#better do a continuation to Wizards first

[holyhead-hufflepuff]

fred weasley x reader: unspoken words

fred weasley x reader

summary: "who knows what's in the future, but now I need you to know that I love you" - unspoken words, mxmtoon

words: 1900

warnings: none

author's note: i was going through my old works, and i honestly really proud of this. so REPOST. this is based off of mxmtoon's "unspoken words" and i hope i did this amazing song justice - gracie ♡♡

"Fred, stop it, I mean it," you cried, your hair tied back in two tight plaits. Your hand was wrapped around Fred's thin wrists as he pulled you through Diagon Alley, ignoring your cries and his mum's.

"Come on, y/n, it's not my fault you're just slow. George is keeping up just fine," Fred huffed, continuing to rush through the streets until they landed in front of Ollivander's. "I can't believe we get to go to Hogwarts. It's it, well-"

"Wicked," Fred and George said together, smirking at each other before pushing through the shop's front door.

"Fred. George. You can't just go running off," Mrs. Weasley screamed, slightly out of breath from trying to keep with the three eleven-year-olds. "Hello, Garrick, I'm afraid we'll be shopping second-hand again. We just don't have the galleons right now for two new wands."

"But, mum," Fred whined, crossing his hands over his chest as George just started at the small section of wands with worn boxes.

"I can pay for your guys' wands," you piped up, pulling out twenty-one galleons. Your mum had insisted you bring enough money to pay for the Weasley's wands as payment for housing you for the summer while she was off in Tasmania.

"Nevermind, we'll just take the used wands," Fred stated, pushing you aside to look at the second-hand wands.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you grumbled, tossing the galleons on the countertop. "You would rather have a second-hand wand then have one bought by me?"

"Good job, y/n. You got it on the first guess," Fred mocked, slowly clapping his hands.

"I hate you, Fred Weasley," you yelled, grabbing the galleons and storming out of the store.

You wrung your hands, nervous for the Order's newest mission, moving Harry Potter. It was bad enough that the wizard war was looming over your heads like a storm cloud, but now, you couldn't help but feel like something was going to go wrong.

"Okay, time to leave," you mumbled, slipping your favorite sneakers on and apparating to The Burrow.

"Y/N," you heard a familiar voice shout.

"Ginny," you shouted back, wrapping your arms around the petite girl. "Are you going on the mission tonight?"

"Are you kidding me? Mum will hardly let me out of the house," Ginny chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and leading you into the Burrow. "I can't believe Fred and George are letting you go on the mission, especially Fred."

You rolled your eyes at the redhead's wiggling eyebrows. "Sod off, Ginny. We all know that I am a strong, independent person that doesn't need to ginger twins deciding what I can and cannot do," you replied, the words almost verbatim to what you had told Fred when he told you to stay with Molly at the Burrow.

"Hey! I'm a ginger, too," Ginny exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest. "You wound me, did you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever, miss melodramatic. I'm going to put my jacket up in Fred and George's room," you announced, hurrying up the stairs and into the familiar room that smelled still smelled like smoke and candy.

You shrugged off your overcoat, tossing it on Fred's bed, and looked around the room. Everything was exactly the same as it was when you two were kids, bringing back memories of growing up with him.

"Y/N, you can't tell me you're actually thought Bulargia would win," Fred shouted from his side of the tent as you pulled your Bulgaria jersey off. "I thought you had better taste than that, but then again, you're dating Roger Davies."

"Screw you, Fred," you bit back, unsure whether or not to tell him that Roger had dumped you over the summer to try and get with Alicia Spinnet. "And, just so you know, Roger and I are, well, no longer together."

"Finally got tired of sloppy seconds, Cedric's to be precise?" Fred teased, grabbing your wrist and pulling you onto his bunk bed.

"You're a pig, Fred," you growled, leaning against the flat pillows. "Hurry up, now, I want to go out and see how the Irish are celebrating. Maybe we can even convince them to give up some firewhiskey."

"Tsk tsk, illegal underage drinking? Not perfect y/n," Fred chuckled, moving out of the way of your attempt to kick him. "Too slow- I guess that's what happens when you shag a loser like Roger Davies."

"Go to hell," you hissed, your red turning bright red. "I'll just go without you, and not that's it's your business, but I never slept with him."

You stormed out of the tent, pushing past George, who attempted to grab your wrist.

"Y/N, The Order is here," Ginny shouted, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You hurried down the wooden steps, your eyes immediately meeting with Fred's. "Hey," you breathed, running up to the redhead. "Merlin, I've hardly seen you two, and you, Fred Weasley, didn't write back after that mission. I really ought to smack you, but I'm honestly just glad you're okay."

"Wow, George, it's great to see you, too! How were you after the mission? Good? Oh, I'm so glad," George mocked in a high pitched voice.

"I'm sorry, George, the drama queen, how are you?" you asked, turning away from Fred to look at George.

"Oh, you know, disgust by your outward display of kindness to the lesser twin," George replied, but your eyes were already back on Fred.

"What happened to your cheek?" You asked, running your fingers over a faint scar. "It looks like it hurt."

"I'm fine, y/n, especially knowing that you aren't going tonight," Fred grinned. "They only need twelve 'Potters', and they want you back here, in case someone needs healing."

"But-"

"Nope, they aren't budging on the idea, and neither am I. Anyway, we're going to be off once Bill and Fleur arrive," Fred stated, brushing off your concerned look. "Oh, there they are now. I guess I better get outside with the rest of The Order, and before mum fusses over me."

You bit the bottom of your lip, the taste of blood filling your mouth. "Be safe, Freddie. I swear that I'll kill you if you don't come back to me."

"I'll be safe," Fred whispered, brushing a piece of your hair back. "I swear that I'll come back to you."

You watched Fred walk out of the door, a crushing feeling washing over you. "Please have them all return safely," you said to no one in particular, hoping that some force of nature or faith heard you. You walked into the kitchen, where Arthur was talking to Molly, and George was promising to return to Ginny. You sat down in your chair, letting memories sweep you away from the world of worries.

"How was I supposed to know that you needed a personalized goodbye," Fred argued, using his wand to paint another layer of coat on the store's walls.

"Because we're best friends, Fred. You didn't even say goodbye. You left- you just left me alone," You shouted back, flicking your wand to paint your side of the room. "You just flew away on your stupid broom and left me alone. I would've come in a heartbeat."

"I know that- do you not think I don't know anything about you? You are the most brilliant person I know, and I couldn't just take you away. You had to take your N.E.W.Ts. I didn't want you to give up your education for a shop that wasn't your dream," Fred snapped. "I wanted to ask you, and so did George. But, I told him we couldn't sweep you away just because we didn't want to miss you."

You paused, his words sinking in. "I-I didn't- I'm sorry," you relented, setting down your wand and wrapping the redhead into a hug. Then, as if it were magic, Fred returned the hug and elicited butterflies in your stomach.

You didn't need to question the feeling- you knew you were in love.

"Y/N, it's George," a voice screamed, causing you to jump off your kitchen chair and run into the living room where George was lying limply on the couch.

"Shh, George. It'll be okay," you mumbled over and over again, pulling out your wand and murmuring incantations over his body. "Shhh, George, don't cry. I'll stop the pain, I promise."

You worked on his ear and mumbled all of the spells you knew that would act as a nerve block. Finally, what felt like eternities later, George was sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you," Fred spoke up, sitting next to you. "I don't know what would've happened without you here."

"I couldn't save the skin around his ear- it was ridden with dark magic. I had to cut it off, and now, he won't be able to properly hear out of that ear. Oh, God, Fred, why is this happening to us? We're kids," you sniffled, feeling Fred wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest. "Time is just fading away, and we don't even know anything about the future."

"You were brilliant," Fred mumbled into your ear, hugging you tighter as if you were going to disappear if he didn't. "Y/N, and I need to tell you something-"

"I love you," you blurted, pulling away from his chest. "I should've said it sooner, but now, I need you to know that I love you. You don't need to say it back, but I need you to know."

"I love you, too," Fred breathed, not entirely sure if he heard what he wanted to or if you actually said you loved him. "God, y/n, I've loved you since you offered to buy my wand in Ollivanders- Since you nearly fell over the balcony because you were so swept away with the Quidditch World Cup. I've been in love with you since the moment I met you."

"Freddie, we met when we were like four years old," You laughed, tears starting to run down your face.

"I know- why do you think that I shoved your face into a mud pie," Fred chuckled, wiping your tears off with his palm. "I didn't know how else to say I loved you."

"I love you, Fred Weasley. I don't know what the hell will happen to us, but I'm just glad we'll do it together," you admitted, pulling Fred in for a kiss.

"Ah, my plan worked," a voice weakly said, causing the two of you to break apart and look at George. "Get my ear blown off? Check. Lose a bunch of blood? Check. Cause my best friend and my twin have an existential crisis? Check. Have them finally admit they're in love? Check."

You could help but laugh, filling the room with a sound that almost seemed unfamiliar. "Thanks, George, we couldn't have admitted it without you," you joked, playing along with the redhead.

"I know- although, I wish it hadn't taken years of sexual tension between you two and my ear to come off," George grinned, laying his head back down.

"Eh, I kind of enjoyed the sexual tension," Fred joked, "it really built-up this moment."

"Shut up, and kiss me," you smiled, grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing his lips against yours. 

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #george weasley #fluff #angst #holyhead hufflepuff

[amandacanwrite]

More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition

Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole

Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87

Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.

Upon Your First Meeting

"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."

Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.

The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.

But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS

And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.

"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."

He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.

"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"

Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit

"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."

It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.

As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.

Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.

Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.

It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.

But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.

And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.

He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.

He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.

Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.

But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.

He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.

He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."

When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.

But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.

It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.

When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.

He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.

Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.

He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.

When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him

"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.

He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."

When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.

He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.

And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.

"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."

In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.

He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?

You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.

After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.

"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."

It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.

"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."

His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans

"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."

You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.

You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.

But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.

It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.

Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.

His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.

And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.

You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.

"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"

You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."

He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.

#writing community #writers on tumblr #writing #authors #writeblr #my writing #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 gale #bg3 gale fanfic #bg3 gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale headcanons

[theminecraftbee]

alright, so, one more thing i've been thinking about during all of this, and apologies, because i normally try to keep my blog fairly discourse-free in the grand scheme of things. but.

there are hermitcraft fans who act irritatingly morally superior about this fandom. i think it's out of some impulse to try to distance yourselves from any other mcyt fandom. it needs to stop.

the worst behavior during the polls was from the hermitcraft fans.

period.

there were so many instances of hermitcraft fans accusing the other side of cheating, of hermitcraft fans making attacks on the character of their guy's opponents, i have heard what i HOPE are isolated reports of racism in the grian/quackity fight (it was genuinely impossible to keep up with the blog's notes that round without both going into a death spiral thanks to the horrible behavior of scar fans during techno/scar and also without losing track instantly of where we were due to the frankly insurmountable volume of notes, so i did not see it, but unfortunately i fully believe it). i have seen people receiving awful asks - saw people being accused of 'betraying' the hermitcraft side due to voting for quackity or techno, for example.

and for a fandom that likes to act like it's better than the other guys, well. the dsmp fans were generally very well behaved in comparison. (shoutout, for example, to quackblr - i saw maybe one or two possible instances of bad behavior, but for as intense as you all were, you all were normally mostly just retaliatory towards whatever energy was thrown at you.) it wasn't supposed "outsiders coming in" that was doing this bad behavior, either.

folks, you can't blame the dsmp when the problem is inside the house. you can't blame twitter users when you're doing it here. you can't blame the reddit when you're the ones throwing the first death threats.

get off your high horses. we're all mcyt fans. we're all having the same fun. get off your high horses. you can hardly claim we're entirely all "unproblematic" when keralis accepted a sponsorship from the wizard game and xisuma periodically gets another round of getting shouted down over something he said on xisumasays. get off your high horses. you can't claim we're the accepting, good behavior fandom, unlike those other guys, when you're the ones causing the problems.

now, as always, i'm sure this is a law of large numbers thing to some extent. as technoblade, wise as he is, said: sometimes when you get a large enough group, you're going to have a few serial killers. but for the amount that hermitblr likes to act better than Those Other Minecraft Fandoms, and those Other Fandom Websites, it wasn't those guys that made me cry.

to be clear, the majority of you have been well-behaved. but there's a persistent tendency in this fandom to act strangely morally superior to other fandoms. and, y'all? you aren't.

you just aren't.

and the sooner you acknowledge that, the less likely this is to happen again, because once you admit that yeah, we can be toxic too? that's when you can start actually looking at yourself and trying not to be.

anyway, sorry again to make this post. i don't want to be a downer, hence why, outside of the official mod statements of "chill the fuck out", i didn't make this until now. (it also helps that i wanted to wait until i was no longer furious, upset, and death spiraling.) i have seen a lot of the best of this fandom over the past two weeks! i've just also, unfortunately, seen some of the worst, and feel the need to make this statement because it's just... been eating at me.

i don't want this to continue to be a trend. i think we can do better. do so.

