#someone had to die to save harry

[sniperjade]

Bad Professor

By the time the sorting hat had made it through half of the first-year students, Regulus Black was on his third glass of wine and very close to being shit-faced. Life had been tough for the former Death Eater after his brother was convicted of one of the worst mass murders in history. The ministry had confiscated the entire Black fortune in reparations, and Regulus had only just managed to whore his way back into good standing, with wealthy spinsters and widows over on the continent. That was until Alessia Zabini had kicked him out three months ago.

He had barely managed to scrape by, let alone indulge in the finer things in life. He had slunk around Grimmauld Place, hawking off whatever finery remained, and bitching to Kreacher about how shit his life was. Then out of the blue, his brotherhood broke out of Azkaban, and Dumbledore requested that he teach Ancient Runes for the year. Regulus remembered the fine food and impenetrable defenses and agreed straight away. He didn’t particularly care for the idea of children, or teaching for that matter, but that was a future problem.

Right now, his blood was buzzing from alcohol and the spliff he’d inhaled earlier. His belly was empty but that would be rectified any minute now, as soon as the children were dealt with. He huffed impatiently and by his side, Severus sniffed loudly.

Regulus leaned on his chair and let his head loll back in a slovenly gesture.

“What the fuck do you want Severus?”

Severus hissed, “The children can see you! They’ll lose all respect for you if you act like this!”

Regulus simply rolled his eyes.

Severus made a disgusted noise. “What on earth happened to you? You used to be a paragon of propriety and respectability. Look at you now.”

Regulus sat up in his chair so that he could pour himself another cup of wine. He tilted his glass at Severus.

“That was before my brother decided to slaughter a heap of people and lose the family fortune. It’s very difficult to be a posh bastard when you’re dirt-poor. Surely you understand that?”

Severus merely grunted in response and turned back to observe the sorting. After a particularly long hat stall, it had declared the last student was a Slytherin and the choir stood to take the stage. Regulus groaned and tried to bury his head underneath his robes. He couldn’t think of anything worse than children singing. This lot appeared to be deliberately trying to shear his brain out through his ears.

When it was finally over Dumbledore presented his welcome speech. Regulus ignored it out until he heard:

“It is with great pleasure that I welcome Professor Remus Lupin, Professor Regulus Black and Professor Lily Potter to the faculty. Professor Lupin will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts after the unfortunate incident with Professor Lockhart last year, Professor Black will be teaching Ancient Runes while Professor Babbling is on leave and Professor Potter will be administering Arithmancy while Professor Vector is on Secondment this year to Durmstrang. Please give them a huge welcome.”

Regulus lurched upward to his feet as the applause rang out around the hall. He looked about feverishly, and his eyes met those of a handsome-looking man in a threadbare robe. Regulus raised an eyebrow at his frank observation and was about to say something when the large doors at the end of the hall slammed open. A stunning red-headed woman, wearing finely tailored robes, tugged a reluctant-looking student through the doors and into the hall.

“Mrs Potter!” Dumbledore cried out, “Harry if you could head off to your own table, Mrs Potter, can join us up here. I was just introducing the new teachers.”

The grumpy-looking student slunk off to the Gryffindor table whilst Mrs Potter came up the front to shake Dumbledore's hand.

“Pssst!” Regulus hissed whilst looking sideways at Severus.

Severus ignored him and looked up at the woman in open admiration.

“Severus!” Regulus tried again until Severus glared up at him.

“That’s Lily Potter? As in, the widow of James Potter? I thought she was in a coma?” Regulus whispered loudly.

Severus’ expression grew stony. “She woke up last year. Didn’t hear about that while gallivanting about Europe?”

Regulus looked back at the woman, and when she turned toward the table, he gave her a huge smile.

Read the rest on Ao3.

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.

“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 

His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”

“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”

“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”

Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.

Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”

~

Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic. 

Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.

But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.

He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving — 

“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door. 

“Come in,” he calls back.

Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”

Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”

Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”

“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself. 

~

Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh. 

His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.

Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.

You.

You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.

Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.

He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.

Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.

Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.

As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.

You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.

Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?

He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.

You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you. 

Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you. 

But nothing. The seconds tick by.

You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”

You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.

“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.

Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”

Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”

College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”

“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”

“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”

“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”

“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.

Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I’m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”

“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”

A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”

There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”

Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.

“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”

You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win. 

“Sure. That would be really fun.”

He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —

“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.

“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”

“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”

You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer. 

Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”

“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”

He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is? 

From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it. 

Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”

Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.

Okay, okay. 

Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[zeldasnotes]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PART22🎄

For some reason Ive noticed that Virgo women adoooore Taurus men and vice versa. I know they trine but there is something special here.

I also noticed that Sagittarius Moons and Cancer Moons adore eachother. Once they meet they are inseperable.

If you have planets in the 8th house my advice to you is to always think about yourself first. Be extremely egoistic. Because you transform people. When people meet you they become better and then they leave. People want you to be their therapist, friend, personal trainer, personal advisor because they can sense your power. They want to take from you and have it to themselves. So be careful what you give and to who. Wait with giving your partner stuff until after you are married.

People with Mercury aspecting Pluto grew up in a home where there was a lot of backhanded comments or where the communication was toxic and sneaky and thats why Mercury/Pluto people think everything people say is a hidden dig towards them. They learned that behind every sentence there is a hidden meaning and now they analyze every word.

Biggie Smalls 11th house ruler is conjunct his Sun. He was very known for his friendship with tupac, also a suspect of Tupacs shooting. His image revolved a lot around friendships and groups.

I got my Moon in my 11th house and I will always respect a person whos humanitarian and fights for equality even if I dont like the person for personal reasons. While I could never respect someone who doesnt care.

My Valentine(447) conjunct a guys Sun got me acting crazy. Like I was so in love with him it was scary. It was the ”I would die for you” kind of love.

A pattern Ive noticed with men and their Venus sign when it comes to settling down:

Leo Venus: Goes for looks and confidence when choosing a life partner. They are the kindest and most generous men but they just NEED someone to show off.

Capricorn Venus: They need someone to build and empire with, they will choose stability and ambition over looks. They need the Blair Waldorf kind of woman. They need to be a powercouple.

Scorpio Venus: Sad but settles for someone who were not their first choice. The one who saves them but they never end up with ”that girl” and they keep dreaming of that special girl and stalks her on fb until they are like 80 years old.

Pisces Venus: They spend too much time dreaming of that perfect person while not even working on themselves to be someone that person would even want. Settles down with someone whos kind and feels bad for them.

Aquarius and Leo placements can sense when something is going to be fashion. They start wearing something and one year later everyone is wearing it.

Men with moon & venus in my 1st house always treats me like a Queen. I love them😭 They make me feel so beautiful❤️

In my opinion 8th house synastry is only nice when its with someone you are physically attracted to or have good synastry with otherwise its just annoying.

Every Sagittarius Venus Ive met had some kind of charm that made them very very popular without trying. They were also gorgeous. Two of my friends from high school had this and there were always some guy madly in love with them.

Ive met so many men with Venus aspecting Saturn who asked too much about my economy. Which was a huge turn-off for me. I showed them the door🚪

Lilith in the 2nd house cant go out without people commenting on their body or asking them where they bought their clothes. People are obsessed with their stuff.

Ive seen so many royal people who got Jupiter conjunct their IC. Or IC in Taurus. Example: Prince Harry, Queen Elizabeth, Kate Middleton.

Venus is pretty, Neptune is beautiful, Moon is cute, Mars is hot, Pluto is sexy, Saturn is perfect, Uranus is gorgeous, Mercury is foxy.

I notice that a modality, sign or even element can be prominent in a whole family or even a whole bloodline. In my family there is a dominance of cardinal energy. A lot of Aries Risings, Capricorn Risings, Cancer Moons and Capricorn Midheavens. So my family cares a lot about acting properly and to be respected. In my friends family there is fixed/scorpio dominance so there is a strong sense of loyalty and secrecy. In her family most family members dont even have social media, you never talk about a family member to outsiders, you spend holidays with family and dont invite friends etc. In my family image is everything and everyone is invited to make more connections. But in these families there is usually someone who lacks that energy and that person might be the black sheep of the family.

Pluto shows strong and intense emotions in the house it sits in. I know someone with Pluto in the 11th house and she got her best friends initials tattooed.💀

People with conjunctions to jupiter are just naturally funny.😂

People with personal planets in the 8th house experience more intense relationship because people who have conjunctions to their planets will also have planets in their 8th house. So they experience 8th house synastry even stronger than others. And if they have Lilith in the 8th house it will be extra strong because then they will have Lilith synastry with those who put planets in their 8th.

© Zeldas Notes 2022

[she-who-fights-and-writes]

Ideas for subverting popular character tropes? I've started a story and am having difficulty making my cast of characters unique. I'd love it if you had any fresh takes on tropes like the mentor, the sidekick, etc...

