#and her dad is a lycanthrope ?!

[babydinosaur930]

*spoilers*

So first I chose to let Shadowheart’s parents go so she could be free of the curse and they could be at peace and then I got that line from her how her parents will never be able to give her advice or tell her what she was like as a child or hold her and I just …nope. nope. nope.

Reloaded the game like 6 times to pass that persuasion check.

Worth it.

[ephemeral-darkness]

Christmas is over, I'm back to my regularly scheduled programming (drawing tragic but slutty warlocks for various campaigns)

[shewolfofvilnius]

PSA for my Lycanthrope/Werewolf Shadowheart truthers out there:

In an epilogue (as of Patch 5 Hotfix 17) where you - and this is a list - : DO NOT romance Shadowheart, have her return to Selune, kill her parents, and keep asking about her until you get to "What's next for you?", she'll (after a recap of her grand adventures and future plans) suggest seeking out agroup of werecats that like to hunt followers of the Dark Gods (cough) Shar by moonlight - if they're real. And she is not joking. "I'd like to see if there's any truth to that" is the most serious line she says in the entire conversation.

Truly a GIFT from Larian and tracks with Wyll teasing a romanced Shadowheart about passing on lycanthropy to children if romanced; because remember her dad is a literal werewolf and there are a couple of very vague hints that Shar might have been repressing it in her

(ps I think this is absolutely her best ending I am not taking calls at this time)

[aceofsages]

Heyy! Could you do something where Enid was being ignored by someone and she starts crying, but Wednesday comforts her? Thanksss!

find on ao3

When Enid lands in San Francisco for winter break, she has to give herself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror. Her hair is still dyed, her nails are chipped, her face is—well. She ruffles her hair, trying to make it fall in a way that would make the scratches less obvious.

Point is there are a hundred and one points Mom will probably immediately grab to nag her with.

So, all she has to do is make sure she doesn’t get a chance.

“Okay,” she says, staring herself down. “Okay, you can do this, it’s easy, it’s easy. All you have to do is—”

The door opens, a woman walks in and Enid immediately starts looking into her purse, waiting for her to leave. Enid takes her phone out, a message from her dad that reads, Here at the arrival gate!

The woman leaves, giving her a look. Enid smiles at her awkwardly. God, what a bitch.

She turns back to the mirror, her eyes immediately falling to the scratches and fuck, if she can’t look herself in the eye—

“All you have to do is tell her.” She makes a face and winces at the pain that lances up her cheek. “Yeah, just tell her. Fuck.”

She hugs Dad tight when she gets to the gate, who moves a hand through her hair fondly. He doesn’t comment on her wounds, though his eyes do burn silver for a moment. She doesn’t know if she’s relieved or angry at him for not asking.

(He’s never asked, never spoken up. Enid pretends every time it doesn’t hurt.)

Turns out, there is something worse than not wolfing out: wolfing out wrong.

At the end of it all, Mom spits out, “If you want to live you’ll be gone by morning.” Her eyes are golden and her claws are out. Her brothers are watching her with horror, Adam standing protectively in front of the twins. It hurts in a way Enid doesn’t think she’ll ever recover from. “No child of mine is a lycanthrope!”

Just before she flees, she sees her Dad’s fearful face. She thinks it’s one that’ll never leave her.

----

Legend has it that the very first infected were Blood-Wolves. Bitten by Lycanthropes, a type of shapeshifting hound demon, blood-wolves were a by-product of wolf blood mixing with demon venom. They are said to have been used in the war against Cattails by the Lycanthropes. After the war, when a truce had been reached, they were cast onto the Material Plane as part of the concession made by the hound demons.

They intermingled with humans, who welcomed them into their midst, unaware and unheeding of the danger they presented. They never shifted during a full moon. Most of their children, however, did. Those who didn’t—

Well. Their first transformation at blood moon was an eye-opener. They tore apart houses with their bare hands, sank their fangs into babies and feasted on the flesh of their own species. At the end of their spree of destruction, they were decried as made of witch blood and dead moon, to be hunted to their own extinction. The last known blood-wolf descendant died in 1709, killed by Manon Rose, who later went on to create the ritual that would prevent blood-wolves from ever evolving again. Not much more is known about them other than their origins and their actions.

Nevermore’s library feels a little too silent, all of a sudden. Enid closes the book. Yoko looks up from hers. “You found it?”

“Yeah.”

“Not good, huh?”

“Nope,” Enid says, and bursts into tears. Fuck, fuck, she needs to stop doing this. She presses her palms to her eyes. Fuck. She’s not—she’s not a blood-wolf. Distantly, she feels Yoko hug her. None of it makes any sense. She’s not suddenly having the urge to eat babies or whatever. In fact, if anything, she’s even more controlled of her senses now. She remembers her transformation vividly, remembers Wednesday vividly, remembers fighting the Hyde and worrying and worrying and worrying if she was okay, if she was safe, if she was alive. All that mattered then was to eliminate at least one threat to Wednesday, the biggest threat to all of them and not once did she feel like, oh, where are the babies?

Fuck.

