#witchcraft quirk

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Just hit one hunny followers on my coven (my tumblr blog) on this fine day! Face reveal!!! Serving andro witch facecard in the tavern to pay for my potions today 💋 love y’all! Remember to take a selfie occasionally to make Aphrodite proud! 🏛️💙

[satori-runa]

—Sweet as you

Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.

Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash

Words: 0,8k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.

“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”

Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.

“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.

“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”

Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.

You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”

He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.

Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”

You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.

You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.

“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.

“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.

Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.

“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.

[jealousmartini]

Ouuu I just got another quirk idea that could be joint with "magic touch" which i was thinking could just be magic tricks and witchcraft, but this one's called "Jazz hands" and the quirk is just miming things into existence.

I am on a ROLL today omg I need to put these down into my mha drselves introduction asap

Just thought of a quirk name — "Magic touch", for my drself insert that im scripting into be a canon character in mha for my home reality. The quirk is related to witchcraft/magic and the name is a play on words with "Midas touch".

Idk where I'm going with this but I just thought I should tell yall

[writteninkat]

What made you fall for these MHA men?

w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari

warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff

a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo

whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)

find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.

one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box

chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.

history? which one? japanese? american? french?

ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.

yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.

yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing

seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him

you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?

you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door

it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?

if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry

no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best

whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.

hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you

always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink

problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.

yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him

IZUKU MIDORIYA

the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning

it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing

you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might

he's also incredible passionate about being a hero

the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching

whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse

feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are

whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up

whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!

problem here? he does that with everyone.

he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.

or are you?

SHOTO TODOROKI

you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.

at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.

you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.

mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.

shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them

"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk

"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.

"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.

you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.

another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him

class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands

wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.

how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face

he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.

DENKI KAMINARI

this man cracks you up with no fail

the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure

he's got every kind of humor in his chamber

dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"

corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."

dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"

yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud

you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you

this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks

when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.

what made you really feel for him though?

when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing

even katsuki cursed you out for being sick

apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-

"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.

"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.

denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.

"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."

your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.

"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"

and you do.

and he does.

and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.

[httpsserene]

httpsserene's F1 Kinktober '23

welcome to httpsserene's f1 kinktober special!

i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts tagged as: # httpss :// kinktober 23 | status: completed. | table of contents.

f1 kinktober 2023 charles leclerc x max verstappen | carlos sainz jr | oscar piastri | daniel ricciardo x max verstappen | lewis hamilton | george russell | pierre gasly | lando norris | charles leclerc | yuki tsunoda | x fem!black!reader

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE: CORRUPTION KINK — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 𝐱 𝐦𝐯. 𝟏 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

CHAPTER TWO: WERE-SHIFTER & PREDATOR/PREY KINKS — 𝐜𝐬𝐣. 𝟓𝟓 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

CHAPTER THREE: CAR SEX & SQUIRTING — 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

CHAPTER FOUR: OVERSTIMULATION KINK — 𝐝𝐫. 𝟑 𝐱 𝐦𝐯. 𝟏 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

CHAPTER FIVE: TENDER SEX & COCKWARMING — 𝐥𝐡. 𝟒𝟒 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

CHAPTER SIX: VAMPIRE & BITING/HICKEYS — 𝐠𝐫. 𝟔𝟑 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

CHAPTER SEVEN: WITCHCRAFT & APHRODISIAC — 𝐩𝐠. 𝟏𝟎 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

CHAPTER EIGHT: PUSSY WORSHIP — 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

CHAPTER NINE: ORGASM DENIAL — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

CHAPTER TEN: AB-RIDING & DRY HUMPING — 𝐲𝐭. 𝟐𝟐 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[blingblong55]

Like this- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Based on a request: Heyy can you do trad Goth reader x Simon Riley.  Do what ever you want as in fluff or anything, I just want this because in a trad Goth myself!🖤🦇 ---- F!Reader, established!relationship, trad goth!reader, fluff?, boyfriend!simon ----

A/N: this was from august and its sadly the first time I see this request, im so sorry for not seeing this sooner <3

The low hum of the electric light fills the room as you sit cross-legged in front of your vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to your eyeliner. The deep black flicks curl upwards like the wings of a raven, perfectly symmetrical and bold. The process has become second nature to you, a comforting ritual, but today, Simon lingers nearby, his interest piqued.

“Y/N, how do you get those lines so straight?” His deep voice carries over from where he’s perched on the edge of your bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped. You glance at him through the mirror, his eyes fixed on your movements with an intensity that makes you smirk.

“It’s all in the wrist, Simon,” you tease, wiggling the hand holding the eyeliner pen. “Years of practice and a steady hand.”

He grunts softly, clearly unsatisfied with your explanation. “Looks like witchcraft to me. Tried drawin’ somethin’ like that once for camo paint and ended up lookin’ like a pissed-off panda.”

You stifle a laugh, imagining him hunched over a mirror, fumbling with face paint. “Well, I’m sure you were a very intimidating panda.”

Simon huffs a short laugh, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “You’re takin’ the piss now.” Despite his words, there’s no bite to them, just warmth in his tone.

The mirror gives you a perfect view of him leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he tilts his head. His gaze roams over the collection of bottles and compacts on your vanity, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What’s that one do?” he asks, pointing a finger toward a small glass jar of black pigment.

“Eyeshadow,” you reply, holding it up for him to see. “It’s for shading, adding depth. Here, let me show you.”

You scoop a little onto the tip of your brush and reach for him. Simon doesn’t flinch, though his brow quirks in mild amusement. “You’re not paintin’ me up like a panda, love.”

“No pandas, I promise,” you say, stepping closer. He lets you lean in, and you gently dab the brush at the corner of his eye. The contrast of your soft touch against the rough edge of his stoic expression tugs at your heart.

He stays completely still, his eyes locked on your face. When you step back to admire your work, there’s a faint smudge of dark shadow enhancing his already piercing gaze.

“Not bad,” he mutters, tilting his head to get a better look in the mirror. “Makes me look a bit dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“You already look dangerous,” you counter, rolling your eyes. “The eyeshadow just makes you prettier.”

He snorts at that, shaking his head. “Prettier, eh? Don’t let Johnny hear you say that.” You laugh, but the warmth in his gaze when he looks at you makes your chest ache in the best way. He reaches out, tugging you toward him until you’re standing between his knees, his hands resting lightly on your hips.

“I like watchin’ you do this,” he says softly, his thumb idly tracing a small circle against your side. “You’ve got somethin’ special, the way you put yourself together. You don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks.”

His words catch you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat despite the confidence you usually wear like armour. “It’s just… who I am.”

“And I love it,” Simon murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Every bit of it. You make the world a little less dull.” Your throat tightens at his sincerity. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. “You’re such a softie sometimes, you know that?”

“Don’t tell the lads,” he whispers, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They’ll never let me live it down.”

“I promise,” you whisper back, your smile matching his. “It’ll be our secret.”

tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @froggy-anon @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @night-mare-owl-79  @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik  @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bitter-majesties @Nyx_Flower @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt  @gh0st-hunt2r @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj  @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

[i-dared-myself]

One, Two, Three

Yeosang x reader

In which you, a weak witch, can’t escape the powerful demon you’ve summoned.

18+

Cw: Stabbing, kidnapping, blood, explicit sex, accidental starvation of reader

Witches make mistakes. Sometimes the wrong ingredient goes into the wrong cauldron. Sometimes you bump into your table and bruise yourself.

Occasionally you summon a prince of hell. All you can say is oops and move on with your day.

Except when he’s chasing you through the abandoned building you had chosen for your ritual.

Your panting is growing harsh and it’s difficult to draw in air, but you keep running.

You can’t even hear him anymore, so you skid to a stop. You bend over and clutch at your knees, gasping for breath.

All that meets your ears is your rasping breaths and racing heart. It’s thumping harder than ever before in your life.

A sob rips itself from your throat, tears bubbling in your eyes. You never wanted this. Your hand slipped during the spell you were doing, and since witchcraft has to be so precise, you accidentally opened it. You opened the connection between worlds, causing a prince from hell to be unleashed.

Click.

Your head jerks up and you blink back the salt pouring from your eyes. You just heard something- something that isn’t you.

“Witchling,” someone croons, voice low and taunting.

You look around for somewhere to hide. A desk to find shelter under, a wardrobe to close yourself into.

But nothing.

Click.

Your index finger goes to your mouth, and you bite it to prevent a whimper from falling past your lips. You know the reputations of these things- these demons.

They’re bloodthirsty and cruel. Sadistic creatures that take pleasure in the fear of others.

Click.

“Witchling,” he croons again. “Where are you?”

You keep moving. Not running anymore, not wanting to create a lot of noise, but carefully walking down the dark hallways.

This place must have been an office building of some kind. There’s desks and chairs in the adjoining rooms, and the crooked doors have plaques with names on them.

Click.

You turn to see the source of the noise. The noise that was so close.

He stands at the end of the hallway, brown hair falling around his face. It’s not messy, but arranged tastefully. His eyes have a red sheen to them, and when his lips curl up, they reveal slightly pointed teeth.

“There you are.” The door shuts behind him with a soft sound. He laces his fingers together behind his back, tilting his head. “Why are you running?”

“Stay back!” You pull from your magic, casting a protection barrier. As long as you don’t move from this spot, you’ll be safe.

Unless he breaks it.

“Why?” he asks curiously. He takes a step closer, heels making a loud click.

“I- I’ll hurt you!” you threaten vaguely. Not that you’re certain if he can even feel pain.

