#that's all i have to offer (besides merlin stuff) until like the middle of may

[poisonedfate]

Ooh an ask game-- tell me a story about you/your day? Whatever you'd like to share.

-Ash

hi lovely!

my day has been quite uneventful - just a bunch of gif making and exam-prep avoidance, so we'll go with something a little more overall.

i don't know if this counts as fun or a story, but all that's in my head right now is what we've talked about in class recently. a favourite of mine was discussing common myths in media, such as - we only use 10% of our brains or better learning is based on preferred learning styles or hemispheric dominance can be used as an explanation for differences amongst learners.

don't know if it as fun of a fact to others as it is to me, but hey! i hope it's at least a little interesting

ask me stuff

[redrosesartcabin]

Hey peeps. I made yet another Oc for Gunmar to be associated with:

This is Merel Devlin Hecate. She’s a witch in the tales of Arcadia universe who is neither to be associated with Merlin nor Morgana. She’s neither really good nor evil, but still doesn’t hesitate to ask Gunmar to work for her when the time came. How’s she’s gonna do that? Well...

(Ps before you read the story: Since wizards hasn’t come out yet, I may not have written her accurately or some things might not make sense in the future. With that being said, I hope you enjoy my little story)

WARNING: A LOT OF SWEARING AND SOME VIOLENCE IS INVOLVED. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THAT DO NOT READ.

—————————————

Merel Devlin Hecate (Character introduction)

Merel stood before the circle she had drawn on the floor. Usually confident as she was, she tried to put on that very same facade she normally didn’t even have to force. But this time was different.

This wasn’t some quick demon summoning nor a fun little potion: she was bringing a troll back from the dead.

In Merel Devlin Hecate’s 1007 years of life, she had done a lot of questionable shit that got her almost arrested on several occasions by the good side of the wizard society and captured and enslaved by the bad.

She was neither really good nor evil.

She did whatever the fuck she wanted.

Both sides hated that, because whatever Merel planned either interfered with one or the other sides stuff. Or she didn’t participate in whatever war was going on at all and disappeared for a couple of years in a hut in the mountains and only came back when she caught wind that what she considered “Bullshit” had passed. The air clear again to pollute with new chaos she could create.

And she was amazing at it.

Merel had always just been a talented witch. And any witch or wizard that was talented at their craft took it upon themselves to make their own destiny. Be it evil, like Morgana, or good, like Merlin (though if he is as good as he praises himself to be is questionable).

And Merel? Well she decided she was tired of people and help whoever she thought was right at the time. Sometimes she would pop up by Morgana's- and sometimes at Merlin’s “Fanclub”. Both usually took her offer to help, since she brought so much to the table. They however learned throughout the decades and centuries to never fully trust her.

Merel knew they didn’t trust her though and she was fine with that. She knew she would get out of trouble somehow.

Until today.

After 1007 years of life, the time had come where she was unsure about what she was doing, and if it was going to work.

She was going to resurrect a troll. And not just any: Gunmar the black.

Gunmar. The. FUCKING. Black.

One would say she had lost her mind to try out such dark magic.

And what for even?

Well: She got into trouble. But not the usual “oh that one wizard/witch is mad” where she would just put together a little illusion potion to clear her tracks and disappear before anyone could even touch her. She was now officially wanted.

And not in the nice kinda sense.

Merlin figured out, after defeating Morgana, that Merel (apparently) assisted and befriended several changelings, which, indirectly, led to a successful construction of the Killahead bridge. The old man then got really sour over that and declared that she was an official enemy of the wizard state. And since Morgana is supposingly gone (at least for the time being) the wizards that assisted Morgana's cause were also wanted or already captured, so she wouldn’t get support from there either. Not for any money or sleazy trick in the world that she could give.

‘The bastard must’ve waited for a moment like this’, she had thought to herself and felt anger arise in her.

For all the evil shit that Morgana had done, and that Merel would never forgive her for, Morgana would’ve chased her down immediately, if she had been truly mad at her. If she would’ve ever figured out her schemes (which she obviously didn’t, or if she did, she did not much care). Morgana was straightforward; if she was mad at you, she’d let you know right away.

Merlin however, that little motherfucker, made it out to be like she was “so” neutral towards her, like she was towards him. They made deals if needed be and didn’t if there was no need and just didn’t talk at all. But now that little son of a bitch had all the power, he was out for her, chasing her down like a dog ‘cause he had the power now.

At first she didn’t know what to do. The illusions wouldn’t hold them off forever.

But now she had it, the perfect plan. She would resurrect, or rather summon, Gunmar, who would thusly be bound to her. She could control an evil, powerful bastard and scare the living shit out of Merlin AND regain her position as free witch back, whilst also kinda punishing Gunmar for his shit.

It was a perfect plan, but sadly complicated: There was no say if this would actually work.

Nobody had ever resurrected a troll. Except for Morgana of course, who had resurrected Angor Rot countless of times. That however was an entirely different story, since Angor’s soul was bound to a Ring that Morgana had created and could control BEFORE the first time he died.

Gunmars soul was a free one however. He died with his soul in his body, as a being only bound to himself.

But Merel would try to resurrect him from the deepest depth of hell to where he surely had been condemned to, summon him to be bound to her magic and do as she pleased with his being.

It’s what Gunmar deserved.

And it’s what Merlins hypocritical ass deserved.

He and his little, pathetic, servant-like wizard army deserved the biggest scare of all time, because one thing's for sure: Nobody fucks over Merel like that and would get away with it so easily.

She may be no Merlin or Morgana, but unlike them she was free, not bound to a cause or any expectation. There was no limit to what she could and couldn’t do, and she would use that to her advantage.

Merel sat down before the circle. The light of the burning candles illuminating her pale skin in a way that made the scene all the more mysterious looking.

As she sat down, her yellow skirt surrounded her legs in a silky smooth motion and her black, slightly see through crop top with the beautiful rose pattern and frilly sleeves accentuated her upper body perfectly: She felt amazing, even with the fear still eating her insides out.

“I’m ready”, she whispered to herself as she combed her black, long fingernails through her dark blue to dark red ombré, voluminous chin long hair.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before a language, long dead, slipped over her cherry colored lips. A mixture between Latin, Greek and something otherworldly.

The air picked up around her, picking up the candle flames, pulling them higher and creating a fire in the middle of the circle.

She finished her incantation and opened her eyes to the scene. Her hands still in the same position as before, since she still felt the magic being in the works. Any wrong move could break the process.

The fire disappeared in the middle of the summoning circle, forming a swirl that looked much like a portal to another dimension.

Half an hour went by in which nothing more than that happened. The swirl staid a swirl.

“Damn it, it didn’t-“, work she wanted to say, when suddenly she saw blackness appear in the middle of the circle.

“Wait...of course! I have to speak, so the soul can find me”, she realized, “Ey! Gunmar! Come on out motherfucker!”, she yelled.

Another minute passed, but finally, a body came into light. It was a formless thing, like a black thundercloud, bringing strong lighting and a storm. Slowly but surely however, big horns appeared, muscular arms, legs and upper body formed and beautiful carvings glowing in yellow and orange that got carved into him by what seemed like an invisible knife. His back and tail were facing her as he was kneeling towards nothingness before his head shot up and he turned around, finally facing her. His eye was glowing like the candle flames had and his mouth was turning downwards in anger.

She smiled devilishly in delight: It had actually worked.

“Bitch”, he spoke.

“That’s a nice greeting”, she commented and fake pouted as she added, “it’s not very polite to speak to your summoner like that though, after all: I brought you back from the dead or didn’t I?”

“I know who you are, Merel Devlin Hecate: I’d rather stay dead than be bound to you!”, he roared, trying to attack her, but was thrown back into the middle of the circle by the invisible barrier it provided.