POPULAR CHARACTER TROPES AND PROMPTS TO SUBVERT THEM

A character trope, sometimes called a character archetype, is a “recognizable element within a story or plot that defines or conveys information about a character. Character tropes can either define a character's entire role in a plot or the character's personality or motivations.” (source: arcstudiopro).

Many people bash “tropes,” but what you have to remember is that there is no such thing as a unique idea; everything has been done before, and the reason why tropes are so popular is because (a lot of time) they work!

It is totally possible to have a "normal" trope in your story without making it a cliché. However, if you’re looking to subvert these expectations, here’s a list of ideas I’ve come up with!

(This is me brainstorming on the fly to help get your gears turning, so I apologize if these aren’t fully fleshed out or if they’ve already been done before!)

1. THE CHOSEN ONE

The “Chosen One” is a trope where “one character is framed as the inevitable hero or antihero of the story, as a result of destiny, unique gifts, and/or special lineage” (source: Wikipedia). The Chosen One is often depicted as naive or unwilling at the beginning, and has a progression of growth through the narrative when they “accept their destiny.”

Examples:

Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Harry Potter (Harry Potter)

Frodo (The Lord of the Rings)

Neo (The Matrix)

Subversions:

1. The protagonist who was believed to be the chosen one from the very beginning discovers that it was actually someone else the whole time and must come to terms with the realization that they no longer have this title that they’ve based their entire life (and perhaps personality) around. (Bonus points if the new Chosen One is someone they’re close to).

2. Every solstice, the “Holy Order” sends a Chosen One to defeat the monster that has been ravaging their town. None ever return. The protagonist is selected as the next Chosen One, only to find that being Chosen does not mean “Chosen to defeat the monster” but rather “Chosen as the sacrifice to appease the monster.” (Bonus points if the reason the Chosen Ones always die is because the “Holy Order” misguides them (gives them broken weapons/drugged food/faulty armor/directs them into traps/etc.)).

3. Having the Chosen Power comes with a price. After someone is Chosen, it is a death sentence. The protagonist must find a way to defeat the villain AND purge themself of the Chosen Power before it’s too late (Bonus points if the villain helps them purge the Chosen Power).

2. THE SIDEKICK

The sidekick is a friend and helper of the main protagonist. They are often depicted as a loyal comic relief character made to emphasize the hero’s greatness, and may be killed off to advance the hero’s journey.

Examples:

Robin (Batman)

Samwise Gamgee (The Lord of the Rings)

Chewbacca (Star Wars)

Pan (His Dark Materials)

Subversions:

1. The “sidekick” is actually the hero of the story; the narrator just has an inflated ego and believes themself to be the hero. Meanwhile, their “sidekick” is the one saving the world.

2. Sidekicks are often depicted as younger than the hero. Perhaps an older sidekick might do good to spice things up (Bonus points if it’s without turning them into the mentor trope).

3. The sidekick is a former hero who had to watch their own sidekick sacrifice themself, and was convinced to leave hiding by the current hero. (Bonus points if the sidekick dies in a poetic way that is a narrative foil to the way his own sidekick died, perhaps in a “I didn’t understand why they would sacrifice themself for me but now I get it”).

4. A ridiculously strong/powerful Mary Sue type character is the sidekick to a Normal Guy™ (Bonus points if they are incredibly content in this position).

5. The sidekick is not a willing sidekick; they were kidnapped by the hero because they have an object/bloodline/power/etc. that is essential to defeating the villain.

3. THE MENTOR

The Mentor is the protagonist’s teacher, who helps them transition from a “normal” person into a hero. The Mentor is often depicted as wise and virtuous, teaching the protagonist not only the ways of fighting or magic, but also the ways of good and evil. The mentor is often killed off to advance the hero’s character arc, due to the fact that they are sometimes seen as a parental figure.

Examples:

Dumbledore (Harry Potter)

Yoda (Star Wars)

Uncle Iroh (Avatar the Last Airbender)

Mr. Miyagi (Karate Kid)

Subversions:

1. The mentor is the narrator. After spending so much time training the Chosen One and raising them like their own child, they must hear news that they have been killed by the villain. While still grieving (or perhaps fueled by revenge), the mentor must venture out and defeat the villain themself.

2. Have the mentor be a woman! You would be shocked at how overwhelmingly male-dominated the “mentor” archetype is!

3. The mentor turns on the protagonist that they trained…not because the mentor has turned evil, but because the mentor believes that the protagonist has become a monster (à la Kung Fu Panda). (Bonus points if the mentor is actually right and the protagonist really has become a monster).

4. The bright-eyed Chosen One thinks the world of their mentor, only to realize through experiences with others that the mentor trained them horribly, and that the mentor only used their training to boost their renown—without expecting them to survive their fight with the villain. (Bonus points if the protagonist is an unreliable narrator, and we as the readers feel just as betrayed by the mentor because we, too, thought they were a great person).

5. The mentor is the former Chosen One, desperate for the current Chosen One to not make the same mistakes. The current Chosen One resents the mentor for pushing them so hard and treating them so cruelly, but in reality the mentor is just overprotective (Bonus points if it’s not revealed that they were the legendary “Defeated Chosen One” until later).

4. THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Although a Damsel in Distress is often associated with female characters, any character is capable of falling into this archetype; mostly known for being a passive figure who exists mostly as an object for the hero to save.

This is one of the few character tropes that is difficult to break the negative stigma, due to its root in misogyny and the disadvantages that come along with having a character without personal goals or motivations. In my opinion, if you have a character that follows this archetype to the T, perhaps you should consider some revising.

Examples:

Lois Lane (Superman)

Princess Buttercup (The Princess Bride)

Mary Jane Watson (Spiderman)

Ann Darrow (King Kong)

Subversions:

1. The passive, meek damsel in distress whom the hero has been working relentlessly to save actually turns out to be a villain! Their supposed rescue efforts were used as a distraction while the evil plot unfolds, and ends with a fight to the death!

2. The damsel in distress gets in a huge fight with the protagonist when they come to the rescue; they were undercover the entire time, and the protagonist has ruined their plans!

5. THE FEMME FATALE

The femme fatale is usually characterized as a mysterious woman who seduces and entraps men with her body. This doesn’t necessarily have to be a gendered archetype, but often errs into sexualization and misogyny (especially in works written by men).

Examples:

Jane Smith (Mr. & Mrs. Smith)

Nikita (La Femme Nikita)

Catwoman (Batman)

Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct)

Subversions:

1. The Femme Fatale doesn’t know they’re a femme fatale. They are a master of seduction and gaining valuable information through licentious wiles, but it’s all an accident; they just-so-happen to sleep with rivals and they just-so-happen to say important information. The femme fatale casually brings this information up in conversation, rendering the team awed by their “impressive skill set.”

2. The Femme Fatale is male or nonbinary (Bonus points if they will seduce any gender).

3. There is a Femme Fatale team; an icy power couple dedicated to killing through threesomes.

6. THE GEEK (OR MAD SCIENTIST OR NERD OR KNOW-IT-ALL ETC.)

The Geek, or the Mad Scientist, is the character known for knowing everything. They often have a lack of social skills, and their vast knowledge of random things helps the characters when they’ve been backed into a corner…though they sometimes tend to be a quick fix for writers who’ve written their characters into a corner and need an easy solution.

Examples:

Sheldon (The Big Bang Theory)

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

Spock (Star Trek)

L (Death Note)

Subversions:

1. The Geek has leadership skills and ability to inspire others. Awkward is not the complete opposite of charismatic; just because someone may have trouble talking to people doesn’t mean they can’t foster intense loyalty from their comrades. (Think along the lines of L from Death Note. Bonus if they’re the leader of their organization, and their subordinates would face God and walk backwards into Hell for them).

2. Combine the Geek with another archetype, perhaps an antithesis archetype like the Dumb Jock. For example, a Geek that enjoys the outdoors and extreme sports like rock climbing (but rather than to get buff, they just want to look at the fantastic granite deposits on the side of the mountain they’re climbing). Or perhaps a Geek Femme Fatale, whose “special interest” is the psychology of seduction.

3. The Geek hates what they do. The “passion” that Geeks usually have for machines/non-humans/their chosen expertise is forced upon them because they’re super smart. In reality, they’d wanted to take it easy going to business school but nooooo the world was at stake so they had to become an expert in the intergalactic space-time continuum.

4. The Geek is useless. Their musings are more mania than genius, their explanations and ideas incomprehensible to a normal human being, and the group only keeps them around with the hopes that one day they’ll come up with an idea that actually makes sense. (Bonus if that idea comes at the climax of the story).

8. THE DUMB JOCK (OR HIMBO)

The dumb jock, also known as “the brawn,” is an archetype that is often categorized by being all buff and no brains. They often are, or at least begin as, the antagonist of the story, and if they aren’t, they’re considered the “Himbo” character (with character traits being buff, dumb, and respectful to women), who are often reduced merely to their attractiveness and stupidity, without much depth.

