#professor blackthorn

[emotigonecreative]

Strixhaven session 5- in which the frog fight ends in friendship, but not before a few bites are taken from both parties. Meanwhile in the principals office Professer Nunya is having a 'chat' with the Headmistress...

[prof-polaris]

📸

It's a video, taken as if from the back of a class. In the front of the class stands Indigo, who seems to be teaching about Grass types. Maple the leafeon stands by them, and a few other grass types are nearby, milling around the room. These include a few oddish, a sawsbuck, a bulbasaur, a breloom, and many others.

[sailorgoon13]

Theodore Nott

Basics:

Full Name: Theodore Nott

Nickname: Theo

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 4 November, 1979

Heritage: English/ Italian

Blood Status: Pure Blood

Wand: Blackthorn, Unicorn hair, 11 3/4", Slightly Flexible

Appearance:

Hair Color: Dark brown, a bit fluffy

Eye Color: Striking baby blue

Skin Tone: Olive

Height: 6'

Body Type: Lean and athletic. Tall, well proportioned

Style: Well-fitted jeans or chinos paired with a crisp button-down shirt or a cashmere sweater. Accessories are key to his look, with luxurious touches like leather loafers, silk scarves, and perhaps even a designer watch or cufflinks. His color palette leans towards darker tones like charcoal, navy, and deep burgundy

Features: Confidence, Mysterious aura, Sharp wit, Distinctive voice, Leadership

Personality:

Traits: Reserved, Loyal, Manipulative, Intelligent, Emotionally Complex

Likes: Privacy, Fine literature, Refines tastes, Debates, Chess

Dislikes: Arrogance, Lack of ambition, Betrayal

Hobbies: Quidditch, Reading, Playing Piano

Fears: Vulnerability, Rejection, Turning to the Darker side

Family and Friends:

Father: Mr. Nott

Valued Pure-Blood status

Supporter of Voldemort's cause/ Death Eater

Mother: Mrs. Nott

Died when Theo was young

Instilled his love for literature and fine art

Taught him Italian

Friends: Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Lorenzo Berkshire, Mattheo Riddle

Magic:

Special Abilities: His father taught him darker magic when he was young, though he doesn't like to use any of it. Particularly good at charms and hexes

Boggart: A memory of when he witnessed his mother dying

Patronus: Fox

Polyjuice: Would look velvety black with sparkling flecks of gold and silver. Smell like earthy Italian herbs and leather books with a hint of roses. It might taste like dark chocolate infused with hints of espresso and blackberry, with a subtle undertone of smoky oak and vanilla

Amortentia: Bergamont, Sandalwood, Freshly Brewed Coffee, Dark Chocolate

Backstory:

Theodore Nott was born into a prestigious pure-blood wizarding family, his childhood filled with the enchanting landscapes and rich cultural heritage of Italy. His mother, a talented witch with a passion for art, literature, and music, imparted upon him a love for the finer things in life. She taught him how to speak Italian, play the piano, and appreciate the beauty of the magical world around them.

However, Theodore's childhood took a tragic turn when his mother passed away, leaving him with a profound sense of loss. Compounding his grief was the revelation that his father, though also deeply devoted to his family, had been a follower of Voldemort. With Voldemort's downfall, Theo's father met his demise, leaving Theo with conflicting emotions and a sense of isolation.

Despite his father's past affiliations, he distanced himself from his family's dark legacy, choosing instead to honor his mother's memory by embracing the values she had instilled in him. He found comfort in the company of his friends, particularly during Christmas vacations and over the summer, when he would often stay with classmates Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, and Enzo Berkshire.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Theodore excelled academically and athletically, distinguishing himself as a talented and ambitious student. His keen intellect, strategic mind, and refined tastes set him apart from his peers, earning him both admiration and envy. Despite facing teasing and discrimination for his softer side and Italian accent, Theo remained resilient, drawing strength from the bonds of friendship that sustained him.

He discovered a passion for Quidditch, becoming the star keeper for the Slytherin team. With each dive and save, he felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration, leaving behind the weight of his worries and losses, if only for a moment.

Academics:

Best Subject: Charms

Favorite Subject: DADA (But he won't tell you its really Astronomy)

Favorite Professor: Flitwick

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Divination

Least Favorite Professor: Slughorn

Student Life:

Academically excels in his studies, particularly in subjects like Potions and Charms

A regular fixture in the Hogwarts library, spending hours poring over ancient texts and refining his magical skills, teaching himself a new language, (Or really just hiding behind a romance novel)

Respected by his classmates for his intellect and admired for his cool demeanor, though some may find him enigmatic or intimidating.

He enjoys spending time in the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, honing his skills as Keeper

He also indulges in his love for art, literature, and music

Girls at Hogwarts are drawn to Nott's confidence, intelligence, and refined tastes, finding themselves mesmerized by his cool demeanor and mysterious aura

While he remains discreet about his romantic interests, there is no shortage of girls vying for his attention and affection.

Template: @hazyange1s

[dragonbabes]

Emmrich is so cute.

While going through the books in Blackthorne Manor, there’s this line from him that just — it’s why I adore him:

Emmrich: And what’s a romance doing under geography, hmm?

Like, my darling, most dear professor, there is a ritualistic sacrifice about to happen and 100 souls — including ours — will be sucked up in that lantern like it’s an energizer battery… Hardly seems like the most pressing issue but he still scoffs about it?

💘

[wholoveseggs]

~Series♡~

{<- masterlist}

18+

Smut ~ Violence ~ Fluff ~ Angst

~Warmth

Part One {5k} ♡♡♡ --- It's your wedding day, but it feels more like being sold off than a celebration. You're about to marry into the most powerful family in history, but it's not by choice—it's all politics. All you can do is hope that the guy waiting for you at the altar is decent and that somehow, you'll survive whatever comes after "I do."

Part Two {6k} ♡♡ --- Its day two of your unexpected honeymoon, as trust begins to blossom, the question lingers—will he exceed your expectations or leave you longing for more?

Part Three {8k} ♡♡♡ --- Back in the vibrant streets of New Orleans, relishing in your newfound freedom. Life takes an unexpected turn as the shadows of your past life loom large, pulling you back into the life you just escaped. Yet, amidst the haunting echoes, you find strength in a partner who is ready to go to any lengths for you.

~Extraordinary

Part One {5k} ♡♡ --- Just a quick little ménage à trois with the boys.

Part Two {7k} ♡♡ --- Just a quick little ménage à trois with the boys... but its round two.

Part Three {8.5k} {Holiday Special} ♡♡♡ --- Just a quick little ménage à trois with the boys... but its round three & under the mistletoe.

~Indulgences

Part One {3k} ♡♡ --- Elijah's red door is cracked open and his heart broken, so naturally Klaus takes him to a strip club to cheer him up.

Part Two {3.5k} ♡♡ --- Elijah returns to the club, seeking solace in the dimly lit corners. You navigate the allure of his wealth and charm while trapped in the grip of your possessive boyfriend.

Part Three {5.5k} ♡♡♡ --- As your relationship with Elijah deepens, conflict arises and you are put in an impossible situation.

Part Four {7k} ♡♡♡ --- In the aftermath of violence, you forge new connections and leave behind all the pain that has plagued you for so long.

~Pop Quiz

Part One {7k} ♡♡ --- How can you possibly pay attention in history class when your professor is that hot? Let's hope you don't fail your exam...

Part Two {9.5k} ♡♡♡ --- Its been a few weeks since you last saw your professor, and you are feeling insecure about the nature of your relationship. You decide to make a grand gesture to capture his attention. Hopefully it doesn't blow up in your face...

~Mine

Part One {5k} ♡ --- A drunken hookup with Klaus complicates your friendship with Elijah, leading to an awkward morning after.

Part Two {5k} ♡♡♡ --- Rebekah talks some sense into you and you aim to repair your relationship with Elijah.

~Crimson Frost

Part One {6k} ♡♡♡ --- You are to be wed to Niklaus of the Mikaelson clan, but when tragedy strikes and blood is shed in the snowy night, the true strength of family bonds and the power of love are put to the ultimate test.

Part Two {5.5k} ♡♡ --- After the raid on your village you are separated from your little sister and your betrothed Niklaus, not knowing if they are alive or dead. Holed up in a hut with Elijah during a raging snowstorm, you train and prepare to hunt down the Blackthornes. Meanwhile, Niklaus, Kol and Rebekah have found safe haven in a nearby village, the leader Ansel provides all he can.

Part Three {6k} ♡♡♡♡ --- Things heat up between you and Elijah as you prepare to rescue Gerda and Henrik. In the pursuit of your sister things get bloody and an unexpected warrior comes to your aid.

Part Four {5.5k} ♡♡♡ --- Your reunion with Nikaus and Elijah doesn't go as planned and betrayals are revealed. Threatening the peace and safety you fought so hard for.

Part Five {8.5k} ♡♡♡ --- As you prepare for your wedding, secrets come to the surface and your future hangs in the balance.

~Rules

Part One {2k} ♡♡ --- As the little sister of the Salvatores, trouble always finds you. Whether it's from a vampire, werewolf or an original, you are always at the center of it. When the mysterious villain Elijah comes to Mystic Falls, everyone is trying to stop him from hurting Elena. But you? You might be falling in love...

Part Two {4k} ♡♡ --- Its a beautiful day in Mystic Falls, so you decide to put on your favorite dress and grab a drink. Hoping to attract a man {or two} to satisfy your appetites.

Part Three {6k} ♡♡♡ --- You head over to Elijah's place, ready to have a fun night together. But when you don't mind your manners, you end up paying the price.

Part Four {6.4k} ♡♡ --- Tonight is the night of the dinner party and tensions are running high. Caught between the love for your family and your own desires, things take a dramatic turn

Part Five {10.7k} ♡♡♡♡ --- It was never a good idea, falling in love with the enemy. But how were you supposed to know how it would all end up?

