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#potion au
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Person A is a bounty hunter who gets tasked with going after Person B, a god who’s only kind to children, so Person A takes a potion to appear as a child and get close to Person B and trap them, but keeps getting thwarted by the oblivious but super overprotective and loving towards children Person B.
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auideas · 2 years
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So, I found you a while ago and thought you guys would never resurface
But I was proven wrong
So I got this story I'm trying to write, yeah? Fantasy magical dystopian, got any ideas you could shoot my way?
Hey, we live to defy expectations! We'd be more than happy to help.
Fantasy magical dystopian prompts is incredibly specific, but AMAZING. Let's get it started:
No one knows why some people lived while others died when the apocalypse came; they suddenly vanished, almost before their very eyes. With 95% of the population gone, the remaining survivors simply attempted to keep living and moving forward. Small communities were built in the ruin of their old world, later to be called “villages.” After some months of establishing the new world order, strange happenings began to take place: weird weather, objects moving on their own, and other such oddities. It’s only on that day when Character A looked up from their dry garden to the heavens, raised an arm, and pulled down with the intent of a god did rain fall from a cloudless sky. Seemingly impossible, the remaining survivors of the human race may have not been human at all, but something more.
The world was perfect. The complicated and seemingly impossible concept of utopia had been achieved. Waste had been reduced to near nothing, energy was renewable, the economy was saved from collapse -- the human race was thriving for the first time in centuries. As it always seems with perfect things, it was too good to be true. This new world isn’t without a massive, dark flaw: to create this utopia, influential humans have enslaved those with the gift of magic, using them to achieve their nefarious means. The concept of “utopia” had been completely bastardized for their own gain. Humans...they never change.
When you live in a dystopia, you learn to use what you can find. Scavenging wasn’t just a side gig now, but a way of life, and this wasn’t more true than for magical botanists and potion-makers. Because they lacked access to their previous supply chains (damn them for shutting down the internet and its associated conveniences), they had to find other creative ways to source materials. Defunct fabric stores, joke shops, herbalists in Chinatown -- you name it, they’d scavenged it. All seemed well and good until some of their spells had, well, unexpected effects due to poor quality substitutions.
History repeats itself, and the world heals in cycles...at least, that’s what they all said when the climate took a turn for the worse. Everything was thrown out of whack in a mere 20 years, and few people could discover the truth of what seemed to be happening. The new world felt almost apocalyptic, but it turns out the world wasn’t ending, but merging. Two planes of existence were slowing melding together: one our own and the other...horrendously fantastic. No one believed the ravings of Character A until the first dragon ripped the sky open and rained fire down from the heavens.
Being a part of a coven after the world all but ended was difficult enough, but having that life be all someone knows makes it just that much harder when they have to leave it. As a part of a coming of age ceremony, Characters A, B, and C are sent on a quest across the country to source materials from the old world: The Munich Manual. However, they were refused reasoning as to why the elders needed the ancient script, citing it as “none of their business” and that they “weren’t old enough to know the truth.” Well, Characters A, B, and C are officially adults now, right? Who’s to say they can’t just open the manual find out for themselves?
The “wall of fish” trending on TikTok some time ago seemed like it was too strange to be true; so many people ignored it and simply kept it in their back pocket as a fun fact to bring up at parties. After all, what’s a better ice breaker than “you heard about those floor fish??” No one expected anything to come of it, simply writing it off as another secret the sea kept hidden. It wasn’t until this wall of fish completely disappeared did anyone take notice, because what it left behind was ten times worse. In this world, sea creatures are connected by a hive mind, and this in combination with morphic fields allowed the creatures to simultaneously alter their body chemistry and release a strong, deadly acid that poisoned almost every water source on Earth, eating the land and leaving little behind. Within five years, the only humans remaining on planet earth are the mountain tribes, sustained through the magical manipulation of their own morphic fields.
Supplies are hard to come by when the world has gone to shit, and that couldn’t be any more true of the world without UPS. The sourcing of rare materials was left for only the most brave and capable. These requirements made Character A’s trips along the New Silk Road that much more bewildering, given their small stature. Perhaps it had to do with the materials they were carrying...it seemed like an awful lot of bottles filled with weird colors, bones, and insect wings for such a little thing.
Being a plain non-magical human in a group of tightly-knit survivors trying to live in the slums of a dystopian city isn’t exactly a cake walk, but if they thought Character A was also magical because they could somehow convince neighboring groups to accept impossibly unfair trades for their own gain, who was Character A to correct them on their mistake? After all, it’s not like Character A would willingly admit that they were just in debate club in high school, not a silver tongued sorcerer.
Not everyone is cut out for living in an apocalyptic situation. Jobs that fit your skills are hard to come by, especially for a mute academic (and a linguist at that). In an effort to pull their weight, Character A becomes an archivist and logs information as best they can from members of the community to document how the old world can inform the new. They decide to start with the elderly who speak a myriad of languages (most were ones Character A could also speak, thank god). As Character A records their stories and words, they fail to realize that what they’re recording aren’t just stories, but spells and incantations with the ability to release something much, much darker if spoken by the right person.
Everyone thought the creatures were destroying the world of their own accord. “It’s simply in their nature,” they’d say. “They can’t control themselves.” Well, that was a bit true in part: someone else was calling the shots, and they certainly didn’t have everyone’s best interest at heart. Who’s to say someone else can’t pull their strings, though?
These should give you a great start, but I’ll be honest in saying that I could have kept going forever! Maybe we’ll have more AUs along the same lines as these in the future~
- Admin M  x
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llondonfog · 9 months
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https://youtu.be/5qNk5RHJTJQ
This song made me think of the recent potions au ask, where Silver’s memories peak out despite his choice to forget them…
OHHHHH ANON, I ADORE THIS!!!!
i can totally see the vibe for that moment (i believe you're referring to this post), and of course this song gives me all the burdened royalty aesthetic that i need, especially relating to silver's circumstances. the entire song depicting silver's change into a person who his family can hardly approach, merely a puppet ruler for the lingering old guard of his decimated kingdom, the crumbling of his steadfast belief in his place among his family, the way that his entire world is now woven from lies that keep him trapped and cocooned far away from the knowledge that would only hurt him.... ahhhhh this is definitely going on my writing playlist
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daddiesdrarryy · 5 months
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Ron: What are you doing, Harry?
Harry: I’m trying to make Amortentia but I keep getting it wrong! I don’t know what I’m doing wrong but it keeps smelling like Malfoy
Ron: …what?
Harry: Yeah! Like hair gel, the kind he always uses. And his cologne, the new one, not the old one he used for the first three years in Hogwarts. And green apples, because it’s his favourite fruit. But it doesn’t matter! Because it’s wrong, it’s not supposed to smell like Malfoy, right?
Ron: Boy, do I have news for you, Harry
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ceruleancattail · 24 days
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Summoning your familiar: Heartsabyul edition
Ace Trappola
You’re immediately engulfed in the scent of incense, a cloyingly sweet smell. A finger taps on both your shoulders playfully, coaxing your attention to your sides.
You turn left and right in turn, to see nothing but thin air. Before a laugh echoes out, and a finger pokes at your nose mischievously. Ace Trappola the kitsune himself, a crooked grin dancing on his lips. His ears twitch, the fur on them rippling with his every move. His tails are left loose behind him, swaying around with the beat of his pulse.
“Master, summoning me again so soon? Did ya miss me that much? You silly little sap- Aw, don’t be mad. I missed ya too. Ahem, anyways-
Whatcha need me for?”
Deuce Spade
A sharp boom resounds across the room. A cloud of smoke poofs up in front of you, as a pair of clawed feet hastily tries to find purchase on the ground. Deuce Spade appears before you, skidding to a halt.
Well, not before he crashes into you, fluffy tails cradling both of you as you two fall. Cushion you with a layer of fluff and fur. Deuce’s all in a fluster, pink tinting his cheeks. As fast as he can, he clambers off you,worry apparent in his gaze. Once you reassure him that you’re ok, his shoulders are slumping out of relief, a sheepish smile stretched across his lips.
