#rune readers of tumblr

[the-golden-comet]

✨ First/Last Line Tag 🌺 ✨

Thank you so much for tagging me, @tragedycoded , @willtheweaver here, @drchenquill here, @the-inkwell-variable here, @theink-stainedfolk here, and here @mrbexwrites !! I finally have enough of ITROG down that I can participate in this one! ✨

From my current WIP, here’s a glimpse of Tyrell ✨

First Line: “GOT IT!!”

Last Line: Tyrell jumped when he felt a warm palm on his shoulder. It hadn’t dawned on the hunter that his face was wet with hot, enraged tears. How long had he been crying? When was the last time he did?

I’m going to tag the following people (no pressure): @gioiaalbanoart , @cowboybrunch , @legalownerofufoemoji , @alinacapellabooks , @wyked-ao3 , @jev-urisk , @paeliae-occasionally , @illarian-rambling , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @quillswriting , @theaistired , @drchenquill , @theink-stainedfolk , @the-inkwell-variable , @yourpenpaldee , @ominous-feychild , @mysticstarlightduck , @lavender-gloom , @nczaversnick , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lamuradex , @seastarblue , @theeccentricraven , @autism-purgatory , @vesanal , @thecoolerlucky , +open to anyone else who wants to join ✨

I hope everyone had, and is having, a Happy Holidays! 💫✨

[stormylewirmy]

Posting Elvenking fanart when you guys least expect it

[ominous-feychild]

i don't know how to word this, so i'm just gonna say

sammy. breaking the rules. <- that stuff. please elaborate if there is any coherence in this request

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY SENT AN ASK!!! (people actually do that for non-ask posts???)

Okay, to be completely honest, I think we had a misunderstanding! (I was exhausted when typing that up and was just about to sleep--) I meant that you could/should ask about Sammy, but I wouldn't answer about his magic... but I've done some thinking.

I'll tell you a bit about his magic. 👀

Fair warning: long post!!!

The Way Magic Works™

So, magic. I'll definitely give a much more in-depth explanation one day--I know @honeybewrites REALLY wants one 😂--but I need to give a bit of an explanation here for you to be able to understand why Sammy is Special™.

In my writing, there's technically four different kinds of magic. I describe them as such:

Existential (all-encompassing and literal)

Axiomatic (abstract and "type-casted")

Faerie (abstract and encompassing)

Runic (wizards hurrr durrr)

Each "kind" of magic is named, appropriately, by its source--Existential magic comes from the Existential gods, Axiomatic magic comes from axiom, Faerie magic (or "pure" magic) comes from the Faewildes and is typically associated with faeries, and runic magic originated from the runes non-magical people used in an attempt to match the power of the others.

(I mean, technically runic magic itself is a combination of axiomatic and faerie magic, but--)

Essence Is Equivalent

The one thing all kinds of magic have in common is their shared resource--essence. No matter what kind of magic you use, you're always using up essence in order to do it. The same magical tasks always cost the same amount of essence, meaning the only way to "advance" in magic-casting is to grow your mana pool.

Except for runic magic, but we'll get into that later--

(I hop between using "essence" and "mana" for this explanation, but in-universe it's always called "essence". As a fan of DnD and fantasy games, sometimes using the word "mana" makes more sense to me, haha. Idk if that understanding applies to everyone, but. Essence is essentially just "magical energy".)

Long story short--let's say we have four different people, each with their magic coming from one of each of the different sources. Except, they all have Water magic.

Existential user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x amount of essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes .5x essence

Wait, what? Okay, let's try that again--

A different Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes 1.7x essence

A third Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

What??? What's the deal with that???

Well, this isn't the time to explain Runic magic in-depth, but long story short? Let's just say it's because they're not doing magic "normally". The other kinds of magic users will always use the same amount of essence, so we'll just stop including the variety for now. Just know it'll be the same amount by default. Except... you won't often run into "default" with runic users. Regardless!

Existential user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

The first Runic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 500x essence

As you can see, it's all equivalent. Both across "types" of magic and in effort-to-gain ratio. So none of them have any sort of advantage!... except literally all of them do.

Similarly, since they're all drawing from essence as their source, there's no "backup" magic system one can use if they run out. If they're out of essence, they're out--nothing they can do.

Actually, wait. I lied. (aka Essence Banks)

There's a way to store essence for later use--essence banks! Basically, they're just magical items infused with essence. They can be literally everything. Except, they aren't everything.

Confused?

Essence Banks were a runic invention and have to be engraved with appropriate runes to be able to contain essence. Some have actually been commodified and turned into "temporary conduits" (aka, items that allow a non-magic user to wield magic like a mage) through people infusing them with their essence.

This is a case where "pure" magic technically separates from a faerie's magic. Pure magic can be used for literally anything, but faeries... well, it's complicated. Regardless, pure magic originates from the Faewildes, but is different from a faerie's magic.

Pure essence can be used for anything, but an individual's essence can only be used for their respective magic type. (Like, elemental / conceptual, not Existential / Axiomatic and such. That explanation's for another day, though.) Pure magic can only be gotten from the Faewildes through the use of runic magic.

People have turned essence banks into commodities by giving them to others who don't have their magic and allowing them to use it. However, as you can probably imagine, essence banks and conduits of both kinds (permanent and temporary) are expennnnnsive!!! Most who have them use them for themselves, to store their own essence to use later.

Just know--there is no way to just "create" essence! It all comes from SOMEWHERE! The most common places are from one's self or from the Faewildes.

Essence Banks Do Not Cross "Types" Of Magic

If someone with fire magic got their hands on an essence bank with essence from someone with water magic in it, they wouldn't be able to utilize it for fire magic--only water magic.

Except... not really.

The fire user could use the essence, it would just cost a lot more of the water essence to instead use fire magic.

Why does this sound familiar...?

Hm. Anyway!

I bet you've been wondering--how does any of this relate to Sammy?

Sammy Breaks The Rules of Magic™

So, now that you have an understanding of how magic works in my stories, you can better appreciate Sammy.

Remember what I just said?

Y'know, about how magic all always costs the same amount of essence, how "types" of essence don't translate well to others, and how essence can't just be created?

Well, Sammy heard that, laughed, and said "I'm built different."

"Amplification" doesn't exist in the world of my stories. There's simply no concept of it because of how inherent the idea of "essence is always equivalent" is to magic.

Except... Sammy is an amplifier.

So what does that mean in the universe of my stories?

He's able to make others' magic use less essence. He's able to enhance their abilities, let them do things they couldn't otherwise do. And it doesn't matter what kind of magic either of them have.

Oh! And since he's the amplifier?

His other magic is also always amplified.

Yeah, long story short? He's OP af. Both as an individual, and as a support character.

CONCLUSION!

I actually can't say any more about amplifying because, omfg, it's actually such a spoiler! As I said to you (almost) yesterday, I plan out the series I write to build up to things I'm going to eventually write! Amplifiers are suuuuper important for a number of reasons and, as I said, they basically don't exist! There's only two others wandering about at the time of Rising From the Ashes (the story Sammy's in)! And one of them is a complete hermit who 99.99% of people have no idea exists!

The other... well. He's actually an avatar. An agent of one of the gods. Who knows if/when he'll ever show up? 👀

If you're curious, the (albeit vague) Overarching Goals™ of the series are as follows:

The Arcane Rifts: explores the Faewildes and some of how they've impacted the world. Specifically explores in-universe political relations of Jhandar and Glavnran; the Existential War; the Existence of Magic; and how the Existential gods mess with the world. Oh... and is Gene's origin story. 😉😘

Sun and Shadow: strongly explores the Faewildes' impact on "the Real World" through their patchworking Lynsmouth into the city it is today. Hints towards plots in RFtA and tCC. Explores faeries themselves through the Major Faerie Characters and the highlights the role of magic in society. Is intended to be an introduction into my weird worldbuilding tbh, haha. Hints at Existential War and is also where a HUGE worldwide-plot event occurs. Thanks, Quinn! 😈

Rising From the Ashes: explores in-universe political relations, more directly builds on the worldbuilding through the character of Kieran Caron and his school, does some more planting in info about the Existential War, and showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

The Calamity Crew (name to change): lots of worldbuilding through the literal crew of a merchant ship sailing across the world; builds up in-universe local Axiomatic gods; showcases the literal birth of a lesser god and explores the powers and abilities of gods; showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

I plan to somehow make stories on the Existential gods' avatars, but don't know how I'll go about that, haha. Also intend to probably make some stories REALLY early in the in-universe timeline completely taking place within the Faewildes. Might merge those ideas together, idk.

If you can't tell, the Existential gods are super important to the overarching story I plan on writing, haha. Part of how I'm planning to build them out is through the very fact that they appear everywhere.

Yknow--because they are!

They're the puppeteers manipulating the entire world in their little game. Their Existential War.

To anyone who read through this all--congrats and omfg, thank you so much???

I know this is a lot and not all of it is exactly easy to understand, haha. I wanted to create a magic system that felt magical, but also was planted in "real" stuff like conservation of matter, haha. I want there to be, like, a limit to it, but also for things to have those good 'ole fashioned "fairy tale"/"gods rule over us all" vibes. Hopefully I've done a good job!

Tysm again and feel free to reblog and share!

Tagging list: @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star @aalinaaaaaa

@paeliae-occasionally ; to anyone else, ask and ye shall be added!

Divider from @cafekitsune

[saganssorcery]

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Disclaimer: While the writing on this page is written by myself ©Sagans Sorcery 🔥🖋️ I borrow images from the internet. I do not claim or own any rights to the images I have used. All rights belong to the original creator(s) to whom I always attempt to credit. If you are the original creator(s) and wish for me to remove an image I have posted please send me a Direct Message and I will do so as soon as I see the message. The advice given on this page is by no means meant to substitute financial, legal, medical, or otherwise professional advice. If you have any problems that require financial, legal, medical, or otherwise professional advice, please seek a professional. All readings should be considered for entertainment purposes only. All readings are subjective and open to your own interpretation and judgement. All clients have their own free will and hold personal responsibility for any decisions made based on their reading. I reserve the right to remove anyone or anything from this page at any point, toxic behavior will not be tolerated and action will be taken accordingly. The use of any of my private magickal services require my consent first. Feel free to drop me a message. All direct messages are entirely private and confidential. Updated: 21/05/2024

[magicruned]

everyone else in the tags obsessing over the (bayverse) transformers: they're so hot

me obsessing over the (bayverse) transformers: theyre just little guys!

[pagansheowl]

Hi! I'll be grateful if you click on this link, donate or simply reblog this post 🌹I need to earn enough money to solve problems and pay bills, so I'll be giving Tarot or Rune readings to anyone who donates me at least 5$ - simple but deepening question. 10$ analysis of person, situation or relationship. 15$- a Celtic Cross Reading (when you don't want to ask questions but look at an entire situation). 20$ general reading (3 topics, advices and 3 questions). 30$ year reading, very extense.

[livingfictionsystem]

Book club today!

Taking a lot of self-control not to read this all in one go.

-Rune 💠

[moonlightsdelights]

Looking for insights into your future? Come visit our divination business!

At our divination business, our experienced reader use different methods like tarot cards, runes , and oracle cards to help you gain a deeper understanding of your life and guide you towards a brighter future. Whether you're struggling with love, career, or just feeling lost, we're here to help you find clarity and peace.

