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chdarling · 3 years

Note

Do you have your muggle au version of James and Lily? It doesn’t have to be like written in a sheet of paper or in your pc, just like thoughts that say “my muggle Lily would do this for a living” etc. (also I have the anon because I don’t have tumblr but I am thinking to download the app because I asked you so many questions and I have lots more, I am really curious about your way of thinking and of developing a character)

I love you, dear anon, for sending me such interesting and thought-provoking questions! (also I’m incredibly flattered that you’re interested in my thoughts and if you do make a tumblr please let me know because I’d love to follow you! ❤️)

I have to be honest, before this ask I really hadn’t thought too much about my idea of a Muggle AU at all. But now that you’ve put the bug in my brain, I just spent an entire cup of tea sitting here brainstorming. 😂

Here’s what I came up with... (Heads up: I got carried away. Big surprise, I know.)

Lily is an art student at the University of Hogwarts. It’s a very prestigious, expensive university, and the only reason Lily can attend is because she’s on scholarship (The Horace E.F. Slughorn Memorial Foundation for the Arts).

Her older sister is very resentful of this. The girls were raised by a single mother (their father died when Lily was seven, a heart attack, very sudden, very shocking), and money was always tight. Petunia didn’t even apply to university, but instead got a secretary job straight out of school to help support their mother. (Petunia is now engaged to her boss’s son and is quite pleased with herself over this state of affairs.) Petunia feels that if Lily gets to go university (something she secretly really wanted to do), she should at least pursue a useful subject that would lead to a genuine career, not idly fritter away her days as an art freak.

But Lily got her scholarship for painting and its painting she intends to do. With her meager stipend, she’s able to rent out a rather shabby attic flat from an odd, elderly woman named Mrs. Figg. They get on well enough. Lily doesn’t mind the constant company of cats who don’t seem to respect the landlord/tenant boundary (all rooms belong to cats), and Mrs. Figg is deaf enough that she doesn’t mind Lily blasting Taylor Swift at 2 a.m. in the midst of a wild burst of creativity/insomnia.

The flat has very little furniture — just a bed shoved in the corner and an old armchair with the upholstery all shredded (see: cats), but Lily sort of loves it, because it’s the first place she’s ever had that was hers and hers alone. She fills the mini-fridge with takeout Thai food and fills the walls with half-painted canvases and fills herself with gratitude for this opportunity, this freedom. She has at least one painting that is done entirely in sepia tones because she spilled a cup of tea on the canvas and just decided to go with it (she spills tea on everything). She’s the kind of girl who keeps a paintbrush tucked behind her ear and then wonders where it went and why her hair is blue.

She’s also really into plants and herb lore. She has loads of books on the subject (all stacked in tottering piles around the flat because she’d rather spend her limited money on books than bookshelves) Her windows are constantly filled with cuttings she’s trying to propagate, and she lucked into a coveted plot in the local community garden, where you can find her most afternoons, covered in dirt, cultivating veggies and herbs and tall stalks of sunflowers. She’s the girl who is convinced she can cure whatever ails you with just the right brew of herbal tea (and weirdly she’s usually right).

She reads tarot and hoards essential oils and also makes her own candles with wax she steals from the textiles department.

Though she plays the role of the bohemian well, Lily is just a little insecure about her broke, scholarship student status because most of her friends at school are quite wealthy. She hides this vulnerability with a defiant, cheeky persona that wins her plenty of admirers, but leaves her feeling somewhat lonely and isolated from the rest of her peers all the same.

Thus it is a bit of a relief when she meets the brooding Philosophy student Severus Snape at one of those horrible events they make all the scholarship kids go to so they can show you off to the rich donors and make sure you’re appropriately grateful. Severus is also a scholarship kid and even more broke than her. They become fast friends and though he has some weird political ideas and reads some rather concerning philosophical texts (he insists it’s just for school), he’s funny (in a dark way) and really smart and he cares about her, and it’s just wonderful to have someone around whom she doesn’t have to constantly pretend or be on the defense. Rich kids can be brutal.