He glides even closer, until he’s just outside of your protection barrier. “You would?”

“Yes,” you quickly say. “I’m a powerful witch. I kill demons and monsters all the time.”

“Then why is this,” he strokes the edge of your spell, making purple sparks fizzle in the air, “so weak?”

You curl inwards. He’s called your bluff.

“It’s pathetic, even,” he adds. His fingers probe deeper against the magic, the barrier straining to keep him out. It’s bending around his digits, and you can feel your magic fading fast.

You force your chin to lift boldly. “That’s what you say now, but wait until I kick your ass.”

He laughs lightly, eyes glinting. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” you press. “You think I wouldn’t? I duel creatures like you all the time.”

His head cocks to the side, strands of hair tumbling into his face. “There are no creatures like me. There are other demons, yes, but to you I am the only me. And you are the only human for me.”

“What?” You don’t understand what he’s saying.

Both of his hands splay out against your protection barrier. You can see his skin smoking from where it touches the magic, but he ignores the pain.

“You think just anyone could summon me?” His mouth quirks as if he’s amused by you. “No. I come when I please, for my own reasons.”

You pour more energy into your spell, watching as the smoke twists and curls in the air from where he touches it. “What are you talking about?”

There’s a crazed look to him now, in the way he smiles. “You’re mine. Designed for me, and me alone. Don’t you feel it?”

You take a step back, aware of how close you are to falling out of the safety of your ward. “I’m not designed for anyone. I don’t feel anything for you.”

His nostrils flare slightly and he narrows his eyes. “Lying little witchling. Reach inside you and try again.”

Reluctantly, you search inside yourself for anything that might resemble a connection. An accidental bond or a curse, perhaps.

You find a sliver of darkness. A little piece of shadow that rests in the very being on your soul. It’s latched deep inside you, thrashing around.

Your magic flickers.

You’ve never gone this far with your powers. It’s exhausting, and now that you’re aware of this thing you can actively feel it.

“That’s me.” His finger shoots out and presses against your chest. His arm is through a hole in your barrier. “I can feel it. That means that we’re destined for each other.”

You stare down at where he’s touching you, eyes wide. “How did you-“

Then he shreds the ward with no effort at all. He lunges at you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you close to him. He shudders, and you can feel that tiny sliver of darkness rising and lifting inside you.

His mouth is hovering over yours, eyes dark with hunger. “Mine,” he says simply, before lowering his lips to yours.

You’re distantly aware of the shadow slipping out of your mouth and into his, and then you’re kicking him away. You crawl as far as you can from him as he regains his breath.

He’s staring down at his hands with a look of wonder. “You truly are designed for me. You had the missing part of my powers. Don’t you feel stronger now as well?”

You scramble to your feet and cast another protection spell. It’s more powerful than anything you’ve ever done, and it felt so easy.

“There you go,” he says, something akin to pride in his words. “But I’m afraid our time is up. It’s time to go home.”

“Go back to the hole you crawled out of,” you spit, braver now with this newfound magic. “I’m not yours, and I never will be.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. “I know you didn’t mean it, so I’ll ignore it. But my patience is running thin. Come here.”

You scoff. “No.”

His eyes open again, and he gazes at you. “I’ll give you to the count of three.”

You pull at more of your magic, strengthening your shield. You know you can’t hold out as long as him, even with this new power, but you can at least make it difficult for him.

“One,” he says, eyes still locked on you.

You clench your jaw.

“Two.”

You widen your stance, preparing for whatever it is he’ll do. You don’t know what he wants with you, but it surely isn’t anything good.

“Three,” he softly says before shattering your shield. You build it up again as quickly as you can, desperate for anything to keep you safe.

It repeats over and over again, with him breaking down your protection and you putting it back up. It’s exhausting and you can feel your magic and energy both draining.

“Witchling” he suddenly says, worry in his tone. “Your nose.”

You bring the heel of your hand up to your nose, pulling it away to find blood. “Oh.”

He takes your moment of distraction to grab you. As soon as he makes contact with you, your knees buckle.

He scoops you up and looks down at you, the corners of his lips lifting. “I am Yeosang, witchling. And you are mine.”

Then darkness consumes you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stir, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings. It’s quiet, with no sounds except that of your breathing.

You sit up and push silk sheets away from your body, sliding out of bed. The bedroom itself is dim, with closed curtains blocking a wide window.

You’re wearing a loose-fitting top with matching pants. Both are a light pink with bunnies on them.

You push the door open, padding out into a long hallway. There are other doors along the corridor, and you open each of them. There are bedrooms and bathrooms, and what you think is a dance studio.

“Witchling,” the demon- Yeosang- says. He’s dressed in a black robe that is cinched around his waist. “You’re awake.”

You clutch at your shirt, twisting the fabric nervously. “Where are we?”

“Home.” The word sounds odd as it comes from his mouth. Intimate and nothing that you should share with him.

“Where?” you press.

Yeosang studies you carefully. “Where I come from. You’re safe here, though. No one will touch you except me.”

“No,” you sharply say. “You’ll leave me alone.”

He considers it for a moment. “We shall see. But be assured that I will do nothing without your permission,” he vows.

You relax as much as you can under the circumstances, nodding. “What do you want from me?”

“To keep you safe. To have with you what humans desire and yearn for.”

You swallow thickly. “Okay.”

You have no plans whatsoever to have anything to do with him. As soon as you get the chance to kill him, you’re taking it.

“Breakfast?” Yeosang sweeps an arm out to a set of stairs that you could have sworn wasn’t there a moment ago. They’re covered in a lush carpet and go down to a wide and spacious room.

You grip the railing as you go downstairs, trying not to trip on the flared bottoms of the pants. “Interesting outfit choice.”

“Do you not like it?” Yeosang asks from behind you, voice tinged with… insecurity? “Human women like cute things, do they not?”

“Some do.” You reached the ground and turn to take him in again. He’s ethereal, beautiful to a level that you could never compete with. “Others don’t.”

“And which are you?” His eyes flick over your form, falling on your face. “I can fix it.”

“It’s fine.” You tug at the hem of your left sleeve. “I’m not picky.”

Yeosang watches you for a minute before motioning to an open doorway. “Sit in there and wait.”

“Yeosang.” You struggle with what to say before sighing. “Why can’t I use my magic? My powers aren’t working.”

“You really think I’d let you keep them after everything?” Yeosang arches an eyebrow. “Nice try. You have to earn them back.”

You trudge off in the direction he had instructed, finding yourself in a dining room. There’s a long table with one place setting at the head of it. You settle in the chair, snatching up the knife next to the plate. You tuck it in your lap, out of sight.

Yeosang enters with a steaming tray of food. There’s a small bowl of fruit along with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

You take the fruit and spear a piece on your fork. “Are you going to eat?”

“No,” he answers. “I don’t have a need to, so it’s pointless.”

You glance up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Have you ever eaten?”

“Not any of your human food.” Yeosang shakes his head at you, scowling at a watermelon chunk.

“Really?” You gape at him in shock. “That’s… Wow. Here, try some of this.” You offer him the watermelon, shaking it when he hesitates.

Yeosang warily places a piece on his tongue, chewing slowly. He swallows and then reaches for another. “It’s not terrible.”

“You like it,” you insist. “Don’t pretend you don’t.” His cheeks flush, turning a pink that you never expected to see on him. “Finish your meal.”

You shrug and return to picking at your food. You eat as slowly as possible, hoping to piss him off. Do demons get impatient? Do they grow restless?

You get the impression that the answer is yes, based on how his leg taps. You smile to yourself and hide it behind your hand.

“Are you finished yet?” Yeosang asks, voice sharp and tinged with annoyance. “It can’t possibly take humans this long to eat.”

“Almost.” You push the empty fruit bowl away and pick up a piece of toast. You just stare at it for a moment before taking a bite.

He huffs and settles into a chair. “I have places to be, witchling. I don’t have time for this.”

Your fingers wrap around the knife in your lap. You haven’t forgotten about it, merely biding your time until the moment was right.

That time is now.

You lunge for him and plunge the blade into his chest. His eyes widen in surprise and his hands come up to the wound.

You remove the weapon and look at the blood-covered blade with satisfaction. It’s dripping with red, shining in the light.

He still hasn’t said anything, clutching at the hole on his chest. Blood is oozing out onto his fingertips, sinking into his robe. His mouth parts as he gazes at you, eyes hooded with pain.

“Fuck you,” you spit, tossing the knife away. “That’s what you get for kidnapping me.”

And yet your words are laced with regret. Guilt coats the inside of your mouth and turns your victory bitter.

“That’s it?” Yeosang blinks at you. “Are you done yet?”

“Am I… What?” You frown and can’t help but feel at unease.

Yeosang sits up and stretches as his wound stitches itself together. The skin that you can see where his robe splits apart is slick with blood. “Are you finished with your tantrum now?”

You take a fearful step back. “You’re not dead? How are you… Shit.”

“Indeed.” Yeosang hums and flicks a droplet of blood away. It lands on the white tablecloth and he cocks his head at it. “It’s your first day, so I won’t make this too terrible. I’ll even give you a choice.”

You’ve made a terrible mistake. A rash decision that has ended horribly.

“You can either be… dealt with now, before I leave,” he says. “Or later when I return. Now will be quicker, but I’m angrier now. Later it’ll take longer, but I may be more lenient.”

You shudder at the implication of his words. “L- Later.”

“Very well,” he mildly says. “I’ll be gone for a while and will deal with you when I return. You may have free rein of the house, but aren’t allowed to leave it.”

