#of magic in it. maybe its the crystals? but its not particularly the crystals and she cant lay her wand on it until

[honey-pages]

Learn your Lesson - Viktor x Reader

Description -

After an intense lecture, Viktor invites you to his study where he ensures you learn your lesson.

2.7k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. NSFW. Sex. Teacher/Student. Riding.

@kskajjwiqqj

Viktor was nothing like the other professors that you had met. He was younger, known by his first name, and was quite clearly very attractive. You had been invited along to a skills class with the rest of your department and any interested outliers. Viktor was the reason you attended. You aspired to impress him, to become his student. There were always rumours circulating, however with Viktor, the only thing you had heard was how impenetrably private he was.

His back was to you as he wrote on the board in chalk. It was strange seeing someone in the position he was at such a comparable age to yourself. You did not even want to consider how old professor Heimerdinger was. The way he looked standing there authoritatively in his everyday suit was immaculate. It was taking your attention away from his teaching.

“The principles of Hextech's functions are fundamentally rooted in our understanding of magic's interactions with our reality. The volatile nature of unrefined hex crystals stems from this. Magic in and of itself cannot be quantified with precision, only comparatively by constants. “

He was presenting half to himself as the majority of the room looked out of their depth. He stopped asking call and response questions a while ago as he had no responses. Now he was picking on people.

“So, why is it an impossibility for magic to be married to our understanding of, say, gravity? “

No one makes to answer the question. You wait for a few seconds as he looks quite disheartened. He sweeps over the room. Silence. He locks eyes with you. The questions weren’t essentially that difficult, they were just to register attention. Most of the things he asked were things he had previously mentioned or things that were graspable by taking the things he had taught and applying its logic.

You put forward an answer, “It is impossible to apply something which lacks numerical quantification to a concept as characterised by numbers as gravity. You'd end up with too many unknowns. The best you could manage is to average those constants, which is not precise enough when working with hextech “

“Close! It is certainly a challenge, although not impossible, to determine properties of a gravity field under magical influence, in precisely the manner you have described. However, more fundamentally, the issue lies in the fact that the gravitational constant is a dimensional property defined by distance and mass, while any magical constant lacks such constraints. But very very good thoughts Miss (Y/N).”

He knew your name. As he responded to you, he did a double take, watching you. You caught him scanning your whole person, losing his train of thought for a second. He smirks before catching the thought he had just lost. It was quite noticeable, the effect you had just had over him, and you were almost certain that it wasn’t just because you were the only one answering questions. Maybe the times you had thought he was being personable were something more?

He was finishing up his teaching, but still whenever he referenced something you had put forward or said something particularly related to your thoughts, he looked at you.

“We've discussed today a number of approaches to applying magical principles in our limited understanding of physical laws. The crux of what makes this application an impossibility is as follows: A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property. “

He addresses you, “With all the answers you have given, Miss (Y/N), I perhaps should invite you to speak with me privately afterwards.”

As he calls over to you, you realise the invitation he has just extended to you may not be one of a regular professor. Students are beginning to pack up and filter out of the hall, noise levels rise. Your seat on the first row, closest to Viktor, enables you to be one of the first out of your seat. Your courage feels disembodied and far from you now as you face him without the defence of the group setting.

“I’d like that. When are you free?” You ask, smiling and holding his gaze. It feels more difficult at close distance to deal with his focus, like the sun being beamed through a magnifying glass.

“Come to my study.” He suggests.

He collects his jacket from the back of the chair, folding up papers and books from the lectern and placing them into his bag. He holds back a little longer, waiting for the last of the students to have left the theatre. The room feels much smaller now you are alone together.

“I am serious about your potential, Miss (Y/N). I think with some support you could do great things.”

You flatter, “If I had a teacher such as yourself Viktor, I would already be doing great things.”

“You look beautiful today.”

You fluster, it was unexpected. You stumble.

“Flattery doesn’t work on either of us.”

“I’m serious Viktor, take me on as your student.”

He pauses.

“What was my final point in today’s lecture Miss (Y/N).”

Your mind was blank. Not strictly due to a lack of memory, focus or attention as you can guarantee to certainty that your attention was on Viktor, but due to how completely attracted you are to him. As time passes, his gaze becomes more confident. He knows he has you where he wants you.

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property.” He reiterates. “It is no issue that you have forgotten. I have identified exactly where to begin tonight’s lesson.”

You walk with Viktor through the corridors and leading passages to his study. It is an interesting place in an interesting building. It is decorated beautifully, with full bookcases and large empty boards scrawled with workings. It is a small place that looks well used and lived in, as though it were an external reflection of his internal musings.

“Make yourself at home.” He insists.

You place down your belongings in one corner, neatly out of the way of any space Viktor might need. He sits down in a chair in the corner opposite to the one you stand in, and ushers you to sit in the respective seat. Although you are diagonally placed, the smallness of the room almost presses the caps of your knees together. It is cosy and feels like a special place to be invited to.

“I do not usually invite people here, even if they are prospective students.”

You smile, not knowing quite what to reply to show gratitude, humility and not betray the all-consuming attraction you have towards him. Ever since he said you looked beautiful, any hextech knowledge you may have unlocked had been jumbled and rearranged to make some sexual collage.

“I meant it” He states.

“What?”

“You look beautiful today”

You try to play it off cooly how much that compliment meant to you. “I thought we had agreed not to flatter.”

“I wanted to be clear. I didn’t just say it because I wanted to compliment you. I said it because I meant it (Y/N).”

You freeze up again. Your pulse began to be audible through your ears and your blood ran hot.

“You look flustered.” He recognises, sitting forward.

He reaches out a hand to touch your knee. He looks concerned. He doubts the appropriateness of his actions for a second before reassessing. You are both adults, he has no direct power over you, you are both consenting to being here. Then why did this feel so strange. It felt dream like to him. He had fantasised about you for so long, had stalked your progress in your studies. He had seen potential in you from the moment you were accepted through intake, in fact he made the decision.

You sit up too at his touch. In doing so, you shifted in your chair, your legs widened slightly. Due to the change in position, his hand now sits significantly higher up your thigh. A happy accident. Viktor understands why you are so nervous. He is also aware as to the position he now has you in. In his office, in his chair, with his hand on your thigh.

He tries to make you more comfortable, “Let’s take this back to hextech. Ah yes, perfect, what was the last thing I mentioned in today’s lecture?”

You stared absolutely blankly. Every time you had begun to think real words, Viktor had knocked you back ten steps. Now you were at square one again. You tried to recall the words, but they were fuzzy and blurry and so far out of your reach.

“Viktor, I’m sorry, I can’t remember.” You plead.

“Come on, Miss (Y/N), with your answers earlier we both know what you are capable of.”

“My brain feels foggy. I think I am misremembering.”

“An educated guess is the first big step.”

Throughout the conversation, the intensity of eye contact and body language meant that neither of you had realised that Viktor’s hand now held dangerously highly on your upper thigh. He looked down at his hand on you. It had not felt like he had moved it that far up. You realised that you had gradually been spreading your legs further apart. Gravitating towards one another. Everything leading to one eventual outcome. This was all the confirmation that was needed.

“Come here” He asks, smoothly.

You hesitate, blushing.

He pats his lap, sinking back into his chair. “A good student does what they are told.”

You hesitated not only due to feeling intimidated, but that you were not wearing any underwear. To make it more noticeable to him, you were also wearing a skirt. Of all the days to be sitting on Viktor’s lap, today had to be the one. You climb up onto his lap, sitting side saddle, keeping your knees together.

“So rigid. Where was this posture when you were just spreading your legs?”

“It’s not that Viktor, its- “Your voice trails off.

His hands find themselves around your waist and hips, feeling and calculating, building and rendering what you must look like underneath. His touch is comforting, his hands are hot and hungry. You want to give yourself to him, allow yourself to be devoured.

“I’m not wearing underwear.”

Viktor’s hands stop moving momentarily.

“Is there a reason you came to my lecture without them?”

You don’t answer. You shift more comfortably into his lap, directly onto his crotch. He is satisfied without an answer. He decides that if the outcome of your studies today was to catch him, he was very much in your reach. As you shift in your seat, his hips jolt forward, grinding up into you. It is uncontrollable for him.

“Open them for me Miss (Y/N).” He continues

Viktor guides your hips to move you to straddle him, shifting your legs apart. He watches your movements, eyes focused on you. He raises his hand to his mouth, placing in two fingers, coating them with saliva, before pressing them to you. He slides them over your clit and then down to your entrance. You are already slick with wetness, mainly from the anticipation and mental chess he was playing with you.

“So wet for me already.” His voice is silk. “What a prepared student you are.”

You uncontrollably push forward against his fingers, increasing the pressure against yourself. You moan out accidentally.

“Beautiful” He watches, “And if I place them here, then what noise will you make”

He flicks his fingers over your clit, hovering them over your entrance.

“Please.”

“What was the last thing I said in today lecture Miss (Y/N).”

Your chances of remembering were zero even though he had repeated himself. You really had no excuse for not remembering but it was so impossibly difficult now. You rut against the tips, desperate.

“Viktor, I’ve forgotten again.”

