#wip: magically inclined

[murdockdevil-newblog]

Title: How I Met Your Witch. Prompt: ... For: Was for an October prompt event but i didn't finish it, so i'm now posting this cause I thought it was cute. Who: Caesar Kane (OC) & Cassian Barakzai (OC) Wip: Magically Inclined Notes: Caesar meets Cassian when Cassian's lost cat shows up at her cafe. They meet. Words: 501

Caesar Kane watches intently as a little black cat scratches its paws against the back of her cafe's sofa. As much as she'd like to throw a fit about it, the little guy is cute and it isn't exactly doing any harm. So, she doesn't do anything to it. She just lets it do its thing, it deciding to lounge on the sofa, opposed to scratching it anymore — her watching, curiously, wondering what it would be like to be a cat.

She's so lost in her own thoughts that she avoids noticing the dark-haired woman —- who she doesn't know is a real witch —- who walks into the cafe with a look of irritation in her brown eyes. "Oi," the dark haired witch says looking at her with narrowed eyes. "What's my cat doing here?"

Caesar does not even budge at her voice. She's used to having irritable customers. It's just another Monday to her. "I don't know, it was bored?" she states a little bored herself, looking at her like it's not her problem, before she looks at the cat who's walking in their owner's direction. When it reaches them, it prrs against its owner's legs and the witch picks up her cat. "Bored?" The witch asks, perplexed. She looks at the cat, and then right at Caesar who still looks bored, herself. "Were you bored, Terry?" The cat prrs louder. "I suppose he was."

Caesar sighs, right before she reaches out to touch the cat. It does not hiss at her. Instead, it prrs against her touch and its owner smiles. "Terry's a weird name for a cat. Sounds a little too human," Caesar says, casually.

The witch shrugs with only one shoulder, before she states. "That's because he's not just any cat — he used to be a person." The witch replies. She watches as Caesar continues to pet the cat, and the thing finally pulls away.

"Well, it's better than my name," Caesar comments, suddenly realizing how beautiful this woman is. She's got pale skin, jet black hair, and cheekbones that can cut through marble. She also has catlike brown eyes that are as alert as the cat's. She picks up on the comment, but like irritable customers walking in, she's used to people saying odd things.

"What's your name then? My name's Cassian," the witch introduces, using a freehand to shake, then resting the arm she's not using.

Caesar chuckles. "Caesar," she says casually, "It's nice to meet you, Cassian and Terry." She shakes the beautiful woman's hand and smiles at her, softly — impressed by meeting another woman with a name that's usually a man's. "Nice to meet you, too. Thanks for letting my little guy stay here for a while." Cassian says this just as casually as Caesar had said her own name.

"What did you mean by he 'used to be a person'?" she asks the witch, finally, even though she's used to it, but still not aware of the fact that she's a real witch.

The witch winks at her. Uses the cat's paw to wave at her. "We have to go — maybe I'll explain it another day, yeah?" she replies, and then she turns to leave out the door.

Caesar is still confused. So she mumbles, "Used to be human," under her breath, before looking at where the cat had been laying. "Why do the attractive people always have to be a bit weird?" Now bored, since there was no cat there to watch, she hums to herself and waits for her next customer.

[murdockdevil-remade]

Let’s gooo 📂 📂 📂

@korblez thank you for sending!

martina Roscoe in marta and the diner

Due to her relationship with time, Marta noticed she could stop time at a very young age. However, by doing so, sometimes she’d get stuck in a time loop. This scared her and her mother whenever she came out of the time loop. This was no surprise to her mother though, since her father’s brother was gifted with the same ability and he could stop time and occasionally travel through it. But she was still worried she’d lose Marta to a time loop. Something that they avoided by having Marta take pills to numb her powers down. The issue was, instead of eliminating the problem, the problem became worse and she ended up time traveling. So, Marta ended up being taught how to control her ability a little better by her uncle.

Luna Rosano in 'all these things'

Luna is a fake party psychic who actually turns out to be a real psychic. Only issue is she doesn't realize this until she's in a situation where she has to use her psychic ability to prove that she's psychic to get out of a situation she put herself in where she lied about being psychic. Which is a whole situation. But she ends up saving herself from getting got, because she actually was psychic the whole time, she just didn't know it. She just had to tap into the ability in a near death situation.

Cassian Barakzai in 'magically inclined'

She owns a cursed objects shop. since a lot of the time she goes about retrieving cursed objects for people, she sorta just took it upon herself to open up a shop where she doesn’t really sell the objects unless she undoes their curses. and even then she gets good business because people just like spooky stuff.

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut, final day ( and still TECHNICALLY in before midnight!! ); “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Well, we’ve arrived at your final resting place, Mr. Kent and young Mr. Kent,” Alfred informs them mildly as he turns off into the driveway up to Wayne Manor, which absolutely cannot actually be the local Bruce Wayne’s actual base of operations. Kon doesn’t care if the dude thinks he’s a version of Clark, there is no Batman who would just bring a couple of strange Kryptonians home without at least locking some blue K on them, whether one of them is a scared ten year-old or not, and the local blue kryptonite won’t even work on them! 

Except the moment the car stops in front of the front door and he can focus his TTK without the wheels spinning blurring anything, he absolutely can in fact feel the Batcave and all the connected cave systems that are sprawling underneath the place and clearly, like, functional and active. 