#discourse #hermitcraft #side note. please don't come into my inbox about this i WILL just delete it (even if you're agreeing with me) #i also don't need a 'sorry this happened' so much as a. idk. i'm making this post so maybe people realize that they're doing this at all #and stop doing it #anyway wanna reiterate: 90% of y'all were nice. the problem is everyone likes to pretend the 10% doesn't exist #and i'm just... tired of that. #so here i am! psa over

[dancingbirdie]

This request is really out of the blue but, i need I CRAVE i require a fic where tav and astarion finally find a cure for his vampirism (in dnd5 it can actually happen yay!) and he manages to see his reflection again and finally have his natural eye color again (blue bc he's prob a moon elf but I don't mind other colors too). The fangs can stay or not, idc, i just want my boy happy, in love, and cared for. Bonus points if there's cuddles too

OK first of all, thanks for this prompt!! Second, I had to break this up into two parts because I'm afraid of how unwieldy it would get otherwise. So see part 1 below. I'm actively writing part 2 and should have that posted within the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

UPDATE: Chapter 2 available here!

I Promised You (Chapter 1)

Rating: G

Pairing: Astarion x GN!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings/Tags: mentions of unconsciousness, cheeky banter, domestic life, post-events of BG3, potentially problematic levels of self-sacrifice by reader.

***

“All right. I think you’re ready,” Gale affirmed as he peered over your shoulder, analyzing your hand movements as you practiced the incantation. 

“You think? Shouldn’t we wait until you’re sure?” you replied, heavy skepticism coloring your tone. 

“I can’t give you my complete assurance because you haven’t actually cast the spell,” the wizard sighed. 

The two of you had had this argument many times over the past several months as you studied and practiced. And studied and practiced some more. The conclusion was always the same, but your anxiety always managed to convince you that a different outcome would be had if you just asked him again. 

Conjuration magic was one of the most difficult forms to master. Yes, you had specialized in it during your formative years, under the tutelage of several learned wizards across Faerûn, but this spell was perhaps the pinnacle of feats in conjuration. Only a handful of wizards could perform it. Thankfully Gale was among that number, which is why you had come to him for help.

“As I’ve said, this isn’t a spell you can just cast for practice runs,” he continued. “You have one chance. And if it works, the sheer power of it is undoubtedly going to knock you unconscious.” 

“I know, I know,” you grumbled. “I just… I need to be absolutely perfect. I have to do this. For him.” 

“Have you told him what you’re planning yet?” Gale prodded.

“No. Not yet. I didn’t want to get his hopes up. Or have him tell me how unlikely success will be. Not until I was absolutely sure I could do this.” 

“I see,” the wizard returned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, tonight is as good a time to tell him as any. There’s nothing more I can teach you to prepare for this. You know the incantation by heart. You perform the gestures almost through muscle memory now. You’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you repeated, as if saying the words would will it to be so. 

“Send me a missive if he wants to go through with this. I’ll come to the cottage and oversee the spell’s casting.”

“All right,” you nodded.

“It’s going to work. You have to believe it’s going to work,” Gale encouraged, meeting your eyes with a serious, stern sort of expression.

“It’s going to work,” you agreed. “It’s going to work.” 

***

It was dusk by the time you returned to the cottage. It was a modest home you shared with Astarion, situated just outside the city walls. It had a lovely view of the rolling hills that surrounded Baldur’s Gate, and proximity to the Chionthar River gave the air a refreshing, misty feel. Pastoral communities dotted the countryside with sheep and cattle grazing freely during the day, though they had returned to their stables long before your return.

Astarion was no fan of the bucolic lifestyle, as he was wont to remind you. But you both agreed that this living situation afforded him better meal prospects than the rats, cats and errant stray dogs that dwelled within the city limits. At least this way, he had more fulfilling options for food, since the livestock attracted their fair share of large predators. A mild, perpetual confusion charm that you cast kept the neighbors from questioning why – unlike their peers in neighboring villages and towns – their animals were never plagued by roving bears and panthers. 

Astarion was lounging listlessly in the bay window of the den when you entered your home, one leg dangling off the ledge of his reading nook while he carelessly flipped through a book. Probably one he had pilfered from Gale’s stockpile a few weeks ago, you surmised. There had been an uptick in the wizard’s grumbling about discrepancies in his library catalog of late. 

“Anything interesting?” you asked as you shrugged out of your traveler’s cloak and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

“Ugh, hardly,” Astarion grouched. “Nothing but debunked theories and philosophies from bloated scholars who died a hundred years ago.”

“You’re going to have to return Gale’s books to him eventually, you know. He’s beginning to realize how many from his library are missing.”

“Haven’t the slightest clue what you’re referring to, darling,” he replied breezily.

“Of course, love,” you chuckled, planting a kiss on his forehead as you passed him by to make your way into the kitchen. 

“Care for a glass of wine?” you called.

“Mm, yes,” Astarion returned. “Red, please, dear.”

Uncorking the bottle and pouring the glasses gave you a brief moment to collect your thoughts. To steel your nerves for the conversation looming before you. Drawing a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly, you made your way back into the den and braced for the inevitable. 

“Darling, do you have a moment?” you asked as you offered Astarion his glass before taking a seat next to him. “I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Gods, it must be serious,” he teased, straightening from his reclined pose to take the proffered glass and make room for you. “You like you’re about to be ill. Go on then, love, before you faint and spill this vintage all over the floor.”

“It is rather serious, in fact,” you began, clearing your throat that had suddenly become tight with nerves.  “I’ve waited to tell you until now, but I’ve been researching some more difficult conjuration magic with Gale the past few months…”

“Oh?” Astarion prompted as you paused. “For what purpose, darling? I thought you had already mastered the school of conjuration.”

“I have. But this is a more specialized form. More… niche, I guess one might say. And, well…” you trailed off again, hesitant.

“Go on,” he encouraged. 

“I’ve-been-researching-a-spell-that-cures-vampirism-and-I-think-I’ve-found-a-way,” you spat out all at once, the words tumbling into each other like a wagon train gone wild. 

Astarion met your eyes with a blank stare, seemingly forgetting that his one hand had been in the process of lifting the wine glass to his lips. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asked hoarsely.

You coughed to clear your throat. “What I mean to say is: I’ve been working with Gale for months now to learn a spell that can cure your vampirism. He and I believe I’m ready to perform it. If you would allow me to try, that is.”

“If this is your idea of a joke,” he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice. “Then I have to tell you, it’s absolutely not funny at all.”

“It’s not a joke!” you assured. “I swear to you, Astarion. It’s not a joke,” you continued, squeezing one of his hands in yours. 

He nodded absently, his gaze trained on your thumb as it soothed over the knuckles of his fingers.

“H-how?” he whispered finally. “How can you cure it? I’ve read every tome I could get my hands on for over two hundred years. Nothing, nothing, I’ve read has ever offered a solution.”

“Because this is a highly guarded spell. It’s only passed down through oral tradition among wizards who specialize in conjuration magic. Which is why I’ve needed Gale’s help,” you explained. “I broached the topic with him some time ago, told him how we were going to look for some way to cure your vampirism. Being a master of magicks himself, I thought he would be a good source of information for me to begin my research. I wasn’t even aware of the spell until he shared it with me. He’s been teaching me the mechanics of it since then. It’s been a difficult spell to master but–” 

“What’s the cost?” Astarion interjected suddenly, meeting your gaze with a new intensity.

“It will cost you nothing, obviously,” you retorted, disliking where the conversation was heading. 

Astarion huffed through his nose. A caustic, frustrated sort of sound. “Don’t play cute with me, darling. You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t,” you hedged.

“What will the spell cost you,” he bit out through a clenched jaw. 

You bit your lip, hesitant to reply. Astarion’s gaze never wavered. 

Finally you sighed. Better to reveal the consequences of it all than attempt to hide the downsides from him. Even though they were negligible in your eyes, compared to the wonder that would be returning his elfhood to him, you knew he would resent being told only partial truths. You couldn’t fault him for it. You would feel the same, were the roles reversed. 

“It will permanently weaken me. There’s a small, very small, chance it could kill me if I perform it wrong,” you confessed.

“No,” Astarion responded bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. He rose from the bench and made to leave the room. As if the matter had been settled and it was time to crack on. 

“Wait! What do you mean, ‘no’?” you blurted. Jumping to your feet, you snatched at the sleeve of his nightshirt. 

He turned to peer at you with a haughty gaze, one eyebrow arched delicately. “Exactly that. No. You’re not risking your life on the off chance of this working.”

“But it’s not an off chance. It will work! And the likelihood of me dying is incredibly slim!” you protested.

“But the likelihood of you being ‘permanently weakened’ is essentially certain, yes?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. And besides, I don’t mind. I want to do this, Astarion.”

He scoffed. “Have you gone absolutely mad? ‘It’s not as bad as it sounds.’ Do you even know what will actually happen to you afterwards?” he shot back angrily.

“No,” you admitted, a bit quieter. 

He deliberately widened his eyes at your response, crossing his arms across his chest as if to say See? My point proven. 

“But I know I can handle it! And I love you enough to try!” you retorted.

That appeared to be the wrong choice of words. You realized it immediately as his expression morphed from outright anger to something darker, icier.

“Well then, it seems we’re at an impasse, darling,” he growled. “Because I love you enough not to have you go through with this.” 

You opened your mouth to object once more, but he continued, ignoring you. 

“AND, since it is my body and my life we’re discussing, it means I have the final say on the matter. My answer is no.”

You had anticipated this conversation going many different ways. You thought you had prepared for the most likely scenarios. But, in all your pondering, you hadn’t seriously considered the possibility that Astarion would reject this opportunity outright. 

Your eyes welled with tears. Hot, angry, disconsolate tears. 

“Astarion,” you murmured, desperate. Angry though you both were, you couldn’t resist the urge to curl into his embrace. Gently, you pulled at his arms in an attempt to un-cross them. With a soft sigh, he allowed you to manipulate him so that you were pressed chest to chest. Your arms banded around his waist, locking him against you. Slowly, he raised his arms to mimic your stance, peering down at you.  

“Astarion, my darling, this is your chance. It’s the only chance we’ve found in over two years of searching. I know I can do it. And you can win it all back. I can help you. Let me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Darling, how could I ever ‘win it all back’ when there’s a possibility I could lose you forever? Or that you could be seriously harmed in the process?” he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, smiling sadly. “I would never forgive myself if you were harmed in an attempt to cure me.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping freely down your cheeks. “Please. I know I can do this. Please let me do this. I want to do this for you.”

“Come, pup, no more tears. I’ve given you my answer,” he murmured, swiping a thumb across your cheekbones to catch each tear.

You opened your eyes to glare at him. “If the roles were reversed, would you want to try this for me?”

“Of course,” Astarion huffed. “But that’s obviously different, I –”

“WHY? Why is it different?” you cried, clutching him. 

“Because you’re worth it!” he implored, arms vibrating as though he were resisting the urge to shake sense into you. “Your soul is worth a thousand of mine! It’s not marred by death and torture and sacrilege. Can’t you see that? Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t,” you argued obstinately. “Because you are worth it to me. Your soul is priceless to me. I love you. You’re the love of my life.”

Astarion said nothing, just stared at you with sad eyes. You couldn’t tell if his silence meant you were persuading him, but you couldn’t relent without giving at least one more desperate plea. 

“I promised you. Remember? After everything that happened, I promised you we would find a way for you to walk in the sun once more. I didn’t make that promise lightly. I want to do this for you.”

“Darling…” he murmured sadly, shaking his head. 

“Astarion, please,” you beseeched, shifting to clutch his face between both of your palms. “I’m literally begging you to let me try. Gale and I have been practicing for almost a year now. He wouldn’t tell me I was ready unless he was certain. I know I can do this. Please. Let me try.”

“Don’t you have any regard for your own life?” he whispered. “How is it that I’m more concerned for your well being than you are?” 

“Darling, all of us have the slightest potential of dying every single day we continue to breathe. Anything poses some risk to our lives. I’m telling you, the risk of me dying from this is the same as the risk I take casting any other magic.”

“But there’s still a permanent cost to doing this. Have you even asked Gale to elaborate on what that entails?” 

“No,” you admitted a bit sheepishly. “I didn’t really think about it.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes but planted a kiss against your forehead. “You’re ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m sorry that I was so ecstatic about finding a cure that I leapt straight into studying it!” you said defensively, although your tone lacked teeth. 

He chuckled and wrapped you in a tighter embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head. The two of you stood like that for some time, arms wrapped around each other, lost in thought. 

After a while, Astarion cleared his throat. “I want us to speak to Gale. I want to know the full details, the consequences of a spell like this.”

You jerked your head up in surprise, staring at him with wide, elated eyes. 

“I’m not saying yes,” he clarified, attempting to tamp down your burgeoning excitement. “But I’m willing to hear more about this… possibility.”

