#also he is a naga because i like snakes and monster boyfriends

[itsmeimcathy]

{ klarolineauseason } week 3: creatures

Caroline is a young witch traveling the world and collecting magical objects; Klaus is the genie (though he prefers to be callen Djinn) trapped in the oil lamp she buys in a Turkish market.

Despite her promises of helping to free him, he is still forced to grant her three wishes, but he is not as unhappy about it as he would like - considering that his last client (he refuses to call them masters) had tried to turn him into some sort of a pet.

Although… he wouldn't even mind that too much this time, as this new pretty owner seems far kinder than the last one.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Caroline hugs her bag to her breast as she hurries back to the hotel, almost vibrating from the curiosity that is accompanying her ever since she left the Grand Bazaar. She can't wait to be safely behind closed doors - and a barrier or two - to finally analyze her most recent purchase.

She glances over her shoulder, but it doesn't look like she's being followed. Good.

Her hotel is situated in a densely populated area of the city, so she breathes a bit more easily once she can hide in the middle of the crowd, disappearing between businessmen and tourists and local people going about their day. She tightens the hold around her bag and half runs towards the revolving doors of the hotel, sighing in relief when the cold air of the foyer caresses her face.

Without looking back she rushes to her room, locking the door and setting up a sturdy magical barrier around it: the salt poured out on the window sill and at the door threshold should be enough of a protection. Then she finally turns the content of her bag all over the bed, smiling when the new, precious object falls and bounces amidst her more mundane belongings.

A normal human wouldn't notice it, but Caroline can feel the pulse of powerful, ancient magic surrounding the antique bronze oil lamp. Even without being a magical artifact, it should belong in a museum - thankfully, this time she didn't have to break into one to steal it.

She holds it carefully, turning it this way and that to look at the inscriptions - she would need her books to translate it, but she still can appreciate the beauty - and marveling at the elegant workmanship.

Her fingers caress the exquisite engraving of a snake, its body twisting around the surface of the lamp until its fangs bite its tail on the other side. A bit of dirt cakes the writing under the snake, and she tries to scratch it away with her nails.

All of a sudden, the metal becomes incandescent.

Caroline hisses from the pain but refuses to let it go, just in case that's the only guarantee protecting her from certain death - and then she's engunfeld by a thick, dark mist.

Before she can cast any kind of spell to disperse it or protect herself, she feels something slithering slowly around her feet, making her lose balance and fall back onto the bed.

A dark chuckle comes from somewhere inside the mist, making her shiver - then, a deep, male voice follows.

"Are you the new owner of the lamp?"

Caroline bites her lips to prevent herself from blurting the infinite questions crowding her mind - she did have a half idea of what the lamp was, but this truly goes far and beyond her wildest expectations - and waves a hand to try and clean the air around her.

"I promise you I mean no harm," she tries to assure the mysterious creature, ignoring the cold thing curling around her calf. "I just have a few questions, if you'd allow it?"

"How sweet of you to think you could harm me, enchantress," he murmurs, his voice now coming from somewhere closer.

"I am not an enchantress, I'm a witch." She coughs lightly, clearing her throat. "And would you mind making this fog disappear? I swear, I won't attack unless I'm threatened."

A brief pause. "Is that your first wish, then, witch?"

"No, I…" She frowns, looking for the right words. "I don't have any wish."

"Oh?"

The fog starts thinning out, finally allowing Caroline to see a full view of the hotel room and the creature standing right in the middle of it.

Though standing might be the wrong word: as the strange being who came out of the lamp - for that was obviously what happened, although she has barely had the time to wrap her mind around it - looks human only until his hip bones, and from there downwards his skin turns into pale golden scales covering a long, impressively thick and smooth snake tail that seems to curl and curl on itself infinitely. 

Caroline swallows, speechless, when she realizes that it's the end of that tail that still circles her ankle - imprisoning her?

The man (male? Creature?) watches her with his arms folded behind his back, utterly unbothered with his nakedness, his head tilted as if he was the one studying her instead of the opposite.

There are shackles-like golden bands around his wrists, and more golden chains hang from his neck, covering half of his torso - or maybe it's a single one, impossibly long, wrapped around him several times. 

He leans slightly towards her, the chains tinkling together, a suddenly cold look in his amber - reptilian - eyes. "Tell me then, witch. What do you want from this Djinn?"

So he really is a genie, she thinks distractedly. The tail is a surprise.

"I truly don't want anything," she insists, unable to keep her eyes from wandering all over him. "I just followed the traces of magic and it led me to the lamp - I collect artifacts, that's it. I had no idea it was yours."

She's not about to take advantage of this creature, or worse, keep him as a slave; besides, Djinns were rarely benevolent beings, mostly enjoying twisting and ruining their masters' wishes - and who could even blame them? Besides, thanks to her own magic, she lacks for nothing.

Of course, now she just has to explain this to him.

"Unfortunately, you should have thought of it before stroking the lamp," he says softly. "Now I am bound to grant you three wishes - and I must say, I can't wait to hear what such a pretty human would ask for."

Caroline scoffs before she can stop herself. "Why, so you can take your petty revenge by misinterpreting and ruining my wishes? No, thank you."

The Djinn smirks suddenly, his fangs glinting wickedly. "Oh, a smart one. Now I am really intrigued."

"Look," she says quickly, hopefully sounding respectful. "I'm not looking for trouble - I don't want to engage in a battle of wills with you. If there is some way I can help you, feel free to ask… I'm sure there must be something you want after being cooped up in that lamp for who knows how long."

His handsome face loses the amused expression of earlier, taking on a more serious and thoughtful one, and suddenly Caroline has the distinct, uncomfortable sensation of being weighed and judged as if she was in high school all over again. She squirms on the bed, her hands still cupping the lamp, but her eyes don't leave his - trying to convey her sincerity. 

The fact that his tail hasn't tightened around her leg is somewhat of a comfort, as it means he doesn't mean any harm - yet.

"It seems your words are… truthful," he wonders, eventually. "Are you truly willing to help me escape this imprisonment?"

"Yes, of course," it's her hurried response. "So, how can I help?" She offers the lamp back to him, as it seems rude to keep holding onto it, but he doesn't even spare it a glance. 

Instead he draws nearer, slithering over the wooden floor, his claw-tipped fingers reaching out to her - gently curling around her neck, holding her without hurting. "I want freedom, and I want revenge", he murmurs against her lips, his thin pupils widening slightly with longing. "Not necessarily in this order. I offer you my services if you promise me yours."

Freedom and revenge, she repeats silently. I suppose it's understandable - I can work with that.

Caroline nods carefully, his cold hand following her movements. "You have my promise, then," she vows, sincere. "Do you have a way to, like, seal the deal…?"

His blood red lips curl upwards, making an endearingly tiny dimple appear. "I do."