She sniffs once, twice, and waves Yoko off, “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

Yoko raises her eyebrows and drawls, “And I’m a normie. Listen, let’s search for answers tomorrow, okay? You’ve been here two nights in a row.”

Enid starts to refuse but Yoko continues, “Do you really want Wednesday to search for you again?”

Enid rolls her eyes and gets up, as if the memory of it doesn’t send a shot of warmth through her. She always likes it when Wednesday shows that she cares. A little too much at times, bordering on not-platonic, but Enid’s not ready to look at what that means, yet.

When she enters her dorm, she’s greeted with the sight of Wednesday on her typewriter. She stops when Enid enters and turns to her to say, “Good, you’re here. I was just about to send Thing after you.”

“Let him rest, I just did his nails today.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “You shouldn’t encourage his vanity.”

“And you shouldn’t threaten him so much. It gives him wrinkles.”

Thing taps on the table. All my wrinkles are because of her. Wednesday rolls her eyes again but lets it go. “Did you find anything?” she asks instead.

Enid sucks in a breath and walks towards her, irrationally aware of when she crosses their duct tape line once was. She extends the book out to her, and Wednesday takes and cracks it open. Enid plops down on her bed with a sigh, her hair fanning out behind her. Wednesday’s sheets are so soft. Maybe she should ask for it as a Christmas present.

She blinks tears out of her eyes.

“Well, this just turned interesting.”

“What?” Enid says, sitting up. Wednesday hasn’t looked up from the book. Thing sits on her shoulder.

“If I remember correctly, she married Maximus Addams. It is said that most Addamses thought that she’d end up killing Maximus.”

“Did she?”

“Oh yes, but Maximus took her with him. They loved each other a lot.”

“If you love someone, why would you kill them?”

“You’ll find, Enid, that most Addams’ love follows a similar vein.”

Like you and Tyler, Enid thinks suddenly, and sits up. “I’m going to shower.”

Wednesday waves her off, engrossed in the book.

----

She hadn’t expected the behavior to continue—to spread like it has around the pseudo packs in Nevermore Stupid of her, really. She’s a gossip queen, she of all people should know how rumors were easy to spread and easier to believe.  They’ve taken to ignoring her, going out of their way to show her that they’re ignoring her. People she was good friends with, people she helped, now look at her with disdain or step away from her as if she’s a plague. Some outright bully her. In the following week she finds herself crying so much that she’s perpetually dehydrated, and hating herself so damn much for being such an easy crier.

It’s the middle of the week when the incident happens. Morgan Todd, a fucking jerk, turns up in the quad with boils all over his face and hacking up blood at an alarming rate. He’d sneered in Enid’s face on Monday, gone so far as to pull wolfsbane on her. It was a weaker strain, admittedly, but it served to make them all realise that Enid was really fucking sensitive to it. She’d had to spend the night in the Med Bay, and Enid now knows who’s responsible for this. She’d known as soon as it happened and she’s so fucking angry— 

She confronts Wednesday at night.

“Why did you do that?” she asks immediately.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do!” Her throat feels tight again. She runs a hand through her hair, pulls. A tear or two slip out. “I can’t—Wednesday, I really really can’t do this. I told you not to retaliate.”

“Enid,” Wednesday says, weirdly careful. She steps towards her, hands extended. “Enid, it’s alright.”

“It’s not! Don’t you understand what you’ve just done?! You’ve given them a reason now! They’ll think I did it, they’ll think that—”

“Enid, no one will think anything because Morgan knows exactly who did that to him.”

She stops short. “What?”

Wednesday takes her hands and holds them tight. Her hands are deathly cold. “I couldn’t not do it. He had to learn—they all had to.”

“Learn what?” Enid asks, dazed.

Wednesday blinks and the action throws Enid off-kilter. She suddenly looks hesitant, almost, but her grip on Enid’s hands is sure. “That they can’t get away with it. Not unharmed.”

There’s a sudden clarity that’s rising in Enid, a sudden surety that that was not what Wednesday had wanted to say.

“Because you’ll come for them.”

“Because I’d raise hell for you.”

Enid swallows. She feels like they’re on the brink of something. Falling, maybe. “Why?” she asks, hushed.

“I told you, didn’t I? The mark you’ve left on me is indelible, Enid Sinclair.”

Enid steps closer. Wednesday’s eyes don’t have pupils. She’s never been close enough to notice, before. “Why?” she asks again.

Wednesday closes her eyes. “Because I didn’t know I was cold until you warmed me.”

Enid kisses her.

It’s a short kiss, a simple press of their lips. Their hands are still linked. When they separate, Wednesday chases her back and kisses her again, barely letting her suck in a breath. It’s still simple; achingly sweet and tender in a way she’s never thought to associate with Wednesday. She likes it.

She likes it a lot.

She wants to do this forever.

“Come to the Manor with me,” Wednesday says. Enid doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing. “Let me help you figure it out.”

“Okay,” Enid says. “Yes.”

Wednesday kisses her again, like she can’t help herself. “Good.”