[damoreschool]

Now selling Magpie Tarot Readings for $22. Guaranteed to last at least 22 minutes, but I'm often generous with my time. I also read Runes and Ogham and I can even do all three of you like. Any number of questions on any subject, the only limit is time. No cute packages or gimmicky stuff here, just a truly skilled psychic reader with a very powerful individually curated deck and over 20 years experience with magic and the occult.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello! I really enjoyed your fic with the Tav who couldn’t see well. It was really sweet! If you’re still accepting requests, may I request a similar one where the reader needs glasses to see and during a battle they break or get lost. Now they can’t see well and they’re trying not to panic while there’s threats everywhere, but thankfully Astarion notices something’s wrong and helps them. Thank you!

Admiring from Afar (GN! AFAB Reader x Astarion) Part 1- MDNI 18+ ONLY

Part Title is inspired by the song “She” by Dodie (I feel like it reflects Astarion’s POV/feelings towards Tav in this story)

This was not originally supposed to be as long as it is, but the concept started taking on a life of it's own. I hope you enjoy! I will hopefully be positing Part 2 within the next few days!

  CW: Angst (?), violence, jealousy, fluffy (hopefully very? But who knows), smut because apparently I’m in a giving mood (I’m sorry I had to make the joke.), MDNI 18+ only, dom/sub sexual relationship.

Note- this is Unascended Astarion x GN! reader

*This has been proof read one time. It is 2:04 am and I have work in 6 hours LMFAO

Gif belongs to- ibacchante from Tumblr!

    The campfire crackles in the distance and you think you even hear the faint sound of music.  You desperately yearn to be near the warmth of the fire talking to or watching one of your companions give a dramatic retelling of their experiences in battle.

  The warmth of your companions made places like the Shadow-Curse Land feel a lot less scary and foreign- they provide some normalcy in this strange journey. 

Unfortunately, you are hunched over in your cold tent with nothing but a light cantrip and your will power. You squint as you etch details into the oxen bone, taking the time to add the touches of silvery white dye to add an ethereal effect. Your hands cramp as you work to keep the paint within the designs you carved into the bone.

You have been painstakingly working on this necklace for a little over a month- maybe two? You have lost count at this point, but the calluses on your fingers tell you it’s been a while now since you started this project.

  You polish the bone with your cloth, wiping away the debris from your knife. You admire your handiwork; a perfect carving of the Elven Rune- Cadaith. You were able to create a loop at the top of the necklace for the long, thin, black leather strip you had been holding onto since the day after the Tiefling party- the same day you decided to take on this hand numbing project.

  You and your crew of oddballs had come through for the locals and obliterated the Goblin Camp Leaders- the tieflings had come to your camp and had decided to celebrate.

  It wasn’t that you were opposed to parties, but you’re not the most social person despite your profession as an Artisan. You miss the calm, quiet group of Druids you used to travel with- you even miss the hardwood floor of the Caravans and how much of a pain in the ass they were to fix. You miss not having to spend every waking moment and all of your strength on battling and the art of deception. You miss your tools and the landscapes you use to find your resources. You love to make crafts out of anything in the wild.

 Back to the rowdy tiefling party- again, you aren’t necessarily against parties, but they are overwhelming.

And the men! They are entirely too vulgar after a couple drinks. Silvanus help you if you had another drunk man stumble up to you and ask if he can, “fuck your brains out.” 

 Another man had begun to make his way towards you when you felt a cold hand grab you by the elbow and haul you off into the forest. It had been Astarion- who you had agreed to share a bed with that night. You had shared a bed before- after a camp party to celebrate killing Auntie Ethel, but nothing could have prepared you for the second time and how mind-blowing it would be (you had been excruciatingly awkward as it was your first time ever- he was pretty understanding thank Gods).

  “Astarion-”

  “Yes Darling?”

   He stops and looks at you- you look around and realize you are far from camp. You fiddle with your hands nervously- picking at your nails. 

“I um-” you clear your throat, “I really appreciate you- well- um… coming to my rescue, but I really don’t want to be a bother to you- you don’t need to stay wit-”

 You hadn’t been able to finish your sentence before he was gently kissing you. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your glasses are entirely foggy from your breathing and you smile at him coyly as he pulls away. He gives you a genuine, real laugh before taking your glasses off and wiping them clean for you. You put them on, your eyes back in focus as you avoid his eyes.

He leans in and begins kissing along your neck, along your jawline, and back to your lips. He kisses you roughly, his tongue flicking across your lower lip, asking for access. He lifts you up from under your thighs before backing you into a tree. 

  He grinds up into you- his erection pressed against the burning heat in your core. He pulls at your shirt strings and gives you a look as if to ask if he can continue. You grab his face in your hands and kiss him as an answer to his question. 

  He discards your shirt and makes quick work of your trousers and under garments- all while kissing you so deeply the world is spinning and your entire body feels numb. 

  Suddenly he has you on your back as he smiles down at you mischievously. You look away, embarrassed as he takes in the sight of your body; a breathy chuckle leaves his lips as he gets up and makes quick work of his own clothes.

 You feel the space between your legs grow warmer and needier as you watch him stroke himself before he settles himself between your legs. He presses soft kisses all over your face as he inserts a finger between your folds and begins to toy with your clit. You whimper and moan as he pumps his finger in and out of you.

  “Good girl,” he growls into your ear and inserts another finger, picking up the pace.

  A soft, gasp escapes your lips as your walls stretch to fit around his other finger- getting to the point of borderline tears as you feel your orgasm get closer and closer. Astarion watches you use a stream of profanities, your hands gripping the grass so hard it's ripping. He kisses you on your forehead then- he stops. 

 You keen in protest from the emptiness between your thighs, but your words die on your lips as he pushes himself all the way between your folds, all the way to the hilt. You claw at his back, a pleased whimper escaping your mouth. He begins to kiss your jaw before you capture his lips with yours- he’s still not moving inside of you as you kiss him feverishly- your hands entangling themselves in his hair. He groans against your lips, holding you down by your waist and not allowing you to move. When you attempt to move your hips upward, desperate to get some friction, he groans in your mouth before pulling out completely and then thrusting himself roughly back into you. You look at him in anticipation as he gets off of you, still inside you as he adjusts your left leg so that he can get more access and he begins to massage your sore, neglected nipples with his fingers. 

You are desperate for any movement from him and you can tell he knows it- even in your drunken haze. 

 “Please.”

“Please what, my dear?”

 He says before pulling out to thrust into you completely again. You cry out, tears streaming down your face as you look away from him, trying not to let him have the satisfaction.. 

  He hums as he roughly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes.

 “Tell me, Darling,” a sly, teasing smile on his beautiful face, “do you want me to fuck your brains out?”

You nod and he pinches your nipples roughly- you arch your back and you feel him lift your hips up before spanking you hard.

"You don't get anything until you answer my question," he goads, his hand snaking it's way around your throat, "so tell me, do you want me to fuck your brains out?"

"Y-es. Yes I want you to fuck me ple-" he cuts you off with a snap of his hips.

He grabs your jaw roughly with his hands, "You know that's not what I asked you."

He begins to slowly move in and out of you, teasing you mercilessly. You groan in frustration- he knows he’s the only person who can say this to you and demand you to say it back to him.

"Please Astarion," you say tearfully, your need for pleasure taking over, "please fuck my brains out."

He smiles at you widely, "it would be my pleasure."

You whine and he pulls out of you, rolling you over onto your hands and knees. He comes up behind you and his hands find purchase in your hair as he begins to pound into your mercilessly. You lose yourself in pleasure- surely alerting everyone and their mothers to your activites- and if it's not the vulgar moans, it's the filthy sound of your bodies colliding.

He pulls you up to his chest by your hair, switching to putting his hand around the upper part of your throat, and puts his fangs to your neck, teasing the skin as he fucks up into you. You have one of your hands wrapped around his arm as he chokes you and the other is touching your clit- the coil of pleasure building up in your stomach as you whisper your consent between moans for Astarion to drink from you. He gives you a pleased hum in response.

The moment his fangs are piercing your neck is the same moment your orgasm rips through you and you have to fight not to slump against him. You feel his strong arms hold you up as he keeps fucking your sensitive mound, chasing his own orgasm. He stops sucking from the bite marks on your neck, lapping up the blood that begins to slowly trickle down towards your shoulders and chest. He let’s go of his grip on your throat and pushes you back onto your belly before roughly inserting himself inside you again.

"You are such a good girl," he grunts, "you are taking me so fucking well."

You begin to feel lightheaded when he finally cums inside you. Good thing you have a potion for that.

You both get your clothes on and he whisks you away to his tent- where you cuddled and talked for almost the entire night.

  The sex, as noted, is amazing, but you also enjoy so much more of him than just his body. You know Astarion struggles to believe you find anything about him interesting outside of sex, so you make a point of reminding him about all the other wonderful parts of him and you don't ever ask for sex or sexual favors. That ball is in his playing field as far as you are concerned.

You find yourself gravitating back to Astarion’s tent every night to listen about a new book he is reading or just to let him shower you with (arguably) questionable knowledge about the higher ups in Badlur's Gate . Sometimes you just talk about your lives, tangled in each other’s embraces, and falling asleep that way.

You had begun sleeping in the same tent shortly after he drank from you for the first time. You had been scared during a storm one night and he had heard you sniffling in your tent. You missed the safety of your Caravan during those first two weeks. 

  He had quickly dragged you over to his tent- griping about his hair, how “I told you that you needed better camping equipment”, and “really darling? Why are you wearing clothes with holes in them? No wonder you’re scared.”

    You have had an incredibly close bond ever since and you speak very freely with one another. You still become closed off every now and then (mostly from being socially and emotionally exhausted) but he was content to sit in the silence and just be in each other’s company. If he's in a grouchy mood, you sit with him in silence or let him just talk at you, and you support him when he wakes up from a particularly grueling nightmare. You rarely, if ever, go to your tent or stay in your tent anymore.

  However, your current passion project was not to be seen by his eyes until it was completely finished- hence the reason why you are in your freezing, semi abandoned tent. You enchant the amulet with “Invisibility” and after a test, you can proudly say your necklace for Astarion is ready.

  Shortly after the fight with the Goblins, Astarion had been complaining to you about how Gale “ate” the last necklace of Invisibility that they had found. 

  “He did call finders-keepers.”

 “Finders-keepers my ass, Darling. If he really believed that rule he wouldn’t have inhaled it the way he did right after finding it.”

  “It was rather unbecoming of him, wasn’t it?”

 “Cazador has done a lot of horrible, vile things to me over the last two centuries,” he scoffs, “but, Gale eating a perfectly good Amulet of Invisibility has somehow landed in the top 20 of worst things to happen to me.” 

  After that, you began your work on the Amulet and now that it’s finished- you get to give it to him.

 The idea makes your stomach turn. 

  What if he hates it?

  It’s not really his style, but you don’t make gaudy jewelry and you tried your best to make it look like it shimmers (you succeeded FYI, Nat 20 all the way). You hope he appreciates it on principle alone and doesn’t criticize you too harshly if he dislikes it. When you ran the idea by Karlach and showed her your sketch, she was immediately convinced that he would adore your gift.

“Don’t worry about a thing Soldier,” she said cheerily, “Fangs is going to adore it as much as he adores you!”

  You wrap the necklace in the nice, silk handkerchief and stuff it into the little leather bag. You take one final deep breath before pushing through the tent flap. You look around camp and see that mostly everyone is in their tent- Astarion included- but Wyll is by the fire dancing. You remember joking about him giving a demonstration for the camp. As you begin to walk towards Astarion’s tent- Wyll calls out to you.

