#oriental light and magic

[acquired-stardust]

Gunsmith Cats OLM 1995

[melabea]

Light Magic User 4 Shadow Magic User

(pt: Light Magic User 4 Shadow Magic User /end pt)

(id: a rectangular flag with 5 equally-sized horizontal lines. colors in order from top to bottom are orange, light yellow, pale green, blue, and dark blue-grey. /end id)

Light Magic User 4 Shadow Magic User/Shadow Magic User 4 Light Magic User Flag

tagging; @radiomogai, @thecoffeecrew404

[aardwolfpack]

This show is now twenty-five years old.

[noahsresources]

DETAILS ABOUT OCS !

send an emoji/description of emoji to learn more about a writer's oc! many of these are taken from my munday asks meme, because i thought it would be fun to make a version for characters too! the prompts are categorized by emoji type and given descriptions in case anyone can't see the symbols. can be used for roleplayers and any general writers alike! for roleplayers, these can also be used for your interpretations of canon characters if you so desire as well!

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒. 💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)? 🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars? ✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person? 🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies? 💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings? 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos? 📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)? 🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)? 🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities? 🩸 DROP OF BLOOD — what is your oc's blood type?

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒. 🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. 💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits? 🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming? 🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons? 🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise? 🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. 🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use? 🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday? 🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets? 🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? 🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal? 🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature? 🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school? 🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening? 🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒. ❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits? 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? 💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits? 💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them? 🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends? 💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any? 💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside? 💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world? 💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background? 🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)? 🍰 SHORTCAKE — what is/are your oc's favorite sweet(s)/dessert(s)? 🍦 SOFT ICE CREAM — what is/are your oc's favorite ice cream flavor(s)? 🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer? 🥯 BAGEL — what does your oc's typical breakfast look like? do they usually eat breakfast? 🥪 SANDWICH — what does your oc's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch? 🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner? 🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink? ☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄. 😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? 😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved? 🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? 🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? 🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy? 🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions? 😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool? 😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge? 😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone? 🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily? 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?

[ellecdc]

Come Back, Be Here (part 7)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 4.5K

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, healing/blood and injury, Bellatrix's cursed knife, angst, hurt/comfort, use of Y/N, character death

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. It's now October 31st, and the Order has a plan.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a wife, a new mother, a Malfoy, and a Black. She was a proud pureblood, a cunning Slytherin, a noble woman, a powerful witch, and exceedingly loyal.

It was this last trait that seemed to be causing her the most problems, however.

Loyalty. 

It was her loyalty that caused her to bite her tongue and smile when her husband announced that he had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord, who promised to bring the purebloods glory and to protect them from the likes of muggles and mudblood’s who were threatening their way of life. It was because of her loyalty that when her sister asked her to hide something of grave importance to the Dark Lord, even though the object exuded Darkness and Evil, she hid it in the rafters of their attic. 

And it was because of her loyalty that when her baby cousin showed up at Malfoy Manor covered in blood, ash, and rubble with a lifeless body hanging limp in his arms begging for her help that she responded with, ‘bring her to the cellar’. 

Narcissa needn’t wonder how she got here; she knew all too well. She was loyal, and she protected her own.

When exactly her disowned blood-traitor Gryffindor cousin’s muggle-born partner became one of her own, Narcissa wasn’t sure. 

(The day you ‘died’)

“What have you done!?” Narcissa gritted through her teeth as she pulled the clothing off of the nearly-dead-witch’s body.

“’Cissa, please, I couldn’t leave her there-”

“Why not!?”

“She’s – she’s Sirius’, she’s...” Regulus took a steadying breath. “She’s Sirius’, Narcissa.” 

“For crying out loud.” Narcissa growled. She wanted to argue, she wanted to scream and curse and tell him to dump this witch back where he’d found her. But she knew...

She knew she would have likely done the same. 

When her son Draco was born, Narcissa had never felt so alone; her mother was long passed, her father was distant and cold, Bellatrix was insane, and she had long ago lost her favourite sister.

She thought at that moment of Andromeda and her husband and daughter.

If this had been Ted Tonks lying nearly dead on a hastily conjured drafting table, or their daughter Nymphadora...

Narcissa knew; her dog-like loyalty and her dragon-like possessiveness knew no bounds. 

So, she pulled on all the blasted magic she could think of – light, dark, and ancient. Types of Oriental, coastal, Scandinavian and Aboriginal magic; anything and everything she could possibly think of to bring this witch back from the brink of death.

 Spending her life as a dedicated pureblood meant spending a lot of time hiding away in libraries – no one could scold you for it, and you could hide away from whatever nonsense they were currently shoving down your throat. She thanked the deities for all of that time spent researching now. 

Thoroughly exhausted and covered in another person’s blood, Narcissa stepped back as the witch finally took a breath on her own.

“Thank you, Narcissa.”

“Do not go thanking me yet, cousin.” Narcissa huffed. “What exactly is it you plan to do with her?”

Regulus stared dumbly at her. “Uhm...well, return her?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Right, and then the Dark Lord suspects a traitor amongst his followers and kills us all for the act of disloyalty. Really cousin, did you hit your head in this battle or something?”

“Well, what do you suggest I do then, Narcissa, since you are clearly so much smarter than I?” He questioned hotly.

“This is not my mess, Regulus. You should have left her there to die.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Narcissa asked incredulously.

“Why should she have to die? Hm? Because she was born into the wrong family? Does that make her evil? Fate does not make us evil, Narcissa; choices do. I did not choose to live as a pureblood, I was only born into this life. But I chose to follow the Dark Lord, and I chose to join this war. I choose to aim my wand at people who raise their wands in defense whilst I wield mine in hope for power and glory. So why her? Why should she die while I go home to eat from my silver spoon that was promised to me at birth?”

Narcissa balked at her cousin. “Regulus, what - what are you saying?”

But Regulus did not have a chance to respond before Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Junior followed a small house-elf down the stairs into the cellar.

“My, my, don’t tell me you’ve plundered some booty for us, dear Reggie!” Barty exclaimed excitedly. 

“What, pray tell, is the meaning of this?” Snape asked as he eyed Regulus and Narcissa skeptically. 

“We were wondering where everyone got to – oh.” Mulciber added as he stepped down into the cellar with Goyle trailing behind him. 

“I found her at the set-up.” Regulus said plainly after throwing up a hasty occlusion behind his eyes.

“I see. And why exactly is she here.” Snape asked again. 

“Did you...heal her?” Lucius guffawed.

“Why waste your energy on a pathetic mudblood?” Mulciber asked.

Narcissa stayed quiet and allowed Regulus to swim his way out of this on his own. She would not risk her own life protecting his mistake.

But what made it a mistake?

Narcissa had never once questioned the pureblood rhetoric that her parents entrenched in her. Not when she first stepped foot into Hogwarts. Not when she watched her classmates get bullied and harassed for their muddy blood. Not when it was announced she would be wed to her own cousin upon graduating from Hogwarts when she was only twelve years old, and not even when she was again announced to be wed to Lucius Malfoy instead at thirteen, after said cousin was sorted into the wrong house – bringing disgrace to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black; and not even when her older sister defected from the family by falling in love with a filthy mudblood. 

She looked at Regulus then. As the baby of the family, Regulus had seen all of this. He had witnessed the announcement of his big brother’s betrothal to his first cousin when Sirius was only ten years old. He saw the fallout and witnessed Sirius be ignored, embarrassed, and humiliated that first summer home after being sorted into the wrong house. He watched Sirius get tortured, brutalized, and starved every summer after that until he left home for good. He watched Andromeda be chastised and forced to choose between her family and her heart for falling in love with the wrong person. He watched Bellatrix descend into madness as she became more and more involved with Dark Magic.  

Regulus, the baby of the family, had witnessed all of this.

Narcissa thought of her own baby then, upstairs being looked after by a house-elf whilst she was downstairs with her husband and his house guests while they argued over who had more of a right to this unconscious witch’s body than the others. 

Did Regulus make a mistake?

Did she?

“Hmph, well, we’ll see how long this lasts.” Mulciber spat at Regulus before the five newcomers moved back upstairs leaving Narcissa alone with Regulus and the witch. 

Narcissa watched as Regulus used Legillimency to peer inside the witch’s mind before he spoke. “You’re awake.”

The only response Regulus got was the tightening of the witch’s eyes.

“Squeezing your eyes shut will not change the fact that I know you are awake.” He commented with an eyeroll.

Narcissa watched as Regulus continued to monitor the witch.

“Yes, I am talking to you.” Regulus responded verbally.

A beat of silence.

“Very elegant.” He muttered.

“Indeed, you are.” He quipped again.

Narcissa watched as you peeled your eyes open and blinked against the light above you; she heard your neck crack loudly as you turned your head towards Regulus before your face fell.

“You can’t be serious?” You rasped disbelievingly. 

“Close, but no.” Regulus smirked as he stood and moved toward the table you were lying on. “The name is Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black.”

Narcissa watched as a look of panic crossed your features as you took in Regulus.

“I don’t suppose you happen to know occlumency, do you?”

You shook your head in response.

“Shame. Well, for your sake, I hope you are a quick learner.” Regulus said before he stupefied you. 

“This just got an awful lot more complicated, Regulus.” Narcissa commented quietly.

“I know.” Regulus sighed before he turned to his cousin. “Narcissa, please, will you help me?”

Narcissa looked between her cousin – the only relative she really had left – and the unconscious witch beside him. Suddenly, the witch wasn’t just a nearly dead burden – she was a chance. An opportunity for more. An opportunity to do better. An opportunity to have better.

“I do not want this life for my son.” Narcissa admitted quietly.

“What?”

“I do not want Draco growing up worried about who he will be betrothed to before we even send him off to Hogwarts. I do not want him watching children be jinxed or hexed for being born to the wrong family – or worse – be the child jinxing or hexing them. I do not want to watch him slowly lose every single person that ever meant anything to him because they could not adhere to the same drivel. I do not want this life for him.” She took a deep breath.

“I want more for him, Regulus. I want better.”

Regulus searched Narcissa’s face for a few moments before nodding.

“Let’s do better, then.”

October 31st

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” You muttered as you continued to pace a hole through Narcissa’s vintage Persian rug. Regulus fought the urge to groan and repeated the plan that Dumbledore had discussed with him for a third time.

