#i just feel like there’s something so special and magical about it

[solxamber]

HEHEHGIGUGI ITS ME AGAIN THE SERAPHIM AND THE CAT ONE

Can i request a witch reader with Vil, Rook, Trey, and Malleus!! (I forgot if its 4 limits or 5, whoops but only that) You can write however you like if its headcannon or how you write it!! Also can you do it on Romantic shshsh‼️‼️🫶🫶

Rook, Trey, Malleus, Vil with a Witch! Reader

hi! thank you for waiting and i hope you like it <3 (also there aren't limits for number of characters)

Rook Hunt

Rook, a true romantic and ever-curious soul, is constantly mesmerized by your craft. He adores watching you work, fascinated by every detail, and often appears just as you’re about to cast a spell, like he knows exactly when something extraordinary is about to happen.

One evening, he surprises you mid-ritual, leaning in to whisper, “Ah, the witch at work, casting beauty into the world.”

“Rook!” you laugh, a little flustered. “Aren’t you supposed to give me space to concentrate?”

“On the contrary,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Watching you brings me closer to the divine. It’s as if each spell you cast is an invitation to witness your heart.”

As he speaks, he presses a kiss to your hand, his words a spell of their own. You find yourself captivated by the unique magic only Rook can create—a blend of curiosity, charm, and unshakable devotion.

Trey Clover

Trey is both grounded and warm, and he respects your magical abilities without a hint of fear. Whenever you experiment with potion-making, he’s your quiet supporter, ready with any ingredient you need.

One evening, you’re preparing a special love potion—just for fun—and Trey chuckles as you explain the recipe.

“What, you don’t believe in love potions?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I believe,” he replies, pulling a stray leaf from your hair, “but I don’t think you need one. You’ve already cast your spell on me.”

You feel your face heat up, but Trey simply smiles, his gaze gentle and warm. He reaches for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Let’s skip the potions,” he says softly. “You and I don’t need magic for this.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is captivated by your magic, drawn to you as if he’s known you for centuries. He’s endlessly curious about your spells, often standing nearby as you perform them, his eyes watching with reverence.

One misty evening, he finds you crafting a charm under the moonlight. As you finish, Malleus steps forward, his expression unusually soft. “Your magic… it has a warmth that even my fae spells lack.”

“You flatter me, Malleus,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I’m honored to have caught the attention of someone so powerful.”

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles with an old-world elegance. “Power means little to me if it cannot protect what is precious.” His gaze is intense, holding yours. “And you, my dear witch, are precious indeed.”

Under the stars, Malleus’s words hang in the air, leaving a warmth that feels like it could last an eternity.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil has always been enchanted by beauty in its many forms, but there's something about your magic that captivates him in a way he never expected. He watches you as you work, studying your movements as if each one were part of an intricate dance. One evening, he finds you under the warm glow of candlelight, carefully crafting an enchantment, your hands moving gracefully over the ingredients.

He steps closer, his voice smooth and gentle. “Do you realize the spell you’ve woven on me without even trying?” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile, slightly flustered but intrigued. “I could say the same about you, Vil.”

Vil reaches for your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Then perhaps I’ve found the magic that surpasses any potion, any spell.” His gaze is intense, unwavering, as if he’s seeing right through to your soul. “Stay close to me, won’t you?” he asks softly, the hint of vulnerability in his words surprising but endearing.

With a smile, you nod, finding comfort in his presence. Vil leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reverent. “You’re more captivating than any beauty I’ve ever known,” he whispers, his voice filled with a sincerity that leaves your heart racing.

In that quiet moment, it’s clear that he isn’t just drawn to your magic—he’s drawn to you.

Masterlist

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

Time for a long Aylin ramble, because I haven't indulged in a while.

I'm actually really invested in Aylin being an aasimar! I do not think it is a misnomer or mistake, as I've seen people suggest. She was referred to as a celestial explicitly in some older builds of the game, but this was changed at some point during development. And I noted aasimar enjoyer Oath, quelle surprise prefer it this way for a variety of reasons. Primarily, I think, because it lets her be larger than life, have a touch of that other-worldliness and otherness, while keeping her very much "of this world" still, very (physically and otherwise) present and part of the prime material plane, and ultimately far more human than I believe even she herself would sometimes like to be.

To bring up the most basic and rules/mechanics-bound "creature type" level of categorisation, as an aasimar she is a humanoid, and not a celestial - outsider. Her outsider status is absolutely there and a goldmine of things to explore, but that's a different post sitting in my drafts for far too long that I'll get around to one of these days (but for now you should read this post that I love). Yes, she is in a very real sense above it all, she will outlast everyone around her and whatever she gets involved with. We also get to see her dramatic poetic archaic speech idiosyncrasies (Ho!), her odd sense of the passage of time, and, of course, her oft-discussed and joked about apparent lack of filter or regard for current social graces.

(Endlessly amused at her just going: I'll do it when my mum tells me to.)

All things combined, Aylin feels more like a being of two worlds to me than a guest visiting this one, even as she is called the emissary of a goddess. She embodies a blending and an odd balancing act between the lofty divine and the mundane, duty and preordained purpose and personhood, and touches on the many ways this balance can be tipped. A classic D&D aasimar struggle, really, and a well I am happy to keep returning to.

Balthazar: She was a unique specimen even before I began my work. Aasimar. A god's blood united with mortal flesh.

She honestly isn't even that far from a regular aasimar stat- and ability-wise - Aylin does have several special abilities, but these are flavoured as blessings from her divine mother instead of an inherent property of her as a creature - though, notably, Aylin herself at one point claims she is always reborn because "it is [her] nature".

“Blessed with the favour of a goddess, Nightsong cannot be permanently killed. When unconscious, at the start of her turn she recovers 1 hit point.” “Nightsong will be resurrected by the powers of Selûne whenever she dies.”

Importantly, she does not get to reincarnate, or get a new body, or flit away to her "home plane" or anything like what celestials get to do. She is anchored to this one physical existence (again, very human of her), tied and limited to this one body as it painstakingly repairs itself over and over and over (to a sometimes extreme extent, e.g. the all but outright stated regrowing of amputated body parts in a frankly horrifying context), insistently and indomitably but ultimately imperfectly. And I think that's part of why the kintsugi design drives me utterly wild, why her immortality setup is more interesting to me than, say, a mutant healing factor, or something like the characters in The Old Guard. Her history is pretty literally engraved on her skin, and when she, in the role of a power-granting artefact and the object of a ritual sacrifice, tells you she will feel every wound you inflict upon her, it is so easy to believe her. And I'm not even that invested in physical suffering, just that it means it's all still very palpably there, forever, and she doesn't get to magically restart with a clean slate in this sense, nor does she get to forget past lifetimes as some creatures like devas do. It's just a flavour of immortality I personally find far more engaging than most.

(I mean, yes, I am also a known hurt/comfort sucker and if you're going there in order to set up a scene where she's, I dunno, getting doted on by Isobel who's invented new scar tissue pain relief massage techniques, you know I'm going to be all over that.)

I'm also not sure I'd say she can just pop over to Argentil to hang out with her mum at will. I mean, planeshifting is not that hard to achieve, and also she can just… ask Selûne, ultimately, I guess. But I wouldn't say she has spent much time there, and I think she takes her role as Selûne's champion and representative in the Realms too seriously and too much to heart to be away from them for very long.

Which also calls to mind the issue of the obvious and "simple" answer to Isobel's eventual death - namely that with Isobel picked up as a petitioner soul they'll all just go live out the better part of an eternity in Selûne's realm. Probably in some form they will - it's never guaranteed, but this time, yeah, probably something like that will happen, and there will be, as Melodia says, no loss, only temporary separation. But I'm really not into just handwaving or stripping away most of the mortal/immortal pairing issues inherent in the relationship. If we're going for the "hang out in a different plane of existence forever" option, I think at one point Aylin would have to "complete" her duties and lay down her sword, in a way, and pick between Faerûn and the Gates of the Moon - meaning she herself is effectively moving on to a completely new phase of her existence as well.

