#Verse; Her Legacy

[traceyc-uk]

„pweaaaaase! sit with us!“

cassie would try to win the new fifth year for the slytherin table hehe.🥹

(based on your comment at the munch munch scenario, i needed to do this!🤍)

I loved this munch munch post, how could he say no to that adorable pouty face 🥹 though I don’t know how much of a win it would be…

The other house tables would breath a sigh of relief once they see his terrible table manners

Only half exaggerating, he’s actually very well behaved

[starwrittenfates]

@maddmuses liked this post for a starter with Ciri in her Hogwarts Verse! --- (for Hermione)

It wasn't easy being the new fifth-year and transfer student who was not only a late bloomer when it came to magic, but something else entirely. Her adoptive parents had sent her to Hogwarts to learn how to control her abilities. It seemed she was the talk of the school, even in the Gryffindor common room.

However, she wasn't going to let it stop her. Holding a huge stack of books which was all the coursework she had to brush up on so she could stay in equal footing with everyone, Ciri had managed to lose her grip on them, bumping into someone. "Oh no. I'm so sorry. Let me help you." She offered a hand. "I'm Cirilla, but you can call me Ciri."

[melien]

[cyarskj52]

[lookingforasphodels]

... and some bitter people keep screeching that the Starks are the protagonists. ASOIAF is a phenomenon because of those messy dragonlords, it is known.

The whole expanded verse is Daenerys Targaryen's legacy.

[malkaleh]

JOAN.

Dauphine of France. Princess of Scotland. Princess of Albion. Queen Regnant of Scotland. Queen of England. The Half Breed Heathens Whore Of A Wife. My Darling Wise Thistle. Little Wise Eyed. Jeanne.

Though Joan’s father died not six months after her birth his love for her was remarked upon - indeed it was said that he could hardly bear to be apart from her. His death was something her mother Mary never recovered from despite two subsequent marriages and the reminder of him in her black haired and grey eyed daughter seems to have been a mixture of grief and solace to her. Joan proved to be a serious child - interested in books, archery and riding but with a keen talent for music she was included in and educated in rulership from a young age, particularly by her paternal grandmother who remarked that she saw ‘very much of Marguerite of Navarre in her’ she was excellent at politics, at rulership and in her concern and interest in the lives of all her people but she was not warm and nor did she have the charisma and ability to draw the eye of her mother, something that drew unfavourable comparisons. Her marriage was made out of pragmatism on her part and no one was more surprised than Joan when it turned into love.

(inspired in part by this edit by @emilykaldwen (ABBY MY BELOVED))

[blurrypxls]

Corey and Charmaine

[dokuhai]

@keikakudori // continued from here.

RANGIKU WAS HAVING AN INCREDIBLY HARD TIME HOLDING HERSELF BACK. Just the sound of Aizen Sōsuke's voice was setting her on edge —--- a nails on chalkboard, grating sort of thing it was. His reply to her mention of poisoned tea came across as snide, and thus, forced her eyebrows to knit together as she regarded him. A romantic cliché, he had said... and while he seemed so sure that such methods weren't his style, Rangiku wasn't convinced. For how many times had his words been laced with venom? The confessions shared by her comrades used against them when the moment had been just right... not to mention the way he had poisoned Hinamori Momo; a romantic cliché all on its own, though perhaps not quite as literal as a lethal drop mixed into a cup of hot liquid.

The blonde had been there to pick up the pieces of the gobantai fukutaichō, even as her own heart was left broken in the aftermath of their betrayal. Momo had worn her heart on her sleeve... RANGIKU KNEW EVERYTHING THAT AIZEN HAD SAID TO HER, HAD DONE TO HER —--- was this man even remotely self-aware?

❝ You know what, you're right —--- you'd much rather do the stabbing yourself. Twisting the knife and making sure they hurt in all the worst ways... nothing impolite about that, right? ❞ Rangiku couldn't control the way she spat out such hostility; seeing him again had truly brought out the worst in her. A raging sun, she was —--- her heat blazing and oppressive as it worked to snuff out everything in its path.

There would be no shadows, here. No secrets, or doubts... not anymore. Not if she could help it.