“Remus Lupin has been made secret keeper of the currently vacant cottage in Godric’s Hollow. He, as Peter Pettigrew, will meet the Dark Lord in the town square of Godric’s Hollow at eight o’clock tonight. He will then escort the Dark Lord to Potter’s cottage where I will be in the form of James Potter and Narcissa in the form of Lily Potter. Apparently, to no one’s surprise, Sirius has demanded he be there – so Sirius will be there in his animagus form as will Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore will be hidden under Potter’s invisibility cloak. Dumbledore has the sword of Gryffindor, and Narcissa was able to purchase Basilisk venom from Borgin & Burkes on Knockturn Alley, which means the Order will be able to slay Nagini without resorting to unforgiveables. I, however, will have no qualms firing an avada at the Dark Lord, so we will see how the rest plays out. Either way, he will die.” Regulus spouted in monotone.

You seemed to consider this as you continued pacing. “And I...”

“And you are staying here.” He said with finality.

“Why?” You asked petulantly. Regulus did not find it at all endearing.

“Because you have to look after Draco.” Narcissa offered.

You softened at the mention of the boy but seemed unconvinced. “You have a manor full of house-elves; I’m sure Dobby wouldn’t mind-”

“It has to be you, Y/N.” Narcissa said. “It needs to be someone who will not be swayed, regardless of who shows up and starts barking orders.”

Your head fell back in resignation as you looked at the ceiling. 

“Okay?” Regulus asked quietly.

“Okay.” You admitted in defeat, bringing your gaze back to him.

Regulus offered you as kind a smile as the youngest Black and a chronic Slytherin could manage. “Your nose is bleeding again.”

“God damnit.” You muttered as you conjured a tissue into your hand and held it to your nose. More and more of your memories were flooding back in, and - just as the Healer had suggested - it was extremely painful. Not only were you now privy to migraines, nose bleeds, and the occasional seizure; you had an overwhelming sense of anxiety laying its damned wet blanket over you. You were somewhat annoyed that your memories appeared to be attacking you now when you would have benefitted from not remembering all of the reasons why this plan had to go just right.  

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” You muttered miserably.

“Why did it have to be Halloween?” James whined. “I love Halloween.”

Lily patted her husband’s shoulder in sympathy, though neither her face nor her tone held any warmth. “You can love Halloween next year.” 

James and Lily stood in the doorway of 12 Grimmauld place with Harry strapped to James’ chest. Sirius triple checked their bags before shrinking them down and putting them into a backpack and placing it onto Lily’s shoulders. 

“Okay, explain the plan to me one more time.” He ordered the Potter’s. 

Lily and James shared a quick glance before the former rolled her eyes. 

“We’re heading to an undisclosed location. We are to set up protection wards the second we get there, and we are not to leave until Sirius’ patronus reaches us. If, in the event that we do not receive a patronus from Sirius or Moony in the next two days, we are to assume that the plan has failed. In that case, we are to begin heading west via muggle transportation and make our way to Ireland before boarding a flight to Canada where we are to remain for the rest of our lives.” She relayed to him in monotone. 

Sirius beamed at her and kissed her cheek. “Right-o, Red! But, not to worry, you’ll be hearing from my patronus in no time.”

Remus watched with a small smile from the staircase. He knew Sirius was trying to stay positive mostly for himself; he’s been in such a state since you were taken, and he was running on fumes waiting with bated breath for this to be over so you could return home - return to him. He had so many questions about so many things; questions for you, questions for Regulus, questions for Dumbledore. Remus watched his friend become manic, almost as if Sirius was the one expecting the full moon at the beginning of next week. The friends tried to stay patient with him, but they were all looking forward to this being over.

“It’s me and my family they’re after, I should be here to end this.” James muttered. 

“And you’re our family, Prongs. So, we’re here to end this.” Sirius responded.

“He didn’t just threaten you and Lily and Haz, he threatened all of us.” Remus added.

“I owe her my life, guys. I owe it to Vix to see this through.” He responded, shifting his gaze between his two friends.

Sirius’ eyes welled at the thought before he quickly shoved his feelings back down into his stomach – he’d deal with those later; for now, he had a megalomaniac to kill. 

“You’ll have the rest of your life to make it up to her, Prongs.” He offered with as much a smile as he could muster. 

James gave his friend a sad smile of his own before enveloping him in a bone crushing hug.

“I’ll see you soon, Pads.”

“Once the mischief is managed.” Sirius answered.

As Lily, James and Harry left Grimmauld place and apparated to location unknown, Remus and Sirius exchanged a look.

“Ready to finish this?” Sirius asked Remus.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

The clock tower in Godric’s Hollow’s town square rang signifying eight o’clock. Remus tried rubbing his clammy hands against his cloak, not wanting his hands to be slick when it came time to brandish his wand. Thankfully, with the full moon this close, and it (by the grace of every god) seeming to be a ‘manic moon’, Remus was at his strongest, and he would not be letting that go to waste. 

The rancid smell of dark magic permeated Remus’ senses signifying the arrival of Voldemort and his last horcrux.

“My dear boy,” Voldemort sang out, “are you ready to face victory in the name of your Lord.”

“Absolutely, my Lord, it is my honour to help you see this through.” He responded verbatim to what Dumbledore coached him on. 

“Lead the way.”

So, Remus did. 

In what felt like a death march, Remus (as Peter Pettigrew), a twelve-foot snake and melted-wax figure looking Tom Riddle made their way to the Potter’s cottage in Godric’s Hollow. Remus listened to the sound of his heartbeat and Nagini’s skin sliding along the gravel lane as he unlatched the hook of the fence and made his way up to the door.

He looked behind him to see Voldemort smiling victoriously at the house as it materialized in front of him. Remus turned back to the red painted door and knocked three times, paused, knocked once, paused, knocked twice more.

“Come in!” The sound of Lily’s voice filtered through the wood of the door and Remus heaved a breath before opening it in front of him. 

“Hey Pete!” James greeted as Remus stepped inside. “We just put the kid to bed, glad you could come by.” 

Remus watched as James turned his back to the door and continued toward the kitchen whilst Voldemort and Nagini let themselves in. With a quick flick of Remus’ wand, the door shut and locked behind them. No way out now, fucker.

“Come on in, Peter! I’m just making something to drink, would you like one?” Lily called from somewhere in the house as the trio continued in, watching as a cat wandered its way towards the kitchen seemingly unawares of the company behind it.

As they passed a hallway leading to a half-bath, Padfoot began to bark.

“Oh, come now Pads, it’s just Peter! You know him.” James said as he came back out into the hallway where he saw his good friend Peter in the company of Nagini and Voldemort.

Voldemort whispered something in parseltongue and in response, Nagini poised to lunge. 

When the snakes body elongated and her neck stretched as she launched to sink her fangs into James, Sirius had turned back into his regular form, and with the sword of Gryffindor swung at the snake, severing its head from the rest of its body; the snake’s body and its head fell to the ground with a sickening wet thud.

“No!” Voldemort cried before Dumbledore ripped the invisibility cloak from his form and Lily exited the kitchen. Suddenly, the forms of Lily, James and Peter and the actual Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sirius stood with their wands aimed at Voldemort. 

“What have you done?” Voldemort seethed at Remus. Remus smirked in response.

“I won.” He said simply.

Voldemort growled as he pulled his wand from his cloak, blocking an expelliarmus from Dumbledore and a bombarda from Sirius. 

“Incarcerous!” McGonagall shouted and Voldemort was bound by invisible restraints.

Dumbledore stupefied the flailing Tom Riddle and the six exchanged glances. 

“Did...did we do it? Did we just...stop Voldemort?” Sirius whispered.

“It feels sort of anti-climactic, does it not?” Lily asked before she cast a quick finite over herself, revealing Narcissa Black. Remus opted to follow suit and shed the skin of his rat of a friend.

“Narcissa?!” Sirius balked, earning him a smirk.

“Hello, cousin.”

“But, why? How?” he asked.

James followed suit and cast a finite, melting away the enchantment and leaving behind the form of Regulus Black, causing Sirius to choke back tears.

“Reggie...” he whispered reverently.

“Sirius.” Regulus responded with a curt nod, seemingly unable to meet his brothers’ eyes.

A sob tore its way through Sirius as he lunged himself at Regulus and embraced his little brother. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“Disappointed?” Regulus asked, seemingly unable to figure out what to do with his own arms which were pinned under Sirius’ grasp. 

“No, not in the slightest.” Sirius answered honestly as he pulled himself back from his brother only to bring his hands up to clasp either side of his brother’s face and scrutinize him. “You’re really okay?”

Regulus’ brows scrunched together at his brother’s words. “Could be worse.” Regulus responded in a whisper. 

“Why don’t we catch up later, once we have everyone together again?” Narcissa offered with a soft smile. This seemed to snap Sirius into action.

“Yes! Okay, yes. Let’s go get Y/N and then we can send the Potter’s a patronus!” He exclaimed as if were a child being told they were heading to the mall to meet Santa. 

Remus chuckled and even Regulus seemed to smirk at his brother. 

“You go, Minerva and I will escort Mr. Riddle here to the Ministry.” Dumbledore said with a wink at his four former students. “Thank you all, for your bravery and cunningness today.” 

The four offered Dumbledore varying levels of smiles: Remus a wide one, Narcissa a polite one, Regulus’ looked more like a grimace and Sirius’ mouth stayed downturned as they watched the headmaster and deputy headmistress leave with Voldemort in tow. 

“Let’s get the band back together.” Remus announced, and Narcissa held out a portkey for Remus and Sirius to use to travel to Malfoy Manor.

“See you there.” Narcissa said as she and Regulus spun and apparated to return to you. 

Regulus and Narcissa were just heading toward the vine covered gate when Remus and Sirius fell unceremoniously from the sky. 

“Fuck, I hate portkey’s” Sirius commented as he stood with a grimace and wiped grass stains off his jacket. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Narcissa commented from her place as the two men joined her.

“That’s like asking a fish not to swim, dear Cissy.” Sirius responded with a smirk.

Narcissa gave him a fond eyeroll before leading the way to the hidden library.

“PUT THE BOY DOWN!” The shrill voice of Bellatrix could be heard. The sound caused each of their throats to tighten as they all took off in a run towards the library.

“Get away from us!” Sirius heard you shout back. 

As the four of them rounded the corner, Sirius saw you standing with a crying Draco Malfoy in your one arm as you bounced him consolingly while your wand was in the other aimed at Bellatrix in front of you. Behind Bellatrix stood Barty Crouch Junior and Mulciber. 

“Bella!” Narcissa called causing the witch to turn her onyx gaze on her for a second, though her wand never faltered in its aim at you.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, NARCISSA?!” She screeched. 

“Bellatrix, get away from my son this instant.” Narcissa barked. Remus took this opportunity to try to move closer to you and Draco, which earned a purple spell being shot at him from Junior’s wand.

Suddenly emersed in some kind of gothic-style Western standoff, every witch and wizard in the library had their wands pointed at someone and someone’s wand pointed at them. One errant sneeze and someone would avada or be avada’d. 