“Oh now”, she smooth talked, her voice sounding like a mother trying to pacify her crying child, “don’t get yourself worked up. That can’t be good for a troll your age. Sit down and be happy to be alive again. Besides: I’m sure you’ll like my plan a lot”

“And I’m sure I won’t”, he rumbled

“Well then you’ll just have to live with that”, she now hissed, “you have no choice in this deary. You fucked up and died and now you’ll get this life and no other. You’ll get to feel what it’s like being controlled by something other than yourself like you’ve made so many other trolls feel.

You are full of shit Gunmar. Always have been. I’m sure you’ll cry like a baby by the time I’ve had control over you for more than a day take it worse than any other troll you’ve controlled ever has. You’re nothing more than a piss poor fucker who had some power in his lifetime, but actually you are just so scared of everything, that you need to show to the world, constantly, that you aren’t.”

Gunmar said nothing. He looked angry, yet also confused and at a loss for words. She must’ve hit a soft spot there.

“Nothing snarky to say? Did I hurt the big bad troll? Are you gonna shut the fuck up and just obey my orders and admit your defeat?”, she asked, her voice a little too cocky even for her liking.

“I do not admit defeat, because we did not fight fairly, but I will admit to my captivity.”, he spoke, his voice unusually soft.

“Ok. I can live with that. Now listen:...”, and so she started explaining to him, what her goal of having summoned had been.

“That actually isn’t such a bad plan”, Gunmar admitted and flinched at his own words. What had he become all of a sudden? A dog… that’s what. Not in a millennia would he have thought, that karma would get him like it did now.

“See? And you’ll get to eat some wizard flesh! You may be bound to me, but you are also protected. Nothing can kill you, because you are technically dead. You won’t get no eternal night, but you can get your revenge on Merlins supporters, who are also indirectly the supporters of the trollhunter and therefor his supporters. You get me?”

“I mean, yeah b-“, Gunmar had started countering, but got interrupted by Merel who simply said, “Good! Then we agree on that. Let’s get going, shan’t we?”

“Ah...uhm...Yeah sure”, is all he could say, giving in. Whatever he had wanted to say had slipped his mind and besides: What other choice did he have anyhow?

And so they went for the first kill.

At first Merel wasn’t sure if it would actually be that easy to make Gunmar kill the witch (she was one of the newer understudies of Merlin who took care of filing some script shit in favor of Merlin) she targeted without other wizards seeing him enter, but turns out her illusion magic worked wonders as always and they could slip into the facility and take her out no problem. She wasn’t the most powerful or most important witch she wanted to take out, but that easy? Really?

She did get surrounded by wizards as they found her and Gunmar before the corps.

“Eat her whilst I have a little chat with the gang”, she whispered

“Do not talk to me like-“, but before he could keep talking he felt a kind chain almost strangle him that had appeared around him shooting out of Merels fingertips in n a flaming motion.

“Deary, I can talk to you however I like. I got you in my power. This chain is always there, even if you don’t see it and I can control it at all times. Now behave deary and eat the kill”, she whispered, her voice sweet and sharp and cold.

Gunmar growled at that, but nodded compliantly.

“Very well deary. Eat. You did good.”

And that was the last time he talked back to her. At least like that. He of course staid the snarky asshole he was. She could deal with that though. All she really cared about to show who’s boss.

And just like one, she took the wizards before her out, one by one, only letting on stay conscious choking him, letting him float above her.

“Listen here Milky boy”, she spoke to the young, pale wizard in her grasp, “I have come to say I have managed the worst of the worst: I have resurrected a troll, and not just any: Gunmar the black. He had been shattered and torn, his soul condemned to eternal damnation, but I have summoned him. He is bound to me, my weapon, my killing machine and unless Merlin decides to surrounder, I will make sure, you, boy, and all your pity party fucks who support this poor excuse of a ‘good wizard’ will feel my wrath for coming after me! Now run along young wizard and tell the world Gunmar is back, and I have him in my grasp and no other!”

She let him fall to the ground where he rung for air before running off to wherever to whomever: But just away from her.

“And I always through you’re a part of that ‘pity party’ as you call it”, Gunmar admitted after having cleaned off the bones one by one.

“HA, Me?”, she cackled, “Under the command of Merlin? I didn’t know you were a comic. Now let’s get going before any important wizards get here and cause real trouble for us. We still got a lot to do!”

…

[bazzybelle]

Carry On Countdown - Day Seven

Notes: Right... confession time.. So, I posted this fic yesterday... But, I’ve been having a really difficult mental health week (lots of self-doubt, self-isolation, and weeping) and it all came to a head last night when I spiraled and deleted this story (my depression/anxiety/Imposter Syndrome demon caught up to me, I guess). I was also close to deleting all my other fics and potentially closing my account, but @fight-surrender and my amazing husband talked me down from the ledge so to speak. It was actually their support, along with the amazing kindness of @giishu that convinced me to repost my story... so here it is. 

Lyrics are inspired by “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles. However, I was inspired by the version from “Across The Universe”, sung by T.V. Carpio (Such a great movie and soundtrack). 

Thank you to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for their writing support and amazing beta-reads. 

Also, this is the last story until the Angst prompt... I’m also gonna take it easy with my writing. Going back into it after 8 years of numbness and denying my passion hasn’t been easy and it’s beginning to take its toll on me. I have so many ideas, but I want to feel well enough in my head to be able to write them properly (in case you haven’t noticed, I like writing about healing and hopeful futures... kinda hard to do that if you’re spiraling). I’ve got a few more stories already prepared for the Countdown, but I’m not making any promises on writing for other prompts. 

TW: Extremely minimal (like blink and you’ll miss it) reference to drugs.

Day 7 Prompt: WLW

Title: I Wanna Hold Your Hand

________________________________________________________________

Please, say to me, you’ll let me hold your hand. Now, let me hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand. 

FIONA

The music here is bloody terrible.

So’s the alcohol. But what else can I expect from a dingy little pub in this dodgy area of the city? Besides, it isn’t the alcohol I’m here for, which is a shock, considering how much of it I drink. 

Nor am I here for this horrid music. I look at the stage and a skinny little whelp is crooning a pathetic rendition of a Pink Floyd song. Kid can’t be older than 18, of course he’s singing a Floyd song. I swear, you  listen to Dark Side of The Moon one time, and suddenly you think you know everything there is to know about music. 

Good Lord… he’s doing a Floyd medley. News flash, boyo, you cannot transition from Wish You Were Here to Another Brick in The Wall without raising a few eyebrows. 

He isn’t a bad looking bloke though. Shaggy brown hair, styled so it’s away from his eyes. He’s got a bit of a long, oval-shaped face, a little gaunt, but not too much. He reminds me of someone… Ah… George Harrison! He’s got a bit of a George Harrison vibe, I reckon. A part of me wants to snap a photo of him and ask Baz if he’d fancy him, but the last time I did that, he chewed my ear off for a week. 

Dramatic little shit. I’m only trying to help. He’s so edgy all the time. Baz is about to head into his final year at Watford and honestly, he needs to let loose and have a little fun, before the pressures of being a Pitch crushes him…

Maybe I’m being the dramatic shit...

I leave George Harrison to his crooning (Christ, he’s moved onto Money. Does he only know the popular Floyd songs? Tosser), and direct myself to the bar. The person I’m here to see greets me with a wide, toothy smile. 

“Well well, look who it is. How are you, love?” bellows Shannon Ryan (Shan for short). Shan is the annoyingly vivacious proprietor of the Golden Griffin Pub and Inn. She is all hair (bright, thick, ginger-red, with a generous amount of blond and strawberry-blond highlights, that falls in tight ringlets down her back) and little to no filter. She’s the kind of person that can decide in an instant if she’ll offer you a free pint, or if she’ll drag your sorry arse onto the curb. Most of the time, she’ll offer you the pint and a wink of her dark brown eyes. 

I give her a half smile and take a seat in front of her. Shan pours me a glass of Chivas (Bless her, she knows I love the stuff) and leans her elbows on the counter. I salute her and nod at George Harrison.

“Heads up Shan, if your lad starts playing Comfortably Numb, I may have to murder him with his own guitar.”

