked brow.

"Pal, pumpkin, are you obligated to wake me up like that, everyday?"

She knew that despite his words, her popy was not mad. Mostly because he was half grinning (and that was not a mad grin! She was really good at noticing those!) and his hand was softly brushing the top of her skull. So she just giggled and went for what would be the funniest.

She pointed at her other parent, leaning on the far wall and took her most innocent voice.

"Papa idea!"

"Oh so that's what it is? Dream was the real culprit this whole time?"

The "culprit" barely had a second to widen his eyes and even less to attempt a desperate dash towards the exit before a cushion violently hit his chest and made him awkwardly stumble backward.

Palida shrieked in delight watching the pillow fight start between the two. Laughters filled the room as various soft weapons flew in the air. She bounced on a corner of the king sized bed, clapping her small hands.

That was so fun!

The world exploded into tiny little shards of light and darkness. Pain erupted from her face and soon her back collided with the floor. She had tumbled down the bed after an accidental pillow hit her square. For a second the air felt still, no one in the room dared moving.

Then a wail resounded, loud and clear, escaping from the girl's mouth as her whole body shook. It was all it took to make the adults scramble to her side, whispering sweet comfort and apologies and promising treats.

Her nasal bone hurted and her back was on fire! What were they talking about stuff being "fine"? She was literally dying! She tried to muse her thoughts aloud but she could only get out pitiful and retched sobs making her body feel all fuzzy and twitchy.

Strong arms picked her up, rocking her gently and hummed words made their way through her mind. A song she knew well wormed its way through the pain.

"Hey there firefly, what's going in your mind? Hey there firefly, why is your light snuffed out?

The night is dark and my fingers are frozen...

Will you warm me up, dear firefly?

Will you light my path, dear firefly?

Will you hug my heart, dear firefly?

Hey there firefly, what's going in your mind? Hey there firefly, why is your light snuffed out?

If you're tired, I'll bring you to bed, dear firefly!

If you're sick, I'll take care of you, dear firefly!

If you're sad, I'll hold you close, dear firefly!

So please stick around firefly...

Lay your head in my arms...

And... take a nap with me..."

Words started blurring at the end, exhaustion spreading through the small monster limbs and soon everything gently turned to black.

"She fell asleep."

Cross examined his daughter's face, lingering on a small scratch on her nasal bone. His partner leaned against him, sighing. He delicately put their child in his husband's arms to let him fuss for a minute. Once they were sure no real damage was done, they decided to tuck her into their bed to let her nap in peace. The red light pulsating under her bones indicated she was in "low battery" mode. Cross grinned as he knew how much Dream loathed when he used that to describe her state.

A cat, a cat is lapping from the water in her hands. It pours out of her hands. Onto her lap. Onto the floor. It makes a pool. Shimmering like jewels. It is dark. Black. Dark. Wet. She doesn't like it. Her movements are snailish. Light. Sudden. Disappear. Appears. Dissed a pear. Black again. Again. Again. Again.

Palida woke up for the second time of the day. But this time she wasn't as energized as she should after a good sleep. The child groaned and turned around, wiggling like a crazy little worm. She finally peeled open her eyes, only to marvel that she was laying in her parents' bed! The big bouncy bed! She didn't jump on it however, simply tapping her hand on it appreciating the texture of the mattress.

Glancing around, she narrowed her eyes at a pillow lying on the ground. Meanie.

Palida rolled until she sat on the side of the bed, tugging a light sheet on her shoulders as she carefully set her foot on the ground.

Now.

What to do?

Where was everybody, she mused.

Humming and huffing, she strolled towards the corridor in quest of some living beings that left her all alone. Then she noticed a smell. A food smell! And run right to the kitchen. Before stopping and running right back into the bedroom, grabbing her plush then she trotted back through the corridor.

The sheet fell at one point and would lay on the ground for a while.

"POPY! PAPA! WHAT'S COOKING?"

She burst into the room, her arms already up to be grabbed.

And grabbed she was, picked up and put in her chair in front of a plate of food.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty, are you feeling better? We're sorry for the flying cushion."

Cross was promptly ignored as the child marveled at what was seating on her plate. A steak shaped like a kitten and yellow beans.