It takes her just a little too long to recognize how much his care is actually control. When he joins up with an alt-right political group on campus, however, things start to get a little dicey…

James, on the other hand, is one of those rich kids she’s so uncomfortable around. He’s a trust fund baby, and also the star of the university’s football team. He’s your typical popular jock archetype, except that he’s also pre-med and absolutely determined to become a doctor. (You’ll pry Healer James from my cold, dead hands.) This is because one of his closest friends (moody History major Remus Lupin) has a chronic illness and the more James has had to learn about what his friend goes through, the more infuriated he’s become with how the medical community has failed him.

As one of the richest kids in a very rich school, James has stupid amounts of money at his disposal, so he bought a big, beautiful old house near campus that he lets all his friends live in rent free. These friends include:

- Remus Lupin, the aforementioned moody History major.

- Sirius Black, an ex-rich kid whose parents cut him off when he decided to study music instead of political science (his dad is a right-wing politician who wanted him to follow in his footsteps oh nooo). Also his bitchy cousin outing him to his dad might’ve had something to do with it :(

- Peter Pettigrew, still an undecided major three years in, oh dear. Really good at procuring beer for parties though.

Everyone on campus knows who James Potter is, and everyone generally likes him. For one thing, he throws excellent parties in that big old house of his. It is at one of these parties where Lily meets James for the first time. It’s not exactly a meet-cute. James is very rude to Severus, and Lily decides she’s gonna hate that pretentious, snobby, arrogant trust fund baby for the rest of her days, so help her god.

Ahem.

Okay I am totally getting carried away so I’m going to stop here. But this was SUCH a fun exercise and it may or may not one day be the basis of the texting fic I long to write 😂

Thanks so much for such the super fun ask, anon ❤️

#fuck fuck fuck i wanna write it #everyone needs to stop giving me new ideas until I finish TLE2!!!!!#jk jk anon #it's not your fault my brain is Like This #ch answers #jily #muggle AU

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timeforelfnonsense · 3 years

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Bound

Dafni x Astartion || Rating: E (very spicy: See Ao3 tags for a run down ) || Ao3 || Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series

Notes: Sub & dom Astarion all in one fic? Maybe so. Shadowheart's off-handed line about the PC tying her up if she started to turn inspired this filth (I'm sure she'd be loathed to know that). I'm also a fan of the sexy misuse of spells and hadn't written femme dom in a while. It was a perfect storm. Evlish Translations: Qu tel sy- Bindings of the wilds

Astarion watched Dafni’s dainty fingers casually trace an arcane pattern in the empty space before her.

“Qu tel sy” Her voice wavered a bit in its attempt at sounding commanding.

Cute.

Tendrils of jasmine vine sprung from the earth below him winding up his biceps binding him at the wrist. He’d heard her make a sharp quip about tying Shadowheart up that afternoon. The comment had worked his way into his mind. He was normally much more interested in taking the lead but the idea of playful, defiant Dafni taking control was rather enticing. A fantasy worth indulging in at least once.

“Comfy?” She asked, her head tilting to one side.

“Very.”

With a nod, she began to leisurely undress herself. His hungry gaze followed her dainty fingers as they came to the tan leather straps that kept her breastplate fastened. She took her time with each buckle admiring the tiny floral etchings as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Slowly she shrugged herself free. Carefully laying it down beside her long sword and bow. Next, she set herself to the thin metal plates that protected her knees, removing them and adding them to the neat pile.

“You are taking forever, Daffodil.” He complained.

“I could go slower?” She retorted leaning over as she slid her hands down her thigh to her cave.

“No. No, take your time I’ll just be making a mental note of what a terrible pricktease you are being.”

