#this is why Rune bullies him

[revvydrawsstuff]

Me working on this panel like 'sir, could you perhaps *not*?'

(The worst part is he's not even trying to be pretty here)

[ellecdc]

A Man With a Plan.1

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

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU

CW: mentions of bullying - only one description of it, but it's chill cuz James tells them to fuck off like the king he is? Descriptions of werewolf behaviour idk. Use of Y/N

Synopsis: Remus planned to never fall in love. Moony had other plans.

“Don’t you think she’s just the loveliest thing, Moons?” James spoke in reverence.

Remus needn’t move his gaze from his book to know that Lily Evans just walked into the library – so he didn’t. 

“Sure is, James.”

“Don’t be getting any ideas though.” James said as he nudged his friend. He was clearly trying to go for light and breezy, but Remus caught the nervous twinge in his voice.

“You truly have nothing to worry about, Prongs.” He muttered.

“What? Don’t like birds?” James asked, though he was still watching Lily make her way over to her friends.

“Who doesn’t like birds?” Sirius questioned as he appeared out of nowhere, swatting Remus’ feet off a neighbouring chair and taking the seat for himself.

“Remus, apparently.” Peter answered from behind his book.

Remus finally lowered his book to regard his friends. “That is not what I said.”

“He said he doesn’t like Lily.” James told Sirius, finally turning his attention away from this girl to look at his mate like can you believe this guy?

“I literally just said I agreed that she was lovely.” Remus guffawed.

“If you think she’s so lovely, why don’t you go ask her out then?” Sirius asked with a smirk, causing James to let out a strangled groan. 

“What! No, common that’s like, against the bro code. Oh! Hi Y/N!” James cut himself off as he spotted you entering the library.

“Hello, James.” You greeted serenely as you started towards him. “What has your aura so pink today?”

This caused both Sirius and Remus’ eyebrows to cock, though neither of them interrupted yours and James’ interaction. 

“We were just talking about how lovely Lily is.” James answered solemnly.

“Yes, I suppose that would do it.” You answered as you turned to follow James’ gaze. 

“It’s funny, her aura turns the same colour when she looks at you. I wonder what that could mean.” You said softly, completely missing the way James’ head reared back.

“Well, I must be off. I’ve been trying to check out a book all week, but each time I’ve come to the library I’ve ended up distracted trying to clear the nargles from the shelves. The library is just full of them!” 

Your voice was feather light as you bid a simple goodbye to James who returned it with an easy smile before you floated away.

James turned from your retreating form to see the bemused faces of his friends, sans Peter who still hadn’t raised his head from his book.

“What was that?” Sirius finally asked.

“What was what?” James asked as he furrowed his brows. “Y/N?”

“Since when are you friends with her?” Sirius continued.

“We have care of magical creatures together. She’s tutoring me, actually. She’s really quite nice.” James said as he picked up his own forgotten textbook.

Sirius, still not able to let it go, added, “She’s an odd little bird, isn’t she?” 

James only shook his head. “She’s harmless. People give her a harder time than she deserves.” 

“Perhaps...” Remus acquiesced. “But what the hell is a nargle?” 

“Oh, not a clue.” James answered simply before beginning to work on his Ancient Runes translation.

Remus and Sirius exchanged one more look before moving to their own homework.

It’s not that Remus didn’t know who you were – Hogwarts wasn’t a big enough school to not know the other students in your own year – but there had never been any interactions between your circles of friends. Namely, Remus’ friends and whoever you happened to hang out with never seemed to intertwine. Remus had to assume you had friends – even he had friends, and he was a monster – but he had no idea who they could be. 

Remus had to admit you were a cute little thing, if a little odd as Sirius said. James could be a lot of things, but he always saw the best in people; so, it really shouldn’t have surprised Remus that James had made a friend of you. 

What Remus didn’t yet know was what your newfound friendship with James would mean for him.

“So, what do we think? Does Lily here have some competition?” Marlene joked with a wicked grin as she threw her arm across Lily’s shoulders at the Gryffindor table.

“Competition for what?” Sirius asked around a mouthful of eggs from his spot across from Peter and Remus.

“James, of course.” Dorcas clarified.

Lily groaned. “I was never competing.”

“I mean, who needs tutoring in care of magical creatures? Don’t you just like, show up and feed them? Seems like a ruse to me.” Mary chuckled from her place.

Peter leaned into Remus before adding. “Does seem a little weird that James needs help in care of magical creatures, seeing as that’s exactly what he does once a month.”

Remus nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure. Apparently, he hadn't regained it quickly enough. 

“What’s so funny over there?” Lily asked as she narrowed her teasing-filled eyes at the two offending boys.

“Nothing at all, Evans. But trust me when I say you have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to the future Mr. Evans-Potter.” He responded easily. All the mirth left Lily’s face as she turned her gaze towards her breakfast, but both Peter and Remus noticed the faint blush dusting her cheeks. 

It was surprising to all, although not surprising at all (I mean, come on, James has been at this for seven years – it was bound to come about eventually), that Lily was slowly beginning to warm up to James’ advances. It probably helped that they were head girl and boy this year, it also probably helped that James was less annoying about it and far more polite with his advances, and it also probably helped that the rest of Lily’s friends really quite liked James. 

As if summoned, James accompanied by Lily’s competition, entered the Great Hall together. 

“I’d really like that, Y/N. Thank you!” James could be heard saying as the two of you approached his friends.

“It’s really no problem, James. I’m sure they’d love to have more visitors.” You responded softly. Remus noticed your smile was just as soft as your voice; he thought it was lovely. 

What the fuck? Stop thinking people are lovely, you git. He scolded himself immediately. 

“Who’s this little birdie introducing you to, Prongsie?” Sirius asked as he shot a salacious wink your way.

You furrowed your brows at him in confusion.

“Birdie?” You asked James softly. He smiled kindly as he turned to you. “A nickname, Y/N. The way Sirius just said it could be taken as a compliment.” 

“Or an insult if you don’t appreciate such brazen flirting.” Dorcas added which earned her an elbow to the ribs from said flirt. 

“Anyway,” James interjected, looking towards you somewhat awkwardly. “Y/N here was helping me study facts about thestrals when she told me she has befriended a wild herd not far from Hogwarts. She said she’d take me to meet them.”

“Meet thestrals? Can you even see thestrals, Prongsie?” Sirius asked inquisitively. 

“There are other ways to enjoy the presence of beings without being able to see them.” You offered simply, your tone remaining nothing but kind even as you corrected him. Remus couldn’t help but smile at you.

Stop smiling, dumbass. He mentally berated himself.

“Quite right. I’d like to try feeding them and petting them.” James said with a level of finality. “If you think they’ll let me.” He added hastily as he turned to you.

You offered the git a soft smile and patted his arm placatingly. “I’m sure they will, James. In fact, I think your voice might be the perfect hertz; the thestrals will love your lower tones.”   

The majority of the group just furrowed their brows at you, but Marlene began to cackle. 

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She said as she wiped a non-existent tear from below her eyes.

James’ eyes turned stormy as he locked his gaze on Marlene, but his voice remained somewhat relaxed as he addressed you. “Thanks again, Y/N. I’ll see you in class.” 

You smiled politely at him before making your way over to your house table.

“How ironic is it that such a ditz was sorted into the house that values learning, wisdom, wit, and intellect.” She snorted, either missing James’ glare or ignoring it entirely. 

“Marlene, I love you, you’re one of my best friends, we grew up together, you’re my sister from another mister, I would die for you.” he started, making sure she was looking at him before proceeding. “Do not make fun of my friends.”

Remus was certain his eyebrows had flown right off his forehead as he exchanged a look with his friends. Sirius and Peter seemed to be in agreement that they’d never seen James so stern as he sat down beside Sirius and started filling his plate. Unbeknownst to the boys, Lily was looking at James with a small smirk a look of respect from her end of the bench. 

“So, boys,” James began, “I was thinking, for our next brilliant prank...”

And just like that, James was back to planning pranks with the Marauders as if he hadn’t just blown the entire Gryffindor table’s minds. 

The rest of the month went about the same; you and James could be found around the castle together, which Sirius was more than happy to take the piss about, and none of James’ friends made fun of you anymore - genuinely fearing James’ wrath ever since he hexed some Hufflepuffs who made a passing comment about you one day. 

Remus didn’t think you noticed any of it, however; at least it didn’t appear that way. He found that quite remarkable. He found you quite remarkable.

He hated that. 

It’s not that Remus was a prude, but he didn’t like liking you. It made him feel icky – out of control, like he didn’t have a say in any of it. Casual hookups were much more easy and comfortable for him, it was easy to roll over the next morning, say thanks, and carry on like nothing.

But just sharing a small nod of acknowledgment with you made him giddy. 

He hated that.

He certainly hadn’t agreed to liking you – he had rules. Rules like – having sex with someone was fine, having feelings for someone was not. And he didn’t want to have sex with you!

Okay, that’s not necessarily true.

He didn’t not want to have sex with you, but that’s not what drew him to you. You seemed ethereal; otherworldly; perhaps a touch too pure.

Certainly, too pure for a werewolf.

Which is why he had rules in the first place; he would not allow someone to get tangled up in his curse of a life, to suffer through loving someone as awful as him. It was painful enough being Remus, he wasn’t going to curse someone to loving him. 

So, Remus made a plan: he would ignore this friendship between you and James and pretend like you didn’t exist, only being as polite as humanly possible to stay within James’ good graces. 

That plan was fucked to shit in potions. 

The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff 7th year class was finishing up as the Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s entered for their own class. Remus inwardly sighed as he spotted you across the room heading for the ingredient supply cupboard. Remus sighed again when some of your fellow housemates chuckled watching you struggle to carry the many ingredients on your own, none of which offered to help. 

“Oh! Are you headed to the supply closet? Mind taking these too?” A snarky little witch (Remus replaced that W with a B in his mind) said as she placed another vial on top of your load without waiting for your response. 

Remus had to give you credit, however, as all you did was smile kindly as you reconfigured the many vials and jars in your arms. 

Remus sighed outwardly, and loudly, as he made his way to follow you into the supply closet.

“Here, let me help you with that.” He muttered somewhat petulantly like he hadn't just volunteered his help unprompted as he relieved you of some vials and jars.

You looked at him with a face of surprise which quickly morphed into one of gratitude. Remus loved hated it.

“Thank you, Remus. That’s very kind of you.” You all but sung to him. Your voice sounded like angels. Fuck. 

Remus scoffed. “Not quite as nice as you, cleaning up for everyone else.” He muttered somewhat darkly.

You bobbed your head back-and-forth noncommittally. “Oh, I don’t mind so much. They do plenty for me in return.”

He turned to you, genuinely interested to hear what exactly those knob heads ever did for you. “Like what?”

You smiled to yourself as you continued placing ingredients in their rightful homes. “Well, they’re always keeping me on my toes by hiding my things around the castle. They must know how much I enjoy a good treasure hunt.”

Remus’ hand stopped in midair as he watched you continue to work. Did he hear you right? Did you actually believe these people were being kind? Did you think of those people as your friends?

“Or perhaps they don’t know that. Then in that case, I suppose the joke would be on them.” You said plainly as you turned your attention back to Remus, offering him a slightly pursed smile – like you were trying to hide the full extent of your joy at the thought, though the dimple that appeared on your left cheek gave you away.

It actually surprised a bark of laughter from him as he forced his hand to resume its task. “I suppose so.” He concurred. 

Remus heard a small tinkling sound and a gentle ‘oh’ escape your lips as a vial rolled into his foot. You both bent down to pick it up, but Remus was faster. As he went to hand you the offending vial, your fingers brushed gently.

For Remus, you may as well have set off a bomb.

Remus swore he felt every neuron in his body firing at the same time, his blood cells turned to lava and his veins turned to ice, his feet felt like they were fully rooted to the dungeon floor below him while his heart thrummed and took off in flight from his body. 

And through all of this, Moony was going feral. 

“Pack. Pack. Pack. Pack. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. MINE.”

Remus ripped his hand away from you like it burned – and in some ways it did – but the newfound space between your beings seemed to hurt even more. 

Remus’ chest was heaving, and his heart was going a mile a minute while Moony continued howling inside of his head. He could barely hear the classroom behind him through the blood rushing in his ears.

Remus could count many worst parts about this whole experience, but at this very moment, the worst part was your face.

Your head was cocked to the side like a confused cocker spaniel as your brows furrowed ever so slightly. You peered at Remus with a concerned gaze and your entire being just oozed kindness and understanding.

As if you could understand the clamoring of the 13-year-old werewolf living inside his brain screaming at him to lunge at you, bow down to you, fold you up and put you in his pocket, to crack open his ribcage and place you inside of him for eternity. What the fuck was wrong with him!?

“Are you alright, Remus?” You asked, so, so, so softly. In fact, you said it so softly that Remus was sure if Moony hadn’t just decided to dial into the exact channel of your frequency, he would have missed it completely. 

“Yes.” He breathed as he shook his head no. “No. I don’t know. I-”

You nodded sympathetically, as if Remus had said anything coherent at all. “That’s alright.”

Remus willed his lungs to take a deep breath. Because, was it really? Was it really alright? Because it sort of felt like Remus was dying; like his life was over as he knew it. 

“Ah, Miss. L/N, you should be off to your next class now, quickly. Mr. Lupin, please take your seat.” Mr. Slughorn said, poking his head briefly into the supply cupboard before retreating in much the same way.

You nodded politely at the teacher before offering Remus a smile.

“Thank you again for your help, Remus.” You said gently as you moved past him to retrieve your bag before exiting the classroom. Remus Moony wanted to follow you, begged to follow you. He could still smell you – you were everywhere. Fuck, Remus needs to shower.

Remus leaned his head against the cool stone of the dungeon walls. “What’s happening to me?” He moaned miserably to himself.

If only he knew. 

Continue to chapter two here.

Taglist: @hanniejji

[am-i-interrupting]

Across the River | Viktor x Jinx’s Older Sibling

Chapter 4 | Sleepy Studies

Summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

“What is your sister like?” Viktor asked during one late night.

“Why?”

“Simply curious. I was an only child.”

“Okay,” Jinx said slowly, looking Viktor up and down. “Well, they’re like. . . Geez, I don’t know. I mean, when I was little I spent waaay more time with them than with V— We’ve always been close. I don’t really know how to describe it.”

Viktor noticed her cut off and raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t question.

He tapped something Jinx wrote twice. She looked down and her lips curled up. She wiggled her pencil in her hand for a moment before she flipped it and erased what she’d written, replacing it with something else.

“Perhaps phrasing it differently will help? What is it like having siblings?” the question phrased plural on purpose.

Jinx shrugged. “I mean, you’ve got someone to look up to, I guess. Someone who’s your friend and your bully all wrapped up into one present and shoved in your hands but the wrapping paper is kind of wet which is weird because that’s not how presents are supposed to be, right? It’s kind of off putting because it’s kind of gross. Then you open it up and look at the box and the box is weird too. It’s like purple instead of brown. And then when you finally open the box, it’s like all your insecurities are there in the shadows and then you put it in the light and boom! Unconditional love that you definitely don’t deserve but it’s hidden because of insults and petty drama.”

A pause.

Viktor blinked once, twice.

Jinx looked him up and down.

“Does that make sense?”

“None at all.”

“Oh.”

She was quiet for a moment. She looked off into the space before her. Unmoving, slightly unnerving.

She sniffed. She shrugged. She bounced back, leaning into his personal space. “Welp! That’s the best I got.”

Viktor shook his head with a bemused slight quirk to his lips. “Alright, so,” he began, pointing at some of the runes.

The rest of the night passed by until it was closer to early morning. Viktor stretched his arms out behind his back. Jinx was standing, leaning her back against the table, bending backwards. She’d taken out her pins that held her bun in place and long braids pooled on the table, one even hanging off.

“Do you think that trees cry when they’re cut down?” Jinx asked. “That they know they’re going to die?”

“And I will take that as our sign to call it,” Viktor said.

