#yes even you sybil

[cakesandfail]

Ah fuck I just got to the description of Vimes's room

I just... oof. By this point there's been descriptions of Vimes, Vetinari, and Sybil's living arrangements, and while Sybil does at least have some stuff that she likes in her bedroom the overall effect of the three makes me feel really sad

I know they all get better at living a life where they're actually happy and at least two of them are heading that way already now but I also just think, like... can you three fucking look after yourselves please, I understand the impulse to devote yourself entirely to a city and/or grubby little creature but despite all the collective adolescent trauma you do in fact deserve better than this

[lilithofpenandbook]

It makes me SO MAD when people say "there are kind Slytherins 🥺🥺🥺" and show a picture of fucking SLUGHORN

Slughorn? You mean "oh I didn't think a muggleborn would be this talented" Slughorn?

Slughorn as in the Slughorn who told Tom Riddle, a child KNOWN for being a lil twisted, about HORCRUXES just to look good?

Slughorn who didn't even notice a fucking cult being formed in his own house???

People like to blame Dumbledore for the cult, but tell me why it's his fault and not the HEAD. OF. HOUSE? Dumbledore isn't an all powerful all seeing wizard! He's a human who happens to be intelligent and skilled at magic but NOT All Seeing! How is he gonna know Tom Riddle's forming a cult when one) he wasn't even HEADMASTER and two) SLUGHORN was Tom's head of house and should have been aware of it happening UNDER. HIS. NOSE?

Like, even in Snape's time, where the fuck was Horace Slughorn? Where was he when the Mauraders were abusing his own student? Where was he when Lucius and the others were grooming the younger children? Where was he when all of this was happening?

Yes, McGonagall should have disciplined her students. But Slughorn's under a greater responsibility to protect his. Yes, headmaster Dumbledore should have probably intervened in the cult forming. But Slughorn's under a greater responsibility to intervene and inform the headmaster.

For fuck's sake, he wasn't even a good teacher! How did a 16 year old child manage to correct all the incorrect potions in the book and not the FUCKING. TEACHER?!

Horace Slughorn is NOT a "kind Slytherin".

He's the worst one.

[direwombat]

high and very much in an "emo about my oc" mood ;w;

[stupidphototricks]

More Cheery Littlebottom, talking to Vimes (her commanding officer, hence the "sir"):

"Is that what you'll be wearing, Cheery?" "Yes, sir." "But it's just... ordinary dwarf clothes. Trousers and everything." "Yes, sir." "But Sybil said you'd got a fetching little green number and a helmet with a feather in it." "Yes, sir." "You're free to wear whatever you want, you know that." "Yes, sir. And then I thought about Dee. And I watched the king when he was talking to you, and... well, I can wear what I like, sir. That's the point. I don't have to wear that dress. I can wear what I like. I don't have to wear something just because other people don't want me to. Anyway, it made me look a rather stupid lettuce." -- Terry Pratchett,The Fifth Elephant (emphasis on "don't" added by me because I think it's important)

One of the many things that Sir Terry was excellent at is writing characters that start out as caricatures, and end up being the realest people ever. Cheery Littlebottom, who by the name is obviously a throwaway ridiculous character. And dwarfs in general (on Discworld, dwarfs and humans are two of many intelligent species) are absurd. Dwarfs sing songs about gold, they make inedible bread that's mostly used as weapons, they all have beards and wear helmets and carry axes. And yet. By the time you finish the book, real.

Now about Discworld dwarfs and gender. In dwarf society, gender is largely ignored and almost irrelevant; all dwarfs use the same pronouns, dress the same, do the same jobs. Gender-based discrimination can't even exist! I mean. Women in the real world have been fighting for this sort of equality for decades, right?

But it's not quite right. There's "equal," and then there's "being exactly the same as everyone else." So there are dwarfs who rebel against the homogeneous status quo by choosing to use different pronouns (she/her), and wear dresses and makeup.

Gender expression! It's a battle against the old ways, but dwarfs are good at fighting.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 2

Summary: Your rivalry with Remus continues as you spend a night out with his friends at Sirius’ concert.

CW: Alcohol Consumption, mentions of vomit (briefly), references to sex.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x reader

Chapter 1

—

A few days later and you were finally settling into your new home. And as far as roommates go, the boys were pretty good ones.

James was usually out early in the morning at the gym or Rugby training and he’d often return with coffees for everyone. Sirius was a natural born entertainer and always had a joke or a silly anecdote to amuse you with when you returned home from work.

It was just Remus that hadn’t warmed up to you yet. However, you had no idea why. You’d done everything you could think of to win him over. You cleaned up the kitchen for him before he got home from his lectures, you left extra for him when cooking dinner, you even offered to do his laundry when he was too busy studying for upcoming exams. But still, nothing. No matter what you did, you were greeted with a cold disinterest and one word answers.

By the time the weekend rolled around, you were exhausted, both from him and your long week at work. You were hugely looking forward to Sirius’ show. You figured it’d be the perfect way to unwind.

—

You were squashed into a booth next to James and a girl named Dorcas, twirling your straw in your hand.

The bar was full, thick with energy and cigarette smoke. It was dimly lit, some dive down a back alley. Apparently Sirius and his band played here every Saturday night.

“So y/n! Mary tells me you want to be a writer!” Lily called across the table, barely audible over the clattering of glasses and loud talking that filled the room

“Yeah, it’s something I’m working towards,” you replied. “Although I’ve been working on my novel for a couple of years now but it’s still not quite there yet.”

“Oh cool!” Peter chimed in. He was sitting beside his girlfriend Sybil, a hand around hers under the table. They looked positively smitten with each other. It reminded you of how glaringly single you were.

“What’s your book about?” Dorcas asked.

You sighed. “I guess you could call it a fantasy.”

“Oh is it one of those ones about wizards and magic and stuff?” James pondered enthusiastically.

“I mean, kind of? Not really.” You replied.

“Oh good,” Dorcas mused. “I don’t really like those kinds of stories. I’ve always found them to be a bit childish. I mean, the idea of wizards living amongst us? it’s a bit absurd if you ask me.”

You giggled. “Yes well, I’d say mine is more of a high fantasy. Anyway, enough about me. What do you all do for work?”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Well, I’m a primary school teacher.” Lily offered.

“Oh wow. And how do enjoy that?”

She giggled, her dimples appearing as she did. You had to admit, she was stunningly beautiful, with long auburn hair and astonishing sea-foam eyes. You understood why James had been pining after her for so long.

“I love it,” she responded. “It’s wonderful knowing you’re able to shape a young person’s life.”

“That sounds really rewarding,” you responded.

“It is,” she smiled. “But it’s far from impressive compared to what some of the others do. I mean, Dorcas here is a lawyer and Remus is studying to be a doctor!”

Eyes fell on Remus and you watched as he recoiled slightly under the attention.

As the conversation drew on, you learned that Peter was a Banker, Sybil read tarot cards for a living and Dorcas’ girlfriend Marlene played lead guitar in Sirius’ band.

“Just wait until you see her,” Mary exclaimed. “She’s incredible.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” You replied. You took another sip of your drink and realised you’d finished your glass. Upon looking around the table you saw that the others were in a similar position.

“Looks like I’m in need of a refill. Next round is on me guys!”

There was a slew of cheers from the group as you slid out of the booth and made your way towards the bar. You placed your order and then took a seat on a stool as you waited for the drinks to be made.

You were scrolling through instagram when you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, your heart sank slightly when you noticed it was Remus.

“I thought you could use some help carrying everything,” he muttered, taking a seat beside you.

“Thanks but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah well, I could use some space. The table was getting a little crowded.”

Your eyes raked over his figure, you saw the was he was nervously fiddling with his hands. It dawned on you that maybe the bar scene wasn’t really his thing so much as it was his friends’. He seemed to be a little overwhelmed.

“Okay,” you relented.

A few drinks were placed on a tray in front of you, and Remus reached out to grab his, taking a long sip. Your eyebrows raised.

“You’re drinking straight whisky? That’s pretty hardcore.”

“It’s referred to as a whisky neat,” he responded matter-of-factly (as if you hadn’t been the one to order it for him). “And it really isn’t that bad. I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. Why? What did you order.”

“A gin and tonic.”

“Exactly my point.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. You could help but scoff.

“Are you implying that I can’t hold my alcohol?”

Remus shrugged, taking another sip. “I’m just saying that some people have a higher tolerance is all.”

A mix of irritation and downright anger began to build in your gut. You’d had enough of him. His coldness towards you, his constant condescending remarks. Fuck it, you thought, I’m done being nice. If he wanted to start something, then so be it.

“Fine,” you challenged. “If you’re so sure about that, £20 says that I can out-drink you tonight.”

He turned to face you, a brow quirked questioningly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shake on it, Remus.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

You shook hands. Then you turned to the bartender.

“Excuse me, I’d like to change my order. Could I get a whisky, neat?”

—

The band came on around 10pm and the crowd cheered wildly.

Sirius was the first to enter, clad in black and leather, looking like a true rockstar.

His eyes twinkled beneath the stage lights. Even on the narrow bar stage, he managed to look ethereal.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd roared once more, you among them.

“That’s good! We’re Snakes and Lions and we have a few songs to play for you. Is that alright?”

The crowed cheered again.

As the first notes of the song trickled through the room, you couldn’t help but stare up at Sirius. His long flowing hair, the tattoos that peaked out from under his black tank top, the way his eyeliner brought out the grey of his eyes.

A glance to Remus beside you, told you he was feeling the same way. He was staring up at Sirius like he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And you couldn’t blame him.

Still, you felt and odd pang of jealously shoot through your gut.

You decided to push it down, instead venturing to the bar for another drink.

As the set drew on, you could feel yourself beginning to sway, not only from the music but also the alcohol in your blood.

The room began to blur in a dizzying haze and you found yourself leaning into James who stood beside you, for support.

You continued to watch Sirius perform, entranced by the way he moved around the stage, his voice baring into your very soul.