Then he surges forward and covers her mouth with his own, swallowing her surprise gasp and biting down on her lower lip with his sharp fangs.

She tastes blood - both of theirs, as she feels him push his own deeper inside her mouth, making her tongue tingle as if his blood itself is made out of pure magic. She closes her eyes, swallowing instinctively, just as his tail moves further up along her body, curling carefully around her waist - keeping her close until the last drop of his blood has slipped down her throat.

He slowly leans back, the tip of his tongue licking at the remnants of her blood from the corner of his mouth, looking entirely too self-satisfied. "Your name if you please, master of mine."

"I'm-I'm Caroline," she stutters, blushing a bit. That caught her off guard, to say the least.

"You may call me Klaus," he tells her softly, his sharp talons caressing her cheek. "And now you belong to me until I have granted your wishes and you have granted mine, Caroline."

And maybe even after that, he muses, admiring the pretty pink hue upon her cheeks. For the first time in centuries, he is finally looking forward to something. 

[mythicamagic]

Myth, I’m sorry if you answered this before, but can you make a ranking of your favorite monsters? 👀

Some monster boyfriend thirst got mixed in with a couple of these, I can only aplogise.

Werewolf - 8/10. A classic but not perfect because the formula can get a tad repetitive and modern interpretations have kind of robbed them of a bunch of mystique, but when its there, they're great. Van Helsing's design for them is the best interpretation, no I will not accept criticism.

Naga -  10/10 - a more recent love of mine. I'm sorry but you can get very creative with a person who is 30% human shaped and 70% tail.

Alien - 5/10 - I'm not into sci-fi stuff, so unless the alien be looking like Lotor, who is a 10/10 I'm likely not into that. BUT I can appreciate 'the Predator's design' and a couple of others.

Vampire - 11/10 - yeah I never grew outta my vampire phase. I don't care if it's basic bitch taste. There's a reason this monster icon has endured. But again I prefer ye olde interpretations of vampires rather than modern ones, unless they manage to capture the style and sophistication of melting candles, sweeping gowns, unrepentant attitudes and such. That said, Lost Boys slaps.

Dragon - 10/10 - They're awesome, hello? It's a mother trucking Dragon!

Goblin - 1/10 - no thank you

Angel - 9/10 - eldritch monster angel is superior to 'a dude with a halo and wings' gimmie cursed text speech and weird designs plz.

Hellhound/Gytrash/Church Grim - 10/10 bc they're good bois.

Gargoyle - 8/10 - Great monster but if we're talking 'monster boyfriend' they lose points due to turning to stone during the daylight hours.

Zombie - 2/10 - Warm Bodies is one of my favourite guilty pleasure films but they're honestly pretty boring and a tired concept.

Demon - 10/10 - classic. Encompasses a lot of different takes on the interpretation. The trope of summoning a demon in exchange for something will always be top notch. Good for horror or hotness depending on the story.

Centaur - 4/10 - top half hawt and I can appreciate an archer, but if we're talking monster s/o territory - unlike the Naga thing where you can separate them from being snakes because they just feel like a different species...centaurs just be straight-up horses down there.

Siren - 8/10 - sinks ships and drowns sailors using their melodic voices? Dats pretty cool bruh.

Ghost - 7/10 - angst/yearning potential and sure body possession can be fun, but ultimately it remains a sad s/o to have if you're a human

Orcs - 5/10- I'm not hugely into the big beefy type, so that's a pass for me, but I respect those who stan these guys.

Selkie - 7/10 - seals are cute and the concept that comes with it is a classic folktale but your bae will always belong more to 'the ocean' than to you.

Kelpie - 8/10 - I know I just gave Centaurs shit but Kelpies can shapeshift into humans sooo I know which one is better for an s/o.

Kitsune - 9/10 - spicy tricksters? With that aesthetic? Hell yee

Incubus/Succubus - 10/10 - self-explanatory. Like...c'mon.

Mermaid - 10/10 - classic.

Shark merfolk - 11/10 - good shit, yes. Give me the sharp teeth and danger vibes at the beach.

Tengu - 7/10 - Cool wings. Dunno about that mask though.

Nokken - 7/10 - I can vibe with a guy who plays the violin but the drowning women part is a little offputting. Also he always seems to be depicted in lakes or swamps, not particularly sexy water to hang around, unlike at the beach with merfolk.

Death/Grim reaper - 9/10 - hey the grim reaper has a lot of great depictions in media. Also sometimes death just needs a wife and it's always a great story of longing and pining.

Fae King - 11/10- Will let you disappear into the woods, never to be seen again. If you just give me your name, I can hook you up with one~

[thetravelerwrites]

Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Part Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Anthropology, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Infertility, Birth, Oviposition, Egg-Laying Words:

Commissioned by @ivymemnoch​! The reader and Dr. Halvorg discuss his lingering infertility problem. Amai lays her final clutch of eggs. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“Good morning, class!” You said on the first day.

“Good morning!” Fourteen bright voices responded.

All of the children except for baby Yenu were sitting on their tails behind desks in a room that had been set up as a classroom by the staff.

“So, every day each week we’re going to work on a different subject,” You began. “Mondays are reading and language comprehension, Tuesdays are maths and sciences, Wednesdays are social studies and economics, Thursdays are geography and history, Fridays are fun days with arts, crafting, music, and educational games. Today is Monday, so we’re going to start with reading. You should each have a workbook appropriate to your developmental level in your desks, so please take out your reading workbooks.”

As the children shuffled and searched for the right book, Dr. Halvorg stepped inside the classroom with a clipboard. You raised an eyebrow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I’m observing the children in a school setting to see how they adapt,” He replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And I’m also assuming how I teach, correct?”

He dipped his head sheepishly. “I was curious. And it’s for my research.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Mm.” You turned back to your students and fell into your teacher’s voice. “Keenai, if you would begin reading the first sentence, please?”

Keenai picked up his workbook and started reading. “The small dog lives in a red house.”

“Can you tell me which of these words are verbs?”

“Um…” He looked at the sentence, frowning.

“To remind you, a verb is an action word, something someone does.”

“Uh… lived?” He replied slowly.

“Very good.” You said, and he smiled in relief. “Tani, you’re next. Read the next sentence in your book.”

“The red house was built on a wed… wedeness…”

“Wednesday,” You said. “That’s a hard word, I know. Can you tell me what the noun is in that sentence?”

“House?”

“Good! A noun is a person, a place, or a thing. I’m a noun, you’re a noun, the room we’re in is a noun.”

“Is Nenish a noun?” Jinsa asked.

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, you’re a noun!” Jinsa said, pointing at Nenish.

“So are you!” Nenish interjected.

“Hey, hey! Settle down, please!” You called over them, sitting on the edge of your desk. “Fuma, you next.”