And while Selûne carving a lovely marble statue and bringing it to life and similar takes are fun and beautiful and interesting, I'm very invested in an Aylin who was born, raised, and had to actually grow up and learn and be trained. I have a ton of headcanons of Aylin being a weird glowy baby at some point (with all the Disney's Hercules jokes I've seen folks make, of course), being entrusted to a series of Selûnite enclaves and temples and cloisters, hounded by Shar and her agents pretty much all her life.

(Neither here nor there, but Aylin also comes off as a fairly "young" immortal to me - note that I am basing this on absolutely nothing but a general impression and there's no actual hint anywhere about how old she really is. Just vibes.)

To finish up, I'd like to shout out Isobel, and the big humanising factor she is presented as. For instance, a very concrete bit of motivation for Aylin to eventually "humanise" her perception of time, if nothing else.

Aylin without Isobel is horribly depressing to me mostly because she seems to distance herself from her humanity and err on the side of holy duty (see: her epilogue letter, ouch). And Isobel is definitely the person who (invaluably, imo) explicitly and consistently insists on Aylin's humanity and personhood, who cares for her as a woman and not a divine weapon, who actually treats her well-being as a priority, and who understands her so very well and so deeply. Who does acknowledge the gloriously resplendent Dame Aylin, daughter of the Moonmaiden herself in all her awe-inspiring presence and occasionally amusing foibles, but who never fails to look past the titles and fronts even Aylin herself is so keen to put up, and focus on what lies behind it all.

A moment that sticks out to me in particular is her bemoaning Aylin's disregard for her own safety, then actually getting very angry if you suggest Lorroakan can't hurt Aylin:

Isobel: Even after all she's been through, she thinks herself unstoppable - invincible. It all feels like recklessness to me. Player: Lorroakan can't harm her. Have faith. Isobel: He can harm her. Just as Ketheric did. She'll survive it, but she can suffer like any of us - and for longer.

Using Isobel's words verbatim is a good conclusion to my thoughts here, I think: the truth of Aylin being "singular among us all" coexisting with all the ways Aylin is "just like any of us".

And now I'll pay the cute Aylin screenshot tax one last time.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 21/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

Yeah, I don't even know y'all. Some people stress bake or stress clean, I stress-hammer out like 12k words in four days? Thank you to everyone who is following this :) I still love everyone in this bar!

“Hey Sally?” Evan very deliberately did not look up from the book he was looking through, staring at the brittle, yellowed pages as though they held the secrets of the universe instead of some faded illustrations of different types of protection runes,

Hmm? Sally replied, the lazy, half-asleep tone making Evan smile.

She had curled up right in front of the living room fireplace, having started a roaring fire pretty much the instant Evan’s parents had departed for dinner with a couple of Dad’s work colleagues. The fireplace was purely decorative…there wasn’t a flue, and usually the firebox contained only a set of decorative candles. Sally adored hearth fires, though, and took every opportunity to transfigure herself a fully functioning fireplace whenever his parents went out in the winter.

“You know that spell we were working on today?” he tried to keep his voice light, nonchalant. As though he just wanted to debrief on the lesson and get his familiar’s feedback, like he had a thousand times before.

He never had been able to fool Sally, though. He heard a faint rustle, and when he finally looked up from the page he had been staring at blindly for the last twenty minutes, Sally had gotten up from her indolent sprawl. Her tail curled neatly around her feet and she was watching him steadily, her mangled ear twitching back and forth.

Aye? Sally’s voice was the perfectly calm, steady tone she always took when she was about to have a serious conversation with him. Clinical, almost. He appreciated it���sometimes when he talked to his parents or others in his coven, he felt like he spent half the conversation trying to parse out how they really felt just through their tone. There was never any bullshit with Sally. No hidden agendas or meaning.

“You teach me a lot of things like that,” he started, frowning down at the pages of the huge book in his lap. It was some tome Sally had had his parents borrow special from a coven library in Philadelphia. The book was bound in calfskin, and its pages were thicker than he was used to…vellum, maybe. The ink had mostly faded to a rusty red and the spidery handwriting was hard to read.

I do, Sally acknowledged.

Evan licked his lips and finally set the book down carefully on the couch cushion beside him. “Why?” he asked, voicing the question that had been racing through his head in faster and faster circles this last week. Ever since…

You heard me arguing with your mother, didn’t you? Sally sighed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted quietly.

That had been happening a lot, lately. Especially on nights after his weekly call with Maddie. He was so worried about his sister—she sounded so tired when he talked to her these days, and he kept getting the feeling that she was holding something back. Trying to keep him from noticing something. He was so tempted to go up to the house she and Doug had bought right after their wedding; just show up unannounced and refuse to leave until she told him what had her sounding so sad whenever they talked. He just wasn’t sure how that would be received.

He hated that he no longer knew how Maddie would respond to something.

Regardless of how your parents feel about me or my lessons, they entrusted your training to me. Your mother may complain all she likes, but there is little she can do to me and she knows it.

“She said you’re training me like people are still trying to burn us at the stake,” he said, and Sally sighed.

Evan, she began. You are extremely powerful. And I would never have you be ashamed or fearful of your magic, but nor would I have you ignore the realities of it. The lessons I give you, the methods and spells that I teach you…yes, they were designed for times and situations that are long gone. But they are also spells that require more discipline. More deliberation. More control. You are quite strong, little love. But that means you must also be quite skilled.

Which was the line of reasoning that he’d heard Sally use when his mother started in on why she was teaching him such old-fashioned ways of casting, and adding spells that no one used to her regimens. It made sense. And Sally never lied to him. He didn’t even really have a suspicion that she was lying to him. But…

“You were scared,” he said finally. “When you said it wasn’t like I’d ever have to use the defensive magics you were teaching me. I could feel it.”

Emotions bleeding through the bond between a witch and their familiar was just a fact of life—but Sally was old enough and disciplined enough that he rarely picked up anything from her that she was not deliberately allowing him to sense. The spike of fear he’d felt from her during that argument, though…that had not been deliberate. Sally never let him feel it when she was worried or afraid.

Ah. Sally looked away from him, her golden eyes fixing on some point over his shoulder.

“I just—Sally, all these spells. And the practice. Does it…does it mean something?”

Divination has never been one of my talents, Evan, Sally said gently, cutting straight to the heart of the question Evan was too afraid to ask. She uncurled her tail from around her feet and leapt primly up onto the couch, staring at him until he sat back against the cushions so that she could climb onto his lap. His hand automatically drifted to the thick ruff of fur around her neck, scratching gently as she pushed her forehead against his, purring softly.

“You don’t have to have a full divination dream to know something’s coming,” he said. Reading the future wasn’t one of his talents, either. Divination magic had never run very strongly in the Buckley coven line. Still, he knew familiars all had at least a little instinct for it. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something deliberate in the lessons that Sally had been drilling him on for the past five years. Something beyond simply trying to teach him better control through more difficult spells.

Evan. I…it isn’t something specific. Only a sense. Neither stronger nor weaker than any such feeling I’ve had about dozens of my witches over the years. I’ve learned to listen to such senses when they come, but I do not feel the need to be ruled by them. Don’t read too much into it.

Evan swallowed, his hand stilling in Sally’s fur. “What is it?”

Sally closed her eyes briefly, sighing to herself. That I must do my best to make sure you can stand on your own. That if I love you—and oh, my boy, I do, I love you as my own, don’t ever doubt that—I must make you strong. Strong enough to thrive when others would see you wither. Strong enough to…endure.

“You make it sound like someone is coming to try and burn me at the stake,” he said shakily. Sally’s comforting purr ceased, and she sat back in his lap, reaching up with one paw to bat at his cheek.

If ever they do, I will make sure you know how to make them regret it, little love, she swore vehemently.

*

Evan held it together as he helped Tommy—and he was helping now, not mostly dragging, so hopefully that vampire regeneration was kicking in better now—out of Greenway’s house and onto the porch. He took a moment run back inside and grab the leatherbound book from where he’d dropped it on the floor when the explosion happened, shaking his head dizzily when he straightened again.

