#Yule marble

[martincooneyart]

The Collection Series: In Search of Gallery Representation: 29 Carvings Sold,1 Gifted, 37 For Sale

My Collection Series Marble Sculpture was Carved to be Light, Portable and Fully Emerged in the Real World Unlike traditional stone sculpture of similar dimension that can weigh hundreds of pounds and may only be moved with the assistance of heavy lifting gear, my revolutionary Colorado Yule Marble Collection Series was carved to be picked up and carried, allowing easy movement from one vantage…

View On WordPress

#Collection Series #Colorado #gallery representation #Marble #Martin Cooney #sculptor #Sculpture #Stone Carving #Woody Creek #Yule marble

[festivalsofmargot]

how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Word Count: 

Garreth: ~ 1500 words

Ominis: ~ 1700 words

Sebastian: ~ 1400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst

Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤ 

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red

Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura

Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco

-

Garreth:

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.

You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”

“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.

“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.

“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.

Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him. 

Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.

He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous. 

It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.

“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”

You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”

You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.” 

You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.

“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.

“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.

Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too. 

You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up. 

He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.

“What are you -”

“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.” 

His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated. 

“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”

“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”

“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood. 

Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.

“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.

His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?

You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.

He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.

Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity. 

Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.

“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.

He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous.”

He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.

- 

Ominis:

Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him. 

He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.

He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.

He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning. 

Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you. 

“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.

“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.

He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.

When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.

“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.

He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”

“You’re upset with me.”

You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”

His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.

He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.

“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him. 

You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool. 

Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.

“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Yet you are.”

“I am.”

“Tell me what I’ve done.”

“You... haven’t done anything.”

His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”

He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”

As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave. 

“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”

Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.” 

He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin. 

Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.

He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I want you all to myself.”

He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.” 

He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.

You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”

“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”

“I will, but let’s not talk right now.” 

-

Sebastian:

“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties. 

You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”

He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.

You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball. 

“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.

You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.

“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”

He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”

He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”

“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”

He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.

You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.

He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.

In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.

You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”

His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”

“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"

“I do.” He said with conviction.

“So, like a sibling?”

“I - Well, I -”

“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.

He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him. 

“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.

You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”

Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.

The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”

Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.

The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees. 

Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.

Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.

Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.

You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.

“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.

“Go to Grace.”

He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”

You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”

“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”

You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”

Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.

He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.

#sebastian sallow imagine #ominis gaunt imagine #garreth weasley imagine #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanficiton #garreth weasley fanficiton #Sebastian sallow x reader #Ominis gaunt x reader #garreth weasley x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #garreth weasley x mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley

[jmliebert]

•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙YULE BALL WITH TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

Wearing black, perfectly tailored robes

His face is even more handsome now that his jet-black hair are all slicked back

Showing off his perfect bone-structure 

High cheeks and strong jawline 

He’s to die for

Full of grace, and silent confidence 

His presence is truly magnetic 

The room seems to gravitate towards him 

Although he’s not seeking attention really

When he sees you at the top of the stairs his pupils widens slightly

But other than that he is collected as always

He stretches out his hand towards you in a gentle manner 

Hands cold

So is his soul

Fingers long and slim, with few silver rings on them

Saying sweet nothings into your ear

Enigmatic smile on his face

Your heart skips a beat at that

And you lose your mind when you two are slow dancing 

He’s a perfect dance partner (to no surprise)

Every one of his steps seems effortless 

His hands steady on the small of your back, and he doesn’t get any lower 

You melt in his close embrace

You melt when his cheek touched yours

You melt when he’s looking deep into your eyes

And even beyond them, straight into your soul 

You shiver 

His gaze is so powerful yet you can sense a hint of sadness behind it 

Emptiness hidden deep within 

Which is strange because all he do in life is succeed..

Anyway!!! 

He’s always near you, even if you are not dancing together or talking to each other

Stealing glances 

Getting you your favourite drink (you have no idea how he knows but he just do)

His manners are impeccable and he’s not leaving your side really as you are his date tonight 

But he’s somewhat cold and distanced at all times

Not really here

Only when he kiss you breathless in a hidden corner of a castle you forget all that was before

Away from prying eyes

Only you and him

And then you finally feel truly seen by Tom

Suddenly full of desire, his cold demeanour is fading for a sweet, little moment  

His eyes longing

Gripping your ass hard, pulling your body so close to his it’s almost painful 

His silver rings imprinting on your soft body

And suddenly the moment is all gone, ending as quickly as it has begun

As if nothing had happened Tom fixes his hair and robes

Wipes a single tear from your slightly blushed cheek with his thumb

Leaving you all alone and undone in this hidden corner in the dark

Coming back to his reserved self 

With face sculpted in a marble, lacking of any true emotion yet again 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

 you can find more of my works about tom ♡here♡

#tom riddle imagine #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle imagine #lord voldemort #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle #tom riddle yule ball #yule ball hogwart

[matchavellichor]

Matchavellichor's Masterlist!

ao3 • wattpad

🌶️ = NSFW 🌸 = Fluff 🩸 = Angst

|| Sebastian Sallow ||

Long Night 🌶️ 🌸

Sebastian helps MC unwind after a particularly rough night of adventuring.

A Midnight Reuniting 🌶️🩸

Sebastian pays MC a visit five years after his sentencing to Azkaban.

A Worrisome Box of Chocolates 🌸

Sebastian tries to keep his sanity while watching MC gets showered in gifts and propositions for the Yule Ball coming up. That is, until one gift pushes him well into madness.

A Losing Game 🌶️

Watching his long-time rival and dueling partner kiss someone else ignites feelings in Sebastian that has him questioning just how similar hate is to desire.

Warm Blood on Cool Marble 🩸

Casting an Unforgivable on his friend one fateful night in Slytherin's Scriptorium awakens something ravenous inside of Sebastian.

|| Ominis Gaunt ||

All My Riches for Her Smiles 🌶️ 🌸🩸

Forced into an arranged marriage with MC, Ominis struggles to comfort his best friend-turned-wife.

How to Win the Girl 🌶️ 🌸

After MC proclaims she'll only date someone who beats her in a duel, Ominis grows determined to win the duel and her heart.

You Drew Stars 🌶️ 🌸

Sebastian goes to Feldcroft for winter break, leaving Ominis and MC alone in the castle, where they keep each other plenty of company.

Fair Compensation 🌶️

Ominis is made prefect and quickly grows tired of bailing MC and Sebastian out of trouble. When he catches her in the prefect's bathroom after curfew one night, he expects compensation.

Just this Once 🌶️🩸

Ominis' infatuation leads him to break some of the principles he's held dear to him for the better part of his life.

Kisses Against the Dark Arts 🌸

After dismantling a poacher camp goes astray, Ominis resorts to more unconventional means to free his friend from a dark curse.

Great Expectations 🌸

Urged on by Sebastian's insistence that the reason for MC's evasiveness is that she harbors a secret crush, Ominis decides to take Sebastian's advice and find this out for himself.

A Peculiar Pet 🌸

After MC rescued a strange cat on her latest trip to Hogsmeade, her friendship with Ominis becomes strained by his sudden jealousy.

|| Misc ||

No Better Way to Warm Up 🌶️ 🌸

Sebastian and Ominis stay behind in the castle for winter break to keep MC company during the holidays. Maybe a little bit too much company...

A Misplaced Apparition 🌸

While helping Garreth forage for potion ingredients, a misplaced apparition leaves him and MC magic-less and stranded somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian x mc #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley

[little-diable]

The Ghost of Christmas Future – Loki

Part 3 of my Christmas series! A big thank you to @writingliv for writing this with me, I love working with you! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Loki is visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future and he shows the god something that forces him to find his way back to his past lover.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), some angst, mentions death

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (2.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

Series Masterlist

An almost grim expression tugged on the god’s features, fuelled by the annoyance he felt, by the uneasiness radiating off him. Loki paced his quarters, eyes trying to focus on his book, desperate to distract himself from his mother’s Yule preparations. If there was one thing he detested, it was these celebrations, festive days reminding him of people and stories he needed to forget.

The mere thought of being dragged down memory lane by his heavy heart and his aching mind left the god of mischief groaning, he was better than that, he was better than all these pathetic humans that gave into their emotions. With an angry growl rumbling through him, the book Loki had been holding was tossed to his bed, slender fingers combing through his black hair.

This is why he had let her go. This is why he had pushed her away. This is why he needed to get away from her and the pitiful excuse of a life she lived.

Her. The one his heart had been rather fond of, the woman who had managed to lure the god into her trap. It had been easy, too easy, but who was he to deny a challenge. Loki would always win, no matter the game, no matter the rules – at least that’s what he had always believed, till (y/n) had stumbled into his life.

She had managed to bewitch him within seconds, pulling the man into her grasp before either one of them could understand what was happening. It had happened years ago, years where he had snuck away from Asgard with one of his many tricks, finding joy in the simplicity of Midgard. It had been his own fault, he should have stayed away from there, should have listened to the warnings, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and then suddenly it had been too late.

Loki could still feel her pressed against his body, he could still hear her soft voice murmuring his name, calling him back to bed. Memories he needed to get rid of, fast. He was better than that. He was stronger than that. He was smarter than that. He hadn’t been born to live a simple life, he was a god, made for more. 

But sometimes, just sometimes, he found himself giving into these memories, lingering on the thoughts that painted her features, allowing him to pick up on the sound of her loud laughter, allowing him to feel her soft skin beneath his cold fingertips. It was torture, pure torture, and yet the feeling had a bittersweet touch to it. An almost addictive pain.

He plopped down on his bed, eyes focused on the expensive looking ceiling, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes of getting rid of his memories, a useless try that only pulled him further down the rabbit hole. His teeth grazed his lower lip, about to draw blood, about to sink into the flesh she had kissed many moons ago. 

Before he could try to sleep away his memories, wanting to dream of a better life, of an exciting future, he heard his name being called, eyes snapping open. His heart was pounding, beating against his ribcage as he looked at the unfamiliar being standing near his bed. 

Loki had seen many ominous creatures in his life, but none looked like this. The spirit seemed to levitate above the ground, only its cloak gracing the marble floor. No face was visible as a grey hood loomed a shadow over any possible features, emanating a freezing chill that ran down the god’s back.

Loki shot up, his hand immediately searching the knife he kept by his bed. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” He asked, ignoring the way his breath had suddenly condensed in front of his lips. 

“Silly prince, who am I, you ask?” The voice spoke, letting neither its gender nor species be revealed. 

“How dare y-” Loki sneered at the creature until it approached him, forcing him to hold his breath. 

“I do not have the time for your scandals, prince. I am here to show you something. Follow me,” the creature turned, hitting Loki with its cloak that felt just like a thicker blow of air. It didn’t turn around to check if the god was following; instead, it walked out of the room and sped its pace. Loki had barely the time to react, following the creature as quickly as it could. 

“Where are we going?” The god asked, short of breath as they made their way out of the castle. The halls were empty, it seemed like everyone had disappeared from existence. The ghost did not answer. Instead, it switched directions, almost causing Loki to trip. 

“Where are we going? I demand to know,” Loki doubled down as he regained his balance, jogging to catch up the lost distance. 

The ghost suddenly stopped, turning back to the god for a glance before looking forward again, nothing more than the deep dark forest standing in front of them. “We are late. A funeral.”

“Wh-” Loki tried to ask, confused. Funeral? Whose funeral? He didn’t know anyone that had died recently. His question, however, died in his throat as fog covered the previously dark forest, acting as a canvas where an image started to form. 

Flowers, dozens upon dozens of vases and bouquets filled to the brim with tulips. Midgardian flowers. Loki frowned. His stomach turned. What? He continued to watch the image develop right before his eyes as rows of people filled a snowy cemetery. Cries and moans filled the empty winter air suddenly, far too familiar yet strange for him to point out. 

“Why are you showing me this?” He finally broke the silence, his voice cracking under the pressure in his chest. 

“How long do midgardians tend to live, prince?” The voice replied, still staring at the image upon them.

“A century? I-” Loki’s head felt as if it was spinning, every Midgardian he had ever met running through his mind. A thought tried to form, but he suppressed it. No. She was maybe thirty by now. She couldn’t-

“If they are healthy. If nothing happens,” The voice doubled down in a dreamy tone. His thoughts were seemingly elsewhere. “Weren’t you the one that loved to underscore their fragility?”

“I-” Loki tried to speak, but his lungs burned, his eyes trying their best to focus on the details of the image upon him, ignoring the sobbing cries. 

“Wasn’t she particularly careless?” The ghost finally spoke, and Loki felt his knees buckle. no. 

It couldn’t be. He would have found out. He would have known. They would have told him… but how? How? If he had left without telling anyone, simply kissing her on the forehead like he had done every other morning and walking out, never to be seen again? Why would they tell him even if they could? He had done nothing but hurt her. 

No. 

Loki shook his head. 

„You’re lying to me, why are you doing this? Who are you?” One question after another rolled off Loki’s tongue, filling the silence he found himself engulfed by. But the ghost didn’t reply, he kept watching the scene in front of them play out. 

Loki had to stop himself from vomiting, unable to stop the bile from rising up in his throat. This had been his wrong doing, his selfishness that had lured him away from her, her, the one his head had grown fond of.

There wasn’t a day where he didn’t think of her, of (y/n), the love he hadn’t got to feel in many moons. The dark voice inside his head had promised him that he was destined for more, made for something by far bigger than what she could offer. 