~The Gardener

Part One {2k} ♡♡♡ --- The relationship between witches and vampires has always been fraught with complexity— a toxic mix of power and revenge. Raised to preserve nature’s balance, you’ve been taught that vampires are a perversion of life itself. You have a duty and a purpose, to eliminate all vampires. You're willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill it, even if that means falling into bed with the enemy.

Part Two {2k} ♡♡♡ --- Your mission to seduce Elijah continues, and it's becoming harder and harder to separate your feelings for him from your duty. Your ancestors call out to you, warning of death and destruction, and tensions within the coven are high. Your time is running out, and you have to find the white oak ash, and soon.

Part Three {2k} ♡♡♡♡ --- You have fallen into a comfortable routine with Elijah, but the threat of war looms on the horizon. Will you betray him or will you follow your heart?

Part Four {2k} ♡♡♡♡ --- Things come to a head when you decide to confront the Mikaelsons, before your magic consumes you.

~Dark Star

Part One {6.8k} ♡♡ --- Bound by love that defies centuries, Elijah Mikaelson will do whatever it takes to resurrect his lost wife. Even if it means forsaking everything he believes in. Once the north star guiding his family, his shattered heart now leads him down a darker path, transforming him into a version beyond redemption. A damned soul, drawing his family into an abyss they may never escape.

Part Two {8.2k} ♡♡♡ --- In a 13th-century convent, you’re drawn to the mysterious nobleman Elijah Mikaelson, who stirs desires forbidden in both heart and faith. In the present day, the Mikaelson family teeters on the edge, torn over what to do with Elijah, now trapped in torment by Klaus’s dagger. Haunted by memories of love and loss, Elijah relives the past, and his siblings face a grim choice: leave him in despair or risk the havoc he might unleash.

Part Three {6.8k} ♡♡♡ --- Klaus and Marcel hit a dead end searching for your killer. Until Cami offers a fresh perspective that could change everything. Kol uncovers a spell that might resurrect you, but the cost is steep. And centuries ago, under starlit skies, you surrender to a forbidden night with Elijah, binding your fate to his in ways that transcend time.

Part Four {6.8k} ♡♡♡ --- In the present day, Cami takes matters into her own hands by going to the police, urging detectives to search for your killer. Meanwhile, Rebekah and Kol return to Mystic Falls to seek Bonnie Bennett’s help...and run into an old friend. In the past, your church has a watchful eye on your every move as fear of demons brew among the villagers, risking your exposure and ruin.

Part Five {8.3k} ♡♡♡ --- Elijah’s obsession with resurrecting you drives his family deeper into darkness, where alliances fray and unexpected lives are lost as Bonnie Bennett becomes their reluctant pawn. In the 13th century, love turns to betrayal as your forbidden bond with Elijah transforms under the weight of sin, faith, and the cruelty of vengeance.

Part Six {8.4k} ♡♡♡ --- A tense family dinner reveals the fractures in the Mikaelson bond as Elijah’s madness pushes his siblings to the breaking point. In the 13th century, you wake up with a new hunger, your transformation into a vampire marking the beginning of a new and prosperous life. Setting up everything that is to come.

~Stains

Part One {3.7k} ♡♡ --- One spilled coffee, one ruined suit, and one infuriating man you can’t seem to avoid...

Part Two {2.4k} ♡ --- A bouquet of flowers, a generous donation, and a man who turns everything into a game you are destined to lose...

Part Three {3.4k} ♡♡♡ --- One lavish gala, one stunning dress, and one kiss you can’t take back...

Part Four {4.9k} ♡♡ --- One meddling Mikaelson, one stubborn heart, and one heated confrontation that leads to surrender...

Moonlight {60k} ♡♡♡♡

--- As Emma navigates a life filled with abuse and darkness, a chance encounter with Klaus and Elijah, who she believes to be demons, sets in motion a tale of forbidden desires, ancient pacts, and the struggle between light and darkness. Will Emma succumb to the darkness or find liberation?

[athenasdragon]

Haha just kidding. Unless?

What if. BG3 fanfic

(Every time I try to naturally integrate game mechanics into writing I think of that line from that wretched Dragonlance movie where the wizard goes "No matter how powerful the wizard is he's limited to the number of spells he can cast each day")

[girl-named-matty]

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯 𝘎𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵

Name: Callan Gaunt Pronouns: He/Him Age: 18 - HCU Gender: Male Birthday: December 31st, 1874 Zodiac Sign: Capricorn Birthplace: Undisclosed area, England. House: Slytherin Patronus: Goliath bird eating spider (im so sorry) Animagus: N/A Wand: Blackthorn wood, Dragon Heartstring core, 13", springy Blood Status: Pureblood Languages: English Ethnicity: Irish & English

𝘈𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

Race: Caucasian Eyes: Dark brown, almost black Hair: Short black hair Skin: Pretty pale Height: 6'3" Distinguishing Features: He has a scar across his left cheek.

𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺

Positive Traits: A very loyal friend, fun & outgoing, will never back down from a fight. Negative Traits: Sometimes takes sarcasm too far, is still figuring out the whole affection thing, aggressive if prompted. Strengths: Will stand up for someone if needed, no matter who. Weaknesses: Will NEVER back down from a fight, that's the issue lol.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 / 𝘚𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴

Boggart: His father Mirror of Erised: Being far away from his family & no longer having the Gaunt name Hobbies: Reading, Dueling, Pottery Amortentia: Cedar & fresh linen, Future Occupation: Healer Favorite Spell: Incendio Least Favorite Spell: Crucio

Best subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts Favorite subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Favorite Professor: Professor Sharp Worst subject: Divination Least favorite subject: Divination Least favorite professor: Professor Binns (he's boring) Quidditch Position: Beater

𝘍𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺

Father's Name: Caelan Gaunt Age: 46 Status: Alive Blood Status: Pureblood House: Slytherin Personality: He doesn't have one, he's just mean.

Mother's Name: Alessia Gaunt Age: 45 Status: Alive Blood Status: Pureblood House: Slytherin Personality: She was a caring mother when Callan was younger but once he got old enough she kinda stopped caring.

Siblings: Hugo, Constance, & Elowen Gaunt

𝘙𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴

Love Interest: Valentine Black (@savingsallow) House: Slytherin and Slytherin

♡︎ Theodore Lupin - Theodore is Callan's best friend. They met in first year after Callan saw Theodore getting bullied by some 3rd year kids. He stood up for him and they've been friends ever since. Callan is definitely the more outgoing of the two, but he's always looking out for Theo since he knows Theo isn't all too confident in himself. And regardless if his family doesn't approve of their friendship, Theo is still one of the most special people to Cal.

♡︎ Alejandro Salvatori - Ale and Cal are roommates (wow). They're really good friends, lowkey in love with each other, both like the same girl but also kind of each other??? It's complicated y'all, don't ask. Ale is just his pookie. But they are roommates, on the quidditch team together, and do a lot together. Him, Cal, and Val are lowkey in a weird love triangle, LOL.

♡︎ Ominis Gaunt - Ominis is Callan's cousin and they were born around the same time so they grew up together. Not only that but they share a lot of the same morals, so they can often be seen hanging out together in order to get away from the rest of their family. So they are pretty close, to put it simply.

♡︎ Sebastian Sallow - They get in trouble together, that's pretty much it most of the time.

♡︎ The HCU pals - He loves all of them with his whole heart 💕

𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

Callan was born on December 31st, 1984 to Caelan and Alessia Gaunt. He is the 2nd oldest of four children. During his childhood, Alessia was caring for the first few years of his life, but once he began to get older, she started caring less and less. As far as she was concerned, her relationship with her children was to just bring them into this world, teach them her values and views, and keep them trapped in them. She truly only ever cared about herself and her power in her relationship with her husband. Callan also had a strained relationship with his father. When his cousin, Ominis, was tortured by his own family at a young age, Callan heard about this and strongly disagreed, pained to see his favorite cousin get hurt.

Caelan quickly got upset at the boy and told him it was a fitting punishment for Ominis' disobedience. Once Callan disagreed, Caelan slashed his son on the face with a razor, giving him a scar he'd carry on his face forever. And that was the beginning of Cal's crumbling relationship with his father and family in general.

Cal spends most of his time at Hogwarts, planning to stay away from his family and to get far away from them one day. This also includes getting his girlfriend, Val, away from her family as well. All he wants to do is live in peace and happiness away from those who seek to hurt him and his loved ones.

[usagirln120]

Asuma Sarutobi: Hogwarts AU

Asuma Sarutobi was a Pureblood wizard that was born on the 18th of October 1964 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1976, being sorted into Gryffindor House.

He grew up as the son of a former headmaster of Hogwarts and because of that, he was expected to become a Hogwarts professor himself after he graduated but he instead wanted to become an auror.

This was a dream that he shared with his girlfriend Kurenai and despite the resistence in both of their lives (Asuma being expected to become a teacher and Kurenai's family not wanting her to follow in her father's dangerous footsteps), they both always encouraged each other as partners both in life and at work.

Due to an argument with his father at the end of his final year due, he ended up working as a hit-wizard at first which caused him to gain many enemies which then doubled as he finally started to work as an auror.

All of the enemies that he gained during his working years caused him to be against the idea of having children since he knew they would probably be used against him but Kurenai did eventually talk him into having at least one child together.

He eventually became a member of Makarov's Army during the beginning of the Fourth Wizarding War and later participated in the Battle of Hogwarts which he unfortunately did not survive.

He had a Blackthorn wand with a Phoenix Feather core.

His Patronus was a Grizzly Bear.

His favorite subjects were Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration.

His least favorite subjects were Herbology and Astronomy.

[saibugslegacy]

The Start of Something Great

Hogtober Day 1 - Ollivander's

Word Count: 723 Characters/Relationship(s): Percival Valley Setting: 6th year, Ollivander's Genre/Tags: Fluff, blatant disregard for how magic works

“Mr Ollivander?” Percival called into the seemingly empty shop. He heard a crash and Ollivander arrived around the corner with a wide grin on his face.