[davrinassan]

i hate being a lore nerd on other peoples posts so i’m making my own untagged one.

shadowheart’s dad is a lythari, he was born (or transformed by another, more on that in a it) a lycanthrope, and he is not a werewolf. he has no hybrid form, only a wolf form, and werewolves in dnd are categorised by having a hybrid form. if shadowhearts mum was a lythari she would have been born one too, but shadowheart was just born a half-elf like her mother (or her mother was human, idk exactly), not a lythari like her father.

lythari and werewolves are so different that even cursing shadowheart as a werewolf would not make them alike in universe. you can be turned into a lythari but the process very explicitly requires consent from both parties, so she could be turned lythari if she desired it (and if you keep her dad alive/he was happy with doing it also).

i think having her not be born a lythari is kinda lame for multiple reasons but saying he’s a werewolf and implying turning her into a werewolf makes sense because of her father makes me wanna chew my arm off forgive me 😔

[jaebird88]

Act 3 spoilers about Shadowheart below about something from her story that’s been on my mind today.

So at a point in the game, you can find Shadowheart’s parents. Depending on certain factors and dialogue choices, they can either be set free or become motes of light and cross over to the afterlife. If the former, Shart will retain the pain she experiences on her hand because her parents are tied to it. Because Shar is a petty bitch.

Anyway, Shart’s parents hang out at your camp, and speaking to her dad can reveal that he is a lycanthrope. That’s right. He’s a werewolf (not a druid like so many people have been expecting, apparently). Which has the false memories we see make for pretty clever foreshadowing about this tidbit. He even throws out that Shart has a 50/50 chance of inheriting his lycanthropy. Which brings me to what’s been on mind: Why the fuck could Shadowheart not be a werewolf??????

Think of how unique her kit could be if she had some bestial abilities. Werewolves are infinitely cooler than vampires, anyway. And I’ll die fighting on this hill.

[spookyprime]

Said to my friend @whatdoyewant that I want to make a team for Martha and it has spawned into an entire AU. I should know better than to bother having ideas I’m so;;; i don’t even know how to begin explaining this. It’s like 12 years In the future- Martha is 13 and made her own group but no one will actually mentor them because they’re awful. She got some training from her step dad but he’s too busy running the farm and also being a super hero to help her full time. so she’s gonna harass her dad’s weird old sad friend Tim who lives on a yucky boat. He sucks tremendously. He’s got his own thing going on where Danny is trying to get him to help with his cult and take out his brother but Tim wants nothing to do with any of it he just wants to be sad on his boat because he’s convinced he’s gonna kill everyone he loves.

Anyway uhhhh character wise there’s Martha Kent jr- secret princess of the emeralds. kon is her step dad. She’s not a kryptonian but she uses her gem powers to emulate being one.

Robin- Sophia Garcia, her parents moved to Gotham from Puerto Rico when she was just a baby. She is not an appointed robin she sort of stuffed herself into the role because I want someone to do to Tim what Tim did to Bruce. She’s cringe.

“Aqualad” - Thumoc. He’s not aqualad he’s really truly just an Atlantean on vacation on the surface world. He’s having a fantastic time. He didn’t exactly expect to be roped into being on a team but he’s enjoying it.

Benjamin Orell- crybaby werewolf- a shadowmancer lycanthrope who would really rather just not be that. He’s more afraid of you than you are of him.

[talesofthedm]

Alright so Shadowhearts dad is possibly a lycanthrope, right? (I've seen some debate on whether the wolf was a legit part of the memory or a manipulation).

Anyway, Shadowheart inheriting the power and panicking because she is suddenly the thing she fears most and has no idea how to control it and Halsin just being soft and gentle and helping her understand this new side of her 🥺

[baldurs-gate-official]

Shadowheart, her Father, and Werewolves

So... Shadowheart's dad. He's a werewolf (possibly Lythari, but we'll get to that). I'm currently playing a werewolf in our own campaign so I've been learning more about them. Some of what I've found has me thinking about a few things:

What happened on full moons at the House of Grief? Did Arnell transform and just... Dangle there? Was he taken somewhere else for it to happen? Did Shar's influence somehow interfere with his lycanthropy? Did they use his lycanthropy as a tool in Shadowhearts training, given her fear of wolves? I have so many questions.

There's a kind of elven werewolf in 3e called Lythari. They're always good aligned, and are considered true werewolves. There's no mention of them having a connection with Selûne in their own lore, but since Selûne has dominion over all lycanthropes (even in 3e) I think it's safe to say that a Lythari worshipping Selûne isn't a stretch at all.

Something I've seen some people mention is: Since her father is a werewolf, shouldn't Shadowheart have inherited the curse? Inherited Lycanthropy can only be cured by a Wish spell, so it's unlikely she ever was one (though I love the idea of her being lycanthropic but not remembering). Lythari can only produce a lycanthropic child with another Lythari, or if they perform a mutually consented ritual to transform someone into one. So if Arnell is Lythari, it would make sense why Shadowheart did not inherit the curse.

D&D has brought back old mechanics from previous editions before, so if Arnell is Lythari... Does this mean we might possibly see them make a comeback in 5e?

