#from the vault: relics

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Mox Diamond

Artist: Volkan Baǵa TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[vinyls-and-valentines]

I am a very serious storyteller. I definitely did not call one of the largest and oldest cities in my story setting "tall sheep hill". My brain definitely doesn't go "hehe...tall sheep :]" every time I have to figure out something relating to it

[techno-poet]

I realized you can't find this song anywhere online in good quality, and I like it so much, so here's this :')

[shiny-jr]

I’ve just had a vision, what if a yan (e.g riddle or vil because they are most princess-ish) was a trapped in a castle away like in one of those stereotypical fairy tales and the reader decides to save them because they are a ‘damsel in distress’ and reader is like a hero… only to realise there is a reason why they were locked away (because they were batshit crazy)

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: You are a thief with freshly stolen goods. Chased and hunted down, you avoid capture by finding a castle hidden in gloom and fog. Locals told legends of this place, saying a royal had been trapped within. Of course, you don't quite believe such tall tales. That is, until you discover the royal and learned that they were purposefully sealed inside...

Note: I think I'll call this one, not your valiant savior. It's just a placeholder name for now. Just a quick post, so sorry if it's bad.

It was too easy. What did they expect when they left out a priceless object owned by the royal family and estimated to be worth a fortune? Of course a famed thief on the loose such as yourself, would just be itching to snatch the relic. And snatch you did, living up to your reputation of thief. Each member having unique abilities to assist in stealing. Your mother had speed to outrun anyone in a chase, your grandfather had the talent of picking any locks, your great-grandmother could sweet-talk anyone then rob them blind. And so on and so forth.

And of course, you had your own talent. As quiet as a mouse and with fingers that stuck to valuables like glue, stealing became like second nature. Literally. However, it wasn't exactly a talent valued by the wider community, and if you stole enough you could end up on terribly drawn wanted posters. Which is why staying in one place wasn't wise.

From place to place, you went taking and claiming anything of worth. When you got very low on cash, you set your sights high: on the vault that stored the royal's priceless treasures. There was bound to be endless riches stored within, if only you could get your grubby hands on them. Well, after careful planning, you had. It wasn't a giant gem or sack full of gold.

Time was short, so you had grabbed the closest thing you could before guards could find you. A golden box encrusted with jewels. Who knew what was inside? Maybe some family heirloom, a magical artifact, or something else of high value. And with the box, you bolted, and the chase had begun out of the city and through the woods.

As fast as you could, you ran through the mystic woods, a forrest travelers and locals alike were all wary of. It was the safest place you could go when chased by frightening palace guards on horseback that would do anything to take back what you stole and drag you back to the gallows. Even the woods heavy with fog and dark from the clouds overhead, had deterred your pursuers enough for you to slip out of their reach and deeper into the forrest where there was no way they would be able to track you. Here, you would have to wait until tomorrow and depart early. Then, you'd be home free and rich beyond your wildest dreams.

After what felt like hours of walking, you stumbled upon a bridge over a gloomy lake. In the middle, sat an old castle of gray stone and dark windows. A castle once said to hold a royal captive, but of course, you didn't believe such stories that were so old they were told to your own grandparents. This castle would be your sanctuary for the night. And maybe, just maybe, you'd clutch the jeweled box and dream of simpler times when you were told fairytales of locked away royals waiting for a savior.

The castle was exactly like those set in spooky tales, haunted by vengeful spirits and claimed by ghosts. It appeared abandoned, that much was obvious by the crumbling stone bridge and the battered old wooden doors that once protected the inhabitants.

Cautiously stepping over the splintered debris of the front door, you didn’t bother boarding it up since no one would be stupid enough to follow you inside.

There was wreckage and ruin everywhere. If you had to guess, whatever happened here, whether the people were driven away by conflict or time, it was followed by the destruction of time. Time with weather were likely all factors that led to the disarray of what was probably once a grand estate. Strangely enough, there was furniture and decor. Everything coated in dust and grime, but still here. Had people been too afraid to enter the grounds? There were so many valuables that could've been looted!

"I'll definitely have to come back here later." You scoff, turning over a few clothes or broken furniture with your foot to uncover possible hidden goodies. Maybe something as small but valuable as a ring was lost somewhere on the ground.

Proceeding to carry the golden box under your arm, you decide to search for the cleaniest, not-so-moldy room where you could spend the night. On the third floor halls, you see ripped curtains and frames where portraits loosely hung. Every rug was brown with dirt and dust.

There were items left behind, which showcased the life one led here. A piano too big to steal, the skeleton of a chandelier and broken gems hanging from its limbs, empty glass perfume bottles now filled with dust. The place must've been wondrous once, but now it was like a tomb. A setting frozen in time.

When you found moonlight filtering through the open balcony of what looked to be the master bedroom, you paused to see the space wrecked more than the others. As if more than just weather and time had affected this place. The owner of this castle likely slept in this very room, on that very bed where the sheets were ruffled and unkempt.

"I wonder who used to live here..." You murmur to no one in particular, as you approach the balcony looking over the bridge and woods. This would be a good vantage point.

A heavy fog settled over the woods, extending over the bridge like water. Good, an extra layer for cover. You stepped back into the room, analyzing every carved piece of wooden furniture, makeup and brushes stored on tabletops, a separate room as long as a hallway and filled with all types of articles of clothing.

If all this was still here, then was it possible some jewelry was left behind? You scoured the room, looking for hidden compartments while murmuring to yourself to fill the ominous silence. As you pulled back a curtain against a wall, you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw an uneven lump underneath the wallpaper.

Could this be handle leading to a vault of treasures? With that in mind, you ripped off the old wallpaper. A glimmer of gold made your heart soar with hope, but when you caught sight of your reflection, you stopped and stared. A mirror. It was a large mirror, oval shaped, with golden borders so intricately decorated. However, when a hand suddenly appeared on the other side of the mirror, like a ghostly apparition, you screamed and stumbled back.

A hand– there was a hand in the mirror! You stared with widened eyes full of shock, as the hand pressed its palm against the surface of the glass. You couldn't see anything else, no one behind the hand. After a second, the slim pale hand delicately pointed a long dainty finger at the box you were holding in a vice grip.

"What...? This? You want this? But..."

You had worked hard to procure this golden box from the royals. Pursing your lips, you contemplated your options, with so many questions running rampant in your mind. What was that thing? A magic mirror? A magic mirror would be priceless, much more valuable than any gold. However, if it was magic, it would be tricky. Possibly even sentient. So you'd have to gain its favor.

"Alright, alright, the box. You know, I went through hell trying to get this."

You informed the mirror, unsure if it even understood you. You carefully set down the heavy box in front of the mirror, and watch as the hand made a motion with its fingers.

Click!

It had unlocked the box, without even a key or tool. A grin broke out on your face. Had it done it for you? Apparently not, because the box opened on its own and a heavy thick tome floated out from it and into the air. The hand beckoned the tome closer, and closer it came, until it was literally phasing through the glass.

"Hey! Wait––"

The glass shattered, the sound booming and ringing out in the silence like an explosion. You only had a second to react, instinctually using your arms to shield your face from the glass flying out in every direction. When it stopped, you looked around. The mattress was shredded, the curtains torn to shreds, wooden furniture cut as if done by an axe, but miraculously you were somehow unharmed.

A breath, not of your own, caught your attention. Your eyes darted over to the now broken mirror, awestruck at the vision of a figure stepping over broken glass. They were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, more than any words could convey. Their hair like gold and eyes an alluring shade of purple like two amethyst stones, soft pink lips, and a tall slim pale figure clothed in odd robes. For a moment, whoever this person was, appeared disoriented for a brief moment, but they clutched the tome like a lifeline. The tome that came from the box you had stolen.

"Thank you––"

He breathed, his voice quiet as he attempted to stand tall and upright. When his legs nearly gave out beneath him, you were there to catch his hand and prevent him from falling as he looked at you with appreciation. You were just stunned, bewildered, in pure disbelief.

"You... You freed me. You returned my stolen tome...!"

He exclaimed in disbelief, as he restored his posture. Somehow, he was able to stand in heels, but heels were currently one of the least important details.

What did he mean freed?

There was no time to ask any questions. The loud sound of the shattering must've alerted any of your pursuers that had followed you thus far, because from the balcony you could make out the torchlights weaving their way directly towards the bridge.

The mysterious man from the mirror took notice of your expression of dismay as he glanced at the distant torchlights. Smoothing out his robes, he looked back at you and took in your expression. "Enemies of yours?"

"Yes..." You nod slowly.

"Now that just won't do. I can't have anyone harming, or even killing my savior. I've yet to even learn your name." Tapping some well-manicured fingers against the spine of the tome, he appeared to contemplate something. When he stopped tapping his fingers, he smiled so sweetly. "I am Vil Schoenheit, prince and prodigy. Here's my proposition to you, my savior: I will destroy your enemies for a small price. You must tell me your name, and I will grant you my protection."

Of course you gave him your name, and almost immediately you saw the fog below turn an odd color. The torchlights flickered out, you no longer heard their encouraged shouts to move forward but instead their screams echoing in the dark woods. All after Vil murmured a few words in a foreign tongue read from his tome, as he continued to gaze at your intently. What exactly was he to cause so much death in a single instant with hardly any effort...? And you were stuck in this abandoned castle with him.

The prince had no plans to abandon you, he's made that much clear when you attempted to casually part ways after thanking him for getting rid of your pursuers. Stay. I can make it worth your while. Once I reach my former glory, you'll be able to bask in it with me. Is what he said as you swore you heard the front of the castle be sealed shut.

The entire time he looked around the castle with disdain, cross as he complained about the state of his home. While helping him clean up some rooms, he told you more about himself. Vil was a prince who once lived in this castle, set to inherent the throne shortly after the death of his father. However, he was widely feared due to being a prodigy in dark magics and genius at brewing concoctions. For attempting to steal the life of a younger kinder foreign prince who specialized in good magic, he was trapped in a mirror with his tome being the only key to grant him freedom.

Vil actually appeared to be much too fond of you, which you attributed to his isolation. If you were imprisoned all alone in a mirror for centuries, you likely would've gone insane. It was a miracle Vil's mind was intact, but maybe he wasn't there entirely. Because what sane person killed people with the snap of their fingers while smiling so kindly at the one who set him free?

Pridefully he listed off his feats and accomplishments. Living prodigy. Most beautiful man in the land. Prince of the land. It felt too much like flaunting, as he wanted you to realize how truly great he was. He replaced your clothes with his own, and while combing your hair he reminded you that what's rightfully his will be returned to him one day, and you would be there beside him that day.

The crown was what he wanted, a crown he believed was stolen from him and passed down to the descendants of the very good prince he attempted to kill. He spoke of a future in the castle restored to its former glory, where citizens would be loyal to him once again, and those that wronged him will receive a fate worse than death. Positions were open for applying once he became king, he told you one day. He was still searching for a vassal, a knight, a jester, or a partner to wear a crown as well.

Was it the isolation that had driven him to become so attached to the one who set him free? It was possible, but you couldn't even be sure. For all you knew, he could've been like this before he became trapped in the mirror. What mattered now was that he did not make any effort to hide his attraction towards you. Vil was offering a thief all the riches he would attain after his plan for vengeance, and his heart in a golden box.

"Keep the knives I gifted you, although I doubt you'll have to resort to lifting a finger. Just allow me to handle it when the time comes. I want to extract vengeance slowly and painfully, make them hurt just as they did to me... And at the end of the day, you will be there, you little thief who stole my affections, to comfort me and drive away those memories of cold lonely centuries in darkness. You'll be there for me, won't you, my valiant savior?"

[misstrashchan]

I know people have picked up on the board game scene in RWBY V2 Episode 2 (Welcome to Beacon) as foreshadowing the events of the show, but for funsies I want to take a stab at how it foreshadows the general arcs of each four kingdoms myself.

So we have Blake playing as the Kingdom of Vale, and she's completely unaware of the events of the game unfolding and not really paying attention, clearly distracted.

"Alright Blake, it's your turn!"

"Huh? Sorry, what am I doing?"

"You're playing as Vale, trying to conquer the four kingdoms of Remnant!"

"...Right."

The Vale arc is the first three volumes of RWBY, where all our protagonists are at Beacon, but during that time, much like Blake during the game, they're unaware of the larger conflict with Salem, and aren't actively participating in the war at that point. They are ignorant and reactive instead of active. However it's ironic that Blake plays as Vale, since the reason she's not paying attention to the game and seems distracted is because, out of all the main characters in the Vale arc, she is the one most concerned about being kept in the dark and that they're ignorant as to what's really going on.

Blake: I just, I don't understand how everyone can be so calm.

Ruby: (approaching Blake) You're still thinking about Torchwick?

Blake: Torchwick, the White Fang, all of it! Something big is happening and no one is doing anything about it!

She also leaves the game during her turn, much like how she runs away after the FoB and the end of the Vale arc.

"Right. Well, I think I'm done playing, actually"

Yang is playing as Mistral, and she's the most savvy and knowledgeable (hah) player, winning many rounds of the game, teaching Weiss how to play, and has the other players falling into her trap cards.

"Heh, pretty sneaky sis, but you just activated my trap card!"

There's two ways this can be interpreted, with how the Mistral arc (volumes 4-6) is when our protagonists start to gather more knowledge and awarenesses of themselves and the world. It's also in Mistral that our heroes have their most decisive victory so far. It's fitting to have Yang playing as Mistral then, since during the Mistral arc she's the one who who learns from Tai to fight smarter, and to question the authority figures around her from Raven, and after confronting her in the vault is the one who retrives the relic of knowledge.

