#pureblood wealth

[slytherinslut0]

Why Not Both.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Reader x Theodore Nott

INFO: Lucius Malfoy, fueled by disdain for your family's wealth and competitive Pureblood status, makes an unwanted advance at a public event. Fortunately, two old friends from your Hogwarts days come to your rescue, and grateful for their intervention, you seek a meaningful way to express your thanks.

TAGS: 18+, THREESOME. complete filth. slight sexual aggression/unwanted touching, violence, an ungodly amount of flirting, SMUT, fingering, hickeys, drug use, mentions of blood, throat fucking, oral(mrec), piv, degradation kink, praise kink, italian!theo.

"Please, for the love of all things magical, conduct yourself appropriately tonight, figlia."

Hidden behind the obscurity of your tinted black sunglasses, you executed an eye roll so pronounced you half-expected your eyes to vanish into the depths of your skull. The subtle percussion of your tongue against the back of your teeth preceded the moment as you composed yourself enough to deliver a response.

"I already told you," you retorted, curtly. "I'll play nice if he does."

Your father reciprocated the eye roll, reclining back against the supple leather of the limousine seat with an irritated huff. His gaze lingered on you, a silent calculation etched across his face, contemplating what tempting offer might sway you into comportment. He knew that you were not going to make it out of this gathering alive if you let your attitude get the best of you.

"What's the price tag this time, hm?" He tutted, fingers deftly adjusting his tie while sharing an anxious glance with your mother, perched nervously beside him. "A new purse? Some shoes, perhaps? Or are we gunning for another car?"

Suppressing a smirk, you lowered your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, casting a pointed gaze over their rim at him.

"Are you seriously resorting to bribery, padre?" The feigned disbelief laced your voice, but your mother's glare sliced through it like a knife--a silent command to hush, one you chose to disregard. Adjusting your glasses, you exhaled a theatrically exasperated sigh. "Your lack of faith in me is genuinely disheartening. I assure you nothing but the epitome of professionalism from me tonight."

"Stronzate," (bullshit) your father snapped back, his eyes smouldering with a frustration intense enough to sear through your facade, clearly fed up with your antics. "Last time you peddled that line, you ended up with Lucius Malfoy's hand around your throat during what was supposed to be an informal business dinner."

You scoffed, a smirk playing on your lips before you could restrain it. "Not my fault that lunatic can't handle the damn truth. Would you prefer I let him take advantage of you? Step on you like a fucking cockroach?"

"Listen to me," he shifted to the edge of the limousine seat, his elbows finding a perch on his knees, hands firmly clasped together. Leaning forward, his gaze locked onto yours, his serious demeanor demanding your full focus. "Just because we have money doesn't mean I will bail you out if you happen to land yourself behind bars tonight. Do not fuck with the Malfoy's, figlia, I mean it."

"You sound afraid of him," you fired back, your expression a stoic mask, unruffled. "I wonder how your esteemed associates would feel about that...one of the wealthiest Pureblood wizards...intimidated by a bleached blonde-"

"Enough," he exhaled, weariness tainting his tone as he implored, "For Merlin's sake, behave your age for once--just tell me what you want."

Pouring a measured amount of champagne, he lifted the glass to his lips, the subtle clink echoing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance in his gaze. You huffed, reaching into your purse and retrieving your lip gloss and flip-open mirror. As you leisurely applied it, your thoughts raced, contemplating what might rein you in.

"I want him to stop mentally undressing me in front of his wife," you declared bluntly. "It's just plain rude."

Tossing your lipgloss and mirror back into your purse, a ripple of annoyance traversed your father's features, his countenance ready to unleash a torrent of reprimands in Italian, ones you'd heard a countless number of times before. It didn't take much to get under your father's skin.

However, before the first word could escape, your mother intervened with a firm, "Cut that out, figlia--just answer the bloody question."

Her intervention carried the weight of both authority and exasperation, effectively halting the imminent linguistic storm your father was about to unleash. With another dramatic eye roll and a matching huff of irritation, you straightened out against the leather, flattening the fabric of your tight black dress out against your thighs.

"Fine," you ground out through clenched teeth. With your chin defiantly raised, your gaze flicked back and forth between your parents. "Bags. A new Fendi, a replacement for the Christian I lost, and another Prada."

Your father grumbled something discontented in Italian, the disappointment clearly etched across his features as he parted his lips to respond; his brows pinched so tight it looked painful--until your mother swiftly raised a calming hand, quelling the potential storm.

Turning her eyes to you, she wore a wry smile and declared, "Deal."

A devilish smirk played across your lips as you nodded in agreement, satisfaction colouring your calculated arrangements. Handbags were hardly a necessity, considering you already owned more than you knew what to do with--but, if your father was determined to buy your silence, to keep you from retaliating against the biggest assholes in the entire wizarding world, one of whom was intent on tearing down your family's name out of sheer jealousy--then the price wasn't going to come cheap.

As the limo glided to a stop outside the opulent venue, you composed yourself, aware that tonight meant facing a sea of influential figures. Pureblood wizards--from the Nott family to the Riddles, the Malfoys, and the Berkshires--were all gathered at this prestigious ball, amongst many others. You knew tonight carried immense importance for your family, and you harboured every intention of keeping your opinions in check, and keeping your mouth shut.

But you couldn't say the same about your legs.

Stepping gracefully from the limousine, the resonance of your red stilettos hitting the cobblestones beneath them echoed in sophistication. A subtle adjustment of your dress against your thighs preceded your purposeful stride toward the entrance. Cameras relentlessly flashed from all angles, rendering the protective shield of your sunglasses almost futile against their blinding onslaught.

Squinting, you ascended the velvet stairs, only to feel a sizable hand rest on the small of your back, accompanied by a honey-like drawl in your ear.

"Easy there, Bella...we wouldn't want that perfect ass meeting the cobbles, now would we?"

You scoffed, your smirk undeniable. Turning your head, you caught a glimpse of the charming Italian boy you hadn't seen since graduation. The desire to fling yourself into his arms simmered within, yet you reserved such greetings for the more private confines indoors.

"Gods, how I've missed that sexy voice of yours," you teased, a pleasant warmth enveloping you at the sight of him. Clad in a crisp black suit, his hair styled to perfection with light stubble grooming him nicely--he looked even better than your memory served. "Remind me to grant you a proper kiss once we're inside."

"Missed more than just the voice, I hope," he quipped, a smug grin playing on his lips. Adjusting his suit jacket with a casual flair, he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. "Inside or outside, Bella, I'm not one to decline such tempting offers."

"Believe me, I'm keenly aware," you retorted, a sly grin playing on your lips. "You never were good at resisting temptation."

"Can't resist the irresistible, principessa,"  he replied, his tone laden with a provocative confidence. "I'd take your ass right here if you asked."

"Aren't you as bold as ever," you quipped, a grin playing on your lips as you finally reached the grand double doors. Theo's hand reluctantly left your back as he positioned himself behind you, gently ushering you forward. "Perhaps you could at least buy me a drink first?"

He huffed. "Anything you want--it's yours, angioletta."

Theodore graced your ass with a subtle smack as the two of you glided into the grand ballroom, its excessive expanse pulsating with the energy of wizards and witches converging from every corner of the globe. The occasion? A celebration for the new Minister of Magic--a matter that scarcely held your interest. The real allure? A night to revel in intoxication and reconnect with the charming Slytherin boys you'd wanted to see since graduation.

And here you were, the night only just unfolding, already engaged in a provocative exchange with one of the men you'd been yearning for. His hand rested tantalizingly low on your back, skillfully guiding you through the bustling crowd.

You drew nearer to Theodore as the two of you continued weaving through the crowd, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "My parents gave me strict orders to steer clear of the Malfoys tonight, specifically Lucius."

"Huh, can't say I'm shocked," Theo chuckled, his grin stretching across his cheeks. "After that little incident at the meeting, I'm surprised they're letting you share the same room with him."

"So you heard about that." A flush warmed your face as you peeked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. "Was I really that terrible?"

He cast you a sidelong glance, his eyes twinkling. "Let's just say, your mouth has a reputation for getting you into quite a bit of trouble."

"Maybe," you quipped, your gaze confidently drifting towards the bar across the room. "Then again, it's also been known for getting me out of a fair bit of trouble."

Theo slipped behind you as you navigated through a cluster of witches, their dazzling diamond necklaces almost blinding, even through your shades.

"Mm, I wouldn't doubt it," he husked, the audible smirk in his voice. "That mouth of yours has its own set of skills, Bella...some men just can't handle it."

"Well, lucky for me, I prefer those who can handle a little challenge," you purred, turning to shoot him a sultry glance over your shoulder. "I intend on staying far, far away from him tonight."

"As much as I want to take your word for that..." he replied with a sly grin, cocking an eyebrow. "We both know how you are."

As the two of you finally reached the bar, a dazzling array of diamond bottles adorned the shelves against the wall. The counter, a masterpiece of ornate gold foiling on a white marbled surface, beckoned with an air of opulence. Theodore leaned over it, flashing a cheeky grin at the bartender.

"Two glasses of Dom Pérignon champagne," he requested smoothly, the words gliding off his tongue like silk, "per favore e grazie."

"Dom Pérignon?" Your jaw fell open, and you drew your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose to look at him. That champagne was over three hundred dollars a fucking glass. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you, or fall in love with you?"

He choked, snorting at your bluntness. "Why not both?”

Your grin was untameable as Theo's laughter resonated through the bustling room. Collecting himself, he accepted the glasses from the bartender, presenting one to you with a deviously charming grin. His eyes sparkled with desire as they traced the curve of your lips, before falling to observe the way your red-manicured nails delicately wrapped around the crystal glass.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he met your gaze again, his smirk growing wider. "Not to burst my own bubble or anything...but if it weren't for my parents picking up the tab, we'd be toasting with sparkling cider."

A soft laugh escaped you at his cheeky admission, and you raised your glass to meet his with a playful clink. "To your parents' tab."

As you toasted, you couldn't help but savour the familiar charm that had always intrigued you about him. Despite the magnetic connection and your undeniable attraction, the boundary between friendship and something more had remained uncharted territory throughout your school years.

You had every single intention of changing that, tonight. 

As the liquid elegance glided down your throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth steeped in opulence, you held Theo's gaze as you lowered your glass, acutely aware that his eyes had yet to stray from yours. Taking a measured step closer, you tilted your head back slightly, maintaining the captivating connection as you closed the distance between your bodies.

"I believe there's still something I owe you, hm?" you purred, your voice a sultry whisper. "And perhaps...given the circumstances," you gestured to the expensive champagne in your hand, moistening your lips, "I might now owe you more."

Theo's response was a low, husky chuckle as his free hand found its place on your hip. His fingers pressed into your side with a possessive grip, while the hand clutching the glass tightened, threatening to shatter within his fingers.

Spurred on, you continued. "Unless, of course, we consider it a mere indulgence on your parents' generous tab...either way-"

"Oh no, no," he interrupted with a knowing tut, his gaze piercing through half-lidded eyes. "My parents appreciate repayment just as much as I do...consider me their collector."

"Mm," you breathed, red fingernails on your free hand trailing up his chest. "I suppose I better get to work, then, hm?"

His response was a low huff, a smouldering spark in his eyes. "Dio mi aiuti..."

A smirk played on your lips, a rush of heat colouring your face as his teasing plea to God sent a surge of desire through your thighs. Gliding your fingers higher up his chest, you seized his tie, drawing his mouth down to yours in a deliberate, unhurried kiss. With no sense of urgency, you explored his mouth, savouring the moment for all it was worth.

Until, abruptly, a curt voice sliced through the charged air, instantly extinguishing the flames that had been blazing between you and Theo. The sound made you want to vomit near instantly, the feigned niceness in its tone grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You knew there was only one fucking man a voice that sickening could ever belong to.

"Well, isn't that just adorable...young love in all its glory," he sneered, and as you and Theo reluctantly pulled away from each other, you released your grip on his tie, taking a measured step back. "...never thought you'd be able to find someone who would put up with that attitude of yours...colour me shocked. "

As your gaze met the tall, arrogant blonde man peering down at you, you bit your tongue hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood. His eye twitched as he shamelessly scanned your body, tracing over every curve and inch of body that his evil gaze could find. You were grateful for your sunglasses now more than ever, as they perfectly concealed the intense eye roll you were directing at him.

And then, just as you were poised to respond, you caught sight of his son, Draco Malfoy, and his nephew, Mattheo Riddle, two more of your old housemates. Draco, accompanied by his wife, Astoria Greengrass, sauntered up beside his father. Each of their eyes widening in disbelief at the unexpected sight of you.

As Mattheo Riddle approached, clad in a crisp black suit and tie, his curly brown hair framing gleaming dark eyes and a strong jawline, your body ignited once more. The charm he exuded brought forth a desire you had worked extremely fucking hard to suppress during your school days, now resurfacing with an intensity that left you breathless.

"Holy shit," Mattheo breathed, moistening his lips as his dark eyes roamed over you from head to toe. He pulled you in for a hug, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making your head spin without effort. Against your neck, he muttered. "Now that's a fucking sight for sore eyes."

Heat flooded your veins, spurred on by the sight of him and his compliment. You let your hand rub tender circles into his back, feeling the taut muscle tense beneath your touch.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Riddle," you purred against his ear, your grin impossible to conceal, the warmth of his embrace intensifying the heat that flooded your veins. "I see your charm hasn't lost its touch...surprised you're not locked down yet."

"Never been more glad that I'm not," his hand slid lower, finding the small of your back, calloused palms catching on the fabric. "You're leaving very little to the imagination, wearing this..."

"Little something to fuel those late-night thoughts," you murmured, your voice a sensual drawl, heat rolling off your tongue, overflowing your veins. "Better enjoy the view while you can."

"Mm," his hand found your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze. "Don't doubt that I will."

As Mattheo finally pulled away, stepping over toward Theo and embracing him in a bro-hug, Lucius peered down at him in disgust. The atmosphere was filled with the low hum of conversation as Theo, Draco, and Astoria were deep in discussion.

Lucius was busy rambling on to Theodore's father, who had now also joined the group, seemingly oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface--but then abruptly shifted his attention to his nephew.

A wry huff of arrogance escaped him. "Do you possess any self-control?"

"Some, on a typical day," Mattheo replied, undisturbed, and with his gaze drifting back to you, he smirked. "Currently, almost none.”

"Right." Lucius' voice was flat, devoid of any emotion as he turned back to you. "Where are your parents? I've been needing to discuss some things with your father."

"They're around," you replied flatly, taking another sip of champagne, determined to deflect his probing. "I'm sure you'll run into them eventually; no one would ever dare ignore you, Lucius."

"A compliment from you? How peculiar." Lucius tilted his head slightly, a malicious glint in his eyes. "Similar to your father's recent behaviour...I must say he has been raising a few eyebrows lately."