Jinx gave an over exaggerated groan in reply but Viktor could tell by the way she was twirling the end of one of her braids and occasionally hitting her face with it, she was feeling the pull of sleep begin to tug.

She tilted her hips towards the table and moved her leg. In one fluid motion she was upright. Then she almost fell. Quickly she righted herself and shot Viktor a giant smile.

Viktor grabbed his crutch. He situated it beneath his arm and curled his fingers around the handle.

Jinx let her body weight all go to one foot as she kept the door open. The only thing which prevented her from falling was her hold on the doorknob.

When he walked through, she followed him.

“Ow! Shit!” she yelled.

Viktor’s head whipped back and her braid had gotten caught between the doors. She jerked the door open and yanked her braid out of the way. It hit his leg and the door closed.

“I see why you keep your hair up,” Viktor said.

Jinx scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I like my braids being down, even when they do get caught on things.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“Because, they keep me grounded. Without their weight I feel like my head is floating away from me,” she said.

“Then why don’t you wear them down?” he questioned.

“Stupid Upper City people,” she muttered under her breath. “They think it’s ‘unhygienic’ because they drag on the floor. Yeah, they do and guess what! I clean them every day. They don’t even drag on the floor unless I’m hunched over.”

“I didn’t think you the type to let others people’s opinions bother you,” Viktor told her.

“I don’t! Normally. It’s just doing all these things and following all these stupid fucking rules is how I got here,” she said with a pointed gesture at the academy floors. “I can’t lose that now. Sis worked too hard to get me here.”

Viktor could empathize with the struggle. Being not only from the Undercity but also disabled prevented an entire load of problems up here. He’d take them though, over the polluted air. At least here he could breathe.

Viktor held the door open for Jinx. He waited until she was a decent bit away before letting the door fall closed.

“Let me haul you a taxi,” Viktor said, worried for the girl in her tired state.

She shrugged but didn’t fight him.

They sat in the backseat of the taxi. Jinx’s braids pooled in the floor.

She scooted closer to him. She slowly pushed her hand between his arm and torso until he tentatively let her wrap their arms together. Her head immediately plopped down on his shoulder. He tensed.

“I don’t even get to do my building anymore up here,” she said as she nuzzled her face against his shoulder.

“Building?” he asked as he forced his body to relax.

“Yeah, before we came up here, I used to build all sorts of gadgets. I mean, I still do but I can’t do it as often. I can’t even find a place to test my bombs and since the Industrialist took over the Undercity, we don’t go down there much. Just on special occasions.”

“You build bombs?”

Jinx laughed a bit. “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and sank against him. “Smoke bombs—“ internally he sighed in relief— “real bombs, guns.”

“Huh,” was all he could say.

The rest of the ride was relatively silent. That is until Jinx started snoring and some drool seeped through his shirt. He didn’t make any attempt to move her though.

The automobile came to a halt. With a quick word to the driver and careful movement, he slipped out. He walked into the apartment building and knocked the door labeled 07.

A couple long moments passed. He raised his hand to knock again as it but it jerked open.

“The fuck do you want at one in the— Oh, it’s you. Hi,” you said as you processed who exactly stood in front of you.

Viktor felt his stomach do the smallest twist. Your hair was a mess. Your shorts were hanging off one hip and up too high on the other. A strap of the tank top you wore was twisted.

“Jinx is asleep in a taxi. I would bring her in myself but ah,” he gestured with his crutch.

“Oh, yeah,” you said as you walked out of the threshold of the apartment. “She sleeps like the dead.”

You yawned as you walked with him to the taxi.

Jinx’s head was lulled forward. Her chin touched her clavicle but still she snored on.

You crawled a bit into the automobile and put your hands beneath her legs and her back. You pulled her closer to you until you could heave her up in your arms. Her head bobbled and smacked you in the chin. She just groaned and used her hand to push your face away.

“Ow,” you said in a monotoned voice. “Anyway, thanks for getting her home.”

“Of course, it was my pleasure. Do you need me to open the door for you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Inside you put Jinx to bed. You slipped off her shoes, pulled her vest down her arms, undid her belt. You undid the buttons of her shirt and slid on an oversized one before slipping off her button up and pulling off her pants.

She pulled the blanket around her and face planted in her pillow.

“Thanks, sis,” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said.

Still, you moved her face so she wouldn’t suffocate on her pillow and brushed her bangs out of her face. You placed a kiss right above her brow.

Then you grabbed your own covers to wrap yourself in and laid back on the couch where you’d been, wondering why you felt all warm inside by the man who kept caring for your sister with you.

[muiitoloko]

Hi, first of anything I love and ate up every single thing you wrote. That said I NEED a story where Sev is about to be a dad, they are both in the last week of pregnancy just waiting for the moment the little girl (why do we all see him as a baby girl dad tho?) and he's just reflexive on how his life is right now after suffering so much and thinking he would die alone. If you want to add the birth and baby birth that's even better 💔 thanks.

Title: The Twin Stars in Snape's World

Summary: Severus's world shifts entirely with the birth of his daughters, filling the shadows of his past with light and love that he never thought he’d experience.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: It’s not exactly what you asked for, but I was already working on a third chapter for my fanfic Daddy Snape's Dilemma, and your request totally nudged me to finish it up and post it! Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

The final week of your pregnancy arrived, and Severus Snape was, without a doubt, more nervous than you had ever seen him. Over the past months, his protectiveness had gradually intensified, but now, as you neared the end, it had reached an almost comical extreme. He refused to let you out of his sight, shadowing your every move with the intensity of a hawk, his tall, lean figure looming close no matter where you went.

At Hogwarts, his vigilance took on a new form. Snape had all but bullied Dumbledore into hiring a temporary teacher to cover your Ancient Runes classes. You could tell Dumbledore found the whole thing rather amusing, indulging Snape’s demands with a patient, almost fatherly tolerance. As for Snape, there was no humor in it—his determination was fueled by what seemed to be genuine, bone-deep fear.

Instead of teaching, you were relegated to a bedroom at the back of the Potions classroom, with Snape popping in between his own lessons to check on you. You had never seen him so anxious, his usual stoic facade cracking more with each passing day. He would pace outside your quarters, shoulders tense, the dark circles under his eyes deepening. Despite his best efforts to hide it, he was deeply stressed, behaving as if he were the one about to give birth.

You noticed that this worry manifested in another unexpected way: the matter of naming your daughters. Every day he would bring you lists, scrolls of parchment filled with options he had painstakingly compiled, poring over the names with the same scrutiny he’d apply to brewing a delicate, dangerous potion. Each name had to be perfect, meaningful, and worthy.

He had presented you with everything from mythological names to obscure, poetic words he’d found in ancient texts. You, however, had a different approach. “Severus,” you said one evening as he handed you yet another list, his expression serious, “I know you want to have everything planned, but… we’ll know their names when we see them. Don’t you think?”

Snape’s gaze turned sharp, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as if the suggestion was almost sacrilegious. “And what if we don’t?” he retorted, his voice low and pointed. “What if we look at them and realize we’ve failed to give them names that reflect who they are meant to be?”

You bit back a smile, reaching out to touch his hand, feeling the tension radiate from his slender, calloused fingers. “Severus, we won’t fail them just because we haven’t decided on names yet. They’re our daughters—they’ll be extraordinary no matter what we call them.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as he looked down at you, the intensity in his gaze softening. “I’m merely trying to… prepare. It is my responsibility as their father to see to it that they have everything they need—even a name that will protect them from the start.”

His protectiveness tugged at your heart, and you squeezed his hand. “You’re already giving them everything they need, Severus. They’ll have you.”

Snape’s expression shifted, a rare vulnerability flickering across his angular face, though he quickly hid it. “Yes, well…” he muttered, glancing away. “I still believe we should at least shortlist a few options.”

Over the next few days, you managed to narrow down the lists together, though every time you thought you’d settled on something, he’d return with yet another alternative he deemed equally worthy. It became almost endearing, watching him struggle with his need for control over something as uncontrollable as birth.

You chuckled one evening, teasing him, “You do realize, Severus, that the girls might decide their names for us? They could arrive and look nothing like any of these.”

His frown deepened, though a hint of amusement flickered in his dark eyes. “They will look like you,” he replied, his voice almost possessive, as though that was an immutable fact. “And if they resemble you, then any name I choose will be worthy.”

In the quiet moments, you could see past his impatience, his need for everything to be just so. He was terrified. The great, imposing Severus Snape, who had faced dangers most wizards could scarcely imagine, was terrified of this unknown journey. And though he hid it behind his meticulous planning, his anxiety was evident in every line he wrote, every name he researched.

One night, as he sat beside you, poring over yet another scroll, you couldn’t help but place your hand over his, stilling his movements. “Severus,” you said softly, your voice gentle, “it’s all right to be scared.”

He didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t meet your eyes, his jaw tight. “I am not afraid,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction. His voice was softer, almost strained. “I simply… cannot afford any mistakes. Not with them. Not with you.”

You placed a hand on your belly, feeling a gentle kick as if one of the babies could sense his unease. You guided his hand to the spot, letting him feel the movement.

“They’re already telling us they’re fine,” you whispered, smiling as his eyes softened, a faint blush creeping up his pale cheeks. “And you’re going to be an incredible father.”

For a brief moment, the tension melted from his face, replaced by a rare, unguarded expression. He watched you, his hand lingering on your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles over the spot where he’d felt the kick.

“Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice filled with a strange mixture of awe and dread. “I don’t know if I’m prepared for this.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, your heart swelling with love for this man who had, against all odds, become so much more than you’d ever dreamed possible. “You’ll be ready, Severus,” you assured him, your voice full of conviction. “They’re already lucky to have you.”

In that moment, as he held you close, his face buried in your shoulder, you knew that no matter what names were chosen, no matter how unprepared he felt, your daughters would be loved beyond measure. And for Severus, that was the truest magic of all.

Snape sat at his desk, his gaze flickering over the rows of students carefully attempting the day’s potion. A faint curl of distaste tugged at his lips as he caught sight of Potter, who, as usual, seemed perilously close to ruining his cauldron’s contents. Snape had already reprimanded him once that morning, his words slicing through the dungeon air with the sharpness he reserved for the boy. Yet now, as he sat in silence, the other students barely daring to breathe, his attention drifted elsewhere, pulled toward thoughts far removed from the dungeons of Hogwarts.

Just behind him, a faint rustle and creak filtered through the door to your shared quarters. The faint sounds of movement as you stirred from sleep. A warmth crept into his chest, breaking through the stoic shell he maintained with such precision.

As his gaze returned to the students before him, he felt the familiar, bittersweet pang of Lily’s memory—his first love, and his greatest regret. For so long, her shadow had been his constant companion, filling him with a cold, unrelenting ache. Protecting her son had become his purpose, his penance. And after her death, he had accepted that this mission would likely be the only meaning his life would ever have. There had been a time when he thought he might die carrying it out—perhaps even hoped for it.

But then you had entered his life.

A sigh escaped his lips, almost inaudible beneath the simmering of potions and the scratch of quills. The world had shifted when you came into it, and now, with the prospect of your daughters’ arrival in only three days, he felt that shift more acutely than ever. A sense of purpose, something wholly separate from his debt to Lily, had taken root within him.

You had given him a reason to live that went beyond atonement. The life growing within you, two delicate lives entwined with his own, felt like a redemption he had never believed possible. For the first time, he could imagine a future not defined by sacrifice and solitude, but by something richer, something gentler.

Snape’s hand tightened briefly around the edge of his desk, and he watched his students, their heads bent over their cauldrons, oblivious to his thoughts. He had spent years mastering his emotions, transforming them into weapons, shields, armor against the outside world. But now, he realized that he could no longer afford to wield that armor so thoughtlessly.

These children, his daughters—they would be born into a world fractured by war, a world where he had a role to play in the coming darkness. Yet for them, he could not allow himself the luxury of despair or surrender. For the first time, he couldn’t imagine simply fading away into the shadows after Voldemort’s defeat. It was no longer an option to leave this life without knowing that his daughters would grow up strong, safe, and surrounded by the kind of love he had never known.

As the thought took root, Snape’s jaw tightened, a new resolve settling over him like a cloak. He would survive this war. He would survive, not because of some duty to the past, but because of a responsibility to the future—to his family. He would see his daughters grow up; he would teach them, protect them, stand by their side as they learned about the world and perhaps even found their own places in it.

For once, the prospect of living beyond the war held something other than pain. A faint vision of two young girls, with bright eyes and curious minds, drifted through his mind. His daughters, growing up, asking questions about the stars, about potions, perhaps even about love. And you—by his side, guiding them with the warmth he could only hope to echo.

The shrill sound of a student’s cauldron hissing sharply brought him back to the present. He narrowed his eyes at the offending student, who paled under his glare and quickly adjusted the heat, stammering an apology. Snape stood up abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing as he prepared to address the room. But before he could say a word, a loud crash echoed through the dungeons as the door to his quarters burst open.

He whipped around, dark eyes narrowing, but whatever sharp retort had been on his lips vanished as he took in the sight before him.

There you stood, gripping the doorway, your face flushed, one hand braced against your lower back and the other cradling your rounded belly. The look on your face was equal parts determination and alarm, but it was the words that followed that sent his heart racing.

“It’s happening,” you gasped, your voice shaky but clear.

For a moment, Snape stood frozen, your words echoing in his mind, the meaning of them almost surreal. Happening? He glanced down, his mind racing. Surely not—

His thoughts halted abruptly as Ron Weasley’s voice, loud and tactless, filled the silence. “Why’s she peeing herself in front of everyone?”

Hermione’s horrified gasp quickly followed, and she smacked him on the arm, whispering furiously, “She’s not peeing herself, Ron! Her water’s broken! She’s giving birth!”

That was all it took to snap Snape out of his stunned stupor. The babies were coming—now. Much earlier than planned. His eyes widened, and he lunged from behind his desk, moving to your side in an instant, his usual composure nowhere in sight.

“Merlin,” he muttered under his breath, one hand hovering awkwardly near you, unsure whether to support you or hold back in case he only made things worse. “You… you’re sure?” he stammered, though he immediately realized how absurd that question was.

You managed a small, pained laugh. “Quite sure, Severus.”

His mind raced as he attempted to regain his bearings. The portkey to St. Mungo’s—they’d had it prepared weeks ago, but it had seemed more like an overcautious precaution at the time. Now, with the urgency of the situation hitting him, he felt his calm shatter.

He shot a look around the classroom, and his gaze landed on the nearest student—Hermione Granger, who was watching with wide eyes, clearly understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Miss Granger,” he barked, his voice laced with barely concealed panic, “fetch Professor McGonagall. Tell her to cover this class immediately.”

Hermione jumped to her feet, nodding fervently as she dashed from the room, her own nervous energy amplifying the urgency. Meanwhile, Snape turned back to you, his heart racing as he tried to mask his worry.

“Severus,” you breathed, clutching his arm. “The portkey—”

He nodded quickly, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yes, of course.” His hand moved to his robes, fingers fumbling as he retrieved the small, inconspicuous glass vial enchanted to transport you both directly to St. Mungo’s.

He held the vial up to you, and you grabbed it, your other hand gripping his arm tightly as the room around you vanished in a whirl of colors. The bustling noise of Hogwarts faded, replaced by the sterile quiet of the St. Mungo’s ward as you both landed in the reception area, nearly stumbling from the sudden shift in location.

A Healer rushed toward you both, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “Mrs. Snape—oh my, it’s early!” she exclaimed, gesturing to an available stretcher as she signaled to her colleagues. “Let’s get you to a delivery room.”

Snape’s hands hovered near you, his face a mixture of worry and focus as he helped you onto the stretcher. As the Healers moved you down the hallway, he kept pace beside you, his long strides easily matching their quick pace. He reached out to take your hand, gripping it tightly as you squeezed back, the intensity of the contractions beginning to set in.

“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, his deep voice steadier than he felt. “Just breathe.”

A faint smile crossed your face despite the pain. “Severus Snape, giving breathing advice. Now I’ve seen everything.”

He quirked an eyebrow, though his expression softened. “Mock me all you like, but keep breathing.”