But, most of the losses our heroes experience are because of Cinder, who is from Mistral, and them falling into her own "trap cards" with the Fall of Beacon being orchestrated by her, killing Pyrrha and Ozpin. And in Atlas the same, with her manipulating Ironwood, undermining the heroes plans to evacuate everyone from Atlas, and killing Penny. She often finds ways to trick and exploit others, and is most dangerous when overlooked and underestimated, like falling into a trap.

Which brings me to Ruby playing as Atlas, where Ruby and Yang have this exchange after Yang's trap card is activated by Ruby:

"Giant Nevermore! If I roll a seven or higher, fatal feathers will slice your fleet in two!

"But! If you roll lower a six or lower, the Nevermore will turn on your own forces!"

"That's just a chance I'm willing to take"

In the Atlas arc (volumes 7-9) the theme of trust and taking risks is very prevalent. Like the move Yang makes in the game it is a risky one, that could end badly for her, but it is one worth taking nonetheless. They take the risk of trusting Ironwood but he ends up turning on our heroes. Oscar takes a risk trusting Hazel and Ozpin, as well as Emerald later on being accepted into their group, and it ends up working out for them. Ruby takes a risky chance in sending a message out to all of Remnant and evacuating Atlas, which saves a lot of people, but they still lose some, including Penny, a dear friend of Ruby's.

"Noooooo! My fearless soldiers!"

"Eh, most of them were probably androids anyways"

"Goodbye my friends... you will be avenged!"

Ruby acts distraught when losing her turn in the game as Atlas, expressing anguish over losing her friends who are described as androids by Yang, just like how Ruby is incredibly depressed and broken after the Fall of Atlas in V9, mourning the loss of Penny, who was both a sentient android and Ruby's friend. (I do wonder if Ruby's comment on avenging her friends might be foreshadowing for her wanting to avenge Penny's death in the future, like how Jaune tried to 1v1 Cinder in V5 to avenge Pyrrha, but I think it's too soon to say)

As a sidenote the fact it is a Nevemore in this turn that has a chance of turning on Yang or helping her is interesting, as it puts me in mind of two characters who can turn into ravens/crows, like the bird and poem Nevermore is associated with. It could pertain to Raven, someone who turns on Yang in v5 during the battle of Haven, but appears to help her and her friends in the V9 epilogue. It could also be about Qrow and his semblance, since during the Atlas arc it begins to evolve so that it is not simply a bad luck semblance, but one that can generate good luck too. In other words he can affect whether the chances are in people's favour or not.

After defeating Ruby (Atlas) Yang says this:

Yang: Not until I draw my rewards! Which are double this round thanks to the Mistral Trade Route!

Ruby: Bah!

Yang: Oh, and what's this? The Smugglers of Wind Path?

Ruby: Bah! Bah, I say!

Yang: I say, it looks like I'm taking two cards in my hand!

After the Fall of Atlas Cinder retrives not one but two relics for Salem, and with Atlas falling into Mantle, two kingdoms are destroyed in one fell swoop.

Then it's Weiss's turn. Weiss is playing as Vacuo, but has no idea how to play the game. Yang takes it upon herself to teach Weiss how to play and what she can do to win the game:

Yang: Well, Weiss, it's your turn.

Weiss: I have... absolutely no idea what's going on.

Yang: (Yang slides up beside her and puts her hand on her shoulder.) Look, it's easy! You're playing as Vacuo which means that all Vacuo-based cards come with a bonus.

Weiss: That sounds dumb.

Yang: See, you've got Sandstorm, Desert Scavenge... Oh, oh! (She pulls up a card to show Weiss.) Resourceful Raider! See, now you can take Ruby's discarded Air Fleet—

Ruby: (crying) Nooo!

Yang: —and put it in your hand!

We know from the end of V9 that what remains of the airfleet of Atlas, as well as the airfleet of Mistral and Vale, have all flocked to Vacuo's defence. What remains of the kingdom of Atlas, the airfleet, but most importantly the people, have now fled to Vacuo and are trying to make a home there.

Yang continues to give Weiss advice on how to win the game to Weiss, building her up, until Weiss starts to get arrogant, believing she's going to win the whole game and is the one in control:

Yang: And since Vacuo warriors have an endurance against Natural-based hazards, you can use Sandstorm to disable my ground forces and simultaneously infiltrate my kingdom! (Yang points a finger at Weiss.) Just know that I will not forget this declaration of war.

Weiss: And that means...

Ruby: You're just three moves away from conquering Remnant!

But then Yang turns on Weiss, activating her trap card, and Vacuo loses.

Since this is may be foreshadowing for the Vacuo arc that we haven't seen yet, I can only speculate what this might mean.

...But judging from the V9 extended epilogue and the books, my best guess would be that if Yang/Mistral is meant to be in part Cinder/Salem and their forces, then Weiss as Vacuo is in part the Crown. In the extended epilogue Jax and Gillian appear to be recieving help from Tyrian and Mercury, meaning Salem has decided to recruit them to her cause.

The Crown wants to restore the Vacuoan monarchy and detest outsiders, especially Atlesians. They do however wish to protect Vacuo from the same forces that destroyed Beacon, aka Salem, and so they are likely going to be manipulated like Weiss is by Yang in the game, being offered aid and giving them advice on how they can win and achieve their objectives, making them believe they can "conquer Remnant", only for them to realise later they were being tricked and used.

"Once again, Vacuo had been isolated from the conflict raging throughout Remnant—only this time it was an opportunity. With the global CCT network disabled, Vale in ruin, Haven leaderless, and Atlas closed off, Vacuo was theirs for the taking. This was likely their last, best chance for a generation. And it was their only hope to defend Vacuo against whomever had been targeting the other kingdoms. In likelihood they had written off Vacuo, like everyone else did, but if they tried to move against the Crown, they would have an unpleasant surprise.

Vacuo wouldn't break this time around."

Weiss: (Weiss stands and a thunder clap accompanies Weiss' overjoyed psychotic laughter.) Y-yes! Fear the almighty power of my forces! Cower as they pillage your homes and weep as they take your children from your very arms!

Yang: Trap card... (Yang's arm appears holding the card.)

Weiss: Huh?

Yang: (Yang shuffles the pieces on the board, Weiss' pieces disappearing in a puff of smoke.) Your armies have been destroyed.

Weiss: (Weiss slumps in her chair, cries and whines.) I hate this game of emotions we play!

Weiss as Vacuo may lose to Yang after realising they've been tricked, but is offered comfort afterwards by Ruby who relates to her losses and empathises with her, which is interesting since Ruby plays as Atlas. So I'm predicting at the end of the Vacuo arc they'll experience somewhat of a loss, whether that's the Crown, our heroes, or likely both, but Atlas will give support to Vacuo and the two kingdoms will come together to heal and ultimately work together, making steps to overcome their tense history with one another.

"Stay strong Weiss we'll make it through this together!"

"Shut up, don't touch me! "

...Which does make Weiss specifically playing as Vacuo especially intriguing, as she is the SDC heiress from Atlas, and Vacuo is a kingdom that has suffered the most in being exploited and colonized for it's natural resources by Atlas. From the epilogue it seems like the Schnees are being confronted directly with all the harm that has been caused by their family and kingdom, so I wouldn't be surprised if Weiss recieves a certain amount of focus during the Vacuo arc in deciding what her legacy as an Atlesian and heiress to the Schnee name will be. Moving forward to make amends, maybe inspiring the citizens of Atlas/Mantle to come together with Vacuo so they can all help and support one another, instead of isolating themselves and suffering alone.

Jaune offers to plays Weiss's hand for a turn also, with Weiss refusing:

Jaune: (Begging with both hands folded together.) Come on, let me play your hand for a turn!

Weiss: I'm not trusting you with the good citizens of Vacuo!

Which is reminiscent of how Vacuo is mistrustful of outsiders, as we've seen in After the Fall and Before the Dawn books.

Yang follows up to say that Weiss attacked her own forces, which could reference the infighting in Vacuo, especially with the Crown.

Weiss: Besides, this game requires a certain level of tactical cunning that I seriously doubt that you possess.

Yang: Uhh, you attacked your own naval fleet two turns ago. (Weiss makes an annoyed sound.)

Overall Weiss as Vacuo recieves the most help as any player during their turn, being taught how to play by Yang, offered comfort by Ruby after losing, and Jaune wanting to help her by playing her hand for a turn. This seems to fit with both how all kingdoms have flocked to Vacuo's aid in response to Ruby's message, but also Weiss as a character, who starts out "the loneliest of them all" but gradually opens up and warms up to other people. The crux of her arc being looking outside herself and at the people around her, relating to their struggles and coming to support them and being supported by them leads to her better understanding herself and becoming stronger for it... Which is kind of what the Kingdom of Vacuo needs to learn too!

Following this is Blake's turn as Vale, which I covered at the start of this post, but that's not the end of Vale's turn. We don't actually see it, but we know the aftermath of the game is this:

Yang: Ugh, we should have never let him play!

Ruby: You're just mad cuz' the new guy beat you!

Blake leaves the game during her turn as Vale, and presumably the "new guy" which is likely Neptune, who they'd just been introduced too, takes over her hand as Vale and wins the game of Remnant overall, even beating Yang and her trap cards. This is likely the endgame of RWBY itself, our heroes return to Vale after the Vacuo arc during the last volume for the final stand, where they win.

How and what that victory will look like I don't know, as we don't see the last turn of the game, so yet again this is even more vaguer speculation. Neptune doesn't really have much plot significance so I can't think there's any meaning to that except that he's a minor foil to Jaune, and the line of it being "a new guy" that wins, so maybe someone who recently joins our heroes side in the final act of the story, possibly Mercury or Cinder.

[regal-bones]

SWORDTEMBER DAY 4 : DRAGONSLAYER

The Caldera Calvaria, of bloodied metal and stolen crown 👑🔥 “Mockery. Domination. Control. The Skullblades were more than just weapons. They were symbols. They showed that anything, even gods, could be killed. These weapons are relics, older than our history, from when dragons still ruled The Continent. The wars between the Auramics and the tyrannical lords of magic spanned eons - this was the time of ancient legend, before the golden tendrils ensnared the land, before the great palace in the north was built, and blood spilt into molten silver. They fought for that wild, brilliant power the dragons held close to their breast, that shifting entity that they eventually forged their empire with over their rivals scaly corpses.  When a dragon was finally killed, when man conquered nature itself, driving its shimmering blade into the beasts beating heart, their body was repurposed, and changed. A sharp, shallow knife to peel away the skin, precise cuts into tender flesh. Meat and scales pushed aside until thick fingers gripped the beasts skull, their thumb deep within its eye socket. They would change it then. Shift it to their whim - bone to gold, dirty teeth left gleaming into the light of the forge. And of course, that one singular eye. Like an artists signature, the Auramic eye was moulded into the centre of the skull. The old face forgotten, warped like warm clay to leave room for this twisted perfection.  Encrusted with gems from their hoard and infused with its stolen breath, the sword became a tomb, a regal headstone, and would likely find itself again surrounded by familiar blood, deep within the chest of its old kin.  Now, no one knows where they are. Some say the Skullblades are sealed within a vault in the depths of Palace Regalia. Others think they are hidden throughout The Continent, waiting to give unwitting travellers power more than they can manage, and angry, bitter dreams. We can only hope these ancient giants are well at rest, and that nothing, not vengeance or rage, will wake them from their slumber.”

A Skullblade - a relic of the Auramic history. I hope the people who have been following the lore of the Curated Curios universe for the past few years (if u guys are out there!) like this one. A very important and powerful weapon. There are more skulls out there - perhaps we will see this blade’s siblings one day.

Yesterday’s sword!

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.8 K Warnings: None Prompt: In which you meet Sirius' real parents and go on a Christmas shopping spree. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 41: Urban Adventure

Wednesday, December 23rd

Sirius and you stayed by each other’s side until you arrived at the station and walked out of the train next to each other. On the platform, many students were smiling as they greeted their parents. You saw your boyfriend look at some of the scenes apprehensively, almost bitterly. That had been something Sirius had never gotten to do, at least never with his cold parents.

There were some couples kissing each other goodbye, while some kids held their heads up, trying to see above other people’s heads to find their families already waiting for them.  You didn’t bother looking for yours, you had told them you’d be taking the floo from Diagon, and that you’d be hanging out with some friends. You had gotten money on the response letter, a small enough fortune for you to buy as many gifts as you pleased, and a note that said something about them not getting home until late on the 23rd due to a work dinner that they’d be attending.  

Your father had sent you a separate letter with even more money, so you could spend as much as you pleased on your Christmas present. He had also sent a key to a vault in Gringotts inside that same envelope, saying that that was your 17th birthday present and that he thought giving it to you ahead of time would be clever, in case you wanted to save the money from your gift. He mentioned something about your vault already being filled with Galleons and some other family relics he thought you’d like, that he had originally moved it there because he needed to make space on the family vault but that you could take and squander as you pleased. Whatever was in the vault now, you could keep it as yours. 

You had been pretty pleased when you read that letter, although, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about what exactly your father needed to make space for in the family vault. Regardless, you had been so busy that day, preparing for the moon, that you didn’t have much time to ponder about it. 

You saw Nina hugging a round, older-looking lady who had the exact same hair and nose, you instantly knew it was her mother. You also spotted some of your other friends here and there, some greeting their parents, some others saying goodbye to their friends. Walburga showed up at the station too, she was wearing a long dark coat and walked past Sirius like she hadn’t even seen him. Sirius’ expression turned sombre as he too pretended not to have seen her at all. You had pretty much recoiled from her and into Sirius the moment she so much as walked your way and he placed an arm around your waist. 