At one point, when he he introduced the band (Barty on drums, Marlene on lead guitar, Evan on rhythm guitar and his little brother Regulus on bass), he sent you a wink and you felt your heart leap in your chest. You felt like you were watching a celebrity.

Still, amidst the music, your mind continued to wander to Remus. Your bet had carried on and you continued to down drink after drink out of sheer spite.

You were determined to beat him. Determined to prove that you could hold your own, that there was a spot for you in his home, whether he liked it or not.

By the time the band finished playing, you were far past the point of no return.

—

There was a light on somewhere. It was too bright, shining directly into your eyes. You groaned and rolled over, sinking in to your mattress. You tried to go back to sleep but you couldn’t. You needed to get up and turn the light off.

As you blinked your eyes open, you realised the light wasn’t in fact coming from the ceiling but from a window.

That’s odd, you thought, I don’t remember there being a window there.

The room was blurry as you looked around. It was clearly morning, that much you could tell, and there was a throbbing pain in your head. Last night was definitely a mistake.

It was then that your gaze fell on the football paraphernalia that sat on the dresser and the framed jersey that hung above it.

You shot upwards like a bullet, your eyes widening as you glanced around the space.

This wasn’t your room. It was James.

You gasped loudly as you looked down at yourself. Fuck! You were in your underwear.

You frantically looked around the space, searching for anything you could use to cover up. There was a black t-shirt thrown over a chair in the corner.

A sniff told you it was clean and you hastily threw it on, not caring right then that it wasn’t yours.

It didn’t cover much but it’d have to do for now.

It was at that moment the door swung open. You froze, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

James just looked you up and down for a moment, balancing a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Oh good. You’re up.”

“W-what happened last night?” You blurted out in a panic.

“You don’t remember?” The boy queried, moving to place the coffees down on the bedside table.

You shook your head.

“We didn’t… ah? You know?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that! We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair in relief.

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

James just smirked. “Oh no, it’s much more embarrassing than that.”

You looked up at him nervously, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Shit. What did I do?”

James moved to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, muscles in his biceps flexing as he did.

“Well, you stumbled into my room at 2:30 in the morning complaining you were bored.”

You grimaced.

“Then you collapsed in my bed and refused to leave. Which I didn’t mind, by the way. But then you complained that it was too hot and insisted on taking your clothes off. I barely stopped you from getting completely naked. You were on a mission.”

You groaned as he chuckled at the story.

“James, I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”

“What? Mostly naked in our roommates bed?”

He snorted. “Yeah sure. Something like that.”

He gestured towards the coffee that sat on the bedside table and you took a sip, letting the warm drink sooth your aching throat.

“I’m sure you have a hell of a hangover,” he sympathised. “Why don’t you finish your coffee and then go and have a shower while I whip up some breakfast.”

You smiled up at him gently. “James, you don’t have to-“

“Stop apologising,” he cut you off. “I’m happy to. Besides, what are roommates for if not to make you meals?”

—

It was a while before you re-emerged, having showered and now wearing clothes that were your own. You weren’t bothered to dry your hair though. You resigned to let it drip down your back.

You trudged into the living area to see that the rest of the boys had beaten you there.

James was standing in the kitchen cooking what smelt suspiciously (and deliciously) like bacon.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa, half watching a random action movie that was playing on the TV, set to low volume.

You assumed that choice was made for the benefit of Remus who looked a wreck. He was sitting at the dining table, face down with his head resting on his arms.

An evil sense of satisfaction washed over you when you realised that he was nursing a hangover just as bad as your own.

“Well!” You made sure to exclaim loudly, smacking your hands down hard on the table as you took a seat across from Remus.

He flinched and groaned as he sat up, sending you an irritable look.

“Last night was fun.”

Sirius chuckled from his across the room. “For some of us more so than others.”

“Y/n definitely had fun,” James teased as he approached the table, placing a plate of bacon and eggs before you. You slapped him playfully on the arm as he walked away.

You glanced around the room as you began to eat, your brows furrowing when you noticed something odd out of the window.

“Guys, why’s the pot plant out on the balcony?”

“I’m airing it out,” Sirius said absent-mindedly. “Remus threw up in it last night.”

A delighted smirk overtook your features. “Did he now?”

The boy just groaned, thumping his head back down onto the table.

“Here mate,” James stated, placing a plate of food down beside his head. “Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

You had to admit, you did feel better after some food. And James was a bloody good cook.

Then, suddenly an idea flitted through your mind.

“Did anyone keep a copy of the tab from last night?”

“Yeah I’ve got it in my wallet, why?” James confirmed.

“Could I see it please?”

He placed the receipt in front of you on the table and you began to add up the drinks that you remembered yourself and Remus ordering.

“Aha!” You shouted after a moment, jumping up and walking around the table. Remus looked up at you, displeased.

“I beat you! Pay up!”

“What’s this?” Sirius questioned curiously.

“Remus bet me £20 that he could out drink me and I proved him wrong!” You exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t put this on me,” Remus muttered. “It was her idea.”

“It looks like you’ve been a bad influence on our poor Remus,” James teased.

“Yeah, he never usually drinks that much,” Sirius added.

You looked at him suspiciously. “Huh? Really? That was big game you talked last night.”

“Remus is all talk,” Sirius joked. “Deep down he’s really just a little softy.”

“Fuck off, all of you,” the boy groaned.

“Not until I get my £20!”

James barked out a laugh.

“Come on buddy,” he stated in Remus’ direction. “You heard the girl, pay up!”

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

@navs-bhat

@shushbruv

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; summoning her was a choice heavy with consequences. now, you're forced to confront buried loyalties and a steep price for salvation.

★ warnings; body horror, mommy issues

☆ story masterlist

Hours pass after the call, each second heavy with anticipation as you sit on the porch, nails tapping out a nervous rhythm over your knee. Calling her was a decision you didn’t take lightly, and now that she’s coming, you can only wonder how it’ll play out after all this time. You’d left, and now, after everything, you’re the one who reached out first.

Suddenly, the rumble of an engine breaks the quiet, and it makes you straighten immediately. A sleek, black Mustang pulls into the drive, its windows so dark they blend seamlessly with the car's polished frame. It parks beside your own truck and where Sybil is sleeping inside. You stand up, unconsciously straightening up and brushing invisible lint off your clothes.

The moment the engine cuts off, you feel your pulse kick up a notch, the anticipation turning almost to dread.

A tall and imposing figure steps out of the driver’s seat first. It’s König, towering as ever, his dark, broad frame cutting a familiar figure in the low evening light. He steps up to meet you and doesn’t speak right away. His eyes, visible through the thin slit in his mask, soften just a little, a trace of warmth amidst his usually stoic demeanour. Carefully, he thumbs your chin in a familiar and comforting gesture, before he steps back.

“It’s been a while,” he murmurs quietly.

You give him a small nod, secretly grateful for the reassurance he brings. But the spell of reassurance fades as he opens the back door. Out slinks Cath Palug, your Mother’s familiar, a sleek, pitch-black sphynx cat with eyes like twin pale green mirrors, large and unblinking. The cat stretches his lean, wiry body and pads gracefully from the car, casting you an assessing gaze with piercing intelligence. Cath Palug’s presence is a prelude to the inevitable, and you swallow, feeling the familiar pressure of old expectations closing in.

Then your Mother steps out.

She’s a striking figure, even more intimidating than you remember, her poise and presence as commanding as ever. Dark glasses cover her eyes, and a sheer veil drapes elegantly over her face. The rich red of her lipstick is perfectly applied, as are her sharply pointed black nails, all silent declarations of control and power.

The instinct to fall back into your old ways is overpowering, and before you can think twice, you take a single step forward, bowing your head as you take her outstretched hand. You press a respectful kiss to the ring on her finger, a gesture that feels as natural as it is jarring—old habits and all. She says nothing as you straighten, and though her eyes are hidden, you feel her gaze on you, sizing you up. The faintest smile touches her lips, cold and knowing.

“Hello, darling,” she finally says. Your pulse quickens as you nod, bracing yourself for whatever comes next.

Her gaze flickers over you, taking in every detail. “You look dreadful,” she says bluntly, the hint of a frown just barely touching her lips. “Haggard, exhausted. Stand up straight, would you? And explain the situation clearly.”

Her voice is clipped and unwavering, the very tone you’d grown up trying to avoid displeasing. The urge to explain, to smooth over any cracks in your composure, presses against you, and despite the bitterness it brings, you lift your head and straighten your shoulders, forcing calm into your voice as you begin.

“Yes, of course, Mother.”

As you start to recount the events, Cath Palug rubs briefly against her heels, tail flicking as it studies you with the kind of scrutiny that is all too familiar. Meanwhile, König moves ahead, his tall frame cutting through the space with purposeful strides. You can tell by his pace that he’s already in full guard mode, reading every shadow, every open corner for a potential disturbance.

You guide her through the entrance, and with every detail you recount, she says nothing. Her nose wrinkles as she surveys the house, one hand reaching delicately into her pocket to retrieve a crisp, black-lace handkerchief. She presses it to her nose, a distasteful sigh escaping her lips.

“Charming place they have here,” she murmurs, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Your beloved truly have a flair for neglect, don’t they?”

You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “I asked them to stay on the far side of the house for now,” you reply, your voice laced with as much calm as you can manage. “They won’t interfere.”

Her critical gaze sweeps over you, and she nods, looking satisfied, as if you’d passed a test you hadn’t realised was still in place. “Good. That makes this far easier.”

As you reach the door to Leah’s room, she pauses, assessing the energy hanging thickly in the air.

“König,” she says, her voice softer but no less commanding, “stay back. Watch over us but don’t enter. I suspect whatever is inside may corrupt even the strongest minds.”

König bows his head, stepping back with the same silent grace he used upon entering. He positions himself just outside the room, gaze sharpening, vigilant and ready but out of view. As the two of you step in, you can feel her energy tense, the magic in her stirring to meet whatever lay inside.

