....

[reenka]

...I just had the most disturbing vision out of the corner of my eye, of my plushie!Harry with long wild black hair o_0 Y'know, but still with his messed-up striped t-shirt & jeans & glasses & stuff.

As flash occurred, I realized I would possibly adore girl!Harry even more than boy!Harry, in a way. In an OMG CRUSH sort of way o_0 He's just. My darling as a boy, but as a girl he's. Just. Dude. Breasts o_0 Awkwardness. Still wearing boy clothes. And blushing a lot. And still being very angry. And punching Ron for staring. And. Suddenly getting weird reactions about... boys. Which may or may not have always been there. And. Liking Ginny more. And. Omg, breasts.


Feel like the biggest perv that ever lived o_0 I know Silvia wrote it, but see. This is less about the funny (though still funny) and more about the. Y'know. Sex. And gender-bending. And Harry not being gorgeous! Just lanky & skinny & with wild hair & small breasts & still the urge to kick things. Like, he's totally the same except. Y'know. Yeah.

Girl!Harry & Hermione, ack. He'd like-- go to her for advice and-- stuff-- and-- fumbling would occur, and. It would be so awkward! And. Hot! And Ron! Poor Ron, with the staring and the being rather awkward and messed with and. Ack! And. Draco would. Be so confused. And angry. And confused. And how could he act the same way? Potter is a GIRL! It's just. Too weird. So. He just. Avoids. And wanks. And stalks, like in the shower or something. o_0

Seriously have to fight urge to write girl!Harry. Ack. Someone talk me out of this...! Please.

Wah. Okay I think I've purged it. 'Cause clearly it's not going anywhere, it's just-- ack short skirts & knobby knees...! And Draco like, fainting (and we can't forget Ron-- what with the wanting to grope Harry's breasts 'cause they're mates & that's the sort of favor one would expect), and Hermione being protective (or possessive! Harry, you must take care of yourself now that you're one of us!) and Ginny deciding she's gay (well, she is in my head) and. Omg. Everyone Wants Harry = Reena Is Ever So Lame. It's just. I can't decide who to pair her with-- I just think everyone would be confused, it's not that they all want her. It's just that... hormones are everywhere. And she wanks a lot. And possibly I could see it being H/D but mostly. Girl!Harry. Still angry. Ack. And violent! And. Getting into physical fights!! Omg. See, this is why I should be asleep now. Bad Reena, no Mary-Sue!Harry for you. *slaps own wrist*
~~

PS. potter_mouth can most definitely have my babies anytime, anywhere. Forget about that girl!Harry thing, I'm totally sold on the testosterone overload, I really am. CALL ME, BABY. :-*
    I mean, it's likely enough you like boys, but you being fictional & me being creative, we can work something out, non?

Comments

Re: :-"

[malafede.livejournal.com]

blood-play--> not anal, I mean, like, licking... swords... mmm

“Stay where you are, Potter.”

Malfoy didn’t look right.

The weapon didn’t belong with him, for once. It wasn’t the simple fact that he wasn’t the Slytherin heir by a long shot, and the Staff wasn’t going to be anything more than a battered old club. Malfoy looked bent under its weight, even while he handled it with technical flawless art. But Malfoy didn’t belong in black robes and the rancid smell of long dead bodies and the burning pounding of rain. He belonged in unwrinkled robes just out of fresh smelling laundry and the brightest corner of the Library and the pompous tones of Grumbumble draught debates and Harry’s bad.

“I told you – don’t fucking get close!”

Malfoy swung the Staff around, his own body swaying with effort, and Harry took another step forward.

“Stop it, I told you, just stop doing that, you can’t enter Slytherin soil, I’m not going to let you do that -

Harry took another step. His heart was beating wildly but the rain was louder than that, even, and the Malfoy Mansion ruins glittered of white stone and the black pattern of broken incantations. Malfoy guarded his temple, eyes rabid, the panting coming like a rippled hiss through his teeth. They widened in fear and a murderous thirst for revenge when Harry kept advancing.

“You can’t do this, Potter, I’m going to kill you first –

Harry’s hands were empty.

“You can’t take this too, this is mine, do you hear me? MINE!”

The club swung again. Harry ducked down just in time, and Malfoy stumbled with the propulsion, and when he raised his bloody drenched head again his eyes were wet with frustration.

“Leave me alone!”

Harry stopped.

“It’s MINE! I’LL KILL IT FIRST!”

