Do you have a recs where Harry embraces his ability of parseltongue?
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Parseltongue
Adopting Snakes by @drarrily-we-row-along (1,323 words, rated T)
Harry had gotten a little bit lonely while Draco was away for work, so he did the only thing that made sense and adopted 4 beautiful snakes in need of rescuing.
Draco returns and is just as besotted as Harry is.
Obsssesssed by @sweet-s0rr0w (1,563 words, rated T)
Draco has an annoying little snakey problem. Blaise thinks Harry should help out.
Blame the Wind by @p1013 (4,629 words, rated E)
He spoke to me in words only serpents understand
A Sound Like Serpents Singing by Lomonaaren (12,375 words, rated G)
When Draco Malfoy wants a magical snake for his son, he turns to the best in the magical world—serpent-breeder Harry Potter. Harry, who thought that all his past grudges had been settled, is startled by the way he responds to Malfoy. For many reasons.
Prats, Parcels, and Parseltongue by @ronbinary (10,196 words, rated T)
Harry is the Muggle world's first snake-only veterinarian. Life is good, and calm, for once. Until Draco Malfoy shows up with a snake. And then another. And then he won't stop coming in.
Slithering by @astolat (27,355 words, rated E)
Draco found the nest down in the Manor’s cellars, while he was clearing them out.
Coffee, Cakes, and Doorknob Snakes by Omi_Ohmy (40,842 words, rated E)
Harry's house is trying to kill him, and only one person can help him: pity it's Draco Malfoy.
And a bonus where Harry doesn't speak parseltongue, but he desperately wishes he does:
A Hiss to Build a Dream On by @xanthippe74 (10,663 words, rated T)
Harry fancies a certain Slytherin. Draco has a snake that’s refusing to eat. When Draco asks him to use his Parseltongue skills to help, Harry sees the opportunity he’s been waiting for. There’s just one small problem: Harry can’t bring himself to tell Draco that he isn’t a Parselmouth anymore.
❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️
A self indulgent commission that I got from my friend UnderMi5ed where Irvine didn't believe Friede was really gone, managing to track his ass down during the timeskip.
My personal hc is that Friede had chosen not to contact the crew after he saw how the Explorers twisted the public narrative so he instead continued to work behind the scenes, digging up whatever info he could to prove the RVT's innocence. While he means well and has the crew's best interest at heart, it'll take quite a while and a good amount of effort for Irvine to forgive him after making him grieve for his very much alive partner.
So… After the horrific events of HZ089, and seeing that one of the most popular theories has to do with Friede and Amethio… My mind just went with the flow. ( :D ) /
(Btw, I didn't write this as a romantic interaction between Amethio and Friede. I'm leaving that up in the air in case you want to take it as such; I won't stop you.)
Series: Pokemon Horizons
Characters: Amethio, Friede, Zirc, Onia, Hamber, Liko (mention) and Spinel (mention)
Warnings: Spoilers for the HZ089
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Amethio sat outside the room while Zirc and Onia circled around him. His two most loyal companions seemed more nervous than he was… Or perhaps, for him.
"Stop hovering like that, you're giving me a headache," he demanded, using a cooler tone, but not as demanding as on other occasions.
"Excuse us, sir," they both murmured through gritted teeth, looking uncomfortable and confused… It was unusual for them.
Amethio shook his head.
"I don't know why they're so agitated."
"Sir, don't be offended, but…" Onia began, doubtful and hesitant.
"Why… Did you decide to come to his rescue?" Zirc continued, always taking courage when his companion cowered. "It's just… Are they still our enemies?"
Amethio thought about the last look Liko gave him before fleeing Rakua.
"No. Not for now."
"But I still don't understand why they didn't look for him," the girl added. "They couldn't just leave him to his fate… right?"
"I don't know them personally, but I'm sure they wouldn't leave him even if their lives depended on it. Whatever happened, decisions were made, and the consequences will soon follow. The only thing I care about is what we do now, how we use this turn."
"Our turn? To do what?"
Before he could respond, the door opened. Amethio looked at Hamber, his faithful butler, who gestured for him to enter the room. The young man stopped, turning to his allies, who were more agitated than a herd of Mareeps.
"You two, go for a walk or release some energy; you're too nervous to come in."
The two henchmen nodded and quickly left. Amethio entered the room: it was one of the thousands of empty rooms they had at hand, one of the advantages of living in such a prosperous place. His attention focused on the side of the bed, where a Charizard lay with several bandages on its wings and body, sleeping soundly. Finally, he focused on the soft mattress, the leader of the Volt Tackle, his breathing shallow and much of his body bandaged.
As the doctor explained his condition and estimated recovery time, Amethio kept staring at the unconscious man, recalling that stormy day when Liko was cowering next to the crew leader, protected by him, screaming for her Pokémon companion while Amethio so cruelly snatched her away from her…
Amethio couldn't help but wonder if she, who had suffered deeply after losing her partner… How terrible must she be feeling after being separated from her mentor?
The doctor soon left, and Hamber followed suit, but not before apologizing to Amethio, mentioning that he would prepare dinner for everyone. Before leaving, the elder gave him a gentle look that made it clear he was giving him his space. The young man nodded, silently thanking him for his discretion.