You clear your throat and try to keep your voice steady. “It’s a parasite,” you explain, feeling the sting of her scrutiny with each word. “And it’s vampiric in nature.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes. The signs are practically screaming.” Cath Palug, hops into the bed and arches its back, sniffing cautiously as if tasting the darkness in the air, before hissing sharply at Leah and jumping back down. Your Mother steps closer to Leah, removing her glasses and examining her with an appraising look that makes your stomach twist.

“Beautiful,” she murmurs, trailing one long, black nail above Leah’s arm. “I can see why she was chosen. A perfect little target for something so vile.”

Her gaze flickers over to you then, sharper, assessing. Her eyes carry that icy, knowing weight. “Your situation couldn’t be more clear, either,” she says, her tone cutting. “Discarded, were you? Cast aside without a second thought, as if the love you poured into them was nothing compared to this... human.” She gestures toward Leah, her lips curled into a thin, humourless smile.

The truth in her words is a punch to the gut. Tears prick at your eyes, but you won’t let them fall—not here, not in front of her, not after all the years you spent learning to hold yourself together under her piercing gaze. You swallow down the sting, focusing on keeping your composure, just as you always had in the past.

Finally, she steps back, putting her dark glasses back on as her expression cools. “I’ll treat her,” she says, a glimmer of satisfaction in her voice, as though she’s won something precious. “But there’s a toll to be paid, of course.” She tilts her head. “You’ll return to the coven. That’s my price. Come back as my heir, and I’ll cleanse her.”

Shame curls tight in your chest, creeping into every part of you, but your thoughts linger on them—on how, despite everything they’ve put you through, you still love them. You remember when they were the ones who held you up, who sheltered you, loved you. For the memory of those days and the loyalty they once showed you, you draw a breath and nod, head bowed.

“I shall serve,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue.

A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, and without another word, she turns back around to face Leah. Her hand hovers over her chest for a moment, then sinks into it as if phasing through mist. You watch, heart pounding, as her fingers disappear beneath Leah’s skin, moving with a surreal ease. She reaches deeper, her arm lost in Leah’s body until, with a sharp tug, she yanks her hand back out.

In her grasp is the parasite, writhing and hideous, a twisted, centipede-like thing. She holds it up, it's dark, slick body wriggling, as she flicks her wrist and tosses it into the air. Cath Palug leaps, claws extended and teeth flashing, catching the creature in one swift, lethal motion and dispatching it efficiently.

It’s gone as quickly as it appeared. And just like that, it’s over.

The tension in the room is palpable as Leah lies motionless on the bed, the air thick with expectation. After a heartbeat, she gasps and jerks awake, pulling you from your anxious vigil. Relief tries to settle in your chest, but it’s quickly swept away as your Mother’s elegant hand presses firmly onto your shoulder, steering you out of the room without a second glance at Leah.

Her work here is done, and by her rules, so is yours.

Stepping into the hallway, you’re met with a tense standoff. König stands, silent and imposing, facing off with Price and Gaz. Their expressions are tight, But when König's gaze falls on you, his stance softens, just slightly, allowing a gentleness to seep into his intense demeanour.

Words start to form on your lips—an explanation, a warning—but they’re forgotten as Price and Gaz push past you without a second glance, their attention fixed solely on Leah. The pang of their disregard twists painfully inside you, deepening as your Mother lets out a disapproving click of her tongue, muttering, “Predictable,” with cold satisfaction.

Yet König steps up to stand by your side. His eyes linger as he wraps one of his arms around your shoulder. As he holds you, his calm strength eases some of the tension from your shoulders. Gently, he guides you away from the room and the people who were once everything to you.

Before reaching the front door, you hesitate, glancing up at him with a thousand concerns flickering in your gaze. Your mind returns to Sybil still back in your truck. 

“Sybil… she’s—,” you whisper, unable to hide the worry in your voice. König’s eyes meet yours through his mask, understanding immediately. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s safe, meine liebe,” he murmurs softly. “Sybil’s waiting for us in the car. I thought you’d want her close.” His thoughtfulness eases your worry. “I know how much she means to you. The ward you left behind was sublime, as always.”

Your face warms at his compliment, and you start to thank him, but he hushes you gently, brushing a calloused finger over your cheek. “Let me take care of you,” he says, his voice soft yet steady, an unwavering promise.

It’s not unfamiliar, this caring side of him, but after everything, it still catches you off guard. He picks up your bag of supplies from beside the door, effortlessly slinging it over his shoulder before acknowledging your Mother, who watches a few paces away. She gives him a curt nod, a subtle approval that König returns with a respectful bow before leading you outside.

At the curb, he helps your Mother into the car first, Cath Palug jumping in right after. Then, he guides you into the back seat. Sybil, just as he promised, is curled up in the front seat. Relief sweeps through you as you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to her nose. She lifts her head to gaze at you with sleepy, trusting eyes, her tail thumping faintly.

For once, your Mother remains silent, her face impassive as you reunite with Sybil. König watches you in the rearview mirror, his gaze holding yours for a brief, grounding moment before he starts the engine.

Just as the car pulls away from the curb, your Mother speaks, her tone as sharp. “Take us to Black Mous.”

The command strikes you like a shock, but you swallow any questions that rise in your throat. König’s eyes flick to her in the mirror, and he responds with his usual composure. “At once. We’ll be there shortly.”

. . .

The car stops smoothly at bar's entrance. König steps out first, opening the door for your Mother with a practised ease, her familiar jumping out behind her. She whispers something to König that you don't catch, and he nods solemnly before rounding the car to help you.

He then goes to your door, offering you a hand which you take with a soft thanks. His grip lingers on yours however. “Sybil and I will be right here.” His voice is soft, steady, even though you can see the slight tension in his jaw. He gently squeezes your hand before finally letting go, settling back against the car with folded arms and a watchful gaze even under the mask. 

With one final look, you follow inside after your Mother.

Inside the bar, the world falls silent. The regular patrons, familiar faces who would normally greet you with nods or smiles, freeze at the sight of your Mother. She strides forward with Cath Palug keeping pace beside her, his slitted eyes glinting dangerously.

“Everyone, out.” Laswell’s voice cuts through the silence, firm and resolute. She doesn’t need to repeat herself. Chairs scrape across the floor as patrons hurriedly exit, their glances lingering on the two of you before quickly darting away.

You follow after your Mother, feeling like a shadow—silent, resigned, and drawn along by her intense presence. She halts before Laswell, Cath Palug twisting around her feet, her movements slow and foreboding.

Laswell’s gaze flicks between the two of you. “To what do I owe this… visit?” she asks cautiously, her usual confidence strained.

Your Mother doesn’t waste a second. “The Le Fay coven withdraws its support. Effective immediately,” she declares, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Laswell’s face blanches, her mouth opening in protest. “Surely there’s something we can discuss—”

Your Mother raises her hand sharply, silencing Laswell mid-sentence. “Enough.” Her tone is cold, final. “I’ve seen the state of things. Your judgement is clouded, and this establishment has drifted too far from what it once was.”

For years, the Le Fay coven had been her most steadfast ally. They’d depended on her just as much as she on them—a mutual pact so deeply woven it felt unbreakable. And yet, here your Mother stands, wielding her power to sever it with a single decision. She speaks with the conviction of one who knows her word is law. 

There’s no room for Laswell to manoeuvre, no path to reverse what’s been done. You watch her expression flicker from anger to desperate resolve, and finally, to a bleak resignation. She glances your way, perhaps seeking some support. But before you can even gather the strength to respond, your Mother snaps her fingers, and the effect is instantaneous. 

Laswell’s pleading expression crumbles, her gaze clearing as though an unseen fog has lifted from her mind. “I… what—” she stammers, blinking rapidly, as if seeing the room and the two of you for the first time.

“Consider this a lesson,” your Mother says with a hint of a sardonic smile. She turns sharply, her familiar trotting behind her in perfect synchronisation. You glance back at Laswell, once your friend and confidant. The desperation painted all over her face is now replaced with stunned silence. 

Without a glance towards you, your Mother’s peaks. “We’re going home.”

Her words settle over you like a sentence to exile from this place you once thought of as your real home. Though she doesn’t say it, you understand—she’s making it clear: you’ll never set foot here again. You do nothing more than nod in silent acceptance. 

The price you’ve paid feels almost unnamable, yet you bear it without a word, quietly resigning yourself to the weight of the path you’ve chosen.

banner credit

[fandoms--fluff]

Hope Mikaelson with a fem!reader that is the last siren alive and have hydrokinesis

splash

Flufftober, October 9th

Female siren reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

A/n: For anyone who may or may not know what hydrokinesis is, as I did, it's the power of water manipulation and controlling it.

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

As you sit on a rock by the falls, you create a spiral of water and make it float in the air. You need some time away from the school.

Everyone found out about you being a siren, thankfully nothing about your hydrokinesis, but it really sucked. Especially since Alaric is quite literally making it his personal mission to make your life a living hell over the past week since it was revealed. Apparently for 'lying' about your specie type even though he never asked you and just assumed you were a witch.

He obviously didn't think there were any sirens left alive after Sybil and Selene. Which he definitely didn't appreciate you bringing that up when he went off at you, yelling about how you were a 'disgrace'.

The only person you told about yourself was Hope, your girlfriend. She'd been away in New Orleans with her family when it happened and she's still there.

At least that's what you thought until you heard the sounds of footsteps, someone's walking up behind you. You turn around, letting the water water back into the river from the air.

You let out a sigh of relief when you see it's Hope. You jump down from the rock and walk into her open arms. She wraps her arms around you tightly as you cling to her. You bask in her warmth. Finally someone who's not staring at you as if you were missing your head.

You breathe in her scent of floral perfume and tropical shampoo. "I missed you" You mumble into her neck. "I missed you too." She squeezes you before pulling away slowly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when it all happened" She holds your hands in her own. Josie filled her in on what happened when she got back to the school this morning.

