#bonded by blood and magic

[selenekallanwriter]

Writeblr Introduction and links.

Hello! My name is Selene. I’m a dyslexic fantasy author who loves symphonic metal, and has been vividly hallucinating about possibly imaginary people since age 8. I write stories about overpowered, morally gray, mostly queer loons who curse like sailors. My heroes are NOT ‘alpha’ males, and my heroines are badasses. If you want to interact with me somewhere else, check out my Facebook Page, where I post book excerpts and funny memes. If you subscribe to my NEWSLETTER, I promise to only bug you once in a blue moon. I'm also on Instagram and TikTok.

These are my current series/books:

THE CURSED AND THE FALLEN

Completed-ish series. The main arc is closed and there are no cliffhangers at the end of book three, but there are more stories to tell. Multiple POV, first-person present, and close third-person present.

DEMON WARDEN, book 1: 

Demons are a girl's best friend... or worst nightmare. Some try to steal your soul, and others drive you nuts with their aloof, acerbic ways. I would know, I have a demon warden. My name is Dinah, and I am a weirdo of supernatural proportions. This is the story of how I almost lost my soul and was saved by a sexy—ahem, infuriating demon prince.

Tropes:

Content Warnings:

Tap HERE for the Universal Link 

And HERE for Amazon US

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BONDED BY BLOOD AND MAGIC

Series in progress. Two books published. Multiple POV, first person past, third person past.

HUNTRESS PREY, book 1: 

Valentine, huntress vampire by night and cat-mama accountant by day, clashes with Axel—a beautiful fae warrior with a penchant for staking vampires. 

The ancient enmity between their species compels them to destroy each other. But against all odds, they develop a burning connection.

Will their forbidden attraction survive the battle against their foes and inner demons?

Tropes:

Content Warnings:

Tap HERE for the Universal Link

And HERE for Amazon US

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THE HALFBLOOD REBELS

Yes, I turned halfblood into a single word because it looks prettier hehe. 

Ongoing series. Multiple/dual POV: first person past in book one, and close third person past in book 2. A lot of dark themes, and firmly anti “alpha”.

HALFBLOOD BETRAYED, book 1: 

Can a wounded, amnesiac half-werewolf trust a powerful vampire, or will he betray her?

Werewolf-fey hybrid Aylana loses her memory after a near-fatal attack. Her savior? Sebastian. A mysterious vampire with hypnotic eyes and unending sarcasm. Aylana suspects Sebastian is hiding something from her. But if she wants to stay alive, she has no other option than to trust him.

Sebastian knows that the flames of his previous enmity with Aylana will become an inferno when the feisty halfblood regains her memory. She'll probably try to kill him again. But he'll take his chances.

When their tumultuous past returns to haunt them, will they become sworn enemies again, or something else?

Tropes:

Content Warnings:

Tap HERE for the Universal Link

And HERE for Amazon US

**

HALFBLOOD DECEIVED, book 2

Vampires are demons, and gargoyles must destroy them all. Or so Aella believed. Until she saw a gargoyle slaying an innocent vampire. Wounded, she seeks help in the most dangerous place for a gargoyle—a vampire clan led by Zeydan, a vampire royal. Zeydan is reluctant to trust Aella, but his supernatural instincts drive him to protect her. Will these fated enemies give in to their forbidden draw?

Tropes:

Content Warnings:

Tap HERE for AMAZON US.

Tap HERE for Universal Link.

______________________________

MOORED TO YOU.

Standalone. Multiple POVs. First-person present, close third-person present. Slow burn but eventually VERY high heat. My most explicit sex scenes so far, actually. SO MANY content warnings.

Synopsis: 

Be careful whose coat you pick up...

When Niahm, the beautiful stranger who saved her from danger, drops his cloak to the floor, Leo battles her anxiety and picks it up for him.

She doesn’t know Niahm’s cloak is actually his Selkie skin, and that her act of kindness is a marriage proposal of sorts.

Niahm doesn’t hesitate to pop the question, turning Leo’s world upside down. She is not ready for commitment. Her broken heart can't take another blow. Still, Leo can't deny her connection to Niahm is magical. Literally.

Will Leo be able to let go of her past and give into Niahm's charm? Or is their future star-crossed?

Fire and ice sizzle to steam...

Morgan is Leo's best friend/fierce protector. And she will make damn sure Niahm doesn't hurt Leo. This makes her collide with Gwyn, Niahm's sister—a beautiful, icy female who infuriates her. After an epic row, Morgan and Gwyn settle on a truce that becomes much more. They burn and melt each other's barriers with every fiery kiss. But when Morgan's darkest secret is revealed, will her relationship with Gwyn survive or sink?

