#topic: forbidden knowledge

[haravatat-slime]

You mentioned "emotions as matter" earlier, does that tie into music universalis or even the divine possession of creating music? Or is that something else?

I did in fact say something about "emotions as matter," but now I think it would be more accurate to say "emotions as energy that can in turn affect matter." Even in Teyvat, emotions aren't something that can be physically held. (Unless you have a vessel for them. Like. I don't know. A little. Glass thingy.)

I don't have any strong evidence for this yet, but since 1) all elemental energy flows through Irminsul and can therefore be influenced by music, 2) the soul is influenced by music and 3) the soul can take the shape of elemental energy, it seems to me that those things that reside within the soul (feelings!) can also be manipulated via music and energy.

And - this is the thing I've really wanted to talk about regarding emotions - I don't believe this is exclusive to the current Seven elements of Teyvat.

We've known for a very long time that Forbidden Knowledge is influenced by the emotional state of the creature in contact with it. When we first fight Dvalin all the way back in the Prologue, the Tainted Blood that we remove from him is a combination of

The foul blood he once ingested, the lies whispered from the Abyss, and the anguish of abandonment (emphasis mine)

In the Chasm, enemies that come into contact with Dark Mud (a liquid form of Forbidden Knowledge) become more aggressive.

Xiao, and by extension the other yaksha, have absorbed so much Forbidden Knowledge in the form of "karma" that it pains them physically and emotionally, and is capable of causing psychosis in non-Vision-bearers who stay too close to them. (In fact, the "Remedium Tertorium" Zhongli gives us in his voice-line to give to Xiao is, in traditional Chinese medicine, an antidepressant.)

In Inazuma, the Crystal Marrow (visually very similar to Dvalin's Tainted Blood) exists as a solidified combination of Forbidden Knowledge and Orobashi's "will" (Tatarigami). When the overproduction of Crystal Marrow caused Tatarasuna to melt down, a human heart was required to absorb the Forbidden Knowledge - wielded by someone without one, so that he could exit unscathed.

This same someone who encourages us to "embrace our anger" while standing in a Delusion factory filled with Forbidden Knowledge.

Then, if we cut to Sumeru, our good friend Zandik has done a little extra footwork by discovering that Eleazar (a manifestation of Forbidden Knowledge in humans) is correlated with high levels of "elemental energy" within the body.

So if elemental energy and Forbidden Knowledge are both associated with emotions, it would make sense that their levels would be proportional to one another - the higher one's emotional sensitivity, the higher their sensitivity to Forbidden Knowledge, and vice versa.

We know through Nahida's Story Quest that Forbidden Knowledge exists because Nibelung (King of All Dragons) obtained it from outside of Teyvat's borders. We also know that he would not have gone searching for it if not for the rage he felt at having his homeland colonized by featherless bipeds, What we don't know is what form the Forbidden Knowledge had when he first obtained it - or, if its true form is in fact "knowledge," what that knowledge is of.

So maybe I take back what I originally said. Maybe if the mere concept of knowledge can have a goopy, weirdly colored liquid form that is visible to the naked eye, emotions can too.

[darabeatha]

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 | 𝐴𝑆𝐶𝐿𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑈𝑆, 𝐺𝑂𝐷 𝑂𝐹 𝑀𝐸𝐷𝐼𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐸 .

ㅤㅤ❝ Medicine, like all things, requires moderation. It is but the careful unification of opposites- to balance the fragility of life and the decisiveness of death. To measure correctly, to judge, to estimate, to consider all posibilities. With excess, any remedy can turn into poison, Do you understand? That is of course, for those that fear death. For me, that delicate and precise balance between life and death... That is what fascinates me. I'll breach that space. The true resurrection medication that violated the laws and realm of Hades and angered Zeus.. One day I'll recreate it. ❞

[snowyslytherinowl]

A Love Paid in Galleons - Part 1

PAIRING: Severus Snape x Reader

SUMMARY: Knowing that no one would ever want him, Severus hires a prostitute to help him lose his virginity. But what he doesn't anticipate is that he'll give his heart to her as well.

Part 2 here

I hate to say this but if we’re speaking canonically, I believe that Snape either died a virgin or lost his virginity to a prostitute. I wanted to write something on the latter topic with some cuteness.  This also has been interesting for me to write since I haven’t written smut in a long time and never really wrote smut like this. I hope y’all still enjoy this though!

18+ DUE TO SEXUAL CONTENT; MINORS DNI!

Severus wouldn’t dare to do this at Hogwarts. For one thing, inviting someone like this within the castle walls would surely be strictly forbidden. But most importantly, he wouldn’t be able to bear the embarrassment if knowledge of his actions circulated the school. His head pounded at the thought of the incessant teasing by the students, or even worse, by Minerva and Dumbledore. 

Earlier that day, he covered his head with a black hood and ventured into Knockturn Alley. The only place of its kind could be found at the very end of the alley, tucked away in a corner lit only by a flickering lantern. Severus handed his galleons to the madam, paying extra to reserve a pretty one for the entire night. His blood ran cold as he gave her his address and a fake name, not processing that he was actually going through with this. But he felt that it was only right to reserve the prostitute for the entire night; at least after she had sex with a disgusting man like him, she could leave and be free from company for the rest of the night. 

Even now, hidden away in the privacy of his home at Spinner's End, he doesn’t know what to do now that he has dared. He showers and roughly scrubs his hair, ridding it of all its grease. He tidies up the sitting room, repairs all the cracks in the walls, cleans his dirty dishes, puts every dish in the cupboard, and removes the nightmare-inducing jars from his study. He decides that they would do it inside his study, rather than his bedroom. He’s embarrassed by the holes in the sheets and the mismatching pillowcase and comforter. Even then, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the upcoming encounter every night and subsequently wrap his arms around his body, attempting to ease the feelings of loneliness.

The clock rings, signifying a new hour. It’s ten o’clock; she should be here any second now. And then there’s a knock on his front door. Severus jumps in his seat and slowly makes his way to the door, his hands shaking and his heart pounding. 

The woman on the other side of the door takes his breath away. He doesn’t think he’s seen a woman as beautiful as you. Smooth skin, luscious hair, full lips painted a deep red. Even your eyes are bright and welcoming as you smile at Severus. His heart pounds even faster as his eyes rake over the short green dress tightly hugging your body. “Hi,” you greet in a sweet voice.

“Hello,” Severus says quietly. He stares at you as though he’s stupified, completely mesmerized by your beauty. How could he ever rip his eyes away from a woman like this?

You blush and bite your lower lip. “May I come in?” you ask shyly.

“Oh. Yes,” Severus mutters, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He steps aside and allows you to enter. You walk to the middle of the sitting room and look around. He fidgets with his fingers at the thought that you might be judging the simplicity of his house. 

But it doesn’t seem like those kinds of thoughts are on your mind. You spin around and look at him with the most alluring gaze a woman has ever looked at him with. His breath catches in his throat and he stands frozen once more. You inch closer to him, that sweet smile still playing on your lips, until you stand directly in front of him. “What would you like me to do, sir?” you ask in a low voice. 

“I… er… I…” Severus’s heart beats so fast that he can’t breathe, let alone speak. His face becomes even more red. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t form a single coherent sentence. He gulps as you continue to look up at him, awaiting his response. “Er… anything you wish to do. And you do not need to call me sir.”

You laugh the sweetest laugh he’s ever heard. A laugh more powerful than a siren’s call, a laugh that could make any man weak in the knees. You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “How about we get out of the sitting room so I can show you what I have in mind?” 