“Ignore her,” he told you simply. “She’s just a bitch.” 

You turned to him, he couldn’t even hide the sour expression on his face, he’d told you about the night he’d escaped with the Potters, it had been absolutely dreadful and Walburga had never seemed more horrifying to you than she did when he told you the story. And since then, you had also found out about the veritaserum she had used on Reg, and even if she looked as stunning and put together as ever, you could see the monster hidden behind her elegant features as clear as day.

You had been thinking of how Sirius’ hand tightened around your waist when you saw Sirius’ expression switch completely, you directed your attention towards his line of sight, and you instantly knew why he’d cheered up so suddenly. A slim lady who must have been in her fifties was walking towards him with open arms. She had a warm and welcoming expression, rosy cheeks and the most contagious smile you’d ever seen, only battled perhaps by who you instantly knew was her son, James Potter.

She had short, neatly trimmed hair, and there was a small unruly curl falling over her forehead. “Sirius!” she said with a smile, “Look at you, I’d swear you’ve grown a few inches since I last saw you.” She had her hands around the boy’s face now and was looking at him affectionately, exactly like you would expect a mother to greet her son after not seeing him for months. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sirius was smiling happily as he greeted her, standing tall and proud as she mentioned her height and when she added, almost in a whisper, “And you’ve gotten more handsome too,” he even sent her a cheeky wink. 

You smiled brightly as you saw the interaction, almost mirroring the expression of the man in front of you, who looked just as happy as he stared at his wife greeting Sirius. He had a mop of black hair that seemed to have no trimming –now you knew where James had gotten it from– with a few streaks of white in sections and sunshine-bright hazel eyes. He looked slightly younger than the woman and had the same venturesome expression James had. There was no doubt about it, James Potter was completely and irrefutably, their child. 

“And this beautiful lady must be this Vixen you boys keep telling me about in your letters,” she said with a smile. 

“Nice to meet you, madam,” you said as you extended your hand, but she pulled you into a hug instead. If you thought Sirius had no sense of personal space, he was absolutely nothing compared to Euphemia Potter, but she had such a warm, honest and open aura, that you accepted her hug gladly, in fact, the shudder you had felt earlier when Walburga passed you by was completely forgotten the moment she embraced you as if she has some sort of calming superpower or something.  

“Please, call me Effie,” she said as she pulled back from you. “I’ve gotten a bunch of letters about you, even from Remus,” she told you with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

The man from behind, who had dragged Sirius into yet another hug as Effie spoke, turned to you with a smile. “Fleamont Potter,” he said as he extended his hand for you to shake, “but please just call me Monty, Mr. Potter was my father.” 

You smiled and shook the man’s hand, he was as tall as James, although he was rather thinner. You remembered James telling you it was his mom who taught him how to ride a broom and you thought it made absolute sense that she looked like the sporty one in the family instead of Monty. “My mother’s a big fan of yours,” you said. “She’s been using Sleekeazy since it was released.” 

Monty smiled at that, “Send her my greetings,” he said. 

“Do you know by any chance where James has gone off to?” Effie asked, looking at both you and Sirius. You exchanged glances, both of you had a pretty good idea of where he might have been, but you couldn’t exactly tell his parents that he was most likely –still– snogging Lily somewhere in the carriages.

“No idea,” you said as you looked around, pretending to look for him. “He said anything to you?” you asked Sirius who shook his head. 

Effie huffed and then shook her head as if to change the subject., “Where will you spend Christmas, darling?” 

You shrugged, “At home, I suppose… Mom and Dad haven’t talked much about their plans for this Christmas, why?” 

“Oh nothing, we were just going to invite you on behalf of James and Sirius, I’m sure they’d both love to have you with us. If not on Christmas day, you are more than welcome to come over whenever you please, we’ll leave the floo open for you during the entire break,” She said with a smile. 

“I think the boys are already planning to invite everyone over sometime for the New Year’s celebration anyway,” Fleamont added. 

“That would be lovely,” you said with a smile. “That way you won’t have to miss me as much,” you said as you turned to Sirius with a teasing smile, he scoffed in return. 

“You mean, you won’t miss me,” he sassed back, you shoved him lightly, and while still lost in each other's gazes, you completely missed Effie’s knowing smirk and Monty’s proud smile. Because of course, he was proud, ever since they had taken in Sirius, they considered him as their own, and frankly, he had been worried about his playboy personality. Not because he considered it inherently bad, but rather because he knew Sirius was doing it to piss his parents off by ruining his reputation even further, and because he was still trying to lick love out of knives, after having been starved of it throughout most of his childhood. 

Monty and Effie had vowed to make him feel loved and cared for, and they knew their friends were doing a great deal for Sirius as well, but they feared it not to be enough. The boy was still looking for love in the wrong places. But seeing him with you, teasing each other playfully, instantly told them that perhaps, Sirius’ need for love, would finally be fulfilled and he would no longer have to lick it off of knives, but rather he would be able to enjoy being fed silver spoonfuls of love by those he cared for so much. 

“You are definitely not telling my parents about my grades are you?” James asked as he placed both of his hands around you and Sirius, looking at both of his parents with a smile. 

You turned to him only to realise there was still some of Lily’s lipstick on his mouth and you turned to the side, pointing at a corner of the station, “Is that an Eagle Owl?” you improvised. And thankfully, both of James’ parents turned, and you threw a look at Sirius who decided to follow up while you used your thumb to wipe the smeared lipstick off his face. 

“Oi, what–”

“Shut up,” you whispered as you continued, “Your hair is messy enough, you really want your parents to figure out you were snogging earlier?” 

He gave you a worried look and you raised your eyebrows knowingly. Finishing the cleanup and then turning his head to look at the place you had pointed at earlier. Poor James was being manhandled and didn’t even complain about it because he knew how much help you’d been. Both you and Sirius, he might have had the best train ride of his life.  

“I must have gotten it wrong,” you said then with a shrug, “Sorry,” you added sheepishly, and Sirius had to hide the smirk threatening to grow on his face. 

Then James pretty much jumped from his spot, shuffling in between you and Sirius and reaching to give his mom a tight hug, even lifting her slightly. 

“Oh darling, you’re very energetic today, aren’t you?” she asked as he let her down, and it was almost impossibly hard for you and Sirius not to laugh after exchanging a knowing glance. 

He then hugged his father warmly and turned to Sirius and you with that same dumb smile as before, if you thought James was a goner for Lily before they started dating…

“We’re walking to a friend’s house and taking the floo home from there,” Effie explained. 

“Will your parents come and pick you up, would you like us to wait with you?” Monty offered kindly.

“Oh, no,” you said honestly as you looked to the side, there was a rather disproving glance from Effie that made you feel a little self-conscious. “No, don’t worry, I’m– they’ve sent me some cash, I’ll walk to Diagon with some friends and take the Knight Bus home, Mum and Dad are renting an apartment close to the Ministry of Magic.” 

“The Knight Bus?!?” Monty asked scandalised, not because it was a bad method of transportation or because of the pure bIood bias against it, but rather because he knew the driver and he was reckless. 

“Which friends?” Sirius asked with a frown. “We’re your friends.” 

You threw him a side glance, “Beth, Tom and I decided to get together to buy some gifts.” 

“And you are planning to walk all the way to Diagon?” Effie asked. 

“Well it’s too early to fly, and I don’t think any of us brought our brooms,” you added as you looked around trying to spot either Tom or Beth. 

Monty tutted, “Do you want us to apparate you there?” he asked. 

“I wouldn’t want to be an inconvenience, I’m sure James and Sirius are tired and want to get home–” 

“Nah, let them take you on a ride,” James said casually. 

You smiled after that, “If it truly is no bother…” 

“It’s settled then,” Effie said with a clap and an air of finality. “Find your friends, we’ll wait for you here, darling.”

You nodded and smiled, walking around the station to try and find Tom and Beth, Sirius and James both walking alongside. Beth was the easiest to find, she was talking with Mary and Marlene and you took the chance to hug the two other girls goodbye and wish them a fantastic Christmas. 

“You know where Tom is?” you asked the redhead and she sighed. 

“With Minho, I believe still inside the train.” 

“Oh fantastic, we can go look for them,” James said with a smile and you threw Sirius a glance, he instantly knew what you meant, and he had promised he would keep what he knew a secret, even from James, so he improvised. 

“Actually, why don’t we go back to your parents with Beth, Vix can find Tom and we buy some snacks to stock up your house’s pantry for the New Year’s reunion…” 

“Yeah, go ahead, I’m sure it won’t take long to find them both,” you said with a smile. Beth threw you a wary look and you sent her a reassuring smile. She knew you knew about Tom and Minho, she didn’t know Sirius knew as well, but she was sure you wouldn’t have told him without Tom or Minho’s permission and therefore decided to ask you about it later. 

You parted ways and bumped into a rather tall brunette girl, “I’m sorry,” you said politely, but the girl had turned to you with the grimmest expression you had ever seen. You were taken aback by her reaction and took a step back as you reached for your wand inside your pocket, not because you wanted to use it against her but because you thought she might want to use hers against you. 

Although… she smelled different. Almost like–

“Petunia!” you heard Lily’s voice from the side, and you turned to look at your friend almost in shock. 

Petunia as in, her sister Petunia?!? 

Lily ran straight to hug the disagreeable-looking girl and you let your wand fall back into your pocket as you pulled your hand out to greet the girl. You smiled politely, genuinely interested in meeting Petunia. Lily had told you something about the girl not responding to her letters, but she also told you that she was in her last year of high school and she was really busy as she attempted to apply for a Typewriting course in London, whatever the hell that might be.  

Petunia looked at your hand disdainfully and shook it with a very annoyed look. “Nice to meet you,” you said with a smile as you gave her your name. 

“Petunia Evans,” she replied simply and then turned to her sister as if exasperated. “Are you ready?” 

You turned to Lily who had the face of someone who wanted to excuse her sister and pulled her trunk behind her. You walked closer to her and pulled her into a much warmer hug than the one Petunia had given her, making sure to pass your hand over the back of her hair, which she hadn’t quite managed to get together after making out with James, “You have so much shit to tell me,” you whispered into her ear. “Prongs was absolutely panicked when he fled from you.” 

Lily turned red and giggled, “Merlin, please!” she said in an admonishing tone, and you just smiled teasingly at her. As you pulled apart you noticed Petunia’s look of disdain hardened. 

Good, she better fucking appreciate her amazing sister, you thought as you send her an equally hard look. 

Lily seemed to be able to sense the tension because she spoke again, “Where’s mom and dad?” She asked Petunia. 

“Didn’t make it,” she responded, perhaps that is why she was so angry. “And since they know I will be coming to London soon, they asked me to pick you up. Crossing that stupid wall was dreadful,” she added as she shuddered, placing both hands around herself.

How could Lily have such a dreadful –you used her very own words– Sister?

“Have a safe trip home,” you told Lily with a genuine smile. “Merry Christmas,” you added, giving a quick nod towards the taller girl and pulling Lily into another hug. “Don’t let her bring your spirits down, and write me all the details of the train,” you added just to tease her a little further, pulling back from the hug and giving her a knowing smirk that made her go red again. 

“Petunia,” you added, you were sure the way you said her name sounded as disdainful as the look she gave you in return and then walked inside the train. 

“Your friend is–” Petunia started. 

“Amazing?” Lily interrupted her before she said something that would annoy her, “I know.”  Petunia didn’t press further. 

As you walked inside the train you started looking through the compartments to try and find Tom and Minho. “Love birds?” you joked. There was no one else there according to the student counter near the entrance, “Come on, we must go,” you added. 

You were about to open the doors of one of the bathrooms when the one right behind you opened wide and out came Tom and Minho, both slightly breathless. You smiled knowingly at the two of them and Minho blushed a little more. His ears became almost completely red. Tom, on the other hand, only returned the look you’d given him.

“Sorry to interrupt your –talk–,” you improvised, and Minho was thankful you hadn’t called it what it was. He was not used to people knowing what he was up to, let alone who he was up to it with. “But the Potters offered to apparate us in Diagon and they’re waiting outside for us,” you explained, looking at Tom. 

“You and your angelic little face,” Tom said as he shook his head. “I’ve studied here for years and I’ve never been offered a ride by the Potters.” 

“Your parents have always come to pick you up,” Minho responded. The three of you were walking together towards the entrance, and halfway out Minho raised one of his hands to pull his satchel and threw Tom’s backpack his way. 

“Thanks, Luv,” Tom said simply and you would have sworn Minho’s ears were getting red again. 

By the time you were all out of the train, Minho gave the two of you a short goodbye hug and disappeared into the swarms of students. Tom looked at you and smiled.

“What?” you asked. 

He shrugged, “I heard you were alone with Sirius in the Marauder’s cart.” 

You smiled as you shook your head and elbowed him lightly, “I was… Until Prongs decided he needed a SexEd class and invaded us.” 

“Oh, I would have bet on Remus joining you in a threesome first…” 

“You what?!? We didn’t have a threesome! He asked Sirius questions.” 

“Oh well then,” he said with a shrug. Bet’s still on. “Wouldn’t have judged you at all, James is–” 

“James is what?” Minho, who seemed to have shown up out of nowhere, asked. 

Tom looked panicked for only a second before composing. “Really good at quidditch,” he said, “really good captain too.” Minho frowned. “Not as good as you, of course.” 