"And how is that any concern of mine?" you retorted, your tone laced with partially-restrained irritation. "I don't keep tabs on my father's every move. Perhaps you should address him directly with your concerns."

"Perhaps." He smirked, his gaze lingering on you as he stepped closer--Theo, Mattheo, Astoria and Draco lost in their own conversation now. "But I believe you're easier to talk to, more...amenable."

Your eyes narrowed at his implication, but you maintained a stoic exterior. "I have no interest in entertaining conversation with you."

As he closed the distance, his gaze briefly shifted to the boys beside you, ensuring they were sufficiently distracted before refocusing on you.

"You should," he murmured, an insidious charm lacing his words. "You should want to hear what I have to say."

"Your arrogance is outstanding." Through gritted teeth, you practically snarled at him, "Get to the point."

"Your father has been dabbling in rather dubious dealings of late. It reflects poorly on me and those associated with him." Lucius leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur filled with calculated venom. "If something doesn't change, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."

"I try my best to stay out of my father's business," your pulse quickened, a surge of anger coursing through your veins, the air around you growing tenser with each passing second. "But, if I'm being honest, Lucius, I don't appreciate the way you're running your mouth. My parents-"

"Ah, ah," he raised a hand, silencing you. "You'd do well to remember your place, little witch." Lucius's eyes glinted with a sadistic satisfaction, and a smirk played on his lips. "Though I do suggest you start caring about your father's affairs; it might save you from the consequences of his foolish actions."

"I never asked for your advice," you hissed, the thread of restraint in your voice now frayed. "But if we're trading favours, I suggest you leave me the fuck alone before this gets ugly."

Lucius eradicated the remaining space between you, his imposing presence sending a shiver down your spine, the strong scent of whiskey enveloping you. Your gaze remained locked with his, refusing to yield, but as he leaned in, your body tensed. His lips brushed your ear, and you swallowed, fighting the discomfort.

"Women shouldn't curse, little witch, it isn't very ladylike..." he sneered, his voice dripping with vindictive amusement, the words crawling over your skin. "Perhaps your parents failed to teach you that? Amongst other things, it seems..."

You fought the urge to retch. "Get fucked, Lucius."

He huffed, his touch ghosting your hip as he muttered, "I just might."

The moment you felt his fingers graze your body, your hand rose instinctively, before you even had a chance to process it--delivering a swift slap to his cheek, making his head whip to the side, blonde locks flinging upon impact. A moment of tense silence hung in the air as you watched the anger seep into his features, witnessing his eyes darken with fury. Mimicking a move he'd pulled on you before, he seized your jaw, forcing your back against the edge of the bar.

But then, before he could utter a word, the scene unfolded like a rapid, chaotic dance. Strong hands forcefully grappled his shoulders, ripping him away from you within an instant.

"Keep your fucking hands off of her." It was Theodore's voice. Followed instantly by Mattheo's. "The fuck is wrong with you."

In the blink of an eye, Theodore was in action, hooking his arms around Lucius to restrain him, while Mattheo, fueled by raw anger, threw a powerful punch that landed square on Lucius' jaw. The room buzzed with gasps and whispers, the unexpected altercation taking center stage in the glamorous event.

Your stomach fell dramatically. There goes the handbags you'd bargained for.

As Lucius seethed with fury, he forcibly pulled himself out of Theodore's grasp, retaliating by landing a punch on his nephew. The impact split the skin over the bridge of Mattheo's nose, but undeterred, Mattheo swiftly retaliated with another punch, forcing Draco to step in and restrain him.

Sensing the escalating tension, you rushed forward, attempting to break up the skirmish. However, Draco hissed at you, his arm darting out to halt you, eyes narrowing in warning, "Just get out of here. You've done enough damage."

"Are you kidding me?" you snapped back, the clink of your glass punctuating your frustration as you discarded it on the bar. "You've always been a sickening little daddy's boy--wake the fuck up, Draco. Your father is an absolute asshole."

Before Draco could respond, the voices of your parents, entwined with Mattheo and Theodore's parents, resonated through the room, silencing and halting every single one of your collective movements. Your father unleashed a barrage of reprimands in Italian, while your mother shook her head in utter disappointment. She gripped your arm with enough force to make you groan.

Her words were no less than a snarl in your ear. "You had one fucking job tonight. One."

"I didn't do anything--he started it," your heart pounded, vision tinged with red as you spat back, uninterested in the ridicule. "He fucking touched me."

Lucius, now somewhat composed, turned to the security guards standing amidst the commotion and pointed decisively at you, Theodore, and Mattheo, his stern tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I want them removed. Immediately."

Your mother's grip on your arm loosened, her voice now softer as she said, "We'll talk about this later."

The security guards seized you, Mattheo, and Theodore by the arms, forcefully guiding you away from the group. Under the intense scrutiny of Lucius' gaze, you were pushed through the concealed back exit, leading to a row of valet cars waiting in the shadows. The door slammed shut behind you, leaving the chilly night air to greet you as the security guards swiftly retreated back into the vibrant chaos of the celebration, leaving you, Mattheo, and Theodore standing alone in the dimly lit alley.

Without missing a beat, Mattheo smoothly extracted a small container from his pocket, revealing a blunt that he quickly found a comfortable spot for between his teeth.

An irritated huff escaped you as you yanked off your sunglasses, shoving them into your purse. "What an insufferable prick."

The night air became tinged with the scent of both smoke and potent weed as Mattheo exhaled, Theodore hastily loosening his tie around his neck as Mattheo passed him the herbal offering.

"He's got his eyes set on you," Mattheo stated matter-of-factly, the words casually hanging in the air as if discussing the weather. "Not exactly discreet about it either, especially when his wife's not around."

As Theodore passed the blunt to you, you took a long, slow drag--the bitter taste of the weed lingering on your tongue as you mulled over Mattheo's words.

"He’s just looking for another thing to hang over my father's head." A sardonic smirk curled your lips, and you passed the weed back to Theo. "I'm not interested in anything he has to offer...there’s nothing he can give me that I can’t get myself.”

Theo smirked, the dim light casting shadows across his features as he took another drag of the blunt.

“I'll have to admit, it was quite the sight watching you slap Lucius bloody Malfoy..." he purred, smoke twirling around him as he paused, passing it back to Mattheo now. "Not many would dare."

“Well, he had it coming,” you chuckled, the tension of the evening dissipating slightly. “...I'm not one to back down."

"Oh, we know." Mattheo laughed, smoke escaping between his lips, wiping the blood off his chin with the back of his hand. "Your bad ass is always stirring up trouble, don't think that'll ever change."

You smirked, the corner of your lips curling with a hint of mischief. "What's life without a little trouble, hm?"

Theo chuckled, practically a scoff. “A little?"

"Please," you teasingly nipped at your bottom lip, head tilting in a seductive manner. "You know you love it."

Stepping closer to them, you sensually reached out, your fingers making deliberate contact with the fabric of their suit jackets, covering the strength of their strong arms. Moving slowly and deliberately, your touch trailed upward, both of their eyes locked onto every nuanced movement, captivated by your enticing grace.

"I believe I owe you both a special thanks for coming to my defense back there...my heroes." Your voice dipped lower, a sultry edge creeping in as you trailed your fingers upward, grazing their shoulders. "How could I ever repay you for such...courageous acts..."

"Sexy little damsel in distress…" Mattheo smirked, the blunt dangling from his lips as he leaned in, eyes dipping over your lips before falling lower, tracing your curves. "I can think of a few ways you could show your appreciation.”

Theo's grin mirrored Mattheo's as he added, "I think we'll have to discuss those options somewhere more private...back at my place, perhaps?"

"Mm," your stomach leapt with excitement, your stomach tightening in anticipation, you slowly withdrew your hands, stepping back. "Lead the way, boys."

Without needing to hear another word, Mattheo and Theo exchanged a knowing glance before they began to move toward the valeted cars, Mattheo's eyes scanning the line until they landed on a sparkling blacked-out Range Rover. Discarding the blunt with a casual flick, he turned back to you, a smirk playing on his lips.

The night air shimmered around Mattheo's dark pools as he confidently asserted, "We can take my car."

A casual wave set the valet into motion, retrieving his vehicle for him within an instant. The driver expertly guided the sleek black Range Rover to the forefront, its glossy paint reflecting the ambient lights. Mattheo opened the back door with a flourish, gracefully sliding in and making himself comfortable on the far side. A sly grin danced on his lips as he gestured for you to join him.

"After you," Theo's purr accompanied a playful smack to your ass, forcing a slight squeak from your throat, and you tsked at him before obliging.

As you settled into the lavish embrace of the Range Rover's spacious backseat, Theodore smoothly slipped in next to you, closing the door behind him. The interior exuded opulence, the cold leather meeting the warmth of your thighs. Mattheo leaned forward, parting the partition to share Theodore's address with the driver, his cologne enveloping you in an intoxicating embrace.

The air crackled with anticipation as he ended the conversation and slid the partition shut, reclining back against the seat with a provocative spread of his legs. Loosening his tie, he extracted a small bag from his pocket, revealing a white powdery substance within its confines.

"Fuck sakes," he grumbled, catching Theodore's attention. You both met his eyes. "Any chance you've got a mirror in that purse?"

"Who needs one when you've got her?" Theo huffed, snaking an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. His lips hovered over your ear, and he added, "She's got more than enough to work with, hm?"

As Theo's lips brushed your earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't ignore the electrifying sensation that danced across your skin. Mattheo's intense gaze fixed on you, adding to the palpable tension in the air as he waited, seemingly holding his breath for your response.

"Mm." Your voice came in a breathless, shuddering whisper, "go on then, Riddle."

Mattheo's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint as he inched closer. Unhesitatingly, he tapped a sprinkle of white powder delicately above the neckline of your dress, right on the edge of your chest. Theodore pulled you even closer against him as Mattheo leaned in, his head lowering to quickly sniff up the line of powder. A cascade of goosebumps erupted across your skin, and your back instinctively arched.

After he'd finished, lingering tingles traced along your skin, intensifying by the millions as Mattheo sensually licked up the remaining powder. His tongue danced against your skin, brushing the delicate tops of your breasts, provoking a series of deeper breaths from your lungs. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, all while Theodore chuckled softly into your ear.

Mattheo pulled up, his lips dangerously close to yours as he whispered. "You want some?"

When you shook your head, Mattheo shrugged, moving to pour more onto your chest--your heart racing as you watched him, eyes dark, jaw tensed. On instinct, you tugged your dress down a bit further, offering him better access. Arching your back into him, your breasts spilled out as you tugged the fabric a little too far, now nearly entirely revealed, nipples just barely covered by the black fabric. At the sight, Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, jaw falling open.

"Fuck me," he murmured, his hand instinctively coming up to grope the one not covered in cocaine.

Theodore groaned against your ear, watching the entire show with just as much exasperation as Mattheo. His hold on your waist tightened, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as through he was trying to tear it apart within his grasp.

"That's what you've been keeping from us...." Theo's voice rumbled with dark lust, the words almost tangible in the air as his lips grazed your skin. "…for all these fucking years."

The tender caress of Theo's lips on your neck elicited a soft whimper, matched by Mattheo burying his face in your chest, sniffing up the rest of the drugs, his fingers tightening their grip on your breast, kneading it with a primal urgency. Theo's initial gentle kisses on your neck evolved into hungry bites and passionate flicks of his tongue, sucking vibrant welts into your skin.

Your body wrestled with conflicting waves of sensation, not knowing which to focus on first--blood pooled beneath Theo's teeth as he broke the vessels and marked you violet, inspiring an electrifying surge between your legs, growing more desperate with each passing second. Each touch and graze intensified the sensitivity of your skin, leaving your mouth slightly agape, head tilted back, giving both men easier access.

Mattheo groaned into your chest, a primal sound echoing desire. His rough hands moved lower, finding the hem of your dress and sliding beneath it with urgency, hiking the fabric higher up along your thighs. Your legs willingly surrendered, drawn onto his lap as he pulled them there. His nails dug into your skin as he shifted his mouth higher up your neck, capturing the side opposite Theo, working his teeth along your pulse as he too began marking your skin, sucking purple possession marks to life.

A low, sensual moan escaped your parted lips, a delicious shudder rippling through your spine. As Theo pulled his lips from your skin, you turned your head toward him, drawn by an irresistible force. The moment your eyes locked, an electric charge sparked between you, and in an instant, his lips claimed yours--a blend of sweet champagne, the faint taste of cigarettes, and the lingering hint of weed creating an intoxicating mixture, dizzying your head even more than it already was.

Mattheo's grip tightened around your thigh, a deep, primal groan escaping him, reverberating against your neck. You gasped against Theo's mouth, your fingers moving to find Mattheo's big hand, squeezing him tightly, conveying a silent, unspoken urgency--inviting him to go higher.

Taking the invitation, Mattheo's fingers crawled upwards, pushing your dress further up your thighs until your thong was nearly visible. Theo's hands left your waist, curling around your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breasts and tightening his hold on them; palming and groping and squeezing as much of the supple flesh as he could.

As you whimpered into his mouth, he groaned in response, bucking his hips against you as his long fingers worked to tug them free, exposing your entire chest to the thick, heated air within the Rover.

"Fucking hell." Mattheo muttered, instantly stalling his movements, his plush lips glistening with saliva as his eyes hungrily took in everything you'd just exposed to him. "Now this is fuel for my late night thoughts..."

Lowering his face to your chest again, taking one of your nipples in his mouth without hesitation while Theo gently rolled the other one between his fingers, their collective movements causing you to whimper and squirm against them, eyes rolling back as they each panted against you; lips and hands and teeth claiming as much of your body as they could.

Mattheo's palm slipped higher, grazing your heat over the fabric of your panties, the pads of his first two fingers catching your clit through the thin layer--immediately causing your hips to buck toward his touch as he swirled his warm tongue around your nipple, sealing his lips around it, teeth giving it a gentle tug before he released it with a wet pop.

You moaned, entire body shuddering with need as Theo's teeth tugged on your bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, his mouth moved to press hot, moist kisses against your cheek before falling to your jawline and softly nipping at the ridge. You met Mattheo's gaze, his face flushed with lust, his eyes drilling into yours as he teased you, rough fingers ghosting over your slit, catching on the hem of your panties, watching every single subtle ministration of your face as he did.

"Please," you whispered, the desperation in your voice palpable. "Stop teasing me, Riddle."

"Eager little slut..." Mattheo huffed, amused, and you could feel Theo smirk against your skin, each of their grips hardening to iron. "Look at you...spoiled little rich girl--fuck...you need to be finger fucked in the back of my fucking Range, don't you?"

A guttural groan escaped you, your head falling back against Theo's shoulder. He huffed in your ear, and there was a shared satisfaction between the two of them as they reveled in the newfound ways they had you wrapped around their fingers, surrendering to them in ways you had never dreamed of before.

Mattheo exhaled, a visible effort to rein in his self-control, brushing his thumb against your clit, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw, redirecting your eyes back to his.