Pain throbbed dully behind his eyes, and he was still sweaty and panting, but he didn’t feel nearly as shaky as he was expecting to after using such intense magic. He was even able to slip himself and Tommy through the between and back into the car without much difficulty, though he had to take a moment to breathe through a flare of nausea once they were settled in the seats…him driving, of course.

“You gonna be able to manage?” Tommy asked urgently, reaching up like he was going to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder before he seemed to realize just how bloody it was. Not that it would have made much difference. Thank God Tommy had let him borrow a few changes of clothes, because what he was wearing now was just as ruined as the previous set he’d been wearing.

He’d feel a little guilty about it, but Tommy was basically holding his own liver in place while the hole in his torso healed, so he doubted his vampire would care much about ruined clothes. He took another deep breath, silently assessing.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah, I’m all right,” he said, and couldn’t keep the note of surprise out of his voice. He…he really did feel pretty good, all things considering. His head hurt, but it didn’t feel like someone was trying to explore his ocular cavity with an ice pick the way it usually did when he strained himself. His heart wasn’t pounding painfully in his chest, and best of all, his magic didn’t feel depleted yet.

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cast another control hex right now; probably wouldn’t be able to fire off more than a couple of weak fireballs. But he also didn’t feel like he was on the verge of passing out. It was strange…but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Are we going back to your house?” he asked as he accepted the bloody keys that Tommy dug out of his pocket with a slight grimace, wiping them on his pants leg before sticking them in the ignition.

“Not yet,” Tommy grunted. He looked down at his chest and probed at the wound, hissing out through his teeth. Pain had deepened the creases and lines on his handsome face, and he pressed his head back against the headrest as Evan drove, closing his eyes. “I want to go off-grid until this heals up.”

“How long is that gonna take?” Evan asked anxiously. He didn’t like the idea of Tommy being down for the count if they encountered anyone else on their tails, especially with his magic not at a hundred percent either.

He liked the idea of Tommy hurting even less.

“Few hours,” Tommy said, gritting his teeth as he reached around the seat and grabbed the hoodie he’d been going to use to cover himself as he ran for Greenway’s porch originally. He tore it into a couple of pieces and wadded one up, stuffing it against the wound in his chest with a grunt of pain. “Can you…” he started, leaning up a little and offering Evan the other part.

Realizing what his vampire wanted him to do, Evan took it without looking away from the road and quickly stuffed it against the entrance wound in Tommy’s back. “Uh, hate to tell you, but I don’t think the seats are salvageable at this point.”

Tommy huffed out a short laugh and immediately had to wipe the dribble of blood that spilled from his lips away. “I’ve been thinking about getting a truck for a while now, anyway. It’ll heal faster if I also don’t have to replace half my blood supply.” He was quiet a moment, and then said, “I’m going to need to hunt.” He sounded apologetic. “It’ll take hours to expel all the debris and close up the organ and muscle damage…bagged blood won’t cut it. I won’t—look, Evan, I won’t kill anyone. It’s been a long time since I killed anyone for blood. But yeah, I’m gonna need you to find a neighborhood where no one’s gonna mind anyone else’s business very hard. Once I get a couple of good drinks, we can grab some clean clothes, and—”

Evan saw an exit coming up on the highway. “Do you have any cash?” he interrupted. Tommy frowned, and then jerked his chin towards the glovebox.

“Few hundred in there. Why?”

Evan didn’t answer, instead taking the exit and following the signs past a few gas stations and fast food restaurants. Tommy watched him a moment, before leaning back against his seat again and closing his eyes, clearly trusting whatever Evan was planning to do. He frowned, though, when Evan pulled the car to a stop and he opened his eyes again to find that Evan had parked in front of a cheap-looking chain motel.

“Evan, whoa, we both look like we just we fucking murdered someone,” he said, his voice still rough and strained with pain.

“I got it,” Evan said quietly, before murmuring a simple spell—one most witches mastered by the time they were seven or eight years old. A brief rush of warm wind sprang up out of nowhere, swirling through the vehicle and around his body. The blood that had been drying into a tacky mess on his clothes, hands, and face dissolved into nothingness, and Evan was left just as clean as he’d been when they first arrived at Greenway’s house.

“That must save you a lot of money on laundry detergent,” Tommy said as Evan leaned over and opened the glovebox.

“It is nice not having to haul things down to a laundromat,” Evan agreed, digging around until he found a thick, manila envelope folded up under the car’s registration. He opened it to find several bundles of bills—small denominations and worn enough not to arouse suspicion—a leather wallet, and even a few passports from different countries. “This…seems a little paranoid,” he said, raising a questioning eyebrow at Tommy. His vampire shrugged one shoulder.

“It used to be important to be able to disappear…quickly. Supplies are different, but the habits haven’t changed.”

Sally used to talk like that. Evan nodded thoughtfully and counted out a couple hundred dollars in twenties and tens out of the stack of cash. “Be right back,” he said, and checked to make sure there was no one around who might see the absolute bloodbath the cabin of the vehicle had become before opening the door. He jogged across the parking lot and into the rundown lobby, where a bored-looking clerk sat behind the desk reading a celebrity magazine that looked to be about two years out of date.

“Hey, can I get a double for the night?” Evan asked, deliberately pulling out the stack of cash instead of his wallet. He knew how places like this worked—had taken advantage of them more times than he cared to count, especially in the first few months after he’d been banished.

“Gotta sign in,” the clerk said, completely ignoring the ancient computer next to him and shoving an old fashioned register across the counter. He did not ask for Evan’s ID. “All I’ve got left is a single, unless you wanna pay for a suite.”

Evan shot the clerk a deadpan look, well aware that ‘suite’ in a place like this just meant the hot water probably worked reliably and the carpet might get vacuumed more than once a month. “Single is fine,” he said, singing a completely random name on the register and counting out twenties on the counter until the clerk gave a satisfied grunt. It wasn’t like Tommy needed to sleep anyway.

The clerk handed an honest-to-God metal key dangling on a big plastic keychain over. “Room 106. Corner on the side facing the McDonald’s. Ice machine’s broken.”

“Shocking,” Evan said under his breath, but smiled politely when he took the key, making a mental note to check for bedbugs and be prepared to cast a more intense cleaning spell once he and Tommy got to the room.

That was less of a production than he was anticipating. The room was fortunately on the far corner of the motel, the cracked and weed-choked parking lot empty around them (right, only had a single available his ass) and the security cameras very obviously just for show. Evan cast a look-away charm over Tommy anyway, helping him into the room as quickly as possible and settling him down on the foot of the sagging bed.

The room was like every other no-tell motel room Evan had ever stayed in—dingy and smelling strongly of mildew. The only furniture was the aforementioned sagging bed—a full-sized mattress, at least, small mercies—a rickety table and chair, and a couple of nightstands on either side of the bed. Evan clicked the lamp sitting on one of them on and turned back to his vampire with a worried frown.

“All right,” Tommy said, grimacing as he plucked at the wadded up piece of sweatshirt still packed into the wound in his chest. Evan’s stomach turned a little at the sight of the bloodied hole—he hadn’t had time to examine it closely or even really think about what was happening until now. “As soon as the sun’s down, I’m going to head out and hunt…this should be mostly closed by then. We need to call Howie. And let’s look at the…fuck…” He broke off, hissing suddenly and hunching over.

“What?!” Evan demanded, stepping forward, his hand hovering uselessly over Tommy’s shoulder, afraid to touch him for fear of hurting him worse. Tommy shook his head.

“Debris. I think some splinters just punctured my liver again. God, I hate getting impaled.”

“That, uh, that happens a lot?” Evan’s mind was racing, his eyes glued to the way Tommy’s face was creased in pain.