The Healers moved efficiently, ushering you into the delivery room and setting you up as Snape hovered close, his dark gaze flicking anxiously between you and the medical staff. He could feel the old fear surfacing—the fear of the unknown, the helplessness of standing by while others took over. But your hand in his grounded him, your presence reminding him that he was exactly where he needed to be.

A Healer turned to him, her expression calm and reassuring. “It may take a few hours, Professor. These things are rarely quick, and with twins…”

Snape’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, settling into a chair beside you, his hand never leaving yours.

Hours passed, though they felt like mere minutes to him. He was acutely aware of every moment—the sound of your breathing, the tightening of your grip during contractions, the reassuring words from the Healers. He remained silent, his face a mask of concentration, his own discomfort forgotten in his focus on you.

The hours stretched, each contraction increasing the tension in the room. Severus remained by your side, his hand firmly gripping yours, his dark eyes watching every move the Healers made with suspicion. But the moment the lead Healer suggested you get up and walk to help progress the labor, his calm snapped.

“Walk?” His voice, usually controlled and low, rose sharply, filled with uncharacteristic alarm. “You expect her to walk in this state? Are you out of your minds?”

The Healer, a kindly-looking witch with graying hair, gave Severus a reassuring smile, accustomed to nervous fathers. “Professor Snape,” she began gently, “encouraging movement can help speed things along. It’s quite common, especially with twins.”

Severus’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his face paling even more. “Common?” he echoed incredulously, his gaze darting from you to the Healer. “My wife is in labor, Madam, with twins, and you want her to walk about like she’s merely out for a stroll?”

Despite the contractions, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his outburst. “Severus,” you managed between breaths, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “It’s fine. I can walk a little.”

He looked at you, his dark eyes wide with concern, clearly torn. The thought of you enduring even the smallest discomfort was driving him nearly mad. “If—if you’re certain…” he muttered, though his grip on your arm was firm as he helped you out of bed, as if preparing to catch you at the slightest misstep.

The Healer guided you both down the hall for a short, careful walk, Severus muttering under his breath with every step, shooting fierce looks at any Healer who dared suggest you keep moving. When you paused, wincing as another contraction hit, he practically growled at the Healer. “If there’s any risk to my wife or our daughters…” He let the threat linger, his face a mask of furious protectiveness.

Finally, you were able to return to the bed, and though the labor continued slowly, Severus remained at your side, holding your hand and murmuring soft reassurances. His fingers trembled slightly as he brushed back your hair, the love and worry in his gaze evident even as he tried to keep his composure.

It was nearly dawn when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by a cheerful voice that could only belong to Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster entered, his arms laden with trinkets, including tiny stuffed owls, a miniature cauldron, and a set of rattles that jingled softly. He looked as though he had raided the entire children’s section of Diagon Alley.

“Severus, my boy!” he called warmly, his blue eyes twinkling as he approached. “I heard there was a new arrival or two on the way. Ah, and Minerva!” He turned, gesturing as Professor McGonagall entered, a faintly amused smile on her face as she took in Severus’s tense form by your bedside.

Dumbledore began to hand out trinkets, placing the little toys on the table near your bed, each accompanied by a soft hum and a lemon drop he popped into his mouth with relish. “The finest wares from Diagon Alley,” he declared, his tone bright. “Only the best for the future Misses Snape!”

Minerva moved closer to you, her expression softening as she reached for your hand. “How are you holding up, dear?” she asked, her Scottish accent laced with warmth. “Severus here has kept us all quite informed on your progress. I daresay I’ve never seen him in such a state.”

“Nor has anyone else, I assure you,” you replied, managing a tired smile. Severus shot Minerva a look that could have melted cauldrons, though his hand never left yours.

Dumbledore continued to rummage through his collection, holding up a small toy wand that emitted a shower of harmless sparks. “I thought this might suit,” he said with a wink. “We must start their magical education early.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Healers gave the signal. Severus held your hand tightly, his face a mix of awe and terror as the final stage of labor began. You saw a single tear slip down his usually composed face, his grip tightening as he whispered, “You’re incredible. I— I am so proud of you.”

The Healers wheeled you down a quiet, dimly lit corridor, Severus’s tall, shadowy form looming beside you, never letting you out of his sight. His dark eyes, usually hardened and calculating, were softened with a mixture of awe and profound vulnerability as he took in every detail of the room being prepared for the birth of your daughters.

The faint echoes of magical murmurs from the Healers filled the room as they adjusted the equipment and spells needed. Severus moved to your side, his long, slender fingers brushing against your hand with a tentative gentleness. You could feel his nervous energy, the intense worry that he tried so desperately to mask beneath his stoic exterior.

As the contractions intensified, he bent down, his pale, angular face close to yours, his hair falling forward to shield his expression. His deep voice, usually sharp and guarded, softened as he whispered, “I’m here. You’re not alone, amore.”

The Healers instructed him to step back slightly, readying themselves for the delivery. Though he complied, his piercing gaze never left you, as if he were willing every ounce of his strength to help you through this moment.

Moments later, the room filled with a powerful, almost sacred silence as the first cry rang out—a thin, wailing sound that sent a tremor through Severus. One of the Healers approached, cradling a tiny, wriggling form swaddled in soft white fabric, and extended her towards Severus. His expression froze, and for a split second, he seemed almost paralyzed by fear.

The Healer’s voice was gentle. “Would you like to hold your daughter, Professor Snape?”

He nodded, though his hands trembled as he reached out. Carefully, she placed the baby in his arms, her tiny face peeking out from the blanket, her features so delicate and small they seemed otherworldly. Severus looked down at her, his dark eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. His usually cold demeanor melted away, replaced by an intense, overwhelming tenderness that softened every line of his face.

“She’s…” His voice faltered, thick with emotion. His eyes glistened, and he swallowed hard, blinking back tears as he took in every detail—the soft curve of her cheeks, her tiny fingers curling into fists, her miniature nose. She was perfect, and in that moment, he realized he would do anything to protect her. He bent his head, his deep voice a reverent whisper. “You’re perfect.”

Just as Severus seemed to settle into the awe of holding his daughter, your voice cut through, strained yet filled with strength as the next contraction began. He looked up, his dark gaze flickering between you and the tiny life cradled in his arms, torn between staying with his newborn daughter and being by your side.

“Severus,” you managed, breathless, a smile breaking through the exhaustion, “go on… be there for her.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a beat, his expression raw with admiration, before he gently passed the baby to a nearby Healer, ensuring she would be safe. He crossed the room quickly, his dark robes sweeping behind him as he returned to your side, his long fingers slipping back into yours. You felt his grip, firm and unyielding, grounding you, as he whispered encouragements, his voice unsteady yet filled with pride.

Minutes later, a second cry filled the room, high and clear, and you saw Severus’s shoulders tremble with relief and elation. One of the Healers brought over the second newborn, a twin as delicate and perfect as her sister, and Severus stared at her, his heart swelling in his chest.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice choked with a depth of feeling he rarely revealed. He took her into his arms, his slender fingers cradling her small head, his thumb gently tracing her cheek. His usually cold, intimidating face softened into something unrecognizable, a fierce love that lit his dark eyes with an intensity that left you breathless.

As he held her, the first Healer approached, bringing the other twin over to you, her tiny face nestled in the blanket. Your heart filled as you looked down at her, at the small, precious life you had brought into the world. In that moment, the room felt full of magic, not the kind that could be taught or brewed, but the kind that was born out of love, pure and unconditional.

Severus looked over at you, his expression softened beyond recognition, his piercing gaze filled with an almost painful tenderness as he watched you holding your daughter. For once, his stoic mask was gone, replaced by the vulnerability of a man who had finally found something worth living—and dying—for.

“They have your eyes,” you whispered, noting the dark lashes and tiny features, a hint of his unmistakable presence in them already.

He nodded, speechless, his voice catching as he tried to speak. When he finally found his words, they were barely above a whisper, his voice thick with emotion. “They’ll have your spirit… your kindness. And they’ll know they are loved.” His gaze met yours, a profound, unspoken promise shimmering in his eyes.

He reached out, his long fingers gently touching your cheek, and for the first time, you saw the walls he had so carefully built around his heart crumble, replaced by the love he had tried so hard to hide. Here, in this room, with his daughters in his arms and you by his side, Severus Snape had found his redemption. And it was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

Whoever wrote that percy jackson au of the dead boy detectives, you live under my skin and I love you. So much so that my brain tried to think of a way to make it even more canon-accurate without making them dead. or reborn Hazel Levesque style.

What I have so far is playing on the whole West civilization bit and how it moved to the.. well west - but also that World War 2 was a big three kid conflict? So. I have sort of a time-table and I'm throwing it out of the window.

Edwin is a child of Athena - that much stays the same - who is very bookish and very studious but not in the way the rest of his siblings are. They are handy and crafty, strategic and interested in architecture or design. He.. is not. (I need a reason why his siblings didn't come to help him when the "death scene" happens.)

The whole boarding school is one of many spread across the London countryside - Chiron moves a lot. They teach both ancient and modern warfare because magic or not you can't escape the bloodshed forever - you either get drafted or you run and get blacklisted somewhere or another.

(St Hilarion was actually a son of Apollo that got really popular during the Crusades - Zeus didn't smite the school when it was established because times are different and Hera would be angry if there was another big fire with no explanation that put their soldiers'- eh-hem- kids' lives at risk.)

They still teach Latin alongside Greek because it was what all normal boarding schools did and that's what they were. Maths, English, and Sciences - were all taught to the boys. The girls went to another school - where they were taught the bare minimum to survive. Because sexism was rampant and if the Romans were on the wrong side of the civil war, that means no matter how progressive the gods could have been in certain areas, they aren't now/then–

Artemis really, really hated that time period. Zoë or this version of Zoë got a kick out of shooting so many assholes in the face. Or in their dicks. They also got way more recruits than in later years. Silver lining.

Anyways: Simon - son of Hecate - and the bunch of boys, one of which was a son of Hades, do the whole let's sacrifice Edwin. Only the book is a Christian book on witchcraft that Simon truly didn't think would work. He and the rest - Hades boy included - did the whole preparation of the sacrifice as it was absolutely terrifying for Edwin to experience on top of everything else. They didn't know it was a real thing - but is the only reason why Edwin stays alive.

It's essentially a stasis charm that lets the ritual run for as long as needed without the poor victim dying beforehand. It requires bloodletting and "runes" and such. The thing is scary, traumatizing stuff so it seemed like a fun thing for Simon and his buddies to do. So they did it.

They skimmed the reading. Blood with power is spilled, ritual that is very real gets haphazardly done and so monsters get involved.

Fun fact, that I'm really hoping is actually true - sometimes monsters with names similar to other religions' occult beings pick up the summoning calls. If the ritual is shoddy enough for them to hear, the participants all die either way, it's only important who gets there first.

So. The bullies get killed and a fury-type thing drags Edwin's whole being to the fields of punishment so it can feast on its offering. He gets dusted Sally Jackson style.

We enter his hell era. ( Part 2, Part 3, TBC )

[demonbanger]

𝔇𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℑ’𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 |

ft. sex demon ! 𝗘𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗗 | 🌶 🔞 MDI

“𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣’𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡.” — E. Kid, to you

synopsis: on a lonely night you decide to get a bit buzzed and think, fuck it, why not try to summon a sex demon? Turns out to be either the biggest blessing, or biggest mistake you’ve made in a while.

♫: click for inspo song

pairing: Incubus! Kid x Fem! Reader (no physical description of reader, except hair that can be pulled)

cw: *inhales* demon summoning, bully Eustass, brat taming, blood + pain play, cunnilingus, drinking mention, predator x prey, breeding, dacryphilia, dumbification, belly bulge, overstimulation, praise + degradation, size kink af with our 6’7 king, use of pet names, insane stamina, gets softer at the end

tags: @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @nikos-a-clown @pinkcrystal-rose

© Writing & Imagery in this is my intellectual property. Do not plagiarize or repost to other platforms without my permission. Love, DemonBanger

______

You stuff your fingers in your dribbling pussy, but just could not get yourself full enough. You felt like such a horny bastard tonight, with so much sexual desperation, and finally decided you wanted to start masturbating again. But nothing worked like when you first started; you’ve just been single for too long and miss the feeling of real cock.

Even a dildo couldn’t do the trick anymore. You needed the real thing, with pumping veins and harsh thrusts, attached to a heavy man that pressed you into the mattress, with low grunts and dirty words moaned lowly into your ear.

You sigh in frustration and set the toys down, taking a swig out of some whiskey to let it take over more of your senses. The liquor burns so beautifully going down your throat…too bad there wasn’t another hot liquid also sinking down your oral cavity.

The familiar floaty headspace seeps in like an old friend that you keep away at arm’s length, as your heartbeat drums in your warm chest. Buzzed you feels like a dragon waking from a slumber, with old runes in the form of dumb ideas filling your brain.

“Might as well fucking summon a sex demon at this point,” you mutter. The idea rolls over in your head for a few minutes, and the curiosity of trying something crazy and reckless like this gets more and more appealing to your buzzed brain, until eventually you think: Wait. Fuck it, what if I tried it at least? You laugh to yourself.

What would you have to lose anyways? Just your soul? You don’t even feel like you have one these days until you drink good old caffeine.

You tap the safari icon on your phone, to research how one would even go about summoning an incubus, and take another swig to invite the madness more.

A few forums say the same thing. People asking if you actually want to invite such a thing into your life, some dude talking about how his wife cheated on him with one of those entities and was never the same after that. Hahah…cuck.

You scoff. You have existential crises every day, no sex demon can fuck your life up like you feel you can. Demons, where you at? It’s ya boi. You think about the meme and cackle way too hard for something so unfunny and possibly life-threatening.

Then you scroll over a comment that is long with a lot of upvotes on it. It looks serious. Seems legitimate. There are no comments underneath, but it reads like a serious spell book.

Eh, why not? You laugh again. The comment warned against masturbating beforehand to make sure your sexual energy was at its peak to really invite any sexual spirits. Welp, already fucked that up, so if this doesn’t work at least you could have something fun to do and then tire yourself out and call it a night.

Then you read how it involves extracting blood from a few…sources such as the tongue and pussy and you wonder if there’s a better way. A paper cut on any of those things sounds gross. Eek.

You look over YouTube and find the first video that pops up. The speaker sounds experienced, and says that it’s much simpler than any methods. Just make a request to the demon Asmodeus by reaching a meditative state, and adamantly focusing on his name.

Simple enough. You try and make sure your room is a little tidy, burn a couple of cutesy candles, and dress in a black spiked collar and a cute, lacey red lingerie set you got yourself a little while back. Scarlet garters hold up soft thigh highs that bring out your thighs and make your lower body look extra luscious. You take in this moment of feminine confidence. What are you? You’re a bad bitch. And what are you about do? Get fucked.

You sit prettily on your bed, take another swig of the burning drink, shake your hips in excitement, close your eyes, and make the signature meditation pose. You even put the sigil of Asmodeus on your laptop to better reach him. Look at you, doing the most. Then, you bite your lip in concentration and your buzzed brain is slow enough to focus on one thing slowly.

Asmodeus. Asmodeus. Asmodeus, are you with me? You think with intention.

Just as you thought. No answer. You continue.

Asmodeus, I know I never spoke to you in my life. I’m Y/n, I know this is silly but I don’t mind giving up some of my energy to get fucked voraciously by a demon boy. An incubus please. Is that ok?

You wait for an answer, peep at the candles. They’re just flickering normally. You try not to psych yourself into micro analyzing the movement of the little flames. Drunk you could do that all night. But you need to keep focused. Then you continue.

Hopefully it is ok, Mr. Asmodeus. I don’t know if I need to give up my blood n shit. I’m just a little drunk girl and honestly I’ve given up so much life energy to toxic exes at this point, you don’t need to warn me,, I know I’m rambling, but uh, yeah. I don’t give a fuck. But also, respectfully, make sure he wants me too. That shit’s hot. Do you even hear me at this point?

A chill up your spine stops you from thinking further. It’s such a chill that you shiver. It’s the same sensation in your nerves that you’d feel if someone ran a finger along your entire sensitive spine. Your window isn’t open.