As if you’d listen to that.

But you nod and smile pleasantly. “Okay.”

He reaches out and cups your cheeks with both of his hands, splaying his thumbs out. “You promise to be good?”

“Yes,” you lie. You don’t even know what his rules might possibly be, not that you plan to follow any of them.

Yeosang smiles and presses the gentlest of kisses to your forehead. “I’ll return, witchling.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every exit is sealed with his magic. Every door to the outside refuses to open no matter how hard you press. Every window is shut and will not budge.

It’s frustrating, because you have no way of telling how long he’s been gone. It’s long enough that you have checked every way to escape twenty times, but that’s all you know. There are no clocks or any other digital way of telling the time. The sun is slowly setting, but you have no way of knowing if this is your sun or some kind of alternate dimension where it takes a week for the sun to go down.

You shuffle off to the kitchen, shoulders slumped with defeat. What you need now is some self-pity ice cream.

But alas, the freezer is empty. So is the fridge too. And the pantry.

You slam the cupboard doors shut, muttering curses under your breath. That bastard didn’t leave you any snacks.

To amuse yourself, you wander down the seemingly endless hallway. The attached rooms are always a surprise, and you even discover a whole ass library at one point. The ceilings stretch so high you could release at least twenty eagles.

Which is a strange unit of measurement, but still.

You eventually grow bored of exploring and return to your room. It’s exactly how you left it, and you throw yourself into bed. You fall asleep in almost an instant, exhausted from such a long day of exploring.

When you wake, you play dress up. You have a massive closet filled with hundreds of different outfits. Dresses, pantsuits, tuxedos. Even a maternity dress, which you instantly bring to the kitchen to burn.

You bring the edge to the open flames, cheering when it lights. It burns fast after that and you have to run to a different room when it goes out of control.

You stay at the other side of the house after that, fairly certain that you had burnt the entire place down.

And it’s on day three, you believe, that you realize he’s truly forgotten that you need food. You need sustenance if you are to survive. You have no idea how long he’s to be out, either.

You’re completely helpless.

Your stomach cramps with hunger and you groan, clutching at the railing to the stairs. Going down them when you’re this dizzy is a terrible idea, but you need to double check that the kitchen is empty.

It’s charred when you arrive, and you have a sinking feeling that this isn’t what he meant when he told you to be good. But there’s a chance you’ll have starved to death when he returns, so you’re not too worried.

You have no idea what day it is when Yeosang comes home. It’s a sick feeling when you recognize that you referred to this prison as home.

“Witchling?” Yeosang softly calls. You can hear him from the patch of floor you’ve claimed as your own. “Where are you? We still need to discuss your behaviour.”

Is that what he cares about right now? Was this entire situation your punishment?

“Witchling?” Yeosang’s voice is louder now, with an edge of anger to it. “I thought I taught you that hiding doesn’t do you any good. Remember how I found you the first time? I always will, so don’t bother hiding.”

You’re aware of the clicking of his shoes on the polished marble floors as he searches for you. You’re too busy trying not to pass out to respond to him.

“Witchling.” Yeosang stands in the doorway, eyebrows pinched with concern. “What are you doing down there?” He kneels at your side and props you up, expression falling further into worry. “What’s wrong?”

You shudder and fist at his shirt. “I- I’m sorry.” You can feel tears roll down your face and you sniffle. “I- I won’t do it again. I’ll be good!”

“Thank you,” he says, sounding confused. “But what are you doing on the floor?”

Your head lolls into the crook of his neck, mumbling slurred apologies for stabbing him. You just want to eat. You want something to fill your stomach and will do anything for it.

Yeosang tilts your chin up at him. “Witchling? What are you- What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, pleading with him. “I understand what I did was terrible. Can I- Can you please-“ Your fingers tug at the material of his shirt. “I’m sorry!”

Yeosang picks you up and cradles you to his chest. “I- Did you hit your head while I was gone? Do I need to take you to one of your human doctors?”

“Can I please have something to eat?” you quietly ask. “I’m sorry for everything and won’t do it again. Just- I learned my lesson.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Witchling I’m so- Yes. Yes I’ll go get you something.”

Yeosang places you back down on the floor and hurries out of the room. You watch him go through tears, the sight blurring.

He practically sprints back into the room, falling to his knees at your side. He hands you a chunk of buttered bread, along with pieces of meat. “I’m so sorry, witchling. I forgot about your needs. It’s all my fault.”

You swallow down your first mouthful, staring up at him. “You- You did this on accident?”

“Yes, I promise.” Yeosang nods frantically. “I would never do something so cruel. I was planning to talk with you about how I could make this better for you.”

You chew as you listen, eating faster than you probably should.

“From now on I’ll be more attentive,” he promises. “I won’t leave your side unless absolutely necessary. You’re mine and I’m yours, for however you want me.”

“But I don’t want you at all.” You curl into a ball once you’ve finished eating. “I want you to bring me home.”

He rocks back on his heels, sighing heavily. “That, I cannot do. I need to make sure you’re safe. Everything inside me is screaming to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” you demand, lifting your head. “You’re the only danger! You fucking kidnapped me and almost starved me to death!”

“An accident!” Yeosang brushes his fingers over your cheek, only for you to slap his hand away. “Witchling…”

“Stop calling me that.” You bury your face in your arms. “Just leave me alone.”

Yeosang makes a small, strangled sound of protest before giving up. He stands and walks towards the door. “I’ll stock the fridge.”

As soon as he’s gone, you flee to your room and slam the door shut. You crawl beneath the covers of your bed, oddly at ease now that Yeosang is home.

But that’s insane, so you brush the thought away.

You busy yourself by reading all of the books you had smuggled to your room. They’re all works of fiction, designed to ease the mind with entertainment. It keeps you occupied until there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Witchling,” Yeosang gently says. “I miss you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left me for days, then.” You scoff and turn the page of your novel.

You hear shuffling before Yeosang speaks again. “Can I come in? Please?”

You sigh. “Fine.”

The door is opened and Yeosang enters warily. There’s a tiny smile that grows on his face once he sets his eyes on you.

“Hi,” he says. He fiddles with his hands. “I brought you something to eat.”

You sit up and place the book in your lap. “Okay. Do you want a medal?”

He seems hurt for a moment before he reaches out of your line of sight and grabs a tray of food. Lines of steam waft upwards from a plate of pasta as he sets it down next to you.

You pick up the fork and take a bite, finishing the entire dish before glancing up at him. “I’m done.”

Yeosang’s hands shake as he takes the tray back. “Was it- Did you like it?”

You study his face for a second. He looks… odd. Fidgety and desperate for approval.

“It was okay,” you finally say. Something flashes in his eyes before he’s kneeling again, bending at the waist to drape his torso across your bed.

His lashes flutter as he gazes up at you, tears bubbling in the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you, I promise. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Will you ever let me go?” you ask instead of answering.

His fingers twist at the sheets and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I- I-“ Yeosang pauses to swallow, throat bobbing. “If that’ll make you happy, yes. I’ll let you go.”

You lean into the pillows, watching him. “Do you mean it?”

Tears spill from his eyes. “I- Yes I mean it. I really mean it. If it’ll make you happy I’ll do it.”

You don’t know how to feel about this. This is everything you’ve been hoping for, but something isn’t right. What’s wrong with him?

“Can you go?” You point at the door. “I’m busy reading.”

Yeosang brightens. “So you’re not leaving?”

You tilt your head at the door. “Get out.”

He whines, actually fucking whines, but catches himself. Yeosang gets to his feet and nods before exiting.

You stare at his retreating form.

Odd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Witchling.” Yeosang hovers in the doorway. “Can I show you something?”

You frown, but throw your legs over the side of the bed. “What is it?”

“I made you something,” Yeosang breathlessly tells you. He starts to leave before you can even get your slippers on.

You rush after him and almost fall down the stairs. He’s walking so fast, for no reason whatsoever.

“Yeosang! Slow down!” you yell as you stumble for the eighth time.

He instantly halts, glancing over his shoulder. He waits for you to reach his side before continuing, slower this time.

“I worked really hard,” Yeosang declares. His cheeks are pink and he keeps looking away from your face.

You push a door open, entering… a bedroom? The bed’s sheets are tucked tight enough to cut yourself on the edge, and paintings are hung. The curtains are a pleasing shade of red with elegant designs on them.

“What is it?” you blandly ask him.

“It’s our room,” he proudly replies. “You can have whatever side of the bed that you want.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“I don’t care which side I get. As long as you’re happy.” Yeosang beams at you, motioning to the room. “Do you like it?”

“Why do you think I’d sleep here?” You cross your arms across your chest. His expression crumbles, so you press on. “With you too? Never going to happen. I still haven’t forgiven you for anything.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind. “Please? Just for one night to try it? You’re so far away in your room… I miss you when you’re over there.”

You squirm away from him. “What’s wrong with you today? You’re so clingy and- and affectionate!”

Yeosang reaches out for you before his arms drop back to his sides. He bites at his lip before giving up and tugging at his hair. “You did this! You made me like this!”

“I did not,” you argue. “You’re just weird.”

“No,” Yeosang insists. “I found you, my other half, and it- It triggered something. Now I need you so bad. I need to hold you and make you happy. I need your smile and laughter. I need to be inside you.”

You jerk away. “What?”

Yeosang covers his face with his fingers in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’ll take you home now and deal with this on my own.”

You stop him, holding out your hands. “I don’t want to go home anymore. But, I want a few ground rules.”

Yeosang eagerly accepts. “Yes. Anything.”