Dafni rolled her eyes, tugging off her boots. Her fingers toyed with the laces of her breaches before moving to the pearl buttons at the wrist of her tapered bell sleeve.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day.” She mused, halting her undressing once more, “Can you really not see your own reflection?” Astarion let out a frustrated breath. He should have expected her to drag it out. The little puck! Really he’d walked right into this. He tried to pull his hands free of their bindings so he could have her and be done with this gods’ damned teasing but she only waved her hand casually, causing the vines to pull him firmly to the ground. “My, my someone is impatient! I believe I asked a question?”

“I really can’t.”

“So, you don’t know what you look like?” She inquired.

“I’m sure right now I look rather annoyed.” He quipped back.

“I’m being serious.”

Oh no.

Not the pout!

Her lower lip jut out ever so slightly. Her eyebrows began to stitch and his heart threatened to melt into a puddle. He was certain she knew he’d cave if she gave him that look. He had been able to resist when they’d first met but lately that quivering lip was a sure-fire path to getting her way.

“Ugh- Alright! I'll indulge you! Little brat...” He said with a stroppy huff, “I have a general idea of how I looked before. Lacking any evidence to the contrary, I just assume I look amazing.”

“Dear me!” She tuted with a chime of silver-toned laughter, “So cocksure. You satisfied my curiosity-” A coy smile flashed across her face, “For now anyway. I think that deserves a reward.”

She brought her hands behind her neck unbuttoning collar, tugging her blouse over the top of her head. Astarion gave a weak attempt at silencing a low snicker as the fabric got caught on the long line of her ears in her haste. An adorable pink bloomed across the apples of her rounded cheeks. Her fingers returned to the satin ribbon at the front of her pants once more, shimmying her wide, seductive hips as she slipped them off.

His breath caught in his chest as he drank her in. She was eternal in the warm candlelight. A goddess all his own. Plump curves. Full breasts. Her loose curls cascading down her back like a river of rose petals. Freckles like flecks of gold covering her soft, kissable skin. She looked like a dream, dressed in nothing but her smalls and the crescent pendant that hung from her neck. The cool evening air danced across her bare sink prompting a tiny shiver from Dafni. Her nipples hardened as goosebumps broke out across her exposed skin.

“You are outstandingly beautiful, to confirm your suspicions.” She hummed straddling his hips. He could feel her warm core against his length through the thin fabric of her panties. He pressed himself against her, rocking slowly against her cotton clad folds. She gave a delighted squeak, wiggling against the solid pressure of his erection. “ I wish I could draw so you could see for yourself. Unfortunately, I’m hopeless with bush and canvas. I am quite good with gab, however. I could paint you a picture with words instead? Would you like that?”

He’d be lying if he claimed to have never been curious about his own appearance. He had a few memories of his mortal countenance. But like the majority of his past time and torment had left them hazy and abstract. He’d definitely had a little more color in life. He could recall being fair but not quite so cadaverously pale. His eyes would have been the most severe change, save the fangs. He’d seen the same haunting scarlet in the irises of every vampiric creature he’d met. He flitted through his thoughts trying to recall their previous color. Knowing Dafni she’d eventually ask him, if not now later on one of her whimsical larks. He was somewhat sure they had been green? Her offer seemed more and more appealing as his mind shifted through faint, crumbing memories. It would be fascinating to hear what parts of him she’d taken particular notice of. Moreover, Dafni had the remarkable ability to see the absolute best in everything. His appearance would likely be much the same and what man wouldn’t want the object of his desire to spoil him with compliments?

“Go on.” He affirmed with another eager roll of his hips against the growing wetness between her legs.

