#V; What Was Written | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phonkscribes · 6 months

Note

Hello! If you're still taking requests, do you think you can write the Sparda guys with a chubby s/o?

I can certainly write this dear Anon.

The More to Love The Dante, Vergil, & Nero with a chubby S/O.

Dante

He likes to eat a lot, in fact, eating whole pizzas by himself is something that he does regularly, much to everyone else's dislike. He's glad he has someone to try out different things with, like if there's a new pizza combo he can get at his favorite spot, he'll want to share it with them if he doesn't inhale it all himself. He wants them to eat unabashedly just as he does, and will always make sure that they're taken care of. One thing that Dante wouldn't want is for them to hold back out of fear of their weight turning him away when that wouldn't be the case at all. He loves that they're a little husky, leaving more for him to hug and hold when he has the time to between jobs and such. Dante likes the way they squirm in his hands when he massages or pinches their belly or the fat on the sides of their hips. God, it's so cute... he could just eat them up.

The cambion likes to tease and poke their chub when he can, doing it in passing when walking by or trying to get their attention.

"Hey cupcake, whatcha up to? Aww, is somebody mad?", he'll reach up to pinch their cheeks next, chuckling as they pout at him.

He loves to tease, it's just who he is, but if it ever bugs or rubs his honey the wrong way he'll knock it off. Holding his hands up in his defense to go "Alright, alright" in a dismissive tone, even if he does well to not push them any further. If they ever want to lose weight, he'll be a bit sad, but will support his partner however he can.

Vergil

He's not well acquainted with others who are shaped like them, and he doesn't really mind that his S/O is chubby. He just thinks that his partner being softer than what he's used to is intriguing. They're body just has extra nutrients stored within it for later use, if anything that's smart. He isn't a big eater, not like his brother, so when he has a little more on his plate than what he can finish he hands it off to them. He likes watching them eat, and he likes to provide them with the things that they like to eat even more. Watching them light up when he hands them the plate fills his heart with mirth, a certain satisfaction that he didn't think he could feel. He takes it as an opportunity to see what they like and what they dislike, making note of their comfort foods and etc.

He also finds them pleasant to embrace, liking to lay over them and to rest his head on their chest. The added warmth is nice, especially since he tends to run cold. The son of Sparda enjoys to cuddle with his S/O and will pointedly glare at anyone that tries to get him up from his lover's arms. It's even more foolish to try to insult them for their body. If he was hostile while laying with them, he will lash out in his own way against someone that tries to frame their plumpness as being a bad thing. Vergil won't tolerate it, not one bit.

Nero

The devil hunter's favorite thing to do is to hug his S/O from behind, wrapping his arms around their trunk and pulling them towards himself. He likes to feel the way they laugh in his hold and how they move and try to escape his little kisses. He won't admit it, but he likes the way they feel in his grasp. Their pudge is soft against his toned arms from the training to follow in his uncle's footsteps, and he's happy to see them so full of life. Nero might poke fun of his S/O here and there, but it's nothing serious. He'd prefer them to have a little meat on their bones anyhow or not worry about how much they eat. He finds it endearing and a little fun to watch how well they enjoy the foods that Kyrie makes when he visits her or happens to make a pit stop at a restaurant with them.

He's super observant of their diet and makes sure to have a snack or two on hand in case they get hungry or peckish. Nero looks out for his S/O and makes sure that they're healthy and taken care of above all else. If anyone says anything to them, he's the first to step up and get in their face.

"What'd you say to them? Come on, why don't you say that again?", he'd growl. Draping an arm around their shoulder while telling the jackass to flock off if they know what's good for 'em.

He'll be damned if there's anyone who tries to make them feel bad about their size or weight. As someone who also struggled with his own image, he gets it and knows what it's like to be afraid or worry about how others might perceive them. Regardless, Nero assures them that he'll love them no matter what.

