#belleslettres

[francepittoresque]

10 mai 1833 : mort de François Andrieux, dramaturge, homme politique et professeur de belles-lettres ➽ https://bit.ly/3NuOA4m Causeur élégant et improvisateur agréable, destiné à exercer le métier d’avocat, Andrieux commence de se livrer à la littérature avant que la Révolution lui offre une place dans la magistrature puis que, écarté de la politique par Bonaparte, il ne se consacre à sa carrière de professeur de grammaire et belles-lettres

[belleslettres-love]

The Sins of Their Fathers

New Chapter

And the sons shall pay for the sins of their fathers, even unto the third generation…

After the War the Reparations Company, Incorporated takes custody of the Death Eater’s children, forcing them to work for the benefit of the Company, if not quite for the Ministry itself. 

Draco is sent to pleasure another one of the Company’s customers, expecting it to just be another job. Instead he finds Harry Potter.

Read on A03

[serpensthesia]

In an effort to not be hella disorganized, I made a spreadsheet of all the cake responses I’ve gotten (because I’m a nerd, and that’s okay), but I’m also going to summarize them here in case there’s anything I missed (which if there is something I missed, omg please let me know - it’s not because I’m ignoring you, it’s just because I’m a dumbass and don’t know how to use the internet!). I think I’m going to aim for making 1 or 2 a week. Because I already did Draco, I’m going to do Blaise and Pansy next (because they’re my silver trio, and they’re all awesome and I love them). Then Harry, Hermione and Ron, followed by Ginny, Neville and Luna. And then I’ll round it all out with @synonym-for-life’s BOMB af Dumbledore cake (because I’ve gotta find whales that I can use somewhere). (Also I’m super fearful of tagging everyone and being a huge annoyance, so I’m just linking for now, but if you want to be tagged just let me know!)

Pansy Parkinson

femmequixotic suggested dark chocolate and pomegranate!

Blaise Zabini

@o0o-chibaken-o0o and I had a lovely conversation about chocolate, cinnamon, cayenne, bourbon, coffee, fireball and horchata!

Harry Potter

dictacontrion suggested pumpkin, salted caramel, ginger, cinnamon, toffee/treacle!

Hermione Granger

belleslettres suggested dark chocolate and whiskey or beer! and h-holy suggested tea, chocolate and almonds!

(My King) Ron Weasley

h-holy suggested carrot cake! and @o0o-chibaken-o0o suggested a muffin! and I'm so grateful she did! cheese, bacon, chives, tomatoes... literally everything

Ginny Weasley

liilyflower suggested orange and caramel!

Luna Lovegood (a popular lady)

noeon suggested orange blossom, and honey! h-holy suggested vanilla, blueberry, cranberry, walnuts, herby flavors! liilyflower suggested golden toffee! and @o0o-chibaken-o0o and I talked about elderflower and lavender!

Neville Longbottom

liilyflower suggested pistachio! and @o0o-chibaken-o0o and I talked about earthy/floral flavors, elderflower, lavender and rosemary!

Albus Dumbledore

@synonym-for-life suggested THIS AMAZING SOUNDING WHALEING/WAILING, MULTICOLORED DREAM (and dark chocolate and raspberry)!

I also have suggestions for Fleur, Krum and Cedric, but I want to get through these guys first... plus I want to see if there's a way to make lavender croissants. And I'm also keeping track of all your alternate Draco flavor profiles! AND LISTEN, THANK YOU, ALL OF YOU (especially you, bixgirl1), for playing along with me and not being like "mmk, weirdo, get outta my askbox." You have all been so amazing and creative and sweet and I'm going to make the first teleporation breakthrough in history trying to find a way to share these with you irl. (And for any of my followers that are like "wtf is going on? cake?" I KNOW AND I'M SORRY and it's gonna go back to more normal soon. I know you're like "girl, you just finished spamming me with mermaids and now you're on cake?"... hang in there with me. I loooove you.)

[belleslettres-love]

I wrote something...

Finally... 

I mean, just the first chapter so far... 

And the sons shall pay for the sins of their fathers, even unto the third generation… The words are ancient, the sentiment archaic… and the whole thing, Draco thinks, is just really fucking unfair.

Read it on AO3

[belleslettres-love]

So, the coolest thing just happened... 

@kingtysonsworld asked to do a Podfic of The Blood Quill... and I just listened to it, and it is AMAZING! 