Shan playfully punches my shoulder. Normally, I’d retaliate with a knife to the throat, but I’m not nearly so… angry when Shan’s around. I can relax around her and allow myself to be a little playful. 

“Aw, come on now Prue, Mickey’s not that bad. A little rough around the edg-” She starts to laugh, because George Harrison’s begun to sing Comfortably Numb and I begin to crack my knuckles. Shan grabs my hands and gives them a pat. “Alright, very rough around the edges, but he’s a sweet kid.”

I met Shannon about 4 months ago. It was during one of my lower points. I had been on a wild bender, drinking, smoking up, everything. At some point, I lost all recollection of where I was and what was happening. I still don’t know how long I’d been out of my mind at that point, but I somehow ended up at Shan’s pub, trashed out and rambling nonsense. Shan took one look at me and she decided that she would give me a room and a bed, instead of throwing me out (a horrible decision, really). I woke up in an unknown room, in an unknown bed with her knocking on the door. 

I nearly killed her. 

Shan managed to calm me down and gave me some breakfast. Fat greasy bangers, perfectly poached eggs, fried tomatoes and back bacon. She had informed me that I had been out for quite a while. I remember feeling like a numpty had taken a beating to my head. She had offered to let me stay there so that I could recover from whatever was causing me distress. Instead of taking the hint and staying there, I gathered my belongings while she was gone and slipped out. That would have been the end of it, but I had returned a few days later to pay for my room and board. Shan refused to take my money, and instead asked that I pay her back by coming to see her from time to time. Originally, I was only supposed to come see her until the end of the month… But here we are, four months later and I still find myself wanting to come see her. 

Shan doesn’t know my real name (She knows me by my middle name, Prudence… I swear my family gets its kicks from naming their offspring ridiculous names), nor that I am a magician from a long line of magical aristocracy. She does not know that I am embroiled in the middle of a war that threatens to rip my world and my family apart. Maybe that sense of escapism is why I keep coming back here, why I keep flirting with this Normal pub owner. 

I turn back to her now. She is cleaning some of the dirty glasses that have been left on the bar counter. It’s a quiet evening tonight, not many patrons at the pub. Shan’s pub can gain a small gathering during the weekends, mostly young folks out on a crawl. Some tend to stay here on account of the atmosphere, and Shan’s personality. Tonight’s one of the quieter nights. I blame George Harrison mucking it up on the microphone.  

“Where do you find these characters, Shan?”

“Beats me. They sometimes just show up needing a spot. Mick’s been tossed out from his home, poor child. I give him a room, he works the bar. It all works out.”

Shan sometimes uses her rooms to shelter people who may need a place to stay. I wasn’t a special case for her. Any misfit or vagabond has a place to stay at Shan’s. I suppose that explains George Harrison, who has just finished his set and has exited the stage, thank Merlin for that. She’s now turned on her online music playlist, an eclectic mix of punk, classic rock, and current indie songs. It makes no bloody sense, but the patrons aren’t mad about it. 

“You’re too generous Shan.” She rolls her eyes and proceeds to serve some other patrons who have been waiting for her. Once George Harrison arrives behind the counter, she sends him off to prepare orders while she turns back to me. 

“And you, my dear friend, are far too cold. What brings you here tonight? Chasing one of your hoodlums, again?”

With the war brewing between the Old Families and the Mage, I have been tracking down members of the magical community who have been shunned and cast away by the Mage and his reforms. The Old Families believed that we could find some support amongst the masses who’ve been mistreated by Davy and his band of Merry Men. If I’m in the area, I’ll stop by the pub for a quick drink and a chat. 

Like I said, it’s been happening more often than not. 

Today is different. I am not here because I’m in the area. I felt the need to be here. Maybe it’s the bitter heat of August in London; Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s August 13th, the thirteenth anniversary (plus a day) of my sister’s death that brings me here. Normally, I’d be home, drinking myself into a stupor until enough time has passed where I don’t feel the grief anymore. I never allow myself to drink on the actual day of her death, because I’m too busy spending the day with Basil and Malcolm (Basil mostly), making sure that they’ve kept their heads in one place. I look out for my nephew first and once the day has passed, I go home and begin my process of drinking and mourning.

For some reason, I didn’t want to be home alone today. I don’t know what came over me, but I felt I needed to be here, at Shan’s pub. But I’ll never tell her that. So instead I put on my classic Pitch smooth face and smile slyly at her. 

“Who says I need a reason to be here? Maybe I just decided to come over.” Shan rolls her eyes at me. She faces me and leans over the counter, inches from my face. I have to look away, in case she notices the small blush creeping over my cheeks. I take another sip of my Chivas before looking at her once more. I tilt my head at her and smile. She places her hand on mine and pushes it down, until the glass is back on the counter.

“You’ve always got a reason, Prue. You don’t allow yourself to do anything simply because you want to.” Now, I roll my eyes at her. I down the remainder of my Chivas and slam the glass back down on the counter. I cross my arms over my chest and pull myself back from the counter. 

“Oh? And what exactly do I want?”

Shan also steps back from the counter. She’s got her hands on her hips and shrugs at me. She takes the bottle of Chivas and pours me another glass. 

“I am not nearly qualified enough to untangle the mess in your mind, Prue. I can only offer a listening ear and a reasonable amount of alcohol.” She leans back against the wall. I stare at her for a minute and take in how she looks in the pub’s dim light. Shan’s got incredibly light skin, but it isn’t entirely pale and the dim lighting in here is showcasing her pretty features. She’s wearing a black tank top under a dark purple vest that cuts just at her waist. She’s got on dark jeans and a light gold studded belt. Shan pulls her hair back into a very high, very messy bun at the top of her head. A few strands still hang loose and frame her face. I draw a shaky breath and take a sip of my scotch. I speak softly, more to the glass than to her. 

“My sister died. Yesterday has been 13 years since she died.” Shan relaxes her posture and approaches me again. I don’t shift my position at all. If she thinks she can get me to open up more than that, she’s wrong. I won’t come undone by a pretty girl with bright red hair. 

“You don’t want to be alone then?” Shan reaches for my hand. I don’t let her take it. I’m still focusing on my drink and the patterns of the wood grains on the counter. 

“I am perfectly fine to be alone Shan! I’ve been alone for many years, what’s another one?” I straighten my back even further, attempting to close off my walls. They had been slowly coming down as I spend more time with Shan, but thinking about yesterday, about Tasha, about the losses in my life, have caused me to build them back up with a more reinforced metal. 

Now, I’m here again, in front of Shannon, and the metal around my heart is starting to melt again. What power does this Normal have over me that she can make me feel this way? Shan exits from her side of the bar and she comes to sit down next to me. I want to turn away from her, but I can’t find it in me to do so. I’m running my fingers along the rim of the glass when I feel her tough, guitar-calloused hand lay on top of mine. I refuse to look her in the eyes. She gently places my hand on the counter and turns it over. I finally look at her as she clasps her hand in mine.

“What if you didn’t have to be alone?” Her deep brown eyes are staring right into my grey ones. I can feel my heartbeat beginning to pick up. My breathing becomes a little erratic. I have not felt this in such a long time. Not since my final year at Watford. Not since I had my heartbroken into pieces and decided to shut it down forever. I start to pull my hand away, but Shan holds it tight. I frown at her and glare at her a little bit. 

“People like me are meant to be alone.” I try to make my voice sound icy and intimidating. But, Merlin help me, it sounds breathless, like I’m chocking it out. I take a sharp inhale of breath through my nose. Shan, the fool that she is, reaches over and grabs my other hand, she gently turns my body towards her and leans a little closer to me. She speaks in a soft and calm voice. I almost miss what she says because of the music in the background. 

“You don’t have to be alone.”

She leans in closer to me. I feel a small flutter in the pit of my stomach. I want to lean into her as well, but something stops me. I can’t. I can’t. Not again. Never again. I pull away from her and jump out of my seat. I ignore the confused and saddened look on Shan’s face and I fumble in my bag for my wallet. 