 “Tav,” he says brightly, “join me for a dance?”

 Another thing you love about Astarion- he is very good at telling people ‘no’ for you. Yes, you should be sticking up for yourself and setting boundaries on your own. You are so wired to make everyone else happy that it impedes your ability to say no. Astarion is helping you learn and supports you when you freeze up, but Astarion is not here in this moment and if he hears what Wyll has said to you- he has made no indication of it.

  You smile tightly and put the pouch in your pocket before taking his hand. You are basically robotic as you go through the motions and yet- for some Gods forsaken reason Wyll plants a kiss right on your lips. As he pulls back and sees your look of absolute horror- he begins to apologize profusely. 

 “Honestly Wyll,” you awkwardly squeak out,”it’s totally fine. I just- um- well… I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.”

 “I understand and as disappointed as I am- I am grateful for your forgiveness and I hope we can remain friends.”

 You smile brightly, “Thank you Wyll and of course. Good night.”

 He bids you farewell and you walk with extra pep in your step. You set a boundary and you are over the moon excited to share with Astarion. 

  Except when you get inside the tent- all of your stuff is right in the entryway. Astarion has his back facing you and is pretending to be interested in a book. You frown.

 “Star?”

 “Oh don’t worry Darling- I figured I would save you the uncomfortable conversation,” he says with apathy in his voice, “we both know those aren’t your strong suite.”

  You flinch at his cold, blank tone and the harshness of his words. You feel yourself becoming consumed with confusion and hurt. Your hand is clutching onto the pouch in your pocket. He looks at you and he looks far away despite the smile on his face.

 “Well go along now, I’m sure your new lover is waiting for you. I’m happy for you honestly,” he pauses, giving you a cold, malicious grin, “pretending to be invested in this connection has really been bothersome these last couple weeks.”

  Logically, a part of you knows he is just jealous and is lashing out. You should stay and try to explain what happened- reassure him even? 

  Emotionally? You feel like you just got stabbed over and over again. Oh and then someone came up to you and used a shocking grasp. You try to open your mouth, the tears welling in your eyes as you look at him. 

  He just looks at you coldly, “Well, leave.”

  You wordlessly nod, dropping the leather pouch back into your pocket and you grab your things and numbly head back over to your tent. You roll out your bed roll and stare up at the dark tarp above your head; you let the tears stream down your face as silent sobs wrack your body. You already miss him.

 _________________________________________________

  You didn’t sleep well that night- you woke up with puffy eyes and a sore throat. You had spent the majority of the night freezing and jumping at every noise. You would get the occasional thirty minutes of sleep here and there, but if you weren’t scared awake, your bruised, broken heart woke you up. Your heart thumped unevenly all night- worried the bumps in the night were Astarion packing up his things and leaving. 

  Your chest aches as you get ready to leave and you are grateful that the Shadow-Cursed Lands are so poorly lit because it allows you to hide the rough night you have. You are also grateful to see Astarion is still here.

You, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll set out to explore more of the Shadowlands. Karlach told Astarion he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to- you were too tired to say anything in response to his complaints and you suppose Karlach became fed up. He’s quiet after that, so quiet you think he might have left. Except you hear him chatting with Wyll during a short rest.

  Shadowheart walks happily next to you- chittering about Dark Justiciars and how she can feel Shar or whatever. You are just trying to focus on her and stop thinking about him. You have been successful in avoiding him and not looking at him for the entirety of the morning and you need to keep it that way. 

  _________________________________________________

   Astarion can’t place where in the conversation he went wrong, but the fight with Malus Thorm has been nothing short of a disaster. The Sisters are ruthless and Malus is much stronger than any of them anticipated at first glance.

  Astarion usually fights right at your side, but he assumes that your new lover will be keeping you safe. He suppresses the bile and tears that threaten to come up. He has your protection still and he knows that because Wyll would have thrown him out of camp otherwise. He was never meant to end up with you- you were always meant to be a means to an end.

If anything, he should be thrilled for you. Wyll is a good, decent man and much worthier of your affections than Astarion could ever be.

 So why does it hurt so fucking much? And why did he want to kick Wyll over a ravine when he kissed you?

He shakes the thought as he strikes down two more Sisters. He steals a glance in Wyll’s direction (to check on you) and immediately notices that you are nowhere in the premises and the Blade of Frontiers was battling with Karlach. Astarion scans the room in a frenzy of panic.

   He turns around just in time to see Malus lift you up by your neck and fling you into a column. Your glasses fell to the ground as your back makes contact with the stone and the sound of shattering bones echoes through the room as the Sisters begin to move forward.

 Astarion watches in horror as you are struggling to pop up and begin touching the floor around you , but by the time you seem to realize finding your glasses is a moot effort- the Sisters descend on you as Malus turns his attention to Wyll and Karlach.

  Wyll acknowledges what just happened, but doesn’t go to help you. Anger rips through Astarion like a wildfire as Wyll turns and tells Shadowheart you need help. He’s about to help Malus take out Wyll- until another scream for help pierces the air as you throw random cantrips at your attackers.

 Astarion rushes forward, cutting his way through the remaining Sisters in the middle of the room. He really could give a shit less at this time if it pisses Wyll off that he was the one who protected you- in fact, he’s probably going to be stabbing Wyll when you all get back to camp. 

  Astarion destroys the Sisters surrounding you in a flurry of gore and steel. He ignores his other companions as he searches for you frantically. 

  You had disappeared by the time he came to your aid. Astarion knows that you have a tendency to slip into your Cat form when you are particularly scared and can’t see- using the animal’s powerful nose to guide you away from danger. 

 Astarion goes near the beds and crouches down- a sigh escaping his lips. 

  All 8 pounds of you and your black fluff is crouched under the bed and you hiss in surprise when he clicks his tongue at you. You squint your eyes at him before sniffing the air. You cautiously walk forward and sniff his outreached hand. You begin to purr loudly and rub your head against his knuckles.

 He laughs with a mix of hysteria and joy as the realization that you are okay settles into his bones.

 “It’s okay Little Love, the Sisters are dead,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry, I should have been next to you. I just assumed a beast with such prowess as yourself would be able to fend for themselves.”

 You meow in indignation as you climb on top of him to bite the tip of his nose and he can’t help but laugh. 

“Does your ego hurt less now, Little Love?”

You give him an amused look that makes him bust out laughing again.

He had asked you once why you were just a Black domestic cat instead of a Panther. You had argued that you are just as ferocious as a Panther in that form. Not to mention, you would have a better chance of shooting an arrow straight than turning into a Panther, but you weren’t about to admit that (even though he knows). 

   Astarion scoops you up in his arms and pauses- the smell of your blood floods his senses. He grabs you by your scruff and you yelp as he inspects you for injuries. 

  You scratch at his hand and he drops you. You yowl in pain and leer at him as you begin to change back into your humanoid form. 

If Astarion was capable of feinting, this would have been that moment. He drops to his knees beside you and begins trying to find a healing potion to take the edge off.

  You have a compound fracture where your shin was and it’s bleeding heavily. Your right shoulder is out of place, your left wrist is twisted in an atypical fashion, and your left cheek is blooming with an angry, purple bruise. He winces when you inhale a sharp breath as you try to breathe in, clutching at your rib cage. 

He doesn’t catch the choked gasp that climbs up his throat in time- your eyes search for him in the dark before finally settling on him.

“Your beautiful eyes are really helpful when it’s blurry.”

Your voice is so tired and he can hear the pain in your voice.

“How come?”

“I can actually find you,” you pause, “you make me feel safe.”

  You look at him, your eyes glassy with shock. You smile brightly at him and he smiles brightly back at you. He never thought anyone would associate him with protection, safety. Your words echo in his brain.

You’re make me feel safe.

You go to say something again before you look at him with wide, scared eyes and promptly lose consciousness. The scream that comes out of his mouth is foreign to his own ears. It sounds fearful, angry- heartbroken. Astarion tries to shake you awake, yelling your name over and over.

 “Please wake up Darling- you’re safe,” he whispers through choked sobs, “come back to me please.” 

Nothing. He can barely tell if you are breathing still as your heart thuds softly in your chest. He calls for Shadowheart two, three, four more times.

"Please," he whimpers, "I don't want to have to be without you forever- I can't be."

  The weight of his words hits him like a train- his plan had well and truly failed. Under normal, non- life threatening emergency situations, he would probably panic about the strength of his emotions. Instead, he sits here begging for the chance to be able to tell you how he really feels. He wants to move so badly, to drag Shadowheart over here to heal you, but he can't bare to leave you in your vulnerable state. He keeps calling for Shadowheart- his voice begins to crack.

Astarion feels the worst of his anxieties vanish as you suddenly start taking long, ragged, tired breaths. He grabs a healing potion out of his pocket and tilts your head as he pours it into your mouth. You swallow the fluid gingerly. Your eyes are barely open when he hears you communicate through the tadpole.

Thank you for saving me. Again.

Astarion slowly strokes the side of your face, brushing the flyaway hairs out of your eyes.

"I saved you for my own selfish reasons," he whispers, while taking your right hand gently, "close your eyes and rest- I will keep you safe. Shadowheart is coming."

You nod lazily before closing your eyes, your hand in his still. Astarion sighs in relief when your breathing gets stronger, but he is no healer. Where the hells is that damn Cleric!?

 “Shadowheart!!!!”

[that-student-that-has-homework]

The Rationality of Emotion

Al-Haitham / Reader Chapters: Chp 1 | Chp 2

Read the Full Story on Ao3 | Tumblr MasterList Here (Maybe even leave me a comment please? :3< )

Summary: Kaveh simply couldn't believe that Al-Haitham was going to marry before him! Not that ill-tempered, bullheaded, brutish excuse for a man! Not just that! The rational brute was marrying the Emotional Scholar, of all people! Rationality and Emotion? Marrying? How could this be possible?! --o-- A story in which: you just wanted help reading some runes, your parents wanted to you to marry, Al-Haitham wanted a cover story for when he went out into the desert, and Kaveh is...well...he's...he's there for you. Needless to say you're now all one big happy (?) family!

Chapter 1: Unexpected

The sun had long since set, the moon, or what of it could be seen anyway - it had phases and for all he knew it could be a new moon tonight, he’s been rather preoccupied with his latest design and hadn’t had the chance to admire the lovely glowing orb. 

Hmph. 

That annoying roommate (effectively a tyrannical landlord despite his grace in allowing him to stay with him-this man operates in paradoxes doesn’t he?) of his would argue that - actually most students would argue that the moon doesn’t in fact emit any light, rather it reflects the light of the sun and whatnot. Yes, he was very well aware, thank you very much, he’d studied elementary physics as well.

In fact he was likely more knowledgeable in physics than that linguist. He was an architect, an engineer.

Nevermind all that, what was important was that it was late and his roommate had yet to return, much to his pleasure really. It wasn’t uncommon that he’d be out late or even go for trips without warning, perhaps this was one of those blessed situations where he would be able to go for days without seeing him. Lovely.

Of course things could not always be so delightful, as the architectural genius (yes he truly was a marvel) had just about completed the application of his honey mask that he heard the door open. He’d rather not be seen with his face covered in honey, not that he really cared if that excessively confident junior of his saw him in such a state, he simply wasn’t in the mood to explain himself.

“Kaveh,” oh how unusual for him to approach him first.

“What is it? I’m busy,” the man in question said as he made sure that he had in fact covered the entirety of his face in honey.