"KITTY MEAT!"

Maybe the others continued to talk but she couldn't care less with how busy she quickly became trying to cut her steak. One ear. Then the other. The head. The paws. The tail was the funniest part! Worm. And whatever the rest was. She attempted to eat the beans, one by one, but they kept fleeing so she just grabbed them with her bare hands when she thought nobody was watching.

Palida was smart like that.

She jumped out of her seat before getting any dessert. Something was ringing and she had to figure out what was ringing exactly.

Nobody shouted after her to come back so she figured it must be fine.

Now the ringing.

Back to the corridor.

She already heard that ringing before.

Palida checked the bathroom.

No ringy here.

She checked the big mystery closet (because it was so big inside) of the living room.

Not there.

What did that ringing mean anyway?

It was not the oven ring.

It was not the fridge nor the washing machine.

What was it again?

Palida turned to her plush and stared into his fabricated eyes, to see if the answer was hidden there.

It was not.

She readjusted its hat and continued hunting for the treasure noise.

It was important.

It meant something important.

The child ended up in her room, glancing around, smiling at her various toys laying around.

It must have been here, she looked everywhere else.

At the end, her eyes stopped on the high shelf who held stuff she didn't have the right to play all the time with but were still very much hers.

She could see a bit of red from a device from her position (standing up on her bed).

...

THE FRIEND PHONE!

Knowing there was no way to get to it without help (believe her, she tried before), the small skeleton rushed back to the kitchen where her parents were cleaning the dishes and doing other boring adult things.

She all but bolted, launching herself to her papa's back, giggling and screeching.

They asked her what was up and she gleefully explained with all the strength she could muster at the moment.

"THEPHONEFRIENDISRINGINGPLEASEHELPMEICANTREACHIWANTTOIWANTTOWHATIFTHEYHANGUPQUICKQUICK-"

Seeing her magnificent try to explain fast was only provoking (very funny) faces of confusion on the two, she changed her plan and grabbed their hands to drag them where they needed to be. Right now.

Once that task achieved (all by herself, they did not follow, she had to drag them!), Palida pointed to the shelf and exclaimed with all the will of a master ordering its pet around:

"Bring me the phone."

They stared at her for a minute then at each other as if debating about something (nothing more important than bringing down the phone, she was sure of it).

Finally, her papa chuckled softly and reached for her treasure.

It was still ringing.

She answered the instant the object reached her eager hands.

"HELLO HELLO DO YOU HEAR ME?"

A chorus of voices answered, all mixing so horribly it was impossible to understand a thing.

The girl did not let go of the red engine however.

One last shout rang before a voice louder than the overs quieted the rest.

"Come on, kids, we talked about it... One at a time."

"LINTY!"

Palida had no struggle recognizing her older friend's voice and yelled her name excitedly.

"Hey, lil' star, it's been a while. I hope you're doing well! And your parents too."

Her parents exchanged a few greetings with their former guest and now the long distance friend of her daughter before said girl could continue the conversation.

"I'm dooing good! Popy sent me a cushion straight in the face and I didn't even cry!"

Her dad looked amused at the lie but didn't comment.

"Oh that's my warrior! I'm sure-"

A mix of voices stopped her a second.

"Palida, girl, you can tell me all your adventures later but the kids and I, we have something we need to tell you before. Can you turn on the video feed for me? It's the bottom button, the yellow one."

Her papa reached over her shoulder to point at the button and the child pushed it. A fuzzy image slowly appeared on the device and, squinting, Palida could make out the figures of maybe all of the children of Lint's orphanage, the adult holding the friend phone high.

The video shook a bit but got clear fast.

She didn't know all the kids' faces but she recognized some in the front row.

Abigail and Giren. Ebony. Lili in the chair on the right side. The selkie monster she liked but always forgot the name. Tuna maybe? Solky the fire chicken that claimed he was a phoenix. Even Dalty grumpy is there, frowning slightly less than usual.

Most of them seemed very excited about something.

Were they wearing party hats?

"Are you ready kids? At the count of three like we practiced!"

What?

"1"

Palida looked, confused, as the youngest wiggled around impatiently.

"2, Tody, I see you, get that flamethrower away."

