#emerald basilisk

[pangeen]

" Jurassic World 🦖" // © Michele Bavassano

[wildhearteater]

while I recognize that canon will give isla her mothers big cat as a companion she most definitely should get a snake instead

[heylorrain]

W.C: 5,490 - 🔞 MDNI 🔞 - Read it on Ao3 or expand and enjoy! Scenes

"First times are always awkward, cute and sweet... but mainly awkward; and this story is no exception."

The taste of her lips was pure elixir. 

He kissed her with what could only be described as an adorable desperation. As for her, she couldn’t help breathing out a quiet moan that rolled from her lips. His hands cupped her cheeks with tenderness, thumb resting gently against her bottom lip, guiding him with precision to where he needed to be. 

At first, she didn’t even have a chance to close her eyes. She looked up close at his blonde beautiful eyelashes, shielding the two bright stars that were his eyes. 

Her hands hovered in the air beside her, caught in a moment of surprise as the kiss took her completely off guard. Her first kiss. Their first kiss. Finally, it had happened. People often said, "The longer the wait, the sweeter the kiss." But who on earth came up with that? It was completely false. Neither of them could endure the wait any longer. In the few months they had known each other, this moment felt so undeniably right, like it had been written in the universe.

Ominis broke the kiss, leaning back just a bit, allowing the cool night air to sweep between them. Lorra found herself trapped between the stone bridge and his warm, enveloping presence. “Oh, what a delightful way to be imprisoned" she thought.

He opened his eyes lazily, revealing two blue sapphires that sparkled brilliantly under the gentle moonlight. Lorrain finally placed her hands on his forearms, gripping them with an urgency that spoke of longing as she pulled him toward her once more, her emerald eyes fluttering shut with anticipation. 

Her hands traveled slowly from his forearms to his neck, sending a shiver through him as her warm fingers caressed his skin. The sensation was both ticklish and electrifying. Her fingers continued their journey up to his jawline, tracing his features, before finally reaching their ultimate destination—his hair. She felt the silken strands slip through her fingers. In response, his free hand ventured to the smooth curve of her waist, fingertips delighted by the textured fabric she’d added to her uniform; while his other hand held on for dear life to his wand, making him feel the heat coursing through her body.

When Ominis sought entrance with his tongue on her lips, she welcomed it eagerly. At first, they had no idea what they were doing, and it didn't even feel particularly pleasant. They simply assumed this was how people kissed... right?

WRONG.

Useless Sebastian Sallow and Anne had attempted to teach them the basics of the art of kissing through some awful drawings and awkward hand demonstrations. They had sought advice from them separately, which was indeed, the worst idea ever. 

But within a couple of seconds, as their tongues began to dance clumsily with each other, a newfound feeling took over. The warm sensation enveloping their mouths spread like a slow, toxic venom, coursing through their bodies and awakening, something else .

Lorrain tugged urgently at Ominis's vest, pulling him closer until their bodies pressed fully against each other. He felt her form pinned against the bridge, prompting him to instinctively adjust his stance, unwittingly sliding one leg between hers. She flinched at the sudden movement, releasing everything in an instant. Her eyes flew open as she let out a sharp, breathless gasp. 

Ominis immediately took three steps back, his body going rigid as a statue, his wand held firmly before him. His eyes were wide with alarm, his breath caught in his throat. Meanwhile, Lorrain stood opposite him, her arms and legs rigid and crossed, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion as she studied his reaction. 

An awkward silence followed. 

“F-forgive m-me, I–”

“Shut up.” Lorrain cut him rapidly. Fucking shit balls of Salazar fucking Slytherin with a fucking basilisk on his fucking ass Lorrain shitshitshit. She kicked herself mentally. 

Panic. Pure panic. That 's what it was.

A single raindrop landed gently on Lorra’s forehead, prompting her to gaze upward at the night sky. Besides the Moon, it was a vast expanse of darkness, shrouded entirely by thick clouds. 

Moments later, another drop splashed onto Ominis’ hand, its cool touch a subtle reminder that they ought to seek shelter before the heavens truly opened up. 

Around them, the bustling Hogsmeade crowd began to scatter, fleeing the sudden rain that fell from the sky with intensity. Fortunately, the little town was dotted with numerous cozy nooks and inviting doorways where one could escape the rain. 

Yet neither of them moved.

The rain began to cascade relentlessly.

It was just the two of them, standing alone without a roof to shield them from the storm. 

A gentle warmth spread across Ominis’ vest, a familiar tug guiding him instinctively toward Lorrain. Her magic wove an invisible thread that drew him to stand before her once more.

The rhythmic pattern of raindrops striking the river below formed a cold symphony, a haunting melody that Lorrain found herself enveloped in. She edged closer to Ominis, feeling the warmth of his breath as it gently caressed her nose and cheeks, a stark contrast to the cool air. He played along, and together they were adjusting their senses to the intoxicating blend of each other’s scent.

The kiss they had shared earlier had been romantic, a tender moment that lingered in their minds, but it had also opened a Pandora's box of emotions and desires—a personal and heavenly Pandora's box just for them. 

The world around them seemed to fade away.

He leaned closer to her, attempting to close the gap between them, but she pulled back, teasing him. “Desperate, are we?”

A low chuckle left his chest as he ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, just a bit” 

“And why is that?” Lorrain whispered, her lips grazing his with a ghostly touch.

“Because I feel like you’d disappear any moment now. That this might be–” He led out a shaky breath before continuing “- a dream.”

Lorrain guided his wand gently, placing it against her throat where the rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat was the strongest. She then took his other hand, pressing it to her lips. “We are real, Oms”. She assured him.

Ominis felt the steady thrum of her heartbeat mirroring his own. Then he entrusted her with his wand, letting her hold it, as he framed her face with both hands with tender devotion. He kissed her once more, this time with heightened intention and raw emotion. His mouth moved against hers with a fervent openness, eyes closed tight as if to savor every sensation. Lorrain responded with eagerness, her own lips parting willingly as she felt him press against her, each movement deliberate and filled with need.

At this point, she could obviously feel his excitement, a fervent need for her that she had never imagined in him—or within herself. There had always existed a boundary she had respected: a line between playful teasing and taking a more daring-intimate step. Yet now, her mind was an empty canvas; time seemed to stand still, and the rhythmic rain on stones and tin roofs faded into silence.

She mirrored the dance of his tongue, feeling like an explorer venturing into the unknown territory of her lover’s mouth. This sensation was swiftly eclipsed when Ominis shifted, sliding his leg between hers once more, pressing her with the full weight of his body. She clutched his wand with a firm grip, while her other hand tugged him closer, intensifying the awareness of the places where he longed for her. 

It was inevitable: Lorra’s hand traveled down the fabric of Ominis’ pants. Perhaps it was a manifestation of her curiosity, or possibly the influence of stories she'd heard from her friends, and forbidden books she'd read, which spoke of men having two heads—metaphorically speaking—one for thinking and another that acted on carnal impulses. Were men truly such enigmatic creatures? “Two heads?” she thought. “And how am I supposed to determine when the other head takes the reins of the situation—”

“L-Lorrain, w-what are you doing?” Ominis stammered through quickened breaths.

Lorra opened her eyes and realized he had Ominis’ dick on her hand. She froze, “Oh… my… fucking—” and slowly began to retract her hand from his troussers. “ — Shit. I went too far. I ruined it. I better just jump off this bridge right now–” 

She gazed at his flushed, rain-dampened face, and even in the dim light of night, she could see the vivid redness spreading across his cheeks, reaching all the way to his ears. And she knew damn well he could feel her embarrassment too. Ominis appeared taken aback by her actions, surprise etched into his features. His unseeing eyes brimmed with questions, questions to which Lorrain, quite evidently, had no answers to.

Finally, He gently took the wand from her hand and clasped her fingers with his, leading her uphill with a determined stride. They passed the towering silhouette of the windmill, its blades creaking in the rain, and continued past the facade of the Dogweed and Deathcap store, its windows fogged with condensation. Their path went upwards, taking them over a series of old steps. With a smooth flick of his wand, he unlocked an old door without uttering a single word of the Alohomora spell.

"Ominis wh–" Lorrain began, but her words were cut off as he gently tugged her into the room, their drenched cloaks and clothes leaving a trail of water across the wooden floor.

The contrast from the cold outside was comforting. A fireplace stood invitingly before them. Snapping her fingers, the logs burst into flames, casting a warm, flickering glow. She took in the small room: the chimney rising above it, a modest bed, and a tiny kitchen nook equipped with a few pantries and a simple stove.

When she turned around, Ominis was standing there, gently holding out his hand to offer assistance in removing her cloak. She accepted, feeling a bit confused about the unfolding situation. He then removed his own, draping it over a nearby chair. Then their shoes. Leaning against the door, Ominis closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts, twisting his wand with both hands.

"If we proceed, it’ll change everything," Ominis said in a serious, low voice.

She blinked a few times, realizing what he meant. 

"I won't do anything you don't want to," he continued firmly. "You're under no obligation to proceed, and I assure you, I won't treat you any differently at Hogwarts if you choose to proceed or not."

I stood frozen, my mind a whirlwind of chaos after his words pierced through my defenses.

Every fiber of my being screamed, urging me to surrender to him completely. Yet a single, tormenting thought held me back: What if he saw me after this as a tramp? A prostitute? A casual encounter for just one night?

I shuddered at the idea of him perceiving me as any of those things.

I knew in the depths of my soul he'd never harbor such cruel judgments. But what if, against all odds, he changed his mind or was disappointed in my inexperience?

The fear of failure clawed at me, knowing this uncharted territory left me vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable, and I hated that feeling. I longed to astonish him, yet the weight of inexperience began to cloud my confidence.

I waited patiently for her response, my heart pounding like a war drum in my ears. Whatever she decided, I’d honor it, yet I was consumed by the hope for her “yes.”

If she allowed it, I’d worship her relentlessly, from head to toe, every inch of her, my sacred treasure. 

Fuck, if she’d let me I’d drop to my knees and kiss the very ground she stands on, but that’ll probably scare her… I think.

My hands ached with the desire to never let go of her skin, craving every touch, every caress.

Her rather bold move earlier was unmistakable, yet I never imagined she'd truly desire me in that way. If only she knew the countless nights she haunted my thoughts, as I lay consumed by longing, tormented by the fantasy of her—

She must know by now my obvious inexperience, but there’s nothing I can do to change that, not in this moment at least. If she agrees to this, I don’t think I’d ever be able to recover. Not now, not ever. I yearn to surrender to her completely, body and soul, praying she might join me.

She advanced towards him, her feet felt heavy yet as if she was walking on clouds. Her heart pounded in her chest it almost hurt. Ominis stood rooted by the door, the verdict had been decided. He could feel it. 

Lorrain remained silent. 

Surely, that silence spoke volumes, right? 

In Ominis' mind, it was crystal clear: she wasn't ready yet.

He turned from the door, intending to retreat towards the fire, but was abruptly seized by the fierce collision of Lorrain's lips against his. It was a desperate, needy, clumsy, yet flawlessly imperfect kiss. The answer he craved.

Her arms encircled him, her warmth enveloping him as if he was in flames. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, their kiss growing more intense, his free hand dared to touch under her shirt, going up a little and dragging down his fingernails against her corset. 

Without breaking their kiss, they stumbled around the room, colliding with the chair, the kitchen, the nightstand, and brushing against the walls. They avoided the one place they both secretly longed for yet were too scared to approach: the bed. Finally, Lorrain decided to lead him there. She gently guided him, her heart pounding with anticipation, and sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of the soft, inviting sheets beneath her.

"Oms..." she murmured softly, not wanting to face this unfamiliar ritual alone.

Ominis kneeled before her, gently pressed a soft kiss onto the back of her hand before settling his wand on the little nightstand. 

“Yess-ss?” He dragged his tongue. 

Lorra remained silent, her gaze fixed on him, eyes wide and searching.

His hands found their way to her ankles, fingers lightly resting upon them. He could feel the subtle quivers beneath his touch. Her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts, too tangled for words, too intricate to articulate, but silently pleading for him to understand her unspoken wishes.

“Guide me,” Ominis whispered, his voice gentle. 

Lorrain smiled softly, her eyes sparkling with love.

She gently placed her hands over Ominis', guiding them upwards with a delicate slowness that seemed to stretch the moment.

As his fingers traced the damp fabric of her socks, he felt a slight pause in her movement just above her knee, a subtle hesitation that spoke volumes. Responding to this silent communication, Ominis tenderly removed her socks, setting them aside. Her feet, cool as ice, sent a shiver through his fingertips. He took his time, pressing soft kisses upon them, his eyes closed as he caressed each toe with meticulous devotion. Lorrain pressed her hand to her mouth, her expression a mix of surprise and wonder at the careful attention Ominis lavished on every inch of her skin. His hands traveled once more to the tender skin just above her knees. She halted him with her own hands, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"I know," he whispered softly, a promise in his voice. "I’m not going to—" Yet she guided his hands further, inch by inch, until they brushed against the delicate fabric of her undergarments.

She exhaled profoundly when he removed them carefully.

“Stand, please” She muttered. 

Ominis obeyed instantly, rising to his feet with grace. She stood too, her hands gliding up along his sides, fingers lightly grazing his skin before gripping the fabric of his shirt. With a fluid motion, she pulled it off him, revealing his pale chest, which rose and fell rapidly with each agitated breath, his skin a canvas speckled with constellations. She looked at him, his face alight with a flicker of vulnerability, a blush. This time, it was his turn to receive the attention. She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing against his collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses as she traced the lines of his shoulders with delicate fingers. He began to try and unbutton her shirt, a tentative move interrupted by Lorra’s playful slap on his hands.

“Wait your turn Gaunt” she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.  

Ominis let out a loud nervous laugh. “It’ss-s not about turnss-sss”

“Who says it isn’t?” she replied, her fingers now tracing the defined V line on his lower belly.