A delighted squeal rocketed up your throat. Quick as a flash, you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Long used to your ebullient antics, Astarion caught you with a practiced ease. His arms banded under your thighs and across your lower back, squeezing gently. 

“I love you, you daft, feral thing,” he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. 

***

“I would have gone over this months ago, had you afforded me the opportunity,” Gale had groused upon arriving at the cottage the following evening. The three of you shared a bottle of barrel-aged Callidyren while Astarion peppered the wizard with umpteen questions about the spell’s mechanics. To his credit, Gale managed to assuage Astarion’s concerns. At least for the most part. 

The permanent effects of casting the spell, you both learned, would diminish your inner well of magic, rendering you unable to cast as many spells as you currently could before resting for a longer period of time. Almost as though the cost of performing the spell would revert you back to the strength you had had as an apprentice so many years ago. You would still be powerful, capable of wielding even the most intricate of spells. But your endurance would be shorter, more concentrated. It was a price you were more than willing to pay. Even more so now that you had actually allowed Gale to describe the effects in detail. 

“I still can’t believe you didn’t press for more details,” Astarion grumbled. 

“It didn’t seem important at the time,” you sniffed, waving a hand dismissively. “Still doesn’t, in my opinion.”

“You know, in some schools of thought,” Astarion countered dryly, “people believe the difference between bravery and complete idiocy is so fine a line that it frequently gets crossed.”

“So I’ve heard,” you crooned. “But, alas, I’m nothing if not an incredibly adept fool in love.” 

Gale observed the two of you warily, as if uncertain whether this exchange constituted harmless domestic banter or an undercurrent of severe agitation. 

“Yes, well,” he interrupted awkwardly, “as I said before, you’re as ready as you will ever be to perform this magic. I’ll be here to supervise and intervene, if necessary, though I don’t think it will be.”

“Bully for us. Is there anything else we should be prepared for, if we’re to go through with this?” Astarion snapped. “Sudden onset sliminess? Gills? Frothing at the mouth?”

You winced. He was always his most discourteous self when he was afraid. Gale might not realize it, but you knew him well enough to tell when his rudeness was obfuscation.   

“Ahem,” Gale coughed, clearly affronted by the impertinent question. “No, nothing of that sort. But this spell is incredibly demanding on one’s body. It’s very likely they’ll fall unconscious once it’s been cast. The effect shouldn’t last for more than a few hours. Enough time for a proper rest.”  

“You failed to mention that yesterday,” Astarion said peevishly, glaring at you from across the dining table. 

“Because it’s the equivalent to me needing a good sleep after a tiring day,” you quipped. 

Gale winced. “It’s a bit more serious than that, I’d argue.”

“Thank you,” Astarion intoned. 

“Tsk. An inconvenience at worst. Nothing unmanageable,” you retorted. “So, what say you, darling? Are you willing to give this a try?”

Astarion’s glare shifted between you and Gale, studying you both. 

“And you both swear to me that all information is now disclosed, yes? No partial truths, no hidden side effects?”

“I swear,” the two of you responded in unison. You reached for Astarion’s hand across the table. 

“My darling, this will work. I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be cured,” you smiled gently. “Please, trust me.”

He squeezed your hand, crimson eyes boring into your own. 

Finally, after a moment, he gave you a terse nod.

“All right. Let’s try,” he agreed.

#dancingbirdiewrites #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion x mc #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion fic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #tav x astarion #astarion x you #astarion x gn reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #astarion fic

[pottersmiracle]

Studying

Harry Potter x Fem! Reader

warnings: fluff-harry crushing on reader-use of y/n-added in that every student has their own dorm-first kiss 🙈

summary: harry never seems to focus when he studies, until now.

a/n: kinda long but swet <3

Masterlist

Harry was sitting in the library as he studied for their upcoming potion's quiz for Professor Snape's class. Harry was growing bored by the minute, every time Harry tried to doze off Hermione would notice and snap her fingers in his face or hit him with her wand. Which hurt quite a bit, and he definitely didn't want that again. But, he also just felt like he couldn't focus. He kept drowning out Ron and Hermione's constant bickering.

"Hermione can he please just take one break?" Ron pleaded noticing how tired he was. “Just watching him doze off is making me tired.”

“No Ronald! Do you really want him to fail another potions quiz and have Snape pressuring him even more? If you think he’s tired now i’d like to see him after that.” Hermione mumbled the last bit.

“She’s right Ron. I just.. need to find something to focus on so i can stay awake.” Harry said making Ron roll his eyes, “she’s always right.” Hermione hit him with her book making him groan and apologize.

Harry ignored them again, letting his eyes wander around the library. Then he saw her, y/n, the girl he’s been crushing on since their first year. They were best friends but he wanted to be more, so much more.

She noticed him almost immediately and smiled at him, he hoped she didnt notice the slight red hue on his cheeks as he smiled back at her. She said something to her friends and started walking over to him, making him instantly sit up straight.

“Hey Harry.” She said walking up with a smile. “Hey, uh, how are you?” He asked swallowing his nerves. “Better now that i’m talking to you.” She said with a smile. Now his blushing had to be noticeable after that.

He laughed and Hermione cut in, “thank goodness you’re here. You’re great at potions aren’t you? I’ve heard you in class you’re brilliant.” Y/n was taken aback at Hermione calling her a genius, Hermione was known as one of the smartest wizards of her age by most of the teachers after all.

“I’m certainly not a genius but i am fairly good at potions yes.” She answered. “Great. Could you try getting Harry to focus? Trying to get him to actually learn something is incredibly difficult.” She complained as Harry looked honestly offended.

“I can surely try.” She said laughing at Hermione’s comment. Hermione scooted over so y/n could sit across from Harry. Harry was certainly focused now and they hadn’t even started studying yet. This should be fun.

——

It had been almost an hour since y/n had sat down and started studying with Harry and Harry had already learned more from her then he had from Snape in the past 4 years. Hermione and Ron had certainly noticed that Harry was listening the whole time, and getting questions y/n asked him right.

“Students, it is now time to go back to your dormitories, the library is closed.” Professor McGonagall announced walking into the library. Y/n looked at Harry, “wanna continue this in my dorm? We only have one other chapter to go in this lesson if you’d like to finish it up.”

Harry wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t gonna say no to this. Not only was he actually learning something but he was just getting closer and closer to the girl he was in love with. “Yeah absolutely.” Harry responded. Y/n gathered the books as Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, Hermione was rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a smile, Rom subtly elbowed him and smirked at him.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow morning at breakfast yeah?” Harry said. “Yeah we’ll see you both tomorrow. Goodnight y/n!” Hermione said, waving to y/n who was putting away the books they didn’t need. “Night you two!” She responded waving back before handing Neville a book he had been waiting to read after they were finished.

——

They were in her dorm on her bed sitting across from each other. They had finished the book and was now just talking. About class, quidditch, family, anything they could think of. Harry was loving every second of it, he didn’t know that y/n was too.

As she closed the textbook to put it away, a charged tension lingered in the room. Their eyes met, and he couldn't help but stutter, "You know, this studying thing was... surprisingly enjoyable." She smirked, replying with a teasing tone, "Yeah, who knew potions could be so thrilling?" In the hushed atmosphere, their lips finally met, setting off a bomb of emotions that had been building with every exchanged glance and stolen touch during their study sessions.

After their lips parted, a gentle silence enveloped them. He chuckled nervously, breaking the quiet, "Well, that wasn't exactly studying was it." She blushed, "No, but I'd say it was more interesting." They shared a lighthearted laugh, the awkwardness fading into a newfound comfort.

He gently grabbed her hand, holding it in his as she rested her head on his shoulder, both smiling and laughing with each other.

It was perfect.

#Spotify #harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #first kiss #harry potter imagine #still don’t know how to tag

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Lover, Please Stay

Astarion x F! Tav

(Pillow Talk part 2)

18+ complicated feelings, angst, jealousy, intimacy, talks of sex work, fingering (f!), oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), feral Astarion, tenderness

Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Masterlist, Part 1

-

True to her word, she was avoiding him.

Even leaving him at camp. He covered the sting like he always did.

"You doing all the work while I relax with a good book? Please, if you must twist my arm."

He hid the anxiety throttling him into a sultry smile. Waving goodbye to the retreating party with a wiggle of his fingers.

When they disappeared into the treeline, he turned with a scowl and pushed inside his tent. The hunger gnawing through him now in the forefront of his mind.

In avoiding him, she had inadvertently kept him from her neck.

Animal blood wasn't enough anymore. Sure technically it filled him, it did the job. But it was a meager substitution.

When her blood would burst into his mouth, it sent a crackling pleasure across the back of his skull. Sending fire in slow pulses as her blood pushed out into his veins. From his center ebbing out a warmth in rhythm to his swallowing. His cold body cracking apart with her molten river. It was a miracle he was able to stop that first night.

The bloodcall was a prickling hateful need, but the other need he felt towards her made him bristle more.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way they had crashed and smeared into each other. There was nothing practiced about it, nothing gained or lost. Just pulling mouths and pleading fingers and dizzy heat.

He felt his cock stir just from the memory and frowned.

This wouldn't do. He was too pent up, a dog in a kennel circling.

He would get back in her good graces, in one way or another.

When they had finally returned for the night, he feigned disinterest. Lounging back on a pillow outside of his tent, flicking the pages of one of his books with the tips of his fingers.

She wiggled out of her boots with adorable little grunts. Unlacing her bracers and beginning to lift up to the buckles on her breastplate.

"Here, let me." Gale stepped over, reaching for the buckles that sat on her sides.

"Oh! Thank you!" She chirped, lifting her arm to make way for his fingers, naturally let her hand fall on his shoulder.

"I guess it's only fair. You don't wear armor, so you have much less undressing to do." She hummed.

He saw the heat go to Gale's cheeks, clearing his throat.

"You know, I could continue to help you. In the future." He offered, a slight waver in his tone.

Astarion had stood before his mind had spoken to his feet. Striding over.

"Gale, dearest. You'll keep her here all night. Let faster fingers attend to our friend here."

Gale held his hands up in defeat good naturedly, but he saw a bite flash across his eyes.

A silent crackling energy passed between them.

"Our pale friend is right, I'd better return to the delectable meal I've been planning."

Gale stepped away, but not before squeezing her bicep, leaving a lingering touch there.

The wizard was lucky his blood was putrid.

Well, maybe he could still rip his throat out for fun.

As soon as Gale was out of earshot Tav sighed, speaking under her breath to him.

"Well, Gale wants to fuck me now too."

"Ah, you'll have to forgive the boy. I'm sure he hasn't seen such a ravishing creature before that dusty tower. Nothing but his hand and books."

Tav gasped, trying to kick him, but he slid away from her foot easily. His fingers snapping her buckles open with flourish.

"You're the devil." She chided, but he could see the smile on the corner of her lips.

"Devilishly handsome? I agree."

The last buckle free, he lifted the breastplate over her.

She moaned, rotating her shoulders in relief. Her undershirt sticking to her skin. The white fabric wet with her efforts.

He kept his eyes above collarbone with great effort. The outline of her full breasts in his peripheral.

"Thank you, my savior." She teased, sitting down to unbuckle from her shin guards.

He was hovering and she noticed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Darling, I couldn't help but wonder why you haven't been offering me your sweet neck."

She sat back up, hand resting on her thigh. Eyes searching his.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd want to see me after the other night." She said plainly.

"But I guess I'm a service, after all." Said with impartial truth.

"Sure, here." She offered her wrist up to him.

He blinked, on the back foot again.

Like she had scooped into him and pulled the marrow of his person out. That uncanny ability to speak his thoughts through her mouth.

No, I'm the service. Not you, sweet girl.

"Let's wait, no reason to supp from you out in the open. With so many prying hungry eyes."

He trailed the backs of his fingers along the inside of her wrist as she lowered it.

"Meet me in my tent, okay?" He hushed, his voice coming out uncharacteristically soft.

"Of course, whatever you need." She smiled.

He felt like he needed to prove something to her, but what?

He rearranged the pillows for a third time. The candle lit canvas shroud of his tent draped in as much comfort as he could find. Or steal.

Blankets and plush pillows. Enchanted lights draped along the roof, a lavender candle burning on a plate.

He sighed, this was too much. He was being silly.

"May I come in?" She whispered outside of the closed flap.

"I'd like nothing more." He crooned, sitting as casually as he could manage.

She ducked in and blinked in surprise. Eyes trailing along.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" She started getting comfortable. Pulling the pins free from her hair and shaking it down her back. Leaving her shoes in a neat line at the entrance.

Something about seeing her like this again made his heart sing. That casual intimacy that he desired in the cradle of his tent.

She kneeled down across from him, pulling her collar away from her neck. Turning her head to the side, bending open for him.

He leaned forward and gathered her into his hands, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. Breathing in.

She could feel his need, touching his arm uncertainly.