“Such a shame, you seemed so attentive. You will learn and progress, you just need encouragement.”

He unbuttons and unzips his trousers, angling upwards to pull them under his hips and down his thighs to his knees. As his underwear comes away, he springs free. He is exactly as you expected. Seeing him explicitly feels like a sin in itself. With both hands on your hips, he shuffles you forwards to be directly positioned above his waist.

“Information recall is important Miss (Y/N).’ He states. “Repeat after me.”

“Yes.”

He spells the words out slowly. “A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property.”

The words are alien to you, meaningless now. You try to remember, there are two long ‘D’ words, two alliterative ‘C’s. The second he says it, it’s gone from your head again.

“Your turn”

“A dimensionless… cannot contain... dimension” You know it is incorrect even as you say it.

He grins, watching you unfold under the pressure. He begins to stroke himself slowly. You may as well be dripping on him. He lifts your shirt and unbuttons your bra.

“I can do it” You insist.

He removes the shirt and bra, exposing you before him.

“Dimensionless constants contain… no, define…”

He is quickening his pace, pleasuring himself with speed to the vision of you in front of him, stumbling over words he has fed you. So desperate to impress him.

“Viktor, please can you say it again.”

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property” He moans and signs as he speaks. Punctuating the words as they fall out of his mouth. He aligns you with him as he prepares for your repetition.

You reply quickly while it is fresh in your brain, “A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property”

He slams quickly upwards and inside of you, stretching you around him. You scream out his name. He doesn’t stop moving, furiously thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. He gets deeper as you sink down on him.

“Again, Miss (Y/N)”

“A dimensionless constant cannot define a dimensional property”

There is no slowing Viktor down and you hold onto the chair for balance. He has both hands gripping either thigh and his face is warped in concentration and pleasure. His fingers are gripping firmly and roughly.

“I am going to fill you Miss (Y/N).” He commands, “So deeply that you will feel me inside of you until your next lecture.”

“Please Viktor- “

You are filling the study with swearing and ecstatic cries. It isn’t soundproof, Viktor knows that well enough in hearing conversations outside of his door. He wonders how they will react to him holding you down on his cock as he finishes, the sounds you will make. Whether people will hear his name, will recognise you as the prospective student who seduced him and got fucked consequently.

He has slowed his pace slightly, using his hand to rub your clit. You feel yourself building, unravelling. He feels you internally tense around him, gripping his cock and pulsating around it. You will finish imminently.

“I’m going to- “you pant. “Your fingers will- “

“Do it, (Y/N).” He is near his end too, “For me. Show me how badly you want it. Give me no choice but to undo you.”

He speeds up his fingers, forcing you through a powerful orgasm.

“Viktor- “You scream out.

You are shaking, quivering but he doesn’t stop. He removes his hand and buries it into your hair, tilting your head back, pulling you downwards as he pushes upwards.

“Take it” He demands, “My perfect student. Look at you - a whore.”

With these words, he firmly grabs you and holds you still, as deeply as you can manage. He feels himself twitch and spasm, coating your insides with his thick load. He begins to thrust a few more times to feel the wet slapping noise that he has reduced you to. He is at a loss of breath, a loss of words.

You collapse onto his chest, folding into his arms. It feels good being held there as your heart rates begin to settle themselves. There is something pure and honest about the way you both interlock after such an extreme session. He smooths your hair back, kissing you across the face, planting thoughtful kisses on your forehead. He sinks deeply into the chair, as you sink deeply into him. Together you fall into a tired, lazy nap.

Tag List - @gubkkki, @veru-boom

[chromecries]

FINE i'll say it again in case you werent listening, lizzie should be shelbys best friend bc HELLO shes a cat!!!!!!!!

[thevanillerose]

FIREFLY | GIYU x READER | DEMON SLAYER

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

He was a man who never smiled.

At least, you had never seen it happen. You wondered if it were even possible.

Training recently had been rigorous. Ruthless, actually, and the weariness was setting in. You’d rarely seen Giyu because you were just too busy with everything else. You were ever so intrigued by him, but he never seemed to be around.

So when you did happen across him again, it was a bit of a surprise. Particularly where you found him.

A little up from where Hashira HQ was, at the top of one of the winding mountain paths, was a small, peaceful lake. Small enough to almost be a pond, it was situated in a spot that you might not find if you weren’t looking hard enough. Nestled in among rocks, laden with lush undergrowth greenery, it wasn’t easy to spot.

When you did though, the first time you’d come up here on an ‘extra training’ hike, you fell in love with this place. A tiny pocket of peace you could escape to whenever you had a break from being beasted back at the compound. 

You didn’t figure anyone else knew about it. So it shocked you, when you trekked up there again one night, and, panting and sweating, happened across him.

Giyu stood by the water’s edge, calmly, almost looking as if he were waiting for something. At first, you froze in place and almost considered turning back entirely. Maybe he wanted to be alone here. Certainly, it was the sort of place you came to for that reason. 

However, he seemed to have clocked your presence already, as, without even turning his head, he spoke softly:

“You don’t have to leave.”

A bit bewildered, you took a tentative step forward, moving past one of the rocks and placing your hand upon it. The uneven, mossy surface was still damp from the rain that had fallen earlier that day. The air had a humid feel to it.

“You…you’re sure?” Speaking to him always made you a little bit nervous, “I don’t want to interrupt anything-”

“You’re not interrupting anything.” he reassured you in a calm tone, turning to look at you, “Do you often come up here?”

Taking a breath that was shaky, you walked up to him. His moody eyes were fixed on you, but there was nothing standoffish about him. He was just…quiet. But Giyu was always quiet. That was just his way.

And he seemed to want to know. Genuinely.

“Yeah I…sometimes I do.” you came to stand beside him, looking out over the dark water, the moon reflected as a rippling crystal orb. The two of you simply took in the sight for a while, feeling a sense of total peace here.

“As do I. I’m surprised we haven’t run into one another here before.”

You gazed across at him. A stoic man, through and through. But there was something serene about his presence here. Something that made you feel reassured.

Giyu’s hand stretched out, delicately, and hovered above the water. At first, you wondered if he wouldn’t use his powers here. But instead, his hand turned over slowly, showing his palm to the stars, and he unfurled his fingers into a pose.

“...What are you doing?” you asked, but he hushed you. Buttoning your lip, you kept watching, slightly confused, until suddenly, something materialized.

Atop the tip of his slender finger, a tiny orb of light came to land. At first you believed this was some sort of new magic, but as it ebbed and glowed again, you could see the tiny body of a firefly.

“Ah~” your first word in a little while was a soft exhale of awe. Your delight only grew all the more, when the creature was soon joined by its companions.

It seemed to happen at once. The previously dim and shadowed lake, only illuminated by the moon, now began to shine all over. Tiny, seemingly insignificant little golden dots gathered together into a swathe of glimmer. A gorgeous sight.

“Wow…” you breathed, your own widened eyes reflecting the beauty you were witnessing. More and more seemed to materialize straight from the darkness, until it was almost as if it weren’t night at all. 

Eventually, you looked across at him. You’d been so taken aback by the beauty, only now did you turn to speak to Giyu again, intending to ask him; “Did you always know they were here?”It stunned you into silence though, when you saw his expression. 

He was smiling.

Stopping yourself from letting out a word, you pursed your lips, and showed a smile of your own. Looking back over the lake again, you simply took in the view, fireflies surrounding you. You simply made the most, quietly feeling grateful that he trusted you that much.

Wondering, if perhaps he felt the same way about you, as you had come to realize you felt about him.

Just wondering… Because in a moment like this, nothing needed to be said at all. A/N: Had to redo this one because my cat walked on my keyboard. Because of course she did.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[wishful-seeker]

How to Make Your Own Spells

(Or at least this is how i do it)

What makes a spell?

In my opinion, a spell or ritual is the physical act of manipulating the energy around and within us to achieve a specific goal. A spell can look like anything from a few spoken words, like a prayer, to weeks long complicated rituals. You can attempt to cast a spell with nothing but your voice and some intent, or a whole pile of ingredients and tools.

How do spells work?

If we look at rituals in folklore there are a few characteristics that most spells share, but every one is unique, and spells have worked for a looong time even with no set rules for them. In folklore, witchcraft has reoccurring traits, like the number 13 "dance around X 13 times", dancing is also mentioned often, and black animals like black hens, black cats, and black goats. But times have changed, we aren't okay with harming animals for spells, and thousands of people don't use the number 13 or dancing. So why do spells still work even though they all look completely different?

I like to think we as humans have innate power within us that we can choose to utilize in our own unique way. Some spells work really well for the people who made them, but don't do squat for others trying to cast them. I think this is because the act of making a spell or ritual personal, whether you made it from stratch or altared someone elses, is similar to signing a piece of your artwork. You create a bond with those specific actions with you energy, like putting a spiritual signature on it. I think this allows us to utilize our personal magic easier.

I think spells work no matter how they look because the one thing each spell has in common is that we are making a petition to the world and ourselves that we want to make something happen, and because we all have a little bit of magic in us, we can make these things happen.

It doesn't hurt to get friendly with the land spirits of your home, or your ancestors or what-not to help you preform magic. Its very likely outside help will increase spell success.