“I feel like once is enough to decide getting impales sucks, but yeah…you live long enough, you get to experience the wide range of ways people can fuck each other up multiple times.” He sighed, cracking his neck back and forth a couple times in what Evan was coming to recognize was a nervous gesture. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Evan blinked, confused. He wasn’t the one currently rebuilding his chest cavity.

“Your magic—Evan, you can’t tell me that wasn’t a major spell. And everything else you’ve done…” Tommy trailed off again, the lines on his brow deepening. It was concern this time, though, not pain.

“I don’t…uh, I’m not—” Evan looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as he probed at the glow of magic in the back of his mind. He hadn’t taken the time to think things through at Greenway’s house. He had only reacted.

It was only after he’d dealt with the blond vampire that the thought of consequences had even occurred to him, and he’d waited for the effects of using so much magic to slam into him even as he concentrated on getting his vampire out of the house and into the car safely. That hadn’t happened, though. It still hadn’t happened. He didn’t exactly feel great…and he was definitely tapped out as far as major spells like the control hex and would be for a while. He was weakened far more than he would have been if he still had a coven bond to fall back on. But this didn’t feel any worse than a moderate hangover. He’d had worse headaches after some of Sally’s more intense training sessions.

“I’m okay,” he said finally, wonderingly.

Tommy narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he looked Evan up and down. “Are you sure?” he asked, doubt thick in his voice.

“I—yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” He couldn’t explain it…but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tommy stared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably before dropping down into the single chair by the round table that was the only other furniture in the room. The chair rattled ominously under his weight.

“I wasn’t just asking about your magic,” Tommy said quietly. “Are you okay?”

Evan froze, just blinking at his vampire stupidly a moment, before he let out a shuddering breath. How could…how could Tommy know… “I don’t feel guilty for what I did back there,” he admitted, his voice almost too quiet for his own ears. “I should, I know I should—”

“Absolutely not,” Tommy interrupted firmly. His words were still ragged, his voice tight with pain. But he stared at Evan steadily, nothing but absolute surety in his tone. “That was self-defense, Evan. Don’t think anything else. Those vampires would have killed me and taken you straight to Ortiz…you saved both our asses back there.”

Evan took a deep breath, looking down at his hands again. “I wanted to hurt them,” he said. “They…I never met any of the other witches Jo—Greenway was working with, but I, I, I know the reasons they must’ve had for going to him. And, and he killed them. Maybe he didn’t actually do it himself, but he let them die. He was going to let me die. And those vampires helped. I wanted them to hurt.”

He was angry. He was so incandescently angry at the people who were pulling on all the strings that had entangled him. Innocent witches had been killed, and for what? Politics? Because some vampire didn’t want to share power? Evan’s life hadn’t been that great, but it had been his. He’d been eking out a living, had almost made it to a point where he might have been able to start building something a little more permanent for himself, almost to the point where he might have been able to be…if not happy, at least content. And it had all been ripped away from him because of Ortiz, Greenway, and whoever else was working with them. Once again, he had a target on his back. Once again, he was being hunted for something he didn’t fucking do.

More than that, though…they could’ve killed Tommy right there. It was pure luck that the chunk of Greenway’s desk had missed his vampire’s heart. Tommy could have died right in front of him, and Evan was no longer startled by the wave of revulsion that washed through him at the thought, the way his magic stirred angrily at the back of his mind. He couldn’t let anything happen to Tommy; would not be able to bear it if anything happened to Tommy. He was done fighting the instinct.

“They deserved it,” Tommy said softly. Evan looked up at him, startled. “Don’t feel bad about wanting to hurt people who already hurt you. Who would’ve done worse if you’d let them. Would you have done that to them if they’d been willing to walk away and leave us alone?”

“What? No!” Evan sat up straight in the chair. “I’d never…that’s not what magic’s for!” I wouldn’t…”

It took him a moment to realize that Tommy had sat back slightly, and was just looking at him with an expression that made Evan’s stomach flip slightly. It was…soft. Softer than Evan thought he had seen his vampire’s face so far, a small smile on his lips that Evan could only describe as fond.

The effect was somewhat ruined by the blood that still smeared the corners of Tommy’s mouth, but it still made Evan fall silent.

“That’s why you shouldn’t feel guilty,” he said simply. “You’re a good man, Evan. But that doesn’t mean you can never show your teeth.”

How many times had Sally tried to drive the same sort of lesson home to him?

Before he could respond, though, Tommy shuddered, cursing to himself in a language that Evan couldn’t identify as he suddenly dropped the piece of sweatshirt he’d been holding against the wound in his chest. “Damn it, give me a minute,” he hissed, before he squared his shoulders and dug his fingers into the still gaping hole in his chest.

“Tommy!” Evan leaped to his feet, but Tommy just shook his head, rooting around in the meat of the wound, a grotesque, wet sound filling the room until he pulled what looked like a clump of bloody tissue from his chest. He held it up, and Evan realized with a flash of horrified disgust that it was another chunk of wood.

“Goddamn it,” Tommy groaned, dropping the bloody mess on the floor between his feet. “How much longer ‘til sunset?”

“Couple hours,” Evan said distractedly. He bit his lip, looking at his vampire—the tired slump of his shoulders, the lines of pain that creased his handsome face. Tommy was hurt…and until he healed more, he was in greater danger. They both were, really. And Tommy was going to have to go out to…to hunt. If he wasn’t going to kill anyone—and Evan believed him when he said it—he would have to be out longer.

Tommy was hurting.

“Would witch blood heal you faster?” he asked.

It was Tommy’s turn to freeze. He went still as a statue, his blue eyes boring into Evan’s before flicking down to his throat and back. “Evan,” he breathed out. “No. I’m not going to ask you to do that.”

Evan took that to mean that the answer was yes.

He swallowed, and again Tommy’s eyes zeroed in on the bob of his throat. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He stood up, and took a step towards his vampire, who still sat frozen, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Whatever spell held Tommy still shattered, and he shuddered again, though this time Evan didn’t think it had to do anything with the pain of his wound. He took a deep breath, as though scenting the air around Evan, his hand twitching upwards before curling into a fist and slamming back down on the bed.

“Are you sure?” Tommy said, his voice low and rough, almost a growl. Evan’s stomach flipped again, a shiver running through him that he wasn’t sure he was ready to examine too closely.

“You can do it without hurting me, right?” Evan asked, and now Tommy reached for him, pulling back with a grimace of distaste when he remembered the bloody mess he was.

“I’d never hurt you,” he said, a fervency curling through every word that made it sound like a promise. A vow.

Evan breathed out, his magic humming through him in wild approval. “Then let me help you,” he said.

Tommy’s eyes sheened over with scarlet light, before he visibly reined himself back in. He looked down at his bloody hands and held them up towards Evan almost beseechingly. “I—can you?”

With a small smile, Evan murmured the spell, his vampire’s hands whisking clean in a matter of seconds. Immediately, Tommy reached for him, curling one hand around Evan’s wrist, loosely at first and then tightening when Evan made no move to pull away. He tugged lightly, drawing Evan closer.

“How do you want to do this?” Evan asked, “Um, are you gonna—” He made a gesture towards his neck and was surprised when Tommy instantly shook his head.

“No. No, not there,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. His hand tightened on Evan’s wrist again, his thumb brushing gently over the pulsepoint. It was strange. He knew, intellectually, that Tommy could crush his wrist into powder with barely any effort…could throw him down and drain him dry, and Evan wasn’t sure if he’d be able to defend himself against it.

But Tommy wouldn’t do that to him. He knew it; down to the marrow of his bones he knew it.

Tommy would never hurt him.

He nodded his permission to Tommy’s unasked question. The red glow grew brighter in his vampire’s eyes, eclipsing the blue entirely, and when Tommy spoke again, Evan could see the hint of fangs in his mouth.

“Lie down. I won’t take much, I promise. But just in case.” Tommy let go of him, getting painfully to his feet so that they could trade places.

Evan grabbed the bloodstained comforter off the bed and tossed it to the floor. He was mildly surprised to see the sheets underneath appeared to have been laundered recently…at least there were no creepy-crawlies waiting for him. He kicked his shoes off and stretched out on the mattress, looking up when he heard Tommy swallow roughly.