How wrong he had been. How foolish he had been.

“I understand, I do. But please, take me away from here.” The ghost turned back towards Loki, staring him down for a few seconds, watching the tears roll down his cheeks, before the scene finally vanished. Loki’s head was spinning, eyes struggling to focus on something as the ghost kept speaking.

“It’s on you to decide, but remember, the time she has is limited, don’t let any more of it go to waste.” And with one last exhale, the ghost was gone, leaving Loki trapped in nothing but an uncomfortable darkness flooding through his room. 

……

„Loki? What am I doing here? Where am I?“ A relieved sigh left Loki as he stared down at her, taking in the features he had last seen in one of his nightmares. His heart was still aching, racing in his chest at the mere thought of ever losing her to Death’s cold grasp.

“You’re in Asgard, I had to see you.” She had been forcefully awoken from her dream, unable to pierce together what was happening as she was dragged away from her home. And yet she hadn’t protested, not speaking up as a wave of familiar comfortableness had flushed through her.

“You kidnap me, because you have to see me? Is that all?” (Y/n) had always been good at seeing through his lies, eyes not letting go of his as she slowly reached out to cup his cheek. Sparks shot down Loki’s back at the familiar touch, oh how he had secretly longed to feel her close once again. 

“You were dead, I saw it, saw your dead body.” Confusion tugged on her features, not understanding what the god was speaking. He shook his head to try and get rid of the pictures flushing through his mind once again. “It was in the future, far from now, and yet I couldn’t stand myself for letting you go. I needed to see you, prove myself that you’re still alive.”

“Oh, Loki.” He dipped his head down, lips ghosting over hers. No longer did he want to share any meaningless words, no, he wanted to feel her close, wanted to touch the body he had once known like the back of his hand. The kiss was fuelled by their still burning love, tying the two closer together as he pushed her against his best, crawling on top of (y/n). 

He could hear her heart racing, could feel her gasps leaving her. Sounds that left him grinning in mischief. His hands started wandering, long fingers that knew their way down to her heat, the place where she ached for him. The moment had something almost unreal to it, like a dream, a faded memory, Loki couldn’t help but wonder if yet another ghost was playing a trick on him, but her sounds were too strong, too honest. 

“I damned you for a long time, cursed your name. But yet my body has never not been yours, forever connected with you.” Another kiss was pressed against her lips as his fingers disappeared inside her sweats, teasing the thin fabric of her panties. She has soaked through the fabric, dripping for him, him only. 

Within seconds he had her undressed, fabrics finding their way to the ground as he let go of her. Their eyes held contact, allowing her to watch him settle between her thighs, lips kissing their way to her cunt. Soft moans left her, one hand finding his locks as the other tightened its grip on the blanket she was laying on. 

“My pretty flower, I missed your taste, I missed your sweet sounds, oh how I missed you.” His tongue brushed through her folds, moaning at her taste as (y/n) arched her back off the mattress. Loki ate her out like a starving man, feasting from her with groans clawing through the two in unison. 

For months they had dreamt of moments like this, never willingly admitting to it, even though they were caught by them, unable to escape. His arms found their way around her thighs, keeping her close as he dipped his tongue into her tightness, thumb circling her pulsing bundle. 

She was a shuddering mess, made for the God’s eyes, for his hands, and his tongue. She was his, in all her glory. And deep down Loki couldn’t help but promise to her, and to himself, that she’d never leave his side again.

His name rolled off her tongue, like a dark secret spoken in the depth of the night, like a prayer made to save her damned soul. A sound that left Loki groaning in satisfaction, adding more speed to the movements of his tongue and fingers. She was close, he could tell, and all he was focused on was making her cum on his tongue.

(Y/n) tightened her grip on his locks, eyes squeezed shut to give into the quiet call of her name. She came with a loud gasp, head thrown back, teeth buried in her lower lip. Loki watched her unfold, kept fucking her with his tongue through her high, before he slowly let go of her.

The god crawled up her body, lips meeting hers to allow (y/n) to taste herself before he plopped down next to her, pulling her into his chest. And with another kiss pressed to her forehead he tightened his grip on her, promising to hold her close till the end of her time.

#Loki smut #little-diable christmas23 #Loki x reader #Loki imagine #marvel smut

[sulumuns-dootah]

26.12. Leviathan - Banquet for two (18+)

    ༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

‎‧₊˚✧ 18+ Minors Do Not Interact‎ ✧˚₊‧

    ༺☆༻

The halls of the Hades castle are so eerie during the night while everyone is away. Or at least somewhere else in the castle. More precisely in the grand hall where the annual holiday banquet is thrown. Everyone who means something is there. Guests from Hades as well as all the other countries in Hell. Everyone except for the king of Hades, Leviathan himself.

You were excited for the banquet. You've even had a dress made specifically for this occasion. But instead of everyone talking about how gorgeous it is, everyone is discussing the absence of Leviathan. Not to sound dramatic, but it's like you're almost invisible since someone who is not there is more important. As if the guests didn't know how much Leviathan hates being around other people.

With a slight irritation you decide to leave under the guise of bringing Levi some food. If someone's absence is more interesting, then why not be absent too? Leaning to your side to Glasyalabolas, you let him know that you'll go check up on the missing king. He hands you the plate which was meant to be eaten from by Leviathan after putting a portion of the king's favorite fish steaks on it.

So now you're walking through the halls to Leviathan's quarters. Originally you thought about just going to your room and eating the steaks yourself, but you kinda feel bad for the king. The heavy expectations laying on him to be social despite having a severe agoraphobia. No wonder he spends most of the time hiding away in his rooms.

When you finally reach the door to his room, the air suddenly turns cold. The knocks on the massive doors resound in the empty hall. After a short while a voice beckons you to come in.

The room is colder than in the hall and quickly looking for Leviathan, you find out why. One of the windows is open and he's sitting in the windowsill, looking out on the city covered in snow. It's already dark, but the street lamp light bounces off all the white and creates a glow on its own.

“I've brought you some food, your majesty. Your absence is the main topic of discussions.” you say with a hint of bitterness.

“Then why aren't you out there gossiping too?” Leviathan answers without even looking your way.

“I was bored. No matter how important those devils are, they can't uphold an interesting conversation if their life depended on it.” you sigh and set the plate on the windowsill right by Levi's legs. This seem to finally break him from the trance of the glowing white cityscape and he looks at you.

“That's a lovely dress. I want a shirt made out of that fabric.” he says plainly and moves to sit with his back turned to the outside, burning you with his gaze.

“Sure, I'll let the seamstress know.” you say, happy that finally someone noticed.

“Say, you were bored at the celebration, would you maybe keep me company here then? I'm certain I can uphold a decent conversation much more than those fools.” Leviathan jumps off the windowsill, taking the plate with him to the bathroom. You follow him, uncertain what will happen, but as it turns out, he's decided to enjoy his fish steaks in the comfort of his thankfully empty bathtub. You wouldn't want to get your dress wet if he invited you along into the bathtub too.

But it seems just that happens. Leviathan sits down on one end of the marble tub with plenty enough space left for you and the volume of your dress. The many layers of tulle help cushion the hard surface. Levi places the plate down between the two of you and starts eating. The steaks look good, but you know your manners and don't take any unless he offers you one.

None of you speak up until the plate is empty. Leviathan then sets the plate outside of the bathtub and reaches out to feel the material of your chiffon shawl, ”Such a soft material. It must feel even better constricting around my neck. Would you do that for me?”

“Uhm... Excuse me?” you blink, startled that he would request something so intimate from you.

“I believe I made myself clear. But I understand if that's too straight forward of me.” he sounds a bit disappointed. As if shrinking back he rest his back on the bathtub edge and leans his head on the rim with closed eyes, “If that's all, then you can go.”

“N-no, you majesty I would feel honoured.” you're quick to take off the shawl and scrunch it up into something resembling rope. Hopefully it's strong enough.

“Good, then get to it.” Leviathan opens his eyes and lifts his head back up. With slightly shaky hands you wrap the delicate fabric around his swan neck. At first you're unsure if you should really be doing this, but if his majesty wishes to be choked, then who are you to question him.

Remembering the stories from demons who were punished for choking him lightly, you try to choke him with all your strength. Hopefully the fabric can withstand such abuse. It seems that Leviathan's pleased with the amount of air he's depraved of, as evident by his eyes rolled back and growing erection.

“T-tou...ch... me...” he demands in a gasp for oxygen when you allow him to take at least some air in so he doesn't suffocate for real. His demand makes your heart race even more. Is he even thinking straight at this point? Before you have any more questions, he grabs your free hand and places it on his now painful boner. Or so you assume, with how much heat it radiates.

You're quick to free him of his constraints to uncover his throbbing and already leaking dick. It makes your mouth water, but just like the fish steaks before, you weren't invited to taste it. Only to touch.

Almost instinctively your hands starts to glide along his shaft, making him gasp for air more franticly. Playing with his tip, collecting more of his precum has him thrusting into your hand, desperate for more friction.

It feels kinda weird to have this much power over the king of a whole kingdom. Have him fully at your mercy. Normally in this situation you'd be also aching for release, but something about this scenario has you feeling like you've already come multiple times.

Slightly distracted, you don't notice your hand loosen up the tension on the shawl around Levi's neck. “T-tighter... s-so... close..!”

Realising your mistake you tug the fabric more tighter than before and that seems to be enough to push Leviathan over the edge. Spurting ropes of milky cum all over his belly and getting some on your dress. If it were any demon you'd be furious, but since it's His Majesty Leviathan, of course you forgive him.

“Not bad, but I still suppose I should teach you how to properly choke someone as there are some mistakes you've made.”

    ༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"I suppose I should gift you with a noose, just like all of my other subordinates. Yet I feel like a necklace would suit your neck much more. "

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad? #whb leviathan #whb smut #the yule festival of hell

[lorrainmorgan]

Serpents meeting for the first time.

[ 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐲 🐍 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ]

⚠️ Long af.

Part 0 Next

Lorra's touch was like a burst of frosty air against his skin as she traced her delicate fingers along his palm, revealing the strategies and movements of the players in the ongoing match, pulling Ominis into the intensity of the game.

The Yule Ball practice was in full swing, with students from third year up, gathered in a spacious classroom adorned with elegant chandeliers and ornate mirrors. Professors Hecat and Sharp stood at the front of the room, their voices ringing out as they taught the students how to ball dance. 

Ominis Gaunt, with his sharp senses heightened by his blindness, took in the sounds of shuffling feet and whispered instructions. Despite being an expert on the matter, he couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy towards the pairs already twirling across the floor. He seemed uninterested in the lesson. Why would anyone want to dann-cce with a blind man, anyway? He thought to himself, feeling a twinge of bitterness.

He’d refused to waste time explaining his expertise to anyone – instead, he simply waited for the demonstration to be over so he could return to his daydreams in peace. The music swelled around him, filling him with both nostalgia and longing for something more than just this mundane dance lesson.

"Ah!, Mr. Gaunt," Professor Sharp's voice cut through the chatter of the ballroom. "I see you still haven't found a partner." How obss-sservative… Ominis thought to himself as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, dreading what was to come next. 

"I’m aware that Ball Dancing is a tradition in The Gaunt family. Correct? Well if you would be so kind as to join Miss Morgana and impart her the art of dancing." Mr. Sharp motioned towards a young woman, who was gracefully making her way towards them.  "Due to personal matters, she has just been transferred, so I urge you to extend a proper Hogwarts welcome, Mr. Gaunt." The professor's gaze rested on Ominis, silently urging him to step out of his comfort zone and make new friends.

As the new girl drew closer, Ominis could hear the delicate sound of her heels clicking against the polished marble floor, and a warm, sweet scent filling the atmosphere around him . She had a coy smile on her lips, and her long hair flowed behind her like a carmain waterfall. The setting sun cast a warm glow upon her, making her skin appear almost ethereal and her emerald eyes shining through her long lashes. 

But at the mention of teaching someone, Ominis couldn't help but let out a groan. The simple thought of having to guide someone through the tricky steps of ballroom dancing was nothing short of a nightmare for him. But he also knew that it was expected of him to comply with Professor Sharp's request.

With a heavy sigh and a lazy grip on his wand, he rose from his seat and made his way over to meet Lorrain Morgana, who looked at him with uncertain eyes. His frown deepened as he considered the task ahead of him, but he couldn't help feeling a small spark of curiosity about this girl who needed to be taught how to dance.

Finally, a soft female voice floated through the air, not too close, not too far away. "Hello Gaunt," she said, introducing herself as Lorrain."I believe you're my partner for today's practice?" Her tone was friendly and inviting.

Ominis shifted slightly, his posture tense and guarded.

"That is correct... I’m  Ominis," he mumbled softly, a hint of superiority in his tone. It was no surprise, considering his wealthy background and upbringing.

Extending his free hand, Ominis waited patiently for the girl to take it. As she did, he drew her closer to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand effortlessly found its place on her small frame, tracing the delicate curves of her feminine figure. She responded by placing her arm on his shoulder, falling into a perfect ballroom posture without hesitation.

He couldn't help but be surprised by how well they fit together in their dance positions. Instead of feeling annoyed with her, as he had initially been. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as they moved together in perfect synchronization, as if they had been dancing partners for years instead of mere strangers meeting for the first time.