[mosneakers]

Selene Lópes often spent her Summer days alone, exploring the woods of Moonwood Mill. Her father, like most working class adults in the area, worked long hours at the local Lumber Mill. Selene grew up with these stories and her dad's warnings: stick close to home, steer clear of the night, 'cause in those shadows, you'd find lycanthropic beasts, and not all of 'em were the friendly sort. But this only fueled her deep fascination for these illusive wolf-people.

One summer day, Selene ventured down a dirt road near her father's cabin in pursuit of something more exciting, something to satiate her craving for the unknown. Yet, to her dismay, she found herself at a dingy convenience store, where she reluctantly settled for a candy bar. Though it quelled the hunger in her stomach, it did little to satisfy her appetite for adventure. In her quest for adventure, Selene approached the clerk, inquiring about the rumors of the mysterious Greg. "I don't know nothing about nobody, kid. You best be heading home before night falls." Selene sighed and walked out the door, muttering, "Another boring day." Unaware of how wrong she was, for that day would change her life forever.

As Selene was leaving the store, she passed by a boy just arriving. He had a small town hair cut, and his appearance was unkempt. He seemed to be pretty close to Selene's age, if not a bit younger. As the strangers passed one another, their gazes were fixed on each other, as if they were placed there at that moment and time with the sole purpose of meeting.

"Hey you..." Said Selene. The boy stopped in his tracks, eager to help her with whatever she may need. "You from around here?" She asked. "Yes ma'am. Why do you ask?" He responded with a polite smile.

"...What can you tell me about Greg?"

[trulysummersprivate]

Entry no.2 Everyday is a School Day

I've seen some wild things over the years. Being mutant and attending a school for mutants does that for you. You see shapeshifters, telekinesis, people who can turn into beasts, people who can kill with one touch, people with claws in their skin, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw today.

The day started very normal, kids watching TV, eating breakfast, chatting when one of the kids, we'll call her Pink Roses, decides to prank her...boyfriend? They're a couple I think. Or really good friends. I need to do more research. Anyway she decides it's a good idea to prank him or rather his slime friend on his shoulder helps her prank him and suddenly he's turned into those blue cat things from that movie Avatar. It was uncanny! One of the kids, let's call her Purple Shell, screamed like a banshee alerting all of us to what had happened and I could not believe my eyes. This kid had just transformed into a big blue cat!

And according to what I've been told, that's not normal! This kid, we'll call him Blueberry? Seems fitting. Blueberry, has multiple kinds of mutation or mutates in his body. Like someone or something just shoved several different X Genes into his DNA and waited to see what happened. From what I've heard he hosts a symbiote, has lycanthropic tendencies and the same gamma radiation impulses as a certain green fella we all know. Three different abilities!

They teach you in school that finding solutions to unknown problems is like throwing spaghetti at a wall. Some of it might slide off and land in a mess on the ground but if it's got enough sauce on it and it's fresh enough, it might stick to the wall until you can clean it up. This feels like someone just catapulted spaghetti at a wall despite the mess, hurling it over and over again. It's fascinating.

Despite all my training and experience with mutants, you can still learn something new every day. The kid's fine by the way, he stayed a cat the rest of the day. It was kind of cute and his Dad reassured him he would be okay. At least I think that's his Dad? Or just a really kind Uncle? Again, I need to get some files on my desk so I can figure out who's who properly in this place. Maybe I'll have to request them. But the kid is okay. That's all for now.

Now I really want some spaghetti.

Tags: @rickb-chaos @purpleprincessonfyre @marvelsfavoriteuncle @therealdaydreamstark @ask-missparker @ask-starrk @askstevella @sci-fi-lexcon @luna-d-marsh @ethan-lensherr @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @jackiequick @gcthvile @cherrysft @blueboirick @meiramel @elzabeth-stark @missstrawbs2001

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Twilight

Written for @remadoramicrofics day 26: twilight. G, 720 words. Read below or on Ao3.

The Lupins arrived at the cinema with plenty of time to spare. Dora wandered to the posters to show Remus which one she’d selected.

“This is it,” she said, pointing up at a dark film poster, where two pale figures were in a sort of embrace. “The bloke looks constipated. It should be good.”

“Are you sure this is the one you want to see?” Remus stared apprehensively at the poster, whose tagline read “When you can live forever, what do you live for?”

“It’s all over the Muggle news. Besides, it’s either this or the talking animal one, and I told Teddy we’d see it together.”

Remus sighed and followed her into the cinema to purchase their tickets. It was his wife’s turn to choose their date night activity, and while he didn’t usually mind Muggle films, she had described this one as ‘a girl stuck in the middle of a vampire and werewolf war.’ After eleven years of marriage, he’d learned to take her summaries with a grain of salt. 

They indulged in fresh popcorn and Muggle sweets for their date. As they sat down to see the opening scenes of a deer hopping through the forest, Remus prepared himself for��Twilight.

Two Weeks Later

“Edward.”

“Jacob.”

“Vampire, Dora,” Remus insisted. “A vampire who shares our son’s name. Edward’s the right one for Bella.”

“Edward ran off and left her alone for a year!”

Remus half-closed his eyes and blinked tiredly at his wife. 

“Oh, right,” said Tonks. “But you and I were different. Jacob’s furry and cute. Edward’s just a shiny rock!”