#phonk scribes #your letter has been received #dmc imagines #dmc x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #[ you can tell whos my favorite /j ]#[ i wouldve done V and Grandpa himself if it wasnt just another variation of what i had already written for Nero and Vergil ]#[ maybe i'll come back to his and add them in some day ]#[ like always. enjoy! ]

138 notes · View notes

crismakesstuff · 5 months

Text

i feel bad for everyone saying nolan can’t get a redemption arc or that he’s gonna be some big final antagonist

his redemption arc is a huge part of the plot of the comic guys they can’t not do it. Doesn’t mean anyone needs to like him or anything but yea don’t worry he’s gonna pay in his own blood for his crimes. mark got his proneness for getting his ass beat from his father

#and yea the BEGINNING of his redemption arc is gonna start next episode I’m sure #doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a great person but that he’s trying and failing rly hard #also he’s not forgiven by like *most* of the characters in the comic #bc too many of y’all conflate redemption arc with ‘everyone forgives them’#that’s a v christian way of thinking #and also I’m making this post bc I’ve seen too many people with like these wild ass theories ab what will happen and I’m just #sitting here in comic reader #also also I don’t like everything in the comic and how it’s done the show does it better #but nolan is arguably the best written part of the comic #ok I’m done #cris rant #text post #invincible #nolan grayson #invincible comic #omniman

96 notes · View notes

chairkind · 11 months

Text

you find an old photo in the car. it's surprisingly undamaged by the cold lake water.

#mike morton #norton campbell #demi bourbon #fiona gilman #identity v #happy birthday mike! sorry for the angst (i am not sorry what the fuck was that letter bro)#jk 1/2 i adored how that was written tbh it's very Mike of him to talk about it like that #so the theme of this is basically them fishing his car and body out of the frozen lake after the race ends and they find this in his car #god i love call of the abyss aus #coa iv

173 notes · View notes

ask-seer · 9 months

Text

When -

[ My buddy @askmercenary as priestess, and I as Seer. Idk the other people. ]

#identity v #identityv #eli clark #eliclark #identity v seer #priestess #fiona gilman #//random draw of a random experience #//MY OTHER RBLIMG TAGS DISAPPEARED!! NETIS.. anyways.... nah nvm i forgor what i had written....#//eli still ded from.grimace shake #//random draw first simce its been a wip for a good while

109 notes · View notes

festeringmoons · 5 months

Text

overall I think it’s fine to not like Marcella(you cannot be expected to like every fictional character ever, and she obviously is nowhere near a perfect person; far from it) but if you hate her because she took up space in a book the author has stated is specifically about women reclaiming power and you wanted to see more of your homoerotic serial killer boys then you should reevaluate your fucking biases <3

#my post #vicious ve schwab #vicious #victor vale #marcella morgan #misogny #vengeful #villains series #honestly she’s not really a favorite because while she had potential she could have been written better #But when I read reviews that are like #‘I didn’t like Marcella or June because they took up too much of the plot and I wanted Eli and Victor to kiss’#Maybe you should consider that you read Vicious fundamentally different than how V. E. Schwab wrote it #And that you cannot expect the sequel to go as you had expected when what you expected is not what she wrote #Like yeah Evervale is cool but shipping it should not get in the way of like. Everything else?

50 notes · View notes

aphverse-confessions · 5 months

Note

The way that ZaneChan/Zana was handled in canon is so disappointing looking back on it. Zane and KC literally only have maybe 4 significant scenes together before their kiss in the haunted house which leaves the ship feeling so rushed. Sure there's some build up during Aphmau's Year which was nice but again, it was maybe only 1 or 2 scenes. I also very much get the impression that after they kissed and got together, Jess really didn't know what else to do with them aside from having them make out constantly (which is very ooc for Zane imo) or not communicate with one another which is so frustrating to watch. And I feel they would've benefited from more scenes together before their kiss as well as after. Set up the mutual crush they could both have with small outings and them just spending time together. And once tensions begin rising in the relationship, let them actually talk it out! When push comes to shove Zane hits a breaking point and talks stuff out! And since s4 he seems way more willing to set boundaries and establish communication even with those he cares about. So why didn't he do this with KC? We don't need KC accidentally kissing Garroth to make any of that happen! (God I could write a thesis on how absolutely idiotic that writing choice was). Like it's actually so frustrating because a good relationship is right there but no we need to have more Aarmau moments bc Aarmau is our Lord and Savior apparently 😮‍💨 (and I'm mostly indifferent to Aarmau but man the fact it's literally everywhere gets on my nerves sometimes). It's just disheartening because I think aside from DanChan and some other relationships here and there, ZaneChan had the opportunity to become one of the best relationships from Jess' series. Also we never got that subplot with Ghost really resolved in a meaningful way? It was definitely in character for KC to be jealous of her flirting with Zane but why didn't we ever have a moment where she confronts Ghost and tells her to buzz off? Also,, I think it's so so icky that they made Emmalyn so obsessed with Zane enough to the point she kissed him without his consent :/ I have yet to understand why the characters continue to let Ghost hang around them when Zane has been clearly very uncomfortable around her in multiple scenes. Sorry for the essay I can get carried away lol.