Despite having the feeling that his partner was already an experienced dancer, Ominis couldn't resist explaining the steps for the footwork. He led her through each move with gentle guidance, reveling in the way she caught on quickly and stumbled only a few times, always quick to apologize and laugh at her own clumsiness.

"Sorry, Ominis, be patient with your new student" Lorrain said between giggles. 

Her laughter was like music to Ominis's ears. It was so beautiful, so enchanting. Like a tiny bell ringing in the distance, calling out to him. And when she laughed, he couldn't help but join in.

As they danced, their surroundings faded into the background until it felt like they were the only two people in the room. The music became mere background noise as they twirled and swayed to their own rhythm, caught up in the magic of each other's presence. 

The melody of the piano intensified, filling the room with its graceful notes. Their dance quickened in pace, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony as they became closer in distance. He could tell that she had danced before, her movements fluid and confident as they performed more complicated routines.

As he prepared to lift her briefly into the air, she could feel his breath brush against her cheek. He spun her around, taking pleasure in the way she moved with him. It was unlike anything they had experienced before.

He couldn't help but notice how perfectly her body fit into his hands, every curve and line seeming to belong there. To him. 

His voice was barely a whisper as he asked her softly, "Why did you lie about not knowing how to dance? You clearly know how to put on a performance " There was a flutter of anticipation in his belly as he waited for her response.

Her answer came with a slight hesitation, almost like a secret she didn't want to reveal. 

“I guess it came naturally, thanks to my partner." A mischievous glint sparked in her eye as she responded playfully. 

The music faded away, and with it, their dance practice came to an end.

The way their hands fit together was like a perfect puzzle. His fingers laced into hers as he stared at her with a blind gaze. His eyes were like two piercing crystal orbs, gathering the raw power of a raging thunderstorm within them. The vivid blue hue that dominated their depths seemed to crackle with lightning. 

"You can let go of my hand now," she whispered softly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"Oh...sorry…I didn't hear the music stop," Ominis quickly lied, his voice betraying him with a hint of shyness. Of course he heard the music stop; he was blind, not stupid… nor deaf.

He released her hand, feeling an odd emptiness where it once was. It was almost ticklish, as if her touch had left behind a lingering sensation on his skin.

As the clock struck the end of their previous class, Professor Sharp announced a generous 3-hour recess before their next one. The students' excitement was in the air as they eagerly dispersed thru the Defense Against The Dark Arts Tower to enjoy their newfound free time.

But for Ominis, this sudden break was a chance to process and make sense of what had just transpired. He wandered the halls, searching for a solitary spot where he could sort through his thoughts undisturbed. 

At long last, Ominis found his way to the floor and settled into his cherished spot. He leaned back against the cool marble wall, stretching out his legs in front of him with a satisfied sigh. The winter sun cast soft hues through the stained glass windows, bathing his pale face. He waited patiently for his best friend Sebastian Sallow to finish up with his wand training at CrossWands, absently running his hand over the smooth wooden surface of his wand.

He found himself drifting off to sleep on the floor, but was suddenly jolted awake by a loud voice echoing through the hall. "Are you enjoying your day nap?" 

Ominis' eyes shot open in surprise, his wand in front of him trying to locate the source of the voice. With a quick clearing of his throat and a slight shift in his position, he attempted to compose himself and appear less startled. "Er, um, yes, I was just resting...my eyes?" 

The sweet scent of cinnamon wafted towards Ominis, mingling with the sound of the loud gentle voice and the soft thud of a pair of heels approaching him. The combination made his head spin with a dizzying happiness. "Ah, if it isn't Lorrain, the girl who doesn't know how to dance..." he said, unable to contain a hint of sarcasm in his words.

"My friends call me Lorra," she replied with a mischievous smile, playfully poking his shoulder.

As she settled herself next to him, her long hair cascaded over her shoulders like red silk. "I'm jealous of you," Lorra continued "Napping anywhere you want...if I may ask, why do you always sleep on the floor?" 

Ominis felt his ears grow warm as he realized he was being confronted about his unusual sleeping habits. He nervously scratched the back of his head and fidgeted with his wand, avoiding eye contact with the other Slytherin student. With a timid chuckle, he replied softly, "Well, I suppose I've just grown used to it. It's...a long story." His cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as he desperately tried to change the subject.

She understood right away that something personal was on Ominis' mind. The tension in his voice and the way he avoided eye contact spoke volumes. "You don't have to tell me," she reassured him, sensing his hesitation.

"I find Potions quite interesting, which brings me here to ask you a small favor: I need help with a rather advanced lesson. Would you mind helping me? Everyone else is going to the Quidditch match early tonight but I'd prefer getting over this assignment as soon as possible." 

The request seemed out of character for Ominis, who was, in his own words “rubbish at potion’s class”.

"I'm not sure if I would be of much assistance," he hesitantly replied, his tone slightly uncertain. He wasn't particularly skilled in Potions…however, a small part of him longed for some attention and wanted to help out. He looked at her with hopeful eyes, expecting her to politely decline his offer.

But instead, she smiled and continued speaking "I understand your hesitation, but I have found that teaching others is the best way for me to study and retain information. Unfortunately, my previous partner, Amit, is nowhere to be found… Would you still be interested in lending a hand?" 

"Alright Lorra," he said with a forced nonchalance, "but I must warn you, my potions skills are...lacking."

The girl let out a delighted squeal at his acceptance, causing him to feel a rush of warmth and joy.

"Great!" she exclaimed, her excitement palpable. "I'll see you at dinner tonight and we'll head off to potions classroom together, yes?" She stood up from the floor and reached out her hand to help him up as well.

Ominis lifted his wand in front of him as if to see her gesture. She waited patiently for him, her hand still outstretched. After a moment, he took her hand and stood up, feeling a surge of contentment and safety wash over him. Ominis had always been drawn to friendly personalities, and Lorrain had all the right qualities to put his attention on her.

He nodded his head in excitement. 

"Goodbye for now, Ominis Gaunt," she said softly, reluctantly releasing his hand. Her fingers tingled where they had made contact with his cold skin, but there was something more that captivated her - a sense of mystery and intrigue that left her curious and wanting more from her new friend.

At Dinner, Ominis settled into his usual spot at the Slytherin table at the Great Hall, surrounded by his closest friends. Among them were Imelda and Sebastian, their voices blending together in idle chatter as they ate. The sound of silverware clinking against plates filled the air, creating a peaceful background noise that eased their nerves before the upcoming Quidditch match. Despite the lively atmosphere, Ominis couldn't shake the memory of Lorra. His mind was consumed with thoughts of her as he absentmindedly joined in on the conversation.

In a sudden flurry of movement, Lorrain appeared at the table. She boldly took a seat next to Reyes, despite her initial apprehension towards new students, the two seemed to hit it off quite well. Meanwhile, Sebastian recounted his fierce duel earlier that day, catching them up on all the thrilling details. As they laughed and chatted, their dinner almost grew cold on their plates.

"Well, the supper was delicious as always but I better get going!" Lorra declared, wipping her mouth with a napkin after finishing her meal.

Imelda's face contorted with anger at Lorrain's words. "Wait, you're not going to my match? We're playing against Ravenclaw! You promised you'd come, Lorrain Morgana..." Her voice trailed off into a heated whisper.

"And I AM coming, Imelda Reyes" Lorra retorted, throwing a potato chip at her friend playfully. "I just need to finish an assignment first... quit hounding me." She turned to look at Ominis sitting across the table, hoping he had heard her plea.

"Oh, right! Me too, potions shouldn't be too hard for me as I know most of the topics already..." he mumbled and quickly cleared his throat and tried to keep the mood lively. "Yes, I'll see you later, for potions then!"

Lorra laughed at Ominis' attempt to appear cool and collected. She couldn't help but find it endearing. Sebastian and Imelda exchanged a look of concern, their faces grimacing in response to their friend's desperate display.

"That was painful to watch," Imelda whispered to Sebastian, her tone dripping with pity.

"What on Merlin's name was that, Ominis? You, helping someone in potions? Are you trying to cause mass annihilation?" Sebastian burst into laughter at the absurdity of the idea.

“Oh, Shut up both of you!” Ominis' annoyed voice spat out, his cheeks and ears flushed red with frustration as he stood up from the table and began to march in her direction.

As they were arriving at the dungeons, the smell of Garreth Weasley’s most recent failure potion stuck their noses, making them giggle at his friend’s attempt on brewing and Invisibility potion without assistance…

“Let’s get started before the Quidditch match begins. Imelda will have my head if I don't show up,” she stated firmly while grabbing Ominis' shoulder for support.

His eyes widened as she unexpectedly grabbed his shoulder. He shivered, but kept his cool nonetheless and cleared his throat in hopes of gaining some confidence. He quickly nodded his head as he smiled.

"Yes, of course. What are we making again?"

“A Focus potion… now come on Gaunt”. She noticed his discomfort with physical contact and swiftly removed her hand from his shoulder with a gentle pat before leading the way into the classroom.

As they moved around the room, the clinking of bottles and thud of heavy books filled the air, joined by the array of smells - sweet, earthy, and a hint of something sharp and pungent. Some other students were there too, but paid no mind to the new arrivals. Lorrain carefully laid out all of the ingredients on an empty table, making sure they were close at hand. 

Despite their earlier awkwardness, they worked well together, smoothly mixing and stirring the ingredients. She focused on her notes and went over them a couple of times.

Sitting across from her, Ominis listened intently as she explained each step. He was happy and somewhat surprised that the potion brewing was going successfully, although he didn't recall having that lesson in Professor Sharp’s class before . Altho not being particularly good at his class, Ominis tried hard, and it seemed to be paying off. He was glad to do it in good company too. 

Despite his efforts, he couldn't keep the girl from occupying his thoughts. There was something irresistible about her, drawing him in like a powerful magnet.

“I'm going to move closer so I can observe your potion-making technique, Ominis,” she said calmly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. She knew he was highly attuned to his surroundings thanks to his wand, but her statement came naturally nonetheless. As she leaned closer to inspect the potion, she couldn't help but notice his fresh scent, like a burst of ice mint aroma hitting her nose. 

The blonde tried to maintain a calm demeanor, but his nerves were quickly getting the better of him. Her presence alone seemed to fluster and unsettle him. The cauldron bubbled and steamed as Lorra carefully added in the final ingredients. 

Ominis waited with eager anticipation, a smile spreading across his face as he heard the girl say that the potion had turned bright blue, just as it was supposed to. "You did great, Ominis!" Lorra exclaimed with a smile.

"The potion is ready and our brewing was successful”. She poured it on a small crystal clear bottle and left it on Professor’s Sharp’s desk. “Sorry for the hurry, but I better get going to that match. It was really nice studying with you, Ominis Gaunt," she said while gathering her materials. 

"Likewise..." Ominis replied, feeling a hint of disappointment that their time together was coming to an end. "Oh, um...are you still going to the Quidditch match?" He mentally kicked himself for asking such a lame question. Of coursess-ss she is going, ss-sshe just ss-ssaid it, you stupid piecc-cce of ss-ss..

She paused at the doorway, her body turned towards him as she waited for him to answer his own obvious question. But Ominis remained blank and empty-brained, as if he were in a daze. She couldn't help but wonder if he was even listening to himself. "Earth calling Ominis?" she thought with a small smile. 

Despite his lack of response, she felt confident enough to continue. "Yes, Would you like to join me?" she asked.

 Without hesitation, Ominis almost shouted his answer and leapt from his seat, eagerly making his way to join her. As he walked, he tried to compose himself. For the love of Salazz-zzar, Gaunt… composs-se yourself, pleass-sse…

The evening had descended upon Hogwarts, casting a dark blue hue over the Quidditch Stadium. The stands were filled with cheering fans, their faces painted with the colors of their house’s teams, themed scarfs and vibrant color sweaters along the picture. Green and blue flags fluttered in the breeze, dividing the stadium into two halves. 

 As they made their way through the bustling crowd, Ominis couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the bright lights and loud noise. He could feel his anxiety building as the crowd grew larger and louder. His wand allowed him to see dark silhouettes, almost like auras, and capture the essence of objects, but huge crowds and loud noises were overwhelming for him. He tried to appear calm, but deep down, he was struggling to keep his cool in this chaotic environment.

Going up the stairs, Lorra gently placed her arm around his, offering support and comfort. He wasn't being pulled… nor guided… he was being accompanied, like walking with an old friend down the bustling streets of Hogsmeade after a night of too much butterbeer.

“Lorra! You won't believe the incredible Astronomy table I stumbled upon at the Highlands!” Amit Takhar's voice echoed up to them from two floors down, filled with excitement and enthusiasm.

“You traitor! How could you go without me?” Lorra shouted back with equal enthusiasm, almost leaving Ominis deaf in the process.

“I owe you one, promise!” Amit replied as he disappeared into the Ravenclaw's stands.

Lorra and Ominis began to search for a spot among the crowded stands, hoping for a place where they could both stand and sit comfortably. But luck was not on their side. This was the perfect opportunity for Ominis to flaunt his status and power to impress Lorra.

“You know, we could always join the prefects, up in the higher tower,” Ominis offered with a hint of pride in his tone.

“Ooohhh, lead the way Lord Gaunt,” Lorra said, imitating the Headmaster's distinguished voice. This caused Ominis to giggle “Don't call me that, you sounded like a house elf.”