“Hmph,” you said playfully. “That’s your house’s captain, you're talking about Tom.” 

Then Minho gave you a teasing wink and cleared his throat, “You have my pen,” he said as he pulled a small silver and green fountain pen from Tom’s front shirt pocket. 

“And here I thought you’d let me keep it as a souvenir.” 

Minho laughed at that, “Merry Christmas to the two loveliest Gryffindors I know,” he added before turning around again. He no longer had his bag and you assumed he’d probably left it with his house elves or something. 

“But I’m the loveliest,” Tom said with a smile. 

“Yeah sure,” Minho said casually, as if he hadn’t been pining for Tom before the two of them got together. You just smiled, Tom’s self-assured personality could be intimidating to anyone, especially with someone as reserved as Minho, but it was nice to see that he wouldn’t let himself be teased without ever teasing him back. They really were an adorable couple. 

After Minho left –for the second time– it didn’t take much for the two of you to find the Potters again, Beth was having a really amicable conversation with Effie while James, Sirius and Monty caught up on how the boys had been doing in school. 

Effie smiled the moment she saw you and the boy walking by your side, “Thomas Harrow,” she said with a bright smile. “You are the spitting image of your father!” 

Tom smiled politely at that, “Thank you, madam, I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Just call me Effie,” she said with a smile and looked at him curiously. “The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it Monty?” she said as she turned to her husband who nodded. “Tom was on the quidditch team with me in my Hogwarts years.” 

“You played quidditch?” you asked with a surprised smile. “James, you never told me your mom was cooler than you,” you teased, James gave you a huff in response and Effie’s smile widened. 

Who would have thought all it would take to charm Effie Potter was Tom and Vixen? 

“I was a seeker, like James,” Effie said. “Runs in the family.” 

“Bet your little redheaded children will also be seekers,” Sirius teased and Effie turned to James with a surprised smile. 

“Is this about that Evans girl again?” she asked. 

James slapped Sirius on the side and then turned to his mom with a smile, “Didn’t I mention to you in a letter we went on a date last month?” 

Effie gasped at that and shook her head. “You did not! Even Sirius told me when he started dating this lovely girl,” she added as she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You did?” you asked, turning to Sirius with a surprised frown and he shrugged in response. 

“Of course he did!” Effie responded. “Can’t believe you’d leave me out, perhaps we’re getting old, Monty.” 

“Maaaaaa,” James complained. 

“Well, I think you don’t look a day over 25, Effie,” Sirius said with a sly smile. 

“Definitely,” Tom agreed. 

“You could be James’ older sister,” Beth added. 

Effie smiled as she shook her head, a dramatic air in her voice that reminded you much more of Sirius than it did of James, “All of your friends like me better than you do.” 

“That’s not true, Ma,” James insisted and dragged Effie into a hug. As she was being hugged, she looked at you, Tom and Beth with a sly smile and then gave you a short wink before returning her face to that fake grieving one from earlier. 

“Ready for Diagon?” Monty asked as he looked at the three of you and you nodded. 

“Better go now before it’s too dark,” you said as you looked at the big watch near the end of the platform. 

“Indeed,” Effie said as she pulled back from James’ bear hug. “I think it’s better if we take one by one, to reduce the risk of splinching.“ The three of you nodded in agreement. “Monty, how about you take little Tom and I take darling Beth first?”

Monty nodded and walked towards Tom who instantly offered his hand. Beth did the same and just before they disappeared, Effie gave Sirius a small wink and mouthed, “So you can say goodbye properly.” 

“Woah,” you said as she disappeared. “Not even sure why I tried to cover for the lipstick smear on your face, Prongs, I feel like Effie would have just cheered you on…” 

James huffed and shook his head, “At least you didn’t straight up out me,” he added, looking at Sirius. 

“Mate, you ramble to her every time you catch a snitch in practice, how would I know you didn’t tell her about Lily?” 

“Common sense?” He asked. Sirius gave him a stern look and he just huffed again. “I’ll go look at the train or something.” 

“So he can actually take a hint,” you said as you saw James turn around and walk a few steps to the side. 

“I heard that,” he responded and you just laughed in return.

“Love you, Jamie!” You said simply.

“If you’re gonna snog her, Sirius, you better–” 

You didn’t even hear the rest of James’ rant, Sirius had pulled you by the shoulders and turned the two of you around, pressing you against one of the walls and planting a proper goodbye kiss on your lips. 

You kissed back just as greedily. It had been some time since you had kissed each other like that, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy every second of it. Even if, as you pulled away from his minty breath and soft lips you were slightly dazed. Sirius smirked as he pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips, “You’re definitely going to miss me more.” 

Terrible choice of words, really. Two could play this game, you thought as you dragged your hand to the back of his neck and pulled on his hair lightly, dragging soft kisses through his jaw and down to that particular spot in his neck that made him overly vocal and you rejoiced when you realised he was trying –and kinda failing– to stifle a groan. 

In hindsight, kissing him like that in the middle of the station might not have been the most appropriate move, but even if you got some disdainful looks your way, the wall he had pushed you against was hidden enough and all people could really see, was two pairs of Gryffindors kind of snogging in the back. 

Sirius and you had equally competitive personalities, and neither of you would let the other win without competing properly, and in this case, the competition just happened to be about kisses. And you were most definitely at least one point above as you pulled back from his neck, giving the small bruise you’d purposefully caused a quick, wet kiss and then rubbing your thumb over the area with a little smirk. 

“There, so you’re reminded of me–”“ you looked up at him through your lashes, biting your lips to try and keep your smile from going bigger “–when you’re missing me more.” 

Sirius opened his mouth in amusement and you were sure he was about to make another move since you felt his hand threaten to inch down from your waist when Effie apparated again and you pulled Sirius into an innocent hug instead. 

She smiled as she spotted the two of you and tilted her head to the side just a little. “Merry Christmas, Puppy,” you said as you pulled away from the hug with a sly –insanely fox-like– smile. 

“Merry Christmas, Starshine,” he responded, his hand still around your shoulders. Effie couldn’t help but smile at the adoring look Sirius had given you. James had approached you then and you finally pulled apart to give him a hug, much shorter in comparison to the one you’d given Sirius, but just as tight. 

“Merry Christmas, Prongsie,” you said. “Take care of Pads for me, will you?” 

“Of course,” he said with a bright smile, and then a little louder, “I’ll keep him entertained so he doesn’t miss you as much.” Sirius rolled his eyes and pushed James lightly and the two of you snickered at his expense. “Try to keep yourself alive without us.”

You gasped at that, “You know, my close encounters have significantly increased since I met the marauders, so I’d say stepping away might actually give me better chances of that.” 

James shook his head with a smile and you gave him a short wink before walking next to Effie. She offered you her hand and you took a deep breath. “You get apparation-sick?” she asked you politely. 

“No,” you said honestly, even if that didn’t make you feel particularly at ease. You had apparated with Dumbledore a couple more times after that first class and you had managed to keep all those awful memories at bay by concentrating a lot. And you had been reading a book about Occlumency on the train before you fell asleep, but two things were making you nervous: you had never apparated such a lengthy distance since that moon, and you really didn’t want to give Effie access to your mind. Not because you didn’t trust her, you honestly thought she was lovely, but rather, because of how lovely she was. 

If she figured out what had happened that night, she may not actually understand why you had to keep it a secret. Something told you that, even if she had just met you, Effie would be more than ready to fight for your well-being and for what she thought was right. And while someone like her on your corner might be an excellent idea, you weren’t ready to relive that night again. 

“I’m just feeling a little drowsy after the train ride,” you lied, you weren’t sure if she believed you but she went with it anyway, you closed the distance between the two of you and linked your arm to hers. 

“See you in a second boys,” she said and suddenly the two of you were in Diagon. Tom and Beth right in front of you. 

You turned to her with a bright smile, “Thank you very much, Effie,” you said. “I hope you have a fantastic Christmas.” 

“I’m sure we will,” she said with a smile. 

“Merry Christmas,” added Monty as she took his wife’s hand and the two of them disappeared. 

The moment they were gone Beth pulled her list out and you all walked towards the first store: Flourish and Blotts, where you bought the very first gifts of the night, a book about History of Magic, but written by a muggle-born that you thought Lily would find fascinating, a romance book about mermaids that you were sure Nina would adore, a book about and a copy of one of the overdue books from the library Remus always kept on his bag. Beth also bought a gift for Lily there –a bookmarker– and you gave it an absolute passing nod when she showed it to you, still a little insecure on whether it was a good idea to have it or not. Tom bought like 5 different books for Minho because he wasn’t sure which one he would like best and even when both you and Beth told him he was exaggerating, he shrugged it off and decided he would buy them anyway. 

He regretted his decision when you walked inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, and he also thought every single thing inside the store would be perfect for Minho. At least this time around he actually listened and he only bought a Tutshill Tornadoes stationery set that included a mug with the seeker of the team –Minho’s celebrity crush–, a keychain and a notebook with their logo. You already felt bad about the poor Owl that would have to carry it all but he told you that he’d add a levitating charm on them. 

“You don’t mind Min will ogle at his crush whenever he has a drink?” Beth teased. 

“Not at all,” Tom said with a shrug. “I’m way hotter anyway.” 

Beth and you had thrown each other a look, Tom wasn’t lying, he had good looks and he was damn confident about them, not to say the guy on the mug wasn’t attractive. If anything, you’d both reached to the conclusion that Minho had pretty good taste in men. 

Beth and you had both bought your gifts for James and Marlene there. She’d gotten Marlene a stunning pair of beater gloves and you’d gotten her a matching pair of goggles and headband for sweatier days. 

For James, she’d bought some anti-rain spray for his broom and goggles, and you’d gotten him a small snitch keychain that you thought was adorable, you saw a beater bat and you got that one for Sirius and when you spotted the hoops and were about to get them for yourself Beth took them from your hands and told you that you’d see it again in Christmas. You also got a broom polish set for James and a small pin that said “Captain” which was more of a joke gift than an actual gift but the opportunity was too good to pass up. 

Tom bought a keychain for his father and when you remembered Effie had also been a seeker you decided to take another one of those cute snitch ones for her. You were sure she’d love to match with James. You also wanted to get something for Minho and in the end, decided to get him a very elegant-looking copy of Quidditch Through the Ages with annotations from Reyansh Atwal, the same seeker on his mug. 

“Oh, that’s brilliant, switch with me?” Tom tried to convince you as you all walked towards the register. 

“No way in hell,” you said with a smug smile. “You already have like 5 books for him, and your stationary set.” 

“But that is annotated by Reyanash!” Tom complained. 

“Sucks to be you, I’m a great gift buyer,” you replied with a smile. “I’m sure Minho’ll love all of your gifts, more than this one even,” you reassured as you moved and handed the money to the old man across the counter. “He’ll love them because it’s you who gave them to him.” 

“She’s right, young man,” the old wizard interceded. “I’ve had hundreds of books and trinkets, and I’ve cherished none of them as much as the ones Orlo gifted me.” There was an odd, longing-like look on his gaze that instantly told you that he missed that Orlo of his dearly. You wondered if the old man, like you and Tom, had peculiar preferences in regards of love. 

After that, you went to get some delicious ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Parlour since you knew he closed soon and the young owner Florean, gifted Beth a free icecream for being the customer number 100th of the day… although, both you and Tom suspected it was because he had developed a mini crush on her, that suspicion only grew when he asked if he could write her. Beth had laughed merrily and played dumb, not offering the man her address but thanking him for the free treat. 

Your next stop was Obscurus Books, where you found adorable pocket editions of a bunch of different wizarding world classics and you decided to buy one for each of the members of the reading club, including Nina who would now get double presents. And since you felt rather guilty about that, you decided to buy a few other books and trinkets for the other members you were really close to. You thought Nox, Neil and Todd would rather like the fantasy books you’d gotten them, and “The Book of Terrible Jokes'' you'd picked for Comet seemed to be right up her alley, be it due to irony or because she would genuinely make fun of how bad those jokes would be.  

You had also spotted a “Magical Chess Strategy” book there and after consulting with Tom in secret –who confirmed that Beth definitely didn’t have a copy of that one– you decided to add it to the bunch of books you already carried.

At Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, you found the perfect set of medical instruments for beginner Medwitched and you got it for Mary, alongside a beautiful golden and red set of Gobstones that you thought would go perfectly with Peter’s collection. You found a circle tin with his favourite cookies and decided to buy that as well. 

You got a watch for your father and a simple but elegant necklace for your mom, some sweets for the rest of the members of the quidditch team, a book about photography for Alex, and a small fountain pen –similar to the one Minho had recovered from Tom’s pocket earlier– for Nightshade, a matching one for McGonagall, Merlin knows she deserves the world for dealing with all of your bullshit, and some small packs of chocolate for the rest of the teacher’s that you’d hand out at the beginning of the year. 

After you paid there, you all walked out and took a seat near a bench, you were looking at your parchment and writing down everything that you’d gotten. 

“You got Sirius a Keychain?” Beth asked incredulously, especially as she looked at James’ gift, even Peter had gotten a nicer lot. 

“Oh, I’m actually planning to get Sirius some non-magical gifts,” you said as you finished annotating everything and called Barnaby over with a whistle. You performed a simple levitating spell and sent him off with all the bags, “Do you guys have everything you were planning to get from Diagon?” 

“Yeah,” Tom said, pretty satisfied with his haul. 

“Me too,” Beth added as she checked her bags. Her family owl had also flown down to pick them all up and take them to her house, while Tom just placed everything inside his bag, like Remus, he had also added an undetectable extension charm to it. You thought perhaps it would be useful to do the same to your own bag, even if your trunk, which you had left back at Hogwarts, already had one of those. 