She was shocked you hadn't phoned or texted her about it. Honestly, she does get why you hadn't, it must've been really overwhelming and you didn't want to bother her. She's been trying to slowly get you to open up to her, it's a working progress.

She had been searching the entire school for you until she realized where you'd obviously be. Your favorite place in Mystic Falls, the falls. You took her there on your guys' date when you told her about your powers and about being a siren.

"It's alright, I didn't I want to bother you. You don't get much time with your family" You muster up a soft smile. "Well, it isn't everyday your girlfriend's secret is exposed. At least half exposed." She tells you.

"Who told you?" You sigh, you really didn't want Hope to feel sorry for you. "Josie did. And I don't want you to think I'm just doing this because I feel sorry for you" She tells you.

You snap your eyes back up from gazing at her hair, "How'd you, what, can you read minds?" You try not to stutter.

"You have that look in your eyes" Hope tells you and brings your right hand up, placing a kiss to it. You tilt your head in a questioning way. "What?" Her eyebrows furrow.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're a robot or not" You tell her with no joke in your voice. "Ahuh, very funny" Hope chuckles before leading you over to the water.

"How are you, really?" She links her arm with yours. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts while watching the water fall.

"I'm not saying I'm okay, but it will be. I know it will be. I just need to wait for everything to die down at the school." You explain softly to her as birds chirp in the background.

"Thank you for being honest with me" She rests her head against your shoulder. "Of course. You know I don't try to lie to you, right?" You ask her in a quiet voice, almost whisper.

"Yes, I do, Babe. I know you don't" She holds onto your arm. "Good. So you'll forgive me this then" A mischief glint appears in your eyes, not that your girlfriend can see.

"What are you talking about- hey!" She exclaims when you pick her up and then run into the river, splashing both of you into the cold water. "Oh, I am so gonna kill you!" She splashes water towards you after you drop her in front of you (safely, don't worry).

"You're gonna have to catch me first" You smirk and dive into the water, swimming deeper into the river. "You're on" She chuckles and swims after you.

She shreds the water out of her way as she tries keeping up with you. Though, she realizes it's basically useless. You slow your pace down and stop, turning around to take pity on your tribrid girlfriend.

"You okay, Baby?" You stifle your chuckle at your panting girlfriend as she slowly crawls her way over to you.

"Okay, no fair, you're basically a mermaid" She pants, wrapping her arms around your neck, and legs around your torso to hold herself up in the water.

"And I just realized how out of shape I am" She lets out a massive puff of breath. "Oh, please, if you're out of shape, then I'm a pirate" you raise an eyebrow, making her laugh.

She then takes in your appearance, your eyes look so beautiful and your wet hair makes you look gorgeous with how it falls down by your face.

Before she knows it, she leans in and passionately kisses you. You wrap your arms around her waist as your kiss your girlfriend back. She whines when you pull away. "Why?" She pouts to you.

"I'm sorry, Baby, it's getting late, we should probably be heading back to the circus ring" you tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She looks down at your guys' clothing, she then pauses. "We're soaking wet" She states. "Yes we are" a smile quirks at your lips.

"We're soaking wet in our clothing." She tells you, her eyes widened. "It's alright, I promise you we can snuggle all night" You promise as you start to walk out of the body of water.

You carry her all the way out of the water to the giant rock you we're resting upon earlier. "I'm gonna hold you to it" She mumbles as she's set down back on the ground.

"I don't doubt it" You wrap an arm around her shoulder.

When you notice Hope shivering, you raise your hand and all the water raises from both your bodies, hair, and clothing. And then swish them back into the river.

"There, a little bit warmer" You kiss her cheek.

[rosquinn]

One of my Dorian Gray hot takes is that there was absolutely nothing in Dorian and Basil's relationship that was healthy. I keep seeing posts like "Basil's love for Dorian was so pure, that's why the portrait was so pretty and the real villain of the story is Wotton because he corrupted it"

As I see it, yes, Wotton did corrupt him, but saying Basil's feelings for Dorian were pure is simply inaccurate to the story. Basil says himself he merely sees Dorian as an artistic ideal [Dorian Gray is to me simply a motive in art. I find him in the curves of certain lines, in the loveliness and subtleties of certain colours. That is all; ch1] and admitted he (a 10 year older man, who had power over him) tried to isolate him from other people and "keep him to himself". Furthermore, Basil also plays a big role in the way Dorian sees himself and his beauty, by painting him everyday and not maintaining any conversation with him, he's indirectly reaffirming what Wotton tells him: people only care about you because you're pretty and young. There is also this scene from the second chapter:

Dorian Gray turned and looked at him. "I believe you would, Basil. You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say.

The painter stared in amazement. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. What had happened? He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeksburning.

"Yes," he continued, "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself."

Hallward turned pale and caught his hand. "Dorian! Dorian!" he cried, "don't talk like that. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have suchanother. You are not jealous of material things, are you?-you who are finer than any of them!"

Dorian is even dealing with a suicidal ideation over what Wotton has told him and the way Basil sees him, he needs emotional validation, he's asking to be told there's more than him than that, and Basil's reaction is just─ no. You're prettier than any other object (indirectly comparing him to one, too).

Basil's view of Dorian influences how he sees people as much as Wotton's. For example, to Dorian Sybil was only what she pretended to be, he loved her performance, her acting, how she did exactly what the public wanted (which can apply to Dorian himself), not the real her. She was only an artistic ideal to him, she meant to him exactly what Dorian meant to Basil. He ignored her desires, pain and everything not related to what he wanted to see, since that's what he's been taught he must appreciate.

I also disagree with the interpretation of the portrait as a "pure" reflection of Basil's love (I would personally rather describe it as an obsession, though) and Dorians soul because it's not. At least not entirely. Part of the point of the book is that everyone only saw the part of Dorian they wanted: the portrait represents Basil's idolized version of him, what he wanted to see and how he refused to see Dorian as a person instead of an artistic ideal. That's why he tried to make him redeem himself, because he hated seeing his version of Dorian shatter into pieces. It was never Dorian entirely, not even after aging terribly because that's the result of Basil and Wotton's influence. The portrait was not his real soul, it was a modified version of it other people played with because nobody cared about the whole thing, and the influence was so big those parts became his whole being. It was just an idolized, molded version at first but turned into his real self with the time and the sins. Dorian's soul (the portrait) was constructed upon what others appreciated about him, so when Wotton motivated him to sin, because Dorian's potential to be terrible was what mattered to him, it became ugly and terrible. There was absolutely nothing pure about that portrait since day 1.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello there ! I'm such a big fan of your work and i wanted to know if you could please write about azriel x plus size reader (cause curvy Queens deserves that giant bat too) ? Maybe something about her having insecurities BC azriel IS surrounded by beautiful slim women and she think that hes's in love with one of them until they're in a fight and he confesse his love to reader. AT first she can't believe it but she goes to cassian who's like "are you seriously that blind? He loved you the moment he looked a you ???" And then you Can add Smut were he workships her, i won't be against it (only if you're confortable with it obviously)

Big thanks for all your work and i looove you !!

Sorry, this took a moment. 🫧🤍

Picture perfect

In a way, you always felt like a misfit. It wasn’t only because of your looks. If you were to be frank you didn’t nitpick at yourself till others started throwing comments here and there. Planting these tiny seeds in your brain. Ones that bloomed it obstructed your vision, altering it in ways that made you cower in the big crowds of people. Made you avoid parties. Made you blind to so many other things.

Your saving grace for a long while had been Azriel. A childhood best friend who had seen you at your worst and stuck through it. So you felt comfortable with him. And even if he wasn’t big on speaking or voicing his opinion. One thing he never missed was completing you. You had always brushed it off. He was a spymaster after all. So, what if he noticed that you colored your hair slightly? Or curled it in another way. Or that you bought a different style of dress. Or got a new perfume. Rhys paid him to be observant, right? It was that until he had sat you down by the river one evening. And blurted out that he liked you while falling over every other word.

“No, you don’t”, you had whispered. “What do you mean, no, I don’t?”, he had pulled back in confusion. “As friends yes but not like… romantically”, you shrugged. Considering that you had fully convinced yourself that he would never fall for you. Not when he could have anyone. “Yn, I know how I feel and so that means that I like you”, Azriel said more firmly as you let out a low laugh, “Why are you doing this?”, you moved to stand up. “Doing what? Yn, if you don’t feel…”, he had moved to stand up but you were already stepping back from him. “I saw you with Sybile by the fountain today, don’t play games with me because I’m an ugly duckling”, you had hissed at him. Leaving him standing there all confused.

And now for the past week, you had done everything to avoid him. Feeling your heart ache more and more now that he wasn’t there to lean on. So your days were spent mopping over the past as you looked out the window till it got pitch black and you forced yourself to crawl into bed.

“Okay, I physically cannot take any more of this”, Cassian had strolled into the house of wind. A box of your favorite pastries in one of his hands. “Then I don’t know why you are here”, you huffed turning away from him. “I’m here because I apparently having the biggest brain out of the two of you”, he chirped, turning your chair so you would face him. “I highly doubt it”, you crossed your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. The general only smirked, he was used to tough bickering with Nesta.

“I will put this very simply”, Cassian said before shoving a donut into his mouth. “Azriel had been an ass. You had been up here for the past week”, he said with crumbs falling from his mouth, making you grimace.

“Can’t you chew and…”, “Shh”, he waved a powdered sugar-covered finger at you. “Now… You know why all of that happened?”, he asked as if you were a toddler. “Yes, Cass, I know. We fought”, you grumbled. But the general only made a dissatisfied boo. “You two are like that because you like each other but your head is more up your ass than his was”, Cassian clicked his fingers.

“That is not true”, you argued, tearing a part of an apple tart. “What’s keeping you from saying yes to him?”, now this hit you harder than you thought, making you stare up at him for a split second. You knew there was no point in lying. This man would sense a lie before it had a chance to leave your mouth.