#aphmau #aphblr #aphverse #aphmau confessions #aphmau mystreet #mystreet #I agree #don't apologize for the essay it was v well written #also this was sent during the character hate rush but it's been queued because it doesn't concern a particular character #in case u were wondering what took so long

30 notes · View notes

happyk44 · 1 year

Note

jasico prompts!!!!! i have several you can choose ur favorite:

stupid newlyweds who are on honeymoon and therefore their braincells are dead, not noticing weird things happening around them bc 1) they're used to weird shit 2) they just got married and are too into each other to notice the terrorist attacks, alligators, and mafia shootouts

classic coffeeshop au except this coffeeshop is definitely a front for money laundering but the receptionist is So Cute so you can't blame jason for going there everyday

jason has wall of nico photos that are definitely not creepy and he insists that its just his cork board where he puts photos of friends on except its mostly nico.

god!jason kidnaps nico to piss hades off but oops now he's in love and he keeps making excuses as to why he cant release nico: weather's too hot, you owe me money, i have a cold, etc etc

It wasn't a shrine. No matter what Leo said, it wasn't a shrine. Shrines were completely different - Jason knew that. He had a couple actual shrines and this, this was just a photo album. It wasn't even technically dedicated to Nico. It just sort of... ended up there.

Jason couldn't really pinpoint when or how Nico's photos became the prime material of edge page. The album had been a simple idea. Something to look at when he was feeling lonely and remember that he had friends. Initially it was just a small photo book he took with him on his travels but ever since Leo made him that portable printer, he had expanded it to a couple collections.

He hadn't been hiding it either. The albums were innocuous from first glance, protected. Everyone knew he had them, he talked about them all the time. Every time he whipped out his disposable camera, and then later his shock-proof phone, he'd say a quick, "For the album." And they'd smile and pose. There were a lot of candid photos too.

Travelling was just easier for Nico. So he was around more. Checked in more. Of course, Jason was going to have a lot of photos of him.

But as he flipped through his albums, he was beginning to speculate that maybe Leo was onto something. It still wasn't a shrine but...

Well, Nico was pretty. The light caught his face in wonderful angles. There were times he'd be laughing and Jason would think, I have to remember this.

The thing about losing all your memories? You wanted to make sure you had something, just in case it happened again. He wanted physical proof. Leo was here. Piper baked cookies. Hazel had a birthday.

Nico laughed. Nico smiled. Nico disappeared into the corner shadows of the wall. Nico held a puppy. Nico walked around with a half-grown chicken on his head for two hours.

Jason closed the album shut and set it aside. Nerves tousled up inside him. This was... perhaps a problem he had not anticipated. He steeled his breathe inside himself.

It wasn't a shrine. Shrines were for worshipping. For holiness. And his pitures of his friends were important and beloved, but they weren't worshipped. Or holy to him. They were just memories. They were just moments. They were just...

He closed his eyes and exhaled softly.

Sprawled out on the bed, Leo snored. Jason honed in on the sound as he creaked open the album closest to him and reviewed the photos. Nico's hair caught in the moonlight, his head tilted back up to the stars, eyes closed, face blissful. Half a second later when he caught Jason taking a picturing and started laughing. Another half second and the smear of his hand, his dark eyes peeking out just above.

Jason traced the picture.

I knew you loved him, Leo had laughed hours ago as he'd flipped through pages, but I didn't realize it was obsessive horror movie shrine type love.

Of course, Jason loved him. He loved all his friends. Nico was important to him. And these photos weren't - they were just a memories. Just moments.