"You wanna make a mess all over my expensive fucking leather, huh?" His voice was torn, shredded, a snarl past his teeth. "Tell me."

Theo's hand inched lower, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, and you nodded, swallowing the knot of lust clogging your throat. "Yes-fuck-I do-please."

"Say it," he muttered, voice low, leaning closer to you as he brushed your clit again, sending a burst of electricity through your veins. "I want to hear you fucking beg for me."

Theo's hand found your thighs, slipping between them and pulling them further apart, his heavy breathing washing over your ear.

"Mattheo, fuck-please," you grumbled through a heavy breath, lungs hitching as he teased the band of your thong, slipping under and trailing down to your mound, pausing there. "Please stop being insufferable."

"Oh, Bella...wrong fucking answer..." Theo chuckled, nails biting into your thigh. "Try again."

You groaned, attempting to inch your pelvis forward, attempting to coax his hand further, but Mattheo was unyielding, instead choosing to shift his hold on your face, forcing your jaw apart with your thumb.

"Did you forget that we saved your pretty little ass back there, hm?" His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, his dark eyes taunting you, revelling in your vulnerability. "Drop the fucking attitude or I'll do it for you."

You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head back, forcing the back of your skull to rest against Theo's shoulder. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, quickly shifting his hand to your neck.

"Tell me you need it." He commanded, tightening his grip, partially obscuring your airway. "Tell me how bad you fucking want it."

"Please," you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. "I need it so bad, I need you to make me fucking cum-fuck-please..."

"Look at that...much better bambina..." Theo murmured against your ear, his warm breath inspiring a rush of heat to your cunt. "Who knew the spoiled little rich girl could beg."

You rolled your eyes, and Mattheo caught it, returning his thumb to your mouth while simultaneously rewarding your obedience. The pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body, your lids fluttering in relief. Your hands shifted, one clutching Theo's thigh and the other wrapping around Mattheo's shoulder, thrusting into his hair as Theo pulled your thighs further apart.

"Mm, you're already fucking dripping..." Mattheo growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking. "Filthy little bitch."

His words, accompanied by his movements, made you groan--and Mattheo huffed, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.

You felt Theo's fingers creep lower, tugging at the fabric of your panties before slipping under, slicking two of his slender digits in your wetness, teasing over your throbbing entrance. You mewled against Mattheo's thumb, causing him to retract it; and he shushed you with his mouth, capturing you in a slow, breathless kiss, long lashes fluttering shut as he increased the pace on your clit.

Theo's chest was rising and falling against your back as he slowly thrust two fingers into your wet cunt, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping hard around him. He growled against your ear, curling his fingers inside of you, scissoring you open as he began to pump them in and out.

"My fucking God, principessa..." Theo husked in your ear, his voice torn. "Such a tight little cunt...so fucking wet..."

As Mattheo pulled back, lips falling to attack your jawline, you were working hard to stifle your moans, spreading your legs wider, hips bucking toward their touch. Their movements were frantic and unyielding, as though they were trying to drive you toward orgasm as quickly as possible, your eyes rolling back and your chest reaching for oxygen it failed to find.

"You want to cum, don't you?" Mattheo muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, chewing on your lip hard enough to make it bleed. "Let's hear you say it, pretty little whore..."

"Please," you whispered, your voice shredded, trying your best to keep your voice down as Theo increased his pace, the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the heated silence within the Range. "Please-please-please-"

"Please, what?" Theo husked, his voice breathless, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you pleaded, eyes squeezing shut, unable to stop the tightness coiling in your core, unable to slow your impending release. "Please, please let me cum."

"Mm," their response was a collective groan, Mattheo's lips trailing back up to find yours as he murmured against your lips. "Cum for us."

Theo grunted, working a third finger into your cunt, rolling his wrist, and Mattheo increased his pace, the two of them collectively dragging you over the edge--and without being able to control it, you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around their fingers, your ears ringing and your heart pounding as the results of their overwhelming, cumulative movements wracked through you, drowning you in a sea of pleasure.

"There we go..." Theo cooed against your pulse, the deep husk of his voice rolling through your body like thunder, your orgasm wracking every nerve, every cell. "I feel that little cunt squeezing me...fuck-I need to get inside you..."

"Oh Gods...oh fuck-" you whimpered, gasping and trying to catch your breath against Mattheo's mouth as the two of them continued to run their fingers along your slit, switching places as Theo brushed his first two fingers over your clit, and Mattheo thrust two of his own into your still sensitive cunt.

Your nails dug into Theo's thigh, the other gripping Mattheo's curls with force. "Fuck-oh...I can't--Theo-Matt...Gods-"

You broke open, moans flowing from your lips like water, unable to keep yourself quiet, unable to take the onslaught of pleasure that was encompassing you. Still sensitive, you were squirming, whining, whimpering into Mattheo's mouth, and they both shushed you, cooing softly as they increased the pace on your cunt.

Mattheo's free hand kneaded your tit, muttering against your lips. "Come on, little slut...you can take it..."

"We know how much you like to be spoiled, principessa..." Theo husked, lips pressed to your ear. "Don't pretend to be shy now...

You whimpered, squirming as you fought through your overstimulation, and this only seem to spur them on as Mattheo grunted before moving back to the side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.

With another groan, he latched on to you and sucked broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into the side of your thigh, the bulge between his legs becoming more insatiable with every passing second, electrifying the already unfathomable sensations sweltering inside you.

The atmosphere in the car was quickly changing, the two of them becoming far more aggressive, far less patient. You were flying, heart hammering in your chest, every single inch of your skin buzzing and shaking with pleasure. You knew it wouldn't be long before you broke again, your body screaming and begging for more.

"Such a pretty cunt..." Mattheo purred, curling his fingers inside you, jabbing you deep, rocking his wrist in ruthless rhythm. "You like that, little slut? You like letting us make you cum like this?"

"Yes-fuck-" the response was immediate, involuntary. "I love it-I fucking love it..."

"We wanted to do this years ago, bambina..." Theo purred, his voice like a soothing melody in your ear. "All those years in Slytherin...seeing that fat ass in the common room every fucking day..."

"Complete fucking torture." Mattheo added with a groan, the strain in his voice palpable. "I'm going to fuck the life out of this tight little cunt...fucking cum for me, slut."

You whined, your thighs quaking with the onset bursts of ecstasy, Theo moving his fingers over your clit in short, rough strokes--wetness seeping from between your legs and moistening the leather beneath them.

And as much as you tried to keep it together; to not crumble so fucking quickly, the two of them were too skilled, knowing your signs too well, and began to increase their paces, thrusting you deep under the surface of bliss once more--eyes lolling back as your body shivered in wake of your second orgasm.

"That's right." Theo purred, praise lining his lips. "Good girl... così buono.”

Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had began trailing down your chin, and once you were squirming in sensitivity, they both pulled off--conveniently synchronized with the moment the vehicle's movements slowed, before finally coming to an abrupt stop. A discreet knock on the partition signaled your arrival at the destination.

As you readjusted your dress in an attempt to regain some form of decency, Theo popped open the door, gripping your hand and practically dragging you out of the car. Mattheo's palm lingered on your lower back, holding you steady and guiding you until you stood upright, each of them waiting until you'd regained some form of composure before moving. The two of them led you towards the villa, with Theo's firm grip wrapped around your wrist and Mattheo's hand planted securely on your lower back, your heels clacking off the stones with each step.

They ushered you into the opulent house, a stunning display of luxury that stole your breath. Mattheo swiftly took your purse, carelessly placing it on a polished bench by the entrance, shedding his jacket as he disappeared down a hall. Guided by Theo, you marveled at the plush furnishings and elegant decor as he led you toward the kitchen, his grip on your wrist tight enough to bruise.

The second you entered, the atmosphere shifted, the air becoming charged with anticipation as Theo's lips crashed onto yours once again, hungry and urgent and unyielding. He shoved your back against the marble counter, his hands gripping bunches of your dress and tugging it up your thighs, stomach, chest, before urging you to raise your hands--tugging it off and tossing it to the floor beside you.

His eyes widened, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in your exposed figure, inch by inch. "Oh mio Dio..."

A mischievous smirk played on your lips as you took hold of his tie, pulling him closer. Your lips collided passionately, and with a sense of urgency, your fingers worked swiftly to strip off his suit jacket and move toward his belt. The desire for release consumed you; you needed him now.

"Fuck, you're so hard..." you murmured against his lips as you'd undid the clasp and grazed your fingers over his throbbing length, wasting no time before tugging his pants down, revealing his black briefs. "Does this make us even?"

"Not quite, but it's a good start," he groaned, his words a breath past his teeth. "You one time inside that little pussy can settle a fucking three-hundred dollar debt?"

You huffed, biting back your smirk. "Only one way to find out."

In a swift, intense motion, Theo seized your hips, spinning you around and forcefully pushing you against the cool kitchen counter. Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, hard cock grinding against your ass as his hands deftly hooked around the band of your panties, smoothly sliding them down your trembling thighs.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor, he groaned, knocking your legs further apart with his knee. His rough palm caressed the curve of your ass, before following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pleasured pain rang out over your skin.

Instinctively, you clenched, and from the border of your vision you noticed movement--Mattheo joining back in from where ever the fuck he'd ran off to, his tie removed and the first of his buttons undone.

Bringing himself to the side of the counter opposite you, his eyes traced your form, bent over, breasts pressed against the cool marble, Theodore looming behind you as he began to tug down his boxers, his thick length springing free in relief; tip glistening. The part of the counter you were bent over was not very wide, giving Mattheo the perfect position to loom in front of you, entangling his hands in your hair as he leant down, softly pressing his lips to yours.

"You want this, puttana?" Theodore cooed, teasing your cunt with false thrusts as he slicked himself along your slit, palm caressing the burning flesh of your ass. Before you could even think to respond, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered into Mattheo's mouth. "You want to take this cock like a good little slut?"

Mattheo pulled back, allowing you the ability to speak--his dark eyes boring into yours as he murmured. "Answer him."

You swallowed, yelping as Theo whacked you again. "Yes! I want to..."

"What to, what?" Mattheo purred, the sadistic nature of his voice drawing heat from your veins. One free hand shifting to palm his crotch.

“I want to take your cock..." you groaned, and Mattheo cocked an eyebrow, a silent gesture telling you to finish the sentence. "...like a good little slut."

"There we go..." Mattheo murmured, leaning in to kiss you again. "Such a good girl."

"Mm-so fucking wet," Theo groaned, teasing you with the head of his cock. "Shit..."

With his hand on your hip, he plunged into your warm, wet cunt, choking on his breath as you whined and pulsed around him, enveloping him to the base. Fuck--he was big--his thick girth stretching you open, the sweet sting causing you to moan helplessly into Mattheo's mouth.

"Fuck..." Theo cursed under his breath, hissing your name as you clenched around his length, head slamming into your cervix with the very first thrust. “Porca puttana…you're so tight..."

Mattheo pulled back, straightening out and smirking down at you as he fumbled with his belt, undoing the latch before pulling out his throbbing length, your stomach instantly doing a cartwheel at the sight of it. He was just as big as Theo, and equally as fucking needy--cock pulsing as he wrapped his fist around it, pumping himself a few times as he eyed your body--took in the sight of his best friend fucking you against his kitchen counter.

And then, Mattheo's hand resumed its place in your hair, yanking your head back as he directed your eyes to meet his. He leaned in slightly, dark gaze burning wounds into your skin. "Open that filthy mouth...stick out your tongue."

Moans were flying from your lips as Theo quickened his pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pinching your hips between his fingers, cursing under his breath in Italian. Through the haze of pleasure, you obeyed Mattheo's command, jaw dropping open before sticking out your tongue.

Mattheo leaned in, closer, and spat into your mouth. "You want to suck this cock?”

Your eyes rolled back, quickly losing yourself in the hurricane of pleasure Theo was providing you with, a deep growl leaving Mattheo's throat as he tightened his grip on your hair.

“Yes, please-“ you whimpered, scalp stinging. “Please let me suck your cock.”

With an approving groan, Mattheo moved closer, guiding his twitching length past your lips, using the hold on your hair to crank your head back, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth, and you groaned, gagging around him.

"Shh," Mattheo purred, head falling back, lids fluttering. "Relax your throat for me."

You choked, drooling and panting as he overwhelmed your throat--but he was so far gone, so encased in fogging fizzles of lust that he didn't even put anymore thought toward your struggles, his groans growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck..." he breathed, tightening his fist in your hair, tugging the strands with force. "That's it," pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged, swelling with the invasion of his cock. "Choke on it, whore."

He snapped his hips, pushing deeper, and you gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to increase his pace, adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat. Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses.

Your body was throbbing, desperately fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes as Theo fucked you deep, stretching you wide, your wails being suffocated by Mattheo's thick cock, your body physically convulsing in overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.

"She likes this," Theo breathed, his hand snaking under your hip, fingers connecting with your clit, and you wailed against Mattheo's cock, eyes rolling back in your skull as you drowned in pleasure. "…she likes being used like a piccola troia del cazzo.” (little fucking slut)

"Mhm," Mattheo breathed, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Yeah she fucking does."

Delight resonated at their words--you were so drunk on the euphoria of being fucked that you could only moan helplessly in agreement. You were close, your orgasm a quickly rising tide, ready to crash over you at any given moment. Your body was trembling, near convulsing, cunt clamping down around Theo, pushing him dangerously close to his own peak.

"Fuck-" Mattheo choked, lungs sputtering--Theo's fingers swirling your clit harsher, quicker. They were both close, you could tell. "Fucking pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around me..."

As your eyes fluttered, dangerously close to reaching your own peak, both men stalled, pulling out abruptly. You almost wailed in protest, almost chewed them each out for abandoning you so fucking close to orgasm like that, until they moved, switching places as though it was a silent understanding, as though they communicated without you hearing it.

Theodore stepped around to your side of the counter, quickly fisting your hair and forcing your mouth to his cock. You whimpered, tasting your own juices on his thick length, but before you could even generate a thought in your head, Mattheo sank into your wet heat, sucking in air through his teeth as it swallowed his heavy, hard length.

"Fucking hell..." he groaned, hands sliding up your sides and finding your tits, cupping them as he began pummelling your cunt. "Fuck-this pussy was worth the wait...so fucking worth the wait..."

You howled in ecstasy, moaning and gagging simultaneously as Theodore fucked your throat with no mercy, thrusting in and out with an animalistic pace. Mattheo slid a hand down your stomach, trailing over the mound of your pussy, connecting with your clit and rubbing vigorous circles against it. The reaction was immediate--your whole body jolting and withering under each of their massive frames, your lungs gasping and panting for air.

"Fuck-you're squeezing me so hard-I'm gonna cum in this tight cunt..." Mattheo breathed, free hand giving your swollen ass cheek another harsh smack. "Fucking slut-shit..."