Examples:

Jason Carver (Stranger Things)

Mitch Downe (ParaNorman)

Kronk (The Emperor’s New Groove)

Bolin (The Legend of Korra)

Subversions:

1. The himbo and/or jock is frustrated with the way that their comrades always reduce them to the brawn. They feel left out and isolated because they can’t understand the lofty conversations of their peers, and know that they, in a way, look down on them for not being as smart (Bonus if this becomes a major plot point in the character’s arc, causing a huge blowout fight that fissures the group because of it).

2. The himbo/jock’s stupidity does not reduce them to comic relief. The himbo/jock is well-respected and has incredible emotional intelligence and charisma/street smarts, but merely lacks in textbook intelligence.

3. The himbo/jock is a woman! Break through the stereotype of dumb strong people being men and put some herbos in your story (Bonus if you don’t sexualize her and just let her be herself).

4. An idea from the jock/himbo becomes an integral part of the plan to save the world!

9. THE ANTIHERO

The antihero archetype is categorized by their lack of conventional heroic attributes, their execution of their goals through morally gray means, and their frequent reluctance to be the one saving the world. Their motivations may be vengeance, hatred, or any other less-than heroic inspiration besides “the greater good.” In fact, the antihero is sometimes the antagonist of the story, but due to the fact that the audience is seeing things from their perspective, they often tend to root for them.

The antihero used to be its own subversion of the “Chosen One” archetype, but became so widespread that it itself became its own archetype. That’s why antiheroes are so varied, to the point where you may not even need a subversion due to how many possible ideas there are to choose from. (This was the hardest list to make!)

Examples:

Barry Berkman (Barry)

Harley Quinn (DC)

Cassie Thomas (Promising Young Woman)

Deadpool (Deadpool)

Subversions:

1. The antihero feels guilt. Oftentimes, an antihero is depicted as stone-cold and dead-set on their actions (and sometimes they’re right! If someone killed my family, I wouldn’t care about “being the bigger person”). However, an interesting subversion may be guilt or self-awareness surrounding their actions playing a large role in the execution of their goals.

2. The antihero is not a lone wolf, and develops meaningful and positive relationships with others rather than having it be 90% snarky banter. Sometimes, antiheroes suffer from a lack of three-dimensionality due to most of their dialogue being cheeky one-liners. Anchor them solidly into the story by building a web of relationships to support them! (They don’t have to all be lovey-dovey, either! Even enemy relationships can be more than snark).

3. An honor code. Giving an antihero with an interesting honor code regarding killing, stealing, or any of their other morally gray deeds could be an excellent subversion! Having characters who are stone-cold killers but draw the line (perhaps in an odd way, such as refusing to steal cars or kill pets), somewhere can be a great way to develop their personality and show the readers their motivations.

Hope these all helped, and happy writing!

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer. 

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius. 

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you. 

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern. 

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape." 

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time. 

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple. 

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now. 

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside. 

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help. 

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again. 

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots. 

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand. 

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry  @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326

[severussnapemylove]

finally someone that thinks lily was a horrible friend to snape!! People always get very defensive whenever I say that I don't like Lily and I try to explain to them why but they're always just pro mauraders and stuff, and they don't even give proper reasoning 😭 . But I think lily was a horrible friend because like her best friend or what she claimed to be her best friend was getting bullied and tormented and she barely even did nothing about it, and then went off and married her "best friends" main bully. I get it that Snape shouldn't have called her a mudblood but I also completely understand his frustration that would've been leading up to that and he very obviously regretted it (which I know doesn't excuse it but still)

Anyways sorry for rambling!! Im so glad I found your blog ❤️

Hiya!! Ramble away <3 :)

I think Lily gets this sainted status because she died to protect Harry and saved him through love magic. And that is great, she was a very brave mother. But as a friend, what I've seen so far is disappointing. When you have a best friend, if you truly love them, you are ride-or-die for them. And Lily, from what I've seen, just comes across as at best apathetic. She knows he comes from a bad home environment; she can see him being bullied and targeted, and she thinks he should be grateful to his bully for restraining from killing him????? She married the boy who indecently assaulted her best friend?????? And her defending the Marauders vs the Slytherins with "They didn't use dark magic". What the hell? That's like saying "He was stabbed with a kitchen knife, not a hunting knife. It's completely different." And yes, Sev crossed a line with the mudblood comment, but hurt people at their breaking point cross lines, they say heated things they don't mean, and unless you've been in that situation it's hard to understand. He spent his life regretting one word. But if I saw my friend being choked out by a pack of thugs, said thugs would sent swimming with the giant squid. Who stands on the sidelines while their best friend is being hurt?

Lily is just not a good friend. And the fact that she was Severus's only light in life is just painful. How different could his life had turned out if he had only a few people truly on his side?

[madhatterbri]

Broken | B.Z.

Summary: Blaise wants to hide your relationship. You confront him about it.

"Aren't you going to invite me to Slug's Christmas party? I hear you can invite someone not in the club," you questioned with excitement. Professor Slughorn only invited the shining stars in the Wizarding World. Your family blacklisted you from ever being considered. After the break in at the Ministry of Magic last year, your father was arrested for aiding Lord Voldemort.

"No," Blaise answered while never looking up from his book. He dipped his quill in the ink jar and continued to write notes.

"Oh. Are you not going?" you pushed the Slughorn party a little further. Something didn't sit right with you. He was normally short but this was a bit much. Your stomach sank. Did he invite another witch?

"I will be attending alone,"

"Why won't you invite me? This would be the perfect time to reveal our relationship,"

"I said no, your name. We aren't in a relationship," he asserted while never looking up from his book. Normally you would drop the discussion but this time was different. Maybe it was your friend's words getting in your head. He was never going to want more. You started to pack your things. He looked up slightly panicked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not going to be someone's dirty little secret, Zabini," you answered. "I am going to be with someone that wants to be with me,"

His dark brown eyes stared at you while you zipped your messenger bag closed. His teeth clenched and his eyes darted around wondering what to do. Thoughts sped through his mind. He opened his mouth to speak. Before he could speak you were leaving.

You walked out of the library trying to control your temper. Tears pricked your eyes. This had to be done. Blaise was in hot pursuit of you. Your name rolled off his tongue as he tried to get your attention.

"Your name," Cormac called out. You stopped in your tracks quickly. Blaise took a few steps back. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I was wondering if you would like to join me to Professor Slughorn's party,"

The thought of going with him revolted you. He was a creep. The spoiled brst only knew your name because he saw you attending your father's trial. Imagine seeing a girl crying for her father and a jerk hitting on her.

You felt Blaise eyes stare behind you. The idea was tempting. A party sounded more enticing than crying about your first Christmas without your father. Maybe Cormac changed since the summer. You swallowed your disgust and gladly accepted.

Things at the Christmas party made you realize you should have hung out with Pansy. Things went perfectly at first. Your date gave you all the attention you wished Blaise would have given you. Cormac wasn't afraid to be see with you. Except he wasn't all perfect.

He couldn't keep his hands to himself. You tried acting like you didn't mind it. At first it was innocent. His hand would rest on the small of your back. His hands were suddenly brushing against other parts of your body. Whenever you noticed Blaise was watching you allowed it. Merlin, you knew you were going to need to scrub your skin off.

Everytime he spotted mistletoe he tried to kiss you. He only managed to kiss your cheek though. You always played it off that you were impressed with something at the party. Christmas decorations or Harry Potter were often used as an excuse.

Your saving grace came at the cost of Professor Snape's clothing. Cormac ended up throwing up by the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The boy's sick ended up splatting on to the former Potions professor. Your date was given a detention and thrown out of the party.

After a few minutes, you decided to turn in. The party was starting to die down. Mister Filch caught Draco Malfoy out after curfew. Professor Snape walked with him in tow. You hoped the little ferret didn't cost your house points.

"Your name?" Blaise asked once you two made it to the Slytherin common room. The room was empty. Your fellow Slytherins were long asleep. "A word,"

"I got to actually see what it was like to be with someone that isn't ashamed of me. Do you know what that was like?" You asked with tears in your eyes. A shaky breath slipped out of you. A single tear slid down your cheek. You shrugged and shook your head. "You know I defended you against everyone but you ended up being exactly like they said,"

"And what am I?"

"A sad, lonely bloke who will never love because of his mum," you answered harshly. His nostrils flared as he glared at you. No one was allowed to mention his mother to him. She was a sore subject to him.

"You don't know what you are talking about like usual," he snapped.

"You aren't going to let anyone love you. You didn't want to give me attention because you think I will turn on you like your mother did to your dad," you stopped yourself. So many more words begged to spill from you. They would have just hurt him. Just because you were hurting doesn't mean he should hurt too.

