#t: descent of the moon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

onlyseokmins · 10 months ago

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ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.

Cold.

Lonely.

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged.

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage.

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge.

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present.

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes."

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand.

Was that love?

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice.

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes."

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed.

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption.

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his.

And still, he waits.

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?"

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright."

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too."

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to."

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself.

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him.

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #lee seokmin smut #lee dokyeom smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut

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sorceress-of-stories · 4 months ago

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🩸 Blood of Origin - Alucard x Reader 🩸

P A R T 1

●○●○ Author's Note ●○●○

Hello everyone :) today I am finally taking the plunge back into writing for my favorite fandoms - for the first time on this app EVER. It's been a long time coming, and I'm truly fucking excited to get back in it. This story idea came to me as I was watching Castlevania Nocturne for the first time a few nights ago, and the idea dam kinda broke lmao.

This story is inspired by a post I saw one night and for the life of me I couldn't find it. Basically it was a request for someone to write an entry for before Lisa was murdered, if she had some sort of apprentice. This is my take on that :)

I hope you all enjoy. I am a bit rusty but fucking excited to share it with you all.

[TRIGGER WARNING:]

this story and its parts/chapters may have the following content: violence, adult language, alluding to SA, gore, sexual themes, depictions of birth, talk of death, grieving

Viewer discretion advised :)

🩸

Wallachia, July 1456

YOU WERE BORN UNDER THE PALE LIGHT OF THE FULL MOON to a young mother and unknown father. The night was warm, the air fresh, and the smell of pine permeated through the air. It had been two days since the pains had started, another still since your mother's waters had broken. It had taken everything in her to make the trip into the forest - her true home - that way she could birth you as her people had been doing for thousands of years.

Your mother wailed as another birth pain gripped her womb, her arms and legs tensing as she gripped the moss beneath, shaking and moaning on all fours as you began your descent to earth.

"You can do it, Amara. Just breathe." a blonde woman spoke in a calm and even voice, her pale hand stroking your mother's back gently. Her brown gown was soaked with blood - your mother's blood - and her brow was slick with sweat. Her long blonde hair was bound by a thick braid down her back, her medicine pouch cast aside on the earth beside her. Already unstoppered was a tincture, its dark bottle glistening in the pale moonlight.

"I cannot," your mother sobbed, her swollen belly bobbing merely inches from the ground, "I cannot do this. "

"Yes you can. We women have been doing this since the dawn of time. You can do this, I promise."

"No, I cannot. I cannot!"

"Amara-"

"Listen to me, Lisa! Something is wrong, I know it and you do as well. We have seen enough births to know this is not normal."

Lisa's eyes shot between your mother's slick thighs, watching with growing worry that she was right. Something was wrong. Blood leaked from between her legs, dripping onto the mossy ground beneath her. Three days had passed and still the babe had not come. Lisa knew that the birth of a person's first child could take longer in some cases, but she knew time was running out - for mother and child.

"Promise me something, Lissy."

Amara's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Anything."

"If I die, please take care of my child. Let them know they are loved."

"I will not let you die!" Lisa's eyes watered at the horrific thought.

"Promise me! Promise me you'll take care of them!"

Lisa's mouth went dry as she willed her tears away. There was absolutely no way either of you were dying. "Of course. I promise."

Her naked form writhed in pain as another contraction hit, an animalistic growl leaving her lips as her eyes closed. Lisa's eyes grew wide as your mother began to crawl towards the riverbank, her movements broken and jagged, a trail of blood following behind her. When she reached the water she went in fully, her body sliding from off the wet moss and into the illuminated waters. The river wasn't moving fast enough to be dangerous, just a subtle trickling that made your mother sigh out in relief. Your mother began to chant over the swell of her body, the words unrecognizable to Lisa. It was a prayer she had learned, a medicine song, that was used during rough births. Countless times she had murmured it over other women while assisting with hard and tricky births. Never did she think she'd have to use it on herself.

Lisa bit her lip before removing her top gown, leaving only her shift. Quickly she went into the water and faced your mother, settling on her knees so that she had access to aid the birth.

"I don't belive the babe is breach," Lisa palpated the surface of your mother's belly, "she seems to be in the correct position."

"She?" your mother smiled. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know," Lisa shrugged, her own smile tugging on her lips, "just a feeling."

Before your mother could respond, another contraction gripped her. Her arms shot out as she nearly fell forward at the pain, but her closest friend caught her just in time. Lisa braced herself in the river, digging her feet beneath the sand to support the full weight of her. Your mother, who sat on her knees, began to wail as she pushed down. Blood seeped into the water like crimson ink, its sinister color glittering like rubies in the moonlight.

"Try to push and bare down when you feel called to do so, not only because of the contractions. It'll feel different if you focus on the babe. Focus only on her and nothing else."

Your mother nodded and another pain gripped her. Her mind went blank with pain but in that moment she could feel it, a nearely imperceptible tugging in her womb. It was so small she thought she had conjured it in her mind, but when it happened again, she followed through.

Time stood still as she continued this practice until finally you were in her arms, a choked sob leaving her lips in relief.

"A girl," your mother marveled at your small form and wispy hair, "just as you said."

Lisa's eyes glistened at the sight of the small bundle in her arms, the cord of life vanishing beneath the waters. It was a mere moment before your first cries rang out, the small, piercing sound echoing off every tree and floating on the wind.

Lisa carefully left the bank to grab the herbal tincture, the brown bottle cool in her hands. She fed a few drops to Amara and wiped her forehead of sweat. The two women sat silently as they listened to your cries, Lisa helping her out from the water carefully and back onto the soft moss.

Your mother looked down at your scrunched face and with gentle fingers wiped away the blood from your small body. You cried at the feeling of the warm water, small limbs bobbing in protest.

"Is this what it is like? To gaze upon your own child? Unable to catch your breath yet feeling the most alive?" your mother's voice was small as she admired you, small head fitting perfectly in her arms.

"It never goes away," Lisa smiled as she sat beside your mother once again, "and it only ever gets stronger."

Amara looked at her friend then, bright eyes shining with tears. "Thank you, Lissy."

"You needn't ever thank me. We may not share blood, but you are my sister. Now and always."

Your mother's tears ran freely down her face as she looked at her closest friend and then at you, now suckling at her breast. The three of you sat in silence, taking in the land around you before the afterbirth finally passed. The bleeding stopped nearly an hour later as Lisa gave your mother more tincture, a mixture of Yarrow and Shepard's Purse. The blonde woman breathed a sigh of relief. No fever, no swelling. Everything turned out they way it needed to.

In the final hours before dawn your mother rose, holding you securely in her arms, while Lisa supported her at the elbow. Following your mother's request, Lisa buried the afterbirth underneath an ancient oak that towered high above the treetop. Your mother whispered a prayer in her native tongue, a language that Lisa had never heard before meeting many years ago. It was only ever spoken in secret, by your mother and father before his death, as the local villagers did not take kindly to what they called "pagan speak."

Before long they turned from the clearing, walking silently back towards the small cottage to the east.

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Wallachia, June 1460

YOU WERE AN UNCOMMONLY ODD CHILD, as far as the village folk were concerned. Sure, it was normal for young children, especially ones as young as you, to wonder all the whys and how's of the world. But something about you, who would ask all the "normal" questions, would take it a step further. Where a "normal" child would wonder why certain trees looked different from others, you would go so far as to ask, with full conviction, why an Aspen's spirit was golden like the sun, versus a Maple whose spirit resembled more closely the color of the clear sky at high noon. They would respond, with great confusion, that trees did not have spirits, nor did those spirits have colors. That they were trees and nothing more.

Your mother, who could not see what you did, still encouraged and passed down what knowledge she had from her motherland, a distant land much different from Wallachia. Where there were many gods and goddesses, a freedom to worship who you choose. So unlike Wallachia, a place that solely fell into the dark and dangerous grips of the Christian belief.

"Well my love," her kind eyes glanced down at your small frame, hair wild and feet bare as you walked through the forest, "all plants have their own essences. An Aspen's spirit is golden, like it's leaves in autumn. It means renewal, shedding what no longer serves you. The Spirit of the Aspen tree teaches us about growth and the importance of it."

"She is so pretty! Her hair is like the sun." you marveled at an Aspen as you passed, your eyes landing on the golden shape that emerged from the base of the tree. It glittered brightly, taking the shape of a woman, its long hair falling over it's golden shoulders like molten gold. The spirit did not have distinct features like humans did, but you knew it heard your compliment and was thankful for it.

Your mother looked at the same tree you did, but did not see the spirit. She could feel the alertness of the forest, of the trees, knew the spirits were watching.

You giggled as you ran in front of her, squealing and sharing your energy with the dense forest around you. It was a beautiful day in late spring, merely days from the Summer Solstice. The forest was teeming with life as it always had; birds overhead singing their songs, insects buzzing near patches of wild flowers, the tree canopy above dancing in the light breeze. It was common occurrence for your mother to take you on walks through this forest - the very forest in which you were born - that was merely a stones throw from the small cottage in which you both lived.

"Yes, I am sure she is quite beautiful." your mother spoke softly, a gentle smile on her lips. "Come, darling. I have someone I would like you to meet." she held out her hand as she caught up to you, and you took it without hesitation.

"Who, mama?"

"Someone very special to me."

It wasn't very often you got to meet other people. The village in which you and your mother lived was extremely small, and travelers rarely passed through. The villagers spoke to your mother only when strictly necessary: when someone was ill or when a child needed to be born, or if she had gone to market. Though she was a wise woman they were weary, she was no countryman, did not worship the same god. She did not seem to mind.

You, on the other hand, loved talking with others, meeting new people. The prospect made you giddy with excitement. You held onto her hand more tightly as you walked down a familiar path.

In mere moments you arrived at a clearing, your favorite place in the whole world. Your mother always told you the story of how you were born on this very earth, and nearly everyday you came here with her to connect with the land. The riverbank was slightly higher than it had been last time, but that was normal just after the snowmelts that time of year. What was unusual, however, was the tall woman that stood at the riverbank, her bright blonde hair flowing in the wind and a light blue dress billowing at her feet. She turned as you and your mother approached, a wide smile gracing her face.

"Amara!" the woman rushed over and hugged your mother close, tears falling from her eyes.

Your mother gently let go of your hand to embrace the woman, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Lisa."

The two woman pulled away from one another, and the blonde woman's gaze fell upon you. Your eyes widened at her beauty, the kindness in her eyes, the golden energy that emitted from her being.

"Are you an Aspen spirit?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"No, my dear girl." Lisa gently responded as she knelt to be eye level with you. "I am a very close friend of your mother's."

"You are gold, like an Aspen spirit," you weren't convinced, you could clearly see the golden aura of her being, "I won't tell anyone. Promise?"

Lisa's smile grew. "I promise, little one. Here, I have a gift for you. Would you like to see?"

You immediately perked up and nodded excitedly. Both women laughed, the sound so heavenly it filled you with warmth. Your mother and Lisa led you further into the clearing and onto a log your mother had fastened into a bench a few years prior.

Lisa knelt in front of you once again, handing you a finely wrapped parcel. The cloth wrappings were dark green, and a simple blue bow sat atop it. With little help from your mother, your chubby hands finally unwrapped it. Inside sat a beautiful cloth doll, dressed in a bright purple dress.

"Do you like it?" Lisa asked, a hopeful expression passing over her features.

"Yes! She is pretty."

"What do we say, my love?" your mother scooped you onto her lap, placing a small kiss atop your head.

"Thank you!"

"You are most welcome, my dear girl."

You giggled and slipped from your mother's arms, your attention solely focused on your new doll. You had toys, of course, but they were made of simple sticks and straw. You were thrilled to add it to your collection.

Your mother stared after you fondly, seeing as you sat in front of the riverbank a few paces away, completely enthralled with your gift.

"I am sorry I could not come sooner," Lisa began, eyeing you with awe, "she is beautiful."

"Yes she is," your mother agreed, "but you needn't apologize. I understand."

"I feel I must. It's been three years since I saw you both last. I feel an awful friend."

"You shouldn't, Lissy. I know why, I understand. Being the wife of Lord Dracula requires such absences."

Lisa hummed softly. "He sends his regards and well wishes."

Your mother chuckled. "How chivalrous of him. If I remember correctly, you had told me he had little manners at all."

"He had them, he just forgot how to use them. Being a lonely recluse can have that affect on even the most refined persons."