"Are you okay, Star?" She hushed.

He slid his hand down her back, his eyes closed. Fingers mapping her into his memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." His voice coming out gravelly.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" She whispered, and he nodded into the side of her neck.

She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, his hands only leaving her to toss it far in the corner.

Sat in only the underclothes hugging her hips, she waited patiently as his eyes drank her.

The spread of her hips dipping into her waist. The round full of her breast. The soft curve of her stomach. An oil painting come to life.

"You're very comfortable in the nude." He teased, trying to jumble his thoughts back into his slack head.

"It takes practice." She smiled. "People usually don't want to see the wares stored away."

He could feel the confusion strike his face.

"What do you mean by that, darling?"

"Oh, I figured the others would have gossiped by now. Huh, good for them."

She flourished down her body. "This used to go to the highest bidder."

His hands slowed, pulling away.

"You were a sex worker?"

"What makes you think I'm not still one?" She winked, and he felt a hard shock of sudden recognition in her mannerisms. This was his playing field.

"Tav..." He paused, trying to wrestle his thoughts into a carefully picked set of kind words. She didn't need to know that part of his past yet. He could stand to pretend to be at least somewhat competent for a while longer.

"I get if that turns you off. We can go back to just feeding if you want."

"Well, what do you want?" He leaned his head, looking at her. Dead heart phantom hammering.

She seemed to consider it. "I think I like you, and I want to be near you. In whatever way that means to you."

He leaned forward, sliding on knees to reach her.

He laced his arm around her back, their lips hovered across one another. Her breath tickling his lips.

Sliding his hand down her front, he held her eyes.

A collective breath held between them, only broken as his fingers dipped into her heat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, hips tilting forward.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she rocked into him, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She tried to reach for his trousers. He huffed out a soft no and led her hands to drape over his neck.

He looked at her with lidded eyes, pulsing his long fingers into her molten heat. Curving and catching the spongy wall.

She squirmed, gripping onto his thighs. One single breath passed between them. Speaking in panting and soft moans.

He pushed her onto her back, sliding down. His mouth coming down to lick in long stripes above his fingers.

She shuddered, head falling back. Gasping out little cries for him.

All of her sounds, her arching movements, wrapping around his mind in a haze.

He ground his erection into the bunched blankets on the tent floor.

His arousal a warm rhythm inside his body for once. The practiced working of his mouth finally put to a worthy effort.

He twisted his tongue into her, slurping and suckling. Free hand holding her in place as her hips tried to escape.

"Fuck," She hissed, gripping his hair. Legs starting to shake around his ears.

He moaned low and deep into her. His cock throbbing, hips fucking into the blankets.

"Oh fuck, Astarion. I'm-" But she was already rising off of the blankets, head wrenched back.

He followed her up, gripping her ass.

She squeaked out a few rising cries then fell apart in his hands. Tremoring rising up through her body, rippling outwards from where his mouth was still pulsing. Her head lolled, little jolts from her cunt as the creamy slick of her spend met his tongue. Lapping it in greedily.

He gasped. It rocketed against his skull like her blood. He needed more.

He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and dove back into her. Hungry. Messy. Uncontrolled. Completely cutting off his breath. He didn't need it anyway.

Her eyes shot open, moaning out.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, bracing herself next to her head. Holding on as he took her apart.

He felt crazed, his hunger for her blood and the slick he pulled from her one and the same. The sounds coming from his lapping obscene.

Closing his eyes, he growled. Fingernails biting down into her ass. Saliva and slick dripping down his jaw.

One more hard swirling pull on her clit and she was shuddering hard, a strained moan of curses flowing from her lips. Eyes rolling back in her skull like marbles.

He yanked her towards him in anticipation, fingers rubbing hard into her clit encouragingly.

Her second wave of creamy slick met his tongue, so sweet and rich. Lighting his skull up in streaks of pleasure.

He pulled his weeping cock from his leathers and stroked with his slick soaked hand. Once, twice, and he was gone. Spurting thick ropes under his body, whimpering out pulsing cries as the pleasure wrenched out of him.

He lapped at her as long as she would allow, eventually gently pushing his head back.

"Gods below, Star. That was... that was heaven." She gasped.

He murmured in agreement, head falling into the inside of her thigh. Fingers trailing the silk of her side, the arch of her ribcage.

"Do you want me to stay?" She hushed, scratching lightly along his scalp.

He moaned softly, nodding into her.

"Come here to me." She purred, pulling him up her body. Resting his head against her chest.

The beat of her heart a steady tranquil drum. Her arms and legs tangled in his. He puddled into her, both of her hands scratching in slow lines along his skull.

For the first time in a long time, he fell into a heavy sleep.

The night passing dreamless.

~

#gale just like. i hate it here #astarion smut #astarion x tav #screenshot by @cheekylittlepupp #lyrics from: the garden - the crane wives

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER

continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).

maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.

maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.

when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.

GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):

they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.

they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.

BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):

after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).

blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.

DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):

unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.

he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.

all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):

lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.

if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):

mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.

if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.

he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.

sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.

THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):

theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.

theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.

theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.

out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.

theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.

similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.

they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week

monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).

the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.

mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.

they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.

#yandere harry potter #yandere draco malfoy #yandere blaise zabini #yandere theodore nott #yandere mattheo riddle #yandere lorenzo berkshire #yandere goyle #yandere crabbe #yandere slytherin #hp #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #gregory goyle #slytherin boys #golden era #hp writings

[strawberryspence]

There's a red string, strung and tied into a small bow on Steve's pinky finger. It never breaks, never fades. It stretches for miles and miles and miles. There's a shimmer in it when it hits the sunlight. It's beautiful, meaningful. His connection to his soulmate.

Steve's always been excited, always been curious as to who is on the other end of it. His mother has always told him to not follow it, that it may be dangerous, he could get lost.

He only tried following the string once. He was twelve, alone at the big house, with no parents and no friends. The string reminds him that there's a person on the other side of it, there's comfort in that. He follows it— follows, follows, follows— until he reaches the Hawkins Sign and sees the road ahead. The string still goes for ages, and it could go anywhere. He goes home to that dark, lonely house, and cries so hard the string vibrates in the dark.

When Steve finds the other end of his string, he thinks, its too late. The people around him— his parents, his friends, his peers— has already dictated who he was supposed to be. He finds the other end of it just at King Steve's peak. He finds it in between the fame and arrogance. He finds it, in the middle of the cafeteria, standing high on top of a table.

The string tightens, almost like it's pulling him to the other end. But as they stare at each other, from opposite sides of the cafeteria. Both having the realization that they are each other's soulmates and both knowing they can't do anything about it.

Steve tears his eyes away from him, tears his eyes away from Eddie Munson, tears his eyes away from his soulmate and continues back to his life. He continues as he learns that monsters exist, that there are kids being experimented on, that he can still change, that not everything is set in stone.

When the kids first mention the mysterious, eccentric, dungeon master that adopted them. The one with cool tattoos and long, frenzied hair. A name the kids cheered for in between the shelves of Family Video, that makes Steve's string glisten in anticipation. He thinks, maybe it's not too late.

And when Spring '86 finally comes around, and Steve watches as Dustin and Max scurry to find the man. Steve relents, his own concern and worry overflowing from the beams. He tells them to get in the car, as Robin closes up the store. They all silently watch as Steve follows his string.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie whispers, broke bottle held against Steve's neck.

The string between them shimmers in anticipation, its the closest they have ever been to each other. They can almost feel it vibrate in excitement.

"We're here to help." Steve answers back. He wishes— not for the first time— that he knows his soulmate. Knows what comforts him, knows what makes him feel better.

But as Eddie pulls away, finally calming down and telling them what truly happened. Steve thinks that his curiosity could wait till later. It's not too late. Not yet. Steve just has to help Eddie out of this.

"You want to talk about it?" Eddie asks, just after Steve thanks him for coming after him in the lake. Like Eddie would leave his own soulmate to drown and die in the underground world that just ate him.

"About what?" Steve asks. He knows what Eddie's asking, but he wants to be sure, doesn't want to step into boundaries.

Eddie raises his pinky, the string lifting with his hand, and it's fascinating as Steve sees his string being pulled this close by the other end.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Steve asks back, eyes wide.

"Do you?" Eddie challenges.

Steve is tired, and there's an ache in his body, maybe it's the bites or maybe it's the ache to be near Eddie. "Yes. I want to talk about it. But maybe not right now. Not here."

Eddie's taken aback for a second before he chuckles, "Yeah. Okay. We'll talk later."

"Later."

There's no later, not when they're just about to go to war with some evil wizard that can gauge their eyes from the inside. Just before it's time to go, just before it's time to go to war. Steve reminds Dustin and Eddie to be safe, to not be heroes. Steve turns because he needs to leave, if he doesn't do it right now, he's not sure if he'll ever go. Eddie calls him back.

"Steve."

Steve turns back. Only because it's Eddie and he'll always turn back for Eddie.

Eddie looks at him. Big brown eyes shining under the red sky. Eddie raises his pinky again, the ribbon tied on it tightens instinctively. There's a certain softness in his face; tender and hope mushed together.

"Stay alive."

Steve nods, raising his own pinky.

"Later."

Eddie nods, and they both turn from each other.

There's a moment. Just a sliver of it, where they think they won. If Steve has to describe it, he will say that it feels exactly like gasping for air after a long lap in the pool.

Steve realizes that they're wrong when the vibrant red of his string flickers to something duller. It's the first time it ever does that, and his heart drops. No.

"I told you not to be a hero!" Steve cries out, as Eddie's blood spills from everywhere.

"I know. I am sorry." Eddie smiles weakly at him.

"We got to move you. We got to—" When Steve moves him, Eddie moans in pain, tears spilling from his eyes. Steve steadies him again, doesn't move another inch to give his soulmate some kind of comfort. The pain of it goes straight into his ribs and into his chest.

"There's not gonna be a later. I am sorry, sweetheart." Eddie looks up at him, smiling softly as he cups Steve's face. "I am sorry I didn't talk to you earlier."

"I am sorry I didn't either." Steve sobs, clutching on Eddie's hand.

"We're soulmates." Eddie says. There finality in the statement, no room for questions and confusion. "We'll find each other again."

"No, Eddie." Steve shakes his head, stubborn as ever.

Eddie's hand slips off Steve's face, "See you soon, sweetheart."

Steve doesn't know what happens next. Nobody ever explained it to him. He thinks it's cruel that nobody ever prepares you for this moment. As he watches the once bright string finally die down, the shimmering turning into nothing. Slowly, but surely, disappearing. His only connection with his soulmate— with Eddie— forever gone.

The only thing that's left is a black string, tied on his pinky without its other half.

It's too late now.

-> my beautiful @undreaming-fanfiction's happier ending

#should i apologize #i dont feel bad #i love this idea #steddie soulmates forwver #its so mwa chefs kiss #tw mcd #tw blood #tw major character death #hehehehehehehehheheehehhehehehehe #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #steddie fic #steddie angst #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie soulmate au

[tamayula-hl]

Me a few days before the launch of Hogwarts Legacy: it's set at Hogwarts in 1890… It's too bad there are hardly any characters I know… I really wanted to play a game set in 1970s Hogwarts with Severus, Lily and the marauders… Well, since there's going to be a Wizarding World game, I'll just buy it and hope I can contribute to sales…

Me at present:

My year has been made so much better by an unexpected encounter with so charming a boy as Sebastian Sallow on 8 February, the first day of pre-play 🥹💕 The characters Sebastian, and Ominis too, were so fascinating that I drew 163 pieces of HL fanart this year (about 300 drawings in total if I count scribbles and manga pages)… I've never drawn so many drawings in my life!

(Of course, this is still the song I heard the most this year... 😚)

Meeting the Slytherin Boys has allowed me to try many other things besides drawing. Making acrylic products, making plush toys, but most of all, my biggest challenge this year was to communicate with people from all over the world in English on Tumblr. I am a shy person who can't speak English at all, but I have been able to muster up the courage to communicate in this way because I want to talk about the charms of Seb and Omi with other people. I can only thank the Slytherin Boys and everyone who put up with my poor English! Thank you so much 😭💞

Next year is going to be quite busy until after spring, so I won't be able to do as much drawing as I did this year, but I will still continue to go crazy for Seb and Omi 😏✨ Thank you for everything this year! Have a happy new year 🙌

[lavender-romancer]

Burden

Part One Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Five years after leaving Hogwarts, after ruining everything, he was drunk on your doorstep trying to fix what he had broken.

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

He was a burden to everyone in his life, he would be alone forever watching everyone he knew fall in love and live their life. Sebastian was not a good person, he was selfish and longed for deep connections he would never be able to sustain. Ruining the connection he had to you had turned him into someone he hated. He had no real connections anymore, his friendship with Ominis had continued fading regardless of them both working in the Ministry. All Sebastian wanted to do was apologise to everyone he had ever known, to try to minimise the impact of his existence.