“Well I—ah��”

But the words caught in his throat as he was momentarily lost in her touch.

Little did Lorra know, the teasing was not going to work this time. Ominis leaned in again, searching for her lips, pulling her closer by the neck with a gentle yet firm grip while his other hand resumed its attempt at unbuttoning her shirt.

But he fumbled, his fingers slipping, unable to complete the task.

She chuckled softly at his attempt, her laughter a melodic sound that filled the space between them. "Here, I’ll do it," she said, her fingers working the buttons. "And you… and you…" Her words trailed off, her mind racing ahead of her speech. What else was he going to take off? His socks? No, no. "Gosh, Morgana, you’re so stupid," she thought, her mind a whirl of anticipation and embarrassment. "Could you take– off— your—"

"Take off my pants?" Ominis smirked, his confidence returning as he savored her nervousness, clearly enjoying the shift in their playful banter.

She nodded. 

“Did you just nod?” Ominis laughed, quickly joined by Lorrain’s laughter.

“Yes! I nodded. And yes, please take your pants off, Gaunt”

Ominis didn't hesitate and acted decisively. In one quick motion, both his pants and trousers dropped, catching Lorrain off guard.

“Wait! No, no, pull them up! Up! Up!” she exclaimed, closing her eyes tightly. “Shit! Was that–”

“My dick? Morgana, you were holding it just ten minutes ago. What did you think it was? A sugar feather?” Ominis retorted with sarcasm as he swiftly pulled up his trousers and folded his arms across his chest. 

“I mean I know it was your dick, but gosh a warning next time perhaps?” 

“What do you want me to say? Mmm?” He mocked playfully “Here comes thy dick, beware?”

They both stared at each other as silence enveloped the room for a few seconds. Then, as if a dam had burst, they erupted into uncontrollable laughter,  echoing around them, providing a much-needed tension release, soothing their frazzled nerves. The worst part was already over for them, and it had been taking those first tentative steps.

Finding solace at last, they settled onto the edge of the bed, the soft fabric of the sheets whispering beneath them. They sat facing one another, their gazes softening, drawing closer with each passing heartbeat, the space between them shrinking.

“Minimum inflama” Lorrain whispered. 

The fire obediently dimmed, its flames retreating to a soft glow that cast a tender, flickering light upon their bodies, before they resumed their kiss. As the kiss deepened, Ominis firmly grasped Lorrain’s hips, and like a silent agreement, she settled onto his lap. Her knees encased his thighs, creating an intimate enclosure, and then she felt it—a firm presence pressing insistently against her entrance under her skirt. She inhaled deeply, a new desire unfurling within her.

Instinctively, she rocked her hips, a tentative back-and-forth motion. Ominis emitted a low, rough grunt of pleasure at the unexpected sensation. But Lorra paused, her eyes searching his face with concern. 

“Did it hurt?” she asked, her voice a soft murmur of care.

“Sss-sssNo…” he managed to mumble, his voice a husky whisper. 

He opened his eyes, gazing at her with an intensity that seemed to see through to her very soul.

Moving slowly, she caressed his cheeks with her thumb, watching as the tension in his face eased slightly. Then she moved again, another gentle rocking motion. She stopped, captivated by how her movements could evoke such a profound response in Ominis. She shifted once more, and this time, Ominis’ hands on her hips guided her, continuing the motion. Letting him set the tempo as he desired, she caressed his back, her fingertips tracing the scars that marked his skin. 

The friction between them was delicious, but quickly began to intensify. Ominis allowed his body to drop on her, landing his lips at the junction between Lorra's neck and shoulder. He gently nipped the supple skin with his canines, savoring her sweet taste.

Lorra let out a moan in reflex, only making his desire grow. 

“Buttonss-ss” The blonde whispered against her skin. Her nimble fingers didn't hesitate, quickly unfastening the remaining buttons of her shirt, letting it slip off her shoulders and flutter to the floor behind her.

But her corset still remained an obstacle for Ominis. A lopsided smirk played on his lips as he remembered, she yet had another layer, concealing her treasures underneath.

“Ss-sstand” he commanded in a low growl. The assertiveness of his tone sent shivers down Lorra's neck; she had never heard Ominis speak to her in such a way before. She found herself being drawn to him even more, eager to follow his every command, she complied happily. “Turn”.

As the zipper of her skirt slid down, a wave of goosebumps spread across her skin, which Ominis noticed and grinned. The rustling of the fabric cascading to the floor made her hold her breath. Ominis rose and wrapped his arms around her from behind, comforting her.

"Are you okay?" His breath tickled her earlobe as he whispered.

She nodded, swallowing hard. "Speak, Lorra," he encouraged softly.

"I—I am," she stammered nervously.

Sensing her acceptance, he began to methodically unlace her corset. Each movement of his fingers was deliberate and careful, punctuated by warm kisses trailing down her neck and across her shoulders. Her hands rested at her sides, submerging herself in his adoration.

With the corset loosened, his hands ventured forward to cup her breasts with a gentle firmness that drew a gasp from her. She shrugged off the corset and let it drop, giving him consent to explore as he pleased. Every nerve ending felt electrified – would he be rough? Gentle? Did he find her body desirable? Her curves? Her thick thighs? What if he—

"Lorrain—" His voice interrupted her racing thoughts when he murmured against her ear, "-You're so perfect."

These three words dissolved away all tension in her body. " P-Perfect? Did he just—?"

As he gently caressed her supple breasts, his fingers traced delicate patterns around the areolas, gradually drawing circles that closed in on her increasingly erect nipples. She couldn't contain the sultry moan that escaped her lips, but quickly covered her mouth with her hand, flushing with embarrassment.

“ I want to hear you ” Ominis muttered inside her mind. “ Your sounds are beautiful, Lorra”.

Slowly, she lowered her hand and placed both of them on his wrists, focusing on the sensation as he continued to touch and squeeze her. He rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, applying just enough pressure to elicit a mixture of pleasure and pain. Her moans began tentatively, barely audible at first, but soon swelled in confidence as she surrendered herself to him.

Ominis pulled her close, their bodies pressing together as they sat down on the bed. She sat on top of him while tender kisses rained upon her back and neck, following the contours of her shoulder blades. Each loving gesture encouraged her legs to part slightly wider, welcoming him into the depths of her vulnerability.

Down below, her body's response was unmistakable - a musky moist heat radiating from between her legs. He ventured further to her core, his fingers delicately parting the soft folds until they found the slippery entrance. There, he paused to explore every intricate detail of her arousal - deliberately sliding one finger inside her. In response to his touch, she arched further into him - a silent plea for him to continue. As he did so, each movement that brought him deeper within her was met with a soft gasp that escaped her lips. 

She supported herself on his thighs, rocking her hips back and forth as he continued to tease her hardened nipple with one hand while his other hand plumped her. Ominis leaned closer, his cheek now pressing against hers, their bodies fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. He deliberately slid his finger along her quivering abdomen and up to his mouth. Lorrain watched in slow motion, her thoughts racing: "No... no, no. He's not going to put it in his mouth— Aaand he just did."

"You taste so sweet, baby," he whispered seductively into her ear.

"Ominis," Lorrain interjected, trying to regain some control over the situation. After he'd hummed in response, she continued, "Don't be nasty."

"N-nasty?" he asked with genuine confusion.

"You know... tasting my—my..."

"Your—? Tasting you?" He said tenderly. "There's nothing wrong with how you taste. Woman, I love you. Do you understand what that means?" He pressed his chest against her back as he wrapped his arms around her lovingly. "It means all of me treasures all of you. ALL of you."

She gently disentangled herself from him and turned to face him. His face was flushed, and the obvious bulge in his trousers spoke volumes about the intensity of his desire for her. She allowed her gaze to linger on it for a moment or two before looking into his eyes again. 

He extended a hand toward her, his fingers gently brushing against her skin; she took it and squeezed it tenderly. But he didn't tug her towards him, Ominis simply remained there, allowing her to make the decision to step closer.

When she closed the distance between them, her breasts pressed lightly against his face as he glanced upward. His eyes danced with amusement, the corners of his mouth turning up in a playful grin. Lorrain couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, watching him delight in the sensation of being framed between her boobs.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pushed him towards the bed. His expression grew more serious as his back made contact with the mattress, anticipation shining in both of their eyes. She topped him, heat radiating from their bodies as they found themselves in an intimate embrace. Their lips met in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate, mouths moving together, tongues teasing and exploring one another as their breaths mingled. 

Lorrain shifted her weight to the side and let her hand trace down his trembling stomach, fingers skimming beneath his V line. Her touch continued its tantalizing journey under the waistband of his trousers until it encountered his hardened length. A moan escaped from both of them as she wrapped her fingers around his throbbing arousal, waiting patiently for her. She began to tug his trousers down, but was met with a mocking warning from Ominis.

“Beware, here comes thy dick–”

“Ominis shut up!” She cut him with a nervous laugh. 

With his trousers now removed and discarded to the side, Ominis' erect dick stood proudly before Lorrain's wandering gaze. Her eyes glistened with a mixture of curiosity and desire.  

"Lorrain, don't just stare at it," Ominis pleaded shyly, attempting to cover himself with his hands.

He thought she might tease him further or perhaps avoid confronting the situation altogether. However, he was surprised when feeling the enveloping warmth of her hand on his length followed by a few weak and clumsy strokes. Ominis gently placed his hand over hers and began guiding her movements, demonstrating the pace he preferred. Once the rhythm was established, he released her hand and allowed her to continue on her own accord. He felt the slick precum oozing from his tip, feeling her using her free fingers to massage it around the sensitive head. This newfound sensation caused Ominis' back to arch involuntarily, and he let out a moan as he desperately tried to grasp any part of her – her arm, her wrist, her leg – all while trying not to disrupt the tantalizing tempo she had established.

“You seem to be enjoying this, Oms,” she purred, leaning in so close that her warm breath tickled his earlobe. He tentatively reached to touch her hand, but she pulled back. “Don’t stop me, Gaunt,” she teased. His eyes, wide and pleading, only made her chuckle. “I want to watch you enjoy this.” Her hand resumed its firm grip on his erect shaft, he groaned, his hips bucking slightly as her fingers rhythmically tightened and loosened around him. She couldn't help but be fascinated by how much his body responded to her touch.

With a sudden growl, he grabbed her wrist, flipping them over so he was on top. He pinned her wrists down, his forearms pressing them between her head and into the mattress. She instinctively parted her legs, creating a welcoming space for his weight. As their bodies pressed together, his forehead rested on hers, eyes closed, their shallow breaths mingled between them. Her long hair was laced with his fingers. Their noses touched while they remained like that for a few moments. Adjusting.

His cock pulsed at her entrance, rubbing the tip up against her dripping slit coating himself in her wetness, making them both moan in pleasure and anticipation. Sweat beaded on their bodies. His breathing became more ragged as she moaned in desire to have him inside of her. Then she gently pulled him towards her, filling her.

The sensation was overwhelming; it felt as though the universe itself was exploding inside of her. Opening her eyes, she took in the sight of him - so near, so intimate - all hers. After a moment's pause, he began moving within her, deeper each time – slowly at first and then with confidence – guided by his primal instincts. His senses were on high alert to every sound and movement she made, poised to stop at any sign of discomfort.

The unfamiliar warmth inside her stretched and filled her body in a way she never imagined possible. A sharp pang raced through her, making her toes curl involuntarily. He immediately stopped.

“Did I hurt you?” Ominis whispered into her ear, concern lacing his voice. “Are you good?”.

“Yes, I’m good. And you?” she breathed.

In response, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Their mouths moved together as their bodies soon did the same. He continued to thrust his hips, his cock plunging deep into her core. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies. He continued to grind his hips against hers, the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance with every movement. Feeling as though she was floating on air, she cupped his cheeks and kissed him tenderly, silently marveling at the fact that Ominis was doing such things with her.

A low grunt emanated from deep within his chest as he began moving in and out of her steadily, one hand gripping her waist while the other intertwined with her fingers above their heads. As he buried himself inside her one last time, a moan spilled from her lips, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of his release. 

The weight of his body got heavier, making Lorrain realize he was beginning to relax. He pulled out slowly, the gentle movement causing her to flinch at the absence of his presence, her innocent whimper piercing the silence of the room. She rolled to her side facing him, studying his face determinedly. He did as well, his fingers lightly dancing on her side. Tender caresses rained on her cheek for a moment, gently sweeping away the damp strands of hair clinging to her flushed face. Lorra drew herself nearer to Ominis, their bodies touching once more. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on her forehead before she nestled into his chest, breathing deeply of his now familiar scent, a blend of warmth and comfort that enveloped her completely. 

The storm continued to rage outside, its relentless howling and pounding echoing against the small, neglected window of the door. Ominis shivered involuntarily from the biting cold, prompting the girl to glance at the fire. As if responding to her unspoken request, the flames intensified, casting a warm, comforting glow that enveloped them beneath the sheets.

" Meva Lorra..." Ominis murmured softly with his eyes closed, his hand reaching out to touch her lips but instead brushing against her nose.

She chuckled, leaning forward as she gently pressed her lips to his. "What does that mean?" she asked. 

His thumb traced her bottom lip, guiding him to his desired target. He then whispered the answer against her lips: "Mine." 

[asherrzzz]

My first post on here is gonna be about my WoF OC, Basilisk :)

(I'm still working on how to draw scars so forgive me 🥲)

Basilisk was one of the Rainwing's that had been captured. He was captured a couple months before Glory and the other Dragonets arrived in the Rainwing kingdom. He used to be carefree and fun-loving, if not a little quiet but after staying on such a horrible island for so long, his attitude changed severely.

Basilisk attempted to break out multiple times. He got the scar on his snout from a Nightwing guard after one of his escape plans failed. He stopped trying to escape after this, becoming even more bitter and hateful after the Nightwings not only starved/tortured his friends, but also scarring his face.

He was rescued by Queen Glory and her friends eventually, though he only grew more angry (and slightly paranoid) when the Nightwings moved into the Rainwing Kingdom.