The two women laughed again, which drew your attention. It felt nice to see your mother smiling with another person, a person who seemed so kind and warm. You watched on a moment longer before turning back to your wonderful doll.

"How is Adrian?" your mother asked. "It seems only yesterday he was born. I will always say he was the easiest birth I ever assisted with."

"He's perfect," Lisa breathed, "such an incredible boy. He is currently fascinated with the stars. His father has been teaching him all the constellations."

"I am happy to hear it," your mother said, genuine happiness settling on her features, "and your current studies?"

For hours they spent talking and catching up, making sure to dote on you when your attention shifted to and from different things; your doll, seeing a fish in the river, seeking attention from your mother. When the sun began to arc passed its zenith and the sky began to turn dark orange, their voices had turned to quiet murmurs as you slept in your mother's arms, doll held tightly in your hand.

"She has been seeing more spirits as of late," your mother began after a short moment of silence, "and it has the townsfolk anxious."

Lisa glanced down at you, a small, sad smile on her lips. "Anything besides their god gets them anxious. They haven't harmed you, have they? You promised me you'd let me know if something ever happened."

"No, nothing has happened. A few cold and angry stares here and there, a few remarks thrown my way. Nothing I cannot handle."

"And the Bishop?"

"The Bishop, however, has been insistent we come to mass. Claims our souls will he damned for all eternity if we don't. I have respectfully declined, and at the moment, he has stopped the requests. For now, at least."

"And her? Do they suspect she's a witch?"

"At this moment, they think it an oddity - an imagination gone wild. Nothing more."

"You must promise me, Amara, that if anything happens, you will write to me. You and your daughter are always welcome at our home."

"Does your husband hold that same sentiment?"

Lisa laughed. "If it was anyone else, no. But for you and your child? Of course. You are family."

Your mother nodded and peered down at your sleeping form. She rocked you softly, holding you close. "I promise."

"Good. Now I have something for you, too."

"Oh?"

Lisa gently pulled another parcel from her bag, a small creme package adorned in yellow ribbon and handed it to your mother. Carefully, as not to disturb your sleeping form, she unwrapped it. Her breath hitched as she saw what lay within.

A simple gold chain lay neatly encircling an expertly cut emerald. It was the size of a thumbnail, smooth and shiny on all sides. It was absolutely stunning.

"I traveled to Targoviste for a wellness visit for an eldery patient of mine. I immediately thought of you when I saw it. Do you like it?"

"Lissy, this is incredible. I cannot accept this. It must've cost a fortune!"

"Never mind that. It is yours, and I give it happily."

Your mother went to protest once more but the loving look on Lisa's face told her otherwise. "Thank you, Lissy. Truly, it is beautiful."

"I told you, my dear, you never need to thank me." Lisa stood gently, careful not to disrupt your sleeping form. "I better get back, Vlad doesn't like me being away for too long without proper planning. Next time, I'll stay a few days, if that's alright?"

"You needn't even ask! And please, I know it may not cross your husband's mind, but he and your son are welcome here anytime. I would love to meet them someday."

Lisa smiled, a true, heartfelt smile. "Yes, someday."

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December 21st, 1460

YOUR EYES DID NOT STRAY ONCE FROM THE COTTAGE WINDOW. A thin layer of ice covered the glass panes, blurring the dirt path and farther beyond. Behind you a fire roared in the hearth, the smell of clove and cinnamon wafting over you. Your mother hummed softly at the wooden table, her hands working on kneading dough. A small feast was being prepared for the winter solstice, different meats and pastries littering the table for the occasion. Your mother was working on a special pie - something she called a delicacy - for the special occasion, but perhaps more importantly, the expected special guests.

Lisa, who you now referred to as Aunty Lissy, had promised to share and celebrate the solstice with you and your mother. Every two weeks, as sure as the cycle of the moon, Aunt Lissy would visit you both. She would bring odd bits and things from her home near Targoviste, her simple way of sharing the world with you. On her last visit, during the full moon in November, she and your mother promised that she would be back in time for the festivities - and she would not be coming alone. This time, she would bring her husband and son.

"Anything yet, my love?" your mother asked.

"No," you were saddened at the fact, "I don't see Aunty Lissy yet."

"Soon, love. She'll be here soon, I promise. Why don't you come help me with the pie? I'm sure Aunty Lissy will be so excited to try something you made."

You immediately perked up at the idea. Swiftly you clambered down from the chair you were sat on and perched yourself on her lap.

Nearly an hour later, and a completed meat pie baking in the coals, was a knock on the door. Your head snapped up at the sound as your mother chuckled. She crossed from one end of the cottage to the other before opening the door. In an instant cold air rushed through, and in the threshold stood a man, his red hair cropped short, silver eyes landing on your mother's form.

"I take it you're the wise woman called Amara?" his voice was deep, unsettling. He was covered in a thick fur cloak, a sword strapped to his hip. You did not recognize this man at all. Was this Aunty Lissy's husband?

"I am. Who's asking?"

"Doesn't matter who I am. You have been summoned by the Bishop."

"The Bishop? I am not a part of the church."

"The precise reason why you have been summoned. I have orders to bring you in, by any means necessary," his hand gripped the handle of his sword.

"Mama?" you peered from behind the chair you stood behind. The man's eyes shifted towards you, a cruel smile on his face.

"Ahhh, the bitch's pup."

"We haven't done anything wrong. Please leave. I have an understanding with the local Parish and townsfolk. We have no qualms." your mother tried to close the door, to block you from his view, but the man shot out his hand and shoved it open.

"Not anymore."

Time stopped as something hurtled through the window, spraying the small cottage with glass. You screamed and ducked, hot tears flowing down your cheeks. You heard a sharp cry as the man grabbed your mother by the throat and slammed her up against the wall. She gasped and clutched and scratched her attacker's hand, desperately trying to break free.

"Let my mama go!" you ran at the man, your tiny fists hitting his leg. He didn't feel a thing. Annoyed at your intrusion, however, the man kicked you away roughly, sending your fragile body flying into a nearby bookcase. You fell, limp.

Your mother thrashed and screamed at him to leave you alone, her eyes widening in terror. She couldn't see if you were moving or not, breathing or not. Tears spilled down her cheeks and made the man's hand slick with salty tears. She called your name, but you did not move.

"They said by any means necessary. Wanted to make an example of you, he did. Bloody foreigners ruining our land. But y'know what? I think I'll kill you and the runt. You're gonna end up dead anyways, and I'd rather have my fun with you first. Haven't been with a woman in God knows how long. Why don't you be a sweet little thing and show me what you got?"

You woke slowly, your head cloudy and vision slightly blurred. When your eyes finally opened, they landed on the golden aura of Aunty Lissy, but she looked nothing like her usual self. Her face was blotched and tear-stained, her hair unkempt and falling out of its signature braid. She sat on the bed beside you, gently rubbing your back as tears fell from her eyes.

"Aunty Lissy?" your small voice was hoarse and your chest hurt. "Where's mama? And the bad man?"

Her eyes landed on you, her breath trembling. "Oh, my sweet girl."

You sat up, not fully registering the odd and unfamiliar room you where in. You looked around for your mother, but she was no where to be found.

"A mean man came. He hurt mama. I tried to stop him."

A sob escaped Lisa's lips despite her best efforts to control it. Her free hand trembled as it reached for you. Instinctively you crawled into her arms, so safe and warm.

"I know, my dear. I know."

"Can I see mama? Where is she? I want to see her. She needed my help."

Lisa pulled you in closer and began to rock you both as she began to truly cry. Her golden aura dimmed, her sadness and overehelm something you've never seen from her before.

"My love," an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind you. You jumped, the male voice forcing your heart to leap. Lisa felt your tremor and held you tighter.

"Yes, I know." she responded. A few moments went by before she cradled you as if you were a babe.

"My dear girl, there is something I must tell you about your mother."

You pushed away from her, excitement at seeing your mother again pulling you free. "Can I see her? Can I see mama?"

Lisa's closed her eyes for a moment before looking at you. "I'm afraid that isn't possible, my dear. She's with the Gods now."

#alucard x reader #castlevania #alucard #castlevania x reader #alucard x you #alucard castlevania #adrian tepes #dracula tepes #lisa tepes

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defjux · 3 months ago

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Here's a 12x12 of some of my favorite albums that aren't rap albums. I did one of those recently as well, which you can find here. I think some years back I also made a similar list of the albums that were most influential for me, but this is more of an inclusive list of the stuff I generally just enjoy listening to the most these days. One album per artist, and only the first two rows are in order. I might do another one these in the future with all of the albums I love that didn't make the cut this time around, but for now i'm happy with how this turned out Chart with album titles included Maybe I could add as many of these albums as possible to a spotify playlist - is that something any of you would be interested in? What albums are your favorite, do we have any in common? If you've got any kind of list of your own i’d love to see it. Peace.

1. At the Drive-In - Relationship of Command 2. Björk - Vespertine 3. Portishead - Third 4. Gospel - The Moon Is a Dead World 5. Stereolab - Dots and Loops 6. Glassjaw - Worship and Tribute 7. Cocteau Twins - Treasure 8. Sade - Love Deluxe 9. The Dillinger Escape Plan - Ire Works 10. Sun Ra - Lanquidity 11. J Dilla - Donuts 12. Grouper - Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill 13. John Coltrane - Sun Ship 14. Converge - You Fail Me 15. The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium 16. Slowdive - Souvlaki 17. Jeromes Dream - Seeing Means More Than Safety 18. Max Roach - Members, Don't Git Weary 19. Boards of Canada - Geogaddi 20. Joni Mitchell - Hejira 21. Isis - Wavering Radiant 22. Broadcast - Tender Buttons 23. Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights 24. Charles Mingus - Let My Children Hear Music

25. Q and Not U - No Kill No Beep Beep 26. Fugazi - Red Medicine 27. Orchid - Orchid 28. My Bloody Valentine - Loveless 29. Tim Hecker - Harmony In Ultraviolet 30. Candy Claws - Ceres & Calypso in the Deep Time 31. Natural Snow Buildings - The Dance of the Moon and the Sun 32. toe - For Long Tomorrow 33. maudlin of the Well - Leaving Your Body Map 34. Ichiko Aoba - マホロボシヤ (Mahoroboshiya) 35. United Nations - The Next Four Years 36. Miles Davis - In A Silent Way 37. Nujabes - Modal Soul 38. Unwound - Repetition 39. Aphex Twin - Drukqs 40. Ornette Coleman - Science Fiction 41. Agalloch - Ashes Against the Grain 42. Siouxsie and the Banshees - Tinderbo 43. Yves Tumor - Heaven to a Tortured Mind 44. Boris - Flood 45. Massive Attack - Mezzanine 46. Boredoms - Vision Creation Newsun 47. Akira Yamaoka - Silent Hill 2 48. Paddy McAloon - I Trawl The Megahertz 49. Panopticon - Autumn Eternal 50. Kate Bush - Hounds of Love 51. Krallice - Years Past Matter 52. Every Time I Die - The Big Dirty 53. Kayo Dot - Choirs of the Eye 54. The Blood Brothers - ...Burn, Piano Island, Burn 55. Pavement - Brighten the Corners 56. slauson malone - A Quiet Farwell, 2016-2018 57. Sonny Sharrock - Ask The Ages 58. Drive Like Jehu - Yank Crime 59. Flying Lotus - Cosmogramma 60. Sonic Youth - EVOL 61. The Field - From Here We Go Sublime 62. The Cure - Disintegration 63. Madlib - Beat Konducta Vol. 5-6 A Tribute To... 64. Autechre - LP5 65. Marvin Gaye - What's Going On 66. Yusef Lateef - Eastern Sounds 67. The Chariot - Long Live 68. tricot - T H E 69. Funkadelic - Maggot Brain 70. Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - Moanin' 71. Prince - Sign "☮︎" the Times 72. Godspeed You! Black Emperor - F♯A♯∞ [1995–1997] 73. The Avalanches - Since I Left You 74. Sunny Day Real Estate - How It Feels to Be Something On 75. NoMeansNo - Wrong 76. David Bowie - The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust 77. Oh No - Oh No Vs. Now-Again 78. Alcest - Écailles de lune 79. Electric Masada - At the Mountains of Madness 80. Grant Green - Idle Moments 81. Julia Holter - Loud City Song 82. Frank Zappa - Hot Rats 83. Alice Coltrane - Journey in Satchidananda 84. Protomartyr - Relatives In Descent 85. Hüsker Dü - Zen Arcade 86. Chelsea Wolfe - Abyss 87. Tatsuro Yamashita - For You 88. Bruno Pernadas - Those Who Throw Objects at the Crocodiles... 89. Rahsaan Roland Kirk - The Inflated Tear 90. Discordance Axis - The Inalienable Dreamless 91. The Fall of Troy - Doppelgänger 92. Talking Heads - Speaking in Tongues 93. Death - Symbolic 94. Modest Mouse - The Moon & Antarctica 95. King Crimson - Red 96. Junko Yagami - Communication 97. Ne Obliviscaris - Portal Of I 98. Wayne Shorter - Speak No Evil 99. Wolves in the Throne Room - Two Hunters 100. Refused - The Shape of Punk to Come 101. Fishmans - Uchu Nippon Setagaya 102. DJ Shadow - Endtroducing..... 103. Hiatus Kaiyote - Mood Valiant 104. Pharoah Sanders - Karma 105. Brutus - Nest 106. fleshwater - We're Not Here to Be Loved 107. Lightning Bolt - Hypermagic Mountain 108. Burial - Untrue 109. NEPTUNIAN MAXIMALISM - Éons 110. Weyes Blood - Titanic Rising 111. Standing On The Corner - Red Burns 112. Taeko Onuki - SUNSHOWER 113. Pg.99 - Document #8 114. Alvvays - Blue Rev 115. Genesis Owusu - Smiling with No Teeth 116. Cibo Matto - Stereotype A 117. D'Angelo - Voodoo 118. Gouge Away - Burnt Sugar 119. Opeth - Ghost Reveries 120. The Number Twelve Looks Like You - Worse Than Alone