Malfoy stood straight, finally, his dirty skinny body lean and the arc of his arm graceful. It trembled, then Malfoy clenched his fist around the Staff and all was still. The Snake head was pointed on the scattered stones, the topless column, the bloodied pentacles.

“I’ll kill it first, Potter,” he murmured again, and somehow through the rain, Harry heard him.

He was feet away from Malfoy now, the tiredness in his body as violent as the icy rain, his boots unrecognizable under the bath of mud. He’d conquered everything he had to conquer, and he had no enemies any longer, and he did’t want Malfoy to be his last. He’d conquered everything they asked him to, and the only place he’d wanted for himself was impossible to reach.

If you try to take it he’ll kill himself, if you go away your hands will be always empty. There was no trespassing that confine. Harry raised a hand and offered it to Malfoy.

Re: :-"

[malafede.livejournal.com]

“It’s not yours,” he said. His fingers shook with fatigue. “It’s mine, don’t you get it?”

Malfoy’s lips stretched back around his teeth, the snarl of a dying man. “You greedy little bastard –

“No. I don’t care. I’m not letting you. I can take this as well, you know. Before you can as much as crack a brick. Take the Staff away. You’re not free to do as you please –

Malfoy’s arm shook violently. When the convulsion had passed, more angry tears spilled down his face, drawing patterns in the mud.

Like incantations. They looked good on him. Possession.

“I’m not free, am I? THAT’S IT, ISN’T IT? I CAN’T HAVE WHAT IS MINE AND I CAN’T BE FREE AND YOU DON’T WANT ME TO BE FREE BECAUSE I HAVEN’T FUCKING DESERVED, DID I? I’LL KILL MYSELF FIRST –

“I’m not going to let you free because you need to be happy first.”

A blinding white light exploded in Harry’s head when he threw himself at Malfoy – Malfoy’s arm jerked forward like a self-preservation instinct, and the Staff hit his temple so hard he thought he heard bones cracking. But no, and the second after that they were on the ground, rolling, more mud on Draco’s body and more blood on Harry’s body, and face, and Malfoy clenched his teeth with a sort of never surrendering helplessness. The rain never stopped, but at one point their bodies did, right in front of the heart of the Mansion, the last unconquered land, all that was left over of Malfoy. Harry blocked him, holding him down with his weight, lodging himself firmly in the curve of Malfoy’s legs. His palm connected with the Staff and his fingers curled around it gently, unviolently, taking possession of the Slytherin Snake more easily than he ever possessed Malfoy.

It fleshed again – the white light of power – inside Harry like pain and power and magic, another flesh of white when the Snake inside the Staff came to life, again, like it was supposed to be, where he was supposed to be, in the Slytherin heir’s hand.

Malfoy growled and struggled and never stopped crying, even when the violent resistence of his hand was melted by the Snake own recognition of its Master.

He drew a breath, shuddering, turning his head away. “… You couldn’t stop, could you? You had to take it, didn’t you? You can never leave me alone, can you?”

Malfoy’s hand fell to the ground, a bloodied lump, chopped and scorched into submission by the Snake’s invisible blades. A blade for every scale, for every cell of skin the Basilisk shred, for every slitherin contortion of the blond boy who held Harry between his legs.

Harry took his hand. “I can never leave you alone,” he said against the slashed skin, and his tongue rasped softly against him, healing what he had just harmed. “I can’t let you free,” Harry was shuddering, too, and his eyes wet and laden with tears. “You need to be possessed first. You can’t be free if you aren’t mine first.”

Malfoy’s hand opened, slowly, and the spasms of his body slowed, his sobs subdued. Harry’s tongue entered every crevice. It was inside every vein.

“You don’t know how to be free, Draco.”

There was a wail, Malfoy's last tired buckle. Harry slid further inside the fold of his body.

“I don’t want to be free of you,” he whispered to the pelting rain, sucking blood like a lifeline, stocking himself with poison to never go without again.

(next one: taIlored to your needs. sorry for incompetence, etc.)

:> :>

[yourpoison.livejournal.com]

Oooh, this is really interesting. The freedom/possession thing and the Slytherin staff (but... Harry's not the Heir...??) and the whole wild-thrashing Malfoy & wise-powerful!Harry (teehee). It went all symbolic & plotty instead of porny, but I dig that. The plot...! One can't be free of the plot...! ahahah. You're good with the symbolic dialogue-- I do that too; have to constantly force myself to write 'normal' speech :>

(ahahah 'my needs' :D :D)

Re: :> :>

[malafede.livejournal.com]

oh, of course he's the heir <3 <3 <3