So how do i make a spell?

You can either be simple or extra with this.

First decide your goal or intent. The more specific, the better. I believe magic follows the path of least resistance so if you aren't very specific with your ask, things might happen in unpredictable ways. Saying "I want a promotion in my current job and enough money to move to a better place." Is better than "i want a better life."

Secondly decide if you want ingredients or tools. This could be herbs that you research correspondences for or crystals you research the metaphysical properties of. This could be items like a skeleton key, a feather you found, maybe a letter someone wrote. I find spells to be more powerful and easier to enjoy and connect with if you use sentimental items you feel particularly drawn to. You don't always need ingredients that have set correspondences, its okay to use things just because you have a good feeling about it or to put your own personal correspondence on things including trinkets, herbs, and crystals. When it comes to tools, like a pendulum, wand, or scrying mirror, you can use these if they feel fun, but they are not always necessary. Some tools can be very helpful in spells, pendulums and scrying mirrors can be used to speak with spirits during your ritual.

Next figure out what you want the spell to look like. This is where your creativity shines. You could do the classics everyone knows: spell bottles, spell candles, and sachet spells. Or you can do what intuitively feels right to you. I personally arrange my ingredients in a pretty way intuitively on a plate then light a candle on the plate, but spells can look like anything. Like i said before, in folklore there is a lot of dancing. A spell could be a dance you do around a fire, or for astral travel dance until you fall and leave your body. A spell can be an art project, perhaps a collage of pictures of things related to your spell. A spell could be something you cook and eat. Let your imagination go wild.

Next thing is optional but i feel like it helps. Im sure you have heard of wiccans casting a circle before each spell to trap certain energies in for the spell. You can do this but i personally like the opposite: creating a liminal space and thinning the veil to really open up to all the energy around me. You can create a liminal space either by being in one ex: at a crossroads, in the woods, at midnight, dusk, and dawn. Or you can make one by creating a 3 or 4 crossroads shape like you would cast a circle. These are both optional though.

Next lets talk about charging your spell and how to actually put energy into it. Again, you can do anything you want. You can charge by dancing, moving clockwise, singing, playing an instrument, meditating, visualizing energy coming from your hands or wand, anything you feel drawn to. For me personally i have to speak my intent allowed and imagine what it'll look like when my spell succeeds to charge it.

If you need inspiration for spells, folklore, fairytales, and stories in general can give you a good idea on what would be fun to do.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[stardustizuku]

Why Miraculous LadyBug Is the Worst Thing To Happen To Magical Girl Genre in All Its History.

It would be easy to sit here and tell you all the logical reasons why Ladybug is a bad show. It has horrible pacing, it has low stakes, repetitive episodes, and a dialogue that is cringe worthy enough to get its own tiktok sound.

But saying that, would be beating a dead horse at this point. Everyone knows this show is a bunch of wasted potential, only made worse by a director who keeps thinking he created gold, when in fact he messed up in a lot of areas – particularly the fact that he’s a grown man who thinks he knows what little girls want.

I’m not here for that.

Particularly, because I can be quite forgiving to shows like this. I mean, they’re kids' shows! Meant for little girls, and I haven’t been one for a few years now. But I still enjoy them.

Why? Well, cause I’m a massive fan of Magical Girl animes. I love the glitter, the sparkles, the silly adventures with friends, and the transformation sequences! Even with all its flaws, I really like them. So, stories or shows that borrow from them, get a pass in all these things. 

I mean, I have fun re-watching WINX Club, I love Star Vs The Forces of Evil despite its flaws. Steven Universe holds a deep place in my heart and She-Ra is…She-Ra is in its very own league of how amazing it is.

So, no. Be it a very dumb show or a very smart one, I can have fun. It’s very rare when a show with, you know, glitter, girly stuff and animals CAN’T hold my attention.

But, well, MLB failed at that.

It’s just, not a good show.

I mean, it could be. But the age demographic would need to drop several, several age groups just to be barely watchable – and even then, I seriously doubt that it would be good for young girls to watch it. The lessons it teaches are concerning, to say the least.

And at this point, you may be thinking,

"Why do you care so much about this show? It’s dumb and you’ve acknowledged it treats its demographic as toddlers. Why do you care so much?"

Well, because I've been here... for a very, very long time.

Listen, I started watching Miraculous Ladybug, back when I was in high school. Maybe a bit old, but, hey, a lot of unique cartoons came out around that time. (Star Vs, Steven Universe, etc). So, I was hopeful. Really hopeful.

Mainly, because I was here before it EVEN premiered. I remember it. The original PV was 2D animated and it had this vague Princess Tutu vibes that JUST I couldn’t resist. It was clear as day that it borrowed a lot of its inspiration from magical girls from the 90's, probably even 80's.

The premise looked similar enough to Kaito Jeanne, and Kaito St. Tail for me to draw those conclusions.

It had a dynamic very similar to Princess Tutu and seemed like a mix of silly and dark like that one was.

To be honest, I could even see hints of Sugar Sugar Rune with Pierre and Felix.

Not to mention, the animation was beautiful.

I will never, never forget that scene with Chat looking at Ladybug starry-eyed under the Paris Moonlight. That was so beautiful, a genuine touch of romance that rang so similar to the Magical Girl animes I grew up with.

I was thrilled, I was excited. I wanted this show to succeed, before even the premier had dropped.

This is all to say -

I never came to this show with the intention for it to fail.

And I didn’t expect nor want it to be ground-breaking or a giant of the genre. I just hoped I could have a fun time.

I didn't want subversions, I didn't want it to be dark, or deep. All I wanted, was sparkles, fun and a good time.

So, when it first aired, I tried to stay positive. I tried to like it, even when it had all these massive red flags.

I’ve never been a big fan of 3D animation, and especially not how it’s used in Magical Girl animes. (We all know the disaster the first season of Sailor Moon Crystal was).

But I swallowed it down.

The characters were different from the original PV

But I swallowed it down.

The background scenery was bland and generic and hardly felt unique.

But I swallowed it down.

I was here since day 1. I was here when Stormy Weather premiered. I was here before many of you were, and

I swallowed it all down.

Because I really, really wanted this to be good.

And I really thought it would.

But things should have been made clear, when they fucked up the one thing they shouldn't. The one thing that held this all together. The one thing that kept me here even as everything was burning to the ground, and I was too naive to realize it.

They fucked up the thing that started all this, to begin with.

MasterList >> NEXT

[obsidianpen]

For the Volmione plot bunny, which trajectory would you have taken to?

oh boy here we go

okay so I imagine it going like this: hermione is working with the Head of Thought, an old witch whose name I probably change in my head all the time but we’ll go with Betty for now. Betty is a wily ol thing, about as possessive of her brains and and with Collecting them as slughorn was with students. She went to school with TR so she’s very excited when he gets added to her tank (maybe they were lovers, enemies, she just adores and or hates him, who knows, not me yet).

but the brains by themselves are powerless. When they’re in the tank they’re just suspended in time, sort of like a mental twilight zone (“they’re as cognizant as a school of fish, and about as interesting to watch,” says Betty as she strokes the glass of the tank). So, in order to properly study the minds within them, they need to allow the brains to animate. They have a very special impenetrable room where they do this, one that’s been enchanted with magic much older than anyone living in the department, where there are runes in place that both allow the brains to regain a body while also keeping them entrapped within the runic symbols in the room. (“Out of one fish bowl, into another!” Betty cackles). Here they can control what, if any memories they allow their subjects to have (“they tend to try to be very violent when we allow them to remember everything, up to the point of their tragic demises,” says Betty wisely).

but each brain has its own set of peculiarities when it animates. Morgana manifests as a raven more often than not, and when she does manifest as a witch, it’s short lived as she soon becomes a bird, trying and failing to escape the runes. Rowena Ravenclaw’s body always manifests with crystals growing out of her skin, particularly along the forehead, and she only ever speaks in riddles - no matter what memories that do or do not give her.

and Tom Riddle, they soon learn, has the strange quirk in that they never know what age body he’s going to be in when they animate him.

The first time, he’s a child with no memory of how he got there. He panics and cries, screaming that he’s not mad he’s not. They shut that one down pretty quickly. (“Fuck that,” Betty declares).

the next time they allow him most of his memories, up to last Christmas, they decide, and he manifests as the snakelike dark lord they all know and don’t love. After she talks to him, he guesses who Hermione is. In his mind, she and Harry recently escaped him, and she has no problem letting him know that it was her, that they got away because of her quick thinking, just like they had a so many times before. “Such a clever mudblood,” he hisses—before trying to violently disrupt the runes and attack her. Betty ends the animation spell before he can do much. (“He always was a sore loser,” Betty sighs).

anyway, it would go from there, with Voldemort starting to understand where he is and turning from angry violent captive to suddenly cool, collected, and charming. He starts to almost always manifest as the hottie young dark lord, disturbingly even when he isn’t allowed memories, like his subconscious survival mode mine that knows that’s the smart thing to do, and hermione finds herself animating him without Betty around (against the rules, ofc) just to talk/argue/yell at/etc him, because he’s just so intriguing and blah blah blah. And he’s obviously trying to wheedle his way out of the DoM somehow and she knows that but she keeps talking to him anyway.

meanwhile she can’t tell Harry or Ron anything about this because she’s an unspeakable and when they ask how work is she just says things like “even if I told you, you would never believe me.”