“Is that so?” Came the unimpressed reply. “Suit yourself.”

Suit himself? What on Teyvat? Appearances be damned. Kaveh made his way out to the kitchen; he had to wash his hands and return the honey jar either way after all. Once that task was dealt with he approached his housemate who…

Where was he?

The sounds of running water from the restroom gave away the scribe’s location. Perhaps it really wasn’t all that important after all. For all he knew, Al-Haitham was probably about to inform of something truly infuriating and pointless to him.

-_-

The following week he found the parts to a new piece of furniture, a bed, in one corner of the salon. Oddly enough it was wider than the standard size, perhaps a queen sized bed? How peculiar, from what he’d witnessed of the prickly scholar he didn’t care for such extravagance. No matter, it wasn’t any of his business anyway.

The day after that the architect returned late at night to see a new pile of wood in the salon. Seems the scribe really was upgrading his furniture. Kaveh moved to inspect the craftsmanship on the wood. Al-Haitham had taste, as much as he hated to admit it. Though it was simple, it was tasteful, and would likely not go out of style any time soon.

The following night the reputable architect pulled an all-nighter at his atelier in the Akademiya, working diligently to complete a blueprint, and only managed to finally return to his shared accommodations the night after. Which coincidentally was when things truly became strange. The third room in the house, which was mostly used for storage, was now occupied with that large bed he’d seen before, a closet, and yet another pile of wood in a corner of the room.

Just what on Teyvat was going on?

No sooner had he thought that, then the door had opened, the owner of the house marching in. Excellent timing, truly, he needed an explanation for all of these changes.

“Just what is going on here?” He asked, gesturing to the former storage room.

The pleasant expression the scribe seemed to have before dropped, vanishing without a trace. Wait - pleasant expression? Unless he was reading a book, or things were going his way, that was rare. Was this all an elaborate plot to mess with him? Nevermind that!

“Isn’t it obvious?” The scribe returned.

Kaveh stared at him in silence. 

Obvious? Obvious he says? It was so deep into obscurity that there couldn’t be anything remotely obvious about it. It might as well be the Abyss!

“Had it been obvious I wouldn’t find the need to ask you, now would I?” He sighed.

“You have a tendency to ask about the obvious with little thought,” his junior shrugged, “have you given the situation any thought prior to asking?”

“I’ve given it plenty of thought,” much more than it deserved really, “I was under the impression you were changing your furniture.”

The unimpressed expression his housemate gave him was truly punchable. Clenching his fists to restrain himself from physically attacking his housemate, he continued, “however you’ve placed them in the unused room of all places, what are you planning?”

“You got that far and still didn’t find the answer?” Dear Lesser Lord Kusanali, it was taking every fibre of his being not to grab the nearest thing-a rather large volume that the irritating man had been reading recently coincidentally-and lob it straight into his head. 

The jerk had the audacity to sigh, like he was the one who was tired, “we’re going to have another person living here soon.”

“What?”

“Is it that much of a surprise?” He moved past him to the kitchen, the architect following. “I tried to inform you earlier, however you were busy.”

“When did you-” oh. That was why the scribe had uncharacteristically approached him back then.

Nevermind that though: there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“Who? ” He had to warn them, unless they absolutely, desperately needed lodging, no! Even then! It would be best if they stayed far away from someone so insufferable. Then again he was there, he’d make it all bearable-

“My wife.”

“Your what? ” The architect looked his roommate up and down as though the signs of matrimony would magically appear upon him. “You’re married?”

“Not yet,” came the calm reply.

“You’re engaged?! ” Unbelievable! “Who in Teyvat would agree to marry you?”

“To my understanding, I’m a rather attractive candidate,” the engaged scribe returned calm as ever, “I’m able-bodied, capable of providing due to my prestigious employment, and have a respectable lineage.”

“The poor girl, what sort of trickery did you resort to?” Kaveh would have to find her and ask what possessed her to make such a horrible decision.  

“Trickery? What nonsense are you babbling about?” The scribe folded his arms across his chest.

“What sane, rational lady would agree to wed you?” He marched up to him. “What kind of things did you say to her? I didn’t even think you were capable of such speech!”

The perplexed expression that usually brought him a semblance of joy only served to fan the flames of-of…uh…of confused irritation? 

Surprise? 

Goodness! 

He was a cocktail of bewildering emotions!

“If you’re insinuating I employed dishonest methods to impress my future spouse,” oh bother, he did not have the patience to deal with Al-Haitham’s temperament on a good day - let alone when he’s as deprived of sleep as he was right now, “I’ll have to advise you: choose your next words carefully.”

“You mean to tell me she was impressed by you, as you are?” The blonde scoffed, “there’s no way she knows about your temper.” He waved his hand dismissively, after all if a lady knew of…oh no. “Unless! It can’t be!”

His housemate returned his look of horror with a bored look of his own. 

“Has she been blinded by…by…by,” dear Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word, “l-l-lo lo-loo-temporary affection,” he really couldn’t say it, “and is incapable of thinking rationally when it comes to you?”

He hated to admit it, but he has overheard ladies giggle and croon over Al-Haitham, on the rare occasion they would glimpse him. Well with how he dressed-nevermind that!

“She’s viewing you through a rose tinted lens?! She’s not in the right mindset to be making life decisions then,” oh he absolutely had to find her, “quickly tell me her name.”

To his greatest surprise, Al-Haitham had a rather smug, if small, smile upon his face, “well I can assure you that’s not the case,” he gestured in explanation, “my fiancee was not under the blinding influence of love, or as you put it ‘temporary affection,’” his expression only grew more smug, “we both came to the decision to marry after discussing it in depth and evaluating it rationally.”

Kaveh didn’t believe a word of that. Not for an instant. There was no way. Absolutely not. She had to be a convincing actress or something. 

“Impossible, you’re the only insufferable person who uses logic in these situations,” the architect denied, “she must be a very compelling actress.”

“In which case she would be the dishonest one,” his astute junior returned, “I hope you realize your response implies that she is so acutely infatuated with me she would actively seek to appeal to my personal preferences.”

Why this! 

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Disbelief contorted the architect’s pretty features into a scowl. 

The absurdity of such a notion. 

“You said she could be pretending to be rational in order to marry me. By acquiring me as a husband, she establishes an exclusive romantic claim to me and discourages most competition while maintaining leverage against the outliers. All of which would imply a very keen desire to monopolize me, hence: infatuation.”

“That’s not it at all! She could simply be in desperate need of a husband for any assortment of reasons!”

He’s been a fake lover to a lady scholar once or twice, helping them ward off unwanted attention for a while. He’d also heard some scholars complain about how their parents wishing for them to marry was getting in the way of their work. Not to mention the sheer number of scholars who married for the sake of a project or research (which was more often related to genealogy). 

There were the contract marriages of those wishing to be done with it all too. Oddly enough they were mostly successful, with feelings developing between them later.

Unfortunately this poor lady was to marry this bullheaded linguist so the chances of that were nothing short of zero, and he was being generous. On a particularly bad day Kaveh would be compelled to put that number in the negatives.

“So you mean to say you’re concerned I’m being taken advantage of?” The obstinate nuisance inquired. 

“How you arrive at these outlandish conclusions is beyond me,” Kaveh massaged his temples with one hand. 

“As is basic reasoning it would seem.”

“Excuse me?” The disrespect! 

Hmph! 

If he wants to be like that then: “you said your wife,” the poor foolish girl whom he had to rescue, “was coming to live with us.”

“Strictly speaking, given she will be mistress of this house as I am its master and she, my wife,” he spoke coolly, “you will be living with us,” 

The audacity. No matter if he was right! There were kinder ways to put it! 

Nevermind that though, “but you’re not married yet, meaning she’s your fiancée.”

“Yes.”

“Then you mean to say your fiancée is coming to live with us,” while he wasn’t usually one for semantics, he refused to yield.

“While she is currently my fiancée,” now this Haravatat scholar, definitely was a semanticist, “she won’t move in until we marry and hold the wedding ceremony. At which point she will be my wife not fiancée and as my wife she will be coming to live here, with me, as is customary of a married couple.”

“Goodness this poor girl,” well the marriage had yet to go through, “how did you manage this?”

“I proposed.”

“Clearly. No one’s going to propose to you,” Kaveh had so many questions, “But what drove you to propose?”

“Her openness to marriage, obviously” Al-Haitham’s tone revealed just how stupid he thought the inquiry was.

“That’s not-” the blonde sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose, goodness he was much too tired for this, “nevermind, who is she?”

“You’ll be meeting her soon enough.”

Ugh. As much as he wanted to save the girl, he was running at fumes and this stubborn ox of a man was not going to budge. Regrettably. 

“When is the wedding? I better be invited.”

“Yes of course,” he gestured noncommittally, “I wouldn’t dare think to exclude my own housemate.”

By the tone he was using it was clear he had considered not inviting him.

–

Kaveh felt he needed to air his grievances about this current dilemma to someone who would be able to fully understand the gravity of the situation. He was also in desperate need of inspiration, so he decided a trip to the Avidya Forest was necessary. He’d be able to kill two birds with one stone that way.

“Al-Haitham? You mean the scribe?” Tighnari’s puzzled expression brought the blonde a sense of calm.

“Yes!” Kaveh responded eagerly. “To think someone so insufferable would!” He paused in the middle of his tirade. “Who could possibly subject themselves to such misery?”

Collei, bless her, the sweet girl, came by with some fresh tea and some snacks at that moment. Her master was quick to take them off her hands, with only a small complaint from her.

“Is Al-Haitham really so bad?” She couldn’t help her curiosity.

She was fortunately spared the misery of having to meet the insufferable scholar. Kaveh couldn’t be any more thankful, truly.

“I’ve told you about what it’s been like living with him,” the architect accepted the little handleless tea cup with its plate that the forest ranger offered him, “and this is just a temporary arrangement caused by extreme circumstances. This girl is about to be permanently stuck in this situation!”

“I imagine her situation will be different from yours given she’ll be his wife,” the proficient botanist offered a cup to his pupil.

“Regardless!” Kaveh continued. “I just want to know who would be so tasteless? so blind? Who could despise themselves so much as to marry Al-Haitham?”

“Hmm, I think you’re asking the wrong question,” came the pensive response of the forest watcher. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m more interested in why he decided to get married,” Tighnari gestured, as he returned to his seat, “he doesn’t seem like the type to particularly enjoy company.”

The blonde paused. 

Truthfully that was curious.

As Tighnari had said: Al-Haitham conducted himself in a manner to ward people off. He wasn’t the type to engage in conversations for the sake of fostering friendships.

“How did this happen?” The curious architect wondered aloud. “Then again he is a man. Perhaps this is just a means to that end?”

“There are alternate solutions that are less work than marriage,” the long-eared fellow rebutted.

“This is true, however,” Kaveh squinted at nothing, frowning, “if we assess this with the rationality he’s obsessed with.”

“Oh. Then I could see why he’d consider it.”

“Yes, rather than regularly exerting effort on varying conquests that could each bring about their own problems,” the blonde pinched the rim of his tea cup, lifting it to his lips, “in this case his conquest resides in his house, requiring little effort.”

“And there would be less complications should these ‘conquests’ result in children,” the ranger added, “though there are contraceptive methods and herbs according to the literature.”

“That is a horrifying thought,” the architect shook his head.

“What is?” One of Tighnari’s ears tilted slightly to one side as if in question, before a laugh emerged from him. “Oh you mean Al-Haitham having kids?”