Fuma read from his book, and then Amaia. Next, you went down the line of the four-year-olds, having them read a sentence and find colors, shapes, numbers, or sounds in the sentences. The three-year-olds were next, and they simply read small sentences. You then had the one-year-olds spell and say three-letter words.

Their quick development was normal for nagas, as they tended to age quickly until they hit puberty, when their aging progress slowed to accommodate for yearly hibernation, but it was also startling in conjunction with the developmental levels of similar creatures. You had never studied the advancements of a species’ young so closely before, and you had to admit, it was fascinating. You could see why Dr. Halvorg found it so interesting.

You set the children writing tasks appropriate to their learning level and took a moment to talk to Dr. Halvorg, who was scribbling quickly in a notebook.

“They have computers now that you can write on, you know,” You told him, amused.

He looked up over his glasses at you and quirked an eyebrow. “I am aware of that, thank you. I’m not quite so old-fashioned as I seem, regardless of what Amai might tell you.” He looked back down and continued scribbling. “I’m a chronic note-taker. A bad habit I can’t seem to break, though with my profession, it’s often a strength rather than a weakness.”

“Hmm,” You hummed. “And what do your notes say about my teaching?”

“Adequate,” He replied, still scribbling. “Don’t misunderstand, that’s not a criticism. I hold everyone to an extremely high standard. If you hadn’t met expectations, I would have dismissed you.”

“So I meet your expectations?” You asked sardonically.

“At the moment,” He said, snapping his book closed and standing up. “I still want to observe your other classes before I’m completely satisfied.”

“Hmm,” You said again.

True to his word, Halvorg attended every class that week, observing you interacting with the children. Other than a question or two about your future curriculum, he stayed quiet. At the end of the week, he asked that you submit a weekly progress report until you either found a replacement or were dismissed.

It seemed excessive to you, and you were beginning to wonder if he still saw the children as an experiment. He seemed to care about them, but how much of that was genuine and how much of it was his own self-interest? You were starting to feel leery of and disconcerted by him.

Perhaps he picked up on this, because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. He had you direct all of your questions and reports to his assistant and rarely picked up his phone. Any conversations were brief and succinct. He did send you notes on your curriculum, making suggestions for each child. If you weren’t already suspicious of his motives, you might almost have though it sweet.

“I think Halvorg is avoiding me,” You told Amai when the two of you went to lunch together. Now that the two of you could hang out after all the years, you made it a point to set time aside for each other and had lunch at least once a week.

“What makes you say that?” Amai asked, drizzling dressing over her starter salad.

“Ever since he watched me teach classes, he’s barely spoken to me. He seemed excited to exchange research notes when I first arrived, but now he seems to have no interest in speaking to me since he finished observing class.”

“He could just be busy,” Amai suggested. “The four year old’s birthdays are coming up. He always does something special for the kids on their birthdays.”

“Are you concerned that he only sees your children as test subjects?” You asked her. “He seems obsessed with them.”

Amai laughed. “I thought that way in the early days, but he genuinely loves kids. If anything ever happened to me or Yenuno, I’m confident Halvorg would take care of them.” She took a sip of her mineral water. “Are you coming to the kids party? You’re invited, obviously.”

“Will there be clowns? I hate clowns.”

She snorted. “Nothing so gauche. I think Halvorg set up a treasure hunt. The kids always love whatever he plans. Honestly, I know I complain about him, but he does make it easy for me sometimes. I haven’t had to plan any major events since the kids hatched.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It’s strange to me how involved he is.”

Amai sat back in her seat and eyed you shrewdly. “Did he ever tell you about his son?”

You looked up in surprise. “Son? I thought you said he had no children.”

“He doesn’t… technically.” Amai set her fork down. “You didn’t hear this from me so don’t repeat it, but he had a wife nearly a hundred years ago who cheated on him. He raised a boy, thinking he was his son, but the child was actually fathered by the other man. His wife left him and took the boy with her and he never saw him again. I don’t think he ever got over that.”

“Oh, god,” You replied, horrified. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“He’s spend the last several decades saving dying races from the brink of extinction. In a way, he thinks of those children he helped bring into the world as his children, too. And every time he has to let them go, it’s like losing his son all over again. I think the fact that he gets to help raise our babies is something of a gift for him. Trust me, it’s not something he takes for granted.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that,” You said in dismay.

“Halvorg is stuffy, strict, and a stickler for protocols, so he can be difficult to read, but I assure you, he loves my children as if they were his own. It may have started as research, but he has a family now and I think that’s what he wanted all along. Try not to judge him to harshly.”

You conceded with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The following Saturday, you attended the kids birthday party as requested. The kids were excited and zooming around the receiving area, shrieking and laughing, all of them wearing party hats and nothing else. Amaia was piggy-backing on Dr. Halvorg, her tail wrapped around his waist for stability and her arms hugged around his neck. Dr. Halvorg walked around completely normally, as if this was a typical action and he was used to it. He watched the children playing with a wide, fond grin on his face.

You walked over to Amai and Yenuno, who were watching from the refreshments table with Yenu, feeding her crackers.

“Nothing like a little bit of chaos in the morning,” You said.

They laughed.

“You’ve never seen them after a group kill,” Yenuno said. “They’re uncontrollable after they’ve taken down an elk together. It’s pretty incredible to watch for me, personally. Nagas in the wild typically don’t work together and they especially don’t hunt together, not even siblings.”

“They are very close and friendly, for nagas,” You remarked. “Markedly different to most snake-related species I’ve met.”

“It’s Amai’s blood and influence that’s doing it, I’m sure,” Yenuno said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She’s the most friendly and cheerful person I’ve ever met.”

“To be fair, sweetie, you haven’t met all that many people,” Amai said, laughing.

“That is fair,” Yenuno conceded. “My point stands, though.”

“Alright children, gather ‘round!” Halvorg called, and they flocked to him, swirling around him like a whirlpool. “Now, you guys are going to split up into teams to help Nenish, Tahara, and Sadji find their gifts. Nenish will have Tani, Jinsa, and Keenai on his team. Tahara will have Amaia, Osan, Ishni, and Dashu on his team. And Khuzho, Chidil, Fuma, and Itheti will be on Sadji’s team.” He handed a small leaflet to each team. “Follow the clues to find the treasures! Go!”

The kids scattered, giggling madly.

“Come get something to drink and rest for a minute, Halvorg!” Yenuno called. “I think you’ve earned it.”

Halvorg grinned boyishly, an expression that brightened his face and made him look… well… rather handsome. He jogged over to the table and had a ginger ale. Elves have hypermobile ears, and his ears were high and wiggling slightly, a normal indication in elvish peoples of happiness and excitement.

“I think they’ll really enjoy their gifts this year,” Halvorg said, taking sips of his soda. “And the treasure hunt is half the fun. It’s challenging, but not too difficult. If they work together, it should be no trouble at all.”