[honourablejester]

Thinking about homebrew deities for ttrpgs, I’ve been pondering deities that are not default humanoid. A while back I made a post about D&D 5e’s version of Spelljammer, where the Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, and I posited what some of those vast corpses might look like:

“These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone.”

And I’m coming back around to that now. Particularly the sea god who’s a vast alien whale, because space whales, but I’m thinking about gods that are not mostly humanoid figures a-la the RL Greek or Norse pantheons, but are fully alien or weird or just non-humanoid. (I’m including elves and dwarves and most broadly human-shaped fantasy races under ‘humanoid’ here). Gods that do not appear in humanoid form. Gods whose primary worshipers are other forms of life. Gods who are weird.

I do have a couple of homebrew deities that don’t appear in humanoid form already. Nuissas, goddess of primal darkness, who usually appears as a vast eyeless abyssal fish. Ket, the First and Formless, deity of primal evil, who as the titles suggest is formless and possibly doesn’t actual exist at all. And while I was looking at them, I did notice a little … A little mental bias maybe. Because both of them are primal deities. Primordial. The first and the formless. Nuissas is likely the oldest deity in her cosmology, the primeval darkness that existed before all things. Ket is the first and formless evil, the first malicious whisper of a thought a sentient being ever had. They’re primal. Elemental.

Which made me wonder … Do I consider non-humanoid forms to be more primitive than humanoid ones? Not consciously, but just instinctively? Looking at it, gods of civilisation, knowledge, invention, law, are they usually humanoid? What sets humans apart from beasts? Fire. Science. (Possibly also thumbs). Is there a bit of post-Enlightenment bias at work here. Heh.

Although, to be fair to myself, Ineia, my goddess of city and civilisation, is also a spider as well as a humanoid woman. But she’s still humanoid, she just needed extra arms for all the work. So. Not quite enough to count, methinks.

This is only an idle thought, I want to mull on the idea of non-humanoid deities some more. See what I come up with. I just wanted to note to myself, while I’m considering, to look beyond just the primal sorts of domains while I’m at it.

That said, I do still want a sea god who’s a vast alien whale with innards full of strange waters. Being eaten by a vast divine whale-god is just too entrenched an image, you know? Maybe also a deity of light and twilight who is a vast beautiful bioluminescent jellyfish. No, I’m not stuck on sea creatures over here, absolutely not. But if you had a waterworld setting, you could have a LOT of fun drawing up a fishy pantheon. The deity of invention and adaptation is a cephalopod. The deity of war is a mantis shrimp. The deity of trickery and hunger and malice is an anglerfish.

But even in a standard fantasy world, some deities that are not and have never been humanoid. A dwarven knowledge deity who is the stone itself, a vast tracery of mineral veins across the world that carry thoughts and dreams and memories. A deity of trickery and magic who turns out, at the base of all its million forms, to be a simple mote of potential, something that looks visually a bit like a will-o-wisp or a soot-sprite made of light, a thought given vaguely physical form. A forge-god who built themselves, a machine-thing of metal and magic that built itself limbs and systems and housing as it required them, a monument to self-expression and self-construction, function over form, with no care for the aesthetic sensibilities of lesser forms of life. A black hole that is the deity of absolute law, remorseless and inexorable and pitilessly even-handed. A deity of remorse and sacrifice and healing that formed from the regretful blade of a monstrous killer, given life and divinity by their final act of self-murder. Gods who are dark moons and balls of mangled flesh and rivers of space time and tiny trembling animals and perfectly mundane objects and abstract shapeless things. Gods who are weird and funky and abstract and just do not deign to appear in familiar form for mortals. If I must look like you for you to worship me, you are not worth my time. I shall appear as I am, or as I choose, and you must simply deal with it, or shatter, as you so choose. Heh.

Non-humanoid deities, is my point here. I need to think on it some. Heh.

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

you've told us basic plot of the fantasy Au but how about the witch Au 👀?

Unless theres already a post about that if there is oppp- sorry

Oh the Witch AU has a plot, but I'm gonna be honest I never really figured out to integrate everything together lmao

The basic gist is that Fanny is (again) the protag. She's one of the most powerful witches there is in this universe, though she only was able to obtain this power via making a deal (it's NOT the Devil though that did cross my mind to add him). In exchange for this power she lost vision in one of her eyes, a flower sprouting from the socket, though she keeps that part hidden with bang of hair.

In universe she's known as the Iris Queen, in reference to purple irises sprouting wherever she has left devastation in her wake. Nobody has ever been able to kill her, and nobody is actually certain if she's really a mortal or not. I'm here to say she technically is but isn't. I mean you could kill her, but it'd be a complicated process. Especially when taking her familiar into account.

With the power granted to her, came a gift of sorts though Fanny cannot begin to fathom why the beast she made a deal with would do such a thing. The familiar is a massive snake, looks like a tree viper to be specific. It can camouflage itself and shrink to a normal size if it chooses to. What's odd is, well, everything about it. Can't put her finger on it but there's something wrong about it.

And she's right! Because that snake belongs to someone else! :D

Okay so originally, I never had an actual main antagonist for this AU. Maybe the cult but that was it really. Until like, a couple of months ago when I was struck with inspo via doomed yuri. There was no correlation between those two things btw it just happened that way lmao.

I haven't come up with a name or design for this antagonist yet but they are worshipped by a cult and are some kind of eldritch being of sorts with the ability to shift through memories, space, and time. They particularly love people with trauma though. And Fanny has a lot of it. Which makes her a prime target. Of course, it's not the only reason she's a prime target.

Remember the snake? Yeah that's theirs. As is the power granted to Fanny. You can imagine that would piss it off quite a lot. The cult understands this and a few years ago before the start of the story (in my head) Fanny was successfully captured by this cult. But she was able to escape though with the cuffs of the chains still on her.

She did come face to face with the villain though while escaping and had her ass handed to her quite thoroughly. Good news is she still got away.

Okay so where the story started to go to shit was that I needed Fanny to interact with the cult again, but more importantly, I needed her to interact with the other characters as well.

Because Cuphead, Holly, Boris & Bendy (Bendy is a familiar in this), and Alice were supposed to be the main ones accompanying her on her journey. Specifically I wanted her to meet them because she's trying to get these chains off which she hasn't been able to do for years. Her familiar is the only reason she's still alive alongside everything else I've mentioned. But the problem with the chains still on her is that using any amount of magic energy causes magic erosion (when the soul & body cannot contain magic anymore so it enters the physical body and starts to basically devour/decay it) so she can't use her powers as much as she'd like to.

(Also should say magic erosion looks like cracks forming on the body or single body part. At its worst stage the whole body or body part crystallizes and shatters. And yes the whole process is painful, incredibly so. Magic erosion can also lead to magic poisoning in some cases which is completely different and it's more like a disease or infection slowly spreading over the body. Sometimes you can get both!)

And where I have since left off with this plot is Fanny was recommended by pure happenchance of encountering another witch, a sea witch, who claims that a certain witch farther south could help her with her problem because they'd done something similar with her.

That witch is called by many names: the Blood Witch, Witch of Sin, the Scarlet Witch, etc.

It's Cuphead. It's just Cuphead.

And that's where the plot left off last I checked.

And yes, I have ✨️designs✨️

Though it's only Cuphead and Fanny lol never really got around to doing anyone else's

Also! Apparently I wrote the plot for this AU but I have no fucking idea what any of this was meant to be-

THIS IS WHY WE WRITE SHIT DOWN PEOPLE!!!!! 😭💀

[terresdebrume]

Messrs Payne and Rowland's Adventuring Agency

Part 1: The Arrival of Young Crystal - 23

Getting there! This is going to get some SERIOUS revisions before it ever goes near AO3, but the general idea is built and at 13k some for the draft, I'm guessing it'll be a decent sized story xD Now, if someone could tell my gdoc to behave and stop pretending like I didn't write a couple thousands of new words in that whole Crystal & Charles v the early supermarket shift session, that would be great.

It's surprising how fast some things become familiar. They found an alleyway at the edge of the residential areas, calm but not quite deserted, and they're waiting for Mr. Payne to finish his incantations with a game of boulder parchment shears that Crystal is, as usual, winning with almost frustrating ease.

She'd have less luck if Charles actually paid attention to it, but at this point she's come to expect the way he keeps an eye on the mouth of the alley and another on Mr. Payne, always on the loukout for danger. Crystal is leaning against the wall beside him, aching and tired and looking forward for her not-a-treehouse of a room, with its comfy bed and its soft light. She is also, despite Charles' best efforts, still pissed.

"It's just not fair," she whispers angrily, trying to angle her mouth away from Mr. Payne, just in case now is the time he decides to pay attention to her again. "I don't even know how I did what I did! It's not like he can't learn combat spells in his precious books."

"You're really convinced he's jealous of you, aren't you?" Charles chuckles, and turns back to the front of the alley just in time to miss the flat stare Crystal throws his way.