“Sorry about that. Guess I’m not too used to being summoned by… anyone. I’ve forgotten how nice it is to be called by name…. To be called by you…
Urm! Enough with the sappy stuff! Deuce Spade, reporting for duty. Your command, Master?”
Cater Diamond
The moment his name leaves your lips, you see ghastly balls of white fire slowly ascend from the ground. They swirl around you, the warmth of the flames bleeding into your very soul.
Until you feel a weight press into your back, a pair of arms wrap themselves around your torso. Glancing back, you’re greeted with a pair of Emerald eyes, the ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips. Cater Diamond, your familiar. His chest rests on the curve of your shoulder as he smiles, half lidded eyes never once leaving your face.
“Cater Diamond. Kitsune!
Currently bound in service to this cutie in my arms. Man, I wish I could hug ya forever, but since you’ve summoned me… we have things to do, yeah?
Direct me then, Master~”
Trey Clover
The smell of crushed clovers engulf your nostrils. A sweet, gentle earthy fragrance that caressed you softly. Tenderly, like the soft touch of a lover. A tail slowly snakes around your thigh, fur as soft as velvet on your skin.
A breath is blown into your ear, followed by a husky laugh, as rich as fine wine. You turn to face Trey, his head tilted ever slightly to the side. Eyes sparkling with amusement behind those glasses of his. Carefully, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft smile flickering across his lips.
“Trey Clover, kitsune.
At your service, always, my dear Master. Hm, have you eaten already? I’ve baked a few choice pastries back at home… it’s a pity I wasn’t able to pack them for you before you summoned me.
Well then, I’ll do my best to finish this up quickly for your sake then.”
Riddle Rosehearts
Wisps of flame burst into life right before your eyes, twisting and turning into flaming mirages of roses, crackling with pure heat. Nine tails of crimson fur settle onto the ground, trailing after him like a grand cloak of scarlet red.
A pair of rose red fox ears stand straight at attention, as Riddle Rosehearts casts an impressive silhouette before you. Before he turns around, and you can see the soft, gentle affection in his gaze. Taking a step forward, he drops to a knee, hand stretched forth, seeking the warmth of your very own. A old gentlemanly sort of gesture that looked odd on an all-powerful kitsune, but Riddle still insists on it, every time he’s summoned.
“Riddle Rosehearts, kitsune of the Heartsabyul clan. I have come in answer of your call, my Master.
Hm? I’m always so quick to appear? Well, it’s you calling, after all. It’s a duty, as a mystical creature contracted to a human.
After all, mortal lifespans tend to be a little insufficient… so to be punctual to your every whim is simply just my duty. Besides, it’s not like I mind terribly, hearing my name fall from your lips...”
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ellecdc · 2 months
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A Man With a Plan.6
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: swearing, mostly fluff, funny moments with friends, no plot just vibes [crystal dialogue prompt courtesy of keke the unstablereader 🫶]
Though Remus was undoubtedly relieved that you a) knew of his affliction, and b) forgave him for his arseholery, he was admittedly a little more than slightly disappointed that very little had changed between the two of you.
Which made no sense on account of the fact that he never planned on anything changing between the two of you to begin with; he was discontent, nevertheless. 
“Oh, good, Y/N’s here. Listen, how the hell do I stop the nargles from stealing my things?” James shouted as you approached the table. You looked like you had perhaps only been prepared to say hello and carry on, to which James was having none of it and nearly bodily forced you onto the bench next to him. 
“Hello, Jamie. Do you have your cranberry seed oil infused corks?” You asked as you obediently took your seat.
James scoffed and pulled out a lanyard from under his uniform which, lo and behold, had a cork attached to it smelling very much like cranberry seed oil. “I literally never go anywhere without it.” He said as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question.
You hummed and Remus watched a divot appear between your eyebrows as you scrutinized what Remus assumed was James’ aura or some other such entity. “Well, I don’t see any around you, James. What makes you think you have a nargle problem?”
James groaned dejectedly and turned back towards his lunch. “All of my things are missing! It started around the time you went missing.” James stressed, still not having completely forgiven you for your disappearance at the last full moon. “It was my school tie, and some socks, a quill set my mom got me at the start of school, and now I can’t find my herbology textbook!”
You hummed again and seemed to look around the table as if you’d somehow find his belongings there. “Perhaps you should ask your friend Peter.”
Remus heard Peter choke on his pumpkin juice as James, Sirius, and Remus all turned to look at him. 
“Uh...haha, so, funny thing...” He started, cut off by an indignant squawk from James.
“You were stealing my stuff!? Why!?” He cried.
Peter’s cheeks pinked though a pleased smile graced his lips. “You were so worried about Y/N being missing and the nargles taking your things. I thought a funny prank would lighten the mood; I wouldn’t get a chance like that again!” He defended himself. 
“You are so dead.” James muttered as Peter (wisely) took off out of the Great Hall with James hot on his heels.
“Alright Y/N.” Sirius started, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “You’ve gotta tell me; how’d you know it was Petey boy?”
A shy sort of pride painted your features and Remus thought it was the most beautiful you ever looked. “Wrackspurts.”
Sirius’ smile fell slightly, but the amusement never left his eyes. “Wrackspurts?” 
You nodded in agreement. “Mhm. His head was full of them.” You said simply as you took a piece of cut strawberry from James’ abandoned plate and popped it in your mouth.
Sirius nodded with a look on his face that seemed to say ‘fair enough’. “And how’d you know about this one?” He asked, motioning towards Remus with his head.
“About his affliction, or about his soulmate bond?” You asked as if you were simply talking about the weather.
Sirius cocked his head as he considered you. “Both.”
“His aura...or I suppose Moony’s aura.”
Remus felt his eyebrows recede into his hair line. “Moony has an aura?” He asked you.
You nodded in the affirmative. “I’m assuming you’re right-handed?”
Remus nodded numbly.
“Most of the lunar cycle, Moony’s aura sits around your left shoulder. As the cycle moves closer to the full, he resides on your right. Also, sometimes when I’m near, he tries to come closer. Would you say that’s true?” Your serene tone did nothing to calm the racing of his heart.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Sirius said, interrupting Remus’ internal struggle. “There really was nothing you could do to hide from this witch, huh Moons?”
Remus chuckled self-deprecatingly and looked down into his lap in a little bit of shame. Your smile never faltered, however. 
Peter and James returned then; James with a self-satisfied grin on his face, and Peter with his hair, shirt collar, and tie in disarray. 
“What’s so funny?” James asked as he sat beside you, smacking a platonic kiss to your cheek as he winked over at Lily from her spot further down the table, whose face turned a shade of red rivaling her hair at having been caught watching James.
“Remus and his last two braincells trying to keep Y/N away from him.” Sirius snickered. Remus kicked at him under the table which caused you to jump. He apparently had missed his mark and had kicked your shin by accident. 
“Fuckin’ hells, dove. I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my gods...” 
Sirius barked another laugh as Peter whispered a quiet ‘dove?’
“Oi! You really have lost your gobstones! Can’t believe Moony’s the dumbest one out of all of us now.” James said as he checked your shin for injury under the table. 
“Remus isn’t dumb.” You defended the dumb bastard. 
“Well, you can’t say he’s very smart here, dollface.” Sirius conceded.
You hummed and shooed James away from your leg. “Wisdom was chasing him; Remus was just always faster.” 
This time, poor Pete lost his pumpkin juice completely as he sputtered mid-sip. You didn’t even seem to realize you’d said something particularly funny (or devastating) as James nearly fell off the bench in a fit of laughter and Sirius pulled you into his side.
“Oh, for the love of Merlin. Remus, please, can we keep her!?” He said in between bouts of laughter, wiping away a mirthful tear from under his eye.
Remus had no objections. 
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What Remus hadn’t agreed to was this.
Remus understood that allowing Moony (and...himself) to keep you around meant that he would ultimately have to share you. He knew that he’d have to share you with James, he’d have to (rather unfortunately) share you with Regulus, he’d have to share you with Pete and Sirius who seemed just as enamored with you, and he’d likely eventually have to share you with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and the rest of his friend group.
He was however not in the slightest prepared to have to share you with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior. 