“You didn’t get them history books like last year, did you?” Amai asked with her eyes narrowed. “You might as well have burned the money you spent on those for all the use they got out of them.”

“No, I learned my lesson,” He said defensively. “I bought toys.”

“Educational toys?” Amaia asked shrewdly.

He stopped mid-sip and looked at Amaia with an eyebrow raised. “…maybe,” He said into his cup.

Amaia rolled her eyes. “At least Yenuno and I ordered some stuff the kids will like.”

“You don’t know that they won’t like them,” I said. “I loved educational toys.”

“Yeah, but you’re a nerd,” Amaia said, poking you playfully.

“So what? Your kids could be nerds, too. I’m pretty sure Osan is going to be a Star Wars fan. He’s been talking my ear off about the Mandalorian.”

“It’s so strange,” Amaia said, ignoring your response and looking off in the distance. “I thought that because the kids were hatched in clutches, they would be like twins or triples or the like and have similar interests and personalities, but they’re all so different. Different likes, different traits, different styles. It’s amazing.”

“It amazes me, too,” Yenuno said, staring into his drink with a wistful expression. “My siblings and I separated when we were young, so I don’t know what they were like or if we had similar interests. Honestly, until recently, I never gave them a thought. Watching my children work together… it makes me wonder what my own siblings were like, and if they’d still be alive today if we had helped each other.”

There was a contemplative silence for a few minutes, broken by excited voices reentering the receiving area.

“We found it!” Tahara said, holding up a wrapped gift. The other four were carrying smaller treat bags that had their names written on them. “Uncle Maël, look!”

“Excellent! Well done!” Halvorg said, bending to give Tahara a hug. “Now, let’s wait until your brothers return with their gifts before we open them, okay? How about you five play tag until then?”

“Okay!” Tahara said.

“I’ll play with you,” Yenuno said. “I’m starting to get fat, preparing for the incubation period.” He patted Amai’s belly, which carried his three eggs, likely to be the last clutch they’d have together.

“How soon?” You asked Amai as Yenuno took off to chase with his children.

“Any day,” Amai said with a weary sigh. “And I’m ready for it. These little guys are heavy.”

“Boys or girls?”

“We won’t know until they hatch. It’s too hard to get a clear picture with the ultrasound, and besides, even if it could, both the male and female genitalia are internal, so it’s nearly impossible to tell.” She took a sip of ginger ale. “We’re really hoping for at least one girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love the boys more than anything, but we’d like Amaia and Yenu to have some sisters.”

“I’d like to be present for the laying, if that’s okay,” You said.

“For your research?” She asked.

Your head rocked back. “No, because you’re my friend and I want to be there for you.”

Amai smiled fondly. “Oh. Of course, thank you.”

Dr. Halvorg had not added anything to the conversation with you and Amai, and instead went to the table and made a plate of snacks. You gave Amai a look and a cocked eyebrow, and she nodded understanding, slipping away from her spot to watch her husband and children play.

“Dr. Halvorg?”

He flinched and looked up, glancing around furtively and noticing that the two of you were alone. “Yes?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again before responding, “I’m doing no such thing.”

“I’ve requested at least three meetings with you this past month, and you’re always too busy,” You said dryly.

“Well, I am,” He said, turning. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Are you avoiding me because I asked you out?” You asked bluntly.

He missed a step in his stride and stopped.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized from your professional demeanor that you wouldn’t be open to interoffice dating. I apologize.”

Halvorg sighed and turned to face you. “It’s not that. Not exactly, I mean.” He set his plate on the table and looked you full in the face for the first time in weeks. “I haven’t given a thought to dating in…” He rubbed his forehead. “Gods… decades. The question took me off guard, of course, and I actually had to sit down and give it some thought. I’ve been wrapped up in my work, of course, but I think I was just distracting myself.”

“From what?”

He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t even really talk about it with Yenuno, and I would consider him my closest friend.” He sighed heavily and avoided your eye. “I’ve ignored my personal life in favor of spending my career and fortune in this century helping races achieve something I want for myself.”

“Children?” You guessed.

He nodded a little morosely. “Not just that, but that is a significant part of it. I’ve been following the reproduction rates of Celtic fae since the fae were originally integrated and it’s decreasing year by year. I live in constant fear that my own race will be extinct in my lifetime.” He quirked his head at you. “Your race still seems to be fairly prolific, is that correct?”

“Oh yeah, I have a bunch of brothers and a truckload of cousins. No problems there.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what the problem with my race is. I’ve studied genetic traits, magical impediments, marriage and divorce rates, and ratio of coupling to conceptions.The numbers are terrible and I don’t know why. That’s what drives me crazy. I hate not having an answer.”

“Have there been miscarriages?”

“No, that’s the crazy thing, the rate of conception is extraordinarily low. I think there have only been three live births of Celtic fae blood in the last year.”

“Oh, jeez,” You said, sitting against the table next to him. “I didn’t realize the problem was that severe. Have you considered whether it might be a physical problem?”

“How do you mean?”

“Have you ever done a sperm count? Or had an MRI of the area to see if there’s a blockage? That kind of thing can be genetic and men tend to be shy about stuff like that.”

He tilted his head and frowned. “No, I haven’t. It actually hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, I’ve been so focused on my work to distract myself, it may have worked too well and I ignored such things.” He looked at you and smiled. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

You smiled back. “Good. I wonder if the females of the race have a similar issue. It may have been something bred into the people over time, over centuries.”

“That’s possible,” He said. “There’s certainly a precedent; some creatures have been bred to extinction. Remember the pug?”

“That tiny dog breed with the squashed face?” You said. “Yeah, they died out a while ago, didn’t they?”

He nodded. “That was human interference, though. Yenuno’s people were dying out due to antisocialism; too reclusive to even propagate their own species. Yenuno was the only one of his kind to take up this project, and even he was reluctant.”

“He seems happy now,” You remarked.

“Yeah,” Halvorg said softly, watching Yenuno laughing and chasing his kids with a sad kind of jealousy. “He does.”

You watched his face, the deep, deep sadness creasing his face and making him look older than he was.

“Follow up, Halvorg, see a specialist. This may have a fix that didn’t exist the last time you tried.”

He nodded, smiling at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will.”

As you stood up, you bumped his shoulder lightly. “Thank you for talking to me. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to discuss such a sensitive subject. I get the feeling that you don’t share yourself with many people.”

He laughed. “No, not really.” He looked up with a smile that seemed more sincere. “Thank you for listening.”

Amai went into labor three days later. She was taken to the laying room, where both Yenuno and Dr. Halvorg were present in addition to the interspecies OBGYN. You were suited up in scrubs and the paper gowns that surgeons wear, as was everyone else in the room besides Amai, who was completely naked, and Yenuno, who never wore clothing. There were natal heart monitors on her belly and an EKG hooked up to her chest.