Shouldn't he see it too? He said he and Mr. Payne have been partnered for longer than Crystal has been alive. Presumably. So how can he not see the way Mr. Payne grimaced every time Crystal's magic came up after their fight against the sea creature? Well, maybe he sees it and he's just trying to sweep it under the rug, but somehow Crystal doesnt think so. It would seem too... well, too underhanded, from what she's seen of Charles so far.

"I can't think of any other reason for the hostility," she says. "Other than him being a stuck up ass."

"You have to be a little patient," Charles says, finally turning back to fully look at her. "We haven't had anyone stay with us this long before-I know you don't remember right now, but most people would be unnerved at having an unexpected guest stay in their home indefinitely."

Crystal winces and looks away from Charles. He's not wrong. She is an imposition, she doesn't need her memories to realize that, but where the fuck else is she supposed to go? She has no idea where she's from, or what she can do aside from hitting things hard and apparently hurting them with her mind, it's not exactly the kind of skillset the city seems to need. Even if it were, well. It's not like she's seen an abundance of women in the city guards--there are some, yes, but not many, and all older than her. She can't sit on a bench until she's old enough to join.

"Ah," Charles says as the door of the agency clicks open. "Here we go."

He follows Mr. Payne inside, leaving Crystal literally on the outside looking in. The walls show the dark green of the office, always the first room they see upon arrival, which kind of makes sense. It's elegant and no nonsense, but not austere, at least not unless Mr. Payne decides to make it so. There's a sense of personnality in it, Charles' trinket mixed with his colleagues' books and manuals, and after almost two weeks coming back to it every night, Crystal has to admit there's a comfort in seeing it, too. She wonders if that's what it feels like for them. Coming home. She wonders if there's a place out there that'll give her the same feeling twenty years from now.

"You will have to make a choice eventually," Mr. Payne calls out, appearing in Crystal's field of vision like a particularly miffed ghost. "If that could happen sooner rather than later, we would all be quite grateful."

Crystal rolls her eyes and steps in, carefully hiding the small pinch of relief when the spell lets her in again. She bites her gauntlets off, first, then gets started on the rest of her buckles with a grunt of annoyance. Charles said she'd get better at it, but it's been a couple of days and frankly, right now she's not seeing it. At least she mostly figured out how not to snag her hair when she takes her breastplate off, but that doesn't prevent her from glaring at Charles when he comes in and chuckles at her.

"Shut up," she grumbles, stepping into the office and going straight for the bookshelves.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.8

Character: Sky x male reader, Brandon x male reader, Riven x male reader

Universe: Winx Club/Winx Saga

Warnings: None

Out of nowhere, I could feel a particularly intense pair of eyes on me. Looking up from the animals around me, I could see the icy gaze of the same graceful woman who summoned these magical beasts. I dropped my arms in confusion. Her mood swings irritated me.

Why is she staring at me like that? She seems to be the director. And yet she doesn't know who I am?

I almost unconsciously stepped forward when a strange breeze flew past the back of my neck. Even more angry, I turn around quickly. Right in front of me is a guy with wavy blond hair. In his hands, handcuffs engraved with runes to stifle magic.

Immediately alert, I clenched my fist and punched the handsome blonde square in his face. A mask of disappointment, anger, and disgust is visible on my face for all to see as I look up again. Sudden horror ran down my spine when I could see a hawk in the distance, standing still in front of the Alfea Gate.

Someone really called the damn specialists about me? How dare this person? I even have a faint idea who that person might be. But right now, I can't do anything about it. Considering, the next guy is already coming my way: A tall man with short brown hair and a sword so large that if it were metal rather than a fusion of magical crystal and plasma energy, he would never be able to wield it.

I could barely roll out of his way. "You dishonorable bastard! I have no weapon!"

I looked up at him with wary eyes as I began to stand back up again, surrounded by a group of girls who were screaming as they realized what was happening. Staring into his hazelnut-brown eyes, I could see something odd. Confusion maybe? But he still did not put down his sword. "Then use your magic. You're a fairy, aren't you?” another guy called mockingly across the yard.

Thanks to his loud words, everyone who hadn't seen our little squabble now looked at us, making it impossible for me to take a secret getaway. And at this point, I wouldn't dare take my eyes off these idiots. What else could they do if they would do something as dishonorable as attacking someone without a weapon?

"I don't think that would be such a great idea, purple boy!" I mockingly called back at the guy. Before he could get a word out of his opening mouth, I snapped into a fighting stance, obviously shocking him. "After all, I don't want to accidentally cause serious damage to...dilettante rookies like you boys!" It effectively silenced him. Only his gaze became more intense.

"Yes, because you're not a fairy," he angrily screamed at me. "You freak!"

Before I could know it, my head turned from the brunette to his direction. As my face caught his boyish face, my anger had already grown to its limit. "Freak?" I ask him loudly. "Freak?"

Something in me shattered at that moment. Hearing something so disgusting, my will to restrain myself slowly breaks away. At first, however, they didn't worry too much - as the carefreeness on their faces clearly shows - when the ground started shaking under all our feet and not even when trees started falling right in front of the school.

But their faces twisted in fear when I finally released some of my restored magic; it flowed away from me in waves. But even I was surprised that a faint glow began to surround me. I've seen that before! My grandfather had the same glow he showed me when he coached me before the war when he wasn't the dick he is today. But my face quickly contorted from the heavy strain I imposed on myself by pulling rocks from underground. Only then did they really start to worry.

Barely off the side of my vision, I could see the tallest of the three: strong but with a bad posture. Close behind him, the blond with a straight back. He rolled his sword in his hand. He's obviously an aristocrat, judging by his posture and arrogant demeanor. Both are charging at me.

I didn't care for them. Not until their swords were dangerously close to my neck. Watching the sun glitter strangely off the plasma blade, I couldn't contain my annoyance. With a little grin, I then use a little trick I haven't used in a long time. One moment they were in front of me, and the next, they were right where they started.

Despite the enormous pressure I was putting myself under, I grinned at them. Only to turn back and look the purple-haired guy in the eye again. Horror crossed his face now. It gives me so much satisfaction that I almost stopped, but I've gone so far that I can't stop now.

So I have to go through with it. I gathered as much magic as possible and pulled a single spike out the ground. As the only clue that something was coming, I decided a grin would be perfect. And it really is. Not only because it completely upset the guy, but it also makes him obviously nervous.

I let out a scream so animalistic that most of the girls jumped away in fear, and some even went into their fairy wings stage to fly high in the air. It almost disturbed my concentration. For a second, I think about what I would look like with my own wings. Would I be half-naked like these girls?

But I banish those thoughts before I can lose my grip on the stone.

Instead, I focus more on the anger still seething in my stomach. Still, with the same grin, I finally ripped the stone out. With a speed no one could have guessed, the sharp end of the spike rushed toward the guy. Following him with my eyes, the grin on my lips turns into an evil smirk, waiting for the cruel effect.

Much to my surprise, a shield activates just before impact. Even the man with the purple hair has a look of confusion on his face. As soon as the thorn hit him, he was thrown into the air. But soon, he lands a few meters away, rolls up, and quickly stands proud again.

I'm already aware that my magic isn't that...adept, but this? It pisses me off that he could dismiss it so...easily. Besides that, I still wonder where that shield had come from. But that quickly answered itself when I averted my gaze back at the two other guys. Blondie's arm, still outstretched, told me everything I needed to know.

I can't answer why that is. It just makes me angry. So much so that I formed two more spikes with my left arm, pulled them out of the ground, and furiously attacked the other two guys. Oddly enough, the taller of the two - the brown-haired one - is extremely quick on his feet, ramming his sword into the ground and stopping the impact of the stone spikes like a damn turtle unfazed by a predator's teeth.

Realizing this guy would be a bigger problem, I chose a different attack pattern instead of spikes. Out of nowhere, discs jump out of the ground and throw them at their heads instead of their bodies.

As they got closer, my grin came back because I knew it was the end of them. I even take my eyes off them. 

Until I could hear it.

I immediately threw my head back at the duo. Only to see Blondie standing there: with his left leg extended slightly back and his right leg further forward, almost kneeling. His gaze sharpened as he stared at me.

"By the great Neloran. You really know how to make someone angry!” I say out loud, my eyes blazing with magic.

I take a small step forward and already have two more discs ready to throw. When out of nowhere, my arms fall stiff against my body. Confused, it breaks my concentration, forcing me to drop the discs. But they did not crack to my utter confusion.

Looking down at my body, I could see a strange rope around me, light purple in color. I know immediately who is brave or rather stupid enough to dare something like that. I catch him with my eyes. Now he's the one grinning. But I combine his grin with a grin of my own, which irritates him deliciously.

As I rebuilt my magic, the rope slowly got pushed away from my body. The moment the weird guy noticed this as well: he tightened the rope again, negating the magic. But before it could fully enter my head, a searing pain shot through me. "Ahhh," I yell sharply. With my eyes half open, I kept staring at the purple-haired guy. His grin had turned menacing.

If I don't do something quickly, he will actually bring me to my knees! No person has ever done that, and some rookie specialists won't be the first!