Then Tom pulled a list out of his pockets and unfolded it carefully, a smile appearing on his lips as he showed it to the two of you, he seemed incredibly proud of it. 

But Beth frowned, “How are– Tom did you get a map of London?” 

He seemed taken aback by the question. Of course, the three of you knew how to navigate Diagon perfectly, and you certainly knew how to use the muggle underground, provided that you had an idea of where to go, but Tom’s list didn’t even have addresses, just the names of the stores and what you could find in them. 

Beth sighed, “How are we going to get there?” 

“We could ask around?” Tom offered. 

“If I remember properly,” you said. “There’s a small bookshop a few blocks from here –on the muggle side– and they have to have maps there, right?” 

“You think?” Beth asked. You shrugged in response. 

“Well, off to an adventure!” Tom said as he started his march towards the brick wall that would take you to Muggle London. 

You and Beth gave each other a look and after shrugging at each other, followed Tom all the way to the outside. There you took the lead, walking the few blocks and straight lines until you found “Daunt Books.” 

A small smile drew itself on your lips as you looked at the shop, you were pretty proud you had found your way there, without a map and using nothing but the bits of things you remembered from 5 months ago when you had taken the exact same path but backwards. 

It was in Daunt Books where you had found the copy of “The Picture of Dorian Gray” that you had gifted Remus among other very interesting muggle books, and you were rather eager to get back inside, you were sure you’d find other books there. The three of you walked inside the store and a small bell rang as the door opened to let you in.

There was a young woman sitting across the book counter flipping through some pages of a book as she tried to keep a diverted and amused smile away from her face. She looked up from her book slowly, as if she didn’t want to stop reading and then looked at the three of you with a smile. “Welcome to Daunt Books, may I help you with anything?” 

“We’re looking for some maps,” replied Beth politely and approached her, Tom followed swiftly and they started talking with her, you were sure Tom had put on his winning smile and was asking the lady to help him mark some of the stores he’d picked on the map –at least the ones that weren’t already on them– but you were far too distracted by a pile of books near the back to really pay attention to the conversation. 

You leaned down to examine some of the books and found the most fascinating little display with rows of stunning, leather-bound books from a “classic collection”. The Picture of Dorian Grey was there and next to it was a series of other books, some you’d heard of and some that were completely new to you. You grabbed onto one with a dark green cover and read “Frankenstein”, the tragic tale of the creature and the monster that created it. You grabbed onto it, and then onto a bunch of other books, some you’d read and thought Remus would love, and some you hadn’t but seemed right up his alley. Including a copy of “The Chronicles of Narnia” for Regulus. You had read the book and throughout the entirety of it, you’d thought of the Winter Witch as Walburga, he’d probably think it was funny when you told him about it. By the time you turned to the next row of books, you already had about 7 books in your hands. 

And then you saw it, near the back, there was a display of magazines and the absolute perfect gift for Sirius. You walked over to it and then pulled it from the shelf, it was a thick book, made out of magazine paper and it said “The Legends of this Decade”. There was an open version on display and you flipped through some of the pages. There was a section dedicated to the Beatles, another one to Queen, one for David Bowie, a very long special dedicated to the Rolling Stones and there were even smaller, 2-page sections dedicated to up-and-coming celebrities and groups like Bon Jovi (who you hadn’t heard of), Boston and Kansas (American rock bands of which you actually owned a few tapes you’d gotten back in the summer). 

You didn’t even continue flipping about and instantly took one of the wrapped books along with a special edition magazine dedicated to Bowie –whom Sirius adored–, a science magazine for Remus, and one that detailed the lives of the ABBA girls for Mary who seemed to really like the band. For a second you considered that perhaps you were going overboard with the gifts, and then you checked the money bag you’d gotten for Christmas and realised how freaking much you actually had left. So you thought, fuck it, and went straight to the counter with all the things in hand. You opted to not actually make the conversion of pounds to galleons and decided to just roll with it. 

The pretty girl gave you an approving look as she packed your stuff in a very nice paper bag with the logo of the store on the front section and you felt a little bit of pride at that. Of course, taste in books was relative, and there were books for everyone, but this girl worked at a bookshop, she must have read hundreds of books and if she considered your selection good, then it had to count for something, right? 

Tom and Beth thanked her for her help with the map and after a polite goodbye, you all left the store. “She was super nice!” Beth said, “I didn’t know muggles were so nice!” 

“Some of them are, some of them aren’t, just like wizards,” you said with a shrug and took out a bag of jelly slugs from your backpack and offered them some. 

“But she was delightful! If I wasn’t already dating someone…” Tom said as he grabbed one and placed it in his mouth. “She helped us mark all the stores on the map and even gave us a mini route so we could visit them all before they closed.” 

Beth nodded in agreement, as she too munched on a jelly slug, “And she even gave us some other recommendations.”

“And her number,” Tom chimed. “Although, I must say I suspect she was more into Beth than she was into me.”  Beth laughed and playfully hit Tom in the arm. You could easily tell they were really close, perhaps as close as you and James, or you as Remus were. “Oh here,” Tom said sometime later as he pulled the two of you into the underground.  

You had walked for hours and hours in London, you had used their bright red buses and even taken a cab, but you had never ventured into the underground. You thought it would take too much time and you enjoyed walking past stores and seeing the muggles doing their day to day so you stayed over the ground. 

But the minute you walked down those stairs you were absolutely fascinated by it, you had heard from the people in New York that the subway was dirty and had rats and, overall very many negative things, and while you hadn’t heard muggles explicitly hate on the London’s underground, you hadn’t heard them praise it either. Seeing now, in real life, made you think that perhaps those New Yorkers were exaggerating. There was a small group of people signing in one of the corners and many of them commuting around. 

It took the three of you at least a few minutes to figure out how to use the vending machine to get your tickets, but once you did, you all walked towards the train that the girl from the store had advised you to take with very accomplished smiles on your faces. 

After that, you visited a few other stores, some, where you bought some things, some, where you didn’t actually get anything. Tom dragged the two of you into Carnaby Chic Boutique and somehow persuaded you to buy some interesting muggle fashion items that he thought looked incredible on the two of you, he also got himself some clothes, and by the end of that little expedition, you might have been the most fashionable squad back in the school –as long as you were talking muggle fashion and not wizard fashion.

Then you went into a Vinyl shop, the one Daunt Books girl said would be open pretty late so she’d left it at the end of the short trip and you ended up splurging there too. You got all the new stuff from your favourites and Sirius’. You also got some chiller jazz and blues songs, since you had discovered Remus liked to listen to those while studying and you found them oddly comforting as well and you thought he might appreciate them.

You bought a few empty cassettes and a thing that would allow you to record some songs into them and make your own playlist, you were crossing your fingers it would work in your house (with all the magical interferences and such) but you got a pair of headphones. In case it didn’t, you would just walk with it –after charming it so it wasn’t as heavy– to the small café a few blocks from your apartment and record there.  

You saw some band shirts in the stores and also got a few of those, one for you with a really cool Pink Floyd logo (thought you bought it big enough in case Sirius ever wanted to borrow it), one for Lily with John Lennon (she had admitted that she’d had a crush on him back in 3rd grade), another Bowie shirt for Sirius (this one was technically a Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars shirt but it had Bowie on the front) since he seemed to love the one Andromeda had gotten him, and then a Sex Pistols one for Remus. Now you weren’t sure if he liked the Sex Pistols that much, but the idea of Remus Lupin walking around with a shirt that had “Sex Pistols” written in bold around the castle was too hilarious to pass up, especially with the wizards who had absolutely no clue that they were actually a band. 

After paying, the three of you walked outside of the incredible store and into the night. The sun had disappeared a while ago but it was certainly colder now than when you entered the shop. 

Beth sighed, her hands filled with as many bags as you as she sat down on a nearby bench. “I guess that’s it for today, isn’t it?” 

“I think so,” you agreed. 

“I’ll call the Knight Bus,” offered Tom as he looked around to make sure there were no muggles around and lifted his wand up to the sky. 

You walked next to Beth and sat there, leaning your head on her shoulder, as you waited. Then you saw a small light blink in the distance, and then all the lights to a store you hadn’t paid attention to earlier were on. There was a big green sign illuminated by the faint light of a yellowish lamp that read “L. Cornelissen & Son Art Supply Store”. You gasped, “I must go!” 

“What?” Asked Beth as she turned her gaze towards the direction of yours. “You want to go to an art store?” 

“I have to,” you said. “To get something for Sirius.” 

“For Sirius?” Asked Tom with a frown and you nodded in response. Then the bus showed up. “You already have like 4 other gifts for Sirius.” 

You made a mental note of how much you’d bought for him and decided correcting Tom was absolutely unnecessary, “Yes but… You don’t get it. It’s like you saw an all-Thubshill Tornados shop and deliberately ignored it, without even checking it out.”

“I had no idea Sirius was into art…” Beth mumbles. 

“Kids, are you getting on the bus or what?” a young pudgy guy asked as he held out a few tickets. 

“They will,” you said pointing at them. “I’m staying. I’ll call again when I require the lift.” 

“It might take a while, Sweets, we’re taking some people a little further out of town tonight and we’re pretty packed,” he added, he had a very strong Irish accent, that you would have perhaps considered nice if it hadn’t been so squeaky. 

“It’s fine, I’ll stay,” you said with a smile. “Home’s not that far from here anyway,” you added. 

Tom shook his head in disapproval and Beth spoke, “I really think it’s a terrible idea.” 

“As if I hadn’t walked around London at night before guys,” you huffed. “It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll um… send Barnaby over as soon as I’m home. Or I could even fire-call you if you’re really worried about it.” 

Beth nodded reluctantly and pulled onto Tom who looked a lot less convinced, “Slysprite, just get on you have enough gifts alrea” 

“We’re not gonna argue this one out,” you said with an air of determination. “And I’m very stubborn. I could win an argument, even against you.” 

Tom huffed as he tilted his head to the side, clearly unsatisfied with the turn of events. “You’ll firecall me, swear.” 

You nodded, “Swear!” 

“Time to go!” the conductor said as he urged your friends to get on by pushing them lightly and shut the door. “Take care, Miss!”

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile as the bus sped out into the street. 

You instantly remembered your first trip on the Knight Bus and almost felt sorry that you wouldn’t be there to see your friends’ reactions to it. You wondered if they had gotten the hot chocolate and if Beth would be mad if it fell on her white coat. 

Alas, it was time to get to the shop. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Badum tss… “How many pure-blood wizards does it take to navigate muggle London properly?” Now, I've left you on a bit of a cliffhanger, haven't I? Hope you liked this chapter, it's a cute and fun thing before things get dark. Love, Lils xx

Read more Marauders Fiction

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Bleakfather’s Throne

The world is heavy here, cold knaws at the bones of your companions making every step forward a struggle and the desolate wind sounds like a lamentation. Coming over the rise you see it, the regal corpse that rivals the surrounding mountains for imposing grandeur, the source of this dread season that seeks to smother all good things beneath its sorrow. 

Not all archfey are tricksters or stag-crowned gentry. Like the realm they inhabit, they embody stories, emotions, and the strongest aspects of nature.  The Bleakfather is an aspect of winter at it’s most cruel and deadly, as well as the sorrow that saps the will to go on living, all too common in those long, dark months. For ages untold he has sat his mountain-hewn throne, mummified by the cold winds of his domain as the depths of his misery chokes every spark of life from the land. 

So titanic in size, the bleakfather’s throne is itself a fortress inhabited by ice giants who claim decent from the archfey and raid in his name. They fear their father’s stirring from his glacial malaise, and so listen for his voice on the wind and scour the surrounding lands for any note of happiness that would defy the tyrant’s sorrowful reign. 

Adventure Hooks: 

With his eyes on becoming Jarl of the Bleakfather’s Children, an upstart Jotunn by the name of Talfjarn has assembled a warband and is going raiding in the realm of mortals, hunting the coast on longships the size of wargalleys with an enchanted storm at their back. Though he’s willing to crack towns open in the hopes of gathering pillage and slaves, he’s heard tell of a dragon slumbering somewhere up river that he wishes to test his mettle against. 

The giants have constructed a great temple in the vault of their father’s sword hand, where the trophies of great battles are heaped and the haunted wind howls between his pillar like fingers. Here there shamans divine the Bleakfather’s will, and listen for disturbances that might dare wake him.  Unluckily for our heroes, a celebration they attended ended up getting rowdy enough that its echoes were heard all the way in the feywild..and now a squad of towering winter warriors will be showing up to crash the party and put an end to their good times.   

There is power in mythology. It’s said in years beyond counting that the Bleakfather destroyed the ancient dwarven kingdom in order to steal a relic of great beauty upon which the dwarven lords and ladies swore their oath. Seeking to reunite the warring clans, a would-be hero has set her sights on breaking into the archfey’s vaults and taking back the relic.  It’s only after the party aid her in this daring task that they realize that her advisor had a very different end in mind: Waking the Bleakfather and letting him rampage through the material plane in a jealous rage, to better clear the way for a new order with the advisor at its head. 

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Sword of Body and Mind

Artist: Chris Rahn TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[musamora]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. implied breaking-and-entering, fireworks, metaphors about stars, soft!fyodor, he's secretly down-bad, he's also incredibly possessive. descriptions of moscow (red square, st. basil's cathedral), mentions of eastern european food (pirozhki), references to greek mythology (perseus and andromeda), jokes about greek incest. not proofread. 2.2k+ words.

author's note. starting the last of my fics for the year with the first bungou stray dogs character i've ever written for. thank you for such a lovely year! ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. within the last minutes of the year, sitting underneath the stars, two lovers discuss the stories mapped within constellations. in themselves, they find that some tales are timeless.