Jason flipped through the pages of the album. The brushes of air caught against his skin. Thoughts of sinking into shadowy tendrils, the rush of nothingness, fluttered to the front of his mind. Nico's hands cold against his. His quiet, Are you okay? as Jason readjusted to solid ground.

In the album, Nico reflected back at him from every corner. Dark eyes glinting with secret smiles. The curve of his jaw. The spread of his hands. Other people sat in the pages too. But Nico outnumbered them all. He was front and center. Just looking at him filled Jason with a thick warmth he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He paused. An understanding dawned on him.

Of course, I love him, he's my friend, he'd huffed back at Leo earlier. And it's not a shrine.

Leo had grinned wickedly. His eyes were alight with a knowing that Jason detested. He hated the way Leo always seemed to know him better than he knew himself. Not in a factual logical way - but emotionally. Jason could introspect on himself for decades and never come out with the emotional understanding Leo could sniff out just by looking at him.

It's totally a shrine, dude. He'd laughed a little here, hipchecked Jason. And you're not thinking of the same love I'm thinking of.

He didn't elaborate then and Jason didn't ask. But he got it now.

Maybe it was a shrine then. Sort of. Looking at Nico - candid and posed - filled him with a quiet delight, a sense of clarity. And there was devotion there. It sat quiet in his bones, waiting for the moment Nico would appear from the shadows like an unholy angel. Then it would rattle up cut through Jason's core like a hot knife. Like an iron brand.

He'd been branded in the name of a god before. Although then, he had been an unknowing participant, sat down before a group of adults and burned until his tongue bled. His shrine was devoted to a statue. His prayers heard without much response.

This time was different. His shrine was smiles and humanity, warmth. His calls went answered every time. The brand on his soul had been placed there willingly. He'd chased it down with heavy teeth and was rewarded with blood and family.

Jason pushed Leo's legs out of the way and crawled into place next to him.

The last couple of years had been spent wandering around from place to place, restoring temples, building shrines, remembering the forgotten, taking care of the old. In his travels, he'd hoped for a deity he could take pride in like he used to. When he'd ask them what they wanted from a follower, they'd smile knowingly with crooked teeth and sharp eyes and shaky hands.

They knew the truth he was too blind to see.

He'd already found his god.

Now he just needed to prove his devotion.

#jasico #nico di angelo #jason grace #my brain is a little fuzzy so this may or may not make any sense #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #happy's asks #holycaribou #jason exploring different avenues for faith and religion is v important to me #i think that he becomes disillusioned with the idea of jupiter after the second war #because what the god represents and who he is don't align and it sort of crushes him #but anyway nico is jason's favourite deity (even though he's not one) and jason builds him a temple #i think someone (maybe yone?) already has that written down but my brain is fuzzy so like idk #jasonnico

104 notes · View notes

odysseys-blood · 5 months

Note

We live in a world where Echo is real but not Carl Hendricks... fuck this stupid gay world.

nah i saw that man when i went to go see my folks out in tbe boonies see

#cliff finally answers #theunstablejester #also i went to school w/ at least 5 different ppl like him #the characters r written w/ v real personalities and ignoring him being a goat #i also can say ive met several guys who look lie him #so hes real if u can find him #also fucked up that whats on his head is a beanie that shit looks like a durag #and i can say that confidently considering im wearing one right now.#like fr if u meet a fat black guy with a beard. thats carl. i know plenty. and one i know is bisexual of u need me to hook u up-

24 notes · View notes

throughtrialbyfire · 8 months

Text

finally finished the basic refs of my Dragonborn Trio, aka the main cast of my Skyrim longfic, "Cycle of the Serpent"!! i made these mostly to have dress up dolls of the characters for my own future use, like when they obtain new armor or clothing for guilds and factions, and wanted to share them here!

emeros uses he/him, wyndrelis uses he/him, and athenath uses they/he!

more information about them can be found on my OCs page!