“I’m not his type”, you muttered under your breath, already feeling your insecurities bubbling. “I would call that bullshit”, Cassian leaned back. “Cass, he dated goddesses. Slim. Tall. Everything sculpted with so much effort”, you grunted, “And then look at me. Ass, tits, I ain’t no size zero”. Cassian tilted his head to the side, “I fail to see a single bad thing in the way you just described yourself”. “Not funny, Cassian”, you grumbled, “I am not making fun of you same goes for Azriel. Do you know that he had been planning to tell you for the last two months? And I caught him vomiting right after dinner because he was way too nervous”, each of the generals words hit you like a blow. Azriel had planned it? Wasn’t a wimp? Wasn’t just a joke. He wanted to… “He’s been an angry little cloud”, Cassian chuckled, “And I think you should take him out of his misery because I know that you feel the same”.

You practically ran through the townhouse. Slipping steps in your way as you rushed to Azriel’s office. Practically falling through the door. Azriel was out of his chair in a hurry. Worry is written all over his face. “Has something happened? Have you been hurt?”, he asked frantically looking you over. You probably didn’t look too put together now that you had run like a maniac to get to him. You shook his head, “I had to see you, had to apologize”, you breathed out, “for the river”. Azriel’s shoulders sagged, “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m not here trying to make you like me”. You let out a painful sigh, “Azriel but I do like you it’s just…”, your voice fell silent for a moment, “I just don’t see why you would like someone like me”, you muttered looking down on yourself.

Azriel frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “Well, don’t you want someone like Sybile, a perfect blond with two symmetrical breasts and no…”, “I will stop you right here”, Azriel cut in, stepping closer to you, cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to cuddle a bag of bones, I would go to the cave up the mountain”, he pointed out, making your eyes shoot out, “Az”, hissed. “I love you first for who you are and you come with extra assets to love. Not that I look at your breast when you wash linens in the river or anything”, Azriel shrugged as you hit his chest playfully, “Pervert”, you muttered. Feeling your lips curve upwards slightly. “I don’t measure my love for you in your weight or looks. And even if I did, it would just mean that I have more love for you”, “When did you turn into such a sweet lovey boy?”, you tilted your head to the side before giving it a little shake. “Just found this picture-perfect girl, she kind of made me fall head over heels for her”, Azriel muttered, before leaning in to kiss you softly.

[angelswing236]

"Let's try this."

Fictober 24 challenge

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Fanfiction

‘Nanny Archer, you said there’s a problem with Master George,’ Thomas said, trying to keep his worry under control. The maid the nanny had sent to find him hadn’t been able to fill in any of the blanks.

‘Oh, Mr Barrow, thank goodness. I didn’t want to send for Lady Mary or Mr Branson. Not without trying everything first. You were the only person I could think of who might be able to help,’ the nanny said, clearly more exasperated than worried.

‘Help with what?’ Thomas scanned the room anxiously seeing no sign of the boy. ‘Where is Master George?’

‘He’s under his bed.’

Thomas did a double take, not quite sure he’d heard her right. ‘Under his bed?’

‘The little scamp won’t come out,’ Nanny Archer said, irritably. ‘I’ve tried everything I can think of, but he simply refuses to budge. He hasn’t even come out for his lunch.’

‘Do you know why he’s under there?’ Thomas asked, pursing his lips.

‘I've no idea.’

‘Right. Let’s try this,’ Thomas said, swiping the apple sitting on the table with Master George’s untouched lunch.

Wandering over to the child’s bed, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He pulled his penknife from his pocket and began to peel the apple.

‘Hello, Master George. It’s Barrow,’ he said, concentrating on peeling the skin in one long, curly strip.

There was silence for a moment and then a small voice replied, ‘Hello, Barrow.’

‘How are things? Nanny says you’ve been under that bed for a while. Are you quite comfy there?’

‘No. It’s made me sneeze a bit.’

‘Dusty, is it? I’ll have to tell Mrs Hughes to tell the maids to give it a good, old clean. A man can’t have a dusty den, can he?’

There was silence again, so Thomas finished peeling the apple, coiling the long strip onto the floor beside him.

‘You’ve missed lunch. You must be hungry. Would you like to share my apple?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas sliced off a piece of apple and held it out towards the bed. A little hand snaked out from underneath it and took the slice, disappearing back into the dark.

Slicing another piece, Thomas popped it into his mouth. ‘Oh, that’s a nice apple, isn’t it? Nice and juicy. I like them like that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you like another slice?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas held out a second slice, pleased to see the little hand flash out and take it again.

‘Now, I’m all for a man having his own private space where he can think about things, Master George, but if you don’t mind me asking, what made you retreat to your den?’

For a moment, the boy said nothing, and Thomas began to wonder if he’d overplayed his hand. Resisting the urge to fill the silence, he cut another piece of apple and held it out.

George took the slice and then said in a quiet voice, ‘Donk said Isis has gone to heaven, so I won’t ever see her again.’

Thomas pressed his lips together. Now they were getting to the heart of it. ‘Yes, that’s right. She has gone to heaven.’

‘Why? Why couldn’t she stay here?’

‘She was very poorly, Master George. I expect she didn’t want to leave you, but sometimes it can’t be helped.’

Silence reigned again and Thomas held out another slice of apple. George took it and munched it before speaking again.

‘Mummy says Daddy is in heaven.’

Thomas paused for a moment in slicing the apple, his heart going out to the boy. ‘Yes, he is.’

‘And Sybbie’s mummy is in heaven, too.’

Sorrow twisted in Thomas’ gut for a moment. ‘Yes, Lady Sybil is there, too.’

‘So, they’re all there together?’

‘Yes. I expect your daddy and your Auntie Sybil are taking Isis for a good, long walk, just the kind she likes.’

‘But if they’re all there together, can’t we go and visit them?’ the child asked, plaintively. ‘Like we go and visit Granny Isobel?’

Thomas thought for a moment, slowly cutting another slice of apple and handing it over.

‘You can’t visit them, Master George. Heaven is a lovely place, but you can only go there once and then when you get there, you can’t come back.’

‘Why not? Aren’t there any cars in heaven?’

‘No, there aren’t.’

‘That’s why I’ve never met my daddy? Because I wouldn’t be able to come back home?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said, gently.

‘I don’t think I’d like not being able to come home.’

‘No.’

‘Is anybody else going to go to heaven, Barrow?’

‘We’ll all go at some point, Master George, but not for a long while, I hope,’ Thomas replied, hoping that would be enough for the boy.

‘Hmm.’

All was quiet as George considered that.

‘May I have another slice of apple, please, Barrow?’

‘Of course, you can. Although, between us, Mrs Patmore has an apple cake downstairs that’s even tastier. That’s if you’re ready to come out of your den.’

‘Apple cake?’

‘It looks delicious.’

George scrambled out from underneath the bed, blinking in the light. ‘Do you think she’ll let me have a slice?’

‘I think if I have a word with her, she will.’

The child grinned as Thomas stood up.

‘Master George and I are going to the kitchen on important business, Nanny,’ Thomas announced, the boy’s hand tucked in his.

[roastedoatmilk]

Let The Light In

Rolan x Fem Tiefling Tav (Sybil)

summary: The five times Rolan thinks his feelings for Sybil are unrequited and the one time Sybil catches him by surprise

word count: 3.4k

tags: angst with a happy ending, unrequited love but not actually, rolan being an ass, cal and lia being amazing as usual, idiots who are obviously in love but don't know it.

A/N got the idea for this fic by @gnomishcunning it’s a bit different from what they posted but it’s the same concept !!! let me know if yall would like to see sybil's pov of this fic ! this is also on ao3

One

The first time Rolan met Sybil was admittedly not one of his better moments, the wizard had been arguing with his siblings when the hero showed up with her rag tag group of companions. The purple haired tiefling had wandered over to the siblings, taking a moment to listen as the one with his brown hair pulled up argues that they need to make it to Baldur’s Gate as soon as possible causing his siblings to groan in disapproval.

“She’s right,” Sybil piped up, “we survived Elturel, surely a wizard as accomplished as yourself can help with the fight here.” her voice soothed Rolan’s ears, he had never heard such a wonderful voice before. 

“Thank you, it’s the right thing to do and you know it!” Lia says, her words aimed at her stubborn brother.

“She’s right Rolan, we're better than this.” Cal agrees.

Rolan rolled his eyes and sighed ��Zurgan fine I’ll stay too lest you end up with your throats slit by a goblin blade.” 

“Thank you Rolan.” Lia sighs before walking away with Cal at her side.

Sybil approaches Rolan again, curious about the stubborn tiefling. 

“We should’ve left by now, damnation.” Rolan grumbles, “Instead we’re sitting here practically begging to be attacked, staying is a mistake.”

A slight frown finds its way onto the cleric’s light blue face, “You’re doing the right thing you know, the tieflings need help.” Sybil says calmly.

“And what about us? There’s every chance we’ve doomed ourselves by helping these people.” Rolan scoffs.

Before Sybil can even respond the grumpy wizard continues, “We will end up fodder for some goblin’s blade all because Lia insists on helping every wounded foal we see, our best chance to make it to Baldur’s Gate is on our own. This place is lost.” 

Sybil’s frown deepens her eye twitching in irritation as he once again mentions the illustrious city, “Why are you in such a rush to get to the city?” the cleric questioned crossing her arms over her chest. 

Rolan straightened himself up, puffing out his chest at the question, “Well you are currently looking at the newest apprentice of Lorroakan,” the red tiefling bragged, a smirk on his face. “Yes that Lorroakan, the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate.”

Sybil’s red eyes twitched even more at the mention of the ginger haired wizard, “You mean Lorroakan who lives in Ramazith tower in the Upper City? I’ve heard some pretty nasty things about that man.” the hero tells the shorter man, her irritation evident. 

The corner of Rolan’s lips twitched, “All rumors I can assure you, Master Lorroakan is the best of the best and I would study under nothing less.” the wizard huffs. 