Kaveh simply nodded.

“Well there’s no guarantee they’ll inherit his personality, they might get their mother’s,” the botanist mused.

“Assuming her personality is radically different,” the blonde leaned back, “according to Al-Haitham he and she decided to get married after assessing it logically.”

“No two people are exactly alike, you know.”

“True, true,” he sat up again in a pensive stance, “now that you’ve mentioned it: it is curious who could have managed to earn his approval.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” Tighnari refilled Kaveh’s tea cup.

“I’ll let you know when I do.”

-_-

The Light of Kshahrewar returned to Sumeru City shortly after, full of inspiration, and even more questions.

The reclusive bookworm of a scribe…yes…who could possibly…draw his attention? Who could possibly be deemed as compatible? Possibly a person of mild temperament? Who knew?

At his atelier, the architect was very pleased to be graced with the presence of a certain Vahumana scholar, to whom he could rant endlessly about every architectural style in history. Yes, this historian was a rapt listener who delighted in the knowledge he offered and often contributed some fascinating facts as well. Facts which sometimes inspired his imagination.

A dear acquaintance.

He’d been in the middle of talking about the architecture and the engineering employed by the ancient desert civilization prior to the destruction caused by the Archon War and whatnot, when the topic of a rumored tomb dedicated to the wife of some king or another came up. 

To his surprise, he did not receive the awe and adoration he’d expected. The response was tame, and mostly curious, bordering on suspicious as the tale seemed unfamiliar to this particular historian. Not that there was any doubting Kaveh’s little fun fact! Not at all! But kings that doted on their wives were few and far between usually.

“You must admit that the notion of a man loving his wife enough to dedicate a great architectural wonder to her is a romantic one though,” the architect insisted.

“It makes for a romantic tale no doubt,” the delightful scholar smiled in concession.

“I sense there is a ‘however’ in your statement,” Kaveh folded his arms across his chest and leaned back.

“Well,” that was a rather tentative tone, “I suppose I could be overly cynical, there is an extensive library of love poems dedicated by men to their lovers.”

The architect felt his previous joy return. Ah if only Al-Haitham were so easy to reason with!

“In all honesty, I am more interested as to how this temple and the theory of it being dedicated to a king’s beloved wife came about,” ah yes spoken like a true Vahumana scholar! “I wonder what analyses and artifacts they excavated to arrive at such a conclusion.”

He hadn’t looked into it much beyond the conjectured blueprints, which were stunning - make no mistake! So, he didn’t have an answer to that. 

Oh well.

At least his enthusiasm regarding how romantic the notion was reciprocated. While the initial response betrayed his expectations: he was delighted that his point of view was now as appreciated as it ought to be. 

After all, who wouldn’t enjoy such a romantic gesture.

Oh.

He knew who.

Al-Haitham.

Hmm…perhaps he could do with a feminine opinion.

“I’d like your opinion on something,” he asked after a short lull in the conversation.

“Yes?”

“My roommate recently mentioned he’s getting married,” he paused staring at some random tile as he gathered his thoughts, “he mentioned he and his fiancée had come to the agreement to marry logically.”

Well that was a strangely awkward look he was receiving, “do you actually believe that?”

“I think people should not neglect rationality when trying to choose a spouse,” he could not believe thi- “though some attraction is also necessary.”

“You mean to say,” Kaveh took a moment to better articulate his thoughts, “love is not necessary when marrying?”

“Which form of love are you talking about?” Goodness, where did the past agreeability go? 

Ah yes! He’d forgotten a critical fact: Vahumana scholars could be just as semantic as Haravatat scholars.

His attention was brought back to the current conversation with a sigh, “I apologize Kaveh, I don’t have the energy needed for this kind of discussion today.”

Oh? Well he could understand that, it was getting to be later in the day, he’d been considering either returning home or heading out to eat.

“A rational conclusion to marry is okay in the presence of subtle attraction,” was the verdict he received.

How astonishing. He’d have expected more weight to be attributed towards emotion. After all sat before him was none other than-ah no he knew better than to use that insulting moniker.

Still he’d expected this scholar to share in his opinion. To stress the importance of love in establishing a relationship. It was strange that the opinion presented was closer to that of Al-Haitham’s. He’d never have expected it.

The well dressed artist blinked himself back into reality when a fancy looking envelope appeared in his peripheral.

“I’d originally intended to give this to you and leave you in peace,” Kaveh found himself receiving a sheepish smile, “however your discussion about the recovered architectural techniques pre-dating the archon war was enthralling! I really enjoyed it! Thank you for telling me about it!” 

The Light of Kshahrewar himself, warmed up at the appreciation expressed. With a final farewell he was left to his own devices.

Naturally his first instinct was to open the envelope. Such fancy stock, was this perhaps a confession? While the feelings wouldn’t exactly be mutual…the architect wouldn’t deny him entertaining the thought of such a relationship following a confession. Besides he could never blame anyone who found him attractive, he- 

“You are Cordially Invited to Attend the Wedding of Al-Haitham and-”

He pushed the card back down, closing the flap of the envelope. Closing his eyes and shaking his head he pulled out the card yet again…

“You are Cordially Invited to Attend the Wedding of Al-Haitham and-”

He once again put the invite into its envelope and closed the flap.

It was a wonder his eyeballs didn’t fall out of their sockets.

The mystery lady, the poor pitiful girl, his target for rescue…

Of all people… 

Al-Haitham was marrying YOU?!

[monstersandmaw]

I can't believe this story is 14.5k words long. These monthly stories are only supposed to be about 2-3k words long, but hey.

_

It's still June, just... I'm so sorry this didn't appear sooner, but it's a whopping 14.5k words long, so hopefully that makes up for it!

Content: at the end of their first year at the Royal Academy for the Magical Arts, the young, entitled son of the wealthiest family on the continent is partnered for an assignment with a diligent reader from a very humble background, and makes a very poor choice. Years later, after finishing their masters, the reader finds themself having to work with him again, only to find he's not quite as they remember this time around. Also featuring a naga bestie, adoptive dads, a badass dwarven professor, and a chunky cameo from the orc mage, Orrakh from a short story on Tumblr.

(Light spoilers) content warning: reader is drugged to render them unconscious, but nothing untoward happens while they're out, and it's facilitated by their friend. Nsfw: reader gives a blowjob in a sort of semi-public place, and receives oral in return back in private.

Wordcount: 14,565

Extract:

Ambient magicka crackled and coalesced around you, becoming little flashes of light in the air as you strode down the navy blue corridor of the astronomy wing where you’d met your friend. “I worked my ass off for that placement, Alana, and I am not going to let some gilded turd buy his way in beside me and turn it into a farce!”

The naga’s thick, serpentine tail carved a wide swathe through the other student mages as she struggled to keep up with you, until she finally grabbed at the sleeve of your dark robe and yanked you around to face her.

“Take a breath, honey,” she said, pushing her circular, gold-rimmed glasses back up her nose and blinking moss-green eyes at you from her pretty, round face with all its myriad freckles. “From what you’ve told me, Rune is a first class shit, but you’re going to have to work with him.”

“He’s not just a shit, Alana,” you fired back through gritted teeth, aware that you were drawing a bit of an audience beneath the painted vaults of the long corridor. “He’s a rich shit who thinks he can throw money at people and just walk out with whatever he wants! That isn’t going to cut it with Magister Delfan.” The dwarven professor was notoriously impatient when it came to time-wasters, but if you got on her good side, people said she was an absolute blast.

You glowered at your best friend and tried to force down a tide of emotions and memories.

“Delfan wants actual talent,” you went on in a slightly more measured voice, “And I know from experience that Rune is a lazy, good-for-nothing arsehole. I worked with him before in first year? And what the fuck is he doing on a summer placement with Delfan when he’s not even studying her subject?” you added as the realisation hit you.

Rune, rather ironically, had only studied basic runecraft with you in your first year, but had switched subjects in his second. You hadn’t kept track of what he’d been doing in the interim years, but you knew it wasn’t Delfan’s specialism of foci and auxiliary artefacts, and their use in magical rituals.

You let out a tight, wheezing huff of breath and blinked away memories of your humiliating two week project ‘with’ him. It had cost you your friendship with your then-best friend too, and that had hurt almost more than what Rune himself had done.

“If I want the Board to consider appointing me for a research fellowship, I need to finish this placement with Delfan’s endorsement. If Rune fucks this up for me because he’s bored and wants to play the academic for a while, I’m going to ring his scaly neck and turn him into a fucking golden handbag, do you understand me? I don’t care who his father is, I swear to all the gods I’ll do it.”

Alana’s expressive face suddenly struggled to keep back her rush of amusement at the image. You saw the sparkle in her eyes and rolled your own in response, but a little of your anger drained away.

“I’m sorry,” Alana snickered, “But at least you’d get a luxury handbag out of it?”

You caught her laughter and your frustration disintegrated around you like a shattered potion flask.

Still giggling, Alana put her hand on your shoulder and squeezed it as she met your gaze. “You’ll be fine. Delfan is a hard-ass and she’ll recognise your commitment, even if Milordy Goldypants puts in zero effort, alright?”

You snorted a laugh, hefted your leather satchel back onto your shoulder. You’d never told anyone else what Rune had done, apart from your parents and Alana, and the idea of having to work with him again made your stomach roil. The magic that had started to crystallise around you dissipated, but your memories of the dragonborn from your first year lingered all the same, and they were not pleasant ones.

When you’d been partnered with Rune before — when Magister Orrakh had called your name right after Rune’s — your heart had dropped to your boots and he’d flashed you a sharp-toothed grin across the small lecture hall. Sometimes Magister Orrakh taught in that larger hall, when he needed more space to show the full intricacy of a runic circuit and the way magicka flowed around the lines of chalk from rune to rune, but when he taught his theory classes, he preferred to use his small classroom. Unfortunately, that day’s class had been a practical session, and the tiered seating which gave the students at the back a better view of the experiment on the stone altar at the front of the room also gave you a good view of Rune lording it over you from the higher seating.

The dragonborn had been lounging near the back of the tiered seating on the end of the row, with his serrated tail dangling nonchalantly into the gangway that ran between the two halves of the auditorium. He was strikingly handsome, of course, with eyes the colour of back-lit amber flecked with pyrite, and his scales were a warm, honeyed yellow that gleamed almost opalescent in the sunlight streaming in through the clear, arched windows set high in the wall.

His tunic was a deep, pure black, but it had been embroidered with the most minute, fairy-wrought detailing that dizzied the eye if you looked too long at it, and he had whisper-thin, gold chains dripping from ornately engraved bands around his twin, ridged horns. The larger horn sat stacked atop the smaller, nestled close together at the root, and both followed the line of his skull back over his head to end in elegant, polished, gently-rounded points. He was so obnoxiously wealthy that even the delicate, gossamer chains were adorned with tiny flashing diamonds which sent minuscule rainbows dancing around the walls wherever he went.

You'd had nothing to do with him so far in your first year at the academy, having come from entirely different backgrounds.

There was no way the scion of the wealthiest family in the entire kingdom — richer even than the royal family, if rumours were to be believed — would look twice at the adopted child of a fisherman and a rat catcher from the dockland slums of the city. You’d fought for everything you’d ever got out of life, finally earning yourself a scholarship to the prestigious Royal Academy for the Study of Magical Arts. He’d probably got his father to buy his place, since he’d shown no real demonstrative abilities with magic.

Everything had been going so well for you until that fateful final presentation of the year when you’d been paired with Rune.