“According to the books—” Remus lifted a newly purchased and fully read copy of Breaking Dawn. “Edward is who she belongs with. If you don’t like that ending, imagine your own!”

“Well, maybe I will!” Tonks scrunched her face up, her hair turning flaming red, and stomped out of the kitchen, her hips swaying attractively with her rage. 

Remus covered his mouth with his hand and hid his laugh. It never failed to make him smile, seeing Tonks riled up over anything lycanthropic. He too preferred the film werewolf to his vampire counterpart, but witnessing Dora work herself up over the issue was entertaining.

Teddy poked his turquoise head into the kitchen. “Dad, why does mum have her wand in a knot? Did someone write something bad about werewolves again?” 

Remus chuckled at him. “Your mother didn’t like the ending of a book we read.”

“Did you do that thing where you change the ending on purpose?” 

“No, actually, I . . . pretended to disagree with her.”

Teddy smirked knowingly. “Can I play?”

Remus knew he oughtn’t encourage his ten year old son in deceit, but it would be funny to see Nymphadora try to argue with him.

“Tell her you think vampires are better than werewolves,” Remus whispered. 

Teddy grinned and dashed off, knocking over a pile of parchment in his hurry, and tapped his mother on the shoulder. Remus stood in the back, waiting.

“Mum, mum, mum—”

“Teddy, what?”

“Do you think dad would be cooler if he was a vampire instead of a werewolf?” 

Tonks shook her head slightly in disbelief. 

“Blood would be so easy to get. Muggle hospitals have loads of it! We’d just have to get in and take some—”

“REMUS!”

Dora got out of her chair and marched up to him, her nose adorably scrunching up in righteous anger. Teddy picked up the parchment she was working on and began to read aloud.

“And after the Volturi were defeated,” he read, “Bella dropped Nessie off with her mother and ran off with Jacob, the real hero.” 

Remus brought his fist to his mouth and tried not to laugh at Dora’s attempt to rewrite the story.

“Is this a joke to—” Her face scrunched up again. She put her hands on her hips and huffed angrily. “This is a joke! You—you—”

“I love you,” said Remus, bending down to kiss her cheek, “and I couldn’t help myself.” He continued pressing kisses to her face until Dora’s hands fell from her hips and her hair softened from its fiery red to a pastel pink. 

“Eww!”

Teddy stuck his tongue out at them and stormed upstairs. Chuckling to himself, Remus returned his full attention to his wife’s lips with a satisfied grin. 

[kraang5]

Uhhhhhhhhh.

Ok, so I headcannon? Cannon? my OC Luna meets a werewolf by hopping worlds.

The werewolf has blue eyes, is white, (Both skin color and fur.) and is a werewolf like Luna, not a lycanthrope. (He does not have wings and his wolf form size is about the size of a Mongolian wolf.)

His name is Ray.

I also have it that they have three kids.

A set of boy-girl twins, Evan and Evelyn, and a little boy named Kody.

Evan's fur color is black like his mom's but he has blue eyes like his dad's.

Evelyn's fur color is white like her dad's but her eye color is gold like her mom's.

Koda has vitiligo. (Both his skin and his fur.) His fur is mostly black but has white patches all over. (I headcannon that a werewolf's fur is all one color. With the exception of the tips of their ears and tails sometimes being a few shades different.) He also has heterochromia, his right eye is blue and his left eye is gold.

The kids are unimportant for this, I just want to talk about them. I doubt they would come into existence in this apocalyptic world.

But I feel as if Ray would come to this world to be by Luna’s side.

Except... after x amount of years, he gets krangified, and Luna has to put him down.

She becomes depressed for a bit, but then again, she did have to kill the one she loved because he got krangified.

Did I just throw angst at your face?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Am I sorry for doing that?

No. No, I am not. :>

- @animal-lover-forever

I-what…YOU CANT JUST DO THAT TO ME-

NO. I WONT STAND FOR IT. :shoots revival gun: ^_^

[rayar32]

Hah wouldn't it be funny if I ended up making Symphogear OCs. Wouldn't it be funny?

(lore dump below)

Okay so Luiza and Helena are (bear with me) half-brazillian half-greek lycanthrope Attuned that, with the help of their cringefail dad Kallas, roam around Europe in a barely working RV in search of a cure (in Helena's case) or source of control (in Luiza's case) for their lycanthropic curse, running into a number of very wacky and deadly hijinks involving alchemists and cryptids because canonically Europe is Symphogear's equivalent of a Mad Max continent apparently.

(Also they're kinda running away from SONG too once they discover there's two 17 year olds with two undiscovered relics mucking about in the deadliest place in the world which is very irresponsible but Kallas loves his daughters too much and hates the government just enough as to not hand them over at first)

Kallas is a good dad that tries way too hard to look cool and is also extremely gullible, to the point where he gets most of knowledge from bootleg occult books, which, to his credit are sorta right but also have so much misinformation. Case in point he knows the basics of alchemy but it sorta explodes on his face any time he tries putting it into practice, which is the trend for most things he tries to do.