Rangiku took a moment to steady herself. She would never learn the truth if she kept villainizing him... after all, a cornered animal was never quite eager to place it's trust in the one hunting it. With a slow, deep breath, Rangiku prepared herself for the more difficult aspects of this conversation. The topic of Gin had never been an easy one for her to discuss, much less openly to the one who had attempted to kill him. So much of their affair had been private... words left unsaid, unspoken, as they had poured their trust in one another. A trust that was left utterly broken, now, but that was beside the point.

She did not miss the way Aizen flinched at her mere mention of Gin's name. It almost seemed like the man had grown hesitant in response —--- his confidence waning as he stumbled over his words. It was so unlike him, Rangiku thought to herself... and upsetting, at the same time.

Gin had meant something to him, hadn't he? He was more than just a blade at his side, ready to kill for him...

Rangiku suddenly felt sick. Anguish churned in her belly, alongside the scorching heat of her anger, making its way up her throat like bile. She pushed it down as best she could, and worked tirelessly to slacken the balled up fists at her side.

She had avoided these truths for so long. She had known something was off, from the very beginning... and yet she never asked Gin what was wrong, or what he was hiding from her. She was too afraid of what he might say. Even now, as she stood upon the precipice of the answers she sought, she was absolutely terrified of what she might hear. But these answers weren't just for her own sake... they were demanded by Central 46, and the sōtaichō himself.

Rangiku sank to the ground, knowing fully well that she needed to be seated in order to carry on with this conversation. She crisscrossed her legs and grasped her knees as her gaze fell from the crucified man, only to seek out imperfections within the floor. Rangiku listened intently to the words he spoke, and noticed the way pain bled into each one —--- Aizen's tone utterly wrought with grief. Perhaps he had been tormenting himself, all this time... though Rangiku was hard pressed to feel any sympathy towards him.

'Will you believe me?' he had asked. 'You must be willing to accept what you will hear.'

❝ I'm not willing to accept anything but the truth, ❞ she replied quietly, though still unable to meet his gaze. What she hadn't anticipated, however, was Aizen's version of the truth... and how corrupted it seemed to be. His claim that he was not himself when he struck Gin down made her want to burst out laughing. Who else was there to blame for all of this? Did it make him feel better, to blame it on the corrupt power of the Hōgyoku? The one he alone had chosen to merge with? This was a self-inflicted fate; one Aizen could have avoided entirely, had he not been so hungry for power. At least, as far as Rangiku was concerned.

❝ —---You're still not telling me why. What caused you to turn on him? You say you weren't yourself, but how am I supposed to know what that means when I don't trust that I EVER actually knew who you were? ❞

[godkilller]

HITMAN AU thread continued with @dokuhai from here.

BOLD OF RANGIKU TO EVER ASSUME GIN WASN'T WATCHING HER AKIN TO A CIRCLING HAWK, especially in the midst of her shows -- where the venue was packed tight, patrons were allowed up close and personal within arm's reach of her. He made some minor adjustments to the performance's allowance of crowds so close, putting up a railing barrier between them and the stage, but there was only so much allowed that could still offer everyone an unobstructed view of the Karakura City beauty. Ultimately... someone who was willing enough to commit by all means a suicide killing to send a message and spark further gang violence wouldn't mind scaling the 4-foot-tall barrier to knife her in the throat. Security guards spaced apart could react in time, ideally, but the opening still remained -- no matter how slim, it was one that Gin intended to focus upon outside of the various other ways Rangiku's heart could be stopped.

Needless to say, his own heart rate was elevated for more reasons than one during her performances. Perhaps one day, if the venue was smaller and more easily manageable, he'd have the time to truly appreciate her craft. For now, he seemed fully capable of appreciating her beyond the scripted dance and sway of her body upon the stage -- she needn't try, he was already entranced, though Gin did his damnest to not show the success of her allure. Did she know he thought of her endlessly?

