Invnarcel

"Incendio!" Fire shot from the end of my wand and onto the pile of moving photos. I sat in a corner of the common-room that night, teary as I watched captured memories of my boyfriend and I burn away. Kiena knelt beside me with a sympathetic frown, offered me another tissue. "Thanks." I took it and blew my nose. "Etundre Chalem." Kiena made a circle with her wand and the fire went out, leaving a pile of ashes and a scorch mark on the floorboards. Other Hufflepuffs were standing a

Last class of the day was Potions with the Gryffindors, taught by Professor Melisend. A hook-nosed witch who prowled between the dungeon benches after instructing we pair up beside big cauldrons. I was setting out my ingredients when I caught Rodney's eyes from across the room. He was giving me the crudest and filthiest up-down look I'd ever seen, as if he wanted to fuck me right here and now. I quickly averted my gaze. There was a hot squeaming in my gut. It didn't matter how hot he was, I wasn

That's so funny, this is literally a line in my next chapter 😆

A Slytherin main character comes in eventually... like chapter fourteen >.> I wrote them shorter cause I intended to update every day. I pre-write too so that I'm prepared if I don't feel like writing one day. The chapter lengths may also vary, there are long ones and sometimes if I don't have time it may only be a few paragraphs. It's like a casual writing exercise almost, but I do have plot plans just not an ending plan.

Leaving my pursuer and his would-be conquest behind me, I went down an outdoor corridor. Following it along beside a courtyard, past young witches and wizards, into the arched opening of the castle. I walked beneath the swinging pendulum and made my way to Professor Barberry's storeroom. As head of Hufflepuff house and a jolly friend, he'd given me a key to it. I retrieved the rusted item from my pocket and opened the door. Squeezed aside to avoid the giant Tentacula plant whose vines were wrigg

No, these are original characters. Smut comes a little later but not too much later. Anyway I think you'll all get where I'm going with this after a few chapters.

This is less a serious work and more a bit of fun. Hopefully I can get a following somewhere. Pls comment if you like it and I can update a little bit every day, maybe encourage people to make something similar. I'm on Uni holidays and have had some thought about my next novella but nothing set in stone yet. I've done some reading but can probably stand to do some more before I start something serious. Thanks!

Romance. Spellmanship. Slash smut. Riveting relationship drama. Original Characters. Pls review for daily updates.

The sun reflected off the grimy glasshouses. Across the grass fields younger students were making their way to the Quidditch pitch or otherwise enjoying their lunchbreak. My sleeves were rolled up. I set down the flowerpot and burlap sack I'd been carrying, the contents of which were wriggling about. Then stepped back across the grass with my wand out. I was reasonably out of sight, at least nobody was looking this way. I pointed my wand "Sciogli." The sack untied itself and out came sev

Thank you so much! That's so cool! ❤️❤️❤️

UPON REFLECTION I need no flowers nor gifts from you. Quoth the raven, karma doesn’t exist but I do. Your intentions were always visible, Your depression is non-refundable. I’ve had over a year, I’m shrewd. The ache in your chest and the tears, Your wounded wrist, distant storm at my shore. You had the indiscriminate vindictiveness Of an attacking insect. I’m in your dreams evermore. JILTED Two lovers found each other in nightly meets, Told verses of old curses they had rel

Thanks! I hope you guys liked this novella. I copy-pasted this from my Wattpad account so it would have the same font as Necromancer, Ceramic Flowers and Wicked. This story is the fourth novella in this type of set - that being dark, thriller gay romances with psychology, sometimes supernatural, and around 30,000 words each. Instead of being in a high school the characters were older, and I think my next novella will also have older kids, perhaps at a university and aged in their early twenties. I'm not sure if this story had many twists or turns 🤔 It depends if people were fooled by Stanley's love confession or not. Otherwise this might have been rather constant up until the point it was revealed at the end that Howard was the killer. Ideally this would have kept people guessing about whether Stanley was a full-blown psychopath - which he is - or just a normal guy with some other problem who did have feelings for Phillip. I hope it was gripping and kept you guessing. Feel free to ask me anything about any of my stories. Thanks for reading!