121. Ahmad Jamal Trio - The Awakening 122. Bill Evans - Symbiosis 123. Deftones - Koi No Yokan 124. The Chameleons - Script of the Bridge 125. Newfound Interest In Connecticut - Tell Me About the... 126. City of Caterpillar - City of Caterpillar 127. Minnie Riperton - Come To My Garden 128. Lil Ugly Mane - THIRD SIDE OF THE TAPE 129. mewithoutYou - Catch For Us The Foxes 130. Love Spirals Downwards - Flux 131. Ohbliv - Retrospective 132. Liv.e - Couldn't Wait To tell You... 133. Shinsei Kamattechan - tsumanne 134. Herbie Hancock - Sextant 135. Beach House - Bloom 136. Wormrot - Hiss 137. Fiona Apple - Fetch the Bolt Cutters 138. Anri - Timely!! 139. Cloud Rat - Threshold 140. Polaris - Home 141. Yes - Close to the Edge 142. Bloc Party - Silent Alarm 143. Coaltar of the Deepers - Submerge 144. Deafheaven - Lonely People With Power

#music recommendations #favorite albums #topster #top 100 albums

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 months ago

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Stars are bright for a new future; George Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

Alright this is the LAST of the mini-series that I promised. For those that came across my Sirius Black daughter fic years ago and for the past few months had come in to see how I started to form a relationship between the reader and George, well now's the end of their journey. It's a long, ANGSTY road so buckle up, get your tissues ready and some comfort food, stuffed toy, fav pet idc.

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@plethora-of-things

@remussl0vers

@psychosupernatural

___________________________________________________

I stood before the mirror at the Burrow and saw myself in my wedding dress. Much like my Yule Ball dress, constellations of stars decorated the skirt of the dress and the bodice had a beautiful golden stitched design of the crescent moon cradling the North Star under it’s tip. Molly, Ginny, Hermione, Luna and Fleur were all gathered around me as Molly was helping me adjust my veil.

“Oh (Y/n), you truly are a star in human form. My brother is so lucky to have you as his bride.” Praised Ginny.

“I’m the lucky one. But you Weasley’s not too heartbroken that I’m not sharing your name as per tradition.”

“George made his decision when he proposed the question. Trust me dearie they’ll be plenty of Weasley’s to go around but you are the last of the Black family. And who better to bring that family into a better light than you and my son?” Said Molly as she cupped my face. I smiled at her and hugged her.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me these past several years, mum.” I whispered to her. I heard her softly gasp as she embraced me tighter to the point where I’d feel my bones pop. A knock was soon heard and Harry’s voice came from the other side.

“Everyone descent?”

“We’re all good Harry.” Hermione called out. He soon opened the door wearing his dark blue tux.

“Who would’ve thought you’d look good in Ravenclaw blue Harry Potter.” I couldn’t help but tease.

“It does make his eyes stand out, don’t they?” Luna stated.

“One day, you get this for one day.”

“That’s fine. But just know you would’ve made a fine honorary Ravenclaw in my books.”

“Alright then, come along now girls, the boys are waiting for you downstairs. Let’s give the bride and the brother some time alone.” Molly stated and soon she and the rest of my bridesmaids all left the room leaving Harry and I alone. Harry came up to me and he said.

“You really do look beautiful (Y/n). And I know they would’ve thought so too.”

“It’s been two years since the War at Hogwarts. And 4 nearly 5 years since dad died. But it’s like dad once told us, the ones that love us—”

“Never really leave us.” Finished Harry with a soft smile.

“I just never thought George would be willing to do the wedding so soon. He was—broken when we lost Fred. Sure you and I have lost people we loved but I cannot imagine the pain of losing someone who you’ve practically shared a life with. The other half of your own person, especially since Fred was the oldest of the pair. George always followed in his brother’s shadow.”

“Which always amazed me of how you were the only one able to tell them apart. Or even know which one it was that you’d end up falling for.” I playfully shoved Harry.

“But it still hurts that he’s not here to see this day. When we finally got together, Fred always used to joke and tease us about wedding planning or how he’d set off the biggest firework display in the middle of the ceremony. And I’m talking about our exit out of Hogwarts when Umbridge was Headmaster level.”

“I would not want to be in Fred’s shoes if I had done that. A scary bride is one thing, a scary bride who can also transform into a puma at will is a whole other level of terrifying.”

“And that’s why you’re the best little brother ever.” I embraced him and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for being the one to give me away.”

“You’ve been there for me many times before (Y/n). Figure I’d return the favor for the biggest day of your life.” He embraced me back. “What is that amazing smell?” he asked after a brief moment of silence. I separated from him and we both sniffed the air and said together.

“Chocolate.” We couldn’t help but softly laugh thinking about uncle Remus. He always did say ‘a piece of chocolate is the key to a better day.’ And knowing of the chocolate fountain that was downstairs as well as a chocolate wedding cake, he would’ve enjoyed the dessert spread.

“You ready Black?”

“Ready Potter.” He extended his arm out to me and I placed my arm through his and we walked out together of the house and headed outside where the ceremony was being held.

The sun was setting over the horizon basking the sky in a beautiful orange, pink and yellow glow. The torches were lit along the walkway and George stood there with Minister Kingsley who would officiate the wedding. George wore a similar dark blue tux with his special Weasley Wizard Wheezes tie and flashing pin. He stared at me in complete awe and love and I couldn’t help but think back to everything that’s happened in the last two years.

*Fred’s funeral*

It was finally over. Voldemort was finally dead, Bellatrix was dead, Peter Pettigrew was dead. But there was also a great loss on our side as well. Many students as well as powerful aurors had lost their lives in the Second Wizard’s war. The Marauders were all dead now that my godfather Remus has now joined with my dad and uncle James in the afterlife. The same goes for Tonks after we had finally just started to get to know each other and naming me Teddy’s godmother.

But the biggest loss of all came from the Weasley’s. Fred had been crushed when a wall had exploded from a Death eater’s attack. Everyone was devastated but none so more than my George.

He lost the other half of his soul. I may be his girlfriend but even I can’t compete with the bond that he and Fred shared. So once the bodies had been counted for, we held a conjoined funeral for both Fred and Remus and Tonks.

Remus and Tonks were buried at Godric’s Hollow right next to my dad, aunt Lily and uncle James while Fred was buried within the borders of The Burrows. I’ll never forget the sound of George’s screams of heartbreak the second Fred’s casket was being lowered. He could barely keep himself standing as he fell to his knees crying hysterically.

I knelt down beside him and tried my best to console him but I knew it wasn’t enough. One by one each member of the Weasley’s left, then Harry and Hermione leaving only George and I as the sun set in the background.

George was left a sullen shell as he stared at his older twin’s grave. His eyes bloodshot red, his cheeks glistening with tearstains and the smile that I had fallen for time and time again seemed nonexistent, like he had never smiled before in his entire life and probably wouldn’t ever again.

We stayed at Fred’s grave all night and into the next morning.

He didn’t want to go back to the flat above the shop, nor did he wish to stay at the Burrows. So I had suggested Grimmauld place. We apparated there and I allowed him to stay in one of the bedrooms and sleep while I did some cleaning and prepared him a well-cooked meal.

He hadn’t really eaten at the funerals (hell neither did I really) so needless to say I was hungry was an understatement. But it wasn’t until I had accidentally dropped the plates that it all suddenly hit me. Fred, my brother was dead, my godfather was dead, my cousin turned godmother Tonks was dead, I was officially the last member of the Black Family.

I wept into my hands alone in the kitchen.

The world moved on and tried to heal. Some managed to get back on their feet and continue on with life, while others were stuck in their grief. This time around I had to stay strong for George, when I lost my dad I was broken and he was the one there to pick me up.

For days he never left his room, all I heard was either silence or the faint sounds of his sobbing whenever I’d go and check up on him or deliver his food. Some days he wouldn’t even touch the food and other days there’d be a couple of bites out of a sandwich or the spoon had been dipped into the soup.

Days soon turned into weeks and I had to face reality. The shop needed to be managed because we were running behind on the payments and nearly risking foreclosure on the property. So nearly using every ounce of my father’s and mother’s inheritance they had left for me, I paid them what they owed plus interest to ensure George wouldn’t lose the only thing left of his brother he had. Even if he never wanted to set foot in it again.

With Ron’s help, the two of us came together and managed the shop together. Of course its not to say that it wasn’t hard being back in the shop especially seeing all the products that came from the brilliance of Fred’s mind, especially the pranks and jokes that he’d pull on us back in the day.

But talking about it actually brought Ron and I got closer to each other as we’d reminisce over Fred’s memory and love for practical jokes and nautical nonsense. He also asked me about George but when I stayed silent, he told me that his mum and Ginny were the same.

Apparently Molly had been seen finishing Fred’s Christmas sweater she had planned to give him this year before realizing that he’d never get to wear it and started bawling over it. While Ginny had been seen sitting in Fred and George’s old room sitting on his bed holding a picture of the first time she would be leaving for Hogwarts.

He told me more about how each family member was taking the loss of Fred so hard, especially Percy. Now I could honestly care less for that prick after all he did to them but I didn’t want to cause a scene within the grieving family.

How could someone abandon their family and treat them the way Percy did and then just switch back like nothing happened. Hell there are days I wish that it was Percy that died and not Fred, after all he was there when Fred took the hit, why didn’t he do something about it? But like I said, I didn’t want to cause a scene with the family.

After sweeping up and locking up the shop for the night, I left with the paperwork and sat there in the kitchen with papers scattered everywhere. The dying lights of the hearth being my only source of light as I looked over everything. Being co-owner meant that I was the next capable person to go over this type of stuff since George is—well.

When I went to stretch my arms out, I soon saw George standing at the kitchen door.

“George!” I wiped away the tired tears from my eyes. “I didn’t hear you come down.” The first time in a month he had finally left the bedroom. His eyes sunken in and the light of his brown eyes seemed dead. He was ghostly pale and thinner than I’ve ever seen him. “Love, you okay?”

“Can I have a cup of tea?” He whispered hoarsely. The first real request he’s asked for since before the battle at Hogwarts and it warmed my heart to hear him ask for something instead of hoping he’d take whatever I had given him.

“Coming right up.” He walked over and set down at the chair closest to me and I stacked away all the papers while reigniting the fireplace so that the tea could get boiling. Once it was ready, I poured him his cup and set it down in front of him.

He slowly reached out and held it in his hands for a moment or two before lifting it up and taking a small sip.

“Do we have anything to eat?”

“Thanks to your mum we’ve got plenty of food to last us nearly ten years here. Been sending us pies and casseroles galore.”

“Did…..she send over a meat pie?”

“About seven of them. Would you like a slice?” he nodded and I sat up and got a plate ready then went into the fridge and took out of the pies that I had already started eating whenever I wanted to stuff my face while going through one of my depressed moods. I warmed up the pie with a simple spell before having a piece be cut up and placed it onto the plate. “Here you are George. Tuck in.”