“God, Evan,” Tommy murmured, so low Evan wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear it. “Thank you,” he said, louder, before slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Evan’s hip. “I—it won’t feel like it did at Gerrard’s party without the thrall,” he warned. “I could put you back under,” he offered uncertainly, but Evan could tell he didn’t really like the idea. Truthfully, Evan didn’t either, remembering the helpless way he’d rutted up against his vampire’s body under the effects of the thrall with a blush. He shook his head.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Just take what you need.” He offered his hand up, and had to look away when Tommy slowly took it, something disbelieving and tender in his red, red eyes.

“I can stop myself,” he promised. “If it starts to hurt too much, or you start to feel dizzy or sick, just tell me.”

“I trust you, Tommy,” Evan said, and knew in his heart that it was absolutely true.

Tommy closed his eyes and pulled Evan’s hand closer to his mouth, inhaling against the soft skin of his inner wrist with a quiet groan. “Evan,” he murmured, his name sounding like a fucking prayer in his vampire’s mouth.

Then Tommy bit down, sinking his fangs into Evan’s wrist.

[yaoireview]

review sockathan ! 👻👻👻

woah how'd you make that green

SOCKATHAN YAOI REVIEW

Disclaimer: This will contain spoilers (kind of) for Welcome to Hell 2 Part 1 and Welcome to Hell. You should probably go watch that. Its made by Erica Wester and its PRETTY cool.)

My Yaoi Entrepreneurs, I'll be blunt with you. I know we've ALL seen gay people, maybe in the streets, maybe at the park. You might even see one in your home now, so lets be honest with ourselves. Sock is DEFINITELY gay, bisexual at LEAST.

The OTHER one on the other hand.. its a little bit harder to say.. I'll probably find something though..

Lets make one thing clear, when I say Yaoi in this review. I don't mean ANYTHING inappropriate. Its just my special way of saying gay people.. I'm kinda magical in that sense.

Lets just get the first one done and over with a simple section I like to call:

EVIDENCE 1: SOCK IN GENERAL

okay so FIRST of all the FIRST time we see sock, they call Jonathan "hot stuff" while being in a fridge. I'm not sure about you but that's love if I ever saw it.

After that they introduce you to Sock killing his parents. One key point after another. If Sock being gay wasn't important, then WHY was it shown BEFORE telling us Sock's (other) main trait. Checkmate liberals.

Sock would then get the report from Mephistopheles, and you COULD say its just because the camera zoomed in, but its literally the most light ever seen in Sock's eyes.

And then Sock went on to ruin Jonathan's day, making him look crazy, and Jonathan SOMEHOW got blamed for knocking down that desk, I swear I think the teachers just hate him. I'm not sure about you but I certainly cant KNOCK over a desk thats right next to me.

He was WRITING too.. would a guilty man of desk flipping WRITE?? NO!!

And not to mention that Sock made Jonathan look DUMB in front of the faceless brothers which was probably the closest time that Sock did their job right.

Sock absolutely ruined it today.. but can you blame them? They're new to the job, give them some SLACK.

But the upcoming days, Sock was so whimsical.

Yeah SURE. Sock is still telling Jonathan to kill himself, but they just don't want to get fired!!

Not to mention the fact that they stared at Jonathan while they were taking a piss, but there's nothing odd about that.

And also near the end, Mephistopheles calls sock out on liking the guy, and Sock stutters. You just have to take my word for it.

SOCK IN GENERAL 2 [PART 1]

If you saw Welcome to Hell 2 [Part 1], you already know what I'm gonna comment about. Sock went on to call Jonathan's mother, hot. They then went on to say "Must be where you got it from, huh? You definitely got her butt at least."

When Jonathan goes on a walk and Sock follows them and says after Jonathan says he doesn't wanna be friends with them. (We'll get back to that)

"Oh wow, come to think of it, You don't really have ANYONE do YOU? What's that feel like? Knowing you're gonna die alone." to which Jonathan snaps back with "I dunno Sock, you tell me."

Now at first, this looks like a scene of ANTI SOCKATHAN propaganda, but think with me here, yaoiers. How would Jonathan know that Sock died alone??

I understand if he just guessed, since sock DOES look like someone who would die alone, or he just said whatever comeback that came to his head but if not, Sock ALREADY told Jonathan about their past life.

If what I KNOW is true, Sock VENTED to Jonathan about their life before they died in LESS than a week, since Sock just now sees Jonathan's mother in the first part, and due to a comment made by the creator.

Sock REALLY trusts this guy, maybe Mephistopheles didn't want to hear them vent, but maybe its JUST because Sock wanted Jonathan to do the same. but they probably didn't.

And then near the end, Sock says to Jonathan when he snatched his employee manual

"Jonathan, if something happens to you-"

Actually, I think this is pretty weak evidence but I thought I'd include it, since a teacher would say the same thing if a kindergartener was up on a high shelf.

That segment was PRETTY lengthy, but I PROMISE you, the others will be shorter, I just.. didn't expect there to be so much for Sock...

EVIDENCE 2: SOCK SUCKS AT THEIR JOB.

Jonathan was DEAD ON when they told Sock that they suck at their job. And quite honestly.. I could've done it better.. I could've got Jonathan to kill himself (theoretically) on the FIRST day, and if you wouldn't use my strategy, I promise you that there's probably several other you could use for the teenager that you want them to kill themselves at home.

STEP 1: GRAB A WEAPON

Since Sock is seen to be able to flip over a desk and they're able to HOLD Jonathan's journal (Shock or not), I should THEORITCALLY be able to grab a weapon, now for this strategy, I suggest you pick a nonlethal option, only to have a lethal option around, for this example, I will be using a sledgehammer.

After swinging that at the noggin, Jonathan would drop unconscious, probably with brain damage (that don't matter though)

STEP 2: POSSESS THE TEENAGER

Now it MAY not be like this in w2h, but Mephistopheles was able to possess Jonathan when he was DEAD (Probably), so It should hopefully work when they're out of consciousness.

STEP 3: KILL YOURSELF.

Alright now I KNOW that sounds bad.. but it wouldn't be MY hands to kill him. Grab the nearby lethal and SHOOT. THAT. TEENAGER!! Your boss may not agree with the logistics of this, but you get the job done.

This simulation was to PROVE that Sock atleast CARES a bit about Jonathan to want to get to know him. and to not kill him on the spot. Now if It was the other way around.. I'm not exactly sure..

EVIDENCE 3: JONATHAN KINDA HATES SOCK

(he looks like hes standing up to a school bully)

At the beginning of Welcome to Hell, hes clearly annoyed and STILL is annoyed by some of Sock's actions by the end, but he atleast isn't mad enough to NOT act like he could put up with Sock. I think the closest thing to gayness from Jonathan was when he moved the backpack for Sock to sit down.

In Welcome to Hell 2, he IS PISSED at this guy, and honestly, if Sock kept on knocking down those desks, i CANT blame him..

Maybe Sock kinda ruined the vibe when they expressed their love for Jonathan's mother, its hard to say really..

Jonathan makes this very clear that he DOESN'T even wanna be Sock's friend, I mean HAVE YOU HEARD THE THEME SONG?

SUMMARY:

Sock wasn't able to win Jonathan's heart, making him tonight's biggest loser.