- ten - I woke up in an empty bed – the first sign of trouble. I stretched and tried to flatten my bed hair, looking around the limited space of the hotel room. Stanley would not be able to convince me to leave my life for him, of that I was certain, so I was wondering how he'd react to our parting today. I got dressed and while yawning opened the door to another cold, grey day. If we didn't pack up and leave by ten o'clock they'd charge us for another night. I walked to the railing and shiv

- nine - Sunday morning an event took place that immediately shook up all the planning I'd made the night before. It was seven o'clock when I heard an assertive knock on my bedroom door. I called out asking whoever it was to wait, looked for pants before opening the door and seeing Officer O'Neil and Officer Amdur. The lady and middle-eastern policemen I met on my first day here. They were pert-mouthed as I looked between them. "Phillip Cleckley, you've been spending a lot of time with S

- eight - The laundromat was a single whirring room. Two rows of blocky machines on top of each other, mine jostled about as it spun my clothes inside a drier. Down the line a hunched lady in a ragged coat was extracting her clothes and putting them into a canvas bag. The timer ticked away and I stood aside, thinking of Stanley with both warmth and worry. Pulling out my phone I decided to call his sister. "I can't believe you were in my parents' house yesterday." Claire snipped by way of

- seven - Stanley told me he was in love with me, that he'd been in love with me since we met. I figured he'd try to seduce me for the sake of manipulating the imaginary article I was writing. This farce was taking things to a whole new level. Even if it'd been someone other than Stanley I wouldn't have believed it. My ingrained lack of self-value made me confused at the idea. How could someone possibly see something in me to love when I can't see myself at all. I'm merely fine dust, mis

- six - In contrast to everything I'd just heard, Stanley came by the hotel that night in a taxi. I was in my dark button-up and jeans, pausing on my way outside. He was in the back, leaning over to open my door from the inside. Our driver had a dark moustache and a cap similar to a French beret. "We're taking a cab?" I asked while buckling in. "If we have a drink or two it won't be wise for me to drive." Stanley was wearing a leather coat over his sweater, I could smell Yves Saint L

- five - I spent that evening finishing up my article draft and emailing it to Mr Tourvel. When finished I checked my iPhone and saw a text message from a friend informing me of some new development. Opening Facebook I searched Tom's profile, my ex-boyfriend, and saw his picture was him and another boy together, smiling with some dumb koala-eared filter. I felt a rush of pleasure before stifling it down. Rather predictable, it seemed I was left for someone else. This could lead to various ot

- four - I'd not packed for such an occasion, but I wore my finest coat. It was impossible to shake my pre-date jitters even in knowing that we could never amount to anything substantial. I hoped I'd please him. I remembered to pack my notepad but left the audio tape recorder – it was outdated, it didn't matter if he claimed not consenting to being recorded on my phone if he happened to confess to murder. It was seven o'clock when Stanley pulled up more or less on the dot, drawing stares fro

- three - Lochdale olde hotel, I ignored the various patrons that were starting to fill the place. I ignored the bartender lifting beer nozzles to pour into scooner glasses. Horse-racing was on the big TV. I helped myself to a glass of ice water that was on the counter by the wall, self-service. Then made my way up the wooden stairs. Since I didn't have my car, there was no risk in having a drink or two while I introduced myself to the locals. A reporter was sure to attract interest, and man

- two - Claire drove a silver Porsche, which shouldn't have surprised me in the slightest. She was a Highfair cross-over. I got into the passenger side and watched Claire fold up her sunglasses so she could see better, the glass was tinted on the other side. Her eyes were forward, the same grass-green of her handsome brother. These Miltons didn't even seem human to me, it was like I'd stepped into a reality TV show like the Housewives of Beverley Hills. The car hummed and I could feel how ni

- one - A perfectly full moon was all that was missing from this romantic night. As it were the moon was waning, my boyfriend and I sitting back on a quilted picnic blanket on the beach. It was the colder half of autumn but we were warmly dressed in oxford polo jumpers. The water was black, flat and glassy. The city lights of Eastland hooked around the bay, stretching pillars of orange across the surface. Our breaths misted, but my soft clothes and his body were warm. The moonlight was silve

Phillip Cleckley is a young journalist investigating a murder at Lochdale college. He begins an unfortunate liaison with the prime suspect, the wealthiest family's son Stanley Milton. Both men are different, but together they find a similarity.

The two elementals stood in a familiar shared laboratory. The young white-robed man scratched a hand through his untidy brown hair and gave a sigh of relief. "The Mini-Character-Tournie is over. And Godrid won!" "I know," the black-robed hooded figure had a smug grin on his wrinkled face. "It is so satisfying." "And unexpected." "What was that Zac?" "Nothing Chris!" Zac fearfully turned away, pretending to busy himself with the scientific apparatus. At that moment the sli

The audience had lost none of its exuberance as the final contenders marched to the field. Both Jane and Lyle were wearing fitted suits of some thin material. Jane could only guess the purpose was for effect… what more could the suits do? If they made them resistive to fire or getting electrocuted… well, that was point of their powers anyway so it didn't make sense. Jane's suit was red and black, while Lyle's was yellow and white. Those were the national colours of Zorgon and Godrid. So mayb