Really, he could feel that even through the wheels, they weren’t going anywhere near fast enough to actually blur his senses, but he just assumed he was somehow hallucinating that or something. Except he is definitely not, because he definitely does feel it. His X-ray vision is blocked by lead-heavy mineral deposits and there’s soundproofing and temperature control in the way of his super-hearing and infrared vision and knowing Batman there’s probably some random magic shit he got Zatanna to set up mixed in there, but his TTK can still feel a very obvious Batcave down there without even trying. 

Which, like–TTK is not really a power most people know to plan for or know how to plan for, given it’s basically just him and Match who have any remotely-developed versions of it and Match’s is kinda fucked-up with some of the degradation issues and all, and even red sun and kryptonite don’t totally cancel it out–plus those both have to be directed at him to do anything anyway, not his TTK itself–so like, yeah, in a reality where he maybe does not even actually exist–apparently does not even actually exist–prooooobably the local Batman did not ever solve that particular puzzle, no. 

This is definitely a trap. This has gotta be a trap. 

Alfred gets out and opens the car door for them with a polite incline of his head and Kon gets absolutely zero bad vibes off him, and has literally no idea what the fuck is going on with this weird-ass reality. 

“Okayyyyy,” he says slowly, and gets out of the car. Jon gets out behind him and grabs the back of his jacket, pressing up close against his back. Alfred closes the door; gives them both a pleasant little smile. 

“Allow me to get the door,” he says as he heads for said door, and also: “Earl Grey or oolong?” 

“Assam,” Kon says at the exact same time as Jon–zero percent surprisingly–says “Ceylon,” because all else aside, that was absolutely a test. Alfred never serves a guest Earl Grey unless he wants them to fuck off immediately and can’t be trusted to make oolong without putting milk in it, which is a crime against a drink that Kon doesn’t even particularly like but also a crime that he absolutely cannot handle right now. 

“Of course, sirs,” Alfred says, sparing them both a briefly thoughtful look before opening the door and holding it for them. Kon doesn’t really know what to take from that; did the guy expect something different? 

. . . actually, what does Clark drink when he comes over, Kon genuinely does not even know, he has been in the Batcave maybe four or five times max, and basically every single one was an apocalypse-level scenario that Batman was not actually on-planet for, except for the one time it was an apocalypse-level scenario that Kon was the only Kryptonian-class heavy-hitter who was League-vetted on-planet for. Which sure had been . . . an experience, as an experience. Like, a very weird and annoying and frustrating experience. Also Luthor’d already hacked his comms earlier that day to say some snide bullshit and try to boss him around about how to deal with said apocalypse, so that hadn’t really helped with his mood at the time either. 

But yeah, either way, he’s definitely never drunk Bat-tea with Clark. He’s pretty sure he’s only seen the dude drink coffee or whatever Ma’s got the kettle, in fact. So like, god knows what Alfred’s even thinking right now, because given Kon’s luck he either picked the exact thing Clark always drinks or something Clark just straight-up fucking hates. 

Probably the latter, given, again, Kon’s luck. 

This is totally a Bat-trap and they are totally gonna die here and he is totally gonna be embarrassed as fuck about it, he thinks resignedly, and then just heads into the manor with Jon still basically clinging to his back and seeming nervous again. 

“Thanks, man,” he says to Alfred, and then feels–

Oh, okay. That’s actually even weirder, Kon thinks, and tips back his head to blink up at the landing at the top of the entryway stairs where a presumably-local-but-who-knows Dick Grayson is leaning over the railing with a delighted grin on his face along with the “even weirder” sight that is a Jason standing next to him and squinting down at them speculatively. Like, a Jason in civilian clothes and the actual manor, not in vigilante-grade kevlar and the Batcave.  And like, he’s a lot less ripped than Kon’s version of the dude–like way more slender and maybe even a few inches shorter, which: what the fuck?–but he’s undeniably a Jason Todd. 

Also his hair’s black? Like. Fully black, no white streak or anything? 

So yeah, weird, Kon notes. 

Alright, well, maybe somebody’ll explain why there’s a Jason Todd who’s apparently willingly here to him after the local Batman shows up so he can explain himself to the whole Bat-belfry at once as opposed to having to go through multiple repeats of the same information and also, again, just in case this reality or this Bruce Wayne happen to be clone-racists or what the fuck ever or just have any opinions about “biological determinism” or any bullshit like that. Because that is still very much a conversation he wants to have in person and not–

“Oh my god, has Dad seen you yet?” Dick asks with a gleeful cackle, leaning even farther forward over the railing, and Kon blinks, a little startled. 

“You call him Dad?” he asks in reflexive bemusement, and Dick snickers at the question and folds his arms on the railing with an artful shrug. 

“Well, not in front of Vicki Vale and her peers or anyone with a recording device, but yeah,” he replies easily. “Take it your personal reality’s a couple decades behind ours, though.” 

“Actually–” Kon starts, though he has literally no idea how he’s gonna finish, but Jason’s already leaning forward too, bracing his hands on the rail and wrinkling his nose with a dubious expression. 

“Jesus fuck, who let twunk Uncle Clark wear designer?” he snorts. 

. . . okay then. 

“My date to the gala I was at before the multiverse got drunk and fell off its ass bought it for me,” Kon replies incredibly, incredibly dryly. Dick and Jason both blink in their own obvious bemusement, their heads cocking in opposite directions. 

“Your date bought it for you,” Dick repeats slowly. “For a Gotham gala.” 