Amai was sitting on a specially designed chair that would allow her to pass the eggs through her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the doctor. She was already sweating and panting by the time you arrived. The OBGYN and Dr. Halvorg were having a quiet conversation. You went to the other side of Amai and took her hand, trying not to wince when she nearly crushed your fingers.

“Is she okay?” You asked in alarm.

“She’s not fully dilated yet,” Halvorg said, pulling his braid into a surgical cap. “The eggs are getting impatient, it seems.”

“Yeah, well, so am I, so they can settle the fuck down!” Amai shrieked at him.

He bore the abuse with no reaction other than a wry smile. Yenuno wisely said nothing and simply wiped Amai’s forehead with a cloth.

“It won’t be long,” the OBGYN said. “She’s almost there.”

“Just saw me open and get them out,” Amai moaned. “It would hurt less.”

Yenuno tried to kiss her cheek, but she swatted him away weakly.

“No,” She said peevishly. “No touching ever again.”

“You said that last time,” He said, smiling fondly.

“Yeah, but I mean it this time,” She said sulkily.

“Of course you do, darling.” He patted her head. She scrunched her face up at him in annoyance. She was always adorable when she was miffed.

“I’ll make you into shoes,” She said sourly. “And a matching purse.”

It took a while for Amai to dilate fully, and by then she was very tired. Yenuno was looking worried; she’d laid several eggs over the years and never struggled this much before. Perhaps this being their last clutch was a good idea.

“Okay, I think we can start pushing now,” The doctor said, getting ready to catch the eggs. “Amai, when you feel the next contract, hold your breath, bear down, and push.”

“Okay,” She breathed. “One’s coming.”

We all braced for the push. Amai took several quick deep breaths and held it, her face pulled tight in pain and effort, doubling over in the chair as she did. You and Yenuno held her hands and patted her back and murmured encouragement. Halvorg was waiting with a soft cloth to take the eggs for cleaning, after which they would be laid in a specialized incubating carrier to be taken to Yenuno’s cottage.

The first egg came slowly and with much screaming. The doctor caught it and handed it off to Halvorg. The shell of the egg was soft and needed extremely delicate care, but Halvorg was well practiced by now and got the egg washed and into the carrier under ninety seconds and returned for the next.

The second egg came more quickly, but Amai screamed the whole time. By the time the third and final egg was laid, her voice was raw and she was too exhausted to scream.

But it was over. She fell back into the recline of the chair as if boneless and breathed in shallowly, her eyes barely open.

“You were amazing, darling,” Yenuno said gently, kissing Amai’s face. “Rest. I’m taking the eggs to the cottage. The children will visit you when you’ve slept.”

She turned her head slowly to look at him and touched her fingertips to his face, tracing down his cheek, chin, neck and chest before letting her hand fall back to her side, and her eyes closed. Nurses came to whisk her away to a recovery room, the OBGYN following behind. Yenuno and Halvorg left to take the eggs to the cottage for the incubation, and you were left alone in the laying room.

As you were shedding the paper gown and surgical cap, you noticed a small book lying on the ground. It looked to be one of Halvorg’s research journals, though it was smaller than his usual ones. He must have dropped it out of his back pocket when he was disrobing. You picked it up and took it with you with the intent on returning it to him in the morning.

And of course, you’d completely forgotten by the time you woke up.

Amai recovered enough in a few days to be up and walking around. She and the children took turns keeping Yenuno company, as he grew morose if he was left alone too long. You had declared half days until the new babies hatched so that they could have more time with their dad.

One afternoon, after the children had left class for the day, Dr. Halvorg came in and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Hello,” You said pleasantly, closing the folder with their latest work for grading. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I wanted to let you know I took you up on your advice,” He said, looking a little bashful. “I went and saw a specialist. They’re going to be doing some tests soon. Sperm count, blood tests, an MRI. Any test that can be done will be done.”

“Good!” You said, swinging your chair around. “I’m glad. Maybe you’ll finally get an answer.”

He sighed, looking pensive and anxious. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I still wanted to thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“I didn’t push you to do it, Maël,” You said. His eyes narrowed at your use of his first name, but he didn’t say anything. “I just brought the subject up. It was your decision to do it.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” He replied. “I admit, I’m nervous about it. I could either get wonderful news or have my worst fears confirmed. I don’t know how I’ll react to either option.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked him.

He looked at you in surprise. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t,” You replied. “But this is the kind of thing you need friends for. And since Yenuno is tied up with the eggs, I could be a good substitute. You don’t even have to think of me as a friend, if you don’t want to, just an emotional support associate.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I think of you as a friend.”

“Well, thank you. I was hoping we’d get there eventually. So? What do you think? Want some support for this?”

“Not for the tests, I can do those by myself perfectly well,” He said, adjusting his tie nervously. “But… for the results… perhaps… a friend would be nice.”

“I’ll be there for you, then,” You said, standing and patting his arm. “Does Yenuno know about this? Have you talked to him about it?”

“No,” He replied. “I didn’t want to tell him while he’s dealing with his own new babies. Besides, if the news is not good, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. If the news comes back positive… I don’t know… I think this is one thing I’d rather keep to myself.”

“Except for me, you mean,” You said.

He nodded concedingly. “Besides you.”

“Let me know when the results come back and I’ll go with you. We’ll make a day of it, go to a spa, get a bikini wax together, eat some overpriced salads, buy something ridiculous we want but don’t need. It’ll be a blast.”

He actually laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[plztumb1rhelpmegetoveranxiety]

A Bat in Fire

Ship: lamp

Word Count: 1,838

Summary: Virgil doesn't like most of his past, but his boyfriends are there to help him.

Virgil ran as the hunter lit up the forest, branches hitting him in the face and his head pounding. He could tell distinctly that he wasn’t running as fast as normal, but his legs didn’t feel heavy at all.

The hunter, pleased with the amount of foliage he set on fire, threw his torch into a nearby bush. The bush shook and the hunter shouted, “You have three options, bat. You can fight me now and have us burn together, you can perish as you’re cornered like a rat from the flames, or you can run away to your little hiding place. If you choose that last option, the men of this village and I will track you down in morning as there will no longer be anything alive to hide your lair.”

Virgil’s mind raced at the human’s words, giving thoughts quicker than he could make sense of them. It supplied him with the image of Janus fast asleep, peacefully spread out on the floor of their burrow, before Virgil could even begin to figure out what his own thoughts were.

“Either way I’ll return the bones of the slaughtered children to their families!” Virgil wanted to scream, but couldn’t find his voice. He’d never heard of anyone but humans hurting children, even Janus would never stoop that low. The hunter was just speaking of the lies and atrocities he made.