Tropes:

Content Warnings: 

Tap HERE for the Universal Link

And HERE for Amazon US

More books will be added in the future!

[cubbihue]

What would Peri’s power level be if he didn’t have his inhibitor/stabilizer wand and just went apeshit?

While Cosmo deals with too much magic in his body, Peri suffers from a slightly different issue. Cosmo has the greatest amount of magic in Fairy World. Peri is incapable of regulating his magic.

Peri cannot, not then as a child and not now in the present, control his magic. Without his inhibitor, he can easily destroy an entire realm- just as he nearly destroyed Earth as a baby. This fact has not changed, although it is less plausible today than back then.

Peri's taken extra measures in the present-day to ensure it cannot happen.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

Instability: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[almostaknight]

top 3 moment this episode was this guy seeing jason lannister pull up with impractical, purely decorative lions and then look straight into the camera like he’s on the office

[loquaciousquark]

when will eppie hawke and fenris meet tavish and astarion? (:

"And anyway, it won't be that bad. One last little Fade rift. We'll barricade it up as best we can, send a message to Skyhold, go home, and—"

One of the craggy footholds crumbles away beneath Hawke's foot, and it's only Fenris's quick hand that saves her from a plummet back down the side of the barren mountain. "Hawke, please."

"Please yourself. I said you didn't have to come."

Fenris throws her a longsuffering look, the flickering green lightning of the rift casting weird shadows over his eyes, but he doesn't let go of her arm until she's got both feet on solid ground again. "Just seal it and let this be done."

"My heart's only desire, lover," Hawke says, smiling, just as another pair of voices rises from the other side of the rift.

"Careful—careful! It shocks like the entire Hells are in there. Where's Gale?"

"Wherever Karlach dropped him, I suppose, with that little sprained ankle of his. No, I see them, they're almost here. Come away, darling. No need to get so dramatically close."

"This, from you?" says the woman, just as she and her fellow voice round the far edge of the rift. "Oh!"

"Well!" Hawke says almost at the same moment. Two of them after all: a short, slim woman with auburn hair pulled back in a low tail, and a tall, lithe man with hair as white as Fenris's and eyes that gleam like rubies. The man has a dagger drawn already, a thin smile playing over his face; the woman's fingers rest on her sheathed rapier, but her gaze is open, friendly. Hawke plants her staff on the rocky ground in as welcoming a gesture as she can manage. "Fancy running into someone like you up here of all places."

"I could say the same," the woman says. The green rift, still hanging between them and stretching a good twenty feet into the sky, gives an ominous rumble. "Our wizard's been fretting about magical disturbances along the city's borders for weeks. He finally traces the source to this location, and here you are at the heart of it. I'd like to believe it's coincidence."

"Alas," Hawke says, "one of my greatest faults is a terrible habit of being around when things begin. Fenris can attest to that better than most." She lays a hand on Fenris's shoulder, but he's stiff as iron, eyes glued to the man's dagger, and he's reached back for the hilt of his greatsword. "I'm Hawke, by the way."

"Call me Tav."

"And I'm Astarion," the man says grandly, accompanied by a wholly unnecessary flourish of his dagger. "We're here to steal the world."

"Save it," Tav says sharply.

"Of course, my dear. Save the world. What did I say?"

Fenris makes a short, disgusted noise, but Hawke's pleased to see he's let go of his own sword. She doesn't think this Astarion is going to kill them—not easily, anyway—and she likes the look of Tav despite herself. Both of them quick on their feet, she thinks, both moving gracefully with an innate, self-assured balance. As Tav steps around the rift Astarion moves with her like water, without even needing to see where she's gone. It reminds her a great deal of Fenris and herself, actually, though Hawke would give an arm to trust her own feet that much.

Fenris, it seems, has come to similar conclusions, and he rolls his shoulders as he releases their tension. Even his voice has lost its nascent fury, which for Fenris is practically friendly in situations like this. "The rift is dangerous. We will guard it until the Inquisitor can seal it permanently. Be on your way."

"Inquisitor?" drawls Astarion with that same, thin-lipped smile. "Sounds like someone from dear Shadowheart's former enclave, don't you think?"

"I don't think they're Sharran," Tav says. "Are you?"

"What a speculative look you've put on," Hawke says, delighted. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Unless you'd like me to be Sharran, in which case, I most certainly am and in fact have always been."