“Yeah,” Kon says. 

“How the fuck did Aunt Lo afford that getup?” Jason asks, looking even more bemused. 

“She did not,” Kon says, because fuck it, whatever. “Like, Lois is cool and all but I could not handle her. Also, she is very, very married to both her Pulitzer and her husband. But my boyfriend's love language is 'spending his vast family fortune on unnecessary amounts of gift-giving', so like, not so much a concern?” 

“Your boyfriend?” Jason repeats incredulously, and Jon frowns in confusion and peers up at Kon’s face. 

“You’re not dating Mom yet?” he asks. “Mom married somebody? And you date–boys? That’s, like–okay?” 

“It is very okay, actually, but I reiterate: I am not Superman,” Kon says with a sigh as he gives the kid’s head a heavy pat, given it’s about the eightieth time he’s said it by now. “But also I don't wanna explain myself to every single Bat in the belfry one by one, so could we maybe convene somewhere and I can riff up a metaphorical Power Point or something?” 

“Uncle Clark, are you dating our dad?” Dick demands, looking torn between further delight and low-key horror. Kon stares at him. 

Alright, he probably brought that one on himself, considering. 

[aethon-recs]

30 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — One-Shot Edition (Part 2)

2024 recs continued! Here's a round-up of some of the most compelling one-shots that I came across in 2024 that I hope showcases the diversity of talent in our ship across a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings 🤍

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in 2024. Can be read in 1 sitting. Overall for 2024, I've split up the year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics. 

The 3rd and last part of this list (WIPs/Longfics updated in 2024) will be posted soon. Happy reading!

*

A Moment of Curiosity (or Weakness) by koel7 (E, 6k, complete)

“I’m having these dreams,” Harry says. “You’re in every one of them. I think you’ve been in them for a long time, I just didn’t know it was you.” Tom inclines his head, and Harry sees the red eyes. He sees deathly, pale skin, and a flash of green light. “Do you remember?”

a pale horse by @ictyn (E, 7k, complete)

Harry, a penniless orphan, struggles to survive under the superstitious judgement of his isolated puritan community. One day, a vile omen is left before the church, an omen which portends only doom. The elders choose to cast Harry out, sending him as a sacrifice to a crumbling castle. The Dark Lord waits within, ravenous for the taste of his blood and the sweetness of his soul.

A Prank Unlike Any Other by A_Single_Cactus (E, 2k, complete)

It was April Fools’ Day. Harry decides to prank Riddle by acting differently. He decides to act nice. It doesn’t go as planned.

Adhesion by @telelli-writes (T, 5k, complete)

Overachieving sixth-year prefect Tom Riddle is on the fast track to be Head Boy next year, a Department Head by thirty, and Minister for Magic by forty. Harry Potter, Quidditch star and the most popular boy in school, doesn't factor anywhere into those plans or Tom's life. Until Professor Slughorn pairs the two of them together on a Potions project.

bad guy by @circleofplanets (M, 5k, complete)

Considered the power couple of Hogwarts, Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry James Potter have been the topic of interest ever since they got together. A series of interviews getting close and personal with their friends and their outsider perspective on the famed couple.

Blood of the Covenant by @solelyseeking (E, 10k, complete)

Perhaps more than Parseltongue ran through Tom's veins. The Gaunts carried a hunger in their blood- not just for power, as is their right- but for each other. Tom thinks of the way their legacy had dripped from Harry's tongue, later that night, as his wrist works beneath the covers. He feels no shame for his urges. Tradition is sacred, after all. And Tom had always wanted a family.

Consume by @known-concepts (E, 4k, complete)

Something goes awry during Voldemort's resurrection, the balances of life and death are upset, and there is only one way to fix it.

cult classic by @aitafrog (G, 3k, complete)

For his whole life, Harry’s been looking forward to leaving behind the Dursleys and making his own fresh start. He’d envisioned endless opportunities ahead of him, with countless ways of reinventing himself. But for all of his daydreams and plans, he never quite imagined his fresh start involving the infamous cult leader Tom Riddle.

Customer Service by lilacscented (T, 6k, complete)

Furious at Borgin & Burkes’ blatant false advertising and shoddy customer service, Harry spends his Christmas Eve on a quest for Justice. Tom, meanwhile, is just punching the clock for some holiday pay. Both of them end up getting more than they bargained for.

deadbolt by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)

Tom is stunning at sixteen. He has always been an exception in a sea of mediocrity, a chameleon of sorts, conducting himself with the arrogance of genius astride the pity of orphanhood. Each facet of Tom Riddle is a domino on the path of Voldemort; it is up to you to divert them. Or: Harry goes back in time again, and again, and again.

don't blame the stork by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (T, 10k, complete)

Harry feels a little adrift after the war, so Magic decides he needs a baby, Magical Britain decides he needs to be Minister, and Voldemort decides he needs some company.

Eternal Hunt by @metalomagnetic (E, 3k, complete)

Harry wants to be good. Tom wants Harry.

Fearsome Thing by @0p4l3sc3nc3 (NR, 13k, complete)

It was him. The angel. "P-pleased to meet you," Tom murmured, and then cursed his tongue for the stutter, and his throat for the raspy tone of his voice, and his heart for being a traitor. And the angel—Harry, he had to remember that name now, it was of utmost importance—smiled at him. "The pleasure is mine.”