After Basilisk.. accidentally scared a Nightwing and caused him to fall into quick sand, Queen Glory sent him to Jade Mountain Academy where he would hopefully learn to get along with other dragonets. He was placed into the Emerald Winglet with a Sandwing clawmate named Nighthawk.

Surprisingly, the two got along pretty well. Nighthawk even gave him an odd gift, a moonstone earring. Basilisk doesn't know how or where Nighthawk got it, but ever since he's gotten the gift he's been sleeping like a newborn dragonet (sleeping was a hard thing to do for Basilisk, since he had reccuring nightmares about Nightwing Island).

Nighthawk has also encouraged Basilisk to write stories. Basilisk wasn't a bad writer, in all honesty. He often wrote stories similar to his own or other dragon's experiences. He decided to try it out, going under the anonymous name ‘Enigma’.

The lizards that he's based off of. Basilisk has a similar color scheme that I've yet to add 😞

[pupsmailbox]

DRAGON ID PACK

NAMES︰ adalinda.　anastasia.　apalala.　apep.　arrow.　attor.　azar.　basilisk.　belinda.　blake.　blaze.　boruta.　brande.　cadmus.　cain.　chaos.　chimera.　chua.　chumana.　chusi.　crow.　danbala.　devlin.　dia.　diahna.　diamond.　diamontina.　dice.　diederik.　diedrick.　dierk.　drache.　drachen.　draco.　dracul.　drago.　dragomir.　drake.　drakon.　draven.　ember.　emerald.　fafnir.　fraener.　gem.　gemalynn.　gemariah.　gemini.　george.　gold.　goldwin.　goldwine.　goldwyn.　gunther.　horner.　hydra.　indigo.　iseul.　jade.　jaydeen.　jayden.　jewel.　kaida kaida.　kaliyah.　kayda.　kenna.　khaleesi.　kirin.　knucker.　lilith.　longwei.　ludwig.　malinda.　medus.　melusine.　morgan.　mortem.　nithe.　nox.　obsidian.　onyx.　ormr.　orochi.　pachua.　pearl.　pearla.　pearlina.　quetzalcoatl.　raven.　ren.　ring.　ringo.　ruby.　ryoko.　ryuu.　salem.　scales.　scylla.　shade.　shenron.　shesha.　siegfried.　silver.　silverio.　slayer.　sol.　storm.　stormy.　syrax.　tanis.　tatsuya.　tiamat.　vale.　valryon.　veles.　viper.　vyara.　wyvern.　zafira.　zahhak.

PRONOUNS︰ ancient/ancient.　bon/bone.　bonk/bonk.　bump/bump.　cae/caer.　chi/chime.　co/coin.　coal/coal.　crown/crown.　dae/daem.　daey/daem.　dar/dark.　dia/diamond.　die/dice.　dra/dra.　dra/drac.　dra/draco.　dra/drago.　dra/dragon.　dra/drak.　dra/drake.　drae/draer.　drae/drago.　drag/drag.　dragon/dragon.　dy/dym.　emerald/emerald.　fang/fang.　fea/feather.　fire/fire.　flap/flap.　flight/flight.　fly/fly.　fur/fur.　ge/gem.　gem/gem.　gol/gold.　grim/grim.　hoard/hoard.　horn/horn.　ink/ink.　jade/jade.　jet/jet.　jewel/jewel.　legend/legend.　legend/legendary.　legendary/legendary.　li/lich.　mort/mort.　night/night.　nom/nom.　pearl/pearl.　poke/poke.　rawr/rawr.　ring/ring.　ruby/ruby.　scale/scale.　scale/scaly.　si/silk.　silver/silver.　spike/spike.　stomp/stomp.　storm/storm.　tooth/teeth.　tuft/tuft.　ve/vair.　voi/void.　wing/wing.　wing/winged.　wisp/wisp.　wy/wyr.

[honeygh0s1]

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tom Riddle Headcanons, Part II

Post-Hogwarts / The Rise

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After graduation, he traveled in near-isolation. Always researching. Always learning. Always alone.

Learned how to weaponize silence, entire conversations could pass without him speaking. He only spoke when absolutely necessary.

Moved with unnerving grace. Quiet. Precise. Like a cat that had never been caught.

If he had an Animagus form, it would be a snow leopard: rare, deadly, and never meant to be tamed.

His eyes developed a faint red tinge from years of dark magic, just a stain that never left.

He wore jewelry: rings mostly, but for a time he wore enchanted emerald earrings. They were of his own creation, allowing him to read even the more reluctant minds.

Smelled like grapes, black tea, and the faintest trace of vanilla. A scent you remembered even when you didn’t want to.

Began to think ( and sometimes speak ) in the third person. Referred to himself as Lord Voldemort more often than not.

Learned several languages. Wore glamours. Signed with different initials. He played many roles, this was a time when he was whoever he needed to be to achieve what he wanted.

Still wrote in his diary. Everything went in: theories, rituals, betrayals, names. It was enchanted to never run out of pages. Always kept on his person.

Spam-used Legilimency on anyone he passed: shopkeepers, strangers, political figures. He liked knowing what people thought before they spoke.

Flirted with exact precision, never sincerity. Charm as manipulation. Nothing more.

Slept no more than a few hours at a time. Not from insomnia but from control.

Ever the gossip, he collected knowledge like gold: political scandals, secret alliances, bloodline histories. Not just in Britain, everywhere.

A compulsive book hoarder. Duplicated Hogwarts texts before he left. Chased the rare, the banned, the forgotten. It was almost liberating to have knowledge like no other.

Took trophies from his victims: wands, rings, torn bits of robes. Physical echoes of conquest.

Had minimal contact with his knights in Britain. He’d vanish, then reappear perhaps with a new scar and never explain where he’d been.

Never stopped perfecting his appearance. If anything, he became more beautiful the darker he grew. Even his most loyal followers were a tad unsettled.

Still thought of Hogwarts. The Chamber. The basilisk. With possession. They were his.

Once, on his travels, he came dangerously close to death. Within the year, he made the cup and the locket into Horcruxes. He never forgot how it felt to nearly vanish.

He needed to be remembered. Maybe Tom feared being forgotten more than he feared death.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[aspiringtrashpanda]

Satan "knows a guy" for everything. I love how social Satan is. I feel like we don't talk about it enough.

Find the prompt list HERE.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

DAY 7 Prompt: Satan

It was a warm day in the Devildom. Not uncomfortably warm to the degree where peeling off your skin would be the only way to seek relief – No, it was only that warm in the desert region to the south, or in the steaming waters of Asmodeus’s bathtub – but warm enough that you could comfortably stroll from store to store in a shirt without requiring a sweater. 

“It is a nice day out,” Satan observed, though you weren’t sure if he was speaking to himself or expecting an answer from you. 

Apparently, you guessed wrong when you assumed the former. Curiosity tangoed with amusement in his sea green eyes, peering at you as you took slightly longer strides than usual to keep up with his brisk pace. “Is that why you wanted to accompany me?” 

“No.” You shook your head, tugging open the door to Hell’s Supermarket and grinning at him with all your teeth. He thanked you, a slightly bewildered expression lancing across his face as he entered the store before you. He probably hadn’t anticipated such a direct response. 

“Ah! Satan! Good afternoon,” A fresh faced demon waved from where she leaned over the death deli counter. “Your turn to buy the groceries?”

“Yes.” With a charming smile that squinted his eyes into crescent moons, Satan offered a playful, “I’m lucky I wasn’t the one on grocery duty yesterday.”

You grabbed a basket, and started surveying the meat that the demon had available. Though you pretended to be very occupied choosing between smoked basilisk and oven-roasted black tapir, you eavesdropped on the easy volley of conversation between the store clerk and the Avatar of Wrath. 

“Oh, yes. The rain was just awful.” She frowned, “Your brother made quite a fuss when he stormed in here.”

Satan laughed sheepishly, “Well, that’s Mammon’s fault for failing to check the forecast.” 

The demon giggled, glancing towards you for a brief moment before concluding, “Sure, but I’m certainly happy to see you in his place. What can I get the two of you today?”  

“Why are you smiling?” Satan asked as you both exited the store, two shopping bags in his grasp. 

“No reason.” You chirped, unable to hide the giddy bubble swelling in your chest. A lie would have to suffice. “If I close my eyes, the moonlight is almost as bright as the sun.” 

And you did just that, allowing the affection thrumming throughout your body to spill over into a silly display of closing your eyes and craning your face towards the moon. You heard Satan click his tongue, though you know it was less a sound of irritation, and more a warning to the many demons passing by to watch out for your blind steps. 

Despite the beautiful weather, the downtown strip wasn’t overwhelmingly busy. Merchants seemed to be taking advantage of the quiet afternoon, tidying the front of their stores or preparing new window displays. Even the patio of Hell’s Kitchen was rather empty, with only a handful of patrons munching on a burger and sipping a glass of demonus.

“Are you homesick?” Satan asked, sometime after he had used a book he thought would interest the shopkeeper at Demoning to negotiate a deal on tea leaves, and sometime before making plans to visit the theater with the piano technician at the music store. You had stopped there to purchase a new metronome, as the old one had mysteriously disappeared (Mammon had probably sold it), but you weren’t bothered in the slightest by the employee's fifteen minute review of the visiting symphony. Frankly, Satan committing to plans with someone outside of the House of Lamentation delighted you greatly. 

“Nah.” This time, it wasn’t a lie. 

His steps paused. His emerald eyes swept over you, his brow slightly creased as he tried to see into your soul. You weren’t sure what he surmised from your body language, but he came to some sort of conclusion, as he turned on his heel. “Wait here for a moment.”

You watched as his mop of golden hair retreated across the street, to the bored popcorn vendor lingering outside of Café Lament. It was entertaining, the way he moved with such alert grace. You could practically picture fluffy ears flicking this way and that atop his head. 

He did possess a sort of feline quality, in his movements, in his behavior. He managed to hold a conversation while being more observant than the average demon about his surroundings. The entire time the vendor filled his order, he made small talk that seemed genuine despite his attention remaining on you. You could feel it. 

Satan returned with popcorn, movie theater yellow and wrapped up in a commercial striped bucket. “It’s simple butter and salt. I figured you may want a snack that reminds you of home. The vendor also had an extra coffee from Café Lament, and he was nice enough to offer it to me.” 

You accepted the gift, regardless of the meaning. If it comforted Satan to think that he had cheered you up by buying you a snack, then you would let it be. In reality, simply existing in his space was what had encouraged you to accompany him from the start. His company was quiet, honest, and steady. 

You knocked your popcorn carton against his coffee cup.

You had a feeling many others appreciated his company, too. 

Well, except for the jackass who slammed right into Satan’s chest. The demon’s face had been buried in his D.D.D. It was now dripping with premium hell coffee.

You flinched, gasped, braced yourself for the inevitable blow up. Satan’s hand – the one that wasn’t drenched in spilt coffee – clamped onto the demon’s bicep, steered him off to the side of the street. Should you look away? It was probably best to avoid witnessing a murder.

But then, the demon was walking away, completely unscathed, and Satan was returning to your side with only a mildly perturbed expression. 

“You aren’t upset?” You asked, eyeing the bright skin of his index finger where the hot coffee had gushed over his skin. 

“Hm?” He didn’t seem to understand why you would even ask. “No. Why would I be? It was an honest mistake.”

It was as if the record had skipped and you were stuck in this moment where only the audience understood the irony of the situation. You filled him in. “Lucifer did the same thing when he was half-asleep two weeks ago and you summoned hellfire to burn his phonograph to smithereens.”

“Well,” Satan laughed, loud and brash. “That was personal.” 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

OBEY ME! MONTH MASTERLIST

[fleecethecat]

therian names

adalinda.　anastasia.　apalala.　apep.　arrow.　attor.　azar.　basilisk.　belinda.　blake.　blaze.　boruta.　brande.　cadmus.　cain.　chaos.　chimera.　chua.　chumana.　chusi.　crow.　danbala.　devlin.　dia.　diahna.　diamond.　diamontina.　dice.　diederik.　diedrick.　dierk.　drache.　drachen.　draco.　dracul.　drago.　dragomir.　drake.　drakon.　draven.　ember.　emerald.　fafnir.　fraener.　gem.　gemalynn.　gemariah.　gemini.　george.　gold.　goldwin.　goldwine.　goldwyn.　gunther.　horner.　hydra.　indigo.　iseul.　jade.　jaydeen.　jayden.　jewel.　kaida kaida.　kaliyah.　kayda.　kenna.　khaleesi.　kirin.　knucker.　lilith.　longwei.　ludwig.　malinda.　medus.　melusine.　morgan.　mortem.　nithe.　nox.　obsidian.　onyx.　ormr.　orochi.　pachua.　pearl.　pearla.　pearlina.　quetzalcoatl.　raven.　ren.　ring.　ringo.　ruby.　ryoko.　ryuu.　salem.　scales.　scylla.　shade.　shenron.　shesha.　siegfried.　silver.　silverio.　slayer.　sol.　storm.　stormy.　syrax.　tanis.　tatsuya.　tiamat.　vale.　valryon.　veles.　viper.　vyara.　wyvern.　zafira.　zahhak.

[leondxs]

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ?

BOLD any which apply to your muse

(Italicize borderline things.)