He cut into the tip of the pie and ate it. His eyes closed as I could see the quiver from his lips as he got the taste of home once again. I’ll admit even though she’d helped me, nothing will ever compare to a mother’s homecooked meal, especially if your mum is Molly Weasley.

Amazingly George managed to finish the pie right down to the last crumb as well as drink all the tea I had prepped for him. He sat there before asking me.

“What were all those papers who had scattered out?”

“Just paperwork for the shop. Won’t have to worry about anymore foreclosures for a long, long time. But there’s also partnership deals with Zonko’s, inventory, delivery contracts, just the normal business stuff.”

“And you’ve been doing all of this on your own?”

“Not completely alone. Just the paperwork. Ron’s actually helped out in the shop. He’s quite the salesman when he wants to be. Really knows how to sell a product while reminiscing of said product being used on him. He may complain and grumble about it but I see that smile he tries to hide.” I turned to see George looking down shamefully.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what Georgie?”

“I’ve been such a soiled sod. Here you are trying to keep the ship from sinking and I’m just sulking not doing a bloody thing about it!”

“George.”

“If he were here, oh he’d give me hell for this. All our hard work and I’m almost about to toss it all away! Let it sink into the ground and…..”

“George Fabian Weasley!” I snapped. I gripped his face in between my hands forcing him to look at me. “You’re not a soiled sod, you’re grieving. I’ve been where you’ve been, trust me. Don’t you remember how distraught I was after my dad died? How angry and disassociated I was from the rest of the world?” he gave me a soft nod. “But a wise and kindhearted man once told me that I didn’t need to slap a smile on my face and move on so quickly. He told me that I was allowed to feel what I wanted to feel, even if it meant taking a couple of steps backward.”

“Gee this fellow sounds pretty wise.” There he was. I could see the hint of light of my Georgie in his eyes and the slightest twinge of his smile.

“And quite handsome if I must say.” Having played this quip back and forth I had expected him to reply with ‘The better looking one?’ but I saw as his face once again crumbled apart as he leaned in and hugged me.

“I miss him (Y/n). I miss him so much!” George wept into my neck.

“So do I George. So do I.” I brushed my fingers through his hair softly stroking his scalp and rubbed his back while he squeezed me as tight as he could while he continued to weep.

*6 months later*

As the months went by George started coming around bit by bit. He had his off days where he’d go back to shutting himself up in the room but mostly he’d come out. Eat a snack or two, drink some water or tea, help around the house, or just watch me as I do the paperwork.

Now that the Christmas holiday was around the corner, there were more owl-mail in orders from some of the parents or older siblings for the younger students who had just attended Hogwarts. Molly had also sent in both mine and George’s presents. I had gotten another Weasley Christmas jumper as well as a cute beanie with the Ravenclaw sigil on it. George got a new scarf and a jumper of his own.

He looked at the jumper solemnly stroking the golden lettering that stood proudly at the center of it. I reached out and took his hand.

“You doing okay, George?”

“I—” he dropped his gift and let out a sniffle before harshly wiping his eyes away.

“Hey,” I squeezed his hand before reaching out and taking his other hand. I knelt down in front of him and pressed my forehead to his. “What’s going on up there?”

“It……it doesn’t f-feel the same. Not without him. N—no more matching sets.” He choked out. Tears slipped down past his eyelashes and I kissed his nose.

“I know. Like the first Christmas at Hogwarts when you two switched jumpers and went about calling each other the other’s names. That really threw me for a loop.”

“(Y/n) please I—I can’t hear any stories of him. I’m sorry I….” he stood up and ran back upstairs, his jumper falling in the middle of the kitchen and the doorway out. I sighed deeply and walked over to pick up his jumper and hold it in my hands.

I pressed the jumper close to my chest as tears of my own fell down my face. I headed outside and looked up at the night sky, the stars twinkling under the half-moon.

“What do I do Freddie?” I softly pleaded. “I’ve tried everything but—the only thing that could make George happy again is if you come back to life. You two share a bond that I can’t have with him. Please….tell me what to do. How do I help the man I love?” but they remained silent.

I put on George’s jumper and headed back inside and cleaned up the mess and stored the food away for later. As I went to fill the stockings over by the fireplace, a picture over the mantle suddenly tipped over and was nearly about to crack when my cat reflexes came into play and I caught the picture.

As I went to put it back up, I saw that the picture was me and the twins on the grand opening of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. The three of us standing outside the building dressed in our best. Fred spinning me around before George took me in his arms and kissed me.

Even though he and I had been up all night reminiscing the past and eventually confessing our feelings for one another, it was still a great day. We saw more sales than we could ever imagine within the first few hours of the day. I smiled sadly and kissed the picture before setting it back down and decided to retire for the night.

The next morning, I peeked inside George’s room and saw him laying on the bed once again. I brought him his jumper that I had worn to bed last night and set it over him.

“I’m gonna pop by the shop for a moment. I’ll be back later this afternoon, send Arella if you need me for anything, okay?” he remained still but I still gave him a kiss goodbye before apparating to the shop.

There really wasn’t anything to do. Ron and I had decided to have the shop remain closed until the New Year and there wasn’t any new deliveries around the same time. I just really wanted to be in the shop and think about all the memories of Fred.

Picking up each product that he had a hand in producing whether from his own hands or from his clever brain. I stroked my hand over the puking pastilles before seeing the Skiving snack boxes just across from them. Our last year of them finally getting the bugs out of the product before finally selling it as a collection, those first years didn’t know what hit them.

I looked up to my funny Umbridge dummy on the tight rope carrying the weight of cr��me. While it had been my idea, it was Fred who made the design and brought my vision to light truthfully I didn’t even think he’d actually do it. I just did it for shits and laughs but low and behold there it was calling it a brilliant idea to really stick it to the toad-faced bitch.

I went up the stairs to the next level and soon caught sight of the love potion products. I walked over to it and picked up one of the bottles and observed it.

“I wonder if you gave this to George when testing it out? After all didn’t you once say that you tested all of these products on yourselves before selling it to others.”

“He tried to.” I jumped and saw George standing there.

“How did—”

“Floo powder.” He answered. He was still in his pjs but that didn’t matter we weren’t opened so no one had to see him like this. “Once we had the perfect brew for it, he constantly got me to test it out. Thinking that I’d finally have the balls to admit my feelings for you. And everytime I rejected it, he then threatened to test it out on you.”

“And what did you do?”

“What else? I drank the whole bloody bottle and threatened to use the Imperio curse on him if he dared to try testing it on you.”

“So threatening.” I teased as I set the potion down and wrapped my arms around his waist. George pulled me closer to him. “There was only one man meant for me, and no love potion is ever gonna change that.” He squeezed me tighter.

“So—you and Ron really kept this ship from sinking.”

“Don’t underestimate little Ronald. Like I said he knows how to be a salesman. And being co-owner you’d think you’d have more faith in me.”

“You? Never.” He kissed my forehead before looking around the shop and walked off. I slowly trailed behind him and saw him go over to the ‘Caramel Cat-titude cough-drops.’

“This was one of the first original ideas we had.” He said.

“I thought it was the nosebleed nougats?”

“No. This was it. When you told us that you were an animagus and you showed us your other form. Fred thought it’d be brilliant to make a cough drop out of it. While getting the taste of caramel, there’s a salty taste to it and it gives you the attitude of a cougar for about 30min.”

“At first I had no idea why you guys needed a sample of my fur until I had seen Alicia throwing a fit after your loss to us at Quidditch our third year. She even let out a cougar roar.”

“She’ll swear up and down that you cheated.”

“I can’t let Harry get all the wins now can I?” a brief smile came across his face when I reached up and grabbed the Instant thoughts beans.

Pop one of these babies into your mouth and instantly you’ll be bursting out the first though that’s in your head. It’s not quite as powerful as the Veritaserum spell but it forces the eater to just speak their thoughts no matter how random they were, whether being asked a question or not.

“Did I ever tell you that my parents got together because of the Veritaserum spell?” I asked him.

“Oh rubbish.”

“No, no it’s all true. My dad and uncle James had switched out my mum’s favorite cup of tea for Veritaserum. And instantly she started blabbering every secret, including her feelings for my dad. She swore to never forgive him for it but he soon wooed her over. But it took a lot of work please believe it.”

“But it worked out in the end for them. You’re the final product of their love story.” George said as he wrapped his arms from behind me swaying us from side to side.

“George, what made you want to step into the store? Not that I’m not happy you’re here. I mean you just left the house for the first time in months. But I’m just curious, why?” he sighed as he buried his face into my neck.

“Truthfully I didn’t even want to leave. But as I went to see the stockings, I saw the picture of the three of us together on the opening day of the shop. And hearing you trying to tell the story of our first Christmas at Hogwarts as friends, I guess…..I wanted to try and remember more. But it hurts everytime I think about him. Hell even looking into a mirror hurts because……” I reached up and cupped the side of his face with my right hand.

“When my dad died, all I kept thinking about were the memories of the two of us together. Sure thinking about them did hurt me on the inside but there was something else there to. The love he had for me, and that I had for him. 12 years of being locked up in Azkaban and he never once gave up on the love he had for me. He told me that just remembering my face and saying my name filled him with a light that not even the Dementors could take away from him. And even from the short time we had at the time before he was taken, he held onto those memories keeping them buried deep inside so that his sanity would remain if there ever came a day that we’d be reunited again.”

George and I looked at one another as I turned in his arms cupping his face.

“And even though—he’s gone. The memories you two shared together will always be there. And yeah while it will hurt to talk about or even think about, they’ll eventually turn into the love that you both shared and had for one another. So always hold onto that my darling, and the pain of losing him won’t hurt as much. Because he wouldn’t want your memories together to be filled with pain, like he said—”

“The world deserves a good laugh every once in a while.” We both softly laughed.

Oh Merlin how have I missed that laugh, and that smile of his. I stroked his cheeks as I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. George wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up as our lips refused to break apart.

A true loving and heartfelt kiss was made between us. A mixture of love and sorrow. I knew he was still hurting but there was still the love that he always made sure to bring forth everytime he kissed me in the past. And bit by bit, hopefully George would be able to full accept his grief but not let the sorrow consume him.

*One year later*

After braving of going back into the shop and helping me manage it, George felt that it was time to reconnect with the family again. He hadn’t spoken a word to the rest of his family since the funeral. Of course, Molly and Arthur sent their love whenever they could whether it was through Christmas presents or just friendly letters letting him know they were thinking of him and that they loved and missed him.

So we had taken the Floo powder to the Burrow and when we had arrived, we were immediately greeted by Molly. The warmth sparkle in her eyes lit up just a bit more as she first greeted me.

“Welcome home (Y/n) darling.”

“Hey Molly, been awhile. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to visit lately, the store’s just kept me busy.”

“Oh no matter dearie. So long as you take the time to visit me. Running a business is a full time commitment.”

“Without her we would’ve lost it.” George spoke up. Molly turned to her son and tried her best to not look sympathetic as she walked up to him and embraced him. George hugged his mother back.

“You’ve gotten skinnier last time I saw you George. Come on, you’re just in time for lunch.”

“Really mum I’m not—”

“Oh don’t you give me that! You may not live here anymore but you’re still my son and I won’t have my boys go hungry. If you won’t listen to (Y/n) you’ll surely listen to me.” She then went straight for the kitchen and he muttered to me.

“You had to tell her that?”

“You know you can’t hide anything from your mother.” We walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. It nearly felt like old times of us sitting at the Weasley family table where the only thing we had to worry about was trying to hide the latest Weasley prank product from Molly.

The sound of footsteps came down the stairs and soon Ron and Ginny made themselves known. Ginny stared at her big brother in shock and muttered his name.

“Hey Gin.” She walked up to him and gave him a hard punch at his shoulder. George exclaimed in pain but before he could say anything, Ginny immediately hugged him.

“Welcome back you dummy.” George wrapped his arm around his little sister and whispered.

“Sorry it took so long sis. And sorry to worry you so much.”

“You’re here now. And I hope you’ll visit around more often, especially since I’m getting closer to my own graduation at Hogwarts.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Ginny kissed her brother’s cheek before sitting down. Ron and George shook hands before embracing each other as well and George thanked Ron for helping me with the shop but Ron brushed it off and told him it wasn’t a big deal.

“Afternoon Weasleys!” Arthur’s voice soon proclaimed. We all greeted him back as he came walking through the kitchen door entrance. When Arthur spotted us, he greeted us softly and George greeted his father back with a sad smile.

Arthur immediately embraced his son and told him.