“I have to go.”

Shan grabs my arm and tries to look at me again. I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing me coming undone. I will not let another person into my heart only for them to destroy it again. I can’t handle more pain and misery. 

“Wait… Prue I-” She’s going to beg me to stay, I don’t give her a chance to finish.

“Thank you, Shannon. I’ll see you soon.” I pull out some notes and slam them onto the counter. I yank my arm away from Shan’s grasp and stalk out of the pub, leaving her sorrowful brown eyes behind me. 

I am meant to be alone. I don’t need anyone, especially not some nobody Normal. Even if the same nobody Normal is currently holding a key to my heart. I go home, fully intent on drinking my conflicting feelings away.

________

Six weeks.

Basil’s been missing for six weeks and I haven’t had any luck in finding him. 

I have tried every bloody spell I could think of. I have poured over every single one of Natasha’s old books in that blasted library. I have even tried to contact some of the undesirables in my midst to see if any of them knew anything. None of them could tell me any information. Even though I threatened and screamed and even cast spells to force them to give me any information, none of them had any information to give me. 

I was losing my mind. I wanted nothing more to march into Watford myself and threaten the bloody Mage himself, or even that stupid snivelling little magling, Simon Snow. The only thing preventing me from torching the damn school was the fact that The Mage knew exactly where Baz was and he could decide to retaliate by hurting or even killing him. He was not above murder, the bastard. 

The latest call we got from the numpties had demanded wands from us. They must have been bloody joking. Malcolm, the fool, was already looking for spare wands. I called him a spineless idiot, and if he couldn’t see that this wasn’t about a simple ransom, well then he really was more feebleminded than I thought. I told him that my sister scraped the bottom of the barrel when she married a Grimm and stomped out of the manor. 

The bloody numpties were holding him near some water, so I drew up a map of potential spots where he could be hidden. I was not going to rest until I searched each and every one, no matter how long that took. 

I now find myself walking down a familiar dodgy street, towards a familiar pub. I have not been back since Shan grabbed my hand and I almost allowed her a piece of me. I decided that I would not go back there and risk anything more happening between Shan and myself. To go back would mean I would have to talk about what almost happened, and to do that would mean I would have to either lie to her or give into my feelings, neither option really appealing to me. Still, I need to start a fight. I need to yell at something and punch something. And the thought of Shannon throwing me out of her pub and her life because I caused a fight with her patrons is exactly what I need to revitalize myself on this search mission. 

I storm into the establishment and see a few confused clientele staring at me. I should pick out which unfortunate character will be my target, but my eyes wander to the bar. I want Shan to be watching. 

She isn’t there. But her pathetic little ward is. I march to the bar and before the weasel says anything, I grab his shirt sleeve and pull him over the bar counter. I roughly toss him to the floor. The boy yelps in surprise and lifts his hands up to protect his face. I am not done yet. I am about to lift him up, when someone grabs my arm. I spin around and I’m about to deck them, when I see her deep brown eyes. 

“PRUE! That’s enough!” Shan looks absolutely murderous with rage. I have never seen that look on her face before. I give her a cold hard stare and sneer at her. 

“Get. Your. Bloody. Hands. OFF. ME!” Shan returns my stare with a scowl of her own. She keeps her hand secured on my jacket and begins to drag me outside. 

“We’re going outside, NOW!” 

Well that was fast. I didn’t even get to have any fun. 

Shan shoves me outside and practically tosses me onto the floor. I am astounded by the strength she has, considering just how skinny she is. But she does this for a living. She’s had to toss out larger folks than myself. I dust off my jacket and straighten out my jeans before turning to Shan, who is still wearing a livid look on her face. Her hair, although braided, has a frizzy halo that surrounds it. I already regret coming here. 

“I like you, Prue. But I will not have you starting fights in my pub! Either you tell me what’s gotten into you, or you can kindly fuck off!” She points an accusing finger at me and then out towards the street. I should be honest with her, but I have a knack for self-destruction, so I push my luck.

“Oh fuck off Shan!” She steps back, shocked at first by my demeanor. But she then shakes her head and scoffs. She steps up to me and responds with a coldness of her own.

“If you insist! But this whole tough bitch attitude is getting bloody exhausting! Call me once you’ve calmed yourself” she says as she begins to walk away. I want to let her go back. I want to watch her leave and never see her again. But my damn head won’t let her leave. I call out before I have a chance to stop myself.

“My nephew’s missing...” Shan stops in her tracks. She turns to me, her furious face already changed to one of deep concern. “He’s been missing for nearly 6 weeks and I’m going out of my bloody mind!” 

She approaches me cautiously. I know she is still very angry with me and my actions. She asks me smoothly, “Have they demanded a ransom?” Shan knows well enough to not ask about law enforcement. With the type of charges she takes in, the reality is that law enforcement will typically make matters worse. 

I roll my eyes and answer her. “We don’t pay ransoms in my family!” 

Shan stares incredulously at me, “Are you daft? I don’t know what kind of business you’re running Prudence, but I think the life of your nephew is worth a ransom payment, yeah?”

“This isn’t about a ransom, Shannon! It’s something more! Oh forget it! I’m wasting time, I could be using to search under bridges or in sewers!” This was a mistake. I never should have come here. I turn my back to Shan and start to walk away. 

“Under bridges?” She asks me. I stop and turn back to her. 

“The kidnappers sounded like they were near running water when they called. Which, considering this bloody city, could be fucking anywhere!”

“Christ…” Shan starts to shake her head. She put her hand to her face, as if she was starting to ponder something. It is enough for me to march right back up to her.

“What is it!?”

“I thought he was being batty…” Shan delivers that line in such a thoughtful way that I almost want to be gentle with her. 

Almost. But Basil is missing and this is the first tiny morsel of a clue that I have had for six weeks. So I grab Shan’s shoulders and press her further.

“Who was?! What do you know Shan!?” She frowns at me and shrugs me off.

“Nothing, Prue! I volunteer at one of the homeless shelters in the city and one of our regulars was going on about how one of his favourite sleeping spots near the river was overrun with boulders. It looked like someone was trying to hide something there. The man’s a little mad. He claimed that some of the boulders were moving.”

Moving boulders?! Bloody fucking hell! That’s it! That’s fucking it! Six weeks, I’ve been going mad trying to find Basil, and all this time, the one place I should have been looking was amongst the vagabonds and the homeless. Christ, go figure I’d find my most important clue with Shannon fucking Ryan.  

“Where is he now!!?” I demand of her.  Maybe a little too harshly. I really couldn't care less if I hurt Shan’s feelings anymore. I need to find this drifter as soon as I can. 

“Prue! You can’t be-” Shan tries to calm me down, but I am not having it. I am so close to bringing my nephew home, I am not stopping now. I get up to her face and nearly shout at her.

“You tell me where he is now, Shannon, or I swear to Christ…” Shan shakes her head at me, but she caves in and sighs at me. 

“You are a lunatic, Prudence. But he’s most likely at Whitechapel. He’s been spending most of his time th- Prue!” I’m already walking away. I have all the information I need.

“I’ll see you later, Shan.” I say to her. Maybe if I survive this, I’ll come back and apologize for being a proper psychopath towards her. Maybe she’ll forgive me. For now, I have more important matters to attend to.

“Prue! Come back! You can’t do this alone!” 

That’s where you’re wrong Shannon. I’ve had to do everything on my own. It’s what I’m best at. I can still hear her shouting into the night, even though I am far from the pub at this point. 

“PRUDENCE!”

________

I am once more, back at the Golden Griffin. The pub has just closed for the night, but I know that Shan is still inside. She usually stays behind a few hours after closing time in order to clean up the place. I stand right in front of the door, taking a few moments to decide if I want to knock on her door, or if I should leave. I lift my fist to the window on the door. I’m about to knock when Shan’s head pops up from the side of the door. She looks surprised to see me at first, then… is that relief? She whips the door opened and pulls me inside. 