“Ah, Mr. Valley!” Ollivander waved him inside. “Come, come! Dud you bring what I asked?”

“Uh yeah,” Percival nodded. The 6th year pulled out a large dragon hide pouch he'd decided to use for transport just in case. “I'm not sure why you need an erumpet horn. They're extremely volatile.”

“Not to worry, I have plenty of protections in place,” Ollivander assured him. “Hm, yes, yes this should work. Perhaps you could help me.”

“I'm not really a Beasts expert,” Percival pointed out. “That's more Idris's thing.”

“Not with any beasts,” Ollivander waved him off. “Come with me.”

Ollivander led him to the back of the shop where there was a desk littered with various woods and tools.

“I understand you are quite gifted with charms, yes?” Ollivander said.

“I don't know about gifted-”

“Nonsense, our dear Professor Fig constantly raved about your abilities,” Ollivander replied. “I've long believed there are wand cores beyond what us wandmakers have become comfortable with. Many potential cores have been deemed too unstable to make a proper wand but I am determined to prove otherwise.”

“You decided to start with an Erumpent horn?” Percival stared at him dumbfounded. There were so many other things to start with that didn't explode if handled with anything other than cautious care.

“And people say Ravenclaws aren't daring,” Ollivander grinned. “Now, I know you've studied wand lore, perhaps you can give me a new perspective.”

“Okay…” Percival took the time to look over the woods that had been laid out before him. “Erumpent horns are unstable, so a wood that's temperamental wouldn't go well. They have to be handle with delicate care so it's probably particular. It needs something equally suited for whatever magic it performs best.”

“Exactly my thinking,” Ollicander agreed. “My conundrum comes with what magics this horn would be best suited for. The immediate assumption would be defensive or offensive magic however when paired with wands such as aspen and blackthorn the results were rather…catastrophic.”

“What about hornbeam?” Percival suggested. “It's one of the most adaptive wand woods, usually adopting to its owners best form of magic. Then you wouldn't have to find the horn's best magic at all.”

“Interesting,” Ollivander hummed. He shuffled around the back area of the shop until he pulled hornbeam wood from a drawer and carried it back to the desk.

Percival was quickly shooed back to the front of the shop while Ollivander worked, an action that reminded all too much of winter during his fifth year. But this time he wasn't waiting for a wand to save the Wizarding World, just the pursuit of magical discovery. It was nice to not worry for the fate of the world and instead wait curiously for an experiment to conclude. It was also much more exciting.

Just as Percival was thinking he had yet to hear an explosion Ollivander emerged with a cylindrical hornbeam wand in hand. Percival rushed over with a grin on his face as he took the wand to study it.

“It's as beautiful as ever,” Percival complimented the wandmaker. “And it didn't explode.”

“Quite the improvement from past attempts,” Ollivander chuckled. “I must say, you have quite the eye for wandmaking. Perhaps you should consider it when taking your NEWTs next year.”

“Wand making?” Percival shook his head. “Not for me, no. I've always found the relationship between woods and their cores and the differing behaviors of woods fascinating but more in the sense of the theory of it all. Actually making the wands isn't something I'm particularly interested in. I'm too attached to charms and potions.”

“Very well,” Ollivander. “If you ever change your mind do let me know, won't you? I like to keep an eye on my rivals.”

Percival laughed and handed back the wand. The idea of being a wandmaker wasn't unappealing. It was something he could see himself doing and being content. However there were other things that appealed to him more. Maybe he could return to it if he didn't find anything else to pursue. For now he simply began the trek back to Hogwarts with the thrill of invention on his mind. Maybe that was an idea instead….

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

People I Want to Get to Know Better

Tagged by @twig-tea. Thank you, I hope my Watchlist quenches your curiosity!

Last Song: About Time by D.O. I've been listening to his albums a lot recently and every time I still feel my breath catch a little at his voice.

Favourite Colour: I keep saying it's blue (and it is) but I somehow keep ending up buying things that are either pink or yellow so.....

Currently Watching:

- My Sweet Mobster (when a rom-com advocates for réhabilitation rather than punishment... it works surprisingly well)

- The Trainee (in love with the series and the characters, a potential new favourite)

- Century of Love (really enjoying it but I need to catch up to it because I got distracted by:)

- Knock Knock Boys (the GIFs worked, I couldn't not check this out and I binged it in 2 days, I would fight for Latte's happiness).

- Shogun (Henry Blackthorn annoys me so much BUT at least it's as a person rather than as a character so the writing is solid)

- Spy X Family (pure joy in 25 minute blocks)

I tried out Serendipity's Embrace yesterday but it didn't feel like something I'd enjoy so that's moving to my "not interested" pile.

I also have planned binges for Bangkok Blossom, The Glory (S1 and 2) and The Crowned Clown to try and clear some of my To Watch list.

Last Movie: I don't watch many movies at all BUT I did recently watch Moonlit Winter and all I can say is watch it watch it watch it. I actually cried, not sad tears, but happy cathartic tears because of how beautifully the movie portrayed the relationship between the mother and daughter.

Otherwise it would have been Inside Out 2, which I can now recommend as an excellent educational tool to use for kids just about to experience puberty and all the new emotions that come with it.

Currently Reading:

Ancestors: A Prehistory of Britain in 7 Burials by Professor Alice Roberts. And look, I know it sounds dry but it's really well written, covers eras of history there is still very little known about, and has an excellent chapter in which the author dismantles TERF and gender essentialist talking points using archaeology.

I've also just finished Spy X Family vol. 11 (now waiting for vol. 12) and I'm about to start Twilight Out of Focus (I can't watch the anime until I've read the manga) and read Red Thread vol. 2 (the manga based on UWMA).

Sweet, Spicy or Savoury?: Sweet unless it's a meal.

Relationship: Actively single

Current Obsession: My cat and also iced Chocolate.

Last Googled: "actively single" to check it meant what I thought it meant.

Currently Working On:

- Learning how to make my own clothes.

- Clearing my watchlist so that I can rewatch things and actually take time to write meta.

- Moving country without losing my mind.

- Clearing my TBR.

Tagging @lurkingshan @waitmyturtles @doyou000me and @respectthepetty apologies if you've already done this!

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

Coven, Part II

Coven is a work of erotic fiction, intended for adults 18+, written by Ottopilot. Images were AI-generated by Ottopilot using Stable Diffusion 1.5. Don't like AI? Text-only version here. Content warnings: sexual content, mature language, mind control, corruption, occult, sadism

Previously: Part I, This is: Part II, Continued in: Part III, Part IV, Part V

Lily tossed her messenger bag on the sturdy but well-worn pine table, followed by her drip Clockwork Coffee, black, and had a seat. She pulled out her laptop and opened the clamshell.

Taking the coffee to her lips, Lily closed her eyes and took small, careful sips. Still too hot to take a big chug, she needed that strong acidic bite and intoxicating aroma to get the cobwebs out. Clockwork wasn't for everyone — too corporate for some, not foodie enough for others — but Lily appreciated its consistency. The trademark dark roast offered a dependably predictable experience in a world that was anything but.

The senior journalism student took a deep breath, drawing the earthy smells of coffee and university library into her nostrils, and began by reviewing her notes from Sarah's debriefing.

"I took Dr. Bishop's class on polytheism and paganism my senior year, and she wrote my recommendation letter for grad school. She's my faculty advisor, and we've become very close friends."

Starting with Dr. Helen Bishop's university bio, nothing pegged her as Future Evil Sorceress, Lily thought, chewing on her pen. B.A. Stanford, M.A. Harvard, PhD Brown. Tenured faculty at Blackthorn College, vis a vis Dartmouth, Wesleyan, and Amherst. Expert in polytheism and witchcraft. Author of two books: The Many Faces of the Divine: Polytheism in a Monotheistic World and The Arcane and the Divine: Magic, Ritual, and Worship in Antiquity. Her headshot, a black-and-white photo of a middle-aged Southeast Asian woman with short hair and a friendly smile, was pleasant and benign.

Lily frowned, peering at the search engine results. Amazon.com link to her books. Link to a piece in Anthropology Quarterly. Glowing student reviews of her classes. Notices of past speaking engagements. A neglected Instagram account with photos of her travels and food. Her LinkedIn profile.

With a frustrated sigh, Lily removed her reading glasses and rubbed her temples. There's either something I'm missing, Lily thought, or Sarah's out of her freaking skull.

"Through word of mouth, we formed an unofficial witchcraft interest group. We performed positive spells for personal growth or things we wanted. For example, the professor regretted never having children, so we cast fertility spells for her." "Did they cast spells for things you wanted too?"

The door to the apartment closed as Jamie headed off to class, and Sarah Rodgers was alone. He seemed like a good guy, she thought, making it harder for her to despise him out of pure jealousy.

Lily had practically sprinted out the door this morning, while Sarah pretended to still be asleep on the couch. It was clear Lil was trying to avoid her. She was doing Sarah a favor, a huge one, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

It felt strange to wear Lily's clothes, especially the sweatshirt. This goddamn aquamarine, threadbare sweatshirt.

Sarah didn't think it was intentional. Lil could come off cold and impersonal, but she wasn't insensitive. No, Sarah thought, just because she had strong memories of this sweatshirt doesn't mean Lily gave it a second thought.

Sarah took the sweatshirt in both hands, bringing it up to her face, and inhaled deeply. It wasn't exactly the same. She guessed Lily switched detergents. But it still smelled like her, sweet like a summer peach.

She loved to wear it, Sarah reminisced. Anytime she caught a chill, she put it on, unzipped, over her clothes. The bright hue clashed with Sarah's goth-influenced, monochrome tastes. But Lily loved it.

And Sarah loved Lil. So she came to love it too.