“My first rule is that you’ll allow me to come and go as I please.” When he nods, you continue. “My second is that we’re equals. I want to be treated as a person, not some pet.”

“Anything,” Yeosang agrees. He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “What else?”

“I want your loyalty and devotion.” You keep your tone level as to not give away how much you want him. You want everything he’ll give you. “And I want my magic back.”

“Absolutely.” Yeosang has tears clinging to his eyelashes. “Just- Please?”

“Okay.” You relent to the longing in his eyes and the tugging at your soul. “What do you need?”

He mouths at the exposed collumn of your throat, his tongue shooting out to touch the skin. His teeth graze at your neck.

“I can’t stop thinking about what it be like to be buried inside you.” Yeosang groans, head tipping back. “You- You’d be so tight and warm. Clenching around me like the perfect fuck toy that you are.”

You gape as you’re backed up to the bed with each menacing step closer that he takes. “What?”

He shoves you hard enough that you bounce on the bed momentarily. Yeosang lays atop you, caging you in with arms on either side of your head.

There’s something coiling inside you, and you can’t identify it as magic or an impending orgasm. Your mind is just too clouded with lust to think about it.

You tug at the collar of his shirt and yank him closer to you. You kiss him fiercely and your teeth clack with his. Yeosang’s tongue swipes at your mouth and he whimpers once your own tongue dominates his mouth.

“You’re so needy,” you absently note as his hips roll down into yours. You can feel his erection pressing into your thigh, a sign of his desperation.

“Been wanting this for so long,” he pants out. Yeosang peppers your face with kisses. “And now I can’t think about anything else. It’s like- It’s like it’s taken over my mind.”

You stroke his hair, smiling softly at him. He’s so wrecked already, but you want to utterly ruin him. “Want me to take care of that?”

“Yes,” he instantly replies as you maneuver him onto his back. “More than anything.”

You laugh and slide down his pants to his ankles. Caressing his face, you smile widely. “Lick it.” You hold your palm out for Yeosang.

He obeys and slides his tongue up your skin, maintaining eye contact with you. You smile at him before reaching down to caress his cock.

When you thumb at his slit, his reaction makes you clench around nothing. Yeosang’s eyes are glassy, and his tongue rolls out of his open mouth, spreading glossy spittle across his jaw as he moans.

Your movements are smooth as your hand glides over him. His hips buck up to meet each of your hand’s motions. You run your finger over a vein, squeezing maybe a bit too harsh when you reach his base.

Yeosang seems to like it, though, back arching as he lets out a strangled cry. His fists clench at the sheets and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Are you close?” you coo. “Close to cumming everywhere like a good fuck toy?”

“Uh-huh,” he gasps, eyes rolling back in his skull.

You take a step away and wipe your hands on your pants. “Okay then. Good to know.”

Yeosang’s eyes widen as you walk to the door. “What are you doing?”

You grin, waving your hands to create magic chains around his wrists. “I think I’m going to explore the house a little bit. This place is endless.”

Yeosang thrashes against his restraints, eyes locked on you with anger boiling over in his expression. “You better run, little witchling, because when I catch you I’m going to fuck you senseless until you’re drooling. When there’s a puddle under your face, I’m going to laugh and switch to your ass.”

Your knees go weak for a second before you sprint out the door. You can hear the shattering of chains from behind you, emboldening you to run faster. You throw your sweater off as you go, hoping he’ll trip on it and it’ll slow him down.

As hard as your heart is pumping, you feel giddy. The thought of being pinned down right where he catches you is enough to make you ooze.

But you want to make this difficult for him, ever the fighter. You crawl beneath a desk in some random office, one of many in this massive and sprawling house.

Click.

This time, the sound of his shoes has a different effect on you. You’re no longer trembling with fear, but with want. You slide further into the shadows beneath the desk, straining your ears to hear him.

“Witchling,” Yeosang calls, voice soft and menacing. “I’ll give you to the count of three, and then after that I won’t be so nice.”

Click.

You can already imagine how it’ll feel to have him driving in and out of you at a bruising pace. The stretch will be good enough to make you cum just from it.

“One,” Yeosang says, voice coming from a different room.

Click.

“Two,” Yeosang says, this time closer.

Click.

This time you can see the source of the clicking. He’s standing in the doorway, and under the desk you can see up to his shins at most. “Three.”

You cover your mouth with your hands to stifle any noises. He’s waiting for any hint that you’re here, and you don’t want to give it to him.

Yeosang exhales heavily, turning the sound into a bit of a moan at the end. “I’m touching myself right now, thinking of you.” He lets out a breathy little sigh.

He’s lying. He’s a filthy lying bastard, and you know it. His pants are on. You can see them.

But you still peek out from under the desk.

Yeosang’s pants have been shuffled downwards slightly so he has access. His head is thrown back as his hand moves over his cock.

“Found you,” he croons, lowering his gaze. He peers at you through thick lashes, mouth parting. His cheeks are a flushed pink, and his hair is messy.

He kicks the door shut and slips out of his pants, throwing it in the corner with his shirt. You inch further into the shadows, although you know that the game is up.

His hands hooks around your ankle and Yeosang tugs you out from hiding. He tosses you over the desk, discarding you of your clothing as quickly as he can. He plunges two fingers into you and you claw at the wood of the desk.

“Yeosang,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. The hard surface is digging into your stomach, so you pull yourself across it further so it’s in the crook of where your legs meet your body.

“Yes, witchling?” Yeosang curls his fingers.

You squirm back onto his hand, grinding on the heel of it. Your clit is finally getting stimulation after such a long period of foreplay, and you want more.

“Was there something you needed, or should I leave you like you left me?” Yeosang leans down and presses his naked body to yours. “Pleading, and begging, and- and-“

You tremble at the thought of it. “No! Please!”

“But isn’t that fair?” Yeosang lays an open-mouthed kiss at your shoulder. “It’s what you did to me, after all.”

“But-“ You rack your mind for a reason. A way to convince him to give you an orgasm. “But then you won’t be able to fuck me. Aren’t you needy right now? I bet you just want to fill me.”

Yeosang hums lowly and presses another finger into you. His thumb works on your clit, just the way that you need it. “Yes, but I can wait. I’ve been waiting days to have you. I’ve been waiting years to meet you.”

“Then just fuck me!” you whine. “Yeosang! I know you want to, so stop pretending!”

Your budding orgasm is ruined when he promptly removes his fingers. He hooks his fingers in your mouth while the ones that had been inside you are wiped on your ass.

He kneads at the muscle. “I did promise to fuck your ass. Would you like that? Oh, it’d be so smooth and nice.” His fingers press down on your tongue, applying a steady pressure.

You groan, sucking on his fingers absently. You would take them down your throat if it meant you finally got fucked stupid.

Yeosang lines himself up with your pussy, swiping two fingers down your glistening hole. “Witchling, you’re dripping.” He uses it as lube on his dick before entering you.

Your back arches and you push your ass up to him in offering. A moan is torn from your mouth before you can stop it, followed by another one when he smacks your ass.

He gives you no time to adjust to the stretch before he’s thrusting into you harshly. You scramble for something to grip, clenching tightly on him.

Yeosang lets out a rough noise and his hands flex on the desk.

“So good,” he praises through pants and huffs. He manhandles you to your back and wraps your legs around his waist. “I can feel you just sucking me in deeper.”

“Oh, you’re so-“ You bite your lower lip. “Yeosang, I just-“

“It’s pathetic that you’re close to cumming already.” Yeosang scoffs and moves a hand to play with your clit. “Really that desperate for me?”

“Like you aren’t desperate for me,” you argue. You lift your hips to meet him halfway in the movements.

Yeosang grips your chin and tilts your head up. “Open, witchling. Be good for me.”

Your tongue unfurls from your mouth as you widen your lips. You watch as he leans in even closer, opening his own mouth in response.

Yeosang drools into your mouth, the corners of his lips curling as it drips onto your tongue. He pats your cheek once he’s finished. “Swallow.”

Your walls flutter as you obey, causing his hips to stutter. “Can I- Are you close?”

“Yes,” Yeosang answers simply. “You may cum.”

Your legs tremble as your orgasm washes over you, quickly succeeded by his. He remains inside you as he softens, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get you up to bed before I need you again.” Yeosang scoops you up, your sweat-slicked body sticking to his. “Then I’ll make good on my promise of fucking you until there’s a puddle under your face.”

Taglist (Open):

@velvetmoonlght @jinnie-ret @hansmic @imeverycliche @life-is-a-game-of-thrones

I’m so proud of me, this is more than 6k words. I shall brag about this to my bestie, and then force her to read it.

[ooooo-mcyt]

I like to stretch Scott's character quite a bit to be more angsty in some ways to fit with my "Everyone in the life series is traumatized and/or inflicting trauma on others because they're being tortured by patrons of violence" narrative, which is where my interpretations of Scott's constant silver linings and positive spins as a trauma response to repression. But while I am attached to my angstified interpretation of Scott for the narrative I'm spinning of the Life Series, I'd like to take a moment to appreciate the narrative themes Scott actually tends to lean into in his storytelling.

A pretty consistent quirk of Scott's storytelling habits that I'm actually quite fond of is his aversion to bad or hopeless endings (which isn't to say they never happen, but usually scott will put a silver lining and path forward on every story)

In Witchcraft Smp Scott gets his partner back despite everything. He isn't punished for his grief, he isn't told he's unworthy of love because of the mistakes he made, and his quest didn't turn out to be pointless. Scott, despite everything, defied the laws of death with is love and desperation and grief. And when his partner looked at him again, it didn't matter how different Scott was. His partner saw how he'd changed, how he was sicker, duller, cracked and torn and generally unwell, and still thought he was every bit as beautiful as he'd ever been. They walk off together, to start their life together again.