Heartbeats by @cyandenial (T, 10k, complete)

Harry Potter, a medical student, volunteered to help in St Mungo's hospital for the summer, to gain extra credits and some practical experience. He was assigned to look over one old man, a task no one wanted, because Tom Riddle wasn’t making it easy for anyone. His horrible attitude brought about every nurse to tears, and Harry was determined not be among those who cried. To everyone's surprise, he managed somehow… Until he didn't.

his love life and death by @noctelier (T, 5k, complete)

Tom Riddle doesn’t get sick. His immune system, just like the rest of him, is extraordinary. Incomparable. No one would dare suggest otherwise. Which is why everyone goes silent when he starts to cough. Or: Tom contracts Hanahaki Disease, knows what he must do about it, and decides he’s better than all that (until he doesn’t).

Ho, Ho, Ho by @moontearpensfic (E, 3k, complete)

Tom's parents take him shopping at the mall, where he scopes out snake paraphernalia and a Santa Claus with pretty green eyes.

if the moon should ever doubt by @fericide (M, 6k, complete)

They meet in the Astronomy Tower.

Mistletoe Managed by @tommarvoloriddlesdiary (T, 3k, complete)

“What’s so bad about magical mistletoe?” Harry asks. Hermione sighs, “Well, magical mistletoe won’t let a person go until they share a heartfelt kiss... So he'll be there a while.”

O Come, All Ye Faithful by @shyinsunlight (E, 3k, complete)

The sanctity of midnight mass requires dignity, composure, and absolutely not dropping the thurible when Harry fucking Potter walks in fifteen minutes late. Harry, who hasn’t darkened the church door since last Easter, and who’s apparently decided Christmas Eve is the perfect time to make his triumphant return to worship.

paint your eyes with sunsets by @boyneptunee (T, 5k, complete)

Tom moves to a new apartment building where he more or less gets himself a boyfriend and a family. Oh, and there's also a cat.

Resonating Souls by @endlessburningdarkness (E, 4k, complete)

Minister Riddle has an unusually dream filled night.

Roughly 19 Years Later by @dividawrites (E, 2k, complete)

Platform 9¾ is a nice place for reunions.

seven by lilacscented (T, 7k, complete)

Harry meets Tom Riddle on the first day of school. He has just turned seven. “So you’re like me,” he says, a statement, not a question. “Meet me in the woods later this afternoon.”

Soil by @ratzeebatz (T, 11k, complete)

The thing about Tom, and many people were aware of this, is that he had a combination of traits that made him both dangerous and infinitely appealing to anyone that spoke to him.  Or: Tom Riddle is a murderous herbologist, and Harry smells better than anything he's smelled before.

stumbling into wonderful by @satflesk22 (E, 5k, complete)

The Ministry sees fit to meddle at Hogwarts in an attempt at curtailing rising pureblood sentiments, to try and lure prospective recruits away from the Dark Lord Nott. Unsurprisingly, the Heir of Slytherin is stuck together in a room with the Chosen One. The worst part is that it bloody works.

The Betrayal (and Boon) of One's Own Biology by @riverxsong-ao3 (E, 7k, complete)

Tom Riddle had always known he was destined for greatness. As a young wizard, he was certain he would present one day as an Alpha - strong, powerful, in charge. When he did not, he came to accept that he must, in fact, be a Beta. Then, one day, everything changed.

The Descent by @chaos-bear (E, 5k, complete)

Secrets, grief and blood magic collide in the depths of the Austrian Alps.

The Good Knight by @mosiva (E, 9k, complete)

Harry and Tom drifted apart at Hogwarts, and Harry hasn’t seen Tom in years as she’s off travelling the world. But Harry doesn’t have time to be sad about it. She’s got problems closer to home – like helping the Order of the Phoenix to combat the recent rise of one Lord Voldemort.

the thing lay dead by @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

In the end, there was one body that all refused to touch. It unnerved people to see even the corpse. Harry tended to him, this man made mortal. Smooth, alabaster skin and thin, brittle bones. Peaceful in death as he had never been in life. No longer a monster. Now a body, just like everyone else.

this is my persona, secret lover (he's my collar) by souliloquium (M, 3k, complete)

Some things are the same, some things are different. Harry is not the Boy Who Lived. He still finds the locket. And Tom finds him.

We Bow to Each Other, Harry by @liquidluckandstuff (T, 4k, complete)

Harry falls asleep with the Horcrux around his neck and has a very strange dream.

When the Weight is Gone by @marrythemonstersao3 (M, 7k, complete)

In the quiet after the war is over, Harry feels the empty space in his soul like a missing limb. Eventually, his grief and longing come to a head when Death offers him a choice: to move on for good, or go back and do it over again.

*

[greenapplespider]

Wip of Ellen from my dark fantasy story Blood in Moderation (lore master post). Within the setting, life mages are those with innate magical inclination to manipulate life energy, it is considered a naturally occurring form of blood magic. Ellen can use both the blood and/or soul of another living being (or even herself) to heal wounds or grow plants.

This affinity is considered a rarity, as most healing mages don’t have it and have to study the craft for years to become proficient. With most relying heavily on alchemy to hone their spells.

On the inverse, elemental and offensive spells- especially those of fire, lightning, electromagnetic, telekinesis etc- are skills which elude her. But she doesn’t mind- she quite content talking to the trees. (More character lore and world building will be with the finished drawing)

[mirrorballpages]

Elriel Headcannon: Azriel has been going to the library and working with Clotho to figure out the mating bond between Lucian & Elain, and why something feels so off about it.