"It's so lovely at this time of night."

You couldn't contain your astonishment as flurries coasted to the earth in silent swells, dusting the city in a sheen of sparkling white. With an outstretched hand, you gathered flakes into your palm, admiring them before they melted with the heat of your skin. The riverside stilled as you coasted along the sidewalk, frozen in thickening ice as parents ushered their children away from its tempting surface. Tourists clustered under trees, shivering in their thin hats and coats as they underestimated the spite of Russia's wind. But despite the chill, there was an unmistakable gaiety in the air, smiles strewn on glassy faces as they awaited the new year.

You tailed behind Fyodor as he sauntered forward with broad steps, unable to catch your breath as the basket of freshly baked pirozhki settled heavily in your stomach. Your eyelids threatened to close as exhaustion crept into the corners of your vision; journeying between museums, promenading through parks, and scowering various foods had taken a toll on your energy.

You groaned. "Do we have to go tonight?"

He merely chuckled, the velvety bass of his voice tracing goosebumps down your spine, easily distracting you from the fact that he hadn't answered your question. Your field of vision spiraled into a haze, thoughts shot far in the distance despite the frost attempting to rouse you, left unaware as an assured hand ushered you inside a concealed entrance to the luminous structure slumbering outside of Moscow's main square. You walked forward into the endless darkness, only to bump into something sturdy. Your fingers carded through the puffed fur of Fyodor's coat, tugging on its ends.

"Fyodor?"

With a click, the room was brought to life. The high-vaulted ceiling outstretched to reach the heavens above, walls embellished with intricate frescoes of ancient Abrahamic tales. Flares of resplendent color danced across the floor as moonlight met glass, casting waves of softened light upon your skin. A labyrinth of winding corridors hid in the shadows, prompting any curious wanderer into a trove of antediluvian alcoves and chapels.

Your jaw dropped, gawking at every deliberate component. "What is this place?"

"It was a cathedral erected in honor of Tsar Ivan the IV." His gloved hand puckered altar cloth between his gracile fingers, tracing the embroidery as his mind drifted elsewhere.

You hummed, racking your brain as it itched in anamnesis. "Wasn't that the terrible one?"

He was silent as he released the fabric from his fingers, but the self-satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know. "Indeed. This place once brimmed with life, hosting religious gatherings and services for the denizens of this city." His boots snicked against the tile, the noise reverberating as it spun towards the ceiling. "It has been left as a relic of time."

You ever-so-delicately brushed your hand against one of the columns, not wishing to disturb the peace of stillness and rest that blanketed the cathedral.

"How marvelous."

Your attention went astray as Fyodor tinkered at a lock, the hinges of a thin door ricketing with unsettling squeaks as he stood aside, uncloaking a never-ending staircase to the unknown.

"After you."

Your muscles cramped with every step, dread buried deep in your gut as your vision remained impaired, the flashlight beam smattering inconclusive rays of light as it aimed at your back. It was almost like the architects had attempted to reach the clouds, their grandiose endeavor churning a flare in your back as you slumped against the wall, your lungs burning with every passing moment. Your spirit was invigorated at the sight of a door through the dime ire of light, basking in your relief as you stepped out the door, the crisp breeze of winter striking your skin as—!

"W-Woah!"

Your feet teetered over the ridge of the roof; only your ankles remained flimsily rooted onto solid paneling as your arms swung out to balance yourself. Fortunately for you, an arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you back against Fyodor's chest. A quick peek upward towards his impish expression revealed everything you needed to know.

"You must be careful, любимая."

Your breath was shuddery, inwardly wavering on whether to punch him or kiss him, the indecisiveness reigning victorious as you pointedly ignored the mellifluous lilt of his tone, hands binding to his arm as your gaze locked onto the ground several hundred feet below.

"Good lord, we're high," you muttered between pants.

His arms braced you further against his chest, leaning away from the perilous drop. "You're trembling." The tension in your grip eased at the sensation of a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. "You know I'd never let you fall, hm?"

"Right." You released the amalgam of tense breath that clawed at your throat, able to balance on your own two feet as you settled your view to the skies.

Your feet shuffled across the panels as you slogged onto a wider expanse of the roof, slumping against a wall as the tension evaporated out through your fingers, the nightmare of plummeting from the roof erased from your mind. However, you swallowed a yelp as the flashlight flickered off, leaving the both of you enshrouded in complete darkness—at least for a brief moment.

Clouds stacked in bunched within the stratosphere, mirroring fragments of light that bounced from below in a nebulose aurora. But despite the wonderment of their decadence, they lost their luster once the stars peaked through their fogged edges, the finite speckles scattered like freckles across the canvas of the heavens. They felt close enough to touch if only you reached out toward them, daring to do so. Your fingers trailed maps of these celestial bodies, finding a sense of peace in their familiar patterns.

"Are you familiar with Ovid's Metamorphoses?" Your voice pierced through the silence.

"I can't say I am."

You withheld the impulse to laugh—he had the entire compendium of books in his personal library. It would be a surprise if he hadn't at least skimmed them, but you decided to humor him this once, scooching closer to point towards a specific cluster of stars.

"Those are the constellations of Perseus, the son of Zeus, and Princess Andromeda, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia."

You took his silence as an encouragement to continue. "Perseus found Andromeda chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the sea monster, Cetus, by her parents in order to save her home." Your fingers drew out the character within the stars, a grin upturned on your lips as you envisioned the archaic tale in your mind. "It was told that he found her so beautiful that he slayed the monster, rescuing her before fighting against her uncle for her hand-in-marriage."

"Her uncle?" Fyodor mused.

Your nose scrunched in a grimace. "There's a lot of that in those stories, I'm afraid."

"The couple went on to live happily ever after—an extremely rare ending to most ancient stories."

"There is a simple explanation for that," he replied.

You snickered, already aware that your open-ended commentary would eventually lead to some thoughts from the infamously brilliant man.

His eyes rolled in return at your amusement, disregarding the tightness of his chest. "We hold onto ancient tragedies because they are a reflection of life. Nothing in our world is as simple as a happy ending." A vacant look ruled over his features, a familiar expression that often shielded his thoughts within the dark, contemplative hours of the night. "Most aspired heroes never reach their potential due to their blind devotion to selfish aspirations and goals."

"You're right," you sighed, hands balled against the corner of his cape in an attempt to thaw your frozen fingers. You wanted to say more, but it felt like your mouth was cotton-filled. So, instead, you returned your eyes to the sky.

"Sometimes, I wish I was a constellation." He looked at you. "Even with its flaws, this world is undoubtedly beautiful from above. I like to think the stars admire us just as much as we do them."

And he didn't say anything more; he didn't need to. Instead, he reigned you onto his lap, his coat shrouding your shoulders as he shared its warmth. You leaned into his embrace, basking in the flutter inside your chest.

"You're awfully cold, милая," he grumbled, his fingers mapping your frigid palms.

"Our roles are reversed now," you quipped. "I hope you think about this the next time you decide to stun me with your hands in the morning."

"I'm afraid I might forget," he whistled.

"You little—"

But you found your voice hidden underneath layers of crackling. You ogled as fireworks wiggled their way into the night sky, shimmering onto the city square, the towers of the Kremlin becomen heavenly statues as their structures temporarily glistened. Without a second thought, you grabbed onto his hands, giving them a squeeze with each pop. You were so attentive to the collections of radiant sparks that you didn't notice the eyes boring into your skin; Fyodor's gaze averted from the fireworks to contemplate the interlacement of your fingers.

He surmised you were to be his future the moment you had locked eyes for the first time—his destined, pre-ordained other half as he journeyed to actualize God's promised land. It wasn't a surprise that someone was fated to remain in his keep—another loyal follower, too intertwined in their own aspirations to connect to his cause without deliberate guidance.

But not you. 

You may not have supported his cause with the devotion of his witless flock, but you understood it better than anyone. And most importantly, you understood him. You peered through his intricate plans and performative malice, reading into his cause as you unraveled his intentions. It had been an enticing cat-and-mouse game, the both of you constantly entangled in a mental match, intellect and morals clashing. He knew you were his perfect match from your analytic dexterity, but he had no idea that you would pull at the strings cast around his heart, ones he believed had been severed long ago.

His heart had never belonged to anyone or anything—his mind and will were forever devoted to his cause, but his heart hadn't beat since before he could even remember. The sudden constriction of his chest was so foreign.

You must've been quite the powerful woman to kickstart the heart of a demon, excavating a trove of humanity he had buried within himself with a simple glance of your eyes—and all without knowing, your gentle expression puncturing through his abstruse masquerades, somehow able to see everything except the turmoil that you left in the wake of your very touch.

He found himself less and less concerned about the echoed beat of his heart within the emptiness of his chest, too captivated by your smile as you beheld the heavens with a benevolent expression, savoring the burning red and gold sparks despite their dullness in comparison to you. In spite of himself, your everlasting happiness had become an intrinsic component in his plans.

You were made to remain at his side—not as a brainless devotee, but as his equal and often opposite. The world, so rotten yet somehow divine through your benevolent gaze, may try to pull you away, but he'd have no issue burning cities to their ashen roots if anyone dared attempt to pry you from his hold.

His lithe fingers outlined the constellations of every freckle and beauty mark, star patterns copied onto your skin as his touch drifted your attention from the flashes and flickers to him, your inquisitive eyes scanning his face as he remained unmoved.

"Федя?" 

He shuddered with unparalleled delight at the euphonious sound of his mother language slipping like honey from your tongue, foreign to your lips yet dulcet all the same. Your bonniness beaconed him forward, a heat flowering in his once cavernous chest as he captured your lips, which were as soft as the powdered snow that glinted on your skin. His heavy breath tickled your nose, which crinkled in tandem with your eyes as you drew him in for another. Words became meaningless, his skin seared like static as your arms drew him closer, skin scorched from the cold of your hands against the nape of his neck.

He tucked your hair behind your ear, ensuring that your empyreal features weren't veiled further as flakes of snow flurried once more, your parted lips and shallow breath leaving him in a helpless state of complete limerence. He stirred as his hand brushed against your pulse, your own heart racing concertly with his.

You parted in bittersweet bliss, yearning imbued in your bones as your hands drifted towards one another to intertwine. His forehead rested against yours, your shared breath permeating in spirals within the open air as he peered into your hazy, glossed-over eyes.

His hand cupped your cheek, the frame to a divine masterpiece. "Ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. Твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен." He had never looked at anyone like this before, his ire thawed by the brilliance of your tender gaze as if he had melted. "Я бесконечно благодарен, что Бог привел тебя ко мне."

And you laughed. "You know I don't understand anything you're saying, right?"

He kissed your forehead, concealing his smile as his lips pressed against your skin. "You will one day, солнышко. You will."

любимая = darling милая = dear федя = fedya ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен = you warm my soul, my gentle sun. your beauty is beyond comparison; your mind is beyond flaw. я бесконечно благодарен, что бог привел тебя ко мне = i am eternally grateful that god brought you to me. солнышко = sunshine

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @justanotherjester @kotysluny @aureatchi

© 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[itssuppertim3]

Random Paladin Danse HC's That Make Me Smile

not that any of my minions know this, but i’m back into fallout and Paladin Danse’ ass is grass which only means one thing

fuckin

HEADCANONS

let the brain rot commence.

——————————

He obviously loves that education, and is always, ALWAYS, searching for an excuse to learn more about dead America. And who better to learn from than a relic of the past? You! On the other hand, my Sole was never a vault dweller, so she knows next to nothing about those broken gizmos other than what scrap they'll produce. So in one scenario you have big bulk man exhausting you with curiosity, and in another he's literally brimming with information to teach you. Both work well in my opinion.

Literal big brother energy. That kind of changes if or when you admit to him that his ass is literally bigger than a star, but throughout your time serving with him it's very clear that he works well with a sibling-like relationship. You may see him as an older brother, or maybe you just hate him. I dunno man. But all-in-all, he's always the first one there. Always at your side ready to defend you from whatever your postapocalyptic world launches at you. He's almost as loyal as Dogmeat. Almost.

This man stands CLOSE. Sometimes he doesn't even realize it; he just feels at ease being near you (especially if you don't use power armor). He's real caught on that savior mentality. Somehow he's only convinced that you're safe if he's just feet from where you're standing. And don't get me started on firefights. This big booty military man will jump in front of you with no shits to give. You even land a couple shots on him by accident, but that's alright. He doesn't really feel it. He really should prioritize his own safety sometimes.

He never drinks if he can help it, but that's only because alcohol makes him giggly. He'll relax with a couple beers, but anything past that is dangerous for him. He simply doesn't like the embarrassment of completely switching personalities in front of his subordinates. Even you, believe it or not. He likes things "clean, by the book," blah blah. So many people are convinced that he lacks personality, but truthfully he just prefers to act tough. It makes him feel 10 ft tall.

He sleeps with a body pillow. 100% I will live by that statement. Think about it: he practically lives within a wall of steel and cushioned padding. He's more touch deprived than a goldfish. He probably can't recall the last time he genuinely felt a person, which isn't something he dislikes. There's moments when even a pat on the shoulder is too overwhelming for him. He wishes he enjoyed having that closeness with someone. There're many occasions where he longs for your arms to be encased around him or vice versa. He wants to love, but he doesn't exactly know how. So instead of touching you, he spams you with uplifting compliments and hugs his pillow in Dansey bliss.

