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Betrayal and Arrest of Jesus
1 When Jesus had said these things, He went forth with His disciples across the brook Kedron, where there was a garden, into which He entered as well as His disciples.
2 And Judas also, who was betraying Him, knew the place, for Jesus often gathered there with His disciples.
3 Then Judas, having gotten the cohort and some attendants from the chief priests and Pharisees, came there with torches and lamps and weapons.
4 Jesus therefore, knowing all the things that were coming upon him, went forth and said to them, Whom do you seek?
5 They answered Him, Jesus the Nazarene. He said to them, I am. And Judas also, who was betraying Him, was standing with them.
6 When therefore He said to them, I am, they drew back and fell to the ground.
7 Then again He asked them, Whom do you seek? And they said, Jesus the Nazarene.
8 Jesus answered, I told you that I am; if therefore you seek Me, let these go away,
9 That the word might be fulfilled which He spoke, Of those whom You have given Me, I have not lost one.
10 Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the slave of the high priest and cut off his right ear; and the slave’s name was Malchus.
11 Jesus therefore said to Peter, Put the sword into its sheath. The cup which the Father has given Me, shall I not drink it? — John 18:1-11 | Recovery Version (REC) The Recovery Version of the Holy Bible © 2016 Living Stream Ministry. All rights reserved. Cross References: 2 Samuel 15:23; 2 Samuel 16:10; 1 Kings 2:37; Matthew 2:23; Matthew 17:15; Matthew 25:1; Matthew 26:39; Matthew 26:47; Mark 14:36; Luke 21:37; Luke 22:42; John 6:39; John 6:64; John 13:1; John 17:12
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breedsblood · 1 month
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Ministry - Work for Love - Live Streaming With JustJenReacts
Click Link For Full Video
https://rumble.com/v4d2zif-ministry-work-for-love-live-streaming-with-justjenreacts.html?mref=1t2sy0&mc=e0pra
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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant
I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.
I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.
Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.
This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.
I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.
I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.
That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.
I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.
Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.
About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.
But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?
A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.
Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.
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book-place · 1 year
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American Pie
Warnings: Harry Potter series spoilers, character death, violence, cursing, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Harry Potter x aunt reader
Request: Hello I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of the potter twins . Like where y/n gets hold of Harry and sends him off and stuff and seeing him grow up and he can like rely on you ? And like your a cool aunt and everyone loves you ? You don’t have to but sorry for bothering you
Request by: @bellboy2107
*not my gif*
Summary: Since your brother was now gone, Harry was the only person that mattered to you
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!; This is a part 2 for Potter Twins
Inspired by: American Pie by Don McLean
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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Long long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
Slowly, your eyes opened and tried to adjust to the light streaming through the windows directly at you, as if on purpose to wake you up.
Stifling a groan, you sat upright and dropped your head into your hands, not wanting to face the day. Not another one. You didn’t know how much longer you could do it without your brother by your side. And it had only been a month.
The singular thought keeping you going was the thought that one day you would be able to get Harry back, your last link to James and your only surviving family member.
It had been a struggle tracking him down, it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. But you weren’t yet ready to give up.
You had meant it, you would find the boy. Even if it was the last thing you ever did.
And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance
Picking up the Daily Prophet, you shoveled a spoonful of eggs into your mouth and began reading.
The news had long since slowed down, and tried to move on from the war by talking about it. As if that would erase it from everyone else’s memory. As if it never happened.
It was quite boring, the new players for a quidditch team, some Ministry of Magic mishap with the muggle thing called hand sanitizer mixed with a hair growing potion.
But then you got to the last page.
The reporters finally got a full list of everybody that passed on during the war. Names on random spots of the page jumped at your eyes in sharp, dangerous pangs.
James Potter. Lily Potter. Marlene McKinnon. Fabian Prewett. Gideon Prewett-
You harshly pushed away from the table, not paying any mind to the high pitched scraping sound it made against the floor, and your breathing picked up.
You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t be here, not without them. Not without them. Not without them. Not without-
Harry.
You needed to find Harry. He was the only thing that would keep you grounded. And if you didn’t find him soon, you don’t know what you would do. What you would live to regret.
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
After finishing buttoning up your cloak, you let out a sigh, slowly letting your eyes drift to the dresser in the corner of the room, the one that held a picture on its surface.
In it, you were jumping on James’s back making funny faces, stuck in a timeless loop of happiness.
What the camera hadn’t picked up on was Mia and Fleamonts smiling faces behind the flash, capturing the moment for all of eternity.
It was one of the only photos you could stomach to keep on display.
But February made me shiver
Finally. You had finally done it.
Frozen, you stood before the plain brown door with unseeing eyes and a mile-a-minute mind.
Harry James Potter was sitting just beyond this door.
You had finally been able to track him down with mountains of spells and potions that had taken months to go through. You had a first gone to Dumbledore, hoping he would give you any indication as to where your nephew was, but he offered you nothing, claiming it was safer that way. You had proceeded to storm out of the room, slamming the door harsh enough to shake the walls behind you.
The wind rushed against your skin like a swarm of needles, and you shuddered a little, officially breaking out of your thoughts and you raised your fist to knock on the door.
With every paper I'd deliver
You couldn’t believe your own eyes, not as you stared down at one year old Harry in your arms, staring up at you with wide eyes and an even wider, gummy smile.
You hadn’t wasted another second after standing on the Dursleys doorstep to storm in wand ablaze and demand you take your nephew.
The cowards didn’t even put up a fight as they let you take him, but you wouldn’t complain- you were able to get in and out without any trouble.
Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step
“Auny Y/n! Auny Y/n!” Young Harry babbled, making grabby motions with his chubby hands up at you from his crib.
You smiled softly, reaching your arm out and allowing his tiny fingers to wrap around your much larger ones.
The second a knock sounded through your home, your entire body stiffened and your hand automatically went to the wand you kept in your pocket at all times.
Turning on your heel, you left your giggling nephew behind as you slowly crept towards the front door, unsure of what was awaiting you on the other end.
Tentatively, you peered through the small window near the door and let out a sigh of relief, stance automatically relaxing as you opened it to reveal the headmaster of Hogwarts. Though you were still angry with him for not revealing Harry’s location, at least it was him and not anyone else.
“What do you want, Albus?” You asked, long since having stopped using teacher-student formalities.
He looked up at you with sad eyes, “I-“
Harry let out a particularly loud babble behind you, and your body once again stiffened.
What if he tried to take Harry away from you? What if you couldn’t stop him? What if-
“First of all,” His tone softened, “How is young Harry doing?”
You eyed the man skeptically, “He’s doing fine,”
He chuckled lightly, “I assure you, I’m not here to take him away, Miss. Potter.” His words made you calm down once more, “But I am afraid I come bearing bad news.”
It was like someone was playing with an on and off switch with your emotions, allowing you to think everything was okay before flipping the switch teasingly.
“I understand that you haven’t always been the closest with Sirius Black,”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “No,” You admitted, “Not like James is-was, but he’s still my friend.” You cleared your throat slightly at the small error you made.
“I’m afraid Mr. Black has been sent to Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew.”
You didn’t know if it was possible to have your heart torn into any more pieces than it already had been. But if it was possible, then that’s exactly what happened to you in that moment.
Though you and Sirius hadn’t in fact been very close, you had been there for him when he moved into your house that one summer after things got really bad with his parents. The two of you could always joke around in a class together and be comfortable around each other.
You never could have pictured him killing one of his best friends- even though you barely knew the other boy. From what you saw though, Peter was a sweet and gentle kid that would do anything for his friends. Just like how Sirius used to bed
“I shall leave you alone once more,” Albus declared softly, “And Miss. Potter?” He called after a silent moment. “I truly am sorry for everything.”
You slammed the door in his face.
I can’t remember if I cried, when I read about his widowed bride
For the first time in weeks, you picked up the Daily Prophet after being able to put Harry down for his first nap in a while, that boy was as stubborn as his father.
You casually flipped through the pages, skimming over the sections that went on about quidditch matches finally starting up again after the war. What you hadn’t expected to see, was the grinning faces of your brother and sister in law on the last page.
Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes went wide when you realized that it was a tribute to the two of them from some of their friends from their time in Hogwarts. Some kids that knew them well enough to be friendly, but not enough to have any right to print a long section in the paper about how impactful their lives were.
It felt as though your lungs were closing in on themselves as you stared down with watered eyes at the words. You thought you had gotten over it. You thought you would be able to move on.
But seeing the page-long writing about them pushed you over the edge and you dropped the paper as you collapsed to the ground with a sob.
You reached a hand up to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake Harry, who was sleeping soundly in the other room over.
Apparently you weren’t quiet enough though, because Harry’s cries soon joined yours, alerting you of his newly awoken form.
Quickly, you reached up and harshly wiped your tears away. You wouldn’t let your own grief get in the way of taking care of Harry. You were going to do everything in your power to look after the boy to the best of your ability.
“Hey, Harry,” You smiled softly as you entered the room, bending down and scooping him into your arms, “It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m here now.”
But something touched me deep inside, the day the music died
“Auntie! Auntie!” Harry cheered, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled into the room, “Look! Look!”
You raised your head with an amused twinkle in your eyes as you moved your gaze to meet his, “What is it?”
Grinning wildly, he took a large eveleope from behind his back and presented it to you, “It’s my Hogwarts acceptance letter!”
Pride and happiness swelled and whirrled around in your chest and you broke out into a grin that was similar to his, “Oh, good job, Harry!” You cried, wrapping your nephew into a tight hug that he excitedly returned.
“Merlin, I can’t believe I’m going to Hogwarts,” Harry rambled, “I mean, after all the stories you’ve told I feel like I’ve already been there, but it’s still-“
“Harry,” You cut him off with a small laugh, pulling away and putting your hands on his shoulders, “Do you know what this means?”
He shook his head, messy hair that was much like James’s flopping back and forth, “What?” There was curiosity in his voice.
Your grin widened, “It means that we need to take a trip to Diagon Alley!”
The boy let out a cheer, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.
With that, the two of you took the floo network and began shopping around for any and everything that he could possibly need during his year, all while memories of the past tickled the back of your mind. Of the summers before every September that you and your family would spend roaming these very streets.
As the two of you sat down at a small table with some ice cream, you couldn’t help the small, sad smile you sent Harry’s way.
“Wha’?” He asked through a mouthful of the food.
You shook your head softly, “This just reminds me of times with your father.” You admitted in a small whisper.
He smiled understandably and reached over to squeeze your hand, “It’s alright, Aunt Y/n.” He comforted, “Because you have me now.”
You gave him a teary smile and patted his hand appriciantly, “Thank you, Harry.” You reached over with your other hand and ran it through his messy locks, “I know I do.”
So bye-bye, Miss American Pie
“Your grandmother always used to fuss over me and your father like this,” You mumbled, dusting imaginary lint off of Harry’s shirt, “I can't believe I’m turning into my mother.”
The boy smiled, “Getting more like an old lady every day.” He teased.
You scowled, reached up and lightly slapped him upside the head, “Watch it,” You mockingly scolded, “Or else I’ll make you live in the closet under the stairs when you get home.”
His grin widened and he reached over and wrapped his arms around your waist, “I’ll see you at Christmas.” He mumbled into your shirt.
Harshly, you blinked away tears that had begun to fill your eyes, not wanting to cry in front of your nephew over something as simple as him leaving to go to Hogwarts.
“I shouldn’t be crying, right?” You mumbled into his ear.
He pulled away with a laugh and shrugged, “I don’t mind.”
You smiled at him through your blurry vision and reached up to cup his cheek, “I want you to write all the time. Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need anything. I mean it, Harry.”
“I will.” He promised, hugging you quickly again so you could kiss the top of his head before standing back and picking up his bag, “I better go before the express leaves without me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” You cleared your throat, “Good idea.”
“I love you, Auntie!” He called before disappearing into the crowd.
“Love you too,” You whispered to the empty place he had once been standing in.
“Oh, darling.” The familiar voice of none other than Molly Weasley cooed, making her way over to where you stood and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder, “First year is always hard.”
You let out a watery chuckle, “I don’t know how you’ve done this so many times.” You admitted.
“It’s still hard,” She confessed, “But it started to get a bit easier over time.” She turned her head to smile at you, “I’m just glad that Ron and Harry are together.”
You hummed in agreement, glad that he was with the childhood friends that he met in nursery school, causing you and the rest of the family to grow close as well over the years. Well, after they got over the fact that he was The Harry Potter, that is.
“I’m gonna miss him,” You mumbled.
“I know, but he’s going to do so well at Hogwarts. You’re going to be so proud of him.” The woman reassured you.
You smiled at her, “Both of them are gonna make us really proud.” Bringing her son into this as well.
Molly shook her head helplessly, “It’s either that or we will be getting a letter for their expulsion in a week.”
“Fred and George made it this far.” You teased with a small snigger.
She threw her head back with a laugh, “Indeed they did.”
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
You smiled widely at the letter that sat in your hands, reading and rereading everything that Harry had to tell you about his first week at school.
About the new friends he made, the adventures he already had in Gryffindor house, and even some of the enemies he made. Though, you couldn’t fault him for hating any son of Lucius Malfoy.
What you had said to Molly was true, you were going to miss Harry. But Hogwarts would be good for him. He would be able to make memories just like you had. The good and the bad.
Not only that, but he wouldn’t have a war to worry about. He would be able to enjoy being a kid within the walls.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
“Happy Christmas!” You and Harry cheered in sync the moment you stepped through the doors of the Burrow, piles of presents in your arms.
“Oh, Happy Christmas!” Molly cried happily, coming around the corner and beginning to help you with everything, “Boys!” She snapped, “Come help the Potters with their things!” Before smiling kindly at the two of you once more, emitting laughs from your lips.
“Thank you, Ron.” You breathed out once he took a particularly heavy wrapped box before turning and nodding in greeting to Arthur, “Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, yourself.” The man chirped back while grinning and pulling Harry into a quick side hug before ushering the two of you into the living room where the rest of the Weasley children sat.
Quickly, they all scrambled up at the sight of the two of you and you all exchanged hugs and joyful greetings.
“Can we please do the presents now, mum?” Ginny whined, “We’ve been waiting all morning!”
Her mother looked down at her sternly, but you were quick to wrap an arm around Mollys shoulder and smile at her, “Come on, Mol, it’s Christmas!”
“Yeah! Listen to Aunt Y/n!” Fred piped up, George nodding along with his twin.
“Oh, alright,” Even Molly couldn’t hide the smile that sat upon her features as she said it though, “Pass them out, all of you.”
You looked up in surprise and slightly wide eyes when Ron shyly handed you a gift, “This is for you,” He mumbled.
“O-oh, thank you, Ron.” You said genuinely, not having expected anything at all.
As soon as you opened it, tears began to fill your eyes when you saw the contents. It was a sweater with your first initial sewn into it.
“I know I normally just do it for the kids,” Molly spoke, “But I figured you could use one too.”
You bit down on your lip slightly, running a hand gently down the soft fabric. It reminded you of when your own mother used to knit, “Thank you, Mol.” You whispered, thankful that the children were too preoccupied with their own gifts to realize what was going on.
“Oh, come now. Cheer up,” She rubbed your back comfortingly, “It’s Christmas.”
You smiled over at her, leaning your head against her shoulder, “Thank you.” You repeated.
Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"
“What the bloody hell happened?” You demanded as soon as you slammed open the doors to the Hospital Wing and stormed into the room with a cloud of rage sitting over your head.
“Ah, Miss. Potter. So nice of you to join us.” Dumbledore spoke, standing up from beside your nephew's bed, where he lay unconscious. The man spoke in such a way as if you had simply run into each other at the grocery store.
“Cut the bullshit, Albus.” You snapped with a deadly glare set on your face, “Your letter only told me that Harry was unconscious. You didn’t tell me a single thing about how he ended up unconscious.”
He sighed, cutting right to the chase, “I am afraid that Voldemort has returned.”
You froze in your steps, heart hammering mercilessly against your rib cage, “What did you just say?” As if he would change his words by your tone alone.
“This might be a conversation best had while sitting down-“ He gestured to some visitor chairs.
“I much prefer to stand.” You seethed, unable to slow your racing thoughts.
So the headmaster explained.
Voldemort. The man who slaughtered everyone you loved in the name of his pathetic war- and almost succeeded with taking Harry- was back and he went after your nephew again to try and seek revenge.
“I thought Hogwarts was safe.” It wasn’t hard to miss the way you had shifted your body so that you were standing in front of Harry’s bed, as if you alone could create a wall of protection around the boy, “This is supposed to be a place that will protect him.”
“Indeed,” Was the only answer you were offered.
You scoffed, “I hope you know that he will not be returning next year after all this.”
“Are you sure that is wise?” The older man asked with a single raised eyebrow, “It is your choice Miss. Potter, but don’t you think that it’s better for Harry to be surrounded by some of the finest witches and wizard staff who will now keep a closer eye on him?”
That made you hesitate.
“You alone can’t protect the boy from the world.” He continued.
Slowly, you turned your head to stare down at Harry, who’s steady rise and fall of his chest was the only thing indicating that he was still alive.
This will be the day that I die
“I don’t like this,” You mumbled, crossing your arms over yourself as your eyes flitted around the train station.
He sighed, “I know, Aunt Y/n, but I think Dumbledore was right, Hogwarts is the safest place for me to be.”
Finally, you met his eyes and sighed, dropping your arms to the side, “I know,” You admitted, “But that still doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”
Harry gave you his best attempt at a smile, “I know.”
“Here,” You reached forward and plucked his glasses off his face before rubbing them softly against your shirt and placing them back on the bridge of his nose once you deemed them clean enough, “Remember what I said?”
“Notify you the minute anything seems off.” He repeated the words you had drilled into his head over and over again over summer break.
“Right,” You breathed out, “Now, are you sure you still want to go-“
“Yes.” He smiled a little bit, “I’ll be fine. I have Ron and Hermione.”
You huffed a bit, “I know that, but-“
“Auntie.” He spoke sternly, “You don’t need to worry, it’ll be fine.”
You were silent for a moment, before you put your hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, alright.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Did you write the Book of Love?
“This is the second time,” You ranted angrily, pacing up and down Dumbledore's office, “This is the second time in two years that Harry was put into immediate danger in this school.”
Albus sighed, eyes following you back and forth, “I assure you, it was never my intention to put him in any harms way-“
“I never said it was.” You rounded on him, “But it still seemed to happen under your watch.”
He pursed his lips together, “That is very true.”
You reached up and ran a hand through your hair in frustration, “What am I supposed to do now? You claim that Hogwarts is still the safest place for him, but he was attacked in this building twice.”
“I assure you, Miss. Potter, necessary precautions will be taken to ensure the safety of him and all of the other children.”
You glared at him, “I was told something like that last time. But then Harry was still attacked by a basilisk.”
It was silent for a moment before he spoke up again, “I didn’t tell you this before because I didn’t want to further worry you nor Harry, but there is a possibility that Voldemort is still out there.”
You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, “But you said after last year-“
“I know what I said,” He agreed, “But there is a large chance that I was wrong.”