Read the whole 14.5k word story, with all its angst and feels and 'enemies to lovers' / redemption arc goodness right now on Patreon! Plus last month's story which was a whopping 13k words long!! (as well as all the other Patreon exclusive content, and don't forget there are also free stories up on Patreon as well!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Just a game

Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon!Jungkook, strangers to lovers/mates, mentions of folklore and traditions, modern fantasy, romance, human?Reader, Fluff, Courting, MC kinda wary of kook at first, but he's cute give him a chance pls

Additional Chapter Warnings: reader has some internal struggles, slight angst, fluff?

Length: Short (because tumblr eats long drafts these days)

A/N: I'm not done force-feeding you my dragon boy yet. Also thanks noni for the content ideas for this AU, I'll definitely use them well!

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

He's waiting for you to approach him, and you know that. But you're pretty much terrified of doing that- especially considering how many gifts he's already received from all those pretty dragons around him.

Every dragon learns a craft from their parents when they're young. Be it woodworking or carving, braiding, knitting- every family has something they're good at. For Jungkook's, you've learned that he's a born protector. He's not necessarily good at any delicate handcraft, but is more gifted in anything involving physical strength. He knows multiple self-defense sports according to his friend Jimin, and due to him fully embracing his dragon blood, he also knows his own, and other's, instincts very well, and is able to almost sense if someone poses a threat just by nods language and instinct alone.

Meanwhile you grew up without a functioning family. You only had your father who had to work most of the time- so you basically grew up all by yourself, and never really learned anything you could use right now to impress him.

He's going to participate in the hunt this year, and traditionally, participants will receive tokens of good luck from admirers or family. You know he's waiting for you to give him something, anything really since that would be your way of courting him as well- but there's nothing you could give him.

You suck at everything.

Compared to what you've seen others give him as an offering, your own gift feels pathetic, like an admission that you're just not fit to be a good partner for him. But you know that giving him nothing at all might confuse him- it might give him the wrong idea, could make him think that you don't like him after all, which wouldn't be true at all.

It's just that the more you start to like him, the smaller your confidence shrinks.

And you don't know what to do about it.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

You watch how he gets ready for the hunt, lanterns all around lighting up the scene. You can see the way some older woman paints his ink-free arms in runes for protection, while other younger dragons are watching, swooning and trying to see if he's wearing any of their tokens.

He's not, from what you can see.

You could just be cool and give it to him. You know he likes you enough that you could give him a handful of dirt and he'd keep it safely in his pocket during the entire hunt as to not loose it. But you want to impress him too, as impossible as that might be.

But there's nothing you've got that could do that.

He seems to look around, searching for something, when an elder calls for everyone to get to their starting spots. Your heart is racing, your eyes are stinging with unshed tears as you grip the clumsily braided bracelet, before you finally jump over your shadow.

If you don't do anything, you might loose any chance of potentially being with him- and it's just not worth it.

"Jungkook!" You call out, and he immediately turns towards you, as if relieved to see you. "I, uh.." you stammer, before you simply grab his hand, slap the bracelet in it before closing his fingers around it-

And running away to hide, because that was the most embarrassing thing you've ever done.

Unbeknownst to you, he himself is a bit caught off guard for a second, before he looks at what you've given him.

The braiding isn't very neat- it's bigger and tighter in some spots, and there's knots here and there where they shouldn't be- but it's clear that the wooden beads are handmade, and from the way you've tried to create a pattern (and the fleeting sight of your fingers covered in bandaids), he realizes how much effort you've put into it.

It makes him smile as he slips it onto his wrist, tying it tightly with the help of his teeth so he won't lose it later.

He gets to the starting point assigned to him, sleeveless top hiding none of his actual tattoos, nor his toned physique. It's just a play this time, not a serious hunt- that'll be later, in a few days. Tonight, it's just so the participants can get the layout of the woods ingraved into their minds, to become familiar with everything before actually seriously racing for their own mate.

He's not invited you yet. Has not given you a token of his own yet- his necklace being merely a way to impress you, but not an actual offering of more than just fleeting interest.

Maybe he won't invite you at all. Who knows?

But when you see your clumsily made gift on his wrist, and his eyes on you having easily found you amongst the spectators, you feel like he will.

You feel like he's made up his mind already. You feel like he knows exactly what he wants now that you've made that step towards him.

He wants you.

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

May Week 1: Diving into Divination

Alright everyone! May has arrived and this month's theme is all about divination! Everything from tarot, to runes to scrying, to other types and forms! We'll try to touch on as many as we can! Without further ado, let's dive in!

Monday - Definitions

Research/ New Page - Let's make a general divination page, and we will make more pages for each individual form of divination as we go! For this page, start with a definition of what divination is, at its base. Look up the history of divination through different cultures. Make a list of the various forms, methods, and types of divination you find. Now, what is divination used for? How has it been used through history and in various cultures? What is your experience, if any, with divination?

Research - Give each form of divination you listed a short description, as the pages we will make later will go much further into detail.

Tuesday - Tarot and Oracle

Research/ New Page - Dive in folks, look up a definition of both Tarot reading and Oracle reading, see how they are similar and different. If you’re familiar with the suits, awesome! If not we will be adding a different suit to study in the coming weeks, along with individual cards. So make a list of all the cards in a tarot and oracle deck, by suit, and we’ll get to descriptions of them all later both upright and reversed. Research traditional uses for these two types of divination, who performed them and where? What kind of questions can they help us answer? What things can they teach and show us? When does tarot reading date back to? Where did it originate? What is and can Tarot and Oracle reading be used for? Gather as much information you can and ask as many questions about the subject you can. The more you find out, the more you know, the better. 

Practical/ Journal - If you know how to perform a reading, give yourself a reading. If you are not a reader, see if you can find one. Mind you, this is a service like any other and I support all readers who charge for readings. Do not be afraid to pay for this service, as it takes another person’s time and energy. Journal both the question you asked, and the result of the reading. 

Practical - Look up various tarot spreads! Or make one of your own. There are a ton alone here on tumblr. Look into them, how to make them, what they ask, how and why and make one! Feel free to share the spread you make!

Gem study- Again, make a new page or a new note about a specific gemstone. What is it used for in magic? What is it used for in non magical applications? Is it associated with any myths, legends, or deities? Where on earth is it found? What are its other associations? 

Wednesday - Runes

Research/ New Page - As with the above, look up and define rune reading. What is it? Where did it originate? Who were the original rune readers? What kinds of questions can we ask during a rune reading? And what kinds of answers and insight can rune readings give us? How do rune readings work? Are they similar to tarot readings? How do you set up a rune reading? What kinds of uses are there for rune readings? Pick a specific rune alphabet, make a list of all of its characters and as we go along this month, or today if you’re feeling feisty, study each rune, its various meanings and how it works within a reading both upright and reversed. Again, find out as much as you can!

Practical/ journal- Either find a reader or with your study into how to perform a reading, give yourself one. Again, I suggest being willing to pay a reader for this, as it is a service that takes time and energy. Journal the question you asked, the rune layout, and the results of your reading. 

Herb study - Make a new page or note about an herb you have not studied yet. Look up its origins, how to grow it, its culinary, mundane and magical uses, along with its various associations. How was this herb used and thought of throughout history? Does it have any relation to myths and legends? 

Thursday - Scrying

Research/ New Page - Define scrying! What is it? How does it work? What are some common methods of scrying? Where has scrying been used traditionally? Who were the first to scry? How does one perform a scrying? What kinds of information can we glean from scrying? What things can it show and teach us? What is scrying generally used for?  Find out as much as you can about scrying!

Practical/ Journal - Perform one of the simpler methods of scrying that you researched, then journal about the experience! What did you see? Hear? Feel? What did it show you?

DiY - There are plenty of resources on the internet for making scrying and divination tools in general! This prompt is to create a scrying mirror! It does not have to be one of the fancier ones. But make one! There are even instructions here on tumblr, I’m sure! 

Friday - Pendulum

Research/ New Page - Now we’re going to look into Pendulum readings! (and pendulum work in general!) What are the ways we can use pendulums for divination? What kinds of things can pendulums help us divine? Where and when did pendulum reading originate? What can it show us and teach us? What is pendulum reading traditionally used for? Look up different methods of using pendulums.

Practical/ Journal - Make a pendulum! You don’t need a fancy one in order to perform divination with them. Look up a way to make a pendulum with everyday objects and perform a pendulum divination! Journal the process from the making of the pendulum to reading and its results. 

Meditation/ Introspection - We’ve given ourselves a lot of insight this week, asked a lot of questions of the universe and hopefully found some insight and answers into the /whys/ behind all these questions. Take some time to think about the answers you’ve gotten. Journal about all of the results and the way they apply to your life and current situation. 

WHEW! That was a lot, huh? So much to discover! Let's take the weekend and rest, since we got so much work done this week!

Good luck and happy crafting witches!

-Mod Hazel

[skyalent]

Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 1

This is intended to be a short story/one shot. I wrote this when I had a sudden idea of a crossover between Supernatural and the Scarlet Witch. Also available on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

This inspired by a tumblr post: The Sweet Old Lady is a Witch by Thera. I really love her Wanda/Y/n OC and the story! Here's her story: https://thera-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/658041636626022400/

Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader

I do not own Marvel or Supernatural.

Part 1 (You are here) *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 *~* Part 4???

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Part 1: Into the World of Supernatural

Wanda was done and tired.

After going through the multiverse with Dr. Strange and Loki, after Westview, after sacrificing everything over and over and over again Wanda was done and tired.

She looked tiredly towards the two friends that had grown on her. The two friends that had become brothers to her. Sensing her stare they turned to her, silence questioning in their eyes as she smiled tiredly at them.

"I think I'm done."

...

"... you're done...?" Dr. Strange repeated, not fully understanding what Wanda was implying.

"I'm tired, Stephen. I want to relax, sit down for a while... maybe watch the flowers grow."

Loki looked at her with a contemplative look before nodding, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here." Wanda automatically responded, "I don't care if there's heroes there or anything really. As long as the world is somewhat normal and similar and they leave me alone, anywhere is fine."

Both Strange and Loki looked at each other before carefully taking Wanda's hands in theirs, a gesture that they had come up with to comfort each other. They had all gotten close together after all they had went through.

"We'll call you if we need you." Strange commented.

"And we'll keep in touch." Loki added, elbowing Strange who lightly glared back at him, "We won't bother you too often. Go live your 'normal' life."

"You deserve it." Strange tried to redeem himself, gaining a small grin from Wanda. "Just try not to cause any trouble. Or rather, trouble we'll have to intercept in." Loki elbowed him again.

"I'll try my best." Wanda only smiled, squeezing her hands that held theirs before letting go. "I better get going now."

"See you around Wanda."

"I think a fresh start needs a new name, doesn't it?" Strange said suddenly.

"Strange I think that's the first good idea I've heard come from your mouth." Loki scoffed, grinning as Strange looked at him offended. "I've always been partial to the name Y/n."

"Y/n L/n it is." Strange proudly smiled ignoring the look Loki gave him as he looked at Wanda- at Y/n.

"Really? L/n?"

"I think it sounds nice, Loki." Y/n reassured the god. At those words he automatically changed his mind.

"Yes, Y/n L/n surely fits you."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Y/n sighed as she finally finished conjuring up all of the new items for her new home. She had already put a spell around it, ensuring that those who entered her new home would feel safe, warm, and comfortable. She wanted the exact opposite of Westview. She carefully hid the runes, making them small and they camouflaged well with the decorative wallpaper.