You take his hand in yours and gently squeeze it. Severus fights the urge to run his thumb over your smaller hand, a perfect match nestled within his grasp. He leads you up the stairs on shaky legs and pushes open the door on the right. 

Like the sitting room, the study is unassuming. Shelves full of books filed in alphabetical order line the wall on the right. On the left, there are cabinets holding jars of potion ingredients. There are no framed photos or personal effects. He flips the light switch on, the dingy overhead light beginning to glow. But since the light flickers unreliably, he chooses to light the candles on his desk instead. Perhaps it’ll even give this situation a romantic feel, even if there is no romance involved. 

You walk to the bookshelves and run a finger over several of the titles. Your eyes light with genuine curiosity as you inspect his room. No one has ever been interested in anything he owns. “What do you work as?” 

“Oh…. er… I… I do…” Severus stammers again, still hesitant to tell you for fear of exposure. He awkwardly stands at the doorframe, hoping you’ll catch on.

You seem to sense his discomfort and smile reassuringly at him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

You stand directly in front of him once again and take his hand. You place your intertwined hands on his chest and stare up at him. “Do you want me to show you what I have planned?” you ask in a low voice. The combination of you smiling at him, looking up at him like you actually want him, and speaking in a sultry voice is too much for him. His eyes dip down to your lips but quickly looks away before he can give in to the urge to kiss you. 

“Er… that would… er…” he mutters. You brush a strand of his hair behind his ear with your free hand, sending his heart into a tizzy. 

“Are you nervous?” you ask. Severus nods very slightly in response, so you follow with, “Will this be your first time?”

Ashamed, Severus’s eyes sink to the ground and he remains silent. The reason why he solicited a prostitute is because he wants to lose his virginity. Is it so wrong for him to yearn for the touch of a woman, want to feel wanted, even if that want is all a superficial act? He knows no woman would ever want to sleep with him. No woman has ever looked at him, approached him, or complimented him. If anything, they would be repulsed by him. With his greasy hair and sallow skin, he can’t blame them. And what would you say if he told you that he, a man in his thirties, was a virgin? He knows you’ll think that he’s a pathetic, lonely slug because that is exactly what he is. 

With your pointer finger, you tilt his head so he’s looking into your eyes. You smile at him and reassure, “Hey, there’s nothing to be ashamed of if it is. I’ve never been anyone’s first, but I promise to make this special for you.”

He frowns and his hands start to shake. Blinking rapidly, he tries his best to hold back the tears that are threatening to form in his eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. The only possible answer is that you’re paid to be here. Otherwise, you would have screamed and apparated away the second he opened his front door. 

“Why do you think that?” With a gentle touch, you caress his cheek to relax him. Severus sighs again, still not able to understand or accept your kind touch. “I think you’re very handsome,” you say in a tone that sounds genuine. 

Butterflies flutter in his stomach. No woman has told him that before. Or maybe you’re just saying that to be kind? “You really think so?”

“Of course. If anything, I’m surprised that no woman has snatched you up yet,” you say with another one of your beautiful laughs. 

He can’t stop his lips from pulling upward into a smile. Now all he can think about is kissing your soft, plush lips. 

“May I… may I kiss you?” he mutters, his cheeks reddening.  

“Yes,” you say and get on your tippy-toes. Severus bends his head down and tenderly presses his lips against yours. 

The moment his lips touch yours, shockwaves run throughout his entire body and his head spins. All thoughts drift into oblivion. All he can think about are your kind words, your gentle touch, your ethereal beauty, your enchanting smell, you. He wants to stay here in this exact position, kissing you forever. 

He lets go of your hand and then wraps it around your back, pressing his chest against yours. When you moan into his lips, Severus cups your face with his other hand. He kisses you deeper and rougher, as though he’s a dying man and your kisses are the only things that can save him. 

Severus is hurt when you pull away until he notices that your cheeks are now a deep crimson. He begins to panic at the thought that he hurt you by not restraining himself well enough. But then you take in a deep breath and laugh. “Sorry, I had to take a breather.”

He stares at his feet like a schoolboy caught doing something he shouldn’t have, yet this embarrassment feels amazing. “No, I apologize that I got carried away,” he mutters. 

You smirk at him. “No, no. Silas, I think you deserve a reward for how excellent of a kisser you are,” you say seductively. 

A shiver ran through his body at your words. As you inch closer to the desk chair, Severus stops you. He feels wrong continuing this night with you without telling you his real name. He’s willing to throw caution to the wind with you; he has a feeling you’d keep his identity a secret. “Actually, my real name is Severus.”

“Ok then, Severus. How about you sit down?” You grab his hand and then gently push him. He flops onto the desk chair and stares up at you with wide eyes. 

You lean down and press wet kisses on his cheek. You unbutton the top part of his coat and continue your trail of kisses down his neck. Severus freezes as he feels blood rush to the lower parts of his body. He doesn’t want you to notice the growing bulge in his pants, and neither does he know where to put his hands. He sits stiffly on the desk chair, his fingers tightly gripping the armrest. 

Instead of continuing to unbutton his coat, your hands trail down to his trousers. His breath catches in his throat as you drop to your knees and unbuckle his belt. With swift fingers, you undo his belt, and then his button trousers, and then pull the trousers down to his knees. 

Severus jumps in his seat when you run a hand over his clothed cock. If he had any intentions to hide his bulge earlier, well, his secret is out now. He takes a deep breath and stares down at you with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. With the mischievous expression you’re looking up at him with and the way you’re slowly palming his clothed cock, Severus thinks he might pass out. 

Severus holds back a moan when you apply more pressure with your palm, and you smirk as you notice how tense he is. You slowly shimmy down his boxers and reveal his large, hard cock. Severus stares at the ceiling, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. How pathetic he must be to get this hard at only a few touches. 

“Severus, look at me.” Your voice is gentle, but the firmness of your command is there. Severus forces his eyes to move from the ceiling to you. 

Below him is an absolute sight to behold. His hard, thick cock is leaking precum from the tip. Embarrassment burns through him, but he can’t stop staring at how you’re looking at him. Your hands rest on the chair cushion, just touching his thighs. And Merlin, you’re staring at his cock like you want to devour it. 

“Do you want me to touch you, handsome?” you purr. Your hands slither onto his thighs and massage his skin there. He nods a little too eagerly and you chuckle. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” You run your hands up his body and rest on the bottom of his torso. “Here?” He only whimpers in response and moves his legs, trying to shift your hands where he needs them most. You smirk and click your tongue in disapproval. 

“Is here better?” You shift your hands to his hips, your fingers ghosting around his cock. He whines pathetically and looks down at you, silently begging you to just touch him already. 

“Use your words, Severus,” you gently command. As an extra tease, you skim one finger down the length of his cock. 

“My cock, please,” he begs you. If anything, he would spend the rest of his life begging him to touch you. Even if you got up and left, this would still be the best moment of his life. 

You finally wrap your hands around his cock and swipe a thumb over his slit, smearing precum up and down his cock. Severus lets out a needy mewl as you pump your fist up and down his manhood, his apprehension at making noises melting away. Every so often, he’d touch himself in the shower and eventually bring himself to orgasm, his feelings of shame washing away any feelings of pleasure. But masturbating never prepared him for this. Your expert touch feels better than any form of self-induced pleasure. 

Severus gasps loudly when he feels you peppering kisses down the length of his cock. You go even further downward and massage his balls with your tongue. When he was a teenager, his dormmates told stories of their sexual encounters right in front of him, knowing he would never have a need for their knowledge. He rarely listened to them either; the feelings of loneliness that arose would be too painful. During the few times he listened, he remembers how his dormmates raved about how amazing blowjobs felt. Merlin almighty were they right, and you had only just begun. 