“Bella, you’re frightening Draco.” Narcissa tried quietly.

“He’s frightened, Cissa, because you’ve left him alone with the likes of a FILTHY MUDBLOOD.” 

“It’s over, Bellatrix.” Sirius shouted. “Voldemort has been captured, he’s on his way to Azkaban as we speak.”

Bellatrix’s already rage filled face contorted in pure outrage. As the Death Eaters were distracted by the news of their leaders down fall, Regulus and Remus began duelling with Mulciber and Junior. Narcissa and Sirius both shot curses and hexes at Bellatrix at the same time, but she quickly defected.

“You, you-you FILTHY BLOOD TRAITOR. You’ve betrayed your kind and defied OUR LORD, YOU INSOLENT-” As Bellatrix continued to rage, you began to slowly side-step your way over to Narcissa and Sirius while cooing at Draco. Sirius kept his gaze locked on you as you kept yours on Bellatrix, and both of your wands stayed on their mark. Remus had Mulciber in a muggle choke hold looking far too pleased with himself as Regulus cast an expeliarmus at Junior.

“YOU SHOULD BE DEAD! I KNEW BETTER THAN TO LET THOSE STUPID, STUPID MEN USE YOU AS THEIR PLAYTHING.” Bellatrix seethed at you, now standing directly beside Sirius, keeping the arm holding Draco just behind him. “YOU WEREN’T EVEN GOOD ENOUGH FOR A WHORE!”

At this, Sirius shot a curse at her which she deflected and began rallying more off. Bellatrix brought her other hand up to her hair and then swung her hand forward. Flying towards Sirius, you and Draco was Bellatrix’s cursed blade.

Narcissa took but half a step to her right, placing herself directly in front of you as she cast an avada kadavra at her sister. Bellatrix’s eyes rolled back as she fell to the ground with a thud and the room became deathly quiet save Draco’s sniffles. 

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed.

Remus and Regulus were readying their captives for the Auror department as Sirius turned to face his cousin, only to find her holding her chest as blood seeped through her robes and fingers.

Narcissa slowly began sinking to the ground as you gasped and held Draco’s head to your shoulder to shield his view.

“Cissa, no!” Sirius cried as he helped lower his cousin onto the rug. Narcissa took some gasping breaths as she looked at Sirius and you, and then at her son. 

“Y/N.” Narcissa called weakly.

“I’m here, Narcissa.” You offered through a sob. 

“Take care of my son. Take care of Draco, please.” She begged you.

She turned her gaze to Sirius. “I want better for him. I don’t-I don’t want...” She trailed off as she choked, blood appearing in the corners of her mouth. “I don’t want him to be raised with so much hate. I want – I want him to only know love.”

She looked back to you as you bounced her son back and forth. “Make sure he knows love for me?”

You nodded emphatically as tears trailed down your face. “I promise to do good by you; both of you. He will always be safe with us, Narcissa.”

“And loved.” Sirius added. 

Narcissa smiled at the two of you. “Thank you.” She said as she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

Narcissa Black Malfoy was many things. She was a daughter, a sister, and a cousin. She was a wife, and new mother. She was a Slytherin, a noble woman, and a powerful witch.

Narcissa Black Malfoy was extremely loyal. And it was this last trait that cost Narcissa her life. 

Continue to the finale here.

[feathermushroom]

HOLY SHIT this makes a lot of sense- this gave more deep at this cartoon

people who watch ben and holly’s little kingdom like to compare the elves situation to slavery because they do most of the manual  labor work, i know its meant to be a dark joke but if we want to bring unnecessary racism into this then id argue the elves are the racist why because of there hatred of magic.

the elves are always oppressing the fairys to not use their magic just because they dont like it of course you could say its cause their afraid but why besides nanny plum the characters rarely use magic outside controlled settings like home or class and when they do its very usually mild and when it is trouble the characters can fix it.

now i say the elves but you should know i really mean the wise old elf as he does most of the magic hating other elves have shown some disliking but never as bad as him, whatever the monkey-kittens did made him hate to a point of outright banning out of his spaces. that being said he is also a hypocrite cause whatever clearly didn’t scare him enough to not use it as the elf engine’s power source so he clearly sees the good things about magic so why  be racist to everything with magic 

cause its a kids show and its never that serious so enough slavery comparisons please

[pincushionx]

Meet my interpretation of the previous Golden Guard, Credence

Credence was created at age 18 and made Golden Guard at 22 where he picked up a talent for abominations and Illusions. Basically anything flashy. Rather than being isolated or directly abused by Belos, Belos put Credence on a pedestal and made sure coven members below the ranks would listen to him while also making frequent threats towards him in regards of his image. Credence was made to feel he had to be constantly making a show, proving that he’s not powerless.

Credence is a bit of a germaphobe, values personal grooming and image. He always try’s to present himself perfect but he’s a bit unprofessional. In short he’s a little shit.

To his knowledge, he has no family relation to Belos but rather a young adult who had passed the coven trails and gotten to terrible accident where wild witches attacked civilians who he heroically saved. That Belos saw his heart as pure and took him in despite his amnesia and lack in magic. (I like to think Belos raised his Golden Guards differently as tests) Where he was trained to become the Golden Guard, purest of them all.

He a bit of the “ideal” type in regards of being Golden Guard, which is where such a harsh standard was set on Hunter.

He differs from Caleb due to having a straight nose and more narrow eyes as opposed to and aquiline nose and rounder/droopy eyes. His personality also differs greatly, he acts a bit like a nicer Adrian , if Adrian was a good person. Can come off as mean or arrogant but in reality he just likes putting on a show.

Despite being Darius mentor, they are actually close in age. Credence was 23 he met Darius who was 22. Darius had been trying to climb the ranks in the Abomination coven when Credence stepped in a decided to take him under his wing. Credence was fascinated at the research Darius doing on merging flesh with abomination matter. They soon become good friends with light pining.

He revealed his face to Darius when he was 25, 3 years into their friendship.

The mentor title comes from the fact that Credence was essentially the one who advocated for Darius and taught him more combat oriented ways on abomination magic to fit in better in the Emperor’s coven. The whole mentor, student ting became a bit of a joke for them and way to fondly view each other.

Credence begins gathering data and information to go against the Emperor at age 26 due to Belos saying some stuff that contradicted the Titans will. Credence bagan questioning before finding some dirt on Belos which resulted in a confrontation.

He went “missing” when he was 30 years old and then a two year old appeared. He was one of the longer lasting Golden Guards. He would have loved Hunter. Darius was 29 and regrets never admitting his love.

I head canon within the empire’s 50 years of existence, there was a total of 9 castle Golden Guards. Credence for 8 years and Hunter for 3 years.

I definitely have an another Golden Guard planned out to make, one before Credence with some stuff involving Lilith.

Also go help the timeline make sense, Darius and Eda are 43, Lilith 44 by the time Luz shows up.

I’ve been wanting to create some Grimwalkers lately and I’m glad my ideas are coming together.

[robin-evry]

𝐖𝐇���𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍!𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 🕊️🎙️

A Halovian singer who was born in Penacony and has risen to cosmic fame. An elegant and demure young lady. This time, she has been invited home by The Family to grace everyone with song during the Charmony Festival. She can use the power of "Harmony" to broadcast her music, manifesting "resonance" among not only her fans but all manner of lifeforms.

During the orientation, they woke up in a dazed and immediately rushed to ask where their brother was, when Crowley asked who they were, they realized they were in a different location or as well another dimension. The last time they remember is embracing their brother after the final battle with the astral express.

They were soon admitted into the infirmary due to during the teleportation their body is seen to bruise and need some healing.

Robin!yuu learn how to get used to the world. They also upload some of their music online and manage to get a record deal, starting their career as an idol again.

Many students are especially curious about what they are, many students believed that robin!yuu might be a seraphim or an angel that have fallen

( I mean they kinda are right since halovian are inspired by angels )

Grim is very fond of robin!yuu wings they are the softest material to cuddle upon, they're soft and warm like a pillow and blanket.

Vils favorite no doubt, they share some secrets about their routine as well to have a spa day together. Many pomifiore are inspired to be more like robin yuu.

It's not canon in the game, I headcanon when they are embarrassed their wings will cover their face. They can control their wings on their will.

Join the light music club, becoming an unofficial vocalist in the group. Carter once asked them to take a picture together and it went viral immediately.

He's also the one that helps them build a magicam account, robin Yuu upload some of their music there and it reaches one of the music Billboards and that's when multiple record studios started to reach for them. By using their power of the Harmony they managed to sign in a contract with a trustworthy record studio. They also upload some of their daily lives on magicam group photos of the first years at lunch, hanging out with their friends and others.

By this point robin!Yuu has reach over 5 million followers in the past few days, even vil is impressed. Vil wanted robin yuu to transfer into pomifiore because he found them more suitable in pomifiore than in ramshackle as well, he originally disproven of the first years due to their personality. And during one time he saw the run down ramshackle dorm because he wanted to visit them for some advice. He immediately asks the robin yuu to pack up their stuff and move to pomifiore there's no way a person can live in such conditions, but after some renovation he obligated but said pomifiore is always open for them. Too bad the pomifiore robe he prepared for them is going to waste.

If you don't know Robin!yuu have 4 wings two sets of wings in the side of their head and the other two in their back. But they usually hide these wings due to the size of them being large to expand thru a lunch table, grim will usually have them transporting both of them around school, it's not a surprising sight to see them flying around the school to get to their class. It's notify that robin!yuu wings are a light shade of purple and it's described to glow.

Robin!Yuu has the ability to summon a microphone and use the power of the Harmony to enhance their teammates magical and physical capabilities to 25%. By utilizing the ability of the Harmony, robin!yuu can create life forms ( doves ) as well as constructing any object they desire.

It's known that their voice has the ability to unite and resonate every life forms into Harmony, the stronger the resonance the stronger their ability of the Harmony will become making their teammates 25% - 50%.

During the VDC show, robin is tasked to be the host by Crowley, they are also allowed to sneak in a small opening performance, during the start of the VDC the lights turn off and robin!yuu will fall and spread their wings causing the crowd to cheer in astonishment. They greet the audience and will start the VDC by greeting themselves and sing one of their famous songs. And then the VDC will soon officially start.

Or during their introduction flight, a flight stairs similar to robin ultimate appear and robin!yuu landed in the center and started singing.

During their performance a certain RSA student looks at them with admiration in their eyes unable to take his eyes off them. His princess.