Remus had, quite happily, found you studying in the library alone and asked politely if he could join you at your table. The two of you had been studying in companionable silence when Regulus showed up. No matter, Regulus was quiet and diligent in his schoolwork. 
Then, Sirius had shown up perturbed that his baby brother and his best mate were hanging out (to which both Regulus and Remus vehemently denied, seeing as they were both here studying with you, not each other), and insisted he be involved. Though Sirius struggled with the whole sitting-still-and-quietly thing, he more or less managed to join the three of you without much fuss.
But then James showed up, which sparked a long and arduous debate between he and Regulus regarding which entity was worse – wrackspurts or nargles – to which you weren’t even a part of save for each of them calling to you in need of an explanation every so often. You would look up from your book and answer them politely before returning to your schoolwork as if you weren’t surrounded by complete idiots. 
Remus was lovestruck. 
And then Barty showed up.
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Crouch screeched as he ran through the library completely ignoring the shushing from other students and string of curse words following him from the crotchety librarian. 
“Hello, Bartemus.” You greeted the banshee serenely.
“Quickly, darling.” He started before promptly dumping a large sack of tumbled rocks and gems in front of you. 
“Where’d you get all of these?” Regulus asked incredulously, reaching to pluck a small stone that had rolled over to his open book.
“Never you mind that!” Barty shouted as he swatted his hand away. “Y/N - light of my life, apple of my eye - which of these crystals will help me piss of my dad the most?!”
Once again appearing completely unperturbed by the general chaos around you, you perused the crystals set before you. 
“Well, Carnelian can invoke passion.” You said as you plucked a red stone from the pile. “Garnet can invoke intense emotions: jealousy, anger, fear. I recommend pairing it with gold – maybe place it in a gold setting for a necklace or something similar. Dravite will bring up unresolved emotions...” And soon, two red stones and a brown stone sat in your palm as you held them before Barty. 
“Pfft, figures.” Barty grumbled. “Red and gold never fail to piss me off either.” He sneered, looking pointedly at the three Gryffindor’s seated at your table. Remus was not necessarily proud of the low growl that the comment elicited from him, but he was proud of the restraint he showed when Moony was screaming in his head to tear the fuckers head clean off his scrawny body. 
“Bartemus.” You chided gently, looking up at Barty standing above you like a parent might look at a particularly troublesome child: full of love.
Remus hated it. 
“Sorry my sweets.” Barty cooed at you and ran a finger along your cheekbone. 
Remus hated that more. 
“Mr. Crouch!” The librarian called, finally having caught up to her problem student.
“Well, I must be off.” Barty called casually as if it was completely of his own volition that he now vacate the premises. “Keep the rest, beautiful angel face. Much love!” 
And he was gone. 
Thank Merlin. 
“The friends you keep.” James muttered as he shook his head in disappointment as if he wasn’t one of said friends you keep.
“Oh, Bartemus is not so bad. Perhaps just a little misunderstood, and a little more than maniacal.” You put simply. 
James was shushed loudly by the librarian for his laughter.
“I’ll go check on him.” Regulus said as he stood. He barely spared the Gryffindors a glance as he nodded politely at you. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”
“Goodbye Regulus.” You sang to him, smiling brightly like he had just been anything more than sort of polite to you.
Remus once again figured that was as much affection as Regulus could ever show. 
“You boys are welcome to help yourselves to the crystals. It’s a wonderful idea to take the ones that speak most to you.”
James exclaimed gleefully as he started to browse the many stones in front of you. Sirius’ face piqued in interest as he quickly plucked the most sparkly stone on the table.
“Jamie, you should bring this one to Lily.” You said as you handed him a small, slightly translucent pink stone. James didn’t bother asking questions such as ‘why?’ or ‘what is it?’ or even ‘should I be worried?’ before he accepted it, punctuating his ‘thanks angel’ with a kiss to your hair before he was racing out of the library.
“What stone was that?” Remus asked, unable to quell his curiosity.
“Rose quartz.” You responded simply.
“What’s it do?” Sirius asked.
Your mouth quirked in thought. “Stones don’t really do anything. They just encourage what’s already possible.”
Sirius rolled his eyes earning him a defensive kick in the shin from Remus. 
“What does rose quartz encourage, dove?” Remus placated.
“Love and affection.”
Remus nodded and watched as Sirius pocketed two more shiny and sparkly stones before his expression was painted with mischief. “Say, Y/N. What crystals should our dear Moony here have?”
Remus couldn’t even bother shooting his mate an unimpressed glare when your face picked up excitedly and you began sifting through the stones. He watched just as animatedly. 
After a few moments, you proudly displayed a small palmful of stones. 
Remus placed his hand palm up beside your much smaller one and relished in the intimacy of you gently transferring the stones into his palm; your hands gently brushing in the action.
“What are those stones?” Sirius asked curiously.
Remus swore some bashfulness painted your features as you pointed the stones out in Remus’ palm. He was thankful for the continued contact as you explained them all. 
“This is amethyst, which supports calmness; rids the mind of negative thoughts, and promotes dreamless and restful sleep.” You explained, causing Remus to nod his head. That could be helpful.“This is obsidian which helps one process their emotions.” That one earned a snort of laughter from Sirius. “Jasper is supposed to provide support during stressful times. This is moonstone which...well...I suppose that’s self-explanatory.” 
Remus hummed but couldn’t help but notice you failed to discuss the last stone sitting in his palm. He wasn’t going to push it, however.
“And the pink one?” Sirius asked sharing no such qualms, lips quirked in a smirk and eyes full of mirth. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, clearly feeling slightly self-conscious, but explained it nonetheless. “Rose quartz to encourage love and trust.” 
Remus would usually consider himself a generally skeptical person: but you may have just converted him.
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taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr, @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @adhxmoony, @hufflepufffangirlqueen, @thebiggestnaturaldisaster, @urmomw4ntsme, @b4tm4nn, @jamieolivia27, @stqrgirlies-blog, @loving-and-dreaming 
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kiisaes · 4 months
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kacchan, you have to drink this!
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the-travelling-witch · 11 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑
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summary: working in a coffee shop means you always meet a wide variety of personalities; but why, out of all options, did you have to go and take an interest in the mysterious guy with an attitude problem?
pairing: piercer! scara x gn barista! reader
warnings: uhh needles (obviously), cursing like once, reader has questionable nicknaming skills (they're worse than paimon's)
modern au series || genshin impact masterlist
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It was a typical Monday morning in the coffee shop you were working at, most customers seemingly dragging themselves in after rolling out of bed with the occasional energy ball as an exception. The aroma of roasted coffee beans filled your nose as you worked on several orders and people entered or left the store at a steady rate.
Once rush hour was pretty much over, the doorbell chimed again to reveal a guy with a dark and choppy bob cut you were sure not many people could pull off. The black clothes draped over his silhouette were deliberately torn at some places and a black mask covered the rest of his face except for striking indigo eyes and two gleaming dermal piercings peeking out from under the fabric on his right cheek. 
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” you greeted, the expected smile already on your lips.
Without so much as a greeting, he said in a monotone voice, “A large black coffee to go.”
Wow, quite the attitude but then again, it was Monday morning and you had seen worse. So, not thinking too much about it, you continued as normal. “May I ask for your name?”
“Huh?”
“To write on your cup, so we can call you when your order is ready to be picked up,” you patiently explained.
In a tone that suggested the guy was bored out of his mind, he merely drawled a “Just write whatever” and went back to scrolling on his phone.
It was a good thing you weren’t holding a cup yet or you might have crumbled it. So much for giving him the benefit of the doubt. Your eyes narrowed as your smile and voice took on an almost unnoticeable edge. “Sure thing,” you replied in a sweet tone before telling him his total. 
A few minutes passed after you gave the guy’s order to your coworker who sniggered as you handed them the receipt. While taking more orders, you were keenly aware of that indigo-eyed jerk’s presence lingering by one of the windows, back leaning against the wall and ringed fingers reflecting the morning sun. 
Setting a cup down on the counter, your coworker called out “A large black coffee to go for ‘Whatever’!” 