The hunter’s eyes scanned the-now bright-forest. The only thing alight in his area was the bush he threw his torch into.

Part of Virgil was yelling at himself to sprint to the burrow and save Janus. While the other was yelling that Virgil still had enough time to make it to the mountains, yelling that Janus would only make him slower so neither of them would make it out alive.

But then the hunter’s eyes locked with Virgil’s and the thoughts were drowned out. The vampire felt as if he couldn’t move, even as the hunter reached for the crossbow on his hip. The human’s hand looked almost golden in the light.

That was when the plants behind the hunter erupted.

There was a flash at the hunter’s hand and suddenly Virgil found him blinding to look at. Virgil snapped his head away instantly. His thoughts took the opportunity to come crashing back down on him.

His legs felt like they could move and time once again felt like it was passing. He blinked a few times before forcing himself to look back, despite his better judgement.

As soon as he did it felt like his soul left his body.

Thick coils covered the majority of the hunter’s body. Unlike the human’s skin, the coils reflected the firelight in a way that it made them look like they were made of it. They connected to a human torso towering over the hunter.

Blood was speckled around the naga’s mouth.

Virgil only then realized how much of the forest was actually on fire when a flaming branch fell by Janus. Apparently made Janus realize, too, because he was startled enough to loosen his grip on the hunter enough for him to kick away the coils and tumble away.

Virgil watched as Janus regained his focus only milliseconds before he was tackled by the hunter, brandishing a dagger and wearing a more bloodthirsty look than he or Janus ever wore. As soon as Janus’ back hit the ground he was already flipping the two of them to pin the hunter instead.

The stench of blood hit Virgil as the hunter blindly swung his arm holding the dagger. Causing Virgil to finally notice how the hand that originally went for the crossbow was now missing. The cause for the blood around Janus’ mouth finally clicked.

The naga ignored the flames of the grass under them as he began bashing the human’s against the ground over and over again.

Virgil pried himself away and started running. At that moment it felt like Janus told him too. He didn’t know how, Janus hadn’t said anything at all or even looked at Virgil, but he knew Janus wanted him to run.

Then it all was black.

Virgil felt a weight on his chest and opened his eyes. When had he closed his eyes? On his chest was Logan, fast asleep and using him as a pillow.

Virgil took a moment to appreciate the darkness of the room, despite the pounding of his heart. He attempted to steady his breathing before checking to make sure his other two boyfriends were also there and safe.

He let out a sigh of relief when they were.

Carefully, Virgil slid Logan’s head off his chest onto the bed. The thought of Logan’s head bloodied and crushed like the hunter’s briefly flashed to him. He flinched away from the thought as soon as it appeared. Blankets pooled around him as he did his best to sit up without disturbing the others.

He just sat there for a minute, his feet resting on the floor and facing away from the majority of the room. He didn’t like feeling so exposseed, yet the cold of the floor felt grounding. Eventually fear won, so Virgil stood up and turned around to face the rest of the room.

Only to feel like there was now something the way he just turned from.

He gave into the temptation to run his hand through Roman’s hair as he walked to the door. It really was softer than it had any right to be. Luckily the door didn’t make any noise as it was opened. Unlike the doors of Logan’s old apartment.

The hallways were too dark, it wasn’t a large problem for him. Virgil winced at the reminder of what he was.

His eyes played tricks on him by making the shadows masquerade as everything but a snake. Halfway down the stairs he could’ve sworn he heard a torch being lit which caused him to nearly fall down the rest of the stairs from how fast he turned around. The house remained as dark as ever though.

He made his way into the kitchen almost on autopilot. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until he was already starting the coffee machine and reaching for his mug. Virgil stopped to glance at the clock, and then reached for Logan’s favorite mug, too. It was only a few hours before Logan normally woke up for wor

Of course, Logan would never admit it was his favorite mug. Logan would say that having favorites was illogical and even if it wasn’t he’d never prefer a shoddily made clay mug over the ones he’d bought. He'd be lying though.

Virgil busied himself by focusing on the tiles of the floor until the machine beeped.

The coffee burned as he drank it. Patton would have lectured him to wait for it to cool down if he was there.

Clicking on the floor sounded in the hallway.

Shadows once again felt suffocating. The room felt like it was closing in on him and his breathing sped up again. He shot his arm with the mug outwards on instinct, forgetting there was a wall in front of it.

The mug shattered from the impact. Hot coffee spilled on and broken parts of the mug dug into his hand. Virgil yelped and stared at his new injury for only a second before he whipped his head around to meet eyes with the person in the doorframe.

There stood Roman, the half spider’s face a mix of shock and horror.

Virgil didn’t have time to say anything before they looked up in unison from the sound of something large falling upstairs. Two pairs of pounding footsteps shortly followed. The pain only felt more real as Patton and Logan rounded the corner and appeared next to Roman.

Logan’s breath hitched and he ran out again.

“Virgil you’re bleeding!”

Virgil tried to hide a quiet chuckle as his knuckles turned white from gripping the counter, “I’m not sure if I should call you Captain Obvious or dad, so I’m just going to settle with saying I can’t lose blood that wasn’t mine in the first place.”

“That’s not how that works,” Patton said in a much quieter voice.

“Pretty sure it is.” Virgil attempted to smirk but it ended up being more of a grimace.

Then there were arms around his waist, leading him out of the room and to the sofa. Based off of the clicking, Virgil assumed the aems belonged to Roman. At some point Patton had grabbed his arm and started checking over the injury.

By the time Virgil was being sat down Logan was already there with the first aid kit. It wasn’t long until Logan started removing bits of ceramic. Virgil did his best to not show how much it hurt, but it was hard to hide anything when Patton rubbed circles into his back and whispered comforting phrases.

Logan stuck his tongue out slightly as he attentively worked. Virgil made a mental note of how he looked uncharacteristically frazzled.

Soon his hand was bandaged and the three monsters were watching as Logan lectured himself while fixing his hair in the black of the television.

Roman spoke up first, the others only then realizing how unusually quiet he was, “Sorry for hurting you Virgil.”

“Princey, I’m going to be completely honest with you when I say that what you just said is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Virgil considered for a moment. “Except for when you tried to convince me that Cinderella is better than Mulan.”

That surprised a small chuckle out of Roman.

“To put in my own words," Logan started, "I also agree that the remark you just made was rather, for lack of a better word, stupid. Virgil’s injury is hardly your fault. I’m assuming that you merely found Virgil not in bed and you tried to find him out of concern. Then whatever caused Virgi to be out of bed also caused him to be scared of the sound you made. There’s very little chance it would have been any different if Patton or I were in your place.”

“But-”

“No buts about it,” Patton interrupted as he slung an arm around Roman’s shoulders. The conversation was settled when Roman melted into the touch.