#skyrim oc #tesblr #ldb #skyrim #altmer #bosmer #dunmer #elder scrolls #tes v #tes skyrim #my art #oc ; emeros #oc ; wyndrelis #oc ; athenath #bishop.txt #cycle of the serpent #i know the uploaded length of the fic thus far isnt very long #but what i have written and Havent posted is almost 53k words and they arent even at the bards college (first Real arc) yet

31 notes · View notes

padfootastic · 1 year

Text

summary: from euphemia to james to sirius to harry to lily luna—traditions passed down through the generations of potters. love in the form of feeding your people, aloo paranthas as a labor of love etc etc

a labor of love

(also on ao3!)

August, 1970

“Jamie, breakfast’s ready!”

Loud steps thundered around the house as her ten year old raced down the stairs. Euphemia didn’t even bother to reprimand him at this point—she knew it was a pointless endeavour. Instead, she made sure the safety charms on the staircase were always updated.

“HiMumGoodMorningWhatsForBreakfast,” James’ words came out in one single whoosh of air and it was only because this was her child that she had extensive experience with that she could decode what he was saying.

She smiled gently while placing the plate in front of him. “Aloo parantha, honey.”

“Yesss,” James hissed in pleasure, a quick fist pumped in the air, before bending forward with his nose mere millimetres away from the paranthas.

Euphemia swapped the back of his head with a ‘tsk’. “James. How many times have I told you not to smell your food? You’re not a dog.”

“Ma, you don’t get it, okay. It smells so good,” he replied with a goofy, cross-eyed expression. “Seriously, whenever I go to heaven, I just know it’ll smell like fried potato and ghee and coriander. Life can’t get any better than this.”

Euphemia could only smile at the innocent look of wonder on her son’s face as he tore a piece off to stuff it in his mouth, hoping it always stayed there. If she had to keep making him aloo paranthas every morning to keep it there, she’d happily do so.

August, 1976

Sirius huddled closer into the wall, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to count his breaths so he didn’t go so fast anymore.

It was some ungodly time of the day and he was sitting on the floor, pressed right up against the corner of the living room of Potter Manor, having a minor—really, not a big deal at all—panic attack about…well, everything.

It hadn’t been two days since he’d run away from Grimmauld Place and already the hopelessness was settling into his bones. He couldn’t stop replaying the words and curses and taunts and Reg’s face and—

“Sirius?” A drowsy voice cut through his spiral. He shouldn’t be surprised.

James always had a way of doing that.

“H-Hi, Jamie,” he replied, straightening up and wiping his eyes in a futile attempt to hide the tears he could feel pooling there. It wouldn’t work, he knew that, James always, always knew but he still had to try.

Sure enough, a pair of sock clad feet (adorned in little animated snitches) stopped right in front of him. His gaze traveled slowly, reluctantly, up to see James looking at him with a complicated look on his face. It was a mixture of sadness and frustration and resignation. Sirius hated that he put it there. James wasn’t made for expressions like that—he should always be happy, smiling, and this felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

Before he could do anything, though (not that there was much in his control), a hand entered his vision, palm up in invitation. Without even thinking twice about it—he would always choose James—he let himself be pulled up and straight into strong arms that were the only thing keeping him whole and grounded so far.

The hug ended in less time than it took for him to draw a full, shaky, breath. The abruptness of it left him reeling.

“Come on,” James said, tugging him in the direction of the kitchen. Sirius followed, confused, letting himself be manhandled into the kitchen stool and watched James take something out of the cooking cabinet.

“Boiled potatoes,” he explained, already moving on to the spice rack. “Mum always keeps some ready to go.”

With quick, practiced movements, James had them peeled and mashed. Another sealed container was retrieved—‘Dough. For the rotis’—and a flat top griddle was placed on the stove.

Sirius watched the whole thing in a daze, unable to identify a single thing but being comforted all the same. It felt almost like a ritual; the rhythmic movements of James’ hands as he rolled the dough into balls, and stuffed them with the potatoes. Watching him smooth it out into a round, flat shape.

“I didn’t know you were so proficient in the kitchen, Prongs,” Sirius finally said as the kitchen warmed up from his best mate’s ministrations, the smell of ghee-fried dough and spiced potatoes permeating the air.

“I’m not, really,” James shrugged. “But aloo paranthas are—they’re different, you know? Everyone should know how to make them.“

“I’ve never even tried them.”

“Well, then, everyone should have them at least once in their lives,” James said, firmly.