Spring of her freshman year, Lily ordered some sexy lingerie online as a surprise. But Sarah was late, stopping to pick up Szechuan on the way back from class, and Lily got a little cold. When Sarah arrived, there was Lily, an absolute knockout in sheer and lace…and glasses, and that goofy sweatshirt.

They both had a good laugh, and they stayed in all night, making love and eating out of take-out boxes in bed. Sarah truly loved being dominated by Lily. She craved submitting to her, had trusted her with her safety. Even after Lily had marked her flesh, after Lily's fingers closed around her delicate neck, she would have let her do it again.

Sarah remembered Lily before she became guarded and closed-off, when she didn't take herself so seriously. They were so happy then. As she sat alone, wiping away tears with the sleeves of Lily's favorite sweatshirt, she wasn't sure she had been happy since.

If you thought magic could heal your broken heart, was it so illogical to try it?

"When Helen came back to school this fall, something had changed. She had changed."

Lily felt a chill. This damn library was always so drafty. You think with the cost of tuition, they could turn the heat up a bit. Guess it's bad for the centuries-old books.

She pondered this sentence. Assuming Sarah hadn't lost her mind, what happened to Dr. Bishop last summer that made her go off the rails?

Lily leaned back in the chair. Besides wanting to get out of the apartment, Lily liked to work in the library because of these firm, unrelenting chairs. It was harder to fall asleep if the chairs weren't comfortable.

She looked at her notes. Looked at the browser. Cycled through the open tabs. Amazon. LinkedIn. Instagram.

Wait.

Turns out the good doctor was fairly active on the Gram for a while. A photo with a graduating student. A batch of cookies she baked. Striking Italian architecture. A pasta dinner and a generous glass of wine. Tuscan vineyards. A necklace bought at a shop. That was the last photo, 4 months ago.

Lily looked at the necklace. An odd thing, made of iron, triangles overlapping with horns, inset with rubies. Not particularly pretty, though definitely old looking. A strange thing to turn up in a tourist-trap Italian antique shop.

Excited at the prospect of a lead, Lily selected an area around the necklace's charm and conducted a reverse image search. Lily was initially discouraged as very few results were returned - until one of them stood out from the others.

"Hell yes," Lily said to herself, leaping out of her chair. She hurried to a computer, looking for the library's copy of "The Arcane and the Divine: Magic, Ritual, and Worship in Antiquity" by Dr. Helen Bishop.

With the enthusiasm of a bloodhound on the trail of murderer, Lily scoured the aisles of books until she found it. Quickly she scanned the index, and found the entry about the demon Asmodeus.

Lily read the passage aloud to herself:

"In Abrahamic religions, Asmodeus is a demonic king associated with lust and revenge. He wielded a weapon, the Ruby Rod of Asmodeus. It is believed that, in tribute, worshippers of Asmodeus circa 100 A.D. created an amulet called the Eye of Asmodeus. Constructed of iron, the Eye of Asmodeus contains a large ruby surrounded by both a triangle and inverted triangle, forming a pentagon. The Eye also has bull horns on both sides. "The ruby in the Eye of Asmodeus is rumored to have been created by submerging the ruby in the spilled blood of innocents. It is suspected to give the wearer the ability to influence and control minds, at the cost of eroding sanity and morality of the user."

"Well, that sounds bad," Lily said.

"She was leading us down a dark path, but we were so seduced by the power we willingly followed."

Watching morning game shows, Sarah tried to think back on how she got here. She thought of the metaphor of a lobster being boiled alive, the temperature slowly rising while the clueless lobster succumbs to its fate. The corruption of the coven was innocuous, comforting and soothing until she realized it was almost a full boil.

When Helen came back to school, she had so many new spells and techniques to show them. They all saw the immediate results, and were drawn to the power Helen yielded. She made them feel special and chosen and worthy of this forbidden knowledge.

The spells began small, with unforeseen consequences. Amy wasn't feeling well, so Helen taught them how to alleviate her nausea. Michiko had a disgreement with a neighbor in her dorm, and Helen taught them to make the girl see the error of her ways. It wasn't initially clear Amy got better by stealing energy from healthy students, or that the neighbor was mentally manipulated. The group identity of the coven eroded the morality of its members, making them rationalize the means to justify the ends.

Sarah started to wonder if she and Laura had overreacted. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. There might be punishment, but the coven would take them back, Sarah thought. And now, Sarah was reconnected with Lily. Lily had a curious mind and a thirst for knowledge. They could learn about the mysteries together… maybe, this could be a rebuilding point.

"Samhain, after dark tomorrow, is when the barrier between the physical and spiritual world is weakest. That's the origin of Halloween. But what if I told you it was real?"

Lily did not have "ask the school librarian about cursed grimoires in their collection" on her bingo card, but here she was.

A yawn escaped Lily's mouth as she looked over the musty tome. She wasn't even sure what she was looking for. Three years of high school Spanish was only marginally helpful for translating Latin. She was basically looking at pictures like a toddler reading the encyclopedia, trying to follow along.

"This has potential," she murmured, as she looked at a drawing of a person, laying on their back in the middle of a pentagram. "Samhain… luna… corpus… Ah, fuck this."

Lily pulled out her phone, opening up Google Translate. There's no way it can read this handwriting, she surmised, so she furiously typed the words into the text box.

Samhain cum plena luna occurrit, corpus daemonibus deditur; anima daemonium regis coronatur.

"Okay, Translate," Lily said, hitting the purple button on her phone. Within seconds, she read the resulting message.

At Samhain, when the full moon occurs, the body is given to the demons; the soul of the demon king is crowned.

"Oh shit," Lily exclaimed. Sarah was right, and in grave danger.

"One of the junior witches, a literature major named Laura Valencia, took me aside. She said she overheard Helen planning a ritual with another witch, and that she mentioned a sacrifice."

The Price is Right had ended, with a college student jumping up and down, hugging Drew Carey, before transitioning to the mid-day news. The anchor, a handsome well-coiffed man, spoke with a booming baritone.

"More reporting on our lead story from this morning: a fatal bus crash on Interstate 495 has traffic snarled up for miles around. It appears the culprit was poor visibility, as the driver lost control during last night's surprise storm.

"The driver and all passengers onboard were killed in this tragedy. The bus was a Greyhound bus destined for St. Louis."

Sarah covered her mouth in shock. No. No no no no no.

Laura's bus. Sarah put her on that bus to get her away from here last night, before going to Lily's.

She wasn't being paranoid. She was in danger too.

"Without Laura and I, there are only 11 witches in the coven. Samhain - Halloween - is tomorrow night. I don't think the ritual can take place without us, and I don't know what will happen when it doesn't."

In a panicked frenzy, Sarah tossed blankets and couch cushions, looking for her phone. She had to call Lil, to get out of here, before they found her. Where the fuck did she put it?

She heard her ringtone, from the bathroom. Of course, she needed to charge it last night. She started towards the bathroom to retrieve it, when a voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Hello, Sarah."

[pyroexcape]

some prototype redesigns of the MC's for for my gen 2 rewrite! more ab them under the post

all three are between 17-18 at the start of the plot, and have new names while keeping the first letter of their original ones! so from going left to right;

Kazuha (she/her) comes from the kimono girl family in Ecruteak. Connected to Ho-oh, currently an intern for Professor Elm's research on the pokedex.

Shiloh (he/they) comes from a family of dragon tamers in Blackthorn, half-brother to this continuity's Lance. Connected to Lugia, he is trying to track down Team Rocket to find his missing mother's whereabouts.

and Griffin (He/him) is a runaway trainer from Kanto, aiming to be the most famous Pokemon trainer in Johto. He gets wrapped up in their business after some recurring happenstances- technically the "main" character of the story.

the title of this rewrite is Fire Escape. unsure of how much im gonna share or how far i'll go with this, the story's been brewing in my head for a few months now so i figured might as well put it somewhere before i go crazy

[legacyshenanigans]

I asked Marvolo CAI questions to see if anything I asked matched my HC for him:

What's your favourite colour?

He said Red, nope haha its deep green ❌️

What's your middle name?

Man said Robert ❌️ It's Aleister.

Do you have any pets?

He said an Owl called Bert 🤣❌️

We all know it's Rerek. 🐍

What's your parents names?

He said Tom and Lilly. ❌️

Nope, its Aleister and Ophelia.

What's your wand like?

He said Black, willow, Unicorn core ❌️

It's Black, Blackthorn, Dragon heartstring.

What's your siblings name:

Man be like who the fuck is Ominis lmao because he said he had a BABY brother called Abraham 🤣 ❌️

Who's your best friend?

Some gal called Penelope apparently ❌️

It's Rowan. 🐺

Have you ever killed anyone?

He said Yes ✅️

Have you ever killed a muggle?

He said "it's complicated" so I'll take that as a yes ✅️

Have you ever been in love?

He said the only person he'd ever loved was an Italian man named Ronaldo 🤣 it was apparently a whirlwind holiday romance ❌️

What do you do for work?

Man is apparently the professor of Muggle studies at hogwarts ❌️

*eye narrowing doubt* 🤣

What colour is your hair?

He said black ✅️

What colour are your eye's?

Man said Green ❌️

AI pics NEVER show his true Eyecolour that I HC for him, if anyones wondering they're hazel so I can't give him a tick for green, because Hazel and Green are NOT the same even though people with Hazel eyes SWEAR they have green eyes to seem more "unique and rare" lmao. Which made me laugh because it made me think he was being one of "those" annoying people hahahaha.

~

[orqheuss]

Even the iron still fears the rot PART 4

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Summary:

Ominis is pushed far past his limits as Leona presses him for information about your whereabouts. Back at the castle, your search is beginning to look hopeless.

Word count: 8k

Tags: torture, blood, gore, broken bones, body horror, eye horror, emetophobia, graphic depictions of violence, cruciatus curse, threats of murder, strangulation, dissociation, J.K. Rowling canon history

AN: Did i research wand cores and wand wood extensively for this chapter? yes, yes i did.