Logan checked over Virgil’s hand once more, then excused himself to dispose of the garbage created and clean up the mess in the kitchen. Slowly, Patton wrapped his other arm around Virgil’s waist. Virgil also leaned into his touch.

Years ago Virgil would have stiffened up at the touch, but he’s never felt safer than he did with his boyfriends.

Later Logan would come back and cuddle with the rest of them until he had to get ready for work. Virgil would tell them he had a nightmare when his boyfriends asked and none of them would pry further. But at that moment everything was okay and Virgil couldn't imagine a time where it wouldn't be.

[death-himself]

Sickness ≠ Death

Part of the Four Human-Eating Monsters and An Apathetic Florist AU!

Summary: Virgil is sick. No one knows what to do when a human gets sick, but Logan is willing to sit through his boyfriends' panic as he reads articles about it. (Inspired by a comment by Nichts on AO3)

Warnings: Sickness, Talk of death, Brief talk of cannibalism

Word Count: 1,052

Previous Next (AO3 Link)

Why was it so warm? Virgil groaned as he sat up, his head feeling like it was spinning. Roman was snoring to his left, his arms draped over Patton’s torso. Logan and Janus were already up by the looks of things.

Virgil stood up, stumbling and nearly falling. Weird. His head was even foggier than before, and he felt like he was burning up and freezing at the same time. A shudder passed through his body as he walked down the hall.

Janus and Logan were in the kitchen, talking as they prepared breakfast. “G’morning.” Virgil mumbled, confused at how much his throat ached with that word alone. Logan immediately froze, eyes staring down at his eggs as he sniffed the air.

“You smell off.” He spoke bluntly, turning around to face him, looking him up and down. He placed the back of his hand gently against Virgil’s forehead. “Well that’s unusual, your forehead is extremely warm.”

Janus’s eyes widened for a moment, before blinking and shaking his head. “Well he can’t be dying.”

“It’s probably just a fever, I’ll be fine.” Virgil served himself some breakfast, trying to avoid the concern in both Logan and Janus’s eyes. Janus clicked his tongue awkwardly.

“Ah yes...a fever. I definitely know what that is.”

“Oh do you now?”

“Well of course.”

“Then what is—” Virgil was interrupted by a coughing fit, putting down his plate with a clatter onto the counter as he curled into himself. The two immediately scooted closer, Logan patting him on the back as he coughed, Janus scanning him as if trying to figure out what was happening.

Once the coughing fit was done, Janus stuck his tongue out for a moment, confusion written on his face. “What the fuck was that?”

“Just coughing, it’s fine.”

“I believe you should go lie down, Virgil.” Logan began dragging him over to the couch, despite his weak attempts at escape.

“I suppose coughing is a human thing you haven’t told me about?” Janus asked as he followed them into the living room.

“Do nagas not cough?”

“Well, snakes are incapable of coughing, so it would make sense.” Logan covered Virgil with a blanket, to which Virgil stubbornly pulled it off and tried to sit back up. His head began to spin again and he simply ended up collapsing back onto the couch, mumbling, “Alright, whatever.”

“Hmm...what do we do when a human’s sick?” Logan muttered to himself, rubbing his chin as he headed to their bedroom to grab his phone.

“Wait, you’re sick?” Janus looked startled, eyes blown wide as he stared at Virgil.

“I mean, yeah. That’s what a fever is.” Virgil coughed a bit, his eyes squinting closed for a moment. He heard Janus begin spewing out curse words under his breath, and when he opened his eyes up fully, he had a snake tail draped over his legs and a naga clinging to his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Just don’t talk.” Janus’s body was trembling slightly, his voice laced with worry.

“Dude, this isn’t a big deal—”

“I said don’t talk!”

Logan came back in mumbling through an article he had pulled up, with Patton and Roman trailing after him. “What’s going on?” Roman asked sleepily.

“Virgil’s dying!”

“I’m just sick—”

“He’s dying?” Roman scrambled over to Virgil’s side. Virgil sneezed, wiping his nose before opening his mouth to respond. But he was already too late, Roman had taken his hand and had begun shushing him, fear in his eyes. Patton was about to join them when Logan grabbed him by the shoulder and held him back, still reading his article.

“There’s no need to panic, humans can get sick without dying.” Roman and Janus weren’t listening, they were instead debating over their different beliefs in how to care for a dead body. Logan sighed, asking a still clearly shaken-up Patton to make some soup.

“—and humans would usually chop off the head, but I find that rather rude, so—”

“As interesting as this conversation is, could you not act like I’m already dead? Also I’m not a snake or a spider, so don’t chop my head off or eat me after I die!” Roman blinked, looking down at Virgil with big scared spider-puppy eyes.

“But you’re sick!”

“Sick doesn’t mean death.”

“They are likely reacting this way because they have lived in the wilderness their whole lives, as well as have more animalistic instincts.” Logan pointed out, pulling out a thermometer from the cabinet and sticking it in Virgil’s mouth. “If a snake or spider gets sick in the wilderness, that does more often than not mean it will die. Their concern is extreme, but understandable.”

“So he’s not dying?” Roman asked hopefully.

“No, according to Google, with rest and medication, his state should improve in a few days.” Janus hummed, quickly detaching himself from Virgil’s arm, his cheeks red and embarrassment clear in his eyes.

“Ah yes, I knew that. I simply wanted to mess with Roman.”

“You keep saying whatever makes you feel better, Jan.”

Logan instructed the two on how fevers work and what they had to do to treat it. Patton came in with a big bowl of canned soup, singing quietly to himself to get rid of any residual fear he still had.

After Virgil ate, they all curled up together on the couch, the warm-blooded people curled up next to Virgil, Roman lying at Virgil’s side playing with his hair, and Janus wrapped around and over everyone. Logan had placed a towel on Virgil’s head, as well as called Thomas to let him know Virgil couldn’t come to work.

As Patton and Janus fell asleep and Logan began drifting off, Virgil closed his eyes, his body feeling like it was on fire in more ways than one. He turned to Roman, who had been smiling calmly at him while twisting his hair around and between his fingers. Then a question came to mind.

“Would you guys actually eat me if I died?”

“Only if you wanted us to, my love.” Roman purred. Virgil wasn’t really sure how to process that answer, so he simply shrugged and closed his eyes again. He didn’t have to think about that for now. He was content simply lying there surrounded by their care.

[monster-bait]

oh cool not the only one who thinks that way. I'm always like why would such ... like me lol

Because you're 👏worthy 👏 of👏 love!���

😠😠😠 Don’t make me go cruising around with a pot of wet angel hair!

Seriously though, I think that’s a lot of the appeal of the whole “monster lover” thing, right? The personality/physical traits that make us feel lesser in the real world don’t really mean much in a world where different species of creatures are just getting by. 