He placed a plate full of warm, steaming—aloo paranthas in front of Sirius and without even knowing what they really were, he could feel the rest of the tension seeping out of him. It’s a temporary relief, to be sure, but that it happened at all is enough to both awe and excite him.

He looked up at James with wide eyes, only to receive a knowing smile in return.

“Have a bite, Pads,” James pushed the plate closer. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

And he didn’t.

As he sat there and entirely demolished four of the wonderful paranthas—after days of not feeling the slightest pang of hunger—Sirius was helpless against the warmth that suffused his entire being, not just from the heat of the potatoes, but from the boy in front of him who’d decided to take a chance on him. Decided to welcome him not just in his arms but his house, his family.

August, 1995

“Sirius, why are we here?” Harry asked, confused. A minute ago, they were in the garden, talking about something or the other, and then suddenly his godfather had grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the kitchen.

“Because you, my dear Prongslet, have been severely, unforgivably wronged and it’s time to start rectifying that,” Sirius proclaimed, which really didn’t help.

“…huh?”

“You just told me you’ve never had anything but bland, boring British food. Ever.” Sirius stressed the last word, making a point Harry wasn’t quite sure of.

“Yes…because the Dursleys are raging racists and Hogwarts isn’t too creative with its culinary choices,” Harry slowly said, feeling eerily like he was defending himself for…not being able to have a diverse palette?

“Exactly. If James had a grave, he’d be rolling around in it.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Look, I was supposed to do this for you since the day you were old enough to eat solids. That I didn’t…well. Let’s not go there right now. But now that I do have the chance, it’s practically first on the list of my godfatherly duties—“

“What is, Sirius?” Harry asked, slightly exasperated. The man was making no sense.

“Making aloo paranthas, Harry! Come on, keep up, it’s bad enough you’ve gone this far without—any longer and I swear, James will find a way to come back to wring my neck and tie you to a chair just so he could force feed you,” Sirius finished, a slightly haunted look in his eyes like he was speaking from experience.

Harry blinked. What—?

“Now, luckily for us, the boiled potatoes are already done. You’ve got me to thank for that bit of foresight, of course, never go without since fifth year—“

“Why?”

“—because they’re so versatile—“

“Right, of course, how silly of me.”

“Yes. So, now you’ve gotta peel and mash it, and none of that ricer or fork nonsense, either, okay? You’ve gotta really get in there with your hands.” Sirius demonstrated by taking one slightly cold potato from the bowl, expertly peeling and crushing it between his fingers. He kept going until it was almost smooth, with just the smallest hint of texture. Once done, he turned expectantly towards Harry, eyebrow raised and ‘go on’ written all over his face.

Still slightly bemused, Harry stepped forward and gingerly took a potato of his own. Trying to peel it was—not as easy as he thought and everything else faded away as he concentrated on making sure no brown bits remained. It was a surprisingly soothing task. When he had his first potato peeled and mashed, he turned to Sirius proudly.

“There. What next?”

Sirius nodded in approval. “Now, we do the rest of it.”

And standing there shoulder to shoulder, the two of them managed to get through a veritable mountain of boiled potatoes, interspersed with Sirius’ stories of the Potters, a rare, greedy pleasure for Harry.

“Your grandmum, Euphemia, she’d make this for breakfast every so often. It was James’ favorite and she could never resist his great, big eyes—you get that from him, by the way. Not many people could, mind, but it was particularly effective when he wanted to scam some paranthas out of her.”

and “Your dad wasn’t the best in the kitchen, but this was one thing he was absolutely adamant he learn. Spent hours with Effie and Rani perfecting it, as well.”

Once the potatoes were done, Sirius directed him to the spice cabinet. “Now, this is the most important bit, Harry. Everyone makes their aloo paranthas in their own way. You can have different people following the same recipe and all of their final results would still taste different.”

Harry nodded in understanding. It was a bit like Aunt Petunia’s prized Roast Dinner—she always claimed no one else could make it the way she could, not even letting Harry close to the preparation of it.

“The first time I had this was in fifth year—similar to you, come to think of it—and I’ve experimented after, right? It was so good I had to. I went to many, many places in muggle London—roadside stalls to fine dining, you name it—and not once have I felt the same as when your dad made it with his eyes still half closed and the paranthas a little burnt on the edges and a bit undercooked in the middle. There’s no competition. So. It’s all in the spice, yes?”