In Empires season one there isn't a 'happy ending', obviously. There's an apocalyptic event and Scott literally dies. But Scott still infuses it with plenty of hope. First in the fact that his death was a sacrifice, one that we have reason to believe brought tangible good in protecting his friends and the world going forward, opening a pathway for the world to recover, even without him. And secondly in Scott's happy afterlife, a place that's full of color and life, where everyone he loved is safe and close to him.

It was almost the exact same for Third Life. There was a tragic ending, sure. Scott lost his husband, spiraled into grief and mental instability, and then was hunted through the woods and killed. But Third Life, just like Empires season one, grants him a happy afterlife with the one he loves. In both stories, instead of letting the narrative end with Scott's death, there is written in a path home for him, a path into a warm place full of flowers and people who love him, and an implied way forward, because not even death is an ending, because (just like in witchcraft smp too, actually) not even death can steal things forever.

And even when Scott doesn't write overt happy (or at least semi-hopeful) endings into his stories, he still ties them up with a positive bow. Almost every life series season ends with a stinger, a line where Scott makes a point of highlighting that despite not (usually) 'winning', despite dying he's happy (or at least acceptingly okay) with how things turned out.

Of course, angst has a place, and I actively like to make my Life Series Scott characterization more angsty and unwell than the narrative Scott (cc) actually wrote. But I'm also genuinely quite attached to the much more positive themes Scott consistently writes into almost every single story he has any hand in. The idea that all people are worth loving, that your actions matter and that you can make a positive impact, that nothing's ever lost forever, that it's never ever too late, that there's always a path forward. There's just so much hope imbued in every single narrative from Scott Smajor and a lot of them have been genuinely meaningfully impactful to me during some really bleak moments in my life, so I really do feel the need to lift up and highlight these themes because Scott Smajor storylines really know how to beat back the nihilism.

[definitely-not-5-frogs]

So I talked to my Grandma (the one who talked about witch genes) and boy does the plot thicken. So apparently my a lot of greats (I think 11) grandma was Susannah North Martin, one of the fourteen women killed in the Salem witch trials. "that's so cool grandma", I say, "You're a powerful one too." she says, "???" I respond. Grandma tells me she knew when I flipped over after being born, which apparently you're not supposed to do until 3 months of life, not 30 minutes. "I should know," she says "I was a labor and delivery nurse" This is yet another revelation, but one that deserves an entire post of its own. She then tells me I'd be powerful because of when I was born (8:44 am on September 22) which was not only the moment of the autumnal equinox, but the same day the Salem witch trials ended. She tells me my birth being at that moment is what gave me my shocks of orange hair (I am brunette with random clumps of orange hair, caused by a problem in melanin production in the scalp), that I was blessed by autumn. This is it, I think to myself, I've secretly been the main character of a book all along, and this is the start of my heroic journey to save someone or something and maybe fall in love along the way. This, obviously, does not happen. Grandma instead just tells me about her favourite fairy tale "The Little Prince" and then we get on to the topic of Don Quixote.

my bookmarks finally match my tattoo 😊

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What would your broken heart feel about your nuptial union ? (18+)

PILE 2 

Star (reverse), High priestess (reverse), 2 cups, 2 wands (reverse) 

SONG 1 : A Sunday Kind Of Love - Etta James

You are an over-sharer and u dont care. You often say the most out of pocket things and walk away like the queen you are. Because you may be disrespectful but u aint wrong. You give me the vibe of Luna Lovegood with the mouth of Cookie Lyon or Pat LuPon. You have a sense of humor, sex-appeal and feminine expression similar to Helena Bonham. Ok Pile 2, I am obsessed with you … Plz say u want to be my friend. It said we are friends, yes you have no choice. I swear I am cool too, maybe not as much as you but I am still a STAR (Mia Goth scream way). 

First letter is written by your present self. Y’all may live alone. You may have  black cat or thought of adopting one from the shelter. You are always down for a late night snack. You were raised by a naked mom (twin … told u we have a lot in common) that's why u walk around your house naked. For the one that doesn't apply to their 3D reality, just know that your manifestations are working. You are on the right path to achieve that kind of freedom. 

Second letter is an update from your future self. 

You drop everything. Close your phone or your TV. Give it a big sight and take some paper and a pen. Other of you, is in your journal. Your done being confused or acting confused. Waiting for the right one to appear, you are taking matters on your own and writing about him (without knowing your are manifesting and using a powerful energy : frustration. Also you may do under a powerful moon (ex : full moon) without knowing) 

Ok … So I want him to look so deep in my eyes that it seems like his having a discussion with my soul. I  don't care that I can't handle eye contact (some of y’all wear glasses), I just want a cute moment. Is that too much to ask ? No it is not ! AND I WANT IT. I also want someone that can't keep his hand away from me. I want someone who's going to drag me towards him softly while I speak to my friend just cause he needs to feel me. I want someone that would hug me to sleep while he plays video games with his friend but he would not just stop there. He would not scream and his friend would yell at him in his headphones but he would chuckle that he’s the only one with a gf for a reason. He would never be ashamed of being pussy whipped and a total simp boy for a fucking weird girl like me. He will not fetishize my weirdness or quirks, he would actually embrace it. He will found joy bringing me to the spiritual shop so I can buy all my crystal and herbs, he would love to plan a trip to Salem so we can dive deeper into the witchcraft scene or maybe love to go to New Orleans so I can bask in the magical air and learn the beauty of a closed practice (u will not practice it but u love learning). He would love to see me put cinnamon  a front of all our doors, fuck why not add this since HIS MY PERFECT MEN …he would love to live in an old house with some antique decor. I also need him to be tall , this tall queen needs to feel like a little spoon 2. Back off my man, short princess, mama got this. I WANT HIM CLINGY. I want him to be unable to sleep without me. I want him to be a homebody but like the clean kind, not the incel way ( ME: EXPLOSION OF LAUGHTER. Girl u seem to talk from a specific experience). I want him to love holding on to my purse, tying my shoes and throwing in some kind of braiding hair skills. I want him to enjoy a road trip because if there's one thing my family is going to do, is go on a trip. I want him to love my family and accept the fact that I am a crybaby. Yes… the stereotype is real, I am the last (or only ) daughter of the family so is my way or the highway. I want him to be able to chase after me when the zoomies catch me when  I am drunk. Did I mention that I want him tie to my hip ? I want him to stop his car whenever he sees me in  the neighborhood just so he can get out and hug me. Universe frl don't play with me … he better not be some long distance bullshit. You know I can't handle it ! 

Yes! Angel number : 999 must be meant to be. 

PS: I just want to throw this here … I mean may as well. I want us to have some light hearted  love making. I want to be comfortable being naked under the cover. I want us to build healthy sexual tension. I also want him to seduce me into having sex, no pressure. I want him to touch me like I am a delicate porcelain doll and look at me with so much love and adoration. I want him to see the value in my naked body … I just want to feel like I am worth more than just a sex doll. 

555

(Your signature) 

Update (In your manifestation journal. You will have one in the future. Also I am channeling a time where u are more organized in your spirituality and more confident than a baby witch) 

SONG : CRUSH - AJ Tracey ft Jorja Smith 

Before I start, you are coming to a realization. Don't worry, it's not a bad one. You just did something u never thought u would do. Actually when u went to meet up with him u did not even think, y’all would do that. You guys fucked in the forest. Some of y’all have a lake in your neighberhood which is your secret spot and u fucked in parking lot around.  Depending on how u park it can be in front of the forest. You were literally coochie out moaning  with the birds. BYEEE … Chérie D’Amour I did not know y’all were down like that. Some of y’all reading are surprise but intrigue, yeah this person is going to bring out the nasty gyal out of you. 

3 pentacles (reverse), king cups, 6 wands (reverse), magician (reverse) 

Home sweet home… I'm back. 

(You take a deep breath. Nod your head and stand up  and caress your bed (lol) then  decide is best to just take a shower. The flashbacks are attacking you in the shower. You may get horny in the shower to the point of wanting to touch yourself but I heard u speak out loud : (Your name) stop being so perv, ( chuckle ) … fuck I forgot how good and hot he was). Dinner with the fam and watching a movie with your sibling back in your bedroom.) 