From my next series, Ivy (WIP)

Azriel shadow-walked to the Library, the cool darkness folding around him as he emerged in the still, quiet halls. He didn’t have much time before his next meeting, but this couldn’t wait. Clotho was there when he arrived, as efficient and composed as always. She inclined her head in greeting, her parchment already writing.

“An interesting assortment of books you have requested. I have a few additional volumes requested from the Day Court. They should arrive in a few days.”

“Thank you for your assistance—and your discretion,” Azriel said, his voice low. He trusted Clotho implicitly, knowing she wouldn’t breathe a word of his search to anyone.

“As always,” the parchment replied with her graceful script. With a wave of her hand, a stack of books appeared on the table before him, their spines worn with age and knowledge.

“I have marked the chapters I think will be the most informative,” Clotho added.

Azriel nodded. “Thank you.” His shadows moved forward, curling around the books and lifting them carefully.

“I’ll return in a few days for the rest,” he said, tucking the edge of his wing tighter against his back as he prepared to leave. Clotho nodded, but her parchment wrote again before he could turn away.

“I hope to meet her soon. Feyre has told me so much about her. I believe some of the priestesses would enjoy her company. A few have attempted to create an herb garden, but without enough light, the plants have not thrived.”

Azriel froze, her words rooting him to the spot. Her. How had Clotho suspected? He’d been so careful, kept his thoughts and intentions buried.

He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’m sure she would love to help.”

And she would. He could already imagine it—Elain lighting up at the opportunity, her eyes sparkling as she planned and nurtured the garden back to life. She always did that—brought life where there was none.

“She would light up this place,” he added quietly, almost to himself. And as he turned to leave, his shadows murmuring softly around him, he knew the truth of it. Elain had that rare power, that quiet magic. Wherever she went, she left the world brighter.

[crazylittlejester]

Godslayer for the wip game

It’s a Sky meets the chain fic I’ve been working on for literal months that definitely got taken off the back burner and just placed on the fucking counter for a bit alsmddk. Basically I just wanted to really highlight how while Sky is genuinely very sweet and kind, he has a certain Vibe to him thats almost unsettling and you can FEEL the power coming off him. He’s dangerous, but CHOOSES to be kind. And when some of the more magically inclined members of the chain feel the power coming off him they’re a bit wary of him, namely Time Wars and Legend

Warriors had been wary of Sky from the day he first met him. He’d been the last one to join the group, putting their numbers at nine now. The captain wasn’t fooled by the nineteen year old’s bright smiles or warm hugs, he could feel the ancient energy radiating off of him. He could sense he was in the presence of something older than the kingdom of Hyrule itself, something powerful and potentially dangerous.

Of course some of the others hadn’t believed him.

“Sky?” Wind scoffed, jabbing a thumb in the sky knight’s direction. The skyloftian was humming a sweet little melody, smiling to himself as he carved Wild a new cooking spoon.

“Wind, I’m telling you,” Warriors said, deathly serious. “He’s dangerous.”

i love sky he should be allowed to be sweet but also batshit

[snowywinterevenings]

Last Line Challenge

I was tagged by @anxiousotters. Here is a little bit from a fic that I found the beginning of in my WIP graveyard that has now overtaken my brain:

When the door opened again, Cody swore viciously and scrambled out of his bed, sending Boga flying with a displeased hiss as he backed against the wall and collapsed, his shaky legs unable to support him. A skeleton had marched into the room holding a tray, and its empty sockets stared at Cody as if he was some sort of curiosity. He heard a huff of laughter from the doorway and tore his eyes away from the intruder to find Obi-Wan watching him with a small smile on his lips.

“Apologies. I suppose I should have warned you about Arfour.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Arfour?”

Obi-Wan inclined his head toward the skeleton. “Arfour, or Attempted Reanimation Four, helps out around the manor.”

“You’re a necromancer?” Cody hated how his voice sounded and that his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest.

“Oh no, nothing so Dark as that. There is no soul attached to the bones. They can simply move around with the aid of the Force. Pulling souls from the Force and attempting to place them in a body is the sort of forbidden magic used by the Sith.”

“So you just stole someone’s bones and you’re not being haunted by their angry spirit?”

“I did not steal them. They were here when I arrived, and as I said, souls are not attached to bones. When someone passes away they become one with the Force.”

Open tags today because alas I must get ready for work. Share what you’re working on!

[dirty-bosmer]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @skyrim-forever and by @theoneandonlysemla @thequeenofthewinter @lady-iizsil last week. Thank you <3 As always I love seeing what everyone's working on :) posting before work and will catch up on lunch break heheh

Tagging: @justafoxhound @elavoria @ladytanithia @unironicallytes @gilgamish @tallmatcha @sheirukitriesfandom @lucien-lachance @stormbeyondreality @bostoniangirl21

Chipping away at chapter 2 of post-applewatch Lucien/Nim smutchaos. He's slowly discovering that his girlfriend is the Daedric Prince of Madness and he's uh... not happy about it :)