So, despite the pain, I search for the strength to breathe calmly. To refocus on the magic trapped in my body and allow it to flow back down into the ground. Everything seemed fine until it stopped flowing down. Shocked, I looked down as inconspicuously as possible. Even looking down and seeing what was stopping my magical flow, it took me a moment too long to realize it. The surging pain is getting too much. My body is ready to give up, bending my upper body forward so it looks like I'm bowing to this little bastard.

With my mind slowly blurring, I could not think of much. Before I could even attempt to think of a way to get out of that situation - which would probably have melted my brain - my body began to tense on its own. Slowly my shoes were torn apart by my magic. As soon as any part of my skin touches the ground, the electricity coursing through finally could be freed into the dirt. Allowing me to breathe easier.

I threw my head back with a sigh of relief. With my eyes wide open again, I lower my head. I immediately locked eyes with that bastard again. Horror is in his violet eyes as he sees my relaxed state. "How about you come closer?" I ask him kindly. Only to impatiently grab the taut rope and pull it.

Without much trouble, I pull him closer and closer. With a big grin and a maniac look in my eyes.

Even though I let out some of my suppressed thirst for blood, I didn't forget those around me. How could I? And, of course, the duo "Dumb and Stupid" had to try to trample on my little happiness. Their heavy steps draw my attention, almost like that of a Galagantuan—a beast of an animal, small but with a body so condensed you could feel every step for multiple meters. If only they were a little more graceful. They may have surprised me. After all, I would still be dealing with the cheeky purple guy.

Despite noticing the duo getting closer, I decided in a split second to keep an eye on Mr. Purple and pull him closer to me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see their shadows getting too close while also getting more rope.

As I watch the smaller of the two guys unsheath his sword, I twist my whole body sharply toward him. Looking into Blondie's eyes, I let go of the rope for a second but only let enough out of my hands for the purple guy to lose his footing. 

Watching everything out of the corner of my eye, my grin widened as I watched the purple guy completely lose his footing. Even if he hadn't, nothing would have changed in my plan. I quickly pulled hard on the rope and, with a little of my magic, catapulted him just inches into the air. This allows me to effortlessly drag him through the air so it looks like he's flying: directly into the Duo.

Finally, with a grin, my full attention lays on the duo, but to my surprise, I could only see one of them, the blonde, and he was a lot closer than I'd like. The guy just managed to dodge, slipping under the rope, getting his sword closer to my neck than last time.

My grin faded a little, feeling a sharp breeze touch my skin. On the other hand, he began to grin triumphantly, but mine was still on my lips as well. After all, I did not lose yet! I could tell quickly that it made him uncomfortable. Luckily, the guy on the rope finally landed. I didn't miss this opportunity for a second because it gives me exactly what I need at this moment. Without hesitation, I slam his sword away from me with my rope-bound body. As the blade flew away from me and the guy was still looking at it confused, I head-butt him.

As he falls, his nose begins to bleed profusely. It makes me grin even wider. Finally, I could free myself from the rope. Triumphantly. Turning slightly to look for the third idiot, I suddenly feel dizzy. Before I could comprehend it, my eyes close, leaving me in utter blackness. But my head isn't completely gone yet. I could feel dirt on my face, some liquid running down my neck, and finally, just moments after falling, someone picked me up off the hard ground.

As I was being carried, I regained sight for just a moment. I could see the purple guy dusting himself off and being taunted by the blond. Who almost looks majestic in the midday light beaming down on him. Something about him feels different.

But suddenly, he looks over at me. His gaze is ice cold, almost murderous. He harshly slaps the shoulder of the guy carrying me just as my sight blackened. Only this time, my mind slowly slipped into nothingness as well.

Out of nowhere, my head came out of nothingness, immediately feeling the all-so-well-known swaying of the hawk. I could hear voices, but before I could hear anything interesting, I lost myself in the darkness as quickly as I came to.

[Masterlist]

[chaosflight]

For Gemtaur AU: Since Garnet is her own character alongside Ruby sand Sapphire, will the other fusions exist/do exist on their own?

This is a tough one!

I'm honestly not sure how to handle other fusions in the world of ancient centaurworld. Garnet is CRUCIAL to the plot and themes of SU so there's simply no way this au could exist without her, but her creation is already very peculiar (and accidental, aha).

I think. I would like to have other fusions exist in the world in the same way Garnet does! However, I don't know if they'll be made by OUR gems- perhaps there's a Rainbow Quartz equivalent made (through magic) by a different Pearl and Rose Quartz equivalent elsewhere in the world?

For example:

A random deertaur and horsetaur! Let's call them Cara and Renneigh (yes that's a horse pun no i'm not sorry)

Renneigh is, as a horse centaur, fairly privileged and is expected to to maintain an air of class and grace... which means not dilly dallying with the servants. However, there's a deertaur that she's particularly fond of, and they become friends and start hanging and even fall in love! Because of the Dragon Shaman's beliefs and the strictness with which they're maintained, this is Bad. Each kind of centaur should only be with their own kind. Yay for fantasy racism (sarcasm. SARCASM.)

Much like Rue and Saff, them interacting outside of working together (or, more accurately, one working for the other) is HIGHLY FORBIDDEN. And centaurworld.. well, its inhabitants frequently defy even its own expectations.

Cara and Renneigh's love for each other might spark a new life- something that in SU we would recognize as a fusion- but here would become a separate entity in mind AND body.

Their child would probably look similar to a child spawned by Pearla and Rosa's love, if they ever had one. I don't know if that's in the cards for them at the moment, honestly! Maybe in the future?

One thing's for certain, though, Rosa's herd is where outcasts (and their possible fusion children) tend to go, so if we see any more fusions, they'll be very nearby! Perhaps Cara and Renneigh made their way to our herd (the crystal gems) with their son, Ranibow. (that name is not a typo. yes he's named after the meme. i'm hilarious.)

Perhaps he's even a playmate or cousin-figure to our little Steben!

The mixing of two different species (whether by magic or more mundane means) always results in something not quite like either the parents, though! A deer and a horse, in this instance, made a rainbow antelope! Maybe Pearla and Rosa would make a pink and blue zebra? Maybe they would make a donkey? A goat?? It's hard to say! Even two children from the same two parents (using the same method) would/could result in wildly different offspring (unless they're made at the same time, in cases of twins?)

What do yall think??

[remidyal]

Remidyal's Fic Masterpost

A full list of my current fics, assuming I remember to update this post and pin it!

I love people doing derivative works and give blanket permission for any non-commercial art, podfic, etc SO LONG AS you do not use an AI or machine learning tool. Also, please link it to me because I wanna see.

Dimension 20 stuff:

Long fics:

Lunacy is my longest fic (at the time of writing this, about 180k words), an in-progress Adaine (and, particularly later, Aelwyn) focused fic in which Adaine fails her con save and becomes a werewolf. Similar overall in tone to the original, Lunacy strives pretty hard to be largely canon compliant from that divergence point, other than things that just are mostly changed for narrative needs. A heavy focus on Adaine (and again, later, Aelwyn) finding a family. There's two other works in the series; one is a short fic that was a draft oneshot of the core idea, the other is some supplemental material and missing scenes.

This thing is my baby and if you make art or recursive fic of it I will love it and you.

Missing is another in-progress long form fic, this one with Aelwyn as the main character and Adaine in the secondary role. This one is much less canon-compliant than Lunacy; the Abernant parents start on physical abuse sooner than they do in canon, and Aelwyn is a little bit braver and runs away, taking Adaine with her. Generally will have shorter chapters than Lunacy and definitely won't be going 250k words the way Lunacy probably will by the end.

Oneshots and short series:

Most of these are in the 1k-2k word range.

Fantasy High:

Poison and its sequel Bane focus on a very toxic relationship between Penelope Everpetal and Aelwyn Abernant. They're pretty angsty, but I actually really like them. It's not a sincere romance by any means - for starters, Aelwyn in almost all of my works is Aromantic Pansexual (and Adaine is aroace) - and it's definitely Penelope driving it. I may do a third part of this one sometime.

Dreams is much longer than most of these oneshots, just short of 10k words, and is centered around Riz and Kalina, though all of the Bad Kids appear and Fig and Adaine are the most important characters besides those two. This is a class swap AU, with Riz as a Cleric of the 'Sleeping God', and Kalina (and the Sleeping God) as a much more ambiguous figure than the Nightmare King and Kalina of canon. I DEEPLY love the class swaps here, particularly Cleric Riz, Warlock Kristen, and Wild Magic Sorcerer Adaine.

Flames of Passion is the only one of these that's under a thousand words, coming in right around 900. It's also maybe the only one of these truly focused on a romantic ship (Poison and Bane are definitely not ROMANTIC). The pairing is Kalvaxus/Gilear. Make of it what you will.

Dig Out is another one that's likely to get a followup someday. This one seems more angsty than it really is, because I think it ends in kind of a happy way? But it's marked with major character death, because Adaine's a zombie in this one. Give it a read anyway? I genuinely have grown to really love this one.

The Ghost of Me is another one where Adaine dies, but this one's almost triumphant. This is a fic imagining her following through on the threats she makes to Kir and Angwyn if the Elvish government executes her.