What was happening?

"3!"

And at that moment, many sparkles appeared around the group. Magic was thrown, strings of water, fire and various magic bullets made the image crinkled and blurred.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PALIDA!"

The whole thing is joyful, chaotic and she swore the boy Lint called "Tody" did not put that flamethrower away.

But Palida stayed stuck as the shouted words wormed their way into her mind.

The girl turned around to face her parents and spluttered the beginning of the question, searching for the answer in their eyes.

"Is it really...?"

And they both smiled at her.

"Yes, it is your birthday, firefly."

That day promised to be great!

***************************************************

Dream belongs to jokublog, Shattered!Dream by galacii-gallery and post!dc!Dream is based on @zu-is-here's story Cross belongs to jakei95

My girl birthday was on the 19th but I forgor 💀

#my writing #Palida's Day #post dark cream shipkid #lockedverse #I had that thing in my notes for so longgggg #it was a thing I'd write a bit of when I was bored or just for funsies #so that's why Palida sounds a bit too young #for her current age #so let's say it happened a few years back or something #I love my happy girl #writing something (almost) pure fluff is very relaxing #and I like writing kiddies #it's fun #Palida

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slaymybreathaway · 1 year

Text

WASTELAND, BABY! [prologue]

Masterlist

Chapter List

[Word Count: 762]

July 30th 1994 ○ Neville's Bedroom

___________________________________

It was 11pm when Neville Longbottom heard a tapping sound on his bedroom window.

He was sitting ontop of his patchwork bed covers, in his pyjamas, reading a muggle book that he had found in an old bookshop near his house earlier that day.

At first he took no notice of the noise, it was often that branches hit against his window whenever the wind blew a certain way. However, when these 'branches' started making a squawking noise, he turned his attention away from the book in his hands.

The boy walked over to his window, where he saw a white barn owl sitting on the outside windowsill. The bird looked up at him, an ivory envelope held in it's beak. Neville opened his window slowly, trying his best not to scare the owl away.

"Thanks mate," he spoke, taking the envelope from the bird and watched as it flew away into the dark summer night.

He shut his window before turning the envelope over in his hands. It was thick and felt like it had something rectangular inside of it.

The address on the front was written in a neat-but-slanted way, which he recognised almost immediately to be the handwriting of Y/n Finnigan. Neville smiled, letting the excitement show on his face.

Y/n and Neville had known each other since their first year at Hogwarts. She was his friend, Seamus's twin sister so naturally, he was friends with her also.

The odd thing was, that over the summer months, Neville found himself feeling a strange buzz of happiness whenever she sent him a letter. It even got to the point where every letter that wasn't from her seemed unimportant.

He couldn't quite explain what he felt or why he felt it. So instead, he just put it down to the lonely-ness of Summer.

The front and the back of the envelope was covered with small doodles of stars and balloons. The smile on Neville's face, somehow, grew wider at the thought of her taking the time to draw them on, individually.

The boy opened the envelope just above the green wax seal on the back and out fell both a letter and a casette tape. He picked up the letter and started to read:

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

Dear Nev,

Happy Birthday!!! I was going to give you your present on the train to school but I just couldn't wait. I hope you like the mixtape (it's for the walkman, by the way)

See you soon,

Y/n

(PS. Tell your granny that I was asking for her)

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

After reading it a few times, Neville took the box out from under his bed that contained all of the letters she had sent over the past two months and placed the new one on top. He slid the box far enough under his bed that it couldn't be seen by anyone that walked into his room.

The boy rifled through the drawer in his bedside locker until he found what he was looking for, his walkman. When he bought the muggle device, he didn't realise that the music wasn't included so he couldn't use it... until now.

When he looked at the tape closely, he could see that it was labeled on either side with ☆Neville's Mixtape☆ written in red marker. He opened the walkman and carfully placed the tape in before putting the headphones on and pressing the "play" button.

The boy turned off the light and lay in his bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders as he heard the acoustic guitar play softly through the opening bars of the first song on the tape.