Your eyes snapped over to meet his, “Having him here is better than having him outside of here if he decides to come for him again.” You whispered quietly.
Albus nodded, “My thoughts exactly.”
Slowly, you nodded and turned to leave, but paused with your hand on the doorknob, “Let’s not tell Harry yet. Just in case it’s not true.”
“You have my word.”
With that, you exited the office, softly shutting the door behind you.
And do you have faith in God above?
“Remus,” You froze, breathing out the name almost as if you didn’t believe that you were saying it.
“Y/n,” He was in a similar state to yours, staring at you with wide eyes, neither one of you paying any mind to the commotion of the platform going on around you.
The two of you hadn’t talked since that day you shoved him away while grieving for James. Sure, he tried to reach out from time to time, but ultimately decided that space was what you had needed the best.
You swallowed, “What- what are you doing here.”
“I’m going to be the new defense against the dark arts professor.” He informed you while clearing his throat, “It’s good to see you.” He added after a moment.
You shook away your shock and decided upon smiling kindly at the man, “You too, Remus, you too.”
“Is…” He trailed off, seeming to try and find the right words.
“Harry just got onto the train with some friends.” You informed him, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.
“Third year?” You nodded your head and he let a small breath loose, “It feels like we were just his age.”
Your smile turned sad, “We might as well have been.”
The train whistled and both of you turned to look at it.
“I should go.” He spoke, giving you one of his famously kind smiles.
Your face turned serious, “Listen, Remus. I know that I’m in no place to be asking for favors, but-“
“Of course I’ll watch over Harry.” He said softly, “And not just for James. For you too.” He looked you in the eyes to show his sincerity.
“Thank you.”
He shook his head, beginning to walk backwards towards the train, “There’s no need to thank me.”
It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest because even though you hadn’t spoken to the man in years, you knew that he was one of the only people alive that you would trust with not just yours, but Harry’s life as well.
If the Bible tells you so
You gripped the Daily Prophet tightly, eyes scanning over the same line again and again. The one that read that Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban.
The very man that had not only betrayed Lily and James, but had also killed Peter right afterwards. And now he was loose and running amok in Merlin knows where.
As long as he stayed far away from Harry, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Even after all he did. It was best not to dwell on the man who had taken everything from you, it would only consume your entire being.
Do you believe in rock 'n' roll?
You crept up the creaking stairs of the Shrieking Shack after receiving a vague letter from Remus that you had no reason not to wholeheartedly believe.
He would never under any circumstances lie about Sirius Black not being the traitor that you all thought him to be. That Peter was really it and he was still alive. You knew you could believe it because James and Lily’s deaths are nothing to joke about, and Remus more than anyone knew that. So that’s why you had snuck into Hogwarts and were meeting him here.
As soon as you reached the top of the stairs, your eyes locked onto Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all cowering in a corner of a top room and you rushed to their sides. Immediately, you reached out to cup Harry and Ron’s cheeks as your eyes scanned over Hermione for any sign of injury.
“Are you guys alright?” You asked worriedly.
Without a word your nephew guestered shakily to a figure behind you, and you whipped around to face what he was so scared of.
Remus standing beside none other than Sirius Black.
Though he was dirty and had changed so, so much from the last time you had seen one another, you didn’t hesitate to spring forward and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a hug.
True, you had never been as close to him as your brother had. But you still spent most of your summers with him and he had once been someone you could consider a friend. And you didn’t have many of those now adays.
“What are you doing?” Ron shrieked in horror before either you or the man could get a word in to one another after pulling away, “He’s trying to kill us.”
“No, he is not, Mr. Weasley.” Remus explained patiently, “But I am afraid that there is another being in this room that is.”
“A-Auntie?” Harry asked shakily, “What’s going on?”
Before you could respond, a rat you hadn’t even noticed leapt forward and transformed into a man midair. A man you knew to be Peter Pettigrew.
The sight of him alone made you see red. Every bit of pain, grief, and despair that you had felt within the last thirteen years all coming to crash down on you at once because it was all due to him. He was the reason James was dead.
Ignoring Sirius’s hand that flew out to stop you, you stormed over and grabbed Peters collar with so much power that the large man was left stumbling, and pulled out your wand, jabbing it painfully into his neck.
“You dirty little rat.” You seethed, “How dare you,” You took a deep breath and repeated the question, shouting it at the top of your lungs this time. You missed the way the three children flinched at the suddenness of it.
You sensed the two men coming to stand at your sides.
“I’m going to kill you for what you did.” There was no threat behind your words, it was only a clear statement.
Gently, Remus guided your hand down, “He’ll pay for what he did.” He whispered the promise in your ear, “By sending him to Azkaban.”
You didn’t reply, just pushed your wand into his neck harder, making him whimper pathetically.
“Harry doesn’t need you going to prison too.” Sirius muttered from beside you, and those words finally made you pause.
You glanced over to where he stood, being held back from springing forward to help you by his friends, and you finally, reluctantly released your death grip on Peter.
As soon as you let go though, you reeled your fist back and sent it flying forward until you heard a satisfying crunch and a scream of pain from the traitor.
Without a look back, you allowed Remus and Sirius to grab either arm and begin to drag the struggling man out and you went to the trio that was still in the corner.
“Are you all alright?” You repeated your earlier question.
“Was that him? The man that turned my parents in?” Were Harry’s only words.
Ron and Hermione silently exchanged glances before slipping out of the room to give the two of you some space.
Biting down on your lip, you nodded your head and immediately wrapped your arms around the boys shaking form, “Yeah, yeah it was.”
“Did you almost kill him?” His words were slightly muffled through where he was resting his head against your shirt.
“Yes,” You didn’t even try to lie to him, “And I would have if I wasn’t reminded that you still needed me out here, not needing me to be thrown into Azkaban.”
He looked up at you with tear filled eyes, “But that’s where he’s going?”
You sighed and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. That’s where he’s going.”
Can music save your mortal soul?
“I miss James.” Sirius spoke up after a comfortable silence had been sitting over the two of you for many moments.
You hummed, glancing at the man from the corner of your eye, “Yeah, I do too.” You said quietly.
You both sat a little bit away from the group, staring up at Hogwarts, so beautiful and lit up at night.
Neither of you spoke for another minute before you blurted out, “I’m sorry.”
He turned to you with furrowed eyebrows, “What for?”
“I didn’t at first…” You spoke hesitantly, “But I guess over time I began to believe that you really had betrayed them.” You shook your head roughly with a scoff, “There was just not other explanation and I couldn’t let myself live like that anymore. Going it over again and again in my head without end to try and figure out what really happened-“
“Hey,” He cut you off by placing a hand on your shoulder, “It’s alright, Y/n. I get it, I promise you, I do.”
“It’s still not fair to you.” You whispered.
“Maybe not,” He agreed, “But at least now we both can rest knowing that we put away the man that really betrayed them.”
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
You let curiosity take over and you blindly let your feet begin to walk by themselves towards the kitchen, where music appeared to be floating from.
Pausing at the entrance, you took in the sight before you. Harry was gently bobbing his head up and down to the music that played out of an old music player that sat on the counter as he made cookies a few feet away.
“This was your father’s favorite song,” You made your presence known with a small voice.
He startled, eyes whipping up to you frantically before relaxing when he realized it was just you, “Really?” He asked.
You nodded, “He would drive me and mum crazy by blasting it in his room with Sirius. They would sing at the top of their lungs to see who would get yelled at first between the two of them. It was always James though.” A fond smile played at the ends of your lips.
“Sirius didn’t tell me he liked this song.” He said, resuming his previous activities.
“Eh,” You waved it off, “There’s too many memories we have with your father to keep them all straight.”
He laughed lightly at that, “Wanna help with the cookies?”
You smiled and went to stand beside him, listening to your brother’s favorite song.
Well I know that you're in love with him
“Aunt Y/n?” Harry called hesitantly, shuffling into your room.
“What’s up?” You asked, looking up from your book with a raised eyebrow.
The boy's cheeks turned red and he began stuttering, “U-uh, how- how do I tell a girl that- that I l-like her?” He looked like he was about to die from embarrassment.
Immediately, you snapped your book shut and patted the empty spot on your bed next to you for him to sit down, which he did.
“Who is it?” You asked automatically, a small smirk pulling at the ends of your lips.
Quickly, he shot out of his seat, “You know what, this was a bad idea-“
“Hey, hey, no.” You stopped smirking, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just excited, is all. Tell me about her.”
“Her- her name is Cho,” He mumbled, eyes averted to where he was fiddling with his fingers, “And I really like her but I don’t know what to do.”
You smiled softly, wrapping your arm around the boys shoulder and pulling him down onto the bed beside you, “Just tell her how you feel.” You told him, “That’s the best thing you can do. No big gestures or confusing signals, just the honest truth.”
“What if she doesn’t like me back?” He looked up at you as he softly spoke the question.
You squeezed his shoulders lightly, “Then she’s an idiot.” You reassured him.
He laid there for a moment, taking in your words before nodding along slightly, “Thank you,” He mumbled.
You playfully poked his side, “Look at my little boy growing up.” You teased.
Harry scoffed a bit, cheeks tinting red again as he tried to push your hands away, “Shut up.” He protested weakly.
“Hey,” You pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “Let me know how it goes. Okay, bud?”
He nodded, standing up and quickly scurrying out of the room to be saved from any further embarrassment.
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym
“The Triwizard Tournament?” You burst out, leaning back in your chair and running a hand through your hair, “What kind of bullshit is that?”
Harry grimaced, “I kinda don’t have a choice in it, Aunt Y/n.”
You rubbed two hands down your face before looking down at your nephew through the floo network, “I know, but why does it always have to be you?”
“Because I'm special?” He weakly joked.
A scoff escaped your lips, “Yeah, that’s special alright… Just- just promise me that you’re gonna be careful.”
“Of course I will,” He reassured you before shaking his head and laughing to himself, “I feel like this is the only conversation we ever have.”
“That,” You glared pointedly at him, “Is because of your father. The two of you always seem to attract trouble, whether you want to or not.”
You both kicked off your shoes
“He-he was killed right-right in front of me-“ Harry sobbed into your arms as you gently rocked him back and forth, tears of your own sitting in your eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You kept mumbling over and over again into his hair, where you had buried your face.
He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to him or anything that he was forced to live through. And of course, the Triwizard Tournament just had to be added to that list, and Voldemort was really back this time.
“Cedric is gone,” He choked out, hands gripping onto your arms tightly- desperately- as if they were a lifeline for him.
“I know, I know,” You blinked and tears slipped down your face, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Then I dig those rhythm and blues
“We’re getting the Order back together,” Sirius informed you, leaning back in his chair with a small grin, “So I suppose I’m here to recruit you.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Because the last Order ended so well.” You shot out sarcastically.
The man’s smile faltered, “It’ll be different this time.”
For some reason, those words only made you angrier, and you harshly pushed back your chair and stood up, pointing accusingly at him with a glare , “In what sense?” You hissed, “In the sense that I don’t have a brother to lose anymore? In the sense that it’s just another war?”
He shook his head from side to side sadly, clearly trying not to take your words to heart, “In the sense that you have Harry to think about and look after this time.”
That made you freeze, just like he knew it would, and you dropped back down into your seat, “Shit,” You cursed softly, running a hand through your hair.
“We will win this time,” He told you confidently, reaching out and squeezing your hand, “We’ll avenge James, Lily, and everyone else that we lost the first time around.”
Hesitantly, you began nodding, “Fine, I’m in.”
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
“What the hell were you thinking?” You shouted over the chaos, eyes panickingly sweeping over Harry for any sign of pain, your hands tightly gripping his shoulders.
All around you, Order members and Death Eaters shot curses at one another with no sign of slowing.
“I- I thought he had you and Sirius,” The boy quickly explained, “I couldn’t reach either of you and it was driving me crazy, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing.”
“Why would Voldemort have brought us to the Ministry?” You hissed at his idiocy before sighing heavily and stepping back slightly, “Okay, okay, I would’ve done the same. I’m sorry for getting mad.”
Tears began to fill his eyes, “I’m sorry for coming here.”
“Hey, hey,” You rushed to comfort him, “It’s not your fault.”
“Y/n!” Sirius called with a grunt from nearby, narrowly blocking a curse thrown his way, “I hate to break up your little Potter reunion, but I could use some help over here!”
With one last smile at Harry, you tightened your grip on your wand and took off in Sirius’s direction, the sound of footsteps behind you letting you know that he had followed you.
Quickly, you threw a stunning curse towards Sirius opponent, sending him flying back into a nearby wall.
“It’s just like old times!” Only Sirius could grin that wildly despite the circumstances.
You scoffed playfully as Harry joined the two of you, both blocking two separate curses in sync, “If this were like old times, then you’d be owing me a drink for saving you!” You teased.
For a split second, he diverted his attention away from the task at hand to smile wider at you, “Maybe I’ll get you one-“
He was cut off by a blinding flash of green being sent directly to his chest.
Both of you froze in sync and you were forced to watch with your feet glued to the ground as he looked between you and Harry with a small smile before his body was pulled into a nearby veil.
Your blood curling scream sounded through the room long before Harry’s did, and you were practically numb to the arm that Remus wrapped around both of you as you each sobbed violently.
You weren’t even able to register the way the man himself was shaking with tears, but he didn’t let up his grip on you and Harry.
How many more times did this have to happen for you to become immune? How many more people did you have to lose before you stopped shedding tears in their names?
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
With a shaky sigh, you dropped the pink carnation bouquet that you had picked out into a vase you and filled with water and let it rest on the counter, where you then let your head fall and rest upon.
“What’s with the flowers?” Harry piped up softly from behind you.
You raised your head to look at the beautiful plants slightly before signing again, “When Sirius first moved in with us, he didn’t know how he could ever thank my parents for what they had done for him. So he started doing little things to say thank you, meaningful things. One of them was picking a bundle of these types flowers that grew nearby the house and bringing them to my mother, getting her new ones every time the others died.”
He nodded in understanding, gazing at the pink leaves, “They’re beautiful.”
A hum of agreement left your lips, “My mother thought so too.”
But I knew I was out of luck
“With your bad luck, I’m surprised you three idiots made it this long.” You informed them with a small, playful scoff.
Hermione smiled a little bit, “Yeah, me too.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m grateful for it!” Ron squeaked, and frowned a bit as the three of you laughed.
“Auntie, we have to get on the express.” Harry said softly.
You nodded a little bit, pursing your lips, “I know.”
“We’ll be careful,” Hermione promised, and you smiled softly at her while cupping her cheek, rubbing your finger up and down subconsciously.
“Oh, come here.” You quickly pulled all three children into a tight group hug before kissing every one of them on the tops of their heads.
The day the music died
“What happened that night?” You whispered, watching as Harry’s eyes glazed over quickly and his defenses went up.
He shrugged stiffly, and though you felt guilty for asking, you needed to know what really went down at Hogwarts the night that Dumbledore was killed. You needed to know how much Harry would be affected by it and how negative that affect would be.
“Harry,” You begged with a soft whisper, “I just want to help you.”
“I know,” He admitted with a sigh, dropping his head against the back of the couch you both sat on in your living room.
Silence fell over you for a few minutes that consisted of you chewing on your bottom lip nervously before he finally spoke up again, “We need to prepare for a war.”
His words made your head snap over to him in alarm, “Don’t talk like that,”
“It’s true,” He insisted, turning his body to face you, “After everything that’s been happening, we both know it’s coming.”
You shook your head stubbornly, tears filling in your eyes, “Don’t you talk like that,” You warned through gritted teeth, “Your parents died so you would never have to live through a war like we did.”
He sighed, reaching over and wrapping his arms around you, “I know,” He whispered into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest, “But it’s true. And I’d rather fight and defend others than not and watch them die.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, “But you're just kid.”
“I know.”
“It’s not fair.”
“…I know.”
“Please reconsider this, Harry.” You turned so you were staring up at him with wide eyes, “I know that I’m not your parent, but please, don’t go through with this. This isn’t what they would want for you.”
“Would they prefer I stand by and do nothing?” You fell silent, “They fought in the first war, and if they were still alive, they would fight in this one in a heartbeat… you know I’m right.”
You dropped your head in defeat, because you did know that he was right.
“Then I’m fighting with you,” You sat up.
He was quick to shake his head, “I don’t want you getting hurt-“
“You forget that I’m the adult here, Harry.” You reminded him sternly, “And if I can’t stop you from doing this, then you can’t stop me either.”
Slowly, he nodded, “Okay… okay… We’ll do this together.”
I started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie
You gripped your wand tightly as your eyes scanned the forest back and forth, you quickly glanced behind you at the sound of leaves crunching.
“Under different circumstances,” You spoke as Harry sat beside you, “This place would be beautiful.”
He hummed in agreement, looking around as well.
The tent that Ron and Hermoine were in rested a few yards back, where they hopefully were sleeping off the craziness of the day.
“Your mother would kill me if she knew I wasn’t sending you to school this year,” You laughed softly at your own words.
Harry chuckled beside you, kicking at the ground a little bit when his smile faded, “I wish I didn’t have to drag you all into this.” His face was twisted up with guilt.
“Hey,” You grabbed onto his hand and shook it slightly, “This was our choice, we all knew what we were getting into. But we all love you, so it’s gonna be worth it.”
“What if one of us doesn’t make it?” He wondered out loud, voice barely above a whisper.
All at once, your body stiffened, “Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s true though!” He cried, “What if Ron, Hermione, or-or y-you die because I dragged you into this?”
“And what if we hadn’t come along?” You rounded on him, “What then? Would it have been you that died?” You asked furiously, “I would die in a heartbeat to keep you safe- all of you.”
He paled at your words, looking slightly nauseated, “You can’t die.” He whispered.
“Then we’re going to drop this discussion.” You determined, “And neither of us are going to think about it again. Got it?”
He nodded numbly and you sighed, “Come ‘ere,” You muttered, wrapping your arm around him.
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
The snow fell gently across the town that you had once viewed as beautiful. That is, until your brother and sister in law moved into a certain quaint house and your entire life was flipped upside down.
You swallowed harshly, fighting with every bone in your body not to turn around and sprint in the other direction with every step forward that you took.
Hermione and Ron had gone off to a small coffee shop, muttering about giving you and Harry some space.
The boy had his arm tightly locked around yours and he seemed to be struggling just as much as you were, both of you with your feet frozen right in front of the cemetery.
“I haven’t visited this place,” You admitted with a guilty whisper, “Not once. I didn’t even show up to the funeral. I couldn’t.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asked you hesitantly, eyeing you sideways.
You forced a tight smile on your face and gave him one nod of confirmation, “It’s about time I said goodbye for real.” Before adding, “Both of us.”
With that, arm in arm, you slowly made your way past the gravestones until you came upon two side by side with the names of Lily and James Potter printed across them.
You inhaled sharply at the sight of it, blinking away tears, knowing that they would freeze instantly on your face if you let them loose.
Slowly, Harry took out his wand and muttered a small spell that Hermione no doubt taught him, and a bundle of pink carnations appeared on each of their graves.