After their performance neige will try to approach them but they were covered by the first years as well some famous photographers trying to get their autographs or comments. But he manages to get some alone time with them during their break He asks for a selfie with robin!yuu while stuttering and they agree. Soon they both gave each other their phone numbers and started to have a conversation unfortunately robin!yuu still have some duties as a host but their talk was caught short, but for him it was heavenly.

After their bomb of a popularity will become one of the largest idols in twst, many sponsorship, as well as movie casting for their participation. Their old lives are back. But still they dearly miss their brother Always wondering whether or not his safe or not.

The headmaster of RSA once sent them a letter asking if they ever had a feeling of discomfort in NRC, they will receive a full scholarship into the school recommended by the princes in the school. Crowley ripped that letter from their hands into a million pieces since due to their uprising popularity NRC has become more well known and started to receive more money and students for the upcoming years.

[dabi-drift]

Rayne Ames x Reader (Mashle: Magic and Muscles):

Rayne is very family-oriented, so he needs someone who sees the value in family. He'll plan for children, but it's okay if you don't want them; a family of two is still a family.

And with no division of love, he can have you all to himself. He can dote on you. He wants to build a life together, and as long as you're there, that's enough for him. He won't ask for more.

Oh, but not liking rabbits is a deal-breaker.

You're his first partner, and the only one he'll ever want.

Your love empowers him. It makes him feel like he can do the impossible. If you want something that doesn't exist, he'll find it. To disappoint you would be the gravest sin, and you deserve better. He'll go to the ends of the earth and walk through Hell for you. He'll be the shield that protects your happiness and your smile.

If you have pets, Rayne has bought bunny ears for them (he has a pair for you, as well).

You definitely run his fanclub.

Jealousy isn't included in his catalogue of emotions, but anger takes its place, and you know how to rile him up. His glare makes you swoon, and he's so dreamy when he's calling people trash and stomping on them ♡

Like when you get 'overly-friendly' with someone, he'll give you a light reprimand. He'll push you up against a wall, squeeze your wrists and kiss you. It's him saying, 'Pay more attention to me.' But he'll never use force. He'll treat you like glass.

He loves having a monopoly over your heart. He loves to kiss your neck and feel you shiver against his lips. He loves to see himself reflected in your eyes. He loves to hold your hand, because it keeps you close to him and calms his every rage.

He loves to do things for you, to be a gentleman, and to try to be the kind of man you deserve.

He wants to be your love that comes around once in a lifetime.

[vermilionstarlight]

Made because I'm bored on the shitter. No shapeshifting because I know this website and I know my sphere of influence and it'll automatically sweep.

A statistically significant portion of you are transgender / therian / queer / autistic / otherkin weirdo freaks (affectionate) (loving) (I fit almost all of these descriptors wholly or partially)

OVERLY DETAILED ELABORATION BELOW THE CUT:

1. Flying - Top speed of Mach 1. You're immune to the negative effects of G force on your body, low pressure environments, low oxygen, low temperatures, and damage from air resistance.

2. Amphibious - Your swimming is not enhanced (you must learn to swim, same as anyone). Any water inhaled is magically turned into breathable air as it passes through your mouth or nose. You are immune to pressures up to and exceeding that of the Marianas trench, low deep-sea temperatures, and the bends. Wildlife that would otherwise be aggressive or dangerous will simply ignore you, and venom from aquatic or semi-aquatic creatures will not affect you. Basically, you're safe from hazards unless you explicitly attack something.

3. Teleport - You have the ability to place the portals (similar to those from the popular video game Portal) at your choosing, and they can be placed at any point in space that you can see. It can be any 2D shape, so long as it fits within the area of a five m^2 square. You can 'bind' the portal to an object (car, wall, article of clothing, yourself), or you can simply have it freestanding in the air and be stationary relative to the Earth's surface. You can only place two pairs of portals at a time. If you attempt to place a new pair, you must choose an existing pair to remove. If you close or remove a portal while something is passing through it, it shears that thing perfectly in two. You can't open a portal in a position or orientation that would have it intwrsect with a solid object, only liquids, gases, or plasma.

4. Time Loop - You can start a time loop of indefinite length at any time. It resets whenever you wish, or when you die, whichever comes first. You can end the current loop at any time, or begin a new loop with a new start point and reset interval/reset condition at any time. You can only have one 'start point' at any given time.

5. Telepathy - At any time, you can think of a specific person and project a thought, concept, emotion, or sensory experience into their mind. Once you do this, it establishes a connection that the recipient can use to transmit in the same fashion. You can create telepathic "group chats" between people, with a maximum of 10 participants (including you). Any participant can exit the connection at any time.

6. Inventory - When you're touching an object, you can will it into an extra-dimensional space. There are no weight or size limits. You can store singular discrete objects, containers and their contents, and "piles" of objects (like a mound of dirt). You cannot store living organisms, meaning any object put into your storage is 100% sterilized. Non-living organic matter (vegetable matter, meat, bone, dead bacteria) can still be stored. You can mentally access this space at any time, and can get a complete mental inventory of everything stored inside it at any time. Time doesn't pass for anything stored in this space, and qualities like arrangement and temperature are preserved. Whenever you wish, you can retrieve an object from the space, and it appears as it was when you stored it, and in any orientation you wish, so long as it's touching you as it comes out (e.g. it comes out of the space in your palm, at your fingertip, on top of your head, touching your ankle, etc.). If you attempt to retrieve an object in an orientation that would make it intersect with anything solid, the retrieval attempt fails.

7. Invisibility - You can, at any time, choose to switch between being visible and being invisible. This does not affect the way light interacts with you, but instead makes it so that anyone perceiving you will contextualize you as not being there, and never having been there recently. The fact that you are walking around, talking, and interacting with the world around them does not change that you are not there to them. Light still reflects off of you and hits their eyes, but they will simply be unaware of the fact that someone walked into the gas station two minutes ago and is standing in front of them right now. Because the you are not there at that moment, most suspicious activities do not register to anyone perceiving you, because you aren't present to them at that moment, and people that are not present aren't able to do things.

8. Healing - When you touch an organism, you are able to heal it of any given perceived malady, affliction, or harmful effect. This relies on the perception of the one receiving the healing, not on the perception of you, the healer. Cancer, aging, alzheimer's, even relatively "minor" afflictions like male pattern baldness or a mild tendency towards pimples. There's no specific limit, so long as the receiver perceives it to be bad or harmful. This also can heal congenital disorders. Specific afflictions can be targeted, so a "full heal" isn't always necessary. If you want to heal someone of a spinal disorder, but they were also raised Catholic and perceive their sexual desires to be inherently harmful and sinful and in need of removal, you as the healer can choose to only heal the former and not the latter, if you are uncomfortable with that. If somebody wishes to have their hearing damage healed, but they are also a paraplegic and consider that to be an important part of their person-hood that shouldn't be changed, it's possible to target specifically the hearing damage and not the paralysis. This ability is also able to affect mental afflictions, chemical imbalances, and the like. This will change the receiver's mind to be in line with whatever they consider to be "healthy," relative to their perceived affliction. It is not possible to apply healing without the desire of the receiver. Verbal consent is not required, only conscious desire for the affliction to be remedied. It's supernatural bullshit, so there's no gray areas. If they would have said yes to an explicit question of consent, you're able to do it even without verbal consent. If they would have said no, then you aren't able. This is specifically to allow emergency life-saving healing, in the case of someone being unable to explicitly verbally consent. Morally dubious, but generally very helpful. Also, so long as you and nobody you care about are killed instantly (or killed too far away for you to heal in time), you and everyone you care about is immortal for as long as any individual desires.

9. Mind-Reading - You are able to non-consensually probe the mind of anyone you can directly see (television screens do not count, there must be direct sight-line between you and the target). You can see any memories they have, though the clarity and veracity of these memories is context-dependent. You can glean their immediate surface thoughts, and you can perceive through their subjective experience. You aren't immediately made aware of their deepest most subconscious desires, but you can analyze and infer from their thoughts and memories to deduce such things. Unless you're skilled in self-reflection and psychology, it won't be easy to immediately understand their entire person-hood. This may be morally dubious at best, but it can be useful for vigilantism and the like, depending on your moral allowance for such things.

10. Skill Retention - Your brain just works better when it comes to getting better at mundane skills. You are not supernaturally more capable than a normal human, you are just able to rapidly get better at things within normal human limits. Skills come easier to you, and not just things like "playing the piano" or "throwing objects" or something. You also find it easier to improve with critical thinking skills, emotional awareness, general kinesthetic coordination, and other such things. Additionally, you retain these skills far better than a normal person can. You don't easily "get rusty" with any sort of skill unless you go entirely unpracticed for decades. You can learn how to perform advanced acrobatics, go unpracticed for 15 years, then pick it back up at almost the exact same level of technical skill. Some tasks require more than just skill and mental capacity, like sports, and you're granted no special ability to get more physically capable. However, this ability does make it significantly easier to learn how to keep yourself disciplined and stick to a routine, allowing you to become more physically capable anyways. You are the most average superhero ever.

11. Clairsentience - You are able to create a supernatural, intangible "camera" whenever you like. You can perceive sounds and sights through this camera, even if you are physically deaf or blind. Your brain functioning is changed so you're able to adequately process two simultaneous sets of sensory input without biologically blue-screening. You can move the camera around as you please, with no range limit, and it's able to move at speeds up to 0.99c (99% of light speed). You can spy on anything, anywhere, whenever you want. Spy on billionaires, spy on political backroom deals, spy on your asshole neighbor to steal their Dropout password.

12. Animal Speech - You can intuitively communicate with and understand any and all animals. Animals that are solitary and lack much social capacity like tigers, polar bears, and some shark species will mostly make for boring and/or antagonistic conversation, though they'll still be able to transmit and receive basic emotions and concepts (territory, fear, food, bright, dark, baby, sex). More social animals, like many canines and felines, will be far better conversation. They still don't have the complex language capacity of a human, but they'll be more amiable even if they aren't generally able to handle more complex concepts. Very intelligent and social animals like crows, orcas, or elephants will likely be mostly comparable to a full human person in terms of conversation, if not functionally the same. They have generally better language capacity than many other animals, and complex social intelligence.

[goldsbitch]

Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2

[melodic-haze]

Arlecchino with a dom filthy rich reader. Reader showers her with lots of gifts on a daily basis. Jewelry, clothes, you name it. Reader would buy it all for her. Arlecchino is spoiled rotten by reader. Arlecchino would always say how reader doesn't need to give her gifts everyday. She finds it unnecessary but the way Arlecchino would wear those expensive outfits and jewelry as Reader fucks her says otherwise.