“Very well. You have a strong, angular jaw and perfect cheekbones. You have a little birthmark riiiiiight- Here!” Dafni explained, noting the spot on his cheek with a peck, “You have the most heartbreakingly handsome grin I’ve ever seen. Your nose is very straight. I can tell you weren’t in many bar fights!” She giggled, tapping the tip of his nose with her index finger. Astarion scrunched his nose in response prompting another musical laugh from Dafni. Followed by a long, slow kiss to his lips. He slid the edge of his tongue along the seam of her lips. A dissatisfied curse escaped him as she pulled back. Dafni only continued to beam with bemusement at his wanting. She brought a hand to a stray lock of hair that had fallen into his face. She wound the curl around her fingertip before sliding her fingers through his hair. Tugging softly at the root as she pushed it back. “Your hair is the color of moonlight. Your eyes are my favorite, though. So striking… The color of fine claret. Expressive too! If I want to know your mood I can always see it in your eyes. Or by the tips of your ears. They go pink when you are flustered. It’s faint but I’ve spent enough time admiring you to notice.” She nibbled his ear to emphasize her point, drawing a quiet whimper from Astarion. She kissed her way back down his body pausing on the hollow of his neck and collar bones. “You’ve always reminded me of the statues of the first elves we had in Peleira. Awe-inspiring figures cut from marble and alabaster. Trim and regal just like you.” She slid off his hips, kidding each rib on the right side of his body before settling between his thighs. Her soft hand wrapping around his member. A needy growl fell from his lips as she began her lazy pumping. She let out a playful chime of laughter before running her tongue along the underside of his shaft. “And of course your cock is absolutely glorious! So long with a slight curve that hits all my secret places. While I’m not the inexperienced maiden you hilariously mistook me for but, you do make me feel as if I were. You make sex feel new and exciting, Astarion. You make my life exciting all around. Normally my fancies come and go with haste, but I can’t imagine myself ever growing bored with you. I’ve never had a lover hold my attention as you do.”

Her adoring plaudits were overwhelming. Each comment was painfully sincere. Her free hand drifted between her own legs. The licentious mewls she made as her fingers toyed with herself made him even harder. His mind was swimming with desire. He wanted nothing more than to plunge into her snug, wet sheath. She must have seen the hunger in his expression. His body went taut as he felt her soft lips around him. Gods he wanted to touch her! To sink his fingers into her soft curls while she worshiped his cock. His hips bucked against her mouth as instinct took over. The sweet vibration of her giggle sending a shiver down his spine. He almost didn’t notice the feeling of more plant life ensnaring him, ankle to the shin. He could feel himself swiftly approaching the brink as she teases his tip.

“Daffodil…” His voice came out in a strained whisper, “You’ll need to stop soon. I’d still like to have you in other ways.” With a hum of understanding, she removed him from her mouth with a soft pop. Her thumbs hooked the edges of her underwear removing it in one quick movement. His wrist strained against his bindings as he attempted to reach for her hips. “Wait a moment. I want to taste you first.”

“You want me to unbind you?” She asked.

“I didn’t say that.” He chuckled a playful half-smile on his lips.

“Oh.”

Dafni’s belly flipped when she heard his request. The embers of confidence smothered by her own insecurities. She’d had her fair share of lovers between her thighs but she’d never like...That. Astarion was so lithe. She didn’t want to smother him!

“You can say no, darling.” He reassured, “However if you are worried about hurting me, don’t be.”

Nibbling her lower lip as a hot flush broke out across her naked body. “How did you know?”

“You have the same needlessly embarrassed look on your face as you did when I picked you up in the forest.” He sighed, continuing, “It's fairly common anxiety as well. I promise I’ll be perfectly fine. Besides if you accidentally suffocate me you’ll have to go fetch an emergency revivify scroll from Shadowheart and the thought of her reaction when you told her how I died is positively delightful!”

Dafni tried to hold in her laughter but it came out in a snort, “You are awful! What if she wanted to see your body?”

“Gods, I hope she would! Can you imagine her shock? Finding me all tressed up in jasmine after meeting my untimely end betwixt your gorgeous thighs!” He stated with a mirthful grin, “This all hypothetical of course. I fully expect you’ll be the only one to experience a little death from sitting on my face.”

Dafni felt her nerves steadying with his gentle taunting. She couldn’t decide if she was touched or mortified that he’d taken note of her insecurities. She’d never voiced them but he had been perspective enough to notice the little changes in her demeanor. He had a knack for catching on to the little things other people tried to hide. Part of the ‘wiles’ that had kept him alive for the past few centuries. She supposed his perceptiveness was the flip side of his secretary. Both had been informed by a difficult life.