“Glad to have you home son.”

“Thanks dad. Sorry that I—”

“I understand George. You and…..and Fred. You two were something special from the day you both were born. We all missed him but you had a stronger bond than any of us could ever know.”

“Alright Arthur, have a seat and tuck in. I’ve made everyone’s favorite.” Molly spoke up and we all gathered around and had a comforting lunch.

As the day went on, we had all just sat around the family living room and just talked. Ginny told us about her offerings for playing professional Quidditch once she graduated, Ron had said that he had been offered a position as an Auror and was thinking about taking it.

He also talked about Harry and Hermione. How he and Hermione had managed to find a place of their own and how well Harry was doing as an Auror for the Ministry.

I felt George take my hand and raise it up to his lips as he kissed the back of my hand. I smiled softly at him and squeezed his hand three times. I. Love. You. He squeezed back the same number of times before he stood up and said.

“I uhh—I actually have an announcement to make.” Okay now this was a surprise. Ginny turned to me and looked at me and mouthed.

‘Do you know?’ I shook my head no.

“I….I’m actually glad this time around this house isn’t crowded with people. I just want to have this announcement first be made by family members only.” He turned to me and took my hand once again and stood me up. “This past year has been…..hell. For all of us. We lost—we lost one of our own but if it weren’t for this saint of a woman I don’t know where I would be. (Y/n), you once said that I was your light at the end of your dark tunnel. Well this past year you became my light in my dark tunnel. And I never want to risk losing you.” He got down on one knee as Ginny and Molly let out a gasp. I felt my feet root into the very ground as George held my left hand while reaching into his pocket. “(Y/n) Celeste Black, will you marry me?”

He opened the small red box up to reveal a beautiful diamond engagement ring. For once tears of joy fell down my face as I nodded and told him.

“Yes.” He smiled softly and took the ring out of the box and placed it on my ring finger. He stood up and we embraced each other tightly as the rest of the Weasley’s all cheered and gathered around in a group hug.

“I finally get my favorite sister in law!” Ginny cheered.

“About bloody time, I thought Hermione and I were gonna have to get married before you two.” Joked Ron.

“Oh hush up Ronald Weasley!” reprimanded Molly. We all separated from our group hug and Molly cupped my face into her hands. “We always knew you’d make it into the family (Y/n) dear.”

“Now it’ll be official. (Y/n) Weasley.”

“Actually dad she won’t be a Weasley.” George spoke up. We all turned to George in confusion.

“What do you mean love?” I asked. He took my hands again and held them up between us.

“You are the last member of the Black family lineage. You may not have liked or known most of that family but it is yours. And I feel like with you, we could change the name ‘Black’ into a more respected and prosperous family. I’d like to take on the name Black once we are married.”

“George you—you sure about this?”

“I’ve thought it over and I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.” He stroked under my chin lovingly.

“So does that mean we’ll have to rename the shop?” asked Ron.

“No, it’ll stay the same. In Fred’s honor. I’m sure he would’ve accepted my decision to do this.”

“I’m sure he would George.” Arthur said proudly.

“George Fabian Black.” I tested the name, “It’ll take some getting used to but—I could see the potential of it.”

“Besides dear, they’ll be plenty of Weasleys to come around. I agree with George. You’re not like the rest of your family and I think with you, you could change your family name into something good.” Molly said.

“Thank you Molly, thank you all.”

“Now then, best be off to bed. We’re gonna get started bright and early with the wedding plans.” Molly gestured to all of her kids. I turned to George and had flashbacks to Bill and Fleur’s wedding preparations.

Oh yeah Mama Weasley the wedding planner was back and this time she had a wedding she’s been waiting for. So best not to anger her.

*End of Flashback*

Harry and I stood before George and Minister Kingsley and Harry and I turned to each other and he lifted my veil over my head before kissing my cheek.

I smiled at him and he gave me a soft smile back before he went up to George and the two of them shook hands with each other before he went to join alongside the other Groomsmen.

George held out his hand and I immediately took it as he helped me step onto the gazebo and we stood before Minister Kingsley as he said.

“Family, friends, and honored guests. We have gathered here today to celebrate the union of this young wizard and witch in wedding bliss. Magic is and has always been our way of life, powerful spells and hexes have been the wizards bread and butter. But what some may not know is that there is a magic more powerful than even the most powerful of spell, or even the most powerful of curses. Love is a magic unlike any other, and there is no greater love than the witch and wizard that stand before you now.”

George and I smiled at each other as we continued to hold each other’s hands.

“It is to my knowledge that the bride and groom have each prepared their own vows for one another. George Weasley, you may speak first.” George and I turned to face each other, each of us grabbing the other’s free hand. George rubbed the back of my hands as he said.

“(Y/n) Celeste Black. For years it had just been the—the Weasley twins. Never did I think I could form such a bond with someone who wasn’t……who wasn’t Fred. But like a cheeky raven who wouldn’t fly away, you stuck around.” Myself and the crowd all had a good laugh at that statement. “You were a true Ravenclaw through and through from your strategic planning to your clever ideas. Your brilliant mind is what became a beacon and I knew I had to keep you in my life. In time I saw just who you really were. Your loyal heart, your kindness, your willingness to lend a helping hand, and even willing to love someone like me. You’re my best friend, the love of my life, my Northern Star in the sky guiding me back to home. And I solemnly swear to spend the rest of my life giving you as much love as you have given me.”

“Ms. Black, now you.” Minister Kingsley said to me.

“George Fabian Weasley, I spent most of my life in the dark. People always judged me based from my name, I thought I would forever be alone in the dark tunnel. But a wise man once told me, ‘Even in the darkest of places, you can still find a glimmer of light.’ You became my light. Your humor, your wit, but it was also your empathy that made me feel a love that I thought I wasn’t worthy of. You saw me not for my name, but the girl I was just trying to be. And I solemnly swear to be your Light in the dark tunnel just like you have been for me.”

“The vows have been spoken, may we have the rings?” Ron and Hermione each gave us our rings and George was to go first. “Mr. Weasley repeat after me; I George Fabian Weasley.”

“I, George Fabian Weasley.” He repeated.

“Take you, (Y/n) Celeste Black as my wizardly wedded wife.”

“In sickness and in health, from now until the end of my days.”

“I promise to love and cherish you.”

“So long as we both shall live.”

“So long as we both shall live.” George slid the wedding ring onto my finger. Squeezing my hand three times as I tried to keep the tears in.

“And now you Ms. Black.” I repeated the same vows to George and as I finished, I slid on his wedding band and squeezed his hand three times giving him my reply.

I love you too.

“By the power vested onto me as Minister of Magic I now declare these two as Mr. and Mrs. Black. You may now kiss your bride.” George cupped the side of my face and lowered his head down to capture my lips and we shared our first passionate kiss as husband and wife.

The crowd cheered as our closest school mates, favorite professors, and family members all applauded as George and I were finally married.

The reception was done under the tent as the stars and full moon shone brightly. Beautiful music was playing as we all celebrated the night away. The tossing of the bouquet was enjoyable as my friends all tried to get the bouquet (of course Hermione was the one to catch it in the end) and when the garter was tossed, Ron (who wasn’t really a part of it) still managed to get a hold of it as it was flung towards him.

George and I had our first dance as husband and wife and dancing with him brought me back to the night of the Yule Ball when my feelings for him truly started to come to light. Just like that night, George had us chest to chest with each other, our arms wrapped around each other’s waist and neck as we swayed to the love song playing in the background.

George then lifted me up into the air making me giggle before we would resume our dance once again. And not once did we break our focus from each other’s gaze. It was like each of us was trying to memorize the other’s facial detail down to the last freckle or eyelash.

As the night went on, I’d gaze up at the stars and anxiously as the time to give George his wedding gift was getting close. I let out a yelp as George playfully let out a growl as he buried his face into my neck.

“You really can’t get used to that by now, can you?”

“Why bother, you know you love it when you scare me near to death.”

“Not all the time. I just love hearing all those sounds you make. Like you will soon once everyone clears out.” I flicked his forehead and said.

“Before all that good stuff, I’d like you to come with me.”

“Ooo sneaking off at our own wedding. The scandal.” He gasped mockingly as he swayed us from side to side.

“We’re already married you rotter. The cakes been cut, dance has been done and speeches have been said. I don’t think anyone will miss us for a few minutes.”

“Very well, lead the way Mrs. Black.”

“Follow me then, Mr. Black.” I took his hand and we left the reception and headed further out into the fields of the Burrows. Once George began to realize where we were heading, he stopped.

“(Y/n).” he said anxiously.

“I know love, but do you trust me?” I said turning to face him as I squeezed his hand comfortingly. He gave me three squeezes back and I gave him a nod telling him that he could take the first step into where we were going. He took a deep breath before walking forward until we came to an open field.

There a pine tree now stood where at the foot of it lay a grave that read the familiar wording:

Fredrick Gideon Weasley

Born April 1st, 1978

Died May 2nd, 1998

Loyal brother, son, friend and wizard

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good”

George and I stood before Fred’s grave and he turned to me and asked.

“Why are we here?”

“As my dad once said, the ones that love us never really leave us. In my mum’s journals and spell books, her family believed that when a loved one’s spirit dies, they can be chosen to become one of the stars in the night sky. And if it is written by the stars themselves, they can be called back and have one chance to talk with those they left behind in the afterlife.”

I pulled from my dress a vial filled with a crystal clear liquid. One would think I had filled it with giggly water or something from the fountain of youth.

It was a potion that I had found in one of mum’s spell books. The spell would only work if used under the same star constellations as when you had lost the person you wish to talk to. Even though a lot had happened, being a Celestial witch I knew the stars better than any other witch or wizard. And when I had found out that our wedding night would have the same star constellations as the night Fred died, I knew I had to prepare this potion quickly.

I only just hope I brewed it correctly because the spell can only work for so long before the stars shift out of place.

“So you’re—saying that I….that we can…..”

“If I brewed it right, one drop of this should call forth his spirit but there’s not much time left. The stars are exactly aligned now but they’ll shift soon. And they won’t align like this for at least 11 years.”

“I…….(Y/n) I…..” tears burned in Georgie’s eyes as he embraced me tightly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too Georgie.” He separated from me and took the vial from me and stood before Fred’s grave. He took the cork off but before he could tip the vial over, he turned to me and extended his hand.

“Together?” I smiled and came up to him and placed my hand over his that held the vial and I said.

“Together.” At the same time we tipped the vial over and a single drop landed at the center of Fred’s grave. We waited a few minutes but nothing happened.

My heart began to race as I grabbed the vial out of George’s hand and shook my head.

“But I…..”

“It’s alright love.” George assured me.

“No George this—this was supposed to be your wedding gift. I-I don’t understand it…..I slaved over this potion to ensure it would do at least something.”

“Who says it didn’t?” both George and I froze. Slowly we turned around and there stood Fred Weasley.

He wore the same outfit he was wearing that night at the Battle of Hogwarts. His face now clear of soot and dirt and his eyes gleaming with mischief and of starlight. And that cheeky smile, Merlin how I have missed that smile of his.

“You were the best potion maker in our year, even Snape couldn’t deny that. So why doubt yourself now?” George was frozen as he stared at his twin brother’s spirit. I held my hand to my chest as a single tear of happiness fell down my face.

I knew it. I knew it, deep down I knew it had to be true. If anyone’s soul deserved to be a star it was most definitely Fred Weasley.

“Freddie.” George softly gasped.

“Hey Georgie,” Fred stepped forward and gave him a nod of approval, “You did it mate, you married the girl of your dreams. And about bloody time too.” I chuckled watery while George smiled nodding at Fred’s statement. He then directed his attention to me and he said with a warm smile, “I know you’ve heard this all day but you’re gonna hear it one last time. You look absolutely radiant (Y/n).”

“Thank you Fred.”

“Your parents and Remus think so too.” Now I felt my body froze.

“You—wha?”

“They wanted me to tell you that they were watching the entire time. And that they are so proud of you, in everything you’ve done then and for everything you’ll do in the future to come.” He said warmly.

I covered my mouth with my hand as I felt an overwhelming bit of emotions wash over me. Now hearing from Fred whose seen my parents and Remus in the afterlife and hearing that they’re actually still watching over me (and not just in a metaphorical or theoretical sense), I couldn’t contain my tears.

“Oi now, this is your wedding day. I shouldn’t make either the bride or the groom turn into weeping willows.”

“Oh shut up you sod!” George groaned.