Locking eyes with him, you lick his tip and then wrap your lips fully around his shaft. Severus enters a state of euphoria as you simultaneously wrap your fist around the base of his cock and rotate your hand around him. After several moments, you pull your hands back so you can take more of him into your mouth. Severus groans and unintentionally juts his hips up at the intense sensation, but then his mind floods with shame as he hears you gag. “Sorry. I am so, so sorry,” he apologizes profusely. He stiffens in his seat and watches your every move, afraid that he might have hurt you. 

You don’t say anything, instead subtly nodding your head and lightly holding down his hips. You slowly take more and more of him in your mouth, alternating between soft and firm pressure. He’s finally reassured when you moan around his cock. He allows himself to relax and his eyes flutter closed, indulging in the immense pleasure you’re providing him. The warmth and wetness of your mouth are beyond anything his imagination could’ve conjured. 

Severus grips the armrests so tightly now that his knuckles are white. He keeps his hands there partially because he’s too afraid to grasp your hair and potentially hurt you again, but mainly because he’d holding on for dear life. His hips shake violently and he can’t stop groaning. He can feel his cock pulsating, ready for sweet release, but he has to use every fiber in his body to not just cum already. Severus wants his first blowjob to last longer. But you sense that he’s close to his orgasm, and you hollow your cheeks more and suck more firmly. With a loud groan and shaking legs, he comes undone in your mouth. His heart races and he pants, his body and mind in a state of absolute bliss after the best orgasm of his life. 

His eyes flutter open and he suddenly remembers that he never asked you if he could cum in your mouth. Though before he can apologize, he feels you humming around his soft cock and swallowing his seed. He stares at you with wide eyes, stunned that you’d do such a thing and stunned at how intensely his cock is throbbing with pure arousal. 

You slide his manhood out of your mouth and stand back up. The candlelight illuminates your messy hair and sweat beading on your forehead. Merlin, you look gorgeous like this. 

“You were amazing,” Severus whispers. You smile shyly at him and lean down to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you.” You run your hand down his clothed chest without breaking eye contact. “Do you think you’ll be up for another round soon?”

Severus blushes at your forwardness. “I am not sure. My refractory period is slightly long,” he admits. 

“Hmm, that’s fine. In the meantime, maybe you can undress me?” you lure. You pull down the straps of your dress, giving him a peek at your bra. You’re still leaning above him, so he can feel your breath on his skin and see the anticipation in your eyes. 

Severus is a flustered mess as he stares at your body. With a shaky hand, he reaches out and rests his hands on the top of your dress. He sits awkwardly on the desk chair, not knowing what to do or say. 

You sense his confusion. “Stand up.” Severus completely pulls down his trousers and steps out of them before standing in front of you. You point behind yourself and tell him, “Unzip me.” 

Severus focuses his eyes on the window as he reaches behind you and unzips your dress, which pools around your legs. Although you’re a prostitute and you just gave him a blowjob, he feels wrong looking at your naked body without your explicit consent. His hands then hover over where your dress once was, yet again not knowing where to put them. 

“You can look, you know,” you tease. Severus peels his eyes away from the window and takes in the magnificent sight of your partially naked body. His eyes linger over your lace panties and bra, which are the same shade of green as your dress. The sheer fabric clings to your body, revealing your curves perfectly. As the candlelight glistens off your flawless skin, he thinks that maybe his refractory period won’t last as long as he thought it would. 

“Er, what do you want me to do next?” he murmurs. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and look up at him with immense desire. You’re either one hell of an actress or you actually want him.

“You can start by taking off my bra.” Severus reaches behind your back and fiddles with your bra clasp. He fails at this task, partially because he’s overtaken with anticipation and partially because he’s so inexperienced. After several moments, you giggle and offer, “Let me help you.” You quickly unclasp your bra and allow Severus to pull it off of your arms. 

Severus swallows hard and has difficulty breathing as he stares at your breasts. Not even Muggle magazines prepared him for this. He gently cups one of your soft breasts and he marvels at how it fits perfectly in his hand. He lightly squeezes it and runs his thumb over your nipple, which hardens and peaks at his touch. He squeezes a little harder when you moan and bite on your lower lip, eager to draw more divine sounds out of you. 

“You are a goddess,” he murmurs. Maybe he’s crossing a line with you, but his words aren’t a lie. He’s never seen and never will see a woman as stunning as you.

“You’re very kind, Severus,” you whisper. Time freezes for a moment. It’s just the two of you in Spinner’s End staring deeply into each other’s eyes. No one matters in this world except for you. He doesn’t want to admit that his heart is starting to ache for you. 

You break the moment by standing on your tippy-toes and kissing him on his lips. Severus takes his time kissing you and exploring your mouth, wishing to drag this moment out for as long as he can. 

You take one of his hands and trail it to between your legs. He takes the hint and snakes his hands into your panties. He’s shocked when he feels your wetness coating his fingers. Does this mean that you truly want him, that all of this is not just an act? He shakes away the thought before it begins to play with his heartstrings even more. 

You gaze up at him expectantly, so he begins to experimentally circle his thumb around your clit. You moan with pleasure and bury your face into his shoulder. He melts at your touch and wraps his other around your back to pull you even closer. 

As you moan again, his face reddens as he remembers that he doesn’t know how to touch a woman. He wracks his brain for memories of the knowledge his dormmates had and any obscure piece of information he picked up from conversations with other men. All he wants is to pleasure you, so he runs his middle finger up and down your slit and then slowly pushes his finger inside. You gasp and start to grind your hips against his hand, beckoning him to fill you with more of his fingers. He pushes another finger inside you, pumping them both in and out of you. You two groan in unison, becoming more and more aroused each second. 

You and Severus are pressed so closely together that you can feel his now hard cock nudging against your front. Your eyes flutter open and you smirk at him. “I thought you would take longer,” you tease. 

You step away from him, forcing Severus to pull his fingers away from you. His heart drops, disappointed that he couldn’t pleasure you more. But those thoughts are quickly wiped away when you slip your panties off and rest your hands on his chest. 

You take your time unbuttoning his coat and then peeling off his robes and coat. He holds his breath as you caress his now bare chest. You somehow find his face handsome; it would take a miracle for you to like his thin physique. Yet if you are turned off, you don’t show it. Instead, you glance back up at him and bite your lower lip. “It’s up to you, Severus. Do you want to take me standing up, on the desk, or on the chair?” 

His eyes drift down to your supple breasts and your exposed cunt. Merlin, you are divine. Honestly, you would look stunning whether you’re naked or wearing a potato sack. He gulps, the burden of the decision weighing heavily on him. “Umm… I find…” he stammers, his voice hoarse. “I…. I think…”

“You’re taking too long. We’re standing.” You laugh and turn around, your back flush against his chest. You reach behind you and reassuringly rub his thighs. You turn your head back and look at him for a moment to quietly say, “Take your time, okay?” Seduction melts away and all he can feel is your tenderness.

Severus nods and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating a mile a minute and his palms are sweaty. This is it, this is the moment every interaction with you has been building up to. His mind goes blank; he can’t even fathom how he got here or how he’s about to lose his virginity to the most beautiful woman in the wizarding world. Pure and sheer exhilaration kicks in, and he grasps your hip with one hand. With the other, he aligns himself with your entrance and pushes the head of his cock in. 

Severus lets out mindless groans as he pushes his length into you, shocked by the feelings of warmth engulfing him. He thought the feeling of your hand around his cock felt good. He thought a blowjob felt amazing. But this feels heavenly. The warmth and wetness of your cunt, and the way your walls clench against him, is beyond compare. If he knew how this would feel earlier, he would’ve asked you to skip the blowjob. 