He couldn't help but imagine where Y/n was the first time she heard this song. Did it come on in the radio in her Dad's car? Or did she find the album that this song belonged to in a dusty old casette shop and waited until later that day to listen to it, when she was lying in bed. Just like he was doing right now. He smiled at the thought

A male voice sang softly the lyric:

"All the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl,"

Neville swore that he would remember those words forever beacause it was in that moment that he finally realised what that buzz of happiness was.

The was falling in love with her...

And man, did he feel the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

_____________________

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ecliptiz · 1 year

Text

MARAUDERS╰► PINTEREST BOARD’S

Including ➛ James Potter, Regulus Black, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape & Peter Pettigrew

James Potter ➛

( ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ - Qᴜᴇᴇɴ )

0:56 ━❍──────── -3:07

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ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

— The haunting notes of the music filled the room, an ethereal melody that seemed to emerge from the depths of another world. The scent of coffee hung in the air, intertwining with an enigmatic fragrance, as if an ancient secret was concealed within it. A gentle breeze whispered through the slightly ajar window, causing the crimson curtains to dance mysteriously, hinting at unseen forces at play.

The music player, seemingly of its own accord, played the song at a tempo that defied time, as if tapping into a forgotten rhythm from an age long gone. The lyrics, soft and almost whispered. In the midst of the room stood a figure wrapped in an red sweater – tufts of curly brown hair framed a face adorned with round glasses and a sly, enigmatic smile that seemed to hold untold secrets.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Remus Lupin ➛

( ꜱᴛᴀʀᴍᴀɴ - ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʙᴏᴡɪᴇ )

0:58 ━❍──────── -4:17

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— Crickets ceased their chirping as the haunting hoots of owls pierced the night sky. The eerie symphony of nocturnal creatures echoed through the air, enveloping the Hogwarts courtyard in an otherworldly ambiance. Bathed in the ethereal glow of a half-crescent moon, the once shrouded grassy expanse now revealed its mystical charm.

Amidst the nocturnal enchantment stood a figure shrouded in a tattered brown sweater, the sleeves rolled up to reveal weathered forearms. In his scarred hands, he clutched an ancient book whose pages seemed to whisper forgotten secrets.

A music player, seemingly out of place in this magical setting, perched silently on the ledge of a fountain. From its depths, a haunting melody filled the air, its soft voice cutting through the night like a siren's call.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Sirius Black ➛

( Qᴜᴇᴇɴ - ʙᴏʜᴇᴍɪᴀɴ ʀʜᴀᴘꜱᴏᴅʏ )

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— The vast common room lay deserted, imbued with an eerie stillness, the only sound a faint echo of a music box's calm but rushed melody that seemed to linger in the air like a ghostly presence.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, the rain outside gently tapped against the windowpanes, adding to the ambiance of mystery that enveloped the room. The night moon cast a dim glow, its faint light seeping through the large window, casting elusive shadows upon the floor.

Party streamers sprawled haphazardly, their once vibrant colors now a faded, chaotic mess. Red solo cups lay strewn on the ground and tables, some still bearing traces of spilled alcohol, while others stood empty, their revelry long spent.

Amidst this post-celebratory scene, a solitary figure reclined on the crimson couch, his body sprawled in a relaxed manner. A black leather jacket hung nonchalantly from his shoulders, accentuating his striking collarbones. With eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar, pulled into a peaceful slumber.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Peter Pettigrew ➛

( ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ - ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴛʟᴇꜱ )

1:34 ━❍──────── -3:10

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ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

— In the heart of a breathtaking flower field, a gentle breeze danced among the vibrant wildflowers, painting the landscape with a kaleidoscope of colors. Amidst this floral splendor, a boy found his place, nestled in a flattened haven surrounded by the bloom's delicate embrace. His blonde hair swayed like strands of golden silk, mirroring the playful rhythm of the wind.

Beside him, a music player spun gracefully, emanating an enchanting melody that blended soft lyrics and ethereal instruments. The music seemed to weave a spell, harmonizing with the serenity of the scene. As the sun neared the peak of its descent, its warm rays enveloped the boy, casting a golden glow that illuminated the blossoms and breathed life into the entire field.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Regulus Black ➛

( ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʟɪɴᴇ - ᴄᴏɴᴀɴ ɢʀᴀʏ )

2:28 ━❍──────── -3:37

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— In the dimly lit room, the soft caress of a breeze rustled the dark green curtains, hinting at a world beyond the shadows. A crumpled black blanket adorned the bed, while pillows lay scattered, bearing witness to an unknown turmoil that had unfolded within these walls.