“There’s the Georgie I know.” We all laughed as George and I both wiped our tears. The three of us stood before each other as Fred said. “George, I need you to do me this one thing mate.”

“What’s that?”

“Keep smiling. I know these last two years without me haven’t been easy, cause let’s face it I was the better looking twin.” George scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “But the world needs a laugh now more than ever. We opened our shop during the war so that everyone could have a laugh even in the dark times. Well now everyone needs a laugh to recover from the pain and loss that everyone’s been suffering. Including you. And while your lovely wife has tried to do her best, she needs help. She needs you. After all, you were always the one who made it his mission to get her to laugh every day.”

“Yes. That was the first thing I truly loved about her.”

“And boy did I not hear the end of that.” Laughter once again rang out in our circle. Fred then turned his attention to me and reached out to me and I felt this warmth overcome me as he touched my cheek.

It may not have been his normal warmth, but it was like touching someone who had just come inside from a warm, summer’s day.

“As for you sister fox, keep an eye on this one.” He said gesturing his head towards George. “Just because he’s now your husband don’t fall for any of his tricks if he’s hiding something. You know how stubborn he can be.”

“As a Hippogriff.”

“Oi!” George exclaimed. Fred and I laughed and he whispered to me.

“Also your dad wanted me to tell you that he and Remus are both willing to haunt Georgie boy if he steps out of line with you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Padfoot and Moony. They always did like me more from our days with the Marauder’s map.”

“What’s not to like? I volunteered to join them as well. Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean I’m gonna side with him if he hurts you.” He slowly took his hand off my face but I could still feel the warmth of his touch on my cheek.

“I promise Fred.” I told him.

“We’ll do our best to make you proud.” George vowed.

“You both already have.” Fred answered us with an assuring smile. George bowed his head and I saw his shoulders beginning to shake. He whimpered as he stepped forward and embraced his twin brother tightly. Fred embraced him back as George wept.

“I wish you were still here.”

“Me too.” Fred choked out as I saw a crystal tear fall from his face. George continued to cry into his brother’s shoulder as he gripped Fred tighter before finally letting him go. Fred then turned to me (seeing them embrace had made me bawl like a baby) as I too immediately embraced him.

That same warmth now encompassed my entire body as he held onto me. A soothing rub on my back made it feel like everything was okay.

“I love you so much Freddie.”

“I love you too sis. I’ll be waiting for you both soon. But not too soon I hope.” I sniffled and as I separated from him, his body soon faded away until nothing but stardust was left as it headed back up into the sky.

“Freddie……I love you my brother.” George whimpered as he just stared at the spot where Fred once stood. George continued to let out a few shaky breaths before finally exhaling calmly. His body now still, he turned to me and came up to me and embraced me. “Thank you my darling, for letting me say goodbye to him. I love you.”

“I love you too George.” We looked at each other and he kissed my lips so gingerly before we looked up at the stars and bid our final farewell to Fred.

*13 years later*

12 Grimmauld Place was once a desolate place of darkness and hate had now been fully remodeled into a place of warmth, laughter and most of all love. The running of feet pounded through the upper levels of the complex and I rolled my eyes shaking my head as I continued on with preparing dinner. But when I heard a loud slam and a young female scream out.

“Mama! Mama!”

“Alright up there!” I exclaimed. “Someone better be bruised, bleeding or dead for me to unleash the cat!” I soon heard the thundering footsteps come down as three 11 year olds.

Two boys and one girl. The girl was practically a splitting image of me from when I was 11, same hair and everything including mine and her grandfather’s eyes. The two boys were nearly identical except one had my dark hair while the other inherited his father’s ginger colored hair. Both boys had their father’s eyes and nose from when he was their age.

“Mama, Sirius and Freddie were tag-teaming me again!” the girls whined out as she kept rubbing her head.

“Not true mum!” the boys chorused together. The ginger-haired boy said.

“(M/n) started it!”

“Ladies do not start fights but they can finish them!” the dark haired boy stuck his tongue out and I reprimanded.

“Sirius Remus Black, put your tongue back in your mouth we are not a snake.”

“That’s right, snakes aren’t allowed in this house.” George’s voice soon said.

“Dad!” all three children raced over to their father and hugged him. George set his briefcase down and embraced his triplets giving them each a kiss on the head. I smiled at the loving greeting George always did with the kids and following right behind him I saw our first born daughter Rowena Nymphadora Black. She, like her brother Fred, inherited her father’s red hair but had my eyes.

“Rowena, tell the boys that ladies don’t start fights but they can finish them.” Her little sister (M/n) said.

“Fred, Sirius, how many times do I have to tell you two dinguses that picking a fight with a lady will only lead to bad luck? Especially when she’s my favorite sibling.” She told her younger brothers.

“Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re the best prankster in the family.” Fred snide out.

“Never underestimate your sister there Freddie.” George said as he took him aside. “Ravenclaws are a clever, silent bunch. Believe it or not your mum got the best of me and your uncle back in our days at Hogwarts. Just don’t tell her I said that.” He whispered the last part.

“I heard that.” I called out. “Alright kittens move aside, matriarch of the house coming through.” The kids stepped aside as George and I kissed each other.

“Dad! Dad! We got our Hogwarts letters delivered today!” Sirius exclaimed as he and the kids all raced over to the kitchen table.

“They wanted to wait for you and Rowena to get back to open them.” I told them.

“Ohh well let’s waste no time.” George said as we all sat around the table and the triplets opened up their letters and read them aloud:

“Dear Mr. (Ms.) Black, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” They continued to read the letters out loud and once it ended with Headmaster McGonagall’s signature, the triplets cheered and there was hugs and kisses going all around.

“Alright, alright you three. Our deal was that you three could stay up until your dad and Rowena came home, now say goodnight. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow to get your school supplies.”

“Dad could we buy some stuff at the shop to take to school?” Fred asked.

“Do you think I wouldn’t allow my own children to miss out on bringing forth Weasley Wizard Wheezes products on their first day of school? The audacity!” George gasped dramatically which made me roll my eyes. “We’ll stop by and see what we can find after we get the rest of your school supplies. Now go on you lot, off to bed.” The triplets took off racing upstairs while Rowena started up behind when George called out, “Oh and Rowena love.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs turning to face her dad, “Don’t think I’m not going to ask about you and that Slytherin chap who was at the store today.”

“What Slytherin boy?” I asked.

“Dad please! He’s just a friend!”

“Your mum and I were just friends, and look how we turned out.” George said as he pulled me close nuzzling his face into my neck. Rowena gagged before racing up the stairs into her room.

“What’s this about a boy?”

“Apparently our little girl has fallen for a Slytherin chap in her year. Said they’ve been friends since second year after they became partners during potions class. But from the way he was holding her hand, I think there’s a bit more than friendship blossoming between them.”

“Like we were any better?”

“Hey I was always a gentleman.” I felt him give my butt a slap which made me yelp before I punched his arm as he laughed. Before I could get away, he grabbed hold of me holding me chest to chest to him. “I count my blessings every day that we met on the train, and that you managed to fall for the better looking Weasley twin.”

“Like I said, my heart knew what it wanted. Though your ego could stand to be taken down a beg or two.”

“That’s one of the many qualities that makes me charming.” We laughed softly before he captured my lips with his in a soft and passionate kiss. “I love you (Y/n) Celeste Black.” His hot breath breathed across my lips sending shivers up my spine.

“And I love you, George Fabian Black.” I whispered back before kissing him again.

Life has it’s ups and downs. Some good and some bad, we’ve been through hell and back in our brief lives but I count my blessings and thank the stars above that I at least had George Weasley in my life through it all and I know that’ll stay that way until the end of our days.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #sirius black daughter #harry potter fandom #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst

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ketamollykaine · 5 months ago

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Creepypasta AU Headcanons

Midnight City: Ticci Toby

★ He is 26, born on April 28th. He's a Taurus sun, Aquarius Moon, Aries Rising, Gemini Mercury, Libra Venus, Sagittarius Mars, Cancer Jupiter, Aries Saturn, Aquarius Neptune, Sagittarius Pluto.

★ Toby is 5'11" and is pretty slim, but has a bit of muscle mass. It's taken him a lot of time to grow due to CIPA and delayed growth hormones. He doesn't get many chances to have nutritious meals, given his proxy status.

★ Is from a lower middle class family from Denver, Colorado with German descent on his mother's side. Connie taught him quite a but of German, so sometimes he'll speak what he can remember.

★ His amnesia caused him to forget Lyra and his parents, but the C-PTSD he suffers from gives him anxiety around cars, hospitals, older women with dark hair, and men with light hair. He's subconsciously platonically attracted to women with lighter hair.

★ Toby has a cute, boy-ish face. Even though his right cheek is chewed through, he still has some softness to his face, but otherwise has a strong, defined jawline.

★ Thick brows all day. Very expressive and uses them a lot when communicating.

★ His non-verbal tics include cracking his knuckles, whistling, cracking his neck, bending backwards, turning his head to the side, and snapping his left hand repeatedly.

★ Some of his verbal tics are "Hi!" "Hey!" "Fuck!"

★ He doesn't get much sleep, so he has pretty sunken in eyes with dark circles, but his eyes themselves are a dark brown and still have a light to them. He's a sad boy, but there's some sunshine left in him.

★ Loves to take walks alone and talk to himself for hours. He'll entertain the voices in his head just as much as they entertain him. One can often find him laughing to himself and cracking jokes.

★ Even thought he's a generally upbeat guy, there's still a storm inside. More often than not, the voices are volatile and tell him to hurt himself and others. If it gets really bad, he'll go out and find someone to kill just to shut them up. He won't hurt himself, even thought he can't feel it. He knows the importance of keeping himself as healthy as possible due to his multiple conditions.

★ Works for Slenderman and is 100% under his control. Has no moral compass like Tim and Brian, even sometimes Kate.

★ Likes to wear neutrals and earth tones to blend into his surroundings. His typical garb includes blue jeans that are stained with dirt, a black turtleneck, a tan carharrt jacket with a fur lining, leather gloves, steel toe combat boots with one boot ladder laced with blue and the other with black.

★ Referring to the blue ladder laces, yes, Toby has killed a cop. Several actually.

★ Lives in a cabin in the woods with Tim, Brian, and Hopper. He took the smallest room, it feels more cozy to him.

★ Doesn't have many hobbies, but really enjoys nature. He'll collect firewood for the cabin and summer bonfires. I feel like he gets stereotyped as the lumberjack/woodsman, but it just fits, y'know? Sometimes he'll make collages out of found magazines or even just make zines.

★ Has a strong punk mindset and belief system. His style leans more towards midwest emo though.

★ Some of his favorite songs are "Geek Bar" by T!lt, "XANNY" - FIDLAR (Billie Eilish), "Pale" - Modern Color, and "Fentanyl" by McCafferty

★ Has his left eyebrow pierced, a dermal on his left cheek, both nostrils (spiked piercing), his tongue, and several cartilage piercings. Is looking to get a coin slot or a hole punched in one of his ears.

★ Surprisingly he doesn't have any tattoos yet. Piercings are easier for him because they're quick and his tics don't interfere too much.

★ Doesn't care for energy drinks too much, they make him uncomfortably jittery.

★ His best friends include Brian/Hoodie, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, and Dove/Hopper.

★ On his time off, he likes to go camping and travel to any closely lakes or beaches.

★ One of his bits is going "uh oh, Uh oh, Uh Oh, UH OH!" when something minor goes wrong. Sometimes he'll do this when something serious goes wrong and depending on the proxy he's with, they'll either smack the back of his head or join him.

★ Says "I'm gonna touch you." to Tim at least 4 times a week

#these HCs are so basic but y'all asked for them #creepypasta midnight city #creepypasta #jeff the killer #masky #ticci toby #slenderverse #marble hornets #midnight city #hoodie #creepypasta oc #Kate the chaser #eyeless jack

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rosieethor · 1 year ago

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Aromantic Books Let's Go!