[Sorry for my bad English]

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap

☆ — NOTES: NOOO DON'T BE SORRY DUDE❗️❗️ It's easy to understand and it got the point across, this is actually pretty good english :333 gonna tell you rn it's so much better than the english from people where I'm at 😭 actually atrocious

Arlecchino would ABSOLUTELY try and refuse your gifts at first, saying that she has no need for such material things when she already has you :333 (could not be my ass I'm so money-oriented it's so bad LMAOOO)

You have money to burn though—you can so easily buy your lover whatever she may want without needing to look at the price!!! You wanna spoil this woman in a way that she had never been spoiled before, so you pay attention to her likes and dislikes, take notes on her preferences, buy things that link with your observations and/or remind you of her

Eventually though Arlecchino would come to accept that buying her things, especially when they're so expensive, is one of the many ways that you show love. Far be it for her to reject your gifts when you've taken the time to pick them out with her in mind, even if yeah she says it's unnecessary. If it's coming from you then why would she refuse???

I think she'd initially like. Not wear them though 😞 not bc she's ungrateful, but bc she personally thinks whatever you've bought her doesn't suit her unless it's something practical. This ESPECIALLY applies to jewellery bc like. It's. An accessory. She doesn't really need it in her life, does she???? But she warms up to it :33333

The jingle of the precious necklace around her slender neck definitely helps with convincing that perhaps such gifts were okay.

It was a custom-made gift crafted using the finest metals, notably the highest-quality starsilver one could find in Dragonspine's unstable landscape. Perhaps you could have bought something much more.. easily produced such as gold, but you didn't—couldn't—settle for less when it came to the prime target of your bountiful affection and the person who was in need of true love.

Though you admit, it wasn't because of the item's worth that had you wanting for a custom gift for your paramour, no. Rather, your thoughts had often wandered to the crafted image of a red glow illuminating pale skin, along with how beautiful a sight it must be.

And when you see the magical jewels reflect its crimson light on Arlecchino's naked skin, when the chains clink quietly as the pendant bounces on top of her chest, you pride yourself in being right as you smirk and continue to fuck her with your faux appendage.

Your hand went to graze her neck, fingers trailing down as you slowed your efforts. It would have been nice to overwhelm her, to fill her over and over until she forgot herself, but you adored the view you were blessed with right this very moment. Despite how formidable this woman was, you still managed to leave her grasping for breath, glistening chest heaving as her necklace followed suit.

Such a thought itself had prompted you to reach for the camera on the bedside table before taking a quick picture. She would often question your want to capture her visage in such an unruly state but really, you can't help it!

After all, she looks positively delightful, all dressed up and gilded with your money.

My GOD being rich would also mean you can do that thing where like you rip the clothes off bc you got way too excited. She'd ask you why you did that but then you can easily tell her that you'll buy her another one and more 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ full disclosure heat shot up to her very core at the display ☺️

This is like the greatest sort of ask I've ever had bc I LOVEEEEE jewellery just saying

I read something somewhere about how if you buy your partner a necklace or smth then it's like you're binding them to you. Like a collar but a lot more innocent unless yk you WANT it to be less-than-innocent

Buying her all these things being not just a way to show your love but also to show ownership is kinda crazy in a hot way, and really why wouldn't you?? When she's this formidable and Beautifully Handsome figure, why wouldn't you want to show off the fact that she's fully and utterly yours???? Just clocking onto how perhaps her children point out that the sparkles make her look brighter, or how random people may stop and stare at the shimmering pendant on her neck and knowing that you've given her whatever bounties she could ever ask for (if she wanted to ask) is!!!! Definitely A Feeling 😋😋😋

BONUS if the necklace itself is sturdy too. You'd have to think of how she would much prefer practicality, so you've made sure the metal is STRONG and REINFORCED enough to withstand force........esp when you go to tug on it harshly like a collar. Bc really at the end of the day, that's what this is—the only difference is an actual collar would be thick and would wrap around the neck while a necklace is thin and hangs loosely

In any case you tug on it harshly, bring her even closer and more personal as you start drilling into her again, and it lifts her up instead of breaking thank god ☺️☺️☺️ and she does NOTHING but take what you give her!!!!! She hangs there like a ragdoll, eyes glazed over as little grunts and quiet moans escape her lips before you hit that One Spot at that certain and then suddenly her hands are grasping onto you frantically :3

And at daily life THEN that's when she starts fully accepting your gifts and wearing it without feeling like she's extorted you somehow. When people ask her about it, she'll say that she got it all from her lover before looking at you with a tint of red on her cheeks, remembering the times when you've fucked her to the point where she felt like an object herself 🫶

[aardwolfpack]

Japanese and American title screens.

[randomness-is-my-order]

the pjo show’s cinematography is so warm and homey and clever and detail-oriented so i wanna compile a few of my favourite still shots because why not??

^this one had me smiling so hard, not because it’s a particularly beautiful shot but the framing of the three is so well done. the focus is on sally who is talking to grover (both prominently in the front of the shot) while percy – who isn’t a part of the conversation but a listener of it – is still properly visible through the glass of the door and like??? i just think it’s a super cool way of having a passive character in the shot that i haven’t ever seen before, in a way that percy is both highlighted and still so clearly in the background that it doesn’t take away from the focus characters. also percy’s sweater matching the colours on the door is the cherry on top!!

^next is this one. it’s so perfectly angsty and though not complete, the symmetry is still eye-catching. it encapsulates the feeling percy must experience in that moment–him, amidst destruction, knowing he’s the cause but not knowing how or why. he looks all of twelve with his haphazard hoodie and almost forlorn look. he is not gloating, he is not cheerful. though he doesn’t know the gravity of his parentage, it’s almost like the show is telling us that his powers–which cause the door to break, too btw–will always be a source of isolation for percy. he is a force of nature, a destructive one most of the time, and the fact that he is just a child who is confused will never matter because this world doesn’t care for childhood but godhood alone.

idk, this shot just evokes a very unsettling kind of sadness for me. i think it’s beautifully framed.

^i absolutely love this one simply for the fact that the sheer struggle of the fight is so prominently visible. and yes, i cheated, this isn’t exactly a still shot but like an action sequence screenshot but whatever, it’s too good to not mention it here. the way percy is, honest to gods, bracing against the spear for his dear life, the evident and overwhelming rage on clarisse’s face, the blocking of the scene – it’s perfect. clarisse is not playing and percy is genuinely in danger and i love how this shot and the whole scene really sold us on that fact.

^ i just think it’s extremely cool that we can see the minotaur howling in pain, percy having his mouth wide open as if he’s letting out a yell as he goes to plunge the horn and that as percy does this act–killing the minotaur–which is surefire source of safeguarding himself and grover, something that will get him to camp, we can see thalia’s tree in the background. there is no reason percy had to make the kill here, with the chaos of the fight, so the fact that this is the spot and this is the shot as he kills the minotaur makes me think it’s deliberate. having thalia in the background is so impactful because again, percy could have met a similar fate in some other alternate universe but here, he wins and he survives.

^ do i even need to explain??? the shot is pretty and beautiful and almost magical. percy, alone with a tin of fire, burning blue food and talking to his mother. maybe one thing i can point out is that the sally-percy bond has been heavily indicated through glowing lights since the start. if you recall, the “you are not broken” speech by sally was given in front of the warm, glowing headlights of the car and percy’s face was illuminated by that warmth just the same way it is illuminated by the tin-fire in the forest.

^ first, this is too fucking gorgeous. second, percy is wearing his red jacket again and this dream happened after he reached camp so in my opinion, this dream was initially a comfortable imagining of percy’s mind and was then hijacked by kronos but i could be wrong since i don’t clearly remember how they manifested in the books originally. nevertheless, it’s a great detail to have him wear the red jacket because even if he may not have it with him anymore, it’s still clearly something he holds dear – and might associate sally’s memories with.

also, the fact that percy seems to have alot of scenes with fire might be because as someone who can control water, fire can never truly be a source of danger for him and therefore, he can find comfort in its warmth unhindered, always?

^ how could i not love this epic moment? the trident is perfect, big and blue and grand and majestic. half the screen is water, obviously. but what makes this good shot a great one is that there is literally no one else directly near percy except annabeth. the campers are all far away and in this shot itself only annabeth remains close to percy, though she is fittingly on the land, observing the scene before her. remember how i said percy’s legacy promises isolation but this shot tells me that despite that, percy will have someone who he can count on to be by his side (also cool that even in the bathroom, annabeth was technically still near him, even if she was, well, stalking him) and maybe this is my delusional ass talking, but annabeth being here is foreshadowing for me. i just think it’s a choice to have this epic revelation where they could easily have had percy standing alone in the middle of the lake but no, annabeth is also there and not only because she’s the one who led to that revelation but because she’s someone who isn’t intimidated by percy’s parentage and still can be beside him.

^ i adore this shot because 1) it shows us just how young and tiny percy is and 2) it tells us that maybe that door is so fucking huge because it’s being inclusive of centaurs and other giants of their world. also, symmetry strikes again!!! the colours are so well balanced, not bright and vibrant but on the pastel side that indicates an aged feel to them.

and lastly,

^ i just find it funny that a private academy like yancy has an official vehicle that looks as beat up and terribly malfunctioning as this. 😭 like this half van was so out of place i literally goggled at the screen when it first appeared.

okay, i’m done for now. i also really liked the faceless sally scene in the start paralleling medusa’s eventual beheading but i already made a post about it. this legitmately only covers about 10% of the shots i wanted to talk about but these might be my favourites. this was long af so if you read the whole thing, mad respect to you.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Let Your Heart Be Light

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria Era

Warnings: None

Summary: You want to make the holidays something special for Daryl. Throw in a little Christmas magic and it just might mean something more to you too.

*gif is not mine

This run hadn’t been about gathering supplies or intel. This run had been about making a holiday for Judith. The adults understood that just being alive and together were gifts. But little Jude? Smart as she was— and she was smart —hadn’t yet grasped that concept. 

Things had already been gathered for her by everyone else, but Daryl had never really celebrated as a kid. Never gave gifts or received them. Before Alexandria, there was never a reasonable sense of safety that allowed for celebration. This would be a first for the archer. When you asked what he had found or made for the little girl he so obviously adored, he had appeared gutted. Of course, you had offered to go with him and help him find something. 

The sky was thick with purple clouds as you burrowed into Daryl’s back and tilted your face upward just enough to watch the puffs of lavender magic float carelessly across the limitless expanse. The wind was icy but the elements never seemed to bother the hunter. You, on the other hand, were freezing your proverbial balls off. Your heavy jacket, gloves, scarf, and toboggan hat did little against the onslaught. You couldn’t help but wonder how Daryl hadn’t turned into an ice archer. You also weren’t above pondering why the fuck he had insisted on taking the motorcycle!