Ok not only did he crack my shit he also clocked my tea (you are talking to one of your deities). I thought I was the healer in the relationship and maybe I let my ego get bigger than it needed to be just because I did some shadow work. Honestly I hate to say it but I think I stereotyped him … I was so sure he was emotionally unavailable … the whole time I was the guard up one. I remember when he first approached me it was in such an awkward setting (an embarrassing thing that can happen to you on the mundane: Toilet paper on your shoes, blood spotting in your bottoms, maybe your drink spilled all over you.) and he offered to help me. You know me … I don’t have shame because life is life. Nobody is going to remember me in 5 years if I fell on my ass or throw up in the bush after the club and even if they do … fuck them, we ball. He offered his help with a charming smile, Goddess does he smell good. Thank you so much for the tall setting on him … I was starting to lose hope. Offering me paper and running a hand on my back while I threw up in the bush while my other friend is stopping my homegirl from sending her nudes to her boss. (Chuckle) How did he survive such an overstimulating experience ? A crazy girl yelling her sexual fantasy about a man twice her age, while another trying to take the phone away from her and me completely sick on knees vomiting my life away. Yet he was cracking jokes and comforting me. I still remember : ‘’ No you fine baby … No you don't smell, I swear all I can smell is roses. What was that princess ? Can you repeat ? Yes… Thank you baby … I also think you are smoking hot. I would love to talk but let's make sure you are fine first …’’ ( You heart skip a beat, You take a break from writing to enjoy the butterfly in your stomach). His voice adhfbhfnekihgejkng, fuck and dont get me started when his dirty talking me or moaning on top of me. Still can't believe he took my number and called me first in the morning making sure I am fine. Over the months we got closer, no pressure since he already saw me at my worst. We both realize that harboring love was more complicated than we thought but we want each other so bad. My hyper independence had the best of us because I made him think that he was useless. The way I treated him made him feel like I was using him just for entertainment. I made him insecure regarding his intentions, his real feelings and actions because I am not going to lie when he opens up about his past … I started projecting all the men  that hurted me and just distance myself. On his side his separation anxiety is quite overbearing. Always having to text him, calling him and showing him a picture of where I was. Before we knew it, loving each other became a task. A tarot reading later, he texts me randomly and asks me for a second chance. What ? What was I supposed to do ? He invited me to his house and cooked for me. Than gave me a foot massage while we watched one of my trashy TV shows. One thing lead to the other, the flirtatious comment, the sneaky touch, the meal, the clean house, him without a tee-shirt, me in my cute 2 piece, the glasses of wine and before I knew it we were confessing once again our love promising each other to do the wok require to make it work. Honestly I have so much faith in us. He’s the only one that actually sees me. Lol he even gave me a box of beautiful crystals … you would have folded 2, if it were u. 

(The bell of your house goes off. Somebody calls your name downstair, a flower bouquet is waiting for you. You never finish the letter.)

You are going to marry this person but unlike the other girly pop a key moment of y’all relationship came through instead of marriage. Which I didn't even ask for marriage to come through just for your future spouse to do. So it's actually a coincidence that the 2 other piles came through with their wedding specifically. 

[bambidixon]

After reading Daryl with a weird girlfriend I now need a headcanon of Daryl with a whimsical and witchy girlfriend/wife! I just imagine him collecting crystals and herbs for her and finding her quirks silly at first, but adorable as he falls in love with her

I really love the concept I think it would be such a sweet dynamic and I've been thinking about it a lot so I'm gonna share my favorite headcanons about it

🌕 Daryl doesn’t really believe in the spiritual side of things, but if his girl says a certain rock will keep him safe, he’s not gonna argue. He starts picking up interesting stones and crystals he finds on the road, even if he doesn’t know what they are. Sometimes he just shoves them in his pocket and later hands them over with a gruff, “Figured you’d like this.”

🌕 Whenever she’s out gathering herbs and flowers, Daryl keeps a watchful eye, crossbow in hand, ready to protect her. He listens to her ramble about the uses of each plant—not because he understands all of it not even because I think it really works, but because he likes the sound of her voice. Eventually, he starts recognizing a few and picks them himself when he’s out alone. He comes back with clumsy little bundles of herbs, muttering, “This the right one?”

🌕 Daryl doesn’t really get why she talks to the water or whispers to the wind, but he doesn’t question it either. If it makes her feel safe, that’s all that matters. Sometimes, when she’s not looking, he’ll murmur a quiet “thanks” to the river after filling their bottles, out of habit, just in case...

🌕He always drinks the teas she makes, even the bitter ones. He doesn’t care if they’re for energy, healing, or just comfort—if she hands him a cup, he’s drinking it. He won’t admit it, but he’s come to associate the taste of her herbal brews with warmth and home.

🌕 She tucks small crystals into his pockets before he heads out, calling them his “protection.” He doesn’t get it, but he lets her do it anyway. He never takes them out, and if anyone ever pointed them out, he’d just grumble and change the subject.

🌕 She teaches him little things to help with nightmares—putting lavender under his pillow, drawing sigils on his skin with a gentle finger before bed. He doesn’t say much about it, but he sleeps better when she does.

🌕 On quiet nights, she lights candles and hums little spells while Daryl watches from the doorway, arms crossed but eyes soft. He’s not sure he believes in magic, but he believes in her, and maybe that’s the same thing.

(if something is not accurate y'all tell me all i know about witches and witchcraft is what i learned in quarantine while I was obsessed with becoming a witch)

[fairylibe]

between us and the moon.

1415 words. angst with some comfort, highly interpretive. based on jude's past records. features: child! jude jazza & kate, victor.

꒰ summary ꒱ kate gives child! jude a hug. some inspiration was taken from this fanart.

(I)

wherever he went, the moon followed.

the moonlight seemed so bright, jude couldn’t help but look down at the concrete.

today as well, the work was grueling.

but when he saw a familiar figure upon pushing the heavy door open, his heart lightened up just a little, and his features softened a tad.

“big brother, you’re home! what took ya so long?”

“took a detour.” jude collapsed on the floor, letting out a sigh.

the person before him tilted their head. “from where? goin’ through the nooks n’ crannies this time o’ night can be dangerous, ya know.”

jude closed his eyes for a moment — when he did, an image flashed in his mind.

“…today was a full moon.”

“hehe, thinkin’ ‘bout our promise? don’t go thinkin’ ‘bout breakin’ it.”

jude showed a small smile.

“…don’t matter if i gotta use money, magic, ya name it. someday, i’ll make it happen.”

——how could he not, when the image in his mind was engraved in his soul so deeply?

indeed, it was so clear, it could probably last ten thousand years.

(II)

“wow, the moon is so big…” as kate walked down the hallway, she looked out the window.

outside, the moon hung from the sky, so full and large she felt she could touch it.

“they say witchcraft’s at its strongest when the moon is at its largest.”

“eek!” kate jumped and turned around, seeing victor standing right behind her. “v-victor! don’t scare me like that!”

“haha, you must’ve been fairly out of it if you didn’t notice. bewitched by the moon tonight?”

“hm? oh, i guess…” kate’s voice trailed off as she looked back out the window.

victor’s gaze followed, his voice remaining lighthearted. “i have a tickling feeling some magic is going to happen tonight.”

kate chuckled as well at his somewhat theatric words. “what, are you holding another magic show?”

“aw, miss kate, could it be you miss my magic shows? you know i’m always happy to show you my tricks.” victor’s eyes were like crescents as he smiled, but then his expression recomposed. “…but i mean a different type of magic this time.”

“a different type?”

the corner of his lips quirked up as he brought his index finger up.

“be careful when opening doors after the clock strikes midnight. if you open the wrong door at the wrong time, i can’t guarantee you will be able to return safely until the next full moon.”

(III)

“▧▧▧▧, ya doin’ okay?”

they laid on the bed — a far cry from the energetic disposition they had just some time before.

now, coughing was a regular occurrence. sometimes, they would shiver as well.

jude held onto their hand, grasping it as tightly as his coarse fingers could.

it was as though he wanted to capture any sign of warmth.

or before that, he wanted to find a semblance of it.

“i’m…sorry…”

their voice came out as a raspy whisper before more coughing resounded in the room. the hand jude held gently held his back in a silent urge for him to relax.

although it did little to ease his mind.

after all, what they had couldn’t be treated without medicine.

and medicine costed money — more money than what he could currently make in a year, he reckoned.

jude clicked his tongue, more so annoyed at himself than anything else. but this only elicited an amused, albeit weak chuckle from his sibling.

“why so hard on yourself?” ▧▧▧▧ lifted jude’s hand, and he let them guide his hand as though they were the moon. “…you’re already like the moon to me. so that’s why…”

“▧▧▧▧…” jude’s voice trailed off, his amethyst eyes becoming more misty as he heard their voice fade into a whisper.

“that’s why…if i can stay by your side…that is more than enough.”

“then i’ll stay by your side,” jude replied, “it’s a promise ‘til the end.”

they gave jude a smile before turning their head to look up at the moon, high above the sky.

“i wonder how far the moon is,” they murmured.

jude didn’t know the answer then.

he eventually did find out —— but only when their voice faded to nothingness.

(IV)

kate couldn’t get victor’s words out of her head.

maybe he was indeed joking, but also…what if he was not? what would happen, then, were she to open a door she shouldn’t have?

sighing while mulling over her own thoughts, she turned the doorknob to her door, eager to plop onto the soft sheets of her bed, when——

“ahhh?!”

opening the door, she was greeted by a blinding light.

so bright…!

it took her a minute to adjust to her surroundings, her eyes slowly presenting her with a sight that looked somewhat familiar, but was also a far cry from her room.

“w-w-w-wha…”

the first thing she saw was a fight breaking out.

or…it wasn’t so much of a fight as it was a child, a boy who couldn’t have passed his teen years, getting beaten by some adults.

what stood out to kate was the amethyst-colored eyes this child had, which seemed to gleam with an unyielding flame of determination, only kindled by the inevitable pain.

what is going on?!

kate was bewildered, for sure, but also, she wanted to help that child as well.

her body moved on her own then.

“stop right there!!”

the child’s eyes widened, but he quickly recomposed himself. it would appear he was accustomed to such situations.

the attackers tried to retaliate, but they didn’t know that kate had a good mentor named roger when it came to the art of self defense.

when the attackers fled (not without spitting on the ground in contempt though), kate turned toward the child.

it was then she noticed his silver hair with black streaks.

“you…”

is this jude?

kate reached out to him to check to see if he was hurt, but the boy slapped her hand away, shooting kate a glare.

“i never asked for your help, ya goody two shoes.”

well, that was more than enough to answer the question that popped into her mind some mere seconds before.