Read at your own discretion

The professors were silent as Imelda recounted her story, leaving out no detail that could help persuade them in your cause— no stone unturned in the story of the disappearance of Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. She still had Sebastian’s wand clutched tightly in her hand, the green and black checkered handle catching the light every so often as she paced the length of the room, hoping to expel some of the frantic energy building in her gut. You were not much better. Your leg was bouncing rapidly against the ground, your boot continuously tapping on the marble floor below and sending a tiny tapping to bounce around the room. The nails on your left hand had been bitten to stubs, tiny cuts beginning to bleed on your cuticles as you stared unseeing at the wall across from you— your mind plagued with images of what could be happening to your closest companions. 

They could be absolutely anywhere, you thought; anywhere across the entirety of the highlands of Scotland. It had been nearly a day at this point since they left for Hogsmeade, smiling and laughing about all the candy they were going to eat together when they got back and were finally able to drag you away from your extra assignments. No one imagined this happening to them in the peaceful town— no one thought that any harm would come to anyone now that Rookwood, Harlow, and Ranrok had been defeated. How naive you were. Poachers were still littered about the area, their teeth bared and ready to snatch anyone connected to you and your ancient magic between their snarling jaws. It was only a matter of time before they tried a different game to lure you into their trap.

Ominis’ wand, tightly grasped in your right hand and held above your heart, was your only means of sanity. You looked down at the long, black-toned wood in anguish, the magic inside thrumming against your fingertips— your only solace that one of the boy’s you loved was still alive. You prayed desperately to any deity, any preternatural being that was listening for Sebastian to be there with him— conscious, breathing, alive. 

Yes, it had only been a day since they had left, but to you it felt like centuries. 

You tightened your hold on the wand, desperate for a little bit of sanctuary in this tremulous storm of a situation, and tried to focus on the soft pulse of the blond’s magic inside— like you could feel his heartbeat through its strange, effervescent sentience. Everyone in the castle knew about the rare properties of this particular blackthorn wand— how it helped the young blind wizard traverse around the castle day in and day out, as well as how it was able to help him in even the most challenging duels. But, what they didn’t know was that it was magically linked to him in more ways than one. The Slytherin let you hold it once, one late night when he had successfully snuck you into the Slytherin common room upon the behest that you wanted to see a mermaid. You remember how it vibrated in your hands, the pulse only getting stronger as Ominis released the wooden instrument entirely and let you turn it about between your fingers. He revealed to you, in a hushed voice that sent shivers down your spine, that it was made special for him by Olivander— made only with things that personally resonated with his magic so it would be a perfect fit, some magical ingredients found as far away as across the Atlantic Ocean. 

This was also the night that he revealed to you more of his reasonings for wanting nothing to do with his family. 

As a muggle-born, you didn’t really know anything about the magic world outside of Hogwarts, and recently Uagadou, thanks to Natty, so when he told you about the magic school of North America, Ilvermorny, you were fascinated. Ominis delicately spun the tale of Isolt Sayre, the founder of the school across the sea, and his family ties to her lineage. You remembered how animated his voice was— how it lifted and fell with each newly revealed section of her life, how his hands joined in the fray when he told the harrowing story of how she had fled from his great-great grandmother Gormlaith Gaunt and disguised herself as she sailed to the “new world,” how his eyes sparkled when he told you about how she went against everything she had been raised to believe and not only adopted two boys that were not from the sacred twenty-eight but also married a muggle. 

You had never seen him so animated before, so enthralled in what he was talking about that nothing else mattered to him besides telling you everything he knew about this part of his history. He had never smiled that big around you before, you thought. There was a small chip in one of his canines that kept catching your attention— a little bit of personality, of human-ness in the normally prim and proper display he put on for the rest of the school. 

You remembered how the glow of the black lake shone on him, making his eyes look like tiny crystal balls that held your entire future in their swirling depths, and his hair look like tiny strands of pure, silken gold spun by The Fates themselves against his porcelain skin. 

In that moment, he had never looked more beautiful. 

The story concluded with him gently taking your hands into his, his palms cradling the backs of yours as he ran his thumb along the smooth wood of his wand. In a hushed voice, only for you to hear, like it was a secret that no one else could ever know, he explained then that the core of his wand was what made it so special— so unique to the others at the school. It was made with a sliver of the horn from a Horned Serpent, a magical creature only found in North America, as they had become extinct in Europe. Olivander had to have his core shipped in specially because of its properties. Ominis explained that Horned Serpent cores were exceedingly rare— only the two Boot boy’s, Isolt’s children, had them from what he was aware, and they died long ago. It helped him move around the castle with echolocation, emitting a low, musical note that only he could hear whenever something was in his way, or whenever danger was near. Not only that, it was perspective to his parseltongue, something he had to grow to accept rather than resent. Isolt was also a known parseltongue, and near the end of his fifth year, when he first found out about her, he reasoned that if she felt no malice about this particular talent then there was little need for him to feel the same. It was a part of him, just like everything else that he had come to accept with the help of you and Sebastian. 

You remembered talking with him for hours, only stopping when the sun began to breach over the horizon and awaken the common room around you. Ominis, the gentleman that he is, walked you to your common room door before bidding you goodnight with a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You watched him from the barrels as he turned on his heel and began his walk back to his room, the red light at the tip of his wand blinking like a star on a cloudless night. 

Looking at the wand in your hands again, you asked it silently, desperately with your mind to blink to life once again— to point you in the direction of its owner so your boys could be safe and in your arms once again. Alas, no light came to help. 

“—? Are you with us, dear?” 

A hand lightly took you by the chin, tilting your face upwards and forcing your eyes away from the piece of wood you had been emotionlessly staring at for some time. The soft green and red tones of professor Garlick’s hat and hair were the only things you could see through the tears that burned in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had been crying until that second. A heaving, shaky breath made its way out of your lips as you shook your head lightly to clear your thoughts, a hand coming up and rubbing away the water that threatened to fall from your lower lashes. Garlick’s sympathetic face became clearer to you, her smile small but soft as she kneeled in front of the chair you had plopped into not long after entering the classroom. She gently took your hand, rubbing her thumb back and forth over your knuckles in a soothing motion as she tried to ground you back in reality. You wished it was Ominis and Sebastian touching you. 

Garlick tucked a tuft of your hair behind your ear before casting a look over her shoulder at her fellow professors, saying something that you couldn’t quite hear. Even though your eyes had cleared, it still sounded like you were underwater— like you were drowning and no one was coming to drag you back up to the surface. You didn’t dare look at the other professors, knowing you would find various forms of pity and sympathy in their eyes. You didn’t need pity, you needed them to get out there and find your best friends. 

Your eyes fell back downwards as the hand still cradling the blackthorn wand in your lap was gently pried open, making room for a second, lightly colored wand to join the first— yew wood, Sebastian’s wand. Your eyes began to water again when you saw them both together, side by side in your hands like their owners were in their everyday life. Professor Garlick cleared her throat to get your attention again, letting you take another deep breath and meet her gaze before beginning to speak. Her voice was tender, soft, like a mother consoling their crying child. 

“We are going to send out a search party for your friends first thing in the morning, I promise.” You opened your mouth, a protest dangling at the tip of your tongue, before she leveled you with a slightly harder, more strict stare. Your jaw closed with a soft click. “There would be no use looking for them in the middle of the night— there is no way of knowing where they are or who has them. It would be a suicide mission, and you know it. We will look for them right at first light when the chances of seeing them are higher.” 

She stood to her full height, holding out her hand for you to do the same. Once you were on your feet, she took your face into her hands, running her thumbs across your cheeks and wiping away the tears that gathered there. She gave you another soft smile, begging you to believe her, to not go looking for trouble like you tended to do with her eyes. 

“We will bring them back, dear. I promise you.” 

Professor Sharp cleared his throat to your left, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He leveled a stern glare at you and Imelda, his voice leaving no room to argue when he spoke.

“Now, to bed with the both of you, and don’t even think about sneaking out and going to look for them yourselves. Let us handle this.” 

Both of you nodded, turning to leave the room and let the professors continue to discuss the best course of action for the morning. You knew they were right, there would be no point looking for them in the dark. Even if they hadn’t been taken and they were simply stuck somewhere in the woods, it would be impossible to find them. Still, a pulsing anger began to burn under your ribs at the idea of just going to bed while they were out there somewhere— scared, alone, wandless.

Imelda grabbed your cloak sleeve once you were out of earshot, pulling you quickly behind the statue along the far left wall of the courtyard and whispering urgently. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to listen to them?!” 

You scoffed at the incredulous expression that clouded her face, a devilish smirk stretching across your own cheeks in return. 

“Of course not! It’s like you don’t know me at all. Meet me outside the covered bridge— one hour. Bring your broom.” 

Imelda nodded, a smile pulling at her lips as she saluted you, quickly turning on her heel and running in the direction of the dungeons as you ran off towards the kitchens. 

There was no way you wouldn’t go looking for your Slytherin’s. They were yours, and Merlin help the bastards that took them, because through hell or high water, you would find them. 

Dawn streaked through the tiny cracks in the stone wall, illuminating the inside of the ruined penitentiary. The soft pitter-patter of rain stemmed from the countryside just beyond the fortresses walls, creating small puddles of mud on the cell floors and making the space incomprehensibly colder for the two young men resting inside. Both had curled into themselves in the night, trying to preserve the smallest iota of heat in their bodies. Even then, their skin had begun to have a blue tint to it. Their teeth chattered unconsciously in their mouths— their bodies' way of keeping them moving and warm. With no blankets to shield themselves, no pillow to rest their head and keep their smaller extremities warm, the chilled autumn breeze slipped through any crack it could find and leeched all warmth from their skin. The night held very little good, true sleep for the pair of Slytherin’s. Each boy tossed and turned, nightmares upon nightmares flickering behind their eyelids and thoughts of what was to come in the morning dancing through their skulls like little demonic dream snatchers. 