You whinged, your climax fast approaching, and Theo jerked your head further back, meeting your glossy eyes. "You want to cum, huh?" He muttered, fucking deep into your throat. "You want to fucking cum for us?"

You nodded, or tried to anyways, and Theo grinned, gracing your cheek with a playful smack. "Go on then."

Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, shredded nerves, stripping them of any control they had left, legs twitching and lids squeezing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing fistfuls of your hair while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb.

"Fuck me,” Mattheos voice was shredded, physically in pain, free hand whacking your ass. "She likes cumming on my fucking cock…sexy little bitch-fuck-“

Theo groaned, the sound doing unspeakable things to your body as Mattheo pulled his fingers off your clit and returned to clutch your hip. You knew they both were close, their movements turning erratic--Theo's chest sputtering with each breath until as you felt his hot cum shoot down the back of your throat, you mewled--swallowing every last drop.

You must have blacked out, you must have disconnected from your own body for a moment, because when you came to--all you knew was you could feel Mattheo's climax rupturing through him--you felt the violent fucking into your cervix, the hitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself against your back while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow as he pulled out, tucking himself away.

The room was silent, and for a few moments you were paralyzed, focused on trying to bring breath back into your lungs, focused on trying to return your heart rate to a normal pace. At this point, you weren't sure what was intoxicating you anymore--wether it was the alcohol or the buzzing, overwhelming lust that was slowly fizzling off your skin--but you knew that you were spent, your body nothing more than a limp, exhausted, sweaty mass of flesh.

Mattheo gripped your arms, tugging you off the counter. Theo passed him his white dress shirt, and Mattheo aided you in slipping your arms inside before wrapping his arm around your waist--walking you over toward the couch, plopping down and lying back along its length. Theodore joined in, moving to your other side, the both of them nuzzling up against your exhausted body as the three of you worked to come down from your highs, worked to return your pulses back to a normal pace.

After a moment, once your head had stopped spinning, you flicked your gaze over the both of them, smirk teasing your lips. “Round two?”

#theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodorenott #theodore nott #mattheosmut #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #draco malfoy smut #tom riddle smut #tomriddle smut #tomriddle x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #riddle smut #riddlesmut #lucius smut #lucius malfoy #harry potter #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #tomriddlesmut #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #draco smut

[sinsirellaxx]

Slytherin Boys – What makes them toxic?

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys – what else? 🫡

Mattheo …

… he’ll always monitor who you’re talking to without making it too obvious. He will listen to the conversations you have with others while pretending to be busy with something else. Messages? He has hacked into your accounts and checks everything regularly – there is nothing you can hide.

… whenever a boy’s eyes linger on you for too long, he will memorize their faces and hunt them down either at night or early in the morning. If he finds out that someone has a crush on you, that someone will slip and fall down the moving stairs.

… if you don’t want to be intimate before marriage – for whatever reason – he will guilt you into sleeping with him and giving him what he wants, whenever he wants. This way he can bind you to him in a much deeper way.

… at first, he won’t care about what you wear and how revealing something is, but the deeper in love he is he will slowly start manipulating the way you dress

… depending on how naïve you are, he will make you do the unbreakable vow with him – promising to love each other until death does you part

Theodore …

… wants you to always tell him where you are and with whom

… if you don’t reply to his messages within minutes he will start calling you – and if that doesn’t work, he will come find you

… has many female friends but won’t allow you to have any male friends that he doesn’t approve of – and he does not approve of anyone except for his own friends

… will occasionally flirt with girls in front of you just to make you jealous and to constantly remind you how desirable he is. If you get mad at him for flirting with other girls, he just makes you believe that you are being overly dramatic and that he would never flirt with others. It wasn’t his fault that he had girls throwing themselves at him left and right

… bought you a necklace – basically a choker – with his initials on it and expects you to wear it all the time

Lorenzo …

… never posts you on his socials but expects you to do it

… whenever you spend more time with your friends, he will start a fight to ruin your time with them – if you’re not having fun with him, you won’t be having fun at all

… always questions your love for him if you don’t give him what he wants: You don’t want to change your clothes? You must hate him. You won’t stay in with him instead of going to Hogsmeade with the girls? He always knew you didn’t love him as much as you claimed you did. You don’t want to be intimate? Your love for him isn’t strong enough – his ex-girlfriends never made him ask for it

… buys you clothes he likes wants you to dress up for him all.the.time

Draco …

… he is annoyed whenever you have an opposing opinion

… uses his parents’ wealth to impress and overwhelm you. You are mad at him? He buys you jewelry. He forgot your anniversary? He’ll take you on a trip to Paris. He hurt you and screamed at you in a fight? He’ll have roses delivered to your room every day until you forgive him

… you are not allowed to talk to the golden trio at all

… you always have to join him on the boring pureblood-events his parents host, even if you don’t want to

… he has to be you first priority. Always. Even if you aren’t his

Blaise …

… is the sweetest and most attentive boyfriend until you do something that provokes him

… will cancel dates whenever Draco needs him and does not have any sympathy when you get mad at him for it

… can’t help but smirk whenever girls stare at him with heart-eyes even if you are with him – he still enjoys their attention

… even though he stares at the cleavage of other girls from time to time he does not allow you to wear revealing clothes at all

… kinda ghosts you whenever he’s back home

… calls his ex-girlfriends crazy and problematic

#slytherin boys #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire

[ottogatto]

I would like to submit two ideas because I think I'm poking something but not going in fully, so I would very much like your opinions and additions about it (of course, as long as they remain in good faith *side eyes possible antis viewing my post*).

Marauders and surface-level rebellion

I've finally put to words something that really bothered me with the Marauders, though I don't know the name for it.

It started when I read a reblog that said:

I remember Brennan saying “laws are just structured threats made by the ruling socioeconomic class” during an episode of D20 and we truly just had to stan immediately

This is something dear privileged white woman Rowling didn't realize/understand well, since she held a high socioeconomical status even during her """poverty""" stage. It's known that, despite seeming to be defending ideas of fighting against fascism and "pureblood" supremacy in favor of acceptance of the other, her books reek of colonialism/imperalism. The story of the Marauders, a gang of privileged boys like her, is an in-world replica of that problem where Rowling betrays yet again her actual mindset.

The Marauders adopt the "bad boys who break rules" to get style, while completely losing/staining the moral sense in it.

Let's take piracy.

Some people pirate stuff because they consider that the stuff they'd like to get comes from unethical companies that abuse their employees or use modern slavery, or people who spread harm against certain minorities (like Rowling against trans people and thus the LGBT+ community), so while they may want to access the content, they don't want to give them money and might even encourage pirating their stuff to make them lose money.

Some pirate stuff because otherwise it's lost due to unfortunate "terms of use" -- see video games companies like Ubisoft (deletes gaming account after a while), Nintendo (does not bring back old games), etc.

Others pirate stuff because they just don't have the money but they still want to try the stuff that might make them happy and forget that they're poor -- reasoning that the company isn't losing any money anyway, or not much, since they wouldn't have been able to pay for it in any case.

Others pirate stuff because they consider the price ridiculously high or they consider it shouldn't be something to pay for at all. (Like education stuff -- isn't education supposed to be free for all, so that it can actually uphold everyone's fundamental and unconditional ( = not conditioned by wealth...) right to have an education? Oh and before anyone asks: I've DEFINITELY bought the ~15 expensive books that's roughly worth 500€ in total and that my uni asked I buy to study and get my degree...)

Rowling's Marauders is a group that would pirate stuff just because they'd think it would give them an edge, because they'd think it would make them cool to be seen as "talented" hackers who "defy" companies. Companies... that their own friends and families would own, and as such, would find that kind of behavior funny and entertaining (while they would trash other people around for considering it).

Another example. In society, in history, it's been proven time and again that breaking rules -- going against the law -- is an eventuality that's important for everyone to consider, if they want to defend their rights. Anti-racism, feminism, LGBT Pride, etc, advanced because people broke rules. In USA states where abortion is currently being banned, women and minors (+ their close ones) must now consider breaking the rules to get an abortion. (Privileged people don't give a fuck about those people, and if they suddenly decide that (moral) rules don't apply to them and they will get an abortion, they will just take a plane ticket to a country where abortion is legal, fiddling with legal stuff if necessary thanks to the lawyers their fortunes can afford and the lobbies that they're instituting.)

Revolutions happened because people broke rules too. I particularly like the 1793 Constitution in France Because it asserts that the people have the right to break rules and riot if the power in place threatens their fundamental rights:

Article 35. - Quand le gouvernement viole les droits du peuple, l'insurrection est, pour le peuple et pour chaque portion du peuple, le plus sacré des droits et le plus indispensable des devoirs. Article 35. - When the government violates the people's rights, insurrection is, for the people and for each portion of the people, the most sacred of rights and the most essential of duties.

(Of course the power in place would state and enforce and make use of propaganda to say that it's completely illegal and illegetimate and that those who riot for legitimate rights are terrorists!)

Breaking rules is at the core of anti-fascism, anti-dictatorship, anti-totalitarianism. Breaking rules is essential when those rules are abusive. Too often, those who put those rules in place really are only setting their rules of the game to establish their power over the others. Or as the reblog says: "laws are just structured threats made by the ruling socioeconomic class".

Rowling's Marauders break rules because they are the socioeconomical class in power. As such, no one can do anything about it, no one will really tell them down for it. They get excused and justified and romanticized by their peers, just like billionaires & politicians are excused by their peers and notably mainstream media (which is owned... by other billionaires). They break rules -- not because they think it's necessary and the morally right thing to do despite the dangers it puts them in -- but because it makes them feel powerful, important, invincible, which for them is very fun. As Snape says: James and his cronies broke rules because they thought themselves above them:

“Your father didn’t set much store by rules either,” Snape went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. “Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. [...]”

They break rules because they're allowed to.

Which is why, in reality, the Marauders aren't really breaking rules or defying anything or opposing an actual big threat. They're a bunch of jocks who are having fun in the playground that's been attributed to them thanks to their status and family heritage (others wouldn't get the same indulgence because they don't get that privilege).

They break rules because they want to look cool, to be the "bad boys". The message has been compleyely botched. Especially with Lily actually finding this hot.

Because Rowling finds this hot:

[...] I shook hands with a woman who leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, 'Sirius Black is sexy, right?' And yes, of course she was right, as the Immeritus club know. The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders... and to answer one burning question on the discussion boards, his eyes are grey.

(Anyone has an eyes washing station?)

Another quote:

"Sirius was too busy being a big rebel to get married."

(Nevermind the eyes washing, anyone's got some bleach instead?)

Stanning James Potter for being the leader of a gang that prides itself on breaking rules and always getting away with it -- it feels like stanning Elon Musk for being "innovative" and "a daring entrepreneur" despite being a manchild who exploits workers and modern-world slavery to play with his billions while always getting away with it.

They're not being "rebels" -- they're being bullies and flexing the fact they can get away with it thanks to abundance of privilege. Those are the tastes of a posh British white woman. She wanted the facade -- not the substance (that is, if she ever understood it).

You might say that they did oppose a big threat, the Death Eaters, but again, it's botched because:

they target a lonely, unpopular boy who's best friends with a Muggleborn Gryffindor, rather than baby Death Eaters like Mulciber, Lucius, Rosier, Avery, Regulus, etc.

The leader sexually harasses the Muggleborn Gryffindor because he's sexually jealous of the unpopular boy who dared not take the insult about his chosen House and shut up. Lily is treated as an object, they don't listen to her, and they barely speak about her later. (Lots to say to show that, which I won't do here because this is not the main subject.)

When the Marauders do join the Order, they do it... because they primarily want to adopt a rock-n-roll style and play the "bad boys" again. Or at least that's the message that's given to the reader:

They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.

(God, the Prequel is so cringy.)

They don't choose Dumbledore as the Secret Keeper, they don't tell him they changed to Pettigrew -- even though he literally was their war leader -- James uses the Cape to fuck around even though he was supposed to be hiding with Lily and then Harry (until Dumbledore takes the Cape from him)... and eventually, their group exploded, with James killed off, Sirius thrown to Azkaban, Peter (the traitor) hiding as a rat and Lupin going off to find jobs to survive.

Why did that happen? Because they thought of playing their part in the Order like going on a teenage adventure rather than engaging in a resistance organization. It was, first and foremost, about playing "the bad boys" and having fun.

(Harry half-inherits this. While he doesn't break rules just to look cool, and actually has several moments where he does break rules because it's the right thing to do -- like under Umbridge or, of course, when Voldemort takes power -- he does often get pampered when he breaks them in his earlier years. By Dumbledore, but also McGonagall, however much Rowling tries to sell her as a "strict but fair" teacher. Or by Slughorn, now that I think about it. That's something that enraged Snape, as it brought up memories of Harry's father -- Snape's own bully -- getting the same treatment.)

It's not a coincidence that Rowling not only failed to properly convey through the Marauders the true value of breaking rules, but also lusted over them for adopting that "bad boys" trope. It speaks to her own privilege -- she who never had to put herself in danger and go against the law in a risky attempt to protect herself or other less privileged people.

(Here's a useful read to expand on those worldbuilding issues.)

2. Dark Magic, obscurantism and conservatism

For context: Opinion: The Dark Magic/Light Magic Dichotomy is Nonsense (by pet_genius).

The idea of "Dark Magic" as something that's repeatedly told to be "evil" magic and where you cross the line of the forbidden, while hardly putting in question that notion that was (for some reason) enforced by wizard society, is another blatant example of Rowling betraying her mindset of privileged British white woman.

Rowling couldn't put herself in the minds of a society of "outcasts (witches & wizards) deeply enough to consider they would not see any magic as "Dark" at all (being a ""Muggle"" concept), or that Dark magic is only magic that requires something unvaluable to be traded off -- like one's soul or health or life or sanity. Instead, she has Dark Magic defined as "evil" magic, even though her own books show that you can do evil stuff with normal magic, and that you can do morally good stuff with Dark magic. This thing happened because Rowling could not think past her own little world and instead she poured a conservatist mentality (+ typical "Muggle", anti-witch prejudice) into the HP (wizard society) worldbuilding without considering that there could, in fact, be fundamental differences between the two worlds that include thinking of magic differently. (This has a lot to do with Rowling's wizard world being a pro-imperalism fest.)

"Dark Magic" feels like a lazy, badly-executed plot device to tell the reader who's a good guy and who is not. Because of course, that's how things work in real-life, huh… (Did she ever hear of "don't tell, show"?) It's used as an excuse to define who's evil (teen Severus) or not (James), who's worthy or not -- not how their magic was used. Which is a BIG problem:

“I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” The intensity of his gaze made her blush. “They don’t use Dark Magic, though.” / “Scourgify!” Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him —

Even worse, Rowling doesn't follow her own in-world moral framework. Dark magic is acceptable for some people (Rowling's partial self-inserts: Dumbledore, Harry, Hermione to Marietta...) but not for those that Rowling hates (Snape, who ironically represents the closest thing to rebelling by unapologetically obsessing over the Dark Arts). Again, this is at best unadressed in-world hypocrisy, at worst an expression of in-world and out-universe privilege (I get to do this and stay a good guy, but you don't).