Once he bottoms out, he stills his hips and allows you to adjust to his length. He can feel your walls spasming around him as if you’re affected by this as much as he is. After several moments, you pat his thighs. “You can start moving.”

Severus rocks his hips at a gentle pace to test the waters. Even though this night is devoted to him, he wants you to enjoy this as well. He wants to slide deeper inside you, but he doesn’t know exactly how to rearrange himself. You look back at him and smile, and then bend forward slightly. 

He pulls back his hips and enters back into you. Oh, this new angle definitely feels much better. And even though you’re no longer completely flush against him, he can still smell the intoxicating scent of your shampoo and perfume. You moan loudly after a particularly deep thrust and praise, “You’re doing so well.”

“You feel, oh…” he whimpers. One hand trails up your body and squeezes your breast. It’s so, so soft. Everything about you is just perfect. 

You press your head against his shoulder and look up at him, your breath tickling his neck. You look expectantly up at him, so he nibbles on your ear and kisses your neck. This feels so, so right. 

Severus starts pumping into you at a faster pace, drawing out more gasps from your lips. “Keep going. You feel amazing,” you moan. Your praise makes Severus whine even louder. At this point, he’d do anything for you. He keeps up his pace and eventually reaches such a level of bliss that closes his eyes and opens his mouth in a silent ‘o.’

Severus almost jumps when he feels your walls squeezing around him, dissolving him into a moaning mess. He can feel his cock pulsating again. Merlin, he won’t be able to last much longer. He opens his eyes and although his vision is hazy from all the pleasure, he can tell that you’re smirking wickedly at him. “How does that feel, handsome?” you tease. 

“Please… I can’t…” he whines. His breaths become more shallow and his thrusts become more erratic and messy; he’s rutting against you more than anything. His grip on your hips is so firm that he knows your skin will be peppered with bruises. But his primary concern is that his legs are shaking so aggressively that they might buckle. 

You intentionally squeeze around him again, making Severus sob with pleasure. He can’t handle this anymore; he really can’t. The pleasure is so overwhelming that he thinks his soul might leave his body. And if his soul did, then so be it. At least he’d die a happy man.

“Here, let me help you.” You suddenly pull away, snapping Severus out of his paradise. Before he can protest, however, you spin around, push him to sit on the desk chair, and straddle him. All of it happens so fast that he has no idea he got here or how you got on top of him. It’s probably because his mind is hazy, but how can he complain about this new position when your breasts are hanging directly in his face? 

You slide down onto his cock, your abundant slick making the movement effortless. You grip his shoulders and start to ride him, your breasts bouncing up and down. He stares at them as though he’s stupified, and then takes one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks. You moan his name and press your chest even closer to him. 

His legs tremble again and he takes in deep breaths in an attempt to stop himself from cumming right then and there. But when you swirl your hips and squeeze your walls, he knows his efforts are of no use; he’s done for. His hips jolt upward and he groans so loudly that he wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors hear him. His cock keeps twitching, ropes of hot cum spilling inside you. It lasts so long that he knows that the second he pulls out, his seed is bound to drop onto the floor and down the desk chair. 

Your body gives no indication of it, but seeing his features drawn in pleasure brings you faster to your orgasm than you thought it would. You moan and trail your hands down to between your legs, rubbing your clit without a rational thought in your mind. Severus jolts as he feels your walls squeezing and spasming as you reach your own orgasm, the feeling making his cock ache with both pleasure and newfound desire. 

Now that the both of you are coming down from your highs, Severus leans his head onto the soft flesh of your breast, the beads of sweat on his forehead wetting your chest. His eyes are shut as he silently embraces you, relishing in relaxing against you. Never could he have imagined a better way to lose his virginity. 

He wishes he could stay here forever with you and forget all his responsibilities, though he knows you’ll leave after tonight and potentially never see you again. You’ll move on with your life and forget about him, but his memory of you will forever be engrained in his mind. Severus has to push all these thoughts far into his mind before he can get upset. 

Instead, he whispers “you are amazing,” his voice sounding as though it might fade away. You deserve nothing less than the highest praise. Honestly, he wants to tell you that this was the best moment of his life. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper. You twirl his hair with your finger and look down at him with a twinkle in your eyes. Perhaps you’re only saying that because you want to be nice or because you’re paid to make him feel good. Yet seeing that twinkling ignites hope inside of him, overturning previous thoughts about all of this just being a part of your job. Deep down in his heart, he thinks you’re telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe, you have grown attached to him as well. 

You’re still breathing heavily as you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes. The two of you sit still in this position for what feels like an eternity, yet Severus couldn’t care if actually did last an eternity; he’d be happy here in your arms. He’s never been as happy anywhere as here, his body against yours. 

At some point, you shift around, ready to stand up from him. Before you can leave him, he kisses you. The kiss is gentle and doesn’t last for more than three seconds, yet he still feels like it’s the last time he’ll ever kiss someone. And maybe it will be. 

You smile at him once he breaks the kiss. You slowly lift your hips off him and stand up. The second you pull out, his seed trickles out of your cunt and drops onto the floor and his legs. He stares between you and the floor, wondering if he’d be able to go for a third round. 

You wave your wand, picking your clothes off the floor and neatly folding them. “Where is your bathroom?” 

“On the right.” 

The sight of you gripping onto your dress irrationally sends him into a panic. Is this it? Is this goodbye? Are you going to get dressed and leave? But he bought you for the entire night. On another note, though, he won’t force you to stay if you want to leave. His words come out in a hurry as he adds, “If you desire, you can take a shower. I have shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You can stay the night as well. Only if you wish to, of course.”

You smile at him and nod. “Thank you, Severus. I think I’ll take you up on both your offers.” You press a kiss to his cheek and head out of the room. Even though the kiss was quick, the feeling of your lips against his cheeks burns in his mind. 

His heart soars at the fact that you’ll be staying overnight, but it quickly sinks when he remembers what his bedroom looks like. It would be a miracle if you weren’t disgusted by the slimy potion jars he hid there earlier, or disappointed at his lack of organization. Severus rushes to the bedroom and waves his wand over his sheets, mending the holes in the fabric. Muttering “Colovaria” under his breath, he changes both the comforter and pillowcase to be a deep green. There’s only one pillow, but he can sleep downstairs. At least the bed looks halfway decent now. 

When you come out of the bathroom, a towel is wrapped around your body and water drips from your hair. You smile shyly at him and say, “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your towel.”

“No, that is perfectly acceptable.”

“By the way, I’m done with the bathroom. You can use it now if you want.” 

Severus nods at you and then heads into the bathroom. An odd part of him doesn’t want to shower, to wash away your scent and the traces of your touch. Yet he still turns on the water and scrubs his body, knowing that you won’t be able to linger on his body forever anyway. 

After his shower, he dries his body instantly with a charm and puts on pajamas that don’t look beaten up. Usually, he throws something on and tumbles into bed. This time, he stands in front of the mirror and rearranges the fabric to make himself look more presentable for you. 

He walks back into the bedroom and finds you wearing your lingerie. Seeing you like this, about to go to bed, feels wrong. The night isn’t particularly warm and you should be sleeping in something more comfortable. 

“You do not need to sleep in that,” he comments. He opens his wardrobe and turns to look at you. “Do you have anything to sleep in?”

“I… You don’t want me to sleep like this?” you ask, confused. “And I don’t, actually.”

He finds it strange that you don’t have pajamas tucked away in your bag. Haven’t you had to sleep in a bed other than your own for your job? Nevertheless, he finds pajamas and hands them to you. “Here. You may wear this. It will be large on you, but it is comfortable.”