Sybil nods in response not fully believing him but not wanting to argue. She turns to her companions and begins to chat with them, with her attention no longer on him Rolan takes time to fully take in the hero’s appearance. She stood more than a few inches taller than him. Her dark purple hair was pulled back into a tightly braided bun, strands of hair brushing against her face parting around her horns. Rolan watches as she laughs at something the wizard in purple robes says, her ruby red eyes crinkling up as she smiles, her tail flicks slightly as she laughs. He’s shook out of his daze when he feels an elbow jab into his side, his head whips to the left to see Lia has made her way back over to him, smirking at her brother with a knowing look on her face. Rolan scoffs and looks away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of his embarrassment. 

After a moment Sybil and her group bid the siblings farewell, making their way down to the Druid’s Grove. Rolan watches the cleric as she leaves, Lia and Cal, who had rejoined his siblings, watch their brother with matching looks on their faces. Rolan sighs as she fades from view, thinking that he really messed up whatever chance of companionship that he had with the cleric.

Two

It had been weeks since the last time Rolan had seen or heard from Sybil, he and his siblings tried to make their way through the Shadow Cursed Lands but things went terribly wrong. Which is why Rolan now finds himself sitting at the bar in the Last Light Inn, drowning his sorrows in liquor. The wizard was so lost in his own misery, he failed to realize that a certain tiefling cleric had once again managed to find him. 

“There’s another bottle of Arabellan Dry over there, put it on the bar, then piss off and leave me alone.” The wizard snaps at the two children manning the bar.

“Jahiera said that we should serve drinks but that we shouldn’t serve drunks.” Ide tells the wizard, her eyes catching on the purple haired tiefling who had finally made it over to where Rolan was. 

“Jahiera didn’t save your ragged little tail from the cultists, I did.” Rolan quips, his words slurred. He was too far gone to notice the presence that had appeared behind him. 

“Do you want to talk about your sorrows instead of drowning them?” Sybil asks gently, resting her hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

“I’d rather drown than talk to a sanctimonious prick like you,” Rolan snaps at her before harshly shrugging her hand off his shoulder. Sybil flinches at his tone, completely taken aback. 

“If you’re here to save the day again you’re a little late this time.” The brown haired tiefling retorts, refusing to look at Sybil. 

“What’s wrong Rolan? Is there any way I can help?” Sybil asks carefully, trying her hardest not to upset the man further. 

“Oh sod off,” Rolan snarls, finally turning to face the taller woman “I’m only here because you helped me and my family. I was ready to cut and run back at the grove but you had other ideas.” 

The pure venom in his voice shocks Sybil, she had never heard him sound so angry before, not even back at the grove. 

“Cal and Lia were taken in by your crap,” Rolan snaps at the cleric once more, “You convinced them to play hero, and now they're gone.” 

Sybil gasps, her eyes watering at the thought of the twins being taken by the cult. The purple haired cleric clears her throat before responding to the angry wizard with, “Then it’s my responsibility to bring them back.”

This didn’t seem to be the correct response however all it did was make Rolan even angrier, he rounds on the taller woman before yelling, “They’re my responsibility, you go save the world, or your own arse, or whatever it is you do,” He glares at the taller woman, “I’ll fix this.” 

Rolan turns back to the bar refusing to look at her any longer, he briefly thinks to himself through his drunken haze that he’s definitely messed it up with her this time but he can’t find it in himself to care, too focused on the pain of losing his siblings.

Three

The darkness of the Shadow Cursed Lands is more intense than Rolan remembered, the light from the torch he carries barely cutting through it. He doesn’t let that deter him though, too focused on trying to get to Moonrise so he can rescue Lia and Cal. Faintly Rolan hears whooshing behind him, he ignores it and continues on his way. He makes it all of ten steps before he’s being surrounded by shadow fiends. Rolan desperately tries to fend them off but with only one hand being available to use it wasn’t much help. Just as he was beginning to accept his fate and let the fiends take him he hears shouting in the distance. 

“BY THE GODS ROLAN IS THAT YOU???” Sybil shouts running as fast as her legs can go, her companions following closely behind the purple haired tiefling.

Right as the cleric makes it to where Rolan stands a fight breaks out, Sybil and her companions fight valiantly against the fiends. The sight of it makes a bitter feeling settle in the wizard’s stomach. Before long the fight was won, the finishing blow being landed by Astarion’s arrow soaring straight into the final fiend. Sybil turns frantically towards Rolan already reaching in her pack for a healing potion to give to him, the sight of it only worsens the feeling in the pit of Rolan’s stomach.

“Gods damn it all, I can do nothing right- not a damn thing.” The man shouts, shocking everyone around him. 

“Rolan, please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise.” Sybil says, blood and dirt staining her face. Her eyes wide as she looks at the broken man before her. 

“So what if I was, Cal and Lia could be there,” the wizard snaps, “Instead I found myself cornered by shadow fiends and in need of rescue. From you of all bloody people.”

Sybil steps back a bit, the healing potion still clutched firmly in her hand.

“Rolan, Cal and Lia have already been rescued from Moonrise along with the other tieflings, they’re back at the Last Light waiting for you,” The purple haired cleric tells the man gently. “You were trying to help your family, you’re too hard on yourself.” Sybil holds out the hand that's holding the healing potion to the red tiefling.

“Or not hard enough, I’ve failed Cal and Lia again I should’ve been the one to rescue them not you.” Rolan growls, snatching the potion from Sybil’s hand and downs it. “Right then back to the Last Light, where I can tell my siblings how I’ve once again failed them.” 

Rolan doesn’t wait for anyone to answer before turning around and marching in the direction that they came from. On his way back Rolan thinks to himself that Sybil was only trying to help and that he shouldn’t have snapped at her. He once again has mucked things up with someone who was only trying to help.

Four

When they all make it back to the inn Rolan immediately hears his siblings calling for him and rushes over to them.

“Did you enjoy relaxing here while I battled that wretched darkness?” Rolan questions his siblings furiously, “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, we got captured by murderous lunatics!” Lia snaps back.

“I thought you were dead you ass. Both of you!” Rolan retorts.

“We’re all safe Rolan, that's what matters.” Cal replies, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Sybil makes her way over to the siblings relieved that they made it back safe, “Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.” Sybil tells the twins gently.

"I was just - overwhelmed, it doesn't matter.” Rolan sighs trying his hardest to not concern his siblings about his well being. 

Lia and Cal finally fully take in Rolan’s appearance, his normally well done hair loose and almost completely undone, the bottom of his robes caked in mud, the tremble in his voice as he speaks to them.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve been here.” Lia says, feeling horrible for her brother.

“No - no it's not your fault, I shouldn’t have shouted - I’m sorry.” Rolan replies softly.

Cal turns to Sybil, who had been standing off to the side to give the siblings a moment to themselves. 

“Thank you for rescuing me, and the two idiots.” Cal tells the cleric. 

Sybil awws and pulls both Cal and Lia in for a hug, the cleric has grown quite fond of the twins over the time she has spent around them. After a brief moment she lets the two go and makes her way over to Rolan who is shifting on his feet clearly feeling awkward. 

“Anything to add Rolan?” Sybil asks the wizard who is currently refusing to meet her eyes. 

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise and you helped anyway,” Rolan sighs, “You didn’t deserve that, I’m sorry and thank you.” 

Rolan finally looks up at the cleric and sees that her eyes have gone misty, his eyes widen in alarm but before he can say anything he too is pulled into a hug by the tiefling woman. The second he feels the warmth of her body against his own Rolan sighs wrapping his own arms around the taller woman. After a few moments Sybil releases the wizard, a small smile on her face.

“I’ve grown rather fond of you three and I always help the people I care about.” Sybil utters, her voice so soft Rolan could barely hear her. 

The wizard feels heat rush to his face, his heart practically beating out of its chest. All the poor man can say in response is mutter a small “Thanks.” causing the cleric to giggle. They stand there with each other for another moment before Sybil and her companions once again bid them farewell. That night as he tried to get some sleep all that Rolan could think of was Sybil, the way she helped him and his siblings without question, the way she brushes off praise for her heroic acts with a purple tinge to her cheeks, the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles, the way her voice sounds as she says his name. Staring up at the ceiling all the wizard can bring himself to say is “Shit.”

Five

Life as the apprentice of Lorroakan was not at all what Rolan thought it would be when he arrived in the city over a month ago. If anything it was far worse than anything he could’ve thought of. Not only was Lorroakan a massive prick who used the tiefling as his personal punching bag, but Rolan’s days have also become incredibly dull. He hadn’t heard from Sybil since the last night he saw her at the inn, not that he was expecting to hear from her at all but there was a small part of him who had hoped that one day he’d wake up to find that a letter from her mysteriously appeared on his nightstand. 

Standing behind the front desk at Sorcerous Sundries the wizard sifted through papers, waiting for a customer to approach. Rolan was growing tired of constantly explaining to people that no he couldn’t in fact tell them what The Nightsong is because he himself didn’t know. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the very cleric who had constantly been on his mind approach him. 

“Hells Rolan what happened to you?” Sybil asked, concern heavily lacing her voice.

The wizard jumps at hearing the very voice he’d been dreaming of for a month. He looks up to see Sybil standing in all of her beautiful glory, she seems to have collected some scars over the time they were apart, he takes notice of a particularly nasty one gracing her forearm. 

 “Nothing for you to worry about.” Rolan replies silently pleading for her to drop it. He didn’t want to explain that the wizard he had so arrogantly bragged to her about’s favorite way to pass time is to beat him.He should’ve known better however because by the looks of it Sybil didn't believe him, however before she could even try to question him further he changed the subject. 

“But nevermind that, what can I do for you?” The wizard asks, trying to keep this interaction as professional as possible.

Sybil frowns, sensing that she won’t get anything out of him about the bruises covering his face, “Do many people ask about The Nightsong?” the cleric asks, seemingly moving onto what she actually came here for.