There could have easily been rightful criticism of whatever could be defined as "Dark Magic". What if Dark magic was just something defined as "Dark" usually because the power in place doesn't want the people to touch it? Is abortion or contraception or a sex-altering or a goverment-threatening spell, Dark Magic? Is foreign or ethnicity-specific or female-centered or queer-centered magic, "Dark"? How about showing why (Muggle-raised but also neurodivergent) Severus thought Dark magic was so great, showing his point of view, while also establishing where the true limits are? If Lily can't be the one who sees past the "fear-mongering anti-intellectualism/propaganda", how about Harry being the one who does, thanks to him relating to Snape on a personal level? How about making Hermione go from someone who condems Dark Magic, to someone who entirely changes her point of view and understands that this is all bullshit -- effectively showing the dangers of only following what the books say, without putting them into question or thinking by yourself? How about a nuanced view of Dark magic as something that requires a significant sacrifice, which is conceivable for something they see as equally or even more important [Lily's life for Harry; Snape's soul integrity for Dumbledore]? How about making the Death Eaters, people who deviate that legitimate interest, rather than just evil guys who thrive in Dark magic for its supposed added evilness? How about showing that Dark magic was just a notion invented by Muggles to throw "witches" (real or not) to the burning stakes -- later taken by the witches and wizards in power to define, in the magical community, what was okay or definitely forbidden because it's the trademark of those who represent a threat to the magical community (understand: people who riot or strike or protest against the ruling socioeconomical class' politics)?

But there was none of that.

"Dark" magic in HP merely seems to be a weird concept that at best accidentally takes the form of an in-world obscurantism, at worst is just the trademark of someone who cannot imagine a "hunted, ostracized" community with a different culture and mindset than her own. Aggravating is the fact that she used "Dark magic" as a plot device to magically cast some people as good and others as never bad – again, probably reflecting her own questionable mentality.

The fact Rowlnig invented the notion of Dark Magic and had her world consider it seriously as an evil thing instead of being open-minded seems to be less telling of her wishes to show a wizard society that can be as prejudiced as the muggle one, and more of her own bizarre world where you must be evil if you are knowledgeable in or interested in certain "taboo" things (RIP neurodivergents).

Rowling glorifies the Trio and the Marauders for breaking rules. Yet when it comes to actually breaking expectations and norms, notably in the wizarding society -- like the use of another magical species as slaves, or the blatant anti-Muggle prejudice held by everyone including "good guys" (or anti-centaur while we're at it), or stupid anti-knowledge prejudice like "Dark magic is evil" -- there is none of that. At best, it's surface-level opposition that comes out as white savior syndrome. At worst, the protagonists make it their noble code to enforce those norms, and "sinful" characters (Snape, for one) are punished for not conforming. Too often, those sinful characters are punished by the "good guys" with the very thing that they apparently oppose so fervently.

Without ever adressing the fact that those characters were ("morally") allowed to do that because it was just, in the end, a matter of who gets the privilege to do that, and who does not.

There.

Do you have anything to say to develop on those ideas? I feel like I'm reaching my knowledge limit and I'd like to see if those ideas can be expanded.

#pro snape #severus snape #harry potter #dark magic #sectumsempra #anti marauders #anti jkr #fuck jkr #classism #imperalism #colonialism #hp #hp books #hp prequel #obscurantism #bad boys #piracy #virtue signaling

[in-flvx]

Okay, so: dumbledore is not a fan of Sirius Black. We see that in their few interactions I think, and most definitely in the way he harshly critiques Sirius' character right after his untimely death.

My theory on that is that sirius' pureblood status and large generational wealth and influence defy dumbledores usual tactics of emdebting marginalized people to him - by doing the bare minimum (employing hagrid and filch, letting Remus go to school) but no more than that. We know dumbledore has major political power, but we are never shown how he uses that. Only that he does.

With Sirius he fails to do so, and Sirius actually dares to defy him again and again. Sirius is a rogue cannon to dumbledore, and he's one of the only people whose direct, independent actions actively move the plot along, and I think dumbledore hates him for this. The only way he managed to deal with Sirius, and to taper him down, was to lock him up in grimmault place, but even from that point Sirius has incredible influence over the plot

#sirius black #anti dumbledore #Character discussion

[cubeapples]

look, all i'm saying is that if tom/voldemort did not have a prophecy that tied them together, they would never get together organically.

tom is the type of guy who needs to find something REALLY interesting in whoever he is going to pursue. this is why, in canon, we don't see him with anyone, simply because he couldn't care less about any of them or any of their feelings.

he's a collector of significant items. (locket, cup, ring etc.) these items are extremely significant to him and only due to this, does he spend time actually working to get any of them and place them in a [debatably] safe area with safety measures.

later, we can infer from the text that he pursues bella only because she serves him well and he grew fond of her due to her devotion and pureblood aristocracy (and maybe perhaps because of her gorgeous looks.)

and like, if he hadn't met bella, he probably would have died without a 'partner' at all.

the only reason voldemort 'pursues' harry is because harry is a threat to his life and he is obsessed with the prophecy. if the prophecy isn't there, the key connection between him and harry is non-existent and hence, tom would simply not put in any effort to get to know harry. it's as simple as that, unless you are going to go the ooc route where harry becomes a death eater.. blah blah blah, which is fine, too.

and you might argue, well, hey, what if tom falls for harry because of his personality? to which i would reply is extremely unlikely, due to tom favouring superficial qualities over things that truly matter. as we see with the objects he collects to turn into horcruxes, they are very flashy and ostentatious things that give no real value unless you sell it. (except the locket.) you may say that they are very valuable because they remind tom of hogwarts.. this may be true, but he doesn't really value the things the objects remind him of. for the gaunt ring that's supposed to reprsent family, he killed his remaining family in his fathers side, and he framed his uncle on his mothers side. the only things of value to him are the objects themselves.

just like that, he probably wouldn't look at personality first, when choosing a partner, the first thing he notices if whether they are a means to an end. in the extreme case of bella, he probably loved her unyielding devotion to him and his cause because it helped him acheive his goals. it also helped that she was a black, she was beautiful and that she had wealth and high status.

but harry... harry doesn't have any of those. and harry wouldn't want any of those.

without the prophecy, tom would view harry as a semi-intelligent, not-so-studious quidditch player who has, like, three friends because he sucks at communicating and would want nothing to do with him even if harry tries pursuing him. (in hogwarts era tomarry aus)

tl;dr: without the prophecy, tomarry/harrymort would not happen, and never will :(

#voldemort #lord voldemort #tom riddle #harry potter #tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #:( sorry guys #this is not proofread if there are any spelling mistakes please lmk #it is 6am #bellamort

[foursaints]

Who do you ship Pandora with, if anyone? And how do you imagine her dynamic with said person?

lily, probably!

alright now that we’re hiding under the cut, let’s talk about the secret real answer. this is genuinely a diabolical Hear Me Out & we’re all pinky promising to put our delusion hats on okay….

lowkey…. it’s lucius malfoy 😭 i believe they ruined each other for all other people. it’s a haughty stuck-up social climbing failson & the strange sickly carnivorous girlinventor who haunts his waking dreams and nightmares.

LISTEN!!!! i know i sound completely bonkers but i’m entranced by the idea of a younger lucius (with much less status and wealth before his marriage into the black family), who is much scrappier & angrier & more pathetic & desperate & obsessed with upward class mobility & completely insane. he’s still the Worst, he’s just a lot more pitiful and unhinged and his obsequiousness is genuinely embarrassing.

and then there is pandora, who only has her brother, who turned down the option of being heir to an ancient pureblood house, who is as freakish & uncaring of other’s opinions as anyone can get . who is just as angry as him. and he pisses her off

i think they would hate each other but i also think she would sneak that smarmy slytherin weirdo into the greenhouse & he would kick petulantly at an overturned flowerpot & she might brush his hair back from his face. they would hate each other but he would be disgustingly in love with her (without admitting it) and she’d be surprised whenever he acted like a gentleman. she likes his ambition for political power and he likes hers for invention. i NEED to see lucius tortured with love for a disheveled hippie ravenclaw….

it’s bohemian artist x sleazy politician!!! it’s evilwife x pathetic cringefail husband!!!!! she could fix him (get him to share a blunt with her)!!!! they would never publicly associate with each other of course, but there’s a really combative mutual fondness / fascination there.

they’re coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird variants

#a #i’m actually a lunatic. let’s all promise to keep this one secret & never mention it again #ludora

[kaetastic]

IF ONLY YOU KNEW

pairing: Regulus Black x Slytherin!F!Reader

summary: She was born green. Well, not literally, but the bond between two Slytherins was like no other. Written in the stars, destiny had been made for the two long before they were even born. So if he was truly her soulmate, does she have to bear the weight of his absence until she wilts?

word count: 4.1k

warning: angst, talks of character's death. had a plot, lost said plot.

notes: I haven’t written in some time even though I know I could’ve :( It was more than writer’s burnout, but even that I can’t pinpoint why. I also feel that Tumblr is the ONLY social media platform that I own where I don’t feel discouraged at any sort of interaction. I feel free here because I get to publish a story and just read other pieces by other authors. I also feel like this story has less of a plot and more of angst LOL IM SORRY OKAY i just want to cry right now haha.

“It is understandable that you are nervous.” The soft voice filled the air. Even though the windows were perched open as wide as they could to invite new air in, the witch felt incredibly suffocated. There were a lot of thoughts circulating her mind, overlapping each other and cutting one after the other before it could be completed. She felt her energy dim down by each second as her brain welcomed the traffic. Sometimes she wished there were potions that could hinder the thoughts for just a moment.

Her eyes laid on the reflection of her figure on her vanity mirror. Despite taking care of herself and getting ready to combat the obstacles of the day, sleep was one thing that did not want to cooperate with her. No matter what magic. The prominent eye bags were embarrassing to say the least after consuming concoctions after concoctions. Specifically tailored to her own suffering by some of the best Potioneers and apothecaries. The best people that came when you had pureblood family connections.

The witch was blessed (as her late mother would say) for having such luxuries in her life without ever working for it. Except, her mother didn’t say that in a ‘you have to appreciate what you have’ and more like ‘you have better things than low-life people so make sure to use it to your advantage and rub it on their faces.’ However, she never understood. Yes, she had wealth to her name, she had always been gifted with extravagant gifts ever since a mere infant, and she had all the access to so many things a normal witch didn’t. But in the far back of her mind, she had one thought on an endless repetition. She would trade it all for him back. Anything and everything.

“No. It is not. I am not just nervous, I’m,” Y/N huffed out, pushing the sentences and thoughts she would need to the most prioritized in her head. Pushing herself out of the vanity seat, she paced from one side of her room to the other. There were jitters in her legs, suddenly she needed to let out the pent up emotions in a form of movement. “I feel so angry, it is indescribable, and then I feel so down.”

A chuckle came from the previous voice, “Yes, I am very much aware of your rollercoaster of emotions. In fact, wasn’t I always the one to call you out on it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, planting her palms on the window sill, her pupils grazed over the well-looked after garden. The male blurted, “Would it be so bad?”

Despite being caught up on the butterfly that innocently planted itself on a leaf, the witch mumbled under her train of thoughts, “I don’t know. It could go so many ways and I do not like that. Just when I thought I was settling myself into peace (that was a lie), of course Dumbledore had to reach out to me.”

She held her head low, fingers fidgeting with the ring wrapped around her finger. It was so cheesy for it to house an emerald crystal, but cheesy was one side he showed her to no one else. Y/N plopped back down on the seat, her head resting on her hands. Gorgeous. A masterpiece worked on so hard the public sought after it so much just to take it from her grasp. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t with her anymore. She sighed, getting lost in the colourless picture. The witch stared at it with so much love and longing that it might’ve pushed her back to square one, “Reggie, I wish you were here.”

Her thumb caressed the framed picture so gently.

“What do you mean, my love? I am.” The moving figure in the photo smirked, leaning his body on the side of the frame. Y/N noted the curls in his hair gently falling down his face. Tranquil nights that were not exactly innocent shared together in a bed, she had always fidgeted with the strands of hair that stuck to the sweat beads on his forehead. Nights that she can count. She missed the feeling of it between her fingers, and the way he always smelt like his cologne. It was always lingering.

“Piss off Reggie,” The wizard laughed a melody she so dearly missed. “You know what I mean.”

Regulus’ lips fall into a thin line.

“I am always with you. Remember when I spent that one summer at yours? The stupid promise I made when we were kids that I was going to haunt you even when I am dead is still being upheld.” Y/N laughed and she couldn’t help but feel the tears prickling in her eyes, “You are more than capable. We both know it. Dumbledore may had his eyes out for us back then, but he’s a man who wants to do good.”

That’s where the issue lied. Why did Dumbledore send an owl to her? Even though in the letter, the great wizard had stated that she was invited for a private meeting- that had to be the most vague reasoning ever. Not to forget the fact that Dumbledore had remembered how great of a student she was. He stated that she had great skills and assets. That was it. The line ended there… before he mentioned that the meeting would take place in 12 Grimmauld Place. That had stuffed a blockage in her throat because Y/N couldn’t breathe after slapping the letter to a close.

Despite there being no inhibitors of that house for some time, Y/N could not bear the idea of making that place her home. She could not imagine herself getting out of bed, reading a book, and cozying up in front of the fireplace (the other tasking job would have been carried out by the elf) because every corner of that house reminded her of Regulus. There was no universe where she would settle in a place that reminded her of what she no longer had. So she stayed at the house they dreamt of for their future. It was bought by their families as an engagement gift for when they had turned 17. It was young, sure, but the two were more than sure. Additionally, this was the future set up for them.

The new house still held memories of him, but not as much. It was a comprimise but she would rather make home of a place that lacked her painful memories. Wrapping a hefty, tight chain around her chest, it felt like a punishment knowing that the house was once a wish for the two. Now, it’s just her living that wish.

Regulus kept yapping reassurance, always using the wit he was adorned for while Y/N entertained herself with the countless framed pictures of Regulus. It felt like a routine at this point. A restart to the cycle she wished would just end. With a wide grin, Regulus had his fist thrown in the air as he rode the quidditch broom as if he was born for it. An arm had been thrown over her shoulders, yanking her closer to his body. The couple smiled in bliss in their infamous green robes. So innocent, so clueless for the future that was awaiting.

The witch remembered it as if it was yesterday, the jealousy that always were aimed at the two by the other pureblood children of their age. To be bethrothed before you were even breathing the air of the world was one thing; however, to be bethothed before being born and falling head over heels for one another was a one in a billion. Always reminded by her great aunts and all the women in her life that in one form or another, they had to find peace in their marriage. They had to find and make love in the marriage. It didn't apply to them.