When the bike rolled to a stop outside a little strip mall, you could hardly wait to jump off. You squealed about your ass being numb and zipped past him and up to the first door. Daryl started to intervene but swiftly shut his mouth when you acted accordingly, tapping the blade of your knife against the window to lure any walkers. 

When none shuffled forward, you gave him a thumbs up. “You start on that side, I’ll go here. Look for coloring books, crayons, stuffed animals. Nothing with small pieces that she could choke on.” You advised, watching him nod blankly. You smiled at his adorable cluelessness and ducked inside, willingly leaving him on his own. Usually you would pester him to stay together but you had your own search to conduct. Judith wasn’t the only one getting a gift this year. 

You did intend to help Daryl as you’d promised, but you had some selfish reasons for coming along as well. You hadn’t heard if anyone else had come up with something for the archer, but you sure as shit would. He was your best friend. Your person. This would be the start of happy memories for the season.

None of you could be sure when Christmas actually was but hell, it didn’t really matter at the end of the world. Decorations had been found here and there, enough to decorate Rick and Michonne’s house. You’d all gather there so it made the most sense. 

The store you had chosen appeared to have once been a pawn shop. Toys were in abundance so you took a moment to grab a babydoll and a stuffed monkey before heading to the display cases. The glass had long ago been broken and weapons all swiped. That wasn’t what you were looking for anyway. You wanted something less—violence oriented. No jewelry either. He wasn’t the type. You would know the perfect gift when you saw it. 

And you did. 

Grabbing it up, you stuffed it and the toys into your rucksack and headed to the next mall space, hoping it held what you needed to go along with the first present. Considering how certain items were treated like gold in those times, you didn’t hold your breath. 

You had to be sneaky or Daryl might catch on, considering the type of store. You watched for him while repeating the process to check for walkers. Met with silence, you ducked inside. Pickings were slim— almost nonexistent—just as you’d expected. You had just allowed yourself to be bummed when you spotted one peeking out from beneath the counter. After a short happy dance, you hid this one in your bag as well.  You grabbed a few newspaper pages to use as wrapping paper and started to open the door when you saw the archer walk by and into the pawn shop you had just vacated. 

Perfect!

Stepping outside, you moved off the walkway and waited for him. He emerged a moment later, looking a little concerned. 

“Thought ya’d still be in there.” He huffed, holding out two coloring books—one of safari animals and the other, Dora the Explorer—and a box of crayons with two missing. 

“Were you worried, mister Dixon?” You smiled sweetly while taking the items to place in your bag. “Hey!” You dissolved into giggles when he pulled the front of your toboggan hat down over your face. He was already walking back toward the back by the time you fixed it. “I found a couple of toys too!”

“Got what we came for.” He swung a leg over to straddle the bike and waited for you to climb on. “Let’s head back. Snow’s comin’.” You grumbled and secured your scarf around the majority of your face. “S’the matter? Don’t like snow?”

“I love snow. Just not on a motorcycle.”  Taking your place behind him, you wrapped your arms around his middle and went ahead with burying your face in his back. You felt more than heard his chuckling. 

Without a way to predict the weather, there was no way of knowing that scattered flurries would soon turn into a complete whiteout. Daryl had pushed the bike as far as he could before the snow on the ground became too dense. You hated watching him leave it behind, but if he was distraught, he didn’t show it. 

You both had your packs, yours full of gifts and Daryl’s stuffed with a little food, a canteen, and scant medical supplies. You’d be okay for a day or two until the weather cleared. You had radioed home while the archer brought the fireplace to life. Your signal was choppy but the message was received. 

A little while later, the snow was surging down outside, making it impossible to see even the trees that were littered around the small cabin the two of you had stumbled upon. Literally. You’d almost walked into the side of it with the limited visibility. 

Your coats were hanging up near the fire to dry. You had a small meal of jerky and an apple. Now the two of you sat quietly, the silence not uncomfortable. You were bummed that you couldn’t make it back for Daryl to give Judith the gifts. More disappointed for him, really. This was supposed to give him good memories. 

Your gaze left the winter wonderland on steroids to shift over where the archer was perched by the fire. He was holding the stuffed monkey while he stared into the flames. Standing from the chair by the frosty window, your bare feet hardly made a sound as you padded across the room to sit cross-legged by his knees. 

“Don’t be sad.” You folded your hands on his thigh and rested your chin on them, looking up at him from under your lashes. 

Those ice blue eyes slid over to you and held your gaze before he looked away with a dismissive pfft, tossing the stuffed animal on top of his rucksack. “Ain’t sad.”

The smile you gave him was soft, sympathetic. “Yeah, you are. But you shouldn’t be. She’ll be just as excited tomorrow as she would have been today.” Your head tilted, smile broadening. “Judith doesn’t care what day you give her a gift. You’re Uncle Daryl. She’ll beam at you like you hung the moon no matter what.”

One corner of his mouth ticked upward. He hummed and ruffled your hair, the other side of his lips mirroring its counterpart. Sitting back, you swatted his hands away with an exaggerated series of waves. 

“We can still make this special.” Teeth worried your bottom lip but you fought to push down the anxiety slithering around in your tummy. When the archer tilted his head, waiting for an explanation, you crawled across the floor and reached into your bag. The newspaper wrapping was sloppy with no tape or bows to make it nice but it was the end of the world. You worked with what you had. Shuffling back to him on your knees, you sat back on your heels and held out the black and white papered mess. “Here.”

His face was unreadable, that scowl firmly in place as he stared at your offering. You would have felt dejected had you not seen the myriad of emotions steadily streaming through those pretty blue eyes. After what felt like hours, Daryl cleared his throat and reached for the wadded mess. 

“Ya didn’t—uh—ya didn’t hafta do nothin’ like this.” It was easy to discern the slight tremor in his hands. 

“Yeah, I did. I wanted to.” You wiggled back and forth, both eager and nervous for him to unwrap it. When he just held it, you stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh—” The archer carefully lowered the gift to his lap but kept his hands around it, his thumb rubbed back and forth across the newspaper. “Never really had stuff like this growin’ up—presents an’ shit.”

Rubbing your lips together, you placed a hand on his knee, just beside the gift. He didn’t look away from it. “Just open it when you’re ready. I’m in no hurry.” Keeping your hand where it was, you maneuvered into your previous position: cross-legged with your chin on the very edge of his leg. 

He was committing the moment to memory. You could tell by the way he studied the object, tilting it back and forth just so. But this is what you wanted; to break through the past he had suffered with thoughts of a future full of new memories to make. And to share. 

He cleared his throat again. It was then that you noticed the shine of moisture holding steady on his waterline. “I—got ya, uh—I got ya somethin’ too.” He balanced the gift on his lap with one hand and dug around in his pocket before finally pulling out a small, blue drawstring bag. So much hesitance; he started to hand it over before pulling it back. He did that three more times before he allowed you to take it. 

Now, your eyes began to leak. “Oh, Daryl.” You pulled the little bag toward you and pressed it against your chest. Whatever was concealed inside was hard and twisted but you didn’t venture to guess. You wanted complete surprise. 

His eyes flitted between your gift and his. Still, he made no move to open his own. The present you’d given him was quite a bit larger. Maybe he was worried that that somehow bothered you. When he finally looked up at you, your heart clenched. He was adorably lost. 

“Open it?” You suggested gently, lowering your hands to your lap with the small bag visible in your cupped palms. He was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip for several seconds before he slowly began to unfold the paper. You watched with bated breath as the items were revealed, studying his demeanor as discreetly as possible. If he didn’t like it, you wanted to know for next year. 

Next year. A bittersweet thought. How many of you would even still be there to see it? You minutely shook away the distressing notion and just in time, too. 

The corners of his mouth slowly lifted into the smallest yet most genuine smile you’d ever seen him wear. A calloused finger traced over the image of a motorcycle on the shiny Zippo. There was a carton of cigarettes and a small container of lighter fluid as well but the lighter had his complete attention. 

“Now look, mister. I don’t condone your habit but I figure we all need our guilty pleasures now more than—”

“Thank you.” So soft that you barely heard it. 

You melted in an instant into a gentle smile that he didn’t see, hiding behind a fringe of dark hair. “You’re welcome.” You waited him out. He was having a hard time with the entire concept and you may have heard a quiet sniffle but no, you didn’t. 

“Ya gonna,” he cleared his throat and sniffed, “ya gonna open yours?” You looked down at the bag, seeing him wipe his face on the back of his hand from the corner of your eye. You’d never tell him, though. You’d let him keep that one. 

You were careful with your expression, keeping the excited gleam in your eye as you pulled the top of the bag open. It could be an acorn and you’d adore it because it was Daryl who went through the trouble of finding such a pretty little bag for it. Just for you. 

You dipped two fingers inside, curling them around cold metal, prodding your curiosity. What you began to pull out was a thin, braided chain. It was still a shiny silver. You weren’t even sure what it was made from and it didn’t matter. It would remain around your neck even if your skin turned green. Still, once the entire thing was revealed, it wasn’t the chain that held your focus. 

Your inquisitive gaze lifted to find his cheeks a shade of pink and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“S’a—well, s’a hex nut.” Your head tilted. “From my bike.”

You stared at him in complete awe, knowing that when he finally looked at you, he was going to panic but you’d settle him once you worked through your own emotions. You carefully placed the chain over the edge of your hand so the nut laid in your palm. It was small with small knicks and dark areas, indicating use. You were so enthralled with it that you didn’t feel the tear escaping down your cheek. 

“Know s’stupid but—” 

His arms shot out to the side when you collided with him, your arms tight around his shoulders and face against his neck. Once the initial surprise had worn off, he wrapped one arm around you and then the other, his cheek against the top of your head. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. “This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” When he huffed out a laugh, you sat back and wiped at your face with the tips of your fingers, the necklace he’d made for you still dangling from your hand. “Don’t say a word. I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass. It’s really the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given.” Your hand traveled out to rest against his cheek. “And I love it. Will you put it on me?” 

“Um, okay.” 

You beamed at him and held out the chain, spinning around and gathering your hair out of the way. Daryl was hesitant, you could just picture him trying to work through how to get it around your neck without invading your space. You knew it was impossible but you’d let him figure that out on his own. 

Finally you felt him reach over your right shoulder, then your left, to part the two ends and pull them back to fasten against the back of your neck. Your breath hitched when his fingertips lingered against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. 

“There ya go.” 

Your skin felt colder when he pulled away but you didn’t linger on it. You turned to face him, holding the piece out so you could look down at it with a brilliant smile. 