She brushed her lips against his. Their foreheads pressed against one another. “Alright.”

Dafni steeled herself as she settled her thighs on either side of him. Ever so slowly she lowered herself towards his smirking mouth.

Oh wow.

All the worry slipped away with the first pass of his cool tongue along her slit. A lewd gasp broke free from her as he sealed his lips over her clit. Sucking and teasing her to delirium. Her hips grew a will of their own rocking forward, chasing the electrifying sensation. Her squirming only seemed to embolden him. His attention shifted to the mouth of her arousal. His tongue eagerly exploring her dripping center. Her confidence returning with each dizzying lick. She thought she’d feel ridiculous perched on top of him. The sight of Astarion happily ravaging her with his mouth left her feeling empowered and needy.

“Gods that’s good!” She whimpered rutting against him, “I-Wow… I kind of want to keep you here a forever.” She tugged at the roots of his soft curls pulling him deeper into her arousal. Promoting a delighted purr from Astarion as he continued to lap away at her quim. “Keep going! I’m so close...Ah! Astarion! Please! More!” A few more skillful sweeps of his tongue and the hot coil of building pleasure snapped loose. She hadn’t meant for the lamentation that followed to come out at such a high volume. She normally tried to be courteous of their friends. It was close quarters and they would likely not enjoy her keening half as much as Astarion did. She bit down her lip quieting another cry as the tempest of exaltation mixed with the sharp sensation of his teeth on her inner thigh. After a few swallows, he brushed his lips over the wound in a chaste kiss. She climbed down from her seat, flopping down on his cool chest. Her breath coming out in ragged heaves. “That was life-changing.”

She glanced up finding him staring with even more hunger than usual. His chin shimmering with slick. Lips stained red by her blood and his eyes alight with impatient longing.

“Years of practice.” He stated with a wicked grin, “Now if you’d be kind enough to free me, Daffodil? If I don’t have my way with you this instant, I might be driven mad.”

She nodded climbing off his chest to receive one of his daggers from his things. She carefully cut away the blossoms and vines that held him prone. As soon as the blade cleared the twist of greenery, he pounced, laying her out on her stomach. Dafni let out a peal of amusement, propping herself up slightly on her elbows. Astarion ran his finger along her slit, causing her to shiver. A dark, desirous sound rumbled in his chest as he sunk two fingers into her, “Still a little sensitive, are we? There is still nectar dripping from your flower down the back of your legs. I knew you’d enjoy your little ride. I certainly did. You’re so beautiful when you come undone. Squirming and squealing. Though, I wonder what the others will say now that they’ve heard you screaming my name like a trollop?” He let out a moan as Dafni clenched around his pumping fingers, “Should we see if I can get you to do it again?”

Dafni cried out as he impaled her with one urgent push. His hips met her’s with a smack before he withdrew almost completely. She whined at the emptiness, relief washing over her as he resheathed himself with another unyielding shove. It seemed being unable to touch her had inspired a carnal frustration he was desperate to satisfy. He gathered her loose hair up in one hand, yanking her back as he continued to pound into her. He hissed as Dafni brought her thighs closer together, savoring the hardness of his length inside her.

“Tell me again, tart.” He demanded wrenching her back to look at him, “Tell me how I make you feel like a vestal maid with my ‘glorious cock’.”

“For you, I am reduced to a lusty, untouched damsel.” She confirmed pushing her backside against him.

“Indeed you are.” He released his grip on her curls, bringing his hands to rest on the swell of her hip tugging her even closer.

He growled his approval before sinking his teeth into the warm hollow of her throat. With each sip, she felt his heart fall into step with her own. It was a strange sort of intimacy that felt a bit metaphorical. Cold, wicked, Astarion’s undead heart lurching to life. Beating in perfect time with her own as she coursed through him. Dafni knew it was a silly, romantic notion but that could hardly be helped. Especially when he was ravaging her with such vigor. Her second climax flourished as he pressed himself against her just so. She convulses under him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Astarion tore himself away from her neck, incarnadine eyes burning ravenous with a mix of thirst and fearsome wanton need.