He couldn't help but let out a single brief scoff of a chuckle, her words on his tattoo -- the brand of belonging to the corrupt nightlife of Karakura City, to the most dangerous and powerful man within the country no doubt -- of how it suited him, despite its negative connotation and often fear-inspiring realization it granted to any who caught a glimpse. He was not a person who brought on the feelings of 'safe' like Rangiku now experienced -- contradictory of her to glimpse upon a mark of ink that signified just how much of a killer he was and feel as though she was with a protector. How quick romance could wedge its way into murderous skill ---- there was a softness to the fact that he'd kill for her, wasn't there?

The serpentine slithering up his arm and over his shoulder, splaying into rolling coils onto his back, was extensive, and yet only those who knew Ichimaru Gin well enough to get his shirt off of him could ever know the full extent of his devotion toward killing in the name of Aizen Sousuke. Their discussion, her seeing more than a glimpse, was inherently intimate.

❝ Suits me, eh? ❞ A low murmur whilst pale fingers delved through stray wavy strands, the back of his knuckles brushing in a feather-light graze against the slender formation of her shoulder blade. His smile was tangible, spreading slow, easing into the playful purr of his voice. ❝ Why, Rangiku, are you admittin' you like a bad boy? ❞

For all of his dismissive and diverting ploys, Gin wasn't stupid; annoyingly so, he was aware of the fact that Rangiku seemed interested in him in return. She was accustomed to acting that way with her clients, no doubt, but the tells were there for this being a spark of mutual interest. So he flirted back, unrestrained, easing away from the futility of attempting to remain uninterested in her.

The space between them felt addled with yearning, as though tugging at the edges of themselves to step forth and close it -- a simple biting urge that could equally so speak of soul recognition; you know me, even if Aizen took everythin' away -- you'd still know me. At least, he hoped that was the case, as though banking the entirety of himself still existing based on the possibility that she could see what he could no longer recognize in himself. They were both stripped of armor here, her of her performer's outfit oddly used the same way Gin donned a bullet-proof vest.

He'd be an idiot if he ever tried to convince her or himself that this was merely part of his job. Did his gaze linger now, stealing away a glimpse of her as she dressed to engrain into his memory? Well, yes, and he didn't feel too terrible about the fact that he caught her topless from the bar portion of his attached kitchen -- considering she wasn't cowering to cover herself, he felt no guilt in enjoying a more human indulgence of checking her out, her breasts and curves silhouetted against the bright haze of the television screen behind her as she slid his shirt over her head. He'd not dart his eyes away if she looked toward him, he had a hunch she wouldn't protest the intrusion. Matsumoto Rangiku was a bombshell in whatever she was (or wasn't) wearing. The shirt was baggy on her frame as it wasn't snug on his, either, but she was still voluptuous enough for her figure to shine through.

That in and of itself was an oddly instinctual thing to feel pleased by -- the sight of the woman of his affections wearing his clothes, as though the deed left her scent-marked and claimed, scratching an itch he didn't know existed until now. He thought shamelessly of kissing her whilst pouring them both a drink, eager to return from the connected kitchen and be near her again. Gin approached and subsequently sat, placing their drinks on the coffee table a few feet in front of the couch she was now nested upon, looking comfortable and far more relaxed herself. His shoulders mirrored that sentiment, and Gin sank in his seat with a huffed breath as she clicked through the scrolling selection of action movies available to watch.

❝ I could go for somethin' mindless -- how 'bout one of those stupid racin' movies, y'know, there's one where they drive a car into space or some shit. ❞ His hand reached to skim atop hers, not quite snatching to take the remote and relieve Rangiku of her browsing duties, but playfully wriggling to slip the device from her grasp, leaning in to be more playful about the act. That, or he'd inspire her to demand she retained it and hijack their movie session away from some ridiculous car-themed action movie toward something of her tastes instead -- he wouldn't mind either way.