“Thank you, Severus,” you say quietly. You briefly look up at him and smile, and Severus briefly notices a strange look in your eye. But before he can say anything or decipher that look, you take the pajamas and slip off your bra and panties. He turns around as you undress, embarrassed to look at your body, as though he hasn’t seen you naked before. 

You pat the pillow and smooth down the blankets, getting all cozy in his bed. He takes this as his cue to head for the door. But just as he’s about to turn around to wish you a good night, you stop him. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“Downstairs.” He pulls on the handle as he hears you laugh. 

“No, silly! Come here!” You pat the blankets next to you, beckoning him to join you. Concerns about invading your privacy and comfort flood his mind, but then he sees the inviting smile on your face and relaxes. If anything, he’s excited to sleep next to you. 

Your face scrunches in confusion as Severus joins you on the mattress.  “Where’s your pillow?”

“I only have one,” he admits sheepishly. When Severus inherited this house from his parents, he wanted to erase the memories of his childhood from the house. He threw out his childhood bed and converted his old bedroom into an office. Then, he threw out almost all his parents’ items, their bedding set included. The last thing he wants at the beginning and end of every day is to be reminded of them. 

“Oh. You can take this then.” You lift your head from the pillow, but Severus stops you. 

“It is yours. You are the guest, after all.”

“That feels wrong,” you say. You scrunch your brows together and then your face lights up. “I have an idea. How about you take the pillow and I use your shoulder as my pillow instead?”

Severus’s heart skips a beat at the thought of cuddling with you, partially from nervousness and partially because he’s never cuddled with anyone before. He extends his arms to you and hopes you won’t notice his racing heart. 

After getting cozy on his arm and resting your hand on his chest, you look up at Severus and smile. Neither of you say anything or move in for a kiss; you both just lie there until you eventually drift off. He watches you as you sleep, taking in the delicate lines of your face and the rising and falling of your chest. 

No matter how hard he pushes it in the back of his mind, Severus has to admit to himself that he’s fallen for you. When you part from him tomorrow, he’ll be parting with the first person to make him feel alive in a long time. He watches as you rest, allowing the seconds to tick by, hoping that time will slow down if neither of you moves from this position. But after an hour of trying to slow down time, Severus finally sinks into a deep slumber. As he drifts off, the last thought that crosses his mind is how desperately he wishes that morning will never arrive.

[blood-orange-juice]

I swear, Dottore was written by a former STEM graduate. People don't normally write mad scientists this way.

Whenever I try to dig into deep lore, his research repeatedly turns out to be among the most useful data I have.

I know a good project when I see one. I've been on both sides of the academic hiring process, I've written grant proposals and I've reviewed them and I've seen better scientists than me discuss them, so please understand how much weight I put into this: these are very good projects.

(except for, you know, ethics)

His research topics seem random but he actually pokes at the most fundamental questions of Teyvat with each one.

His Eleazar studies dig at the relationship between forbidden knowledge and dead gods (surprise: these are different things. I might have lumped them together if not for his notes).

Cloning himself pokes at the difference between machine and man, and also it's the technology of Eclipse Dynasty, Teyvat's main historical enigma. Have you ever wondered whether all ruin guards were men once? Or why did Khaenri'ahns switch from alchemy to ruin machines so abruptly? Or why they were cursed.

(I have a suspicion it also pokes at the nature of time and stories, the way he talks about a need for an ideal observer, and also the way Khaenri'ahn history went)

Delusions answer the question of why does Teyvat need Archons for Visions to appear and for humans to be able to use elemental magic. We don't know the answer but Dottore does.

I'm eyeing his artificial god because I don't think that what we saw in Sumeru was the final project. He seemed so nonchalant when it failed.

This is theoretical science at its finest. As a cherry on top, every project also yields practically applicable results.

He's a dream of every grant commitee.

[renthony]

Hope in the Hellfire: Revisiting Fahrenheit 451 in 2024

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

When I first read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, I wasn’t much younger than seventeen-year-old Clarisse McClellan, one of the novel’s major characters. In many ways I was like her: disgruntled with classmates who found me off-putting, eager to talk to adults who would entertain my unusual questions, and constantly off exploring the woods. I was a bookish loner who struggled socially. I proudly read banned books, and carried around my mom’s paperback copy of Robert A. Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land—a book formally banned from inclusion in my high school’s library or curriculum—as a passive challenge for adults to try and confiscate it. None ever tried, but I sure was prepared to raise hell.

Revisiting Fahrenheit 451 in 2024 is a strange experience, not just because of the book’s political commentary. In 2024 I am 30 years old—the same age as Guy Montag, the protagonist. It is easy to put myself in his shoes now, the way I once put myself in Clarisse’s.

Montag is a fireman in a world where every house is fireproof. Instead of extinguishing fires, Bradbury’s firemen collect and burn books. Without books, the population is ignorant and complacent, kept busy with mindless screen entertainment.

Like Montag, I live in a world where books are targeted by a hostile government. In 2024 I live in Florida, where Governor Ron DeSantis makes regular headlines for his crusades against public education, libraries, and books. Many an op-ed has been written about the relevance of Fahrenheit 451 in our times, and it almost feels cliché as an anti-censorship advocate to list it as one of my favorites.

Cliché or not, I can’t help it. Fahrenheit 451 is a warning against censorship, yes; it is a pointed exploration of 1950s American social anxieties, yes; it is a well-written piece of fiction containing rich descriptions of exciting events, yes; but more than that? Fahrenheit 451 is one of my favorite novels because it leaves me feeling hopeful in the midst of social upheaval.

After stealing and reading forbidden books, Montag’s life spirals out of control. His wife sells him out to the authorities, he kills a former colleague in self-defense, he is pursued in a televised government manhunt, and before the story ends he watches bombs reduce his former home to rubble. Montag survives, but he doesn’t fix the world. He is not the victorious hero of a glorious rebellion. Many, many books get burned, and people die. Yet still, there is hope, because Montag finds community. He finds a way to help preserve the books’ contents so they can be passed down to later generations.

In 2024, Fahrenheit 451’s message is important not only because it warns against censorship, but because it reminds us that even if the road ahead is difficult, even if things get worse before they can get better, even if some stories are lost, there are still countless unnamed, unnoticed people fighting to preserve and share knowledge.

The best part is that any of us can join them.

_

Written on commission, using the prompt, “500 words about your favorite pre-1960s Sci-Fi.”

Lovingly dedicated to the Queer Liberation Library (on tumblr as @queerliblib!) for their ongoing mission to make queer eBooks accessible. Check them out at queerliberationlibrary.org!

Like this essay? Tip me on Ko-Fi, pledge to my Patreon, or commission an essay on the topic of your choice!

[twilight0wanderer]

It's been a while, but I know I enjoyed it. I also don't remember finding it particularly depressing, although I acknowledge that to most people it probably is.

I will say, from what I remember, it does lean a little too heavy into Great Man history at times and it overemphasizes the importance of specific battles over the broader strategic, logistical, and sociopolitical conditions of the wars that contain them.

Also, I've never liked or agreed with the idea of forbidden/harmful knowledge. Would our world be better if no nuclear weapons had ever been built? Unquestionably, but that's a question of governmental action and policy, not scientific knowledge. Additionally, that scientific knowledge was never locked behind one person. Relativity exists independent of the existence of Albert Einstein; someone would have formulated it and opened the door to atomic energy sooner or later.

is megamorphs 3 worth reading? just seems kinda depressing but idk

To the polls!