There’s no way.

Good talk, you think. Don’t know what the fuck that was.

You sigh, keeping yourself open for answers. Maybe he’s thinking? Who knows. For a second you almost feel a little silly for getting all dressed and stuff.

Then you feel a chill up your spine, only more intense. Your hairs stand on end. It’s kind of spooky. You’re drunk though so you’re in more of a relaxed, “oh no!!! anyways” sort of mindset. But none of your windows are open and you haven’t turned on the AC all day.

You take another swig out of the bottle and your face burns. You’re sure your eyes are a bit bloodshot, face flushed. You think about what a male demon would say if he saw you. Probably something like—Put the bottle down, sweetheart.

You cackle in your mind. Sorry about that, daddy, gotta have fun.

Keep calling me that, I like it, the thought says a bit louder in your mind, purring more sexily than you’ve ever imagined a man sounding. Wait, did you make that up or are you tripping?

Dumbass.

You open your eyes again. So that was your imagination…or was it? There’s a little bit of doubt in your mind. Either way your imagination is vivid and you crack yourself up.

Damn it, you play too much, now your drunk ass can’t even tell what’s someone telepathically communicating to you and what’s you imagining someone telepathically communicating to you.

You clear your throat a little.

“Oi, am I wasting my time? Am I making this up? Give me a sign or show yourself , but don’t like scare me, or else I’m just going to sleep.” You try to speak clearly and confidently.

Your head whips around to the wall at something suddenly in your peripheral, and you notice a little area starts to glow, brighter and brighter. It’s a sigil. The same one you put on your computer moments ago. It’s very slow. Your heart feels like it’s in your fucking throat as you blink extra hard. Nope, still there. Holy fuck??

You swallow, slightly nervous besides your sense of fear being dulled down.

A gasp leaves your throat at a sudden tapping noise coming straight from the sigil. A fist punches through your wall, except not actually punching through its material. The glowing sigl must be some sort of portal. You let out a shocked squeal as the fist shakes around the air of your room. The clawed hand opens and the body attached steps out.

“The fuck was that?”

Oh lord. He’s huge. And above all else, irresistibly sexy.

The demon stands before you, towering over most of your room proudly, a wild crown of red hot hair adorning his head. The candlelight flickers wildly as he looks directly at you. His handsome features complete with sharp eyes like glowing amber surrounded by darkness, almost dragon-like. Is that…lipstick? And guyliner. Another shiver runs through you at how attracted you are to this creature from hell. You must’ve made Asmodeus laugh and scored the jackpot in return. That sharp nose.. with the pretty bumps on the side…you wonder how it would feel riding it.

He’s wearing a coat trimmed with maroon fur, that still leaves little to the imagination as his entire muscular, giant torso is bare with a sheen that accentuates carved abs, perhaps sweat because hell is hot. Black pants with chains hang low on his hips. You don’t see visible wings but are sure he can make them appear if he wanted.

Just, holy shit.

Dark maroon lips smirk. His voice is raspy, a little tired, a little indifferent, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. “So…you gonna just keep staring at me all night and get off that way, or?”

You bite your lip. He’s so fucking smug. Your pussy starts pooling more wetness than already built up.

“I-well, yeah, you just appeared through my fucking wall,” you roll your eyes, not submitting so easily. “The hell did you expect?”

The demon flashes a mouth full of beautiful, dangerous teeth.

“Pretty little minx, and a smart mouth on ya too. I guess he was right it’d be worth bothering the admiral of the legions, can’t wait to fuck the brattiness out of you.”

Black, ornate trousers that appear punk and shredded to bits sway as he steps closer to your bed.

“Oh, Careful—” you warn but one of his beautiful, tall, twisty horns hits your ceiling fan, and you find it comical how a 7 foot tall demon is cursing at hitting his left horn in your room.

His eyes squint at you. “Fucking brat. Laughing at me, not even telling me your name. I could drag a rude little mortal like you to hell and eat you alive for lack of manners,” he drawls, little to no venom in his words, his voice so deep and rich you almost get lost in it for a moment. Little does he know you want him to eat you alive.

“Oh—, I mean you’re right, sorry sir,” you spit out the sorry as sarcastically as possible, “I’m Y/n, what’s your name?”

He eyes your thighs clenching together and a mocking chuckle bubbles in his chest. “Name’s Kid. But you, little thing, can call me Eustass for tonight when I’m impaling you on my cock.”

A little whimper is forced out of you at how dirtily he spoke, like he made an incantation to turn you on instantly. “Eustass,” you try out, making precum drip out of him more than he’d like to admit. Your eyes flit down to his cock that he mentioned, then back up. He knows you were staring. And he’s so damn smug about it too, because the big guy’s bulge looks absolutely huge.

He looks over at the toys on your bed and scoffs, picking up your dildo, and eyeing it snarkily. Your face burns in indignation at his wolfish, leering smirk.

“Oh princess. Might as well throw these—“ he locates your trash bin, “right here. Because I’m gonna fucking ruin them for you. And you can kiss any man’s dick goodbye.” He drops your sex toys into the trash like a mic drop.

And you’re not even mad. Your thighs shift against the fabric of your bodysuit to gain any sort of friction, so turned on from imagining what’s to come.

“Yeah? You like that? I can just smell how much that turned you on. Such a pathetic, needy, desperate slut. You in heat or something?”

You can only nod your head.

He makes his way back to the bed, walking like he has all the time in the world, and you eye him for how beautiful and dangerous he is, oozing sex appeal. He also eyes you hungrily, like a starved carnivore eyeing its new living meal. Heat from hell radiates off of him, and he smells otherworldly; almost sweet; with notes of pure musk, steel, blood, leather, sweat, and desire.

(You don’t know that the pheromones you’re releasing have a similar effect on him, but he wants to make you beg and whimper; mewl, cry, break).

You take in shaky breaths, not because those fangs could rip chunks out of you if he wanted to…well, that’s hot too.

Kid grabs your bottle of whiskey from your mattress, eyeing you with pure hunger as he gets so close to you, and sets it on the floor. “That’s gonna break if it stays on your bed.” He dips his head closer to you, inhales again to smell your arousal, and his eyes roll shut.

“A-are we gonna have a safeword? I’m not paying any hospital bills if you break my body,” you finally speak up, voice pitch heightened from horniness.

He scoffs. “How fucking adorable, such a needy stupid baby, you didn’t even think before making a contract with someone who could do whatever he wants with you no?” the redhead strokes your thigh as he sounds so mean and condescending, large clawed hand gripping your upper leg, squeezing your supple flesh. His breathing is heavy. Fiery eyes peer down into your soul as he pauses.

“Spikes.” He feels your collar, humming in approval. “But just know, you signed up to be fucked. And drained.” His blackened thumb traces over your bottom lip as he holds your chin. “If you can’t handle the heat, you should know better than to booty call hell.”

“Mhmm,” you say, nodding in his hold, tongue darting out to caress his finger. Kid snarls.

Just like that, a large palm presses on your sternum and shoves you down onto the bed. He yanks you by the hips to the edge of the mattress with a bruising grip, and bucks his clothed hips into yours sharply, trouser-covered bulge slapping your pussy roughly, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Gonna keep your neighbors up with us all night just like this,” he growls, bucking onto you, hands tracing your hips, fingers dipping under your bodysuit to caress your soaking core.

“Wet kitty, so fucking sinful.” He pulls out his fingers, separating them and admiring how your slick strings up and drips down his hand. Then, glowing eyes gaze into yours as a long, sharp, forked tongue licks your essence up, cleaning them in one stroke. You throb. He tosses his trench coat to the floor and you admire his giant, muscular body. Thick neck you want to scratch up. Giant muscles carved of porcelain and littered with scars that you want to bite and paint even prettier. A fallen angel of vermillion, ready to stab you in the dark, drag you down in lust and weeping to your personal circle of heavenly hell.

Without another word, he dips his head down and snaps the crotch of your bodysuit open leaving you with no room to think. He flattens his large, forked tongue and licks a broad, wet stripe over your sopping cunt.

“ ‘s cunny’s mine,” he breathes, and begins his attack on you with his mouth, squeezing your thighs, large tongue teasing into you.

“Yes it’s all—, ohhhh~” He pulls out and shoves two huge fingers with painted fingernails into your entrance, stretching you out and making you arch your back from the sudden stimulation, pussy smushing into his face further. He growls again, feral in nature, the vibrations going straight to your clit as he intently watches your reactions. Wide tongue lapping at your clit, swirling, making you speak in tongues and whimper at how full you are. You do not regret summoning a demon at all.

He adds a third impossibly thick finger and scissors them in and out of you, then impatiently thrusts his tongue back in to fuck you, massaging every little nook and cranny of your textured walls. Swirling up, and up, and up until your brain rots inside your skull and you’re roughly grabbing handfuls of his hair.

You hear him groan a prideful, muffled “Good girl,” as his nose bumps into your clit so snugly. Your eyes roll back at the praise. It’s too much, all of it is too much. And yet, you need more, more, more, please, please, please. His tongue hits a tender spot that makes you jolt and begins to attack it in a full-fledged assault, causing you to snap your gaze back to him and buck your hips greedily into him.

Greedy. He likes that. He likes how greedy your cunt is, because he’s just as greedy for you. Your thighs clench around his head when he shakes his face, soaked in your juices, side to side to rub your clit with his nose pressed tightly to you. “E-Eustass!” you call out for him, all strangled, and a purr rumbles in his thick chest.

In response, he only clenches your thighs tighter around his face, continuing to torture you with his pink tongue that’s long and mobile like a fucking tentacle.

You cry out as talonesque nails dig into your thighs and little pricks of blood come out, but he doesn’t care. And neither do you. You grind on him, head swimming in lust, probably only worsening the pinprick wounds. He leans back with you and completely sits down on the floor beneath, holding the entire weight of your body on top of his face with the strength of a powerful war demon.

He slides you up and down, and you tremble, spots of white flecking your vision as you ride his face, smearing your never ending slick to his insatiable delight.

His amber eyes glare at you, urging you to let go and come undone on top of him. Yet mocking you for needing to cum so soon.

And that’s what you do, shaking violently, curling over him, death grip on his scarlet tresses, as he groans at how delicious you taste. The orgasm washes over you so hard you almost fall slack, almost, as your moans fall silent from your circuits sparking. He drinks up all the essence you have to offer, lips smacking at how delicious you are, deep “Mmmhfuck” causing your nipples to perk.

He stands back up and sets you back down on the bed, unzipping his pants.

You’re lightheaded from the most amazing orgasm of your entire life, gazing at the ceiling as static fills your brain in ocean waves of dumbified pleasure.

Then your mouth gapes open at the sight in front of you. Beautifully red pubes trail right over his giant hand, fisting the biggest cock you’ve seen.

“Ngh, t-too big,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m shocked you can speak,” he laughs darkly.

“Barely,” you try to prop yourself up on your elbows, but it’s so difficult and you fall back down.

He laughs at you, humiliating you in his stare. “Such a weak kitten,” the demon mocks you in faux sympathy.

You feel as though you nutting just now made you so insanely tired.

“Just lay back, dollface, you’re giving daddy life energy as a snack. Gonna make you even prettier, so dumb you can’t even speak.”

Before you can protest, he’s spearing you with his cockhead, ripping a loud moan from your throat.

He’s merciless, as no god has shown him, a fallen angel, any mercy. So why should he, an incubus leeching off of your sexual energy, show any mercy to a cunt that’s all his and swallows him in just right.

He continues to sink into you, and your nails pay him back by digging into him now, in his meaty forearms.

Kid’s tongue darts out over his crimson lips.

“Keep,” he thrusts out slightly, admiring the way you grip him, “fucking,” he thrusts back in all the way, making you shriek, “taking it.” The pain is so much, too much, the stretch fucking burns at how large of a cock is intruding you, but he hammers into you without regards to your comfort or pleasure. He’s the one using you, fucking you like you’re his breathing flesh light, like you’re the one working for him though he’s the escort demon. Ramming in, threatening to fuck right into your cervix, overload. You’re clamping down, your walls are rejecting him. It makes him curse loudly at how hard it is for him to move, but he’s stronger than a mere human, so ever the sadist, Kid pumps in regardless.

The pain of his unrelenting, selfish thrusts starts to turn slowly into pleasure, and the fullness and overwhelming stretch feels delicious. Your mind turns dumb and you start to whine.

“M-more,” you moan, and he grabs your tit harshly, twisting your nipple painfully, making tears rush to your eyes. He does so to the other tit, then slaps them roughly. You whimper his name, back arching like an exorcism in progress. Except exiting you, this demon is not.

“Yeah? You need some more, you selfish brat?” He growls, pace deepening and quickening. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere, not until the sun is up.” His hips snap against yours, and his nails rake down your body to fold your thighs against your chest, his crushing weight pinning you to the bed. Your mattress hitting the wall. You struggle to catch the breath that’s knocked out of you in this position.

“Fucking look at me,” he suddenly jibes, and you obediently make eye contact with him. “Now don’t you dare fucking look away or quiet those pretty noises. I want to make you scream.”

He’s going at an inhuman speed, and so fucking deep in this mating press, and hits the spot that made you cum before. His balls slapping against your ass, making you scream.

“Eustass! Eustass! Please, please, please, yes, Nnnn! Please!” You beg him to keep going, as he growls, “fuck yes, beg, princess, beg for this fucking cock,” his thrusts getting sloppier as your cunt tightens around him. Your eyes roll back a little, as he’s fucking you dumb.

“Ah!!!” You yelp, as he roughly slaps your ass.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Eustass snarls, and you bite your lip, face flushed as he glowers at you.

“T-to, to uh, look at you,” you say dumbly, gasping for air.

“That’s a smart girl,” he rubs your clit, making you squirm, and he condescendingly coos down at you, “so why don’t you look at me as I wreck you, hmm?”

His body is so big, so hot, he’s so heavy and wide as your poor legs stretch to accommodate his wide shoulders while he opens you like a flower and pounds into you. He smells so fucking good, you think, and you want him to cum inside of you and claim you as his, and you struggle but do your best to keep looking into his wild eyes. He’s absolutely feral, so intimidating, and your body rocks at his severity so you grasp the base of his horns. A little moan leaves him, and if he wasn’t pressed up so close to you, flooding up all of your thoughts and walls and senses, it would have gone undetected.

A darkness takes over his eyes. “Now you’ve fucking done it,” his voice drops ever lower, and he pulls out. Flips you over onto your hands and knees, pulls your hips to face the ceiling, and bottoms back in in one thrust. The new angle has you screaming and moaning his name, “EU—fuck!!!!” You whimper loudly, and he pushes your head down into the covers.

“Yeah—this pussy—is all—fucking mine—you hear that?” he rumbles in between thrusts, slapping your ass again as he arches your back impossibly, balls slapping your cunt. You’re too dumb to understand what he’s saying and he knows that. Your slick is everywhere between the two of you and it’s making him absolutely drunk and feral.

You’re unable to speak real words, you’re babbling and you claw the sheets as he batters your insides over and over like a battering ram. Tears and drool are soaking the covers beneath you, as you moan while you let him use you. He kneads and slaps your ass again. “Look at me.” He reminds you harshly.

You weakly turn your head to look back at him, blubbering, and his pointy, evil grin sends a jolt straight to your core again.

“You’re my fucking pet, and any man you let have this,” he makes a slicing movement with his finger over his throat. “Got it?”

You’re so gorgeous, hair plastered to your forehead and all wild, face flushed and teary, eyelashes fluttering up at him, gasping, as you whimper, “y-yes, Eustass, I belong to you,” and his deep thrusts slow luxuriously.

“Good girl,” he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up until your back meets his sweaty inferno of a chest. He rubs more circles on your puffy, abused clit and you squirm from the buzzing overstimulation of another impending orgasm. He eats up how you clench around him, and as your head spins dizzily from him still thrusting up into you deeply, he sinks his teeth into your right shoulder, claiming you.