Mountain air and forest musk. Sharp sting of pine on wind-chafed skin. Past the battlements of Fort Farragut, the sunlight grasps at all it can touch, scours the world until it’s clean, gilded and glimmering. Lucien has seen enough of Tamriel to know that this is as close to paradise as he’ll ever be again, so he breathes it deep, permitting himself only a moment of idle fantasy, where alone, he dreams of the life that he’s since left behind. One with the security afforded by the familiar title of Speaker, one where he still knew with certainty what Sithis wanted of him. One where he didn’t question the power he’d rightfully earned. The life before he met her.  But now? Now as Listener, bearing the highest honor that can be bestowed, he’s become frayed, unfinished, a stranger to himself. Now when the Brotherhood needs him the most, doubt rots him at the root, hollows him out in the xylem. And it sickens him, revolts him, and he knows this isn’t him, knows in his bones that this weakness comes from powers beyond comprehension. Strange magic she's infected him with— she's changed. She changes him, for he has never been this man, and it’s her fault. Hers. The sin no prayer will deliver. The poison he’d have to let himself bloodless to relieve. Him and his Silencer who's no longer his Silencer, growing together like lichen, alike in that desire makes them even more frightening. How they want so completely. How their love consumes all. Even here, hundreds of miles from their home in Bravil, he can’t escape it. Trapped in the whirl of it, he watches himself orbit about her as if hovering a foot above his head. Lucien's fists strain against the railing, because he is the Listener; he is not this man. Duty comes before all and if she threatens it, she'll reap the consequence, and yet he knows, in his bones, that he'll return to her out of instinct, some animal inclination, by some foreign presence inside him. Inhuman and shapeless, unable to vanquish the final act of longing, he opens his heart to her like a fresh wound. Like something torn apart. 

It's them.

[tj-dragonblade]

🔍🔍 bloop

Thank you for making me put a few more words on this one! Follows on directly from the last snippet in the wip: search agency tag:

"And yet. It is my property, and I would have it back. Without paying for it again." "I feel for ya, buddy, but that ain't fair to me." The guy crosses his arms, squaring up to argue. Ordinarily Hob might feel inclined to step in, to mediate, but instinct stays him. This is not the item that Dream actually wants; he remembers very clearly Dream saying he was unconcerned with retrieving the gemstone and the 'headwear', that only the pouch truly mattered. So if this ruby is just a decoy, why insist on taking it back? He holds his tongue, lets Dream do whatever it is he's doing. Dream folds his arms, mirroring the proprieter. "Then let us find some compromise that is fair to us both," he says. "The woman who sold this to you. I have reason to believe she is in possession of other stolen goods of mine. I would like them back as well." "Sure you would," the guy says, nodding, his tone an obvious attempt to be sympathetic. "She was tryna sell a few things besides the gem; could be they were yours?" "A helmet, not unlike a gas mask in appearance, with a spine protruding from the front?" "Yeah, she had that. Almost bought it, what with the weird magical energy comin' off it, but I couldn't imagine actually unloading it to anyone and I didn't want it stuck in my hoard. Didn't feel right." "A wise decision," Dream agrees, and Hob doesn't miss the look that flashes over the dragon's face, a look that says he's not sure what kind of bullet he dodged by rejecting that sale and he's glad enough to never find out as Dream continues. "The other item is a small pouch full of enchanted sand." "She did have a pouch she tried to sell me; couldn't neither of us get it open, though, so don't know what was actually in it. Wasn't buyin' it unknown." "Do you know where she might have gone next to try fencing her goods?" Dream asks it with a tired note in his voice, a weary and defeated cast to his expression, and the dragon's whole demeanor softens just a little. "There's a lot of possibilities, yeah. I could maybe come up with a list, but—" He shrugs, seeming almost genuinely apologetic. "Then let me propose a trade," Dream says, unfolding his arms and placing both hands on the glass countertop. "Tell us everything you can about this woman—what she looks like, where she may have gone next, anywhere that would make a likely stop for selling stolen magical items. And I will relinquish my claim to the stone, withdraw my personal seal from it." "That's all you want?" The dragon sounds wary, like it's too good to be true. Hob thinks, given the size of that stone, that it probably is. But he's trusting Dream. Dream offers a wan smile. "There is greater value to me in retrieving my other property, even if it means the loss of this piece. You have already paid a great sum for it. Tell me anything you can of the one who sold it to you, of where she could feasibly attempt sales, and will let you keep what you have bought in gratitude. If I catch up to her, I can take the money from her in recompense." "Alright, okay. You got yourself a deal, my friend." The dragon holds out his hand to shake.

This needs some refinement yet but progress is progress.

[hyperions-light]

WIP Wednesday

Lots of people tagging for WIP Wednesday/ other writing games today! Thank you @mercars-musings @lottiesnotebook @thedissonantverses @biowaredisasterbisexual @fangbangerghoul and @erin-unknown <3

This will be in place of seven sentence/first sentence as well !

Well I did finally finish speak to me in the language of reverence this week, so go read that, if you want! I will pull something older for this week since I haven’t gotten back to work writing yet

Tagging @dymme @uchidachi @i-had-bucky @darethshirl @ofcrowsanddragons @bygonesigh @lurkiestvoid if you want to and you haven’t done it already!

Here is something from the first chapter of Death takes The Fool (unedited, don’t mind the mess), which will be the post-canon long fic with Leth:

They’re wandering a forest, somewhere. It almost seems like Arlathan, but more familiar; nostalgic. It reminds them of the sails of their clan’s aravels waving between tree trunks; it somehow smells of Antiva’s soil. They touch one of the trees; glittering, insubstantial, brilliant, and take a step. Suddenly, a clearing; suddenly, a wolf.

The Wolf.

“Solas?” they ask. “Is this real?”