"You think you are so clever," he chuckled dryly. "Stop talking about things you don't know about,"

"I love you, Blaise," you confessed. He flinched at your words. All he would need is one hand to count the times his mother told him those words. A piece of your heart broke at his reaction. He truly didn't know how special he was. "But I can't help fix someone that wants to stay broken,"

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Hey. Again. So I am in love with peeta mellark and would love if you could write about him having a partner at home in d12 and when him and katniss have to do the whole lovers act in the arena they get super jealous (pretend him and katniss never fell in love really) and when he comes home they're avoiding him and he confronts them about what's wrong. It end with them cuddling and talking about the games

Summary: “PEETA MELLARK!” Effie Trinket had read his name from the slip of paper in her hands, and you felt your knees give out. Katniss Everdeen had just made a spectacle of herself as the first volunteer of District 12. So where did that leave the love of your life? Apparently, inside an arena where he appears to fall in love with his district partner. Can things ever be the same when they both managed to make it back home as the ‘Star Crossed Lovers’? (No use of Y/N!)

Warnings: mentions of bad family behaviour, mentions of disassociation but not named as such, (almost) suicidal thoughts mentioned very briefly, jealousy from reader,

A/N: So this turned less from a jealous reader and more into a hurt/comfort scenario. I apologize if this isn’t exactly what you requested, I don’t normally write jealousy cause I don’t like how toxic it can turn sometimes. I tried my best! Hope you like it!

You were living through your worst nightmare. You would’ve amended that, at one point in your life, saying that perhaps living through the Hunger Games would be your worst nightmare, but you couldn’t imagine that even replacing yourself with Peeta and knowing you would die would be any worse than this. If this had been a week earlier, you would’ve said hearing Peeta’s name be called from Effie Trinket’s mouth was your worst nightmare. But surely, nothing could be worse than this.

Hearing Peeta’s name during the reaping had drained all life from you. However, seeing him before he left- for the very last time everyone kept telling you, but you managed to keep hope- had wrung an entire lifetime through you and faded away once more. You felt exhausted as you watched the train pull out of District 12. You refused to give up hope and told him so during your final goodbyes.

“Don’t you dare try to act like this is already over. Work with Katniss, I heard she’s good with a bow. Do whatever you need to, but don’t give up. Don’t ever give up because I am here and I’m waiting for you to come home-”

“Hey,” Peeta interrupted gently, taking your hands and pulling you into his arms, “My love for you is like the sun. Always shining, and always there.” He kissed the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, “I’m not giving up. I would never do that to you.”

Watching them dress him up had a morbid twist to it, knowing they were just trying to make him pretty enough to die. Nothing they do would be good enough, he was always the most handsome when smiling genuinely- and there was no way that anyone in the Capitol would be able to force him to smile genuinely. Even during his interview, when he joked around with Caesar and they leaned over to smell each other, a sadness pulsed through your heart at the fake, plastered smile he had. Even when asked about a ‘sweetheart back home,’ and Peeta had replied that he loved someone but refused to name them, he still hadn’t really smiled once. But you knew, once he looked into that camera he was looking directly at you. And that you were both mourning every second that you couldn’t spend together.

Once the countdown began, you watched Peeta’s harried face. How he had searched for Katniss, but she had run off without him. You were beside yourself when he was eventually left alone with the Careers- then felt blessed by any gods still living when they took him on as a temporary ally to find Katniss. You knew he was only doing so to save his own hide, and you couldn’t thank him enough for it. Of course, he wouldn’t actually hurt Katniss. But perhaps that could’ve also been a plus to this arrangement- he wouldn’t have to.

Every second that they showed on screen, your eyes were glued to it. Being gathered in the square to watch the beginnings of the Hunger Games, the countdown and the bloodbath. You were watching from home- one of the rare times they actually supplied electricity to everyone’s homes- way into the night, until he had fallen asleep on the television. Even then you were scared to close your own eyes, afraid of something happening to him during the night. But then the Capitol shut off the show and bid their own city citizens a good night. Only when there was nothing left to watch from the broadcast did you finally fall over on your couch and let your eyes fall closed.

You awoke to a sound blaring from the television, the jingle of Caesar’s show just before he went live. He began a recap of what had happened the night before, with colourful commentary of course. You kept an eye on the screen but didn’t see anything that should give you pause. You watched the death countdown at the end and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

So this was how your days went. You still needed to eat though, and drink and sleep. You worked your paltry job, and always stopped by the Mellarks on the way home. They knew you well, of course. This was hitting them hard, but they still had two other sons. The Mellark father always looked at you with pity though, as if you had no one else left. He wasn’t too far off. He gave you an entire loaf of bread every day that you had stopped by, and one time you finally heard the matriarch in the back of the shop.

“District twelve might finally have a winner.”

With the pitiful look Peeta’s father shot you, and the sour look of one of his brothers as he stormed out, this seemed to be a reoccurrence. And it seemed she wasn’t speaking of her own son.

You were especially fragile that day anyway, as that was the day that Peeta had been injured and camouflaged himself into the riverbed. He wasn’t dead, though. He wasn’t dead. You kept repeating that to yourself as you walked home, pinching small bites off of the whole loaf and force-feeding yourself. It still tasted like ash in your mouth.

And while all of that may have been a bad dream, this was the waking nightmare.

They had announced that two winners may be crowned so long as they were from the same district. You both loved and hated that announcement, really curious whether they would hold up their end of the bargain. Finally, someone to save Peeta! Katniss had immediately called out his name and started running, and you felt your own pulse spike as hers surely was.

Everything else had happened so quickly you couldn’t spare a thought for it. Until now. As Katniss straightened up from over Peeta, you bit your lip hard. No, there was no way that this was happening. There was no way that Peeta was looking up at the woman he’d never known his whole life as if she was his world. There was no way-

“Katniss, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything now, Peeta. I know you probably don’t return my feelings-”

“I do,” He interrupted quickly, and you bit your lip harder, tears coming to your eyes from more than just physical pain. “My love for you is like the sun.”

You had turned the tv off then. Its silence had been so staggering, so different from the way you had been living with constant noise assaulting your senses. You didn’t know how long you sat there before eventually letting yourself fall onto your side, closing your eyes and letting the day pass you by.

You continued your usual routine the next day, with an added look from Peeta’s father. It was like he was confused about something- probably why you bothered to keep on trying. Peeta had been rather convincing, after all. Even you believed it. He wouldn’t have said those words if he hadn’t actually meant them. Mr Mellark still gave you a loaf of bread, and the warmth from the food finally sunk into your hands. That’s when she walked out.

“Why are you still giving away precious food to this ingrate?” She had slapped the loaf from your hands, and the cold that seeped back into you felt familiar. “Obviously if she manages to save our son, he won’t be wasting time on this one anymore. Neither should we.”

You left without any fuss and finally turned the tv back on once you arrived home. It took a few hours to finally get a recap of what you had missed during your tantrum, but only a few minutes to realize, thankfully, that Peeta was still alive. No matter how shattered your heart was, he still needed to live. Because if he could live, and live happily with her, then that would be enough.

The games must’ve been going on too long, as the Capitol suddenly sped things up. The final showdown was beginning, and Peeta and Katniss were still both very much alive. You watched in a detached sort of happiness as your district finally won the Hunger Games. Then the announcement happened. Only one victor left standing.

“Kill her, Peeta.”

You would’ve been surprised at the words coming out of your mouth from any other instance. However, this was the Hunger Games. This was Peeta, and this was the woman he had said those words to. You kept mumbling to yourself, begging him to do something as he turned fearful eyes onto her. You knew that if it was yourself inside that arena, he would’ve already been doing whatever he could to make sure you survived. This means that he was likely thinking the same thing now, too. He was trying to find some way to kill himself so Katniss wouldn’t have to.

“Just trust me. If they won’t allow two victors, we won’t give them one.” Katniss had poured those damned berries into his hands, then locked eyes with him and began a countdown. You felt your heart sink with every number she spoke, finally letting your eyes fall closed. You didn’t want to watch his destruction at the hands of the one he loved. You couldn’t bear the thought.

“STOP! Stop!” You opened your eyes, watching both Peeta and Katniss raise their eyes to the sky. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present your victors of the 74th Hunger Games!”

While you knew this meant nothing for your own future, you had cried. You couldn’t find it in yourself to figure out whether the tears were of happiness for Peeta’s survival, or mourning a life that once was. You had finally cried, and let yourself feel all of those burdening emotions, too many of them to handle.

You continued on with your life from there. You worked your useless job, you stopped visiting Peeta’s family, and you came home just to eat bland foods and sleep. You weren’t sure what kind of life this was, whether existing just for the sake of it was worth all the trouble, but you knew that nothing could really get worse, so that meant it could only get better, right?