YAOI: 6.5/10

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

Unsleeping City Quotes I Like

“Magic is Real and you get to see it. Isn’t that great?” -Misty Moore

“Sometimes you gotta do the nice thing, not the right thing” -Kingston Brown

“You know, just kind of when you’re already in a shame spiral and then people are good to you, it almost stings a little bit worse.” -Pete Conlan

“Things are not always what you want them to be, and they’re not always what you dream they are. Things are what they are.” -Jackson Wei 

“It does not diminish a soul to give worship or adoration”-Nod

“Being the founder is not the same as being a leader” -Nod

“You’re not done yet kid. Come on. We got work to do” -Kingston Brown

“You’d have to be a real asshole not to recognize when someone is trying to not be a piece of shit in general. And I don’t know that we’re good, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not good. And… I guess you’re worth helping.” -David Kugrich

“Because honestly if you don’t show up now, there might not be anyone to fuckin’ choose ever again. So then you’ll have had this little gift you could have given to someone, this little ‘choosing’ you could have done, and you will never do it to anyone. It’s like letting food go bad, I hate when people let food go bad.” -Sofia Lee

“The true spirit of this place is to meet dreams with concrete. To hustle in the muck and the grime, and to grind away to make something miraculous happen, and that the spirit of this place is that these people make it happen for themselves.”-Brennan Lee Mulligan about NYC

“There is nothing more in the spirit of this place than to rely on nobody but yourself to decide that you will be chosen.” -Brennan Lee Mulligan about Sofia Lee

“You want to be someone’s everything, and you’re everybody’s everything. Made it real hard to feel special.” -Liz Herrera 

“I can’t visit everybody. That’s also because not everybody is worth visiting.” -Kingston Brown

“Just because I have to be something for everybody doesn’t mean I can’t be something more for you.” -Kingston Brown

“If somebody would fuckin’ teach me how to do magic, I’d come help you whoop ass. I’m from the fuckin’ Bronx” -Liz Hererra

“I can’t have what you’re offering me, and that’s my fault. But American Dreams change.” -Kugrash

“My Love. For you are my love. My one true love. You don’t need to enter, for you’re already there. And you don’t need to be real because you already are real.” -Rowan Berry to the American Dream

“Dreams changing with the minds of their dreamers, is the most beautiful aspect of dreams. When you look to see the true form of this, what you see is that a dream this important and this large needs to be able to change. And its true form, is any and every form that people want from it. And if it is pushed back through the golden door, into the realm where it can have any form that people give to it, that is where it will have its true form. So the answer to your Nat 20 is that the only good form for a dream is formless.” -Brennan Lee Mulligan about the American Dream

“It is what it is”-Dale “And what it is, is anything”-Nod

“Greed is good, for rat motherfuckers like Robert Moses. But not in our town, not in our fucking city!” -Kugrash

“Pain is a part of healing. And the things we’ve lost should hurt. But it does not mean that we are defeated or they will hurt forever.” -Em from Bethesda Fountain

“These sacrifices are never made in vain. All these people, their lives are our lives, and ours are theirs. All intertwined together. I think that’s kinda beautiful.” -Em

“It’s not really what happens, but it’s your reaction to it and how you feel, that’s what you should pay attention to.” -Pete Conlan

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who spends summer days at a lake with you. the tranquility of nature was enough to make Taehyung feel completely relaxed. adding you as company only improved his entire experience. when the days started to get longer and the heat was suffocating, Taehyung would always ask if you wanted to forget the world. “let’s run away,” he used to say. “let’s run away and forget all our responsibilities. just me and you. away from everything that holds us back and hurts us.” and you accepted, you always accepted. partly, you accepted it because you knew it would make Taehyung happy – that was what you had agreed upon; but there was also a part of you that accepted it because you knew that those days, away from everything that distressed and hurt you, were the closest you would get to heaven.

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who takes you to balls all over the world. Taehyung was a devoted fan of that mystical magic that surrounds fairy tales. there was something in that divine hope that held Taehyung and made him want to dream. as such, he just wanted to try to recreate the enchantment he felt whenever he heard or read a more fanciful story – and the best way to reproduce all that magic was by going to small, beautiful dances. Taehyung didn’t care about dates or places or themes – it was all irrelevant. all he wanted was to know what time he should pick you up so you could spend an endless night in each other’s arms. of course, having already experienced a considerable number of dances Taehyung had a favorite: on the warmest spring nights, when the birds began to learn the symphony of joy and all the stars created sketches of enchanted stories, Taehyung liked giving himself to you. always keeping you close to him, holding your waist as if the secrets of the cosmos were in his hands, looking at you with the radiance stolen from the most romantic gods, Taehyung liked those spring dances, for it was in them that all the celestial magic covered you in a tenuous cloak of dreams. “there will be a masquerade ball this summer. do you want to go with me? we can have clothes made to match your favorite color.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who asks you to sleep there more often than he should. yes, Taehyung knew you had a meeting early tomorrow. he also knew that all your clothes were in your house. and yes, it was obvious he knew you couldn’t sleep comfortably without your pillow. but, did you know? did you know how much your presence calmed Taehyung? did you know how your words were the only ones that could lull Taehyung into a deep sleep? did you know that without you Taehyung simply couldn’t have a good night? so if you knew, why don’t you just stay there with him? in his bed? being wrapped in his nervous arms as he whispered to you how grateful he was that you made this effort for him – why did you want to abandon him? “just tonight, please. i’ll take you to work tomorrow and you can sleep with me a little longer. it won’t do you any harm. you know how much i enjoy being here with you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who can get you into any event. Taehyung didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘impossible’ when it was about you. you were a special person, someone who had a certain charm and was capable of molding the entire universe in your image if you wanted it – Taehyung just had to pamper you. you being the owner of all the celestial dust that enchanted the world and made Taehyung a real person, only made he use his influence as his thanks. fashion shows, autograph sessions, gallery openings, anything you wanted – Taehyung knew you better than anyone, he knew where you liked to go, what you liked to do. always accompanying you, getting lost in your wide smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you saw something you really liked, Taehyung took you to experience the world; there was no experience that left you curious, there was nothing forbidden for you. everything you wanted was yours long before you asked for it. “don’t hide anything from me. all i want is to keep you happy in this relationship. and if i have the possibility of increasing this happiness, just tell me. it’s everything to me. you are everything to me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who gives you a black card to spend on your birthday. on every birthday of yours you woke up with a bouquet of flowers and an envelope addressed to you – Taehyung did everything he could to make sure the first thing you saw on your birthday was that little gift from him, so you could try to understand how much you meant to him. the flowers you received were always the same, your favorites in your favorite colors, wrapped in paper sprayed with Taehyung’s perfume; the envelope, however, the envelope was the real gift. a small, white card came signed in Taehyung’s handwriting and next to it was Taehyung’s black card. on that day of yours, not as different as the others, but more special to you, Taehyung would give you the opportunity to go shopping alone or with your friends and spend as much as you could. it was always the same gift, always the same card, always the same ritual – but for you, it was everything. “happy birthday, darling. have fun during the day, and don’t forget that this night you are mine. xx”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who likes it when you wear the clothes and jewelry he gave you when you’re not with him. Taehyung liked to give you gifts; it was always charming to see your curious eyes opening the bags or boxes, your smile painting Taehyung’s dreams. as such, Taehyung offered you everything: shoes, coats, necklaces, even the groceries for your home – anything that could be bought could very well be offered to you. but of everything he gives you, of seeing you happy with so many things, he would have to confess that when you went out to have fun or relax and use something he offered, Taehyung’s heart smiled a little more. it may seem strange, maybe even childish, but when Taehyung knew that you were walking around the city showing off the clothes and necklaces he had given you at the beginning of your relationship, he felt closer to you, you felt closer to him. seeing you in those clothes when you didn’t have anything planned with him made Taehyung believe that your relationship could very well turn out to be something more. “i saw your instagram story and i just want to say i’m glad you’re still wearing those boots. they look good on you. you look good with everything, but yea. i called just to tell you that.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who kisses you under the eiffel tower. on your longer trips, when neither of you needed to worry about dates and deadlines, Taehyung liked to take you to Paris. it was in the magic of that city that Taehyung hoped your love would blossom. it was in the beauty of that city that Taehyung fell even more in love with you. and it was in the hope of that city that Taehyung declared himself to you again and again and again. under the stars, in the endless nights of aimless stars, Taehyung kissed you. once. and another. and another. and another. he didn’t need to say anything, there was no need for that – Taehyung just had to gently hold your waist for you to understand what he wanted, what he would do. they were tender kisses that covered your heart with security and comfort, small confessions of love that would forever remain embedded in your soul. and only this magic happened in Paris – until he finds the courage to recreate it at home.

