Ad Lucem Task: Tale of the Three Brothers AU
Because I could not stop for Death ā He kindly stopped for me ā The Carriage held but just Ourselves ā And Immortality.
@princissa @hisfirstlieutenant
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Ad Lucem Task: Tale of the Three Brothers AU
Because I could not stop for Death ā He kindly stopped for me ā The Carriage held but just Ourselves ā And Immortality.
@princissa @hisfirstlieutenant

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Mary Macdonald as an Auror AU
āItās not about destroying the ones I hate, itās about saving those I love.ā
Mary Macdonald went on to graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy with the knowledge that war was imminent. She refused to sit back and do nothing, and followed a similar path of her father--only instead of joining the Wizengamot or working as a lawyer, she wanted to be on the front lines, capturing dark witches and wizards and bringing them to the Ministry where others would decide their fate.Ā
TASK 04: WELCOME TO THE 74th ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES! adlucem edition, part 1 (part 2)
Narcissa Black is the female tribute of District One. She is the little sister of a former victor, Bellatrix Black. Only a few months before the reaping, their third sister, Andromeda Black, and their cousin, Sirius Black have created a scandal by running away from the district and going rogue, so Narcissa is determined to win back the favor for her family and prove that more than one Black can win the Hunger Games. She secretly hooks up with James Potter several times before the games start.
The Marauders as Hamilton Characters
James Potter as Alexander Hamilton
āIām just like my country- Iām young, scrappy, and hungry. And Iām not throwing away my shot.ā
Remus Lupin as John Laurens
āRaise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away.ā
Peter Pettigrew as Aaron Burr
Iāll keep all my plans close to my chest. Iāll wait here and see which way the wind will blow.ā
Sirius Black as Hercules Mulligan
āOh my god, tear this dude apart.ā
@remusluinā @jxmes-prxngsā @wxrmtxlā
a different kind of war: an au.
The students of Hogwarts had their normal days planned. They either paid attention or ignored their classes, hung out with friends, tortured each other, got into trouble -- the norm for a Hogwarts student.
There was already a black cloud hanging over the school; the impending war of blood purity. So when the sky went grey, everyone stopped to look. There was a fear that you-know-who was finally taking over.
Instead, they heard music begin to emerge from the clouds.
Young hearts, out our minds Runnin' till we outta time Wild childs, lookin' goodĀ Livin' hard just like we should Don't care whose watching when we tearing it up That magic that we got nobody can touch Let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young
Kesha had infiltrated Hogwarts.
No matter what they did, they heard her songs in their heads; songs she wrote and songs she sang. Each student heard a different song. As some students stood near one another, they heard the same song.
Why was this happening? Was this the beginning of the end?With songs running through their heads, no one could figure it out.

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AD LUCEM TASK: Eros and Psyche
āIt is a difficult matter to keep love imprisoned.ā
@tvddytonks
Modern Musical AU Luciophissa: A Production Creative freedom is a trap. Itās a trap designed to lure you in with the promise of succulent epiphanies and orchestrated masterpieces. What they donāt tell you is just how impossible it is to get a handle on your creativity. They give you no god damn idea about the unpleasantries guaranteed by the long hours without sustenance and the disrespect of everyone in your company being mashed against your face. Lucius Malfoy was a singer. Scratch that, he is a singer. Truthfully, if weāre really being honest.. Heās a vocal coach. But heās not just any vocal coach. Lucius is the vocal coach. Esteemed and prestigious as they come. His resume was long, peppered with the names of both movie vixens and theatre meisers alike. Questionable circumstances surrounded the situation that had him stepping down and out of the game itself. The man had given up years of Broadway fame, seduced by the likely hood that heād be able to save his voice and retain a name for himself. His name, and his small fortune, and his livelihood . Oh, and he would have total creative freedom. Bullshit. Rodolphus Lestrange also believed that it was bullshit and that, my friends, is exactly why he had been named the companyās director of choreography. Years of expertly choreographed dance routines had muddied up the beautiful ensembles that Lucius had the opportunity to sing. His voice was like that of an angel, sure, but it was the dancing and the charisma that had won him awards. Dances that were brought to life by people like Rodolphus. Who made love to life by way of a song; soul poured into every movement with such grace and beauty that it was entirely mindless. People like that turned to dance as a form of escapism. Thatās why he looked so good while he was gliding across the stage. Why it looked so natural. The art of the dance was his second skin, and it made him feel alive when nothing else in the world could. Now heās stuck in the middle of production hell with Lucius. A hell that they endured together, though most certainly not without complaint. There were minutes. Hours. Entire days when absolutely nothing was going right. The falsettos were off key. The polish split kicks werenāt high enough. And no matter how hard the two of them hammered, battered and demanded perfection, there was just none to be found where it didnāt exist. āGreat. Another cast scrap.