You hadn’t paid any attention to the days after he survived. You didn’t try to make it to the train station to meet him, you didn’t bother stopping by his old home to see if he visited his family, and you didn’t try to fight your way into Victor’s Square to see him finally. You didn’t even really know when he arrived back in twelve, just that he had at some point. You had even seen Katniss eventually, moving with determination through the district toward her family home. You had averted your gaze immediately, not ready to deal with that trauma.

It was a few days later, late in the evening after work, when you finally heard a knock on your door. It wasn’t common to get visitors, and any that were common didn’t tend to knock. You had frozen at your kitchen sink, in the process of drying your hands after washing what few meagre dishes you owned. Slowly, mechanically, you finished drying off your hands and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of your generic outfit. You took your time walking over to your door, then took a deep breath before opening it.

There he stood, Peeta Mellark. Winner of the 74th Hunger Games, and one-half of the Star-Crossed Lovers. No matter how often you tried to prepare yourself for this moment, nothing helped. Because he was there, in person, so close that you could reach out and touch him. Nothing could prepare you for seeing Peeta and not letting yourself bask in his warmth.

The smile that crossed his face, however, took your breath away. It may have also been the cause of the few tears that escaped your eyes, falling slowly down your cheek. He had been in the middle of saying your name when he noticed them, his smile slowly falling away to an expression of confusion.

“Why haven’t I seen you since I got back?” He asked this as if it was obvious, as if you should’ve been waiting for him. “My father says you stopped coming by sometime toward the end of the games? I was worried something had happened to you.” He says this as if he should care and it burns your chest hotter than any feeling of depression had up to this point.

“Why should I bother?” You had never heard your voice like this, so void of emotion. Peeta hadn’t either, clearly, for the gobsmacked look on his face. “I figured you’d be plenty happy with your new lover.”

“Lover?” His voice was incredulous, and he immediately shook his head before quickly looking over his shoulder. “Can we take this inside?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Don’t you think they might see?” ‘Don’t you think she might see?’

“That’s why we should just-” He huffed, gently placing a hand on your hip and pushing you inside. His touch sent enough of a shock to your system that you obliged, pulling back before taking another few steps backwards. Breathing room, that’s what you needed. You watched him close the door behind him, lock it with your flimsy excuse of a lock, and pull the curtains closed on the front-facing window. “They can’t see the truth.”

“The truth?” You mumbled, crossing your arms and holding them against your chest. Everything felt off-kilter, being in the same room as Peeta and running from his touch. None of this felt right. “I saw the truth clear enough.”

“What are you even talking about?” Peeta took a step toward you finally, and you matched his step backwards. He looked more worried than you had ever seen him, even inside the arena when he should’ve been worrying about his own safety. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“Why bother fixing things with me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes any longer, not without wanting to throw yourself at the man. But he’s in love with someone else, you had to keep reminding yourself that. “She’s right there now, she lives right across from you. If you didn’t already move into the same house.” The thought, while not entering your head before now, suddenly lived in your brain. That’s all you could see in your mind’s eye, Peeta and Katniss being homely together. You felt physically ill, rubbing your face with your hands as if trying to brush the thought away.

“What?”

“Katniss!” You had finally raised your voice, finally included any sort of emotion in it. It really looks like you weren’t leaving this unscathed. “Go find your new lover, stop wasting your time on me!”

“No,” His voice was quiet, his head shaking ever so slightly back and forth. “I thought if anyone could see through it all, it would’ve been you.”

“See through it?”

“Yeah, see through the ruse.”

“I thought I could too!” You yelled, holding yourself back from a growl. Your arms were thrown on either side of you and you watched Peeta’s hands curl up into a ball. “I thought everything was a ruse- how long, Peeta? How long until it went from something you were acting at to something you were really feeling?”

“Never!”

“Don’t lie to me Peeta!” You choked back a sob, raising a hand to your mouth quickly. Peeta’s expression turned from one of confusion and anger to one of desperation at the sound, taking another step forward. You took another step back. “I heard what you said.”

“What?”

“I heard what you said!” You obligingly repeated what you had originally mumbled, though you didn’t believe for a second that he hadn’t heard you. “What you said to her.”

“Wait-”

“I heard it Peeta, don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t-”

“Stop trying to fight this! I heard what you said, I know you love her!”

“I was saying it to you!”

You had never heard Peeta raise his voice so loud. You felt frozen in your spot, breath coming in pants and yet the silence that followed could’ve put a funeral to shame. You watched the shame flow through Peeta, he had never wanted to raise his voice after his past with his family. But he quickly shook off the shock, taking a step forward towards you, and another when you finally didn’t back away. He repeated himself softer, “I was saying it to you.”

“No, you were looking at her.”

“I was looking through her.” Peeta shook his head, looking down. “I would’ve never said it if I knew it caused you such pain.”

“What are you talking about, Peeta?”

“I had to say it.” He took another step closer, shortening the distance between you in the small house surrounding you both. “Don’t you see? I had to say something, I had to play along with the ruse.”

“I can’t handle this,” You mumble, mostly to yourself. This was getting dangerously close to territory that you feared you’d never be able to step into again. If you were forced to leave him again after this small chance of having him back, it would ruin you.

“Please, please,” Peeta took another step closer and finally reached over to take your hand. You numbly let him. “I didn’t want to. They started it in the train on the way to the Capitol, so damned early. Haymitch said if we played the role of lovers we’d get more sponsors. I refused, Katniss refused. That had seemed like the end of it.”

“The role of…?”

“Then they brought it back up during the last interview before the games. Told me to spring it on the audience, and they asked Caesar to ask if I had anyone back home. Told me to say that I didn’t, that the one I loved followed me to the Capitol. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t lie like that. I wouldn’t have been believable.” He reached forward to take your other hand, and you finally realized you were staring into his bright blue eyes.

“When they made the announcement, Katniss came to find me. I was in bad shape, but I was surviving. I was surviving for you because you told me not to give up. Because I couldn’t just leave you behind with nothing, with no one else.

“She took me to that cave, and when she leaned over to kiss my cheek she whispered to me. She said ‘This is your only chance,’ as if I didn’t have any choice. And honestly- she was right.”

You thought back to how the wound had looked, how it pulsed blood and how you felt like your own heart was pulsing out along with it. You didn’t remember anything after that until you had eventually turned the tv back on. Peeta had recovered, somehow.

“We played the lovers act to get sponsors. We played the lovers act to win. Please, you have to know,” Peeta took another step closer to you, bringing you two chest to chest. “I wasn’t going to eat the berries. I was scared when they announced there would be only one winner because I would have to fight her, and she was strong. She had already proven it. But when she concocted that stupid plan, I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t willing to die for whatever stupid point she wanted to prove to the Capitol. I was going to watch her swallow those berries, and then spit mine out. I was going to win, for you.”

“Peeta,” Your voice was breathless, but he had finally fallen quiet. He looked so pained, and you took your hand from one of his to raise it to his cheek, letting your thumb drag across his cheekbone. “Is this real? I can’t-” You choke back a sob, feeling the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t lose you again.”

“I said those words for you,” Peeta repeated softly, letting his head fall forward to rest against your forehead. “It was a message. I was trying to tell you I still loved you.”

“I heard it wrong,” You mumbled incredulously, huffing out a laugh, “This whole time, I heard it wrong.”

“My love for you is like the sun,” He repeats, closing his eyes, “Always shining, and always there.”

You tipped forward quickly and slotted your mouth with his, and he finally released your hand to place on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You were so scared to never get this again, and yet it felt so familiar to you regardless. Peeta moaned low in his throat, attempting to pull you closer, and you finally wrapped your arms around him. It was at this moment you knew, Peeta was finally home.

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Stars Around My Scars: Part I

Summary: Y/N and Harry meet by chance on the street and Harry just so happens to be Y/N's longtime crush. Sparks fly between the two but there's just one problem... Harry has a girlfriend. Featuring our favourite 1D boys and soft Harry <3

Word Count: >1k (super short to set up the story) Warnings: none

Based off this ask

"Liam you forgot the candles!” 

“They weren’t on the list Y/N.”

“But it’s a PARTY, of course we need candles?!”  Y/N rolls her eyes at her roommate who sits unbothered on the couch, stuck in the latest round of whatever new game he had bought.

 “They. Weren’t. On. The. List.”

 “Ok. Fine.” Y/N sucks in a deep breath before grabbing her keys. “I’ll go get them. You’re lucky we still have time before the party tomorrow.” 

Liam groans in response and Y/N rolls her eyes again before heading to the store. Party planning is not for the weak. She isn’t quite sure why she’s taken on such a large responsibility especially because it’s Niall’s 30th so she can’t mess it up. But he’s one of her best friends so obviously she had to throw him a party. And then her idea of a small gathering spiralled out of control and now it’s a surprise party with over 100 guests. It’s not like Liam and Louis have been much help because well… Liam would rather be doing anything else than helping her plan the decor and Louis can’t keep a secret to save his life so he doesn’t even know about the party. Y/N has over a million things to prepare before tomorrow and getting these candles was definitely not on her to do list for the day. 