You cry out weakly from the pain, and spasm around him like a voodoo victim and he lazily fucks you through your second orgasm, enjoying how you make a mess all over his hand.

“Oh, that’s so sexy,” he groans, lapping at the blood on your shoulder, as you squirt all over his arm, and his cock is absolutely drenched, dripping down to his balls. He moans and with a few more thrusts, stills. He fills you up with hot cum.

The giant incubus turns you both around, you still out of breath, dumb, on his cock. “Look here.” He says, like Virgil from Dante’s Inferno showing the writer the lustful circle of hell.

You peer at your reflection in the mirror. You, so fucked out, almost unrecognizable, crying, glowing, lips plump from biting them. A huge bite mark on your shoulder. Bruised hips. Both of you scratched up with a little bit of blood. Legs shaking as you’re sitting pretty on his cock, a bulge evident in your tummy. His huge hands encircling you, him, possessively overshadowing you. He’s so much bigger than you, his width eclipsing you in the reflection.

You lean your head back tiredly. He whispers lowly into your ear. “ ‘M only just getting started with you, but look at how pretty you are as my pet, yeah? This is what I’m gonna see every single night, aren’t you excited?”

You tiredly turn your head to smoosh into his pillowy chest, his smell overpowering your senses, and you look up to him. “This is all I need,” you whisper back.

He sets you down on wobbly legs and holds you up a little. He cups your jaw in his giant hand, and the white of his canines shines. His lipstick is slightly smeared. He looks gorgeous, sinister, a glowing star of red, black, amber, and pale skin.

Then he kisses you, in a way that’s startlingly soft and passionate, in his ferocious way because Eustass is, well, Eustass. He pulls away, eyes glittering darkly.

“That’s the right response, darling.”

———————————————————————-

TO BE CONTINUED 🏴‍☠️ -> part 2!

[greco-roman-polytheism]

Problematic and Bigoted Pagan Authors (and how to avoid them)

After what was pretty much a mess in a discord server I'm in over an author posting artwork containing Nazi symbols, I decided to make a post letting everyone know about certain authors and what to look out for. I will keep updating this list as I discover things!

Big thanks to @dvudushnydiaries for letting me know ab some Slavic Polytheist authors, as well as my friend Agnes for letting me know about some Irish Polytheist Authors too! <3

If you have any suggestions to add to this list, please let me know!!!

🛑 = Avoid as much as possible

⚠️ = Be very cautious around this author

Generally, here is some red flags to look out for:

Use of symbols associated with hate groups

Claims an (open culture) is closed via ethnicity, especially if these cultures or religions historically shared with other cultures.

Claims there is a "true" or "pure" version of a certain open religion.

Use of dogwhistles.

Writes historical inaccuracies, misinformation, appropriation, making up things and presenting them as fact, etc.

Refusal to take accountability for actions.

Any form of bigotry or discrimination

The list is under the cut!

Hellenic Polytheist Authors

🛑 Timothy Jay Alexander

creator of the "Pillars of Hellenismos", which have little historical basis.

Made homophobic and ableist remarks in a blog post, essentially saying that because ancient Greece did not allow same-sex marriage, that modern Hellenic Polytheists shouldn't too. In this same post he said that marriage should be for making a family, and that since LGBTQ+ people, as well as people with "physical deformities" either can not or should not have children, they cannot marry according to him.

The same ableist remarks listed above were used as reasoning as to why a disabled person shouldn't become a priest or priestess or any higher up positions due to not being in good health. This also reminds me of eugenics.

In that same blog post, referenced a group called YSEE, which is notorious for being homophobic, xenophobic, displaying nationalism among other things better explained in this post by @hellenic-reconstructionism

Books include: A Beginner’s Guide to Hellenismos - Hellenismos Today - The Gods of Reason: An Authentic Theology for Modern Hellenismos

🛑 Galina Krasskova

Numerous things have happened with this author, some of the most notable being selling "Bacchic Lives Matter" pins on Etsy during the 2020 Black Lives Matter movement protests, as well as defending a neo-nazi and fascist group, AFA, on a blog post

Some of her Hellenic Polytheist books include: Honoring the Mothers: Novenas to the Mothers of Our Gods and Heroes - Combatting the Evil Eye - Unto Herself: A Devotional Anthology for Independent Goddesses - Out of Arcadia: A Devotional Anthology in Honor of Pan - Guardian of the Road: A Devotional Anthology in Honor of Hermes

See Norse Polytheist section for her books on that.

🛑 Edward P. Butler

Supports Hindutva, which is Hindu fascism, antisemitic, as well as defends and supports Galina Krasskova.

Books include: Essays on a Polytheistic Philosophy of Religion - Essays on Hellenic Theology.

🛑 H. Jeremiah Lewis / Sannion

Neo-nazi, having nazi symbols on his blog. Also transphobic, islamophobic, and everything under the sun, really.

Books include: Ecstatic: For Dionysos - End to End - Everything Dances: Strange Spirits 3 - Gods and Mortals: New Stories of Hellenic Polytheism

Norse Polytheist Authors

🛑 Galina Krasskova

See Hellenic Polytheist section for details.

Her Norse Polytheist books include: Living Runes; Theory and Practice of Norse Divination - Northern Tradition for the Solitary Practitioner - Neolithic Shamanism; Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition

Irish Polytheist Authors

⚠️ Lora O'Brien

Has a cultish following, thier followers and even themselves bullying and publicly shaming other Irish Polytheists. Often acts negatively towards the Irish diaspora. Has taught Irish Catholic practices, which are closed.

Runs the Irish Pagan School, which has similar rhetoric.

Books include: Irish Witchcraft from an Irish Witch - A Practical Guide to Pagan Priesthood

Slavic Polytheist Authors

🛑 Patricia Woodruff

Has a cultish following, often writes wildly inaccurate information. In a recent book she had completely made up a deity whose name means "swastika". Rated her own books on Goodreads, and publicly responded to any reviews criticizing her books.

Books include: Woodruff's Guide to Slavic Deities - Roots of Slavic Magic Book 1: Slavic Deities & Their Worship

🛑 Madame Pamita

Recently had a (now-deleted) post with an artwork containing various Nazi symbols, and deleted any criticism and seemingly refused to take any accountability. In DM's had repeatedly alluded to if you didn't follow her you "didn't know anything about Slavic Polytheism". Said to be friends with Patricia Woodruff

Books include: The Book of Candle Magic, Baba Yaga's Book of Witchcraft

🛑 Dmitriy Kushnir

Writes about Rodnovery, which many Rodnovery groups in the US and other countries often have ethnonationalist and right-wing connotations and ideology.

Books include: Rodnover

⚠️ Natasha Helvin

Misconstrues Slavic culture to be Wiccan

Says witchcraft are the "universal laws of nature" and that subjects of karma and divine judgement are solely monotheistic.

Claims to be an initiated Haitian Vodou priestess, which is doubtful.

Kemetic Polytheist Authors

⚠️ E. A Wallis Budge

Inaccurate translations of texts

Books include: The Egyptian Book of the Dead (Translation)

[awyeahitssam]

Absolute crack.

Above all, Harry was an explorer. He loved to get lost in the labyrinth he called home, from the orchards to the forest to long-forgotten, dusty passageways and secret rooms. Indeed, he derived great pleasure from being so far into the unknown that he could no longer hear or see signs of civilization save those long passed. In his exploring he discovered relics of different times: a small, unbreakable glass-blown dragonfly; the preserved canine of a werewolf; a rune-inscribed well, dry as the bones that lay around it; a chunk of platinum from a time when such was still used as currency… yes, Harry was an explorer, a discoverer, and a collector, because what else was he to do without the company of others?

You see, Harry could not break past the boundaries of his home, nor could any other being. In fact, Harry had never met another living thing for all of his life. As far as he could remember, from the time when he was a youngling, all of his needs were attended to by magic itself. His nappies cleaned themselves, his meals prepared themselves, and, when he wished to learn, magic whispered and taught him. As a child it was a frequent voice, his nurturing companion, but as he grew it strayed to a silent presence and chalky hints against a blackboard; a floating book, perhaps, if he grew desperate in his desolation.

Still, Harry was content. After all he had never interacted with another living thing, and while conversing with someone might prove interesting it wasn’t as though he was ever particularly bored. He had an endless library, and the vast grounds and halls of his home to explore.

And so he looked, he learned, and he grew, by stumbling, by reading, by watching the meager hints magic let him see.

Of course Harry was far from normal, but he knew little of normalcy and so cared very little for it. He was used to an endless cycle of exploring, of cooking, of reading, cleaning, drawing, writing, speaking

Until one day, his cycle was broken.

“Who are you then?”

Harry startled so badly he dropped his book, wincing when it’s spine cracked against the hardwood floor. It was an older volume, worn by time, and Harry was always particularly careful when handling bits of history. But, well…

Harry stared at the thing across from him, astounded. It was taller than him, and looked much the same, which probably meant it was a human. That was a bit of a shame, as Harry had always imagined he would meet a creature, first: a deviously charming Fae, perhaps, or a quick and clever Naga. Still, he wasn’t too let down. He hadn’t imagined he would ever meet another living creature, so to meet one so soon was a delight!

Wait.

What had the - human! - asked?

“Oh, er, hello there... human. I’m called Harry.”

The man's eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem to know quite how to respond to that, but that was okay. Harry had lots of questions - he could just answer those.

“How ever did you end up here, though? In my home?”

Perhaps he should have been offended - wasn’t that called trespassing? - but Harry was far too fascinated for that.

“Your home,” the man hummed, not answering even as his eyes lingered on Harry, on his bare feet and long hair and wide, fascinated green gaze. Maybe he didn’t know that was rude? At least, Harry thought so - then again, magic ignored his questions often enough… though magic was honestly a bit of a bully, no matter how sweet and nurturing it could be.

“Naturally,” Harry nodded. “I don’t think you’re supposed to go around barefooted in other people’s libraries, though I might be wrong on that. I’ve never exactly been.”

The human frowned at him. “No, that’s right. You’ve never - Harry.”

Harry blinked at the abrupt use of his name. “I’ve never… Harry?"

Was that a question?

“Your name. What’s your surname?”

Harry frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Not sure. Magic’s probably told me before...”

“Magic’s told you?”

“Well, yes,” Harry nodded, unsure why the other sounded so surprised. This wasn’t at all what he had imagined. Then again, he hadn’t really imagined much of anything. “What’s your name?”

For a moment the man's face looked odd, almost conflicted, and then he said, “Tom.”

“Tom,” Harry pronounced slowly, really wrapping his mouth around it. “Okay, Tom. How did you get here?”

“That’s… a long story.”

Harry lit up. “That’s all right - I love stories!”

They sat in that library for several hours, and in that time Harry learned of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Of how he subjugated magical creatures, witches, and wizards. Of how he slaughtered his own kind as indiscriminately as muggles, and in his fool heartedness, exposed wizards to muggles.

Tom spoke of a war, terrible and long. He spoke of a dying planet, and of Voldemort’s undignified end at the hands of the very muggles he thought so worthless.

Then, he spoke of a second chance.

Voldemort was, by all accounts, a villain. And Harry—well, he had always liked villains the best.

“You’re in your redemption arc!” Harry enthused. “If you do things right I bet you can become an antihero.”

[trans-queen-administrator]

Sometimes I think about the intrinsically doomed tragedy of Lisa loving Taylor and frantically trying to prevent her self destruction by doing absolutely everything for her while refusing to let down her own walls, and when she is genuine and lets Taylor see through the facade it's not enough to keep her and she still leaves both times. Or I think about the unbreakable bond and trust between Rachel and Taylor where Taylor is the only one who tries to communicate properly with her and does so much to help to the point where Rachel would trust her with literally anything which means she trusts Taylor to have a plan even when Taylor's plan is to throw herself away. Or I think about Brian and Taylor's friendship and later relationship that happened because Brian needed some way to deal with the horror of what Bonesaw did without letting down his walls because if he stops appearing in control he'll crack and they just both tried and failed so hard to be normal, but if things went differently they could have been happy together. Or I think about Taylor and Alec and how Alec saw her as a good normal how Taylor never really understood him even at the end and didn't even like him because she can't acknowledge their similarities and maybe if things were different they could grow to understand each other a bit more. Or I think about Taylor and Aisha and how Aisha went from being a mischievous gremlin constantly to losing her best friend and then her brother and then she had to stand by Taylor and sing to her as she broke and faded as a person while fully knowing she was going to lose another friend and having that confirmed when Taylor seized her body and held a knife to her throat. And every time I think about all the tragedies of loving Taylor Hebert, the ways things could have gone differently and everyone could have been happy if things were tweaked in the slightest way, I remember the glory of fanfiction and bask in the knowledge that other people feel this and will write their own fics where the characters get a better ending, and life is good.

And then I go on AO3 and I remember that 35% of fanfic in this wretched fandom is alternate powers for someone named Taylor who definitely isn't acting like her, 18% is revenge fantasies against the bullies where Taylor is harsher to Sophia specifically hmmm I wonder why, 22% is Taylor in the most unrealistic sanitized relationship ever written where everyone is out of character and reading it feels like eating styrofoam, 13% is attempting to redeem Purity or Rune or someone else in the E88, 11% has Greg as a main character with epic gamer powers, and the remaining 1% is actually readable original fanfic. I'm so tired. Why are so so many people shipping some combination of Taylor, Victoria, and Amy. Who the fuck is writing Polysiders. Why is 80% of this written and read by people who haven't read Worm and smugly believe that the absolute garbage fanfics they've read are better because nothing bad happens. I'm going insane I can't take this.

[iamnotyourgodsherald]

Chapter 2 of Meeting the In Laws!

Contains: NSFW themes. Loving and fluff themes. 18+ only.

Thursday morning came. We packed our bags and donned our crow armor, leaving my crow mask in my bag. I made sure I had my poison vials on my hips and my arrows all accounted for while Lucanis counted his knives. Making sure he had exactly eight of them on him, which he then put on his person.

As we were heading to the Eluvian, we started saying goodbyes to everyone in the Lighthouse. Taash stopped me as Bellara pulled Lucanis to the side, talking to him.

“Trix, hold on.” Taash urged.

“Yeah, Taash?”

I had to crane my neck to look up at her, towering over me like a huge wyvern. Her long white braid hung down in front of her like broken chains, and those intense eyes staring down at me with a small amount of concern behind them. She was massive and glorious, and constantly scared the shit out of me. She could break me, and I’d honestly let her.

“Think you can handle going to meet the family? I mean, who's gonna be there if you pass out again? You know they make supplements for that?”

“You think you’re funny, huh?”

“I know I’m funny. Seriously though, are you going to be okay? These Crows… Sounds like shady shit. I mean, with everything still going on…”

“It’s important to Lucanis and I. Though, I understand your concern. Crows recently don't have the best track record.”

“Yeah well. Try to take it easy while you're there, if you can. Don’t overexert yourself. Emmerich won't be there to revive your ass.”

“Come on, I’ve been embarrassed enough! It’s bad enough you and Davrin make fun of me constantly for it, now Emmerich is playing Mother Hen because of you two.”

Emmerich piped up, rushing over and handing me a satchel of strong smelling plants. Manfred standing close by and peeking out from behind Emmerich.

Noooooooo…

“Take these herbs, Demitrix! Whenever you and Lucanis are about to have intercourse, chew on them thirty minutes before you start!”

I put my hood up and snatched the herbs from Emmerich.

“Thank you, Emmerich…”

“What do the herbs do? Keep him hard?” Taash inquired.

Kill me. Please, Creators. Fucking kill me.

He turned to Taash. “No! Hes young enough where that shouldn't be a problem. Although if that does happen, i have a remedy for that as well. No, These will help him combat the fainting if it remains an issue. There's a special chemical inside the plant that helps with-“”

“Alright, I’m leaving.” I quickly said, turning towards the Eluvian. “I didn’t realize you guys were just gonna talk about this right before we left.”

“Wait! I’m not done bullying you yet! I came up with new jokes! I have a list!” Taash laughed.

“You've been bullying me all week!” I yelled back.

“Remember! Thirty minutes before!” Emmerich giggled.