Minutes from the July Mordred Manor Wizard's Council Meeting is almost a purely comedic fluff piece, centered around the Mordred Manor Wizard's Council of Adaine O'Shaughnessey, Aelwyn Abernant, Ayda Aguefort, and Zayn Darkshadow.

Waiting is a purely comedic piece about the Bad Kids, plus Aelwyn and Ayda, getting a summer job at a thinly veiled Waffle House expy.

Runaway was a theoretical pilot (the same way Lunacy had) for a series in which Aelwyn stuck Adaine in a palimpsest in their fight and then fled the country with that crystal.

Non-Fantasy High:

Sisters is a post-canon by several years A Crown of Candy fic following Ruby looking into possible disloyalty among the new Candian nobility.

Gallivant's End is a post-canon Starstruck fic following Riva on their journey home, worrying about the changes they have gone through.

Unending Summer is a post-canon (I'm sensing a trend...) Unsleeping City fic focused on Iga's kids, who I had to create tags for to publish this fic even though they are awesome. Y'all should write more Iga's Kids fic, collectively.

Non-Dimension 20 Works

These have both been on hold for a few months, but I do plan to complete both.

To See the End is a Tales of Berseria canon-divergent AU fic, splitting off at the point where Magilou makes her last stand against Melchior; in this, the party is slower and Melchior pushes her to the point of brain hemorrhaging, killing Magilou and leaving her spirit to reincarnate (as a powerful magic user) on the spot as a Malak.

People Who Lies To Themselves is a full Naruto AU where Orochimaru ends up as the fourth Hokage and the village is just generally harsher and crappier, but at least more open about it. It follows a Sakura who gets peer pressured in VERY different ways.

[sketch-guardian]

Before I break down crying... what was Demya's family like? you mentioned them and I just went 🥺🥺🥺

Also here's ur weekly reminder to drink some water and get a full 8 hours of sleep!!! much love <3 - Isa

Nooo please don't cry😥it wasn't my intention to sadden you so much with a simple mention🙈if it's any consolation, Demya was very young when the tragedy happened, so her memories aren't crystal clear, they're slightly blurred because it was all too hectic and scary for her demon child mind (…wait, maybe I made it worse-)

Anyway for the occasion, I decided to make a quick sketch (in fact it sucks-) of Demya's family✨which consists of her two parents, because it would have been difficult to describe precisely their appearance in words😖so I created some references on the spot (I'm sorry I didn't think of names and if their looks are a bit weird-). Also, thank you very much for the love and support Isa!😳💜Such reminder and feeling are mutual of course☺In any case, let's start:

TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst, violence, kidnapping, enslaving, death

WHAT WAS DEMYA'S FAMILY LIKE?

So, let's start by saying that, although I doubt there is a need to repeat it, Demya's parents did not survive and lost their lives trying to save their little girl from being captured by humans on Earth, therefore they didn't receive any type of burial.

As for their origins, they were part of a kind of ancient tribe of demons called Fauxsaeva, they were quite savage and their society was based on fighting and a certain code of honor (for example, just think of the yautja), moreover they were used to hunt human beings on Earth, when it was still allowed for demons to...eat them in short. The family was one of the most important values ​​and one way to start a relationship was to prove that you were the strongest by eliminating the competition, Demya's parents met that way.

Demya's mother had a particularly euphoric and sunny personality, even if a little eccentric, while Demya's father was more serious and slightly grumpy, but still very protective of his family and proud of it. As a child Demya used to hide in her father's hair to rest and he already considered her his little brave warrior, while with her mother affectionate soft nibbles and hunts turned into games were more frequent.

Demya's mother, having not given birth to other children, was also very protective towards her family, so when the kidnapping happened...both parents fought tooth and nail to get their daughter back, dying in the attempt, because the humans they came across were sorcerers (and Demya's demon tribe was known for their fearsome physical strength and ferocity, not magic...the tribe was also known to have some characteristics in common between each other, namely the possession of more than two horns, multicolored hair and the absence of wings).

Those humans didn't kill Demya just because she was still a child and therefore could in a sense be trained, but after various exchanges and negotiations, she was eventually sold to a circus famous for its freak shows, where several years later she was released and found by mistake by Domnra, who took her back to Devildom.

[ofdragonsdeep]

6: Ring

The circles close, like the snake devouring its own tail.

There was something unsettlingly perfect about Elpis.

Ar’telan had been in the floating islands, as much as his tenuous presence could be considered it, for over a day now, and it had not lost the feeling. Every gust of refreshing wind was ordained by the weather controllers, every aspect of the environment meticulously curated. Any creature acting out of turn was corralled and removed, through fair means or foul. It was alive, but not alive.

Not to say that it was a bad place to be. The researchers he had spoken to had found him fascinating, in some cases in a very intense way. He disliked the way they examined his ‘flaws’, but he had learned a great deal from them nonetheless. They were dedicated to their work, even if the idea of creating a perfect creature seemed strange to Ar’telan. They cared about the creations under their care. It wasn’t a bad place to be.

It just didn’t feel like a good one.

He hadn’t articulated this feeling to Emet-Selch and Hythlodaeus. He was not entirely convinced that either of them were lending him the same weight of opinion as a person deserved, never mind a peer. Hythlodaeus treated him like a particularly strange child, and Emet-Selch tolerated him. He adored Meteion despite how little time he had spent with her, but she was not likely to understand the feeling either. She would feel it, though, with every moment she spent around him, and he would have no words to explain it to her. Hermes was lost in his work, in his own feelings, in his education of Meteion.

He held in a sigh, watching as Hythlodaeus had a cheery conversation with the researcher stood by the Neus they were due to take. The lines on Emet-Selch’s face, ones that would normally be hidden by his mask, twitched with every minute spent in idleness, but not enough for him to actually say something. It felt like looking at ghosts.

—

Another rotation of the sun saw Ar’telan with the same worries, but a different space to have them in.

Meeting Venat had not made it better. She had recognised the magic in him, Hydaelyn’s Blessing of Light, and she treated him like a person, but she still felt like a ghost. All of them did. He knew her voice from the lifestream, the crystal imploring him in soul-deep words: Hear. Feel. Think.

And here she was normal. Not for the Ancients, no, not in her white robe of retirement and her excitable thirst for adventure, but she felt so real. Perhaps unsurprising that she would one day watch over the Sundered so stoically, when they lived their lives the same way.

Elidibus - his heart ached to think the name - had told him he could not change anything. That he would not be able to act at all, and if he did, he had no guarantee of being able to return to the world he wished to save if he did enact change. And yet his heart ached for these ghosts, because they were real here.

“You seem troubled.” Venat. “I promise that Emet-Selch looks that annoyed for everyone, if it helps.”

“I know. It’s not that,” Ar’telan replied, sitting himself down on the edge of the island and earning a quiet noise of concern from Venat when he put his legs over the edge. Elpis claimed to be highly dangerous, but in honesty Ar’telan could name more dangerous postal runs. Then again, given the frankly bizarre client list the Head Postmoogle had often given him, maybe that wasn’t saying much.

“We’ve time to talk about it, if you like,” Venat offered, sitting down beside him. He had already talked too much, that was half of the problem. But what could he even say?

“Maybe in a few thousand years,” he offered, which made her laugh. He had never heard Hydaelyn laugh, it had to be said, though he had never looked on her with much fondness that might cause her to. Another guilt to add to his list. 

“You did a brave thing, speaking up,” she said. “Understandable that Emet-Selch would not like it, considering the part he is due to play, but you are not at fault for that.” Ar’telan sighed.

“I know that,” he said. “That’s…” He shook his head. “I did not tell you all of the details. I mean, I hardly have time to cover the lifetimes between your now and mine. But…” He thought of running from Ul’dah after the Banquet, of the image of the life draining from Nanamo’s face. Of the desperation on the Warriors of Darkness, and the dejection in Ardbert when they had met again - a lifetime for him, and but a span of moons for Ar’telan. So much suffering, so much pain, and… “...I blamed - I will blame you. Hydaelyn. For it. All of the tragedies we endure, and all of the mysterious words we received in return, drawn like blood from stone. I thought - I thought of you as a heartless creature, ordering Minfilia to her death.” He swallowed back his feelings, as if it would help. “But it’s my fault. I told you about the First - I was here, in this now, and it is my fault that you know all of this. And it saves so many, yes, but…” He trailed off, unsure what words he could even sign to give life to the depth of his feelings. Here, in this place where every moment felt ordained, in this society where everything was set up so tidily, everyone so predictable. So perfect. How could he even explain the chaos, the feelings it engendered?

“You remind me of Azem,” Venat remarked, making Ar’telan blink in surprise. “It’s a compliment, from me, lest you worry,” she added, a smile creasing the corners of her mouth. “They feel everything so deeply. They fit in so poorly in Amaurot.” Ar’telan could see the happiness at the thought of it lining her bright blue eyes. “I felt guilty about it for a long time. Bringing them into a place like Amaurot, asking them to work within a framework they so clearly chafed against. But despite it all, they made the role their own.” She glanced down at him, a curious look on her face. “It is strange, to see an echo of their soul in your own, and I know as well as any that a life lived before has no bearing on one lived now. But in this, at least, you are alike. And you are not at fault for what will happen - what has happened, for you.” She closed her eyes. “If I fail, despite all you have armed me with, and yet create this primal, it will be my choice to act on what you’ve told me. My choice to push events towards this moment, in the hopes that it gives your people a future we could never have. Tell me: of everything you’ve ever done, even the things that you regret - do you think it worth doing?” Ar’telan sat with the question, fingers wrapping around each other uneasily as he considered the answer.