The pair ascended high above the normal stands, their path guided by welcoming Slytherin prefects. Settling in the middle of the center bench, they were in the perfect spot to fully immerse themselves in the match. 

The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the court as the teams entered the field on their brooms. Ominis leaned forward and set his wand down, placing his hands on his knees. He let out a deep sigh, knowing that trying to follow the action with his wand would be futile. The quick movements and chaotic jumble of players would only appear as pitch black silhouettes, making it impossible to decipher who was doing what. Instead, he chose to simply sit back and take in all the lively chaos happening around him. 

Cheers and boisterous clapping echoed throughout the stadium, adding to the vibrant atmosphere. It was a true display of buffoonery at its finest, and Ominis was content to just enjoy it all without overthinking or analyzing. 

Without warning, Ominis felt a pair of cold, small fingers wrap around his hand and turn it palm-up. Lorra's touch was like a burst of frosty air against his skin as she traced her delicate fingers along his palm, revealing the strategies and movements of the players in the ongoing match, pulling Ominis into the intensity of the game.

"Imelda told me she was going to chase Martha Agripa in the first quarter so she'd get nervous, brilliant tactic if you ask me! " Lorra began to explain, tracing her fingers along Ominis' palm. He couldn't deny the thrill of having her attention. 

"Darnit Sallow, FASTER!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, caught up in the passion of the game. From time to time, her grip would tighten with excitement or frustration, causing Ominis to giggle from the pressure.

The heat from their clasped hands mingled with the electric atmosphere of the game, making his palms slick with sweat. This moment, this shared experience with someone like Lorra her, showed him a deeper connection than even his wand couldn't have revealed before. It was like if they've had this unspoken bond for years, it just felt so familiar. So natural, to both of them.

Notes:

👉 Idk if anybody is reading this ff but if you're: Thankyou! 🫰means a bunch. What started out as mere therapy has become a hobby 🐍✨

👉 One more chapter to go until everything is connected to Chapter 2

👉 the difference between my writing here and on the first chapters are... significant... so I might re write the first ones too so they match the same style

👉 yep, I'll upload this ff on Wattpad. What started as a short story, become a little more complex...

#ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #ominis gaunt fanfiction #imelda reyes #quidditch #illustration #art #looking thru my eyes #ominis gaunt fanart #ominis smut #slytherin

[fear-less]

omg could u write a maroon x fred weasley fic ? I think that would go amazing, but ofc it's all up to you 💘

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 maroon

pairing: fred weasley x reader

warnings: angst, some fluff, implied gryffindor reader¿, SOME parts are cringe 😭🙏😢

a/n: my first request ahh!!! i tried to finish this as quickly as i could but this was lowkey hard to do😭 i was struggling so forgive me if it isn’t to ur expectations 🧍🏻‍♀️ maroon is one of my favs on midnights tho🧏🏻‍♀️

2.6k words ^_^

When the morning came we were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf

'Cause we lost track of time again

The morning light streamed through the tall windows of the Gryffindor common room, casting a warm glow over the cozy space. Fred Weasley and Y/N found themselves amidst the hustle and bustle of students preparing for the day ahead, the scent of parchment and brewing potions mingling in the air.

“We ought to consider a time-turner, I reckon,” Fred remarked with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he waved his wand, banishing dust motes from the ancient tapestry that adorned the common room wall.

Y/N’s laughter filled the room, bright and infectious, as she joined Fred in their morning ritual of tidying up. With practiced ease, they worked in tandem, their wands dancing through the air in a graceful choreography of magic.

“The incense seems to have made itself rather at home, hasn’t it?” Y/N remarked, a playful glint in her eyes as she surveyed the cluttered shelves.

Fred chuckled, the warmth of camaraderie enveloping them like a comforting cloak.

The common room hummed with the energy of friendship and anticipation, the familiar sounds of laughter and conversation echoing off the stone walls. Fred, ever the jovial spirit, settled onto a plush armchair with a theatrical flourish, his feet finding a resting place in Y/N’s lap.

“Like a proper wizarding portrait, aren’t I?” Fred teased, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned back, a picture of relaxed camaraderie.

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, her laughter mingling with the chorus of voices that filled the room. The morning sunlight danced in her hair, casting a golden halo around her features as she playfully nudged Fred’s feet aside, the easy banter between them a testament to their deepening friendship.

“How’d we end up on the floor anyway?” Fred quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced around the familiar surroundings of the Gryffindor common room.

“George’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that’s how,” Y/N replied with a chuckle, the memory of their recent escapades bringing a smile to her lips.

Their laughter echoed through the warm confines of Gryffindor Tower, a testament to the enduring bond that held them together.

As Fred and Y/N navigated the halls of Hogwarts, they found themselves drawn into a whirlwind of adventure and discovery. Together, they uncovered hidden passageways, brewed questionable potions, and faced down fearsome magical creatures with courage and determination.

Yet, amidst the excitement and chaos of school life, a deeper connection began to blossom between them—a bond forged in shared laughter, whispered secrets, and unspoken understanding.

————-————-————-————-—————-

And I chose you

The one I was dancin' with

In New York, no shoes

It was now Christmas day, 1995, and the Great Hall of Hogwarts was a vision of splendor for the Yule Ball. Its towering walls draped in cascading ivy and shimmering with enchanted snowflakes that danced in the air. Fred and Y/N found themselves swept away by the magical ambiance, the grandeur of the occasion casting a spell of awe and wonder upon them.

Hand in hand, they glided across the polished marble floor, the soft strains of celestial music filling the air like whispers from another realm. The glow of enchanted candles bathed the hall in a warm, ethereal light, casting shadows that danced across the ornate tapestries that adorned the walls.

In the midst of the swirling festivities, Fred and Y/N shared a moment of quiet reverence, their hearts beating in time with the rhythm of the music. With each graceful step, they wove their own story, a tapestry of friendship and companionship that transcended the bounds of time and space.

As they moved in perfect harmony, Fred’s gaze never wavered from Y/N, his eyes alight with a warmth that mirrored the flickering candlelight. In that fleeting moment, amidst the enchantment of the Yule Ball, they were suspended in a timeless embrace, their souls entwined in a dance as old as time itself.

The air was alive with the whispers of magic, the soft rustle of robes and the gentle murmur of conversation blending seamlessly with the lilting melody that filled the hall. Above them, the enchanted ceiling shimmered with a kaleidoscope of colors, a breathtaking tableau that mirrored the depths of the night sky.

And as they looked up at the starlit heavens, Fred and Y/N knew that they had found something truly extraordinary in each other—a connection that defied logic and reason, a bond that would endure long after the echoes of the Yule Ball had faded into memory. The twinkling stars above seemed to whisper secrets known only to them, their luminescence casting a gentle glow upon Fred’s warm smile and Y/N’s shimmering eyes. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with the promise of endless possibilities and shared dreams.

The light-colored dress Y/N wore was now stained with a deep burgundy, a result of Fred’s playful antics as he accidentally splashed red wine onto her during a moment of laughter. As the wine seeped into the fabric, Y/N felt the blood rush into her cheeks, a scarlet blush that mirrored the color of the wine staining her dress. The soft rustle of robes and the melodic strains of the orchestra faded into the background as Fred’s concerned gaze met Y/N’s, their unspoken understanding bridging the gap between them. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, amidst the enchanting splendor of the Yule Ball, they shared a silent communion that spoke volumes of their growing affection and mutual admiration.

As the wine seeped into the fabric, Y/N felt the blood rush into her cheeks, a scarlet blush that mirrored the color of the wine staining her dress.

Later, as they danced under the enchanting glow of the Yule Ball, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the mark on her collarbone, a faint rust-colored smudge that had appeared during their playful exchange of banter earlier in the evening.

And as the night wore on, Y/N found herself lost in the depths of Fred’s eyes, her lips forming a smile as she realized that in him, she had found a home—a sanctuary where she could be herself, embraced for all that she was.

In the quiet moments between dances, amidst the swirling robes and the flickering candlelight, Y/N reflected on the journey they had shared together—the laughter, the tears, and the unspoken moments that bound them together like threads in a tapestry.

And as they moved together in perfect harmony, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of the music, Y/N knew that she had found not just a partner, but a kindred spirit—a soulmate whose presence filled her with a sense of belonging and completeness that she had never known before.

In the scarlet hues of the evening, amidst the magic of the Yule Ball, Y/N and Fred shared a connection that transcended words, a bond that would endure long after the echoes of the night had faded into memory.

————-————-————-————-—————-

When the silence came, we were shaking blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

As the silence settled around them, enveloping the Astronomy Tower in a shroud of contemplation, Y/N and Fred sat in quiet reflection. The echoes of the Yule Ball still lingered in the air, a distant memory wrapped in the tendrils of the night.

In the midst of the hazy darkness, Fred's voice broke, his words trembling with emotion as he grappled with the weight of their shared history. "How did we lose sight of ourselves again?" His voice, tinged with regret, carried the weight of unspoken truths and missed opportunities.

A week had passed since the enchantment of the Yule Ball faded into memory, leaving behind a bittersweet residue of longing and unfulfilled promises. Y/N and Fred, nestled in the quiet solitude of the Astronomy Tower, found themselves confronting the harsh realities of their tangled emotions.

Fred's shoulders sagged as he succumbed to the weight of his own vulnerability, his head buried in his hands, tears staining the fabric of time-worn robes. It was a familiar scene, one that echoed the ebb and flow of their tumultuous relationship—a cycle of highs and lows, laughter and tears.

As Fred grappled with the depths of his emotions, Y/N watched in silent understanding, her heart aching with the weight of their shared pain. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, a glimpse into the fractured landscape of their hearts.

In the stillness of the night, amidst the whispering of the stars and the gentle caress of the wind, Y/N and Fred shared a bond that transcended words—a connection forged in the crucible of their shared experiences and unspoken truths.

And as the night wore on, their silhouettes cast against the backdrop of the starlit sky, Y/N and Fred found solace in the quiet companionship of the night—a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through the maze of their tangled emotions.

————-————-————-————-—————-

You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway

In the dimly lit hallway of Hogwarts, shadows danced with the flickering torchlight, casting an eerie glow upon the stone walls. Y/N stood there, her gaze hollow and distant, lost in the labyrinth of her own thoughts. Fred watched her from across the corridor, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

As he approached, the echoes of their shared history reverberated in the silence between them. They were like carnations mistaken for roses, their beauty and fragility intertwined in a delicate dance of misunderstanding and longing. Fred couldn't help but feel the pang of regret, the knowledge that some things were never meant to be.

Y/N turned to face him, her eyes betraying a vulnerability that mirrored his own. It was as if they stood at the threshold of an unspoken truth, the echoes of their shared pain reverberating in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope—a silent understanding that transcended words.

"I feel you no matter what," Fred whispered softly, his voice barely above a murmur. It was a declaration of unwavering devotion, a testament to the depth of his love for her. In that moment, amidst the shadows and the silence, Y/N felt the weight of his words wash over her like a gentle tide, soothing the ache in her heart.

The rubies that I gave up, Fred thought, his mind drifting to moments lost and chances forsaken. Yet, amidst the regrets and the what-ifs, there was a flicker of something precious—a connection that defied logic and reason, a bond forged in the crucible of their shared experiences.

As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of torchlight, Y/N and Fred shared a moment of quiet introspection—a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of their intertwined destinies. In the silence of the hallway, amidst the whispering of the castle walls, they found solace in the knowledge that, despite the trials and tribulations that lay ahead, their love would endure, steadfast and unwavering.

And as the echoes of their shared moment faded into the darkness, Y/N and Fred knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together—bound by the rubies of their shared past and the promise of a future yet unwritten.

With each word, their bond grew stronger, their hearts entwined in a dance of love and longing that would endure the trials of time.

————-————-————-————-—————-

And I lost you

The one I was dancin' with

In New York, no shoes

In the cozy streets of Hogsmeade, amidst the chatter of witches and wizards, Y/N found herself lost in the crowd. She searched for Fred, the one she had been dancing with just moments before, their laughter echoing in the night air. Yet, amidst the hustle and bustle of the village, he was nowhere to be found.

As she wandered through the winding streets, the lantern lights casting a warm glow over the cobblestones, Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of longing—a yearning for the connection they had shared, lost amidst the excitement of the Hogsmeade visit.

She looked up at the sky, the stars twinkling overhead, and felt a sense of emptiness wash over her. In the absence of Fred, the one she had danced with under the starlit heavens, the world seemed devoid of color and meaning.

"And I lost you," Y/N whispered to the night air, her voice barely above a murmur. In the midst of the festivities and the laughter, she had lost sight of the one person who had brought light into her life, the one who had made her feel alive amidst the magic of Hogsmeade.

With each step she took, the echoes of their shared moments haunted her—the laughter, the tears, the whispered promises that had once filled the night air. Yet, amidst the memories and the regrets, there was a glimmer of hope—a silent understanding that, no matter how far apart they may be, their connection would endure.

In the quiet solitude of the village streets, Y/N found herself yearning for Fred, the one she had danced with under the maroon sky. And as she looked up at the stars, their light twinkling overhead, she knew that, no matter where life took them, their love would always find its way back home to Hogsmeade.

————-————-————-————-—————-

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

As Y/N drifted into a restless slumber, memories of her time with Fred Weasley began to dance through her mind like ethereal wisps of smoke. She found herself transported back in time, reliving the moments they had shared together in vivid detail.