A watery laugh left your lips at his actions, causing a small smile to pull at the ends of his own lips, “They’re beautiful, Harry.”
He rested his head against the top of yours and you each silently said your own goodbyes to the ones that you lost.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
“Look! They’re here! They’re here!” Students all around you cheered, and you couldn’t help but feel a slight spark of happiness at the looks of hope and joy on their faces.
When you and the children had returned to Hogwarts to finish what had been started, you hadn’t expected all of these students to begin cheering your names as they finally got their first sign of hope in seemingly months.
As your eyes scanned through the sea of kids, you knew that you couldn’t let them down. They had all lost so much, being forced to go through what you and your peers had back then in some ways, and you would be damned if you let them suffer any longer.
Glancing over at Harry, you knew instantly that he had the same thoughts.
Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"
“No!” You screamed so loud that it felt like your throat was ripping, but you could barely feel it over the pain in your heart, “No! No! No!”
Molly let out a sob, quickly wrapping her arms around you to stop you from running forward towards the Death Eaters at the sight of Harry’s limp body in Hagrid’s arms.
“Harry Potter is dead!” Voldemort announced with a malicious grin, thoroughly enjoying watching as your entire world came crashing down right on top of you, suffocating your lungs.
It felt as though he held your heart in his disgusting hands and was squeezing it in an agonizingly painful way.
Arthur had to make his way over and wrap an arm around you as well, your sheer strength from anger and denial making it impossibly difficult for Molly to hold you alone.
You couldn’t even hear the rest of what The Dark Lord had to say over your hopeless, despair-filled cry’s that raked through your entire body violently.
Harry was the only thing that had kept you going after all these years, after what happened. And with him being gone now, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go on. Not without him.
Then, without warning, Harry’s body rolled out of Hagrid's hold and he jumped up, locking eyes with you briefly before picking up his wand and pointing it at Voldemort.
You gasped, a large amount of air filling into your lungs for the first time since thinking he was dead, to much in a state of shock to even register the chaos that erupted all around you as everyone sprang into action, firing spell after spell at the opposing side.
When you finally snapped out of it though, you sprang forward and fired a deadly curse towards Voldemort, years of rage and heart brokenness behind it for everyone and everything you lost at his hand.
He barely even glanced at you as he deflected it and sent a light of green straight into your chest.
This will be the day that I die
It was over. The only war was finally over. And for the first time in weeks, Harry felt himself smile as he desperately looked around for you. Despite all the two of you had gone through, at least you would be able to enjoy the new world- one rid of Voldemort- together. A world that was finally safe.
His eyebrows furrowed and he paused in his steps when he caught sight of Hermione, Ron, Molly, and Arthur all standing in a circle in the middle of a hallway, every one of them crying.
He moved forward to see what was the matter, “What is it? What’s wrong-“
Harry cut himself short and he felt all the air get knocked out of his lungs, sending him falling to his knees, “A-auntie?” He stuttered out, mouth running dry as he looked down at your limp form on the ground.
Your lips were parted slightly and your eyes were wide open, staring unseeingly at a nearby pile of rubble.
Everyone’s heads snapped over to him and Molly fell down beside him, wrapping her arms around the boy, “Oh, Harry-“
He immediately shrugged off her hands, instead frowning slightly and beginning to shake your shoulders, “Auntie? Aunt Y/n, wake up.”
All anyone could do was just stand there and watch silently with tears streaming down their faces.
“No,” He choked out when you didn’t stir, “No, wake up. Please, please wake up,” He begged through sobs, “We’re free, we’re finally free. Wake up!”
Nobody left his side, not for a single second of the hour he sat there, screaming- pleading- begging- you to wake up until his throat was raw and scratchy and he fell backwards on his heels.
“All she ever wanted was what was best for me.” The boy whispered, “That's all she ever wanted.”
“Then let’s give her that,” Molly spoke softly, hugging him again, “Honor her by living your life to the fullest. She wanted your happiness more than anything in this world.”
Harry looked down at you once more, the woman that had taken him in on her own free will in order to honor her brother and lost friends. The woman who raised him and taught him everything he knew. The woman who gave him everything. The woman who sacrificed herself so that he could keep living his life.
It’s LeviOsa 🪄- @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777
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matan4il · 5 months
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One correction: It's not GAP (what can you do with automatic translation), it's PIJ, which stands for Palestinian Islamic Jihad, a terrorist organization in Gaza, much smaller than Hamas, but also considered much more extremist.
Three points to take into account:
Even if you believe there's no humane sentiment among Israelis, Israel striking a hospital would be such a PR nightmare, that it really doesn't have any interest to do it.
The number of people killed being reported is unlike anything you've heard from any Israeli airstrike, and there's a reason for it. Hamas knows that hospitals are "protected," that Israel wouldn't strike there, so where do you think Hamas hides its headquarters and its ammunition storage? So once a PIJ rocket launched at Israel, ended up accidentally falling inside the Gaza strip, there's a good chance it hit the munition stored by Hamas in the hospital, causing a much bigger explosion than a few rockets can create on their own, and accounting for the number of dead.
In the past, when Israel did make a mistake and accidentally hit a large number of civilians, it did take responsibility for it. It took Israel quite a while (two hours) to respond to the claims that it was an Israeli strike precisely because IT TAKES TIME to make sure that there hadn't been any accidental strikes at the hospital. It doesn't take time to lie and throw the blame at someone else.
I prefer focusing on what is happening inside Israel, because those are voices that are barely shared online, but I know that Hamas didn't wait to actually find out what happened before blaming Israel, and that hatred for Israel is already being spread on and offline, so... I'm putting this out there.
Update: Here's a vid from Al Jazeera, they were filming Gaza, so they inadvertently filmed the PIJ rocket launched from Gaza, failing mid air, and then falling back down in Gaza, causing the explosion.
Update 2: Thanks to a reblog, I can add a link to even more images showing it was a failed launching within Gaza, with several different sources coming to the same conclusion.
Also, to the nonnie who asked me for a third, neutral party as a source... Al Jazeera is not neutral, it's firmly anti-Israel. They have a live stream of Gaza with clear timestamps. This is even better than a neutral source, because this is a channel with motivation to lie and vilify Israel, yet their footage ended up showing the opposite.
Update 3: There is now a picture from where the hospital took a hit. It seems that it was the parking lot.
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If you click on the pic, it will take you to the Twitter thread, where people are doubting that this was the scene of 500 people dying. I don't know if it was or wasn't, but all casualty numbers coming out of Gaza? They're released by their Health Ministry, which is a part of Gaza's government. And that government is, all of it, Hamas. The same organization that massacred over 1,400 civilians in Israel.
The source is a Hamas-affiliated "news" account on Twitter.
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There's now a video from inside the hospital's chapel, showing it mostly intact (other than the glass windows).
There's also a recording of two Hamas terrorists talking about the strike, where they themselves confirm that it was a rocket misfired by the PIJ. I can't embed another vid in this post, but I linked to the recording with English subtitles.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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ghoulette-knell · 1 month
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A Little Bit Tipsy:
Aether x Fem!Reader
You and Aether have some unspoken tension due to being so close to him throughout the Prequelle tour. A little bit of alcohol proves to loosen your tongue.
🔞MDNI🔞
TW: Drunk/High Sex; Friends to Lovers; Soft!Dom Aether; Hair-Pulling; Marking; Animalistic Sex (honestly from all of the sexual tension); Oral (male receiving); Dirty Talk; Fingering (female receiving); No Protection; Biting.
Word Count: 5,566
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You and Aether, your best friend, were a little bit tipsy. Yeah, a little bit more than tispy...
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The tour that Ghost had spent months travelling around the globe had just concluded for the week, so the two of you decided to drink and celebrate the fantastic performances. There had been some unspoken tensions between you and him for a while now, and you were feeling bold tonight. The two of you have been drinking for a few hours now, and although Ghouls had a higher tolerance for most things than humans, the two of you were beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol.
Aether took a small drink of his beer, which was his favourite beverage. His soft, amber eyes glanced at you through his silver mask as a short stream of foam floated down his glass, "I hope the Cardinal doesn't mind us hanging out. It's so deep in the tour at this point. I know the old man hates when we get distracted or take time off practicing.”
“Screw him,” you mumbled tiredly while leaning back against the couch, taking a shot of whiskey while staring off towards the wall, “I’m getting sick of his schedule for us Ghouls. He likes to believe that we don’t have social lives and we are just mindless drones, here to simply perform in his band.”
You had always been a little bit too outspoken when it came to Copia. Even though you were right in what you said, Aether didn't want to say it out loud and risk getting into trouble.
"I don’t think Cardinal Copia is necessarily in the wrong. He just doesn't care about our social lives. The band is all that matters to him."
Aether let out a small laugh, “And I think it's true. We're all replaceable after all."
You couldn't help but wince at Aether's last sentence. You were all replaceable... all of you.
You had been a member of the band when Ifrit was still the lead guitarist before young Sodo had come along. You and Aether both had been around before Copia had even come around, and Terzo had been the frontman, as well as the anti-pope of the ministry. Yet, so many of your friends had been replaced... Ifrit, Pebble, Omega. The list goes on and on.
None of you even knew why they had been replaced. It was simply done at random, which was what made moments like this scary. Would the Cardinal just replace everyone if they pissed him off?
"I don't like to think about that, Aether," you mumbled while leaning forward and grabbing your freshly-rolled joint off the table.
"I know," Aether responded softly, "But that’s why we can't become too careless and get attached. We'll get hurt that way. It's a damn shame that I'm already pretty attached to you. It'll really suck… if anything happens to either of us.”
He took another sip of his beer before speaking again, "Copia loves to remind us that we can be easily replaced. I get it, he likes having an air of authority over us. He likes to manipulate us into feeling grateful that we're in his band.”
"I want to get attached though," you mumbled, almost inaudible as you flicked your lighter to get your blunt lit, "I want to have lifelong friends in this band. I know I have you, but we have to keep our deep friendship a secret. I don't want to get sent back to Hell if I mess up one too many times. I don't want to get separated from you, Aether. That would be a fate worse than death."
His eyebrows raised at your last sentence. "Worst than death?"
You peered into his eyes and nodded. You meant what you said. You wouldn't get sent back to Hell without Aether. It just simply wasn't something that you would let happen. Not even Lucifer could pull you away from the rhythm guitarist.
Aether's mind was suddenly abuzz with countless thoughts. Was she just saying this because she was inebriated? Or was she genuinely implying something else?
He looked away for a moment, a bit embarrassed by his reddened cheeks, before he looked back to you, "Are you drunk?"
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You hadn't expected this conversation to go in this direction, and honestly, the alcohol was to blame. You rarely let your stressors come afloat, especially around any of the other Ghouls. It was a sign of weakness, and you weren't weak by a longshot. However, you trusted Aether, and the alcohol definitely helped loosen that tongue of yours.
You flicked your tail slightly and took a drag from your blunt, coughing slightly as the smoke hit your lungs, "A little bit, but that doesn't change how I feel about any of this."
Aether seemed surprised by your answer, but you could see in his face that his eyebrow was not raised in judgment at all. Instead, he was taking a good long look at you, as if he was sizing you up. His cheeks were still red, which was a little strange for him.
He laughed softly, not making eye contact with you, "Does that mean you're genuinely afraid of losing me?"
You offered him a hit off of your blunt, unsure about whether or not he would take it. The alcohol was indeed making your tongue a bit looser than normal, but Aether did know how much he meant to you. He had to know how you felt about him.
"Yes. I don't want to ever lose you," you replied without hesitation, "If you got replaced and I was forced to stay in this band without you... I don't know what I would do. Whoever your replacement would be, I would hate them just because they replaced you. You are my best friend."
Aether took the offered joint, still not holding eye contact. This was a new side of you that he had never really seen before. Normally, you would try to hide the fact that you cared about him. You were very stoic whenever it came to things like this.
But tonight, you were telling him. No hiding it. In fact, there was something else there too...
Aether finally met your gaze, taking a long drag from the marijuana before speaking, "You know, you talk about me as if you’re in love with me."
You were completely speechless.
You didn't know how to respond.
Were you in love with Aether? You had always assumed it was some kind of puppy love phase that you were going through, or maybe a way to escape the harsh reality regarding the Satanic ministry that you lived to serve. It was a very stressful atmosphere, after all. Aether always offered a bit of relief, and often grounded you during moments like this.
"You act as if that's a surprise," you whispered after a few seconds, expelling smoke from your mouth and taking a few sips from your alcoholic beverage that sat on the coffee table.
You brain was beginning to buzz, which made your eyes slowly relax and sag.
Aether sat in silence for a couple of seconds. When he finally did speak, it was only to ask a single question. One that he had never asked before. One that had remained unspoken for so, so long.
"Do you love me?"
You licked your lips nervously and adverted your gaze down to the carpeted floor below. Suddenly, you were feeling shy and bashful.
Some thoughts you'd had about this exact moment began to eat at your stomach; scratching at it like a wild, caged animal. What if he wouldn't like you back?
You could handle the rejection. If that was the scenario, that would be manageable. Just swallow your sadness and pride, and keep going on with life as if it never happened. What you couldn't handle was a confession leading to awkwardness, and inevitably the end of your precious friendship with Aether.
This confession was beyond what you ever believed you could say to the other Ghoul.
“I suppose I do, yeah. I do love you, Aether.”
You took another sip of your drink, trying to advert your attention away from that risky confession. The alcohol was beginning to cause a vague cloud of haze to envelop your brain as you sat and waited for his response.
It was an agonizing wait. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.
Aether finally closed his eyes, his cheeks a bright shade of red. His lips curled up into a tiny smile; his little fangs poking from his lips. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell in his chest, even though you weren't exactly looking at him right now.
His breath grew a little bit shaky when he finally spoke up again, but he was still a bit shy to make eye contact for now, "And you're sure this isn't just the drinking talking?"
You slowly brought your eyes back up to meet Aether’s, and shook your head, “You’ve known me for almost a year now, Aether. You have to know how I’ve felt about you all this time.”
Aether hadn’t said he loved you back though. Was he procrastinating? Did he not want to hurt your feelings? Why hadn’t he said it back yet?
His cheeks had grown even redder now. You'd certainly never seen him blush this much before. He laughed a little bit, his eyes now locked with yours, "I guess I thought this might have been a drunk confession... But I should have had a little more faith in you. My apologies."
Finally, he took a deep breath. He couldn't help the feeling of his heart beating so fast in his chest. He finally managed to say it.
"I love you too."
The instant relief that hit your body was unreal. The mix between the adrenaline rush over admitting your love to Aether, as well as the alcohol was slowly sinking away as those three perfect words left the Ghoul’s lips.
“Now it’s my turn to ask… that’s not just the booze talking, right?” you whispered, your cheeks flushing red to perfectly match the shade of red that was on Aether’s cheeks.
Aether couldn't do anything except chuckle. If anything, he was a little bit surprised that you would ask if this was just the alcohol speaking.
"Oh no, this is totally the booze talking," he said jokingly, only to be interrupted by a soft laugh. The colour had drained for your face, as you hadn’t realized off the bat that this was a joke.
The ghoul then quickly closed the distance between you two, making eye contact with you before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.
"No, I'm definitely not drunk… well, I'm a little drunk, but I feel this way sober too. I do love you, and I'm so glad you feel the same about me."
You leaned into his touch immediately. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were almost certain that Aether could hear it.
You couldn’t help it, though. Aether made you flustered no matter what he was doing.
Your cheeks flushed brighter as his lips grazed your forehead; your face turning upwards.
Your lips were only inches away from each other. You could feel Aether’s breath on your face; smell the beer on his breath. You could physically see the drunken desire beginning to cloud over his eyes.
“Are you sober enough to consent to me kissing you?” you asked huskily; your hand cupping his cheek in a loving, yet desirable manner.
Aether was certainly not used to the way you were acting right now. The way that you were leaning into him. Your hand cupping his cheek. The way that your lips were just inches away from his. This was different than usual.
"Am I sober enough?" he smirked, his own hands tracing up to your waist, one wrapping around it and pulling you closer, "I'm not sure. You should probably kiss me just to check. Just to make sure."
You exhaled and leaned forward, the multiple shots of whisky guiding your every move. You felt as if you could start crying from sheer happiness over this moment! This was beyond anything you ever believed could happen. Your lips sheepishly brushed against his; your heart leaping into you throat. Your claws slowly crept around and gripped at Aether's neck as you finally pressed your lips fully onto his. No brushing. No teasing. Right to the point.
Your kisses were certainly a lot more passionate than Aether was used to. It was almost as if you had lost yourself in some kind of trance. Your hands were holding him very tightly, your lips pressed firmly against his. Your lips were very soft and your breath was sweet; a hint of whisky combining with the scent of toothpaste.
The ghoul was surprised at the way that you took the initiative, but you could almost see a glint in his eyes as he kissed you back.
While moaning, you nibbled hungrily on his lips as your kisses quickly morphed into something more hungry… more passionate. Tongues dancing together, you slowly began to climb into Aether's lap, pushing him deeper into the couch. Your breath was coming out in ragged, lustful gasps as you would occasionally abandon the Ghoul's lips for a breath of air. That was rare though. Aether's lips were like the fountain of youth that you had been searching for your entire life. You didn't want to leave it ever again.
"You taste so good," you groaned while sucking on his bottom lip; a mischievous look in your eyes.
Your kisses were certainly making Aether feel things that he had never felt before in his entire life. Never mind the fact that all of this was coming from you—little, shy (Y/N). To see you taking such a brazen initiative was exciting.
As you abandoned his lips again for a breath of air, he chuckled softly, "I love how hungry you are for me right now."
Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.
Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.
Your eyes snapped shut as a small moan left your lips. A chuckle left his lips as Aether pulled roughly on my hair, eating up your reaction. You could see that the beer was making the usually docile and harmless Ghoul turn into something more. The lust in his eyes was unreal, and it excited you more than you ever knew you were capable of.
"A-Aeth!" you groaned, using the nickname you had given him when the two of us originally met all that time ago.
The Ghoul pulled your hair slightly, angling it to the side so your neck would cock with it. His swollen lips (swollen, from how aggressively you were making out with him only moments ago) immediately began to attack your sensitive flesh, leaving little purple and blue bruises on your pale skin.
Aether's eyes were now completely closed as his mouth worked its way up your neck, forcing the sweetest noises to leave your lips. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his and only his. No one should be allowed the joy of having access to your soft, delicate skin.
"That's a good girl," Aether breathed out softly, moving one of his hands to massage your chest. He squeezed softly at your breasts, causing a breath to hitch in your throat. "You love when I mark your flesh, am I right?"
You leaned back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head while adjusting the weight on the rhythm guitarist's lap.
"Y-Yes. I want all the others to know I belong to you," you whispered, your words slightly slurring together thanks to your drunken state, as well as the lust that was pooling in your abdomen, "I l-love when you mark me!"
As he slowly continued caressing your chest, he leaned forward and moved his mouth back to your neck.
"I'm glad you want to belong to me," he murmured, "Now… show me how much you love me."