REPOST ! Feel free to ADD to the list !

red // orange // yellow // green // blue // purple // pink // black // white // brown // beige // silver // gold // copper // iron // steel // platinum // diamond // pearl // ruby // sapphire // emerald // amethyst // quartz // lapis lazuli // peridot // heat // cold // fire // ice // water // air // earth // metal // lightning // thunder // wind // clouds // rain // mist // steam // dewdrops // rainbow // snow // frost // claws // talons // beak // fangs // teeth // wings // fur // feathers // scales // nude // messy hair // lips // smiles // eyes // hands // stripes // spots // blotches // freckles // grass // leaves // bark // roots // nuts // berries // petals // thorns // rose // lavender // poppy // daisy // lily // tulip // palm trees // fungi // decay // dirt // dust // sand // clay // mud // ash // smoke // charcoal // lava // stone // rocks // pebbles // brick // rust // lace // leather // silk // velvet // denim // cotton // wool // sun // moon // full moon // new moon // crescent moon // eclipse // stars // constellations // day // night // sunlight // moonlight // dusk // dawn // midnight // twilight // light // dark // time // space // antimatter // winter // spring // summer // fall // sugar // salt // spices // herbs // minerals // glass // porcelain // mirrors // wood // bone // candles // papers // books // tomes // scrolls // poetry // sketches // photos // paint // filing cabinets // cigarettes // cigars // coffee // tea // hard liquor // beer // wine // candy // meat // fish // vegetables // fruits // glitter // bubbles // ocean // waves //

river // lake // stream // mountain // cliff // cave // valley // city // cars // smog // neon // skyscrapers // countryside // farms // hay // bruises // scratches // scars // blood // sweat // tears // dreams // technology // wires // glitches // pixels // hacking // espionage // distortion // digital // analog // clocks // phone // video games // television // synthetic // plastic // silicone // clothes // rags // robes // t-shirt // jeans // sweaters // trenchcoats // uniforms // slacks // shorts // lingerie // dresses // skirts // lanyards // hats // rings // bracelets // necklaces // earrings // piercings // unlaced boots // heels // sneakers // canine // feline // mammals // birds // reptiles // amphibians // insects // arachnids // swords // longswords // cutlass // rapier // claymore // dagger // knife // spear // scythe // bow // arrows // staff // bat // club // hammer // axe // mace // scimitar // kukri // katana // whip // flail // shield // spikes // pistol // assault rifle // shotgun // SMGs // machine-gun // sniper rifles // cannons // grenades // C4 / phosphor // religion // mythology // churches // symbols // angels // demons // otherworldly // heaven // hell // purgatory // afterlife // resurrection // holiness // purity // impurity // life // death // graveyards // nature // spirits // souls // medicine // needles // chemicals // science // superheroes // dragons // wyverns // unicorns // pegasi // griffins // phoenix // nymphs // mermaids // werewolves // vampires // manticore // chimaera // basilisks // piano // violin // cello // electric guitar // clarinet // flute // drums // triangle // harp // xylophone // singing // choir

Tagged by: @macabrec0uture <3

Tagging: @smilingmxsk @arcanescholxr @bladeandspell @cicero-the-assassin and you!

[macabrec0uture]

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ?

BOLD any which apply to your muse

(Italicize borderline things.)

REPOST ! Feel free to ADD to the list !

red // orange // yellow // green // blue // purple // pink // black // white // brown // beige // silver // gold // copper // iron // steel // platinum // diamond // pearl // ruby // sapphire // emerald // amethyst // quartz // lapis lazuli // peridot // heat // cold // fire // ice // water // air // earth // metal // lightning // thunder // wind // clouds // rain // mist // steam // dewdrops // rainbow // snow // frost // claws // talons // beak // fangs // teeth // wings // fur // feathers // scales // nude // messy hair // lips // smiles // eyes // hands // stripes // spots // blotches // freckles // grass // leaves // bark // roots // nuts // berries // petals // thorns // rose // lavender // poppy // daisy // lily // tulip // palm trees // fungi // decay // dirt // dust // sand // clay // mud // ash // smoke // charcoal // lava // stone // rocks // pebbles // brick // rust // lace // leather // silk // velvet // denim // cotton // wool // sun // moon // full moon // new moon // crescent moon // eclipse // stars // constellations // day // night // sunlight // moonlight // dusk // dawn // midnight // twilight // light // dark // time // space // antimatter // winter // spring // summer // fall // sugar // salt // spices // herbs // minerals // glass // porcelain // mirrors // wood // bone // candles // papers // books // tomes // scrolls // poetry // sketches // photos // paint // filing cabinets // cigarettes // cigars // coffee // tea // hard liquor // beer // wine // candy // meat // fish // vegetables // fruits // glitter // bubbles // ocean // waves //

river // lake // stream // mountain // cliff // cave // valley // city // cars // smog // neon // skyscrapers // countryside // farms // hay // bruises // scratches // scars // blood // sweat // tears // dreams // technology // wires // glitches // pixels // hacking // espionage // distortion // digital // analog // clocks // phone // video games // television // synthetic // plastic // silicone // clothes // rags // robes // t-shirt // jeans // sweaters // trenchcoats // uniforms // slacks // shorts // lingerie // dresses // skirts // lanyards // hats // rings // bracelets // necklaces // earrings // piercings // unlaced boots // heels // sneakers // canine // feline // mammals // birds // reptiles // amphibians // insects // arachnids // swords // longswords // cutlass // rapier // claymore // dagger // knife // spear // scythe // bow // arrows // staff // bat // club // hammer // axe // mace // scimitar // kukri // katana // whip // flail // shield // spikes // pistol // assault rifle // shotgun // SMGs // machine-gun // sniper rifles // cannons // grenades // C4 / phosphor // religion // mythology // churches // symbols // angels // demons // otherworldly // heaven // hell // purgatory // afterlife // resurrection // holiness // purity // impurity // life // death // graveyards // nature // spirits // souls // medicine // needles // chemicals // science // superheroes // dragons // wyverns // unicorns // pegasi // griffins // phoenix // nymphs // mermaids // werewolves // vampires // manticore // chimaera // basilisks // piano // violin // cello // electric guitar // clarinet // flute // drums // triangle // harp // xylophone // singing // choir

Tagged by: @v011d thank you!

Tagging: @arcanescholxr, @the-expatriate, @lcstxsculx (Ethan), @leondxs, @ilingeron, @baby-royalty, @dreamswideawake, @lordofthestrix, @xxthedragonboyxx and you!

[thcrealheroes]

WHAT ARE YOUR MUSE’S AESTHETICS ?

BOLD any which apply to your muse ( italicize borderline things ) remember to REPOST ! feel free to ADD to the list !

red  // orange  //  yellow // green //  blue //  purple //  pink  //  black  // white //  brown  // beige  // silver //  gold  // copper  // iron //  steel //  platinum  //  diamond  //  pearl  //  ruby  //  sapphire  // emerald  //  amethyst  //  quartz  //  lapis lazuli //  peridot  // heat //  cold //  fire //  ice  // water  // air  //  earth //  metal //  lightning // thunder //  wind //  clouds // rain  //  mist //  steam  //  dewdrops  //  rainbow  //  snow  //  frost  //  claws //  talons  //  beak  // fangs  //  teeth //  wings  //  fur //  feathers  //  scales //  nude  //  bare feet //  lips //  smiles  //  eyes //  hands //  stripes  //  spots  //  blotches  //  rosettes  //  freckles  // grass //   leaves  // trees  // bark  //  roots  //  nuts  //  berries  //  petals  //  thorns // rose  // lavender  //  poppy  //  daisy  //  lily  // tulip  //  fungi  //  decay  //  dirt //  dust //  sand  //  clay  //  mud  // ash //  smoke  // charcoal //  lava //  stone  //  rocks  //  pebbles  //  brick //  rust  //  lace  // leather //  silk  //  velvet  //  denim  // cotton  //  wool  // sun //  moon  // full moon //  new moon  //  crescent moon  //  eclipse  // stars  // constellations //  day  // night //  sunlight  // moonlight // dusk //  dawn //  midnight // twilight //  light // dark //  time  //  space  //  anti-matter  // winter //  spring  // summer  //  fall  // sugar // salt //  spices  //  herbs  //  minerals  //  glass  //  porcelain  //  mirrors  //  wood //  bone  // candles //  paper // books //  tomes  //  scrolls  //  poetry  // sketches  // photos //  paint  // cigarettes //  cigars  // coffee  //  tea  // hard liquor // beer //  wine //  candy // meat  // fish  // vegetables //  fruits  //  glitter  //  bubbles  //  foam  //  ocean  //  waves  //  river //  lake  //  stream  //  mountain  //  cliff  //  cave  //  valley  //  city  //  cars  //  smog  //  neon  // skyscrapers //  countryside  //  farms  //  hay  // bruises  //  scratches  //  scars  //  blood // sweat  // tears //  dreams  //  technology  //  wires  //  glitches  //  pixels // hacking //  distortion  // digital //  analog  //  clocks  //  phone //  video games // television //  synthetic  //  plastic  //  silicone  //  clothes  //  rags  //  robes // t-shirt //  jeans // sweaters  // trenchcoats //  uniforms //  slacks  //  shorts  //  lingerie // dresses  //  skirts  //  hats  // rings  // bracelets  //  necklaces  //  earrings  // piercings  //  boots  //  heels  //  sneakers //  canine // feline  // mammals //  birds  //  reptiles  //  amphibians  //  insects  // arachnids  //  swords  //  longswords  // cutlass  //  rapier  //  claymore  // dagger // knife  //  spear  //  scythe  //  bow  //  arrows  //  staff  // bat  //  club  //  hammer  //  axe  //  mace  //  scimitar  //  kukri  //  katana  //  whip  //  flail  //  shield  //  spikes  // pistol //  rifle  // shotgun  //  machine-gun  //  muskets  //  cannons  // grenades  //  religion  //  mythology // churches // symbols  //  angels // demons  // otherworldly //  heaven  //  hell  //  purgatory  // afterlife //  resurrection  //  holiness  //  purity  //  impurity  // life  //  death //  graveyards  // nature //  spirits  // souls //  medicine // needles  //  chemicals  //  science  //  fiction //  dragons //  wyverns  //  unicorns  //  pegasi  //  griffins  //  phoenix  //  nymphs  //  mermaids  //  werewolves // vampires  //  manticore  //  chimaera  // basilisks  //  piano  //  violin // cello  // guitar //  clarinet  //  flute  // drums  //  triangle  //  harp  //  xylophone  //  singing  //  choir  //

Tagged by: stole from my oldddd asss blog

Tagging: @vghtsupes / @thceye / @h-a-unted / @revcnqe / @tornmask / @citizenstarlight / @voicetress / @dsturbedstudios / @fckindiabolicxl / @homelander-rp-blog / @hcartsleeved / @red-white-and-trauma / @unsnare / @contritioned / @learningtodie / @bruz3r

[newtknewit]

calanthe looks pretty cool, you have more info about her?

Calanthe is a surviving basilisk adopted by Hunter and Willow in my WIP NextGen AU! Here's some quick information before I delve into that whole backstory: Name: Calanthe Species: Basilisk Pronouns: He/her Age: Roughly 14-16 Tracks: Potions and Plants primarily She was accidentally uncovered when Darius led a search party to clear out the old Emperor's Coven laboratory in search of lost information that they could record (with Hunter as a guide, since he knew where the labs were, and the basilisks were too afraid to go anywhere near the area). To everyone's surprise, Belos incubated another batch of basilisks after the first ones had escaped, but died before they could hatch. In the incubation process, without the proper care they needed, all other eggs died except for one: Calanthe. Hunter was the first to discover Calanthe, after being hit with intense memories of the lab and hallucinating. At least he thought he was hallucinating when a vision of himself appeared, turns out it was a basilisk moulding into his form. When he realised this was a physical being, he freaked out at first. Then he saw the black-rimmed blue eyes. The basilisk had imprinted on him, taking on his form as they may typically do as babies. It turned back into a small yellow python-patterned basilisk with blue eyes and light brown hair, to which Hunter and the group had taken it to the Healing Coven for inspection, and later Hunter and Willow had adopted the basilisk since 1. no one else could, and 2. it had already imprinted on them. In this AU, alongside primarily being a palisman carver, Hunter secondarily works with Darius to protect the Boiling Isles' children, creating better safety laws for all and putting more protection in place for the young ones. At the time he discovered and adopted Calanthe, Hunter would've probably been around 25 and was taking part as a student in a school that retaught important life lessons to those who didn't get to learn them. After finishing up with these classes, he transitioned to parenting schools in order to do his best for Calanthe. Willow is living the dream of leading the Emerald Entrails into constant victories, and reassures Hunter that he doesn't need to go to these schools, but he insists, as he absolutely despises the idea of becoming similar to Belos in any way. -Which Willow is actually quite proud of and inspired by.

Thanks to Willow and Hunter, Calanthe gets to live a perfectly normal and happy life, being able to embrace his basilisk side while being treated with the same love and normalcy that every child deserves. Calanthe has changed her appearance many times throughout her life, and still does till this very day, switching it up every now and then when she gets bored. Her primary/favourite appearance is taking inspiration from Willow's fringe, Hunter's face, and a mix between both of their body shapes. This is still a heavy WIP! However, some characters I am planning to add are: Luz + Amity's kids Boscha's child, possibly nonverbal Adrien Graye's neglected/forgotten daughter A Grudgby Team + Captain + Giving IV (now called Ivy) and III (now called Trip) more development and depth (the two basilisks seen in Watching and Dreaming) + King getting a MASSIVE growthspurt There will still be much more to come, once the ideas finally start to pop into my head. Hope this clears up some things! I'm happy you like her design, though it is still a WIP, such as everything else. I am still working on my Cinderkin AU too, in which I might make a 3rd AU combining these two for funsies at some point. It'd be sick to design Calanthe with Cinderkin features! :D

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.06 ~ Top 5 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Emerald Anarchy by @madriddler [M, 145k]

►The entire Fifth Year students need to get resorted due to an article from the Daily Prophet. Already hated by a smear campaign, Harry finds himself vulnerable in the den of snakes because of course he's the only one of two who gets resorted. Alone in Slytherin, Harry will need to learn how to navigate his new House and along the way discover true friends, a forgotten family, and a truth that will change the world as he knows it. That is if he and Draco Malfoy can spend ten minutes together without arguing.