“Prudence…” she whispers to me. She holds my hand in hers. Merlin, what is she doing to me? I let go of her hand and stuff my hands into my jacket pockets. I clear my throat and start to talk.

“He was alive. I found him in time.”

“Your nephew. I’m so relieved to hear that.” She’s got her hand over her heart and she sighs in relief. Has she truly been worried this whole time? 

I feel guilty for not coming back sooner. But I had to make sure Baz was fine and then well, I wanted to start planning retribution for this attack on my family. I hadn’t realized that it was mid-November and I still had not gone to see Shan. 

And so, here I am. At 2AM on a Tuesday. At this pub once more, in front of this Normal. This Normal who is nobody important, from a nobody family. Yet, all I’m hoping is that she can forgive me for my foolishness. 

“You said I couldn’t do it alone. I did it alone. I found him, I got him back. I didn’t need anyone.” I just have to antagonize her, don’t I? I am a Pitch after all. Shan shakes her head, like she was ready for this to begin with an argument. 

“I’m happy for you Prue. Truly, I am.” She responds with an icy sarcasm. Her arms are crossed and she is leaning away from me. She isn’t up for having a go at me. I take a half-step towards her and offer an olive branch.

“My real name’s Fiona. Fiona Pitch.” Shan drops her hands to her hips. She gives me a cold stare and shakes her head. She then raises her hands slightly only to cross them again. She’s upset and I can’t say I blame her. I’ve only been lying to her for several months. 

“Fiona. Christ… Alright…”

“Prudence is my middle name. I didn’t know you.” I offer her an explanation. She rolls her eyes at that and continues to stare at me. 

“Fine, Fiona. What do you want from me?” She waves her arms and points to her chest. I furrow my eyebrows. I don’t know how to answer her question. I also don’t like how she calls me Fiona with disdain in her voice. As if she’s talking to someone she doesn’t know or care for. I suppose I deserve that. 

“I don’t need anyone. I’m perfectly fine to be on my own.” I take another half-step towards her. 

“What do you want from me, Fiona?” She asks me again. She is challenging me. Her voice, while still severe, is more inquisitive. She wants me to answer her, to let her in. To allow her another piece of me. 

I am not ready to answer her. Instead I continue to fight her and my own feelings. 

“I do not want another person coming into my life only to destroy it again!” I turn my head away from her as I expose a tiny piece of myself. Shan now steps forward. She is a breath away from me now. I want to touch her hair, her face, her hands. 

“What do you want from me, Fiona?” Her voice has now lost its edge, its icy tone. She is softer now, asking me to trust her. She reaches for my hand. I let her take it. I look down at our clasped hands, and I remember the last time she did this. I’m going to try and not run away again.  

“But then you held my hand… You held my hand. And you told me I didn’t have to be alone!”

“I did.” She says so sincerely. 

“And you helped me find my nephew.” I try to divert the conversation. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Merlin help me, I am not ready for this. 

“I can’t take credit for that.” One of her hands has reached up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“You helped me.”

“What do you want from me Fi-” She asks one last time. I feel her breath on my face. I give in.

This time, I am ready to answer her. 

I lean forward and kiss her. Her lips feel so soft, if a little chapped. Shan responds and returns my kiss. One of my hands has moved to the back of her head. I feel her thick soft curls in my hand. She has gripped my face in her hands. I feel her tilt her head and start softly nibbling on my bottom lip. I respond by lightly running my tongue over her teeth. I’ve wanted this for so long. Merlin knows why I’ve been denying it to myself. Our kiss breaks apart and Shan leans her head on the crook of my neck. 

“You. I want you, Shannon. Ever since you grabbed my hand and threw my world into bloody turmoil!” I whisper into her hair. She pulls away from me and looks at me as if I’m the most insane person in the world. She wouldn’t be wrong to assume that. I’m pretty sure there is a history of insanity within my family. 

“Well fuck, Prue… All you had to do was ask. But instead you ran away and acted like a bloody maniac. You could have talked to me, you know!” She shakes me lightly. 

“I bloody well could not!” I look away from her and shake my head. She wouldn’t understand. I am not the type of person who stands at the doorstep of a lover begging them to take them back or to love them. Even if I was, Shan’s life is wholesome and uncomplicated. All I am is one complication after another. She doesn’t need that in her life. 

“Why not? Help me understand you, Prue.” She’s grabbed my face again and she’s staring me down. Merlin help me, in the light, her eyes look like pools of honey. I grab her wrists tight. 

“I’m a bloody mess, Shan. I have no direction. I’m a disgrace to my family. A disgrace to my name.” Shan smiles at me. She runs her hands through my hair and I sigh. I’m a fucking mess. If my sister could see me now, she’d be so fucking disappointed. 

“You don’t have to be FIONA PITCH with me.” I snort sarcastically as she says my name with a snooty accent. “With me, you can be Prue. I like Prue a whole lot. She’s wild. She’s intense, but she’s got a good heart. She’s bloody gorgeous to.” With that, she grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me into another deep kiss. My hands trail down to her hips and hold her in place. My thumbs tuck inside the hem of her jeans and run across her skin. It feels so soft. So perfect.  We pull away again and I laugh a little. 

“I can’t promise that I won’t run away or that I won’t be a complete maniac.”

“I can’t promise that I won’t kick your arse for being completely daft!” Shan flicks my white streak. 

“This could be a bloody disaster…” 

“Or not... Just don’t threaten my bartender again, or I may have to kill you.” She gives me a playfully wink, but I know she’s dead serious. I respond with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of my head. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

 With that, Shan cocks a half smile at me. She takes me by the hand and leads me away from the pub towards the stairs that lead to the Inn. She closes the lights as we walk up the stairs. 

I am not ready to give my heart to another person who could very well break it. But with Shan, I’m willing to risk it. 

Normal life be damned. 

And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. It’s such a feeling that my love, I can’t hide. 

[lupinlongbottom]

Honey

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) tries to enjoy a beautiful day near the lake, only to be interrupted by Fred Weasley. He needed help on a Potions assignment, but grew quite intrigued by another book in (Y/N)’s possession.  

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: None, just fluffy goodness.

A/N: Fluffy fluff! That’s all this is. Slightly self indulgent I guess? (Y/N)’s favorite book growing up was my favorite too lol. Ah well. 

__

The wind was blowing slightly, the breeze bringing the scent of spring. Flowers and the faint smell of leather Quidditch gear far from the pitch wafted along the wind. It was (Y/N)’s favorite time of year at Hogwarts, especially when she sat under a rather large tree on the edge of the lake, the water reflecting the sun brightly on it’s crystal surface. (Y/N) leaned against the trunk, closing her eyes gently. It truly was a perfect day.  

“Oi! (Y/N)!” A voice shrieked. (Y/N) opened an eye curiously, trying to find the source of the sound. No luck. She closed her eye again, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. “What’s the matter (L/N)? Didn’t hear me?” She opened both eyes this time, only to be met with one Fred Weasley.

“I heard you,” (Y/N) said automatically. “Didn’t want to answer s’all.”

“Ouch! That hit me hard (Y/N). Hurt my pride a bit.” Fred said, flopping down on a patch of grass near her, laying flat on his back. She rolled her eyes.

“Sure it did,” (Y/N) laughed. Fred always had the flair for the dramatic, trying to usually catch the eye of whoever was around him. “What did you need? I was trying to rest my eyes for a moment.” Fred rolled over on his side, looking at (Y/N) head on. She was still leaned up against the trunk, somehow comfortably, much to Fred’s astonishment. Her hair was flowing with the breeze, the patches of light filtering from the tree above swayed around her. It reminded Fred of the Muggle contraption called a ‘disco ball’ he had heard his father talk so much about. She was ethereal, unbelievably beautiful. Fred couldn’t believe he existed on the same planet in the same place and time she did.