Your stomach clenched in excitement.
You knew exactly what Aether wanted.
He wanted your mouth.
You slowly kissed his lips one more time; savouring his taste. Then, you slipped off of his lap and got onto your knees on the floor; staring up at the Ghoul in desire. You rested your face on his thigh while squeezing it softly with your hand, "Tell me what you want, then."
Aether had a smug look on his face now. He sat there comfortably, leaning back on the couch, not expecting you to fall to your knees and do as he asked. It was such a sharp contrast from the timid, shy girl you were at first. Now, he could really tell that his words had had an effect on your behaviour. You were certainly behaving as someone completely different right now.
He smirked down at you, his voice laced with excitement, as he responded, "I want to be worshipped."
You purred and allowed your hands to drift upwards towards his belt, "Oh, I can worship you, that's for sure."
You quickly unclasped his belt and unzipped his pants. You could immediately see his white boxers which were holding your prize. You carefully pawed at them to lightly tease the Ghoul, earning a few grunts from his lips. You could already see the blood beginning to pool in his cock, which was only separated from you by that thin fabric.
Aether let out a sharp gasp suddenly as your cold hand dove into his boxers; grasping his cock lightly. As soon as you did, he could feel a rush of heat pool through his body. Your touch was making him feel very hot and tingly. Every inch of his body was pulsing with excitement from your touch.
He let out another soft moan as he watched you completely pull his boxers away, forcing them down to his knees. “You're definitely making me feel like a God right now…"
You giggled innocently while batting your eyelashes up at him as you got a good look at what he was concealing. Your mouth watered slightly; your eyes never leaving his dick.
"I'll worship you more than I worship Lucifer himself, my sweet Aether," you whispered while placing your hands delicately upon his thighs, "I don't care what punishments await me for saying that. You are all I live for, and all I die for."
Aether felt his breath grow hot and heavy.
You leaned on him while carefully grasping his dick in your palm; teasingly stroking it. Your vision was hazy and dark, yet even though you were as drunk as physically possible right now, you knew you wanted this. Aether wanted it too. This was written in the stars. The two of you were handpicked by Lucifer to be a part of the Emeritus ministry, and you were handpicked to be life partners. This was all beyond your understanding, and neither of you were against this.
Aether's eyes were clouded with unbridled lust as he watched you begin to pleasure him,
"Open up, sweetheart," he purred while stroking the side of your face with gentle fingers, "I want to see what else your mouth can do besides sing pretty notes."
Like the obedient Ghoul you were, you complied without hesitation. You firmly grasped Aether's shaft, and slowly licked up the length; from his balls to his tip.
Aether closed his eyes at the sensation, his entire being humming with arousal. He let out a soft moan, his fingers twitching slightly.
Your tongue then began to swirl around Aether’s sensitive flesh, “Mmm,” you mumbled while puckering your lips and lightly peppering kisses across the head of his dick; sucking lightly, “You look like you’re enjoying this.”
Aether shivered at the light suction combined with your tongue swirling around his cock; the shaft beginning to twitch impatiently. He gasped, unable to speak, his hips beginning to move involuntarily.
“Yeah... I am."
As his hips began to move, you knew that you had Aether wrapped around your finger. The Ghoul was so sensative to touch right now, thanks to the alcohol that the two of you had drank, and your lips felt like the most enticing experience in the world. So, you kept going.
You giggled lightly, finally taking Aether completely into your mouth; the tip grazing across your uvula. You gagged slightly, but didn’t let up.
You secretly hoped that Aether wouldn’t face fuck you right now with all the whiskey slushing around in your stomach… it would be a huge turn off to puke all over his dick.
Aether's eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned loudly. He couldn't believe how good this felt. His hands tangled into your hair, holding you close while his hips bucked against the other Ghoul's face.
You sputtered and placed your hands on Aether’s thighs, coming up for a breath. As you gasped for air, a stream of drool trickled down your lips, causing his dick to twitch at the mere sight of you.
“Fuckkkk, you’re so hot,” Aether groaned, his eyes lighting up as he watched you drool, “The way you take my dick is divine.”
A blush flushed over your cheeks at Aether’s words. Some pre-cum was beginning to bead at the tip of the quintessential Ghoul’s tip, and without hesitation, you lightly licked the surface; collecting the salty liquid on your tongue.
A groan left Aether’s mouth at the sight.
“I love making you feel good,” you whispered while taking him back in your mouth again; sloppily bobbing your head up and down on his length.
Aether cried out in pleasure, his back arching as you fully took him into your mouth. His fingers intertwined with your hair, tugging lightly to assist in deepening his thrusts.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he growled while letting out a low groan, "You feel so good wrapped around my cock... oh, fuck!"
It pleased you greatly... those little noises leaving your lover's mouth due to how good you were making him feel. This is all you've wanted for the past year of knowing the rhythm guitarist. You'd wanted to make him feel good, and hear these little words of encouragement flow from his lips. You were in heaven right now.
"Good boy," you whispered while gasping for air; saliva and pre-cum mix beginning to dribble down your swollen lips, "I love when you moan for me. Do I make you feel good?"
Another groan left Aether's lips at your dirty words; his cock twitching irritably, "You do… You make me feel so good, sweetheart. No mouth can compare to yours."
That was true. You were good with your mouth, sure, but there were also other factors that made this feel good for the Ghoul. The bond you two shared.
This wasn't just some drunken one-night stand. This was the combination of two twin flames… two soul mates. This was fate being decided, and that made everything you did feel so much better than even Aether was anticipating.
You lightly kissed the tip of Aether's cock before dipping your head back onto it.
You moaned reflexively on his length, the vibrations causing immense pleasure to assault the older Ghoul's cock. Aether cried out once more, his hips jerking forward as he felt your throat tighten around him.
You could tell the quintessential Ghoul was beginning to get close. The way Aether was beginning to thrust his dick into your throat, as if he was getting ready to hit his peak was a telltale sign.
You continued to sloppily pleasure your friend's cock, certain to help Aether reach his orgasm. Your mouth watered in anticipation as you felt Aether's fingers tangle through your hair.
"F-Fuck, (Y/N)!" the Ghoul wheezed, his whole body growing stiff and rigid as he came. You reflexively gagged around the length getting shoved down your throat, as well as the steaming-hot liquid rushing towards your gut.
Aether slumped backwards on the couch, his chest aggressively rising and falling as your mouth slowly slipped from his dick.
You coughed lightly, some of Aether's cum streaming from your lips and onto the carpet below.
You fell from your knees and onto your ass, wiping the cum from your face with the back of your wrist; the cloudy liquid sticking to your flesh.
"You're not tired yet, right?" you asked, your voice hoarse from the intense blowjob that you had just given Aether.
Aether chuckled, his eyes soft as he stared down at you. He ran a hand through your hair and stroked your cheek with his thumb, "If you're still okay with continuing, then I am, sweetheart."
A groan left your throat, which sounded slightly like a purr, "Yeah, I want to keep going."
That was all Aether needed to hear. He shakily got to his feet and picked you up carefully from underneath your arms, hoisting you onto the couch.
Aether softly cupped your cheek with his hand, slowly capturing your lips in his. He could taste himself on your lips which had his dick springing back to life once again. He pushed you lightly against the back of the couch and began to feverishly remove your shirt. His arousal was peaking again, which made you grow increasingly excited.
You allowed the Ghoul to remove your shirt, exposing your cute, black bra. Aether was practically drooling at the sight of your supple, pale flesh.
Aether effortlessly unclasped your bra; his lips never leaving yours. You shivered slightly, your top half now fully exposed to the Ghoul, as well as to the chilling temperature of the room. Goosebumps appeared on your flesh, causing a low chuckle to leave Aether's throat.
"Goddamn, you're absolutely gorgeous," he whispered while carefully squeezing your breast into the palm of his hand, "I... am obsessed with you."
A blush ferociously flooded your cheeks, a moan threatening to leave your lips as Aether kneaded into your breasts lovingly, "You're just drunk. That's the alcohol talking," you murmured, grabbing the shaft of his cock with your hand, pumping it slowly.
A small groan left Aether's lips as you began to pump him, his left hand trailing down to begin unzipping your pants, "Trust me, this isn't the alcohol talking, honey. I have been obsessed with you, your personality... everything, ever since I met you. If this is the alcohol, then I'm chronically drunk."
You couldn't stop the small smirk from taking over your lips. You pushed your lips to his one more time, inhaling his scent as he pushed your pants and underwear off your legs, "You should go to alcohol's anonymous."
Aether rolled his eyes in amusement, twisting your nipple roughly in between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a little gasp of pleasure from your lips, "Shush. Not funny."
"It's a little funny," you argued while leaning back on the couch, your legs opening for the Ghoul.
Your mind was still foggy from pleasure as the Ghoul positioned himself in between your legs. You gasped, Aether's middle finger slowly stroking up your wet folds; your body shuddering from the sudden pleasure.
"You like that?" he murmured lowly while slowly stretching your leaking hole with two of his digits, moans spilling from your lips, "Does that feel good?"
"Y-Yes," you moaned slightly as Aether began to stroke your clit with his thumb. Slow and antagonizing movements... waves of pleasure.
Aether continued this teasing for a little bit longer, absolutely eating up the little noises coming from your lips. His fingers were almost pruned by the time he was rubbing his tip against your clenching hole.
"Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered while teasingly pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt, "What do you want me to do to you?"
You were suddenly bashful; your cheeks flushed with emotions. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva, you nodded up at him; locking eyes with him, "I... want you to fuck me, Aeth."
There was a hint of an impatient tone in your voice. It made sense though with all of Aether's teasing, and for how long the two of you have had all this built-up tension. The two of you have wanted this for a very long time.
Without hesitation, Aether leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You shook with anticipation as he lined his cock up with your hole before slowly pushing inside.
You hissed in mild discomfort from the stretch. Although you were plenty aroused and stretched due to Aether's fingering, it still wasn't painless.
Aether hesitated after sensing discomfort from you, "You okay?" he whispered, holding back the urge to buck his hips forward.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you whispered while carefully grappling at the couch below, trying to hold on and ground yourself, "You can move. I'm fine."
Aether hesitated a moment more, but then slowly began to thrust in and out. Very slowly.
It was probably a good thing that the Ghoul had waited and moved like he did. Although you were confident you were okay, he made 100% sure that was true, and it was worth it.
Little moans began to escape your lips as the quintessential Ghoul began to pick up speed. He moaned, leaning into your chest as he moved in and out of your tight heat, his eyes slammed shut in pleasure.
"(Y/N)! F-Fuck! You feel so good!" Aether growled animalistically while abruptly pulling out and slamming back in, groaning into your ear.
You screamed in pleasure as Aether began to slam into your pussy; the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your sharp claws scratched and tore at Aether's back as he had his way with your cunt.
"A-Aeth! Faster! Harder!" you begged, drool dribbling down your lips from the sheer pleasure that your precious friend was giving to you, "I need you, n-now! Oh, fuck!"
As you begged Aether to ravage you, his movements began to speed up. Hips slapping against hips, he positioned his arm underneath your leg and propped it up on his shoulder, giving him more range to fuck you senseless.
"You like that, huh?" Aether asked breathlessly as he watched himself disappear in your heat, his heart hammering in his chest, "You like how I feel inside of you?"
Your fangs dug into his shoulder; his flesh absorbing the lewd sounds reverberating from your throat as he cut through me like a hot butter to a knife.
It sounded like you screamed 'yes' to the quintessential Ghoul's question, but he wasn't for sure.
A sudden scream erupted from your throat as Aether's dick slammed into your G-spot; the friction causing him to shudder from pleasure, "Oh, Lucifer!" he wheezed, digging his own fangs into your shoulder as he continued to pile drive your cunt.
"Fuck! Holy shit!" you howled into Aether's ear; your knees growing weak from the pleasure. It was a good thing you were lying on the couch, otherwise, you may have fallen from how weak your knees were at this point.
If it was even possible, Aether's thrusts began to grow wilder and wilder as more screams and moans left your mouth. Your pussy was making a wet, squelching sound, which proved to Aether that you weren't faking it.
Your moans were sharp and high-pitched; your toes curled as wave after wave of pleasure began to cause your abdomen to heat up. The sensation was almost too much for you to bear.
"A-Aeth, I think... I'm gonna cum!" you wheezed breathlessly, tears streaming from your eyes from the pleasure.
Aether shuddered as your walls began to clench around his cock, threatening to milk him dry. He was determined to take you over the edge, "T-Take my cum! Take it all!"
Without hesitation, he pushed all the way to the hilt. Your head rolled backwards, a string of incoherent words streaming from your lips as you felt Aether's cum coat your pussy. You came at the same time, a fiery pleasure coating your abdomen as you squeezed the cum from Aether's length.
"Fuck! FUCK!" you howled, latching onto Aether's shoulder with your fangs once more.
The two of you laid like that for a little while, just trying to catch your breath as you both came down from the pleasure high. You could taste blood. Looking down, you realized you had penetrated Aether's skin with your fangs drawing blood.
"Oh, shit. Are you okay?" you whispered while grabbing your discarded shirt; dabbing the blood away with the material, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
His lips met yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "Honey, I don't care. I don't even feel it. You made me feel the best that I ever have before. You could hit me with a car and I wouldn't bat an eye."
You giggled at how silly Aether was; savouring your kiss for as long as you could before slowly pushing the rhythm guitarist's cock from your gaping hole, "You're so dramatic."
"Maybe it's the alcohol?" Aether joked while covering yours and his naked bodies with a large blanket.
"Shut up," you mumbled while snuggling into his side; embracing your sweet companion like your life depended on it, "It's definitely the alcohol..."
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mybutcheredtongue · 3 months
Text
I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased
harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader
CHAPTER FOUR (see full series list here)
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1992
You awake on a regular Wednesday morning a few days before the return to school, groaning and stretching as you sit up in your queen-sized bed. The sun is streaming in through your windows, and you can hear birds singing their first few melodies of the morning.
You hear a very croaky meow from beside you and you look over to spot Dubh awakening from her slumber, seeming very angry about it being awoken. Dubh's actual bed is resting in the corner of the room, but it has long since been forgotten and she much prefers to sneak up onto your bed covers during the night. This little habit of hers means you've had to deliver a quick cleaning spell to her every night before bed, but you enjoy her company anyways. You reach out and pet her lovingly, scratching under her fluffy chin.
"Yes, yes, good morning, Dubh," you say. You yawn, trying to muster up the will to properly get out of bed, before eventually you manage to swing your legs over the edge of your bed and step onto the soft rug beneath you.
You throw on your favourite pair of jeans and a sweater to accompany it, taking a quick minute to wash your face before heading downstairs and into the kitchen. Dubh follows you the whole time, complaining as she waits for you to get her breakfast.
This is the home you've lived in for the past 13 years. The home yourself and Sirius had bought after you got married. It's small and cosy: exactly how you had wanted. The walls are covered with photo frames and beautiful oil paintings that look straight out of a dream.
The kitchen is charming, especially as it's lit up by the August sun. You push open a window to let some air in, waving your wand to pour out some cat food for Dubh. You click the kettle on and drum your fingers on the countertop as you wait.
At that moment you hear a small hoot and a light thud outside your back door. You leave the kitchen, unlocking the door to open it and spot a small folded package on the front step. It's the newspaper, the Daily Prophet.
You toss the paper on the kitchen table, humming as you prepare breakfast for yourself. Finally, when you've finished, you take your plate in one hand and your ready cup of tea in the other, sitting down at the kitchen table. You pull open the twine wrapped around the paper, unfolding it out.
You nearly spit out your tea when you read the headline of the front page and spot a familiar face.
Sirius.
Sirius Black.
Sirius Black has escaped.
Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck.
What the fuck?
You swallow hard, looking at the article again. Your heart is thumping. Your hands are trembling. You feel like you're about to be sick.
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
'We are doing all we can to recapture Black,' said the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, 'and we beg the magical community to remain calm.'
You scoff. Fat fucking chance!
Fudge has been criticised by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
'Well, really, I had to, don't you know,' said an irritable Fudge. 'Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?'
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand which Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
You feel like you're dreaming. How the hell did he break out?
This article makes you feel so sick. The things they're saying — the things they've always said about him — they're not true. They can't possibly be true.
Sirius would never do that.
Your Sirius would never do that.
Your Sirius who kissed you on the Astronomy Tower.
Your Sirius who proposed to you in your first tiny London flat, lit only by candlelight.
Your Sirius who waited patiently for you at the altar.
Your Sirius who spoke in detail of his undying love for you during his vows.
Your Sirius who gave you the most perfect first dance you could ever ask for.
Your Sirius who spent your wedding night reminding you how much he loved you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, making sure there wasn't a single patch of skin on your body that went unkissed.
Your Sirius who bought you flowers every week, so the ones on your dining table were always fresh.
Your Sirius.
For twelve years you've maintained the belief that Sirius is innocent. There has got to be another explanation because the Sirius you know would never sell out his friends like that. He would never support Voldemort like that. He would never murder thirteen people like that! It's bullshit.
The Sirius you know would sooner die than rat James and Lily out like that.
Sirius isn't mad, like the way they say in that article.
Or maybe he is.
You wouldn't be surprised if 12 whole years in fucking Azkaban turned him loony.
Suddenly, there's a loud knock at your front door and you startle, dropping the paper.
What if that's him?
You slowly, apprehensively get up out of your chair, carefully walking to the door. You take a deep breath, and place your hand on the handle.
You turn it agonisingly slow and open the door a crack, peering out.
It's not him.
You don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Well, you're definitely not happy anyway, as you're met with Cornelius Fudge and three other Ministry officials.
You gulp.
"Good morning, ma'am," Fudge says. "Can we come in?"
You sigh, nodding. "Yeah, yeah. Of course."
You open the door wide to let them in, wrapping your arms around your torso nervously. They walk into your kitchen, looking around and you gesture to the kitchen table with a nervous smile. "You can sit down there..."
The four of them sit. You notice how Fudge's eyes immediately land on the paper, and he looks quickly back up at you as you lean against the counter, anxiously fiddling with your fingers. Dubh's head lifts from her food bowl, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously.
"Tea, coffee?" You ask, forcing a smile.
The officials glance at each other, as if deciding whether or not it's safe to accept a drink from you.
"Um...no thanks," one squeaks, looking up at you fearfully.
You sigh.
"Ah, so you've evidently heard the news..." Fudge starts, tapping the paper with one of his large, pudgy fingers.
You nod wordlessly.
"Is it a...surprise?" he asks.
You blink at him. "Yes, Minister, of course it's a surprise. I hardly expected him to break out of bloody Azkaban."
"Yes, yes, it is a shock to all of us," Fudge replies, eyes glancing over at the wedding photo on your countertop. "Have you...heard from him? At all?"
"No."
"It's just that you are his wife, you would be the first person he'd run to."
You raise your eyebrows, folding your arms. "Oh? I would've thought you'd expect him to run to Voldemort?"
They all wince at the name.