Even though their seniors would tease and jest them for how they were always joined hip to hip every single day, they knew deep down- they craved for what they had. The compatibility between the two was a dream not even fairtytales could match. She knew that girls had eyes on Regulus, who wouldn't? But it was more than wanting the boy, it was wanting what they had. Regulus never had to reassure her despite the few times a burn had ignited in her chest. She knew they were for one another. Who could rewrite what was already written in the stars?

The ideal pureblood match.

She realized Regulus had stopped talking. The wizard watched her with such affection in his eyes, “What does Dumbledore want with me?”

The nature of the great wizard always ticked her off. Despite being praised for doing so many good deeds like Grindelwald, he did some things very harshly and brazenly. Not to forget his favoritism towards Gryffindor. It was petty of her to hold onto a memory like that after all these years, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m not too sure either. However… the timing of the letter and my brother’s escape is too coincidental for it to be otherwise.” Regulus replied.

Great. Even though the wizard had stated in the letter that it was just a private meeting between the two, she knew the wizard always had cards up his sleeves. If she was, thereotetically, to meet Sirius Black- she would actually freeze in time. The two Black brothers didn't exactly look identical, but the black curls, their mannerism... she hoped he became a worse prick than he was in school.

Y/N sighed out, she needed to get this over with even though she really did not want to face whatever it was, "It's time."

The wizard in the frame sent a comforting smile, "You've got this, my love."

Pulling the drawer of the vanity, the hinges creaking, she pulled out a box that was kept in pristine condition. It had been so long since she needed to take it out. It's not like she left her house often. She let her eyes rest on the frame before resting her hands on its side as if it had been the most fragile thing to exist.

"See you soon, Reggie."

The lid of the box shut out the talking wizard.

There it was in all its glory. Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The rumbling and droplets of bricks had ceased, revealing the door camouflaged to all eyes except those with magic in their veins. She didn't know how to feel. Despite preparing herself for a few days and en route to apparate, she was very much not ready. Her fingers suddenly went numb. Although, the grip on her box remained tight as ever.

Y/N felt as if she had gone mad. The voice of her lover when he was a mere age of 12 played in her ears, followed by his laugh. Not even controlling her muscles, the corner of her lips curled up at the memory. The peri-puberty voice would be completely gone in a couple of years when he reached 17. Now it's a voice embroided in a picture frame.

She breathed in before taking a step forward. Just get it over with. Without even knocking, she made the boisterous creaking of the wooden door as her announcement. She had done the one thing she thought she wouldn't ever have to do. Step foot into the house her late lover would've inherited. The place reeks of him.

It was depressing- the thoughts and the place. She stood at the entrance of the incredibly narrow hallway, the walls that used to hold up framed portraits of credulous Black family members now empty with decaying portaits. Unmaintained. Corners of the wallpaper had start to curl into the air, its sharp edges prodding in the air- ready to launch attack to whomever finds confidence. The floor panels creaked with every slight step she made, and her body was enveloped by a sudden fright when she heard faint murmurs.

"Blood-traitors..."

That voice. As her head shot up with nostalgia and eyes sparkled with hope, a petite figure made way into her peripheral, stepping down from the staircase. If Y/N had to use better vocabulary, she would describe it as an aged old creature with wrinkles on its skin that matched trenches of mountains, on the other hand, she would describe it as what you would imagine sagging skin. The witch stood in the entrance, suddenly feeling the box slipping in her grip as she stared at the elf with a wide smile.

Feeling a presence in a house he was sworn to protect, the elf turned to face the witch. No, the magic in her wasn't tainted. It hadn't been touched. At all. Pure. His eyes widened while the corner of his lips curled up. A smile he had only been giving to his Mistress Walburga Black for Godric knows how long.

"Miss!" The house-elf exclaimed. Holding his cleaning equipments close to his chest, he couldn't believe it. She was right in front of him. In flesh. Excitement jitters in his frail old body, excitement he forgot he could experience. This was beyond a good day. This make ups for the blood traitor who found shelter in the house he had been taking care of ever since the Black household had vanished. Well, partially. Kreacher did not know how to react.

"Kreacher." The witch retorted back, a grin now playing on her face as she stepped closer towards him. She remembered how the house-elf was always so loyal and dedicated to the Black household. Well, to all except Sirius. There were summers when she had resided in the house- times when she truly had Regulus all to herself. Even though she wished those moments were calm and peaceful, it truly was not. The bricks of the house stayed solid until chaos erupted from the same source every single time. Sirius. Y/N lost counts of how many times she had left Regulus' room to meet the scowls on Sirius' face. Shouts after screams, arguments after disagreements- it was the norm for the Black household until Sirius had left home. Then there were never much noise.

If there was one thing Sirius was right about, it was the more time Y/N and Regulus had spent time together- the deeper they were in the hell-hole of trouble.

The house-elf stared up in amazement, "Miss! Kreacher has missed you! Kreacher has lost count how long it has been since Kreacher had seen Miss!"

Sitting on the edge of her tongue, the witch readied herself to reply to the joyness but not a word. Not a speckle of sound was made. How long has it truly been? It was a foolish question to ask since she had been counting ever since Regulus had left home and never came back. A decade and a half. A chunk of one's life and she still believed that her heart could not be mended. Her heart heavy wherever she went, even the short walk through her garden. Maybe if she left her house more often and saw more people than those that came to visit hers for services, she would've moved on. Would it be wrong? To devote yourself to one person who you thought your future lied with, then find someone else? Would it be so selfish?

"It has been some time, Kreacher."

The house-elf nodded eagerly, he thought today would be like no other except for the fact that he now has another burden on his plate, "Kreacher hasn't seen Miss in so long, Kreacher asks what is Miss' business in the Black's home?"

"She's here for me."

The split second she gaped her mouth to respond, another much deeper voice responded. Standing at the staircase stood a man with little to no life in him, Azkaban truly sucked the life out of him. His skin lost its colour, grey and pale, almost sickly. His eyes looked like it sunk in deeper than before, he lost fat in his cheeks, and his beard somehow trimmed. He obviously controlled whatever he could, but a few months would not bring back the soul he had 12 years ago.

"Welcome back,” The wizard gave her a tight smile as if he knew she was trying to get under his skin. Well, she wasn't exactly trying- after years of not getting along together, it just happened naturally. Y/N tilted her head, "Thought I was meeting Dumbledore."

"Well," He shot back, leaning on the railings (that was enough for the house-elf to take his leave despite not wanting to), "You thought wrong. I have no idea how people falling for his tricks.”

She chuckled at the absurdity.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius shot an eyebrow at her question. For a moment she thought she had asked the wrong question. No. She did not. As he made down the last few steps, the man stood in front of her. At an angle, maybe with lots of alterations and blurring, he looked like her Reggie.

“It’s my home. Well, house,” He quickly corrected himself. “Though, I’m surprised.”

When he noticed she didn’t understand him, he continued, “This place was to be yours, was it not? But you left. Abandoned it even.”

While he had the joy to crane his neck around at the place that seemed to be holding onto its last thread, she had her eyes set on his face. He found it humorous. Funny. Amusing. There were not enough words in the English vocabulary to describe the burning in her chest. The wizard turned to her face, “So why are you not occupying it?”

“You’re infuriating as ever.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

As much as she wanted to stupefy the man before her, there was one question she wanted an answer to. So many questions but she yearned to have its replied to. She mumbled, eyes wandering on the diminshed trimmings of the walls- something she suddenly became fascinated with, “How did you find out?”

He hummed, waiting for her to finish.

“How did you find out about him?”

Him. She clutched the cardboard box harder, leaving small indents of pressure that could be brought back with a little magic. Losing Regulus was something she had to make peace with, but having a photo framed of him that was capable of communicating with her did not make it easy. Especially when she had begged numerous times at the beginning where he had been. Where he had gone to.

'Your mind is clouded with questions that I cannot answer, and I am sorry that I will never be able give you that clarity. My absence will leave a hole in your days. I know that it is selfish of me to know of its consequence and still pursue with it but I wish you a good life, a life we talk so much of. A life that I can no longer be part of. No danger will trail you, our past is the past.'

The words were choked out of her throat as the sudden recall of his letter clenched her heart.

Sirius wet his lips, “Kreacher did. That was after I checked his room.”

Regulus' room. The room she had made enemies with ever since the disappearance. She bet it remained the same. The sheets made neat (just how Walburga liked it), the carpet inched slightly to an odd angle, the broomstick leaned against the wall, and the framed picture of them freed of dusts.

"Although, that elf never mentioned anything."

The glossy appearance of her eyes vanished into the air once she brought her attention back to the escapee in front of her. It was the same response she received when she had gone on her knees for the house-elf, begging with bursting springs out of her eyes.

You are truly cruel, Regulus.

"He said the same thing to me."

Now it was Sirius' time to be intrigued, "Were you not head over heels for my brother? Or am I missing some bits here?"

Y/N couldn't help but to chuckle. Sirius and Regulus was the face of the rebellion for the phrase 'blood runs thicker than water'. He did not know what happened to his brother, he did not seem to be bothered by it. They dare say Slyterins were full of hatred.

"Let's move to the tapestry."

Understanding of how suffocating it was in the narrow entrance, the two magical beings stood in the room that had generations of the Black family marked on. A room full of history. There was one name she only sought out for, and she lost herself in his name.

"I don't know either. One... one day," She cleared her throat, noticing how her emotions were gripping around her words. "He held me like it was our last time. I jokingly asked if he would miss me for a few hours. He didn't say anything. Once he left that door, he never came back home."

Her fingers traced over the 'some fifteen years earlier' text.

"I knew how strong he was. He was more than capable but I could not find sleep that night. It felt like there was something in me- telling me that something was not right. The bed felt wrong, the air was wrong- it all felt wrong. I then saw the sun awaking, so I did too. And on top of the kitchen table was this."

The wizard looked at the carboard box she was handing to him. He had been extremely curious as to what she was holding, but did not inquire. His breath stilled. The lid came off to reveal the young man he had grown up with. While he looked like he aged a hundred years with tattoos scattered all over his body, the wizard in the photo frame had encapsulated his youth. No moment would have prepared him when a voice rang into his ears.

"Oh, hello, brother."

Sirius nearly flipped the box out of his hands if it wasn't for Y/N's quick reflexes. The box floated in the air whilst the magic residue from her wand evaporated into the air.

"What- what is that!" Clearly he wasn't aware of the invention.

"A picture frame."

"Well, clearly it is! What do you take me for? A fool?"

Before he could snap another remark at her, Regulus chirped up, "I think we all do, Sirius."

The wizard took a step back as Y/N pulled out the frame out of the box, displaying the moving picture. It was as if Regulus was inside the frame. Stuck. It could not be.

"Regulus... I don't know how to explain it but he enchanted it as if it was him."

Sirius took a deep breath in before looking back at the picture frame, suddenly very aware of his surrounding. He did not know if he should throw a fist or flee from the room. What magic was this? He has never heard of an interactive picture frame.

"What dark magic have you guys dabbled in?"

Y/N threw a hard glance at him, "It is not dark magic."

"Then what is it? There is no such thing as a talking picture! I've seriously gone mad. Merlin."

Regulus and Y/N watched as Sirius gripped his mane of a hair, crouching onto the ground whilst he rock himself slowly. He was mumbling incoherent things under his breath. Regulus could not help the stiffle that escaped his lips. The younger wizard found it beyond amusing. It was entertaining him. At the sound, Sirius snapped up, pointing fingers at the picture frame.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"To show you how great of a wizard he was, Sirius. I, of all people, knew the dispute between you two. You don't need the closure but I know deep down, you wonder just the same as me. We grew up together under this roof and we both have so many unanswered questions."

"I know the irrational and troubling things we did back then, but we grew up, we saw things we didn't before. Despite all the evil we were in, Regulus and Kreacher refused to tell me what happened. Not a bit. I know that I cannot be the only one to mourn him because Regulus is more than a stranger- he's your baby brother."

Sirius's eyes met with her glossy ones, the term sounded so foreign to him. The man whose voice was not heard and thrown behind bars felt a pin poke his heart as he realized the woman before him seeked answers he now also wants.

#regulus black x reader #regulus black oneshot #regulus black angst #regulus black imagine #regulus black x slytherin!reader #regulus black fanfic #regulus black fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter onehost #harry potter imagine

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I know they’re NPCs we never see in canon, but do you have any headcanons for both sets of Harry Potter’s grandparents?

Well, there's things that make it into fics, though I'm not sure they really count in the fact that if people wanted to argue with me I'd just shrug and a lot of them are because it's useful for one story or another.

That said, we do know/can infer quite a bit about both sets even though we never see them. This is a lot like the Alphard Black case in that @therealvinelle and I subscribe to what we can infer/what makes for the best character for our purposes.

Euphemia and Fleamont Potter

We know a few things about James's parents without even venturing into the nebulous and hilarious realm of Pottermore. First, they died before Harry reaches the age of eleven and finds out about the wizarding world. Second, they took in Sirius when he ran away at sixteen, he canonically went to live with James and Sirius cited no friction with the Potters. Third, James is their only son. Second, James married Lily Evans, a Muggle-born. Fourth, there's no pictures of Harry with his paternal grandparents at any point.

Now, if we scrape from Pottermore, we get more details that shockingly don't contradict what we see of Harry's background that he's vaguely aware of in canon.

The Potters are noted to historically being the odd ducks and essentially the Weasleys. They were dirt poor, backwater, and ideas about Muggle-borns and Muggles that no one agreed with (that were per the examples JKR gave er not as enlightened as she intended). However, Fleamont struck rich when, as an able potioneer, he produced a hair product that sold like fucking crazy. Everyone bought this stuff. And so, the Potter wealth was born, and Harry inherits gobs of galleons and is stupid rich.

Fleamont and Euphemia are also noted as having a child very late. This is because JKR is hilariously bad at math and keeps making 13-year-old fathers unintentionally (in my personal opinion she should own it) but in this case she makes Fleamont born before 1909 and James in 1960, so he's at least 51, at least. It's noted that they had given up on expecting to have a child.

They're noted as having died of dragon pox late enough to see James and Lily married but died before Harry was born so around 1980 at >= 68.

We also have a brother of Fleamont, Charlus, who is younger and marries Dorea Black. They have at least one child who will carry the Potter name, who would be around James's age, who we then never hear of. They do not ever reach out to Harry throughout the series nor does Harry ever learn of them.

So, where does that get us?

We're looking at a newly wealthy couple who have been iced out of most Pureblood friendships for a long time, who despite having pro-Muggle views don't really know anything about Muggles and were Pureblood until Lily Evans entered the picture, who have a single son who they cherish deeply and will let get away with nearly anything.