Amidst the enigmatic ambiance, a haunting melody played softly, its origin concealed like a whisper in the wind. The figure of a young boy, his hair as dark and curly as the night, sat perched at the edge of the bed. His slim, pale fingers tangled together, a mystery in their own right, as they gripped his head, shielding it from prying eyes. His shoulders hunched, and subtle tremors ran through his body, like the echoes of secrets yearning to break free.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Severus Snape ➛

( ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ - ʟᴏʀᴅ ʜᴜʀᴏɴ )

2:28 ━❍──────── -3:37

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— Within the hushed confines of the classroom, a symphony of subtle sounds played in harmony. The occasional scratch of quills, the gentle creaking of chairs, the soft bubbling of cauldrons, and hushed whispers created an atmosphere of focused concentration.

In one corner, a boy stood, a mysterious figure obscured by long, greasy black hair that veiled his face like a curtain. His dark, intense eyes remained fixed on the bubbling potion before him, a cauldron filled with secrets waiting to be unlocked. Methodically, he stirred the concoction, his movements deliberate and purposeful as he added ingredients with quiet precision.

Amidst the ambiance of academia, a soft song played discreetly in the background, the student having sought permission from the professor. The melody floated through the air, its gentle rhythm blending seamlessly with the subdued sounds of the classroom. Soft lyrics whispered in the boy's ears.

——

PROBABLY WILL Add as I go on, just things that remind me of these characters, there story’s and things.

Ps. The links are to the Pinterest board, not the song.

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slasher-male-wife · 2 years

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Hi there!! Can i request Hannibal x gn reader that has a pet barn owl but Hannibal only finds this out when reader is away and they send the owl to Hannibal’s house and it’s sitting outside his window with a letter? :) - 🦌

(This can be a fic or head-canons)

No but this is really cute. My favorite bird is actually barn owls because I think they cool really cool, and I like birds in general. I'm also so glad to have a new anon joining us, welcome deer anon I hope you enjoy your stay.

Surprise visitor: Hannibal Lecter x reader with a pet barn owl

You've been with Hannibal officially for about two months now. You two have had some romantic tension before this but now you two are actually dating. You've been to his house and he's been to yours, however he doesn't quite know that you have a special pet. You're not sure how he'd feel about you owning an owl. Maybe it's the animal skulls in his house, or maybe it's the fact he's cooked with some more unusual meats in the past.

You'd made sure to let him know that you had to go to Canada for a week for work. You hired someone to take care of your bird but you left them with a special request.

You always loved the idea of love letters. You'd never had someone to send them too before. Your past partners weren't too romantic with you after all. But you'd said screw it and wrote Hannibal a simple little letter. It's nothing super special but you wrote it out in fancy words and sealed it with wax too.

On the second day of your trip your friend watching your owl took it over to Hannibal's house with the letter. The bird flew to his office window and waited.

Hannibal was at his desk when he heard the cooing of the bird. He slightly smiled and walked over to the window. He saw the letter with his name on it and he opened his window. He took the letter and the owl stayed on the window sill. Hannibal teased the idea of letting the bird in but he ended up just shutting the window and the owl flew off.

He knew it was your hand writing when he saw the envelope. He sat in his chair and carefully opened the letter.

Dear Hannibal,

I know this might be a little strange but I thought this would be kind of romantic. That owl is mine. He's my pet and I wanted to introduce you to him at some point, why not with a love letter.

He slightly smiles and read on the rest that you have written for him. He sits with the paper in his hands for a few minutes after he finishes reading. He had to admit that this was very cute. He loves the idea of love letters too. He pulls out some paper from his desk and grabs a pen. He begins to write a love letter of his own for you.