[melien]

I just hope we'll be together for 999 more years💜

[zorkayaplus]

@avaere

while he certainly cannot measure up to what she had managed to put together for his own birthday, kaveh attempts to recreate the scene itself. though, instead of a meal prepared at the shared residence, he has made it his mission to survive a somewhat demanding trip out to a nearby oasis. it's nothing too grand, but it's surrounded by small bushes and some palms, a small pond which reflects the stars when they decide to make themselves known.

why the evening, one would ask, especially in the desert ? the reason is simple, there are some atmospheres that cannot be recreated during daylight. such as the scene kaveh has put together by the oasis, visible as soon as they pass the last hill leading them up there.

he'll take pride it in once he catches his breath again.

hand in hand, kaveh offered a small laugh as the the sight of lanterns and flowers surrounding a blanket on the sand comes in sight. it must look a little pathetic, but it's something he has been urging to do for a long time, sharing a silent moment under the stars with someone he loves. what better time than her birthday ? he has prepared fruit for the evening, alongside some meals he took the courtesy of throwing together earlier that afternoon. on top of the blanket there are some pillows put neatly around, the lanterns decorating the sand around the blanket as well as up in the nearby trees and bushes.

" it's… not much, but," kaveh says under his breath, catching up ( as he had fallen behind a bit ) so he could pass her therefore guiding zarina over to the spot. glancing back at her, he held a warm and loving smile. " it's all ours, no one else knows about this oasis." naturally, there's a gift awaiting her as well, a small box sitting neatly on a pillow meant for her. alongside, there's a card but it only reads happy birthday in beautiful writing, for its the content within the box which deserves the most attention. once opened a bracelet will be revealed, but it's not just a bracelet. no, it's a bracelet put together by silver and gold in the shape of vines braided together. on top there's a blue gem in the shape of a crescent moon combined with the remaining part of its shape in a crimson gem. underneath the plating of the gems there's an inscription reading " love endures ". why those words exactly ? for there have been turns and twists in their story so far, confessions and disagreements which could easily have become the end of their journey together had it not been for endurance. and with that in mind, the architect had taken up the challenge of working with intriciate designs ( he made it ).

love endures, much like the two of them.

pulling zarina closer, kaveh's hand shifts to around her waist, landing a soft kiss on top of her temple. " happy birthday, zarina. "

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚! 𝟎𝟕.𝟐𝟕.𝟐𝟑

It's the evening of her birthday and she accepts his invitation to go… into the desert. Out of all places, she expected everything but the desert. The colder air, the far way walks, leaving behind the luscious greens of the forest. The sights are beautiful, they always are. They’re the opposite of Snezhnayan pristine plains and the luscious greens around Sumeru City. The desert is filled with danger, sand, but such beautiful nights. The world still lives even when there is so little to find and, oh, those gorgeous oases that you sometimes may find. However, what makes today’s evening far better is the company: Kaveh’s company. 

The architect is obviously out of breath by the time the majority of their trip seems to be done. He’s not used to the sands, making it hard to walk and requiring a different type of endurance. Long distances are tough on him and that’s why she tries to slow down as much as possible, but there is no showcase of tiredness or exhaustion on her face. The moment the Sun sets down and the heat goes down, she comes alive. It concerns her that Kaveh is pushing himself (yet once again) when there’s no need. They could’ve stayed home together and celebrated her birthday like that, just enjoying dinner and a pleasant evening together. ( You’re all I need for the rest of my life. )

An oasis. It’s not the first time they make their way to one, but she’s never seen this one. Kaveh’s eyes sparkle and she’d rather watch him than the beauties of nature, but still follows through, curious as to what he has in mind. Whenever he had something he was excited about, he got that sparkle ,that fire, that brightness in him. Can she help keep it alive? Yes, it’s her birthday, but somehow all of her wishes are circling around him. From his happiness, to his smiles, to his presence close to her. She’s smitten and there is no denial she’ll remain smitten for the rest of her life. 

As they walk, she grasps his hand just a bit tighter. The scenery is magical, but she cannot believe what she sees next. Words are stuck in her throat and she feels a sudden sensation of stupor. As if her mind refuses to calculate and act when she witnesses the pure beauty she sees before herself. The fruits, the small dishes, the pillows, the beautiful place. It’s obvious he’s taken time to travel for so long back and forth. He must’ve ran back and forth so often, so many times. For her… To give this for her birthday? To spend their time together like this?