He shouldn’t have bitten her again. It was a rash, risky choice, especially when he was already frenzied with lust. That first taste from her thigh had been the most exquisite yet. The sweetness of her blood mingling with the earthy tang of her slick had been transcendent. The soft, sunny, joy he’d experienced when feeding on her in the past had been replaced with a blinding exaltation that had nearly finished him off untouched. If the first bite had been transcendent the second had felt like finding himself in Arvandor itself. It took no small amount of will power to chase off his instinct to drink her dry.

As he beheld her writhing, buxom form an admission rushed out of him, “I never want anyone else to touch you again.”

Never?

Oh, gods, that was a fool thing to say!

“I’m spoiled for all others.” She assured, “No one else could please me as you do.”

Her words ignited something base in him, pushing him to the edge. With a final crude thrust, he found his rapture, flooding her snug, soaking, heat with his release. All the while his thoughts rang loud with one word.

Mine.

He lingered behind her for a while, his chest heaving and heart racing. He knew he must be a flustered mess and he didn’t really want her to see him like that. He’d already shown her too much. He squeezed his eyes shut. Composing himself before laying out beside Dafni.

When his eyes fluttered back open he took stock of the scene before him. Dafni’s expression was somewhere between dazed and ecstatic. The wound on her neck was still dripping red. The one on her thigh had closed, turning a deep purple. His seed seeped from her entrance. His chest went tight, his cheeks a deep red. She was well and truly debauched.

“Daffodil?” He said softly as he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, “Are you ok, dear?”

She blinked a few times before nodding, “I’m ok! Just a little woozy and overwhelmed, maybe? Kind of floaty.”

“Completely fair. That was...A lot. I might have gotten a bit carried away. Apologies.” He brushed the loose hair from her shoulder to get a better look at the puncture on her neck, “If you feel faint, you should eat something. Tell me what you’d like and I’ll fetch it from the camp’s stores?”

“Some water would be nice and maybe an orange? I think we have some left from the druids.” Dafni turned to her side, cozying up beside him. She looked up at him through curling pink lashes. Her mossy brown eyes expressing an uncharacteristic shyness. “After I have my snack, could maybe I stay with you again tonight? You can say no! I won’t be offended. I understand that you like your space and I don't want to be clingy! I-I’m just feeling a little vulnerable after all that and I don’t think I could handle a walk of shame right now…”

It always stung to hear that she expected him to throw her out as soon as the deed was done. He supposed she had every right to after his attempt to leave her alone in the woods that first night. It should have been clear to her he enjoyed her company by now. Hadn’t she noticed all of the parts of himself he’d conceded to her? He’d told her about Cazador- Not everything but more than he thought he’d be willing to share with another person. He let her linger in his personal space and hold his hand almost constantly. He watched out for her when she was too blinded by her own generosity to do it herself. He had even admitted how important her well being had become to his own! And still, she assumed he’d toss her out into the night.

“Of course you can stay,” He scowled tuting his disapproval as he spoke, “I just assumed you would start staying with me after I invited you to the other night. Apparently, I should have been more clear. Unless I tell you otherwise, you are always welcome to stay with me, Daffodil. So please stop acting as if I’m some cold-hearted dastard? It’s offensive and it bruises my ego.”

“You mean it?” She chirped a blinding grin across her winsome features, “I can stay here whenever?”

He groaned, “Yes. I know you don’t like trancing alone and I like having you around. It makes sense for us to share quarters. If I need space I’m sure you’ll know. Now I’m going to get your food and water before you swoon from bloodloss or over-excursion.”

#astarion #dafni of gwynneth #elf writes #elf gets spicy #sunshine & starlight

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gerardisbell25-blog · 7 years

Text

Dangers Of Glancing Into The Womb

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