She rushes out of her car and into the party store, grabbing the first packet she sees, pays for them and rushes back out to her car. However in her rush, (and due to the fact that she was looking at her phone) she slams into someone. Hard. Said someone grunts softly at the impact before reaching out a hand to steady her.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going, I didn’t mean to- holy shit.” 

“No worries love. You alright?” The man in front of her smiles, making sure she’s regained her footing before gently letting go of her. 

“Oh I’m fine… it’s just. Well. You’re Harry Styles.” Y/N can hardly believe her eyes. Her first thought is that his eyes are even greener in person. Her second thought is that he’s even more attractive in person and that’s saying something because he was pretty damn good looking in his pictures. And in the posters Y/N used to have (still has) on her wall. 

“That would be me. You look really familiar love. Have we met?” His voice is low and slightly raspy and it sends a flurry of butterflies to Y/N’s core. 

“Um well no. But I’m Liam’s roommate so maybe you might have seen a picture of me on his instagram or something? It’s really lovely to meet you. You’re… taller than I imagined.” Y/N wants to die. It’s like she’s forgotten how words work all of a sudden because her childhood crush is standing right in front of her and he’s smiling at her like that and Y/N doesn’t really remember how to breathe either. 

“You’ve imagined?” He sends a smirk her way and Y/N’s knees almost give out. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She blushes and Harry chuckles at how flustered she is. 

“Well anyway, it’s nice to properly meet you… I’m so sorry love, I don’t remember your name.” He winces as if it’s something he should have committed to memory. 

“Oh. It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N! That’s right. Pretty name.” He tests it on his tongue and she shivers slightly. Y/N decides she only wants Harry to say her name from now on. It certainly sounds pretty coming off his lips. 

“The boys mentioned you were living in LA? What brings you to London? Just visiting or…?” 

“I’ve moved back actually. I bought a new place and my uh girlfriend and I just moved in a few days ago.” He runs a hand through his hair and Y/N can’t place the slightly sheepish expression on his face. Girlfriend. Of course he has a girlfriend. He’s Harry fucking Styles. She’s probably a model, Y/N thinks to herself. Blonde, skinny, legs for days. 

“Oh that’s… wow. I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to catch up with you. I’ll have to let them know I saw you.” Y/N offers him a weak smile. She isn’t exactly sure what she was hoping for. For him to fall in love with her on the street and whisk her off to his apartment to have his way with her? Actually that’s exactly what she was hoping for. 

“I’m throwing Niall a surprise birthday party.” She blurts out, filling the silence. 

“Oh really? It’s his 30th yeah?” 

“Yeah it is. You should come. If you like. No pressure. You could bring your girlfriend?” 

“Sure we’d love to. It’ll be nice to see the guys again.” Harry perks up at the invitation. 

“I’ll get your number off Liam and text you the details if that’s ok?” 

“Nah, I’ll give it to you now. I’ll surprise all of them by showing up.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. He rattles off his number and Y/N quickly enters it into her phone before sending him a text so he has her number too. They say their goodbyes and Y/N finally makes it to her car, sitting in silence in slight disbelief as to what just happened. She’s staring, slightly dazed out of the window when her phone buzzes.

 (1:05pm) Harry: Send me the details! Lovely to meet you :) 

Harry Styles is texting her. 15 year old Y/N would have passed out by now and current Y/N isn’t really sure she’s got function in her limbs.

A/N: This is something just to tide you guys over until I can get part 2 of obsession out!! My laptop died on me so it's taking me a bit longer I'm afraid. BUT I adore you all for loving that series so much, and I hope you enjoy the start of this 😘

If I haven't added you to my tag list because I've missed your message or forgotten, please message me or comment! Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated xo

Tags:

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[sodamnradd]

Hermione Granger was going to die on his operating table.

Fuck.

Draco paced the room and tried to ignore the ghostly girl lying unconscious a few feet away.

Potter was the only person keeping Draco here and, if Granger died under his care, it was all over. The Order would blame him for her death.

“What am I meant to do with you now?” he mumbled, glaring at his patient.

He touched Granger’s pulse and felt it fading. Her skin was cold and clammy. Even her hair seemed deflated, giving up the good fight.

There was no other way.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, feeling a flash of remorse for the fate he was bestowing on her. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall in love with me.”

--

The Order promoted Draco to main headquarters. He had his own room and went to bed with a full stomach every night. Sometimes, there was even beer.

But Draco would have slept in moth infested sheets again and eaten stale cereal for dinner every night if it meant staying away from her.

After her miraculous recovery, Granger visited him in the medical wing. Often.

The first time to thank him for saving her life. The second to borrow a book she spotted on his desk, swapping it for one of her own. The third to return his book and tell him about all the ways it had pissed her off. Before he knew it, she’d cajoled Draco into a war-time book club, reading all the books Granger bartered off other Order members.

She started confiding in him about odd things that were happening to her.

“It’s not my problem,” he cut her off, popping open his collar as the room grew three notches too hot.

“But you’re my healer.”

“I’m not your healer. I’m just a healer. A reluctant one. Your idiot friends won’t let me do much else.”

“Help me find out what’s wrong with me, and I’ll have them reassign you.”

“No.”

She was insufferably stubborn.

“See how I did that?” she asked one afternoon, squashing a fly with her palm and resuscitating it seconds later. “That’s odd.”

“That’s magic.” He feigned disinterest, swatting the irritating fly. “Couldn’t you have let it die?” Sometimes Draco wished he had.

“It’s like holding sand in my hands. I have a handful of seconds to decide whether to preserve its life or let it trickle out—Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m counting inventory.”

“Stuff your blasted inventory. This is serious!”

He made her concerns seem trivial, shooing her off and demanding she mind his office hours.

Yet she always came back, always wanted to hear his expert opinion on why Dark Magic was so easy now, why she was quicker than Harry at casting off Dementors, why she didn’t need her wand to perform magic anymore.

One evening she visited him, devastated. “Tell me why I can’t stand letting anyone touch me.”

Red mist filled Draco’s vision, noting her rumpled figure. The state of Granger’s hair was an old joke by now, but he could tell someone’s fingers had been raking through it. Her shirt was misbuttoned. She looked messy and fierce and unbearably debauched.

“It certainly looks like someone tried,” he mumbled, trying to choke down the emotion that rocked through his chest.

“Tell me, Malfoy.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Because you’re all I think about!” she exploded. Her face went crimson.

She cleared her throat. “I know my own body. You did something to me that night, didn’t you? When I was injured.”

She stormed forwards, poking him in the chest. “What did you do?”

He snatched her fingers in his fist. It was like he was pure whisky, and she an Incendio spell, set astray. “Fuck.” He dropped her hand at once.

Granger leapt away too, gasping. “Did that just…?”

“You almost died,” he said, physically restraining himself from reaching for her again. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Malfoy?” Her voice was little more than a croak, her eyes too wide and innocent. Looking at him like-like—

He had to look away. “I split my magical core and gave you half.”

“Like a Horcrux?”

“It wasn’t my soul. But magic is binding in its own way.”

“What do you mean binding?”

“As in, you can tap into it now. It’s yours.”

“So I have my own magic and half of yours?”

He shrugged.

Granger’s mouth fell agape. “How do I return it to you?”

“It’s irrevocable.”

Realisation dawned on her face. “So, all of this,” she wagged a finger between them, “is because of your spell?”

“There’s no ‘this’.” He repeated the gesture. “It’s you and it’s me. Separate.”

She shook her head. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not—”

“You looked like you wanted to commit murder when I walked in just then.”

He shifted his gaze, jaw clenching. “My magic recognizes itself in you. It’s… possessive.”

“And mine recognizes you,” she concluded. “It doesn’t like me being with anyone else. You knew this would happen?”

“Should I have let you die instead?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and Draco tried not to wince. “Is this it, then? We’re bound to each other for the rest of our lives?”

He couldn’t stand looking at her anymore. Remorsefully, he replied, “This is it.”

(883 words, prompt: soulmates from @dhrmonth)

[thesweetnessofspring]

Between the time the books Catching Fire and Mockingjay were released, it was a pretty common topic of discussion wondering what one word Peeta said to Katniss after she asked him to stay with her. "Always" was a very popular answer people gave, though I remember at the time just revolting at the idea because "always" had been tainted by Severus Snape and his creepy obsession with Lily Potter.

But the thing was...none of the other suggestions seemed to work (I even wrote this scene from Peeta's POV and used "course" as in "of course" but even that...didn't land quite right). Yet it honestly took me years to accept "always" as Peeta's response to this question because Harry Potter fans consistently linked it to Snape and even got tattoos of it. At the time it felt like THG and Peeta would never be able to compete with HP's popularity. But I've come around and seen that "always" is the only response Peeta could have given and to separate it from Snape.