Manfeed only hissed at me.

“Yeah, what Manfred said.”

“Goodness! Manfred, I didn't even see you there!” Emmerich gasped.

Hissssss

Davrin stepped in, laughing.

“Enough, enough. Demitrix, are you sure about all of this? A place full of assassins. The very thought makes me uneasy. Not that I don’t trust your skills or Lucanis’s. I just… Don’t trust their intentions.” Davrin spoke with concern.

“I appreciate the concern, Dav. I know how the Antivan Crows work but I can’t say I don’t have any reserves about the whole thing. I have a really bad feeling about it. Like… something is lying in wait.” I explain.

“So Why go at all?” Davrin asks, tilting his head. “If you think it'll go sideways, why not bring all of us? I don’t think you should go by yourselves.”

“If it’s important to him, then it’s important to me. I want to go, but I am keeping myself open to the dangers of being around a bunch of high ranking Crows. Trust Lucanis and I to handle it.” I spoke with conviction.

I held my hands up, showing off the rune signatures painted on my nails.

“Besides, I have some precautions in place as well as antidotes. Trust me, I didn’t get this far being an Antivan Crow by chasing tail and partying. I am from Viago de Rivas cell. We are a paranoid bunch, to be sure. You’d be too if you knew the effects that some poisons do… Even after you’ve been given an antidote.”

“What is that?” Davrin said, taking my hand and looking at my nails. “Are these runes painted on you?”

“It's a special kind of paint that has a very tiny pinch of refined lyrium in it. A rune symbol is painted on my nails to dip into drinks and liquids. If the paint feels anything corrosive or poisonous, then the paint will peel off into the drink and melt into the liquid. Coloring it black.”

“That's… Really handy to have”

“That’s why it's an Antivan Crow special. Only for Viago’s faction.” I say, showcasing a smirk. “I am not going into this meeting unless I know I can defend myself.”

Davrin smiled at me and crossed his arms.

“I knew that pretty boy face was hiding some cleverness.” Davrin joked with a chuckle.

I laughed along with him.

“This pretty face has always been clever.”

“How do we contact you? In case we need you guys? I know this is important but we need to be able to contact you in case… things happen. It always does.”

Bellara bounced over, Lucanis rejoining my side.

“With this!” She yelled, holding out a pair of crystal necklaces.

“What is this?” I asked.

She then put it around my neck and then around Davrin.

“These are sending crystals! I found them just sitting around in Minrathous on a bench near a bar! Crazy right? Anyway, if you speak directly into the necklace, the other recipient will hear it and be able to respond to you! As If you guys are standing like… how you are now!”

Davrin looked at me and then lifted the necklace to his mouth.

“In peace, Vigilance.”

Davrins voice came through the crystal, clear.

“Damn! Leave it to Bellara to find a solution to everything.” I said proudly.

Bellara giggled. “I figured after… well, it shouldn't be a problem now! If we need to talk, we can do so easily now!”

I turned towards the Lucanis, tucking the necklace into my leathers.

“Are you ready to go, amore?”

“Very ready. Let us hurry.”

We said our last goodbyes to everyone before going through the mirror leading out into the Crossroads. We got to the Treviso mirror and as the Eluvian closed behind us, the smell of clove and sea salt air hit my face. The soft scents of incense floated from the nearby chantry and I thought longingly of my balcony back home, and with a groan, I started carrying off our bags to the street.

The streets were quiet with a few locals wandering around, the gulls squawking as they flew overhead.

“Wait here, I will find us a carriage.” I spoke up, putting my stuff down. “Can you watch our stuff until I come back?”

He nodded.

“Be safe, amore. I will wait for you.”

I smiled and went off to find a carriage driver while Lucanis stayed to guard our luggage. He's not a social bird and I could probably get us a cheap ride if I “flaunted” my job title. He's not the one for flaunting, more intimidation.

Time rolled by as I went searching and asking around for where a carriage service was and as I finished up talking with a local, something flew by me, and then something was falling softly to the ground. A single black raven feather that shone brilliantly with an irresistible shimmer.

I quickly sprang into action and looked towards the roofs quickly, diving into the shadows of the alleyways. Quickly, I pulled my bow out and notched an arrow, aiming towards the rooftops where the bird flew from. A shadow was seen looking down at me, cape fluttering in the wind. A shiny crow mask adorning their face along with poofy curls peeking out of their hood. They watched me before they turned and disappeared from view.

I see. They are making sure that Lucanis’s and I are on our way. If they meant harm, they would have shot an arrow or threw a dagger. Quiet and subtle. This was loud and a message. “We are watching.”

After taking a minute to look around and nothing happening, I relaxed, taking a breath of relief. I walked over to the feather and picked it up, inspecting it. The feather was marvelously well kept and had no signs of wear or weathering. This was a pet raven, One that was spoiled.

It’s really pretty.. I should give it to Luca! It fits with his look! I always love giving him little trinkets like these.

After tracking down the carriage the local directed me to, I rode it back to Lucanis and helped him with our stuff.

“Luca, I caught a glimpse of an Antivan Crow when I was getting the carriage earlier. They are making damn sure that we know they are watching us.” I spoke in a hushed tone.

“They were making sure we were on our way. Illario is being impatient.”

“This is normal then?”

“For Illario, Of course.” He chuckled.

Lucanis looked focused. This probably felt like he was on a job so he was acting accordingly. Short conversations, his eyes darting around in a cautious manner.

“I have a present for you!”

“For me?” Lucanis said, surprised.

“Yeah! Here.”

I placed the feather in his hand and watched his face, but he seemed confused.

“What is this? Why are you giving me a feather?” He asked, perplexed.

“Oh. I figured you would like it. I thought it was pretty and it fits you… so I just… Nevermind, It was stupid, I’ll take it back and-“

“Don't take it back, I love it.”

“Don't take it back? You seemed so-“

“I LOVE it. I was only confused about why a feather and why this one. Now that I know, It is mine. I want to keep it.”

I smiled and watched as he fiddled with it on his clothes. As we got into the carriage together, I saw he tucked it right behind the vials that are strapped to his chest. I smiled to myself and blushed at him displaying it on himself.

As we started on our carriage ride there, I leaned my head on Lucanis’s shoulder as we rode off. Looking up at him and smiling, I grab a hold of his hand, intertwined my fingers with his and relaxed into him. He must have been tense, for his shoulders lowered and his body relaxed as I squeezed his hand.

“Nervous, mi amore? They’re your family.”

“A family of Crows.”

“Fair, but aren't you more familiar with them? I mean, at least with Illario. They love you-“

“I am not worried for me.”

“You're… worried about me? Please, I can handle a few Crows, darling.”

“I worry about what they have planned for us. For you.”

He cupped my face in his hands, kissing my forehead.

“I don’t want them to scare you away from me.”

“Lucanis…” I purred, holding his hand that was cupping my face. “I love you. They can’t scare me away from you. It’s you and I now. Plus our little family.”

He searched my eyes for a moment, his eyes shaky and searching for something in me. Maybe doubt? Any sign of apprehension? Either way, he must have not found it. He began to calm and leaned his forehead against mine, taking a deep breath, his eyes closed. He squeezed my hand tighter and then pulled me in for a deep kiss, holding the back of my head gently.

I melted so easily to his lips locking onto mine, and closed my eyes. Just letting the world melt away and all of its problems to just Lucanis and I. I enjoyed his romantic heart, even if I was still not used to it. His romance made my chest warm and almost made me feel so… shy. So vulnerable. I was used to more primal urges. This kind of care and love… It was foreign to me.

“I love you, Luca…” I longingly sigh.

“I love you too, Trix…” He said a similar tone.

I kept my face pressed against his, holding us like that for a while before Lucanis kissed my forehead and relaxed, looking out the window. His eyes seemed to focus elsewhere. I could only guess his family was on his mind. More worry. My love’s mind was vast and hard to pin down and it was hard at times to see what exactly was on his mind. I decided to do the same as him and looked out my window, watching as we passed through the Antivan countryside.

Autumn was in full swing in Antiva. Comforting colors of reds and oranges were dotted amongst the rolling hills of the grasslands, blotches of yellowing grass that surrounded the fields of the farms that passed by made only miss the fresh green of spring. Farmers were out with their scythes, getting crops and loading them into carts for the yearly harvest before settling down for winter.

The sea in the distance glittered with the afternoon sun, making it look like a portal to the Maker had opened in the water. It was so tempting to swim in that holy looking water, but given recent events, decided against it.

I wondered to myself whether or not the family gathering would allow me to sneak away to peek at nature. I also haven't swam in a while, and it was still early enough to do so without it being too cold. I lamented that I haven't had the chance to go swimming, being busy with the Veilguard and you know… The whole world ending business. Maybe Where we go will have a nice lake, or a small pool? One could only hope. After a bit, I just fell asleep, dreaming of being away from everything.

A couple of hours passed before the driver spoke up, spooking me out of sleep.

“We are nearing the lake house now, sers!”

“Good.” Lucanis said curtly.

I looked at Lucanis, half awake still and groggy. My hair, draping in front of my face.

“Lake house…?”

“Good evening, Sleeping Beauty.” He laughed.

“Fuck off.” I chuckled back, punching his shoulder. “We’re going to a lake house?”

“Yes, Lago de Novo.”

Oh fuck.

“Isn’t that where…?”

“‘The Great Betrayal’ happened? Yes.”

Great. They are sending a message. Hurt Lucanis and you'll be killed the same way the traitor Talon was. Lago de Novo was where a Talon betrayed and killed most of the other Talons of the Antivan Crows. Dealing a severe blow to the order. While we managed to pick ourselves back up from the incident, people are still weary of talking about it. Especially in front of Viago and Teia. Now, I am about to go there to meet them.

“Boy, your folks really know how to make a man feel welcome…” I jested.

“You know The Crows are dramatic. Illario especially.”

“Yeah well they don't scare me. You know that. Just. Makes me nervous.”

Lucanis shuffled in his seat uneasily for a second, before looking at me with big soft eyes.

“Demitrix… You… You know I am not good at this. For you… I want to try. You DO know if you need to talk to me or tell me something… I will always listen. Right?”

“Of course…? Where did that come from?” I looked at him, confused.

“You…tend to keep things hidden. I just… I want you to trust me. I don't want you to keep it inside. Right now, this level of trust is crucial. You understand?” He said delicately.

“Same goes to you, love.”

“Trix-“

The carriage driver stopped abruptly and hopped down.

“We are here, sers!”

Lucanis gave me a “we will talk about this later” look and I felt my face flush with embarrassment as he got out.

Wow, Demitrix. Way to piss off Luca. Just fucking talk to him!

My fear got the better of me, however, and I got out cracking jokes just as before.

Lucanis and I then grabbed our things and headed over to the black gondola waiting for us by the docks.

“Oh I can't wait! I'll go swimming! Or I could go for a walk? You could cone too! Anything you feel comfortable with! Either way, I am going swimming, autumn be damned.”

Lucanis just seemed to watch me talk as he loaded our things in the boat, a small smile on his face.

“You have always looked adorable when you are excited.” He cooed, walking over and kissing my cheek. “I’ll do whatever you want to do after dinner and introductions. Crows are patient but not for other Crows.”

I nodded at him, keeping a lid on my excitement for now. Lucanis gave a soft chuckle at me and nodded at the gondola driver to start moving across the lake. While Lucanis sat, perfectly poised and noble-like, I dipped my hand into the water, feeling the cold refreshing water against my hand.

“You know this lake is full of carnivorous fish, right?” Lucanis piped up.

“What?!” I yelled, yanking my hand out. “Really?!”

“No.” He smirked before covering his mouth. “Just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You're an ass! No sex for you, tonight.”

“Demitrix!” He barked.

“What?! You tricked me!” I yelled back.

“We are not alone!”

He motioned to the gondola driver.

“And? I'm sure the gondola driver has had lots of sex! Probably have a lot of kids! From having sex!”

“DEMITRIX.” He yelled, exasperated

“What?! Tell him, Have you had lots of sex?” I ask the Driver.

Lucanis just put his head in his hands,

sighing loudly. The driver just stayed quiet and kept his head bowed but I saw his body start to shake as if he was holding back laughter. I gave a smug grin to Lucanis before sitting back.

As we got closer to the shore, we saw a familiar woman in a long black silk dress seemingly waiting by the shore. She had a slit in her dress showing off her long smooth leg and her hair down and poofed out, her long curls swaying in the breeze. As soon as we came up on shore, she rushed over and greeted Lucanis.

“Lucanis! My dear! Glad to see you are still doing well!” She chirped, kissing both his cheeks. “You know, you could always visit, let us know how you are.”

I recognized her as Andarateia Cantori, the Seventh Talon who was as beautiful as she was deadly. She used both her beauty and her assassin skills equally well and quickly gained respect and fear in equal measure within the Crows.

She turned and looked at me, smiling opening her arms out wide to me and pulling me into a hug. I happily greeted her back, keeping my guard up at the same time

“Demitrix! It's been a long time! I can't wait to get to know you more over this weekend. See what Lucanis sees in you and what you see in Mr Grumpy over there. I also hope you've been treating him well.”

“I hope so! Otherwise, Lucanis has some explaining to do.” I laughed, grabbing a hold of Lucanis’s hand. “I cant wait to meet everyone and get closer to the family. This is obviously very important to Lucanis, and what can I say? I am a sucker for those big sad brown eyes.”

“I do not have big sad brown eyes.” Lucanis growled.

“The cutest pair~” I purred.

Teia smiled, giggling a bit.

“You two are so cute! I cannot wait for you to meet everyone else, Demitrix. Lucanis had mentioned that you loved swimming! I am sure you are very excited to be here. We could go swimming together if you wished.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love that! I was over the moon when Lucanis surprised me with it! I have loved the water since I was small!”

Teia smiled a bit brighter. More genuinely than before.

“I am glad you are so excited.” She snickered.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Lucanis looked away towards the lake surrounding us. The wind blowing at his hair and armor, making him look like a moody, elegant painting. I must have been staring at him for s minute and not paying attention to Teia because she stepped in front of me, looking at Lucanis and then looking back at me with a mischievous smirk on her ruby red lips.

“You are getting distracted, dear~” She teased.

“Ah! Sorry, hes just… very distracting.~” I sighed longingly, smiling as I watched him. “Verrrry distracting.”

“Hey! Come back to me! You can look at Lucanis later! Come! Let's meet the family!” She chirped quickly, hugging my arm and pulling me in. “Viago! Illario! Lucanis and Demitrix are here!”

Lucanis walked slowly behind us as we approached the building, almost looking like a large dark-furred wolf, watching over me. I looked back at Lucanis, whose intense eyes wandered the villa, looming close to me. We walked inside where I marveled at the look of the place, almost feeling like I was in an Antivan storybook. We were standing in a large open foyer decorated with black marble with dark cherry colored wood accents. Green satin curtains decorated the windows and clung to the floor like a dress. Dark green carpets, Antivan rugs and runners laid across the floors. Leading to a grand set of wooden doors with the Antivan Crows logo on it. A balcony hung over the grand twin doors with silky green banners hanging from the railing. The floors were the same color of dark cherry as well. The hardwood was not even creaking as we stepped in, The only thing heard was Teia’s heels clicking on the floor as she walked forward, yelling for everyone.

“She's very loud and quite flamboyant. I like her. It'll be nice not being the only elf in a house full of humans as well.” I whispered towards Lucanis.

“I knew you’d like her.” Lucanis said with a smile.

She came back over to me and grabbed my hands, holding them up, her heartwood colored eyes staring back into mine.

“Let me be the first to welcome you, Demitrix. You must know, I didn’t think anyone would ever come to us on Lucanis’s arm.”

“What is that supposed to-” Lucanis started to say.

“I am so overjoyed that it is you. His savior and now his lover. Almost like a storybook!”

I smiled at her kind words, but the back of my head itched. I knew this felt way too friendly compared to what Lucanis told me back at the Lighthouse, but I kept smiling, holding her hands back. Part of me was almost upset at the fact that I couldn’t trust her honeyed words.