Sirius handed him the container of carom seeds. “That being said, the most important bit?”

Harry leaned forward, eager, all hesitation forgotten in the face of a piece of his culture, his family being passed down to him like this.

“You’ve got to—“

August, 2017

“—measure with your heart, okay, Lils?”

Little Lily Luna Potter, only nine but adopting an air of maturity of someone much older, nodded solemnly, taking her dad’s word as gospel.

“This isn’t just food—this is you telling someone you love them. It’s a warm hug. Feeding someone, taking care of them, is no small job. So, forget all this measurements nonsense and just get in there,” Harry finished, nostalgia coating his words as he quoted his own godfather word for word.

“Get in there, Daddy!” Lily-Lu repeated empathetically.

“That’s right,” Harry chuckled, using one hand to ruffle the riotous mane of red curls piled on top of her head. “The next thing to go in is the powdered spices. Which ones are those, again?”

Lily-Lu squinted thoughtfully. “Coriander powder, red chili powder, tyoo-mer-ic, and cumin powder. That’s all of it, right, Daddy?”

Harry smiled at her serious countenance. “There’s just one more you’re missing.”

She frowned, biting her lip and mumbling under breath. “One more? Coriander…chili…cumin…and—and—garam masala! It’s garam masala, isn’t it?” The last few words were said in an excited shout, almost loud enough to startle him but he could only lean forward and place a quick kiss on her forehead in approval.

“Sure is, sweetheart. You’re a quick one, aren’t you?”

“I’m smart, Daddy, you and Mummy say so,” Lily-Lu returned, self-satisfaction radiating from every inch of her little frame

“That’s because you are; the smartest of us all, isn’t it?” Harry teased, while carefully mixing the spices with the potatoes. This one he’d do himself—Lily-Lu’s hands weren’t the steadiest yet.

“Oh!” She exclaimed suddenly, leaning forward. “The salt! You forgot the salt, Daddy.”

Harry blinked in surprise, looking down at his array of ingredients and realised he had.

“Huh. So I have, it seems. Would you like to do the honours, Lulu?” He extended the container towards her, smiling once again at how she was practically vibrating in excitement.

Harry was—not just glad but utterly ecstatic that he could do this, had the opportunity and ability for it. And he had no one but Sirius to thank for it.

Taking care of me even from the afterlife, aren’t you, Siri? he thinks with a silent offering of gratitude to the universe. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for it, for everything.

“And now, the absolute final step?”

“The chopped coriander!” Lily-Lu chirped, already reaching forward to clasp a handful of coriander he’d prepared beforehand. She sprinkled it all over their mixture with a high, bright giggle and Harry could’ve spent an eternity in that moment, with his child beside him and the weight of his family behind him.

#euphemia potter #james potter #sirius black #harry potter #lily luna potter #this is perhaps the most personal thing i’ve ever written.#no other piece of work has more of me and my life in it #and i don’t it will either. i’m not a huge fan of ~reality yeah?#but i was eating aloo paranthas my aunt made me today. feeling exceptionally content.#and remembering the time my grandma made the same for me #and how the way my aunt and mom make it is the literal same taste bc rhe learnt from their mom (grandma)#and how i’m learning to make it the exact same way (about. 75% there i’d say)#and i’m feeding my friends and enjoying seeing the joy on their face #so aloo paranthas are like. nostalgic. and a labor of love. and a symbol of family and affection and generational habits passed down #so u have a whole fic around it bc projection is what i do best #i’m still v apathetic to identity headcanons for the same reasons as before #but this had to be done so that issue is put to the side for a while #also like. why is posting on tumblr so fkn difficult my god #why does it not accept formatted stuff 😭#i’m sure there’s a way to do it but i’m either too stupid or too lazy #but that and the weird spaces it adds between paragraphs will be the death of me some day #anyway. enjoy! i have lots of thoughts about it so feel free to come talk to me about it #massively restraint in myself in the tags & authors notes #this was just supposed to be a lil tumblr drabble but it. just. Grew?#so yah.#pen’s writing

106 notes · View notes