“It’s all I deal with these days, people claiming their trinkets are the real nightsong, looking for the mountain of gold Lorroakan promised.” Rolan sighs, “There's even a pamphlet, take one they’re on the desk.”

A small smile flickers to Sybil’s face, finally getting a glimpse of the Rolan that she knows. “I have information on The Nightsong.” The purple haired cleric tells him. 

“Be very sure before you go to visit Lorroakan, he's got a beastly temper but if you really do know something he’ll want to see you. Head upstairs you can find a way to his tower up there.” The wizard replies, locking his eyes with Sybil’s.

The cleric nods in response before stepping forward, “Thanks Rolan it was wonderful to see you, I did miss you you know.” She whispers as if she didn’t want her companions to hear her. Before Rolan could respond Sybil pulled back and motioned for her group to follow her. Rolan only managed to catch one more glimpse of her as she walked up the stairs. For the rest of the shift all he could think about was what Sybil told him, he refused to believe she meant it in any way other than as friends. He had simply messed things up one too many times for her to ever think about him that way. Or so he thought

Plus one

Rolan’s entire body ached, the adrenaline that coursed his body through battle finally wearing off. Lorroakan had been defeated thanks to Sybil and the actual Nightsong or as she called herself Dame Aylin. Once he found out that the Nightsong was in fact a person and not an artifact Rolan felt not only disgusted but betrayed, he never would’ve worked for Lorroakan if he knew. A million thoughts flew through the red tielfing’s mind, he was so distracted that he once again didn’t notice Sybil approach him. He flinches as he feels hands rest on his shoulders. 

“I just wanted to check up on how you’re doing, you know now that Lorroakan is gone.” Sybil says, she rubs her thumbs back and forth across the shorter man’s shoulders. 

“Honestly I feel fine, all things considered.” Rolan replies looking up at the purple haired cleric who is crouched in front of him.

“That’s great to hear, I’m sure being the new master of the tower is going to take some getting used to. I’m here if you need anything.” The blue tiefling tells him gently, her thumbs still rubbing his shoulders. 

For some reason this seems to be Rolan’s final straw, he stands up forcing Sybil’s hands to leave his shoulders. “I just don’t get you, why are you still so kind to me even though I have been nothing but an arse to you since the day we met?” Rolan asks her, his voice heavy.

This caused Sybil to laugh, a fully body genuine laugh making Rolan’s face scrunch up in confusion. 

“Hells Rolan I really thought I was being obvious this whole time, I’m in love with you have been since the day I saved you in the Shadow Cursed Lands.” Sybil says between giggles. 

Whatever he was expecting her to say it sure as hell wasn’t that,  “Are you quite well? I don’t think you’re aware of what you just said.” Rolan tries to reason with the cleric. 

“Oh for the love of the gods yes Rolan I am aware of what I said and I meant every word, now if it’s okay with you I’d like to kiss you now.”  Sybil groans with a large grin plastering her face.

“Well go on then.” Rolan replies, still in shock. 

Before he could think of anything else he felt soft lips enveloping his own. It shocked him just how soft Sybil’s lips are even after months of adventuring. Rolan sighs as he relaxes into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Sybil’s waist and pulling her closer. Kissing Sybil felt like coming home, a warm tingly feeling flooded the wizard’s entire body. The pair kiss for a few more moments before they are interrupted by several wolf whistles coming from behind them causing the pair to break apart. Sybil groans as she sees the shit eating grins on every single one of her companion’s faces. 

“I’m so sorry about them Rolan, excuse me while I knock some sense into them.” Sybil whispers before giving him one more peck on the lips.

Rolan stands there for a moment watching the taller tiefling make her way over to Astarion and pick him up by the back of his armor causing him to yelp. The wizard laughs as he watches the woman that he loves joke around with her companions. The woman he thought not even 24 hours ago that he had zero chances with. For the first time in over a month his heart was completely full.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi, I'm sorry if you talked about this before. I'm confused about the books consensus wrt making child vampires. Claudia is treated as an abnomination by other vampires and Lestat admits that he deserved to be killed for making a 5-year-old vampire because she never could be happy. And then Marius advices Lestat against it and regrets that he made Armand too young. But later he turns a 12-year-old and not only he's very well-adjusted as a vampire and seems to be happy but also everyone at the court just accept him and doesn't serm to have any problem with him. For me it's a proof that a child vampire can be survive. So what's the truth? Why is 12-year-old ok but not 5-year-old? Does it depend on the situation and under certain circumstances child vampires are allowed? (I know of Marius' excuses that Benji was ill but for me it doesn't change anything?). Thank you.

Hey!!

Oh, you’re absolutely right, it’s hypocrisy and… spite.

There‘s a good post about it here, for example

Marius... turned Benji and Sybille because HE did not want to care about/for Armand at that point (and not really before either, but I digress). I disagree a bit with the interpretation that Louis and Armand (and Sybille and Benji) formed a family unit there (in fact, I highly doubt that interpretation), nonetheless the point of Marius turning Benji and Sybille ostensibly for Armand as to so he did not have to care for his very distraught and hurt fledgling... still stands.

It might also be good to remember that Claudia was destroyed by the (remaining) rules of a satanic cult - yes, Marius had advised Lestat not to turn someone younger than Armand (who was canonically 17), but... that is not the same as the hard-rule of "or else". And the rules that formed Armand and a lot of covens for centuries were lingering, even at the theater. The rules of the "Children of Satan/Darkness" are their own beast, in the books there's only five, the show expanded those:

The court... now the court comes into existence at a point when the vampires have been "thinned out", and those left are more or less just happy to be there - a kind of "live and let live" mind set (by most) if you will. As such Benji's and Sybille's acceptance there was never really weird to me. I mean, there's also Notker's choir... of boys, turned before they would reach puberty to keep their voices. Like.... Benjis probably didn't even raise an eyebrow for older vampires.

Claudia's misfortune was not her age - although that also did not help, obviously - no, the ultimate problem was that she needed someone to help her, and that she came to Paris.

And Paris... well.

There's a reason why Lestat in NOLA said: "Paris? No."

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

hello, i hope everyones having a good wednesday!! my brain, for some unknown reason, believes it to be late fall right now. maybe i'm just craving that chill in the air AHAH

thank you to the fantastic @skyrim-forever and @umbracirrus for tagging me this week!! <33333

tagging the amazing @thequeenofthewinter @oblivions-dawn @orfeoarte @changelingsandothernonsense

@viss-and-pinegar @saltymaplesyrup @archangelsunited @dirty-bosmer @totally-not-deacon !! as always, there's no pressure, but i'd love to see what you're working on. <3333

this is a section from the very rough draft of chapter 39 of Cycle of the Serpent. the trio are becoming intrigued about varnius junius' plea, and have decided to do something about it.

Falk Firebeard, the steward to Jarl Elisif, had been here a great many years. He said so as he talked to the trio, his voice inviting, with the faintest hint of surprise that they were back. At first he must have assumed they were here to petition for the Burning of King Olaf, a sigh heaving down his lungs and his hands rubbing at his face. When Emeros explained the real reason they were here today, he visibly appeared to relax, and made a comment about the man that the Bosmer had mentioned being jumpy at the best of times. "I'll be honest with you, I was planning to let that go," he admitted in a half-hush, apparently unneeded, as the court made it clear the prior day that they did share his opinion. "If it were anything, I'm certain that Sybille's scrying would have picked up on it." The court wizard, seated near the Jarl, gave Wyndrelis a curious look, her eyes practically luminous under her dark hood. He swallowed an uncomfortable lump in his throat. He didn't enjoy the way she scrutinized him, or his friends. Her eyes, a particular shade of citrine which looked to be peering right into him and down to the veins beneath his skin, set the mild panic to rise, sensation a slow crawl up his back of something very off about the woman. "Yes, but what if there's something the scrying hasn't picked up on? I'm no stranger to magic," Wyndrelis managed out, "if there is something going on, wouldn't it be better to investigate?"

The man rubbed his face, hands fidgeting with one another idly. His glances to Elisif, her housecarl, and other figures in the court landed him with approving nods, and Falk again spoke up. "There have been reports of... weird happenings near Wolfskull Cave. Travelers disappearing, odd lights. I suspect wild animals or perhaps bandits." "Travelers disappearing?" Emeros repeated, his eyes wide as the words left him half-breathless. "And you didn't think that this was worth an investigation?" "Again, I thought it might be wild animals and bandits," Falk justified, enunciating the statement. "We all did. They've taken advantage with the war going on, all this uncertainty, no one is truly safe. But I digress, if you really think it's worth looking into, then I will make sure that you three are repaid for your work." A housecarl nearest Falk scoffed into a drink, prompting the court wizard to scowl. "Is there something funny, Erikur?" "No, no, not at all." The man rolled his eyes as he sipped from his goblet, a sort of wine from the smell of it. "I just find it a bit interesting that we're sending three strangers to investigate Haafingar's matters. This should be the work of someone from our own Hold, not these elves who had to get a military pardon when they first arrived here." Phoebe, over at her desk, winced. She looked to Erikur, a sharp, probably dangerous gaze on anyone else that merely served to make her appear like a mouse scolding a wolf. "Besides, our coffers are emptier by the day. What can we even reward three would-be bandit-slayers when they inevitably return without having spilt so much as skeever blood?"