The only person to blame for all of his problems was himself, it filled him with such a deep self hatred that he didn't know where to channel. It usually gave him a ridiculous amount of motivation in his work as an Auror because he knew nothing in his formative years would be remembered as heroic by anyone. A selfish, stupid, scared little boy was all he was for so long that escaping it seemed impossible. Could he ever be a good person with no hope for personal gain? Had he ever really done something kind or thoughtful for someone? No one would ever bear witness to the person he could have been because he didn't have the energy to commit to it.

You had seemed to love the scared, selfish boy he was. But Sebastian didn't realise until you were gone because he never thought someone could love this face he was so afraid of. Such kindness and an unnerving support he had never felt before, not knowing how to appreciate it he squandered it all. Losing you killed his heart, or, what was left after Anne forbade him from seeing her. He was so fucking sorry that he had ever met you, for your sake. If he had never used you, under the guise of asking for help, none of it would have happened. He wouldn't have upset you, he wouldn't have made you cry.

From the first moment he met you, every thought contained you, every book echoed your wizarding skill, every case he had as an auror only made him think of how you would react in the situation. But all Sebastian would have done- if they did end up together- was hold you back from your true potential because he could never escape his own selfishness. He knew he would kill for you, but you didn't want that. You didn't need dark magic or tricks to show your devotion to someone like he did. You were just… good, a good person who deserved the world that Sebastian should have given you. He would regret that till he day he died, always looking at you with so much love and care that he never knew how to express. The love was replaced by petty comments, calling you ignorant and acting out when he should have just stopped for a moment. Realised that maybe you could love him too, if he'd stopped for a moment he would know to stand by your side.

His head was a mess of firewhiskey and opium, he lay on the floor of his dark flat silently crying at the life he dreamt of with you. A better man could sweep you off your feet, show you love in ways he didn't understand. Held you close to his chest and tell you just how much he loved you without breaking down. You needed someone stronger than him, someone who wasn't tempted by substances and women. Someone who didn't self-sabotage every relationship and friendship he had ever had. You deserved more than he could ever give you. If you ever saw how fucked up he really was, even now, he didn't know how you'd react. Showing himself bare to the world and to you was too terrifying to consider. He was deep in this pit of despair that he had created, so consumed by his own psyche that letting anyone in was too intimidating to consider.

He didn't know when he had got up and began walking on the pavement towards the flat he knew you used to live in. He didn't know what he was doing, how disheveled he looked or that his tears had made his collar wet. Did you even live there anymore? Did you have a husband or any children? He began to overthink everything he had done in his life up until now. Did you know how much of a mess he was? Did Ominis keep you updated on how alone he really was? Or had you just forgotten about him? Regardless of what his head thought, his legs were taking him to you.

Had he locked his door? He didn't remember, but at this point nothing else seemed to matter like seeing your face and telling you everything. If he had realised how pathetic the whole thing was- as he did the following morning- maybe he wouldn't have gone. But he wasn't sure. In all the years since he had been close with you, he had never had the courage to see you again until the substances mixed in his system gave him a false sense of security.

Imagining you as the same girl who was his first kiss, his only love, the person he had disappointed the most. What if you never knew how he felt? Sebastian didn't think he could have less of a will to live at this moment but he knew that not seeing you might have been the final nail in his coffin. You would make everything alright. In his head, that was the only thing making sense to him. If he saw you, everything would sort itself out.

His dreams and fantasies of holding you, kissing you, loving you had to be real. At least in that moment that was what he thought. Sebastian would think about you for hours, dreaming up scenarios that would never happen. But that didn't matter right now, he was at your doorstep.

He was by no means sober, but the cold air had sobered him up to a point of considering this was a terrible idea. That he would do something irreversible, you would see him break down and not know what to do. As he knocked on your door at almost 12 am, some part of his soul hoped you didn't live here anymore.

But when you opened the door and found a man you never believed you would see again, you didn't know what to do. What to say, how to react, whether you should shut the door or hold him in your arms. What was he doing here? Why now? After all the years of hurt and confusion you wanted the concrete slabs on your doorstep to swallow you whole.

“Y/n, I…” he began, but as he looked into your eyes, so confused and perhaps scared, all he could do was let tears fall from his own. How could he do this to you? How could he ruin your night? “I-I’ll leave now and you won't have to, won't have to see me again.” He stuttered over his words and nearly fell down the steps.

“Sebastian,” you said almost too softly for him to hear and he turned his head, “Come inside.”

Of course you invited him inside, you were too lovely, too caring to realise what a fucking mess he was. The sobering effect was minimised when he stepped into the warmth of your flat, he was ushered into the drawing room where the two of you sat on adjacent chairs in silence. How could this conversation even begin? Neither of you knew what to say to one another, least of all Sebastian who was slowly realising that he shouldn't be there.

“Ominis told me you're a successful Auror now.” You started, convinced that the only way to get you through this conversation was hollow pleasantries.

“Yes,” Sebastian cleared his throat, acutely aware of how wet his cheeks were. “Do you work for the ministry as well?”

“Yes, thank you for asking. In the law department.” You replied curtly, your hands slightly trembling in your lap.

“I-” he paused, considering his words to cut through the anxiousness in his head “I'm sorry, for interrupting your night.”

“It is always nice to see an old friend,” that drove a stake into Sebastian's heart. “Under different circumstances it would perhaps be better.” Your smile was polite.

“I do not want to overstay my welcome, I'm sure you have other things to attend to.” Sebastian could feel tears threatening to fall. He sniffed to try and rid his body of the ache he felt all over.

“Nonsense, stay here for a moment.” You stood up and left the room, Sebastian half expected you to return with your wand and demand he leave but you didn't.

“I knew I would see you again one day,” she returned a few moments later with a small box and a glass of water. “This is some of the memories from hogwarts and I realised I still had some of your things with them.” Sebastian gratefully took the glass of water and drank it quickly. You sat down in the same chair as before and brought out a Slytherin scarf along with a small pin and tried to hand it to him.

“You- do you not want them anymore?” He asked quietly, having no idea what was going on and feeling an urge to run away. His fantasy of your life together was slowly crumbling.

“I thought.” You began to say but stopped, placing the items neatly in your lap as you ran your hand over the fabric that was still soft.

“They were gifts, I don't want you to think you have to give them back.” Sebastian replied, staring at the floor because he knew if he met your gaze he would start crying uncontrollably.

“Do you still have my scarf?” You asked timidly.

“Of course, I wouldn't want to part with it.” Sebastian ran a hand over his extremely loose tie and began to tighten it with great difficulty.

“Let me do it, you always struggled with not looking scruffy at school.” You leant over and began unraveling his tie, tying it up in a much more presentable fashion. Your movements were slow and careful, scared you would spook him like some kind of wild beast.

“Thank you.” Sebastian managed to weakly say, still unable to look you in the eye and choosing to flick his eyes back and forth from his own hands to the scarf you still had on your lap.

After you were done you placed your hands back on the scarf, methodically touching it with the care you had always shown it. There was silence for a while, but you were unable to decipher in your mind whether it was awkward or comfortable. Who was this man in front of you who made your hands shake? Sebastian had been out of your life for so many years that you didn't know how to think around him. Whether you should tell him how often you thought of him, how much you wanted to see his smile and play with his hair as you watched the stars in the Astronomy Tower all over again. His name felt so comfortable coming from her mouth, her lips craved to tell him everything but the ache all over her body told her that it might not be wise. You still had the scarf, your connection to a Sebastian who seemed long gone. Replaced by a man who couldn't reach your gaze or tell you why he was there without letting tears fall.

“I will take my leave now. Leave you alone.” Sebastian said quietly as he stood up.

“Sebastian, please I-” you started.

“I'll only ruin things.” He said even quieter before walking away quicker than you could react. You would never know, you will never know, you should never know how he felt.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

next- blurry eyes

#sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #Sebastian Sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy characters #hogwarts legacy #harry potter world #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow

[slytherizz]

Sebastian Sallow with a Muggle Significant Other Headcanons

Co-authored by @diligentcranberry

Sheepish as he is to admit it, until he met them, Sebastian always felt rather bad for muggles and their lack of magic.

Being rather shocked initially when he realised that this captivating person who has caught his attention is, in fact, not a wizard/witch at all yet they're so bright and clever he is fascinated by them.

Scheming of ways to get around the statute of secrecy when they're first together because being limited from magic in front of them at first feels like torture.

And he wants to impress them and open them up to all these amazing things he knows.

But the more time he spends with them discussing mythology, history, art, and all manner of things challenging his mind in new ways, that need for magic lessens.

Seb, who realises it may not be the magic he craves but the intellectual stimulation from learning and debating.

Initially baffled by their muggle habits and how long everything takes.

Seb who realises how when his partner does something as simple as brewing a cup of tea for him it takes so much more effort, but he swears it makes it taste better.

Sebastian, whose love language is acts of service and wants to take care of the people he loves.

Starts doing things for them the muggle way and expressing that love in the labour of it a flick of a wand can't replicate.

Relishes how heavy their bags are when he insists on carrying them. How their skin puckers when they wash dishes together. How long the journey is when travelling by train and not by floo and all this time they get just to talk and be with eachother.

Experiencing life in a completely different rhythm, he always thought he'd find tedious, but doing it together makes even the mundane seem spectacular.

Sebastian who loves magic and continues to pour over spell books, but his partner opens his eyes to this whole vast world of topics he never knew anything about, and his mind is blown.

He's inhaling anything he can get his hands on science, technology, engineering, and muggles are achieving these incredible things without magic he's not even seen wizards accomplish.

21 year old Seb in 1896 reading a muggle newspaper his partner passes him one morning and finding out about X-rays and radium and he's nothing short of giddy.

Kissing his bemused partner spinning them around wildly because muggles are bloody brilliant and they are the most spectacular of the bunch.

Sebastian who starts using magic less and less at home because his partner makes it seem frivolous.

This has come from mine and Cran's very niche Henry Winters (the secret history) x Sebastian Sallow (Hogwarts Legacy) AU but I think a lot of the headcannons we've been gushing over work for Seb x Muggle!SO regardless.

I'd literally love to hear any other headcannons on this because we have been consumed and loving talking about these.

#Henry x Seb brainrot hitting hard #this niche fucking au owns me mind body and soul #if anyone has read the secret history please come hit up me and cran #i love my big bi murderous boys #also seb in the 80s is just a vibe #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcanons #sebastian sallow headcanons #sebastian sallow x muggle

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

I Wasn't Completely Nude

Chapter 2

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and the company are off to reclaim Erebor. But how long will you and Thorin be able to last until you're back at each other's throats?

Warnings: angst, implied sex work, no use of y/n

author's note: I already wrote the first 8-9 chapters of this series so there will be a lot of frequent updates while I'm editing those!

Word count: 1506

The sun has barely started to rise over the hills of the shire when you are awoken by a gentle shake to your shoulder.

 “Rise and shine, lass,” Dwalin’s voice pulls you further from sleep.

You groan and pull the blanket over your head. Your head is pounding from the ale and you’d love nothing better to slip into a death-like sleep for at least another week. 

Unfortunately, the leader of your company has other plans for you.

“If you aren’t ready in the next five minutes we’re leaving without you,” Thorin calls.

You peek your head out from under the blanket to see him packing his things back into his bag. “Everyone else is already up,” he glares at you.

You shove the blanket onto the floor and reach your arms up overhead in a good morning stretch. “Yeah well, not everyone else drank their entire body weight in alcohol last night.” 

“No one asked you to do that,” he reminds you with a grunt.

“Well if you’re going to spend the entire journey to Erebor talking down to me like that, I think I’m going to need a lot more alcohol in my system.”

“If you’re going to have a problem with being under my command, you are more than welcome to stay behind with Master Baggins.” He reminds you. 

You push yourself to your feet ready to tell him exactly what he can do with his command, when Balin appears between the two of you before you can continue. 

“Honestly you two, we haven’t even stepped foot on the road yet and you’re already at each other’s throats!” Balin redirects Thorin’s attention to going over the map again in the dining room before you can continue bickering.

You let out a huff of annoyance as you stomp off to the spare room to change clothes. 

You are determined to not let Thorin’s presence distract you from the excitement of being able to wear pants again. Of course, your mother never let you wear anything other than dresses growing up, and although your dwarven blood has always drawn you to all things sparkly and beautiful, you have always been a warrior at heart.

Fighting in a dress, while not impossible, is both impractical and extremely frustrating. When you aren’t working or traveling you try and wear them as often as you can. Traveling as a woman wearing anything other than a dress and corset attracts too much unwanted attention to make the freedom of movement worth it. 

But you figured traveling with a company of 13 dwarves and a wizard was already going to make you stick out, so you might as well be dressed for the fights that will inevitably be waiting for you.

You sigh in relief as you finish unlacing the corset, slipping it and your dress into your pack for now. You replace it with a form-fitting pair of trousers, a flowy blouse, and some comfortable riding boots. You decide to let your hair hang down around your shoulders for now, the braided strands by your face keeping it out of the way enough for now. 