Luiza is an anime nerd (much to her sister's chagrin) and so she constantly tries to get Helena to make Gurren Lagann references. Half of their battle talk involves Luiza saying something incredibly cringe and Helena holding herself back from slapping her, and vice versa since Helena is a certified theater kid and diet goth.

As for fighting styles, Luiza is completely based around countering opponents with her Rebound Technique and offensive open palm strikes while Helena employs traditional fencing techniques and feints with her half cape. Helena has no idea that her Rati is a Philosophical Armament, but nonetheless ends up making use of its property but visualizing strong foes as "mountains to be overcome". Luiza on the other hand embraces her Angrvadall's special berserk state (which she named "wolfing out") and often makes use of it when push comes to shove. Thankfully, Helena and Kallas can snap her out of it easily enough by singing a certain lullaby to her.

Okay that's enough OC brainrot for now I need to draw more funnies!

[sarahfeliciam]

The Ultimatum Ch 27

Chapter 27

When Emeline and Sirius arrived in the empty street, all was quiet except the pounding of her heart. Sirius hurriedly waved his hand and the walls started separating, opening a new small entryway between them. 

12 Grimmauld Place

“Is this-“ Emeline breathed quietly before Sirius cut her off.

“-my family’s home? Yes.” He glanced around quickly, motioning her to follow him. “Let’s get inside, shall we?”

Emeline followed him and stepped inside to the largest home she’d ever seen. She was speechless looking at all of the vintage interior and decor. The stairs were massive and there were so many rooms. In front of her, the hallway led to a large dining space. She looked up at Sirius and smiled. 

“It’s beautiful.”

He offered a smile back, though it was forced. 

“I wish the memories were as such.” He responded. With a wave of his wand, the dust evaporated and the home looked more alive. 

“There should be a house elf around here somewhere. I’ll go in search for some dinner, you choose a room.”

Emeline nodded and slowly began to explore Grimmauld Place. 

•

When they were situated a bit better and Kreacher had put dinner on, Sirius sat at the table with Emeline. It was fit for dozens of visitors in here, but it felt far less inviting than her dad’s cottage despite its beauty. She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, from the beginning.” He offered gently, spooning up a bit of stew. 

She moved her own spoon around in the bowl, focusing on separating the meat from vegetables and took in a shaky breath, divulging everything Severus had told them.

Sirius’ mouth hung slightly open at this information, trying to grapple with what this meant. 

Though it wasn’t fair, he understood Remus entirely now. 

It all stemmed from gut-wrenching, crippling fear. 

And he was not getting anger from Emeline, but hurt. 

Deep hurt. 

“So I left.” She finished, still having not taken a bite of stew. 

“Fair enough.” He replied, watching her closely. She looked back with an eye roll.

“You’re on his side.”

“I’m on nobody’s side.”

“But?”

“But,” he began gently. “I understand.” 

She scoffed. “He has no excuse for treating me that way. I’m not just a stranger, I’m his daughter!” 

“I know that, Emeline. The moon has… a variety of ill effects. The timing was terrible.”

“So you think being a werewolf is a disadvantage as badly as dad does?”

He shook his head side to side. “I feel disloyal to say no, but I feel wrong to say yes. I’ve always encouraged your father away from the despair surrounding his … furry little problem,” Sirius smirked. “But he’s heavily affected by it. It would be doing him wrong to discredit those emotions.”

“He can’t choose for me.” She replied, not wanting to deep dive into her usual concern and support of her father. 

He knew it. 

Sirius knew it. 

She wasn’t in the business of defending herself right now. She just wanted to be understood personally. 

“No, he can’t. But taking his concern into consideration is a kindness I’m sure you can afford for him.”

“He was… different, Sirius. I can’t explain it.”

He nodded.

“Emeline, a boy just died. A new war is mounting when the first one stole nearly everything your father held most dear. The full moon is days away and he’s on edge. The cherry on top is the simple fact that you are the single most precious person to protect in his life. You’re fifteen, Emeline! Remus has felt cursed since he was bitten and would never wish it on anyone; you will never have him see lycanthrope as anything but a plague. And if you aren’t infected, you could die the moment he does. There’s a little slack to be cut here, I think. And that’s not choosing sides. That’s playing fair.”

“Sirius, I -“ 

“-I would never discredit you, either. I know how much those words hurt. I’m not asking you to forget that pain, he needs to slow his tongue during the moon. But know this: it still came from a place of love. A place where that love is driving him to a maddening fear. I’m sure you can understand, Emeline. There’s no way out. In his eyes, he has damned you. It is most parents’ worst fear.” Sirius looked away with sorrow flooding his eyes and Emeline nodded slowly, beginning to feel guilty for leaving the way she had.

But she had never seen her father like that. 

Even during transformation he seemed more composed, if she could venture that far. Normally level-headed and kind, he felt completely cold. 

That’s when she heard it again.

The crying.

She looked at Sirius who was none the wiser, back to focusing on his supper. This was a connection thing; her father was distraught and worried.

She focused as hard as she could.

I’m okay. 

She wasn’t sure it worked when awhile past where she felt nothing. 

Finally, an air of concern and slight bitterness washed over her.

Where are you?