Fudge sighs, trying to keep his composure. "Look, regardless of your personal feelings on the matter, Black is a criminal and — "
"You have no proof — "
"He is a convict!" Fudge snaps. "Regardless of whether you believe it to be wrongful or not, he is a convict! If you see him, you must contact the Ministry. The magical community is in shambles with him on the loose. People are afraid."
You scoff. "The magical community has been in shambles for centuries."
Fudge ignores your statement, standing up from his chair unsteadily. "We will have to monitor your home, in case he decides to...visit."
"Shocker."
"We — uh, we'll be going now," Fudge says semi-certainly, motioning for the others to follow. They all stand, narrowly avoiding you as they exit the kitchen. You see one woman flinch when you move. You feel a hand on your shoulder, looking up to see Fudge's red, fudgy face looking at you pitifully. "I am truly sorry, dear. Remember what I said."
You watch as the party leaves and you shut the door behind them. You groan, running your hand through your hair as you slide down the door and sink to the ground.
Dubh appears around the corner, plodding over to you. You smile weakly at her, petting her softly. You feel your eyes starting to water and you sniffle, lip trembling.
You shake your head in disbelief.
"What am I gonna do?"
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
You wave your wand, levitating your heavy trunk up onto the overhead carriage of your train compartment. Most teachers don't take the Hogwarts Express — they just apparate to Hogsmeade instead — but you find that apparition tends to distress Dubh immensely and don't do it. You don't mind it really, the train ride gives you that little bit of extra time to look over lesson material.
Lucky for you, you have the compartment to yourself and freely let Dubh out of her carrier. She stretches with a long meowl, moving to settle on your lap, and you spend the ride reading a book and looking over lesson material, though your mind keeps drifting from what you're doing, choosing instead to fixate on Sirius.
You have a sickening seed of guilt and worry circling your gut ever since you heard of his escape, an overwhelming sense of dread looming over everything you do.
Heavy rain pelts the window harshly, wind battering the sides of the train, rattling it loudly.
You glance out the window pensively, wondering what he must be doing right now. Maybe he's been recaptured and you just haven't found out yet. You hope he's not out in this weather.
If sixteen-year-old Sirius had been caught out in torrential rain, he'd be busy complaining to you about how it completely ruined his hair and you'd just have to listen on and on because truthfully, you liked his hair after the rain.
The train starts to slow and you sigh, starting to pack up your things. Then, your eye catches the window and you squint out into the dark surroundings. You're not in Hogsmeade — you're not even close to it. You've been on this train enough times to know that you have a solid 20 minutes or so left in the journey.
Maybe there's something blocking the track and you'll all just have to continue on foot?
Hardly.
You stand up, gently plucking Dubh from your lap and placing her onto the seat beside you. You slide open the compartment door and stick your head out, looking up and down the hallway. You know well that Professor Flitwick is inside along with some of the Prefects so you step out, closing the door behind you and moving to their compartment.
You open the door and look in at Flitwick and three students, shiny silver badges on their chests. "Hey, Filius. What's going on?"
Flitwick shrugs, straining his neck to see up out the window. "I don't know."
You bite your lip, turning around uncertainly. "I'll ask the driver."
Suddenly, the train stops with a jolt and you stumble into the wall beside you, knocking your head against one of the flickering lanterns. You groan, bringing a hand to rub at the sharp stinging in your temple.
You try to make your way up the carriage but before you can the lights extinguish with a small puff and you're plunged into darkness. Rooting around in your pocket, you fish out your wand and mutter, "Lumos." A small bead of white light appears at the tip, illuminating a short distance in front of you.
To your horror, you look up and are met with a dark cloaked figure that towers to the ceiling. Its face is completely hidden beneath its hood. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as the room grows cold, freezing cold, making the hairs on your arms stand up.
A Dementor.
"He's not here," you choke, but it doesn't seem to matter as the dementor draws a long, slow, rattling breath. "He — he's not — "
You feel an immediate sadness overwhelm you. You feel every stitch of joy being sucked from you, your body desperately trying to cling on to whatever it can. You hear Sirius' voice, screaming raw and pleading, and it feels like the pain in your head is magnified a billion times.
Before your last stretch of consciousness can escape from you, you grip your wand tighter and, summoning all your will and happiest memories, you yell, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A bright, blue light bursts forth from your wand, taking on the form of large, scruffy dog and chasing the Dementor as it glides away from you. You stumble back, chest heaving, placing a hand on the wall for support, before remembering about the rest of the students and you turn, sprinting back down the corridor to the other carriages.
You throw open the door, moving quickly as you throw glances in each compartment window, checking that everyone was alright. Was there only one?
As you continue down the corridor, you look in one compartment and see the back of a tall figure blocking your view. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see it's not a Dementor, and slowly slide open the door to poke your head in, trying to carefully look past the figure in front of you.
"Hey guys, everyone okay? I think — Remus?" You stare in shock at the tired face of Remus Lupin, currently holding a gigantic slab of chocolate in his hands, loudly snapping it into pieces. "What are you doing here?"
Beside him is Harry, Ron, and Hermione, looking between the two of you in surprise. Harry is as pale as a ghost, his hair messy and untidy.
"Guess I took your advice," Remus shrugs, handing everyone pieces of chocolate. He hands one to you and you accept it gratefully, biting off a piece with a loud crack. "Taking up the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."
You grin. "Remus, that's brilliant!" You throw your arms around him and he chuckles, tapping your back softly.
You pull back, noticing Harry's shell-shocked face and turn to him in concern. "Harry, are you alright? You don't look too good."
"Dementor," Remus explains and you nod in understanding.
"There was one in my carriage too!" You say. "Bastards."
"Language."
"What? It's true!" You say in defense, looking back at Remus' unapproving face. You glance at the three thirteen-year-olds also present in the compartment with you. "Er — sorry, guys."
"I'm going to go talk to the driver," Remus announces, tossing a small bite of chocolate into his mouth.
You nod. "Alright, I'll go check on everyone else." Remus moves past you, but before he can go in the opposite direction to you up the train, you grab onto his arm. "Next time, tell me if you're coming. Could've saved me a very boring train ride."
Remus chuckles. "I was asleep the whole time, not sure if I'd be great company."
You just give him a knowing smile, heading down to the carriage to check on the other students.
⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。
→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡
p.s. it's easy to miss grammar/spelling mistakes when im editing it myself, so if you find any please let me know!! 💌
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captainsophiestark · 3 months
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Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
Bill Weasley x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Bill Weasley and his new wife have their wedding reception interrupted by Death Eaters and news of the Ministry falling. Things look bleak when they escape to Shell Cottage, but they find a way to keep each other going.
Word Count: 1,015
Category: Angst, Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Weddings were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be joyful celebrations, with all the people who mattered most. Even in the midst of a brewing war, I thought Bill and I would get that. One night of a break before returning our attention to all the terrible things going on in the world.
I guess I should've known better.
One minute, I was twirling across the dancefloor in the arms of my new husband, sharing a smile as the rest of the world faded away. In that moment, despite everything going on outside of our wedding, the world felt perfect.
The next minute, a glowing lynx had burst through the ceiling and into the middle of the dancefloor, announcing the fall of the Ministry of Magic and the death of the Minister along with it. The reception descended into chaos, people screaming and running as the protective enchantments around the giant tent fell one by one. It had been absolute chaos, and I barley remembered Bill grabbing my hand and getting us both out of there as the Death Eaters arrived.
Now, I sat on the sofa in Shell Cottage, where we were supposed to start our honeymoon. The place had glowed with warmth and coziness the first time we'd visited, but now it seemed all too dark, cold, and deserted.
"I just let my dad know we're alright," Bill said, coming back into the living room. He'd stepped outside to send a Patronus to his dad, to make sure the family wouldn't worry about us. "Hopefully we'll hear back from him soon."
I nodded, a little numbly, as my new husband crossed the room and waved his wand to start a fire in the fireplace. Once he'd finished, he came to sit next to me on the couch. We both stayed there for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and staring into the flames. I have no idea how long we would've stayed there on our own, but another glowing Patronus shot into the room not much later, this one the familiar shape of a weasel.
Bill's dad's voice came from the Patronus to tell us the rest of the family was safe, and that they'd be in touch when they could. A bit of the weight lifted off my chest, but a lot of it still remained. As the light of the Patronus and Arthur's voice faded, the darkness crept back in, despite the fire.
"Y/N?" I looked up to see Bill's concerned face. "Love, you're crying."
I raised a hand to my cheek to find he was right. Tears were streaming down my face, and the second I was forced to recognize it, a dam broke inside me.
I fell forward into Bill's chest as I sobbed, and he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down my back.
"It's going to be alright," he muttered into my hair, his own voice miraculously calm. I just cried harder.
"How can you say that, Bill?" I wailed. "We almost got killed at our own wedding, and now the Ministry has completely fallen. How can you possibly say that we're going to make it through this alright?"
He took a deep, shaky breath, then gently pulled me back from him enough that he could look me in the eye. His eyes shone and his eyebrows were furrowed, mirroring the distress I felt. But there was a grim set to the line of his mouth that signaled a quiet, unbreakable determination.
"We will make it through this," he promised. He gripped my shoulders a little tighter, leaning in until we were almost nose to nose. "We will get to our happy ending, no matter what."
I laughed a little through the tears, Bill's absolute conviction so ridiculous it brought a smile to my face.
"How can you be so sure?" I asked. He grinned.
"Because it's us. We just got married. That means we're a team, for the rest of our lives, against anything else the world wants to throw at us. And I happen to know that we make a fantastic team. I personally pity anyone who bets against us."
I giggled again, leaning into Bill as he leaned into me. No one else in the world could've lifted my spirits in this moment, other than the man sitting beside me. Which, of course, was no small part of the reason I'd married him.
"Come on," Bill said after a minute, standing and holding out his hand to me. "I believe we were in the middle of something before those bastards crashed our wedding."
I shook my head, still smiling anyway as I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. Still in my wedding dress, and with Bill still in his suit, we came together in the middle of the living room in Shell Cottage to finish the slow dance that had been interrupted. His arms wrapped tightly around me and I rested my head on his chest while the last of the tears dried on my face.
"You're right," I mumbled, my voice barely loud enough for him to hear. "You're right, we will get through this. And I'll personally make sure anyone who tries to hurt us comes to regret it."
Bill huffed a laugh and tightened his arms around me.
"I have absolutely no doubts about that."
I pulled back to smile into the face of the man I loved, and after a moment, he leaned in and kissed me. We stayed like that for a long time, swaying in the middle of our living room, kissing occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the fact that we were still here, together and whole, after everything that had happened.
In the warm, flickering glow of the firelight, the darkness of the cottage started to regain its cozy feeling, and a tiny spark of joy for the thought of the future rekindled itself in my chest.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate
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xpricity · 1 year
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"Hey hey, don´t hurt yourself today"
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PICTURE NOT MINE!
Summary: S/o has a terrible breakup with their boyfriend and go to find their Ghouls
Angst and fluff, mentions of a breakup, toxic breakup, some cursing
You felt like you were about to explode. Tons of negative feelings, fighting each other in your mind. You lived outside of the Abby most of the time, you wanted to live your own live. The Ministry respected that but they would always welcome you with open arms. Especially your Ghouls. They really loved you and always kept in touch with you.
But today, your world crumbled down and you needed them. Your mind clouded with anger, frustration, disappointment and sadness made you unaware of how you were storming through the heavy door. Your eyes were dark and the eyebrows frowned. You nearly punched him when the Cardinal saw you entering his homely halls and smiled happily.
But he stopped immediatly when he saw the chaotic state you were in. "Hey, hey! Caramella, what happened to you?", he gasped out, touching you gently but his eyes never left yours. You calmed down at that, focussing on Copia. "Copia...", you whispered as you tried to get lost in his eyes. Your tense body slumped down. "Its okay. Come here love.", he mentioned softly as he pulled you into a small hug. He then stopped, petting your shoulder and smiled: "Go to your Ghouls. You need them. When you are all set, please come talk to me as well, Caramella." You weakly smiled at that and muttered a thank you before you dragged your feet down to the Ghoul dens.
You did not care which Ghoul it would be so you stopped at the first door. You knocked but you were out of strength and control. Just when you wanted to knock again, the door was ripped open widely. With an annoyed look, Sodo stood inside and was ready mock loudly at the person that dared to interrupt whatever he was doing but when he saw you, he immediatly softened. You looked behind him and saw Aether sitting on one of his armchairs, playing melodies on a black acoustic guitar. "Y/n! Its so good to see you - Okay what the fuck happened to you?", the fire Ghoul talked to you. "Oh- Im sorry guys did I interrupt something?", you apologized quickly. Upon hearing the voice of their beloved y/n, Aether quickly stood up to get beside Sodo. He beamed happily at you but a wave of terrible emotions hit the quintessence Ghoul.
Just as you started apologizing, the tall Ghoul grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the room. Sodo closed the door and locked it, making sure that no one would be able to come in. "Dont talk that crap. Youre always welcome here. Now go make yourself comfy.", he elaborated. You felt how you were ready to burst, knowing that you would talk about the thing that made you behave so abnormally. Standing at the edge of the bed, you finally snapped. Aether wanted to ask you softly but you couldnt wait any longer. "He broke up. My boyfriend! He fucking broke up with me!", he snarled angrily. You walked a little up and down. "Ohh shit. Im so sorry y/n..." Aether tried to calm you down. "Why are you so worked u-", came the question from Sodo but you quickly answered: "HE BROKE UP BY TEXT." you screamed. You started to shake, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. "He sent me a text message and said he wanted to break up, just like that. I immediatly went to him to ask but he was drunk in his room, doing online dating on his fucking PC and said I was too boring and he wanted to break up.", you explained and then you grew silent. You finally said it. You felt like shit. Years of your relationship and that guy just said its over with a text message. You sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to sob loudly.
Suddenly, a tender but very warm body crashed into yours, pulling you into a very tight hug. You cried into Sodo´s shoulder, holding onto him like he´d run away if you didnt. You heard him growl into you ear. - He was generally bad at keeping his calm but hearing your story was making him furious. You meant so much to him. How could someone dare to hurt you like this?!
Big strong arms wrapped themselves between Sodo´s and your waists, pulling you against a very strong chest. Aether hugged tightly into you, sensing how broken you were. "I am so damn sorry. I can not believe someone letting you go willingly - but as shitty as that too? What a fucker.", Aether grunted and even though you felt crushed, you were surprised to hear him curse like that. But even though the situation was terrible, you felt a lot better now. You were not alone and had so much reassurance from both of the Ghouls.
Exhausted, you tried to lean against both of them, your mind too tired to keep your body this active. The Ghouls surrounding you felt that and immediatly, they moved you onto the bed. While Aether lifted you up easily, holding you against his chest like a stuffed animal, Sodo went to switch off the light. You were thrown onto the large bed, tucked into the pillows and under the blanket. You had your eyes closed, sucking in all the feelings. Your mind was at ease. The bed dipped around you as Aether scooped you up, your head on the large chest as he kissed your forhead. Soon you felt the comorting heat of Sodos chest around your back. You felt so much better. "Thank you, both of you. I really needed you both.", you whispered sleepily into the darkness, tickling Aethers skin with your breath. Both Ghouls started to purr as a reaction and you felt two tails caressing your legs gently. "Sleep, y/n.", came a soft groan from Aether and you felt yourself smile as you drifted of, surrounded by nothing but love and the feeling of being totally safe.
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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years
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𝐬𝐢𝐱.   𝐢’𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬
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remus lupin x animagus!reader
𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠
summary: snape threatens you after he finds out remus' secret, but james misinterprets the situation, instigating a heated argument. you open up to remus for the first time.
notes: alright as usual i never proofread my work but i think this is my favorite chapter writing-wise so hopefully u enjoy! smidge of fluff. angst/hurt and then comfort. this took like 5hrs idk when the next time i’m gonna be able to produce a quality chapter is
w/c: 5.0k
・゚⋆☾*・゚.・。.*゜✭・・゚✫・⋆。.
i’m begging for you to take my hand wreck my plans, that’s my man
'lupine lawlessness: why lycanthropes don’t deserve to live' by emerett picardy.
that was the book that fell out of snape’s bag.
the cover was well worn and curving at the edges; snape’s ego would never let him buy secondhand, which meant he must’ve read the book multiple times. on the inside of the paperback cover was snape’s signature, unabashedly bold and written in dark ink that covered half the page. it was almost like he wanted everybody to know his beliefs on werewolves—no, he wanted you to know.
that left you with one conclusion: he must’ve found out about remus’ condition.
the notes in the margins did nothing to unwravel the knot in your stomach. you weren’t sure if you were still in your dorm, or if the world had started spinning on an axis with you at the very edge, clinging on and swinging unsteadily. in his thick, heavy-handed scrawl, were thinly veiled threats.
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should be put down for public safety. the book, which was already yellowing with age, fell to the ground from a sharp tremor of your hands. debilitating pages unbound themselves from the spine and fluttered through the air, deceivingly elegant in comparison to its depraved contents.
remus lupin was none of those things. he was not soulless, nor evil, and he absolutely did not deserve-
lyall lupin? lupin… remus’ father? 
you had a vague picture of remus’ childhood. he grew up in isolation from muggle society as a safety precaution, and distanced from the wizarding world to avoid the prejudice and discrimintation. in your first year defense against the dark arts class, you’d studied werewolves as a part of the ‘dark creatures’ unit. you had your qualms and discomforts with that section of the reading, even as an 11 year old with no awareness about remus’ condition, but the wizarding world was becoming more progressive (or so it claimed). the old defense teacher had retired in your second year; the ‘dark creatures’ curriculum had been edited heavily and the crude language had been replaced.
you didn’t know where snape got this book, much less such an old edition containing such foul language that wasn’t commonly used anymore. the ministry’s werewolf capture unit had formed a separate branch (the werewolf support unit) and dolores umbridge’s anti-werewolf legislation had begun to loosen. you figured snape must’ve owned this book for years now, considering its outdated information and wear, or he’d stolen it from the restricted section. either option terrified you. either option showed his dedication to hating lycanthropes, and by proxy, remus.
there was an abrupt knocking on your door. before you could invite the knocker in, lily, mary, and dorcas streamed in, chatting about the next hogsmeade trip and what lily should wear to slughorn’s party.
that’s right, you thought. i still have to attend the party with james. and snape will be there too.
“hey babe, have you started getting ready?” lily smiled at you, oblivious to the dread clouding your mind.
you swallowed thickly. “yeah, i was just thinking about what i should wear!” you lied, putting on a chipper voice for the sake of your friends. “shall we get ready together?”
mary bounced on her feet, clapping excitedly. “oooh, my mum sent me some jewery last week, you should totally wear some!”
dorcas started digging through her dresser. “i’ve got this cardigan that’ll go perfectly with your dress, lily! it’s bound to be cold in the dungeons.”
lily grinned, turning to her own bedside table. she dug through the drawer; things tinkled and clacked from within. she pulled out a necklace and held it in the air triumphantly. “for you!”
you rushed over, pushing the apprehension to the side. you could worry about this later—for now, your friends were here to care and dote on you, and you couldn’t be more appreciative of their ability to cheer you up.