She had bought a small store, her home right above it. The store, Y/n decided, was going to sell things that she took comfort in. Books, plants, and a couple assorted goods if she felt like baking in the kitchen. There was even a section for artists to paint and for others to just sit in the bean bags and relax or read a good book.

Speaking of books, the town she moved into was awfully generous. After hearing she was going to open a bookstore, the resident librarian, who was an old, dying man, came up to her. He loved his books as if they were his own children. But his grandchildren didn't want to take over the library and he didn't want to see all of his books get tossed away.

And so, the old man generously gave Y/n most of the books from his library. He kept some and donated the rest to charity. Y/n's little shop was going well. Y/n didn't mind much about the slow business, she just wanted to relax and take in every moment. Something that she never would have done before.

But as each day passed, Y/n couldn't help herself but to find out the secret of this world. The supernatural existed.

It didn't come as much of a shock for Y/n, considering she was partly supernatural, but to hear the benevolent spirits and ghosts gossiping about ghosts who had fallen into rage and anger confused her. It baffled her so much to hear about ghosts actually having the ability to kill people, so she separated ghosts into two categories.

Astral ghosts. Ghosts of the dead who wandered in the astral plane, patiently waiting for something to occur before accepting their death. These were the ghosts that never went angry or fell into a random rage. Like the poor old librarian. He was waiting for his grandchildren to visit either his grave, the shut down library, or Y/n's bookstore before passing on. In the meantime, he continued his daily routines as if he were alive.

Then there were the angry ghosts. Not a very original name, Y/n knew, but it was simple enough for her to understand. They were the ghosts that fell into darkness and killed others, overwhelmed with rage to even see reason.

She didn't worry much about those ghosts, because the ones that were in her small town were given free therapy by her, and easily lost their anger and passed on to the afterlife with the reaper guiding them.

The other supernatural things? Y/n read up on them with the books given to her in the library, but other than that, she didn't care about them. If they were to ever show up at her town, she would make sure to deal with it so that everyone would be safe. But as she settled in and let her guard down for the next couple months, a little shapeshifter decided that her small town would be the perfect place to stir some trouble.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm Agent Adam Clayton, and this is my partner Agent Larry Mullen. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a couple customers you've had."

Y/n stared wearily at the two men who had entered her shop. Just by reading their minds she could tell their names were false, especially since they were the same names as the band members from U2. However, she didn't comment on it, considering they were partially telling the truth about asking questions of her customers.

"What have my customers done to get attention from the FBI?" Y/n asked curiously, although she continuously kept reading their minds for answers.

"Just a couple of them have gone missing ma'am. We're hoping you could give us any clues as to where they've gone."

Getting enough answers from reading the tall one's mind (he thought a lot and his thoughts were practically screaming at her) she nodded at them. Hunters that hunt and kill the supernatural? Y/n guessed they were the hero equivalent in this world. The only question left would be if they would kill her if they found out she was also a 'witch.' "So, which customers?"

"Robert Dunn, Todd Alexander, and Philip Navarro." the shorter one answered her. They watched her as she continued to walk around her shop, watering her plants.

Y/n took her time to recall them, "Well, the three of them were all from out of town. We've never had that many visitors before so it was easy to remember them. They all liked to talk too." Y/n frowned at the thought of those conversations she had with them. But now that she actually thought about it, the thoughts of the 3 customers were somewhat similar.

The taller one, catching Y/n's frown, continued to question her. "What did they talk about?"

"You know, simple 'What's your name?' or 'Could I get your number?' They were all particularly flirty."

"So would you say no if I asked for your number?" 'Adam Clayton' couldn't help but comment, getting elbowed by 'Larry Mullen.' Wow, these boys really reminded Y/n of Stephen and Loki.

"I'd tell you the same response I told those men. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Taking a break from that." Y/n handed 'Adam' a yellow tulip. At the questioning look, Y/n answered him, "So you don't feel too bad. Yellow tulips mean joy and a whole lot of other things."

"Do you give every man you reject a yellow tulip?" 'Adam' pouted causing Y/n to grin slightly.

"Well, any type of yellow flowers work. Yellow flowers in general symbolize spreading happiness and joy."

"Sorry- about the men? What happened after that?" 'Larry' steered them back on track.

"Oh, they all left the store looking somewhat upset but also giddy. Philip said he'd be back to try again though he hasn't been back in a week already."

'Larry' nodded, seemingly getting all the information he wanted and thanking Y/n politely before taking 'Adam' with him to stop him from flirting any further with Y/n.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So the only connection right now is Y/n, but why?" Sam questioned, going through a book he had borrowed at Y/n's store earlier.

"She's a hot chick. Who wouldn't go and take a chance to ask her out?" Dean replied, happily munching on a burger as he sat on the couch of their motel room.

"You think she's the one who's been killing them?" Sam asked, "It's a possibility."

"Remember what Philip told her?" Dean reminded Sam, "He'd be back to try again. Pretty creepy if you ask me."

"So a shapeshifter?"

"Bingo!"

"That seems a little far fetched, Dean."

"Hey, all we gotta do is watch the chick and then we'll figure out if it's her or if it's a shapeshifter. Easy solution! Or we could get access to her security cameras."

Sam grunted as he closed the book, flopping onto his bed. "She doesn't have any. I checked. Please tell me you at least find that suspicious."

"Hey, maybe she can't afford them! Town's pretty small, her shop's pretty small, she might not get a lot of income, you know?" Dean stood up, walking to the door, "I'm gonna get a drink, wanna come?"

Sam didn't respond and Dean took that as a no, leaving for the nearest bar. He kept walking to the bar he saw close-by, but just as he turned the corner, a fist hit his face and he blacked out.

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As Dean came back into consciousness, he was greeted by the sight of Philip shedding his skin and forming into himself. Damn, he was right. It was a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter merely glanced at the tied up Dean, glaring deadly holes into him. "She's mine..!" he hissed at Dean, leaving the cold room.

Looking around the room, he saw the bodies of the other men, too late to save them. Philip however, laid unconscious on the floor. Dean could see however that the Shapeshifter had injured Philip greatly and that if he did not get any help right away, he could die. Frantically working at the ropes, Dean could only hope that Sam would get to Y/n on time. (However, Sam was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened).

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Y/n didn't think it was normal of 'Adam' to come knocking at her door, especially at the middle of the night when the store was most definitely closed. She peaked from the safety of her window, using her magic to be invisible just in case she were to be spotted.

'Adam' was filled with possessive thoughts that automatically told Y/n something was wrong. As she shuffled through 'Adam's' memories, she found that most were not there, some floating around, the most recent one being tied up in some kind of basement.

"Hey Miss Y/n...? Are you here?" a shy astral ghost of a child appeared behind her. It was a ghost Y/n had met recently a few weeks ago. At the voice, Y/n moved away from the window and reappeared. "Yes, dear?"

The child stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly calmed down, looking at her. "Remember how I said what I wanted most was for my dad to visit my grave at least once?"

"Yes?" Y/n whispered quietly back to the child, motherly instincts taking over as she looked at the child gently.

"I changed my mind. He needs help right now. That's what I want most. For dad to live." The ghost child looked at Y/n with determination and Y/n couldn't help but answer their plea.

"Lead the way."

Sneaking out of the house via the backdoor, Y/n followed the ghost child to the other side of town, going into the forest near their town and was led to a cabin. Inside the cabin was a simple bunk bed and a large chest. Nothing inside the cabin seemed to have been used in a while. The only thing that indicated someone- something lived here was the vase filled with yellow flowers at the window sill.

"Here. He's down there." The ghost pointed at the chest, before floating through it and disappearing. Using her magic, Y/n easily pulled the chest out of the way and revealed a passageway with a ladder heading straight down into the darkness. Not seeing her ghost friend, Y/n continued heading down, deeper and deeper until she reached the floor.

It was cold down here. The lights were dim and flickered occasionally, but it was clear that it was being powered by electricity somehow. "This way, this way." The ghost child urged, pointing down the hallway.

Quickly, Y/n rushed, her footsteps echoing as she ran. As she made it to the end of the hallway she saw two corpses, an unconscious Philip and Dean who was looking at her in shock.

"So I'm guessing you're the real 'Adam'?" Y/n asked, although already knowing the answer. She went towards him, untying the ropes as fast as she could. Before Dean could suspect her or say anything Y/n continued to speak, "There was someone who looked like you at my door, but when I zoomed in with my phone to check who it was from the window, your eyes were white." Y/n lied, using the information she knew about shapeshifters to her advantage, "I'm pretty sure that's not exactly normal."

Dean grinned, "Sweetheart, there's a lot of things that aren't normal."

Picking up Philip, the two rushed out of the cabin, not willing to stay any longer to face the shapeshifter. Dean didn't have any gear, and he couldn't risk the lives of two innocent people. However, they didn't make it very far as the Dean clone confronted them in the forest, staring intensely at Y/n.

"Ma'am, back away from the shapeshifter, right now! Don't let it trick you!" the Dean clone shouted at Y/n. If Y/n couldn't read minds, she surely would have felt conflicted right now as Dean also told her,

"He's trying to trick you. Trust me, I'm the real deal. I- I know that sounds bad- but I promise. I'm a hunter. My real name is Dean."

The Dean clone took a step closer causing Y/n to turn to him. "Don't come closer. Mr. Philip needs help right now. I don't care whoever you are as long as he gets help."

Dean, taking advantage of the standstill, grabbed Y/n's hand and started to run, carrying Philip. The motel was nearby, hopefully they could make it and grab Sam's attention somehow.

But the clone was fast. Y/n's eyes narrowed as her other arm was grabbed and she decided that she's had enough. Using her magic she blasted the shapeshifter back. Dean looked at her in shock and fear, but Y/n didn't mind. Those kinds of looks weren't new to her.

"Dean you're a hunter. Do I have to kill the guy or no?" Y/n asked, snapping Dean out of it.

"You're a witch-"

"It's a yes or no question Dean." Y/n snapped, watching blankly as the shapeshifter stood up and began to approach them again, angered.

Taking a step, it jumped at Dean, causing Dean to blurt out a quick "yes!" before the shapeshifter was stopped, floating mid-jump at Dean. The shapeshifter turned to ashes in front of his eyes and Dean turned to look at Y/n with an impassive look.

"I've heard that hunters usually kill witches or anything supernatural, but please get Mr. Philip help first before you decide to kill me."

And with that, Y/n left to her small store, packing up her things in a dimensional pocket. She trusted that Dean would get Philip the help he needed. She just needed to get out of here. If she couldn't convince Dean to not kill her, she would go to another world before he could.

As she quickly finished packing up, the small ghost child appeared before her.

"Thank you for saving dad." the shy ghost looked at the ground, as if blushing from embarrassment.

"It's no problem dear. He was important to you, right? It's important to always care and look out for family." Y/n looked at the ghost kindly, recalling her own family. Reaching out her hand to hold the young ghost's, Y/n gently whispered to them. "I believe it's time for you to rest now, dear."

A reaper appeared next to them, patiently waiting.

"...Will it hurt?"

Y/n smiled at the ghost, reassuring them, "It won't. It'll feel like waking up from a dream."

The shy ghost hugged her tightly, thanking her, before taking the hand of the reaper and disappearing with it. Y/n sighed, relieved that the child was finally at peace. At least they could have the peace Y/n longed for. A gun clicked behind her head. Y/n didn't turn around.