In her dream, she stood amidst the bustling corridors of Hogwarts, the echoes of laughter and the scent of magic filling the air. Fred appeared before her, his mischievous grin lighting up his freckled face as he extended his hand, inviting her to join him on a journey through time.

Together, they wandered through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, their footsteps echoing against the ancient stone floors. Y/N watched as Fred conjured bursts of colorful sparks from his wand, his laughter ringing out like music in the night.

They passed by the Gryffindor common room, where they had shared countless hours lost in conversation and laughter. Y/N felt a pang of nostalgia wash over her as she remembered the warmth of Fred's smile, the comfort of his presence by her side.

In her dream, they danced beneath the twinkling stars of the Astronomy Tower, their movements fluid and graceful as they wove through the night sky. Y/N felt the warmth of Fred's hand in hers, the gentle press of his fingers against her skin sending shivers down her spine.

But amidst the joy and the laughter, there was also pain. Y/N watched as Fred's face contorted with anguish, his eyes clouded with sorrow as they relived moments of heartache and loss. She felt the weight of their shared struggles, the burden of their unspoken fears and insecurities pressing down upon her like a heavy cloak.

Yet, even in the darkness, there was light. Y/N saw glimpses of their shared dreams and aspirations, moments of hope and resilience that had sustained them through the darkest of times. She felt the strength of their bond, the unbreakable thread that connected them heart to heart, soul to soul.

As Y/N stirred from her slumber, the echo of Fred’s laughter lingered in the air like a melody, a reminder of the love they shared and the memories they had created together. In the quiet solitude of the morning, she carried his legacy with her, a beacon of light to guide her through the uncertainties that lay ahead.

It was maroon

It was maroon

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #weasley twins

[faded-euphoria]

Things I think would happen if you lived at the slender mansion

A lot of Creepypastas x reader(platonic)

CW: Talks if murder trauma, blood, and stuff? its creepypasta. Also Slender is depicted more as The Operator from Marble Hornets.

Waking up at least once a week to the kitchen being a mess cuz someone wanted to try to make breakfast.

Prank wars.

Slender randomly appearing and causing headaches to assert dominance or whatever the fuck thats for

Bloody footprints at the front door, yes there are old stains on the rug and floor around the area too because they just won't come out

Jeff scaring you

Sally asking everyone to be in a tea party with her

Jason making the younger pastas toys

You stumbled down to the basement only to find the creepypastas that are... terrifying(sandman, zalgo, ect.)

Tim getting more annoyed with each new pasta that walks in the door

Ej and Tim getting along with eachother

Toby treating Cody like a little brother

Jane protecting you from the pastas she doesn't trust

Ben falling on his face while he comes out of the TV portal thing

Learning how to patch wounds from Ej and helping the other pastas when they come home with new unwanted holes and gashes in their bodies

Eating meals at a large ass table with one other pasta or every single pasta. Theres no inbetweens.

If you know how to bake and bake stuff for them? They'll love you.

If you bake them birthday cakes or pastries? Tears. Some of them never celebrated their birthdays before.

Celebrating every holiday. I'm talking Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years, Yule and any other holiday you can think of. Any religion any origin, cuz there's probably a pasta that celebrates it.

Trauma rants in the middle of the night with literally anyone

random breakouts into song. like someone will be humming and someone else will hum with them, so on and so forth theres a group of y'all singing together and laughing

staying up at night, talking with a pasta who's close to your age about stuff you had in your childhood realizing how small the world is

walking out onto the porch seeing Tim having a smoke break

LJ getting his face too close to something and poking it with his nose somehow

One of the older pastas asking one of the younger ones if they play with Lincoln Logs

Hearing music coming from someone's room and you find it coming to the conclusion that you can never judge someone based on the music they listen to

#creepypasta ticci toby #creepypasta ben drowned #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta jeff the killer #creepypasta masky #creepypasta hoodie #marble hornets #slenderman #x reader

[slytherin-paramour]

Just a little angsty drabble from a Yule Ball themed fic that I've yet to finish.

The moons light shone down upon the few headstones that littered the uneven, earthy and snow covered ground, most of them weathered with chunks of stone missing from the edges, no doubt housing long forgotten souls. The thought filled you with a sense of melancholy.

The bottom of your dress made a swishing sound as the dark green fabric moved over the floor of the graveyard, slowly soaking up the snow and becoming sodden as you took tentative steps toward a certain plot that lay in a secluded spot behind the mausoleum. Not far away, a couple of jovial spectres were tossing a ghostly severed head back and forth, too embroiled in their other worldly fun to even notice the young witch who had wandered into their domain.

Aside from their laughter, the place was peaceful, the only other sound being that of an owl somewhere off in the nearby woodland that surrounded Hogsmeade. You tried to calm the anger that burned through your body as you dropped to the ground in front of a recently tended grave, the soil staining your dress where your knees made contact.

You heart lurched as you tried and failed to block out the images of Sebastian, the way his fingers gripped the fabric around her hips, the Slytherin girls dainty hands running through the wavy auburn locks that you'd come to endear. His lips pressed against hers hungrily, painfully unaware of the anguish that he'd caused in you. You swallowed harshly, willing the emotion to stay confined inside you. What a ridiculous reason to become so dismayed. Sebastian wasn't yours to cry about in the first place.

You looked up and stretched your fingers out to dust away some of the snow from the marble headstone in front of you, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes scanned the name that was etched there. Eleazar Fig. How you wished that he was still with you.

The guilt would always flood back when you thought of the final words spoken between you both, the moment that you'd let him down and witnessed the disappointment in his tired eyes when you'd decided to open that damned repository and absorb the dark contents within. You'd truly believed that you were more than capable of controlling the magic, of finding a way to harness it and mold it into something that could be of great benefit to all of Wizard-kind. As of yet however, you'd been unable to wield it properly, only succeeding ( barely) in keeping the power contained within yourself.

As if taking on it's own sentience, you abruptly felt the magic pulsate through your chest, radiating down through your arms and spreading to your fingertips. You lurched forward, head dropping low. You clawed at the fabric that covered your heart, willing the episode to pass. Tiny wisps of molten silver flickered around your hands, the power wanting desperately to be released.

After a few moments, it subsided and the frantic breaths you'd been taking calmed somewhat. You gazed up at the headstone once more, this time tears running freely down your cheeks, hands clasped together on your knees.

"I am so, so sorry, Professor. Please forgive me." Your voice cracked. "I miss you terribly. I don't know what to do..." The sob fell out of you weakly.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #harry potter #slytherin pride #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow #seb sallow #Sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction

[wixafix]

Theodore Nott x reader

Soft, fluff.

It's Yule, and war is nearing. Only you and Theodore stayed in Slytherin.

I Noticed (Part 1)

It was dim as always, a little green and a little cold but it was comforting, knowing there wasn't the chaos of the castle in here... at least in the holidays.

You weren't sure what time it was, you couldn't be bothered to check but you'd woken up awake which probably meant it was early, despite that sounding strange.

Fire was roaring green in one grate and the Yule log sat burning in another, you rubbed you eyes with your pyjama sleeve whilst your other hand gripped your sketchbook. Tucking your feet under you sit by the fire and flip it open, not remembering where you stopped last night and just starting something new.

There was a soft rustle after a little while and you glance a little over your shoulder, Nott headed over to the Yule log grate, a small pile of presents floating behind him. He was in your year and like you usually had your nose in a sketchbook, he had his in a novel or any sort of book really. He gave Granger and run for her money and she read a lot.

"Hey." His voice was a little sleepy and quiet but it caught your attention anyways. "You mind if I put some music on?" He held up a record player and you shook your head.

"Go ahead." He nodded and you hesitated before turning back to the page. You two always stayed for Yule but it was the first time there wasn't someone else. Voldemort's war creeping nearer meant people felt safer at home behind familial wards or in the arms of their parents.

After a little while of hearing instrumental tunes drift through the common room and a rustle of paper a shadow edged your sketchbook. Nott stood beside you, hand holding a small wrapped box stretched out towards you.

"Happy Yule."

"Oh um, Happy Yule."

"You can have it." He waved it a little sitting down on the other end of the sofa, pulling his own knees up to his chest. "It's Draco's tag gift for me so its probably not very interesting but you can have it." You eye him for a moment but set your sketchbook on the table before facing him and crossing your legs, your foot a little numb with pins and needles from sitting on it. Taking it gently you look at him before doing anything else with it.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"You never have any to open, I wanted to... share."

"You didn't have any in our first two years either." He crossed his arms on top of his knees and rested his head on them.

"You remember that?"

"There's never very many of us here and we were the only ones without." You looked down at the black and silver marble effect wrapping paper.

"I made friends." Nott said as explanation for his appearance of presents, you had noticed.

"I didn't." You smile, you had people you spoke to and sat beside in class but you went to Hogsmeade alone and walked alone, no one really bothered either so it was a bonus as a Slytherin.

"I noticed." You pulled the silver ribbon and paper undid in your hands producing a box of Honeydukes salted fudge, one of their more usual or maybe Muggle flavours.

"Thank you, Nott." You flipped the box open and held it out to Nott.

"Call me Theo."

"Then you can call me, y/n" You both share a soft smile, a barely there twist of the lips a crinkle at the edge of you eyes.

~~{ Wixafix [Wixabear] }~~

#fluff #soft #hp universe #alternative universe #comfort #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin!reader #theo nott x you #slytherin common room #I think there is more to this. #for sure

[martincooneyart]

My Favorite Marble Carving Pictures: the First Decade of My Online Magazine and Sculpture Gallery

To Celebrate the martincooney.com Tenth Anniversary, here is a Collection of some of my Favorite Marble Carving Photographs that have appeared across a Great Many Posts over the Last Decade and are Displayed Here, Together in One Place, for the Very First Time In my last post I assembled some of my favorite limestone carving photographs, and today I present a similar collection in marble –…

View On WordPress

#Colorado #Marble #Martin Cooney #Photography #Sculpture #Stone Carving #Yule marble

[lacecap]

personal top vocaloid songs 2022 WAHOO all songs (and more) can be found on my playlist on youtube ^_^

the only songs that are truly ordered by how much i like them are the ones towards the top (around the top 10ish); the rest of them are listed arbitrarily. letter to the black world is hands the best song from this year in my opinion!

letter to the black world by frog96 ft. teto (eng sub | original)

heat abnormal by iyowa ft. adachi rei (original | there is no subbed video but i am Begging you to read the eng trans in time with the song)

lost delusion by frog96 ft. teto

twitterland by steaka ft. miku

sakura no ko by kanzaki iori ft. kafu & sekai (the album original from bukiyou na otoko is also really good :D)

fill me by frog96 ft. kafu

puparium by teikuru ft. miku (teikurus songs... were all taken down/privated this year for reasons i dont know. Its a shame bc i really really love this song. there's still a 2 minute preview of it on their twt but thats all i've been able to find)

the journey of 3 basic needs by picdo ft. adachi rei (eng sub | original)

henshin by jin ft. miku (a vocaloid original from jin in 2022!!)

pip puppet by r-906 ft. miku

nekommunication by daniwell ft. rin

doping dance by steaka ft. miku

iinetteYEAH! by wanopo ft. rin & len

take you to an alien by iyowa ft. sekai

parasite by deco ft. miku (i'm allotting myself a strict quota of One deco song per year to add to these things)

read more has honorable mentions, a small producer corner, and my proseka quarantine (thumbs up)

honorable mentions

okusuri nonde neyo by mochiutsune ft. miku (eng sub | original)

reincarnation apple by pinocchio ft. miku

miseen by balloon & nuyuri ft. flower & kaai yuki

elephant in the room by a4 ft. kafu

paper marbling by namigroove ft. sekai & kafu

hypnotizer by mikomiko ft. una (a tagalog original ^_^)

temple of tempest by world elec. ft. zundamon, nakumo, and merrow

mr. zombie's halloween days by myuu ft. miku

scorpion girl by steaka ft. miku

manimani by r-906 ft. miku

angel wings by a4 ft. kafu & gekiyaku

変身の技法 by se ft. miku

quixote by ahub ft. kafu

hottoite by nanahoshi ft. gumi

春を発つ by kanzaki iori ft. kafu

small producer corner

mistake by EO ft. rin (i really like this one ^_^)

nemuku wa nai kedo onemu mitai by ckwa ft. miku (this song is really cute :"])

愛が迷子 by inu_san ft. miku

へるmp by iri yule ft. kaai yuki

violet by valendar ft. tsuina chan & eleanor forte

tenshi mitai ni by ueil ft. miku

walkie talkie by daraku ft. flower

garou by L!QR ft. flower

海遊路 by zokepo ft. kafu

deepspace by amitai ft. xingchen infinity

project sekai quarantine

moonlight by harumaki gohan & tatsuya kitani ft. rin & miku (hands down my favorite proseka original from this year)

niccori^^ survey team theme by wanopo ft. rin & len

blue paint by kujira ft. miku, luka, & meiko

88☆彡 by marasy & kemu ft. miku & kaito

tera tera by kurage-p ft. una

#vocaloid #long post

[liiilyevans]

No cameras catch my pageant smile I counted days, I counted miles To see you there, to see you there It's been a long time coming, but

Or, Draco has a desire to learn more about Astoria when he sees her again.