At the unusual call, a few other customers turned to see what was happening and the guy himself seemed taken aback for a short second before collecting himself. As he walked up to the counter, he threw you an unimpressed glare which you returned with an innocent shrug. 
Despite his grumpy attitude, the guy kept coming back for the next couple of weeks to the point where you could pinpoint the exact time he’d walk through that door, always ordering a large black coffee. He’d yet to give you his name, so when you went to prepare his coffee ahead of time, you continued to write ‘Whatever’ on it. 
It might have been your imagination, but you thought Bob-Cut seemed to mellow out more too as he kept coming back and you built somewhat of a routine. He’d actually use words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ which you didn’t think possible the first time you met him. And, much to your chagrin, you had to admit the nonchalant attitude paired with his style and accessories suited him really well and you sometimes had trouble tearing your gaze away from deep pools of lapis. Not that you’d ever make it known to his face though.
Slowly but surely, you started looking forward to seeing him everyday too. Remembering you’d get to see the mysterious - yet cute- guy walk in again made you positively giddy with excitement as you got ready in the morning. 
Yet this particular day your enthusiasm was stumped as the prepared cup of black coffee sat lonely behind the counter, waiting to be picked up. But he never came, no matter how often you expectantly looked up as the bell jingled. Your coworker patted you on the back encouragingly and you dragged yourself through your shift, a sunken feeling settling in your chest.
The next day, no coffee sat premade on the counter while you worked on orders. With your back turned to the door you almost didn’t notice it swing open. A gruff ‘Morning’ made your eyes light up before you composed yourself and turned to face the strongest resting bitch face ever.
“Good morning, what would you like to order?” You smiled, deciding to play coy although you already knew the answer.
And that was actually the look he gave you; eyes narrowed unimpressed and brow twitching upwards. “Seriously, I don’t come in for a day and you've already forgotten me. That’s a bit harsh, no?”
“Well you never know,” you shrugged playfully. “Maybe you had a change of heart as your coffee was all alone yesterday.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he mumbled, averting his eyes. He had nothing to apologise for in your opinion but it was cute anyway. “A client cancelled their appointment on short notice and my coworkers had all the other clients handled, so I didn’t come to the studio in the morning.”
The guy must’ve caught on to the curiosity visible on your face because he followed it up with “I’m a piercer and tattoo artist.”
“Oh wow, really?” you said, remembering your own plans to get a new piercing somewhen soon. Since your last piercer had closed their shop, you had kind of pushed that thought to the back of your mind though. Suddenly you were very much aware again of the ink peeking over the neck of his shirt and the piercings gleaming in the shop light “Where do you work?”
“In the studio down the road. If you don’t believe me, you should drop by,” he challenged defensively, although you didn’t doubt him at all. Realising what he just said, his eyes widened in the first big show of emotion you’d seen from him and you thought you could see a faint rosy tint where his mask ended. “No, I mean– Forget I said anything!”
For the rest of the interaction, the guy kept his head down, bangs obscuring his eyes which never quite met yours. It was cute seeing someone who acted so aloof usually be all shy and bashful and you tugged the info about his workplace away for later. To be precise, for the coming weekend. 
On your day off, you found yourself in front of the glass door of a tattoo shop. The pleasant scent of flowers from the shop next to it filled the air as you took a deep breath before you pulled the handle towards you. You chastised yourself for being giddy and letting your hopes get the better of you; for all you know, he might not even work today. Or what if he really didn’t want you here?
Your nerves were forgotten when you entered the studio. Along the walls of the modern entrance area hung a variety of different sketches, distinct both in style and motif. From fine-line flowers to precise geometrics to calligraphy and Japanese style tattoos, you wondered just how many coworkers Bob-Cut had and which sketches were his as you studied the signatures.
“Hi there, how can I help you?” You spun around to face an auburn haired man who had appeared behind the counter, his olive eyes twinkling at your reaction. 
“Oh uhm, I wanted to get a new piercing. That’s fine without a scheduled appointment, right?” 
“Sure, thing. Just fill out these documents here and tell me what piercing you want and I’ll hook you up with someone who’s not working right now,” he smiled brightly, yet you had the strange sense that mischief was bubbling just underneath the surface.
“Actually,” you couldn’t believe you were about to say this out loud, “is there a piercer working here with an indigo bob cut and two piercings on his cheek?”
“Oh?” And there it was, that teasing lilt in his voice which raised the hairs in the back of your neck. “Yo, ‘mouchie, there’s a cutie here to see you!”
A mere few seconds after his shout reverberated down the short hallway behind the desk, steps could be heard as a familiar raspy voice answered. “If you call me that again, I’ll fucking ki– What are YOU doing here?!”
“Oh, so you really do know each other,” Olive-Eyes snickered.
Deciding to ignore him, you tilted your head at the accusatory finger still pointed in your direction. “You invited me, remember?”
“I told you to forget it!”
“Well, too bad you’re not my boss and I can do what I want,” you snipped. “Besides, I wanted a new piercing anyway, so I decided to come here. Where’s the problem with that?”
The sound of your bickering lured in two more onlookers, a guy with dark blue hair tied into two braids to frame his face and one guy with his teal hair tied into a messy ponytail, who was staring down at his phone as if it was way more interesting than his colleagues. 
“What am I hearing? Scara inviting someone over?” The braid-guy sing songed. He mimicked wiping a tear from his eye dramatically. “That I can still witness the day… They grow up so fast.”
“Go to hell, all of you,” ‘Scara’ seethed.
“Alright, see you there.” Teal-Bangs didn’t even look up from his phone, the quip rolling off his tongue as naturally as breathing.
“Wow, even Xiao is bullying you now,” Olive-Eyes chimed in.
Dual-Braids laughed, slinging an arm around Bob-Cut’s shoulders and you feared he might bite it off given the glare he was sending his coworker. “You should really stop hitting him with the newspaper, you know?”
“Uh, guys…?” you interjected before they could start squabbling again. “About that piercing…?”
“Oh right!” The auburn-haired man took the documents from you and gave you a wide smile. “As I said, a piercer who’s free will take care of that aaaaaand would you look at that! Scara happens to be free, so he’ll have the honour of giving you a cool new accessory!”
“Hey, I-” Your coffee shop acquaintance tried to protest but Heizou was already ushering you in his direction.
“Now, go have fun, you two,” he teased. “But not too much, okay? 
That was how you found yourself standing in a neat piercing room, bright white light illuminating the equipment stashed there. There was a sigh behind you and ‘Scara’ crossed the room. 
“They’re such nuisances,” he mumbled before he fixed his indigo eyes on you. Without his black mask on, you could see that besides the two dermal piercings on his right cheek he also had a nostril on the left side of his nose. As he spoke up again, a silver ball sitting on his tongue reflected the crisp light. “You’re okay with that? I mean, me being your piercer and all. Heizou didn’t give you much of a choice but just know that you can back out if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s fine by me, if you’re okay with it too,” you sincerely replied. “I mean you were pressured into it just as much.”
“I’m used to their antics though.” After a brief moment of gazing at each other, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to take a seat. “So, what kind of piercing do you want?”
You watched him pull on a pair of black latex gloves and only when he looked back at you did the question register in your brain. “A helix, here,” you said, pointing at your ear.
“Sure thing.” Rolling closer on a chair, he marked the spot you indicated and handed you a mirror. “Like that?”
When you gave your approval, he went back to the desk to prepare the necessary equipment and sterilised it. The silence prompted you to ask the question that has been burning on your tongue for a while now. “So your name is Scara?”
“Scaramouche is my artist name, I’m going by that,” he replied. “But Scara is fine.”
You didn’t have much time to wonder about the implications of using an artist name because a moment later, Scara appeared in front of you again. Needle in hand, his eyes came level with yours again. Up close, you could make out all the tiny specks of amethyst caught in the light and his scent invaded your senses.
“You ready?” he asked quietly, his low voice preserving the delicate atmosphere your proximity created. When you nodded, he gave you a small smirk, demeanour entirely changed from how you’d gotten to know him. “Alright, this is going to hurt a little but the pain will be brief. I need you to hold still through it, can you do that for me?”