“It is a dream,” he says, inclining his head, “but no less real for it. I wished to speak with you.”

He looks like a normal wolf, this time, and not that huge, kind of mangy-looking one he turned into in Minrathous. He even has the right number of eyes.

Rook tilts their head slightly, advancing into the clearing.

It’s quiet, peaceful. Wind finds paths through the trees, birds sing. The forest seems to breathe, as it does in reality. It is so calming that it makes them suspicious.

“Are you... how is this happening? I thought the connection between us was broken,” they say, wary.

“It is,” Solas confirms. “But it remains within my power to visit others in dreams. Considering the circumstances, I deemed it necessary.”

They regard him silently for a few more moments, then smile, sitting cross-legged in the grass before him.

“Well, since you’re here, I have to ask: how’s the Fade Jail? Better now, with Lavellan? Less gloomy and prison-y, I hope?”

“Rook—“ he says, somehow managing to convey exasperation as a wolf.

He pauses. His eyes soften.

“It is... a kinder fate than I was expecting. Than I deserve. Thank you for your part in it.”

They wave dismissively.

“You’ll earn it, eventually. Keeping everyone alive, and all. You’re both... happy? Something like it?”

The wolf smiles.

“Something like it, yes.”

Rook grins.

“Good! She missed you. Don’t go running off again,” they warn. “She did so much for everyone, and she seemed so…”—they tilt their head to the side—“lonely, somehow. Except when she talked about you.”

Solas’ ears fold back against his skull, and he ducks his head.

“She is too forgiving of my transgressions against her. I—“

“You don’t get to decide that,” they interrupt, a stubborn set to their jaw. “Do you think she doesn’t know what she wants?”

“Of course she does,” he retorts, sounding nettled. “I would never—“

“You would, though,” Rook disagrees, unimpressed. “She told me you drove her away on purpose, because you thought it was better for her. You took away her choice, because you decided she would choose incorrectly, without even having asked. You disrespected her.”

Solas bares his teeth at them, growls.

They stare back.

After a minute, he subsides. Huffs.

“I shall take your advice under consideration,” he says, reluctantly. “But we have become distracted; this is not what I am here to discuss.”

Rook‘s expression clears, and they nod.

“Right. What was that, anyway?”

Solas regains his customary seriousness.

“On your journeys, you found three circles, imbued with powerful magic. They spoke to you.”

Rook nods, thoughtful.

“I remember. They would never answer my questions. Were they Elvhen? They didn’t feel... right.”

Rook possesses absolutely no magical talent to speak of, but even they had felt something was… off, about the artifacts. They were… almost oily, to the touch, somehow.

“Our people did not create them, in ancient times or modern. The artifacts were built by those across the sea.”

Rook sits up straighter, leans toward him.

“What do you know about them? Are they the same ones from Taash’s message? Did they drive the Qunari to flee to Thedas? Can—“

“So many questions,” he interrupts, good humor in his tone, “that I unfortunately cannot answer. I offer this: Be cautious. Be prepared. They come.”

Rook frowns, about to protest, before the whole forest is swept away in a swirl of dazzling colors.

“It was good to see you again, Rook.”

[morelikeravenbore]

Sk8er Boi AU wasn't on my bingo card this morning but here we are.

Crackfic WIP below.

Wizarding folk, among which Sebastian was usually proud to include himself, had a distinct fondness for cobblestones. Great for aesthetics, sure: nothing screamed eccentric magical village quite like alarmingly uneven stone roads, but what worked for aesthetics was absolutely shite for skateboarding. 

That's right, skateboarding. 

Luckily, Sebastian was a wizard — and quite a gifted one at that — and though his professors from his Hogwarts days would likely argue that inventing a hovering charm to ride a Muggle skateboard over otherwise un-skateable terrain was a waste of his talents, he was inclined to disagree. Especially now, as he hurtled down the main street of Hogsmeade, dodging carts, villagers and stray cats at speeds that rivalled the newest model of the Firebolt.

No, far from a waste of time, this was undoubtedly the most impressive use of his magical prowess since he'd successfully cast the Killing Curse on the first go. 

— Can I Make It Any More Obvious? coming soon.

[suzukiblu]

Day three of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Uh,” Kon tries for a third time, clearing his throat and then sort of awkwardly . . . patting the kid’s shoulders, for lack of a better idea. Right, just . . . the kid still thinks he’s Clark, he guesses, so that’s gotta be like . . . what’s going on there, yeah. “Um–thanks, Jonno, but we should probably get off the street right now, we gotta get to, like . . . where we’re goin’ and all.” 

Ideally before Batman gets too Bat-paranoid about how long they’re taking, even if he knows what’s going on with the whole Croc thing and everything. 

“Oh, right, um–sorry!” Jon says, blushing in embarrassment, and then Kon feels like an asshole because the kid’s just–like, he just thinks he saw an alternate version of his dad do some superhero shit up close and personal, so he got excited or whatever. 

“It’s cool, you don’t have to be sorry or anything, just we’re still, like–actively in a situation here, technically,” he says, feeling even more awkward and patting the kid’s shoulders again. Fuck, he fucking sucks at this. “So like, better to get the intel on it, right? And like, locally-speaking and all . . .” 