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland

The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath

Black Wings Beating by Alex London

This Dark Descent by Kalyn Josephson

The Siren, the Song, and the Spy by Maggie Tokuda-Hall

Fire Becomes Her by Rosiee Thor

Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer

This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria

Immoral Code by Lillian Clark

Tarnished are the Stars by Rosiee Thor

The Last 8 by Laura Pohl

Hullmetal Girls by Emily Skrutskie

Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman

Loveless by Alice Oseman

Take Me To Your Nerdy Leader by Hailey Gonzales

Being Ace edited by Madeline Dyer

Queerly Loving edited by G Benson and Astrid Ohletz

Common Bonds edited by Claudie Arseneault, C T Callahan, and RoAnna Sylver

Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria

Godly Heathens by H. E. Edgmon

The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl

The Butterfly Assassin by Finn Longman

At the End of Everything by Marieke Nijkamp

Switchback by Danika Stone

Tell Me How It Ends by Quinton Li

Awakenings by Claudie Arsenault

Stake Sauce by RoAnna Sylver

The Ice Princess's Fair Illusion by Dove Cooper

The Threads That Bind by Cedar McCloud

Not Your backup by C. B. lee

Fallen Thorns by Harvey Oliver Baxter

Natural Outlaws and Fractured Sovereignty by S. M. Pearce

Wander the Night by Sydney Cobb

Stones Stay Silent by Danny Ride

The Story of the Hundred Promises by Neil Cochrane

Two Dark Moons by Avi Silver

The Bruising of Qilwa by Naseem Jamnia

An Accident of Stars by Foz Meadows

Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace

Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace

Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel

Syncopation by Anna Zabo

Dear Wendy by Ann Zhao

The Loudest Silence by Sydney Langford

Lord of the Empty Isles by Jules Arbeaux

Our Deadly Designs by Kalyn Josephson

The Final Curse of Ophelia Cray by Christine Calella

#aromantic #aromantic spectrum #aroace #aromantic awareness week #aromantic books #aroacebooks #queer books #lgbtqia books

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magnus-marmot · 3 months ago

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Alchemy symbolism in TMAGP 04

I low key want to write an analysis where I break down the alchemy stuff in each episode so far, but that feels like a lot of work so I'll just start with episode 4, Taking Notes. Let me know if this is in any way interesting to anyone, since I'm not doing my usual theorising or fitting it into a wider metaphysical framework.

Spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 4 but not much else.

The Magnum Opus

To me, the most notable part about this episode is the one about the narrator getting lost in the woods and encountering the stranger. Because this part reads almost exactly like the allegorical tales that alchemists used to write to explain their Great Work. It also mirrors Jung's views on individuation which draws from alchemy. Common elements in such stories include (among others):

Dissolving into a representation of chaos, abyss, or massa confusa (the nigredo stage). This can involve imagery like drowning into a dark sea, or literal death or decomposition of bodies. In this case, it's our protagonist getting lost in the dark woods. This could also be seen as his descent into the unconscious (or the mercurial sea).

Meeting a figure who imparts wisdom, often Mercurius himself. (The way Jung interpreted this in his psychology was the encountering of one's own shadow, and also integrating one's anima/animus.) Mercurius is a weird obsession for alchemists and they wrote about Mercury a lot, but the most relevant part here is that Mercurius/Hermes was the god of merchants and travelers, and that he was characterised as a trickster. Trickster is also one of the shadow archetypes Jung proposes, so it ties nicely to this too. As you may have figured out, the trickster in this story is the merchant-like figure our protagonist meets in the woods.

The hero emerges from the darkness purified, in our case with an "otherworldly" crimson violin. (And then the hero marries/eats his sister? The allegories get wild. Fortunately not here.)

The Philosopher's Stone

The violin is interesting to me, as some alchemists (especially followers of Pythagoras) considered the vibrations of music to have purifying qualities and used music in their Work. This violin, in particular, seems to evoke the Philosopher's Stone, especially with how the colour was emphasised. No matter how conflicted the accounts are, the Stone was unanimously thought to be red or crimson, with the colour coming from the (metaphorical) sun. And the violin seemingly imparts (or as the alchemists put it, "projects") its ethereal quality on the music, transmuting it into "balm for the unhealed wounds of [his] existence". Emphasis on the word balm, which was often used to refer to the medicinal properties of the Stone (or Elixir, since it took many forms).

Now coming to the blood sacrifice. The Philosopher's Stone obviously doesn't need any sacrifices, but blood was sometimes thought to have a purifying quality (perhaps derived from Christian iconography?), and it was sometimes used as symbolism for the red liquid they used for washing the matter during the Work. I interpret this to mean that the blood was needed to purify the violin's music, as the impure vibrations caused people to go into a frenzy.

It's also interesting that the impure music caused people to specifically eat each other. Devouring is recurring symbolism in alchemy. It usually symbolises either the primal instincts of humans and animals, or two opposites uniting, such as the lion and lioness (sun/moon or gold/silver) devouring each other in the final stages of the Opus to create a unity. If I were to make a conjecture here, I could reason that the impure or incomplete state of the violin demands for other manifestations of unity. But this is not based on anything that the alchemists believed (to my knowledge).

What's with the hunger?

Okay, I confess I have no actual symbolism here to draw from, mostly conjecture. But I do keep coming back to Luna (or the moon) and things associated with. The moon is associated with reflectivity (as it reflects light rather than produces it), secrecy, and the dark, unconscious desires of a human psyche. Luna governs over the brain in humans, and in alchemical texts it's often conflated with Mercury. So it stands to reason that it's also seen as a link or a mirror to the collective unconscious, often through dreams. In Jungian psychology, it corresponds to the Anima (or the feminine) archetype, which is related to emotional sensitivity and the desire to connect with others.

There are elements of secrecy, dark thoughts and desires (eg. wishing harm upon the instructor), and a deep longing to be recognised, approved of and to get out of the shadow of his undesirable family position. He has some passion for his art, but it's mostly coming from a place of reflecting other people's expectations and the emotional need to be seen. This metaphorical hunger is further reflected in the violin's hunger for blood and eventually as the quite literal hunger of the audience.

This doesn't feel like an isolated case either. There seems to be a connection in the incidents with this kind of hunger and some deep, emotional scars or unresolved feelings, which in some cases become reflected in the actual reality. But these are just some of my own thoughts. Like I said, this case has few actual prompts for lunar symbolism, aside from generic ones like the night and secrets. Just thought I'd throw it in for good measure.

#written after tmagp37 #tmagp 4 #episode analysis #alchemy #symbolism #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp spoilers

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vivaciousoceans · 1 year ago

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lovely daggers pierced my heart moons ago

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton / Cressida Cowper

Rating: T+

Warning (s): None

Word Count: 1,538

Genre: Fluff, Mild Smut (if you squint and blink)

Eloise is different from Daphne, she has softer features, darker tresses, and she's most certainly not as poised as the ’diamond’ of two seasons ago. Yet, Eloise possesses the same captivating Bridgerton blue eyes that could melt hearts in mere moments, assuming one was foolish enough to be ensnared by their allure. Once ensnared, no man nor woman could save you from yourself or the lengths to which you’ll go to keep those eyes in your life. Cressida concludes that this must be how Penelope Featherington found herself entangled in the unexpected predicament of receiving tutelage in the art of husband-hunting from none other than Colin Bridgerton. It would be quite amusing, were it not for her own precarious position—clinging to the Bridgerton in her life by any means necessary.

She’d long regretted her behavior with Daphne, and not just because the elder Bridgerton had ascended to the esteemed rank of Duchess. Once upon a time, they had been friends, a bond that now seemed to belong to another era entirely. The transition from girlhood to womanhood had created an unbridgeable chasm between their worlds, rendering their past friendship a distant, bittersweet memory.

When she’d extended a genuine offer of friendship to Eloise last season, determined to make amends, she’d been surprised by the rejection, nevertheless she tried to appear unaffected. In reality, she had pondered that moment every night until the summer, when Eloise finally decided to embrace society. Cressida couldn’t deny that she was a little disheartened at first, Eloise's spirit seemed to have been subdued by her scandal last season. She had secretly envied the younger woman, not just for her prestigious family name and connections. She wished she didn’t care so much about the tons perception of her; she wished the thought of being a spinster didn’t make the hair on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps rise along her arms. The idea of being forced to marry one of her father’s older friends made her stomach turn, and she would do almost anything to avoid that fate.

Except give up one of her most hard-won possessions, although she knows she can’t truly call Eloise hers. One day, Eloise would probably belong to a man too, just like Daphne, just like all the girls before Daphne. The ones who made her heart skip a beat, and her fingers linger just a little too long, hoping they felt what she felt. She was never surprised when they didn't.

Eloise is different from Daphne though, different from all the girls after Daphne. Eloise doesn’t want to talk about men and titles, she doesn’t worry herself with matters of imported fabrics and lace, or even the latest gossip. With Eloise, when they’re alone, she’s not a spinster, she doesn’t have to want to be a wife or a mother; the world around them is endless, and their voyages are vast.

Eloise doesn’t want her to be anyone besides Cressida Cowper, a lady of witty banter and immense intelligence. It’s comforting to finally be enough after being told for so long that she needed to be more.

Perhaps that is why she decided to abandon her sanity, to succumb to the temptations she had long resisted. Perhaps that’s why she’d decided to throw caution to the wind, interrupting Eloise’s speech with a kiss. In that fleeting moment of passion, she'd come to realize she was willing to embrace whatever consequences came her way, even if it meant risking her reputation and defying societal expectations.

Part of her moved as if in a dream, every moment heightened as she leaned in, her slender fingers gently cupping Eloise’s cheeks, noting the constellation of freckles marking the supple flesh. Cressida had every opportunity to halt, to retreat, but she continued her descent.

Another part of her moves with the swiftness of a heartbeat, her lips finding Eloise’s with a passionate tenderness, enveloped by the velvet warmth of Eloise’s lips. Every part of her senses seemed intensified, heightened by the forbidden intimacy. She could feel each delicate ridge on Eloise’s lips, could taste the lingering essence of the mint tea they had shared earlier, and could hear the subtle hitch in Eloise’s breath as it halted to a stop.

The younger woman remained motionless beneath her, her body still in the same position, mid-ramble about some novel or another. Eloise’s words always seemed to cascade together when she was truly excited, and though Cressida struggled to follow sometimes, she could never resist the enchantment of the way blush spread across the brunette’s cheeks and the way her eyes seemed to widen with passion.

Cressida knew such a defense would scarcely be believed—that she somehow swooned and fell upon Eloise’s lips.

Suddenly a surge of fear courses through her, a stark reminder that she is far too intelligent to be this reckless, to allow herself to let the comfort of friendship and the passion of lust lead her to this forbidden moment.

She attempted to pull back, to apologize for her behavior, salvage whatever remained of her reputation or even their friendship.

Her efforts are halted by Eloise's firm grip, anchoring the hand that Cressida had cupped against her face in place. Cressida's gaze drifted down to meet Eloise’s, witnessing the dilation of her pupils, the darkening of her irises, and the gentle graze of her teeth over her bottom lip, as if contemplating her next move.

Time seemed to freeze, suspended in an eternal moment, though Cressida knew only seconds had passed before Eloise acted. With a swiftness fueled by fervent urgency, Eloise initiated a kiss that far surpassed the confidence of Cressida’s own. There was no hesitation as Eloise delved into Cressida’s mouth with her tongue, sweeping across her bottom lip, eliciting a tiny gasp from Cressida's lips. Cressida pondered whether Eloise had experienced this before, whether she had kissed a man or even another woman, or if Eloise was just eager, a student in all areas of life. Such thoughts were swiftly brushed aside as Eloise’s hands began to explore, tracing down Cressida’s sides, skimming the fabric of her gown until Cressida found herself reclining on her family's settee, her head grazing the armrest in surrender to the intoxicating allure of the moment.

Eloise didn’t break away from her, her soft hands deftly navigating through layers of fabric to discover Cressida’s smooth, pale skin that had only known the touch of daylight within the confines of her bedchambers. As Eloise's warm fingers caressed her calf, gently kneading and coaxing forth a string of whimpers from her lips, Cressida found herself contemplating the sensation. Would it feel the same with a man? If his fingers were tracing the contours of her thighs, inching closer to her heat, his lips upon hers, would her entire being ignite, writhing under his touch as she did under Eloise’s? She doubts it. Questions whether anyone could reduce her agile mind to such a state of bliss as Eloise effortlessly did.

How could she return to the life society and her parents expected of her now that she had savored true euphoria? The mere thought threatened to send her into a fit of hysterics, but the sudden absence of Eloise’s lips on hers snaps her back to reality. She doesn’t have time to yearn for Eloise's presence, she feels those same lips resurface moments later, tracing a path from the corner of her lips to just under her chin, and then to that spot behind her ears that catches her off guard, eliciting a louder response than she ever intended.

It sobers her, reminding her of her surroundings, of the company she keeps. At any moment, one of her maids or even her parents could intrude upon the sitting room, catching her in a compromising situation.