[cosmos-daughter]

You can even disagree that womanhood is the main topic of Bloodborne depending on your interpretation, but you can't claim to understand the lore if you try to erase the importance of this topic to the story or the fact that the women in it shape the narrative of that universe. I believe Bloodborne is primarily a criticism of insatiable greed: of mortal curiosity for forbidden knowledge sparked by the desire to obtain immortality, to reach Godhood like the entities they worship. But those who suffer the most in this search for the unattainable are of course, women. Despite how powerful The Great Ones are, they possess the flaw of being unable to procreate without human women as surrogates. The line "every Great One loses its child, and then yearns for a surrogate" implies that they do have the capacity of carrying an offspring but fail to succeed entirely, always ending up with a stillborn. Kos' child likely died inside of her and the one we see crawling out of its mother's corpse and weeping on the shore is nothing but a physical manifestation created by the nightmare to punish the hunters, Kos' curse. Even these multi-dimensional beings that can exist across several planes of existence still need women. There's nothing more powerful in the universe of Bloodborne's than the capacity of birthing, women are the givers of life even for those cosmically superior to humanity. We saw with Arianna that the task to bear an eldritch child isn't always consensual, and this cosmic intervention combined with the manner women are treated by the ungrateful and misogynistic men of that universe creates this oppressive cycle of women having their bodily autonomy stripped away over and over again. Not only by men, but by Gods too; although I believe the Great One's intentions aren't malicious like men's, it seems unlikely that a cosmic entity would be misogynistic, since it is a human concept created by society. But regardless, it's always women on the receiving end: even Yharnam, a special woman who was chosen to carry Oedon's child, was no exception. Even while she performed a task seen as divine and a great honor, when war broke out she had her hands bound and the baby ripped out of her womb. The details of this event might not be known for sure, but that's what's implied by her character design and melancholic behaviour, and it's so painfully clear that she suffered the most cruel fate precisely because of the importance of her role of birthing a Great One. Yharnam's death is the most concrete proof that even with women playing the most crucial role in the existence of life, their contribution and sacrifice will never be properly recognized or respected, and their bodies will remain being treated like mere vessels. As depressing and unfair as this is, the world of Bloodborne isn't too different from ours in this aspect.

[bellawoso]

New Romantics

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

really channeled my lack of knowledge for the football rules into this fic

Alexia had always sworn by one rule.

If she was to date anyone - which she was sure she wouldn’t due to her busy football schedule - she wanted to be with someone who knew football. Who knew the rules, and the players.

Alexia loved football, so honestly it made sense on her preferences, she did the want to bore someone with conversations of football which was a repetitive topic for her.

After one relationship with a girl who knew nothing of the sport Alexia adored, the midfielder decided she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t even interested in Alexia’s career.

Her ex’s failed flirting attempts at playing dumb of the sport did nothing to make Alexia laugh, it only irritated her more.

Alexia broke up with her after a week, she was suprised with herself for not have ending it sooner.

However, when Alexia met you in the stands of a Barcelona game that your friend had dragged you to, she was quick to break her one rule in dating.

———————————————————————

You had met your friend when he accidentally hit you in the face, whilst cheering in a secluded Barcelona bar after his team had scored the winning goal, your friendship quickly grew from there, you both had much in common, both going into teaching as you were quick to apply for a vacant job position at the primary school he worked at.

The only difference you had with him, was that he loved football, and you had never had any interests in watching people run up and down a pitch, kicking a ball for ninety minutes.

Therefore it was very safe to say that you were not a fan of football, you didn’t know the rules or the players, and unsurprisingly you were not aware that it was practically forbidden to wear white and gold in Barca’s home section of the stadium, your choice of white denim shorts and a gold tube top had recieved many dirty looks from all of the Barca fans you had passed.

As you and your friend arrived at your seats around fifteen minutes before the game was to start, a soft “ay dios mio” could be heard from the woman next to you.

You, who had no knowledge of the spanish language, only heard “dios” which you mistook for “dia”, and concluded the woman next to you wished you a good morning.

You responded with a smile “bon dia!”, to which your spanish friend translated to you that the woman said “oh my god” and reminded you that you accidentally wore the opposition’s trademark colours.

You missed the woman’s friend laughing, and settled on sitting down and shrugging your shoulders, honestly not understanding the big deal.

However, as soon as your die-hard Barcelona fan friend noticed you were sat next to world-class Barcelona players, he was quick to rush to get you a jersey from a store near the food and drink, with a promise to get you a tea.

Your friend came back quickly just as the game was about to start, throwing a blue and red top in your face, telling you to put it on now, you lifted up the top which caught the two Barca player’s attention next to you, and were met with a last name on the back you briefly recognised.

PUTELLAS

Alexia thought you were beautiful as soon as she saw you, experiencing a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and a light flush of her cheeks which didn’t go unnoticed by Jana next to her, who took to teasing the older footballer next to her.

The sight of her last name on your back did not help her case at all, and pushed all thoughts of you to the back of her head, her one rule making you completely off limits.

Being set with the hard task of sitting next to you in the match, Alexia was constantly subjected to your soft “huhs” each time the whistle was blown, and honestly the only words she had actually heard you say the entire time were “What’s going on?”

Until a Real Madrid forward made a tackle on a Barcelona defender in the box, and you shouted:

“Penalty!”

This recieved confused glances from surrounding Barca fans, and an elbow from your friend, and a snort of laughter from Jana who sat next to Alexia.

“She is very funny Ale, admit it!”

To this you gave her a look of confusion, and asked “Whats funny?”

The pure look of innocence on your face made Alexia hold back a smile as Jana explained that it was in Barcelona’s own box, so there would be no penalty as if there was it would be an own goal.

You quickly thanked the brunette, to which she gave you a cheeky grin and a promise of “anytime” in return.

It wasn’t until 10 minutes later that the flags for offside went up against Hansen, which had your friend shouting.

“Ref! How the fuck was that offside!?”

To which Alexia and Jana nodded in agreement, leaving only you yet again confused, with no idea what offside meant, your brain short circuited it to mean that the player went off of the pitch, making you agree with them.

“I know right! She didn’t even go off the pitch!”

Your exclamation combined with your friend’s Spanish cursing of you and your stupidness under his breath once again captured both Alexia’s and Jana’s attention, but this time even Alexia couldn’t help her laughter.

After their teasing died down, Alexia felt a bit bad for you, as you really did just have no idea what was going on, and took on the hard task of explaining what offside was.

Even if you were listening to the blonde’s soft accented words, you were still sure you wouldn’t understand what this “offside” thing was, except you were to enamoured with her beautiful features that you accidentally let all of her words go in one ear and out of the other.

You could only nod with a dopey smile on your face, as the blonde flashed you a knowing smirk.

The game ended 4-1 to Barcelona. You had zoned out, thinking of the gorgeous blonde next to you, debating whether to ask for her number or not.

Until you felt your friend tugging you up by your arm, saying that you needed to cheer instead of looking sad as if they had lost, as he teased that you might be an inner Madrid fan at heart, and joked he would disown you if you were.

You only gave him a lighthearted shove, you definitely didn’t deserve how he absolutely bodied you back, making you fall straight into the woman next to you.

Until you felt a pair of strong hands gripping your waist, you looked up to see the the blonde once again with a cocky smirk adorning her face.

“Careful, wouldn’t want you falling for me just yet.”

You were fast to push yourself off her and mutter a “gracias” in return, feeling your cheeks flush red.

It turned out that your friend had not wanted to come across as a crazy fan to the two players earlier, but was quick to whisper who they were in your ear, offering you a brief description of them, and telling you how he wanted their signatures before they left.

He leaned over you and tapped the blonde on her shoulder, and asked in Spanish if you could both have their signatures, to which they agreed.