Not trusting your voice, you nodded again as you swallowed. Latex met the side of your jaw in a ghost of a touch as Scara gently tilted your head the way he needed it. All nerve endings in your skin lit up as liquid fire spread from the tips of his fingers through your veins, the strange intimacy getting to you more than you could have prepared for.
You felt the Scara’s exhale brush your cheek as he positioned the needle and your warbled thoughts caught up with the situation the moment he pushed it through. But only when the jewellery followed did you flinch.
“There we go, the worst part is done,” he soothed. Giving the mirror back to you, he left you to admire his work as he got up. The calm call of your name pulled you from your own reflection as Scara held out a glass of water to you.
“Thanks,” you smiled before pausing. “Wait, did I even tell you my name?”
“Read it on your file,” he replied nonchalantly as you gave him an unimpressed glance.
“I’m sure that falls under poor etiquette,” you playfully chastised him.
“So? The outcome is the same, isn’t it?” he shrugged, yet you couldn’t help but find it endearing. “You good to go? C’mon, I’ll show you the way out.”
As you wrapped up the payment and Scara went over all the mandatory steps in taking care of your new piercing, you were well aware of the doors opening and the people peeping into your conversation. So much for privacy.
“Well then, that’s that.” The metal of his tongue piercing held your attention until Scara brushed some of his hair behind his ear, revealing a few piercings of his own. Among them was a helix which mirrored yours in placement. “Get home safe, yeah?”
“I will, thanks.” Your smile was filled with genuine gratitude. As you pushed through the glass door, you turned back to wave. “See you tomorrow!”
Maybe it was your imagination but as you left you thought there was an actual smile gracing his sharp features.
The next day, your spirits were high as they could be. Not only were you excited to show off your new accessory, you’d also been on cloud nine since leaving the piercing studio, butterflies stirring in your stomach every time you thought back to how he touched you. Perhaps what you were about to do was a little bold but you’d be damned if you didn’t shoot your shot.
As expected, Scara came in at the same time as every morning and you’d just finished brewing his coffee. He too seemed to be in a better mood than usual as he walked up to the counter. While you typed in his order, you made a bit of small talk over how your piercing was healing.
“It’s all good,” you laughed and showed the jewellery to him. “Almost like my piercer knew what he was doing.”
“You better believe that,” he countered. However, you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemingly lit up and crinkled at the edges, as they did when he smirked, when his gaze fell onto the piercing he put on you. His reaction gave you a boost of confidence for what you were about to do.
Handing him his cup, you wished him a great day and watched as he went to leave before stopping dead in his tracks. No doubt he discovered the little ‘If you ever feel like going for a coffee while I’m not working ♡ (and don’t whatever me!)’ you had scribbled onto the cup holder, followed by your phone number. You gave him a wink when he searched your eyes and watched him pull out his phone. A few seconds later your phone pinged.
Unknown number: whatever Unknown number: are you free this week?
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© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit
if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡
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eightyuh · 5 months
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Tiny Harry AU twist: Glen is still 0'6, and Harry is ~0.2cm tall
(I changed Harry to 2cm so that it would be a similar ratio to Glen)
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went a little crazy with this one ... the gears were turning. thanks for the idea!
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rhapsoddity · 16 days
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Smh Sheriff has no support, but he doesn't want to confide in someone and them end up like Fwhip...
(Part 5/6)
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“Yeah, last time I tried to make that potion, mom banned me from using the family cauldron for a month.”
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auideas · 2 years
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Gleaning Mastery AU
It’s rare that Character A gets a break, but that’s exactly where they find themselves after quitting their job. Don’t worry, they had another one lined up, but the project itself wasn’t due to start for another couple months, meaning that Character A had a whole lot of nothing to do.
To fill their time and escape boredom, Character A looks online for free classes in anything and everything, from knitting, to video editing, to baking, to graphic design -- anything they had even a slight amount of interest in, they wanted to absorb as much knowledge as possible. Most of these weren’t live and involved watching pre-recorded lectures, but one of them was hosted on Zoom every Thursday at 3. 
Excited to interact with other passionate learners, Character A boots up their laptop and signs in for the class, but scrunches their eyebrows when they reread the pop-up: “Classes will be held at 3:00AM.” Crap, they’d already missed the first one. Bummed out but adamant about participating in this At-Home Apothecary class, they arrive exactly on time the next week, seeing others’ webcams on, cauldrons boiling, ingredients prepared, and...is that a real wand?
TL;DR -- Character A accidentally discovers and signs up for a free online class about at-home apothecaries, but to their surprise, the class involves real magic and this was a REAL potion making class. Can Character A hide their mortal identity until the class ends?
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Day 3 of Medival Artober "Alchemy"
Moon took to learning alchemy from Y/N since they started living together, mostly just hovering over their shoulder and asking as many questions as possible. First it was just another way of staying close to Y/N but he really starts to like alchemy after some time.
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undercoveravenger · 7 months
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Intoxication
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Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Male!Reader
Requested: Yes
Request: “love potion mix-up with Billy Hargrove??”
A/N: Happy Spooky Month everyone! Here's the first post for the 2023 Spooky Month event - the next post will be dropping on Tuesday, October 10th. Hope you enjoy!
-----
Things had been strange ever since the arrival of Billy Hargrove and his little sister, Max.
Well, things in Hawkins had been weird for a lot longer than that, especially since you and your best friend Steve had befriended the group of misfit kids that called themselves “the Party”. They’d introduced the two of you to a secret side of Hawkins, where magic and curses and strange creatures ran amok. One of the kids, a girl named Eleven, was able to control objects with her mind and see beyond what was there. Another, Will, was psychic and could connect to other planes of existence. Dustin had a way of knowing how things fit together before anyone else could even guess. Steve’s coworker from Scoops Ahoy, Robin, was a witch. And now, Max and her brother. Werewolves, if what Lucas had told you was to be believed.
But you really couldn’t bring yourself to care much about Billy Hargrove. Not when so much of his life seemed to be spent antagonizing your best friend and trying to disrupt your comfortable station within the school’s hierarchy, seemingly dead set on turning your life upside down. Even at stupid parties like this one, you could hear people chanting Billy’s name while he faced off against Steve in a match of beer pong somewhere deeper in the house while you try to coax the sticker-covered flask away from Robin in the kitchen.
“Robs, babe,” you murmur, sidling up beside her and leaning back against the kitchen island, “I think Vickie likes you already. I know it’s scary to risk rejection, but a love potion isn’t the solution here.”
Robin nods slowly to herself, but her fingers don’t loosen around the metal. “But what if I can’t do it?”
You cock your head, smiling as she meets your eyes. “But isn’t asking her and knowing better than using that and not knowing how she really feels?”
It takes a moment of consideration, but your friend nods, setting the flask on the chipped marble countertop. 
“It’s more of an enhancer than-” Robin starts and it’s clear that you’re about to get one of Robin’s infamous lectures on the science of magic when she is cut off by someone snatching the flask from its place in front of the two of you.
“Aww, so sweet of you to have my next drink ready for me,” Billy Hargrove leers at you, unscrewing the cap of the flask even as his usual infuriating smirk slips over his lips, pretty blue eyes fixed on yours in with that intense, holier-than-thou look he always had. Just because he was tall and handsome and had pretty eyes and hair that you kind of want to curl your fingers into and use to pull him closer to shut him up with a kiss, doesn’t mean he could do anything but irritate you by looking at you like he knew something he wasn’t willing to share.
Your heart lurches in your chest as he raises the flask, you know you have to at least try to stop him, especially since Robin seems so stunned you’re not entirely sure she could say anything at all.
“Probably don’t wanna drink that, Hargrove,” you say, reaching out just in time to catch his wrist. “Might end up with something worse than a hangover.”
Billy leans forward against the counter, using his other forearm to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow pointedly as he looks at your hand, holding tight around his wrist, before his eyes shift up to meet yours. “You threatenin’ me?”
A derisive snort escapes you, and you gesture subtly for Robin to make her escape. The last thing you’d want is for Billy to figure out she had anything to do with whatever happens if he’s stubborn enough to drink the potion and start targeting her once it wears off. She catches your hint and mumbles an excuse about finding Steve, disappearing quickly into the crowd. 