He knows you're coming back in a few days so after sealing the letter in an envelope, he takes it to your house and puts it in your mail box. He made sure to mention how interested he is in the fact that you have a pet owl.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal nbc

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rosemaze-reveries · 1 year

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little afternoons 🗡

pairing. sculptor (animal witch) x you genre. fluff 😔🫰 notes: galatea & ann are sisters, reader has long hair

A soft smile tugs at your lips, followed by a gentle knock against the doorframe. You have no doubt she already knows you’re here—this is her forest after all, and nothing here is a secret from her. But you still announce your presence, as she still expects a greeting.

Salt-and-pepper hair pinned up in her usual bun, she peeks out from her work alcove with curious eyes. Through the glass, she sees you flash a bundle of envelopes.

“Oh...!”

As soon as she opens the door for you, it’s a matter of seconds before you’re surrounded by her friends — the canaries swarm to strip you of your traveling coat and the deer nudge your legs, goading you further inside. The Witch herself greets you with a smile.

“My goodness, it’s been ages!”

She ruffles your sleeve as a quick hello, but of course it’s the letters she’s really after. She snatches them from you and gently leafs through them, checking over the names of each sender. They’re always the same every time. But she still reads through them with her eyes wide and curious, as if one might surprise her someday.

“How has she been lately?” she asks once she finishes, clutching the bundle against her heart. A knowing bluebird flits over to drop a letter opener on her wheelchair’s side table.

“Ann?”

Galatea rolls her eyes. “Who else?”

“Fine, I think. I’m sure she’ll tell you more in her letters. She misses you terribly.” You hang up your hat on one of four hooks mounted on the wall. Each is haloed by a wooden animal that resembles the rest of the carvings stationed around the room. Yours takes the shape of a fox while Galatea’s favorite hat hangs beneath a rabbit. The owl is for lost travelers who occasionally seek shelter in her cottage. And the cat is reserved for Ann, who has never ventured to visit. Even so, neither sister dares to give up the idea of ‘someday.’

Your eyes fix on the cat’s empty hook. At the very least, you know Ann is still alive. It’s easy to keep tabs on someone as widely known and loved as her. But witches have been vanishing left and right, and every time you visit Galatea you wonder which will be the last time you deliver her letters. Galatea, perceptive as always, catches those lingering seconds.

“What else did you bring? Let me see.” Her voice prompts you to tear your gaze from the wall.

“Cakes from town,” you procure a stack of pink-and-white dappled boxes from your bag. “I thought you might like a taste of the city. They’re from a new bakery that’s been all the rage lately.”

Galatea spares a single glance at the boxes before her eyes flick back to your face. “I don’t care for the city,” she says simply. “But I know you love it, and I’m interested in the taste of your love. Which is your favorite?”

“Mine? Try the middle one. It’s like magic in a box.” You don’t elaborate on the flavor, instead handing it to her before rounding the parlor table. And then, before you forget, you add: “Nothing compares to your baking, though.”

“Of course not. Especially not cakes from the city,” she huffs, but her features soften again moments later. “Thank you.”

Neatly setting down the rest of your things, you pluck out the pins from your hair and pass them to the bluebirds, who have long since grown accustomed to your stays. Galatea’s eyes trail after you. She watches your hair fall loose, tumbling over your shoulders. Quickly she grows disinterested in the cakes you’ve brought her.

“You should stay longer this time,” she tells you. She reaches out a hand, and you know to take it. Then she reels you closer. “Coming and going so often might attract unwanted eyes. I don’t want anyone finding this place.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

“I know. I won’t let you.” Her fingers take up your hair, coiling strands around her knuckles. She can be a little possessive at times. But there is no hint of menace in her words, only a wish. “Sometimes, the stories the people spread about evil witches don’t feel so far-fetched. I certainly wish I could lock you away and have you all to myself.”

Her nails trace over your collar, and your shoulders, and eventually settle above your heart. A rush of heat overtakes your chest.

“I wouldn’t mind. The stories never prepared me for how beautiful the witches would be.”

Tutting her tongue, she blinks away an eyeroll, then lightly shoves you backward. “Oh, please. You’re unbearable. Besides — I need you around. Who else would deliver my letters?”

The glow in her eyes makes it clear she’s enjoying your company. But even if you were only her postman, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

#identity v #idv imagines #galatea claude #idv sculptor #galatea x reader #idv x reader

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nettedtangible · 1 year

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Photos. Wolfstar Microfic. 1770 words.