He complains about rain and bodies of water enough to convince everyone he hates it, but what's interesting is when he's in your company. Walking around like a transformer all the time, he's always prepared for stormy weather. You however... ehhh. He doesn't like it when you get drenched (😫) so he'll immediately scan the surrounding area for shelter. If there is none, and depending on the direction of the wind, he'll situate himself to where you get wet (😫) to a minimum. He's like your personal hunky umbrella. Every once in a while, you grow confused over the fuss. You may enjoy rain, or at least tolerate it, but he still wouldn't give a damn. "It would be irresponsible of me, as your mentor, to allow you to catch a cold under these conditions." In other words, he's a big worrywart over your wellbeing. And he's more used to patching up battle wounds. A sickly fever? Not so much.

You'd think he would be better at knowing your whereabouts, but he definitely isn't. With his suit having so many blind spots and you being so low to the ground, he's constantly losing track of you; hence why he chooses to walk behind you. When you stop in Diamond City, you like to prank him a bit by slipping away and making him go in big brother panic mode. You've tried it in Goodneighbor once or twice, but it never works there. Once you're behind those walls, his eyes never leave you. Not once. He scolds you more harshly when you play games in that town.

He loves to feel useful, even with something mundane like reaching something up high for you or even hoisting you up through a broken ceiling or over a wall. He additionally likes to show off strength. He smashes through walls and doors like cardboard, and crushes just about anything under his gauntlets with ease. On the other hand, he loves it when you feel useful as well. Sure, he can count back dozens of times when he could've dislodged a safe door or tore the wires from a terminal to deactivate turrets, but instead he chose to step back and admire your handiwork. And when you succeed, he always boosts you with praise.

The only hack he uses to style his hair is mud, sweat, and grease. And it still looks flawless every damn time.

There's no way in hell he walks around with all that cake and authority and NOT have an aggressive fanbase on the Prydwen. That just ain't so. There's a whole line of women in their baldheaded glory begging for him to notice them, and the hilarious part is he never does. Heroic actions and deeds in honor of the Brotherhood are what yanks his immediate attention. He's also trained enough soldiers to tell the difference between talent, potential, and kissing up. He hates those sorts most of all.

Keep in mind what I said about his awkwardness with physical touch, because when he's actually starting out in a relationship, it is so over for him. At first he almost wishes you'd remain friends just so you wouldn't give him heart murmurs every 5 fucking minutes. He also grows more protective over you than ever before, but that isn't surprising. Give him a few weeks to settle into this new territory and he'll gradually adapt. You do your best to go at his pace, so instead of downright kissing him you peck him sweetly on the cheek. The more you do it the more he realizes just how much he adores it. Even now he still has a hard time expressing his feelings, so you have to study close for any cues he may give you. Somehow if you're just not skilled at reading him, he'll eventually get persistent enough to lean towards your level and sit jagged and redfaced for a while until you deliver.

It's funny to watch him try and squeeze into an elevator. He'll go the extra mile to search for an intact flight of stairs just so he won't look like a Jack in the Box. Watching him squeeze back out is even sillier. He has to position his shoulders and knees just right so that his pauldrons or helm won't get caught in the narrow doorframe. It mostly works, though only because of all the trial and error he's had to endure.

----------------

alright folks it's 3am which means i have very pressing matters to attend to like sleeping

[bestworstcase]

option 1: tai’s guarding the crown of choice.

pros:

a legitimately important task that recontextualizes his ongoing decision to remain on patch as a personal sacrifice he makes for the greater good.

ozpin would pick the guy named for the god of light to be the gatekeeper of choice, huh.

if any parent in this story is meant to die, it’s him, and narratively this is the most intuitive way to do it.

cons:

realistically, what can tai do to prevent salem / cinder / summer from accessing the vault if they find it? if he’s the gatekeeper, staying on patch alone after everyone else evacuates achieves nothing except, ah, signaling to the enemy that the real vault is under signal academy. bad plan.

it means oz is breaking his promise to be honest and forthcoming, undermining his character growth for the sake of ‘surprising’ the audience with the most obvious answer.

means qrow has either been kept in the dark (see prev point) or he’s also deliberately hiding this information from his nieces after they asked him outright if he knew where tai is; this is so far afield for his character as to border on character assassination, and likewise undermines his positive growth since v7.

honestly makes both yang and ruby seem kind of stupid. they know the crown is hidden somewhere near beacon, that ozpin did something to protect it differently from the others, and that their father hasn’t left patch. ruby was sharp enough to guess that long memory might be a relic hidden in plain sight; yang is just as smart, and she knows tai had “some things” to look after on patch. are we expected to believe that “hey, is dad guarding the relic?” somehow hasn’t occurred to either of them?

tai harbors a whole lot of resentment toward ozpin, and based on qrow kicking him out of ruby’s bedroom to drip-feed her hints on where to go next, he seems to have been on the outer perimeter of the inner circle. why would oz entrust him with the relic’s safety?

glynda—ozpin’s scrupulously loyal second-in-command whose emblem is a crown and whose semblance puts her on par with a maiden—is a far more narratively plausible vault-guardian than tai, and the “sun dragon” makes a damn good red herring.

if he’s guarding the vault, he dies. sorry. but the point of putting the father of 2/4 protagonists in between the two main villains and the thing they want most (choice) is so they can kill him to get it, increasing tension and raising the emotional stakes of negotiating peace. to be clear, rwby is willing to Go There, but i think it’s an unsatisfactory way to close out the rose xiao long family arc.

option 2: survivors trapped under mountain glenn, and tai is taking point.

pros:

a genuinely important, worthwhile thing for him to be doing—even more so than guarding the crown. likely sets up a resolution for him in the vein of “you can be a good huntsman or a good father, and tai picked being a huntsman,” which is an elegant way to balance his contradictions.

gives him meaningful stuff to do in v10; for example, one stealthy huntsman with a bullhead could slip in and out of mountain glenn to get a few dozen people out at a time, and/or run supplies and messages between the kingdoms.

we get to see zwei back in action around mountain glenn :)

introduces a natural segue from playing defense in vacuo to mounting a counteroffensive against beacon as tai’s work clarifies the situation in vale.

easily the most 'heroic' direction for him without contorting the story to arbitrarily lionize tai: he’s a scout preparing the stage for the heroes to take the fight to salem, making him the good counterpart to watts.

cons:

makes no sense to keep it a secret. the emotional beats of B4 can still happen if the girls know this is what tai’s doing: instead of “do you… wonder why he’s not here? i know qrow said he’s on assignment, but what’s more important than here?” yang says “do you… wish he were here? with us? i know qrow said he’s looking for survivors, but how many of them can there really be by now? we need all the help we can get,” and ruby says “maybe we don’t have the full picture” as in maybe dad knows something we don’t and that’s why he hasn’t given up yet. the emotion is the same, and the big "they’re hiding in mountain glenn" reveal is hinted without spoiling.

leaves hanging the narrative thread of what tai has been doing since the fall of beacon, because the “some things” he was dealing with in v4 obviously wasn’t this.

option 3: tai is dead.

pros:

explains the apparent secrecy; qrow knows tai was away “on assignment” (i.e., had taken a huntsman contract that brought him out of the kingdom) at the time salem attacked vale, so he is missing but not yet presumed dead.

might reopen the mystery box of summer’s last mission through the real-deal “left on a mission and never came back” echo.

cons:

raven would know.

it’s a cheap, narratively unsatisfying twist that fails to deliver on the bread crumbs set up in v2-3 (tai starts going on missions again) and v4 (“some things”), and also undermines any serious emotional resolution with regard to yang and ruby’s complex relationships with tai.

option 4: summer’s working with salem, and tai is trying to convince her to come back.

pros:

“some things” being his presumed-dead wife who left him to join the enemy and with whom tai is now having an affair or otherwise hoping to coax back to the heroic side through the power of love whilst also keeping his mouth shut about her being a) still alive and b) a traitor is OBJECTIVELY the funniest answer.

brings forward and interrogates the way tai’s romantic grief informs the choices he makes as a parent: from hiding raven and then refusing to talk about her with yang, to shutting down when he lost summer and letting his five-year-old pick up the pieces, to discovering and then keeping summer’s secrets for the sake of some faint hope that she might finally come back to him.

cogent with the Dead (Absent) Mother / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother fairytale paradigm rwby deconstructs with raven, tai, and summer; the father chooses the stepmother over his children.

raises the emotional stakes of the war for summer through direct confrontation with the life she left behind, creating narrative opportunities to develop her character (is she still in love with tai? how does she feel about being his first priority, over their children? does she resent that he has her on this pedestal even now?) and apply pressure to her relationships with salem and cinder (do they know? is summer keeping her communication with him a secret, too? or is he an “asset” she’s using for salem’s benefit?).

consequently, raises the momentum of the narrative toward negotiation with salem; tai still has the coalition’s trust, however strained his personal relationships may be. summer is the obvious ambassador for salem’s side of the war, but she’s also the traitor who needs someone to vouch for her good intentions.

the secrecy needs no explanation: just as summer’s last mission was a summer secret, tai’s "assignment" is a taiyang secret and the girls know everything that oz and qrow do, because all of them have been left in the dark. raven might know, and she has the means to find if she doesn’t, but tai’s whereabouts are entangled with what raven knows about summer, so she can’t explain where tai is or why until she reveals her deep dark secrets about what happened between her and summer that night.

foreshadowing is solid: tai starts to go on "missions" again in v2, after the inner circle becomes aware that salem has infiltrated beacon and just before the breach downtown. when ruby visits summer’s grave in v3, she says "[dad] told me he’s going to be on some mission soon! i think he misses adventuring with you." he’s got to "look after some things" (but he isn’t talking about yang, because he stays home after she leaves). and then with B4 we have ruby echoing what the blacksmith taught her about summer in relation to tai, "maybe we don’t have the full picture?"

juicy

cons:

???

dependent on the unconfirmed theory that summer is working for salem as herself, not some unrecognizable enslaved monster, but i am as confident in that as i was about salem going to vale next and we all know how that turned out :)

taking their mom was not enough salem had to go for the full set APPARENTLY

option 5: secret fifth thing

pros:

???

cons:

???

[superiorsturgeon]

Jaune: *wearing a suit and standing in front of a whiteboard* …and that’s why I think you should invest in the JNPR Jackalope ranch!

Whitley: 🤨

Whitley: …you want me to invest the few assets my family has left in a farm for…

Whitley: *checks his notes*

Whitley: …a giant antlered rabbit that you claim to have met in a fairy-tale world?

Jaune: …yes…? 😅

Whitley: 😑

Whitley: …leaving aside everything else that’s wrong with this…

Whitley: …you said you only found this giant rabbit by accident from inside a Kingdom Vault holding a secret relic, which can’t be accessed without some kind of special magic powers!

Whitley: How exactly would you even get your first…jackalope…?

Jaune: Actually, I’m glad you asked…!

Nora: *opens boardroom door* Hey, fearless leader? The police are starting to ask questions about a break-in at Shade Academy, so we’d better wrap this up!

Somewhat: Rusted Knight, the police in your world don’t have any sense of humor!

Juniper: *giant bunny noises*

Whitley: …

Whitley: *extends his hand* You know what? I’ve changed my mind! If you can evade the authorities, give me a call and we’ll get something set up!

[scuttlingcrab]

Can you pls do a Durge x Raphael after their first kill at the camp? Would LOVE to see what you do with him in that situation. ;)

Thank you for this, Anon! I’ve gotten a few Durge prompts that I hope to fulfil this month, as I’m finally making my way through playing The Dark Urge for the first time! (This run is Durge resisting the Urge, haha) Hopefully by the time they release the new endings in September, I’ll go fully evil. One thing though.. I am OBSESSING over Minthara… so I’m hoping to start writing some fics focused on her real soon because MAMA MIA!

Summary: After Raphael witnesses Tav committing a gruesome murder, he begins plotting how he could use their vulnerability, and lack of memory, to his advantage.

Notes: Warnings for violence.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

In the Dark of the Night

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

Raphael spent another night at Tav's camp, lurking from the comfort of the treeline as he watched them eagerly, playing with his fingers in anticipation for what he hoped would be a bloody spectacle. He failed to keep count of how many nights he stood there, spying on them since their first encounter at the Druid Grove. 

Far too many at this point, embarrassing even for a Devil’s standards. 

He obviously had other imperative things to be getting on with, he would never be able to succeed in uniting the Hells by simply dawdling about and waiting for things to fall in his lap. Though much to his chagrin, being present at that wretched mortal camp slid to the top of his priority list. Even more than his infernal duties and all the discarded contracts that piled up the longer Raphael bid his time. He could practically feel the mounting pressures digging into his shoulders, his knees buckling from the weight of it all. 

Then there was the Crown of Karsus, always that damned Crown with Raphael. Since the fall of Netheril, he had been swept away by the promises of glory, of dethroning Asmodeus and occupying his seat of power in Nessus.

The wounds of that fiasco, of letting his father get the best of him, never fully healed. The mistakes played repeatedly in his memory. Over and over. As a lesson and as a punishment.

Raphael cursed all three of the Chosen for wasting the relic’s true potential on an Elder Brain, thinking that alone would aid their plights for total domination. The crime of the millennia. Those damned imbeciles! By the Gods, Raphael laughed, cried, and raged at the notion when he first heard Gortash had succeeded in breaking into Mephistopheles' vault, stealing the one and only artefact he had ever desired. 