2. a dying ember can still ignite by talkfast [T, 125k]

►Soulmates are incredibly rare in the wizarding world. Their bond is a romantic ideal, written about in fairy tales. The soulbond transcends marriage laws, and is more inherently powerful than any magic that could possibly be taught. It's too pure to be corrupted. Too perfect to be denied. Too bright and beautiful and good to be anything other than a miraculous blessing. Harry Potter, who was raised without any knowledge of the wizarding world, learns all of this much too late. Two stubborn boys turn away from each other to walk separate paths, but find that they keep on looking back.

3. Tandem by fast_brother [M, 92k]

►Harry and Draco meet by accident six years after the war. Harry's an Auror with a drinking problem and Draco's a broke student. Things don't work out well. Six years after that, Draco joins the British Auror Office as a Potioneer.

4. love is made of gold and silver by @millersplanet [T, 42k]

►[...] This version of him looked to be everything Draco had pretended to be in his younger years. Well put-together, effortlessly confident. And there was more. There was an unfamiliar kindness behind his eyes, his mouth sat comfortably in a smile, rather than the thin hard line that he had so well come to know in the past few years.

5. Sleepless Nights and Two Cups of Tea by LookingForNargals & @newowlwhoisdis [M, 42k]

►A few meters gone, he suddenly turned around, looking Harry straight in the eye, and said, “Time to be a student again Potter,” and walked away. The day after, Harry brought hot tea and two cups. /// A story in which Harry is actually affected by trauma after the Triwizard Tournament, Draco is too posh for his own good and adults finally do something.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

(begging for you) take my hand, wreck my plans by @lovelysonnyday [E, 11k]

all the time in the world by MoreSonorous [M, 14k]

Dropped my Wand!! by @blinkingstares [E, 10k]

The Genesis Theory by @stationintern [M, 36k]

Harry Potter (and his ever dirty glasses) by Asprendz & quackerson404 [G, 14k]

Two Weeks by @jtimu [E, 20k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Basilisks & Staircases - A Game of Drarry Fest | @gameofdrarry

HD Mpreg 2023 | @harrydracompreg

HP Fruit Fest 2023 | @hp-fruit-fest

HP Pride Fest 2023 | @hppridefest2023

HP Wedding Fest | @hpweddingfest

Lights Camera Drarry 2023 | @lcdrarry

[fullhouse-bah]

Karai from tmnt 2012 and Karai from rottmnt mixtuve full house myb?

-🥇🪶 ( @number1feather )

DING DING DING! FULL HOUSE 03

karai mixtive -- 🃁

credit1 -- credit2

karai, basilisk, medusa, vipere, solitude, solo, shade, umbra, twilight, monarch, vigil, glyph

" WE'LL KEEP DANCING TIL WE DIE ... "

demigirl snakegender gxrl genderfluid fem

{ she.her shi.hir snake.snakes vi.viper they.them }

butch lesbian ++ homosexual homoromantic

18-21 age slider || human + snake mutant

+ devoted, bold, honest, stern

= rebellious, sarcastic

- rude, mocking, cold, snaply

karai is very simple in terms of how she behaves to others, shi is devoted to hir causes and often tends to be hostile to those they don't know. vi knows viper ideals and sticks to them firmly, snake is quick to get violent and protect those who she considers hir close friends and family.

she's got a strong sense of justice and serves it with sarcastic one-liners and a bit of violence, often rebelling against anything shi sees as unfair or awful, quick to stand for what snake believes is right. snake will defend viper family with their life.

(( AGGRESSIVE PROTECTOR, SURVIVALIST, INSTIGATOR, BUFFER, COUNTERWEIGHT ))

snakes - 2wei || preybirds the watched version - rabbitology

#2a6e3b + banner

likes doing her own thing, spray paint, rebellion, accessories, creating clothes, painting, rage rooms, practicing with her weapon, snakes, tarantulas, things normally seen as creepy, protecting loved ones

dislikes authorities, people being rude, family being threatened or hurt, bright lights, being forced to do things, being misunderstood, slimy things, overly sweet foods

trinkets a small snake bracelet that's too small for her now, a dagger, her wakizashi and sword, a few ponytail holders, jades and emeralds

extra acc

often has varying ponytail holders she changes through unlike the ones in her trinkets which she just likes having around usually green or black. also has little badges she sometimes puts on viper armor or clothes, and can at times wear armor.

trivia

- can get very defensive when needed and often side-eye people who shi insists aren't good in nature. often it's just a vibe check.

- vi will do anything to protect snake's family and more, and has fought in the past for it. has the energy of a grumpy cat yelling at people

- needs a break, banned from coffee due to how she will get too energetic or violent when consuming caffeine.

- after long days, snake tends to lose all of their energy and get high fatigue. usually has varying fatigue levels.

- used to always being in a state of fight or flight, but calmed down over time and seems content and chill.

- if forced to pick a source, will fight. vi lovers both of viper sources, and will do anything to stay at least a little connected to it.

snakekin - turtlehearted - stoat therian - no fictotypes, but prone to developing them.

memories . . likes to speak about them to friends, but won't say them to strangers.

- being raised by shredder, often dislikes these memories

- dueling against others in nimble speed, as well as some painful mutations at the hands of the one shi trusted the most.

- rebelling and turning against shredder due to finding out he isn't viper true father, and then source memories blending afterwards

- becoming leader of the hamato clan afterwards and being a guiding figure to others.

- being revived! quite an interesting feeling, snake has no clue how to describe it in truth, and doesn't like to linger on it for too long.

TYPING STYLE . . .

capitals pretty often for emphasis at the start of words, usually not much punctuation unless being serious.

"Okay so you're telling me that you Endangered yourself. Why would you even do That. Do you know how Risky it is?"

{ - 🐍🗡️ || ⚔️🌱 || 🖤🍀 || 🐾🐍 }

I actually know Jack shit about TMNT sorry if this is very wrong -🍁

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Nineteen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I felt this story severely lacks dragon content. I want to make up for that. I hope you enjoy the little spice I've sprinkled in there toward the end. ;) Thank you so much for your support!!

Chapter Warnings: Implied cannibalism, dubcon.

Translation Guide: Zaldrītsos ipradagon: little dragon eater. Pālēs: turn. Kelītīs: halt. Lykirī: calm. Dohaerās: serve. (I tried my best to use proper grammar. Please don't call the High Valryian police.)

"Father, don't blame us for trying to live, for trying to love, for wanting more? Why did you dress our pleasure up as greed? While you're limiting our love, taking sunlight from the seed? Why did you give us hearts we don't understand, like an apple in our hand that you'll never let us have?" - AURORA, The Devil is Human.

It was midday before you decided to venture from your cotton sheets, letting you and the servants rest as much as possible before ringing the bell that signaled them to your room. Your ladies did not commence the morning ritual you had come to despise. They, too, must have also participated in a celebration last night and were nursing the same headache as you.

You stretched and yawned as you basked in the yellow afternoon sun that peeked through the emerald curtains, relaxing your achy muscles. The balcony appeared relatively comfortable in the daylight, and you decided to venture out, sitting on a cushioned bench. A cold breeze passed through King's Landing, picking up the withered plants across the ground and billowing your night dress around your bare ankles.

Winter was only weeks away. The once viridian foliage was now barren, revealing the wooden bones of each plant. The grass was a burnt orange from the lack of nutrients the soil provided, and no more earthy-smelling flowers were sprouting within the cracks of the flagstones. Death and decay surrounded you, bringing comfort despite how desolate everything appeared.

You hoped that snow would fall in the coming months. It would be the closest thing to home again.

You could reminisce fondly about your first wintertide at Dragonstone, the thick flurry of snowflakes blanketing the sandy beaches and rocks that covered the island, but never upon the castle itself. You remembered staring out of one of the many black stone towers and observing the steam rising from a carved basilisk as the slush melted. It was as if the haunting creature had the heat of a living being. It disturbed you immensely, plaguing you with endless nightmares alone in your apartments.

For the small folk, winter in King's Landing was always strife. Sickness and starvation were rampant throughout Flea Bottom that time of year, inflicting everyone no matter how plentiful the harvest was. It agonized you to no end each season you spent at Dragonstone, your stomach in knots if Madam or the other residents had enough to eat and if they managed to survive whatever illness spread.

The wintertime of your sixth year was the most gruesome. The growing season was met with drought, and when it came time to harvest, the merchant carts were bare. Ma tried to conceal the difficulty that year brought by distracting you with oral lessons in history and math, but no matter how much a parent attempted to protect their child, it was never enough.

You remembered the taste of the stale loaf of bread the whores shared throughout the week, the texture of jerky meat, and the ache it gave your jaw when chewing.

The atrocities you witnessed your fellow neighbors commit left you feeling hollow, memories of people burying the emaciated bodies of their kin only to dig them up. You were uncertain why they would do such a thing at the time. It was a sin against the Seven to desecrate the bodies of the deceased, and you had questioned Ma why they would do it. She hadn't given you an answer then, but you didn't need one. You already knew. Even in your youth, you could comprehend the atrocities of man.

Though you were a Targaryen, the hot blood of the dragon coursing through your veins, you preferred the colder weather.

Perhaps the reason was because of the Northern blood within you. It was rumored that your mother came from the area, but exactly where you were unconfident. The only other person who could attest to your mother's lineage besides herself was dead, swept from this mortal realm by the Hand and the Stranger, their head on a spike left to rot until forgotten. But you would remember. You would never forget nor forgive.

You thought back to the feast and how scores of meals were brought out and left over by the end. The scraps alone were enough to feed the entirety of the slums and still have more than enough to satiate all the guests. You hadn't felt remorseful at the time as you indulged yourself in a slice of ham, but in the light of day, the unawareness of your actions caused a profound contempt to grow. Gazing over the hundreds of cottages in various architectural states made you realize how disconnected you became from your roots.

Living a life of luxury made you into what you despised as a child—an out-of-touch, uppity, supercilious highborn.

You and the court members had more in common than you admitted, which was disgusting in and of itself. A sickening feeling of self-hatred permeated in your gut, causing you to retreat into the comfort of your space.

You needed to change. You needed to use your position of power to help the people of King's Landing.

You hadn't realized you were pacing until your ladies entered your room, a silver tray of tea and fruits in Dyana's hands. Fiora gave a charming grin in greeting as Jeyne went straight to your wardrobe, a storm of crimson skirts.

"Good morn Princess," the littlest maid said, placing your food on a table.

You smiled in admission, but it did not reach your eyes, putting your thumb between your teeth and pulling a piece of dead skin. Fiora and Dyana changed your sheets, replacing the breathable cotton with thicker wool as you broke your fast. The red cherries stained the tips of your fingers, mixing with the blood from your torn cuticles, the juice burning the open skin. You didn't wince at the pain, continuing to eat as your mind conjured up different ideas for the future.

From this moment on, you promised yourself never to stop. Never douse the flames of your drive to do what needs to be done. You would burn any lord, lady, prince, king, or queen who stood in your way.

***

The day continued without a hitch. Most of the guests from last night were still asleep or had already left for their homes while you were resting.

It was pleasant to walk the halls without having to create a polite conversation with people who would turn in the same breath and spread vicious rumors of your brother's parentage and spit vile insults that always referenced your birth. As twisted as it was, you hoped that one day you would hear something more interesting than the word "bastard." But it might be too much to ask the people at court to use their minds for something besides counting how many coins they reaped from their land.

Truthfully, you didn't have much to do. There were no Council meetings after events like these; everyone was still recovering from the night of debauchery, even the men who helped run the kingdom. It left you with nothing to do except plot and scheme and live within the torture of your mind.

You made your servants dress you in your favorite winter riding clothes to mark the season's coming. A magnificent statement piece that Rhaenyra commissioned for you as a Winter Solstice present.

The short, long-sleeved dress bathed your frame in flowing blood-red velvet trimmed with black braiding and lace with a high collar secured at the neckline to protect you from freezing temperatures. A dramatic steel pin of a three-headed dragon kept the heavy material together on your shoulders. A collection of practical and fashionable buttons were sewn onto the fabric to cover your torso, stopping at your hips to give you a range of motion and the allusion of a full gown to hide the trousers underneath.

You decided to take advantage of the rare break to see your dragon. You felt terrible for neglecting Cannibal the past week, leaving him to explore the skies of King's Landing in his solitude. He was accustomed to a life of isolation. Most of his fellow species were terrified of him and left the black dragon alone for a good reason.

In the beginning, Cannibal did not take well to being kept in the part of Dragonmont where the other creatures were, thrashing in the Keepers' hold like an unbroken stallion and breaking the chains that bound him multiple times.

Daemon had commanded you to beat submission into Cannibal more than once, giving you a long whip to have him obey your commands. You were hesitant and felt your heart shatter as the leather cracked his scales, but after much arguing, your father convinced you that it was the only way. Beasts like the Cannibal did not listen to any other language.

You had snuck out of the castle the evening it happened, leading the ferocious animal out of the caves and letting him fly to his home on the eastern side. There was a silent understanding between rider and dragon that night as you stared into his menacing green eyes.

Cannibal felt your sorrow for hurting him, realizing that you were just as afraid in your ways, lashing out whenever threatened and angry at the world for things you could not control. That night he lowered himself willingly to let you ride, taking you over the islands of Driftmark, Sharp Point, and Claw Isle. He did not speed through the midnight skies but soared high and low, letting his pointed wings slice the salty waters below and glide over the clouds until all you saw were stars and the waxing moon.

Since then, you and the Cannibal had a true bond of rider and dragon. Not one owning the other, but equals on land and the sky.

Unsurprisingly, you could not find your dragon within the Pit as you explored and asked the Keepers if he had appeared. While Cannibal had stopped briefly, attempting to enter for a snack but wisely deciding against it, no one had seen him.

You continued journeying undeterred, following your instincts as you traveled along the outer ring of walls in the Red Keep, enjoying the brisk air on your cheeks. You found a small exit that went out to private beach access. To those outside these red rock walls, it was only accessible by boat. You were optimistic he would be there, curled under one of the many rocky cliffs that reminded you both of home.