With Padfoot.

Silence again. It wasn’t until she was finished supper, bidding Sirius goodnight, and heading up the stairs that she felt it:

Lonely. 

She threw herself on the first 4 poster bed she saw in a room to her left and sobbed. 

Sirius’ heart broke at the sadness that flooded his bestfriend and niece. He knew Remus could be harsh without meaning to when the moon was nearing, and all of this was a perfect storm. He wanted to help, but he also knew the value of time to mull over your own thoughts - something he believed they both desperately needed. 

With that thought, he took the room across the hall and shut the door. 

•

Emeline’s dreams that night made sure she was restless and plagued. 

She was walking down a dark corridor, illuminated only by her wand. Her footsteps are the only noise she heard until a low growl came behind her ear. Spinning on her heel, she came face to face with Greyback.

Towering above her, ready to lunge, she surrendered to his attempt before her father threw himself in front of her. 

If this mauling was not nightmare-ish enough, the wounds her father received quickly tore into Emeline with no physical touch. Gasping for air, she fell beside him, blood pooling around her and Greyback looming overhead.

•

She awoke with a piercing scream, hot tears pouring down her cheeks and her body trembling. She looked frantically around the room before the bright light of a wand forced her to squint and hold up a hand to her face. Sirius bounded in the room to flip the lights on and she blinked rapidly, unable to focus with such brightness surrounding her.

“Darling, we’re right here.”

“Dad? I didn’t ask for anyone, I’m fine.” She mumbled, pulling her blankets up higher around her. 

“Emeline,” Sirius warned gently. “Come on.”

The same guilt she felt bit at her throat again and she nodded sleepily.

“It was just a bad dream.”

“Three guesses as to what.” Remus said quietly, reaching out to move the hair from her face. 

She turned from him.

He hid his hurt with the belief that he probably deserved that and straightened up.

“I have a Dreamless Draught if you’d like it.” He offered, still softly; almost as if it was his peace treaty.

She nodded silently, still not facing him.

“Sirius,” he spoke quickly. “Perhaps you’ll bring it to her. And maybe we can discuss this all further in the morning.”

She could tell he wanted to be close to her, but her pride was too strong for that right now. He had hurt her, and hurt badly. This bonded by now, she would never have expected his explosion. 

“No problem, Remus. I have a drink you may be interested in, too.”

•

Once Emeline had taken the draught and was asleep, Sirius and Remus headed downstairs to the sitting room, Sirius holding a bottle of Fireball. He conjured two glasses and filled them, handing one off to his mate.

“Lay it on me.” He said, as he sat in a large recliner and Remus took the leather couch. “I’ve heard it all from her; I’m interested in hearing it from you.” 

Remus ran his hand over his face and into his hair before taking a large swig of the burning liquid.

“Sirius, I was awful.” He crossed one leg over the other and sunk back into the couch, taking another drink. “I didn’t feel like me, I -“

“-the joys of the moon.” Sirius nodded. “She understands that.”

“She does?” He asked quietly, hard pressed to contain the hope in his voice. 

“Yes, but I overheard you two in there; I can’t sort out what the bloody hell is wrong with either one of you.” 

“I can’t either.” Remus groaned. “Between the moon, the mirror-ing, her being a teenager…I’m lost in the midst of all of this. He’s back, Sirius. She’s in real danger and I don’t know how to protect her. My one job.”

“Moony,” Sirius leaned forward. “That’s all fine and well. But this choice does need to be hers and hers alone, you understand that, right?”

Remus contemplated this, afraid to agree, though knowing he must. “I do, but I have the choice to be unable to infect my child, Sirius.” He said desperately.

“Think about this, Remus. You’d rather her find someone else to do it? A pack who may very well want her dead to begin with, considering that your integrating so strongly into the Wizarding World instead of remaining with them in the pack, is taboo? Most packs are almost a cult, you know this. And Remus Lupin’s daughter is going to walk into one asking to be bitten? This is insanity!” 

“The whole thing is insanity!” Remus agreed, his eyes wide, forcing his point. He drank down the rest of his Fireball and refilled it to the top. “I physically could never bring myself to do it. But ofcourse the thought of another wolf makes me absolutely ill. Then, there’s the fact that if we don’t, she will die if I do. If things unfold like before and I don’t-“

“-Moony.”

“If I don’t make it, Padfoot, Emeline will lose her life. She’s fifteen for Merlin’s sake! She’s gifted and kind and borderline in love. She wants to be a healer, you know.” He finished sadly. 

Sirius stood and moved to sit next to his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Remus,” he whispered. “You are both strong enough to carry this burden together. There is a right answer and it will give you both peace one day. Let the answer be hers. And do what you need to do as her father. Despite your disdain for this affliction, she will always be safest with you. No matter the terms it is on.” He stood with a pat to Remus’ knee and his friend offered him a weak smile.

“Thank you.” He said quietly as Sirius walked to the door.

“And Remus?”

“Hmm?” He asked, finishing his second drink.

“Moony is not a monster. Nor are you.”

•

When morning came, Emeline awoke with a groan. Her bones ached and her stomach was on fire. She felt nauseous and weak, her head swimming. 