“Needed some help with the Potions homework, seeing as you’re so amazing at the subject,” Fred admitted. “I tried asking Georgie, but he hadn’t done it yet either, if you can imagine that.” (Y/N) pulled her back from the trunk, a bit of her hair caught on the bark behind her, eliciting a small wince of pain as she broke free.

“You—Fred Weasley—want to complete a homework assignment a good three or so days ahead of the due date? Am I getting pranked?” (Y/N) glanced around dramatically, hand grabbing her chest. Would she find a group of people waiting for her reaction? It was hard to say. Fred groaned, flopping back to his backside, staring directly up at the swaying leaves above, the peaks of sunlight shining in his eyes.

“Hey, a guy can change his ways, can’t he?” Fred asked, glancing over. (Y/N) just stared at the redhead with her eyebrow cocked upwards, arms crossed. “Okay, maybe not that drastically. But seriously, I would really appreciate the help.” His eyes found the top of the tree again, not meeting with (Y/N)’s face. His cheeks were slightly pink. He hoped the shade would hide the color from (Y/N)’s gaze. It didn’t, but she chose to ignore it. Or, at least try to.  

“Suppose I could,” (Y/N) sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” She mumbled quietly, hoping Fred didn’t hear. He did, but decided if he wanted any help, he should fight the urge to tease her about it. Still, the words reverberated through his head, repeating back to him over and over. His heart was beating a little faster than normal, a typical reaction that he had whenever (Y/N) was around.

“Great! I owe you big time (Y/N)!” Fred said, sitting straight up. He found himself almost leaning in to hug her, but stopped before he got too close. It would be strange if he did hug her, seeing as they were friends. Just friends.

“You’re in luck. I think I packed my textbook in my bag, do you mind grabbing it for me?” (Y/N) pointed to her brown book bag, tattered on the corners from wear and handling. It was weathered in a way you’d expect, faded and wrinkled from the sun and exposure, the (Y/H) crest adorned smack in the middle of the flap. It was obvious she spent loads of time outside with the bag. Fred leaned over to grab it, looping his hand through the strap and pulling it to his lap, grunting at the surprising weight.

“What do you keep in here? Merlin’s pants! It’s so heavy!” Fred squeaked, flapping the top open. (Y/N) smiled gently at his misery.

“Just the essentials, books, parchment, quills and ink. Usual student stuff.”

“Essentials!? Usual students don’t carry this many books,” Fred mumbled, fingering through the colored covers in the bag. He had found their Potions textbook quite easily, it was thick and a musty purple. A bright blue book caught his eye, leaning up against their textbook. It was small and rather thin compared to the others. He touched it gently, running his fingertips across the worn spine. “Find it?” (Y/N) asked curiously, peeking into her bag. Fred moved the flap so (Y/N) couldn’t gaze into it.

“Oh, yeah,” He hummed. Without a second thought, he grabbed the blue book to look at the cover. “Though, this seems much more interesting.” On the cover was an illustration, Fred assumed it was a child and what looked to be a bear. His eyes scanned the title. “Winnie-the-Pooh?” (Y/N)’s eyes widened, her cheeks growing rosy.

“Give me that!” She leaned forward, trying to snatch the book from Fred’s grasp. He was quick to lean back and away from her grabbing hands. (Y/N) moved to her knees, waddling over to Fred, who raised the book high over his head.

“Not until you tell me what this is!” Fred said, holding the book higher. He silently thanked his parents for blessing him with such a towering height, it had finally had become useful. (Y/N) sighed, admitting defeat.

“It’s a children’s book, a Muggle one,” (Y/N) said, pushing stray hairs behind her ear. “My favorite actually.” She looked embarrassed, as if she had even the slightest reason to be.

“What are you doing with a Muggle book?” Fred asked, almost stupidly. (Y/N) cocked another eyebrow at him as she sat back down against the trunk.

“My mum’s a Muggle, remember?” Suddenly, the fact dawned on Fred, slapping him flat on the face. Of course he remembered. (Y/N) was a half-blood, her father was a wizard who had married a Muggle. (Y/N) was raised mostly in the Muggle world, not really experiencing what the Wizarding World had to offer, seeing as her father chose a life most wizards scoffed at, blending into the Muggle world.

“Oh, right. Forgot.” Fred said hesitantly. He flipped open the front cover to find a hand-written note in the top left corner, drawn in a cramped, looping font.

To my dearest (Y/N),

May Hogwarts fill your life, heart and mind with the many adventures I could never give you.

I’ll miss you my little Honey Pot.

Love,

Mum  

Fred glanced up at (Y/N), her face shined a bright pink hue. Fred couldn’t pull his eyes away from her glowing cheeks, the way her eyes were shifted down at the patch of dirt beneath her hand. His breath hitched, caught in his throat. Merlin was he taken by this girl.

“My mum,” (Y/N) took a deep breath, her cheeks still flamed. “She would read me a story from that book almost every night. The characters felt so—so real, like they were there, beside me. Reading that book now,” (Y/N)’s eyes met Fred’s. “Calms me down, reminds me of home. Makes me feel a little less alone,” Fred didn’t speak. (Y/N)’s face flared brighter, flustered by the silence. “Forget I said anything, let’s—Potions homework. Right.” She reached for her book bag, only to be met with Fred’s hand.

“Read it to me.” He held her hand tightly, afraid to let go. Her palm was slightly calloused. From what? He wondered. Perhaps her broomstick, she had a nasty habit of falling off.  “What?” (Y/N)’s voice snagged. Fred’s eyes were full of intensity, something (Y/N) had only ever witnessed when he was fully invested in his latest and greatest prank. Hardly did she see him look this serious.  

“I—I mean, only if you want to! I’m really interested in what stories Muggle parents tell their kids,” Fred said, stammering. He pulled his hand away. “All we wizard kids have are The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and those stories make little to no sense! Runes, who can read those anyway? Besides, this sounds important to you. I want to hear all about it,” Fred tried to explain himself, paint himself in a curious light perhaps. He could admit he was slightly interested in the book, but he was more interested in hearing (Y/N)’s sweet voice.

“It’s hardly that interesting,” (Y/N) gently grabbed the book from Fred’s grasp, flipping through the worn and slightly yellowed pages. “It’s about a stuffed bear and his friends—”

“Named Pooh?” “Yeah, a toy bear named Pooh—don’t laugh, it’s not the same as what you’re thinking of—they live in a forest you see. They’re usually visited by their good friend Christopher Robin—”

“Christopher Robin?” Fred scoffed. “What kind of name is that?”

“Would you let me finish?” (Y/N) spat, clearly irritated. Fred shut up. “It’s just a collection of stories that the group of friends experience together. Teaching kids the importance of love and friendship and all those good things.”

“So, no deaths?” Fred questioned. (Y/N) looked up from her book, only to notice that Fred was being completely serious, his face hardened in anticipation.

“No. No deaths, it’s a children’s book Fred,” (Y/N) giggled. “Why? Do wizarding stories usually include death?” Fred wiggled up against the tree trunk, closer to (Y/N), looping his hands behind his head, supporting his neck.

“Nah, more like hexes, jinxes and curses really. Lets kids know if you’re a terrible person, the world will punish you for it.” Fred took this chance to lean up next to (Y/N), he was close enough to smell her perfume. Minty and floral, with a hint of honey? Whatever it was, it was entirely delightful. He wanted to breathe it in all day if he could.

“Sounds… dark. Interesting! Terribly dark, but interesting. You’ll have to share a few of those stories with me sometime,” (Y/N) giggled again. “But if you insist on hearing me read—”

“Yes please!” Fred slumped down the trunk, head landing on (Y/N)’s lap. “Read away!” His pointed hand flew to the sky. The movement was sudden, sure, but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Comfy are you?” (Y/N) teased. Fred wiggled, adjusting his head slightly. The grass was tickling his arms, but he decided to fight the urge to move. He was enjoying his position far too greatly.

“Am now. Go on, do your thing.” His eyes were closed, though he knew that (Y/N) was grinning all the while.