It causes her eyes to open ever slightly more, lips suddenly pressed together at the sight because she cannot find a word befitting this thoughtfulness and this warmth that blossoms in her chest. She can only imagine how much time it took Kaveh to find this, to plan this, to hope the weather will be good, to ensure all fruits and dishes will survive the wait for them to get here. All the calculations, all the thoughts, all the hard work. It’s suddenly overwhelming, but in a way Sokolova has never experienced. He brings feelings to her on a silver platter, he makes her feel and helps her be a human. 

What is this feeling in her chest? It’s not just love. It’s not just gratitude. It’s something more, something stronger and it almost makes her break. Not in a way where breaking meant being hurt, but a similar break when her mother would caress her hair after she was rescued and suddenly everything was worth it. The struggle, the hardships, the pain, the stubbornness, the fight. It’s all worth it to receive this sense of safety, acceptance, love. 

Zarina doesn’t want to let go of his hand, ever. But she has to, only for him to give her that warm and loving smile that makes something inside crack further. He shines, he shines so brightly in this magical scenery. He doesn’t seem real. This love, this attention, this safety, this adoration. His smile is her treasure and she’d do anything to keep it on his face. At that moment, she thinks that if he’d ask her to give him everything she has - she would, but he’s too kind and too nice and too prideful in his own way to ask her for something so selfish. But she wants him to ask something so damn selfish and she wants to give him anything and everything he wants. She wants him to ask her for her life, for her everything to be his. It’s messy, but if he says it… then she can ask for the same. 

It’s funny how she almost misses his words. A blink, she’s back to reality and notices that only Kaveh can get her to space out for a moment when she looks at that smile and starts to daydream. It’s unusual of her, she must stay vigilant no matter what. 

He kept this oasis a secret just for them both to enjoy it. This beautiful scenery, this carefully organized event, this moment shared just between the two of them. He’s such a romantic and she cannot believe her life allowed her to be with someone so wonderful. He’s the opposite of her: bright, colorful, and loving. The life shines in him and the colors make him mesmerizing. Under his loving smile and adoring gaze, she melts and thinks that she’s lost. She lost to him, but happily. She lost to his heart and he made hers want to stay with him forever. Ah, she lost on all accounts… How wonderful. Genuinely. 

“It’s beautiful,” Zarina finally speaks out, mirroring his loving smile as they step forward to settle down in this paradise made just for them both. They sit closely together and Zarina cannot believe there is another present already there for her. The card is read and she chuckles, affectionately and warmly but her breath gets stuck in the airways for a moment when she lays her eyes down on the gift itself. A bracelet. Knowing of Kaveh’s debts and his struggles, she begins to feel concerned how much this cost him but then her eyes catch on to the unique design of the bracelet. She knows all jewelers in Sumeru, knows their stock and knows what they do with their accessories, but this is unique. It’s astonishing work, she must admit. The jewels are symbolic and she knows it must be custom made. There are too many telling details and Sokolova is mesmerized, silent while studying it with eyes shining brightly with fascination. 

Kaveh must see this by sitting next to her and then bringing her closer. Just when his hand is wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer and his kiss on her temple, she finally reads that phrase: love endures. Her mind connects the dots and it causes her internal, metaphorical cup filled with emotions of love for him to spill over. Zarina carefully closes the small box, not wishing to accidentally lose it or break it from what she feels at that moment. Not that she can break metal, but Sokolova feels like anything can happen with the overwhelming sensation of feelings making her feel far more energized and yearning for him. It feels like she wants to cry, but no tears spill. Her heart beats so fast in her chest and it becomes hard to breathe, the physical responses of her body to the emotional and mental stimulation make her act on instinct. 

It must be strange how she puts away the box without putting the bracelet on, but it doesn’t take even a second for her to climb on his lap and hug him tightly, face buried in the crook of his neck. She is overwhelmed with the wish to keep him for herself, to have him all to herself, to keep him so close to her. She wants him to be with ehr, to remain with her, and to stay with her. The animalistic and possessive desire to cage him, to have him only look at her like this, but she pushes it away. It’s not the right response, she wants to love him, not own him. 