“Of course not,” you say, releasing him and holding your hands up placatingly. Sure, you didn’t really want to spend longer than necessary around Billy Hargrove, but you wanted to spend time with a pissed off Billy Hargrove even less. “Just think it probably wouldn’t be something you would like, so I was just hoping to get it back,” you reached for it as you spoke, leaning across the island yourself to try to make a grab for the flask. 
Billy snatches it away, taking a long gulp from the mouth of the flask, grinning at you all the while. He pulls a face, but doesn’t wince the way one might at the burn of alcohol, but you can see the moment the look in his eyes starts to shift and the realization hits you with all the weight of a semi-truck.
Billy Hargrove had just taken a love potion while looking right at you. Billy Hargrove was about to be convinced that you were the love of his life.
“Well,” you say, eyes flickering around to look anywhere but at Billy, “I should really be going.” You push back upright, swiftly turning to make your way out the back door of the house and starting off down the sidewalk in the direction of your own home before Billy could speak. You don’t make it far before you realize you’re being followed, the scuff of Billy’s worn leather boots giving him away as he trails behind you.
“You’re not as stealthy as you think you are,” you call back over your shoulder, pace remaining steady even as Billy speeds up to walk beside you.
“Wasn’t tryin’ to be,” he drawls, lips quirking up into something softer than his usual sneer. “Just walkin’.” 
You study him for a long moment. “Didn’t you drive to the party? Surprised you’d leave your precious Camaro behind.”
“I’ve been drinking,” he shrugs, clearly trying to appear nonchalant. “Drunk driving’s dangerous, y’know.” He’s quiet for a minute and you find yourself almost wondering what he’s thinking.
“You don’t have to walk me home if that’s what this is,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets and focusing your eyes on the way the lights on the stoplight a few blocks down flicker. “Steve already made me promise to call him when I get home.”
Billy huffs and he almost seems to be pouting when you glance over at him. “Don’t see why you’re with that loser in the first place. ‘s not good enough for you anyway.”
His words shock you enough that your steps falter and you have to turn to face him to see if he’s joking or not. Billy looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. 
You have to fumble for words for a minute, the first thing you’re able to force out being a weak protest. “Steve’s not a loser!” Then the rest of his words catch up to you, “And he’s just my best friend, anyways.”
Billy seems to brighten at that, a more genuine smile crossing his lips than you’d ever seen before. “So,” he says, moving toward you slowly. The dull orange glow of the streetlights makes his hair shine almost copper and his eyes flash that distinct werewolf silver as he stalks toward you, gently herding you backward until your back is pressed to the brick wall of some long-closed business and Billy’s in front of you, arms caging you in on either side. On any other day, you might’ve felt claustrophobic- trapped and threatened by someone determined to fuck up your life. But today- with that love drunk look in Billy's eyes and that fond grin on his face, you were hesitantly pleased with your position. "If you're not with Harrington," Billy starts, leaning just a bit closer, until you can almost feel the breath of his words against your lips, "Does that mean you're available to go out with me on Friday?"
Part of you is tempted to say yes- to give in to this sweet, intoxicating side of Billy and let this go as far as he wants to take it- but the rest of you knows that what's happening is wrong.
You press a hand to Billy’s chest, pushing him back enough to give yourself some breathing room. 
"I would, but this isn't real, Billy." You force yourself to say, "You drank a love potion tonight- this- you don't mean any of this."
Billy laughs then, full and unrestrained and the most genuine you've ever heard him be. "That shit doesn't work on werewolves. Metabolism’s too fast for it to really do much of anything," he says, grin unable to be helped even as his laughter subsides. "And even if it did, the stuff that your buddy whipped up just makes feelings that's already there easier to act on."
You blink, the pressure you'd been using to keep Billy at bay slacking as you think through what he'd said. If he hadn't been affected by Robin’s potion then- 
Billy nudges closer, slipping his arms around your middle and tucking his face against the side of your neck. "The reason I was always so shitty to Harrington is that I was jealous," he murmurs softly, and you can feel the way he grins just a little wider as you start to relax against him, "I wanted to have people look at me like they look at him. I wanted to have you look at me like I was him." 
You can’t help the way your hands come up to curl around him too, the way your fingers curl into his shirt, or the way you press just a bit closer to him. You can’t help the answering grin from carving its way across your cheeks at the thought of how pleased Billy seems to be at being the center of your attention, but you also can’t stop those few little questions from itching away inside your mind. 
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” The thought escapes you almost unbidden, before you can second-guess yourself, and you can’t help but keep talking. “Why didn’t you ask me out? Or- or just say hi? Something other than-” you gesture vaguely back in the direction of the party.
The tired sigh that escapes him makes it clear he knows you’re talking about his grudge against Steve and all the drama he’s stirred up for the two of you.
“It’s-” he has to pause and think over his words for a moment before he can continue. “My experience with love is… complicated. My mom died when I was little and my dad- he changed after that. Got mean. Angry.” He swallows hard, pulling away far enough to look at you, to really look at you. “He made it clear that he expected pretty specific behavior from me and anything that didn’t meet that wasn’t… good for me. Liking a guy- well, that was pretty far from what he’d expect.” His hands drop from your sides and he steps back a bit, arms crossing over his chest like he’s trying to distance himself from his thoughts. “So I was rude and sarcastic and I was mean to Harrington because at least that kept me in your peripheral.” He meets your eyes again, bright and open and honest in the orange glow of the streetlights, “But I don’t want to just be in your peripheral anymore.” 
With all of what he'd said playing through your mind, finding the right words is proving difficult. "If we’re gonna try this, you've gotta leave Steve alone," you start finally, heart squeezing with more fondness than you're ready to admit as you watch the realization of what you mean starts to sink in and a million-watt smile pulls at Billy’s lips. "And Robin and the kids, too.”
A giddy laugh escapes Billy and he takes your hand in his, tugging you back down the street in the direction the two of you had been walking. “That’s a deal I’d make a thousand times over,” he says, grinning brightly as he walked with you, fingers intertwined with yours, hands swinging easily between the two of you.
Conversation flows easily as the two of you walk and you’re more at peace with Billy now than you could ever remember being with any of your exes, he insists on walking you home no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t need to. 
“Go out with me on Friday?” He says as the two of you stop at the foot of your driveway. “We could go for a picnic or to the drive-in if you want?”
When he’s looking at you like that, you can’t help but agree, quickly finding yourself more and more excited about your pending date. 
Billy kisses your hand before he lets go, stepping back as you turn away from him and head for your house. 
Billy smiles to himself as he watches you make your way up the driveway, keeping watch until you're safely inside, before turning and heading off in the direction of his own home. No, he knew he'd never have needed that love potion- not when it came to you. Billy Hargrove had been intoxicated by you since the first time he met you and he knows that isn't going to change any time soon.
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ceruleancattail · 6 months
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A Drabble on discord that got out of control. Oops-
Negotiations
Nightfall Leona x diplomat reader
You’ve been sent to situations less tense then this.
It’s ironic, as someone who’s worked with the government before. Intertwining your fingers, your nails dug deep into the flesh of your palm. A deterrent from trembling. Shaking. A flaw in your composure.
You know. The moment they even smell a hint of weakness from you, the slightest bit of fear, and it’s over. They’ll surround you like a pack of scavengers, tearing into you like you’re their last meal.
”It’ll be an easy job! Just talk to them. It’s what you’re trained to do, after all!”
You could still hear the laughter from your boss echoing in your ears. The vague assurances of backup. The way his hand slammed against your back casually, telling you that you would be fine. There was nothing to fear, really.
Yet amid the cloying, choking stench of cigarette smoke and the mournful moans of the ocean’s waves, you’ve never felt more afraid.
Sighing, you lean against one of the harbour’s posts. Glancing around warily, gaze flickering from one end to the other. Waiting for some cars to roll up, or a suited figure to approach. Any signs of them. The Savanaclaw clan, known for their brutality. Crime scenes involving their members were known to be incredibly gory. Spilled guts torn out of their victims’s gut, blood splattered across the walls…
A living nightmare.