(It was a little stressful, to be honest, to hear my story read out... but definitely one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me.)

Please check it out: The Blood Quill by belleslettres, read by kingtysonsworld   (And also the really great cover art!)

[belleslettres-love]

The Sins of Their Fathers

Chapter Three is Posted

Summary: 

And the sons shall pay for the sins of their fathers, even unto the third generation…

After the War the Reparations Company, Incorporated takes custody of the Death Eater’s children, forcing them to work for the benefit of the Company, if not quite for the Ministry itself.

Draco is sent to pleasure another one of the Company’s customers, expecting it to just be another job. Instead he finds Harry Potter.

Drarry Fanfic. (Did I really need to say that?) Mature Rating. Warnings for Prostitution and Non-Con and all the Angsty stuff you love me for.  

Word Count (so far): Almost 5,500

[belleslettres-love]

Post-War Dreams

by belleslettres 

I awake… not exactly with a start, but all of a sudden, and with the distinct feeling that everything is not all right. I stay very still and listen… but the only sounds I can hear are proper nighttime noises—the soft rustle of the house elves moving about the Castle, cleaning and setting things to right; the rickety sound of the wind moving through the trees in the Forbidden Forest; the grunting snores from Longbottom in the room next door.

What I don’t hear is my roommate’s breathing.

I roll over. Harry Potter’s bed is empty, his covers thrown back, his sheets white in the faint moonlight. 

I roll back over and close my eyes and tell myself that Potter is an eighteen-year-old wizard, more than capable of fighting through his own nightmares. It’s not true though and a moment later, I’m flinging back my own blankets and padding into the common room.

Harry is sitting on the floor in front of the fire, legs pulled up in front of him, staring at the flames.

He doesn’t own pyjamas—he sleeps in his boxers and a tee-shirt if it’s warm, or baggy sweats if it isn’t. Tonight he’s wearing sweatpants so large that I expect he has to hold them up when he walks, and a faded, threadbare Gryffindor tee-shirt that is at least one size too small. It makes him look so fucking fit… and like a lost child.

“Hey,” I say. Softly.

 He looks up, his eyes still replaying the nightmare that woke him as the firelight shadows dance across his face. He doesn’t say anything. Maybe he can’t.

I walk past him, behind him, to settle in on the couch. He doesn’t have nightmares every night, but when he does, he needs space. And he needs to not be alone.

After many moments, he scoots back and leans against the couch. He doesn’t touch me.

“Sometimes it’s like I can’t believe it’s really over. I can’t believe he is really gone,” he whispers. “I can’t believe everyone is safe. I want to floo Molly… or Andromeda, just to make sure she and Teddy really are safe.” He says it to the fire.

“Did you? Floo them?”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning. Andy wouldn’t thank me for that.” There’s a slight sardonic edge to his voice. I think, maybe, his nightmares are releasing him. Slowly.

Or maybe it’s just a shallow imitation of the voice he always used to use to address me.  

“No,” I say. “I don’t suppose she would.”

He’s quiet for a long while, then: “I dream… about the people I didn’t save.”

“Who were you dreaming about tonight—or shouldn’t I ask?”

It takes him a moment. “You,” he says finally. “In the fire.”

I know this dream.

“You did save me, you arse.” It’s habit. I can be gentle with him. But when he takes me off guard, snide is what he gets.

The barest smile touches his lips… and disappears.

“Tonight… I didn’t. You fell.” He’s still watching the fire.

It should have burnt down to coals by now… but one of the elves must have built it up for him, and it’s burning brightly. We both watch as the flames lick along a log.

“Draco… we were back… in the room… and I reached for you… and your hand… it slipped… I tried so hard, but it just kept slipping… right out of mine and you fell. Into the fire.”

For a moment I see… I know… what he sees. The heat of the fire reflected in my panicked face. My hand reaching out for him. Our fingers brush, but don’t grasp. I’m falling. I can smell burning—fabric, for now. I’m still reaching for him. I’m screaming, but there is no sound.

I swallow. Hard.

This dream is my dream, and I know it well.

The fire is all around me. Hot. It hurts to breathe. And Harry Potter is flying towards me… reaching out for me… his hand closing around mine.

Sometimes he pulls me onto the back of his broomstick. He reaches back, holding me close. I can smell him—he smells like sunshine and wood shavings—even above the smells of the fire.