“it’s gorgeous!” you gushed, allowing lily to clasp it around your neck. her fingers were slender, ghosting over your skin as she fixed the cold silver chain. “thank you, lils.”
“don’t thank me,” she shook her head humbly, “it’s like it was made for you. there’s a little moon charm, d’you see? i thought of you immediately.”
you quirked your mouth into a confused smile. “that’s so sweet of you! you’re so thoughtful, always thinking of people out of the blue.”
mary chortled. “oh darling, it wasn’t out of the blue this time. it’s a moon, because of you and moony, obviously.”
“excuse me?”
dorcas pointed her finger at you. “see? i told you that’d be her reaction. ha! marlene owes me three galleons.”
you deflected. “oh, where’s marlene anyway?”
dorcas looked at her shoes bashfully. “she’s, uh- james offered to lend her a suit. she looks… really good.”
you and lily looked at each other knowingly.
“alright!” dorcas clapped her hands, trying to break the tension and redirect the focus off her. “let’s get the two of you dolled up; looking good for the dates!”
lily was eager, completely compliant as mary stood behind her and curled her long, ginger locks. dorcas was holding up different products and you were giving your opinion on each, a little more hesitant than lily, who seemed to fall naturally into the beautification process. you supposed it was because she was already very beautiful herself. 
“you look very handsome,” dorcas mused, placing her hands on your shoulders as she admired your reflection in the mirror. “well, you always look great. but i think i did a pretty good job.”
you turned your head to examine all your angles. “agreed. thank you, dora!” the two of you exchanged a loud, forceful high five, catching the attention of lily and mary.
“wow!” mary squealed. her hands lifted halfway to her mouth before she turned and patted lily’s bicep to confirm she was seeing the same sight.
lily gasped. “you look incredible! potter won’t know what hit’em.”
you rolled your eyes. “you know i’ve only got eyes for one person- oh merlin.” you cursed, having (once more) revealed your crush on remus with undeniable clarity.
lily smirked, looking you up and down appraisingly. “we should head out early,” she decided. “maybe we’ll run into a certain someone in the common room.”
your face turned serious. “i swear to godric, if you tell a single soul…”
mary made a zipping motion across her mouth. “not a word,” she promised.
dorcas quirked her head at you. “alright, but you’ve gotta make a move at some point! teasing you in private is getting boring; plus, lupin’s a real catch. someone’s bound to snatch him up if you don’t hurry.”
you bit your lip. dorcas was right.
“fine! fine. this is my formal allowance for the three of you to talk freely, but please, don’t scheme. and please, don’t tell anyone.”
the three girls grinned widely.
“okay!” lily cheered. “now that this piece of juicy gossip has been revealed, i say it’s time for us to make our accidental appearance in front of mr. loverboy.” she wiggled her fingers at mary and dorcas, making sure to take dorcas’ cardigan before she left. you helped her slip it on and made sure her dress was all laid out properly. dorcas was right, the cardigan did look lovely on her. you weren’t sure how long james would stick around after he saw lily looking so ravishing.
as you made sure each of lily’s straps were tied into neat bows, you missed the look of amazement on remus’ face as you made your grand entrance down the spiral staircase. well, it was no different from how you’d normally walked down the stairs, but when lily saw remus’ face, it was as if he were prince charming catching sight of cinderella for the first time. lily would know—she watched that movie countless times with petunia before coming to hogwarts.
“holy shit…” remus whispered; the corners of his mouth quirked upward unconsciously. you caught his eye, and he blushed, dipping his head down to reveal his red-tipped ears. his eyes flickered between your eyes, and you could tell he was restraining himself from roving the entirety of your body (which you wouldn’t mind if he did). you hid your delight by covering your mouth with the back of your hand, careful not to smudge the lipstick dorcas had so meticulously applied. 
“i- you-” remus started, mouth parted in astonishment, “you look beautiful,” he murmured, voice strangled and raw. vulnerable.
“thank you.” your voice was small; eyes hazy. you dipped your own head shyly. “you look beautiful too.”
remus smiled incredulously. “me?”
“yes, you!” you countered, shaking your head at him. “what’s up with the surprise?”
“i just- i didn’t realize you thought that about me.”
you tapped your foot anxiously, feeling like you’d been caught in an act even though you’d done nothing wrong. remus seemed uncomfortable; perhaps you came off too strong. perhaps he didn’t feel the same, and didn’t want you to say those sorts of things to him.
“are you calling me a liar?” you teased. “that i don’t feel that way about you? you don’t know how i feel about you,” you quipped, well aware of the double meaning behind your words. lily seemed to understand as well.
lily tapped her wrist, checking an invisible watch. “alright, stop flirting and let’s get going! i’m nearly positive slughorn’s never going to let it go if we show up late for the first meeting.” she tilted her head toward the portrait hole, and leaned against the wall to wait for you.
remus coughed lightly. “i do mean it though, you look… truly incredible. i don’t know- i haven’t got the words to describe how you look, but when you come back, i’ll have something figured out and i’ll tell you then.”
“well, i was really looking forward to talking to slughorn, so i was planning on being there for the full time and maybe staying after. but i guess i can come back early, even though i wanted to make connections and stuff…” you huffed. “you’re quite demanding, d’you know that, moony? always bossing me around, telling me when i should come and go, like you’re some possessive boyfriend,” you taunted.
remus pursed his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he tried to hold back an embarrassingly large, telling smile. hearing ‘moony’ and ‘boyfriend’ was doing horrible things to his mind. the worst part was that he couldn’t be your boyfriend, no matter how much he wanted to. (or how much you wanted it, if you felt that way in the first place.) sometimes, it felt like life was mocking him, dangling the possibility of being with you in his face like bait on a fishhook, and then reeling it back before he could catch hold. he’d gladly pierce himself on the hook if it meant he could be yours.
“thumper! evans!” james’ giddy voice came booming from the boy’s dormitory. behind him was a suave looking marlene and a grumpy looking sirius. “wait up!”
lily shouted back. “we’re going to be late. you hurry up, wanker.”
marlene was doing a poor job of being discreet as she snuck back to the girls dorm, probably to see dorcas, and sirius was running his hands through his hair. 
“you used up half my gel,” sirius grumbled. “and then you messed up your hair, so what was the point?”
james was by your side in moments and he offered you his elbow, which you accepted with a flourish. lily’s eyes darted to your linked arms, but she quickly recovered and gestured to the portrait hole. “the slug club awaits! onwards, my friends.”
lily’s kitten heels echoed through the corridor, clicking steadily, playing metronome as she set a brisk pace for your trio. there were already muffled voices emanating from the grand doors of slughorn’s meeting room; you were only a few minutes late.
it was drastically louder once you stepped inside. smooth jazz played from a vinyl which slughorn had amplified with a charm, fifth to seventh years were mostly stuck in cliques based on year or gender, and older wizards in dressier robes mingled with each other, for the most part disregarding the students. slughorn was meandering through the clumps of people, looking slightly distraught at the party’s reluctant beginning.
“miss evans! miss y/ln! mr. potter!” he beamed, squeezing past some adult wizards to welcome you. he shook each of your hands enthusiastically. “perfect timing! we’re about to begin dinner and introductions, so please make yourself comfortable at a seat.”
lily smiled apologetically at you and went in search of snape, while you and james found seating next to each other at the long, rectangular table. the two of you examined the students present: bellatrix lestrange, regulus black, snivelus severus snape, emmaline vance, pandora sailstream, yazmin patil, and of course, you, james, and lily.
slughorn stood from his position at the head of the table, tapping his fork on his class very traditionally. “dear students, colleagues, and friends, thank you for being in attendance today. as you know, the slug club is a group of exceptional hogwarts students with great potential, and i hope to nurture and create talented, powerful witches and wizards of you all.”
you looked at james with raised eyebrows, mouthing: “this feels like an ego trip more than trying to help us.”
james snorted, and a couple heads turned towards him. slughorn continued, unphased.
“now, if i can have our students introduce themselves, your interests, etcetera… starting down the line here,” he pointed at bellatrix, “we can begin dinner and i’ll allow you to interact with some of my old friends here.”
bellatrix cleared her throat; smokey eyes surveying the table. “bellatrix lestrange, slytherin house, pureblooded from the noble house of black-” she earned quite a few impressed looks from slughorn’s friends, “-advanced magic theory.”
you, and it seemed a few other half-blood and muggle born students, took notice of her emphasis on blood status—nearly her entire introduction was about her pureblooded status. 
she and sirius couldn’t be any more different, you thought.
“regulus black.” he nodded stiffly to bellatrix, who didn’t seem particularly pleased with his presence either. “slytherin. seeker.” regulus was sharp and pointed; he clearly didn’t want to be there. bellatrix elbowed him roughly and he kept a straight face before opening his mouth once more. “...pureblood.”
“severus snape, pureblood, slytherin, potions.”
“emmaline vance; ravenclaw. i’m keen on defense against the dark arts.” she was much more personable than the slytherins.
“i’m pandora sailstream, also ravenclaw… and i like charms.”
“yazmin patil, nice to meet you all. hufflepuff, herbology.”
you glanced nervously at james and lily. the air in the room was strained, not just from slughorn’s pushiness, but from the obvious division of blood supremacists and their disapproving counterparts.
“i’m y/n y/l/n, gryffindor house, and i… am good at potions.” snape looked at you strangely, and it was then you were certain he had meant for you to see the book and his annotations. you looked away. the situation was too delicate to be handled without deep rumination, and you absolutely could not let your emotions get the best of you tonight.
“i’m james potter, a proud gryffindor,” he grinned, “chaser of the century and a dab hand at transfiguration.” a couple of the students and adults laughed weakly, but slughorn slapped the table approvingly.
“very good, my boy! and one more.”
“lily evans, muggleborn, gryffindor house, potions.” you winced. today was possibly the worst night for lily to be open about her pride in blood heritage. you admired her for it, and you were proud of being muggleborn in a time where blood supremacist ideology was rampant, but you knew when to pick your fights. the ice was too thin and stakes too high for her to be bold.
“wonderful!” slughorn lauded. he snapped his hands, summoning a squadron of house elves bearing a variety of classy finger foods, indulgent steaks, colorful vegetables, and rich desserts.
the food seemed to lightened the mood, and slughorn looked pleased at the turn of events. already, the guest wizards and witches began approaching students with business cards or advice. the row of three slytherins seemed to be the most popular.
james was quickly swept away by a quidditch team manager who’d recognized james even before his introduction. he winked at you before abandoning you altogether. it was just you, lily, and pandora left. you and pandora had awkward introductions and lily had made a controversial comment, so you didn’t take the disinterest personally. pandora seemed to, however. she left her spot at the table and slipped into james’ old seat, immediately diving into a passionate rant.
lily, always the caring one, entertained her. you tried to pay attention, but her complaints seemed so trivial in comparison to what had transpired in your dorm mere hours ago. snape was wrapping up his conversation, and when he glanced over at you, your eyes were already fixed on his face with burning intensity.
he stalked toward you, the most confident you’d ever seen him, and took the empty seat to your other side. he leered, somehow managing to make himself tower over you even while seated. you glared but didn’t dare speak.
“i believe you have something of mine,” he muttered, watching your face for any revealing expression, so you clenched your jaw.
“do i?”
“you do,” he said cooly. “but, because of my kindness, i won’t be upset with you for stealing my property.”
you ran your tongue across your top row of teeth, fuming. “i don’t know what you want from me, snape, but let me just say-”
“what makes you think i want anything from you?” he raised his eyebrows. “you can keep the book, if you’d like. i’ve read it plenty of times.”
you exhaled gruffly. “i know a threat when i see one, snape. don’t play dumb.” oh, how you wanted to tear him apart like slughorn’s pulled pork.
“threats… threats? it sounds like you’re the one threatening me.” he waved a hand between the two of you and you realized how close in proximity you had become. with each exchange, you’d slowly inched closer to assert dominance. now, you were hovering just in front of his greasy, malevolent face.
snape sneered. “i’d watch what you say, if i were you. see, i just want you to be safe. there are real bad people out there; you never know what might happen to a little girl like you… or a half-breed.”
“keep him out of this,” you spat. “torment me however you want, but you stay out of his damn business, do you understand?”
“are you really so naive?” snape scoffed patronizingly. “you think you’re gonna to protect your filthy half-breed boyfriend with an ultimatum? don’t forget who’s dealing the cards, mudblood.”
you closed your eyes, refusing to let tears fall. snape pulled back, smug, and wandered off into the safety of the slytherin crowd.
you jumped, startled by the feeling of a hand grabbing your forearm. “james? what are you doing?” you hissed.
“what are you doing?” james retorted, narrowing his eyes at you. “i think we need to talk.” 
james tightened his grip on you and pulled you from the room, excusing the both of you to the bathroom. he dragged you down the corridor and out of earshot.
“what the hell is wrong with you?” james flung his arms out and they fell against his sides.
you scowled, crossing your arms. “with me? you’’re the one who forced me out of a party and now you’re yelling at me for no reason!”
“oh, there’s a reason,” james laughed sardonically, “snivelus. what the fuck was that?”
you stared at him in disbelief. “i- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“why were you talking to snivelus? you were so- is there something going on between you?” james was enraged, pacing the corridor as his face began to flush.
“excuse me?” you screeched. “what the fuck?”
“i don’t bloody know!” james ripped his glasses from his face and rubbed his eyes aggressively. “i thought you and r- merlin, you said he was ‘nice’ during potions and now you’re sitting next to him; talking to him!”
“i can’t believe you’re accusing me of associating with a fucking blood supremacist,” you snarled, storming up to him and jabbing your finger into his chest accusingly. “i’m a muggleborn, if you’ve somehow forgotten! what the fuck is wrong with you, pr- james?”
“you were this close to each other!” he used his fingers to demonstrate. “you- you’re all cozied up to him! you’re fucking intimate with him!”
if you weren’t standing outside a room full of powerful wizards, you would’ve hexed james, right then and there. you settled for shoving him. his chest, hardened and broad from quidditch, barely budged at your force.
“you know what? fuck you, james. stay out of my damn business!”
james didn’t bother following you as you stomped away from him and to the common room, tears finally escaping your eyes. dorcas’ work must’ve been ruined. you wiped your cheeks to find black mascara staining your fingers, and you were sure your lipstick was a mess after so much screaming and anxious biting. you snuck a peek at your reflection in a window. your face was puffy, your eyelids were drooping, and you looked—to put it succinctly—pathetic.
the fat lady pouted at you sympathetically as you slumped through the portrait hole. your tears had long stopped and were now soaking into your skin, pulling your cheeks taunt as the salt dried. you stumbled, catching yourself on the back of a couch just before you were about to collapse. you hadn’t eaten dinner, you’d cried out all the hydration from your body, and on top of that, you were still reeling from not only your argument with james, but snape’s threats and the discovery of his book.
and now you were alone. you were completely and utterly alone, slumped half-concious in an silent common room late at night while your friends were sleeping comfortably or enjoying the lavishness of slughorn’s party.
you had no more water in your system to cry out; instead, you began hiccuping and heaving. your throat was dry and you were sure that this was it, that you would stop breathing and pass out where you stood. what a sad way to go. what a sad, sorry excuse you were for a witch. what a cowardly, useless gryffindor you were, such an unlovable-
“bunny?” remus’ voice was gravelly from sleepiness but laced with concern.
“remus?” you struggled to keep your eyes open, wanting nothing more than to escape into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. “why are you still awake?”
“well, i promised i’d stay up for you, right?” he stumbled down the stairs, his long legs slightly unstable. in a blink, remus was behind you and wrapping you in his arms, burying his nose into your hair and mumbling intelligiblely about what you assumed was meant to be comforting.
he dropped his lips to your ear. “what happened?” he murmured. he seemed to have sobered up; his voice was much clearer than before.
“i don’t- everything, rem,” you whimpered. “i can’t. i can’t.”
he cooed, turning you to face him by the shoulders. his face fell at the sight of you—hair mussed, eyes glistening red, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so harshly he thought for sure you’d hurt yourself. he raised his hand to cup your cheek, but froze midair. “love. love? is it okay if i touch you?”
you nodded silently, wrapping your arms around your waist and fighting the urge to start full-body trembling. your eyes fell closed, and you weren’t sure if you had the energy to open them.
remus’ hand finally came to your cheek, freeing your lip from your teech before nesting itself between your jawline. his thumb rested just below your eye, gently swiping at the remnants of the mascara you’d cried off.
“alright, why don’t we sit down? you’re lookin’ a little shaky there, bun.” he moved his hand from your face and pressed it to the small of your back, guiding you to the couch with his other hand in yours for support. eyes still closed, you stumbled slightly on the edge of the carpet, and he caught you, bringing you closer to him and rubbing your back soothingly. you shivered.
“are you cold?” remus’ forehead creased. without hesitation, he began to peel off his jumper and held it out to you. “here, you need to stay warm.”
“thanks,” you mumbled. in reality, you’d shivered because of remus’ touch. but you weren’t about to turn down his jumper. “can y’help?”
remus took the jumper back, opening it up and pulling it over your head. he even guided your arms into the sleeves, and your mouth twitched upwards at his smell: parchment, something woodsy, and a hint of spice. oh, and chocolate. chocolate?
“would you like chocolate?” remus a bar between you and broke off a piece.
you finally smiled, allowing your eyes to flicker open. “yeah.” you opened your mouth.
remus stared at you quizzically before his eyes widened. in the dimness of the common room, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you felt him turn away from you momentarily. when he returned his attention to you, he exhaled shakily and placed the square of chocolate on your tongue delicately, watching as you took it in your mouth. he gulped.
“thanks, rem.”
“yeah. yeah, anytime. i’m always going to be here for you, y’know that right? i know that you don’t really like talking about… your-”
“my feelings, yeah. i just feel silly. ‘cos you’re going through so much, and so is sirius, and lily too, and i just… i don’t wanna waste your time,” you confessed.
remus took hold of your biceps and swiveled your torso so you were facing him. “you are not a waste of time. it doesn’t matter how big or small—your feelings are important. and you’ve never once said that me or sirius or lily’s feelings are a waste of time, so why do you think that about yourself?”
you sniffed. “i dunno. but now i feel everything, rem. ‘s all there. i feel like i’m gonna vomit. not really, but fuck, it’s so much. it’s so, so much.”
remus hummed, wrapping his arm around the back of your head and bringing your forehead to his chest. you breathed in his cologne once more, feeling his scent wash through your body as if it were cleansing you of the brain fog.
after a stretch of silence, remus spoke. “do you wanna talk about it or just sit here with me?”
“talk.” you didn’t hesitate or fight yourself, and remus just wanted to kiss you; he was so proud.