“Thank you.” You said again, twisting the gift back and forth. 

“You’re welcome.” He mumbled. 

Shimmying closer, you laid your head against his leg and looked at the fire, fingertips still brushing against the cool metal hanging from your neck. Above you, he was flipping the lid of the Zippo open and closing it repeatedly, as if it was the first one he’d ever seen. You were admittedly surprised he hadn’t already lit up at least three cigarettes.

“You did replace the nut you took from the bike, right?” You erupted into giggles when he bounced his leg and jostled your head.

It was almost comical to you that Daryl was this tough badass but so shy when it came to even someone as close as you were to him. It was incredibly endearing. Tilting your head back, you smiled up at him. He responded by placing his hand over the entirety of your face, his expression remaining neutral. You still saw the twinkle in his eye when you freed yourself. 

Then your smile disappeared, replaced with a sudden look of bewilderment. The archer noticed immediately, brow drawing in concern. 

“What?”

You weren’t looking at him though. You were looking past him, at the ceiling. Slowly you sat up straight, tilting your head while holding your gaze steady. Daryl finally followed your line of sight to the area above your heads. 

There, hanging from the wooden rafters, was a branch of what appeared to be fresh mistletoe. A red bow was tied prettily around the stem. 

“Is that—” You began. 

“—mistletoe.” Daryl finished. 

Both your heads lowered, your eyes meeting. You could tell from the way he looked at you that he wasn’t ignorant of the tradition. Your own cheeks had grown warm just as you watched the subtle flush settle over his. 

You should have been questioning the presence of the plant. How it got there. Why it looked new in an otherwise desolate, dusty cabin. 

But those inquiries paled in comparison to the way Daryl’s eyes flitted down to your lips and back up. 

“Be a shame to go against tradition.” You reasoned. 

“You’re the expert.” He gave a single-shouldered shrug. 

With a soft breath past your lips, you sat up on your knees, inching a little closer. Daryl moved toward the edge of the chair, leaning down slightly. You were so close that you could feel his breath against your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Daryl.”

A beat. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

When your lips met, nothing else mattered. 

Not the snow that now fell in gentle flurries. 

Not the motorcycle that now leaned against the wall just outside. 

And certainly not the bare rafters above your heads where nothing was hanging.  

[darksigns-exe]

strange magic - witch!nick ruffilo x f!reader

warnings: Discussions of mental health, depression, anxiety, mentions of self-harm, knife related injury

word count: 4.2k

notes: I’m reading The Full Moon Coffee Shop by Mai Mochizuki at the moment, and it might have influenced some parts of this.

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

You don’t remember where exactly you’d heard his name for the first time. Someone in your circle of friends had mentioned going to see him about a minor health issue they’d been struggling with and that no conventional doctor had been able to fix. It had taken them one visit to cure said ailment. 

Now, you didn’t expect a miracle cure, but at this point you’d take anything. Whatever it takes to make this feeling disappear. No psychiatrist or therapist had helped, you’d tried everything. 

Magic or something akin to it didn’t seem too unrealistic of an option at this point. Your friend hadn’t been entirely clear on what this guy exactly did or was, all they had mentioned was that his methods were unconventional. 

Armed with the address and maybe a little too much hope, you set off. The place is located in a wooded area, set quite a bit back from the main road. You park near the front of the driveway and walk the rest of the way, just like your friend had told you to do. 

The twisted path that leads you through the woods turns you around entirely, and after a few minutes you have no idea which way you’re oriented or from which direction you’ve come. 

Every step leads you deeper into this forest. As the trees grow taller and thicker, light and warmth become scarce, and you pull your jacket tighter around your body to ward off the chill. 

The path makes another sharp turn and suddenly, you find yourself faced with an almost dream-like glade. Light pours into the space, filling it with warm, golden sunlight. In the middle, sits a lone cottage. It looks a little ramshackle, the roof is tilted in an odd way, and you think that some of the beams must be old and slowly giving into the weight of the roof. There’s something comforting about the place, though. 

The door swings open just as you reach the three steps that lead up the small porch. The glimmering little trinkets and chimes that hang from the roof above it catch your attention. Despite the mass of things that are placed all over the porch and in the windows, it doesn’t feel cluttered. Everything is where it needs to be. 

Your attention is drawn to a sun catcher that seems to be made out of broken pieces of coloured glass and mirror. The little specks of sunlight it scatters all across you and the space around you are mesmerising. Perhaps you should find one like this for your own home. 

“Pretty isn’t it?” someone speaks from behind you and you find yourself twitching with panic. 

When you turn around, you find that the source of the voice is a young man with dark hair. He squints at you for a moment, before an apologetic smile works its way onto his face, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Would you like to come in?” You’re sure that this isn’t the man you’re supposed to see, he seems way too young to be some kind of miracle healer. Maybe he’s an apprentice or other kind of aide to this Nicholas. 

You follow him into the cabin. The inside is surprisingly simple, yet incredibly inviting. Most of the space is taken up by a large wooden table. It has dents and scratches in its surface that tell more stories than any person could. Warm light floods through the room, but you can’t find a single light source. The fireplace can’t be responsible for all the light in here. 

“Sit. Please.” he motions towards one of the chairs by the table. 

You hang your jackets over the back of the chair before you sit. He doesn’t sit, instead he walks over to the wooden counter. You watch as he searches through one of the shelves, until he produces two mismatched cups and saucers. 

“I hope you found the place alright?” he asks, as he picks up a variety of tins from a different shelf. 

“A friend of mine came here a few weeks ago and her directions were pretty good.” you reply.

He nods sagely, as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. 

“Your friend is feeling better? Her condition was quite worrisome.”

“It’s almost as if she was never unwell.” 

Your answer brings a smile to his face, “That’s good to hear. I don’t usually get to hear about the people who come here after they leave.”

He walks towards the fireplace and with the help of a seemingly hand knit pot holder, he retrieves the kettle hanging in front of it. He then proceeds to fill both cups with water before returning the kettle to its previous place. 

He places one of the cups in front of you, while the other is placed in front of the seat to your right at the head of the table. 

“So – you heard that your friend found the aid they needed here and decided that you would follow in their footsteps and find me. What can I do for you?”

“You are Nicholas?” you finally ask as the puzzle begins to make sense. 

His cheeks tinge the faintest shade of pink, “My apologies. Nick is perfectly fine. Nicholas always creates that image of a wise old wizard, and I’m —” he looks down his own body, “Not that.” 

The tone of his voice makes you smile. 

There’s something awfully comforting about him. Something about him sets you at ease, despite the deep-rooted worry that sits in your chest.  

“Can I see your palm?” Nick asks gently, holding out his tattooed hand to you. 

You place your hand, palm facing up, in his and he carefully pulls your hand a little closer to him. He tilts your hand for a moment, as if he is searching for something specific. The pointer finger of his other hand traces across the lines and creases in your hand with a barely there touch. 

The noise he eventually lets out feels a little unsatisfied. 

“The metaphysical can tell us a lot. But it is not without faults. It doesn’t take an expert to see that whatever it is that worries you has been with you for a long time. I can do a lot of things, dear, but I cannot magic away feelings and emotions.” He says eventually, “I can however try to help you find the root of this. That is the best I can offer you.”

For a moment, you feel defeated. Another person who wouldn’t be able to help. At this point, it really does feel a little hopeless. The darkness slowly creeps into your vision, that awful tightness returns to your chest. You can feel yourself getting dizzy and –

And then Nick’s hand curls around yours. It doesn’t stop the panic entirely, but his touch slowly the creeping darkness significantly. 

“Try to breathe. You’re safe here.” his voice soothes your nerves, wraps around you like honey, “Only very few people have left this place without an answer to their question, and I don’t think that you will be one of them.”

You don’t know why, but you want to believe him. 

“So many people said that they could help, but nothing ever came of it.” you say quietly, “I just want to stop feeling this way.” 

Nick lets out a heavy sigh, “I know what it feels like to feel left alone. If I could, I would take all of it away. But unfortunately, in this case, altering the mind is not something I’m allowed to do. I will try to help you as best as I can, though.” 

He gives your hand a little squeeze, before he releases it again.

Nick is silent for a moment, seemingly mulling through his thoughts. He gets up then. The scrape of his chair against the wooden floor takes you by surprise. He utters a quick apology, before he disappears into a distant corner of the room.

You finally have a moment to inspect the space around you. It’s as close to a witch's hut as you could imagine. Bundles of dried herbs and flowers dangle from the low wooden beams that support the upper level. Every surface is covered in trinkets and items, and you’re sure that they all have their designated spaces. The cobblestone wall above the fireplace is adorned with a pentacle made out of what you think is willow branches. They’re woven around each other to give it more structure, and in the space between the branches small flowers have been placed. You faintly remember reading that pentacle being are used for protection. 

Your eyes drift across the cluttered table in front of you and eventually land on your still steaming cup of tea. You finally take a sip of it. 

The taste of it is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You can’t identify every component of it, and really it doesn’t matter too much. All you know is that it feels like a long overdue hug. The first sip is enough to fill you with a comfortable warmth, like rays of sun falling through the trees on the first warm morning of spring. 

You take another sip, once again savouring the subtle sweetness of the tea. You’ll have to ask Nick what’s in this. 

Nick is still out of sight somewhere, but you can hear him rummaging around in the distance. You’d expect yourself to feel uncomfortable being somewhat alone in a stranger's house, but everything about this place felt so comforting that you couldn’t possibly feel out of place. 

Something catches your attention then. The quiet scratching of claws against wood, followed by a slightly croaky purr makes you scan across the space to find the source of it. Your eyes land on the tuxedo cat that emerges from the lower compartment of one of the many overstuffed bookshelves. The cat stretches and shakes itself before it looks around the room for a moment. It wanders under the table, and you freeze up, trying not to scare it away. When you peek under the table, you see the cat coming towards you. It takes a moment to inspect you, before it moves past you pressing its body against your calf. 

You hear the cat hop onto something behind you. Turning around to check, you see that it has settled onto a pillow on the windowsill, lounging in the little sliver of sunlight that falls through the window there. 

Nick returns a little while later, carrying a few books in his arms. He stops, cocks his head to the side, and then smiles. You realise then that he’s not looking at you, but the cat.

“Now you show your face.” he shakes his head, “Where were you when I could have used your help, huh? Out fraternising with that damn vampire's cat, I bet.” 

He sets the books down on the table. 

“That’s Jerry. He’s supposed to be helpful.” he says, glaring at the cat, “He doesn’t usually show his face when I have visitors. Looks like a good omen to me.” 