“Will do.” (Y/N) cracked open the book and began to read. Her voice was laced with slight excitement, masked by a soft tone. She hadn’t read these stories aloud in a long while. As much as she despised how embarrassed she felt before, the position she currently was in made it feel all worthwhile. Was the excitement truly from the book? Or did it stem from the redhead softly settled on her lap?

“Oh! Honey pot! I get it now! Because the bear—the honey!” Fred interrupted, remembering the note (Y/N)’s mum had written in the cover. “It’s a lovely nickname.”

“Shove it Weasley.” (Y/N) feigned annoyance, though, she did rather enjoy hearing him speak of her childhood nickname.  “Honey pot, because you’re so sweet,” Fred yawned. He had grown rather drowsy from the story, (Y/N)’s voice had lulled him into a quiet state. “Sweet nickname for a sweet girl.”

(Y/N) chose to not dwell on Fred’s tired words, instead, she gently brushed her fingers through his hair, continuing to read with the vigor and passion her mother once did. Fred smiled gently, leaning his head into her touch, holding onto every word (Y/N) uttered. The Potions homework was all but forgotten. One day, he’d buck up the courage to tell (Y/N) how he really felt, but for now? It truly was a perfect day.  

[frostyiceberg]

(Newt Scamander x Reader) The Case’s Secret [SMUT]

Title : The Case’s Secret

Request : Yes - anonymous -  I luv your blog and your writing so much !!! Anyway i was wondering if i could request a smutty newt scamander imagine of maybe the reader walking in on newt’s “private time” with himself 👀 if you get my meaning and its just super awkward and funny (hopefully you understand) please and thank you!

Smut : HELL YEAH

Word Count : 1,459

Summary : You caught newt masturbating

A/N : one request down, still more to go! for those of you who requested, please be patient because i choose the request on my will, not according to the list. Because i dont want to be forced to write something when i dont have the inspiration for it. And also, requests are still open! Enjoy this one!

Sequel : http://frostyiceberg.tumblr.com/post/155435491004/newt-scamander-x-reader-spicy-vanilla-smut

————————–

There are grunting sounds coming from Newt’s case.

It had been a rough day for both of you and Newt, as the Niffler had escaped again. You and him was planning to visit Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore himself invited Newt personally after his success on publishing the book. You and Newt wanted to grab some things in the Diagon alley until the little thief escaped.

The two of you chased it through Diagon alley, almost losing it before you lured the Niffler with the sapphire necklace Newt gave you.

Newt was almost hysterical when you did, but he was thankful when you swiftly caught the Niffler and turned it upside down, emptying the little bugger’s pocket. People were a bit angry when they found out the Niffler took their missing stuffs, but you managed to calm them down before Newt got swallowed by the anger of those wizards.

You were going to grab some dinner, but you lost your sack of money and Newt’s was stolen by the Niffler. It’d be impossible to take it from the creature, so you decided to head back to Newt’s old house.

The house was passed down from his parents’, and Theseus, his brother, also got one, but bigger and grander. His brother has always been everyone’s favorite. But it didn’t discourage him, since the house is very cozy.

As you had expected, the house is fairly dirty, with lots of Newt’s books everywhere. He used to keep his most of his beasts in this house, but then he moved them into the magic suitcase. Casting the spell, a wind swept through the house, taking the dust in its way.

Both of you sighed in delight, and he set down his case in the middle of the room, in front of the unlit fireplace and amidst the couch. He stepped into the case, and disappearead without any sound. You shook your head. He always puts his creature before himself.

You decided to cook dinner, using vegetables overgrowing in his small garden. ‘Didn’t know Newt loved to plant too,’ you thought to yourself, swinging your wand to the selected crops. ‘Probably to feed his beasts,’ you think again. The crops floated in the air, following you to the kitchen.

You made an onion stew, something to warm the two of you up after the long day. You used magic with everything to cook, something you don’t usually do. Once the stew was ready, you let it be in the pot, with low heat, so it would be warm when you and Newt are ready to eat.

That’s when you approached his case and hear those grunting sounds.

“Newt?” you call out. You’re replied with some more grunting and panting sound, also a whimper of your name.

It sounds like he’s in pain, so you immediately jump into the case, landing with a loud thud. The room is not the usual Newt’s workplace; it’s a dimly lit room with soft looking sofa in the corner of the room, a coffee table in the middle, and other homely furniture.

The grunting abruptly stops, and you’re eye to eye with a shocked Newt, sitting on the couch, holding his manhood in hand.

He shoves his penis into his pants, and then straightens his shirt and his trousers, trying to look decent despite him being caught red handed.

“[N-Name], I swear I can explain this,” he stutters nervously, his hands wiping onto his trousers.

“I, uh… I don’t really know what to say…”

“I-I’m so sorry…”

“No Newt, you’re not wrong, I, um, I’ll leave you to it if you want…?”

“N-No, it’s okay, I’m sorry about this…”

“Well… Do you want me to help you?” you offer him, shyly taking steps towards the sweating man. You raise your hand and wipe his sweat, and kiss him on the cheek. “Only if you want to though,” you add with another kiss.

“It would be my pleasure, b-but, are you sure?”

You answer him by kneeling in front of him and pull down the zipper of his trousers. His breath hitches on his throat when you put a finger on the wet part of his underwear. You rub the spot teasingly, trying to see the expression Newt makes when you do so.

“[N-Name]… Please… I-I need you…” he begs.

“Is it what you want baby?

“Y-Yes… Please…”

You happily oblige his pleas and pull down his underwear in one quick motion, making his cock springs free. He hisses when his cock meets the cold air, the sudden temperature taking him by surprise.

Your… Sexy time with Newt has never been in this situation before. It will always be him, giving you, and it’s always vanilla. He never demands anything from you, even though you tend to ask or offer him the pleasure he deserves. And this time is your rare chance.

“Ooh… [Name]…”

You wrap your fingers around the shaft, while your thumb makes a circular motion on the tip, spreading the precum on the already slick head. You mercilessly pump his manhood in a slow pace, and he groans in frustration.

“Aaaaghh, [Name], please, please…”

If you didn’t have a heart for this man, you wouldn’t stop being this slow. Heck, you wouldn’t even give him the treatment. But this is Newt Scamander, and you would do anything to make him happy.

You pick up the pumping pace with your hand as you lick the tip of his cock, swiftly enveloping the head with your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking the head before slowly releasing your finger and take him deeper.

He moans loudly when you do so, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him gripping the handrest of the sofa powerfully that it turns his knuckle white.

Not wanting him to hurt himself, you take his cock out of your mouth. He immediately looks at you, face full with confusion. You take both of his hands, kisses both of them, and place it on both sides of your head.

“Don’t hold it by yourself Newt,” you say, looking up to him.

“B-But… I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

Before he can object to anything, you take his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking harder than before. He arches his head back, letting out a scream of your name. His hands on the side of your head remain frozen, until you start bobbing your head.

He loses control slowly, then all at once. The next thing you know is tears little by little coming out of your eyes as you try to maintain the fast pace. Newt is grunting and groaning as the tension builds up in his cock.

“I-I’m coming, a-aah!!”

Hot semen spurts into your mouth, and you cough, choking on it. But then, you swallow some that remains in your mouth. Newt, after regaining his senses, looks horrified. The sight of you all sweaty and dirty with his cum makes his cock slowly rise again, but he tries to hide it.

“O-Oh Merlin, what have I done? [Name], are you alright?”

You wipe your mouth and the spilled semen with your shirt, and you can hollowly feel the salty taste still remains in your mouth.

“Yes, Newt, I am alright. How about you? Did you enjoy it?”

“I-I do, but good God you’re crying! Did I hurt you?”

“No Newt, it’s fine really! I’m okay, see?”

You lift yourself and sit beside him, swiping his messy, sweaty hair and kiss his forehead.

“You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. You deserve every single good thing in this world.”

“But…”

“No buts. Now… How did you conjure this room? I didn’t know you have this in your case!”

“W-Well… It was meant to be a room to relax for myself… But I may have misused it…”

“Hmm… You naughty boy.”