Sure enough, you saw the droppings that could only belong to a beast of his size. There were tracks on the shore, indents, and drag marks throughout the pale sand. Piles of bones leading up to where you spotted him, eyes shut and scales so dark that it looked like there was a hole in this realm. You noticed his nostrils twitch as you drew closer, indicating that he caught the scent of what you carried and was awake.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you called in a sing-song voice, feigning to creep behind him as you scratched his tail with your fingers.

Cannibal pretended to nap, acting as if you couldn't see how his eyelids moved.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you repeated, walking closer to his horned head. "I know you are sore that I have neglected you these past days, but I've brought something that I think you'll like..." you trailed off, exaggerating the last word.

Finally, he opened his eyes, the vivid yellow-green of his irises indicating that this massive void was an animal. You revealed the dragon egg that you stole from Dreamfyre's clutch.

"You know, I barely made it out alive," you taunted, raising the textured brown oval as Cannibal unhinged his jaws.

Before he could take a bite, you leaped away, hiding his present behind your back as he let out a warning growl. You rolled your eyes, the cruelness of your actions not lost on you.

"Oh, please. If you eat me, who else would risk their lives to steal another dragon's child for you?" you interrogated as if he could talk. "Exactly. No one. You would be all alone again, hoping someone like me would come along so you don't have to work for food again. I think you have become rather lazy over the years. Mayhaps I should stop bringing you food and make you fend for yourself, hmm?"

You felt the earth tremble beneath your feet as Cannibal stood, shaking the stray sand that landed on his body as he bared his elongated teeth.

Numerous people said that dragons couldn't comprehend the common tongue and that it was pointless to communicate with them, but it wasn't about what language you spoke, but how you felt as you said it. All animals could sense the emotions of other beings; you didn't have to bark to have a dog listen to you. You didn't have to squeal so that pigs knew when their slop was coming; they could sense it-- sense you.

You had grown a habit of testing the limits of Cannibal's basic instincts, wondering in the back of your mind if today might be the day he loses himself to his past and becomes the monster the small folk of Dragonstone believed him to be.

But the conviction you held within your bond would snuff that out quicker than he could fry a hatchling. It didn't make it any less frightening, though, as a roar blew loose the hair from your pined style, saliva splattering on your forehead.

"Fine! Here!" you relented, throwing the egg directly into his opening mouth as he chewed with a stomach-turning crunch.

He still wore the custom leather saddle between two large spikes on his lower neck. It was always a hassle for the Keepers to take off, and you needed more time to remove it when you first arrived at King's Landing. Cannibal became accustomed to it and hardly noticed the thirty-stone piece of equipment as he continued his hermit lifestyle.

"Let us fly today," you spoke softly, with no hint of your jesting tone from earlier. I shall see if I can wrangle you something live when we finish. Some pork would settle nicely in your gut, don't you think?"

You stood with a giddy smile as Cannibal lowered himself so you could clutch hold of the rope ladder along his side, adjusting until you were satisfied in your seat. You loved the aching stretch the saddle gave between your legs, your dragon pushing from the sand into the skies. That was also a relaxing feeling for him as he flapped his enormous midnight wings.

Cannibal took you over the entire townlet, soaring above the small folk as they halted and stared. Seeing as three claimed dragons were already housed within Rhaenys's hill, one being the largest in history, it shouldn't have been such a marvel to them. Though you took the admiration in stride, commanding your dragon with a "dracarys" as a burst of orange flames spewed from his massive jaws into the blue sky. You could hear the awe within their murmurs, smiling down at them as you shared your gift.

Your little dragon eater was more than happy to put on a show, nose-diving into a crowd of onlookers as they watched with horror and shrieks, sure that the beast was going to kill them before he abruptly swooped up, leaving them unharmed and knocking them over from the sheer force.

It was freeing to be on Dragonback. Especially when your dragon was more feared than even the war-hardened Vhagar, flown by the notoriously haughty One-Eyed Prince. To feel the wind whipping your hair, biting your cheeks, the sun warming you with its intense glow. You could feel the moisture from the clouds collecting on your thick black braids, creating tiny water droplets that glimmered like diamonds.

You flew over Blackwater Bay, the sea mist collecting on your eyelashes, the salty taste bursting on your tongue as you licked your lips. There were merchant ships larger than Balerion's skeleton residing at the many docks, the crew members looking like tiny grains of rice as they loaded shipments and hoisted sails.

As a child stuck to the sandstone streets of Flea Bottom, you never imagined yourself as someone who would one day be claiming the skies. The girl who once looked above at the stars as she sat on Lyra's lap was now one with them; what you wouldn't give for her to see you now.

Leaning your body and shouting the command, "pālēs!" Cannibal took you over the Blackwater Rush. Signs of life grew scarce and left only a few small villages along the river, their brick and mortar chimneys emitting the smell of woodsmoke as you soared over them. You were sure that those who saw the speeding dragon were met with fright. The almost demonic-looking blackness absorbed all light briefly before they were again met with the comforting rays.

The Red Keep came into view through the horizon as you circled back, the tallest structure in King's Landing sitting atop Aegon's Hill. Cannibal descended over the high pale redstone buildings, his wings barely a meter away from the tiled roof of the Tower of the Hand. With a smirk, you hoped that Otto was in there, crouching behind the stacks of parchment on his desk.

Suddenly, a roar sounded in the air. Your head swiveled around your body, searching for the noise, but you couldn't find it. You assumed the sun blinded your vision, causing your brown orbs to burn with water. You dug your palms into your sockets, rubbing the sting away as you felt Cannibal ascend.

The screech boomed again, followed by the sound of the wings of a dragon. You turned, prepared for the bright golden glow of the beast's scales. Aegon sat snuggly on his saddle, whipping the reigns so Sunfyre would go faster. You groaned in annoyance at the drunkard prince, shaking your head and commanding Cannibal to lose them before you decided to land.

"Put that wastrel of a man in his place, Cannibal," you snarked. "I promise to allow you as many Dragonkeepers that can fit into your mouth if you do." You swore he nodded in response, beating his ebony wings harder against the wind.

The frigid air pricked your eyes like needles, ripping out more strands of hair as they scratched against the sides of your face. You were glad you chose a warmer riding outfit, for the sun's heat was overpowered by the biting cold that dried your skin.

Cannibal showcased his skills, creating a distance between you and Aegon faster than his dragon could blink. You led them back to the original path you took. The fabric awnings that covered merchant stands ripped from where they were nailed as you flew by, carts carrying fruits and vegetables toppling over as your two dragons raced above. Turning sharply above the slums of houses you once frequented, you went to the port of Blackwater Bay, even more, populated than the inner mouth.

Ships of all sizes resided there, not just merchants, each coming and going, creating a mess of coordinated chaos only shipmasters could understand. The sails were various colors, Houses, and some without indicating what they were. You weaved through them, Cannibal closing his wings as his momentum carried you between the small gaps.

While you expertly dodged each boat, proudly smiling at the men below, you heard a deafening thud and crack, turning to see the pink and golden body of Sunfyre ramming into the mast of an unsuspecting crew.

"Kelītīs," you ordered Cannibal, positioning him as you saw Aegon and his dragon plummet into the brackish waters.

Panic seized your heart, telling your beast to land on the stern of the nearest ship, nearly capsizing it. Without a second thought, you dove into the icy Bay, the briny and freshwater searing your lungs. You swam to the ship Aegon crashed into, moving the floating pieces of stalwart oak out of your way as you said a silent prayer. Sunfyre's head rose above the water, flailing like a drowning cat until he pulled himself onto the sea wall.

"Aegon!" you called out, hoping he would answer you.

You paddled further into the wreckage, yelling out his name again. He still didn't answer, and you feared the worst. The repercussions of the eldest Prince's death were not in your mind; you only wanted to save a drowning man whose death would be your fault.

You inhaled quickly, forcing your eyes to stay open as you dove under the murky water. You could only see a few meters before you, the thick wool of your outfit slowing your movements and making your muscles work twice as hard. Struggling to resurface, you were met with the hull of a ship, swiftly dunking yourself again to avoid being crushed. You sucked in another breath, coughing the contaminated liquid out of your lungs as you looked at Cannibal. You screamed at him to block more ships from passing, and he pushed off, breathing a line of fire to prevent them.

The hair that had come out obscured your vision as you went under again. Your prayers were answered as you spotted an opaque figure, your fingers yanking the floating fabric of the Prince's clothes. You kicked and kicked your legs, straining against everything, pulling you under as you carried Aegon's lifeless body to the surface.

Locking your arms underneath his, you positioned him on your torso, leaning back as you swam to the port wall. The mussels and barnacles dug into your thighs, bending against the stone for support as you heaved Aegon above your head.

He spread on his rear, splayed like the Seven-Pointed Star, his ankles still hanging over the ledge. You realized he must have ingested water; using the last bit of strength, you flipped him over, smacking his back to get rid of it. Aegon sputtered a cough, water, and mucus spewing out of his mouth. You rested your arms on the top of the stone wall, catching your breath as your head turned low. The ground shuddering interrupted your rest, the water around you rippling with vibrations.

Two dragons stood face to face. One of aureate and one of coal, shimmering in the iridescent glare like a prized jewel, the other an ember of carbon and darkness. A low growl rumbled inside the anthracite one's throat; legs bent to pounce and smoke rising from its nose. The golden one put up its defenses, mimicking the stance of the other.

"Lykirī," you said breathlessly, trying to pull yourself over the levy, arms shaking. Cannibal's eyes flickered over you, unwilling to leave himself and you defenseless. "Dohaerās," you demanded firmly as your dragon obeyed, flying into the air before Sunfyre could attack.

"Princess!" a voice yelled. The clink of armor rang in your ears before two hands hoisted you onto dry land, your shins scraping against the ground.

They rolled you onto your rear, looking down with great concern. "Aegon," you panted, pointing toward the groaning man. "The Prince..." Unable to articulate, you only gestured, your tired stems quivering as you attempted to explain what happened without words.

The Cargyll twins directed their attention to the crowned Prince, helping him upright as they assured he was well. You didn't discover you were shivering until the resounding vibrations of your teeth chattering echoed in your skull. Your mind focused solely on rescuing Aegon as the sopping outfit stuck to your skin, the frigid autumn climate chilling you to the bone. A dark shadow of a man blocked what little warmth you acquired from the sunlight, squinting to decipher who he was and why he was only staring.

Ser Criston Cole stood beyond your quivering form, blankly peering down from his nose. The reflection of his silver armor seared your eyes as you turned away. 

You couldn't speak. You couldn't think, concentrating on not being shocked by the freezing temperature. Abruptly a cloak was thrown, and you secured it around your form greedily, curling into a ball to conserve your heat as Ser Cole went over to the small group forming around Aegon.

You needed to get warm.

Why couldn't you get warm?

You hugged the wool blanket closer to your body, helpless to get what every nerve fiber was screaming at you to receive. Exhaustion washed over you, your eyelids gradually drooping.

Aegon is safe; you convinced yourself. There is nothing to worry about now.

You ultimately let the tiredness take control, shutting your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath, your finger loosening around the blanket.

"Princess," the faint title echoed beyond earshot. It sounded too far away, and you couldn't be bothered to reply.

"Princess," you heard softly again.

You couldn't understand why someone was calling for you. Everything was all right now. You could rest comfortably.

Your name was unexpectedly screamed, and you barely managed to pry your lids apart to see the terrified countenance of Ser Arryk Cargyll. You felt yourself lifted onto your shanks as they buckled, causing a surge of adrenaline to wake you partially as you griped the constituents that held you.

"She is soaking wet," you heard Arryk communicate before looking down at your blanched sallow fingers, holding them together with his palms. "Princess, please forgive me for what I plan to do. I must remove your clothes or risk you getting frostbite."

You still couldn't answer, a soft groan jostling in your nose as you felt your legs give out again, shutting your eyes. Intrusive digits began to unbutton your attire, your arms weakly pushing them away in protest. You didn't understand what was happening. One moment you were soaring high atop your dragon, and the next being forcefully undressed. Did Aegon have you again?

"No. Stop. Please," you begged, sluggishly swatting Ser Arryk.

"My Lady, I beseech you," he pleaded. "You will die otherwise."

You persisted, wiggling feebly in Arryk's hold as he stripped you down to your braes and breast binder. Tears of shame and powerlessness flowed down your cheeks, the salty trails warming the area briefly before chilling on the wind burnt skin.

The blanket wrapped around you again, the knight aiding you to his white horse. It didn't feel like you were there, seeing your figure in the surroundings from an outside perspective. Arryk tried putting you onto the saddle by himself, struggling as he couldn't lift the entirety of your limp body.

There were conversations that you could not hear as you leaned against his steely armor, your breathing becoming more difficult each second you stood. Another set of limbs came to assist, resting you on the front of the leather saddle, the pommel digging into your backside as you rested against the rider's chest.

The rhythmic swaying indicated that you had begun moving, hopefully to someplace where you could rest. Preferably scorching with a hearth the size of a solar and a fire blazing like the flames, Cannibal exhaled as you felt yourself fall into a deep slumber.

***

In your subconscious, you felt a tickle on your cheek, swatting it away as you drifted back to unconsciousness.

It happened again, this time a pull to your hair. You opened your heavy eyes, your vision blurry with sleep as you rubbed the afflicted area, turning over with an annoyed grunt. Then again, but now a pinch of your nose as you shot up, lunging into the person that so desperately wanted to disturb your rest.

"You," you spat, moving to get off the intruder.

"Me." Aegon smirked.

"Why are you here?" you interrogated, sliding off the bed to the roaring fire.

"I wanted to see how you were fairing. You gave us quite a fright," he admitted, gleaming smirk still on his pink lips.

Staring at him, you searched your mind, the memories returning in flashes. You, gliding over the streets of King's Landing. You pursued by a serpent of shimmering pink, orange, and gold. Aegon, falling into the dangerous murky waters of Blackwater Bay. He watched the recognition on your face, walking to your place by the hearth.