ā The two of them had both uttered the words on more than one occasion, and once upon a time they used to feel guilty about the cuts. Not anymore. They grew restless and bitter. There was little remorse in the ritual of the transaction. āYouāre out. Youāre done.ā Rodolphus would say, his face so stone cold that it was impossible to read his expression. āYouāre not what we were looking for. Better luck next time.ā Most of the cast would raise their hands then. āYes, all of you.ā Lucius would further explain before anyone had the chance to badger him about whether this means they no longer have jobs. āNo we canāt discuss it. Yes we are sure.ā No pause. None. Doesnāt even sound like he actually has feelings āSee you next year.ā He did, of course, interject on behalf of Rodolphus. It was within everyoneās best interest if the mans temper remained level⦠Even if Lucius remained a perpetual fan of Rodolphusā authoritarian teaching methods. There were disgruntled murmurs. Tears welling in the ducts of young dreamers who had been dealt the first (and most certainly not the last) blow of their careers. Lucius wouldnāt admit how satisfying the feeling was, nor could he properly explain why. Something, something, jealousy induced envy. It didnāt matter. It was his job to create Stars out of nothing, and he certainly knew when there was no potential to be had. āI really thought weād have found at least one inside this flock. I canāt remember the last time I had to stop and think about whether or not one of these kids had what it takes.ā Lucius is frustrated, to the point where heās exhaling his feelings in an exaggerated huff. Rodolphusā hand finds the bridge of his shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly with a smug grin across his lips. āI donāt contemplate. I meditate. And so far itās yet to steer me wrong. Weāll find them, Luc.ā Rodolphus loosens his grip, fingers residing over his shoulder as he gives it a rub. āAnd until then.. We get to size up the incoming talent. We know what everyone else will be working with, and we can upstage them.ā Lucius rolls his eyes, arms folding over the waistcoat buttoned neatly over the white oxford he wore- sleeves rolled to the elbows. He doesnāt look impressed, convinced or comforted. But Rodolphus just waggles his brows over those dark, stormy eyes of his and suddenly thereās a smile that springs to life against the hardened pieces of Lucās expression. Rodolphus takes a step forward, leaving very little space between the two men as they stood. His hand shifted from the plain of Luciusā shoulder to the subtle tone of his bicep, silly little halfsmirk playing on his lips. āCome on. If itāll make you feel better, we can sneak over to AB Co. and watch their first years dance until their toes bleed..ā Itās really impossible for him to stay irritated when the other man works to convince him otherwise. Especially when he looked so good doing it. Of course, it probably had something to do with literal years of putting his body through choreographic mutiny for the sake of perfecting dance routines. Alas, Rodolphus could walk in looking like a sack of potatoes and Lucius would proclaim his favorite food as french fries. The two of them had an understanding. Like a secret society, in a sense. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty. Keep each other on their toes. Bad days come and go, but this was it. They wouldnāt give up until they succeeded. āUm, terribly sorry to interrupt, butā¦ā A meek voice interrupts them, Rodolphusā hand now falling entirely free of Lucius. Both of their heads snap into the direction of a strange girl, one not apart of the group theyād seen today or had been seeing for the past week. āYes, what is it?ā Lucius wastes no time with formalities, nor does he bother to pretend that they hadnāt just been interrupted. āAuditions start tomorrow.ā Rodolphus continues, āCome back then.ā āWill Roberts sent me over.ā She shuffles closer to them now, the unforgiving overhead light finally exposing her for all of her visual worth. Sheās tiny- petite was perhaps a more appropriate word, with dark hair that cascaded down over her shoulders. She was remarkably plain in a way that offered a glimpse of simplified beauty. Lucius narrows his eyes suspiciously, taking a slow step closer to her and away from Rodolphus. āWill sent you? To us?ā She nods, fidgeting with the edge of a flattened piece of paper in her hands. Lucius looks back over his shoulder to Rodolphus, confusion riddled all through his features. He, of course, shrugs in response; obviously having no idea himself as to why the agent would send a girl over after the brink of a full day of callbacks. Pale brows flex over the bright beryl stare that Lucius lays on him, his lips tight and his eyes widening expectantly. Rodolphus sighs, fingers moving to pinch at the bridge of his nose while his free hand found his already cocked hip. āI really hope you already have something prepared.ā 3/1/0
Gwenog Jones: Social Media AU
i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautiful before iāve called them intelligent or brave i am sorry i made it sound as though something as simple as what youāre born with is all you have to be proud of when you have broken mountains with your wit