[galaxysupreme17]

Dreamcatcher Crafting Night

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader!

Y/n’s restless nights had been following her for over a week now. She brushed off the worry when her mothers asked about her sleep, saying it was nothing. But the truth was that something dark seemed to lurk just beyond her reach, pulling her from sleep repeatedly. So tonight, when she shuffled into the living room with another yawn, she wasn’t surprised to see her moms exchanging concerned glances over her tired face.

“Couldn’t sleep again, sweet girl?” Agatha asked softly, her eyes filled with understanding as she wrapped an arm around Y/n’s shoulders.

Y/n leaned into her mother’s warmth, nodding. “It’s just…every time I close my eyes, it’s like there’s something there. Like I can’t shake it off.”

Rio’s brow furrowed as she brushed a gentle hand along Y/n’s arm. “Then we’re going to help you. Together.”

Agatha’s eyes lit up as an idea formed. “How about a little crafting session?” she said warmly. “We’ll make some dreamcatchers and fill them with some magic.”

Y/n’s eyes brightened with curiosity. “Dreamcatchers? I haven’t made one since I was little.”

“Not just any dreamcatchers,” Agatha replied with a wink. “We’ll add protective spells. It’ll be something special, just for you.”

Rio smiled and stood up, heading toward the storage closet. “I think I have the perfect materials in here,” she said, gathering an assortment of hoops, threads, beads, and feathers from the shelves. The supplies, organized in neat rows, felt like they were waiting for this very night. She placed them all on the coffee table, which quickly transformed into a crafting station under the cozy glow of the living room lights.

As they started, Agatha sat beside Y/n, gently guiding her daughter’s hands through the steps of creating the dreamcatcher’s web. “Start with the hoop and thread,” she said softly, looping the thread through the frame with expert hands. “Each knot you make is a promise of peace. Every thread connects to the next, like a spider’s web. Imagine it catching anything harmful before it can reach you.”

Y/n looped the thread carefully through the hoop, her brow furrowing in concentration as she tied the first knot. Agatha watched with a warm smile, occasionally reaching over to adjust a thread here or there, blessing each movement with quiet words of protection.

Rio picked up the delicate feathers and beads as they worked, adding them to the dreamcatcher with a practiced touch. She threaded in a small blue feather, tying it gently in place as she murmured, “Feathers to guide good dreams toward you, mi amor.”

The rhythmic act of crafting filled Y/n with a quiet peace. Each gentle instruction from her mothers and each touch of their hands reassured her. Little by little, the feeling of safety settled into her, filling her heart with warmth.

After a moment, Rio carefully added a silver moon charm to the hoop, brushing her thumb over it before passing it to Y/n. “This will help light up the darkness,” she whispered, placing it in her daughter’s hand. “Just remember that nothing can reach you here. We’re here to protect you.”

Y/n nodded, watching Agatha reach for a tiny crystal that glowed faintly in the soft light. “And this little one,” Agatha murmured, threading it into the web, “will catch anything that doesn’t belong and send it right back where it came from. A little ward, just for you.”

Feeling their shared care in every twist of thread and every added charm, Y/n’s heart filled with gratitude. The simplicity of creating something so meaningful together was a quiet, grounding reminder that she was loved and protected.

When the dreamcatchers were finally finished, Rio held one up, inspecting it with a proud smile. “Perfect, cariño,” she said, brushing a hand along Y/n’s cheek. “You made something beautiful, and it’ll protect you. Nothing will get through this.”

Y/n smiled, admiring the intricate design of her own handiwork, guided and shaped by her mother’s care. Y/n walked back upstairs to her room, and both her mothers followed after they cleaned everything up. Y/n carefully hung it above her bed, watching the delicate feathers and beads sway softly in the dim light.

After it was set, Agatha and Rio stayed close by her side, watching her settle under the covers. Y/n felt a warmth spread through her as she lay back, watching the dreamcatcher cast faint shadows on the walls. Agatha sat beside her, smoothing her hair back, her eyes warm with love. “Just close your eyes, sweet girl. Nothing will hurt you,” she murmured, her voice like a lullaby.

Rio sat on the other side, taking Y/n’s hand in hers, her thumb rubbing gentle circles over her knuckles. “We’re right here, my love,” she said, her words soft but steady. “Just let yourself rest.”

Y/n’s heart settled into a gentle rhythm as she closed her eyes, surrounded by the gentle presence of both her mothers. She felt Agatha’s hand gently brushing through her hair as Rio leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her head, grounding her in their warmth. With each soft word of reassurance, the tension in her body finally melted away.

Gradually, Y/n’s breathing evened out as sleep pulled her in. But her mothers stayed by her side, watching over her with tender patience until they drifted off. Eventually, Rio and Agatha lay on either side of Y/n, their hands intertwined across her, forming a shield of warmth and love.

The dreamcatcher above them swayed softly in the dark, casting its gentle, protective spell over the family. For the first time in weeks, Y/n’s dreams were filled with nothing but light and warmth, and her heart rested, deeply and fully, in the safe haven created by her mother’s love.

[styxbugg]

the fraggle rock wrap party song always makes me feel so many things, especially this one specific part:

“We’ll work together some tomorrow. / We’ll be together once again. / Don’t ask us how, but we’ll achieve it, believe it, / We’ll be back, we’ll be new, we’ll be the same.”

and what i love is, with the context of the reboot, all of that is true!

we’ll be back: they did come back with the ‘back to the rock’

we’ll be new: the whole reboot is revamped with better graphics and effects, and some new performers

we’ll be the same: the reboot holds the same heart that the original has (feeling kind of more like a continuation than a reboot, to me at least) with some of the same performers as well

and just the fact that they made these promises, then about 35 years later they came true? it just feels so special

also i cried when i first listened to this song. so.

[daftpatience]

finally sending my busted old montblanc in for repairs after sitting on it for over a decade everyone wish me a not too expensive quote

[galactic-glamour-girl-posts]

The Warners' Surprisingly Fitting Concerns

You know, I never gave it much thought (outside of this dumb joke) but each Warner's verse in "We Could Try to Do It, Santa" fits their personality pretty well and is about the thing they'd naturally be the most concerned about in that situation.

Yakko's Verse:

At first his verse is about how they can't deliver the presents without Santa's magic and how they'd have to upgrade Santa's sleigh so it can fly fast enough to travel the world in one night, but then it's revealed his true major concern is how that would result in the reindeer getting hurt:

"Prancer and the others might burn up if we're that fast"

"And a sonic boom would work its way through Dasher, Donner, Dancer,

Soon engulfing Cupid, Comet; Santa, this can't be the answer!

See the last thing that we'd wanna do is make the reindeer yelp!"

As a protective older sibling, naturally Yakko would assume Santa of all people would want to protect the reindeer given that they are under his care, like how Yakko tries to protect his sibs. I think the switch up in the verse's focus also reflects how although Yakko's snarky yet jovial nature means he's not quick to be emotionally open and often hides or undercuts his sincerity with snark or humour; he still clearly deeply cares for his sibs and that will eventually show.

Wakko's Verse:

Well Wakko's verse is unsurprisingly about food, but I also wanna point out how it easily has the most extreme consequences of the three, given that the whole of Earth shatters.

This reflects how Wakko tends to go to extremes the most out of the Warners. Need to do a gag about having eyes at the back your head? Wakko will have nine rather than just two. The Warners are bouncing on springs during an earthquake? Wakko's bouncing on a spring upside down, etc.

The little guy loves being extra.

Dot's Verse:

Dot suggests spying on people in her verse. Dot specifically would be the Warner to sing about this when you remember her whole schtick is acting cute and innocent, but being way tougher, craftier and more violent than she appears.

She more than anyone would know that there's often more to people than meets the eye, and hence would be the one to point out the need for wiretaps, logs of web searches, etc. until they had a "constant feed of every single child on Earth" if they wanted to know what the each child in the world was truly like.