These are the kinds of people who believe that they should have helped the Muggle chaps out in WWI (never mind that it was a war about nothing, and it'd be needlessly escalating it into a wizard conflict about nothing), who talk about promoting the Muggle-borns, gladly have Lily Evans over for dinner, but quietly aren't thrilled that James married her and are very thinly smiling during the wedding. They're the kind who don't mind alienating the Blacks when they enable Sirius running away (or, again, aren't thrilled about it but it's James's best friend) and it explains a lot of James's behavior that he's the beloved charismatic only child who does no wrong and expects things to work out for him.

Lily Evans's Parents

These we have a bit less on.

We do know that no mention of him was made on where to send Harry nor do we ever see them canonically when we do see Aunt Marge. They are given no mention.

We do know the sisters had a strained relationship due to Lily's magic but we got no indication that there was any issue with the parents even with Lily basically receiving no education and disappearing for most of the year.

@therealvinelle and I tend to lean towards that her parents died at the very least before Harry was born if not when she was in school. Given they both suddenly disappear and are unlikely to have died of plague like James's parents, we typically have had them die in a car accident as that's something that would take them both out at once and potentially fuels the Dursley's "your parents die in a car accident".

In our fics this has fueled Petunia's hatred of her sister, beyond resentment, as Lily was unable to save her father who sustained brain damage in the accident and had to be pulled off life support.

We imagine an early expectation was placed on Lily by her parents that she catch up with her Muggle schooling in the summer, when they realize she's learning nothing, but this slowly fades as the years go by and Lily ends up feeling very alienated from her parents and her family in general.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #lily evans #james potter #anti james potter #fleamont potter #anti fleamont potter #euphemia potter #anti euphemia potter #meta #headcanon #opinion #vinelle #therealvinelle

[forestdeath1]

do you think james bullied snape because he was poor? do you think it had anything to do with classism?

Nope, I don't think so. When I first heard this version, I was really surprised. I think it comes from fanfiction? Some authors use the detail that if a child is rich, they will always bully the poor. That's not true.

We don't see any evidence that in the relationship between James+Sirius (why do they always forget about Sirius? He was very harsh verbally towards Snape and did it without much reason in his head) and Snape, there's anything related to Snape's poverty.

Here are a few reasons:

1. Sirius doesn't like the trappings of his family's wealth; he despises it. He's intentionally shown as the complete opposite of Lucius Malfoy (even their appearance, black and white, the most rebellious of purebloods and the most sycophantic, the one who values wealth and money and the one who despises it). Do you think he would love and be friends with someone who bullies others because of... money?! No way. It's actually pretty demeaning for the person themselves to brag about how much money they have. Considering how proud Sirius is, I doubt their bullying had anything to do with Snape's poverty.

And I think this Sirius's pride is partly seeded by his family. Because…

2. I think the Malfoys narratively were a bit the opposite of the Blacks in general. Their moneyed arrogance and bullying from Lucius and Draco - that's a pretty specific case, very similar to how some people think their money solves everything and defines who they are. The Malfoys are raised like that —they believe just having money makes them better than others. If we're talking about the old style upper class —it's not about thinking money makes you better, it's about how you're raised, what family you're born into, how you live, how you grow up – that's what makes you upper class, not your money. For wizards – their blood purity and loyalty to pureblood ideals. They might not even have much money, but they'd still be proud. Meanwhile, you might become rich, but you'll never become upper class. And it's pretty odd for this "class" to bully others based on money. The way the Malfoys do it is pretty crude and demeaning for themselves. In canon, it's well shown that the Malfoys are fixated on money. Whereas the Blacks aren't about money, but about their status. For the Blacks, it's all about status and primarily about blood purity. The Malfoys marry half-bloods, while the Blacks disown their children for wrong marriages.

3. I don't think wizards really have classes based on wealth.

(Also it’s pretty obvious but just in case, wizards don't have aristocracy in the traditional sense. After the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy, wizards don't have titles. Titles are purely a Muggle construct. Before the Statute, they existed, we know the Malfoys came with the Normans and were given lands. We know about the Bloody Baron. But there's no indication in canon of these aristocratic arrangements among wizards after the Statute (which, by its nature, implies service). The only lord among wizards was Voldemort. Because he called himself a lord. The fact that wizards deliberately don't use titles, even though the Malfoys had it, speaks only to one thing — the very idea of calling yourself by such titles is abhorrent to pure-blood wizards. It's a connection to Muggles and Muggle royalty. And being an aristocrat isn't just a privilege, it's also a duty.)

I think their upper class is pure-blood wizards. Their nobility is blood nobility. Their nobility was based on blood purity and loyalty to blood purity. They have a book called "Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy." So all their nobility — it's natural, inborn, blood, or rather pure-blood. But it's nowhere regulated, except in the minds of those pure-bloods. Their society is inequality in minds, where some consider themselves better than others.

Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.” (Professor Slughorn)

Even "not-biased" Slughorn was biased against muggleborns

They take a very harsh stance against "blood traitors". And true blood purists are much more tolerant of poverty if it's truly loyal to pureblood ideals (even families like the Gaunts). Blood is more important than money. The Black family tree has many marriages to different families, but not all of them are wealthy; it's impossible in their small society. I think, given how small wizarding society is, only three families were truly wealthy — the Blacks, the Malfoys, and the Lestranges. And I believe the Malfoys mostly gained their wealth from dealing with Muggles. Pure blood and being on the "Sacred 28" list doesn't make a family rich. Why if someone's in Slytherin, they're rich? Where did this wealth come from? In the Muggle world, this is understandable (but that's not always true either). But in the wizarding world? So it's a pretty weird trope that all Slytherins and pure-bloods are rich.

Wealth itself also doesn't make someone a member of the "upper class" in the wizarding world. No matter how wealthy you are, if you're a blood traitor or Muggle-born, then this pure-blood upper class won't accept you into their society.

Therefore, I believe bullying Snape had nothing to do with Snape being poor and classism.

There aren't that many rich people in the wizarding world.

Not everyone in Slytherin was wealthy. Their "upper class" is not related to wealth.

Sirius certainly didn't show any interest in wealth or judging people based on their money. The Blacks probably thought their blood was more important than any money.

James didn't show that either. Remus and Peter probably weren't rich, and they all got along fine.

All we know about James and his attitude towards money is this:

James was amused by Vernon, and made the mistake of showing it. Vernon tried to patronise James, asking what car he drove. James described his racing broom. Vernon supposed out loud that wizards had to live on unemployment benefit. James explained about Gringotts, and the fortune his parents had saved there, in solid gold. Vernon could not tell whether he was being made fun of or not, and grew angry. 

I don't see anything here that suggests James was intentionally trying to flaunt his wealth. It was a response to Vernon's assumption that they live on benefits. That wasn’t bullying. Sirius would hardly have said so, but James obviously didn't think talking about money was something embarrassing. But it's not bullying.

#sirius black #james potter #hp meta #sirius black meta #james potter meta #the noble and most ancient house of black #pureblood society

[solomons-poison]

Home Dates with Leonardo HC

Leonardo x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: This was a commission! @rinaririr requested some stay-at-home date ideas with Leonardo. I can definitely see him being able to create a fun date no matter where you are, no money or travel needed. I hope you enjoy!

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fluff, domestic cuteness, just Leo romancing you every way he knows how lol

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 1089

Leonardo is well-known to history as the Renaissance man, but he often still surprises others with just how much he can do. For the days when you don’t want to go out and spend money for a date, or there’s nothing particularly interesting in town, Leonardo has no trouble with making up for it with stay-at-home dates. He’s always a wealth of ideas and skills that you’re still discovering well into your relationship together, but he’s happy to either follow your suggestions or assist you with finding something to do together.

If you mention wanting to bake or cook with Leonardo, he is all for it. Even coming from a pureblood family and not having to eat to live, the man was still an Italian first, through and through. There’s plenty of cooking experience under his belt, recipes passed down in his family over the centuries as well as recipes he picked up from all the humans he’s befriended over time. He’s more than happy to teach you all the cooking or baking secrets passed down to him, everything from pasta dishes and soups to warm, herby bread and soft cakes.

Although he doesn’t seem like a cook from the get-go, he gets around the kitchen with practiced ease, ending up with a whole pile of delicious, homemade foods for the two of you to indulge in, not to mention that having two sets of hands makes the process go faster. It also lets him get closer to you, learning about your particular food tastes, your favorite dishes, favorite seasonings, etc., which he’s sure to memorize for next time. It definitely doesn’t escape you that he will be much flirtier than usual, calling you the usual “cara mia” but slipping in plenty of other endearing terms and compliments, too. Just the intimacy and the romance of it all will have you feeling like a married couple.

After food has been made, a painting picnic is in order. Although Vincent is typically the resident artist, Leo has no problems reminding you that he’s just as talented at the arts as anything else. He’ll pack supplies for your date, a couple small canvases, paints, brushes, easels, and of course some of the foods you two had made together. If the weather is good, he’ll take you to an open field to paint the wildflowers together, giving you painting tips or even giving you a painting challenge to see who can paint something the quickest. Of course, it’s not long before that challenge results in smudged paintings and plenty of laughs at your warped creations. You may or may not end up with some paint on your face or your clothes after some teasing jabs with the paintbrush.

If the weather is poor and rainy, then he’ll settle for painting at home. He’ll plan to either borrow Vincent’s room for the space or risk painting under the gazebo with you, listening to the sounds of the rain around you as he shows you some of his painting techniques. It may result in getting up close and personal, Leonardo coming up close behind you and guiding your hand, stating he’s only doing this to demonstrate effectively, teasing you if you get flustered. He’ll definitely let the sounds of the rain cover up any sneaky kisses he gives you.

It’s easy to get lost in the world of art with Leonardo as he keeps you distracted with plenty of town gossip and discussing plans for projects or what have you. As the day moves into evening, his next plan is for backyard camping. He’s always aware of the messy state of his room, so the camping idea is partly to avoid his room but also an excuse to keep you to himself. No need for fancy hotels or traveling very far, just a tent and some pillows and blankets brought out to a remote corner of the property to have some privacy.

There, hidden away from the world– and particularly, the other residents– Leonardo can cuddle with you as much as he’d like without any interruptions. He can complain about Comte to you, or silly things that the other mansion residents have done when they thought he wasn’t looking. Or he may borrow an instrument from Mozart and serenade you, give you your own mini concert. He’s picked up plenty of romantic songs over time, and it becomes his mission to woo you so completely until you’re thinking of nothing but him.

As it gets darker outside, he may borrow Isaac’s telescope to do some star watching with you. He’s learned about numerous constellations, both from his own studies as well as from the many books he’s read, and the difference in light pollution from this era versus modern day means you can see the stars wonderfully. If you’re interested, he’ll even tell you about some of the mythology connected to the constellations, surprising you with his boundless knowledge on Greek myths, Egyptian myths, etc. Regardless of whether you can see those particular constellations from where you are, his descriptions of the stars are enough to make an image in your mind. You can definitely tell when he steers towards any romantic mythology, but for the most part, he gets absorbed into sharing his knowledge with you, just rambling on until he’s done.

Finally, as the night gets cold and he’s run out of things to share with you, he of course recommends finishing your home date with a visit to Le Thermae. It’s practically like a spa date, with Leonardo bringing you scented items such as oils to make you smell good and help you relax. He even has a pair of fluffy robes to wear afterwards, the very height of luxury. Whether you two want it to end on a spicy note or not, he’s okay with either, but mostly, he just wants to hold you close in his arms as the water warms you both up from the chilly night air. However, if things between you two start to get a little handsy, he’s not complaining. Regardless, so long as the night ends with you two warmed to the core and in each other’s arms, he’s happy. And once you two are out of the bath, clean and dry, he’s making sure to bundle up with you in either his room or yours, delivering some final kisses before settling in to sleep. All in all, he’s making sure that your stay-at-home date is as fulfilling as anything you could do outdoors.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! If you'd like to commission me, please send me a DM!

#leonardo x reader #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp hcs #ikevamp fluff

[teacup-gathering-itself]

god I just love the idea of power couple Lucius and Narcissa. Bc there’s no WAY they weren’t the it couple when they were in school. Give me House of Black and House Malfoy alliance and brilliant slytherin students just quietly being the example of traditional pureblood culture. No need to make it political yet, but just a historical couple with a different air about them.

I’m talking the clothes with hints to their ancestry, bobbins and trinkets centuries old, family jewelry, lavish courting gifts, the most intricate etiquette, loving looks across the hallways, whispered adorations, interlocked pinkies, love letters, imported snacks being slipped into book bags, pieces of commissioned music, bespoke clothes with no price tag bc if you need to ask, you can’t afford it.

Just let them be young and falling in love with a modest amount of distance and an overwhelming amount of vanity and money. They’re sneaky, with unmatched pedigrees, and they breathe traditions millennia old, their journey from being paired for marriage by their families to falling in love is FASCINATING.

I want to see what unspeakable wealth looks like when it marries other unspeakable wealth and then falls head over heels. Like. The possibilities for romantic gestures are literally endless. What is considered too much? They’re a wonderful way for my brain to explore pureblood high society and a quieter, more subtle sequence of romance.

just imagining their courting period and engagement let alone the event of the decade: that WEDDING. Lord.

#harry potter thoughts #lucius malfoy #narcissa black #narcissa malfoy #lucius x narcissa #pureblood culture #hp imagine #marauders

[mrsmikaelsxn]

Water Fountain Kisses

masterlist

pairing: sirius black x female reader

warnings: smoking, drinking, fluff, kissing

summary: you and sirius were at another one of his family's pureblood balls, you never spoke much to one another, but that doesn't mean you both weren't attracted to each other

a/n: ah i love ben barnes so much

song: water fountain - alec benjamin

"Not enjoying the party either, love?" Sirius Blacks voice comes on your left. He drops himself on the couch next to you, whom was looking boredom.

"Nope," you sigh, turning yourself to look at him. "You clean up well," you compliment.

"I think that's the nicest thing you have ever said to me," he grins as he takes another sip of his alcohol.

"Yeah, well, don't get cocky about it, Black," you bump shoulders with him playfully.

"I find the way you reject all of them men that come up to you amusing," he grins, trying to push the annoyance that he feels from other guys talking to you down.

His eyes have been on you all night, as he tuned out other girls who were trying to throw themselves at him. The way the corset under your dress you had to wear hugged your waist, pushing your breasts up as they sit perfectly. Your silk black gown with a v-neck that leaves little to the imagination, shows off your figure in ways that have people on their knees for you.

Your hair was neatly pulled into a slick ponytail that showed off your smooth neck - skin Sirius longs to have his lips on - and shoulders.

You had your makeup done in a way that makes your beautiful face features stand out.

Sirius believed you were a goddess. He was glad you hadn't noticed him drooling over you throughout the ball.

"They are all too boring," you breathe out. "They all either want me for my looks, my family's wealth, or both," you roll your eyes. "My parents intended for me to find someone I'd be willing to marry, tonight," you drop your head.

"That's ridiculous!"