When Alexia went to sign yours, she went against all the thoughts in her head telling her that you went against exactly what she wanted in a partner, and scribbled down her number on your jersey.

Alexia then leaned over to whisper in your ear,

“text me, I don’t mind teaching you some more football, as long as you agree to a date, in a better choice of clothing colours”

———————————————————————

A/N : I do actually have a part 2 to this planned out of meeting the team to watch a match or just you watching a training session and still not understanding, however first I am going to finish my Jana fic 🤍

[saylessastrology]

The Ruler of the 8th House: Intimacy

Before diving into the details of the ruler of the 8th house, let's first understand what the 8th house represents in astrology. This house is commonly associated with death, transformation, and rebirth, as well as deep emotional connections and shared resources. It governs our approach to intimacy, sex, and power dynamics in relationships.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 1st House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 1st house of the birth chart, there is a strong emphasis on the individual's personal power and sense of self. This placement suggests a deep need for control and dominance in intimate relationships, as well as a fascination with taboo and forbidden desires. Individuals with this placement may also be drawn to exploring the occult and mystical realms, as a means of accessing hidden knowledge and power.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 2nd House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 2nd house suggests a focus on financial and material resources in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who can provide them with financial stability and security. There may also be a desire to accumulate wealth and material possessions as a means of gaining power and control in relationships. This placement can also indicate a strong sexual appetite, with a need for physical pleasure and gratification.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 3rd House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 3rd house of the birth chart, there is an emphasis on communication and mental connection in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who stimulate them intellectually, and who can engage in deep, meaningful conversations. There may also be a fascination with taboo or forbidden topics, as well as an interest in exploring the darker aspects of human psychology.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 4th House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 4th house suggests a strong connection between intimacy and family dynamics. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar values and traditions, and who can provide a sense of emotional security and stability. There may also be a need to confront and heal past traumas related to family dynamics, in order to fully embrace intimacy and vulnerability in relationships.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 5th House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 5th house of the birth chart, there is an emphasis on pleasure, creativity, and self-expression in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who can provide them with a sense of adventure and excitement, and who share similar creative passions. There may also be a desire for sexual exploration and experimentation, as a means of expressing one's unique identity and desires.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 6th House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 6th house suggests a connection between intimacy and work or service. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar values and work ethic, and who can provide a sense of stability and routine. There may also be a need for sexual release as a means of stress relief, and a fascination with health and wellness practices related to sexuality.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 7th House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 7th house of the birth chart, there is an emphasis on partnership and balance in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar values and goals, and who can provide a sense of harmony and balance. There may also be a fascination with power dynamics in relationships, and a desire to explore different roles and identities in intimate connections.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 8th House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 8th house suggests a powerful connection to intimacy, sexuality, and shared resources. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share their intensity and depth of feeling, and who can provide a sense of emotional and sexual fulfillment. There may also be a fascination with taboo and forbidden desires, as well as a desire to explore the mysteries of life and death.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 9th House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 9th house of the birth chart, there is an emphasis on exploration and expansion in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share their sense of adventure and curiosity, and who can provide a sense of intellectual stimulation and growth. There may also be a fascination with different cultural and spiritual traditions, as a means of accessing hidden knowledge and power.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 10th House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 10th house suggests a connection between intimacy and career or public image. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar goals and ambitions, and who can provide a sense of social status and recognition. There may also be a need to balance personal desires with professional obligations, as well as a fascination with power dynamics in the workplace.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 11th House

When the ruler of the 8th house is placed in the 11th house of the birth chart, there is an emphasis on community and group dynamics in intimate relationships. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar values and interests, and who can provide a sense of belonging and connection. There may also be a fascination with taboo or forbidden desires within social contexts, and a desire to explore different identities and roles within group dynamics.

Ruler of the 8th House in the 12th House

The ruler of the 8th house in the 12th house suggests a connection between intimacy and spirituality or transcendence. Individuals with this placement may be drawn to partners who share similar mystical or spiritual beliefs, and who can provide a sense of emotional and psychological support. There may also be a fascination with different states of consciousness, as well as a desire to explore the deeper mysteries of life and the universe.

[adkawariatka]

I can’t stop thinking about this idea soooo here is another part.

In hindsight Tim really shouldn’t have worked himself so much about that friend of Damian. Why you might think? Becouse spying your brother’s friend is an invasion of his privacy? Or just creepy? Or maybe its unfair towards said brother and his friend? No. No Tim problem was much more human shaped. He did plan to be subtle but with DAMIAN. Not with his very annoying and moral older brother. When Dick found him in Bat Cave in his work trance and asked him what he was doing…. Tim just told him, damn his one track focus. It earned him a lecture about privacy, respect and morals….So he was forbidden from any camera videos in areas that Damian met his misterious friend. He felt so frustrated when he tried to explain his worries to Dick and he called him paranoid… which fair he may be sometimes fixated on some cases and a little suspicious of everything too… normal. But Dick was just so happy about the information that Damian had a friend, that he did not think about the fact that other normal 10 year old would never be able to talk with Damian about complicated emotion problems … let alone how to solve them. The time of Damian working on friends mission, Or differently meeting with some stranger, and changing his behaviours at manor lined. SO that someone needed to talk with Damian about his social problems. The only logical way of explaining the „condinience” would be if that person was someone older. Old enough to understand social interactions to the level that allowed them to introduce it to Damian. It painted disturbing picture to Tim. Some Creep manipulating his younger brother. It can lead to a disaster not only for Damian but all the Waynes. What if he will Trust that person and tell them their secret? The talk with Damian only opened his eyes that above all the training the kid had he was still just that: a kid. The only thing that Dick advised him was to go and talk with Damian. Which ok, last time went well but…. he might at least try.

-

Tim did not wanted to believe that it was that easy. Of course he didnt start to snoop about the friend yet…. But just interacted with Damian. First time was really akward but they got past it. Tim still cringes at the memory:

It was after patrol they were changing in to civilian clothes. Tim was battling with his thoughts how to start conversation when Damian started to pull out his equipment for sharpening his katana. And he thoght that it is as good subject as any other.

-how long does it take to sharpen it?

Damian stopped what he was doing and gazed at him warly. They stood in complete silence long enough to be uncomfortable. Tim started to think that it was mistake when Damian broke the silence.

-do you…want to see?

And Tim did want. It turned out that it was great idea. Damian talked for almost an hour about granuality of sandpaper used to sharpen his katana, different kinds of oils and even how to storage it properly. Tim was impressed by detailed knowledge and experienced movements. That was his first full Blown conversation with Damian and it was great.

After that they interacted with each other more and more outside of patrols. They weren’t conversations of utter importance, but Tim got fond of them. More often than not it revolved around things as trivial as favourite books, school, fight techniques Or even hobbies. If Tim was being honest he did not Think that Damian would ever talk about such topics. In the past he often expressed his annoyance at information of this type, but not anymore. Tim suspected that it was the influence of his „friend”. However among those unsuspecting subjects Damian sometimes asked questions that worried Tim.

One of the untold rules of their interactions were that they never talked about the „deep stuff”. Which was why he was so surprised by sudden change of topics during unsuspecting conversation about donating clothes to Damian school, which by the way he was doing things like that now. Without any warning he heard question:

- when you were living in Darke manor were you… lonely?

That was weird question to ask without warning. But… was Damian worried about him? Or was he feeling like he has no one close? But there was also second aspect: From beggining of their interactions they avoided any subjects that Tim was prying for and here Damian was offering it on silver platter. He was not going to waste that chance.

-hmmm… well I was young and alone for most of the time so yes I was

Damian seemed to mull over that information. After short pause he started

- What did you do to feel better?