Sebastian was shaking the hardest out of the pair for a different reason than the encapsulating cold. Each and every cut on him stung harshly as his body fought against the foreign materials littered in his blood— dirt and dust and grime from the decrepit stone floor. The night on the rocks had not been kind to the freckled boy. He was still badly injured from his session of torture; each shift of his weight brought a new wave of pain. He could feel where his bones had broken and were stitched back together with magic; the little shards that didn’t quite make it into their proper positions stung as they pierced the inner mechanisms of his anatomy. He rolled around restlessly, sweat beading on his brow as a fever scorched through him— the cuts criss-crossing his body slowly becoming infected from a mix of the cold and any other disgusting creatures that could be found swimming in the soil. 

He knew that if they didn’t get help soon, he would die in there. 

Just before the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, a crack sounded through the stone prison, waking both boys with a jolt as their brains switched to high alert— the predators had come back. Sebastian stumbled to his feet first, glaring at the three kidnappers with unbridled rage as they made their way closer to their cages. Leona looked him up and down from the other side of the bars, lightly chuckling to herself at his state. She took in his arm wrapped around his abdomen like it held in all his organs, the twitch in his face whenever he moved wrong and agitated one of his wounds. Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom, feet to temple, and ended her journey on his smoldering, scorching hot sneer. Even with everything she did to him the day before, even after sleeping through the blistering cold, he still had so much life in those eyes. For a moment, she was almost worried about what he would do to her after her plan for today. But, all of that stress flittered away in the autumn breeze once she caught sight of the sweat that beaded on his brow. He was deathly pale, his entire body shaking and shivering against the infection that wracked through his body. She chuckled again, louder and with a much more mocking tone— he would not survive long enough for her to care about what would happen after today. 

Nothing could stop the slow death that awaited him— something so muggle, something so distinctly human, not even magic. 

Leona winked at the brunette, smiling ruefully at his demise and turned towards the blond across from him. He was poised in the corner of his cell, eyes wide and head whipping to and fro as he listened for their approaching footsteps. The black-haired vixen admired him from the bars, her grin stretching further across her face. The cuts on his face had long since stopped bleeding, leaving streaks of red and brown covering his cheeks, only broken apart by the tear tracks that spilled from him yesterday. Every inch of him was on edge, like his whole body was being pulled taut by an invisible force. She could smell his fear in the air, the stench of his terror masking the pungent aroma of the other boy’s rage. The blond’s lips may be pulled back in a brave snarl, but she knew better— her was terrified. Good, she thought. He should be. With a flick of her wrist, she unlocked the door and stepped into the cage with the snarling beast. 

Ominis whipped his head in her direction, hearing her footsteps and breaths as she drew closer to his frozen form. He growled low in his throat, his animalistic instincts taking over in the life or death situation he has found himself in, and geared himself to charge at the target of his anger. He was going to make her pay for what she did to Sebastian— what she was preparing to do to him. With a roaring wail, he pushed off from the wall and ran blindly at the poacher that held them captive. Right as he got close enough to pounce, where Leona could feel his rancid breath against her cheek, she grabbed at his collar and flung him harshly into the bars just beyond, watching as the boy crumbled to the floor in a mess of limbs and panting breaths. She laughed at Ominis’ pain, regarding him in the new light and silently giving him credit for his gusto. She would have fun breaking this one. 

The Rookwood sister stepped back, letting the boy get his bearings before she summoned a dining chair into the space. Wand poised in front of her like a dagger, Leona levitated the youngest Gaunt into the air, throwing him into the chair and conjuring rope to wrap around his body. Anger burned in his eyes as his wrists were tied down to the armrests and his legs were bound together. He thrashed against the binds, cursing the woman and struggling with every bit of strength he had left. The woman stalked towards him with a confidence only a murderer would have; her steps were sure, her head raised above her squared shoulders in triumph— a queen at her coronation— a knight swaggering into a battle that she knew she would win. She leaned close, one hand braced next to where his hand white-knuckled at the wood and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking it back. A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth at the sudden pain. 

A shout came from the adjacent prison cell. “Leave him alone, you bitch—” 

“Shunpike, shut him up would you?” 

Sebastian’s threats and growls were silenced quickly. Not even the sounds of his fists harshly slamming against the iron bars could be heard in the small space. Ominis felt truly alone without the presence of the brunette’s voice. 

Leona leaned even closer to the blond, her honey breath fanning across the apples of his cheeks. The boy’s face twisted in disgust at her closeness. 

She laughed at his resilience. “We did a little digging on you, blondie. Ominis Gaunt, right? Your parents would pay a pretty galleon for your safe return.” 

She pulled harder at his roots, reopening the cut on his forehead from the force and sending a trickle of blood down his brow. Her other hand raised to his face, ghosting her sharp nail along his cheekbone and collecting a drop of the sanguine ichor. She licked the metallic life force from her finger, a smile stretching further across her face as she tasted her next meal. 

“Tell me where the brat with ancient magic is and maybe there’ll be enough of you left to return to them for a proper burial.” 

A wry smirk stretched across Ominis’ face as a short bark of a laugh tumbled from his lips. A look one could only describe as smugness glimmered in his irises. “Merlin, you even sound like a cunt. You obviously didn’t dig deep enough; my parents can’t stand me, and I refuse to enter a battle of wits with someone so dolefully unprepared—” 

A harsh slap rang through the small space. The blond’s head rocketed to the side, his cheek stinging from the impact and the fresh slices in his skin from the woman’s rings. She roughly grabbed him by the chin, forcing his face to meet hers once again. 

“I am going to wipe that smirk right off your face, you impudent mammothrept.” With her thumb, Leona smeared some of the blood from his fresh cuts along his jawbone. “You just gave up your one saving grace in here.” 

With that, she wrapped her hands around the sides of his head and roughly brought his face downwards on her knee, splintering his nose further and jostling the already angry break. A sharp cry came from the young blond, the force ricocheting his head backwards and sending a spray of blood down his front. Sebastian silently screamed out for the boy, his knuckles bruised and sliced nearly down to the bone from trying to punch his way out. 

With a laugh, the woman took the heel of her boot and slammed it down onto the fingers of Ominis’ wand hand, breaking each and every one of them into tiny little bits of bone and flesh. The air filled with screams of agonizing pain. 

Sebastian slammed his eyes shut at the sound, tears of anguish trailing down his face. His lover’s wails still pierced his ears, now even louder than before. 

It was truly cruel how much your other senses heightened when you couldn’t see.

Leona smiled at the boy’s screams, shutting her eyes and relishing in the delicious pain she caused. A dark, breathy chuckle drew her out of her prideful musings. She snapped her eyes back to the cowering blond, a look of angered shock painting her visage. He was laughing at her? She’d just broken half of his fingers, and he was laughing? 

Ominis raised his head from where it had slumped in agony, somehow meeting the piercing eyes of the torturess. Even with the blindness, Leona could feel his gaze dig deep into her soul. A deranged smile stretched across his face, eyes alight with a barely concealed fury and teeth stained a light pink from how hard he bit his tongue. Pain bled at the edges of his voice, but the words were clear and filled with a sardonic, vainglorious tone. 

“You don’t scare me. We both know what my family— my father is capable of. Whatever you do to me, he has done ten times over.” A steely madness danced in his eyes. “You are but a bug beneath my shoe— you and your pigeon-livered brother.” 

Leona roughly grabbed the boys’ chin, squishing his face between her fingers and dragging him almost entirely out of the chair. Ominis’ impertinent smile widened at the rage burning in the woman’s aura. Her breath felt like icicles across his cheeks, teeth bared behind her snarl as if she was ready to tear out his throat. 

“I’m going to make you wish you were never born.” 

She threw him back into the seat, watching as it rocked back and forth with his weight before raising her arm and backhanding him brutally across his already scarred cheek, opening a slice in his lip and filling his mouth with even more blood. No noise left him— only the sound of skin mutilating skin echoing around the chamber as she slapped him again for a second time, the force rocking his neck in the opposite direction and nearly giving the boy whiplash. The blond slowly turned his head back to face in Leona’s direction, nothing reading through his expression other than the slight tilt downwards of his eyebrows and his scathing eyes peeking out from under his jostled hair. Rearing his head back and puckering his lips, he spit a mix of saliva, blood, and the bit of his cheek that he bit off into the poachers face. Her nostrils flared as she felt the chunk of flesh land on her cheekbone, sliding down her face and leaving a snail trail of blood before dropping to the ground with a soft plop. Her vision painted red, an inhuman, primal growl ripping from her throat in unencumbered wrath as she pounced on him. Her fists wrapped around his scrawny neck, squeezing the life from him and throwing the both of them to the ground, chair and all. 

Sebastian cringed at the sound of Ominis’ head smacking harshly against the stone below, a muted sob squeezing through the gaps of his molars. 

Stars burst behind the young Slytherin’s eyes as all the air was knocked out of his chest— the hand crushing his throat leaving no room for oxygen to enter his lungs and replenish the supply. He struggled against her hold, a ringing screaming in his ears and clouding all of his other senses. All he could focus on was the burning in his chest and the bright light that slowly took over his mindseye. His lungs ached. Leona pushed all of her weight onto the boy's larynx and chest, her knee pushing with all of her strength against his abdomen, pressing him deeper and deeper into the ground and stealing more of the life from his eyes. Ominis had never known what it felt like to drown, but in that moment he was sure it wasn’t much different than the suffocation clawing under his ribs. He had minutes, maybe seconds left before he completely lost consciousness— his skin an even more pronounced bluish-purple now than it was when he was asleep. The eerie coldness of death crept through his body, his limbs beginning to lose the fight to hold on to that last semblance of life that squeezed at his heart. Only the sound of his beloved lover’s names could be heard in the staunchly quiet space as they fell from his parted lips; his eyes began to flutter closed for what felt like the last time— eternal sleep wrapping its arms around his tired form and ushering him into the cold, perpetually lonely afterlife. 