A click has your back snapping upright, tense. You would know that click anywhere, even in your sleep. That was the sound of the safety being clicked off a gun. A god damned gun.
The cool metal of the gun’s nuzzle jabbed into your spine. A silent threat. Move one step, and you’ll have lead blasted right through your body.
“This is a easy job!” Crowley said.
Cursing under your breath, you vowed to pluck that crow bald the next time you see him. If you even see him again.
The gun jutted into the curve of your spine, inciting a dull throbbing pain blaring through your skin. Slowly, you raised your hands. A symbol of surrender, meant to pacify.
“I mean no harm.”
You said, forcing your words to sound somewhat calm. Despite your sweaty palms. Despite the rapid pace of your heart, trashing against its cage of bone. Despite the mind-numbing all consuming fear gnawing at the back of your mind right now.
A deep drawl spoke from behind, voice the rich consistency of finely aged wine. It slipped into your ears smoothly, almost like a seductress’ sultry purr.
“‘Course you don’t. Lil’ herbivore coming here all alone…”
A weight pressed against your chest. A hand, fingers rough with callouses. Patting you down. His touch doesn’t linger any longer then necessary, at least. You’re thankful for that.
“Unarmed, at that.”
His hand rests on your waist, before he tightens his grip. Twisting you around with the mere strength of his one arm, forcing you to look at him.
Eyes of emerald, marred by a scar running jagged through one. Like a bolt of lightning, slicing through his skin. Carmel locks of hair fall from his shoulders, braided on one end. The mane of a lion. The leader, of a pack.
There was just something about his gaze that made you want to bow. You resisted the urge, opting instead to draw your lips back, a thin line.
“You’ll think by now that bird would learn to take better care of his things.” A finger slides down the curve of your chin, tilting your head up firmly.
“I am an envoy of the Night Raven Fraction.” You growled, unable to keep the malice out of your voice.
“Unhand me.”
“Tch, feisty little thing, aren’t you? Can’t say you don’t have spunk.
Why don’t you come to my side instead? Might be better then working with an idiot who doesn’t even arm their diplomat before wandering right into the lion’s den.”
You blinked, surprised. All of the ways you predicted this would go, recruitment wasn’t one of them.
“And if I refuse?”
A hearty chuckle, dripping with malice. Those emerald eyes narrow at you, gleaming with a cruel amusement of a cat with its new toy.
“Did I ever say I was asking?”
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ellecdc · 2 months
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A Man With a Plan.1
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: mentions of bullying - only one description of it, but it's chill cuz James tells them to fuck off like the king he is? Descriptions of werewolf behaviour idk. Use of Y/N
Synopsis: Remus planned to never fall in love. Moony had other plans.
“Don’t you think she’s just the loveliest thing, Moons?” James spoke in reverence.
Remus needn’t move his gaze from his book to know that Lily Evans just walked into the library – so he didn’t. 
“Sure is, James.”
“Don’t be getting any ideas though.” James said as he nudged his friend. He was clearly trying to go for light and breezy, but Remus caught the nervous twinge in his voice.
“You truly have nothing to worry about, Prongs.” He muttered.
“What? Don’t like birds?” James asked, though he was still watching Lily make her way over to her friends.
“Who doesn’t like birds?” Sirius questioned as he appeared out of nowhere, swatting Remus’ feet off a neighbouring chair and taking the seat for himself.
“Remus, apparently.” Peter answered from behind his book.
Remus finally lowered his book to regard his friends. “That is not what I said.”
“He said he doesn’t like Lily.” James told Sirius, finally turning his attention away from this girl to look at his mate like can you believe this guy?
“I literally just said I agreed that she was lovely.” Remus guffawed.
“If you think she’s so lovely, why don’t you go ask her out then?” Sirius asked with a smirk, causing James to let out a strangled groan. 
“What! No, common that’s like, against the bro code. Oh! Hi Y/N!” James cut himself off as he spotted you entering the library.
“Hello, James.” You greeted serenely as you started towards him. “What has your aura so pink today?”
This caused both Sirius and Remus’ eyebrows to cock, though neither of them interrupted yours and James’ interaction. 
“We were just talking about how lovely Lily is.” James answered solemnly.
“Yes, I suppose that would do it.” You answered as you turned to follow James’ gaze. 
“It’s funny, her aura turns the same colour when she looks at you. I wonder what that could mean.” You said softly, completely missing the way James’ head reared back.
“Well, I must be off. I’ve been trying to check out a book all week, but each time I’ve come to the library I’ve ended up distracted trying to clear the nargles from the shelves. The library is just full of them!” 
Your voice was feather light as you bid a simple goodbye to James who returned it with an easy smile before you floated away.
James turned from your retreating form to see the bemused faces of his friends, sans Peter who still hadn’t raised his head from his book.
“What was that?” Sirius finally asked.
“What was what?” James asked as he furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”
“Since when are you friends with her?” Sirius continued.
“We have care of magical creatures together. She’s tutoring me, actually. She’s really quite nice.” James said as he picked up his own forgotten textbook.
Sirius, still not able to let it go, added, “She’s an odd little bird, isn’t she?” 
James only shook his head. “She’s harmless. People give her a harder time than she deserves.” 
“Perhaps...” Remus acquiesced. “But what the hell is a nargle?” 
“Oh, not a clue.” James answered simply before beginning to work on his Ancient Runes translation.
Remus and Sirius exchanged one more look before moving to their own homework.
It’s not that Remus didn’t know who you were – Hogwarts wasn’t a big enough school to not know the other students in your own year – but there had never been any interactions between your circles of friends. Namely, Remus’ friends and whoever you happened to hang out with never seemed to intertwine. Remus had to assume you had friends – even he had friends, and he was a monster – but he had no idea who they could be. 
Remus had to admit you were a cute little thing, if a little odd as Sirius said. James could be a lot of things, but he always saw the best in people; so, it really shouldn’t have surprised Remus that James had made a friend of you. 
What Remus didn’t yet know was what your newfound friendship with James would mean for him.
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“So, what do we think? Does Lily here have some competition?” Marlene joked with a wicked grin as she threw her arm across Lily’s shoulders at the Gryffindor table.
“Competition for what?” Sirius asked around a mouthful of eggs from his spot across from Peter and Remus.
“James, of course.” Dorcas clarified.
Lily groaned. “I was never competing.”
“I mean, who needs tutoring in care of magical creatures? Don’t you just like, show up and feed them? Seems like a ruse to me.” Mary chuckled from her place.
Peter leaned into Remus before adding. “Does seem a little weird that James needs help in care of magical creatures, seeing as that’s exactly what he does once a month.”
Remus nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure. Apparently, he hadn't regained it quickly enough. 
“What’s so funny over there?” Lily asked as she narrowed her teasing-filled eyes at the two offending boys.
“Nothing at all, Evans. But trust me when I say you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to the future Mr. Evans-Potter.” He responded easily. All the mirth left Lily’s face as she turned her gaze towards her breakfast, but both Peter and Remus noticed the faint blush dusting her cheeks. 
It was surprising to all, although not surprising at all (I mean, come on, James has been at this for seven years – it was bound to come about eventually), that Lily was slowly beginning to warm up to James’ advances. It probably helped that they were head girl and boy this year, it also probably helped that James was less annoying about it and far more polite with his advances, and it also probably helped that the rest of Lily’s friends really quite liked James. 
As if summoned, James accompanied by Lily’s competition, entered the Great Hall together. 
“I’d really like that, Y/N. Thank you!” James could be heard saying as the two of you approached his friends.
“It’s really no problem, James. I’m sure they’d love to have more visitors.” You responded softly. Remus noticed your smile was just as soft as your voice; he thought it was lovely. 
What the fuck? Stop thinking people are lovely, you git. He scolded himself immediately. 
“Who’s this little birdie introducing you to, Prongsie?” Sirius asked as he shot a salacious wink your way.
You furrowed your brows at him in confusion.
“Birdie?” You asked James softly. He smiled kindly as he turned to you. “A nickname, Y/N. The way Sirius just said it could be taken as a compliment.” 