“I love you, Archons know it, I love you,” she whispers, emotion thick in her voice and there is a tingle of desperation. The hushed tones are rare for her, but it's obvious there is repression of something more. Solely because it’s always how she lived: to repress, to control, and to move forward. However, she feels that cracks when he’s giving her everything she ever dreamt of and wishes for. No sacrifice will be too big if it means to keep him safe. Love endures, it will. Love ensures, it is without question. “I love you, Kaveh, I love you so much. Thank you for this, for everything.”

She keeps repeating it, but with each word her voice becomes more of a whisper, a heartfelt confession one after another. This warmth, this scent, this presence, this voice, this life… Zarina wants to protect him. She wants him to be happy. She wants him to be happy with her. And the world is living in the constant battle between the strongest, so she must become even stronger to keep him safe and to ensure their peace won’t be disturbed. No matter how blood her hands will get, she’ll wash them away before embracing him like this. It doesn’t matter what she has to endure as long as their love endures. 

Finally, when Zarina loosens her grip around him and lets him see her face, her expression is one of love and adoration. The warmest she can only be around him. Their smiles reflect each other’s in that moment and the silence only lingers for a moment before Sokolova’s hands rest on his chest to push him back to lay on those pillows with her on top of him. Her smile doesn’t falter when she brings her face closer to his and kisses him. 

First, a chaste kiss.  

“Thank you for the gifts. I’ll wear that bracelet whenever I go out now.”

Second, a kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“You’re driving me insane, Kaveh. Take responsibility.”

Third, a kiss on his lips. A deeper, more intimate and she finds his hand, letting their fingers intertwine and be locked together in this moment of pure bliss. They can enjoy fruits and those delicacies he brought just a bit later when she gets her full of kisses and make out sessions. Not crossing the line, not yet. Just enough to have the need to catch breathe and chuckle before distancing to actually enjoy more of today’s evening. There is still an oasis waiting for them, to bathe under the moonlight and have the most joyous night. 

[atannaz]

IT IS FAMILIARITY THAT FILLS THE ATMOSPHERE, : NOT MAGIC, &. yet something zatanna could detect with her eyes closed. ❝ not that i am complaining or anything, ❞ voice like a silken thread, laced with that charm so signature to the magician! ( birthed by the mere playful nature of hers. ) arms fold over her chest, &. weight leaned on one side of her body ; bright cyans never abandoning their target. ... @excalibiur + dick, ❝ but something tells me this visit isn't just to exchange pleasentries. ❞ BLAME IT ON THE YEARS THE TWO HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER. ( not that there is fooling a magician anyway. ) ... gaze does allow the playfulness to fade into something more sincere, almost concerned. ❝ dick, ... what is it? ❞

sc.

[sakurarisen]

fill out the angst application below.

basics

> NAME - Seraphina Fair

> AGE - 21 (24 in Rebirth and Genshin verses)

> SPECIES - Human (elemental phoenix/human hybrid, unknown to her)

bold what applies (italicize what somewhat applies)

drinker ; smoker ; done/does drugs ; knows what a broken heart feels like ; has committed a crime ; suffers a physical disability ; suffers a mental disorder ; has experienced severe trauma

details

> BIGGEST FEAR -  Dying without making any kind of difference or change in the world. Although Sera isn’t clueless and knows ‘changing the world’ is very much unlikely to happen in her lifetime, no matter how much she tries for it and would love to see it herself, it terrifies her to die without having left even the tiniest of impacts - To know she was nothing more than a drop of water into a vast sea, unable to change anything for anyone, or even help anyone. There’s so much to change, so many people who need help in a world so designed to beat them down, the thought of leaving them without doing everything she can... That’s genuinely a nightmare in itself to her.

On the same level is losing her family and loved ones; her husband is frequently involved in dangerous work, they have kids she doesn’t doubt are always in danger due to having them for parents, her brother is oftentimes in the line of fire for his own work, her friends also have dangerous jobs... All it takes is one slip, and that, too, is a nightmare that often plagues her when she least expects it.