Dad

It was a subconscious call as she clutched her stomach, keeping her eyes closed.

The door creaked just moments later and she heard her father suck in a painful breath after stumbling over the coat rack near the door.

“Pup?”

“I feel awful.” She whined, holding her blankets close, eyes still tightly shut.

Remus chuckled and sat on the bottom of the bed, squeezing her ankle underneath the covers.

“Me too.” He responded. “I’m sorry; one too many Fireball were my equivalent to the draught. You should recover quicker than I.”

She didn’t respond.

“Well,” he pat her leg, understanding that the call was involuntary. “If you need me I’ll be downstai-��

“- No, stay.” She caved, opening her eyes slowly, the light burning them. “You said we should talk.”

“It can wait.”

“It can’t.” She shook her head.

“Alright,” he started slowly. “We can. Emeline, I am -“

“-so sorry.”

“So sorry.” They both spoke at the same time. 

She pushed herself up slowly in bed and looked at him with heavy eyes, the draught still in effect to some degree.

“I had a dream that Greyback killed you. And me. I’m afraid of what’s coming. To me, Lycanthrope would bring protection. I understand that is not and never will be how you feel.” 

Remus was taken aback. 

He had never looked at being a werewolf as anything less than the curse of a lifetime. He supposed he could see, to some degree, why she’d come to the assumption she had and he could not blame her.

“I don’t know what it’s like for you,” she added sadly. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to help you. I was only thinking of myself yesterday and I should have been more sensitive. I don’t view this as your fault.” 

“Oh, pup.” He pulled her into his arms and to his surprise, she responded immediately. “I love you. My only desire is to protect you. I should have never said such awful things. There are better ways to help you understand this so that,” he hesitated and she pulled away to look up at him. “So that you can make the choice that’s right for you.” He finished. 

Emeline knew it was the most difficult thing he’d ever said and that he hardly believed it.

“I love you, dad. Thank you.”

He nodded and breathed in slow, struggling to find his next words.

“So, a healer? Really?”

“Oh, yeah.” She nodded, her head falling. “I probably wouldn’t be any good. I don’t think my marks will even get me in.”

“You’d be wonderful.” He whispered. “I don’t want that taken from you.”

“I know.” She said sadly. “I guess I never realized how hard it’s been for you. I had a glimpse with Calliope; I still didn’t think it would uproot my entire life.”

“I’m sorry about Calliope, too. So much of your heartache is from me and it kills me, Emeline. I never want to hurt you, not on purpose. That’s why this is so hard for me to grapple with.” His eyes looked completely lost. 

She felt horrible. 

“Maybe we should take our time thinking this over?” She suggested. “Professor Snape will be here next week. It doesn’t have to be right now.”

He knew she meant this moon. 

The thought alone sent a shiver down his spine. 

“I think that’s a good idea.” He agreed, looking down at the floor. “I will try to control my temper better as the moon approaches. You didn’t deserve that. The Wolfsbane affords me a much more docile demeanor.”

“I assume you’ve taken it then.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm spill from her mouth.

“I deserve that.” He nodded. “It’s hard when I don’t know where I end and wolf begins.”

“You’re just you, dad. Stop second guessing it.” 

He gave her a small smile and reached in his cloak, pulling out the book she’d left last night, gingerly. He set it on the bed and slid it over to her. 

“I came here last night after looking through these. They’re precious.” His face was struggling between downcast and grateful. He was exhausted but full of the usual love she was used to.

 She felt warm. 

“Thank you for sharing them with me.”

Emeline nodded softly, picking up the book.

“Did you see the one where she was holding me an-“

“-and the mug? Yes.” He smiled. 

“She always wrote those little messages on the side of the photos: the date, what we were doing in them. She always said it was in case I was showing someone someday and couldn’t remember all the details.” Emotion overtook her and she sniffled. “She knew I’d be showing you.”

“I’m sure she hoped.” He said quietly, grabbing Emeline’s hand as she set the book down. “I remembered last night what I promised you: that I would never miss more of these moments.” She nodded as he stared at her, still holding his hand. “That doesn’t just mean good. It’s every moment, even these hard ones. I’m sorry I let you down last night.” 

She shook her head and started to speak but he interrupted her.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know how you felt, pup. I’ll never retreat like that again.”

“Just talk to me, like we have been.” She pleaded. “If anything is wrong or if there’s a decision to be made, just be open with me. We’ve only got eachother; it hurts to be ignored and pushed off.”

“Ofcourse.” He kissed the back of her hand softly before letting go. “Do you know what my favorite photo was?”

She shook her head and handed him the book back. 

He flipped it open quickly; she noticed he had dog-eared the page which was nearly a sin in his book, and she smiled.

He held it up in front of her with the happiness across his face that she was used to and loved seeing, especially a day before the moon.

Staring back at her was a three-year old Emeline, chubby cheeked with the worst fringe she’d ever seen. She had dark curls flecked with a mix of brown and ash and her eyes were shining (on a sugar high, no doubt). 

She was grinning with her birthday cake; Chocolate frosting covered her face; her gift was clutched in her hands: a small stuffed wolf.