“Or an insult if you don’t appreciate such brazen flirting.” Dorcas added which earned her an elbow to the ribs from said flirt. 
“Anyway,” James interjected, looking towards you somewhat awkwardly. “Y/N here was helping me study facts about thestrals when she told me she has befriended a wild herd not far from Hogwarts. She said she’d take me to meet them.”
“Meet thestrals? Can you even see thestrals, Prongsie?” Sirius asked inquisitively. 
“There are other ways to enjoy the presence of beings without being able to see them.” You offered simply, your tone remaining nothing but kind even as you corrected him. Remus couldn’t help but smile at you.
Stop smiling, dumbass. He mentally berated himself.
“Quite right. I’d like to try feeding them and petting them.” James said with a level of finality. “If you think they’ll let me.” He added hastily as he turned to you.
You offered the git a soft smile and patted his arm placatingly. “I’m sure they will, James. In fact, I think your voice might be the perfect hertz; the thestrals will love your lower tones.”   
The majority of the group just furrowed their brows at you, but Marlene began to cackle. 
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She said as she wiped a non-existent tear from below her eyes.
James’ eyes turned stormy as he locked his gaze on Marlene, but his voice remained somewhat relaxed as he addressed you. “Thanks again, Y/N. I’ll see you in class.” 
You smiled politely at him before making your way over to your house table.
“How ironic is it that such a ditz was sorted into the house that values learning, wisdom, wit, and intellect.” She snorted, either missing James’ glare or ignoring it entirely. 
“Marlene, I love you, you’re one of my best friends, we grew up together, you’re my sister from another mister, I would die for you.” he started, making sure she was looking at him before proceeding. “Do not make fun of my friends.”
Remus was certain his eyebrows had flown right off his forehead as he exchanged a look with his friends. Sirius and Peter seemed to be in agreement that they’d never seen James so stern as he sat down beside Sirius and started filling his plate. Unbeknownst to the boys, Lily was looking at James with a small smirk a look of respect from her end of the bench. 
“So, boys,” James began, “I was thinking, for our next brilliant prank...”
And just like that, James was back to planning pranks with the Marauders as if he hadn’t just blown the entire Gryffindor table’s minds. 
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The rest of the month went about the same; you and James could be found around the castle together, which Sirius was more than happy to take the piss about, and none of James’ friends made fun of you anymore - genuinely fearing James’ wrath ever since he hexed some Hufflepuffs who made a passing comment about you one day. 
Remus didn’t think you noticed any of it, however; at least it didn’t appear that way. He found that quite remarkable. He found you quite remarkable.
He hated that. 
It’s not that Remus was a prude, but he didn’t like liking you. It made him feel icky – out of control, like he didn’t have a say in any of it. Casual hookups were much more easy and comfortable for him, it was easy to roll over the next morning, say thanks, and carry on like nothing.
But just sharing a small nod of acknowledgment with you made him giddy. 
He hated that.
He certainly hadn’t agreed to liking you – he had rules. Rules like – having sex with someone was fine, having feelings for someone was not. And he didn’t want to have sex with you!
Okay, that’s not necessarily true.
He didn’t not want to have sex with you, but that’s not what drew him to you. You seemed ethereal; otherworldly; perhaps a touch too pure.
Certainly, too pure for a werewolf.
Which is why he had rules in the first place; he would not allow someone to get tangled up in his curse of a life, to suffer through loving someone as awful as him. It was painful enough being Remus, he wasn’t going to curse someone to loving him. 
So, Remus made a plan: he would ignore this friendship between you and James and pretend like you didn’t exist, only being as polite as humanly possible to stay within James’ good graces. 
That plan was fucked to shit in potions. 
The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff 7th year class was finishing up as the Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s entered for their own class. Remus inwardly sighed as he spotted you across the room heading for the ingredient supply cupboard. Remus sighed again when some of your fellow housemates chuckled watching you struggle to carry the many ingredients on your own, none of which offered to help. 
“Oh! Are you headed to the supply closet? Mind taking these too?” A snarky little witch (Remus replaced that W with a B in his mind) said as she placed another vial on top of your load without waiting for your response. 
Remus had to give you credit, however, as all you did was smile kindly as you reconfigured the many vials and jars in your arms. 
Remus sighed outwardly, and loudly, as he made his way to follow you into the supply closet.
“Here, let me help you with that.” He muttered somewhat petulantly like he hadn't just volunteered his help unprompted as he relieved you of some vials and jars.
You looked at him with a face of surprise which quickly morphed into one of gratitude. Remus loved hated it.
“Thank you, Remus. That’s very kind of you.” You all but sung to him. Your voice sounded like angels. Fuck. 
Remus scoffed. “Not quite as nice as you, cleaning up for everyone else.” He muttered somewhat darkly.
You bobbed your head back-and-forth noncommittally. “Oh, I don’t mind so much. They do plenty for me in return.”
He turned to you, genuinely interested to hear what exactly those knob heads ever did for you. “Like what?”
You smiled to yourself as you continued placing ingredients in their rightful homes. “Well, they’re always keeping me on my toes by hiding my things around the castle. They must know how much I enjoy a good treasure hunt.”
Remus’ hand stopped in midair as he watched you continue to work. Did he hear you right? Did you actually believe these people were being kind? Did you think of those people as your friends?
“Or perhaps they don’t know that. Then in that case, I suppose the joke would be on them.” You said plainly as you turned your attention back to Remus, offering him a slightly pursed smile – like you were trying to hide the full extent of your joy at the thought, though the dimple that appeared on your left cheek gave you away.
It actually surprised a bark of laughter from him as he forced his hand to resume its task. “I suppose so.” He concurred. 
Remus heard a small tinkling sound and a gentle ‘oh’ escape your lips as a vial rolled into his foot. You both bent down to pick it up, but Remus was faster. As he went to hand you the offending vial, your fingers brushed gently.
For Remus, you may as well have set off a bomb.
Remus swore he felt every neuron in his body firing at the same time, his blood cells turned to lava and his veins turned to ice, his feet felt like they were fully rooted to the dungeon floor below him while his heart thrummed and took off in flight from his body. 
And through all of this, Moony was going feral. 
“Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.”
Remus ripped his hand away from you like it burned – and in some ways it did – but the newfound space between your beings seemed to hurt even more. 
Remus’ chest was heaving, and his heart was going a mile a minute while Moony continued howling inside of his head. He could barely hear the classroom behind him through the blood rushing in his ears.
Remus could count many worst parts about this whole experience, but at this very moment, the worst part was your face.
Your head was cocked to the side like a confused cocker spaniel as your brows furrowed ever so slightly. You peered at Remus with a concerned gaze and your entire being just oozed kindness and understanding.
As if you could understand the clamoring of the 13-year-old werewolf living inside his brain screaming at him to lunge at you, bow down to you, fold you up and put you in his pocket, to crack open his ribcage and place you inside of him for eternity. What the fuck was wrong with him!?
“Are you alright, Remus?” You asked, so, so, so softly. In fact, you said it so softly that Remus was sure if Moony hadn’t just decided to dial into the exact channel of your frequency, he would have missed it completely. 
“Yes.” He breathed as he shook his head no. “No. I don’t know. I-”
You nodded sympathetically, as if Remus had said anything coherent at all. “That’s alright.”
Remus willed his lungs to take a deep breath. Because, was it really? Was it really alright? Because it sort of felt like Remus was dying; like his life was over as he knew it. 
“Ah, Miss. L/N, you should be off to your next class now, quickly. Mr. Lupin, please take your seat.” Mr. Slughorn said, poking his head briefly into the supply cupboard before retreating in much the same way.
You nodded politely at the teacher before offering Remus a smile.
“Thank you again for your help, Remus.” You said gently as you moved past him to retrieve your bag before exiting the classroom. Remus Moony wanted to follow you, begged to follow you. He could still smell you – you were everywhere. Fuck, Remus needs to shower.
Remus leaned his head against the cool stone of the dungeon walls. “What’s happening to me?” He moaned miserably to himself.
If only he knew. 
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Continue to chapter two here.
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