Remus was sitting at the tiny, overflowing table in in his kitchen having his third coffee the morning after an extremely taxing full moon when it happened. A large barn owl flew straight into his window. He froze, head snapping up to look at it as he slowly drew out his wand, never in much use these days though never far away. Who would be writing to him? He hadn’t had correspondence with anyone from the wizarding world in years, and Mary always just telephoned. He opened the window slowly, looking down at the poor thing, hopping indignantly and ruffling its feathers. On the envelope attached to its leg he spied the green Hogwarts crest. He sighed heavily, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. If Dumbledore was writing him, it couldn’t mean good news. Resignedly, he ushered the owl in and tapped the kettle with his wand, setting it to boil. If Dumbledore was writing him, tea was most definitely in order. He pulled the letter from the owl and sat back down at his little table, noticing vaguely that the bird made no motion to depart. Waiting for a response then, he thought grimly, certainly not good news. He pulled open the envelope and shook out the single sheet of paper, surprised to see not a long looping script but a cramped messy scrawl.

Dear Remus,

I hope you don’t mind me writing to you. Harry’s just started at Hogwarts this year and he’s every bit the son of Lily and James. The way he looks at magic is Lily all over and he’s already had 150 points taken from Gryffindor, detention, and been in the forbidden forest- that’s all James. So I know you’d be right proud (he’s in Gryffindor by the way). Anyway he don't have a single picture of his parents. His aunt and uncle are great ruddy Muggles I’m tellin ya, and I would like to give him something to remember them by. If you have any pictures of them would you be able to send them back with Archimedes? I wouldn’t ask- but it’s for Harry.

Hagrid.

Remus stared at the page, reading it over and over again. It couldn’t be, Harry couldn’t be at Hogwarts yet that would mean it had been… ten years. Ten years since Lily and James- He closed his eyes, running a hand over his face. He finished his tea and turned it in for firewhisky.

For the rest of the day Remus drank steadily as he conversed with Archimedes, the owl, who seemed haughtily impatient to return to the school. He’d always found comfort in talking with animals, particularly magical ones. They understood you. Sometimes they were even your best friends. He closed his eyes against the building tears, pushing the memory of running a hand through thick black fur as he confessed things that would be impossible to say to grey eyes to the back of his mind, unwilling to go further down that road.

Eventually, when the light began to dip and Archimedes began nipping his whisky-numbed fingers, Remus turned to his wardrobe, digging through the overflowing stacks of books and effects that had been shoved in here long ago and forgotten, the door never opened and Remus’ own clothes simply remaining in a dresser, or cast over the chair in the corner of his room. When he saw a leather jacket, he broke down fully, clutching it to his face as he cried all-consuming, rattling sobs.

Eventually he’d been able to get a hold of himself, schooling his sobs into something more manageable in order to find the box at the very back of the closet with L+J scrawled in shaky writing over the top. Gingerly, he lifted the lid, something visceral swooping up from his stomach as he caught the slightest hint of Lily’s perfume. It shocked him but seemed to fill him with an odd sort of calm, and he was reminded of the disastrous Amortentia he’d attempted to brew in fifth year potions that had to be rescued through Lily’s assistance. He allowed himself a small smile.

Slowly, he picked up the box and carried it back into the main room of the flat, bending over his single table and attempting to make some space with one arm as the other wedged the large box against his hip.

He placed the box down and sat shakily after it, reaching in and beginning to pull everything out, a flick of his wand bringing the bottle of firewhisky zooming back into his hand.

As he sifted through the contents of the box, he was surprised by how much he had. He was never much one for sentimentality, and never much one for being photographed either. But Sirius was, and Sirius’ things were his things, he supposed. He found countless pictures of Lily and James, the day they moved in together, the two of them arm in arm with Mary and Marlene at a seventh-year party, their wedding, Harry’s first birthday. And in many of the pictures, there was Sirius, smiling wider than all of them, the enchanted magical picture version of him running around with the same jubilant chaotic energy he’d always possessed in real life. Remus cried some more.