"And to extend my endless gratitude for saving my life." You scoffed, turning away from Aegon as he clasped his hands behind his back. "What is that now? Twice? I owe you," he admitted, sitting in a green armchair.

You released a huff, trying to distance yourself from Aegon as you went to the pot of tea in the center of the table. Pouring yourself a cup, you were pleased it was still tepid, with the taste of cinnamon and cloves warming your tongue. A bowl of stew rested next to it, the hazy memory of being huddled at the fireplace with thick fabric weighing on your icy bones as you sipped on the broth.

"You would have a debt if you thought twice about your actions," you cursed without thinking. "Do you ever think about how they affect other people? How they affect your wife, your mother... how they affect me?" Aegon's head lowered, his choppy blonde hair draping over his face as he fiddled with his fingers. "Look at me when I am speaking!" you yelled, storming over to where he sat.

"I am not going to lecture you as the Queen does, for you are well enough to know better. I want you to listen to me, hear my words." You kneeled before him, forcing Aegon's glassy eyes to meet your raging ones. "Your drinking and whoring wounds me deeply. You say that I am to put my trust within you, but then you lead two slaves into your bed, a place that we have shared. A place where I-" You choked on your words, a thick lump suddenly forming as you looked away.

You hadn't meant for this to become emotional. Your original intent was to have him whimpering at your feet and begging you to forgive him. The appeal of your sex was the key reason, but you were shaken. Watching in horror as Aegon fell into the Bay had scared you, truly and sincerely. It would've been partially on your hands, and his death, you realized, was not something you could stomach.

"We are allowed to have fun and forget our duty at times. I understand that our life is not what we would have chosen if given the choice, but we must take into account others. We do not have the freedom to forget people as others do with us. If we do then we become the ones who have hurt us, loosing our true selves."

Before you could continue, Aegon released a loud sob, slumping in the chair with his head in his palms. The sound was like an arrow to the heart, pricking your eyes with the intensity of it.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I have tried to be everything they wanted of me. To be the son my father dreamed of, to be a boy my mother could love," he cried, his shoulders shaking. "Why don't they love me? Why does no one love me? Am I truly such a monster?"

You inhaled a ragged breath, pursing your lips as you held back your tears. You could not bring yourself to give Aegon the assurance he needed. He was not a good man by any means. He participated in child fighting pits, gambled to the point of gluttony, and bedded women who were willing and those who were coerced. By certain standards, he was a monster, but not to you. You could see behind the heinous actions he committed was a boy who never learned what was right and wrong. A boy who was neglected and abused since he was born for reasons he could never control, tormented by the realization that he would never receive happiness.

Aegon was a drunkard, a slut, a craven, a wastrel, and a deadbeat, but he was no monster. You knew that to be true even when blinded by loathing, rage, and grief.

Your chin began to quiver, and your pulse began to race as you extended a hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. Aegon snapped his head up, his glimmery amethyst eyes glistening in an ocean of tears as you rested his palm against your cheek.

"You are broken, as am I, but we are no monsters." You placed a chaste kiss against his wrinkled skin, showing him your sincerity.

Aegon's lips trembled in his pout, so deeply moved by your words that he collapsed into you. You returned comfort, snaking your arms around him and smoothing his frizzy hair as he cried into the crook of your neck, wetting the fabric of your nightgown with his tears.

You stayed together like that until his sobs turned into hiccups, squeezing you tightly against him as he steadied his breathing. Even then, you did not let go, ridding him of his shoes and outer tunic as you led him to your bed. You were both drained, on a constant emotional overdrive that sucked the energy straight from your souls.

Settling onto the top sheet of your feather tick mattress, you held your arm to Aegon, signaling he could lay beside you. He crawled in like a child to a parent with a nightmare, seeking the comfort of their protective embrace. You let him lean his head on your chest, your back propped up against the collection of pillows at the headboard.

His index traced the curve of your knee, sending tingles up your leg and into your chest. It was intimate, an action one would make to their lover, but it didn't startle you. And the fact that it didn't give you that nauseating feeling in your stomach did not frighten you either. You allowed his digits to slide further up your leg, to your navel, sternum, and back down again. It caused gooseflesh to cover your arms, your nipples hardening with the rush.

Aegon's back settled on your plush thighs, your heart racing out of your chest as he stared with his cracked, shimmering amethyst eyes. He looked like a boy, younger than your brothers, and you knew exactly what broken boys like him needed.

Wordlessly you undid the front strings of your nightgown, letting gravity slide it down your prickled arms and revealing your breasts for him. A sudden heat rushed through your stomach and between your shanks as you saw his pupils dilate, nearly swallowing his irises. You inhaled deeply to settle yourself, endeavoring not to show your uncertainty about being in such a vulnerable situation.

"May I," Aegon paused, choking on his words and wetting his lips. "Can I touch them? Please?"

Your pulse stalled at the inadvertent confession of his nervousness, an almost maternal feeling coming over you as you brushed his curly locks behind his ear. "Yes, you may, dear prince," you mumbled.

The sensation of his fingers gently kneading one breast caused your toes to curl, sparks of satisfaction igniting in your core. You were not proud of letting him do this to you, surrendering one of your most sacred regions to a man known to defile them, but it felt so good. It simultaneously made you feel weak yet powerful, confusing your head and heart on right and wrong.

Aegon was silky in his touches, adding another hand to your neglected globe and leaning his countenance ever so close to them. You tried to hide your enjoyment in his efforts, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as the once saddened boy transformed into the mischievous Prince and brushed his finger over your nipple. You needn't look down to know there was a grin on his face, but you did. The water pooled in his sights was now gone, contentment in its place as he did the same thing to the other. You tipped your head back to hide from his observant gaze, knowing that if you continued watching, a moan would fall from your tongue and only feed his never ceasing ego.

His hold became harsher now, attempting to get a reaction out of you as you held firm. Aegon's index and thumb pinched your nipples, upping his antics. Still, you did not make a sound, but the bend of your knees and scrunching of your nose were winning enough for him, letting out a breathy chuckle as he continued to grope.

Aegon loved your tits. They fit perfectly into his hands as if the Gods made them with him in mind. He hated how you bound them. He believed that they should hang freely (preferably in his palms) without anything to step in the way of their full glory. He understood you did it to repress the sexuality of your body to the people of the court, wishing that by making yourself less palatable to the men and less of a competitor in looks to the women, you would be respected.

Aegon learned you would never admit such a thing to him, but he wasn't stupid. You made choices with careful calculation and a purpose; he just wished it didn't come in the form of repressing your body.

You were exquisite. The way your dark lashes batted against your cheeks, your midnight hair so long and thick that Aegon wished to blanket himself with it. People would constantly say that Targaryens are closer to Gods than men with white hair and purple eyes, but he didn't see it that way. His family rode dragons. That made them Gods, not the incestuous looks passed down from generation to generation in hopes of keeping their Valyrian blood pure.

You were just as gorgeous as the songs claimed Aegon the Conqueror's younger sister, Rhaenys was, but not in the supremacist ways his family judged. You appeared human, but a Goddess in your own right, not one that came with a name.

"I love your tits," Aegon complimented, lost in his mind as he rested his forehead on your sternum.

It felt natural to surrender to your desires, ignoring the racing thoughts that screamed at you to stop this. Your fingers rested on his meaty thigh, digging into the flesh as the Prince latched his mouth onto your nipple like a babe, swirling his tongue against the bud.

"Aegon!" you shouted in what was meant to protest but sounded more like a moan.

Your digits gripped his blonde hair, not pushing or pulling but giving you the faux action of control. You felt the vibrations of his breathy grunts through your ribcage, causing you to rub your legs together in desperation as he sucked brutally.

"Oh. Aegon, please," you whimpered, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or keep going as you arched your back.

Wave after of pleasure rippled through your breasts and straight to your core, feeling uncomfortably wet as he moved his mouth to the other. A dull pain sensation rippled through your free tit as Aegon slapped it, soothing the skin with his touch before doing it again. You could feel his hips moving into the air, seeking the same ecstasy he was giving you.

Without thought, you found yourself unlacing his breeches, your trembling hands searching for what hid there. You pulled his throbbing cock free, seeing it for the first time and noticing the pearlescent liquid leaking from the rudy tip. He barely fit inside your hand, only your middle finger and thumb touching as you swiped the essence from his silt, dragging it down over a tiny ridge and veins.

Aegon's hips bucked at your touch, biting harshly against your abused nipple. You squeezed his shaft in response, throwing your head back momentarily as you began to move. You raised your hand in almost a spinning way, gently tightening around his cockhead before sliding down again, repeating it over and over.

"Gods. You're so fucking perfect. Your tits are so fucking perfect. They would feed babes well," Aegon mumbled against the plump skin of your breast, moving to the other one. You couldn't conceal the brief shock at his vulgar, coarse, and heady words, making you lose your breath as you sped up your ministrations.

The eldest Prince continued thrusting into your fist, aiding you as hot air from his nose dampened your chest. "So good. So fucking good, little one," he rambled into your flesh. "You're so good to me, my pretty girl-my good girl. You know what I need."

His words temporarily stole you from your trance, trying to conceal it with the tightening of your fist. Suddenly, the real reason you initiated this came to mind. It was just another step in securing the throne for your mother. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps it was just nonsense spouted during the heat of the moment, but it was still said. It was what Aegon felt, even if it was because your hand was pumping his manhood. A smirk rose to your lips in victory, leaning over to slide a glob of spittle onto him to help aid in his pleasure.

"I do, Aegon. I know what my sweet prince needs," you confessed into his hair, using your free arm to push him further into your chest. "My sweet Prince needs to come for his pretty girl. I want to feel your seed dripping on my flesh." You placed a chaste kiss on the crown of his head, yanking the ends of his damp hair so he could look into your eyes, deepening the act of your siphoning hand.

"Be a good boy, and let go for your little girl. I know you want to."

Aegon nodded aggressively, his lips parting as he panted. His thrusts became twitches until you felt him go entirely still, mouth agape, as he released the loudest, most lecherous groan you had ever heard, his thighs trembling. You felt the warm ropes of his spend on your still-moving fist, his cock spasming as it aided your pumps.

You soothed him through the aftershocks of his little death, kissing the salty tears that ran down his cheeks from the intensity of it. You sang praises in Aegon's ear as he clutched onto your body for dear life, attempting to ground himself. You were unsure of what else to say as a sense of triumph washed over you, the doubts you had from days prior only a distant memory.

This would be easier than you thought. You didn't have to let him do things to your body. If you kept his prick busy, you could leave Aegon completely satisfied and smitten without concern.

Instead of speaking and letting your thoughts escape you, you gave the buzzed Prince a peck on the nose, sliding out from under him to find a rag as you cleaned him and your hand. You opened the covers for Aegon after you were finished, seemingly a simple offer for him to stay, but you knew the truth. A smile curled on your lips as you watched him crawl under the sheets, his breathing still faster than normal from his climax. You felt like the cat who finally captured the canary.

You scooted closer to him, wedging your arm under Aegon's neck as you directed him to lie on your chest. You kept the strings of your gown untyed, allowing him free access whenever he wanted. Almost instinctively, he took it, cupping the curve of your breast in his hand as he settled. You felt him swipe self-soothing movements over your nipple for it to become hard again, blowing cool air to keep it that way.

"Will you sing to me?" Aegon suddenly asked, catching you unaware.

"I apologize, but I do not think my singing would be the last thing you want to hear before sleep," you lightly teased. "I am no siren."

You felt him smile against you, moving even closer into your body. "'Tis alright. Your mere presence is enough to lull me."

You lay there in silence, a war raging between your heart and your head. There wouldn't be any harm in singing. If it were what Aegon wanted, then you would do it. After all, it was just another stepping stone toward your goal.

"When you call to me asleep up the ragged cliffs, I scramble. A single thread hangs limply down, and I breathe, 'Not now, not now.' And I find you all unwoven, trying desperately to sew. I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone," you started, feeling Aegon's eyes widen against you.

"When your seams have come unknitted, and you cry out to the sky, I've run out of my words; my song just let me die, me die. The rockrose and the thistle will whistle as you moan. I could try to calm you down, but I know you won't." 

The Prince's rubbing of your body gradually ceased, drifting off into a much-needed rest as you continued to sing the only melody that came to mind. 

"All the pins inside your fretted head and your muttered whens and hows, all your mother's weaves and your father's threads. Let me rob them of you now. Because I'll darn you back together when you think that you're bereft, and you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop because it's all that I have left." 

You felt your breathing hitch, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed.

"I wake and hear you calling, and up those cliffs, I climb, and I find you with a thimble weeping, 'May I?' I ask, 'May I?' And you gently gift it to me because you've no clue how to sew, and I know the kindest thing. I pray to god it's the kindest thing... I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

Masterlist of Series

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How about that exciting chapter? What do y'all think about that?! The song I included at the end is by The Amazing Devil titled The Rockrose and the Thistle and is sung mainly by Joey Batey, who you might know as the bard, aka Jaskier, in The Witcher Netflix series. Please take a listen to it if you have the time to support them!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I enjoyed writing it!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06, @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe

[sea-creature-things]

Grimwalker Things

Chapter 1: Fangs

Alternative title: all the times Hunter could've told his friends he's a Grimwalker and then didn't.

Hi! I'm starting my first multi-chapter fanfic. It's basically a collection of Grimwalker headcanons. The stories take place in the human realm, in the time skip of Thanks to Them. The chapters are loosely connected and (mostly) wholesome. This first one is definitely light-hearted! :)

You can read here under the cut or on AO3. Link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53015821/chapters/134123059

It's been only two weeks since the witches crash landed in the human realm. Luz had led them towards her house in the pouring rain, which didn't hurt them... It was a strange sensation. The human realm by itself was very strange. Willow had not expected that they would adapt so quickly.

Luz's mom had opened the door, getting the scare of her life. Her daughter had finally come home, but she was covered in wounds and bruises. On top of that, she'd bring 4 witches with her in the same condition. But Camila is a saint, she welcomed everyone into her home.