Nick takes a sip from his own cup. He closes his eyes for a second and lets out a content sigh. 

He files through one of the books, turning the open pages towards you. 

“I can’t make it go away, but I can give you things that might help.” he offers, “How is the tea?”

“It’s really nice. I wanted to ask about it.”

Nick sits up a little straighter then, “Lemon balm, lemon verbena and lavender. I’ll fix up a jar for you to take home.”

He continues to explain a meditation method he’d read about a while ago. Nick shakes off your concern about having tried meditation before. 

“This is different. I think it’s worth a shot. I have some incense somewhere that might help too.” 

That evening, when you drive home, your chest feels a little bit lighter already. Maybe it’s just the idea of someone being so willing to help you. Nick has no ties to you, no reason to be this invested. But he’d still sent you home with a freshly mixed jar of the tea you’d had earlier, a written up version of the meditation technique and several cones of incense with a crescent moon holder. 

You’d also agreed that you’d come back the following week to report back. In the meantime, Nick would do research of his own to see what he could do. 

You’re not sure which of the things helps, but when you set out to see him again a week later, you find yourself feeling actually excited. 

Your visits become more and more frequent. Over the weeks, you learn that Nick doesn’t like to venture into town, and so you offer to take care of his errands there in return for his help. Weekly visits become twice a week, and before you know it, you find yourself stopping by at Nick’s whenever you can.

 Your mental health makes working pretty much impossible, and having something to do again feels genuinely good. On some days, Nick puts you to work in the garden behind the cottage. On others, you get to watch while he works on whatever it is he does in the kitchen. 

It’s almost November when he asks you to help him with the apples. 

“What exactly are we making?” you ask as you continue to peel yet another apple. 

“Half of these will be crumble and the rest compote.” 

You turn to watch Nick tip flour into a large ceramic bowl. Your momentary inattentiveness makes your knife slip. You drop it as soon as the pain hits. 

“Shit.” you cry out, wrapping your hand around your pointer finger.

Something behind you clatters, before Nick pushes himself in front of you. 

“Oh no.” he says quietly, pulling a kitchen towel from one of the cabinet handles. 

He presses the towel to your finger, before he steers you over to the large table. 

“Sit.” he urges, “Hold the towel there, I’ll be right back.” 

Nick rushes off into what you now know to be the bathroom. He returns with a few supplies a moment later. He kneels down in front of you, carefully taking your hand into his. 

“Let’s see.” He peels the towel away, and you can’t hold the wince, “I’m sorry, dear. I know.” 

He wipes the wound clean with a fresh towel, careful not to agitate it more. 

“It’ll be good in a moment.” Nick soothes, “Just have to see how bad it is.” 

The sound he makes then tells you that it’s quite bad. 

Nick picks up one of the small tins he brought over from the bathroom. He applies some of the salve to the cut. It stings just a little bit, but not enough to be of note. He wraps a small bit of muslin around your finger, before he takes your hand into his again. You watch as his eyes close and his head drops. You’ve seen Nick work his magic before when Jerry got into scuffles with other animals during his nightly outings, but you had never felt it yourself. 

As his focus narrows down on you, warmth spreads out from your finger. It travels up your arm and through your chest. You can’t take your eyes off him. Nick’s whole body seems to have a faint golden glow to it. 

Just as the warmth threatens to get too intense, it fades out. 

Nick remains with his head bowed for a moment longer. He peels back the muslin. All that remains of the cut is a small crescent moon shaped scar just above the first joint. 

“There you go.” Nick says quietly, “All good.” 

He looks up at you with a soft smile. 

Your heart makes a little thump then. You’d noticed it before when he looks at you. At first, you thought that it was nothing but the beginnings of a good friendship. By now, you are sure that it is so much more than that. But then again, you’ve only known Nick for a little over two months, and you have no idea if that is even something he’s interested in. 

The moment pops when Jerry forces his way between the two of you. He lets out a very displeased sound, making it known that it’s time for him to get attention again. 

Nick huffs out a laugh before he drops his head again. He scratches the top of Jerry's head before he eventually rises from the floor. 

It takes you a moment to catch up with him again. The way he had looked at you still lingers in your mind when you rejoin him in the kitchen. Nick hands you the freshly cleaned knife, and you resume your apple peeling duties as if nothing at all had happened. 

Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon continues without larger incidents. You can’t tell if it’s in your imagination or not, but you think that Nick looks at you more often. And even if he does, you’re sure that it’s just to make sure that you haven’t injured yourself again. Working with him like this is incredibly comfortable. You don’t speak a lot, but you don’t feel as if you need to say a lot either. There’s no pressure to make idle conversation. 

With the crumble finally in the oven and the last jars of compote sealed, you finally sit down in the chair on his front porch. Nick had sent you ahead with a blanket, knowing that you tended to get cold easily. He joins you just a moment a later, with two steaming mugs in his hands. He hands one to you and sets the other down on the rickety little table between the chairs. 

For a while, you sit in silence, enjoying the serenity of the glade. 

You look over at Nick, only to find him shifting uncomfortably. You think that he looks as if he wants to say something, but doesn’t know if he should. And so you reach out, poking your finger into his shoulder. 

“Nick?”

He twitches, head quickly snapping towards you, “Yes dear?” 

“Everything okay?” 

Nick takes a rushed sip of his tea. He contemplates for a moment longer, and you have to admit to yourself that the way his expressions shift as he tries to make up his mind is rather cute. 

“Interrupt me if I’m touching on something off limits.” he begins, “Sometimes when I heal I get glimpses of that person's emotions. It’s nothing deep or elaborate, just a snapshot, if you will. And when I touched you –”

He doesn’t have to finish for you to know what he’s trying to get at. The pang of relief that had hit you when the pain shot through your body still lingered with you. It’s been a while since you’d purposefully taken a blade to your skin. Long enough for you to think that the gratification wouldn’t be there any more. You’d fought so hard to keep yourself from doing it this time. 

You can’t stop yourself from crying then. Nick’s hand curls around yours immediately. He doesn’t try to stop you, doesn’t tell you that it’ll be alright. You’d kept all of these feelings bottled up inside of you for so long, that you couldn’t stop them from bubbling over now. 

Nick lets you cry until the tears stop falling. 

Against what you’d expected, you don’t find pity or worry on his face. He meets you with a warmth that takes some of the ache away. 

You tell him then.

Every detail that you’d hidden so far. The awful memories you’d kept so close to your chest. Even the ones that you’d never felt comfortable enough to share with therapists. 

And Nick listens so patiently. 

For a brief moment, you feel bad for unloading all of this on him, but he quickly dismisses that idea. 

The sun has long disappeared behind the trees when you finish, and you shiver in the cool night air. 

“I don’t think that I’ve ever told anyone all of that.” you finally admit. 

“Thank you for trusting me with it.” Nick replies, squeezing your hand, “I want you to know that you can always come to me. It doesn’t matter what time it is, if you need a friend – someone to talk to – I’m here.” 

Nick offers you to stay at the cottage for the night. He’s adamant that you take his bed, not budging no matter how hard you try to change his mind. While his bed is nice and comfortable, you can’t help but feel bad for him. And after two hours of tossing and turning, you creep down the stairs into the main space of the cottage again. 

You find Nick still awake, buried deep in a book. He looks up when you step onto a particularly creaky tread. 

“Can’t sleep?” he asks, looking up from his book. 

“Could ask you the same.” 

He places the book on the low coffee table in front of the sofa. 

“I just feel bad about making you sleep on the sofa in your own house.” you admit quietly.

“What, you want to cuddle up?” it���s a humorous suggestion, but you can’t deny the appeal of it. 

Nick doesn’t wait for your answer and makes his way towards you. He follows you back up the stairs without another word.

Settling into bed with him is a little awkward at first. Both of you try to find a comfortable spot without getting too close to the other, even when you wouldn’t mind curling up next to him. This time, sleeps finds you easily. 

You wake up to a gloomy morning. The gentle rapping of rain on the roof makes you want to stay in bed for just a while longer. You pull the fluffy duvet around yourself, sinking just a little deeper into the warmth of the bed. You’ve been up in the attic of Nick’s cottage a few times, but never for this long. Just like the rest of the place, it’s so warm and comfortable up here. Most of the wooden cladding is covered with beautiful tapestries that mirror the Persian carpet that fills most of the space. 

Nick is still fast asleep next to you. He looks so peaceful, brow furrowed just a little bit. You almost want to reach out to smooth your thumb over the crease. You don’t want to overstep, though. 

Instead, you crawl out of bed as carefully as you can without waking Nick up. You know that he likes to start his morning with a strong black coffee. Just like you. 

By now you know your way around his kitchen and finding the ceramic filter, coffee grounds and his favourite mug doesn’t take you all too long. Manoeuvring the kettle was a different story, but you manage to make it work. 

By the time you climb back up the steep stairs towards the attic, Nick has already stirred from his slumber. He’s still hidden under the down duvet, but you can hear him quietly talking to Jerry. 

Nick looks up when he hears you approach and flashes you a sweet smile. 

“You’re a darling.” he says softly when you hand him his mug. 

You sit next to him on the bed, once again getting comfy. 

Nick takes a long sip from his coffee, letting out a content sigh. 

“Sleep alright?” he asks then, turning to towards you. 

You nod, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”  

“Of course.” 

You both fall silent for a while, comfortably nursing your coffees. You shuffle a little closer to him, allowing you to rest your head against his shoulder. Nick’s hand finds its way to your legs, resting comfortably above your knee. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel yourself melt on the inside. 

You don’t know where this is going to take you, all you know is that you’ve never felt this comfortable around another person. You don’t know how he does it, but Nick manages to make you feel as if you can beat this and come up on top, and really that’s good enough for you. 

By Yule, you’ve basically moved into the cottage with Nick.  It’s quiet and comfortable, and it does wonders for your health. You know that you still have a long path in front of you, but with Nick at your side, it doesn’t feel impossible any more. You’re busy with a batch of cookies when Nick comes in, a few extra logs for the fireplace under his arm. 

He shoves his freezing cold hands under your knit sweater, as he wraps his arms around you. You let out a little squeak in reaction, to which he gives an amused chuckle. 

“Smells good, what are you making?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You lean back against his chest, “Just sugar cookies.” 

He presses a kiss to your cheek, “Can’t wait. Do you need help?” 

You shake your head, “Go get showered. We can start dinner when you’re done.” 

Nick kisses your cheek again before he detaches himself from you, “Won’t be long.” 

As he heads towards the bathroom, Nick stops where Jerry is napping on the sofa. And when you look over to them, you realise that you’ve finally made it home. 

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