How can Peeta say it to Katniss, even while she'd just before claimed to have chosen Gale, and have it come off sweet and caring but it's creepy for Severus Snape to say about Lily, who had chosen James?

There's the obvious fact that Snape called Lily a slur and joined an organization set on killing people like her while Peeta's never did anything like that toward Katniss while he was in his right mind, but it's not just that. And it's not that Snape's descriptions are less than flattering while Peeta comes across as handsome and charming. And it's not even that Lily didn't choose Snape while Katniss did choose Peeta.

It's that Peeta's devotion to Katniss is unconditional, while Snape's were conditional up until Lily's death when at that point she became Snape's memory rather than someone who could act and speak for herself. Really, Severus, where was "always" when you called her a slur, when you were serving Voldemort, when you were groveling to Dumbledore to save Lily but let James and Harry die, when you were abusing children as a teacher? Is that really "always"?

Whereas Peeta, well, first when he was hurt about Katniss not being sure of her feelings toward him and acted wounded, he properly apologized for it and then never did it again. He knew Katniss would want to bring Gale if they ran away and never guilted her about it. He came in to defend Gale when he was whipped. He saved Katniss when Peacekeepers came to question her. He got them ready for the Quell and protected her with the baby bomb. He was willing to give up his life so she could have the life he assumed she wanted (or would eventually want) with Gale, Prim, and her mother. And in the Capitol as a prisoner, he made what deals he could to protect her and fought through his hijacking to warn her about the plans to bomb 13 and endured more torture because of what he did.

Of course, then the hijacking happens. He tries to kill her. He insults her. We can see how Peeta was hurt and confused and resentful of Katniss's treatment of him, even what she admitted to and not just what the Capitol put in his head. It seems like "always" could actually have an end.

But that's the thing. It doesn't. In the middle of war during a battle when his fight response was compelling him to act and kill on his conditioning, not only did he resist his hijacking, he came back to Katniss when she reached out and asked him to stay with her. He reaffirmed his promise. Always.

And he follows that up by continuing to protect her during the rest of the war, when she almost took her nightlock pill, and as soon as he was released from his treatment went to comfort her and help her heal from her sister's death. And as we see from the epilogue, he did stay with her, from the nightmares and bad days to the difficult pregnancies and the days in between. He stayed with her: the real Katniss, not a ghost or fantasized ideal.

And that's why Peeta could only respond with always. And that's why always belongs to Peeta Mellark. Because he actually meant it.

[foxalade]

"never did see one without the other, did you?"

SOBBING.

Sirius and James are just so idk how to explain it?? I can't BELIEVE Sirius went to Prison because he was framed for killing his BEST FRIEND. HIS SAVIOUR. Literally his platonic soul mate. I can't believe so many people knew them and didn't even bat an eye when he was put in Azkaban.

The fact that people were just like "How could he?" and then moved on with their lives, while Remus was distraught at losing ALL of his best friends in one single night.

HE FOUND HIS BEST FRIEND DEAD. I'm sorry but if I found my best friend dead in her house I'd die, HOW TRAUMATISING IS THAT?? Imagine going to check up on them and finding their house in pieces, and then finding them dead. His best friend. His family. HIS BEST FRIENDS WIFE. THEIR SON??? THEIR ONE YEAR OLD SON.

You know what's worse?

They probably had Sirius' Birthday all planned out. James and Lily were murdered on the 31st of October, 3 days before Sirius' Birthday on the 3rd of November. They would most likely all have bought and wrapped present, perhaps even booked a table at a restaurant or maybe concert tickets or whatever.

But they never went. Never got to do anything. Sirius spent his 22nd birthday locked up in Azkaban while James was dead and Remus was distraught and Peter was hiding.

Harry was taken away and treated like shit. James and Lily's one year old, ONE YEAR OLD, was left orphaned, with no idea about his parents or his parents friends. He could have had a life with Sirius, but that was taken away from him.

Imagine meeting a wanted Murderer, and he goes on to tell you that he loved your father and that he saved him. Saved him from years of torture and abuse in his own household and let him stay somewhere safe. And then got FRAMED by their other best mate for his MURDER which he spent 12 YEARS in prison for.

Even when Harry did move in with Sirius during his fifth year, he didn't have very long with his father's best friend either.

Sirius died protecting the last piece of James he still had. After all of those years, Sirius still loved James, loved him so much that he died to protect his son.

"Nice one, James!"

HE DIED THINKING OF HIS BEST FRIEND. HE WAS THINKING OF JAMES IN HIS LAST MOMENTS ON EARTH. Not Harry, not himself, not Remus. JAMES.

Idc if someone thinks "It's so wrong that Sirius only saw James in Harry, and Harry only saw James in Sirius"

Okay, and? That was all they had left. Sirius was the closest thing to his dad, let the poor boy have that small piece of his life. And Sirius loved James. He said himself that he would rather have died than betray James.

And he would have too. If Sirius had been there when Peter and Voldy showed up, he would have told James and Lily to run and sacrificed himself so they could live a life full of love and raise their son.

James was Sirius' only family. Sirius had nothing without him. NOTHING. "Oh but what about Remus?" I love Remus, don't get me wrong, but Remus would never be able to live up to what James was for him. That boy saved him.

I hate it when people come after James. How could you say he was a horrible person when he literally took Sirius in. HE SAVED HIM.

And I just realised that Sirius didn't get to go to James' funeral. He never said goodbye.

Ladies and Gentlemen and everyone else, thank you and good night

(it's not a good night and never will be a good night because James died and Sirius was locked up for it. HIS BEST FRIEND.)

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

“Passed Alger Brook Road, I'm over the bridge.”

Remus never thought he’d be sitting on this train once more. In this moment, he’s 14 again. The hills roll by and if he closes his eyes, imagines just hard enough, he can still hear the clamouring and giggling that used to belong here. The train is empty, save for Remus, a special trip just for him. In the worst way, this is all too familiar. Like the trunk remembers the axe, Remus can’t help but feel he is gently travelling towards a terrible thing.

“A minute from home but I feel so far from it.”

Remus had lived in London for so long that the Welsh had been bleached out of his accent. Hope and Lyall were long gone, finally resting. And Remus was alone. Home had always been where his heart had lived. Never Wales though, never a place, always a person. Cariad. Cariad. Cariad. With every beat of his heart, Remus knows where home is. He thinks of James and Lily and Harry. He thinks of a home that once belonged to them.

“The death of my dog, the stretch of my skin.”

He thinks of a home that belongs to him, of a basement with a torn up mattress and a master bedroom with a leather jacket hanging on the back of the chair. Remus could never understand how people could one day lock a door and never open it again. Until he did. Slowly, the cottage grew to be too much, bore a weight so goddamn heavy that Remus shouldered it all. That house held the three people he loved, “love” his mind corrects him. He wonders whether in 11 years of solitude, that house too, would be reluctant to see him again.

“It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again.”

In a way, only Remus could understand why James and Lily had to die. Unfortunately, there is always a greater good. There is always someone, ‘something’ his mind hisses, greater than him. The rage is dormant now. The war is over. Remus knows loss incredibly well, walks hand in hand with her most days. Instinctively, he tightens his grip on his thigh. It serves as a reminder. You survived the war. You lost everyone you love. You are real. You are neither punished nor the punisher. Not anymore.

“The things that I lost here, the people I knew.”

Remus takes a walk along the length of the train. Nostalgia’s sake and all that. The open compartment doors rattle gently and the seats are vacant. For some reason, Remus half expected to run into a brick wall at King’s Cross. He doesn’t know how to exist in this space again, how to walk the halls of the castle without feeling like a ghost instead. Mostly, Remus doesn’t know how he could look into James’ faces and Lily’s eyes again, and see them on someone else.

“They got me surrounded for a mile or two.”

Logically, he knows “No.” is as good an answer as any. He made sure that there were no more favours, no more secrets. Remus knows that from 11, the castle cared for him. He also knows that care and respect go hand in hand. He has no debt to the castle but he does have duty to fulfil. For every man who obeys his duty, there is another who cannot. A prison cell briefly flashes in his mind, then a cupboard under stairs, then a set of silver handcuffs.

“The car's in reverse, I'm grippin' the wheel.”

The train shudders and stops. The sky is dark. Remus’ eyes are closed. He inhales deeply and lets muscle memory take over. His steps now echo down the empty train carriages. He is just as tall as the last time he stood here. This time, he leaves behind four giggling boys. He leaves behind the weight of a head in his lap. The image is superimposed into his eyelids. Remus hopes that everything that ever existed still exists in moments, even though we don’t get them back. The doors slide open and he steps onto the platform.

“I'm back between villages and everything's still.”