“Right!” Jon says again, and at least stops looking embarrassed, so Kon guesses he could’ve done worse here. Though also he really wants to tell the kid he’s not Clark, but even if he switches vocal frequencies he doesn’t know if there are Batbugs in the towncar that would pick up anything he said, or even if this version of Jon won’t accidentally blurt something out or just freak out, and–

Yeah, this is still an “explain this shit face-to-face, ideally after testing the waters on the reality’s general thoughts about cloning technology and the results thereof” situation. Like, for sure. 

Though that does make him feel like kind of an asshole with, like–the kid. Like, he feels zero percent guilt about keeping a card or two held back with the Bats, but Bats are nothing but held-back cards and also, like, none of them are ten and all freaked out to be alone in a new reality and think he’s a version of their literal dad, so . . . yeah. 

Okay, yeah, he feels way more than just “kind of” like an asshole. Like–way, way more. 

Goddammit. 

Jon ducks back into the towncar and Kon spares another glance for Alfred, who just barely inclines his head, which is again totally unhelpful, so he just ducks in after the kid for lack of, like . . . literally anything else to do. Well–okay, that’s not true, he could just grab the kid and go anywhere on the planet they felt like, but he really does want intel from a local who knows what he fuck is going on and he has yet to meet the reality where the Bats aren’t the ones with the intel, so yeah. 

Also, they dropped a pair of half-Kryptonians into the middle of Gotham uninvited, so like, it’s probably polite to at least swing by the Batcave. Touch base or whatever. Report in on the whole “invasive species” thing. And he really wants to know what the local reality in general thinks about clones before he has to find out what the local reality’s Superman thinks about clones. Especially, like, face to identical face. 

Normally, Kon would be using the drive to wherever Alfred’s actually taking them–since obviously it is not actually gonna be the Batcave, much less the manor–to figure out how to maybe, like, figure out the local clone opinion without getting Bat-whatevered into a red sun cell or some weird magic circle or fuck knows what. Like, whatever the local Batman does to Kryptonians that his reality’s kryptonite won’t work on. 

Normally, though, there is not a starstruck ten year-old who immediately starts talking his ear off again the moment Alfred closes the car door behind him involved.

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (12 – 19 September 2024)

Hi everyone, so sorry this is a couple of days late this week! Will be back on the normally scheduled time next week!

As with last week, please feel free to add a little overview/summary about your update to the notes! I so enjoyed reading all the notes last week 🤍

(And in case you missed, a recap of the extra notes from last week!)

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (E, 37k, WIP) [source] "Harry comes in swinging from a bleak version of sixth and seventh years, fully intending to kill Tom. Unfortunately it seems the only people Tom and Harry are incapable of killing is the other. Harry's on attempt 4 and counting and this time he gives up on spells and decides to punch Tom Riddle's nose off. Tom's still utterly enamoured with him." friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 11k, WIP) [source] "When after four long years Harry and Tom meet again, the world turns upside down. Or maybe it was upside down all along, and it’s now flipping back over." These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) [source] "Things have gone from bad to worse, and Harry is finally about ready to take matters into his own hands…even if it means defying the normal laws of Magic and actually doing something for himself for once. (Guess which one will be harder for him 😂) In this update, Harry and Voldemort unexpectedly come face to face for the first time since the Dark Lord's death…which leads to a disturbing realization for Harry." Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 13k, WIP) [source] "A Harry-corrupts-Tom AU: Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him." the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes (M, 4k, complete) [source] "Tom Riddle has made millions and built a cult following around his politics-themed online stream, much to his boyfriend Harry’s bemusement. However, bemusement quickly turns into concern when Harry meets one of Tom’s biggest, most fervent fanboys, Regulus Black."

Now onto the updates from this week!

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 22 (Completed) of A Shot in the Dark by Ragdolly

One Shot | The Dinner by moontear for @moontearpensfic

One Shot | There's Something About (The Way You Are) by Ragdolly

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 12 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 1 of bad moon rising by sansaerys

Chapter 11 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 2 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn

Chapter 8 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 34 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 18 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 14 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 6 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapters 121 through 123 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 17 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 1 of The Cosmos In Your Eyes by @v33r00

Chapter 7 of Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3

Chapter 6 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 21 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn

Chapter 4 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapters 1 through 3 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 16 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 5 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 43 of Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra

Chapter 2 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 2 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

Chapter 12 of Just Business by @holaolla1

*

[greenapplespider]

(wip) To high powered mages, from Blood in Moderation, magic sounds like music. Which gives me a good reason to practice dynamic poses. This character is called Jeffery, he’s a bit of a savant when it comes to casting. The magic system in BiM I suppose is technically a low magic one.

—

The majority of magics are elemental in expression and generally adhere to the known laws of physics. All living beings have some amount of magic, as it is life, energy, blood- but only a small subset of humans possess the talent to wield it.

With most mages being inclined to certain expressions of magic over others, be it wielding fire, ice, or what have you. On the rarer side of things talents such as accelerating the bodies natural healing processes, reversing injuries, and even rearranging one’s magic to create quasi physical objects (such as energy shields or projectiles) exist.

Mages can pool their magic with one another to cast more powerful spells. With historical reports telling of Abufan savages using such techniques during the final Vanberg civil war to summon hurricanes.

It was rumored the Puppet King Jeffery had the ability to command storms himself, fully embodying the power of lightning and ether; that he could teleport at will without array or other casters. This is largely contested though.

On the darker side of things, exists alchemy; arrays drawn in blood which can help even the weakest mage cast feats well beyond them as well as certain other restricted practices, mostly lost to time.