Note: I really struggled with this song! I started this fic in Astoria's POV and scrapped the whole thing about half way through and started writing from Draco's POV, which I find quite funny at certain points in this fic. Anyways, I chose to focus on a few lines from the song such as, 'no cameras catch my pageant smile,' 'you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes,' 'no cameras catch my muffled cries,' 'and I don't want you to (go), I don't really wanna (fight),' and of course, the title lyric 'voted most likely to run away with you.' I hope you enjoy! Thank you to the @cruelsummer-ficfest mods for the challenge of this one!

Read on AO3

His parents were upset. Since he was a baby, he’d spent every Christmas with them. The only one he’d missed was in fourth year when he went to the Yule Ball. Now, he was abandoning them to globe trot with his friends for five days. At least, that was what his mother said. Her glare had been so icy when he’d walked out the front door that he thought shards would be embedded into his jacket. Theo met him at the gate of Malfoy Manor and then they were Apparating to the Portkey site. 

When Theo had asked Draco to come to Athens, he’d been surprised then suspicious. Pansy and Blaise were the ones who invited him to social events. Theo was quiet and kept to himself, but he and Draco had a pleasant enough relationship over the years. When they were in school, Theo had been the only roommate who Draco could stand. Crabbe and Goyle were both loud sleepers and dead to the world once they were asleep. Blaise had been entitled and pushy. Theo was quiet and took up little space. Most times, Draco barely noticed he was there. Besides, Athens would be a good way to get his mind off of Astoria Greengrass dancing all over his heart on the Zabini’s dancefloor. 

Since the Zabini wedding at the beginning of summer, Draco had been steadily avoiding her, only giving her clipped responses when she approached him at any pureblood soirées and more often than not, making excuses not to talk to her altogether. By the end of the summer, Astoria seemed to finally take the hint. She hadn’t spoken to him since. 

Which was for the best. Someone as clean as Astoria Greengrass didn’t deserve to be tainted by his reputation. 

Or him with his tainted hands and battered soul. 

When they arrived at the suite, Theo pushed the door open. Draco stepped into what looked like a sitting room levitating his luggage behind him. It was pristine with a white couch and two armchairs gathered around a table. The kitchen was right next to it, marble countertops gleaming from the light over the sink. There were four doors, two on each wall, leading to what Draco assumed were bedrooms and a beautiful balcony overlooking the city. 

Daphne was seated on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, and her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. Across from her sat Marcus Flint, which shocked Draco to the core. He was still as broad as ever, dwarfing Daphne. He was clean shaven and was eying Draco with a look of surprise and confusion. Theo hadn’t told Daphne that he was coming then. 

Draco nodded to the older man. “Flint.” 

“Malfoy,” he said pleasantly enough. Off the pitch, Flint wasn’t so bad to be around, a bit rough around the edges though. 

Daphne’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t realize you were bringing company, Theo.” 

Theo shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d mind.” 

“I don’t,” she said. “Draco, you knew Marcus was my cousin, didn’t you?” 

Draco shook his head. He’d never really paid attention to the Greengrass family tree. 

“Well, now you do,” she said. “He’ll be vacationing with us.” 

Draco didn’t know why she felt the need to state the obvious. 

“In here,” Theo said, nodding to one of the rooms.

Rolling his eyes, he stepped into the room Theo was staying in and let his luggage drop to the floor. He hadn’t expected the twin beds, and Theo was steadily avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Why are we sharing a room?” Draco said lowly. 

“What? You don’t fancy bonding with me?” Theo said with a quirk of his eyebrow. 

“I had enough bonding with you when we shared a dorm at Hogwarts,” he said. Merlin, that had been an adjustment. Until that point, Draco was used to being an only child and that meant having a whole manor to himself, dozens and dozens of dust covered rooms to explore. Having to share a room with six different boys had been a nightmare. 

Turning on his heel, Draco marched back into the sitting room to demand that someone switch rooms with him only to be met with the rich brown eyes of Astoria Greengrass. The Greengrasses were clearly in the middle of a reunion, Astoria still in Flint’s arms and Daphne grinning broadly at both of them. There was shock in her eyes as she watched him, and Draco felt the urge to turn back around and spend the rest of this vacation locked in that bedroom with Theo, as unpleasant as that would be. 

He wasn’t afforded that opportunity though. 

“We should all go out to celebrate,” Daphne said, clapping her hands. “We haven’t seen Marcus in ages, and I know where we can get the best wine in the city.” 

#

As it turned out, Daphne didn’t end up getting any kind of wine. Instead, she downed four margaritas in such a quick succession that she was ten times more talkative than usual. Lucky for Draco, she sat next to Theo. His evening was filled with watching Theo squirm as Daphne prattled on, only barely letting him get two words in edge wise. Draco thought it served Theo right for tricking him into coming on this trip. 

If there was one word that summed up Theodore Nott, it was observant. He was sure to have noticed that Draco had avoided Astoria after the Zabini wedding. For some morbid reason, he seemed to find Draco’s discomfort amusing. Little did anyone know, he’d been ready to bare his soul to Astoria when she’d stranded him on that dance floor. It was truly a blessing that she left when she did. It saved him the trouble of picking up the pieces of his shattered heart later on when he was more invested in . . . whatever it was they had been dancing around. 

Draco rolled over for the fourth time. This bed was small and terribly uncomfortable — much too firm compared to what he was used to. As he glanced over at his roommate, Theo seemed quite content. He was facing the opposite wall, his breathing even. Rolling his eyes, Draco climbed out of bed and grabbed his wand — a habit Aunt Bella had instilled in him. Fresh air would clear his head and hopefully zap some of the energy out of him. 

Gently, he opened his bedroom door and slipped into the sitting room. The moonlight was streaming in from the balcony, casting a soft glow on the room. The door to the balcony was cracked. Palming his wand, Draco slowly slipped over to the edge of the door, careful to keep himself out of sight. When he glanced outside, he saw Astoria and Flint sitting in the lounge chairs, their backs toward him. Astoria’s hair was loose and curling around her shoulders. It reminded him of the night she’d let it down on the dock before Pansy’s wedding. She had looked beautiful with those brown eyes high from the joint they’d been smoking. He had no doubt that she looked just as beautiful now, though he couldn’t see her face. However, he did spot another cigarette hanging between her fingertips. 

“I didn’t realize you were on a first name basis with Malfoy,” he heard Flint say. 

Astoria didn’t say anything for a moment. “What gave you that impression?”

“Earlier when I asked if you knew that he and Nott were going to be here, you said, ‘Daphne only told me Theo was coming, not Draco.’” 

“We’ve talked before,” Astoria admitted, and Draco felt a spark of outrage. If she dared to say one thing about the time they’d spent together — dared to tell Flint that she’d touched his Mark — he would burst onto that balcony now and obliviate them both. He didn’t care if it was illegal. 

“He’d be bad for you.” Flint’s voice pulled Draco from his anger. “He’s entitled and selfish. He only looks out for himself. You could do better.” 

Flint was right. Astoria could do much better than him with her witty remarks and her stunning smile. Merlin, even Potter talked to her if the rumors from the Ministry were anything to go by. And Draco was bitterly jealous because all he could think of was that night on the dock when she’d touched his Mark. It felt like someone had really seen him for the first time in a very long time. And just as he’d been ready to share his darkest moments with her, she’d left him on that dancefloor.

Astoria scoffed. “I didn’t see you complaining about his entitlement when you got a Nimbus 2001 out of it.” 

“This isn’t Quidditch, Astoria,” Flint said, and Draco could hear his eye roll. Flint didn’t say anything else for a moment. Just as Draco thought their conversation was over, Flint spoke again. “How much of that do you take now?”

From where he was standing, Draco could see Flint nod to the joint between his cousin’s fingers. Astoria simply lifted the cigarette to her mouth and took a long drag. Draco had never wanted to be an inanimate object more. 

“Enough,” she said. “Why are you so concerned?” 

“I’m always concerned about you, Astoria.” It was the first time Draco had heard Flint sound honestly sincere. Even though he couldn’t see the older man’s face, Draco could tell that he was staring at Astoria intently. Almost as intently as she was avoiding his gaze. 

“Well, stop worrying about me,” she said finally. “It’s bad for your blood pressure.” 

There was an undertone to their words. Though they seemed like simple questions, Draco got the feeling that they were talking in some kind of code. Flint wasn’t talking about her drug intake, at least not entirely. Draco leaned toward the glass door unconsciously. He was beginning to realize this is what Astoria did to him — made him want to learn more about her and store each golden nugget of information away for later use. His knee loudly knocked the table in front of him, and he quickly grabbed it to keep it from toppling over. Angry footsteps sounded on the balcony. He was going to die. 

Quickly, Draco cast a disillusionment charm and pressed his back against the wall. 

Flint yanked the glass door all the way open, and Draco flinched at the rage that covered his face. He scanned the room slowly, his eyes narrowed. Glancing down, Draco noticed his wand was in his left hand and his sleeves were rolled up, his Dark Mark on full display. When Draco’s gaze returned to the older man’s face, he was looking directly at Draco, squinting slightly. Fear slithered up his stomach and into his throat. Flint was going to hex him, possibly kill him. 

“Quit being paranoid, Marcus,” Astoria called. She hadn’t even bothered to turn around from what Draco could see. “It was probably just the wind.” 

Marcus glanced around the room once more before firmly shutting the glass door. 

Draco let out the breath he’d been holding. After waiting a few moments and sneaking a few glances out of the glass door to make sure Astoria and Flint weren’t suspicious, Draco hurried back to his room and promptly closed the door. 

Theo was still sleeping. The bastard. 

#

The only good thing about shopping in Athens was that he couldn’t go wrong with whatever he decided to buy his mother. The mink stoles were just to her taste, the feather hats just the right mix of delicate and sophisticated, the pearl bracelets just expensive enough without being gaudy. Draco knew he couldn’t come back empty handed if he wanted to spend the next few months without her silent glares of judgement. His father was the tricky one. While his mother liked expensive things, his father liked rare things — things that he could drag out once a year to show his friends. Draco would find nothing like that here. 

“That has to be the ugliest hat I’ve ever seen.” 

Draco’s head snapped to the right as Astoria came to stand beside him. She was as stunning as usual in her dark red lipstick, long sleeved green dress, and green beret. It should have been ridiculous — especially since they were in Athens, not Paris — but Astoria pulled it off beautifully. Draco thought she could pull off a potato sack. She fixed her dark brown eyes on him, a smile starting to curve at the corners of her mouth. 

“I don’t think you could pull it off,” she said, nodding to the red and black monstrosity he’d been examining. 

Draco sputtered. “It’s not for me.” 

“Oh.” She turned back to the hat. “Well, that’s good because it wouldn’t suit your complexion at all.” 

Rolling his eyes, Draco turned back to the display of hats. If he ignored her, she would get bored and leave, or Flint would pull her attention away from him. Then he could go on about his day trying to forget that she smelled like jasmine or the soft feel of her back against his fingertips or the gentle way she’d run her fingertips over his Mark. Yes, it was best to forget all about those things before she made him do something that was likely to get him hexed by Flint. 

“You really shouldn’t eavesdrop on people, you know,” she said casually. “Your mother would find it obscene.” 

Draco froze, the silk brim of a hat still between his fingers. With his heart beating rapidly, he tried to think of a moment during the previous night that Astoria might have caught a glimpse of him. However, she’d had her back turned to the glass door the whole time. There was no way she would have seen him. 

“I didn’t-” Before he could even finish his lie, Astoria roughly pinched his bicep.

Draco yelped and stepped away from her. 

“You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes,” she said, never taking her eyes off the display in front of her. Anger surged up inside him like a tidal wave. Who did she think she was? Stomping all over his newfound hope one minute and physically abusing him in public the next? Draco would not stand for this. 

“You have no idea-”

“You could just talk to me, you know,” she said, turning to him suddenly and stepping forward. As she invaded Draco’s personal space, his mouth went dry and any harsh words he was going to say before were now drifting from his mind like a soft breeze. Astoria’s eyes were beautiful, especially when he could make out the different shades of brown in them — the light caramel, the deep umber, the rich coffee. They held sincerity and an earnestness that Draco wanted to believe in so bad. Yet he couldn’t forget the last time he’d let himself believe that anyone might be willing to look past the picture that was painted of him after the war — couldn’t forget the way his heart had shattered when she’d turned and practically run away from him. 

“I have nothing to say to you,” he whispered lowly. He couldn’t even manage a decent glare, only a slight narrowing of his eyes. 

“Right,” she muttered, looking down. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” 

#

Draco swore that he wasn’t going to go out on the balcony that night. Even if Theo was as silent as the dead in his bed, Draco was positive he could hear him breathing. That was the reason he was climbing out of bed, not because he hoped to see a certain brunette in the moonlight again. It was more than any sane person could be expected to bear. His father would never have stood for it. As Draco softly closed his bedroom door, he glanced toward the balcony. He wasn’t going out there. He was just going to sit on the couch; maybe sleep there since he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in that room with Theo. Without even realizing it, he was already standing in front of the cracked sliding door. 

Astoria was just as beautiful as she had been the night before, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on her. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail this time, and Draco could make out the sides of her face — her delicate nose that she shared with her sister, the dark lipstick she hadn’t taken off yet, the high arch of her eyebrow. There was weariness there, too — in her pale skin, the faint dark circles under her eyes, the slight droop of her shoulders. She was never so vulnerable in the day with those pageant smiles and barbed words that she wore like armor. Yet here in the dark, she seemed to have shed them like a snakeskin. 