Cressida gently pushed at Eloise’s shoulders, barely containing the whine threatening to escape her throat as Eloise withdrew from their intimate embrace, her gown swiftly falling back into place. She could sense the unspoken questions swirling behind the veil of lust in Eloise’s eyes, scrutinizing every inch of her being. Had Eloise always regarded her with such fervent intensity? Unable to bear the weight of the brunette’s gaze, Cressida averted her eyes and cleared her throat, her fingers smoothing out the wrinkles in her gown as she spoke.

“I shall instruct my maid to prepare my chambers for our deliberation on gowns for tonight's ball,” she declared, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions within her. Was she being presumptuous? What would Eloise think of her? What would they even do once they got to her room? So many questions, so many feelings, and yet, none of them made her want to reconsider this for even a moment.

“Very well, Miss Cowper,” Eloise murmured, her voice husky with formality and an undertone of amusement that did not escape Cressida's notice. When their eyes finally met, Cressida detected a teasing glint dancing upon Eloise’s pink lips, and in that moment, she realized that Miss Eloise Bridgerton may just be the harbinger of her downfall. Perhaps it was a hereditary trait, passed down from Bridgerton to Bridgerton—the uncanny ability to be both someone's salvation and their greatest frustration.

#teya creates #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #cressida cowper #eloise x cressida

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moonlight-prose · 11 months ago

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"buying matching jewelry, but it doesn't mean anything, right?" WITH FRITZ PLEASEEE

LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON ME

a/n: so because summer is nearing it's last month and we have limited time i wanted to go full mamma mia vibes with this one. besides the friends to lovers vibes with him and this song...perfection. it was hot all week and that spurred me to finally work on this request. so i hope you enjoy babes!

summary: being best friends with fritz meant pretending you weren't hopelessly in love. it meant conversation on the beach, and friendship rings, and the utter shock of coming to the realization that...maybe he loved you too.

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: billy 'fritz' avalone x reader

warnings: fluff, a teeny bit of angst, romance, best friends to lovers, oblivious reader + obvious fritz, talk of marriage, mamma mia vibes, he's hopelessly in love it's cute, unedited + not betad.

The ring glinted in the sunlight, gold glimmering as the ocean did when the day hit the perfect hour. When the sun was slowly creeping along the sky, making a descent towards the horizon. That wouldn't come for a few more hours, but you couldn't stop yourself from sitting on the sand, eyes trained on how waves crashed to the shore.

You couldn't hear anything over the noise - the birds squawking in the distance the loudest echo along the empty coast. Somehow you managed to catch the beach during the week. When people weren't interested because they were tired from a long work day.

It rarely happened. Maybe once in a blue moon. And you soaked in the silence of humanity—nature calling you to her with a soft smile and even softer words.

"I wondered if I'd find you here."

A familiar tug pulled at your heart as you turned, seeing a familiar figure head towards you. He still wore his flight suit, his boots sinking into the sand with each step. But that didn't deter him from plopping beside you, a cold soda in his hand. An extra handed to you.

"Mav let us go early," he said, twisting the top off and gulping enough to down half the bottle.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

He shrugged. "You're always here."

"I'm not always here."

"Sure."

"I'm not–"

The smile on his lips silenced your argument—a knowing look glimmering in his brown eyes. There was no use in fighting him. He could see your different angles coming from a mile away. Giving up now would be easiest.

With a sigh, you turned back to the beach, condensation dripping onto your dress. "I needed some time away from the bar."

You didn't have to explain anything to him. Barely even had to utter a word before your discomfort was being teased out and noticed by him. That was the thing about Fritz. He could see your emotions before they even played across your face. Yet unlike others that came before, he somehow always managed to fix it before things got too bad.

"Did you want to come to my place for dinner?"

The grin played across your lips before you could even answer. "You mean your place filled with Yale and Harvard?"

"C'mon they're not that bad." He nudged you with his knee, taking another pull from his soda. "Besides, they're gone tonight. Something about free drinks at a sports bar."

You mulled it over—the small box in your jacket pocket practically burning a hole through the fabric. "Fine. Pizza, beers, and ice cream."

"Yes ma'am."

Clambering to his feet, he helped pull you up, the sun playing across his face and illuminating the grin he wore. If you could bottle up this memory and keep it close you'd open it every day. You'd take a peek of something so perfect—as if Aphrodite herself created him—just to hold this feeling in your chest. The way he looked at you left you confused, as if he saw you in a different light than just friendship.

But you never had the guts to ask him about it. So like a coward...you continued to let it go.

"I'll order in the car."

"Wait—" You gripped his arm, tugging him back a bit as you dug in your pocket. "I got you something yesterday. They had a jewelry stand in town and saw this..."

The box was brown, small and uninteresting. Until you pulled it open. A silver band etched with vines that matched yours lay in the center. You nearly left it behind—figuring he wouldn't want to wear something so dainty—but something screamed at you the second it appeared in your line of sight. The two were paired together.

Your size and his.

As if they'd been waiting for you to find them all along.

His eyes widened, breath catching in his throat, before he picked it out of the box carefully. "A ring?"

Heat spread rapidly along your cheeks, burning straight down to your chest. "You don't have to wear it. I just thought it was pretty and matched mine and..." With a cough you turned back to see another wave crash along the shore. Suddenly that's how you felt inside. "It's dumb I know."

"No it's not." Surprised etched into your chest, your gaze snapping back to him. Just in time to see how he slipped it on his left hand, smiling when it fit perfectly. Perhaps it was always meant to be there - resting along his skin, claiming his heart for yours. "I like it. Matches my dog tags."

You laughed. "I didn't get it cause of that."

"No, I know." His smile deepened. "But that's where it's going. So it'll match."

Warmth pooled in your stomach, curling around the base of your spine as he stared at his hand. A soft grin playing on his lips. And suddenly you were breathless—flutters filling your stomach as you realized what it looked like. What the others would say once they noticed him wearing a ring on his left hand. You didn't tell him where to place it, didn't offer up a certain hand.

He did it on his own without an ounce of hesitation in his body.

He wanted it there.

When you followed him to the car, you grasped the gold band on your right hand and subtly shifted it to your left. Matching him. If he noticed he didn't question you about it. And for that...you were grateful.

Turns out you were right.

Fritz was teased—rather ruthlessly—about wearing a silver band on his ring finger. Questions rose up around base. Who did he marry? Who had they not met yet? How on Earth could Fritz of all people be hiding a secret partner?

Until you served the group at the bar and Phoenix clocked the gold band on your hand. A knowing smile curving across her lips.

Thankfully she knew how to keep your mouth shut.

The same couldn't be said about Hangman.

"Where'd you get that shiny ring darlin'?" he shouted, reaching for your hand with a shit eating smile. "Lookie here gentlemen! It matches Fritz's."

"Fuck off Hangman." You yanked your hand back with a glare, twisting back to the bar.

It's not like you didn't know this was coming. The comments, the teasing. You knew someone would notice eventually, but that isn't what left you shocked and nervous. The fact that Fritz had yet to take it off sent your mind reeling. He wore it with pride. A smile gracing his plush lips whenever someone brought it up.

You'd even heard comments of it being looped around his tags as he flew—pressed close to his chest in the cockpit of his jet.

Was he wearing it to simply show you that this is how it would be? To prove that this was a silly gift. In the hopes that you would tell him he didn't have to constantly wear it.

That thought alone filled your stomach with dread. An ache forming in the pit of your body as you watched him from across the bar. You had half a mind to go over there—tell him to give it back so Hangman would get off his ass—but he looked at ease. As if nothing could bother him when the topic of conversation fell to you.

This shouldn't bother you that much, shouldn't leave you frazzled and on edge. And you didn't think it would get any worse.

Until the phone rang on a Thursday afternoon, echoing through the empty bar. You expected someone placing an order for lunch, perhaps a reservation for a table.

Hangman's voice filtering through the receiver is what floored you—his voice low and hoarse. Like he'd been shouting for far longer than he should have. And your stomach dropped.

"He's fine. Shaken up, but fine. Told me to call you."

"W–What do you mean? What happened?"

He sighed—shaky and breathless. "Engines gave out. Had to bail."

You didn't hear the rest, a shrill high pitched ring began pulsing in your ear. The words hit the ground hard and asked for you were all you could process before the phone was slamming back onto the base and you were running to the car.

Your breath was short, eyes dazed, but all that mattered was him. The image of him laying in the middle of a valley hurt tore you in half. So you slammed your foot on the gas, speeding through the streets without care.

An explanation would have to be given to Penny when she returned. You made a note to apologize later, but the airbase was in sight and you could see Hangman waiting by the front gate—a stern expression replacing his usual egotistical grin. That seemed to scare you more than what he said on the phone.

He waved you through, jogging to where you threw your car into park. Half out of the spot and crooked. None of that fucking mattered. None of it was real, because somewhere Fritz was hurt and the panic had started to eat you alive.

"Where is he?" you gasped, leaping out of the car. "What the fuck happened?"

His hands grasped your shoulders. "He's fine. Mav is making him sit on base until things level out. He's gotta see the doctor before heading home."

"Fuck," you breathed, tears pricking your eyes. "Can I–I see him? Will they let me on–"

He nodded, already leading you towards the familiar hangar. "Why do you think I'm here sweetheart? Mav had me wait for you to arrive."

On shaky legs, you did what he said when he said it. You flashed your I.D. to someone, said a monotone hello, and let Hangman take the front. A runway was to the left of you—jets lined up on the far side—but that's not what caught your attention.

The sight of a hunched over figure on a metal chair towards the front leveled the ground beneath you. The air suddenly rushed to your lungs as reality began to filter back.

He was okay.

"Avalone!" Hangman shouted. A head of dark hair snapped up, immediately setting his sights on you.

"Will?" you called.

A helmet dropped to the ground when he stood, rushing towards you quicker than he should have. And before Hangman could intervene, you started running. You sprinted with a speed you didn't know you had in you and met him halfway. Colliding against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist tight enough to send an ache through your ribs. That didn't register, because the pain reminded you that he was still alive—still here to hug you.

"I was so scared," you gasped, digging your face into his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes falling shut. "I heard your jet crashed and just got here as soon as possible."

"'M okay," he mumbled. "I'm alive."

A sob broke free, tears streaming down your face, but that only made him tighten his hold. His breath warm along the back of your neck. Suddenly all the worries from the past week, all the anxiety you endured about what a stupid piece of jewelry meant didn't matter to you. How could it? When you nearly lost him today.

Living without Fritz wasn't something you wanted to know. It wasn't a future you wanted to have.

"I love you," you breathed, fingers curling into his hair.

He stilled, pulling back slightly until his face was directly in front of yours—nose nudging against yours. "Finally."

"What–"

The words of disbelief vanished when he kissed you. Because his lips were just as soft as you imagined, his touch was warm, and suddenly...the world around you vanished. He kissed you with a tenderness that had always existed in your friendship. A reverence he hoped you might notice one day. This wasn't due to injuries or fear. This was the final tie being knotted together in your relationship.

He didn't wear the ring to tease you. He didn't want to prove he shouldn't wear it.

He wanted to show you why he should.

"Marry me," he mumbled against your lips, the cold press of metal along your cheek sparked heat down your spine. "I've already got the ring."

Your eyes flew open to see his smile—bright and wide. "Marry you?" you breathed.

"Tomorrow."

"Will–"

"I'll take you to the courthouse. Call your mom. I'll do whatever you want, baby."

You clutched at his shoulders, searching his eyes for any falsity—any humor—and found none. "You're serious."

With a nod, he stole another kiss. His tongue swiped along yours far too quickly for your liking. "I almost died today and the only thing I could think about was that the ring around my neck wasn't real." He pulled back. "So I want to change that."

"By marrying me." The words didn't feel real, but somehow there they were.

"If you'll let me." His smile faltered slightly, hand stilling on the back of your neck. "Will...you let me?"

"Yes," you rushed out in one breath. Your eyes wide and hands pulling him close for another kiss. One he leaned into. "Yes. I'll marry you."

He smiled, tangling his fingers in your shirt - his palm sliding along bare skin. "Tomorrow," he mumbled against your lips.

"Tomorrow," you gasped.

#listening to the mamma mia soundtrack and writing this made me tear up #i love this man so much it's ridiculous #billy fritz avalone x reader #billy fritz avalone x you #billy fritz avalone x y/n #billy fritz avalone #billy avalone x reader #fritz x reader #fritz x you #fritz x y/n #top gun maverick #my writing

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