Sometimes I fall.

I think I make a small noise, but if I do, Harry doesn’t notice.

I wipe my palm along my thigh. It’s dry now, but I’m wiping away the memory of sweat, of fingers so slippery it’s a miracle he was able to hold on to them at all. I’m wiping away the imagined-memory of them slipping out of Harry’s grasp, the pain of trying to hold onto something that you can’t hold onto. Even in my dreams I don’t feel the fire burn—I wake up falling and screaming.  

“I couldn’t shake it,” Harry says, his voice liquid. “I tell myself that it’s a dream and that I did save you… and I try to go back to sleep. And when I do you’re there in the fire, in the heat of the fire, your hand slipping through mine, and I can’t hold on.”

His eyes, bright and green and pleading, look up at me. There’s not a lot of light, but I can see the teardrops glistening on his lashes.

“You did save me, Harry. You’ve saved me a couple of times, now.”

I reach out my hand. He grabs onto it and lets me pull him, maybe not to safety, but at least up onto the couch.

Next to me.

I put my arm around him, and he tucks in close.

It’s almost as if we haven’t spent our entire school careers hexing each other. It’s almost as if I don’t have the Dark Mark, black on my arm.

“I know that dream,” I say softly, carding my fingers through his hair. His hair is thick and heavy, but so very soft. Even though it looks it, it’s never tangled, and my fingers slide easily through the curls. “You always come for me.”

“Do I always save you?” A whisper. With rough edges.

“No,” I admit. “Not always. Sometimes I do slip through your fingers. And I wake up, falling. Reaching for you.”

He shudders.

“But, Harry, you always come for me.”

 Fin

Read on AO3

[belleslettres-love]

WIP Monday

It’s no longer Monday... and I get the impression that, when I was tagged by the fabulous @drarryruinedme7 it wasn’t Monday, either. But here goes...

Recently Finished: Not a damn thing. I’m embarrassed to say that the last thing I genuinely finished was That Which Marks You way back in July 2018 

*hangs head in shame*

Current WIP:  Unexpected Expectations -- about 13,000 words so far and suffering from extreme writer’s block. Super short summary: The story where Draco plays the piano and Harry falls in love.  Not-so-short summary:  After the War, everyone wanted something from Harry… and he fled to Romania and the arms of Charlie Weasley. But a year’s passed and he finds himself back in London… working at a coffee shop. After the War, St. Mungo’s refused to admit Draco into their Healer program… but he decided not to allow them to dash his childhood dreams, and enrolled himself in a Muggle nursing course. He fuels his nursing studies with an awful lot of coffee.

So what I’m working on instead: Sins of the Fathers -- this is a post-war fic that will involve prostitution and parenting, but not at the same time First lines: And the sons shall pay for the sins of their fathers, even unto the third generation… The words are ancient, the sentiment archaic… and the whole thing, Draco thinks, is just really fucking unfair.

Plot Bunnies (do we still call them that?): 

Romance Novels -- The day Draco found his mother’s stash of (Muggle!) trashy romance novels. Really it’s a story about consent mixed up with first kisses and first loves.

Not a Nice Story -- When I wrote That Which Marks You, I went back and forth as to how dark to make Harry. As it turns out, he was more damaged than dark and everyone got to live happily ever after. This is where the dark stuff went. 

Wolf -- After Harry and friends escaped the Manor, what happened to those left behind? (This question was inspired by a fic by @rose-grangerweasleyisbae.) What happens when you are bitten, but not turned, by a werewolf? What happens when Draco comes back to Hogwarts for eighth year... and has to share a room with Harry Potter? Well, obviously, I don’t quite know the answers to these questions--it’s a WIP, after all!

The story that started out as Dramione but I don’t do that anymore, so I’m going to change it to Drarry, but keep a lot of the same words because they were good words. It will begin when Bellatrix is torturing Hermione at the Manor. There will be a pregnancy and a prison sentence and eventually Draco will take up the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts and who is that blond child??? Chances are it will end in the bed of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. 

Now I think I’m supposed to tag people and then go work on one of these. The tagged people can play if they want to with their stories, inspire me to work on a specific story, or ignore this completely because isn’t everyone super busy right now? So... @fleetofshippyships @lqtraintracks @dewitty1 @shealwaysreads @drarryismylife101 @gloster @s4900847