Draco silently pushed the door open. 

When he took a seat next to her, she didn’t seem surprised, didn’t even bother to spare him a second glance. Nerves settled in the bottom of Draco’s stomach. Perhaps, he should have stayed in the sitting room. The couch was far more comfortable than this chair anyway. But curiosity overtook him. 

“How’d you know it was me last night?” 

When she finally looked over at him, Astoria was grinning. “Because Daphne would have come outside, and Theo wouldn’t have gotten caught.” 

Draco sputtered as his cheeks bloomed red. This was obviously a horrible idea. After all, Astoria only ever insulted him or used him to cure her morbid fascination with the Dark Lord and his followers. But she started to laugh at the look on his face, and Draco flopped back in his chair pouting. How was he ever supposed to leave her be when her laugh sounded that lovely? 

“Do you enjoy inadvertently insulting people?” he asked, crossing his arms. 

“Only you,” she crooned, and Draco thought he could live with that. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her reach into a small plastic bag and begin to roll a joint. So, she rolled them herself. Fascinating. When she had finished, she pressed the cigarette between her lips and lit it with her wand. After she took a drag, she offered it to Draco. Silently, he snatched the cigarette from her fingers and inhaled. 

“Where do you get this?” he demanded when he handed the joint back to her. “It doesn’t feel like back-alley shit.” 

She laughed. “Do you think I’d buy back-alley shit?” 

He shrugged. “Who’s your dealer?” 

Astoria took a drag. “That’s none of your business.” 

Draco didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. If she wanted to be evasive, let her. He could be evasive, too. 

“So, are we going to talk about Venice?” she asked. 

She was looking directly at him now, but Draco avoided her gaze. They’d done enough talking in Venice, and he was not about to open himself up to her again. So, silence would do. Besides, he was too intoxicated by the scent of jasmine to form a coherent thought anyway. 

Astoria swung her legs over the lounge chair to face him. “Let’s play a game.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“A questions game,” she said. “I ask you a question and you have to answer honestly. Then you ask me a question. And so on.” Draco glared at her. He was not born yesterday, and he was not playing that game. “You can go first.” 

It was tempting. Learning about Astoria was like trying to break into a vault at Gringotts. All Draco really knew about her was that she was Daphne’s sister, she stood strongly against the Dark Lord, and she currently worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She’d never shared anything deeply personal with him, but now she was offering. 

“Who’s your dealer?” 

“Pass,” she said. When Draco tried to protest, she shook her head. “We both get one pass. Ask something else.” 

“Why is Flint so protective of you?” 

A soft smile fell over Astoria’s face. “Marcus has always been that way. He’s like my older brother.” He’d never seen her this soft before. Her eyes weren’t as guarded, instead open; her body wasn’t tense, just relaxed. Draco wondered if that was due to the marijuana. “When we were kids, he’d get us out of trouble or cover up for us. For me really, because I was the one who dragged Daphne into trouble.” Draco snorted, which earned him a smile. “And if he’s harsh, it’s because the world has been incredibly unkind to him.” 

Draco rather thought that it was the other way around. Marcus Flint had a reputation among the Death Eaters. He was ruthless. Whenever the Dark Lord had needed someone to disappear or needed information out of someone, there were a select few Death Eaters that were called on. Flint had been one of them. None of those on trial had mentioned his name because they were terrified of what he would do to them. According to rumors, he had a long reach, possibly even from inside Azkaban since the Ministry did away with the Dementors. His reputation contrasted starkly with the man who was currently on vacation with them. 

“Who were you looking at that hat for?” she asked. 

“My mother,” Draco said. That was easy enough. 

Astoria raised her eyebrows. “Your mother?” 

“Yes, my mother. She was upset when she found out I wouldn’t be spending the holidays with her and Father.” 

“Why aren’t you spending the holiday with them?” 

“It’s not your turn,” Draco said. Astoria rolled her eyes as if the rules were stupid, and she hadn’t come up with them herself. “When did you start disagreeing with what our society says about Mud- erm, Muggleborns?” 

That hard look was back in Astoria’s eyes. She leaned back on her hands before she answered him. “I’ve never agreed with it. My father taught me to use my brain and to think critically before making any kind of decision. The idea of ‘pure blood’ always seemed ludicrous to me. It makes absolutely no sense. But if you’re asking when it solidified for me, it was my first year.” Astoria bit her lip, and Draco was transfixed. “The first person I met after the sorting was a boy named Lucas. We were really good friends, just one of those instant connections. He was a Slytherin and a Muggleborn. So, his life wasn’t easy. I couldn’t do much. Snape wasn’t much help. I was eleven, but I told Daphne to make sure he was safe and left alone, and I always stood up for him when I saw the older kids bully him. But that wasn’t enough. I don’t know who did it, but someone went into his dorm and painted the word ‘Mudblood’ over his bed, left his sheets in ribbons, and tore through his truck. He cried about it for weeks, which only made everyone tease him more. None of the Slytherins wanted anything to do with him and the other houses were wary of him because of the colors he wore. I’m sure it was a living hell. I found him trying to sleep on the couch in the common room one night, and I stayed with him. I’m pretty sure he cried himself to sleep. His parents pulled him out of Hogwarts two weeks later.” 

Astoria was looking away from him, and Draco felt sorry for his school actions for the first time. While he hadn’t been the one who painted that boy’s bed, he was sure he could have easily figured out who did it. He’d never really thought of his actions’ effect on other people, only the immediate high he’d get after he said something mildly clever, and his friends laughed. In his mind, the people he bullied never had feelings, and there were never any lasting effects to his hateful remarks. He was beginning to realize how wrong he was.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t know about that,” he muttered. 

“Probably because you were too busy milking that hippogriff injury and trying to get Hagrid fired,” she said bluntly. 

Draco winced. Perhaps not his finest moment. 

Astoria stood then, stretching her arms above her head. Draco followed the movement, up her legs, past the strip of skin showing where her shirt had ridden up, onto the arch of her back and her breasts, until he reached her dark eyes. They were cloudy again, hiding the world’s secrets for all he knew. Suddenly, she seemed wiser than him. And closed off, he realized, because she was done revealing things about herself. A chill ran through him. 

“As fun as this has been, my sister has a full itinerary planned for tomorrow, so I need some sleep.” 

Draco stood quickly as she started to step past him and grabbed her upper arm. Her name slipped from his lips without his permission, and horror suddenly flooded him. He had absolutely no words for her, but she was looking up at him expectantly. 

He cleared his throat. “Will you . . . will you be here tomorrow night?” 

She smiled brilliantly. “I may be persuaded. Good night, Draco.” 

#

“What do you think?” Daphne asked, holding up two tops that looked exactly the same, but in two different colors. How they’d ended up alone in the shop was a mystery to Draco, but Daphne had insisted she needed a second opinion, and since Astoria had disappeared with Flint and Theo, Draco would have to step in. 

He’d never been particularly close with Daphne during their time at Hogwarts. She had flirted with Blaise all through their sixth year and started to date him in their seventh. At the time, Blaise had gotten on his nerves, too entitled and removed from the war for Draco to find him anything other than annoying and childish. There was also Pansy. Draco never found out what was between them, but Pansy was always passive aggressive with Daphne, like she posed some kind of secret threat. Because he hadn’t wanted to deal with one of Pansy’s tantrums, he had left Daphne alone and only spoke to her when necessary. 

“I think the gold is more flashy, but the silver goes better with your undertones.” Something he would not have known if he hadn’t been dragged on shopping spree after shopping spree with his mother and forced to listen to her and her seamstress talk about undertones and matching jewelry and clothes together. 

Daphne held the gold up to herself in the mirror then the silver. “Fuck, you’re right.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Your mother’s influence, I assume,” she said as she spun around to examine several skirts on the rack. 

“Well, it certainly wasn’t my father’s.” 

“No? He seems the type to know his undertone.” 

Draco snorted, and Daphne flashed him a brilliant smile. 

She was funny, he was realizing. There was a brightness to her that the world should have dimmed with its cruelness, but Daphne seemed determined to outshine that cruelty. Over the last hour, he’d heard about how Daphne’s grandmother and her father didn’t get along and how she didn’t know if she wanted to go to Rio in the New Year or Costa Rica. Daphne was an open book. 

The difference between her and Astoria was like dawn and dusk. Daphne was always bright and chatty, while Astoria was standoffish. While Daphne seemed to care what others thought of her, Astoria couldn’t give a flying hippogriff what anyone said. Despite their differences, they seemed to get along splendidly from what Draco had seen, giggling together at lunch and teasing each other easily. It made Draco wonder what having a sibling would be like — what the ease and camaraderie would feel like. 

“So, you’re avoiding my sister.”

Draco’s head snapped toward Daphne, but she was still examining the rack of skirts. 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You wouldn’t? You seem determined to ignore her at the past few social events, and you’ve barely spoken to her on this trip.” Daphne glanced at him over her shoulder, blonde hair falling around her face. There was no judgement in her eyes, just curiosity. Yet another marked difference between her and her sister. 

“Your sister is perplexing,” Draco said instead of answering her question. 

And that was the truth of it. Astoria had so many layers to her that Draco never thought he’d make it to the center of who she truly was. Then there was Venice. Even after their conversation last night and the promise of another conversation tonight, Draco still couldn’t make himself let go of what had happened. He wasn’t a forgiving person by nature, and this was no exception. 

Daphne hummed. “She is . . . special. Too good for this world.” Too good for him, he thought she meant. “I would not want to see her hurt.” 

“I don’t think your sister would give anyone the power to hurt her.” 

Daphne only laughed in response. 

#

That night, Draco and Astoria established their routine. He would go to bed, toss and turn until he couldn’t stand Theo’s unnatural stillness, and then make his way out to the balcony where he would find Astoria, with a cigarette in hand. They ended up sitting on the edges of their seats facing each other with their knees brushing. Draco could smell the Mary Jane every time she exhaled above them. 

“Why’d you start smoking?” he asked. They continued the game. Though Draco had been reluctant to answer her questions, he was curious about her, trying to get to the center of what made her tick. And she never asked anything that made him pass on a question; always things about him, like where he liked to vacation most, what his favorite dessert was, why he’d been such an asshole in school. That last one had been tongue in cheek. 

But there were barbs in his words. Pansy and Blaise’s wedding had been brought up at dinner earlier. Very innocent really. Flint had asked about the wedding, and Daphne had started talking about it in minute detail with several sarcastic remarks from Astoria. During the whole conversation, Astoria’s eyes had kept sliding towards him, like she was trying to figure out what was going through his mind. Draco had left a bored expression on his face. If living with Death Eaters had taught him anything, it was how to wear a mask. 

Astoria took a long drag before answering. “I was in . . . a very bad place after the war. It was hard for me to function sometimes. So, I got weed. It helped a little. At least I could function and if I needed a boost.” She put the cigarette to her lips and inhaled. “That’s all there was to it.” 

Draco nodded. 

“Why’d you take the Mark?” 

Draco thought about passing, about brushing off the brutalness of the question and trying for something lighthearted. Astoria might let him, judging by her kind eyes and the gentle turn of her lips. 

“I wanted to,” he said simply. “I wanted to make my father proud. My aunt as well. It was everything I’d grown up with.” Everything that he’d always been taught would bring him greatness. “I thought if my father was in Azkaban and my family’s reputation was in shambles then taking the Mark would be the first step to fixing it. I thought . . . I thought I could show the Dark Lord how valuable I was.” Instead, he’d been left with a shattered heart and a manor full of ghosts. 

Astoria glanced away from him, her lip caught between her teeth. This was the part where she told him he should have known better, should have been smarter, should have seen that it was all a set up from the beginning. He braced himself for it, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of his lounge chair. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. It was the same thing she’d said when they had talked at the Goyle ball eons ago. No one had ever apologized for what he’d gone through; most people thought he brought it on himself. 

Draco relaxed his grip slightly. If she was going to ask hard hitting questions like that, then he would do the same. Fair was fair, after all. 

“Why’d you leave the Zabini wedding early?” 

He could see her stiffen instantly. It was like he found her Pandora’s box, the one thing he wanted to desperately open, but she kept under lock and key. They’d been at the game for an hour or so, and she hadn’t used a pass yet. Draco thought she might use it now. 

Then, “I was sick. Dizzy. Lightheaded. That’s all.” 

It seemed too simple an answer, too calculated. 

“Dizzy?” he said. “That seems a bit anticlimactic for how quickly you ran away.” 

She returned her gaze to him then, outrage clearly painted on her face. “Well, I’m sorry my bout of dizziness wasn’t climatic enough for you. Next time, I’ll let myself faint in your arms, would that make you happy?” Her eyes were blazing now as she swung her legs over the edge of the lounge chair. “Then you can be the charming gentleman who caused the delicate lady to swoon?” 

Anger eddied through him, causing his grip on the chair to tighten again. She was being condescending, and perhaps with good reason. However, she had started this game, and she had chosen to answer the question. If she didn’t like being pressed, then she should never have answered the question.

“No,” he snapped. “I would like to know why you left me after I offered you a goldmine of information on the Dark Lord to feed your morbid fascination with him.” 

Hurt shot across her face before it was quickly washed away. 

“I was never fascinated with him,” she said. Then her question hit him like a hex. “Why don’t you say his name? Are you still that scared of him?” 