> RECURRING NIGHTMARE - Sera tends to relive her various traumas in her nightmares at least two or three times a week. If she’s lucky enough to not have a nightmare about her trauma, it’s one involving losing her family or being captured by people who want to do them/her harm, or, on rarer occasions, being lost in absolute darkness with no way out, no light, and no body to hear her scream. Thankfully, these nightmares slow to one to two times a week when she’s able to sleep next to her husband, or when her brother is visiting,but they’ve never stopped completely.

> SOMETHING YOU MISS - Her lost siblings, Ami and Takeru, the childhood she never had, and several people she met during her travels she, unfortunately, no longer has contact with. Friends she hasn’t seen in long periods also fall under this category, as well as her brother, Thoma, when she’s unable to see him due to the (physical) distance between them.

> BIGGEST REGRET - Not knowing anything as a child, and being unable to save Ami and Takeru. Although she had no idea what was really going on until shortly before their passing, when they told her as much themselves, Sera has never stopped regretting she hadn’t done things differently, or tried everything in her power to save them, somehow. This regret is doubled when she discovers Thoma is her brother rather than her cousin, both having been raised to believe the later due to his being given up to their aunt and uncle, and realizes they never questioned their obvious similarities as children, missing out on the bond they now share up to this point.

She also heavily regrets when she’s unable (or inable) to help others, and walking away, for any reason, or being unable to stop someone’s pain even long enough to bring them the tiniest of smiles, constantly weighs on her. Logically, she knows there are some things she just can’t do, change, or handle, but it still hits her hard, and lingers.

> A SECRET - Sera is, at her core, an elemental phoenix - Specifically a snow phoenix - who has slowly assumed human form over her multiple lives and rebirths. At this point, only her core is an elemental being; She’s long since shifted fully into a human and is technically a human past this; Aria, the snow phoenix, has buried herself down deep and, for all intents and purposes, ‘gone to sleep’ in her attempt to be a human. This has resulted in the ‘frozen lake’ Sera often feels/mentions sits within her and knows there’s a great deal of something under, and occasionally can access a bit of ‘water’ from from the occasional crack in its surface, but can never break through - The ice is too thick by her own unconscious doing in every lifetime, this one being no different, and subconsciously, she knows breaking the ice would end her life... Even if she has no idea she is Aria, or that the phoenixes ever exist/existed, or that her brother, Thoma, is Aria’s twin, the fire phoenix Aelius, tucked away in him much the same and born first due to their rebirth cycles falling out of sync, turning the twins into ‘older brother and little sister’ instead.

pick one

fire or water

mother or father neither-

to hurt or be hurt

eerie or gory

unrequited love or no love

TAGGED BY: It’s been in my drafts so long I CAN’T REMEMBER-

TAGGING: @waltzofphoenix​, @yoroiis, Snag it! <3

[serenofroses]

new rarepair side characters for my verse: Satele x Senator Grell.

aka Satele and Jace never met again after Return events. Because Jace was discharged from military for severe PTSD and retired to a farm with emotional support animals.

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[evermorcd]

@snowinabottle: ❛ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑.  ❜ / meme

𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀 moment to realize what was happening. The pie, the candles, the dimmed lights in the bunker... BIRTHDAYS - especially later in his life - weren't exactly an occurance to celebrate. They were always on the road, their father was too busy hunting to even remember what date it was. And if he and Sammy got some junk food as a treat for themselves ( and bought by themselves ), that was what they would have described as a real party. Hell, they didn't even have a real home! Now pieces started to somehow fall into place: the bunker functioning as headquarters ( an house, you could say ), to say the first thing popping up in his mind. And NOW THIS. An actual---- birthday?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 up and down, from the evidently handmade cherry pie set on the table he was sitting at to Amelia, who was staring at him with hopeful and cheerful eyes. Why she did this was out of his thinking. Their relationship was surely less tense - actually, they were finally starting to be good after years of on and off. But such a gesture seemed... TOO MUCH, for someone like him. ❛  Did you make it yourself? ❜ the question wasn't meant to sound incredulous. What he was actually asking was " did your cousin somehow poison it? ", because Dean had no doubt Amelia was able to bake a delicious pie. Did he thank her? Not yet: he was still too shocked. Was he going to thank her? WITHOUT A DOUBT.