“alright, i’m listening.”
you couldn’t find it in yourself to make eye contact. instead, you shuffled forward, tucking yourself fully into his chest and wrapping your legs around his back. your arms curled under his and joined themselves at the top of his spine. you felt like a koala, and you were okay with that.
you managed to squeeze out the details of your fight with james. remus’ grip tightened protectively as you explained why james had made his assumption, describing the way snape had gotten so close to you. he stiffened at the word “intimate,” and then you were the one rubbing his back. for the first time, you let yourself pour everything out. you didn’t hold anything back; well, except for the reason snape had confronted you in the first place.
remus’ nose twitched as he tried to regain his composure. he was pissed at james—how dare he accuse you of being intimate with a blood supremacist? you were the kindest, most loyal, boldest, best person he know. remus wasn’t sure if he was more upset with snape or james.
he felt you shake in his arms and began rubbing more warmth into you. he sighed, unable to stop replaying the scene of you and snape and james; each reset was a new stab. “hey.” he tilted your head upwards. “hey, look at me. it’s gonna be okay. everybody argues.”
his words of reassurance seemed to push you further away. “n- no, you don’t understand,” you choked, “i can’t fix this one. i can’t-  rem, i messed up. merlin, i’ve messed up really, really badly and i don’t think i can fix this. i don’t know what’s going on. i don’t know what’s gonna happen. i’m scared. damn it, i’m scared, remus.”
remus clenched and unclenched his jaw. “it’s late, bunny. maybe we should think about this in the morning, when you’ve got some food in ‘ya and a bit of coffee. d’you wanna go back to your room?”
“no please,” you whispered. “can- can you stay with me? just this once. please.”
every shred of remus’ restraint collapsed at your words, and he swept you into your arms and peppered kisses to your hairline. “i’m here, okay? i’m not gonna leave you.” he coaxed you into a laying position, crouching on his knees in front of you so he could brush the hair from your face.
“remus?” you slurred, cracking your eyes open. “will you hold me?”
he pulled his lips into a downward smile; empathetic eyes wandering your body. he curled himself behind you, pulling your back into his chest and lacing his legs between yours, tucking his nose into the crook of your neck. you felt around for his hand, and when you found it, you pulled it over your body and towards your face. remus felt something soft tickle his palm.
kisses. you were kissing him.
“thank you, remus,” you muttered, voice timid.
“always.”
・゚⋆☾*・゚.・。.*゜✭・・゚✫・⋆。.
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Plea for Help in Evil Times
To the choirmaster: according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.
1 Save, O Jehovah; for the faithful man is no more, / For the trustworthy have vanished from among the sons of men.
2 Each man speaks falsehood with his neighbor; / With flattering lips and a double heart they speak.
3 May Jehovah cut off all the flattering lips, / The tongue speaking great things,
4 Those who said, With our tongue we will prevail; / Our lips are our own: Who is our lord?
5 Because of the devastation of the poor, because of the sighing of the needy, / I will now arise, says Jehovah; / I will set him in the safety that he longs for.
6 The words of Jehovah are pure words, / Silver refined in a furnace on the earth, / Purified seven times.
7 You, O Jehovah, will keep them; / You will guard them from this generation forever.
8 The wicked go about all around, / While vileness is exalted among the sons of men. — Psalm 12 | Recovery Version (REC) The Recovery Version of the Holy Bible © 2016 Living Stream Ministry. All rights reserved. Cross References: Deuteronomy 15:9; 2 Samuel 22:31; 1 Chronicles 12:33; 1 Chronicles 15:21; Psalm 4:2; Psalm 5:11; Psalm 9:9; Psalm 9:18; Psalm 13:4; Psalm 37:28; Psalm 55:10-11; Psalm 73:8-9; Proverbs 20:6; Proverbs 30:5; Isaiah 32:5; Isaiah 57:1; Romans 16:18; James 3:5; Revelation 13:5
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Text
2023.09.25
Complete fics posted on AO3 this day
1. Truth or Dare? by @lettersbyelise [E, 3k]
►A pyjama party in the shared Eighth Year dormitory was the best way to overcome their differences, Pansy Parkinson had declared. Harry had to admit she wasn't wrong.
2. who will receive you in love's offices by @jtimu [E, 30k]
►In the aftermath of it all, Draco opened an antiques shop. Sort of. Mostly, though, what he did was repair work. People brought him their grandparents’ charmed silverware or a pocketwatch which was meant to show the stars at your birth but now only held the time, and he would fix them. It was quiet work, a little lonely, but for the repeated intrusions of one Harry J Potter.
---
Fest/Exchange
1. The Boy Who Live-Streamed by Anonymous [T, 11k]
►Considering Harry not only vanquished Voldemort but also straight up died doing it - his pleasure, by the way, no need to actually thank him or anything - Harry really thinks the Ministry should cut him some slack. So what if he wants to spend his post-war years unwinding with Draco, streaming video games, and getting some things off his chest? No need to throw a fit, right? ★ Drarry Let’s Play Fest 2023 | @drarry-lets-play
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drarryspecificrecs · 1 year
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2023.03 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3
1. Silver Lining by She_Who_Must_Not_Be_Named_0 [?, 386k]
►13 years have passed since Voldemort's defeat. In those 13 years, Harry has done his best to forget everything that happened during the Second Wizarding War. He is a professor at Hogwarts now. And so, as of the upcoming school year, will Draco Malfoy. They haven't seen each other in years, they haven't talked in over a decade. Nothing has changed since they were students at the school - and yet, so much has. And after a while, they begin to realise that, in the end, maybe they aren't so different after all.
2. Defying the odds by Ibbsterkisster [T, 213k]
►[...] There was only so much Draco Malfoy could take. He was intelligent, he could see what was happening, what he was fighting for, what he had to pay for a cause he didn't even believe in. He wasn't brave, he didn't rush into situations without thinking first. He wasn't a Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin. And he was about to show the world and a certain green-eyed Saviour, how useful Slytherins could be. — Or: the one where the Houses reunite to kick Voldemorts ass while Harry and Draco are boyfriends
3. no need to panic by silverdragons33 [T, 158k]
►Apparently, in the wizarding world, having a predestined soulmate is completely normal. [...] When someone starts trying to murder Harry, Draco is assigned as his protection. And although neither of the two have any idea what awaits them on the path ahead, one thing’s for certain: This will either end in bloodshed, or something far, far worse. But, yeah, no need to panic.
4. His Only Love by Becstar7 [M, 148k]
►Harry is an incubus in the court of King Thomas II, where fae and crossbreeds are second-class citizens. When someone tries to assassinate his lord and husband, Draco, Harry leaves his home to find the one responsible. But all is not as it seems, and learning the truth about himself and the world around him leads to a conflict he could never have imagined, with forces far more powerful than himself.
5. Save the Date by @mallstars [E, 122k]
►In the twelve years after the war, Harry attends sixteen weddings. As his friends and acquaintances vow their lives to each other, he watches quietly from the sidelines. Step by step he pieces his life together and falls, slowly and thoroughly, for Draco Malfoy. /// Featuring Ron becoming an eBay enthusiast, Hermione refusing marriage altogether, Gilderoy Lockhart getting married in a fever dream of glitter and product placement, and Rita Skeeter spitting a steady stream of venom at Harry and Draco's every move.
6. With and Without You by @shewhomustnotbenamed [E, 117k]
►Harry and Draco realize that they’ve been living in the same building for the past five years, hiding from the Wizarding world in Muggle London for a variety of reasons. They grow unexpectedly close and Harry realizes that Draco’s relationship with his boyfriend is abusive, spiraling as he tries and fails to figure out how to help. In Harry’s rejection of the Wizarding world in general, he has fallen out of touch with his friends and his magical abilities, but has to reconnect with both in order to find himself again.
7. A Blanket Of Black Fur by DarkWizard [E, 78k]
►After being sequestrated in the Manor for months, Draco tries to escape. Comes a wolf.
8. The Practice of Everyday Life by @goblinmatriarch [M, 69k]
►After the War, Harry married Ginny, had three beautiful children, and remained best friends with Hermione and Ron, who had two children of their own, and they all were happily married until they weren't. Harry and Hermione are both struggling to navigate post-divorce parenting, Ministry careers, and then this fucking pandemic hits. If that wasn't bad enough, Draco Malfoy reappears out of nowhere with worrying information about magical wards falling and the future of magic itself at risk. Harry and Hermione will have to navigate horrifying bureaucracy, complex magical rituals, confusingly sexy Slytherins, and Having It All.
9. An Earlier Heaven by Relevant_Peach [T, 52k]
►An unexpected truce throws off Draco's sixth year plans to lay low and avoid taking the Dark Mark and being assigned a mission. He doesn't know why on earth Potter would want to gain Professor Snape's respect, but he's pretty sure it's impossible. Still, having a boon from the Chosen One could come in handy, and if nothing else, it will be entertaining to watch Potter try.
10. The Roles We Play by slytherin_heartstrings [?, 43k]
►Draco is content with living his life as Damian, at least until Harry Potter walks into his theatre and threatens to disturb Draco's hard-earned peace of mind. After all, Potter has always had a thing for ruining Draco’s life. /// Harry reckons he might have a premature midlife-crisis. Three years after the war he still doesn’t know what to do with his life, but maybe it doesn’t matter as long as he still has a house to renovate and a capybara in his shower.
※ HONOURABLE MENTIONS :
11. Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites [E, 40k]
►As with all his friends’ wagers, it starts small. Fifty Galleons for one kiss from Harry Potter is easily done.
※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k
※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k
Diagnosis: Unresolved by @lekendall [T, 16k]
Down to the Wire by @bluesyquill [G, 16k]
Draco Malfoy's Entirely Justified and Very Official War on Trousers by Tophats_and_Teacups [E, 15k]
I Like to Believe You've Been Dreaming of Me by @professordrarry [M, 19k]
In Search of Redemption by mavieenlair [T, 31k]
It was a bad idea ('cause now I'm even more lost) by @all-drarry-to-me [T, 36k]
Rotten Luck: a Lesson in Slander and Self Control by enoby_w [T, 17k]
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream by @violenttulips [E, 24k]
Ongoing Fest/Exchange
※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.
Divorce Flash 2023
Salt and Pepper Fest 2023
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leezlelatch · 1 year
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Music Box
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You visit Terzo in the Veneration of the Relics. Terzo x F!Reader, angst, mentions of death, mourning, resurrection. Rated S for Sad. ~2200 words.
You have the music box made after hearing Cirice for the first time. It’s a simple square box, wooden and painted black. Anyone could mistake it for a jewelry box or random knick-knack you keep on your dresser. 
The twinkling tune has become so familiar to you, carrying comfort amongst its cogs and springs. Not so much a rumble that’s calling than a soft voice beckoning you forward. A yearning deep within your heart. 
When Papa Emeritus Terzo died, you put it away. Hid it between habits and clothes deep within a drawer, willing the little thing to disappear into oblivion, to merely stop existing. That gentle melody only serves as a reminder of the life that was halted too quickly before its crescendo. 
Three lives. 
The Veneration of the Relics makes little sense to you. What is a relic but an object? The former Papas on display as mere things to be ogled at when they were people. Powerful men that commanded the Ministry. Eloquent speakers and beautiful singers. Men with hopes and dreams and love for their congregation. A family gone in an instant and humiliated even now. You resent the line of people in the Ministry’s stained glass-lit halls as they wait to enter the chapel to see the new “exhibit” which will be featured at future Rituals as part of the VIP package. It makes you sick to your stomach.
When time draws closer for the Papas to be moved, carted off in trunks bearing their names, it seems like you are the only one left in the Ministry to have not visited the chapel. A gaggle of women and men are often seen crying over the body of the Third. A lone figure stands mournfully over the Second’s. There are flowers left on the top of the First’s glass casket which change every single day although no one sees the person responsible.
Your fellow Siblings of Sin find it to be quite odd, questioning why you won't pay your respects to at least the Third, but you wonder if it is paying respects or contributing to the spectacle? Is it so easy for them to look upon the corpse of a man who smiled and flirted and waltzed around these very halls less than a month ago?
On the night before the tour, you toss and turn in your bed, in the throes of a nightmare. Your mind is a jumble of thoughts, echoes of the past racing around your head. You hear his voice in your ear even now, you see Papa, you see Terzo, kneeling down on the stage, his hand held out to you, drawing you closer, closer, ever closer until you are lost in his gaze. No, no not lost, found. You are found. But he lets go, moving away, and although you call to him, he grows more distant, his image fading. Although you scream for him, he does not turn. Hands wrap around his elbows as he is forced to the ground, and Sister is there, Sister is laughing, and there is a blade, a terrible blade, and…
“NO!” You scream, bolting upright out of bed, your chest heaving. 
You clutch your chest as you shake with sobs, your face tilted toward the ceiling as tears stream down your cheeks, wails of immeasurable pain escaping your lips. 
“Terzo,” you whimper, gasping in a breath that breaks on another sob. “Terzo.” 
Ting!
You pause on a cry, your breath hitching as your eyes search your darkened room for the source of the noise. You slowly unfurl your hands from the death grip on your night dress, and let them lie uselessly in your lap as you stare hollowly at the shadows. Your eyes feel heavy, and you sniffle, allowing your puffy lids to close for a moment, your sorrow far too great to bear. 
And then you hear it again.
Your eyes snap open and find your dresser, the wooden piece imposing in the dark, and you stare with a furrowed brow, sure you recognized that faint, twinkling tune. Your legs slide off the bed and you push the sheets away as in a fog, the floor cold against your bare feet. You move, pushing your toes into the hardwood, trying to ground yourself, your head throbbing from your tears. Shaking fingers move to wrap delicately around the handles of the top drawer, a breath escaping you, ears peeled for that sound. Because surely it couldn’t be. Your mind, lost in a haze of grief, is beginning to crack.
You pull it open with a jerk, and yet nothing jumps out at you. Your various clothing items lie in unmade heaps within the deep drawer, and you laugh humorlessly. You lick your lips and blink down at the contents of the drawer, moonlight filtering through the window framing your silhouette. You push away shirts and underwear, digging, your fingers searching, turning to desperation when you cannot find it for a moment, when you’re sure it has been taken from you just as Terzo - 
And then you find it. Fingertips graze across the cool top of the music box, a gasping breath pushing through your throat as you wrap firmer fingers around it to pull it out. You bring it close to your chest, stepping back a little from the dresser, somehow feeling like a piece of you has finally returned home. Why did you hide me? It whispers. You keep stepping backward until the back of your knees hits the bed and you drop heavily onto the mattress, the smallest noise echoing from the box as you jostle it - just that hint of a note. Cirice. Church. Meliora. The pursuit of something better.
You slowly look up from the music box, your breath coming heavier as your eyes stare toward your door while your heart lies in the chapel. Standing, and uncaring of your current state of undress, your cold fingers wrap around your doorknob, and you step into the hall. Faces of Papas past, clergy members of old watch you from portraits while you walk down the many halls, illumination of reds, greens, and purples caressing your cheeks from the stained glass windows. If anyone were to see you at this moment, they would see someone incredibly determined. Someone who has made a decision, no matter how much it may hurt. The last person to visit the Veneration of the Relics. 
The chapel doors creek open, the noise loud in the quiet of the chapel. A hundred candles light the space, throwing frightening shadows on the wall which curl and beckon to you as you step across the threshold. The glass caskets put a chill through your heart as you see them there in a line before the altar under the watchful gaze of Lucifer Morningstar. One. Two. Three. 
The bells toll high above you, announcing the late hour, announcing your presence before the dead. You walk solemnly forward, the pews having been taken out to provide more space for the mourners, however you remain in the center, walking down the red carpeted aisle, your white nightgown brushing against your legs with every slow step. Your gaze rises to the stained glass which covers the entire back of the sacristy, Papa Emeritus Primo, Papa Emeritus Secondo, and Papa Emeritus Terzo gazing down at you as you approach their earthly bodies. 
Terzo’s casket is surrounded by flowers, wreaths, cards and favors. There are marks of lipstick, of kisses on the glass, and as you step up onto the dais, you cannot help the watery smile that pulls at your tear-stained face. For he was loved. Is loved. Although Papa found it so hard to believe it for himself. You swallow, a chill raising the hairs on the back of your neck as you peer beyond the glass into his resting face. He looks like he could be sleeping, your friend had said. And while his jaw is relaxed, his mouth slack, his eyes closed, you find his expression anything but peaceful. His paints are lined so carefully on his face, and yet your heart burns with the thought that his true identity is forever hidden behind the will of the Clergy. His eyelids look almost sealed together from the heaviness of the black paint, and your fingertips press against the glass so hard the pads turn white, desperately wishing you could wipe it all away. 
“Terzo,” your voice is lost in a crack, and you swallow heavily. You look around helplessly and laugh a little. “I don’t know what to say.” 
Your eyes focus on his hands, folded across his chest, the gold nails reflecting in the candlelight. You always wondered what his hands looked like, what they would feel like wrapped around your own. But that was the crux of it, right? You were never brave enough to approach him like the others did. Really, you didn’t feel like you had the right, or deserved to. He was…he is Papa Emeritus III. What right have you to the Devil’s chosen? 
Your eyes stray to the stone gaze of the Dark Lord, your heart full of doubt. Was this the Devil’s plan? Why allow…
You huff a small, mirthless laugh. 
Isn’t this the same argument you made with God?
Why? Why? Why?
Your eyes turn back to Terzo, unmoving in his eternal rest. 
“I don’t know you, Papa. I made up a story in my head that you were kind, and compassionate, that you cared for your congregation. That behind the mask was a man none of us have the privilege of truly knowing. That each time you flirted, or said something completely ridiculous, it was to hide who was really underneath. And despite the Ghost Project, despite the Papacy, despite the Clergy’s expectations, you wanted to be free. I made up all of that. Because that’s what I needed. I needed to take your hand…”
A tear slips down your cheek, falling onto the casket and sliding like a raindrop down the glass. You take in a shuddering breath, the hand not holding the music box squeezing into a fist. 
“I needed you to tell me that it was going to be okay. I needed you to tell me that I made the right decision. And now…”
You slam your fist onto the top of the glass.
“Now, I don’t know what to believe. Look at what they did to you! Look at what they did to your brothers. This is…this isn’t what I signed up for, this isn’t right! Terzo, this isn’t…”
Your shoulders shake as you cry your agony into the coolness of the chapel. The moonlight cuts through the stained glass and falls on Terzo’s quiet features. You blink through your tears and simply look at him for a while. You smile gently, clutching the music box to your chest for a moment before placing the little box on the top of the glass.
“I had this made after hearing Cirice for the first time. It brought me comfort. I…understand the whole manipulation aspect, believe me,” you laugh. “But…I would have followed you. I suppose I sound unwell. I just wish…I had the courage to thank you for making me feel like I belonged somewhere. For the first time in my life. I wish I could have saved you, Terzo. I’m so sorry for what they’ve done.”
You gently turn the key on the music box and the sweet tinkling of the music box plays over the man who inspired it. You press your forehead to the glass, closing your eyes tightly. 
“Please find peace, Papa. Please be somewhere good. Please be happy,” you whisper, a fervent prayer. 
Stepping back, you look at Papa Secondo and Papa Primo, a sad smile gracing your features.
“All of you.”