Draco leaned away from her like she stung him. She spoke as if it were easy, forgetting all the terror that the Dark Lord had instilled in his followers. Even his most loyal Death Eaters were not safe. He’d seen Aunt Bella come home with her eyes dull and bruises forming on her pale skin after a rough night. While the Dark Lord might be gone, the scars he left remained. 

“I can’t just . . . say his name,” Draco said, his gaze on the sky suddenly as Astoria siphoned the truth out of him. She was brave and clever; she would think less of him for his reasoning. “He was . . . more brutal than you could imagine. I’d prefer to forget he even existed.” 

“But you can’t let him have that power over you,” Astoria said fiercely. As she leaned toward him, jasmine filled his senses, and Draco dropped his eyes back to hers. “If you refuse to say his name out of fear or anger, you give him power, even from the grave. Voldemort is gone, and he is not coming back.” 

Draco flinched when she said his name. There was nothing else for it. In time, he might be able to hear it and not bat an eyelash, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to say it. Instead of answering, Draco turned his face toward the stars. He could spot Orion’s Belt and Cassiopeia. The stars seemed so far removed from all their worries, like they were too busy shining brightly to really have any problems. If Draco were a star, he imagined his problems would be miniscule as well. 

Astoria sighed loudly, pulling Draco’s attention back to her. “I can’t figure you out.” 

Draco laughed bitterly. “Well, I can’t figure you out either.” 

She smiled at him and leaned forward like she might tell him a secret. “Perhaps we are both far more complicated than either of us imagined.” 

“Perhaps.”

Astoria’s eyes were glittering with mischief now, casting a youthful glow over her face. Even the dark circles couldn’t take away from that. It was that mischief that had Draco leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. They were soft and full against his own, and she tasted like weed. A high set into Draco’s veins, almost like the effects of the weed were transferred from her to him. Only Draco realized she wasn’t kissing him back. 

His whole body went cold. Quickly, he pushed himself away from her, an apology already forming on his lips along with a cutting insult. Astoria caught the collar of his shirt, holding him within an inch of herself. Her breath danced across his lips, a teasing reminder of the kiss he had just given her. When their eyes meant, Draco was tempted to press his lips back to hers, just so he could have one last taste of her. 

“I-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. Then she softly kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or forceful like his had been. It was simple, honest. When she pulled away from him, she let his collar go and stood up. Draco was too stunned to stop her. “I’ll see you in the morning, Draco.” 

Then she was gone, disappearing through the sliding door. 

#

When Draco and his family came to Athens, they always stopped by Antoni’s, a fabulous restaurant with some of the best cuisine and wine in town. After mentioning it to Daphne, she had insisted that they stop there for supper. It was as phenomenal as always. Theo was delighted to see that they had moussaka with lamb, and Astoria insisted on trying the loukoumades, fried dough topped with honey and nuts. The group topped off their meal with a red blend from Crete that had notes of cinnamon and allspice. 

Draco was listening to Daphne and Theo discuss who would be the next in their group to get married when he felt something brush against his calf. It felt like a foot. Astoria was sitting across from him, wine glass in hand, talking with Flint about Quidditch. When she noticed him examining her, her lips quirked upwards, and she took a sip of her wine. 

They hadn’t discussed the kiss from the previous night, and Draco didn’t want it to ruin their last night together. That kiss stayed with him all through the night and today, though. He was unable to forget how warm she had been against him. It had been a fluke, he had reminded himself to keep from going insane. When she’d kissed him again, Astoria was merely being nice because she was a kind person. After this trip, he would go back to being miserable in Malfoy Manor, and she would continue to rise in the Ministry. There was no place in her life for someone like Draco. 

“Astoria, come help me with a touchup?” Daphne asked as she stood up. Astoria quickly followed her. 

“I’m going to run to the loo as well,” Theo said. 

Then it was just Flint, Draco, and awkward silence. Wonderful. The only time Flint had been cordial with Draco was in his second year when he was handing him a Nimbus 2001. During practice, Flint was brutal, pushing his team to do their worst in order to win the Quidditch Cup. He’d been standoffish outside the pitch, much like he had been this whole vacation. Coldly friendly. Draco wished he’d gone to the bathroom with Theo; anything to be away from Flint’s stormy eyes. 

“You need to stay away from Astoria,” he finally said. 

Draco was so shocked his head snapped toward the older man. “Excuse me?” 

“Stay away from her,” Flint repeated. “You can’t handle being with someone like her.” 

He wasn’t surprised, especially after what he heard on the balcony, but it peeved him that Flint would discuss this topic so openly. They were in a restaurant, for fuck’s sake. Theo or the girls could easily walk back to the table and overhear their conversation. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Draco demanded.

“Just what I said,” he replied. “You couldn’t handle it. Besides, Astoria wants a career in politics, and she can’t have dead weight like you dragging her down.” 

Draco’s temper flared. “And you aren’t dead weight?” 

Flint smirked. “I’m only her cousin, and quite out of the public eye except for my Quidditch coaching career. And no one pays attention to the coaches. People pay attention to romantic entanglements though.” 

Romantic entanglements. Draco had never thought of them in that context. At least not until last night. 

“I don’t need you meddling in my business, Flint,” he snapped. 

“And I don’t need you fucking around my baby cousin’s feelings.” 

“Marcus, we just saw the most delicious looking baklava being served to another table,” Daphne said as she returned to the table. “We have to try it.” 

“It’s just food, Daph,” Astoria laughed. “Calm down.” 

Draco’s temper was flaring in his chest, but instead of offering a snide remark, he grabbed his glass of wine and downed it. Only Flint noticed, his eyes fixed on Draco the whole time. 

#

That night Draco made it out to the balcony before Astoria. It was only slightly chilly out, and he threw on an old button down and black trousers, not bothering to wait until Theo was soundly asleep. Draco had been subjected to enough of his sleep habits to last a lifetime. As he heard the glass door slide open, he looked over his shoulder to see Astoria closing it. She was wearing a pair of dark sleep pants and a tank top, both of which were silk. When she spun around, Draco caught a glimpse of her face. He noticed her eyes first. They were focused on him and slightly narrowed, determination shining there. Her mouth was slightly pinched into a frown. That frown sent a chill down his spine. 

As Draco opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, she strode toward him quickly. Her warm hands found his shoulders, and she used them to steady herself as she positioned her knees on either side of his thighs. Shock rippled through him. Astoria was going to sit in his lap, he realized. Automatically, his hands found her waist, her skin solid under the soft fabric of her shirt. 

“What are you doing?” he hissed. 

“I want to ask you something, and I thought you’d be more honest this way,” she said as she shimmied around to get comfortable. Draco sincerely hoped that she didn’t brush against anything unseemly. “How many people have you kissed?” 

It was an odd question, which Draco might not have answered if her lips were not within inches from his own. She smelled sweet and spicy and everything about her was intoxicating. He had the urge to freeze this moment so he could feel her warmth against him, know what it was like to have her breath fanning against his face, memorize the curiosity painted in her irises. 

“Enough,” he answered roughly, his voice dropping an octave. 

“Good,” she said. 

Then her lips were pressing against his own, more insistent than the night before. Though he knew it was coming, surprise still snaked through him, his hands blindly clinging to her shirt. Astoria was fine wine, rich and tart and revealing more flavors to him the more he tasted of her. Unsure of what she would allow him to do, he put all his energy into pressing his mouth against her own. Her lips were soft but urgent, and he tried his best to keep up, but he felt like he was drowning in her. Astoria was consuming him with her pretty gasps, her sweet smell, and her soft lips. 

She asked him how many people he’d kissed, and now Draco was wondering how many people she’d kissed. It was clear she’d done this before by the way she was pressing herself against him in all the right ways. Draco had only kissed a handful of girls — Pansy, Tracey Davis, and some other Slytherins. He’d been intimate with even fewer of them.

She detached her lips from his mouth and started a trail of sucking kisses down his neck. 

Draco had to force himself not to let out the most obscene moan. 

“Why haven’t we been doing this the whole trip?” Astoria asked breathlessly. 

Draco groaned and tugged her closer to him. He could have had four nights of this endless bliss. Instead of responding, he pressed his lips against her neck, delighted at the feel of delicate skin. Dropping her head back, Astoria gasped and clutched at his shoulders. This was the only way he could stop her smart mouth apparently, and he was not in the least bit upset about that. 

Sliding his hand between her shoulder blades, Draco held her firmly while his lips continued downward. Gently, he swept his lips down to her collarbone, found the skin between her collarbone and shoulder, and bit down lightly. The smooth tips of her hair brushed against his hands, and Draco had to fight the urge to tangle his fingers in it. His other kisses had never felt like this. He had been attracted to the other girls, of course, but it was always physical. It was more about what he wanted and what those girls could offer him. With Astoria, it was more intense, more emotional. He wanted to please her, not just himself. 

Astoria dunked her head and caught his lips again. This time, Draco was unable to hold back his moan, his hands grasping the nape of her neck. She turned gentle slowly, pressing her swollen lips tenderly against his own until they settled into a languid rhythm. Finally, she rested her forehead against his own, sharing the same breath as him. 

This was what peace felt like, he realized. Quiet, Astoria’s fingers desperately clutching the collar of his shirt, his fingers brushing the edges of her jawline. Even before the war, he had never felt like this – had never been so content to sit in silence, sharing the same breath as another human being, and soaking in the glow of their presence. Draco thought he might like to live in this moment forever.

“Are you going to spend the New Year with your parents?” she asked finally. 

Draco meant her eyes and saw calm there for the first time. He thought maybe this was his favorite version of her. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“I see.” Astoria tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Shame we won’t be doing more of this.” 

“We won’t?” Disappointment colored his question.

She traced her fingertip over the top button of his shirt. “I don’t think so. You’ll go back to your manor and your self-imposed exile, and I’ll return to work and people who highly dislike you.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“Harry strongly warned me against coming on this trip if you were going to be here,” Astoria said with a grin. “He said you can’t be trusted.”

Draco scuffed. “Potter is a shithead with no taste. You shouldn’t listen to him.” 

She laughed then. “That still leaves your self-imposed exile from society.” 

Draco looked up at the sky, highly annoyed that she was right. Though he ventured into Diagon occasionally, he stayed on the manor grounds for the most part. It was far easier to come to foreign countries where very few people knew him and his reputation. Then he could be just another member of wizarding society and not a former Death Eater. 

“You go back to work after the New Year?” 

Astoria hummed. 

“That’s a week away.” 

“I know.” 

“The French Alps are beautiful this time of year.”

“Are they? Daphne chose Athens. It’s more of a summer vacation spot. She’s terrible at planning vacations.” There was a pause. “I think I’d like to see the French Alps.”

“As would I.” 

Quick as a flash, Astoria was climbing out of his lap, and Draco was following her into the flat. Gently, he closed the door behind him and slipped into his shared room. Theo was sleeping, his back facing the door. Draco rolled his eyes. If he had to share a room again, he would sleep on the floor in the living room. A quick spell had all his clothes flying into his luggage. After he tugged on a black coat, he reached for the door to his room. 

“Where are you going?” 

Draco spun around to see Theo staring at him, his elbows pressed into the bed. The bastard chose now to wake up? 

“My mother-”

“Don’t lie, Draco,” Theo said, and he had never wanted to strangle a person more. 

“To the French Alps,” he ground out. 

Theo nodded before rolling back over. “Tell Astoria not to break her neck if she goes skiing.” 

Draco ground his teeth and cursed his bad luck. Then he stepped out into the living room. Astoria was closing the door to her room, her own suitcase floating behind her. She’d changed out of the sleep clothes she had on previously. Now she was wearing a pair of high-waisted black trousers and a fuzzy green jumper. Her hands were wrapped in black gloves, sporting little gold buttons on the ends. Her hair was still slightly messy from earlier, but her eyes were bright with excitement. 

“The French Alps?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, I know a place.”

He slid his hand into hers and then they were gone. 

#draco malfoy #astoria greengrass #drastoria #daphne greengrass #cruel summer series #hp #my writing

[luckyacid]

Tomashi Jackson The Morehouse Creed (Participation in Prosperity) 2022, Acrylic, Yule Quarry marble dust, and paper bags on textile, gauze, and canvas with PVC marine vinyl mounted on a handcrafted wood awning structure with brass hooks and grommets 84 x 106 x 9 1/4 in

#Tomashi Jackson

[yz]

TOMASHI JACKSON

Day Glow (Backlash), 2022

From the Guggenheim Museum description card:

“Acrylic, Yule Quarry marble dust, and paper bags on canvas, linen, and textile with PVC marine vinyl, mounted to wood with brass hooks and grommets Tilton Gallery, New York

Tomashi Jackson creates vivid, research-based works in various media to investigate underacknowledged histories primarily related to the civil rights movement, a time that held great (unrealized) promise for the democratic ideals of equality and justice. Jackson's Day Glow (Backlash) incorporates images from this period that are painted on linen and vinyl as if printed in halftone, thus rendering them only partially legible. Because the images are more difficult to see at close range than from afar, discerning the work requires movement around the piece, thus implicating the viewer in the codification and transmission of history. In their semi-visibility, Jackson's diffuse figures also engage art historical legacies of abstraction, particularly as they relate to color theories advanced by Josef Albers, an influential artist and teacher whose book on the subject, Interaction of Color, was published in 1963.”

#yzshot #art #black art #modern art #tamashi jackson #painting #mixed media #guggenheim #museum #nyc #america