When I first started reading some of the exophilia stories by writers in the this community, I was blown away by how...normal? a lot of it was. Like “he does the dishes and always asks about my day and rubs my feet when I get home and we love and appreciate each other. Also, he’s a snake.”

Like, that’s just straight up fantasy boyfriend/girlfriend/theyfriend stuff. Oh, you’re chubby and you don’t actually know how to do your hair? Well, your minotaur boyfriend doesn’t care, because he has a mega sweet tooth and loves your brownies and is also warm and funny. You’re on the spectrum and have a hard time getting people’s humor/reading a room? This naga has been living on a deserted island their entire life and doesn't get sarcasm either, and thinks everything you say is interesting. The whole “people like monsters because we can fix them and tame their monstrousness” narrative is SOOOOOO off the mark it can’t even see daylight.  

Your monster s/o likes you because you’re YOU, and that’s good enough.

[not-so-secret-wonderland]

hi i need someone to talk about some shit with me because like, call me crazy but

Luna Lovegood

as half french/ greek on her father’s side

and half Japanese on her mother’s

with the lineage Luna draws from both ancient Kitsune spirits and the Oracle Pythia

no wonder she knows so many things she shouldn’t and sees things no one else can, she has her eyes opened and waiting for the truth

like the truth about her cousin Draco, how Narcissa doesn’t even care about the war, and how much better their chances would be if the Malfoy’s stood on the side of the light.

her mother always called her Myōbu after the silver fox that used to dance above her head, whispering and chasing the light

she hasn’t seen the fox since Pandora died, but she knows he’s there

Draco Malfoy

A mix of the Black and Malfoy families, both powerful in their own rights

inheriting the power of the Shadow People from his mother, sneaking around the castle and not getting caught, having to lie so much it becomes his second nature, his number one defense against Voldy Modly, because he knows what lurks in the shadows is much scarier than a troubled man

the Veela Hydra that the Malfoys have drawn from for centeries effects his every walk with beauty, arrogance, and a surprising amount of power when he’s forced into dangerous situations, or angered beyond control

he fears someone will find out what he really looks like when he gets angry, but when Harry manages to almost die and he ends up yelling at the boy until his eyes are flashing and his hair is levitating, Harry just calls him beautiful

and because his stupid boyfriend didn’t realize that all the old wizard families are connected to ancient magic, they dive headfirst into research with Luna’s help.

Harry Potter

Snakes, he should’ve known snakes would be in his past, after all surely those who can Speak existed before Riddle

the ancestors on his father’s side are notorious for their snake dealings, some of them handlers, some of them working with the healing staff of Asclepius himself

drawing from Asclepius, Medusa, and Nagas, using magic like the distant realities he never got to know isn’t enough, but he doesn’t even realize his mother drew from the Sphinxes until Luna tells him

Harry learns the languages of his ancestors and wears them, and their snake affinity, with pride

his friends get roped into the new language thing too, don’t worry

Sirius and Remus

Harry demands they fire call the two and learn more, Draco doesn’t expect to but he does

Sirius also draws from the Shadow People, as most of the Blacks do. How else could he have snuck out of azkaban? Or hidden in plain sight for so long? but the Shadows don’t have to be bad, after all everyone always goes to the shade when it gets too hot

Remus can’t remember where he drew from before the Wolf. Once the infection is in ones body, werewolves mainly draw from the moon, it’s not all bad

Harry says that’s why he’s so calm all the time, Draco hits him for being rude, but Remus laughs and says the Shadows have always worked for him

The Weasley’s

Harry should probably be less surprised because of course they inherit most of their magic from Fire Spirits

though he does remember with fear the one time he actually made Ron mad and the air around them had gotten weirdly hot

he supposes it makes a lot of sense

but even more so is the Pranking Foxes of Huehuecoyotl Mr. Weasley calls on sometimes

Fred and George pefer that magic to the fire sprites, but not everyone can be so picky

no wonder their prank shop is doing so well, Mcgonagall is going to retire the second she finds out

Blaise Zabini

Blaise rolls his eyes when Harry asks, but Draco’s glaring at him so he divulges

His mother hails from the ancient Voodoo Priestesses and the Sirens that refuse to let sailors steal their gold

How else would she lure men in and get rid of them without a trace?

apparently the only reason his father made it as long as he did was because he drew from the Nymphs

Blaise refuses to tell him any Voodoo secrets and promptly kicks them out before Harry can start begging

Pansy Parkinson

It’s no secret that she’s the best seamstress in the school, rumor has it that she makes her ball dresses by hand because it takes less time than finding someone who actually does it right

Her family goes back nearly as far and the Potter’s, only instead of snakes she got spiders

Harry suddenly gets why Ron was always so afraid of her, but the more she tells him the more it makes sense

the eldest being the Djieien, and while Pans may not be a monster she’s defiantly hidden her heart ages ago so she didn’t get killed by Death Eaters

her father gives her the gift of being able a long defendant of Anansi, which really explains how she manages to know everything about everyone, even the first years

Harry decides that’s more knowledge than he feels comfortable with and makes a note not to cross her

Cho Chang

turns out her and Cedric are literally perfect for each other because they both draw from the dragons

Cho, her given name Nà-Huì after the stories passed down from her mother’s ancestors of the kind, gentle dragon Qilin that always wanted them of their choices and implored them to think of more than one solution to a problem

Her nickname comes from her father’s linage with Chollima. he tells her every day that she is too wonderful for anyone to ever control her

but when she meets cedric who hails from the water pixies and sunflower wyverns she doesn’t feel controlled she feels free

Millicent Bulstrode

They’re embarrassed to admit they have magic from trolls

Harry pats them on the back and says he sees it, which almost gets him punched in the face until he explains

Millie is a huge hoarder, but only if it matters. They keep the tickets from the concerts their mom used to take her too, the notebooks, poetry, dresses that they’ll never wear, makeup they hate, even the little squid their mom got them first year just because it reminds them of their mom

They also refuse to throw away the ugly blanket Pansy had made of the Slythetin crew as a joke, the ‘potter sticks’ button, or anything that reminds them of their friends.

Harry reminds them that there’s nothing wrong with being selfish when all you want is happy times with your friends.

Hermione Granger

after hearing about all her friends and how they all have some cool relation to magic, she feels rather down

Luna thinks it’s quite silly

so she gathers everyone around and tells them of the Owl of Athena, rumored to the greeks as a messager but really a creature so intelligent and woven into the daily lives of people that no one would think about their magic

something has to run all the owl networks and have a constant flow of information, but that information is so sacred it’s said the owl only chooses an inheriter every hundred years

but those who are chosen become the brighter spell casters of their times

and Hermione is near tears so she throws her arms around Luna, who can really only think of how similar her friend is to the owl griffin that’s so clearly in her bloodline

there’s just so much more that could happen?????