"Explain."

From the voice, Y/n could tell it was the taller brother. 'Larry,' or Sam, had seen, or rather heard the whole interaction. From what he could tell, Y/n was talking to an invisible ghost or spirit and helped it move on to the afterlife. A much different tactic to their usual salt and burn.

"About who I am or what I just did?" Y/n asked.

"Both." Dean came in behind Sam, staring at the witch.

"Hm, well... I'm from a different universe..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't easy, but Sam and Dean believed her story. But even after that they didn't completely trust her, which was understandable. But at least they liked her enough to keep calling to use her books for research, to get extra information for hunts, or for Dean to just get a pie (he would never admit it but Y/n's pies were the best he's ever had).

Y/n was allowed to live in her small town, as long as she promised not to kill anyone or the brothers swore to come back to kill her. But as they kept calling her over and over again to help with more and more hunts, she found herself being invited to live in the Bunker with them.

Some days were odd.

Some days the brothers seemed like they hated her and everything witches.

But most days they enjoyed her company. They enjoyed that there was something out there that was supposed to be bad, but was actually good.

And ever so slowly they got used to her magic.

One time Dean had walked in on her using magic in the kitchen. Tools and ingredients were flying places, a bowl was stirring itself. Y/n was at the oven taste testing some sort of soup. Dean felt like he was having a Harry Potter moment. At Dean's awkward cough, Y/n jumped back slightly and lifted her head.

"Oh! Sorry, were you hungry? Um... the kitchen is kinda occupied right now, but you could have this pie!"

At her words, a pie found itself in a very happy Dean's hands. "What are you making?"

"Some miso soup. I was craving it so I decided to make it. I didn't want to go out."

"So then where'd you get this pie?"

"Oh, I had a feeling you were going to want one later, so I made it earlier!"

Touched by her kindness, Dean nodded, grateful, but he didn't want to be sappy so he happily left with his pie. Y/n chuckled to herself as she heard Dean's thoughts praising her and her pie.

Sam had come to enjoy their conversations on the supernatural. As he had found out, despite being a witch, Y/n had very basic knowledge on the supernatural world and mostly got her information from her books. So, Sam had taken it upon himself to teach Y/n about the most common and dangerous, and most importantly how to kill it.

Sam had been very careful to teach Y/n about the witch-killing spell and bullets. He had nearly freaked when Y/n went and held a bullet, observing it closely before taking it apart with her magic.

"-so these are the bullets and- WAIT NO Y/N IT'LL KILL YOU!" Sam panicked, lunging towards her as Y/n took the bullet apart. Hearing the yell, Dean came running.

"What's happening!?"

At that moment Sam crashed into the couch Y/n was sitting on as she dodged him.

Y/n chuckled, "I'm fine, this won't hurt me. You told me the ingredients, remember? When combined together, yes, they do kill witches. But they won't kill witches like me."

Y/n poked at the bullet before putting it back together and placing the bullet in the case, which Sam immediately closed and put away. "Let's not do that again. E-Even if it won't- I just, I don't want to risk it."

Seeing how much she had made Sam worry, Y/n put her hand gently on Sam's. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to worry you."

Sam sighed, gently clasping Y/n's hands, "It's alright... you're good. I just... don't want..."

"I know... thank you..." Y/n smiled.

"Aww, look at the two love birds~ get a room already!"

"DEAN SHUT UP!"

However there was a day that Y/n truly treasured. It was the day that both brothers finally put their complete trust in Y/n. This happened during a hunt.

They had quickly figured out it was a ghost and brought Y/n with them so they could finish up quick, but the ghost was more tricky to deal with than they had originally thought.

The ghost was a woman who had been cremated, so there were no remains they could burn. They still had to identify what object the ghost was attached to. It had moved from city to city, so it must have been an object easy to bring along.

Quite easily they could tell it was a vengeful spirit as there was a pattern going on. Mothers were the target, whether they still had kids or not didn't matter apparently. As long as you were a mother at one point (or pregnant), the ghost would come and attack. From what they could get as pretending to be the FBI, the children had seen the ghost that attacked their moms, but the description of the ghost varied from child to child. One thing stayed consistent however, the ghost never touched the kids. At times the ghost had reassured them that everything was okay, that she would take care of them.

As they researched (Sam and Y/n researched, Dean ate on the motel bed), Y/n couldn't help but feel... worried? Sympathetic?

Just from looking at the ghost's targets, Y/n could tell the ghost was a mother at one point in their lives. The ghost was like her, desperate to find and keep her family. Her children. But unlike the ghost, Y/n had learned how to grow from the pain. She had reached the acceptance part in the 5 stages of grief. Yes, she missed her husband and children, but she continued on, knowing that they would be loved and would continue to be loved.

Noticing Y/n spacing out, Dean called out to her. "Hey witchy, you doing okay?"

Y/n looked up at him, "I think I need a break. I'm gonna go for a walk. Wanna come? Sam?"

Dean leaned further into the pillows, "Nah, I'm just gonna relax here."

Sam scowled, "Or you could be helpful and come over here!" to which Dean let out another "nope!" before turning his music up even louder. Sam groaned, "I'm good Y/n, I want to keep researching."

Nodding Y/n left the motel room, taking in the fresh air as she walked.

What she didn't know was that the object the ghost was attached to was in their motel room, and Y/n had left the brothers just before chaos happened.

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Not sure if I want to keep writing this because it was just a quick thought I had. Let me know if you'd like a part 2! 

Edit: Part 2 has been posted!

Next >

[khajiit-reads]

ABOUT ME . . ,

In case you're not familiar with my main blog and my side blog, I go by Khajiit (they/them, Mx. or Misc). I follow a The Elder Scrolls based religion and practice, among others, but all I talk about is TES on Tumblr. I've been a tarot/oracle/etc reader for 2 years and have been practicing near daily. When reading, I provide a simple overview of what the card/rune/etc means for your sake, too. I'm a more serious "mystical" type reader who believes in the power of the cards, though I take a more psychological "sometimes we're just seeing shit because of brain associations" take too. Just keep that in mind. I also believe heavily in animism.

I am an avid deck/etc collector and deeply love my little family of cards and others.

These guidelines are subject to change at any time as I navigate this new journey. I will make a post to update any followers when it has been updated.

You must read this post in full before requesting a reading. It's only polite.

I have a Ko-fi Tip Jar. You can visit it here. My readings are currently all free, and I may one day sell paid readings through ko-fi.

GUIDELINES . . ,

ALL READINGS ARE POSTED PUBLICLY. I do not use anonymous so I may reach out if needed.

I require for a reading:

Your (preferred) name/initial/alias and pronouns.

Your question(s), or a note if you just want a generic reading or divinatory reading. If it's a yes/no you want more on, just say you want me to make it open-ended.

Some background around your situation/question.

Whether this is a card/rune/etc or pendulum question. The only exception is yes/nos will be answered with either pendulum or Crystal Ball Pocket Oracle.

I offer:

Up to 5 questions at a time. You may send it in one ask or up to 5 asks, but please wait until all 5 have been answered before requesting more. These questions can be related or not.

One card draws

Spreads, you may submit a spread or let me pick one for you. Please state that you wish for a spread. Spread readings will take longer to be performed/posted, and can break my rule of 5 questions at a time, but they run a risk of being denied for length.

Divinatory questions.

Pendulum yes/no questions.

I do not offer:

Anything related to medical advice, legal advice, financial advice, etc. I am not a trained professional or anything.

NSFW topics

"What does x think of me?" and "What does x feel about me?"

Time sensitive questions. Time related questions are fine, but only one specific deck will be used.

Any readings that require me to essentially read minds.

Anything that channels a closed practice.

Anything that breaches the rights of others or disrespects them.

Grand tableau readings of Lenormand. They take far too long for me to consider doing them for free.

By requesting you understand:

That this is not an infallible practice. I can be wrong, I can have biases, I am not perfect.

That I am tapping into your energy.

I do not know you perfectly and know everything about your life and your experiences when you send in an ask. The cards can only reveal so much to me.

I do not believe destiny to be a set in stone single line, I can only tell you your current path and not all of them.

I may reject a reading for any reason that I am uncomfortable with.

Your questions get answered when they get answered.

By requesting a reading, you accept and understand that your own actions are your own.

I take tarot more as an advice thing than a "set in stone you must listen" thing. I suggest you take a similar stance with my readings.

Other notes:

Reviews are very much appreciated.

I don't mind if you send more questions in soon after your previous questions have been answered, especially if you're looking to clarify a point in my previous reading, but keep in mind that I answer these things when I feel like it, so while if you're lucky, it'll be answered same day, if you're not, it'll be a week+. I also won't tolerate this being abused to turn me into your own personal reader. So don't utterly spam my inbox.

Liking posts not of your reading is good, but please refrain from reblogging posts that aren't of your reading, maybe?

If you don't want me to use pendulum or Crystal Ball Pocket Oracle, please provide an open-ended question or state you want me to find a way to make it open-ended.

I do not permit people to request which deck I use, because I pick them depending on the question and the energies I feel at the time.

Please do not spam my inbox so you can abuse my 5 questions max rule. If I get three asks in a row from you so you can get 15 questions, I'm just not gonna answer you. You can however, ask 5 different questions in 5 different asks.

Please use your common sense when using anything I say, and don't be afraid to say if the advice is simply not for you.

I do attempt to provide screen reader IDs when I provide pictures, but they may be shoddy as I'm still getting used to providing them. If you see a place I can improve, please let me know.

Kipper and Lenormand have gendered significators. I use them all relatively ungendered, and provide both possible meanings should a significator be within your reading.

As with my belief in animism, I believe my decks are alive. Please be kind to them because of this. I don't share their names publicly, though, on their request.

If you'd like to see any of my decks, just for pictures, feel free to ask! I know some storefronts are atrocious at showing off their decks so I'm happy if I can help people see a deck they're interested in.

ABOUT GUIDES. . ,

I'd rather questions that relate to guides to focus on the TES entities. I know about them really well, even compared to other gods I work with, and I'd rather not engage with entities I cannot guarantee I know about enough to be able to understand them. It also helps me be sure of who to channel/speak to, and my deep knowledge of them helps with readings. However, please note that I cannot, do not, and will not do your work for you. I am only offering this out of a "I know it can be hard to reach out sometimes", sometimes we do not have the energy to do so and many other factors, and sometimes an outside perspective is valuable. I will reject readings that I feel are out of my scope as an outsider to your practice.

As well, my UPG may mildly affect these readings. I try my best to avoid any and all UPG or note "Now, this is a UPG POV..." or something like that for these readings.

I believe my guides are often present with me in my readings, even that I perform for others. If this is a problem, please request elsewhere.

TAGS. . ,

Here's my general tags that relate to all of this

Querent: Myself & Querent: Others A personal readings tag as I post some of my own readings to this blog, and a tag for readings I've performed for others. I also give each querent their own tag, but won't be linking it here.

Readings From Others Basically when I get readings from other blogs and post them on here, often with my own munchings and ruminations.

Review in Replies & Review in Reblogs & Ask-sent Review & Reviews Three tags intended so people can check my reviews based on where the review came from. The final tag is just a general reviews tag.

Suggested Readers Other readers I suggest for others to request from!

Deck Reviews As it sounds on the tin, I post reviews about my decks here.

My other tags related to which tool is being used can be found on this page, I didn't want to clog this post, as I have a lot, but I prefer to tag which tool is being used in case people want to look at cards/meanings of a specific deck that way.