MooncalfWaltz

Though anything explicit is hosted off-site, this is still an +18 blog.

Moon-made: Art • Fic • WIPs

Inbox: Ask Game Questions • AG Answers • All Replies

Gifts: Received • Given

Resource Masterpost

About MooncalfWaltz • Blog Housekeeping

AO3 Account: MooncalfWaltz Currently hosting fanfiction and art for Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts, Hogwarts Legacy, & Twisted Wonderland

[Teodoro's content contains student-teacher relationships, and may contain underage material. If you'd like to see how to avoid these, CLICK HERE.]

All Teodoro Posts

Reference Turnaround & Game Presets Art • Writing • MC-only Character Sheets Screencaps • Lore • Memes • Misc.

Teo x Sharp • Teo x Ronen Ship Art • Ship Writing • Ship-related Character Sheets

For information on all other OCs, including those visiting from @thatmysterioustickingsound, click [ HERE ].

Can I draw/write/etc your OC?

I do not consent to my work being used to train AI/LLM for any reason. Please do not use AI/LLM to generate likenesses of my characters or works. 

Sketch time~

I imagine Sharp is asking “Please don’t come home smelling so vile that the neighbors complain.”

OP, I am not tagging you because I don’t want to bring vitriol to your page. If you find this, you do, but if you don’t you don’t.

I’m glad you have boundaries, OP, but shaming someone else for theirs, when you can just as easily block them and stop seeing the thing that upsets you is a core “ship and let ship” tenet. If you are shaming others, you ARE NOT ABIDING BY THAT.

There is plenty fictional topics and scenarios I dislike for a number of reasons, but I am not going to try and play Feelings Yakuza with people who do create or interact with those things.

“Ship and let ship” is not hissing at people because you saw an icky thing. It’s being an adult and curating your own online experience. If you are NOT an adult, its on your parents for leaving you unattended online in spaces where adults frequent.

START BLOCKING.

SFW preview of a very NSFW piece. Does not contain prompt-related content in preview.

Fifth year, heeaaaaaavily implied Sharp/Black/Ronen/MC foursome Student-teacher…well, it’s not a relationship, but it’s like [touches ground] something terrible happened here

With the beds pushed together to make one super-continent of bedding, they all look at bit like they've been struck with the killing curse—spare, of course, for all the muttering and squinting they do, trying to sort out their brains in the slowly diminishing mental fog.

Teodoro makes a thoughtful sound (though he's barely capable of any thought more complicated than figuring out the general vicinity of up.) "Thank you for not letting me die of starvation. Or from my brain getting… Um." Once, as a child, he forgot the Spanish language entirely. Now he's losing English. "—scrambled eggs," he decides. "Thank you for not…brain going breakfast eggs."

Black lays somewhere roughly in the middle, looking marginally less sour than usual, and infinitely more nude.

"If anyone touches me," he announces, barely any better at forming words than Teodoro, "you're fired."

Three separate hands reach in and slap against bare flesh. None retreat.

Unhelpfully, Teodoro adds, "Can't fire me."

"You're expelled."

Teodoro swears with something Ronen is sure the boy picked up from Amit, but he still doesn't retract.

Finally, fed up with the sticky hands all over his body, Black grabs a corner of a blanket, and upon discovering he can't actually pull it to him, what with Ronen over the bulk of it, he tucks up, wedging himself under a few meager feet of it. Still riding the pleasant high of two pheromonally-fueled days well spent, Ronen pushes his luck and gathers the whole man up, dragging him in for something that vaguely resembles spooning.

"I'm going to send you home to your wife, transfigured into a tea set."

Unperturbed, Ronen giggles. “I’d be useful, still. She’d appreciate the thought.”

Me to partner: Ronen/Sharp has 3 works on ao3. One is mine. One isn't in English. They don't know what real hunger is.

Partner: If you didn’t have to look at anyone under thirty in a series you wouldn’t and you know it. XD

Me:

aaaahahaha thank you for the tag, @amethystandemma

These snips come from a fairly dark NSFW WIP, but these segments are SFW and uh, well, kind of stupid and funny when taken out of context XD

God, I love little moments of mood whiplash.

There are certain ways to go about things. First and foremost, House-Elves are to maintain a low presence. It allows any good manor or place of business to function with the air of works completed ahead of time. It grants the Master or Mistress competency in the eyes of their peers. It also, if applied correctly, allows for a good deal of subterfuge in the name of what is right.

Mid-lesson, Sharp throws open the door to his office, brows furrowed and wand at the ready.

Atop his desk Scrope stands ready to kick over another candle crafted from human spine—unlit, of course, Scrope is no fool. 

The human’s suspicion and anger give way immediately to confusion. Poised for a question, he doesn’t get halfway through the Elf’s name before his very mouth is stolen, rendering him both shocked and silent. Without a drop of malice, Scrope curls his fingers, beckoning the man in with haste. Once Sharp closes the door behind, shuttering out his class, a snap returns the man's unflattering yapper.

“Scrope?” Sharp hisses, not out of breath, but definitely off-beat.

Of course it’s Scrope. There’s no other one-eared House-Elf in the whole of Hogwarts. 

“Scrope is glad you heard him. Scrope would have been most displeased if in his ruckus, Scrope actually broke one of Professor Sharp’s fine things.” Hopping down, he retrieves the things he’s knocked over, and one-by-one, begins returning them to their rightful homes. “It would be most wise,” Scrope continues, delicately scooting a spine back into place, “were Professor Sharp to check in with Scrope’s Master for reasons of health. Perhaps with potions meant for healing.”

Though he can’t kneel, Sharp’s enough flexibility to lean and pick up the last candle on his own. With the door shut, a level of decorum drops from the Potions Master. “He’s not aggravated his own arse, has he? Because if he has, I am teaching a class right now. He’ll have to wait.”

The trio lands just outside of Black’s office, just out of sight of the Sorting Hat. With a silent nod, Scrope disappears. For the Elf's sake, they play it safe–

Sharp leads. Entering, he defers to the Hat: "Our Headmaster seems to have forgotten what responding in a timely manner means. I've a few things I've brewed related to an ailment of his. Do you know where he is?"

The Sorting Hat raises a thickly folded brow and shuffles in its case to face the men better. The sunken pits of leather that imply its eyes widen toward the pair, then away, to the unassuming brown door near them.

...challenge accepted