You had been looking for Ominis and Sebastian for hours by the time the sun first began to rise over the hills. Once you both met up at the covered bridge, you and Imelda took one end of the Forbidden Forest a piece, her starting at the northern end and you the southern before meeting in the middle. No matter how sound your reasoning was— ashwinder’s were more likely to conglomerate in already made camps, and nearly all of them near Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were in or around the forest, after all— they were nowhere to be found. You felt like a mad man, casting revelio nearly twice as much as you did last year for your begrudgingly useful field guide, and that was a lot. But even still, there was not one trace of your boys in the forest. 

The next logical place to search was the scene of the crime. You sent Imelda to go search the far end of the Hogsmeade woods, and you would search near the area where she had found the blood earlier. With a nod and a quick point in the right direction, you both were off to continue your hunt. 

Upon landing in the clearing, the first thing you noticed was the strong, putrid scent of blood. At one point this was probably a lovely spot, one where couples could come and have a picnic after a day of shopping in town, just enough out of the view of civilization that not many would even know to come looking there. Now, it looked like a crime scene. Imelda was right, there was so much blood around the space, much more than was healthy, much more than you wanted to see knowing that it belonged to the two men you were in love with. A constant, foreboding sickness pooled in your stomach at the sight and smell, its claws catching on the delicate skin of your throat as it clawed its way up towards your mouth. Fighting to swallow down the bile bubbling just under your jaw, you hesitantly stepped onto the earth below, dropping your broom where you landed and shakily approaching the center of the tiny clearing. 

You could see most of the struggle happened in the middle. The ground was still undisturbed, even after all this time— like the animals of the forest refused to go near it out of fear. Four sets of footprints dug into the soft grass below, one in front of another while two flanked on either side. Three kidnappers, you concluded. You could take three people. 

Squatting down towards the ground, you examined the first dried patch of blood. Time dyed the once crimson ichor the same color as the earth below, only the stark green of the grass leaving a trace of where the first boy had been struck. While the earth was the same, the air had had time to change, taking the scent of Ominis and Sebastian into its arms and carrying them away like leaves during the first snowfall of the season. Your only clue for which boy stood where you were now was revealed as the sun streamed through the tree branches above. The rays danced in the air around you, catching on a few hairs buried within the browned blood— pure, golden life against grotesque, dismal death. Ominis. Your throat began to close as tears threatened to tumble down your face. He had been struck over the head, that was the only logical conclusion. Head wounds bled a lot, much more than any other part of the body unless they struck a vein. This provided little solace for your scattered, panicked mind. Head wounds could also be fatal. You fingered at the softly vibrating wand in your pocket, calming your trembling slightly. He wasn’t dead, you told yourself, repeating it like a mantra as you stood up and began to make your way to the second patch of dried blood— not dead, not dead, not dead. 

One of the pairs of footprints had walked over to the second boy, the shapes noticeably smaller than the other two— perhaps a woman, or a wiry man? They seemed to take their time to get to the other boy, their footsteps precise and soft, almost dancer-like, before they became noticeably darker in the spot where they stopped. They stood there for some time— talking to him? Taunting him? Sebastian was angry, that much you could tell. His heels were dug deeper into the ground than the front of his foot, like he had skidded to a halt before quickly getting into dueling position. The trio must have had Ominis before they got to him. There was a slight dip in the ground behind his left foot, like he at one point considered turning and running for help but decided against it. It would be the biggest betrayal to him to leave a friend in need. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.

Stupid, stubborn Sebastian. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved that about him. You loved his unwavering loyalty— his bullheadedness. 

You heaved a breath, steeling yourself to approach the tree just beyond the brunette’s footprints. It truly did look like a boulder crashed into it. There was a notable concave in the front, about the diameter of a quaffle, maybe a little bit more. You approached the mark, leaning close to get an idea of what could have caused it. Your heart leapt into your throat at what you found, your hand trembling as you carefully pulled one of the loose pieces of bark away. There was more blood there— just a little bit, a small splatter from a quick impact. Nestled amongst the pale skin of the tree, much like the puddle across the clearing, were a few scattered pieces of hair. These were dark brown in color, the light making them look like bits of melted chocolate. Two head wounds— two heavily bleeding victims. 

You grappled hopelessly at the side of the tree, digging your fingernails into the bark as you leaned on it for support, dry heaving against the putrid bile that threatened to spill as the seconds ticked by. This was too much, you thought to yourself. You were never squeamish before— not when it was your own blood, your own wounds, at least. But, these were your best friends, the two people you loved more than anyone else in the world, and they were hurt. Not only that, but they were likely hurt, dying, dead, because of you. 

You thought they would be safe going to Hogsmeade without you, but it seems that they were in twice as much danger— take the fawns if you can’t get to the doe. Ominis and Sebastian, unsafe in their supposed safety. What a terrible oxymoron. 

Something small on the ground caught your attention, your eyes widening as a guttural sob poured from your tightened chest. You dropped to your knees where you stood, watching your hand from seemingly outside of your own body as your trembling fingers picked up a small, black button from the tall grass below. It was smooth in your hand as you ran your thumb across its surface, tears finally making their way down your face and splashing around it like a drizzle before a hurricane. 

You knew this button; it was the one from Sebastian’s cloak. You had been pestering him for weeks to get it fixed properly, tired of listening to him complain about having to sew it back on all the time and pricking his fingers on the needle. Whenever you offered to do it for him, or take it to Gladrags for him so Mr. Hill could do it proper, the brunette just kept shrugging you off, saying that he could fix it himself. It must have fallen off again in the struggle. 

You remembered your most recent conversation about that accursed button. You had been walking towards the Undercroft after Potions, laughing about Garreth’s most recent concoction, or more rather aptly, explosion, when the tiny black thing popped off his cloak, rolling away and lodging itself underneath one of the benches in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Sebastian sighed, a groan falling from his mouth as he leaned his head against the nearest column in annoyance, lightly hitting his forehead against it twice before pulling away and accio-ing the button back into his hand. 

He had turned to you again, frowning at the laugh that was barely contained in your smile, before bemoaning to you like a petulant child. “I really thought I got it to stay this time!” 

You remember laughing then, your hand patting his shoulder in a placating manner. “Can I fix it for you, now?” 

He smiled as soon as you came in contact with him, only for it to turn into a faux-exasperated sigh when you spoke. His hands fell onto your shoulders as he shook you lightly, a chuckle dancing at the corners of his words. 

“Such a Hufflepuff, you are! Always offering to help me with things.” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as his voice dropped to a soft murmur. You remembered how hard your heart was beating. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so nice?” 

Your words were nothing more than a breath, a rouge blush creeping up your neck from the close proximity. If you leaned the tiniest bit closer, you could kiss him. For a moment, you thought he was going to do just that. 

“T-that’s part of my charm.” You cleared your throat, swallowing against your noticeable stutter. “How else am I going to keep you around?” 

He leaned away then, a mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth from your flustered state. “That it is. Though, I keep you around for more reasons than just your beguiling advantageousness.” 

He winked at you then before sighing again with a fake, lighthearted annoyance. “Fine, you win! You can fix my cloak. The button better stay on this time.” 

You remember the soft look that took over his face when you laughed loudly at his words, like the sun was shining on his face for the first time and all he could do was bask in its warmth, before offering you his elbow. 

“Oh how generous of you! I will get right on that, my liege.” 

You looped your arm through his, walking together once again to your little hidden piece of solitude to study and duel the rest of the day away. 

Now, in that little clearing that smelt of damp earth and old, stale blood, that tiny button had been left behind for what might be the last time. 

It was amazing, how such a small thing could have such a large impact on the world around it. 

With the weight of two lives heavy on your shoulders and the crushing pressure of heartbreak against your ribs, you finally let yourself sob, and cry, and wail, and grieve for the two friends who had been taken because of this magical gift that you never once asked for in the first place. 

Just as quick as it started, it was over. 

Ominis inhaled the air around him greedily once Leona’s hands unclenched themselves from around his throat, fighting against his body's need to drop everything and rest. His heartbeat pounded in his skull; he could feel the blood from whatever new wound he had seeping through the dirt covered floor, coating the edges of his ears and dyeing his hair a color that would rival any Weasley. The woman staggered to her feet, all of her grace gone momentarily from the obnoxious barbaric-ness of her actions. She brushed the dust from her clothes, smoothing down her wild nest of hair and wiping the fluids from her face. A sigh panted from her lips against the breaths she heaved into her throat. 

She at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of her actions. “Apologies, I lost myself there for a moment.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to the jockey closest to her. “Albathane, pick him up.” 

Her head turned to the side at the sound of the prison door being opened, Albathane’s heavy steps echoing off the walls, only for her to do a double take at the state of the other boy across from her. She smiled at his apparent distress— the tear tracks on his face, mingling with the dirt and grime that covered every inch of his skin, the delightfully crimson blood that bloomed on his knuckles, the waves of pure terror that shed from his curled form in the corner of his cage. 

She tisked, “Oh dear, that won’t do at all. No closing your eyes, little snake, I want you to see and hear every second of your friends' pain. I want you to watch me torture him and know that you could have stopped it.” A dastardly idea sparked a fuse in her brain as she got the attention of her other henchman. “Shunpike, bring him here, would you? I think it’s time we gave him a show.” 

A sinister grin spread across the face of the large man as he entered Sebastian’s cell. The boy fought desperately against the strong arms trying to corral him, throwing punches and kicks at the man but feeling no give at all in his grip— it was like fighting against a brick wall. He dragged the freckled boy out of the room by his hair, laughing at the silent swears that would make a sailor blush pouring from the brunette before aggressively shoving him against the bars holding Ominis and Leona. Shunpike grabbed Sebastian’s arms with one hand, the other still dug deep in his curls, and held him still like he weighed nothing more than a grain of sand. A look of pure horror spread across the boy’s face as he got a good, close look at his beloved— he couldn’t look away, couldn’t close his eyes even if he wanted to. 