Once he was alone with the sleeping Fire Pokémon and its trainer, the young man approached to see him. That man, who always seemed so laughing and mocking, was now in such a delicate state that… it was as if he were trapped in a dream.
Without realizing it, the young man began to speak.
"For a long time. You were nothing but a headache for the mission I had underway: You were a nuisance, a lure, and ultimately someone who got on my nerves to the limit… And now, seeing you so vulnerable feels… Strange, terrible, as if I were witnessing a tragedy that has just begun.
He noticed Charizard stir in his sleep, but didn't wake up. He decided to use a softer tone so as not to alert the Pokémon; it felt too private for prying ears to witness, regardless of whether they were human or Pokémon.
"I don't know how much you've shared with them, but I've seen it in that girl's eyes. Liko… I see that she's grown quite a bit with each encounter we had: she seemed stronger and stronger. I didn't want to admit it, but every time I had to fight her, I felt proud to have such a formidable opponent… And I know part of it is because of you…"
A lock of Friede's hair slipped across his face. The young man hesitated, but finally reached out to smooth it over. Instantly noticing his act of kindness, he jerked away with a snort.
"Let it be clear that this is only a temporary truce. When you are healthy, I will not hesitate to expel you and let you look for them on your own…" his voice broke, even without knowing exactly why. "But if you can listen to me… Please… You have to recover, for those children… They seem to love you- No, they need you by their side, to become stronger with your guidance. Not all of us can say that."
Was he speaking for Spinel? For Gibeon? For himself? Or for his mother…? He didn't know, and he didn't want to find out.
Amethio took another breath and looked at him with renewed determination.
"Do it for them."
Perhaps it was his imagination, but he swore he saw the other's hand move gently. Amethio watched more closely, but when he detected nothing else, he simply shook his head, finally pushing himself away from the bed and leaving the room, ignoring the way the wounded man's fingers gently closed into a small fist.
I genuinely cried here. Friede asks Cap to look after everyone, putting on an assuring smile until the very end.
I think it's especially foul of them to have the kids, Cap AND Orla be the one to see him for the last time. The kids that he cared for and witnessed their growth. His partner Pokemon that gave him back his spark. His childhood friend. Just maximum devastation all around.
I'm just. Man I knew this was coming but it still hit me straight to the gut to see Cap cry out for him. This little Pikachu is witnessing his Trainer just... fall and was powerless to do anything about it.
First completed piece this year and it's a vent fic. Been going through some rough, highly stressful stuff so you know I have to inflict it onto Friede. It's how I'm like during the bad days, and figured it could at least be a decent h/c sort of fic.
Series: Pokemon Horizons
Characters: Friede
Warnings: Mostly just negative thoughts and implied self destructive habits
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Friede knows it’s going to be one of those days from the moment he wakes up.
He knows from the poor sleep he gets; asleep for the majority of the night but stirs awake at the faint footsteps outside his door. Friede knows it’s Murdock being up bright and early so he can prepare breakfast but he feels a surge of sharp annoyance that he woke him up too.
Friede pushes himself into sitting up, careful not to disturb Cap sleeping at the end of the bed. He drops his head into his hands and breathes. It’s not fair to feel like that towards Murdock. It’s just him feeling… raw. Sensitive. An exposed bundle of nerves that’s twitchy from everything.
He can feel every strand of hair on his face. A hot, itchy sensation across his scalp that he knows no amount of scratching would fix. The feeling like he’s too big in his body, too tight under his own skin. Friede drops his hands onto his lap and grimaces, raising them from the blanket still half covering him. He’s suddenly hyper aware of how warm it feels on his legs, of the fabric’s texture beneath his fingertips from the brief contact.
Friede wants to kick it off but he stamps down the impulse to do so. Cap’s still sleeping, his small body laying atop the blanket. He can’t do that. He can’t wake up Cap so rudely just because he’s feeling like this.
He takes deep breaths until the his heartbeat lessens and he feels less agitated. Friede tries to think of his plans for the day but his brain feels too fuzzy. Forcing himself will just give him a headache, so he opts to start with just getting out of bed and getting ready for breakfast.
Usually he has plenty of energy to spare, bounding out of bed and whizzing around his room to get ready for the day. Right now, it feels kind of overwhelming to tackle his usual routine. It’s like there are chains tying his limbs down that the act of getting out of bed feels like a monumental task.
Friede pauses to breathe. That’s all he can do. What he should do to not get agitated at something so inconsequential.
Eventually he does get out of bed. He hisses when his bare feet touches the cold ground. He should have worn socks before bed. He tries to find his socks but his room is a mess–more so than usual.
He’s been busy doing his professor stuff. There’s a better term for it but even in his own mental dialogue, it’s hard to be eloquent. Friede tries not to think about it too hard since it’s just going to make him upset for not finding the right words to use in his own mind.