Deep down, we are all Crows. A suspicious lot, but that's just how we survive.

“Oh!” I chirped. “Before I forget, Lucanis will need coffee soon. He hasn't had it for a minute.”

“Did I hear that my Cousin is home?”

I looked up at the balcony to see Illario with a glass of red wine in his hand. His hair slicked back and a black, opened and pressed button up shirt with a green sash across his waist and black dress pants.

“Hello Illario.” Lucanis said plainly, his eyes looking Illario up and down. “Do you still not know how to button up a shirt?”

“Ha! Youre funny.” Illario said, leaning on the balcony. “ Does your lover?”

He gestures at my Crow outfit, my chest and the top part of my stomach exposed. Playing up my confidence. I spin in place on my heel and toss my scarf.

“It’s my signature! I’m a lure. A siren~.”

“He can actually pull off the look.” Lucanis smirked.

“Ouch! Such sass! I hope you don’t let him talk to you like that, Demitrix.” Illario laughed, finishing off his wine. “I’ll be down in a minute. Viago should be there momentarily.”

Illario disappeared down an upper hallway and almost as if on cue, We see the large twin doors opening and out walks Viago in a nice suit with black gloves. His icy cold eyes narrowed as he walked in. A beautiful looking Death Adder snuggly wrapped around his arm.

Lucanis put his hand gently on my back, rubbing it as Viago approached us. Teia went over to him, planting a big kiss on his cheek and taking his arm that was free of the cane and snake.

“Hello, love! You remember Demitrix, right?”

She leaned in and whispered something in his ear and let go of him, gesturing towards me. Viago stepped forward, his gaze sharp and locked onto me. As he stepped over to me, I stepped forward as well, Lucanis grabbing my hand.

“Demitrix.” Viago sighed, a bit of annoyance floated with my name. “Good to see you again. I look forward to getting to know you.”

I gulped but shook the dread away by squeezing Lucanis’s hand and letting go of it. Smiling, I held out my hand.

“Good to see you, sir! You and Teia look amazing this evening. You both and… Arainai.” I said nervously.

“Lucanis must have told you about him. Yes. The snake that nearly killed me in this manor. The only thing that ever came close to killing me.” He spoke with a lowered tone, his eyes narrowing. “As for Teia. She always looks amazing. However, Be respectful. She is still your Talon. Do not ogle at her.”

I sweated a bit and put my hand back down, letting out a forced chuckle.

“Don't worry, I have my own lover to ogle at.”

“Yes.” His eyes shot over to Lucanis. “You seem enraptured by him. I do hope that you aren't getting distracted from your contract.”

“We arent, Viago.” Lucanis spat sharply.

“Just something to keep in mind. We shall see how you both fare in the coming days. So far, Demitrix hasn't had a good track record.”

Lucanis went to say something but I raised my hand slightly looking at him. He closed his lips, and glared at Viago instead, letting me speak.

“I…promise I will not disappoint.”

Viago turned and rejoined Teias side, staring at me with a mixed look. Almost hopeful? Teia gripped onto Viagos arm and smiled apologetically at me.

“I hope not.” Viago growled under his breath.

Illario popped into the doorway, rushing over to hug me.

“Hello, little bird! So you are the one, huh? The one that managed to claim that icy heart of his?”

“Icy? Not at all! He's a sweetheart!” I joked, trying to be as charming as I could be. “The kindest man I have ever met! The most handsome one too! I am the luckiest man in Thedas!”

“Demitrix…” Lucanis hushed in an almost bashful tone.

“Oh! This is a new face and voice for you, Lucanis! Demitrix, you must be a miracle worker! Look! He's blushing!” He laughed.

“Illario. Quit it.”

“Ugh! You are no fun, Cousin! Demitrix, what do you even see in him? You seem like you'd be my type. Mind switching to me for an evening?~”

I blushed brightly, and nervously chuckled. Lucanis got between us, his arm wrapping around me and pulling me into his body.

“He is mine.”

Illario shot a smug look towards Lucanis, before peeking down at me.

“As you wish, Cousin.”

Previous Chapter

[beevean]

N!Alucard swearing in particular doesn't mske sense because he was raised by the two people in the whole show who actually never swore once and were really refined, not to mention he presumably lived in pretty isolated conditions so there could be no way for him to gain any rude behavior

The show tries to sell the idea that Trevor's behavior rubbed off on him but he was calling his ancestors brain dead hillbillies and overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

It literally makes no sense for him to be this way even in-universe

Yes, exactly.

It's the same logic of that S4 scene where Sypha goes on a rant because "I said shit, you did this to me!" when this woman literally snarked that she was going to make Trevor drink her piss by telling him its was beer, like, 10 minutes after meeting him. No, you made nearly everyone talk the same, you don't get to paint Trevor as the "crass one"!

Funnily enough, Alucard insulting the Belmont heritage by more or less calling them primitive savages for their techniques does fit the idea that he's a haughty spoiled prince who thinks he's so much superior than the low class. Probably not what the writers intended, though :P

overall acting like a cunt as soon as he met the guy

In S1E4, he literally asks Trevor if he's "a runt running around with the Belmont crest" before even fighting. And I get the idea that Alucard wanted to test him to see if he could help him, but the antagonism is so forced. I honestly don't know why Alucard would hate Trevor on sight: their personalities are not that opposite.

It's shit like this that pisses me off:

Alucard: This is a simple remote viewing mirror. A little of the activating language is chipped. A few of the runes need re-cutting, but workable. You have the most fascinating family junkyard, Belmont. Trevor: You are a cockwart, Alucard. Sypha: Stop it. *drags Trevor away* You are an adult. You do not have to rise to his every barb. Trevor: He's pissing me off like it's his job, Sypha. Sypha: Grow up, Trevor.

Alucard attacked Trevor first for literally zero reason, Trevor insults him back (less elegantly but whatever, I'd call him a cockwart too) and Sypha reproaches him and tells him to grow up? And then the scene transitions to Trevor explaining the origins of his name... which leads to the two flirting? Bro? The fuck? This is literally "be nice to your bully" logic??

This is the forced framing of the show. It wants to tell me Trevor is the immature, rude one, because Alucard is justified:

Sypha: But it's like he's a cold spot in the room. It's not like your sadness. Trevor: I'm not sad. Sypha: Yes, you are. But I can shout at you, or tease you, and get a reaction that lets me know you're still in there. His sadness is like an icy well. It's bottomless… and it swallows up your voice and anything you try to drop into it.

Trevor's depression is funny, Alucard's depression is tragic. Comic relief vs. real protagonist. You can't make this shit up.

And then this other shit:

Sypha: Stop testing him, Alucard. Alucard: I am concerned I have thrown my lot in with a demented infant. Sypha: I imagine he has similar concerns about you. Alucard: I am also concerned that you enjoy him too much. Sypha: And what is that supposed to mean? Alucard: He is unreliable, emotionally damaged, and apparently very distracting to you while you should be focused on the task at hand. Sypha: Oh. Am I not working hard enough? Hmm? Alucard: And he's a drunk and he's self-destructive and anybody trying to hold on to him may well simply be dragged down with him. Sypha: You're afraid. You worry that you might have made the wrong choice. So you're trying to make him prove himself again and again by constantly provoking him. You forget, Alucard. Trevor didn't get to finish out his childhood. He is not the man here who may not have grown up.

This is not testing. Sypha joked about finding a book with penis spells, and Alucard unprovoked threw a jab at Trevor. He just decided to insult him as soon as he saw an opening. (although, hilariously enough, it lowkey sounds like he's crushing on Sypha and he's jealous that she and Trevor had a decent chat the other night)

Hey, asshole. Trevor literally brought your ungrateful ass to a place that holds all of his heritage, a heritage he was shunned for, because you need help to kill Daddy - and I don't give a shit if you feel attacked in your vampire identity which makes zero sense and makes you look really callous, you want a vampire hunter for the job, you get someone who kills people like you for a living. You have seen him fighting: you have seen that he is very competent at his job, which is what you need. On the other hand, in S2 we barely if ever see him drink like in S1. You literally, literally, have zero reasons to speak that way, unless you're just looking for excuses to be a dick. And if you're that insecure about your choice... leave. Find someone else. Go fight Dracula alone, since in any case you ended up doing all the work. And Sypha, why the fuck did you go and bang Trevor when you clearly prefer Alucard over him. Look, she's defending him, but she's still calling him a manchild! What's with Ellis and his obsession with manchildren and humiliating them!

... I'm sorry, I know I strayed away from the point of him swearing, but N!Alucard is such a rude prick! I hate him! It's not Trevor's fault, he was born that way! He's not even that pretty that would justify him becoming the fandom's blorbo! I want to slap him and Sypha so much and then rescue Trevor who needs much better friends than these two 😭

[feeling-high-with-pride]

Thinking about Odin and Magpie...

On some brainrot stuff again so I’m gonna ramble about the Arrow siblings. 

A long while ago I saved a translation of the nordic runes in panel 1547, seen below;

I can’t recall who did the translation (whether it was from here or Reddit, so if someone knows I’ll add credits to them!) but it reads:

“I woke up this morning and realised that I could not remember the sound of her voice. Her laugh echoes in my head when I try hard enough to imagine it. But it's nothing more than an empty weightless reflection of reality teetering on the cusp of my memory and it only brings me pain to try and remember it. But my fear of forgetting her is much more powerful and so I must remember and end up at the same question of everybody in the universe. What did we do to deserve this. Why me?"

This, written in Odin’s notebook presumably, was shown directly after Moribund Malediction. There is a level of intense melancholy associated with this writing, exploring a sense of longing to remember those who are no longer with us. If Odin did write this, then there are two characters that this reflection piece could be referring to; either Magpie or Odin’s mother. I’m more inclined to believe it’s Odin’s mother in this sense, as it’s been a longer period of time since she’s been around versus Magpie’s disappearance about 2 and a half years prior to the main story. 

Tragically, Odin is forgetting his mother. 

It doesn’t help that Pedri (later in the story when Odin is unveiling his “tragic backstoryTM”) was shown to be tormenting Odin through the visage of his mother. Being shown so many illusions, and perhaps turning to the herbs he smokes as a way of deterring Pedri, it would make sense if Odin has begun to forget what his mother was actually like when he was younger. It seems like the only good memory or dream he has of her is from when he was born around Gildhaust and she was showing him around. 

It would be really sad if Odin was forgetting Magpie too, but from the clearer shots of her in his memories I do doubt it. 

Speaking of Magpie, I went back to check out some panels I knew existed (namely panels 1275-1277, which appear just after Ava is trapped in the Gate to Paradise machine. 

Looking back on these...it has to be Magpie! The bow, the blue...it just makes sense!

The first image shows Magpie looking rather happy, holding the hand of a featureless figure. This is likely Magpie with her ‘inbisible friend’, as she told Odin when they were younger. The inclusion of a happy sun (I think it is one on the righthand side?) is interesting, given that Aedinfell hasn’t been with a proper sun for a long time. 

The second image shows Magpie looking much more upset and crying, standing alongside two other girls of similar (if not exact) stature. This must be her sisters; Crow and Raven. As the youngest of the triplets, she often was given a lot of grief (in Odin’s words), so this drawing seems to exemplify that! It’s possible she was bullied by her sisters, or teased for being the youngest. 

The third image is a bit more confusing in my opinion. There’s 6 vertical lines followed by a faceless girl. It doesn’t appear to be Magpie specifically, since the bow is missing, but it could always be her regardless. My first thought (which could be wrong) was that the lines plus the girl equal to seven, like the seven deadly sins that the Hosts are meant to portray. Ava = Wrath, Odin = Pride, Gil = Envy, Maggie = Lust, Erios = Greed(?) and then three others that have yet to be revealed. What if this signifies that Magpie is the last Host we’ll meet pertaining to these sins? Honestly she’s probably not, but it’d be pretty cool. 

If anyone has thoughts on that last image I’d love to hear them.

Anyway, I guess the point of these rambles is that I think the Arrow siblings need a big hug and lots of blankets because holy shit this family is traumatised af, and definitely need the additional care and love that they missed out on getting when they were kids. 

[ellecdc]

can i request angst with sirius 🥲 like where reader finds out he only dated her for a bet 🧍‍♀️my hyperfixation on this trope is sickening and i hope to hear mother elle’s take on this 🙏🩷

ughhhhh I think maybe you guys hate me??? what's with the angst, my loves? why are we doing this to me? Listen: I wrote your Sirius Black dating reader for a bet..............but I made it a miscommunication trope/hurt-comfort I'M SORRY I COULDN'T DO IT. I get angst, truly, but I didn't want Sirius to actually be mean to us 😢 hope this works for you 🫶

Sirius Black x fem!reader CW: perceived bullying, miscommunication trope, hurt/comfort

Sirius Black was many things. He was a wizard, he was an animagus, he was a disinherited heir to a Pureblood family, he was a Gryffindor, he was a flirt and a friend.

One thing Sirius Black was not was a coward.

“Then go ask her out.” Peter said plainly.

Sirius scoffed. “I will do no such thing.”

“Why not?” Remus asked with a smirk. “You like her, you can’t stop staring at her, and you find every excuse in the book to be in her vicinity other than ask her out.”

“I don’t understand what your hang up is.” James added. “You’ve never had a problem asking girls out before.”

“I don’t have any hang up’s, Prongsie. I’ve never had and still don’t have a problem asking girls out.”

“Good.” Remus jumped in quickly. “So go ask her out.”

“No.” Sirius said petulantly. 

Peter’s expression grew into a mischievous smirk as he shared a knowing look with his two other friends. “Let’s make a bet then.”

This caught Sirius’ attention. “I’m listening.”

“If you don’t ask Y/N out on a date, you have to do my Astronomy homework for two weeks.” Peter offered.

Sirius scoffed. “I fail to see how this bet benefit’s me at all.”

“Well, ignoring the fact that you’d have a date with the girl of your dreams; if you do ask her out, I will do your Ancient Runes homework for two weeks.” Peter bargained.

Well…Sirius couldn’t deny that those stakes were pretty beneficial to him. 

And he could really use the help in Ancient Runes.

“Petey, my boy. You’ve got yourself a deal.” He proclaimed with a smirk as he marched his way across the library to where you were sitting. 

But by the time he got over to you…all words left his brain.

Why was this so difficult for him? He had a reputation as Hogwarts' Ladies Man. You were a lady – why couldn’t he talk to you!?

“Hello Sirius.” You greeted him warmly, putting the dumb sod out of his misery.

“Uhm, er, hi Y/N!” He returned awkwardly, grimacing at the delivery himself. You had the good graces just to smile at him, though. Gods he was a goner.

He heard snickering behind him from his friends and your eyes nervously darted over to the group.

“Uhm, was…was there something I could help you with?” You asked nervously, eyes moving between Sirius and his friends as you played nervously with the quill in your hands. 

“Uhm, no. Well, yes actually, you see…I was wondering if perhaps you might want to maybe go to Hogsmeade with me, at some point. No pressure though…” He rambled, trailing off awkwardly and grimacing once again. 

You chuckled nervously, but kept your eyes locked on his friends.

“Sirius, is…is this a prank?”

Sirius felt all colour drain from his face. 

Oh gods. Between his awkwardness and his friends all giggling like schoolgirls behind him paired with the fact they are known for their mischief, you thought he was pranking you!?

“Oh gods. Y/N, no! No, ugh, I’ve really mucked this up.” He groaned as he slumped down into a chair beside you. “It’s just…the wankers” he said, motioning to said wankers behind him, “know I’ve been uncharacteristically nervous about asking you out for a while now. They’re just having a go at me.” 

“Sirius Black? Nervous? To ask me out?” You scoffed. “Do you take me as a fool, Black?”

“No! No, Merlin, please, believe me – one date, okay? One date to prove I’m not the tosser I apparently look like right now.” He begged. Begged! Sirius Black had been diminished to begging. 

He was never going to live this down.

You narrowed your eyes and surveyed Sirius’ form whilst Sirius fought the urge to shield himself from your piercing gaze. Your eyes flit over to his friends before decision seemed to paint your features.