Albathane tipped Ominis’ chair back to its upright position, yanking the blond’s head up to meet the gaze of the woman by his blood soaked hair and chuckling at the whimper of pain that exited the boy’s clenched teeth. A black eye was already beginning to bloom around the left side of his face, coloring the skin around his eye socket a concerning shade of purple and red. Leona smiled, her canines somehow more serrated and sharp like her disturbed behavior was the world's smoothest whetstone, and unsheathed the dagger hiding in her boot. The blade was curved like a raptors claw, the steel catching the bits of sunlight visible through the thick rock and revealing an intricately decorated handle. Her hand was wrapped tightly around the carving of two snakes, their bodies tangled together in a spiral up to the hilt of the blade where each of their heads were posed to strike the other. It looked like their fangs were made of actual bone— actual, real life snake fangs. Sebastian wouldn’t question it if venom was still intact in the silken teeth. The woman stalked towards Ominis, watching his resolve crumble with each step she took closer to him. He could hear the air break around her blade, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. 

With one hand, she pressed her thumb against his brow and pulled the skin taut, widening his left eye and taking away his ability to close the lid. He jerked savagely against the binds cutting into his circulation, the skin of his bare wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from the coarse rope. Panic curled its tentacles around his still hoarse throat and squeezed as he hopelessly tried to move farther away from the dangerously sharp woman and her even sharper knife. When he felt the cold, unforgiving steel press against his under-eye skin, a hair's length from the delicate film of his cornea, everything in his body stilled; even the incessant belabor of his heart ceased its movement. 

Sebastian felt bile rise in his throat. 

They weren’t even torturing them for information anymore, they were doing it because it was fun. 

Ominis’ eyes flicked back and forth in a hysteric frenzy. He had never truly wished for sight before, not really, but at that moment he couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that he couldn’t see the feral smile on Leona’s face reflect in the blade. Blood pebbled where the dagger pressed into his skin— even the lightest touch scarring him from the sharpness. The woman’s eyes were wild as she watched the red dot drip down his cheek. 

“Do you like my new toy? Goblin forged— very sharp. One wrong move and—” She made a noise akin to a pop. The boy shivered at the insinuation, a whimper falling from his lips. 

The poacher hummed in thought, pretending to ponder her next move and prolonging the dread that pooled in the blond’s eyes. “What do you think would happen if I just slipped the blade up a little further? You’re already blind, after all. It would be as easy as using a melon baller.” 

The dagger slid minutely against his skin, the blade brushing against Ominis’ bottom lashes. He croaked strangled pleas of mercy, every ounce of rebellion that had once festered within him snuffing out like a bonfire during a rainstorm. Tears spilled over the sides of the steel, trailing downwards and catching on the dueling snake fangs— little drops of haunted venom falling to the ground below and wetting the sleeves of the woman threatening his life. He dare not move a single muscle lest the anlace move higher. 

Leona snickered at the blond’s cataclysmic fear. She relinquished her hold on his head, nodding at the other poacher to do the same, and moved the knife away from Ominis’ face. He could only sigh in relief for a moment before the curved blade made contact with his thigh, cutting through the flesh like butter and nearly scraping bone. White hot agony blazed through his blood, singeing his veins from where they ended in his toes and started in his brain as he fought desperately to stay conscious. Sebastian could only describe the blond’s sound as a harrowing, unbearable howl. He had never heard anything like it before— never wanted to hear anything like it again. 

The raven-haired huntress twisted the dagger, opening the wound even more and spilling a small river of blood into the earth. Her smile was colored ravenous. 

“Last chance, tell me where I can find your little friend and we’ll let you both go.” 

Swirling deep within his soul, Ominis felt his last, atom-sized iota of bravery. He harnessed it— letting it paint war-torn masterpieces across everything he could: his eyes, the curve of his angry frown, the tautness of his shoulders, and the coldness of his voice when he finally spoke. 

“We will never tell you where they are, never in a million years, no matter how much you try to torture it out of us.” His breathing was labored underneath the bravado, each word spoken through painful seizures of his lungs as whiteness crept up the corners of his blackened vision. “We would rather die.”

Leona sighed deeply, a falsely sympathetic frown turning her lips as she brushed some of the blond tresses of the boy behind his ear and cradled his face. “Pity, this could have been so much easier. I suppose we just have to lure them here some other way. We have their name, at least, thanks to you.” 

She turned to where Shunpike stood, still pressing Sebastian’s face into the solid metal bars. “Put him back in his cage, I’m nearly finished with this one.” 

Ominis gulped, fearful of what “nearly finished” could mean. With a wave of her wand, the chair underneath the boy as well as the ropes binding him still fell away, disappearing into the magic ether and sending him tumbling to the ground. He groaned, the shocks rippling through his body and reminding him of every other injury he had sustained in his time in this personal hell. The woman stood over his crumpled form, leveling her wand on his twitching body and dealing her final blow. 

“Crucio.”

A familiar pain flooded Ominis’ senses, and silent cries scratched at his throat. 

Sebastian counted the seconds she held the boy under the spell, each passing minute sending a renewed spike of terror through his heart. 

Five minutes. She held the curse steady for five minutes before she released him. 

The blond sobbed violently into the dirt below as flashbacks sliced through his memory. The sinister voices of his father, his mother, and his siblings rang loud like a church bell in his ears— their words of pure malice cutting down to the bone. Even still with the cruelty of his family, they had never held the curse for that long. 

His voice was nothing but a meek tremble as he whimpered into the ground. “Please…please just fucking kill me.” 

Leona laughed as she walked to the cell door, turning towards the boy once more and baring her teeth in a victorious smile. “Now where would the fun in that be?” 

She callously depulso’d him into the wall, watching as his head smacked backwards into the stone with a sickening crack. 

Shooting a wink at the trembling brunette and admiring the resignation in his tear-filled eyes, a distinct opposition of the living spark they once held, she took the arms of her partners and disappeared as quickly as they came. 

No matter how loud Sebastian yelled, how hard he pounded on the iron bars, Ominis did not move again.

***

like what you read? here's more!

[usagirln12003]

Vance Hopper: Hogwarts AU

Vance Hopper is a Half-Blood wizard that was born on the 18th of August 1982 and started attending Hogwarts on the 1st of September 1993, being sorted into Gryffindor House.

He had a Blackthorn wand with a Dragon Heartstring core.

His Patronus was Non-Corporeal.

His favorite subject was Defense Against the Dark Arts and his least favorite subject was History of Magic.

He was one of Gryffindor's Chasers from his third year until his kidnapping in his fifth.

Vance was a local punk and school bully from Gryffindor House, whom Finney was afraid of. During a flashback, he beats up a pair of kids who mess up his gobstone game, and ends up being taken away by the professors, which was witnessed by Gwen in one of her visions as she searches for her brother. Before his kidnapping, he was classified the strongest duelist by students. Robin soon took over that title after his kidnapping.

[freerangeranger]

👽- What is a major headcanon that you made for your canon? Does it apply to how you see all pokemon canon?

👋 - What other blogs canonically exist in your world? This can be mutuals, people you like, or people who you agree with.

👽 Okay this is a hot take - but legendaries are not gods. I had a great discussion with some friends about this recently. Pokemon comes from a very different culture and understanding of religion than western media. Christianity has a long history of persecution in Japan - it has basically no cultural impact by comparison to Europe and America beyond pop culture use of christian iconography. There are Christians in Japan, but they make up 1-2% of the population.

If I were to sit down and write out a religion for - let's say the Kimono Girls and the Tin Tower Monks - I would turn to Shinto or Buddhist traditions for inspiration rather than Christian and Catholic dogma (which I am arguably more familiar with being a white person living in the Americas.)

The funny thing is that this isn't really a hot take looking at Pokemon canon. People really don't know anything about Arceus, Palkia, Dialga, Giratina, ect (which is like the closest we have to proper deities). The legendaries that are acknowledged aren't treated like omnipotent beings - more like powerful creatures to be respected and appeased. Would be kinda weird if your god could choke on a ratatta and die or get bodied by a 12 year old and their weird dog.

So yea. Long story short - Honey doesn't think Ho Oh is a god. She thinks it's a powerful pokemon that should be nurtured, and its home defended so that it returns to Ecruteak and uses it's awesome power in the service of the people. Her hometown of Blackthorn worships Dragons - which are clearly not gods but are still powerful and worthy of appeasement and tribute. Do what you want with your own character's beliefs but consider it. Could be fun to expand cultural horizons.

Or just make Arceus "Poke-Jesus", I'm not your mom.

👋 My personal blogs @/therangerunionoffical, @/xxumbreonespeonxx and @/prettyskitty973 are all in the same universe. (I have another blog on the way but it is very much a work in progress.)

The blogs that I actively interact with include @/paldean-ranger-brandy, @/professor-amaryllis, @/iheartnimbassacity, @/touya-san, @/skygodtraumabond @/aura-acolyte, @/galar-ranger-magnus, @/ringtownrangerlark and @/misdreavusmishap (among others.)

By extension this means that @/dustbuneary, @/meltanfan395, @/teamphobia, @/teamgamble, @/pokemonshelterstories, @/prof-lemon, @/sneasedtomeetyou, @/skrub-dubs, @/corkycare, @/fox-poke-fanatic, @/koffing-time, @/coinflipshade, @/eartheats *deep breath* @/floaroma-sanctuary, @/caoimhe-from-hoenn, @/the-koiking-pond, @/pokemoncenter, @/teamwinterofficial, @/pkmnsciencej... are all in the same universe. i have absolutely forgotten so many people i apologize in advance