“O-Oh, but I am your naughty boy…”

You pinch him on the cheeks, kissing him on the lips after doing so.

“Now… Do you want to continue…?”

“I’d love to… But… I think I smell something burning…”

You lift your head from his face, sniffing into the air. And as Newt said, there really is something burning.

“Oh no!! My stew!! Sorry baby, we have to do this later. Come up when you’re ready for dinner, alright?” you say before frantically climbing up out of the case.

Newt, on the other hand, still sweaty and tired, smiles to himself as he sees you disappear from his sight. He will definitely repay you tonight, taking a ‘dessert’ for his own after eating the dinner you make.

“Newt? Come on up! Let’s eat!”

And he will definitely hear his name being screamed later.

[heartfeltheart]

Alchemy: Tiny Steps

Chapters: 4/45 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Pro!Snape Series: Part 2 of 9. Summary: Part two of the Alchemy Series.  Politics. Either you love it, hate it or you live it. For Alchemy Teacher Edward Elric, he lives it, hates it and loves it when he gets the upper hand. Here is to another year of hell… D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

"She's winning their approval... How is she winning their approval?"

Fudge paced around his small office, at the edge of having a mental breakdown. This was not supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to meet with opposition from anyone for the title of Minister of Magic. Albus Dumbledore had stepped down from the offer, the main opponent of this whole race. Then here comes someone 'new'. Madam Amelia Bones. Someone who is in a position that easily puts her for Minister, a powerful witch by everyone's right and she terrifies him.

Fudge stopped pacing around his office when a thought came to mind. Why in Merlin's beard Bones even bothered to take on the position of Minister? Not once had she even glanced at the title and even before Bagnold had taken the position, Bones made any notion about it. Nothing made sense for him.

Everything changed the moment Edward Elric made his appearance in the magical world. The so-called Alchemy Teacher changed and ruined everything for him. Fudge is losing supporters and it appears no matter what he does seems for not. Curse that blasted muggle!

-.-

"Are you crazy? I'm being serious here, are you genuinely going crazy?" Edward couldn't believe that his brother of all people has thought up a plan that seemed so... Ugh. He can't even think about it without it warranting him a headache. "You are crazy. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my brother? Wait... Truth? Is that you? I swear if this is one of your damn games..."

Alphonse gave his brother a deadpanned expression with Edward started to yell into his ears, excessively pull at his ears and clothes. Of course, his brother will question his sanity, Mei had already done so. At least Edward is laughing at him at his idea... It wasn't that his idea was horrible, it was something only Edward would have thought of. Not himself, no... Alphonse Elric will never think up such a plan. "Is it true that it's  that horrible of a plan?"

Edward stopped pulling at Alphonse's ears long enough to stop yelling at him. "To be perfectly honest, that plan would have been something I would have thought up. I would have thought you wanted to have them come to your home turf."

"I had thought about that, but... it will be a bigger impact if we personal take a trip out to Magical Great Britain."

"...Wow... Squinty Eyes has really been a bad influence on you..."

"Ugh... why are you looking at me like that?"

"People are going to assume I'm the one that is badly influencing you..."

"So you agree with my plan?"

"No. I don't. I had planned on going back home to Winry and start planning the wedding."

"I thought it got postponed until next summer."

"It did.... Major General Armstrong requested Winry to head out North. Apparently, their automail mechanic had more or less demanded a vacation and they need a mechanic until she returns."

"...She doesn't have a choice, doesn't she?"

"Major General Armstrong added the incentive of paying off our honeymoon to Rush Valley."

-.-

"Xing? Are we going to Xing? For what reason?"

"The Emperor of Xing had asked for a select few for a Royal Dinner."

"Do you believe this has to do with choosing the next Minister?"

"What makes you say that?"

"This so-called child Emperor is sending random items to Bone's supporters."

"Are you saying that...?"

"We need to go to this dinner."

-.-

"What a lovely invitation..." Amelia Bones mused as she scanned at an invitation that just arrived for her. Written in delicate golden calligraphy, green tinted paper with the symbol of the Emperor stamped on the bottom of the invitation. The more she stared at the invitation, the higher Amelia's eyebrow rose. There was something off in the letter that has her wondering what the writer of the letter wanted her to read.

Placing the letter on top of her desk, Amelia plucked out a feather from an inkwell and a clean scroll. From the conversations, she had with General Mustang, it got her thinking. The second main topic of their conversations, alchemy. One conversation, in particular, was about encrypted notes, maybe there is something more about this invitation?

-.-

"Is everything almost ready for our guest, Lan Fan?"

Lan Fan peaked over a large pile of food to get a better look at Ling, said the male is stuffing his face with said food. "All that is left is wait for the said day and for the guest to arrive."

"Good. How about our friends from Amestris?"

Lan Fan disappeared from Ling's sight temporarily and returned with a paper in hand. "They should be arriving tomorrow afternoon. Sooner, depending if the sandstorm lights up."

"And from Magical Britain?"

Once more, Lan Fan disappeared and reappeared with another scroll. "Madam Bones is coming along with her niece, left hand and two other to act as guards. As for Cornelius Fudge," "Hehehehe, fudge..." "he is bringing... over twenty individuals..."

"Should we inform Amestris?"

"The group that needs to know this information are currently stuck in the middle of a sandstorm. We'll tell them once they arrive."

"Of course."

"What are your thoughts on the situation we are currently in, Lan Fan?"

Lan Fan looked partially taken aback by Ling's question. She glanced around the main master bedroom of the Place to see that Ling and herself are the only ones present. The Bodyguard already knew the answer to her question, despite the years of personal knowing the Emperor himself for so many years, it still unnerves her at how casual he is with her during these times. Asking her questions that are typically reserved for a personal 'professional' advisor. Someone the council deemed acceptable and not someone like her. Then again, she is the only one besides a very certain few Ling trust to this high enough of a degree. "I believe this plan will lead to complications if we side with Amestris or Magical Great Britain. Especially who becomes Minister..."

"Especially if Fudge becomes Minister..." Ling hummed musingly, he crossed his arms over his chest and thought over his future actions. He glanced up to that Lan Fan had disappeared from his sight, with a tap of his fingers against upper arm almost annoyingly. In that instant, there was curt knock came from the main entrance of his room and several maids came in to retrieve the empty plates of food. Of course, Lan Fan disappeared from his sight. Rumors quickly spread and they will disproportionate everything they see. That could come in handy... looking around his makeshift desk, Ling picked up a pen (grudgingly, the emperor preferred to use pens over using a brush and ink, he thank Edward for sending him a pack of pens) and a loose leaf of paper from a stack of papers. Writing a couple of words, (mostly measurements), on the paper and signaled for one of the head maids to come over. Fortunately for him, the woman is far too used to his intricate behavior and walked over towards him and kneeled next to him. Ling whispered into her ear and slipped the paper into her hands.

For her own credit, the maid's face remained impassive except when Ling started to giggle at his own plan. With a bow, the older woman hid the paper into her long sleeve and walked out of the room with the others.

"Hey, Lan Fan! Quick question, what's your measurements? I have to make sure the ones I wrote down are the right ones."

From her hiding spot in the room, Lan Fan face went red, mouth agape and pointing accusingly at Ling. She doesn't know if she should be offended at what was asked of her, wonder how Ling even got her... measurements... in the first place or wondering why he needs to know her measurements in the first place! "My Lord!"

"What? I want you to be sitting by my side when they come. There's no one else I trust more being by my side than you."

"..."

"Are your measurements-"

-.-

The two guards that are guarding the main entrance of the Emperor's room stood in their position for what seemed like forever. This job is dull as their commander deals with the main threats against the Emperor. They are two of the most trusted guards and are tight lip onto whatever is occurring on the other side of the doors. However, what is about to occur will cause the entire Palace will know what supposedly happened behind those closed doors.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Without a second thought, both guards slammed the door open with their weapons drawn. They stopped to gawk at the scene before them...