"Erikur," the hulking figure on the other side of the throne snapped, "that's enough." Erikur shrugged, and took another long drink from his goblet. Elisif looked over the trio, her face worn into a dreary resignation. "Then what do you propose? We've already sent a detachment to Dragon Bridge, and Sybille's scrying has shown nothing, yet, I must admit that the idea of leaving this uninvestigated makes me uneasy." Erikur's focus darted around the room. "We should send a handful of our own soldiers. Perhaps discuss it with General Tullius? See if he will offer some help." The room descended into murmurs of agreement, the idea clearly tantalizing to the court. Wyndrelis frowned. He looked to Emeros and Athenath, both equally unsatisfied with this resolution. "I will send word to Captain Aldis, and ask if he's any new recruits he might test by sending them that way. Phoebe, draft a letter to the Captain, and deliver it as soon as possible," Elisif commanded, tension leaving her as she watched the pale-haired girl scratch something down into a new roll of paper. Athenath spluttered, "but what if it's something- I don't know, important?" "Then our soldiers will have it taken care of, instead of recent strangers dirtying their hands." Erikurs cavalier reply left the Altmer again struggling for words, Emeros placing a gentle palm on his shoulder. Wyndrelis shrunk back, his steps taking him to the stairs. A few mutters from the Bosmer, and Athenath was moving to the stairwell, face scrunched in a look of intense frustration with the dismissal. As the trio left the Blue Palace, the sneer never quite fell from Athenath's face, and Wyndrelis swallowed down the urge to ask of it, or to pry into why Erikurs words prodded so harshly into them as to leave their features twisted, until the Altmer ran a hand down their face and features relaxed, like he'd wiped it all away and resigned to the outcome. This wasn't ideal, but when was anything the trio had been through in the past few weeks?

[mushroom-kin]

Shinkane Week 2024:

DAY THREE: Time or Space

Spy x Family AU

Kogami works for MoFA agents, Akane is a secret inspector under Sybil, and Tenzing is a teenager that can read minds.

(more notes under on this AU that is now living in my brain rent free)

(post pp3 vibe)

Kogami is the one who is told by Frederica to adopt a teenager to send to a school (?) something something Sybil's elites. He finds Tenzing, a very bright and perceptive kid who decides to follow Kogami around and ask him to teach her how to avenge her parents. Because he looks very tough, and because she can read minds, but she doesn't tell him that.

Akane does spying and investigating work in the dark for Sybil, even though she knows the truth of about Sybil, she sees it as a lesser of evils for now. Sybil "suggests" her to marry Homura. (ah yes, the funny colon three cat Homura is also here, and also hmm the ao3 fanfics you know I have been reading) To escape this arranged political marriage, Akane is set to find herself a husband to get out of being more of a pawn of Sybil.

Kogami runs into her and somehow Akane propose to him. (Kogami is too much of a wet cat to be able to ask her.)

Tenzing is often told she looks like Akane, that they have same eyes. Even through in this cover story Tenzing is supposed to be Kogami and his ex wife's child, everyone keep thinking Tenzing and Akane are blood related.

Akane cannot cook at all, Kogami is the one who cook for the house.

I need to draw Mika as Yuri coming to visit their apartment, god it would be so funny.

I wrote way too many words in @h4msanta's DM about how everyone fits into this AU. I might just have to keep drawing more art so I can explain it.

Notes on the drawing:

(This was such a blast to draw! I am so happy with this piece. This is a parody of Spy x Family Mission 1 cover.

Most of the hard work was to find things to populate the ground with. On Akane's side we have some exploded bodies, a dead Kasei and a funny brain in vat. Kogami's side is what I was really spend a lot of time thinking. I spent a lot of time looking at blurry images of profiling books and also screen shots of different parts of the show. I have now become friends with imfdb. We have his trusty revolver; dog tags and med bag from 2015 movie; huge backpack from sinner of the system 3; Milkor Mark 14 that goes "thonk" that Kogami has with him in the 2015 movie when he runs into Akane; the practice drone that Kogami beats up in s1, Hera Arms CQR that Kogami uses in the beginning of Sinner of the system 3. I even googled lengths of guns so I can fit everything in.)

[schmem14]

It’s my birthday! Celebrate with me by reading my top favorite fanfic discoveries this past year. (Feel free to flail with me in DM’s!) I feel so lucky to have found so many wonderful talented friends and amazing stories! 

1. flour and flesh by foxglovetonic (nocturn) Hermione x Pansy, wc: 666 rating: M

(Mind the tags) This sapphic horror fic gripped my soul from the moment I read it and it lives rent-free in my head because of its amazing imagery and masterful use of unreliable narrator. I’ll be forever creeped out by carving pumpkins and pie (but in the BEST way, I swear!) This is the #1 reason Halloween is my fav. 

2. Usually by @lumosatnight Percy x Oliver, wc: 1k, rating: E

What’s not to love about banter, chess as foreplay, and stripping down until there’s nothing left but heart-pounding hot AF sex? This pairing is fantastic, and Lani’s writing is on point, as always, and I was incredibly impressed by the real live chess match taking place in the background. Read it, you won’t regret it! 

3. drink up, boys by @emilyrickman gen work featuring Parvati Patil, wc: 1.5k, rating: M

(Mind the tags) I URGE you give this gripping revenge story a chance! Between Parvati’s confidence and the absolute heartbreaking and empowering ode to sisterly love, this story gave me goosebumps. Emily is such a great writer, and I can’t stress enough how well the feels come through on this one. Also, give the song What It Means To Be a Girl by EMELINE a listen as you read, it will elevate the whole experience! 

4. One Woman’s Trash by @nanneramma Lavender x Hermione wc: 2k, rating: T

My friend Nan can do it all, and I don’t care that coffee shop AU has been done a thousand and one times before, THIS is the one to read! Lavender is to die for in this, and the fluff is pure, gourmet sweetness. It will have you kicking your feet and squealing by the end. 

5. Head Over Heels by @vdoshu Narcissa x Mrs. Zabini, wc: 575, Rating: M

This itty bitty fic is singlehandedly feeding my Narcissa Mommy delusion. I want her to step on me SO BAD! Ugh. Doshu packs a punch with every story, and the punchline of this one is sure to have you gasping like a beached fish. Please come scream at me about it if and when you know what I mean. 

6. Welcome, Peasants by @fluxweeed Draco x Ron x Harry, wc: 15k, Rating: E

It was nearly impossible for me to pick just ONE of my favorite fics from Dronarry fest this year, but I narrowed it down to two. Strap in for an hour and immerse yourself because the payoff is WORTH IT!  This one blends the juicy polyjuice trope with a healthy dollop of mistaken identity and a pinch of jealousy. Better yet is the twisty reveal and the absolutely smut-tastic finale that follows.

7. For I Have Found Salvation by @lumosatnight Severus x Harry, wc: 7k, Rating: E

Yes Lani, I couldn’t resist another! I feel like I have to preface this by saying I’m not usually a Snarry fan, but this filthy Priest AU fic is EVERYTHING. The dynamic of guilt and forbidden church sex (while church is IN SESSION) is so fucking delectable. I’m going to just say it and embarrass myself: Insta-Wank Bank. Yep. 

8. Nightswimming by @sweet-s0rr0w Draco x Ron (x Harry), wc: 5k, Rating: M

…Which brings me to my SECOND Dronarry fest pick from this year, and I love it so much because it’s all banter and hypotheticals. Draco and Harry are a couple, but Draco and Ron share a car ride where it comes out that maybe they’ve been considering a three-way with Ron. They don’t even fuck, but the tension of them just talking about it is too hot to handle. Bonus: There’s art at the end! 

9. Mistletoe Mojito by @amethystheart2421 Sybill x Severus, wc: 3k, Rating: E

This fic knocked me flat on my ass. This lust potion fueled one-night stand fic had me laughing and crying (from hilarity and absurdity and sadness) all at once. Such delightful writing, and the perfect example of crack taken seriously. 

10. All That Is Beautiful, Burns In The Making by @sailtomarina Narcissa x Bill, wc: 8k, Rating: E

Narcissa is hot. Bill is hot. We all know this from canon, but imagine they get together and how much hotter they are as a couple! This fic contains such delights as werewolf Bill, seduction, forbidden love, infidelity, knotting, endless refractory periods, voyeurism, rough sex, and mating. It’s not quite A/B/O but it has a lot of the elements that make it such a juicy AU.

11. A Perfect Answer by @p1013 Draco x Harry wc: 9k, Rating: E

Downton Abbey AU. Harry is Draco’s valet and the love is very much forbidden. Contains: pining, jealousy, decorum, emerald cufflinks that Draco favours, and BATHS. Something about it reminds me of Jane Eyre, though I know that’s a different time period and there’s no crazy wife in the attic. I loved this fic so much because it was a well-written AU and it brought a breath of fresh air to an old favorite otp. The angst is divine, and the ending is such a lovely payoff. Enjoy! 

[nobodiesunshine]

i have something to admit but i hate jily😭😭

I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS THEY JUST FREAK ME OUT SO BAD!!

this is NOT recent, when watching hp when i was younger I just didn't like the snippets we got of them, literally don't know why they've just always disgusted me 😭

even during my drarry hyperfixation in 2020 if jily mentions popped up i got so uncomfortable.

idk man they just are not my pookies

and it's not even because they're a straight ship, I LOVE BARTYLILY!! pandora / xenophilius (is that how i spell it?), peter/sybil, etc are all ships i enjoy so it's not because they're straight.

it is also NOT BECAUSE I THINK LILY GETS IN THE WAY OF JEGULUS 😭😭 i know this because i ship moonwater too, along with bartylus and sunstarrosekiller (or is it starkillersunrose?? help whats james x barty x evan x regulus???)

YES jegulus is my main ship

YES i hate jily

NO those 2 things are NOT connected!

and it's so weird because i actually do like jegulily??? and i LOVE james and lily's characters i think they're so complex and i love them both sm separately but i HATE them together??

part of me thinks it may be because i mostly hc lily as a lesbian but also like i said i really love bartylily so clearly not??

like i am a multi shipper to my CORE it genuinely makes me so confused

and the thing is i don't WANT to be a hater, i've tried exposure therapy and it actually freaked me out so bad i genuinely had a nightmare i WISH I was joking 😭😭 and their ship name is so cute like FLOWERPOT?? ARE YOU KIDDING?? thats ADORABLE how could i want to hate that??

i guess it also doesn't help the jily community is so.... toxic but like i've said i've always disliked jily so i dunno

how do i get over this obscure phobia???😭😭