Zoon eet vill be Zonnenvende vitch to you ist Zummer Zolztice, und probably no big deal, but vor us in Germany, ve light fires. Do you know how happy zis makes me? Nights of a sousand fires, und you bet I am ready. Dont vorry I have ein flame resistant zuit, provided I even vear von!

Ron’s eyes widened nearly to the size of saucers as he took in the meal on the table. He glanced uncertainly at his plate, and then back up at Harry, suspicion written clearly all over his face.

“It’s not poisoned, Weasley,” Voldemort said dryly from the counter, his back still to the three friends. Ron squeaked, and Harry felt Voldemort’s amusement humming in his scar.

Ron widened his eyes at Harry, and Harry nodded his encouragement in response - he knew that Voldemort had promised he would not harm them. Licking his lips with a grin, Ron grabbed his fork and knife and went to dig in to his dinner - and then yelped as both flew up out of his grip, soaring up into the air and into Voldemort’s outstretched hand. The man still hadn’t turned around.

“Weasley, if I recall correctly, I haven’t killed your parents yet, so you’ve no excuse for poor table manners.” Voldemort shot a half-hearted glare over his shoulder at Ron, who tried to make himself disappear in his chair.

“I - it just - smells really good,” Ron said rather lamely, and Harry saw Hermione cover a giggle with her hand out of the corner of his eye, no doubt exceptionally pleased that someone else was objecting to Ron’s lack of table manners as well.

anonymous asked:

"Feeling sufocated and rather hated for things I didnt want to do; plus I felt eventually it would end bad. Now that im somewhat have returned; I fear not being wanted by those I love;; as well as being forgotten rather easily"

– [ ☤ ]   Silence for a moment. ❝ Zhis may not be very gut advice… or advice at all, but… I’m sure you’ll be fine. Really. If anyzhing comes up, you can come to me, even zhough I don’t have a lot of experience dealing vizh it. I alvays ran avay if it happened to me, und… it did a lot. But zhat part isn’t important. I don’t zhink you have anyzhing to vorry about, but if it escalates, I can help, I suppose. ❞

“M-Make it ssstop, pleassse…. It hurtssss…” - your-eternal-backstab

“Don’t vorry, it’ll be over soon.” - volatilemedicine

I’m tired. This is terrible but its going on this blog anyway

Explanation: The mutation is starting to hurt him pretty badly on the inside. Who knows what’ll happen next?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Thingy website thing I used to make this a gif image: x

Things I Love In This World

Harry’s life is hard, but when he suffers another loss, he is pushed to the edge and intends to be killed at Voldemort’s hand to end everything he hates in the world. But something unexpected happens.

Sequel: The Grey [currently ongoing]

Rated: M | Chapters: 35 | Words: 124,076
Published: 6-30-11 | Updated: 8-15-11 | Complete

anonymous asked:

*the little boy crawls out of the vent and flops on the ground before getting up* Sorry Mister, dad said if you want a pokemon, you should trap it, but he doesn't always give the best advice. Um, which ever, I don't care, just so long as it's extra cuddly and can hide in my bag when ever dad comes around. He wants me to fight, not cuddle. When I said I wanted a flebebe, he said I could settle for a Boldore because it can fight and flebebe can't. *he crosses his arms, pouting*

“Nein, he sounds like he vouldn’t.” Reaching into his hat, he spoke again, “Zhey’re all cuddly so jou don’t haff to vorry einbout zhat.” Pulling a Joltik out of his hat, he held it out to the boy, “Here, zhis little gal ist smart, so if jou tell her to hide, she vill.” As if to prove his point, the little Pokemon hopped onto the boy and went into his pocket.

zenith-silverlight asked:

Umm, I-I am so s-sorry, but I um, I... I heard that you like hugs... and... I was wondering if maybe you'd be ok with... *nervous wimper* ... hugging... m-me? (Please don't kill me!)

{{ Dearie, why would I kill you? You aren’t annoying in the slightest~ <3 }}

The little one quirked with a grin and gave a happy nod, keeping calm for the other’s benefit. “Of course I’d be okay vith ‘dat~ No need to be nervous, I am just a little German after all,” they quipped before taking the other into their arms and giving a gentle squeeze. “See? No vorries.”