There are still a few hunks of bread and fruit left in the pantry for you to munch on while gathering up the last of your things from the hobbit’s home. You regret that you aren’t able to thank your host before stepping out the front door but after last night's excitement and the early hour, he must be dead asleep.

Your pony, Onyx, is waiting for you outside, whimpering happily when she sees you approaching. You whisper sweetly to her as you stroke her mane, letting her nibble on some of the fruit you set aside for her.

She is a beautiful creature, with a strong frame and hair as dark as the night. If it weren’t for her small stature and sweet disposition you’d think she had galloped right out of hell’s gate. You pat her side affectionately as you start securing your things to her saddle. 

You feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn slightly to look over your shoulder at Thorin, who is openly staring at the curve of your rear in the pants.

He abruptly turns away when he sees that you’ve caught him staring. And it suddenly occurs to you how long it’s been since he’s seen you in pants, since the battle at Moria, where his grandfather, your King, Thror, was lost. But even then you had been wearing heavy layers of Dwarvan armor. Unlike now, where only a few layers of fabric cling to your form, revealing the silhouette of your curves.

You slowly bend over at the waist, pretending to fix the laces on your boot with a wicked smile on your face. You could swear you hear his jaw clenching behind you. It would seem you’ve found a way to pass the time on the road. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the nip in the air, you decide to forego wearing a cloak. Preferring instead to feel the air whispering against your skin and running through your hair. Even as the rain starts pouring down above you, you ride on. Despite the fact, that your white blouse is now completely soaked through, revealing your chemise underneath.

The other dwarves are very polite about it, if they notice they don’t stare or draw any attention to the amount of skin you now have on display. The same can’t be said of your leader.

You feel a heavy cloak gently come to rest on your shoulders and you turn to see Thorin has moved ahead to ride beside you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you say, pulling the warm furs off of you and handing them back to him.

“That wasn’t a request,” he replies curtly. Tossing the cloak back to you, more assertively this time. “I won’t have you catching cold and slowing down the entire company.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance and toss it back to him. “I appreciate your concern,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm, “but I’ll be fine, I don’t mind the rain.”

He grunts and picks up the cloak again. “If you try and hand that to me one more time I’m going to let it fall in the mud,” you warn him. 

He believes you, of course, but isn’t ready to let it go. He growls your name in a low warning. You keep your eyes directly on the road ahead, pretending to be completely oblivious to his frustration.

“I can see your underclothes,” he whispers as if you didn’t already know. You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. Giving Onyx a gentle kick to pick up the pace, but Thorin stays right alongside you.

“I can see your breasts,” he elaborates. Again you shrug, and that only seems to irritate him more. 

“Just be glad I’m not making you pay for it, how do you think I made a living all these years?” you tell him with a wink. He looks at you in confusion for a moment, before it all clicks. 

“Did you? Are you a?” you laugh at the panic in his eyes.

“Oh relax, it’s not what you think. I was just a dancer. I kept my clothes on. Most of them anyways…” The legendary Thorin Oakenshield is left speechless as he stares at you with eyes wide, before narrowing them at you in annoyance.

“I went to great lengths to ensure you wouldn’t ever have to do anything like that. And you’re telling me you just threw it all away to dance naked in front of countless men for money?” you scoff at his accusation. It’s true that he secured you a respectable job in a quiet town and a long term room at an inn, but only so he could leave you behind to continue on with the rest of your kin. With a few halfhearted excuses and harsh words he turned his back on you when you needed him the most. He had been your closet friend, the one person you trusted most in all of middle earth and he let his pride get the better of him. All you had left after you watched him ride off towards the blue mountains that day, was a heavy grief and a burning anger that has never fully extinguished. 

“Were you even listening? I said I wasn’t completely nude. And don’t pretend like you made some big sacrifice for my benefit. You went to those great lengths just so you wouldn’t have to put up with me anymore.” you snap.

You wait for him to counter with a jab of his own but it never comes. 

When you look over at him he’s looking back at you with a sad look on his face.

“Is that what you think?” he asks in a low whisper, “ that I was trying to get rid of you?”

You force yourself to look away from him. And this time when you urge Onyx further ahead of him, he lets you go.

Next Chapter

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

[nanamimizz]

tags: written for @prettyboykatsuki in mind. reader is gn, and is a rouge with a thief/street urchin background. marriage and discussion of children. takes place in act 3, spoilers for wyll’s personal quest. discussion of marriage. fluff.

synopsis: you overhear wyll bragging to the children. at first you think nothing of it until you hear him say somethings you weren’t privy to.

Wyll is good with children, a truth not doubted but known ever since you had met the fabled folk hero in the Emerald Grove. It’s something you hardly do not think of, if you don’t want to end up in some sort of frenzy of thoughts better left unsaid. At least for the chapter of life you two are currently in. Maybe, you think as you clutch the wishing acorn the love of your life had gifted you in the palm of your hand, maybe when all this is over you could discuss such things as a family with him. When Wyll is free of Mizora’s hands completely, when his father is safe from all plots and schemes and when the little friend in your head has been cast out - yes, you think, you would like to utter the words of a family to Wyll’s ever so kind ear.

Unlike you however, your intended is not as patient as you can hear him bragging to the tiefling children you have both met and saved in your travels to Baldur’s Gate. It makes you chuff, like a pleased tiger and shake your head oh so fondly as he utters tales of your adventures. As you draw near you can make out the words - he’s telling the tales of defeating the goblin camp leaders. The adventure feels like a lifetime ago but not the phantom ache of the knot on your head you sustained from Dror Ragzlin knocking you well and good on the head.

You hear one of the kids, Mattis with his shaggy dark hair and mischievous eyes that glitter like the gold he covets with his not-so-lucky rings.

“Looks like you don’t do much now, do you Blade of Frontiers?” Mattis mocks, snickering behind his red hand. Wyll laughs good-naturedly, letting the teasing roll off his back smoothly like water off a duck’s wing. It’s something you envy, how Wyll is never riled up by such empty words. Mattis pouts, petulant as he throws another half baked insult at the man.

“And what’s with you letting your allies take such a beating - first Karlach now this? Having a hard time picturing what good you are for Blade?” Wyll huffs a chuckle, a smug smile tugging at his full lips and you stare a little too deeply at how white his teeth are in the afternoon sun.

“Things are different now you see - I have another story for you…” Wyll continues on with the tale of where you fought off Roah Moonglow, a Zhentarim trader who stole all the gold in the common’s people’s coffers; there had been a fatal mistake that you had made and Wyll had saved you at the perfect time. Even had a second to spare to throw in a witty comeback and a brilliant smile your way before the fight continued. Mattis’s face scowled as even he had to admit that the story succeeded in making the Blade appear just as cool as you and Karlach.

If barely.

“So what’s different now? Did you finally know how to hold your own in a fight?” Mattis pouts, conceding that maybe the Blade of Frontiers was more cool than dorky. Wyll grins, brilliant teeth on display at the apple of his cheeks raised.

“I’m their husband now. No one can ever hurt them while I’m around.”

Scratch that. The Blade of Frontiers will forever be corny in the eyes of these tiefling children for as long as you and Karlach live - they even think that know-it-all wizard that hangs around you is cool by default. The children all gag, making their sounds of disgust with Mattis being the loudest of them all. They are quick to disperse, going off to do what children do best in the times they live in and you approach Wyll as they leave.

“Calling yourself my husband now are we? It’s been less than a tenday since you asked me to be yours. Unless we’ve had a ceremony within the same amount of time - I think it’s a little too soon to call you such a revered title.”

Wyll jumps at the sound of your voice, your quiet steps always managing to go under his senses. It makes you laugh a little, how the smallest testaments of your background manage to slip past the hero’s defenses. You watch with adoring eyes as Wyll flushes with a warmth that makes him shine in the daylight as he brings a hand to rub at the back of his neck from embarrassment.

“Please - don’t tell me you heard all of that?”

“Oh yes I did. Every word in fact.”

Wyll hisses in embarrassment, and even then he doesn’t hesitate to look back into your eyes when you gently run your hand on his arm.

“Do you mean that - that nothing can hurt me while you are with me?” You ask your voice soft with tentativeness. He softens, gaze going from embarrassment to an eager honesty simmered with so much affection you neve once thought you would be looked at with. Wyll is a smart man, perspective and he knows what it is you ask - the battles that you have yet to face but will have to as fate decrees; its golden thread dictating every action and word that is to be spoken.

Wyll takes the hand on his arm into his and gazes at you, the brown of his eyes turning golden under the warmth of his words.

“Yes, truly. I may be the Blade of Frontiers sworn to protect the Sword Coast but,” he pauses to lick his lips as if tasting the sweetness of his confession before uttering it to you, “I am first and foremost a blade sworn to you. So whenever our enemies are drawn near, don’t hesitate to point me their way.”

The devotion is heavy in each word spoken, something you had never been witness to - loyalty and devotion only gets you killed in the streets. So it takes you a moment to collect yourself, to pick yourself off the floor from the weight of the goodness Wyll holds for you. You swallow before speaking, your voice thick.

“You already asked me to marry you - you don’t need to lay it on thick.” You say, trying to deflect but Wyll only smiles, eyes fond and gently as he lets his thumb caress the top of your hand.

“I know, I can’t help but be sweet to you. And I swear to the Helm I’ll live up to my word everyday.”

You smile, lacing your fingers with his.

“I’ll hold it to you Lord Ravengard.”

“I hope to exceed all expectations.” His smile is smig but his words are warm - lovinging and truthful. Just as Wyll always is.

#lamb.writes #wyll ravengard x reader #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #tav x wyll #wyll x tav

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Hiiii could you write a Remus Lupin (as an adult) with x reader who is a student at Hogwarts? Like a teacher x student one maybe? Like Remus knows that that is wrong but he can’t resist her even if he really tries to. Write smut or fluff both is good :)

Thanks in advance 💐

Stolen Glances || Remus Lupin x student!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • my other remus x reader oneshot ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where remus finds himself drawn to you against his better judgement even though you are one of his students

word count: 3.1k

warnings: age gap but it’s legal

a/n: tysm for this request lovely!! i hope this is what you wanted! also, for legal purposes the reader is in year seven and eighteen years old but you can imagine it however you want. also i made the reader a ravenclaw. enjoy!! 🎀🍓💌

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     You walked down the spiraling staircase that lead from your dorm to the Ravenclaw common room, a series of hallways, and eventually the majestic great hall at Hogwarts. 

You wrapped your cloak around yourself tighter in the chilly September temperatures. Even though you were within the walls of the castle, you still felt the cold in the air and rubbed your arms to stay warm. 

     You finally came to the great hall, stopping for a second to look around. Even though you’d been going to school here for six years you still found it a breathtaking sight. You kept walking and found a spot at the Ravenclaw table next to Penelope Clearwater, your best friend of four years. You sat down, piling food onto your plate quickly and shoving it into your mouth even quicker. 

     “Woah, slow down (Y/n)!” Penelope said.

     “Good morning to you too,” you teased, “I’m in a hurry. I’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts in ten minutes.”

     You had probably taken too many classes for your own good this year. But you wanted to take as many subjects as you possibly could in your last year at Hogwarts. And you wanted to start this year off by not being late to your first class. 

     “So do I,” Penelope took a bite of a biscuit, “Third floor right? I’ll walk with you.”

     You finished your breakfasts and gathered your books, heading towards the staircase that would take you to the third floor. 

     “So who do you think we’re gonna have this year?” you asked your friend. Every year since your 5th year when Professor Quirrell had been killed in a fight with Harry Potter after he began aiding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you’d had had a different Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You shuddered, thinking of the dark wizard. 

     “I don’t know, but I hope whoever it is actually teaches us something instead of the other way around,” she said. You laughed, knowing she was referring to Professor Lockhart, your last DADA teacher. 

     You turned a corner, passing a few other students with early classes making their way down the hallway. 

     You walked into the classroom and found a man with his back to you, his head bent over a book on his desk. His robes looked well worn, and his brown hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Upon hearing you and your friend walk into the classroom, he turned around noticing you and Penelope and giving you a warm smile. 

     “Good morning…,” he paused waiting for you to tell him your names.

     “I’m (Y/n) (Y/l/n) and this is Penelope Clearwater,” you answered.

     “Well Miss (Y/l/n) and Miss Clearwater, I’m Professor Lupin. I’m afraid you’re a bit early, but please take a seat anywhere you like.”

     You smiled back at him as you went to sit in one of the chairs closest to you. Penelope sat down next to you and began flipping through one of the textbooks she held. You watched Professor Lupin as he went about what you assumed was finishing preparing his classroom. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t had a good nights rest in some time but there was something about the way he carried himself that seemed to hint at a subtle energy. Intrigued, you continued to watch him. He mumbled a few spells, rearranging what you hoped weren’t crates holding some sort of magical creatures. 