"That's what I said. Tip, don't say that to your parents, you won't get a good response in return," you wince. Sirius understands what it's like, he was glad that the few times you've talked, you were able to relate to him.

"How about we get away from here and get some fresh air outside?"

You nod your head and he stands up and holds out his hand. You grin, shaking your head as you place your soft hand in his.

Then a nice summer night breeze sweeps over the two of you as you go and sit on a pretty water fountain that had recently been put there.

You both take a seat and look up, it was a clear sky tonight and you had a good view of stars and constellations.

"That star over there is the Sirius star," he mentions as he holds is arm up to point at it. "It's the brightest star," he grins.

"I know," you smile softly at him.

You go into a comfortable silence and he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"Did I mention how perfect you are, love?" Sirius asks quietly, turning to look at you. You turn your face towards his and just realize the small proximity between you both.

"Nope. Did I mention how pretty you are?"

He lightly laughs and smiles at you while leaning closer to you.

His lips brush against yours and you suck in a breath. His eyes are glued to your lips and he quickly glances up at your eyes, asking for permission.

You give a quick small nod, and that's all it takes for him to bring his mouth to yours. He's sure his knees would have given out if he wasn't sitting down.

He could have died on the spot. He has had many different scenarios on how you two would have your first kiss together. But none of them compared to how he was feeling now.

Your lips molded against his as you leaned into him with your hands combing through his hair. His hands were tight on your waist, as if you were going to disappear if he let go, and he pulled you closer to him if that was even possible.

His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, pleading for you to open your mouth. You did and his tongue explored your mouth, you tasted like strawberries and vanilla.

He wished he could kiss you forever. This kiss has ruined every other girl for him, nothing would be better than you and he was sure of that.

You heard a door open not too far, so you pulled back, your breaths still mixing at the closeness of your faces.

He gazes at your eyes, they sparkle from the moonlight and seem to be full of joy.

"I think we should go back inside, someone could see us," you whisper, wishing your lips could be on his again.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right"

You go to stand up but he gently grabs your wrist. "Would you go out with me, darling?"

"It would be my pleasure," you smile and peck his lips. His face lights up and a grin comes onto his face. He can't wait to tell his friends about this, they're the only ones who've known how long he had a crush on you.

"I'll take you for dinner next Friday, if you're available," he says.

"I'd go any day you asked," you reply. You grab his hand and pull him back to the party, where the two of you dance and enjoy each other's presence for the rest of the night.

#nina writes 🤭💗 #harry potter #sirius black #marauders #marauders fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #harry potter x you #hogwarts #fluff #harry potter fluff #sirius black fluff #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfiction #sirius orion black #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ball #party #black family

[neaverse]

i am here asking for your favorite fics (i can tell you have good taste<3) 🫶

hi bella!!! thank you for the ask<33

okay so i read a lot. When i say a lot i mean a lot. The amount of fanfiction i’ve consumed in the last three years is probably unhealthy, but what can i say really? I don’t have much going on in my life🤷🏼‍♀️

so going into this, i contemplated how i should categorise my favourites. Current favs? Fav fics per ship? In the end, i decided to simply compile a list of fics that i still think about weeks and months (if not years) after i first read them. Fics that punched me in the gut, fics that made me question my whole existence. I could probably go on forever with this list but i’ve narrowed it down to 10 to make the job a little bit easier for both me and you hahaha!

In no particular order:

The World Is A Violent Sky by anonymous

Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations.

Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

Regulus Black was fifteen the first time his name was called at a reaping. He's twenty-five when it happens to him again. A lot has changed in that time, and one of them is that he's ready to do whatever it takes to make it home. Nothing or no one will stop him, not even James Potter. James Potter has no plans to stop Regulus Black from making it home. In fact, his plans revolve around the opposite. He has his reasons, but he's made his choice to get Regulus out of the arena, even knowing it'll be the last thing he ever does. Sirius Black was sixteen when he volunteered to take his little brother's place in the arena. At twenty-six, without the option to do it again, he has no choice but to be a mentor to his brother and best friend, knowing that only one of them can make it back out. Two names called, a mentor on the verge of falling apart, and more secrets and grief between all of them than they know how to handle. None of them are prepared for what comes next, or how far they'll go to make it through.

Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by @sobsicles

When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn't as black and white as it seems. Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options. Harry's life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment.

Art Heist, Baby! by @otrtbs

When James Potter answers a mysterious ad in his local coffee shop, the last thing he expects is to be thrown into a world of white collar crime, but how can he resist when the mastermind behind the operation has dark hair and brooding eyes and promises wealth beyond James' wildest imagination? He would do anything for that boy named after a star, including stealing millions of dollars of fine art.

Orion in the Sky by space_wingding

Draco Malfoy owns a bookshop in the Lake District. He’s also cursed. Enter: Harry Potter.

Berlin Angel by @de-sire-blog

Berlin is absolutely miserable in February. Or it’s just Sirius. Alternatively: A story of how Remus Lupin stepped into Sirius’ life, flashed his trademark grin, and reminded him that life is a beautiful thing meant to be enjoyed. No risk, no fun!

Stop All the Clocks (This Is the Last Time I’m Leaving Without You) by firethesound

Living with Draco was difficult; living without him is unbearable. But if there’s one thing Harry learned from the war, it’s that even when one life ends, the rest of the world goes right on living.

Dear Reader by @calamitoustide

never take advice from someone who's falling apart Regulus has been quite obsessed with this anonymous advice blogger Helios and becomes concerned when they begin to post cryptically to an unspecified “Reader” At the same time, he’s starting Uni and has to deal with his brother being back in his life and a certain boy he won’t leave him alone.

Starvin’ darlin’ by @showinalittlelife

The man suddenly drops the knife, he sighs like all his dreams have been crushed. “Oh, dear, I can’t eat you! You’re rotting! What a shame, thought I’d found a looker too,” he whines miserably. The thoughts in Evan’s mind are racing too fast for him to make any sense of them. He has so many questions—too many questions that are probably better left off unanswered, but before he can think properly, he opens his mouth and speaks. “You think I’m a looker?” or: Barty is a cannibal, Evan is dying and they go on a little road trip!

Running on Air by eleventy7

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

#mail 💌 #Bella tag<33 #I had a really hard time sticking with only 10 tho #there are sooo many amazing fics and writers out there #wish I could include everyone in this list🥺 #jegulus #wolfstar #drarry #rosekiller #marauders #regulus black #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #harry potter #harry james potter #draco malfoy

[letstrythisout4]

Malfoy's post-war

HP Masterlist

Here is a follow up post with some clarification:

My thoughts:

Narcissa’s betrayal, she looked Voldemort in the eyes and lied, for her son, she could have died, she risked her life her family's life, just to have information on whether or not Draco is alive…even if she wholeheartedly believes in blood supremacy she isn't willing to put it above her son. …that leaves a lot of room for growth and I need more fanfiction writers to take advantage of that.

I like to believe that the same applies to Lucius - that while he definitely has been a blood supremacist for sure that's explicit in canon. But again his son opens room for their growth. 

So does you know… the literal WAR they lived through.

You can not convince me that seeing their son suffer in the name of blood supremacy didn’t shake their beliefs. They aren’t like Bellatrix who is wholeheartedly devoted. They have a child whom they love and spoil, that they raised and I feel like one of the main themes of harry potter is the love between parent and child and how it can lead to betterment and protection. So why the hell can’t that apply to the Malfoys. They threw everything away when Narcissa chose to lie to Voldemort. Because, in my mind, the fact that she lied is enough to get her out of facing legal action (aka AZKABAN). Which would likely be public knowledge (either the Ministry leaking that enough or someone leaking it themselves) which would destroy their image in the eyes of those who were entirely devoted to Voldemort. Now that doesn’t mean they lose all social standing no no no no, let's not forget that self-preservation is a common slytherin trait. Lets not also forget that the Malfoys…are rich. And (I imagine) have their hands in everything from businesses to politics. (I imagine) That trying to cut out the Malfoys from pureblood society would be like them literally shooting themselves in the foot ESPECIALLY SINCE POST-WAR HALF OF THAT PUREBLOOD GENERATION IS GONNA BE AZKABAN. No no no, I think the Malfoys are going to gain even more social standing as they are probably going to be one of the few pureblood families that make it out of the war without being killed or sent to Azkaban (in case it isn't clear I don’t think they’ll get sent to Azkaban because of Narcissa and Draco’s actions that aided Harry… also, money). If anything I could see them taking advantage of the post-war madness to get into the good graces of people on both sides of the war. The Malfoys (again) are rich. (In my mind) they are so rich, that it is totally plausible for them to remain as one of the richest pureblood families (the Zabini’s are up there to) even though they will likely be fined heavily by the Minister for like…reparations from their part in the war (idk what to call it by yk what I mean). I could see them using their wealth to aid those who fought in the war and desperately needed money, with the promise of no alternative motives and tones of genuine remorse for their actions. Partially because they are horrified by how bad the war got, how involved Draco got but also because you know…providing financial aid when you aren’t required to…isn't a bad thing for your public image. I DON’T KNOW I DON'T KNOW maybe I’m just yapping but that's what I think the actions of the Malfoy Family post war would be.

Authors notes: this chapter was fun. from now on updates are going to be slow but im going to do my best to upload at least 2 times a week so yeah.

#draco malfoy #narcissa malfoy #lucius malfoy #slytherin boys #slytherin #i want complex slytherins #harry potter

[in-flvx]

Some thoughts on the pureblood society, old money and their actual wealth

We know that being pureblood in the Wizarding world is equivalent to high status. This isn't in any form a new observation.

But the thing is, that this status is in no way indicative of actual wealth. The Gaunts had no funds, at all, their most priced possessions were the wand marvolo uses and the peverell ring. The weasleys are far enough away from that, that all of their children had access to education and to never starve.

The malfoys are one of two Wizarding family who we see to be visibly wealthy: with their peacock breeding, high quality broomsticks for an entire quidditch team and a giant manor in the country side. The other family are the Lestranges - we see the inside of their vault in DH. And two of the Black cousins married into those obviously wealthy families. At least Bellatrix' marriage seems like one of convenience more than anything else. Narcissa loves at least her son, on her relationship with Lucius we can only guess.

Now. The Black family are different. Grimmauld Place 12 shows generational wealth - but it's their only residence and it's a townhouse (which isn't to say these aren't expensive but it's not a manor either). It's infested and breaking apart. Their generational wealth shows in their family crest, motto and tapestry. Meanwhile Sirius says that his parents were 'convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal', which I find notable bc of the 'convinced' and 'practically'. For one it shows Sirius' disillusionment with the notion, the lack of literal royalty in the Wizarding world and possibly also that his parents were clamoring to their heritage more than anything else. Which sounds very much to the Gaunts view on the matter.

Now to their actual wealth. We obviously don't have any numbers, but two adjectives for two different inheritances.

Sirius says his uncle alphard left him a decent amount of gold; later Harry inherites from sirius a reasonable amount of gold in vault 711 (as well as the house and kreacher, just to underline that gp12 was actually the only house that the family owned), and while neither of these words have actual numbers fixed to them, I'd say that's still pretty far from the amount of wealth we see in the lestranges vault.

Apropos vaults: Sirius owns vault 711, which is two vaults up from vault 713 - the one containing the philosopher's stone. That vault is somewhat further down in the ground, and more highly protected, by magic rather than a key like Harry's, but in description it's very similar both Harry's and the weasleys vault.

Meanwhile the lestranges vault is not only gigantic, it's also far deeper underground, close to the dragons and behind the magical waterfall that stops any magic from working.

#sirius black #Wealth in the Wizarding world #HP meta #the ancient and most noble house of black #The failing house of Black

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Hello!!! First, happy belated birthday!!!!!

I wanted to ask you a question:

Would Draco care that his parents are obsessed with Harry's Darling Aunt? Would they convince him that Harry's Muggle Aunt might be his other mother or something similar, like she's the only muggle that's free of the whole "dirty blood" thing or similar?

Would he be excited about having another mum? Having close kid on his age to be his cousin?

I remembered when he was younger, as he was really looking forward to being Harry's friend. Quite excited.

Would he convince Harry that his Muggle aunt would be safe with his parents if they were in a relationship?

Because I can see a little Draco, pulling out the magical version of a PPT, showing an interested little Harry all the benefits his Muggle Aunt would have if she married his parents. From Malfoy wealth, to the possibility of being inside the magical world and being closer to Harry as he wouldn't be in the Muggle part of the UK. Being almost immune to all the "dangers".

"My father can take her to the parents' meeting every month at the castle!!! and then we could eat sweets with her while my father watches the boring stuff! The possibilities are endless, Potter!"

(Hi! Thank you so much!)

It would depend on when Muggle!Aunt!Reader comes into the Malfoy’s lives. If it’s early on, in Draco and Harry’s younger years, then he’d be more likely to accept and go with the situation without so much as a fight. As long as his mother and father said it was fine then it was. Now, if Draco was older than he’d heavily question them, not accepting or tolerating the idea. Either way though, Lucius and Narcissa would convince and assure him until he was comfortable or at the least able to bare with it. Their main excuse being that the Reader was an exception to the whole ‘dirty blood’ thing.

I personally think that Draco would quite enjoy the additional attention and love that Muggle!Aunt!Reader would spoil him with. As well as having a kind of friend/sibling in Harry. Of course the two would still keep up with their rivalry when back at Hogwarts but when they were home they were much friendlier, especially if the Reader really wanted them to get along.

Once Draco grows attached he’ll do whatever to keep Muggle!Aunt!Reader with him and his family. He’d convince whoever he had to and if that was Harry then so be it. Draco would emphasize just how much more well protected and cared for the Reader would be with his family. And it’s a lot more than what Harry can achieve on his own.

Honestly, I have so many different ideas for how Muggle!Aunt!Reader ends up with yandere Malfoy’s. They mostly revolve around if Reader got their letter and attended Hogwarts. After their time at Hogwarts the Reader comes back to be a teacher. They’re not only there for Harry when it’s his time to attend but also the other students in general. Especially Draco. Like, imagine if Draco came home for summer break or the holidays one year and is desperate to set up/convince his parents to be with Muggle!Aunt!Reader. He would definitely use the argument that they were the only exception to being a ‘mudblood’.

Another headcanon of mine is that when the Reader gets their letter and attends Hogwarts maybe they end up sorted into Slytherin (much to Lily’s horror). It gives a good excuse/reason for Lucius and Narcissa to end up interacting with or at least being around the Reader. Eventually the Reader gains their affections and the two excuse bringing them into their relationship as keeping the Reader as a pet but it’s really just a cover, a way to save face with the other purebloods. Meanwhile the Reader would be genuinely loved and cared for behind closed doors, spoiled with everything Lucius and Narcissa have to offer.

#yandere harry potter #yandere draco malfoy #yandere lucius malfoy #yandere narcissa black #yandere harry potter concept #yandere concept