“Fine.” You said, “one date at Hogsmeade, this weekend.”

The way you were speaking made it sound like a formal business transaction, but Sirius beamed at you feeling slightly bolder in the face of (reluctant) agreement on your part, standing from his chair.

“You won’t regret it! I’ll meet you in the courtyard, Saturday morning – 10 am!” He called as he walked backwards towards his friends, only stumbling into one stray chair on his way.

Sirius could tell you were fighting the urge to smile or laugh, and even though you would have been laughing at him, it still felt like a win in his books. 

The Hogsmeade date was a success. In fact, you had to admit it was one of the best dates you’ve ever been on. You had been friendly enough with Sirius from your shared classes and such – but your interactions had never exceeded as much as a polite “hello” from either party. You always figured that was for the best – considering those who found themselves to be too familiar with the Marauders were often victims of their many pranks. 

You only knew the Sirius Black that the rest of the school knew:

Mischief maker, Gryffindor, quidditch beater, flirt, a player, and anti-all-the-things-that-his-family-stood-for. Some of those things were bad, whilst others were good. But you had no idea that this Sirius Black existed.

The Sirius Black that was an amazing listener, who held doors open and pulled chairs out for you, who made you feel as though every word coming out of your mouth was the most fascinating thing he ever heard, who could make you laugh until your stomach hurt, who seemed to be able to fill any lull in the conversation with ease. 

You hated to admit it, but…you sort of liked this Sirius Black. 

After a nice day of window shopping, actual shopping, butterbeer’s and scenic strolls through the picturesque town, you made your way back to Hogwarts. Sirius bid you farewell by kissing your knuckles (you actually think you might have swooned a little bit) and asked if you’d be so inclined to make this a “regular thing.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You tried to say noncommittally, though you were sure the grin on your face gave away your enthusiasm. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” He asked as he walked backwards towards his friends, face turning a little shy.

You couldn’t help but take the piss for it. “We live in the same castle, Black. I’m sure you’ll see me tomorrow.”

“Cheeky minx.” He called back, though his face remained soft as he shot a wink at you before turning towards his friends.

You started to head towards the castle but watched as Remus pat him on the back and James’ cheered at his friend’s reunion. 

Before you got too far away, you overheard a part of their conversation. Remus asked if he had enjoyed himself, James asked if the two of you were going to do it again, but it was what you heard Peter say that made your heart drop to your stomach.

“So? Was the bet worth it, did you have a nice time?”

A bet…had a nice time, because of a bet?

He made a bet…he asked you out…because of a bet.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You knew better.

You felt sick, you felt foolish, you felt betrayed.

He really was a player; he really was a flirt. He made you feel so special today, and it was all just an act? 

How could you be so naïve?

How could you have believed his whole “I’ve been so nervous to ask you out” bit. You’ve seen him at parties – you’ve seen him with other girls.

You were such an idiot. 

Sirius had really enjoyed himself yesterday. He had to continuously wipe his hands on his jeans as they were clammy with nerves all day, but generally he felt he handled himself okay. 

At least, as good as could be considering he’d completely lost the ability to keep his fucking cool around a pretty girl. 

So, maybe he hadn’t been as smooth as he normally was. But he didn’t think he’d been so bad as to have elicited this reaction from you.

You barely spared him a glance as you marched past him in the Great Hall the following morning, shouldering him as you headed to sit with your friends.

You…you had enjoyed yourself yesterday, right? When the two of you parted, you’d actually expressed interest in seeing him again.

So, why were you ignoring him?

He figured perhaps you just hadn’t noticed him or mistaken him for someone else or some other such thing as he took his place at the Gryffindor table, but not before he spared one more glance at you. 

You looked painfully dejected and one of your friends placed a comforting hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. She was also glaring at Sirius.

What had he done? 

He had gotten up to go over and ask you, but if he thought he had been intimidated to talk to you before – his intimidation was increased ten-fold at the withering glares your friends all cast at him.

He’d just have to find a chance to chat with you alone.

That chance never came, however, as you seemed to have an entourage escorting you to all of your classes that Monday.

But by the following evening, he couldn’t take it anymore – wouldn’t take it anymore. He’d had a nice time, dammit! And he wanted to enjoy time with you again!

“Are you lost, Black?” One of your friends goaded him as he approached your table in the library. He sucked in a steadying breath as he focused his sights on you. You, who sat unbelievably tense but still never lifted your head from your quill and notebook.

“Y/N? Could we talk for a moment?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Another friend answered for you.

As politely as he could – which was becoming increasingly difficult due to his frayed nerves – he addressed your friend. “With all due respect, Bones, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“No, you were talking to Y/N, right? Why? Did your friends make another bet with you?” She sneered.

Sirius felt his heart fall out of his arse.

He scoffed in disbelief. “You…you mean Pete’s bet?”

You laughed humourlessly and threw your quill down in front of you. “Why? Was there more than one bet, Black?” You spat, finally turning to face him. He was horrified to see your eyes were red and glassy – you were close to crying. 

“No! No, Circe, I-”

“Oh good,” your friend said sarcastically, “there was only one bet. Guess that’s not so bad then.”

“Y/N, please, you have to listen I-”

“Whoa, what’s going on here?” James said as he moved towards Sirius, apparently only having just arrived in the library. Sirius was sort of horrified to notice that some of the surrounding students had turned in their chairs to witness the ultimate downfall of Sirius Black.

That’s right - fuck being formally and officially disowned by his family – this was the undoing of Sirius Orion Black.

“What’s going on is Y/N found out about your lot’s stupid bet.” Your friend announced. Sirius could feel James’ confused face beside him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face as he watched a single tear roll down your cheek. 

“Pete’s bet?” James asked dumbly.

“Yes! Yes, Pete’s bet!” Sirius shouted. He got down on his knees and kneeled in front of you, willing your eyes to him. You denied him the sight, but he supposed he sort of deserved as such. “Pete’s bet, Y/N, to finally get me to stop being a sodding coward and ask you out.” He offered, albeit much more quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t mean to intrude but I can assure you that’s really all it was.” James offered with a pained grimace from where he stood behind Sirius’ crouched form. “We’d been so tired of him convincing us all to hang out in the sodding library just so he could stare at you and never do anything about it. Took us weeks to get him to even start saying hello to you.”

You looked at James, eyebrows furrowing which seemed to cause more tears to fall.

“That makes no sense. I’m not that scary.” You cried.

“No,” Sirius agreed, “you’re just that pretty. That special. That lovely and kind. You’re not scary but you were really intimidating. I was so afraid of botching the whole thing – looks like I kind of did that anyway, huh?”

You were finally looking at him, and Sirius relished in the sight of your eyes meeting his once again, even if they were filled with hurt and tears. He took your two hands in his and ran his thumbs along the backs of your knuckles.

“I begged you for one chance, Y/N. I have no problem begging you for a hundred more. I swear to you, one of these times I’ll get it right.” He promised.

You stared at him for a moment longer before laughing wetly. “Gods, I’m sorry for being so cold. I…I really thought-”

But he cut you off by shaking his head. “I think you were justified. I would have been hurt if I’d overheard that I’d only been asked out on account of a bet. But I promise, it was not malicious.” 

You nodded in understanding and pulled on of your hands away from Sirius’ to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

“Gods I feel so silly.”

“Let me make it up to you.” Sirius barked quickly. “Right now, come with me. Please?”

You looked at him confusedly for a moment before nodding your head and looking back to your friends. One of them still seemed slightly miffed, so conceded to letting him steal you away from them though she didn’t let you part without shooting him a few more withering glares. 

No matter, Sirius would have time to win over your friends.

Right now, he was more worried about winning you over. And hopefully keeping you this time. 

To start, he’d spend the rest of the night snuggled up to you under stolen blankets from the Gryffindor common room while the two of you watched the stars from the Astronomy tower.

Well, you watched the stars; he spent the evening watching admiring you.

He’d make sure you never felt like the butt of some joke ever again – not if he could help it.

[winx-reimagined]

Masterlist

Bloom is kind, quiet, and reserved, but hot-headed. She’s quick to socialize when given the chance, but for the most part she isn’t approached. Her closed off appearance, and messy, spiky red hair usually wards people off. So pre-Alfea, she tends to spend time alone drawing and taking walks, or helping her mother out at her flower shop.

She tends to be an over-thinker and quite emotional, but her negative feelings often blow over into anger or annoyance pushing her to take time for herself. At the beginning of the series she tends to be quite immature, not taking time to resolve conflicts and instead choosing to ignore it or blame others. Despite that, she has a strong knack for calling people out, often speaking harsh truths when it’s needed most.

As a kid she was always told stories about fairies, dragons, and knights by her father. But despite her father long since stopping in telling such bedtime stories, glimpses of fairies and peculiar encounters kept her belief strong even though she’s 16 years old. In school, this passionate belief would often get her in trouble with teachers or bullied by her peers. She doesn’t openly tell people her beliefs anymore, but some of her childhood classmates still make fun of her for it, like Mitzi.

Growing up she didn’t have that many friends, especially not close ones. Except for Selina, who was the only one who also believed in such fairytales. But a sudden move would cut their friendship short. And her first boyfriend, Andy, had drifted away when he began to focus on his music more than her. Near the end of 8th grade she was given Kiko; she’s had him for about 3 years now.

When she first met Stella, they were attacked by Knut and it awakened something in her. Before she was sent to Earth, Daphne cast a rune on her so Bloom’s powers nor her natural features would come into fruition. Not unless broken, whether magically or physically. And it just so happens tons of concrete fell on top of her.

After she finds out about her true origins, she questioned whether or not she should find her parents. To which she concludes it’s best left alone, that is, until her sister Daphne dies. And with her last breath, she told Bloom to find their parents.

Artworks.

Older-works.

Trivia & headcanons.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Other than being a powerful fairy, Bloom still wants to be a well-known artist. Eventually moving from pencils & water-based markers to sculpting and painting. Making statues that are cleverly engineered to move, spreading magic through more sentimental means. Even though she cannot sculpt and can barely paint.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Her Western Zodiac is Sagittarius.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Her Eastern Zodiac is in the year of the Rabbit.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Bloom is a spiritualist.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Her birth-name are references to dragons of myth and associated places;

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Lilith’s earliest appearance is in Sumeria (and the mythology I’m specifically referencing, not Lilith in the bible). She’s identified as a wind spirit, which Bloom originally was going to be fairy of. She’s described as a wild, free spirit/ She also has an affinity for dragons, which of one she owns and can manifest into.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ T’ai Shan is a referenes to the Green Jade Mother in chinese myth, the Jade Emperor’s sister, who is also known as the Old Lady of T’ai Shan, which is her sacred mountain.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ She’d love to train with the specialists since she’s always loved knights and sword-fighting.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Bloom hates how spikey and crazy her hair is.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Some of her extended family on her mother’s side have or had red hair, freckles, and blue eyes so she didn’t question why she didn’t look like her parents.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Bloom loved the feeling of being Dark Bloom / Gloom, but hated the mindset, the lack of self-control, and her impulsiveness. In some ways she misses being Dark Bloom, and she hates that she misses her.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ She’s bisexual with a preference for women, which she discovers while at Alfea.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Her first crush and rejection was Selina. Bloom thought it was her confession that made Selina move away.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ She was born with black fingernails that grow quickly.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ After her first transformation, her dragon features became permanent. She loves how unique they are but hate how creepy her eyes can be. For a while, her friends and even her boyfriend would avoid eye contact with her. The only people that looked her in the eye was Faragonda & Icy.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ After Diaspro and her makeup, Diaspro developed a fat crush on Bloom and would constantly follow her around. At first Bloom thought it was cute but then it got really annoying. It did help her realize she preferred women though.

[strayheartless]

lol thanks for entertaining all my witch poly posts. I told u I'd be obsessing over it

how often does the boys magic work? anyone whose "more powerful" than the other?

lol I made a joke earlier with my friend who I was obsessing the post over with. you wrote that Cloud cursed all their bullied and I was like "imagine he's sitting on the floor, voodoo dolls in hand and genesis'curse book and pouting"

HA! Omg yesssss. Cloud having a full lilo and stitch moment where Rude ad Rino comes to see Zack or Sephiroth or something and Rude finds Cloud on the floor with a jar full of spoons with sad faces on them and Clouds only explanation is “my friends need to be punished.”

But to answer your question. It’s a mixed answer. Technically speaking Genesis is the most skilled practitioner. They’ve been practicing this kind of magic for years (since they were 14 maybe) and study is Gens thing. They are not actually a vampire, they just looks like they should be so people assume theyve been practicing for way longer.

But in terms of who has more natural talent? Cloud. Cloud does things he can’t explain all the time and nine times out of ten his spells just kind of work by accident.

They all have their areas though:

For Sephiroth’s it’s physical magic, he uses his body as a conduit so things like yoga and meditation and manifestation are how he casts. He focuses on positive energy most of the time but Seph has learned his body is a powerful instrument and if you hurt his family he’s not afraid to ask the gods of war for their help.

For Angeal it’s cooking. He puts a lot of effort into mixtures and the right ingredients. Usually there are runes and things carved into gourds and pastry. If Angeal offers you food just… just be careful. He puts a lot of passion into his spells and if you choke on the first bite, stop eating.

For Genesis it’s charms and summoning. A lot of things speak to Genesis, and sometimes they don’t always want to hear it. They wear a lot of wards and make the others wear them too. Zacks constantly finding little warding scrolls in his clothes and when he asks about them Gen will say “somethings following you” which is fucking unnerving but Zacks learned Gen is more freaked out then he is a lot of the time.

For Cloud it’s pretty much anything but crystals and physical spells like spell bags and witch bottles are his go to. He tends to work closely with Angeal to grow things and with Gen to plan spells. He’s the newest as it but his sheer natural talent makes almost anything work. Problem with Cloud is he tends to forget to call the corners and cast circles so sometimes his work is a little too much. This has since been rectified by the others containing it.

Zack has a little magic of his own too. It’s called goth witch impulse control. And it works like a charm.

Gens about to set something on fire trying to banish things that bother them? Cheek pets and let them cry.

Angeals planning to poison someone? Gently holds his wrists and explains why that would be bad.

Sephs about to manifest a meteor to crush a work colleague that was rude to Zack? Brush his hair and explain why that’s called massive retaliation and it’s not actually relative to the size of the incident.

Clouds about to inflict terrible revenge on someone who was cruel to him? “Baby what happened? No no we don’t need to do that, put the herbs down just come and talk to me.”

Zack is… truely the most powerful in the house.

[liliallowed]

Are leviathans territorial creatures?

Also why does Crimson fight other leviathans?

some are extremely territorial while other traverse around the depths just constantly on the move.

they're many different shapes and sizes to them. some even go as far down as the seafloor, (they look more like centipedes instead of fish)

as for why crimson fights, they're mischievous and crafty. sometimes it's just for them to test their strength and sometimes it's a matter of pride. other times they are on a mission to uncover some buried history.

crimson STEALS food and treasures from the other leviathans and hoards it all in their maze of a nest. maybe snack off the deep dwellers making the corpse of fallen leviathans, or steal GLOWEY SHINY MAGIC ORB thingy they don't really need but just like to collect. it might seem like the depths get more Claustrophobic and smaller as one goes deeper but due to past volcanic activity and vents it actually gets WIDER.

there's an entire world of darkness down there. luckily crimson doesn't need to worry much about death or losing direction (their tail is quite lengthy and it does give them a sense of 'left and right for them to navigate based on their former position.")

there's some really cool buried technological magic gizmos down there. they keep digging for scrap after hearing of a device capable of shrinking leviathans to human size. (oddly specific function. they wonder if the leviathan who owned it bullied the ancient fallen civilization into making him that bracelet.)

(it's a reference/Easter egg to another utau siren fic. if yk yk)

they haven't had much luck with finding relevant stuff but they have uncovered a LOT of weird ancient runes and weirdass symbols they don't understand. whatever technology was behind it, the people who used it are long gone.

they also do actually find bigger leviathans down there... there's ALWAYS a bigger fish. always.

even if they can't die, being eaten alive isn't pleasant. they'd rather not.