     “(Y/n)? Did you hear me,” Penelope broke you out of your thoughts. 

     “Oh, sorry, got distracted. What did you say?” 

     She rolled her eyes, smiling, “I just asked what you thought of the Professor but I think I have my answer.”

     You blushed despite yourself, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

     “Nothing,” she said cryptically. 

     You wanted to press her further but plenty of other students had started to filter in and take their seats and Professor Lupin now stood in front of the class, waiting.

     “Good morning everyone,” he said, “as most of you know, I am going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year.”

     He started pacing and continued. “I hope all of you will take this class as an opportunity to not only learn how to defend yourselves but to grow as witches and wizards. I want you to look inside yourselves. Most of all, I hope you come out of this class today with more questions than answers. I can see the potential in all of you as I look around this class and ask that you always apply yourselves to your full potential so you can become the best versions of yourselves.” He looked at the class with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. 

     You listened aptly and could have almost sworn he was looking right at you as he finished his speech, his eyes burning holes into your forehead. You looked down quickly, smiling to yourself. 

     “Now if there are no questions, I invite all of you to turn your books to page 10 and let us begin.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “I’m telling you, you like him,” Penelope said as she fought to walk faster to keep up with your pace as you tried to get to your next class and away from this conversation.

     “Penny, he’s a professor and you’re delusional.”

      She pulled at the strap of her bag as you guys walked. “I see the way you look at him.”

     You stopped abruptly, “Since when did focusing in class because I want to get good marks become fancying the teacher?” Besides, there was something about Professor Lupin that you just liked, even though you were only a few months or so into the school year. And not only because he was, you thought, attractive with his bright smile and kind eyes. He was intelligent and wise but also patient and you could tell he really cared for his students. Not that those students necessarily included you…

    “I see the way he looks at you too,” your friend wiggled her eyebrows. 

     “Ok, that’s it! No more romance novels for you,” you began walking again. You quickly added, “And besides he doesn’t really like me, remember?.”

    “I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Penelope matched your pace, “Why wouldn’t he? You make perfect marks and answer all his questions in class.” 

     It was true. You had kind of become known for being a teachers pet in most of your classes—much to the amusement and teasing of your best friend and the appreciation of your professors. Especially Lupin. Until recently, he had beamed every time you answered one of his questions or volunteered to demonstrate a spell. However, lately you got the feeling he didn’t like you all that much. Or at least was indifferent to you. You weren’t sure why, and couldn’t be certain, but you thought you didn’t imagine that he avoided looking in your direction. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but it did. You cared about his approval, wether you wanted to admit it or not. 

     “Drop it, Penny, ok?” She didn’t look like she would drop it anytime soon. 

     “‘Oh, Professor Lupin, what spell would you recommend using here? What is the counter-curse to this charm? Why don’t you love me? Why haven’t you asked me to marry you yet?” She mocked, giggling.

     “I heard that,” you snapped, not looking back. 

     You walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts together and found all of the desks pushed to the side and a group of students crowded in the center of the room with Professor Lupin standing next to a large wardrobe at the front. Turns out your pause in the hallway has made you a bit late, so you and Penelope snuck in right as class was starting. 

     “Alright students: Boggarts,” Professor Lupin said, not noticing as you two entered the classroom late, “who can tell me what they are?” 

     “They’re shapeshifting creatures, known for turning into the worst fear of whoever comes upon them,” you answered instinctually.

     “Show off,” Penelope mumbled, teasing you. You elbowed her in the rib. 

     “Very good, excellent!” Lupin beamed, looking around the grouping of students trying to find where the voice came from. Upon seeing who had answered him, he looked down and cleared his throat, continuing. You bit your cheek and looked at Penelope, as if to say: See? She furrowed her brow. 

     “Boggarts can only take the shape of a fear. They have no form of their own and therefore cannot hurt you. Now, I’m going to open this cabinet and I want a volunteer to step forward—don’t worry, you’ll all get a chance to participate—and at my command use the spell ‘Riddikulus’. Are you ready?”

     The first student, a nervous-looking boy with red hair, stepped forward. 

     Lupin took a few steps backwards, hand ready to open the cabinet. “Now, relax, hold your wand like so…and remember, the only thing you have to fear is fear itself.”

     He pulled it open with a flourish and within seconds a large scorpion took form. The boy let out a yell and jumped backwards but Lupin stayed calm, telling him what to do. Eventually, he was able to gain control of himself and the scorpion briefly donned a cowboy-hat before it was gone. The class applauded and the boy held his chin a little higher than he had before.

     In turn, all of your classmates had a go with the Boggart, which turned into a variety of fears from snakes to clowns to a stalk of celery, and when it finally came time for you to step forwards you weren’t feeling particularly terrified. 

     “Ready?” Lupin asked. When you nodded, he let the cabinet open and you almost stopped breathing entirely.

     There, in front of you, was who could only have been He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, grinning wickedly. You felt your legs turn to lead and watched as he reached out a bony finger towards you. You, of course, had never actually seen him, but you had no doubt that’s who stood in front of you. Rooted in place you felt like the world was spinning. You heard the other students’ distorted screams, as if they were coming from very far way and the last thing you remembered was Professor Lupin’s concerned face as he rushed towards you before everything went dark… 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     Light. The first thing you saw was a bright light as you squinted your eyes and tried to make sense of what was happening. You shut your eyes again. The last thing you remembered was being in class, the screaming of your classmates, and Vol—

     You shot up, your memory returning. You looked around you. You were sitting on a couch and appeared to be in a small sitting area decorated in browns and greens. Your head pounded but you felt wide awake. Suddenly, a voice startled you from behind. 

     “Miss (Y/l/n), good you’re awake.” You looked around you and saw Professor Lupin standing in the doorway behind you holding a steaming cup of tea. 

     Embarrassment flooded through you. You attempted a smile. Lupin walked over to you, handing you the cup of tea and offering you a piece of chocolate. 

     “Take this,” he said gently, “It’ll help.”

     You took them gratefully. Lupin sat down next to you. 

     “How are you feeling?” He asked, “Does anything hurt?”

     “Just my pride,” you smiled ruefully. Professor Lupin smiled back at you, the first time he’d really smiled at you in months. You wondered what had brought on the change but figured it was probably just because you’d passed out in his class and he felt bad for you. 

     “There’s no shame in being afraid, (Y/n),” he assured you. “If I’d known your Boggart would take the form of Vol—You-Know-Who, I promise I wouldn’t have made you face it.” 

     You appreciated his attempts to make you feel better, but you doubted anyone had ever fainted in his class before. You didn’t even know why, really. You-Know-Who was gone, or at least that’s what everyone was saying. There were…rumors though. But still. 

     “How long was I…out for?” You asked.

     “Not long,” he answered, “I know your friends will be glad to see you awake, though.” He made to get up.

     “Wait,” you stopped him, “where am I exactly?”

     He sat back down. “Oh, right, I—I brought you to my chambers. It was the first place I could think for you to lie down.”

     “Well, you have lovely taste,” you gestured around the apartment, admiring the decor. Professor Lupin laughed. “I’d say it’s nice in here if I wasn’t here on the grounds that I fainted in front of the whole class like a total loser.” 

     Lupin smiled, “Like I said, there is no shame in fear. And you’re not a loser. You’re one of the brightest students of your year and any Professor would be lucky to have the honor to teach you.”

     You were touched. You weren’t sure that  Lupin had uttered this many words to you in a month, much less so complimentary. 

     “Thank you,” you told him. 

     He looked at you warmly, and then as if suddenly catching himself, he looked at the clock on the far wall and said curtly, “Well, I really should be getting back to class and you need rest, stay as long as you like.”

     You didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in the professor’s mood but it frustrated you. You were grateful to him for helping you but suddenly just as you felt like he saw you as a person again, he dismissed you. Maybe on any other day you would have just let him leave, but now, lying on Remus Lupin’s couch and having already made a fool of yourself, you surprised yourself by saying, “Why do you hate me?”

     Lupin stopped in his tracks, turning around, “(Y/n), what?”

     Now that you had said it, you couldn’t stop saying things. “It’s just, I’m a good student. And I always participate in class and you can’t even look at me! And then you’re kind to me one second and the next you just act like I don’t exist. I just—what did I do to you?” You realized your head was hurting again and you leaned back on the couch cousin. 

     Lupin looked like he was fighting with himself and then he ran a hand through his hair and sat down beside you. “Miss (Y/l/n), i don’t hate you I can promise you that.” 

     When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “I think your a phenomenal student—person. Your bright and kind and wise beyond your years—” he breaks off, “and it isn’t that I don’t like you. I—the problem is, I like you too much.”

     What? You didn’t understand him. He sensed your confusion and tried again.

     “I never in my wildest dreams imagined saying this to you,” he looks down, “but here we are. You deserve the truth. I like you, Miss (Y/l/n). A lot. And the reason I find it hard to look at you is because I cannot deny my attraction to you and I know how wrong it is but I can’t—gosh I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I can’t resist you and it’s painful to look at you when I know I can never do anything about it.” 

     You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Of all the things you’d expected him to say…. You found yourself blushing. You tried to form words but couldn’t, your head still spinning. Lupin stood up.

     “Now I think it’s best if I leave,” he moved towards the door. 

     “Wait,” you found yourself saying. You walked closer to him, close enough so you could see the faint scars on his face and smell his scent of vanilla and cinnamon. You looked into his eyes and saw the struggle there. You didn’t know if it was the lighting or adrenaline or maybe it was still the effects of what had happened this afternoon but you leaned in and suddenly you were kissing him. 

     He pulled away, “(Y/n), we can’t—” but you pulled him in again. This time he didn’t fight it, kissing you back softly at first, hesitant, but then more passionately and you could feel the months he’d spent  waiting to do this but telling himself it would never happen. He moved a hand to your hair, the other on the small of your back. 

     He pulled away again. “(Y/n), we don’t have to do this. There are plenty of guys your age who’d be lucky to have you and I don’t want to tie you down with a—” 

     “I want you,” you interrupted, kissing him again. 

     Neither of you heard as the door opened and—

     “(Y/n),” a voice said, “someone said you were in here and—” the voice stopped abruptly. 

     You and Lupin pulled apart, gasping as you turned around and stared at Penelope. Her mouth was open and she was looking between the two of you in utter disbelief.

     “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were ok but it seems you are,” she mumbled, a small smile forming on her lips. 

     “Miss Clearwater,” Professor Lupin started but you interrupted him. 

     “It was my fault Penny, I kissed him.”

     “Now, Miss (Y/l/n),” Lupin began but this time 

     Penelope interrupted both of you, now smiling big, “I don’t care who’s fault it is, I’m just glad it finally happened.” You stared at her, amused.

     “Hey, I’m the one who said you were in love with him after months of you obsessing over him and—”

     “That’s a gross exaggeration.” Your cheeks flamed and Lupin smiled down at you. “And Penny—”

     “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me!” She beamed, putting a finger to her lips. “I’ll be outside.” She walked towards the door, looking at you wickedly. 

      “I’ll be out in a minute,” you called to her. And then you and Professor Lupin were alone again. 

     “Sorry about…that,” you said.

     “Don’t be,” he put his hands in his cloak pockets, “I didn’t know you were obsessed with me.”

     “Ok, I’m going to kill her!” You stomped your foot but you were smiling. 

     Lupin looked at you seriously now, and lifted a hand to brush your hair out of your face, “Still think I hate you?”

     “Maybe a little less,” you teased. You clasped his hand and he interlocked his fingers with yours. 

     “You’re beautiful, (Y/n). You know that? You’re one of the most special people I  know.”

     You leaned up and kissed him gently. “I’m so glad this happened,” you whispered. 

     “Me too,” he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ thank you @merthosus for the request, i hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoyed this!! i love writing for lupin so much also this whole thing was written while listening to taylor swift so do with that what you will 🎀have a lovely day/night <3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x student!reader #remus lupin #harry potter #student x professor #teacher x student #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

[finedinereception]

some details on what im tentatively calling wizard married au- in which betty is here from the start and happily magic married to her equally deranged husband.

past

like canon, betty flees when simon first wears the crown. however, there is no portal to the future this time. she finds somewhere else to stay, and during that time, she begins researching. she can tell that wasnt normal. surely if it had just been simon, he would have shown some symptoms of whatever that breakdown was. it had to have been the crown.

she pours herself into her research. it saves her life, because a few weeks later the bombs drop.

she uses her research to attain magic powers, a la magic betty. like simon, she obtains immortality. however, she loses her sanity the more she uses her magic.

a while after the bombs, she finally meets simon again. by this time hes picked up a travel buddy- marceline. the two of them are relieved and happy to see each other.

the apocalypse ironically saves their relationship.

turns out knowing you and your man are going insane and losing your memories is a pretty sobering, emotional thing to really grasp. it ends up breaking the wall between them, and theyre finally, finally able to begin sorting out the issues in their relationship.

this is an important moment between them. even when they fully lose themselves, it becomes the basis of their future relationship. betty starts doing things for herself, and simon starts paying more attention so he can stop her if she starts focusing too much on him again.

its never easy, but for a while, they get a sort of peace. a surprise family at the end of the world.

simon loses it first. during the night, when marceline is asleep, he tells betty that he has to go. hes held on longer than canon simon thanks to betty being around, but hes finally slipping, and hes worried hes going to hurt marcy. sure, betty could protect her… but shed be expending her own mind if she did so. betty knew this was coming, and they agree.

simon leaves before marcy wakes up, taking nothing but a scrapbook hed been keeping from before the bombs, and the clothes on his back. they should have waited- its something theyll regret in the far, far future. he should have said goodbye. but they didnt think they had the willpower to go through with it if they heard her begging. at the very least, betty is there to offer support.

betty continues to hang out for several more years. she gets to see marceline grow up. marcy can see with every spell that betty is becoming more reckless, more eccentric, more distant.

betty finally loses herself protecting marceline during a vampire hunt. she holds on just long enough to get herself away from marcy.

and she begins to travel. until one day, she finds herself inexplicably drawn to a land of ice.

they dont remember who simon and betty are. all they know is that hes ice king and shes magic queen and they love each other.