For the second time in his life, Remus John Lupin has the sudden and crashing realisation that he is totally and utterly alone.

[zwolfgames]

Yandere Draco Malfoy x reader (Part 2)

Requested by: /

Warnings: Slight forced friendship

part one here: Part 1 , Part 3

It's been a week since the accident.

The hallway had been closed of for a few days to investigate but after finding nothing aching to magic traces, they re-opened it so that whatever poor sucker walks in next could aslo get a chandelier on their head!

But thats besides the point. Draco hadn't stopped writing notes to his father, each one more urgent as he didn't want to genuinly die at Hogwarts. Wich you found reasonable, you weren't that invested into the student life either.

Obviously Harry Potter and his gang had to investigate behind the teachers' backs. because 'Oh it could have been Voldemort trying to distract Harry!'. You'd like to tell Potter to wake up and show him that not everythings about him, but essentially it is, so you'd just shut up.

After about two weeks, Draco had promtly decided that because you saved his ass, you two were now friends.

Not an arrangement you agreed with, as the biy just wouldn't leave you alone! Or worse, he'd scare your other friends away!

"C'mon Y/N. You can't be friends with such.. lowly people... I'm better for you in every possible way." Draco boasted after he had glared at the girl you were talking too. You were littarly only talking about homework and he still intervened.

"Malfoy, I am one of those." You dead panned and looked at him in annoyance.

"I told you to call me Draco." He glares slightly. You're unfazed by his nasty snarls by now.

"Yea, I know. i'm just ignoring your requests." You shrugged and simply walked on to class. The blonde followed suit tugging you back by your robes' hood so you'd be next to him.

You simply rolled your eyes, slowing your pace so he wouldn't tug at you again like the attention seeker he is.

Luckily, he didn't share this class with you, so he had to pout and walk off when you arrived at your door.

Sure it was nice that he wasn't an asshole anymore, atleas tto you... But the constant intrusion of your day was getting annoying. You had friends, you had a life and he wasn't able to just worm himself in, no he wanted all of your time and it showed.

Who could have tought someone would go that deep with trauma bonding...

And then, for absolute no reason, it happened again. You were walking in the halls, too secluded for your liking.

Draco was chatting your ear off about potions and how everyone else does it worse then you two.... he doesn't even let you do anything... so at this point he's just boasting about his own skills.

But a quick flash of red alerts you as it pelt straight at Draco's face. You tug him towards you in a quick motion, the fired spell blasts against the wall and ignites a fire.

A flash of a silhoutte speeds away from the other end of the hall and before you know it you're speeding after them.

Draco shouts for you to stop but catching who-ever almost killed the blonde twice was way more important.

Your robes ruffles due to your fast sprint. You keep catching glances of this person fleeng behind corners. Finally, you think you've managed to catch them in a dead end!

But no, this sumb castle has to play favourites with the attempted murderers and open the wall just to troll you.

You bang your fist on the wall in anger as you failed to catch the mystery person.

After a few minutes Draco comes running up behind you, visibly exhausted.

"It's a student." You huff with a cold look.

"A student? Trying to kill me? Don't they know who my father-"

"They do. Why do you think they want you dead? Either they hate you or they hate your dad." You scoff and pat your robes back down.

"Well if I'm being targeted then so are you. We come as a pair." Draco announces proudly.

"We don't. Who said that?" You frown in distaste.

"I decided it." Draco smirks and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

Expensive cologne penetrates your sense of smell.

"If thats so then I think it's better we part ways so I'm no longer a target." You shake your head. Draco visibly stiffens and his eyes darken slightly.

"Not happening. I need you close to keep you safe." He explains as if even a single word of that was true.

"... Draco, I'm the one keeping you safe." You scowl and the blonde bites his lip.

"You're scared..." You narrow your eyes, voice now a whisper.

Draco looks offended and doesn't say anything back, thats more then enough of an answer for you.

"Fine. I'll stick around." You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

"Good." Draco simply smirks and lowers his arm to your waist.

"You'll be staying in my dorm then, to keep me safe." He smiles smugly. You deadpann at the idea alone. One, that would never be approved, and two, no thanks.

"Not happening." You shake your head again. (h/c) hair swaying in the motion.

"I'll make it happen." Draco's expression tightens as he walks away from the wall with you in his hold.

You're starting to get creeped out by both the mystery person and your... friend.

And just like he said, it would happen, it did.

You don't know how he convinced Snape and your house's teacher to make this move happen, but it did. He must have paid them off... there's no other way.

So here you were, being glared at by other Slytherins as you moved your trunk to Draco's dorm.

Where did he throw his other roomates? Not a clue. 

Was this even safer for both of you? Especially for you?

You gulp as Draco opens the door for you. He seems too overjoyed at this move.

You drop your trunk by one of the beds, a bit weirded out by the absolute lack if windows in the Slytherin dungeon. What's wrong with sunlight, huh?

Ans just like that, you've found yourself a new roomate....

Couldn't get it done in two parts either, but It's gonna be one chpater on Wattpad instead of in parts like its here so it doens't matter.

taglist: @maggiecc

[hauntedwitch04]

HALLOWEEN PARTY

Hi and welcome for the second edition of my halloween party. The first one was very liked, so I thought of making a new one this year. Hope you enjoy it.

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

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DAY 1: “Take my sweater, I love you and i don’t want you to transform into a popsicle” with Remus Lupin 

DAY 2: “You really did this for me?” "I made one for every single person I love, but your is the one I did first because you were the first I thought about." with Steve Harrington 

DAY 3: “Please kill that fucking spider” “Love, you know it’s fake right?” with Cassian 

DAY 4: “Eat some more soup, it will make you feel better. This is my James mother’s recipe.” “Fuck, love this is delicious.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 5: “I don’t need paradise, mine is right here with you, cooking a pie while you dance and sing an old rock song, dreaming about our future” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 6: “I got some leaves on my way here for you, they are really pretty” with Andrew Garfield 

DAY 7: “Love I swear if you light another candle our house may go on fire.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 8: “I have a skeleton in my closet.” “Everyone have them, love.” “No I mean literally” with James Potter 

DAY 9: “Did you really gift me an owl?” “You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift.” with modern!Rhys 

DAY 10:  “Sweety, we are too old to play trick-or-treating.” “That’s a lie, you are never too old for it.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 11: “Look what I got from the shop down the street” “Another coat, seriously?” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 12:  “Your pumpkin is making heart eyes to mine.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 13:  “Oh my God, please save me from this ghost” “Love your Ghostbuster is coming” with Ben Barnes 

DAY 14: “Some friendships are like candles: they burn bright for a while and then they die because of a little wind.” with Azriel 

DAY 15: “There is someone there, you think we have to help him” “It’s a scarecrow” “I think I just had a heartache.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 16: “I love this oil lamp. How did you know it?” “I love you, and I know you, so I know you are into witchy things.” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 17: “Look mommy, a fox. Why are you crying mommy?” “Because it reminds me of your daddy.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 18: “You know we are not in a crime book right.” “Don’t ruin my moment. My time to be Sherlock Holmes has arrived.” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 19: “I’m not gonna watch another fucking horror movie with you” “Don’t worry darling, you have your hero by your side.” “Love, I don’t have to remind you that you are the one screaming the most right?” with Remus Lupin

DAY 20: “We are not gonna bring that black cat home.And don’t even try to make me the puppy eyes, this time won’t work. I’m over your spell witch.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 21: “What are these rocks?” “They are runes stones.” “Babe, since when you are a witch.” with Timothee Chamalet 

DAY 22: “We are not gonna watch Bride Corpse another time.” “You love that movie too, dont’ lie to me moose.” “Love, we already watched it like five times in two days!” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 23: “I never saw someone loving the moon like you do.” “You know what I love most about the moon? It reminds me of you, of your eyes.” with Rhys 

DAY 24: “Why are there three pumpkins? We always make pumpkin, one for you and one for me.” “Well I want to practice since, from next year we are gonna be three.” with Steve Harrington 

DAY 25: “Wow, what is that on your neck? Oh my god, it’s a bite! Did a vampire bite you? Are you going to be like Dracula? Oh my god, oh my God! That’s so cool!” “No man, another animal bit me: my girlfriend.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 26: “You are never gonna touch another drop of alcohol in front of me, you look possessed.” with James Potter

DAY 27: “Tell me a spooky story” “Love, if you don’t sleep another night because I scared you, your mum is gonna kill me.” with Cassian 

DAY 28: “Oh my god, you are bleeding!” “Love calms down, it's fake.” “You are a horrible person.” with Azriel 

DAY 29: “Boo!” “Fuck you” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 30: "Love, why are you crying?” “Neil didn’t deserve it.” “We already talked about this: you can’t watch that movie alone.” “But it’s one of my favorites.” with Remus Lupin

DAY 31: Halloween Party with College AU!Every fandom