(V)

who knows how much time had passed.

the first few days, kate ran into (child) jude, and he would swat her hand away, glare at her, and run off somewhere she didn’t know.

he kind of reminded her of a cat.

but as a bit more time went on, the two started making small talk.

“how long are you going to eat stale bread?”

“none o’ ya darn business.”

“actually, i think i have very valid concerns about your health, jude——ah.”

kate put her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

jude looked at her, his brows raised.

“i didn’t tell ya my name. what does that make ya, a stalker?”

“no way!”

and, as a week passed, kate would sometimes find jude sitting on top of some burlap sacks piled on top of one another, looking up at the sky.

usually, his amethyst eyes had some fire in them, but when they looked at the moon, they seemed so dull in comparison. it was like he was deep in thought, but said thoughts weighed down on him, making him look far from a child.

one day — or one night — for the first time perhaps, jude asked kate a question.

“…how far is the moon?”

“…around 385,000 kilometers.” adult you told me at one point, after all.

jude spared kate a side glance before looking back up. “…i see.” after a pause, his next words came out in a murmur. “maybe if i met ya sooner, things would’ve been different.”

somehow, seeing his profile in the darkness, illuminated only by the silver moonlight, made him seem infinitely lonely…

and kate couldn’t help herself as she wrapped her arms around jude.

at first, he stiffened, but he didn’t push her away; he likely didn’t have much vigor to do so at this point.

no words were exchanged between them, but none were needed.

but then, another question seemingly whispered in kate’s ears.

“then, do ya think it’s possible to go to the moon?”

it seemed like a simple question, and yet at the same time so vulnerable for a reason kate didn’t know of.

“yes,” she replied after a pause, “i do.”

“hah, ya sure know how to be a goody two shoes.”

but for the first time since she came to this mysterious world, she felt arms wrap around her back.

fin.

꒰ tag list . ꒱ @drachonia @weepinglycoris @velisle @candiedcoffeedrops @judesmoonbeauty @.comment to be added or removed!

[mya-valentine]

Headcanon: Class 1-A with a Witchcraft-quirk Classmate

Request: Could I request headcanons for Class A (platonic) with a reader who has a witchcraft quirk being able to do witch-related things like spellwork, rituals, sacrifices, alters, transformations, working with spirits and collecting loads of things like rocks, crystals, bones, and all that fun stuff. Their magic usually works but they have occasionally slip ups (like how they accidentally turned themselves and the whole class into wolves for a week-). They also have a long tail, it reflecting their emotions similarly to a dog’s tail. They’re a bit of an oddball but they are willing to use their powers to help out the people they care about like crafting the special magical items for their friends when needed be or putting a curse on someone.”

The class admires your quirk, but they’re definitely a little spooked when they first meet you. The jars of bones, crystals, and dried herbs you keep in your dorm? Very cool but also mildly unsettling.

Sero, Kaminari, and Mina are obsessed with the aesthetics of your quirk. They constantly ask for enchanted items that look magical, even if they don’t actually do anything. (Sero: "Can you make me a glowing necklace? Please?")

Iida tries to be supportive but gets very concerned whenever you perform rituals in your dorm. He has knocked on your door during full moons like, “This is highly inappropriate behavior for a student! Are you conducting a summoning ritual?!”

Tokoyami thinks you’re a kindred spirit. The two of you often talk about mystical energy, symbols, and the darkness beyond the veil. He loves your quirk and often refers to you as “Fellow Seeker of the Arcane.”

Shoto is weirdly chill with you. He likes the oddness of your vibe and even asked if you could enchant his scarf to keep him warmer in the winter.

Midoriya: He’s completely fascinated by the mechanics of your quirk. He bombards you with questions about spellwork and the science behind it. After the wolf incident, he started taking detailed notes on how to avoid quirk malfunctions.

Ochaco: She loves the magical trinkets you make, especially ones that bring good luck. She wears the small charm bracelet you crafted for her every day and swears it helped her ace a difficult test.

Kirishima: He asks if you can make magical charms for the whole class to protect them in battle. You do, but they’re slightly cursed because the spell went too well. Now everyone in the class trips over their words when they’re lying.

Momo: You and Momo bond over making things! She’s fascinated by your collection of ingredients and often provides you with rare or hard-to-find items for your rituals.

Jirou: Jirou occasionally joins your spirit communication sessions just to hear the eerie sounds. She claims it’s for inspiration, but she secretly loves the vibe of it.

Your tail becomes a source of comedy in the dorms. Kaminari and Mina try to guess your mood based on how it’s wagging or drooping. It’s a problem during combat training, though, because your tail always gives away your emotions. Aizawa had to sit you down and suggest “strategic tail control.”

One time, you put a mild curse on Mineta when he tried to touch your spell jars without permission. He spent the whole day covered in glitter and smelling like lavender.

You’ve accidentally summoned a spirit in the dorms before. The entire class freaked out until you calmly explained that “Oh, that’s just Greg. He’s chill.”

You often leave small charms or sigils in your classmates' dorms for protection or good luck. Some of them notice, like Jirou and Todorok, and thank you; others don’t, but you don’t mind. You’re just happy to help.

You and Bakugo ended up bonding in an unexpected way when he asked you to curse a rival hero student during the sports festival. You didn’t, but he appreciated your energy.

Your accidental wolf transformation incident is infamous. It started as a running joke in the class, but now they’re genuinely terrified when you say, “Trust me, I’ve got this!”

The whole class howled at the moon together, partially because they couldn’t resist and partially to tease you about it.

Bakugo hated every second and was this close to blowing something up. His tail wagging when he got mad was not helping.

Mina insisted on taking group photos of everyone as wolves. She still has the pictures on her phone. (Don't ask me how she took the picture, idk😭)

Midoriya was furiously trying to figure out how the transformation worked so you could reverse it. Meanwhile, Tokoyami fully embraced being a wolf and ran around quoting edgy lines about “tasting the wild.”

Even weeks after turning back, some of the class jokingly scratch behind their ears or growl when talking to you.

You’ve helped Todoroki meditate with enchanted candles that release soothing, temperature-neutral scents. He swears they’ve helped him focus more in battle.

When Kirishima felt nervous before a big fight, you gave him a bravery charm that glows faintly red. It became his good luck charm, and he always has it during missions.

You and Uraraka worked together to make protective charms for her family. She cried when you handed them over.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[ghastlyfilters]

the valeska twins having a witch s/o!! (or a s/o who loves the concept and idea of witchcraft)

pairing(s): implied jeremiah valeska and jerome valeska x reader

warning(s): absolutely none! but if anyone who reads this doesn’t agree with wicca and bashes it, js leave man 😭

(got this as a little idea because i myself study wicca, and my mother is a grey witch and eclectic. so when i went into town the other day and went into one of my fav wiccan shops, i couldn’t help but think of these two!! also it’s 2am so i’m so sorry for not proof reading this!)

JEROME

• Jerome definitely has no knowledge on witchcraft whatsoever.

• Sure, he knew the whole fortune telling thing from Mr Cicero in the circus and had a few readings from him (back before he knew that was his father) but if you’d have asked him if he believed it, he would have immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

• He doesn’t want to judge you as he’s realised how passionate you are about your beliefs, but he was a little uninterested in learning about the history of it all.

“So you know about Salem, right? The Witch trials?”

“… Salem? Ain’t that where they filmed Hocus Pocus?”

“JEROME!”

• It took a while to get him to take it all in, but you were surprised to find out he actually enjoyed the weeks you spent teaching him on the history of how your beliefs came to be.

• You have to be careful on when you decide to burn incense. If you choose to, make sure Jerome ain’t lurking around. He’s oddly got quite a sensitive nose. So most incense sticks make him sneeze or he either complains about the smell. Shame.

• On nights he feels particularly loopy, he begs you to give him a tarot reading. You were shocked the first time he asked, but you kept putting it off, telling him he had to be in the right mindset for both him and yourself to focus.

• When you DID however give in and do his cards one day, he got the death card, and began to freak out.. not knowing that the death card didn’t necessarily mean death itself.

“DOLL, IF I DIE NOW.. I WANT IT TO BE ON MY OWN TERMS!”

“Jerome that’s not-”

“I HATE THIS.”

• He knocked SEVERAL candles over during that one reading, and when his coat caught on fire.. yeah it was time to stop..

• There’s been days you’ve felt his energy, being the empath that you are. And you know when he’s thinking about his childhood again.

• You asked him if you could do a little something for him with some of your oils, just to perhaps protect him from any negative thoughts that directed back to his past.

• Everytime you light a candle for yourself or others, you have to remind Jerome each time. If you don’t, he’ll just blow it out and walk right past.

• He fucking LOVES your ring collection. There’s a specific ring you have that he finds rather amusing to look at. It’s moonstone, and you’ve found him sitting playing with it on multiple occasions. It really is eye catching.

• His fav crystals are definitely Tiger’s Eye and Lapis Lazuli.

• He had no clue there were different types of witches. Black, grey, white, red, green. And many more.

“What about ginger witches?”

“Well- okay yeah I suppose they exist too..”

• Overall, your beliefs are another quirk that Jerome finds so intriguing about you. He knows that when he’s with you, he’s protected. As you are with him.

JEREMIAH (POST SPRAY)

• Unlike his brother, Jeremiah does actually have some knowledge on witchcraft. Mostly because his adopted family when he was sent away were Christians, and always spoke of Wicca as satanic worship. But Jeremiah wasn’t that stupid.