Both Fenris and Astarion roll their eyes—hilarious in its own right, but heightened by the clear antipathy still remaining between them. Fenris sighs. "Hawke—"

The rift explodes.

Green lightning shatters over the rocky cliff. The rumble bursts into a deafening roar; the faint breeze that had been dancing around them sweeps up into a hurricane. The air cracks and snaps with a sudden smell of ozone.

Hawke throws her hand over her eyes. She can't see—the wind tears her hair from its bindings and she can't see past the brilliant flashes of blazing green and she can't hear— "Fenris!"

Someone's fingers wrap around hers. She wrenches up her staff, calls for fire—for ice—for anything—but the rift has become a maelstrom and every scrap of magic sucks into the raging whirl before she can shape it. Her boots skid on the stone as she tries to brace against the inexorable pull, pebbles and rocks rattling along every step. She can't—the hand wrapped around hers has seized tight as a vise, but she's slipping anyway, and Maker, she can't—

A man's echoing voice, stripped bare of all artifice, wild with fear: "Tav!"

The wind dies. Not slowly, not gradually; it falls off like someone's upturned a glass over the rocky cliff, and Hawke's ears roar in the sudden silence. The wind is gone, and the rift is gone with it as if it had never been, the thunderous clouds that had been swirling above it already dissipating to glimpses of blue morning sky.

"Andraste preserve me," Hawke says, loud in the quiet, and she looks over to see Tav still crouched against the face of the mountain. One of Tav's hands clutches a dagger she'd wedged deep into a stony crevice; the other is still wrapped tight around Hawke's wrist where she'd pulled her away from the tempest.

No sign of Fenris. No sign of the other one—Astarion. A long white scrape in the stone marks where Fenris's sword had sought and failed to find purchase, disappearing at the precise place where the rift had torn itself open.

Gone. Gone, gone. Her heart hammers in her throat, and she indulges in thirty seconds of agonizing grief before she sets it aside, turns, and pulls Tav to her feet.

"Well," Hawke says at last. "Looks like it's just you and me, then. Ready for an adventure?"

"Yes," Tav says, her grip on Hawke's hand like steel, and her eyes blaze. "You and me. Let's get them back."

—

Everything hurts. Everything godsdamned hurts, and Astarion lets out a pained groan as he rolls to his back and drops his arm over his face. His ears ring like bells, and something twinges painfully in his left hip, and the inconvenient sun has decided to blaze right in his face and gods damn it, he'd known they ought to wait for Gale. Wretched wizard and his weak ankles. Wretched Tav and her complete inability—

"Tav," Astarion says, and sits bolt upright.

No Tav. Not even the dark-haired sorcerer with the wide smile. Just that taciturn warrior in leather and half-plate seated on a rock a few feet away, watching Astarion get his bearings, his greatsword slung across his knees and a deeply sour look on his tattooed face. The skies above them are clear and blue as a song.

No Tav. No Hawke. No rift. No plan, and no company besides an irascible stranger with the same sudden look of dawning horror.

"Venhedis."

"Shit."

[dramioneasks]

Not With A Bang... - megalle - E, 50 chapters, Words: 191,303 - Draco Malfoy has just 9 months left on a 7 year house arrest sentence when the Ministry announces a new Marriage and Repopulation Act. Draco assumes it will not affect him as he is still under house arrest. He assumes wrongly. No matter, the Ministry, in their infinite wisdom, has paired him with one Hermione Granger. The witch has never met an injustice she hasn't fought against and so Draco assumes she'll fight this one to the death before tying herself to him. Again, he assumes wrongly. So now he has a wife who more resembles a ghost haunting his manor than the girl he once knew, a meddling elf, a rapidly approaching release date and no idea what life outside the Manor walls looks like or for the first time in his life, someone trying to tell him what to do with it. Authors Note: The fic was almost called "Hermione Granger Doesn't Give a F-"

[apicelladonna]

1899, Godric's Hollow

Gellert: *Shows his great-aunt Bathilda the blood troth he is going to propose with to Albus*

Bathilda: What a pretty token for your proposal, dear! When did you buy it?

Gellert, mumbling: ... A week after we started dating.

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

To @thefantasmarex and other Cap adopts Kon AU enjoyers

I just thought something, Captain Marvel isn’t an inherited title. In the OG comics and still in a lot of later ones it’s specifically a chosen one thing, we know that with Billy, but his entire family is honorary members and titles passed between close friends and family specifically to share the power. Not pass it on.

Billy has 3 potential candidates for succession depending on canons; The original being BillBat from the 30th century, Power of Shazam’s CeCe Beck from the 90th century, and Tanist of the 853rd century in the DC 1,000,000 comics.