There were letters too. Correspondence from Lily or James, notes from the depths of the war with shaky writing asking after peoples’ safety, their whereabouts. Swapped rumours of attacks or death eater activity. It clenched a fist of ice around Remus’ heart to relive those memories. He tucked them away.

Eventually he came across a photo that made him draw in a sharp breath, it was one of the few with him in it, having been taken when he was unawares. It featured him sitting peaceful in one of the bay window seats of the Gryffindor common room, reading a book. Then Sirius would run into frame, taking a dive and jumping bodily over Remus’ lap, followed by a clearly laughing James and Peter, the boys tussling for a moment before they all settled in some sort of companionable heap, James wedged up against the glass of the window, Pete sprawled across Remus’ legs, and Sirius sitting happily in his lap, reaching up to twirl one of Remus’ curls around a finger, ‘it’s gotten so long,’ he’d said, the memory coming back to him with perfect clarity, ‘it suits you’, and then the three boys turned with massive smiles plastered on their faces to wave at the camera, held laughingly by one Lily Evans. Photo Remus threw a hand of embarrassment over his face, and the scene reset.

He looked down at the photograph for a long time, watching the same loop play out over and over again, knowing that if he had the choice, he would live those thirty seconds out in eternity, never once feeling cheated of a true life’s experience.

He gathered up all the photos he’d found of James and Lily, tucking the one of the four Marauders away in his pocket before bundling the rest up in some brown paper, tying off the parcel with some string. Archimedes hopped forward with a huff, looking eager to be going. Remus paused for a moment, wishing to write something to go along with it. Harry was at Hogwarts now. Harry who was every bit James and Lily’s son. Harry who was already getting into all sorts of trouble. Harry who he’d played with as a baby and whose first word had been Pad- though James had argued until he was blue in the face that it had been dad.

He'd tried to see him before- of course. A few months after the end of the war he’d gone to Dumbledore, pleading to be told of Harry’s whereabouts, pleading to see the little black-haired boy with piercing green eyes who clenched Remus’ finger in his whole fist and rode around on a toy broomstick better than he could walk. Dumbledore had outright refused, asserting Harry’s safety as the number one priority, and when Remus had protested, the man had invoked the fate of Frank and Alice, asking Remus if he wished the same upon Harry. Remus had gasped, the last flickering nodule of hope sputtering out in his chest as if blown out by a gust of cold wind. Nodding, he’d seen himself out, pleading for Dumbledore to let him know if ever a time came when it would be safer. Dumbledore had merely nodded, already turning back to the piece of parchment he had been pouring over on his desk when Remus had entered.

And that had been that. That had been ten years ago and now Remus was staring down at a blank sheet of paper, pen clutched in a shaky hand, the word Harry scrawled at the top of the page.

Harry,

I know you don’t know me but I’m Remus Lupin, I was good friends with your mother and father, best friends in fact, I knew you when you were a baby. I’m so sorry Harry I’m so sorry I couldn’t save them. I never suspect-

He closed his eyes in frustration, shaking his head at himself as he balled up the paper and threw it away, pulling forward a new sheet.

Harry,

My name is Remus Lupin, I was friends with your parents in school. I’m sorry I haven’t written to you sooner, I’m poor and a dangerous werewolf you see

Shake, scrunch, throw.

Harry,

Oh you sound just like James, he was the biggest trouble-maker I’ve ever known, well- second biggest trouble maker-

Cry, scrunch, hurl at the wall.

Harry,

I know Lily would be so proud of you, she loved you so much more than you could even imagine, and that’s saying something, I never knew a more loving person than Lily Evans, she even loved me. James too, they loved me. God knows why

Scream, tear to pieces, little paper confetti in his whisky.

Harry,

He lifted the pen, staring at the page for a while longer. There were dozens of balled up letters strewn about him, all covered in ink blotches and tear stains. He shook his head, thick and spiking with pain from the aftereffects of the whisky. He gazed for a moment longer at the paper before standing up with a scrape of the chair, startling Archimedes from his slumber on the windowsill.

“Here you go,” he murmured to the owl as he attached the little brown paper parcel, bending down to hurriedly jot two endlessly insufficient words on the face of the wrapping.

For Harry.

#sorry #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #harry potter marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #mwpp #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders #post first wizarding war

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