He has stacks of paper on his table. Books strewn about. His jacket is in the closet but a lot of his clothes are kind of stacked in the corner. He’s not usually this messy, this disorganized. He’s been busy, fixated on getting his research done. Spent days working on it, not really registering the passage of time. If not for Murdock reminding him to eat, Friede would have forgotten to do so. When he gets fixated, it’s like he doesn’t really register the cues sent by his own body. He doesn’t register the hunger, the soreness of his back from his hunched positions, the stinging eyes from staying up far too late. Only being aware when he stops and gets hit with the hunger pangs, the dizziness, the all consuming exhaustion that has him collapsing onto bed and sleeping for twelve hours straight.
He knows his socks are somewhere in the mess but he doesn’t know if he has the energy to dig through it. Laundry day isn’t for a few more days (he thinks) so he’s stuck with what he has. Friede thinks he has clean socks somewhere in the closet, but the idea of digging through that and imagining the disappointment of not finding it makes him not want to do it at all.
Friede scrubs his face. Breathes. He can do this. Every fiber of his being doesn’t want to but he has to do this.
Find clean socks. Wear them. After that put on boots. Wear his jacket. Tie his hair–or not, grimacing when he thinks about the feeling of his hair being pulled. Put on his goggles. Maybe then it’ll fully stamp down the urge to grab a pair of scissors and just snip off his bangs.
He can do this. One thing at a time. He can do this and not feel like he’s going to break down in tears because he’s unable to do a simple task due to his brain feeling fuzzy and he feels stupid and–
Breathe. He can do this. One thing a time.
Friede makes a slow sweep of his room. Eyes shifting from the bed, to the desk, the floor and closet. He doesn’t see socks until his eyes fell on his boots located near the door. He sees the socks draped over it.
Right, he always puts it there so he remembers to wear socks with his boots before he goes out. Friede walks over and grabs the socks. He leans against the wall to put it on. He frowns when he notices there’s a small hole. It’s not big enough for his big toe to slip out but he’ll be aware of that tiny space all day.
Briefly he considers going sockless but chooses the lesser of two evils. Friede just needs to remember to buy a new pair of socks next time they docked and resupply. With one task complete, the tension in his shoulder loosens slightly.
He got out of bed. He’s wearing socks. The next thing is to slip into his boots. Friede does so but frowns when he realizes the laces are untied. The thought of maneuvering his uncoordinated fingers into properly tying them up is overwhelming, so he opts to tuck the ends of the laces inside his boots for now.
With another task handled, he moves on to the next. Friede goes to grab his jacket, briefly holding it to lightly scratch at the patches on it. Better the patches than himself. He does this to multiple patches as each have their own unique texture.
When his skin didn’t feel as tight after a few minutes of scratching, Friede finally dons the jacket. He straightens it, using his palms to smoothed out wrinkles. He knows it’s not as effective but the idea of things looking presentable is enough to motivate him into doing the next task.
Friede doesn’t feel like tying his hair right now so he skips over to the last step, which is to put on his goggles. The pressure around his head eases something in him, and when he pushes the goggles up that it keeps his bangs out of his eyes, Friede feels more in control now.
He glances at the mirror. Even if he doesn’t truly feel like it, he at least look put together. Friede tells himself to match what he sees, so he pushes his lips into smiling.
When he’s smiling, he looks like good ol’ Friede, the ever reliable captain that his friends know him for. That’s the Friede he wants to be today, not the grumpy, easily agitated Friede that woke up an hour ago.
He doesn’t fully feel like that first Friede but he feels more at ease with himself that he can at least put on a decent show. Friede can join everyone for breakfast, smile at the kids, smile at his crew, thank Murdock for the food, eat it for the sake of not getting questioning looks and then go about his day.
Friede’s not sure what to do with his day but going to breakfast is a start.
His ears easily pick up the sound of Cap’s faint chuu, and he turns to find his partner awake, swiping the hat that fell off his head before putting it on.
“Morning Cap,” Friede says, finding that it’s not too hard to form words. It doesn’t feel wrong to move his mouth, to speak and smile. “Awake just in time for breakfast.”
Cap gives a Pika in reply before he gets off the bed. Friede manages to keep still and not flinch when Cap digs his paws into his clothes to climb up his back and onto his shoulder. He’s very much aware of the paw grabbing a handful of his hair but it’s manageable.
He’s good ol’ Friede now, and he’s not going to be annoyed by Cap doing this when he’s done it countless times before.
Friede simply breathes for a moment, then smiles before exiting the room. He’s exhausted, he still feels odd in his own body, he still wants nothing more than to stay in bed and not get up, but he’s up and ready for the day, so he’s going to go through it one step at a time.
As a treat for the 6th Anniversary of Scarlet Lady, I finally drew up that little fighting montage that I talked about way back in the Finale. You know, the one that goes between this page and this page? Enjoy!
Cute he thought he'd get anywhere.
And for our live commentator: Fenice!
(Nathaniel is still bitter about Hawkmoth stealing his OC for his akumasona.)
Just nip THAT little problem in the bud.
Hey, at least you finally got hit somewhere other than your face! 😗
When the nice kids choose violence, you're screwed.
okie but imagine if Adrien had invited Nino to one of his photoshoots so they could hang out after and the model paired with Adrien couldn’t make it so the photographer got Nino to fill his place.
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