[rings-of-power-realm]

Literally crying (the good kind) after watching that trailer for like the fifth time today and I'm just so overwhelmed because this show Middle Earth and everyone in it is so important to me and these trailers have been so epic and beautiful full of emotion and light and dark and everything I love from Tolkien and LOTR films (since the trilogy was how I first got into Middle Earth) and I never thought I'd see something that would compare to LOTR Trilogy but The Rings of Power truly does. I care so much about these characters just like I do Frodo and Sam and Aragorn and Eowyn etc.

And it also makes me emotional hearing Bears beautiful rousing score once again he is gonna knock it out of the park. Im crying at Celebrimbor at Elronds desperate fight to save the world and people he loves at Galadriel and the huge weight she carries. I am so invested in them all.

It looks phenomenal from the music and costumes to the dialogue and set pieces this world is real they have made magic and it deserves so much appreciation so much love because I can see that it is made with heart and soul and is a story for all time, one that I am so grateful to hold so close.

[musubiki]

lately ive been thinking about the contrast going on in Early Lime where hes like "tbh im pretty sure i could have any girl i wanted including mochi i mean i guess if she wanted we could give it a shot one day but i dont really care lol" and then very easily becoming completely unhinged for her the second he gets a tinge of romantic affection

[paronymph]

they should create a new word for yearning specifically about aros and/or aces yearning because there is nothing that exists that comes close to expressing what we feel.

[innytoes]

My roommate is sick and all they could talk about was how much they miss that one soup you always made them so I drove four hours to come and get some + OT3 of your choosing

When Ray opened the door at 11PM on a Thursday night, he was a little surprised.

"Hi, Mister Molina?" the young man said, fidgeting his fingers together. "We spoke on the phone?"

Because yes, he had spoken with Julie's boyfriend on the phone. It was just that he was pretty sure Julie's boyfriend was Luke. He had been since they got together in high school. She'd been so excited to join Luke to get her music degree at the same top-notch university. (And yes, they had a long conversation about picking the best university for her, not just the one her boyfriend was at.)

But this young man was not Luke. He'd thought he sounded different on the phone, and strangely formal, but he thought it was just because they hadn't spoken as much since Luke went away to school.

His poor little nena, first she broke up with her high school sweetheart and now she had the flu? Why hadn't she told them about Luke? Was she worried they'd be disappointed?

"Yes, of course, come in," he said, waving the boy inside. He had messy hair, ripped jeans and a leather jacket, but Ray knew that looks didn't say anything. Any boy who was willing to drive four hours just to pick up soup for his sick girlfriend had to be a good egg.

"The soup is just about done, Rose was just letting it simmer until you got here," he explained as he lead him to the kitchen. The way the young man was trying to subtly sniff the air was rather endearing. "Would you like to try some?"

"Oh, I couldn't," the boy said, but he looked longingly at the big pot simmering on the stove. "It's Julie's soup."

"There's more than enough," Rose said, already grabbing a bowl and ladling some soup into it. If she was surprised at this Not Luke Boyfriend, she didn't show it. Behind the boy's back, he made a confused shrugging motion at his wife, and she just quirked an eyebrow at him. I don't know what's going on either, it said.

"Oh, well, if it's no trouble," the young man said, all but collapsing into one of the stools at the kitchen island. Rose handed him the bowl and a spoon, and when he took a deep whiff, his eyes fell closed in what appeared to be bliss. When he took a bite, he actually whimpered a little. When was the last time this poor kid had some homemade food? Ray remembered his own college years, and if he were to guess, that boy lived off ramen and grilled cheeses.

"This is really good, Mrs Molina," the boy said earnestly in between big bites. "No wonder Julie was craving it. This would make anyone feel better."

"How is she?" Rose asked.

"She was feeling pretty crummy when I left," the boy said. "But her fever was down and she was craving food again, so that's a good sign." He looked up, concerned. "I didn't just leave her alone! Luke's with her, and Alex and Willie are on standby to drive them to the emergency room if either of their fevers spike."

So Luke was still with her? Was the break-up amicable?

"I just felt so bad, I mean, I was the one who got sick first, and then I gave it to Luke, and Luke gave it to Julie, and they were both so miserable, and when she said she wanted her Mami's special soup I just thought, if that would make her feel better..." He trailed off when he realised he was rambling, flushing.

"You were sick too?" Rose asked, concerned. "You poor thing."

"I'm fine now," the boy reassured her, even though on closer inspection, he did still look kind of exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, and the way he was slumped over the bowl of soup told Ray he wasn't exactly fit as a fiddle yet. Maybe the soup would help, though. "And I can be out of your hair as soon as we pack the soup up. I'm so sorry to spring this on you."

"Anything for our Julie," Ray said, and the boy whirled around, eyes wide, like he'd forgotten Ray was there. Yeah, definitely not one hundred per cent yet. "You look tired, though. Are you sure you're okay to drive all the way back?"

"Yeah, totally," the boy said, before knocking back the last of the soup, holding the bowl up to his face to get it all. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not," Rose insisted. "And Ray's right, you look tired. If you just got over the flu yourself, you shouldn't be driving eight hours straight. Why don't you go take a nap for a few hours?"

"But Julie..."

"Won't want to be woken up at three in the morning anyway," Rose pointed out. The boy's face turned into a thoughtful pout. "Just sleep for a few hours, and you can get up bright and early tomorrow and bring her the soup. It'll do none of you any good if you fall asleep behind the wheel."

"I guess," he finally acquiesced.

"Great!" Rose said, beaming. "Do you want some more soup?"

Of course he did, and she gave him another bowl, sending Ray upstairs to prep the guest room and find Reggie something he could sleep in. Ray just let it happen. He knew better than to get in Rose's way when she'd made up her mind, and just watched on in amusement as she ushered a confused young punk in a leather jackets up the stairs and off to bed.

When she came back down, Ray had finished putting most of the soup into tupperware (and maybe stealing a few bites for himself. It was really good soup).

"Julie never told me she and Luke broke up," he said. "Had she told you?"

"No," Rose said, thoughtfully, even as she wrapped herself around him, on her toes so she could hook her chin over his shoulder. "Maybe they haven't."

Ray turned as far as he could, catching a glimpse of her face.

"Reggie said he gave his flu to Luke," Rose pointed out. "And on the phone he said he was Julie's boyfriend. I think they're both dating him."

Oh, so his name was Reggie? That was good to know. Ray tried to wrap his head around it. He was just glad his daughter hadn't gotten her heart broken.

"He seems like a good kid," he said finally. "Driving all this way just to get Julie's comfort food."

Rose hummed in agreement. "Well," she said. "We'll have plenty of time to get to know him tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He would have thought Reggie would be anxious to get back home to his... partners, he guessed.

"Well, of course we're driving him back!" Rose said. "He's in no shape to drive!"

And Ray just nodded, and smiled, because when Rose made up her mind, it was best to just go along with it.

[yonpote]

my actual fav thing from the "dan and phil finally tell the truth video" was the dan hates animal crossing part. esp where dan's like "AND I WILL PLAY THE NEXT GAME AND I'LL MAKE TWO FUCKIN TWEETS ABOUT IT AND GET THAT ENGAGEMENT" like. that was more truthful than anything else they said LMAO like as someone who's been playing new horizons daily honestly i kinda hate the decorating aspect it gets way too stressful for me and as opposed to the sims you can't customize your island in like its own menu (except for in the dlc! but not on your own dang island!!!) so it's way more annoying to plan out unless you wanna like keep changing the time on your switch and sure its not actually that complicated to do but it is time consuming and i burn out and basically i get it i have adhd too

[returnsandreturns]

i feel like i've been kind of spoiled by how nice people are to me online but i can now add my voice to the fact that leaving casual criticism in the bookmarks on ao3 is kinda a huge bummer

also maybe the person i encountered is unique but do people bookmark fics they clearly don't like? what is happening there. why is happening there.