It would all spectacularly blow up in their faces soon enough. The Crown’s earth shattering waves, its raw power, could be felt even in his House of Hope as the strength intensified, the doomsday clock proceeding with its countdown. Raphael would be there, watching their work crumble at their fingertips, witnessing firsthand the Chosen's faces warping in horror at their doomed fates. 

Despite everything, unseen forces still managed to push Raphael in the direction of those foolish mortals again and again, and towards one individual in particular. The Devil had watched each companion closely, but his obsession grew with Tav. No magic or potion could dislodge them from his waking thoughts in the days after the Nautiloid crash, or rid them from invading his dreams.

In truth, the other companions were dull, uninspiring, and Raphael quickly discarded them like a worthless piece of garbage. Of course, he could use their souls, he would never say no to that, but he had no interest in going out of his way to secure a deal when Tav offered him so much more.

At their first meeting, Raphael instantly recognised the rotting strength of Bhaal oozing from Tav, his nose twisting in repulsion from the memories the smell elicited. Yet something was different about them, unlike the other Bhaalspawn he had come in contact with. He couldn’t quite place it at first until he focused on their visage. Their skin was pale and their eyes bloodshot, flashing nervously around the room, as if they heard voices scratching against their skull. 

When was the last time Tav killed, truly? Made a glorious sacrifice in the name of Bhaal? He had never seen someone suffer such a withdrawal or resist Bhaal’s murderous temptations. They could only go on for so long until something snapped, satisfying their urge, and quieting their God.

Something big was brewing and Raphael wasn’t going to miss a moment. 

Raphael peeked his head through some bushes as he gave the camp another once over, his eyes darting to Tav near the campfire. They still remained lying on their bedroll, sleeping soundlessly. 

Without notice, Raphael’s skin prickled and he stiffened, holding on to the nearest tree trunk as his chest spasmed. His upper body continued to be yanked forwards in an abrupt, and rather rude, summons. 

“Korrilla…” Raphael hissed.

He clenched his jaw in anticipation, loud drumming filling his ears as he flickered in between the forest at the campsite and his House of Hope. The two locations could not have been more different, the contrast assaulting his senses. Images of Korrilla filled his vision as he was pulled further from the mortal plane. She stood in his central chamber, arms crossed and impatiently tapping her feet.

“You are late for a meeting, Master.” Korrilla warned, her voice rattling through his head. 

“I am busy.” Raphael growled, practically tearing the final syllable apart in his mouth.

“I can keep them waiting for only so long before they will start asking questions… I do not want to hear your complaints when they retreat back into their Iron Tower.” Korrilla raised an eyebrow as a final plea.

Raphael paused as the pair engaged in a staring contest.

“Very well. Tell Dispater I will be with him shortly. I am willing to forfeit a few more souls to appease him, that should be an effective enough apology for the Archdevil. I will join you once I am finished with this prospective client.”

With that, Raphael viciously snapped his fingers, cutting off any further communication with the Warlock. 

Raphael groaned, removing his hand from the tree. The wood was scorched, leaving a deep charred imprint where he had grasped it. His fingertips still sizzled and he blew on them, hoping to cool himself down. Let the Lord of Dis wait. This was far more pressing. He rubbed his temples, blinking away the rest of the discomfort from the summons, the world around him finally stilling. 

He peeked through the bushes again and gasped, his heart dropping to his stomach. Tav was no longer sleeping, but stood tall. They were speaking to a bright-eyed Tiefling named Alfira, who had only just joined the camp. The other companions around the campfire, Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach, remained lost in their dreams, undisturbed by whatever conversation the pair were having. 

Raphael’s scalp tingled as goosebumps ran down his spine and across his arms. And he had nearly missed it! He held his breath, remaining frozen in place, on the off chance Tav might hear his quickening heartbeat. 

Alfira smiled at Tav, looking at them with adoration and warmth, seeming to have an overall pleasant exchange. As she talked, Tav reached for the dagger at their belt, slowly unsheathing it. They aimed it at the Tiefling’s throat, unmoving as their knuckles grew whiter from squeezing the hilt. Alfira jumped back, arms out wide in shock. She laughed nervously, eyes dancing between the dagger and Tav. 

The poor thing... 

Raphael barely saw it, the movement was smooth, swift, and clean; faster than lightning, but the damage was done before Alfira could even register what happened. Within seconds, her eyes grew in terror, nearly bulging from her head as a cut appeared across her throat. She held onto the wound as blood began to gush through her fingers, quickly soaking her dress. She opened her mouth, attempting to call out for help, for anyone, but she never had a chance to utter another word. Alfira collapsed, falling onto her back. Tav lunged at her, as if caught in a trance. Their stabs were deep and personal, and seemingly never-ending. They somehow found a new spot to dig their dagger in again and again long after Alfira expired.

Blood rushed to Raphael’s head, his ears pounding like war drums as Tav began gutting the Tiefling. They proceeded to use the gore spilling from Alfira to paint the markings of Bhaal around the corpse. 

So the deed was done. It all happened in a matter of minutes, but to Raphael it felt like hours had passed as he observed from the shadows. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scene, they sparkled with curiosity and acclaim for the sheer skill of the murder. And for the possibilities that awaited him. 

With the dagger back in its sheath, Tav stood as still as a statue, their arms outstretched, basking in the kill.

Raphael took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. The second act was about to begin. 

He would need to compose himself before making a grand entrance, otherwise it would scare Tav away. His usual flair for theatrics might not suit their tastes on this occasion; he needed to ease their nerves, guide them back from the spell they were under and use that to his advantage. 

Snap! 

Raphael teleported behind Tav, sitting casually on one of the massive boulders next to the campfire. 

“You are quite the artist.” Raphael began, crossing his arms in front of him. “I should applaud you, but I’d risk waking the others.” 

Tav twirled around, drawing their dagger at his sudden appearance. Recognition flickered in Tav’s eyes and the weapon staggered for a split second as they nearly lowered it, but they quickly changed their mind. They took a step towards Raphael, the dagger aimed at his heart.

Raphael raised his hands as an act of surrender, he wouldn't dare trigger another murderous episode so soon. Though, he let that thought remain… wondering if they would go so far as to massacre their entire camp?

“I must admit, I was rather taken by your commitment and overall execution. The nature of your work always piqued my interests. Although I don’t think I could ever stomach something such as…” Raphael tilted his head towards the corpse. “Truly, it was an honour getting to see a master perform such barbarity in the flesh.”

Raphael rose from the boulder, giving his deepest bow as a sign of respect. 

Tav turned around, only just realising the body behind them. They backed away from it, dropping the dagger as their hands trembled. 

“I… huh? No. No! W-what is going on? What is the meaning of this? Is this one of your cruel jokes, Devil?”

“A joke? Hah!” Raphael promptly covered his mouth as the laughter escaped his lips. He looked around the camp cautiously, waiting for at least one of the companions to stir, but they all remained asleep. 

He resumed, in a quieter, hushed tone.

“No, no, my murderous friend, there is no blood on my hands. See?” Raphael twirled his digits, taking a moment to admire his nails amid the glowing campfire. “Look carefully, the evidence is all around you.”

Tav’s head dropped to their hands, their eyes deepening with dread as they took in all the blood. They desperately tried to wipe away the evidence on their trousers, their nightshirt… but it remained stuck to their skin. They fell to their knees, grabbing their head and pulling at their hair.

“Oh Gods… NO! I-I don’t know… no…I… it makes no sense, I was only…”

Shadowheart stirred in the sleeping bag next to Tav. Warily, Raphael raised his index finger to his lips. 

“Hush now, else you’ll rouse the entire camp. I don’t imagine you’d find that very helpful.”  

“This is all a nightmare. Yes. A nightmare. This whole thing, it’s not real. No. Nothing is real. You’re not real. I’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal. That’s it. You’re OK. You’re OK…”

Tav folded into a ball, holding on to their knees as they rocked back and forth, muttering nonsense. Raphael titled his head, his face a mask of serenity but his eyes burned, radiating with excitement. 

“Do you have no memory of… ?” Raphael pointed towards the corpse. 

Tav shook their head, staring coldly at Alfira’s body.

“I… I don’t remember anything. Nothing. Not from tonight or before that fucking crash. I barely know who I am. It’s like I never existed.”

Tav’s face curled with distaste at the situation, their eyes glazing over in resignation. Countless opportunities flooded towards Raphael like a dam bursting, nearly knocking him over. Oh, the things he could do with this newfound knowledge, how he could shape and mould Tav as he saw fit. How utterly delicious.

All he had to do was snap his fingers and their memory would be restored… It was that easy. But the truth would destroy them. They weren’t ready to learn what they were, what they were capable of. They’d self-destruct, surely. Dooming all his future plans, the thousands of years he spent planning, scheming. No, it was not a gamble he was willing to take. Not yet.

“Perhaps I can be of service then?”

Tav slowly looked up at Raphael, their eyes concentrating on him.

“You’re unfortunately too late.” 

“My, we give up easily. The body. Allow me to dispose of it for you.”

Tav opened their mouth, their forehead scrunching. 

“I don–”

Raphael raised his hand dramatically above him, cutting their words short as he prepared his thumb and middle finger.

Snap! 

Alfira’s body disappeared in a flurry of sparks. Tav jumped back, suppressing a scream at the sudden fiery display.  

“I’ll give you this one for free. And mind you, this is entirely an altruistic act. I don’t ever want to hear you or any other mortal say a Devil can’t be sympathetic again.”

“Why…?”

Tav’s eyes filled with tears as they looked away from Raphael, shaking their head in confusion. In denial. The Devil kneeled down, placing a comforting hand on their shoulder, squeezing it lightly. He allowed his fingers to soak up the warmth from Tav, leaving his hand to rest on their body for perhaps a second too long.

“Merely a taste of what’s to come, of what I can offer you in the days ahead. The next one will come at a price however, which we can negotiate in due time.”

“And my memory…?” Tav sniffed, their eyes locking with Raphael’s.

"It will return. You might not want to know who you really are, in the end. But when you’re ready, I will find you. I’ll be watching.”

Raphael stood up, patting away the dirt from his knees.

“Oh, I’d wash the blood off your hands if I were you. And maybe get rid of that little shrine to Bhaal while you’re at it. Your companions will be asking questions in the morning and you don’t want to cause any more suspicion.” 

Snap! 

A flaming portal appeared behind Raphael, leading straight to his Chamber of Egress.

He made one final flourishing bow to Tav, before turning away from them and walking through the gateway.

"Oh, the fun we’ll have." Raphael whispered, humming a tune as he disappeared. "Together, we’ll paint the town red."

[strqyr]

qrow's reaction to leo's staff being away—"what? leo, you can't be serious. who's guarding the relic?" // "no, reckless is leaving one of the relics completely unguarded."—is actually pretty damn telling when not a single soul in the know shows any concern over salem getting the crown of choice.

there certainly isn't any staff at beacon to protect it, and it's not like the lamp of knowledge was out in the open, ready to be taken; the vault alone was accessible by a hidden elevator, the spring maiden was unknown at the time, yet they still considered the lamp to be at risk while the crown isn't, despite the fact that salem has full control over beacon and cinder is the fall maiden.

so, safe to say the crown isn't at beacon, yet by qrow's own words, any relic should still be guarded by someone; it would be reckless to not do so.

and when qrow also says that tai is on an assignment that prevents him from being in vacuo when everyone else is already there, well... put that as another point towards tai guarding the crown of choice, wherever it might be hidden.

[blueiscoool]

A Hoard of 122 Anglo-Saxon Coins Sells at Auction

A hoard of more than 100 Anglo-Saxon coins discovered by two metal detectorists in a field near Braintree, Essex, has been sold auction at Noonans Mayfair on February 21. Believed to have been buried in 1066 and owned by an individual who died during the Battle of Hastings. The collection of Anglo-Saxon pennies found by two metal detectorists have been sold for £325,560 ($411,000) at auction.

The coins were each worth 12 shillings, a considerable sum back in 11th century, leading Noonans’s coin expert Bradley Hopper to hypothesize that the reason they were abandoned was due “some great personal misfortune” such as the death of their owner in the conflict. Hopper added, though, that “it was perhaps quite common for people who had access neither to banks nor vaults to conceal their wealth in the ground, even in times of peace.” All bar two of the coins were minted within five years of 1066.

A small selection of coins from the hoard were bought by Colchester Museum and the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, following the protocol of the 1996 Treasure Act. The purchased coins include two 11th-century Byzantine coins.

The metal detectorists found the majority of the coins in 2019 over the course of a few days, all within a 100-foot radius, some just inches beneath ground’s surface. A further 70 coins were found when the site was revisited in 2020. The coins were minted in various southern English towns and cities, including London, Cambridge, Canterbury, and Hastings.

The coins date from the reigns of Edward the Confessor and Harold II, the last two Anglo-Saxon kings of England. Harold was killed during the 1066 Battle of Hastings, seen on the Bayeux Tapestry receiving a fatal arrow through the eye. His death marked the victory of William the Conqueror, the first Norman king of England.

The detectorists have kept several coins, with 122 of the remaining relics headed to Noonans. The proceeds will be shared between the finders and the owner of the land on which the coins were discovered. Some coins included in the sale are exceedingly rare and could fetch £6,000 ($7,600) individually.

Hopper said that Noonans is “particularly fortunate that the auction catalogue contains not only the rarest and most academically interesting English coins from the Braintree Hoard, but also those pieces in the finest state of preservation.” He hopes that the auction will “promote further research into this wonderful coinage.”

By Verity Babbs.