That night, Luz had introduced them to a basilisk named Vee. She had sought out refuge, just like them, months earlier. Then Camila and Vee had helped them patch up. They had explained everything that happened. But if she were honest, Willow had felt incredibly numb that night. She couldn't do much, Amity had been a much bigger help. Being able to explain most things very calmly.

Luz was assisting her, knowing exactly what her mom wouldn't understand. Hunter had been completely focused on Gus, sometimes looking around the room suspiciously. Willow remembered he looked smaller than normal, Gus too. His experience of the human realm was tainted, the one thing he had dreamed off for years was ruined. It was a horrible night, but at least now they were safe, warm and healthy. Well, getting there at least.

However, to Willow's personal surprise, they all got used to their new living arrangements very quickly. At the end of the first week, they had already established a routine. They had learned all sorts of human things. They even had a few fun outings. (Mainly to the grocery store, which Gus was over the moon about.) Hopes were high.

They also worked on a way back home. They were planning to get the portal door working again. Somehow. But before that they would have to clean the old house a bit. Fix it up. Though, they mainly tried to distract themselves.

One thing the squad did to keep their spirits up, was play games. Gus had even come up with one himself: Whoever made Hunter laugh would win. What would they win? Nothing really, the sound itself was prize enough.

Willow and Gus had noticed how he rarely ever laughed. The first time they heard his genuine laugh was 6 days into their stay. The sound was amazing and contagious. So, the Emerald duo made it their mission to hear it again.

Dark humor seemed to do surprisingly well. But so did puns, which wasn’t surprising at all. Flapjack was the current record holder, but he's totally cheating.

Through this game Willow realise something. Hunter would always cover his mouth when laughing. Then she noticed he'd do the same thing when he yawned. It was kind of cute, in a weird way. She thought he must just be insecure about his tooth gap.

One morning Hunter sat down in the living room where everyone else had already gathered. The morning-people were watching tv, while the not-morning-people were grumpily trying to wake up.

He spotted Willow on the couch, so he sat down next to her. She was one of the grumpy ones. Sprawled out lazily, her feet far away, her arms slack and her spine looking miserable. Hunter didn't want to say anything about posture though. Not again.

It was Sunday. Miss Camila didn't have to work, so she slept in. Breakfast would be approximately an hour and a half later than normal. But Hunter still woke up at six.

He told the others it was just habits. Which was technically true, but he really wanted to do chores while everyone else was sleeping. That way he wouldn't have to 'have a talk' about it.

This morning, he had tidied the living room, swept the floors, cleaned the downstairs bathroom, and set the table. Breakfast was still half an hour away. The other kids had slowly been waking up and trickled into the living room. Hunter then made coffee before joining them.

He put his coffee mug down on the little table in front. Avoiding Vee who was sprawled out, similarly to Willow, next to (and over) the table. She was also one of the grumpy ones. Gus was in front of the table, looking at the tv with wide eyes. Absentmindedly trying to find the straw of his orange juice with his tongue, and failing.

"Morning." Willow's drowsy voice came from beside him. She lazily turned towards him and smiled sweetly, closing her eyes like she would fall asleep again.

"Good morning." Hunter said a lot more cheery. He couldn't help but smile at her antics. He felt his cheeks getting hot, which had become a regular occurrence lately. It was very strange for him.

"You're a big fan of coffee huh?" Willow said with a tired smile. Trying to come up with a pun to make him laugh. But she couldn't thing of anything, it was too early! So, Flapjack would retain his leaderboard position. For now.

“Yup! I love me some dirty bean water in the morning.” Hunter grinned with an eye on Luz, who was cuddled up with Amity on the big chair. Both of them were morning people, but still slow and tired.

Luz cringed loudly at his sentence, like he had hoped, and Hunter smile grew even wide.

"Ugh! Whyyyyy!" She whined.

“HA!” He laughed like this was his personal victory. Some of that Golden Guard snarkiness shining through.

Willow noticed something in that moment. His mouth was wide open and his tooth gap was in full display, but there was something else…

His incisors were sharp. Like really sharp. Like really, really sharp. Like Eda-sharp.

“Whoa! Hunter, do you have fangs?”

Gus spit out his orange juice. Hunter immediately covered his mouth and looked at Willow bewildered.

“No.” His voice was muffled.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Amity was now wide awake, trying to look into his mouth from where she sat.

“What?! Let me see!” Luz raced over to the couch.

“No! I don’t have-“

“Come on~ show them to us!” Willow was now extremely close to his face. He tried to back away but Luz was on the other side.

“Y-Yeah Hunter, show us!” Gus looked just as excited, but his voice wasn’t like the others. There was a trace of… something in there. Whatever it was didn't stop him from joining Luz's side.

“Fang twinsies!!” Vee gasped loudly. She had apparently also woken up, turning around as fast as demon-ly possible.

Suddenly Hunter was surrounded by everyone trying to look into his mouth. It all happened so fast, it felt like switch had flipped. Everyone was wide awake now, the room was full of energy. He was stammering and trying to find anywhere to focus on. But everywhere were eyes, and expecting smiles. He blinked rapidly and felt his breathing getting a little irregular.

“I don’t have fangs!!” He yelled and jumped over the back of the couch. Running to the basement. He felt incredibly embarrassed. His face probably reflected that too, looking like a blond tomato. All he wanted to do was run and hide.

Upstairs all the kids saw their oldest run for his life. Wide eyes and gaping mouths. Most of them too stunned to speak.

"He totally has fangs." Amity smirks.

"Amity!" Willow slaps her shoulder lightly. Guilt was already clawing at her heart.

"What?" The pink haired witch didn't seem to understand it yet. "You're the one who brought it up."

Willow pouted. This was not helping her rising feelings. Gus patted her head, he understood. Luz did the same with Amity to calm her down. It worked like a charm, it always did.

"I think we messed up there." Luz laughed nervously. Willow nodded, looking at the hallway.

"Yeah... we kinda swarmed him." Vee said with the same expression. "I mean, he jumped over the couch."

"Oh..." It finally clicked in Amity's head. "Right. You're right. We should go apologise."

"Or at least check up on him first?" Gus offered. "Should we all go?"

"I'll go." Luz said as she stood up. "He's probably fine, we just embarrassed him."

The room filled with a few 'yeah's and 'totally's as she walked out. Vee began to joke with Amity about the incredible leap they witnessed. Gus assured Willow the whole thing wasn't that bad.

"So... what did they look like?"

"Gus!"

"I didn't get to see 'em!"

Luz descended the stairs. She found Hunter sitting crosslegged on his makeshift bed. He was holding Flapjack on one hand and scratching him under the chin with the other. The bird and his owner were laughing and cooing at each other. The little palisman had clearly calmed him down successfully.

"Hey buddy." Luz called out when she got to the bottom of the stairs. He didn't startle, so she figured he'd already heard her come down. Hunter didn't turn towards her though.

"Hey..." He kept his attention on Flap. His ears turning a soft pink again.

"We kinda overwhelmed you there, huh?" She asked coming closer to him. This time he turned his head to her direction and nodded. Maybe he was still a little affected.

"I'm sorry about that." She offered. "We all are."

"No, no, it's okay!" Hunter finally said. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Luz sat down next to him, hugging her knees. The human gave Flapjack some scritches too. "Why are you sorry?"

Hunter didn't say anything for a while. He just looked around the room for a bit. And continued to pet Flap, who then chirped at him.

"I don't know." He admitted softly.

"Is it a Grimwalker thing?" Luz whispered. She was just as paranoid as Hunter that someone would somehow hear them, anytime they talked about it.

"Probably." Hunter sighed. Luz bumped her shoulder against his and he returned the gesture with a smile.

He really didn't want to talk about this, but he had no choice right now. Flapjack chirped some soft reassurance. He hopped from his hands to Luz's knee, cuddling against her face. Then he settled in his witch's hair.

"Can you help me with a story for the others?" Hunter asked her. Luz looked at him surprised, then became excited. That was a rare sight lately.

"Of course!" She sprang up. "What if, after years of gruelling training, your teeth adapted to an aggressive lifestyle?"

"Uh-"

"OR, or! What if, you sharpened them to make yourself look more menacing?" She held her hands like claws in front of her. Hunter laughed and stood up next to her.

"I was thinking something a little simpler?"

"Oh..." Luz smiled awkwardly. "They can't be fake, you can't take them out."

"Mmmh." Hunter ruffled her hair. "Got any more creative ideas?"

"Ah stop that!" Luz swatted at his hands. He could even see a little sparkle in her eyes now. "Okay. What if, you have them instead of a bilesac?"

Hunter tilted his head at her, encouraging her to continue.

"Like, you don't have organic magic, but you do have other traits. Like fangs!" she said it like it was an amazing accomplishment.

"That could work... maybe." Hunter held his chin and thought about it.

"Yeah! And-"

"Kids! Breakfast is ready!" Camila's voice came from the top of the stairs.

"We're coming mom!" Luz shouted back. Completely forgetting the sentence she was just about to say.

"We'll just have to go with it." Hunter looked at her worried. She touched his shoulder with a sweet smile.

"Don't worry Hunter." She said reassuringly. "It'll be okay."

Hunter sighed, throwing the tension from his shoulders. He ruffled her hair again. Then she barrelled into him for a hug. It felt weird at first, he still wasn't used to this. But he soon relaxed and it actually felt rather nice. Luz squeezed tight before letting go, and let him towards the kitchen with Flap flying in between them.

The duo stood in the doorway and everyone turned to them. The room was filled with apprehension and awkwardness.

"What happened?" Camila looked between them. Vee and the witches had helped her make a big Sunday breakfast. With waffles, eggs and a tiny bit of bacon. Yes, it was more expensive then simple toast, but this was important to her. And to these poor kids.

Luz slapped Hunter's back hard. The tension that had climbed back onto his shoulders fell off again.

"We overwhelmed Hunter a little, but he's okay." She said cheery.

The room relaxed, relief on everyone's face.

Luz walked over to her mom to help her with the last waffles. Explaining everything in whispers.

Hunter followed a few steps so he'd be insides the kitchen. Gus bounced to him and they did their secret handshake. It was his way of checking if his buddy was actually okay. Gus lit up afterwards. Then he punched him awkwardly in the shoulder.

"Sorry for swarming you back there."

Amity, Vee and Willow chimed in with 'yeah's and 'sorry's of their own.

"Nah it's okay." Hunter punched him the same way back. "I was just a little embarrassed about the... well, t-the uh... you know."

He gestured to his mouth, blushing a little. He refused to say fangs.

"Can I see them?" Gus pumped his fists, looking up with stars in his eyes.

"I wanna see them too!" Vee climbed over the kitchen island and joined Gus's side with the same pose.

"Wait wait wait! Me too!" Luz ran over to make the duo a trio.

Hunter looked at each of their excited faces bewildered. He couldn't believe this. Amity sighed with her hand pinching between her eyes. Willow shook her head, looking amused.

"They don't learn, do they?" She whispered to her friend.

Hunter wasn't completely surrounded, so the urge to escape was less strong. But still!

"Pleeeeaaaase?" The trio pleaded. Three sets of puppy-eyes staring at him.

Hunter looked at the girls for help. But he was met with smirks. He would not be rescued today. He sighed and scrunched his nose. Looked down at their stupid little faces one more time. Then pulled his upper lip in a way that they could see his teeth.

Luz and Gus squealed. Making his embarrassment ten times worse.

"Fang twinsies!" Vee gasped again.

"They're not fangs." He muttered stubbornly.

"Alright kids, settle down." Camila called, secretly also curious about theses supposed fangs. "Breakfast is served."

Hunter couldn't be more grateful about the save. And the table full of delicious food. They all quickly took their seats and happily devoured everything.

Breakfast was peaceful and fun. Afterwards Amity raised her hand.

"Can I ask now?"

"Sure." Hunter sighed

"Why do you have fangs?" Everyone was curious, but Amity was a girl who needed answers. Hunter appreciated that about her... most of the time.

He looked at Luz for support, who gave him discrete thumbs up. But now all eyes were on him and he's never been good at lying.

"It-it's because um... I'm only half a witch." He laughed awkwardly. "Can't draw spell circles, but I get sharp teeth!"

"Don't call yourself that." Willow scrunched her nose.

"Ah no. I didn't mean it like that, I'm just..." Hunter pleaded inwardly with the Titan to make him better at improv. "I'm different in those things. Just those two things."

Luz tried not to facepalm. Hunter wasn't doing great. Vee looked at her sister knowingly, who sent her a begging look. Discretely of course.

"That makes sense." The little basilisk offered, like a guardian angel. She was way better at lying.

"Yeah, it's very interesting." Amity looked convinced.

"Don't worry bro." Gus patted his shoulder. "We love you just the way you are."

"Uh thanks." Hunter laughed awkwardly again. Finally able to breath once more.

"Just don't call yourself that again." Willow said, her voice sweet but threatening. Hunter nodded fiercely.

"Yes. I mean no! Um, I promise."

A few mornings later when Hunter entered the kitchen, Luz ran over.

“Show me them fangs!”

Hunter looked away, not really wanting to comply. It was just them and Camila. The rest wasn't awake yet, but they'd be here soon.

“Show. Me. Them. Fangs!”

Luz punched his stomach with every word. Not hard or anything, it felt more like tickling. Hunter was glad that she seemed to love his teeth so much. But he refused to admit he had fangs. It made him feel weird.

“Come on! Please!!”

Apparently fangs were a big deal to her. Willow seemed to be impressed with them as well, Amity didn't really care and Vee was happy. Gus was just happy he had something to tease him about.

Hunter was glad that the gang hadn’t asked too many questions. They'd accepted his lame excuse very easily.

“Fiiiiiine.” He sighed, raised his upper lip and opened his mouth.

“Yehes!”

He was never living this down.

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Hi! Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun planning and writing this. I want to post the second chapter on Friday next week. It's about the very popular Grimwalker headcanon surrounding Palisman. I'm very excited :))