Betty Grof/Magic Queen

basically the “main character” of this au lol

she begins using the name “magic princess” when she can no longer remember her old one. it feels right to her. she changes to queen when she and ice king get hitched. she doesnt use the name “ice queen” because she no longer pins her identity to just simon. shes got her own stuff going on. hes part of her life, but not her entire life.

magic queens not around the ice kingdom as often as ice king. she likes to explore and travel! a huge amount of the books on ruins, dungeons, and artifacts were penned by her, from hands on research. shes well known around ooo as somebody who can be dangerous, but is also a very reliable source of information.

shes more “grounded” than ice king. she doesnt remember anything from before the war, or for a while after it. as far as she knows she just spawned on ooo ready to dungeon dive. still, shes better at retaining information, and can read a room better. shes still pretty eccentric, though, and likes showing off.

magic queen was the one who beat the shit out of ash and got his magic carpet. she doesnt remember marcy, but like ice king, finds herself inexplicably drawn to her. so when ash hurts her, it puts him on her shit list.

speaking of, she can hold a grudge. she ends up cursing finn for a while because he beat up ice king based on a misunderstanding.

shes the one who had the idea for a giant library in the ice kingdom. ice king helped with the room layout, and she collected the books.

magic queens doing a lot better mentally than canon betty was. her relationship with ice king has become way more healthy and balanced. shes happily married. she has 53 penguin children. shes been able to chase her dreams, and her work is acclaimed and respected.

shes still a creecher tho. girl is skittering through those dungeons. does a backflip and shoots fireworks into your eyes. she is very bold and loves doing crazy things just to see what happens.

gets her own “i remember you” episode where she takes marcy dungeon diving.

ice king/simon petrikov

stay at home husband now lmfao

but fr. he fully supports magic queen, but hes a pretty forgetful and clumsy guy, so they both agree that he probably shouldnt be dungeon diving with her.

he keeps things stable at home. takes care of the penguins and writes fanfic and plays music in his free time. hes come to really enjoy creative pursuits, even when hes not particularly good at them.

magic queen puts a gun to your head and forces you to read fionna and cake. ice queen (simone) and magic king (benny) if you even care btw.

mq ended up putting a checklist up in the home to make sure ik doesnt forget to take care of himself. eat breakfast you goof

instead of kidnapping princesses, he goes out often to find things mq has mentioned wanting or needing for her research. sometimes he steals them and it gets him in trouble. if hes being a real jerk mq will only step in to take him home. sometimes that man deserved to get his ass whooped.

hes already nicer and more stable to start out with since he has somebody to talk to whos nice to him. people wonder why magic queen sticks around and if you ask her she will get mad. hes funny!!! and sweet!!! also hes canonically caked up.

he wants to be a dad soooo bad. he spoils the penguins.

#adventure time #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof #marceline abadeer #wizard married au #they finally have a healthy and communicative relationship and it only took the end of the world #i have a lot of ideas here… maybe ill write out more if anybody is interested. #partially based on their cuter interactions in elements #the playing with birds scene lives rent free in my head

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you know of any solo RPGs that allow you to simulate a group/faction/place and many different NPCs? I guess I'm looking for something like a Sims or Dwarf Fortress but in the form of a TTRPG. Let me create a town and its inhabitants and roll or draw cards to determine what happens to them, or something like that. Thanks!

THEME: Solo "Sims" Games

Hello friend, these are some games coming from a few different angles but all have the common theme of interacting with a community or a group. I couldn't find a lot that allows you to play a number of characters at once, but there are a number of games that still ask you to manage a lot of people as one person! I hope you find them useful!

The Spiritpath Hotel, by 89 Lightwatch Avenue.

You are the owner of a fine establishment called The Spiritpath Hotel. Guests have come from all over to stay. The hotel mysteriously called them here, sensing that each of them are missing something important in their lives. They don't know what it is yet, so it's up to you to figure it out.

No one believes magic exists. Your guests think they are here to enjoy a vacation, but you know better. They came because your hotel promised them happiness they can't get anywhere else. You have a special power that lets you grant one thing to each person you meet and you use it to help your guests.

Discover who your guests are, figure out something important that they need, and provide it to them in a way only you can.

You’re not necessarily embodying all of the characters in this game, but you are continuously meeting and helping new NPCs as you play. This game uses a tarot deck or a random number generator to provide you with prompts, and you’ll learn more about your guests the longer they stay. I appreciate that the designer has included a reference sheet and worksheets to help you play - and the fact that you need them points to a management system that might feel similar to the Sims.

Dino Park, by Armanda.

So, you want to be part of DINO PARK. You’ve been chosen to work with us for a season! You must be thrilled! We’re the first park that through science brought Dinosaurs back to life. And you have a chance to work with us. 

We’re counting on your qualities as a human being and as a professional to make this park your home for these eight weeks. We will train you to be an outstanding member of our team. These weeks with us are going to be a life-changing experience. 

Dino Park gives you gear to help you take care of the dinosaurs in the form of a coin and a number of polyhedral dice, so I’m assuming that most resolution in this game revolves around using your gear to help you do certain things. You’ll also have personal skills and weaknesses that look like they’ll come into play depending on how you decide to solve problems. Your character will receive calls for help throughout the park, so it looks like you’ll be interact with dinosaurs and humans alike, and the game also advertises a catastrophe track - so if things truly go south, you’ll have to hightail it out of there in the style of Jurassic Park!

This game is probably good for folks who love nature games, dinosaurs, or fighting against a slowly building disaster.

Save The Community Radio!, by Wizard of Ox.

You and your group of friends used to run a radio station, giving up your weekends and nights to make sure your local community got a fresh dose of soundwaves. The problem is that, as time passed, most of your friends stopped doing so, except for you, who are still passionately trying to keep it up and running (and failing, mostly). 

Now the local government is threatening to cut funding and shut down your station unless you can prove that you can handle it, but to do so, you have to get your friends back together. Navigate the fallout of your previous relationships with each character and convince them to help you save the radio, or live to see it be shut down.

Save the Community Radio! is a solo journaling RPG focused on building relationships with multiple characters whom you have grown apart from in order to save something you collectively spent your youth trying to build. It heavily relies on these connections and how you interpret them, with prompts and actions chosen by dices and decks, but enough leeway for you to write your characters however you want.

This game uses a deck of playing cards and some 6-side dice to help you build the world where your community radio is about to fail. You work for the radio, and you’re trying to get your friends to care about it again. However, not all of your friends feel positive about you anymore, so you might have to mend those relationships first.

The deck of cards provides prompts for different problems that show up as you play, such as broken equipment or lack of guests for broadcast. You’ll likely need different kinds of people to call on to fix these problems - and hopefully you can fix your relationships with your friends before you lose all resources entirely! If you want a game about building connections, this is your game.

Note: This game comes as a RAR file, so you’ll need to make sure you have an application on your computer that can turn it into a PDF.

Crow Island: funeral//PROCESSION, by Tenbear.

funeral // PROCESSION is a solo TTRPG introducing you to the universe of Crow Island, a sci-fi fantasy world centering Indigenous people and People of Colour. Following the destruction of your village by a Corrupt Spirit you and Members of the Moon Clan will transport the body of your Chief through the wilderness of the Porcupine Nation to the City of Seven Nations for proper burial.

This is a survival game, where you play as a clan but it doesn’t seem necessary to name each clan’s members. You will have to survive against loss of equipment, predators, and depleting supplies. The game uses a deck of playing cards as sort of a prompt generator, providing you with either obstacles or resources as you make your way to the City of Seven Nations.

The reviews of this game compare it to a Choose Your Own Adventure kind of game, so if that sounds interesting, you might want to check this game out.

Nature/Town/Farm/Villagers, by Cardboard Hyperfix.

You are a farmer who just moved into town. You had family that lived here a while ago, but not anymore. The town has seen better days, and you are here to help.

This is meant to be both a farming simulator and a community simulator. Inspired by Harvest Moon, you are a farmer who just moved to town, and are responsible for both making your farm flourish and helping your neighbours solve their problems.

The game follows a calendar of four months, one month for each season. The majority of your play revolves around picking focuses and figuring out both what the problems of each focus is, and then work to wards solving them. Each day you roll 2d6 and use their results to help you solve problems.

If you want a game that you can choose to play over an extended period of time, or if you really enjoy Harvest Moon, you might want to check out this game.

Apawthecaria: A Poultice Pounder Adventure, by BlackwellWriter.

Apawthecaria is a blend of Apothecaria and Scurry! Go on a potion-making, road-tripping, friend-making adventure.

Apothecaria is a solo potion-making game about taking care of unfortunate villagers. Scurry is a game about tiny creatures adventuring through Scotland’s underbrush. Apawthecaria combines the two that brings your little poultice-maker through the same world as Scurry, helping little creatures with their injuries and ailments.

This game is absolutely adorable, and I like the fact that you can recruit a Familiar and a number of Companion bugs on your journeys. I’m assuming that along with meeting a number of patients on your travels, you’ll be using many of the potion-making and foraging rules of Apothecaria. There’s a lot of management involved - you’ll be tracking your reputation, upgrading equipment, and bartering for ingredients (aka reagents) as you travel.

If you like a game with enchanting art and plenty setting already established for you to explore, this might be a game for you.

Scavengers, by Gasini.

Scavengers is a solo hexcrawling adventure game set in a post-apocalyptic fantasy world. You play as a crew of foolhardy goblins struggling to pilot an ancient vehicle known as The Gas Horse. Your crew's goal is to scour the wastes for salvage to expand the goblin homestead. 

Your goblins have an eclectic set of skills that will change how each run goes. Be wary, for there is a hunter out in the wastes seeking to end your adventure!

I think this game might meet your requirements because you are playing a crew of goblins, rather than a single character, and because you have something to manage - namely, the Gas Horse. You’re also responsible for a Homestead, where there might even be more goblins waiting for you. The game comes with a Hexflower map for you to explore, and it all looks to fit on a single brochure, so I think this is better for a limited play session rather than extended play.

Nomads of the Isles, by Nik Mirza.

The fate of your clan rests on your shoulders. Will you be able to lead them to prosperity or will your journey end in defeat?

Your clan are on a quest to establish settlements in a new and unknown land. You must lead your people through various terrains such as mountains, deserts, and forests while managing facing unforeseen danger. Your goal is to establish a settlement or more by the end of your reign.

This is a brochure game guided by Firelights, a solo RPG that is great for metroidvania types of games. Roll on a d66 table to determine what kinds of regions you’ll travel through, and draw cards from the Story Deck to determine the difficulty of each action.

While the game is meant to track a journey from one land to another, the actual details of the story are up to you. The cards from the deck provide you with a value that you’ll have to beat, but the detail of each problem is pretty vague: you’ll recieve prompts such as “Reunion”, “Ceremony”, or “Betrayal”. You’ll have to decide what those words mean, and how much detail you want to include. If you want a game that makes it fairly easy to track progress towards a definable goal, this is your game.

DELVE, by BlackwellWriter.

DELVE: A Solo Map Drawing Game is a map drawing game that puts you in control of a dwarven hold as you discover the horrors that lurk below. This 44 page zine has everything you need to generate natural formations, forgotten ruins, enemies, wyrd magics, and ancient monstrosities. It has a simple turn-based combat system, rules for building your hold and optional challenges for a harder experience.

If you like Dwarf Fortress, this is the game for you! Recruit military units, devise traps and track combat. Use cards from a deck to track resources and explore the map, and a d4 or a coin to help you resolve certain problems. This is as much a resource management game as it is a dungeon delving game, with plenty of tables for Magic, Adventurers, Inventions and more. If you like filling out a map and tracking a lot of things at once, this might be the game for you.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #solo games #sims games