• He actually showers you with new gifts that you can use for what you do. And he LOVES the scent of incense. So he makes sure you’re stocked up on that at all times.

• Jeremiah actually came forward to you once about something he’d never really been able to talk about to anyone. And he had wondered if you’d be able to make this specific thing go away. Jeremiah had a certain sleep paralysis demon torment him for years, and unfortunately he’d had to grow used to it. But when he figured out there was things you could do to help, he knew to approach you about it.

• He’s very interested in your clairvoyance. You’ve told him about visions you’ve had in dreams, and it’s always intrigued him. But he’s even more surprised when your visions have came to be. Some unwanted, some rather pleasant.

• However, when it comes to readings, he’s a bit cocky. He likes to think he already knows what his future holds.

• Whenever Jeremiah feels awfully run down or fatigued, he enjoys allowing you to rub oils on his temples. This is more often than you’d think. When you tell him to close his eyes, he does so. And the more you try to relax him, the more it gives him the tingles. He actually shivers at the thought of it. He loves it.

• He knows the Mercury Retrograde means a lot to you, so when you insist on having to do your own little private things for that occasion, he doesn’t bother you.

• He’s watched you burning your intentions on little notes from inside of his hideout. He thinks you standing there as the smoke from your small cauldron descends into the night air is quite a beautiful sight.

• Jeremiah used to get awful night terrors in his bunker, and even now he still uses the method you always instructed him to vision. He imagines himself in a mirrored dome, his desires and whatever he values are inside with him. Whatever is on the outside stays on the outside. And anything that’s inside, including himself, is along the mirrors facing the outside. Meaning that the mirrors are a method of not allowing anything else in.

• Yes, Jeremiah is rather private about all of this, but he’s found great comfort in using strategies you’ve taught him. Like Jerome, he feels very protected with you. And you’ve helped him get rid of many things that once stood in his way. But beware. There’s also many things Jeremiah might try and use, that perhaps go a little too far in your books..

YOOOOOO THIS WAS INCREDIBLY FUN TO MAKE!! i know it’s been a while since i last wrote, but i am slowly coming back. so why not start off with the two most memorable we all know and love? <3

[dhampling]

bramble jam girl!dadstarion, <1k

“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!” “In what realm would we need this much jam?” - (x reader) christening this most inaugural of dadstarion fridays with the most fang-rottingly sweet fluff i could muster. enjoy! w/c: 700+

He kneels next to her with a pensive furrow, the critical moment; small wooden spoon in hand nudging little closed lips smeared already in a sticky purple. 

Bated breath. 

Astarion taps as her mouth remains closed. She looks at him with the same half-baked incredulous look he gives you - a firm ‘no’, with notes of why would you even ask me to do this, you freak?

“Come on! It’s delicious. Look!”

He lifts the spoon to his own mouth and pokes his tongue just past his lips, darting briefly into the bizarre gloop. 

The resulting wince is priceless. It tastes of nothing to him; of cinders and dead syrup. The wobble of a smile as he aims to convince her that whatever the spoon yields is lovely wrapped in a deeply unsatisfied ‘mmm’. 

Looks at him with genuine disgust. She’s too perceptive. 

Behind his back the kitchen sits a picture of disarray - spattered in bramble pulp and dotted with various wooden stirrers, bubbling cauldron atop the stove, littered granules of sugar now crystalline on both the countertop and your floor. 

“What is this?” You break your cover, his head whipping round to find yours sheepishly.

“I made jam! She won’t eat it.” 

A feeble quirk of his lips. Whoopsie! 

“Why would she eat plain jam?”

“Why wouldn’t she! Yummy jam! Yum!” He speaks in a sing-song lilt, cracking in sleep-deprivation.

“Why have you used all my brambles on said jam?”

The tar-like brew looks awful. Thick and dark, smelling of dark sugar and burnt lemon. He winces once more.

“I thought it’d be nice! Everyone likes jam!”

“In what realm would we need this much jam?”

The shoulders sag and he stands from his kneel, tilting his head to look at her and putting the spoon on the bare table. You fight the instinct to roll your eyes knowing full well he won’t be the one wiping the sticky spot later.

“I don’t know! Jam!”

Hands wide around his head, a tired smile wracked with mirth. Eyes round.

He tried. He really did try. Recipe book pages open on the side now splattered with maroon fruit juice. The air is thick with the smell of sugar. You take a spoon from the silverware drawer and try a little straight from the pan, blowing the purple globule to cool it; and it isn’t bad in the slightest. 

Not particularly good, granted, but he’s neglected the aromatics - you presume because his target audience is just breaching a year old. You clear your throat in preparation for the most saccharine baby voice you can muster.

“Little love! Look!” 

You take the spoon from Astarion and suckle on the cool jam, smiling animatedly and nodding in visible contentment. A joyous ‘mmm’. 

She watches on with genuine awe. Nods along. Her own attempt at a ‘mmm’ sounding more like a kitten mewl. Chubby fingers reaching for your spoon in little bunny bounces until her face looks to be on the verge of crumpling with want.

He watches on in amazed resent, eyes soft. 

“She can tell you don’t like it. That’s why she doesn’t want it.” 

You refill her spoon from the pot and blow over it for a minute or two while he lifts her gently from the ornate baby chair and brings her little form over. 

“That was witchcraft. I’m calling in on the nearest guild of mage-breakers first thing, you know.” He whispers as she burbles and reaches out for your warm hands. You press a small kiss to the high of his cheekbone. 

She grabs messily for the spoon as you bring it to her lips. Opens wide in anticipation of ‘the red dragon’; one of the smallest seeds on top of the gloopy pile christened after Lae’zel with both you and Astarion wailing in mock horror as she eats your long-time friend. Her little laugh is like a singing bell, the messy flicks of her tongue as she relishes the taste and bounces in his arms.

“No. She simply just reveres you. Why would she eat something if she knows you don’t like it? Clearly something of a tastemaker in those little eyes.” You smile at him with a slow blink.

He looks to you and back to her with the warmth of a Kythorn highsun. Rests his head atop yours.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up April 2025 (ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

I’ll Be Seeing You by leevansalmon @meemoop

Draco Malfoy had been a picture-perfect, pure-blood wizard. Never stepping out of line, Draco had his whole life practically planned out for him. However, during the final parts of his third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco Malfoy had made a daunting discovery. Something was definitely wrong with him. It was on his fourteenth birthday that Draco had the first of many prophetic visions. Tents up in flames, a goblet, a dragon, a body of water, and more… In the event of a budding war, Draco Malfoy’s newfound psychic abilities interfere with his already increasingly complicated life. Navigating growing pains, family disputes, romance and war, Malfoy discovers who he is. Rec Post

The Love That Has To Keep Shouting Its Name aka Hero Harry’s Attention-Seeking Actions a Huge Howl for Help by twistedmiracle

In which Harry fights with the Wizarding press, befriends a Muggle role model, explores his political-activist side, and buys rather a lot of flowers. Rec Post

Lily’s Boy by SomewheresSword

Before his third year of Hogwarts has even begun, Harry faces three whole weeks of unsupervised time in Diagon Alley. In that time he takes a trip to Gringotts - and that changes everything. Burdened with the knowledge that Dumbledore has been blocking his family magic, and manipulating far more than he ever thought possible, Harry doesn’t know who he can trust; but he knows he can’t keep going that way. There’s a whole world of lore and politics and history to catch up on, and the more he learns, the more Harry realises his true place in the world, and how much is being kept hidden from him. All the while, Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes are constantly watching, and Harry can’t let on how much he knows. With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans’ son, and she was one hell of a witch. Rec Post

Hiding In Plain Sight by okydoky

When the pressures of fame become too much, Harry Potter disappears into the Muggle world. However, when a desperate Professor McGonagall begs for his help he’s dragged back to Hogwarts, for a more difficult set of circumstances than he has come across before. Rec Post

Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by sobsicles @sobsicles

When Harry fails to keep his anger at bay and Voldemort possesses his mind, the events that follow lead him down a long road to realizing the world isn’t as black and white as it seems. Chaos, hilarity, and tragedy ensue with a Dark Lord being honest all the time, a rival becoming something else, and a world demanding to be saved. Featuring frightened Death Eaters, deep conversations with a monster, Pureblood traditions being ridiculous, and the fight to do the right thing with no true options. Harry’s life just gets more and more bizarre with each passing moment. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆

In a Year’s Turning by hoko_onchi @hoko-onchi-writes

They’ve avoided one another for nine years. Managed not to run into one another during the week of Andy’s funerary rites. They’ve glimpsed one another several times. But they never came close enough to speak. Draco’s kept to their rules for most of a decade. Letters only. Plans for Teddy. Updates on Pansy’s gardens. No references to the Christmas of 2001. Draco spares a moment to grieve that he couldn’t have put this off another nine years. Then, he turns. “Hi,” Harry says. Draco’s throat aches. “Hello. It’s been a while.” Harry quirks a smile. "I wondered where that top went." -- Or: Harry is struggling to raise Teddy by himself. Enter Draco.

My Mate by maraudersaffair  @maraudersaffair

Harry is a new Alpha and Draco is his Omega Healer. Draco wants to help Harry but Draco struggles to control himself whenever he is around. And Harry wants to breed Draco. Desperately so. Things come to a head when Draco and Harry become trapped with one another. Draco doesn't have his suppressant and it sends them both into heat. While they wait for help, will Draco be able to avoid being claimed by Harry? Does he even want to avoid it? Harry is gorgeous and strong, and Draco would love to have him as a mate. He just can't fathom a world where Harry Potter willingly chooses him.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