You leave the music box playing as you exit the chapel, taking the long walk back to your room to reflect. You remember the first time you came to the Ministry, how nervous you were to attend your first mass. The Papas had seemed so terribly imposing then, but you learned to look closer. Primo occasionally snoozed when he wasn’t giving a sermon. Sometimes you could catch the barest hint of a smile on Secondo’s face when he watched his younger brother preach. And Terzo, Terzo was always so loud and boisterous, arms in the air as if he were ready to draw the entire room into an embrace. His eyes would pass over the congregation, and sometimes, if you were lucky, fall on you. 
You re-enter your bedroom, and slowly slide under your sheets, just staring at the ceiling as you come to accept that those days in the sun were over. Whatever this new Ministry would be, you would face it, as you have with everything else, and hope…hope that you can feel that warmth again.
As your eyes grow heavy, and you allow yourself to fall into slumber, you hear it.
The music box.
Your eyes snap open and find the door to your room slightly ajar, and you realize you didn’t quite latch it when you returned. 
The music box gently plays, growing closer and closer to your door. You remain frozen on the bed, strangely not afraid. 
Strangely happy.
Perhaps those days aren’t over after all.
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theratboyking · 9 months
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Loving You, Loving Me
Pairing: Various Papas x Reader Word count: 1.2k Summary: Just some soft moments between you and the Papas. Enjoy ;) Warnings: None. Maybe some suggestive content for Copia, but really this is just pure fluff.
Masterlist
Primo:
Lazy mornings with Primo were your favorite. Before he retired, these were rare. Now they have turned into the norm. Waking up and curled into his side, listening to his heartbeat, was how you were accustomed to waking up in the morning.
That’s why it was odd when you woke up this morning to find his side of the bed had gone cold. Sitting up, rubbing your eyes, looking around the room for him only to find that your love was nowhere in sight.
Sitting up, debating if you really wanted to leave the warmth of the bed. However, your mind had other plans. Groaning, letting the what-ifs take over, you throw your blanket off of yourself. Still not fully awake, making your way through your shared quarters in search of your lover.
He stood in the kitchen, back turned as he looked out the little window. The soft sound of the radio fills the small space. Everything was in place, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crossing the kitchen so that you were
He didn’t jump, relaxing under your touch. “I’m sorry, la mia rosa. I did not mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” you assure him, “Just missed you.”
“I’m right here.” He turns his body, taking you into his arm, bringing you even closer, if that was even possible.
“I know, my darling.” Relaxing into his hold, slowly swaying with the music. You look forward to moments like this—just you and him. Letting out a hum of satisfaction, he relaxes further with you, enjoying the moment. Just the two of you, and if he was honest, he preferred it this way, and you couldn’t help but agree.  
Secondo:
It was quiet in the four walls that made up Secondo’s office. A rare occurrence within his walls. He hated the quiet. It reminded him too much of his childhood. He spent too much time in a silent room, hoping someone would come and talk to him. No, Secondo hated the silence, but with you, he didn’t mind it.
  He couldn’t help but stare at your sleeping form, watching your chest's soft rise and fall. He had the couch you both were lying on dragged in for this reason. You tended to stay up late, helping him with the mountains of clergy paperwork Sister always seemed to have for him.
. Honestly, he's not entirely sure when it happened, you and him. You were the complete opposite of him. You were…well, you were you. Bright and sunny, you always looked for the good in others. He was just another angry old man. You were good for him. At least, that’s what his brothers would tell him. He was inclined to agree, thanking Lucifer himself for blessing him with you. 
“You’re staring again.” Your voice was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Knocking him from his thoughts
“Can you blame me amore?” A rare smile that was reserved especially for you formed on his face. Only growing bigger as you let out a soft chuckle.
“No, I suppose I can't, my love.” You laugh, bringing your hand so it rests on his face. Your soft gaze broke what little tension was in his body.
He closed his eyes, sinking further into your touch, taking in the moment. A sigh escaped his lips, bringing you closer if that was even possible.
Terzo:
Years have gone by since Terzo has slept in like this. After the years of touring mixed with all the early morning duties for the ministry Sister Imperator had been giving him, mornings where he could sleep in, were few and far between. It was rare that the sun would wake before he did. But with the sun streaming in, he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone came looking for him.
Slowly opening his eyes, he relaxes, seeing you are still in bed with him. Feeling you slowly return to the land of the living; he pulls you closer into his chest.  “Good morning, amore.”
What you and he had, while relatively new, was something he had never experienced before in his life.  He would look for any excuse he could if it meant he could have five extra minutes with you.
“Good morning.” Sleep still thick in your voice. Stretching slightly, bring your arms so that they are around his neck. “We’ll be late if we don't get up.” It was a weak protest but a protest nonetheless.
He only tightens his hold on you, bearing himself into your chest. “They can survive just a little while longer without us.”
Letting out a sigh of defeat, you relax further into him. Tangling your finger into his thick hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you ass.”
He lets out a content sigh, “Sí, but you like my ass,” He teases, finally opening his eyes to look up. His breath got caught in his throat. The early morning sun casts a halo around you. You look like an angel, at least what he imagined they looked like.
All air escaped your lungs. He looked at you like you had placed the sun in the sky.
He couldn’t help himself. He just had to say it. He had to let you “I love you.” There was no hesitation when he said it. He only looked up at you with hopeful eyes.
The shock was written on your face; it was the first time either of you had admitted what you had been dancing around for months. It seemed fitting that it was in his bed that such a confession would take place.
“I love you too.”
Copia:
            Copia lets out a sigh. His arms were starting to hurt from the stacks of paperwork he had to carry back to his room. He just hoped that you were already there, hopefully sleeping. He didn't want to worry you more.
He needed a vacation. It was plain and simple. At least that’s what you're constantly telling him, and as he walked the decrepit halls back to his room, he couldn’t help but agree with you. He could practically picture it. Some place sunny, just the two of you on a beach somewhere.  He lost himself to the idea and everything you would get up to. He’s not even sure if you would leave the hotel room with how much time he’s been spending in his office as of late.
Click, click, click.
The unmistakable sound of footsteps broke him from his daydream. Who could be down here at this hour? 
“Copia?” There was worry laced in your words.
“Amore? What are you doing down here?”
Noticing the stack of paperwork he was carrying, “To get you silly. It was getting late, and I didn’t want you to go without eating, and not only that, but you also needed some rest, my love.”
“I need to finish these papers, amore.” He protested, despite knowing you would not take no for an answer.
“And it will be there in the morning.”  You assure him, taking his face in your hands, smiling as he relaxes under your touch. “Now, come on, I made your favorite.”
Taking half the stack out of his hand, you turn to begin your journey back to your shared room. He stayed for a moment, taken aback by the mere idea of you. Shaking his head, he’s quick to catch up to you.
In the morning, he would talk to Sister about that vacation, and there was no way he was taking no for an answer.  
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Anniversary [Chzo Mythos fanfic]
Part 2/Sequel to Which Image
Thought Cabadath was scary before? You ain't seen nothing yet. 2.5k words of Trilby whump/psychological horror for you.
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London, 2014
He hated the subtlety of it most of all.
Hated how it always started just when he felt safe.
Stepping down the hallway, Trilby hummed beneath his breath. His flat sat at the end of the building. Had to be quiet as he walked to it. He would hate to get the attention of - er, disrupt - his neighbors this late at night. Last time he did, he'd gotten reported to the Ministry for “practicing unlawful magic”. His supervisors still joked about that. 
(But they didn't ask what he'd been doing.)
He'd gotten distracted. Let himself get lost in his thoughts, in his hopes, as he followed the old carpet towards his flat. So maybe it was his own fault, for not hearing the footsteps until they got too close to ignore.
Trilby stopped. Looked over his shoulder. A human reflex. He knew what he'd see.
The hallway, empty and mundane, and nothing else.
He faced forward. Nothing in front of him, either. No sound but him and his breathing.
“Damn it,” he whispered. 
He waited for the laughter.
It never came.
But with his first footstep, another clicked behind him. Closer than before. Trilby didn't look back, his attention focused on the distant door. He didn't look back but his pulse hammered in his veins and his teeth grit tight against the images crawling to the front of his mind.
He's behind me, his primal instincts screamed. He's behind me, he's behind me.
But he wasn't. And if he was, Trilby didn't want to see it.
He'd find out soon enough anyway.
Key in the lock, the door creaked open. Without looking behind him, Trilby stepped inside. The lights turned on. The door locked tight.
And he was not safe.
He glanced up towards the clock on the wall.
12:03 AM.
“Right on time,” Trilby mumbled. 
The footsteps must've started at midnight, on the dot. Like they always did.
Considering how long this had gone on, the fact it still caught him off guard, still hit him so deep, should've been embarrassing. But he'd lived through the alternatives, too, and they were so much worse.
He kept the lights off as he headed for bed. Stripped himself down, removed his trademark suit from his thin body, didn't bother looking where they ended up when he tossed them aside. Trilby sat down on his bed, rested his head against the wall. He looked into the darkness, and wondered if it looked back 
“Get it over with,” he said.
And maybe someday, he'd get an answer.
Tonight was not that night.
Trilby's eyes closed.
He did not dream, but he still woke up screaming. No one but him could've heard it. Tears flowed down his face, his fingers ached and hot blood drained from his nails. Breathe, breathe, he begged himself, breathe. But he was.
Trilby threw himself from his bed. Dragged himself to his feet. His mouth sucked down air, and it burned down his throat. 
It hurts, he thought. It hurts.
Despite the morning light streaming through the windows, Trilby still had to stare at himself, at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, for several long moments before understanding. He raised a hand to the bruises around his neck, traced the large finger-shapes with his own.
Blood dripped from his nails, oozing between the slick black material stuck beneath the surface. 
Trilby breathed. It hurts, the thought came again, fading away as the bruises did.
“Happy anniversary,” he mumbled to the Prince.
And it was just the first day of July. 
-
Yes, he regretted it. Every choice he made of his free will during that nightmare, he regretted. Most of all he regretted DaFoe Manor. If he hadn't broken into it that night in 1993... Maybe a lot of people would still be alive. And he'd still be a gentleman thief that people remembered existed. 
But it'd been written in the stars. Even before he knew the Order existed, before he first glimpsed their Prince walking down the hall of Clanbronwyn Hotel in Ireland, they'd waited for him. He'd been trapped before he was born.
(Part of him never escaped DaFoe Manor, though it lay in ruins now. Part of him never escaped Clanbronwyn Hotel, laying bleeding, dying, on the stump of the tree that once imprisoned Cabadath’s soul.)
(He'd always be there. The pain would always be there. That wound inside him would bleed for the rest of his life.)
As persistent as the Order remained, they were not the only ones. The Ministry kept Trilby busy, and there were plenty of other agents around to take down whatever the Order was up to now. They existed on the edges of his life now, and there, in that lingering space between past and present, the Prince walked.
Trilby didn't forget. Cabadath didn't let him.
-
July remained an evil month. A month of hallucinations, nightmares, cuts and bruises, painful visions, and brutal attacks. The first year, Trilby thought it was just trauma, until it was almost too late. The second, the Ministry sent him overseas. Once he'd been recovering in a mental hospital, where he'd lost track of time. Another, he'd dared to fight back.
Cabadath enjoyed it all. That, Trilby thought, scared him the most. Cabadath didn't need to haunt him, stalk him, torture him. This was not part of any cosmic plan. The Order didn't play any role in it. Chzo didn't have anything to do with it.
Cabadath did it because he enjoyed it. Because it hurt.
All these years of being prey did not numb the fear. The dread and anticipation remained, lingering beneath the surface, a constant thread of paranoia he could not shake off. If he did, he'd regret it.
He always did.
Trilby jolted from his nightmares, slamming upright in his office chair. It took three breaths to understand where he was. He relaxed his fists, flexing and massaging his fingers to stop the static. On the wall, the clock read - well, it was broken again, but the window suggested late evening, the beginning of night. Dark streets, bright lights, people going home.
He wasn't safe at home. He wasn't safe anywhere, he knew that, but home in particular felt dangerous. Like someone waited for him.
(He couldn't handle another year of waking up in bed to a dark-coated figure looming over him, watching that large hand reach down to pull him into a place worse than Hell. Those nightmares lasted long after July ended.)
He'd go home in the morning to shower. Tonight, he'd stay here. He'd research, he'd drink his coffee black, he'd finish that damn paperwork, and he wouldn't think about the whispers coming from the room next door. He'd ignore them. He wouldn't fall for that trick twice. 
That room was empty anyway. He knew that.
He knew it was empty. 
No one walked around in there.
But in his mind, he saw the Prince, hand on the wall, staring at him through the concrete and plaster. He saw the fingers flex. Felt them settle on his shoulder as his eyes fell closed. Felt the finger drum with impatience, waiting. Waiting for sleep to sweep him away.
He didn't dream that night, but it still hurt.
-
There wasn't a therapist that could help him with this one. He'd tried. Sitting in a tiny room with a professional stranger locked his throat up, left him staring at the floor, mind dancing around the knots of pain that made up his soul. 
He'd opened up once. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
Trilby stood over the sink, water dripping from his face. He watched the drops splatter as they fell from his face. Looking in the mirror was not an option. He just needed something to wake him up. The thinner the veil between worlds became, the harder it was to wake up. Halfway through the month and the nightmares pulled him down deeper and deeper. Soon, if the pattern continued, they'd stop, and things would get worse.
He wasn't the only one hearing the whispers now. The agents under him weren't making eye contact. Was it the exhaustion on his face? Or the fact he'd brought something into their lives none of them could stop.
Trilby knew that. He checked. He checked every year, as the desperation hit a peak. The pattern didn't change, because that would mean he could, would, did, change.
And that's when people died.
His eyes glanced towards the mirror, a reflex. A hand curled around the door - when did it open? The hand, bandaged and bloodstained, dragged over the wood and let go.
An invitation to follow if he ever saw one. Trilby ran a paper towel over his face, stepped out of the room. Right into the hand that grasped his neck and slammed him against the wall.
They found him motionless there, slumped on the floor, staring at nothing until his name was called. Blood on his shirt, dripping like water from the wounds around his neck.
He couldn't remember a thing.
-
Claws dragged over the walls behind him as he walked down the hall. He didn't bother looking back this time. Trilby grit his teeth, focused on the door to his flat ahead of him.
A hand latched onto his shoulder, yanked hard. Trilby hit the carpet just as hard, the breath rushing from his lungs. Only his struggles to breathe filled the silence.
He was getting too old to be taking falls like this.
In his flat, he rested on the couch, placed his head in his hands. July 26. Though the warm sun flowed inside, he shivered. 
Across the room, Cabadath stood. Trilby watched from the corner of his eye, between the fingers that cradled his head. The Prince of Pain could have been a statue, a mannequin, standing so still, with empty hands. Trilby looked at the table before him, at the bottle of whiskey he'd left out. He glanced back. The Prince remained.
Not a hallucination. Not a bad dream, not a flashback. The real thing, in his house.
Trilby looked at the whiskey again.
He heard the footstep, he didn't flinch, and didn't look up. Dropping his arms, he closed his eyes, lowered his head.
“I won't,” he said.
The silence seemed its own answer: you will.
“I know that's not why you're doing this anyway.”
Your pain is a memory I want to relive over and over, the silence said.
“You're a sick man.”
Does the hatred make it easier to bear?
Trilby's eyes watered.
You will not set down your burdens. You cannot wash the blood from your hands, so you do not try. You have saved the world, and remain alone. And it hurts.
Trilby swallowed around the lump in his throat.
I see you, Trilby. I see the breathing flesh and the aching soul within. I see the guilt, the shame, that divides you from the world. I see what you will not accept in yourself. I see what you need.
“I won't,” Trilby mumbled.
I will take the burdens from your back. I will break your bloodstained hands. I will shatter your purpose. I will destroy your world. I will bring you to your knees. And I will ask again: will you join us?
“No,” Trilby said.
You will.
Liquid poured into a glass. Claws traced through his hair and pulled his head back.
You will be loved…
Raw fire burned down his throat. Not whiskey. Blood.
… And we will teach the world the name of the King.
Trilby surfaced. He lay on the floor of his office. Footsteps stepped away from the door. Crust surrounded his eyes, dried on his cheeks. Exhaling, he licked his lips, and the blood upon them tasted almost sweet.
-
The sun rose on the 28th. Trilby didn't bother going home the night before. He watched the sunrise over the city, numbness gnawing his heart.
The coffee tasted fine. He got through his paperwork without struggle. Still he tasted magic in the air, but that air came easily into his lungs, and the magic he tracked to agents taking advantage of the thinning veil.
The thinnest the veil would be all year. An opportunity Cabadath would never miss, to pass into the realm of technology and do what he wished.
Trilby stood alone in the crowded hallway, coffee mug in hand, watching agents and other employees walk, laugh, talk together. He pressed his back against the wall, watching, frowning, scanning the people passing by.
He stood there a while before going back to his office. Set the now lukewarm coffee on his desk. Stared at it, stared at the paperwork, the paperweight, the trash can, the chair.
“Where are you, Cabadath?” He asked.
Someone laughed down the hall. A door slammed. Voices carried through the walls, normal people, normal conversations.
Trilby tucked his pistol in its hidden holster. His long walk around the building, through the area, did not provide any answers. But at least he could sit down and get back to work without the anxiety eating him alive.
People died on the 28th. A pattern Cabadath never broke. Sometimes one, sometimes two, sometimes many. Most bodies were never found. Sometimes Trilby only knew what happened because of the parts found in the Order’s storage months later. 
Sometimes Cabadath made him watch.
Trilby watched the news. Trilby watched his back. Trilby kept an eye on his agents, kept an eye on the people in the hall. And the air came easy into his lungs, and the sun walked down the sky, and Cabadath-
And Cabadath never appeared.
No one died. No one disappeared. No screams, no whispers, no forced trips to the realm of magic.
It was a long day.
A long trip home. 
A long time watching the news.
A long time waiting in bed for sleep to come.
And when the footsteps stepped upon his carpet, Trilby didn't move. He closed his eyes, listened to every calculated step. Listened to the swaying rustle of the Prince’s coat. 
The bed shifted with unexpected weight. A body sat beside him.
Cabadath watched him.
Trilby breathed. So wonderful, to be able to breathe. So quickly, that breath could stop.
He lay in the darkness. He breathed. Cabadath stared. How long the monster stayed, Trilby couldn't have guessed. Cabadath disappeared before Trilby’s eyes opened to the morning sun. But there was blood smeared on his neck, his face, and the bruises beneath them did not go away.
It took almost three weeks for the bodies to be found. Some glorified commune way out in the middle of nowhere stopped picking up supplies. By the time anyone bothered to check, the bodies rotted like ripe fruit in the summer sun. But the authorities guessed the massacre must've happened in late July.
As Trilby stared without expression at the media firestorm on the screen, he touched the bruises on his neck. They would fade soon, with the knowledge he'd gained, but the memories never would. 
Cabadath won. He taught kind and cruel alike the name of the King. But as long as Trilby could remain standing… as long as Trilby could protect someone, anyone…
He turned away and got back to work.
One man in a felt crown held back the tide of destruction, and the pointlessness of it all ached like an open wound.
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