“I don’t think that it matters what one person thinks,” he replied. “I was happy to give my own life to save the realm. One for many. And I know… I know, in their hearts, every one of those who I watched die felt the same thing. None of them would have been where they were if they hadn’t. It’s selfish of me to deny them the agency of making that choice because I want to feel guilty about the result.” He shook his head, tail twitching unhappily against the stone. “If knowing that made the pain go away, the wounds wouldn’t still be raw.” He smiled ruefully at that. “Not a good answer, I know.” Venat smiled, and it was kind.

“Most answers worth having are complex ones,” she replied. “Anyone who seeks simplicity in the infinite is a fool.” She grimaced. “Now I sound like Lahabrea.” Ar’telan held back the flinch. 

“I just… I want you to know that I- in context, I am sorry for hating you. Hating Hydaelyn,” he said. “And I know now, having met you, that it will hurt you as much as it hurts the rest of us. But it was so hard to know at the time.”

“I will let my heart break a thousand times if I can see you and yours live,” Venat replied. “...Easy to say now, I know, but I will try and hold it close, if that much of me remains in Hydaelyn’s presence.”

“It will,” Ar’telan said, almost without thinking. “...I feel it is selfish of me to ask, but will you- will you promise me something?” His fingers trembled over the words, and he watched as Venat nodded in silence. “What is left of Elidibus - will you bring it home?” He saw the acceptance turn to surprise. ��I have- I hoped- we fought on the First, like I said. I don’t know… how much of him was trapped in the tower. How much of him was lost before that happened. And I know that the Elidibus you know was all but consumed for Zodiark, but if there is anything drifting… please, bring him home.”

“A duty that would normally be reserved for Emet-Selch, but I suspect he will be a little busy,” Venat remarked, a little of the humour back in her eyes. “I shall do what I can, if I can. Elidibus is… dear to many of us. I am both gladdened and deeply sorry to know he is dear to you, as well.” Ar’telan closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the soul vessel at his side. He did not know if he had succeeded. If it was possible to succeed. If what was left to pull from the Tower with all he had left was even enough to be called Elidibus. But he clung to hope nonetheless. Eventually it would pay off.

“Thank you,” he said. “I know… that you have been told a great many horrible things today, and I am sorry. If we had the time, I would share some kinder stories.” Venat smiled at that, a reassuring hand finding his shoulder.

“I will have time enough to watch them, it seems,” she said. “Perhaps it will do us both some good.”

Ar’telan hoped she was right.

[akirakirxaa]

neck kisses! I'll let you choose the ship this time :3

[Prompt list here! After much consideration, this one will be Akiraha. <3 Takes place at the end of 5.3.]

Akira was terrified.

What if it didn't work? What if, when she woke him, he knew nothing of their time on the First, the events that brought them together? What if he didn't even know her, different as she looked from the first time they'd met? She clutched the crystal to her chest, forcing herself to remember Lyna's tearful vow that the whole Crystarium would be praying for his safe journey. If prayer and faith could give rise to primals, surely they could also ensure this would work. She told herself this over and over as she climbed the stairs, her grip so tight it hurt, one hand on the crystal holding G'raha's soul, the other running her thumb over the surface of the Azem crystal in her pocket, as if to soothe herself with its presence. She didn't know if it's magic could do anything like this, but if the soul transfer crystal didn't work she would try anything.

She wasn't entirely sure where the younger G'raha would have bedded down when he decided to stay in the tower. She certainly didn't remember anywhere looking particularly comfortable for a magical slumber. She decided to start at the throne room and go from there. When she entered and saw the bright red hair and the curled up form on the over large throne, she froze at the entrance, as if she just stayed there, it would spare her from hurt. But, of course, that was ridiculous, and she slowly began her approach.

It was as if he had been kept in stasis during his slumber, not looking a day older than she'd left him. She wasn't entirely sure what to do, but Krile had placed the other crystals next to their respective scions and the soul transference seemed automatic. With shaking hands, she placed the crystal on the throne next to him and waited.

And waited.

It seemed like forever, or maybe it was only moments, when the crystal finally did something. It glowed, like an aetheryte being attuned to, a cloud of glittering motes floating between the crystal and the slumbering miqo'te. She held her breath as she jumped up, moving closer as she fought back the fearful tears and the thoughts of it's not going to work it's not going to work. After what felt like an eternity, ruby eyes blinked open, and at least one anxiety was eased.

"What do you remember?" Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper, as she tried to hold her panic together. If he didn't remember she would just have to tell him everything, the whole story, she would tell him however many times she needed-

But he took her chin in his hands and pulled her close, pressing his lips softly against hers.

"I remember everything," he replied, barely parting from her, and her relief was so that she clambered up onto the throne with him, clinging to his hair as she kissed him with the enthusiasm of a drowning woman finally breathing air again. He pushed her against the throne's back, lips falling to her neck as he ran his tongue over the scales there, teeth lightly grazing-

"Oof," his weight disappeared and Akira blinked her eyes open to see he'd fallen over on his side, his face bright red in embarrassment.

"I think you might need to rest a few days," Akira couldn't help her chuckle; as much of a shame as the interruption was she was just delighted that he was here to even have the chance at recovering. "It's been some time since you shut yourself in here."

"I suppose..." she almost laughed again at his disappointed expression, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before helping him down, letting him lean heavily on her when she noticed how his legs shook under his own weight.

"Don't worry, I'll be right here to pick up where we left off when you feel better," she held him close, his weight nothing compared to the greatsword she normally carried, and he leaned his head on her shoulder, ears giving a happy little flick as his tail wrapped around hers. "Dog's at the gate, he'll get us back to the Rising Stones, and we'll have Krile check you over."

She teleported them together to the bottom, thinking G'raha might not want to climb down all those stairs. Probably a good idea, considering by the time they'd reached her lilac chocobo he was leaning heavily on her, and she was pretty sure she wasn't imagining his hands shaking. She lifted him onto the bird, Dog crouching down to make it easier, then climbed in front, pulling G'raha's arms around her to make sure he was still seated as she urged her chocobo towards Revenant's Toll.

[storms-path]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 26 - Last

In the end, there was only one choice to make. She ignored Fareena’s roar of protest, Stalwart’s plea to reconsider, Alisaie’s desperate attempt to stop her. Her eyes were on Sanda, limply floating in the air, taking a blow that should have been meant for her. Click. It was done. The Scions were safe. Her sister was safe.

You won’t die alone, spoke the voice in her head, familiar and comforting as despair incarnate bore down on her. We’re with you to the end. The monster in front of her was saying something, but Arashi wasn’t listening. It had already tried and failed to break her. When she died it would be with her back straight and her head held high. It was a small act of defiance, but it was one she could be proud of. One last spit in the face of the same thing she’d fought day after day, year after year. What was a few more minutes in the face of-

Crack

Arashi and the Endsinger looked to the sky in confusion. That wasn’t right. Why was there a crack in the stars?

Crack

It was widening. Something was breaking through. What could possibly…

CRACK

Realisation dawned on Arashi with all the awful clarity of a thunderbolt. Oh no, no, no, no. Not YOU. Not now!

Zenos viator Galvus, former crown prince of the Garlean empire, now wanted by most of Etheirys, didn’t particularly care about what his friend wanted. He had shot through the very stars themselves to find her, to finally give her what she surely, surely desired above all else. The raw, unfettered pleasure of a fight to end all fights. And the end of everything would surely be their most fitting battlefield. But something was clearly wrong. Her prey was still alive. Her insipid companions gone, even the small one in red. Clearly he would need to intervene.

SMASH

The Endsinger tried to hide their disbelief. A wyrm, brimming with aether and burning with passion, sprang through the gap in their perfect enclosure of despair. And then it spoke. Demanded to know why this half-made creation hadn’t killed the very incarnation of the futility of living yet. Such a brazen, ill-conceived notion, that it could possibly hope to conquer the epitome of the universe’s darkest emotions. And yet…

Something new bloomed in the heart of the Endsinger. Amidst the overwhelming despair, the rage, the grief… was fear. Fear that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t right in its unwavering conviction. They did the only thing that came naturally to such a thought. They fled.

Zenos pursued. It was the only thing to do when the quarry made to escape. The thrill of the chase was in him now, pushing him further, coursing through his body, constructed and flesh within. He barely noticed when Arashi leapt onto his back, clinging tightly to his wild mane. Soon they would end this properly, but for now the hunt was all that mattered.

Arashi, having chosen to simply accept the strangest gift she had ever received, clutched her amber crystal to her chest. One last call. One last cry for help. The crystal shone with blinding light as the last dregs of Hydaelyn’s magic pulled forth the support she needed.

At the end of everything, the Warrior of Light prepared for one last battle.