(Pictures and more below the cut)

Only one is actually related to Billy, and that’s BillBat of earth, his distant descendant. CeCe is from Bindermann and Tanist is from Mercury, both having stumbled into the RoE some how and have no prior relation.

No one in the current Marvel family as they know it is supposed to usurp Billy or replace him, he’s supposed to take the Wizards mantle fully later on in life and wait until his successor is old enough to inherit his power. Billy has to live to see that day, weather it’s 1,000 or 7,000 or 83,000 years into the future, he has to make it to pass the torch to the next being Pure of Heart and Strong of Spirit.

There is no replacing Marvel in the modern day, no keeping his name alive till the next guy needed, Conner has no expected inheritance or standards if he’s taken in as a member of the Marvel family. He can be whatever he wants as long as he’s a good person, he could wear his symbol and call himself Junior or another Lieutenant Marvel but he doesn’t have to.

There has to be a Superman once Clark’s gone, he’s too much of a symbol to fade, he means too much. But in a way Marvel doesn’t, and it’s not something bad or sad in context.

Being Captain Marvel is always shown as a thankless and isolating job, but one that has to be done to keep ancient evils at bay and the balance of Magic in order. That’s why Billy takes the job as Wizard only when Shazam dies, magic needs a warden but he doesn’t want that job right away, when he takes it he chooses Freddy as a champion to be Captain Marvel but they aren’t Shazam, he is. That’s what separates the Wizards champion, which is what Billy is, from the gods champions that his family is.

Conner has no expectation in his family, not because he isn’t good enough or because of a flaw in his upbringing, but because of a highly selective criteria for a job no one really wants.

[potatoesandsunshine]

no one has ever hated anyone like taryn hates mystra. know that.

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

is it wrong that i live for genetic based magic

maybe???? but i can’t care 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

i can’tttttt care cause it’s so devious

like… what does it mean for our magical POV characters who are so new to this shit? what does it mean for future societal development? and what did it mean for past societal development?

[afraidofchange]

No but the way that Miranda and Neve are so similar (in slightly different ways), it kills me.

While their backgrounds are quite different, I think the fact that both hold people at such a distance because they don't want to lose them (e.g., Miri keeps Oriana at a distance until encouraged to meet her because she didn't want to somehow ruin Ori's life by being a part of it, but watched over from a distance to protect her; or! how Miranda wrestles with her feelings for Shepard because the time they meet, they have so much at stake and "what idiotic bunch of hormones decided now is the time for love?" as if she doesn't deserve to feel love and to be loved).

And also, Miranda was created by her father to serve his egomaniacal mind, and she's been made genetically perfect, but constantly holds herself to that standard and can "only take credit for my mistakes" rather than her own skills because of her genetic predisposition (e.g. being a powerful biotic, etc). She's hardly had a normal life for her own sake, always putting the mission first, ahead of herself - which is why it's so pivotal for her to tell the Illusive Man she's resigning for him to go to hell; she's finally able to be her own person, but she has to learn to give herself some priority after everything. Like Neve, who focuses on her cases because she cares so deeply for others, Miranda has always put aside personal feelings for the mission or what she's most focused on.

Anyway I'm simply saying they should be friends and maybe go to group therapy.

[dramioneasks]

I wanted to recommend ‘Eagle Eyes’ to the community.

It’s a Hogwarts rewrite with fascinating magic with great characters, friendships and Ravenclaw dramione. Book 5 has just been completed (a satisfactory pause imo) and the writer intends to publish book 6 soon.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50697961/chapters/128070010

I wasn’t sure if this was the right way to suggest a fic. Do let me know if there is another system :)

Thanks!

Summary:

How one seed of doubt can change the course of history. Where Lucius Malfoy was imprisoned for his crimes in the first wizarding war and how this one seemingly unimportant change, alters Draco Malfoy's life, as well as the entire wizarding world. This is a rewrite of books 1-7 (and perhaps beyond). 5/7 - Order of the Phoenix complete! Half Blood Prince re-write due in the summer :)

PS: yes this way is perfect!

[tuxedo-rabbit]

Also,

Simon has focused so much on being palatable to everyone, that by the end of act 1 no one except Merrill had strong opinions of him either which way.

[gangueshade]

solas getting stuck in the fade is pretty funny ngl

[stolen-ass-name]

*Guy that has two (2) D&D related interests only voice* Haha Dungeon Meshi x Baldur's Gate 3 crossover when?

[clown-fession]

Something about Aaravos being freed having direct ties to a bloodmoon…