- I mostly tried to take my mind elsewhere. I cooked, cleaned, studied, went around making photos of Batman in the middle of the night… but I wouldn’t recommend that to anyone. Oh and I read many many books. But you know the best option is to go to people that care for you.

- that seems acceptable.

After that Damian came back to the previous subject. Tim felt a little dumbfounded. He couldn’t shake the impression that he was the one grilled for information in this situation.

Not long after that memorable conversation Damian started going to library very often. Tim was now seriously worried. Did Damian felt lonely? Did he actually think that he has no one. It didn’t seat with Tim right. He doesn’t mean that he was uneasy with Damian trying to help himself… it was more about the fact that he was doing it wrong… he had Dick and Bruce, Alfred, his supposed friend… hell Tim was right here! He thought that their relationship was better. He thought… he doesn’t know what he felt but he was damn upset about it. If Damian does not came to Tim then he will come to him. When he passed library third time that week and Damian was there picking books he decided that it was enough.

When he entered Damian was standing on a small stool picking books from the shelf high above his head. Tim walked to the stack of already picked ones and went through their titles

- I didn’t know you were interested in astrology… or maths and physics

- I am not

Replayed Damian without the beat of hestitation. Tim looked at him as if he grown second head.

-then… why did you choose those books? I can help you find some about katanas or animals

- I appreciate the offer but I do not require your assistance.

Tim stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, while Damian apparently found what he was looking for and got of the stool. He turned around and meet Tim’s unsure eyes. In his hand he held huge brown book with constellations on the cover. Damian studied him for a moment.

- Drake

- Damian IF I can somehow help…

Cut in Tim trying to act as a responsible older brother. Where the hell was dick when he was needed. He was the emotional one. His small breakdown was interrupted by Damian words:

- Timothy I don’t know what inaccurate conclusion you created but whatever you are thinking is wrong

It sounded only a little as an insult. That’s progress but it does not solve his problem.

- Damian if you look for a way to feel better…

Tim trailed off God he was awful at this. He had problems processing his feelings how was he supposed to untangle Damian’s?!

- Ancients Those books are not for me.

Tim stared dumbfounded. Who the hell were ancients and if books weren’t for Damian then…

-they are for Danny

Ok Tim did not know from when did Damian started using nicknames, or who was Danny but he started to have his suspicions. Who did Damian became close lately? To the mysterious friend. It was not difficult from there.

-soooo Danny told you he was lonely?

Tim swears that if some creep is trying to pry on his little brother developing compassion then he is going to make sure he will pay for it very high price. He needs as much information as he can get.

- No he did not. But I observed that…his mood drops whenever we had gone longer without seeing each other…. Your advise seems to help

Huh. Tim did not expect that. However that does not seem that it is not manipulation either. Danny might be playing the victim to ensure that Damian trusts him completely.

- hey Damian how old is Danny?

Damian narrowed his eyes and tensed. Oops Tim just crossed the line.

- I don’t see any reason I should inform you about that.

That was rather cold. Tim is glad that Damian’s katana is away from his hand radious.

- If he is lonely then he could sometimes visit manor. Come for dinner or something. It’s not like our friends don’t visit.

Damian eyes softened a little. Tim counted this as a win.

- I will take that into account.

After that Tim helped Damian carry his books to his room and tried not to worry too much about his suspicions.

-

In Tim’s defense he did not plan this. He was just checking out the coffee shop close to the park when he bumped into them in the doorway. He exited said store when he stumbled into someone. Only after a moment he processed that said someone held in hands the same huge brown book with familiar constalations on the cover. And sure enough when he looked to the left there was standing Damian. The boy who held the book was Laughing and looking at his younger brother. Tim studied him carefully he had piercing blue eyes, hollow cheeks indicating malnutrition and black tangled hair that seemed in serious need of a cut. He was wearing jeans that in the past were probably navy blue but now seemed more gray and brown pulled jumper very similar to what he used to wear few years ago. He was lanky in that unhealthy way that kids from troubled homes were. Tim smiled slyly and caught Damian eyes. He seemed really tense.

- hey Danny nice finally meeting you!

[miajooz]

Hey pretty

How are you today ? Hope you are doing amazing! So I have a request that I don't know if it's your cup of tea so feel free to ignore this.❤

How would you feel on modern!AU ellie and reader who where eachothers first loves meeting again after many years both having a family and talk with so much love to each other and it's angsty and lalalandish if you know what I mean . Anyway thats it !

Because I loved you first

warnings 𖤓 - not many warnings, just angst and fluff! use of y/n a few times—topics of homophobia, alcohol, and drugs mentioned. - wc: 5.8k

extra 𖤓- thank you so much for the request, beautiful. IM SO GRATEFUL!! i also wrote this while waiting on the poll for gamer!ellie, so i promise ill start writing when i see the results! anyways, i hope this is to your liking!

you know what people say about your first love—well—they say a lot of things. many theories suggest that you never get over your first love, even if you have a knew lover. your first love is the birth of all your feelings, the place where all those ideas and expectations for what you want in a relationship really bloom. that’s because you see it first hand, you see your cards laid out and how each of you play them to form a functional relationship.

even the toxic relationships with no functionality are remembered. is it to say they’re remembered for the sole purpose that they were toxic and messy? or maybe it’s for the same reasons as how you remember any first love. sure, you remember the bad parts, that’s the most obvious part of a toxic relationship. but what about the similarities? every relationship with a first love is different, different people have different experiences—that’s common knowledge.

but what about the similarities? more specifically, heartbreak.

heartbreak is at the end of all these kinds of relationships, though some feel heartbreak throughout a relationship. at least one of you has to feel it, it also seems to be a common theme in lesbian couples. not to be stereotypical per se, but something about these relationships feels so forbidden; even in modern times. it all depends on your environment, it doesn’t matter that it’s more normalized now. maybe it’s because you’re still figuring out yourself when you’re with your first love, even more so if you’re trying to put a pin on what your sexuality is.

that’s why when things end, it feels like you’ve lost a piece of yourself. the piece of yourself and the front you made for this amazing person in your life, is gone. it’s irrelevant to hold onto such passions and ideals when the person they were intended for isn’t in your life anymore. so yeah, in simple terms: it’s as if you’ve lost a piece of yourself. but what are you to do when you’re left questioning who you are again?

break ups happen for many reasons, sometimes you get bored, some cheat, some abuse, the reasons are endless. but what about the people who don’t have a say in their own relationship? what about the people who have to sit back and watch everything they built with the love of their life be torn from their hands with no warning. even if there’s a warning, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

your first love embeds vivid memories into your brain, memories and feelings you can’t forget in situations like yours. your first love can become an extension of yourself, it’s such a profound experience you can’t help but feel as though it’ll never be replicated, as if you’ll never feel that way again. there’s a mold your first love makes, a mold that your relationships afterwards follow. maybe that’s why you can’t forget. the root, the heart, the soul, all of the foundation for your next relationships are built off your first one. it’s like an answer key, because you know what you want.

especially if nothing went wrong, then you really had everything you wanted.

that’s what happened to you and ellie. you both met in high school, she wanted to major in astronomy and you wanted to major in psychology. the two of you were good friends before, but the friendship faded after the two of you hung out alone so many times. the friendship developed into something much more, it was almost as if it was destined.

in your case, you had your future practically planned out for you. your parents had such old, traditional ideals; it was suffocating. everyday of your life felt like playing dolls, like you were a puppet in a big show for everybody to cast expectations and ideals on in the name of legacy. they wanted you to have a husband and kids, safe to say they didn’t want you to go to college—let alone have a girlfriend. but somewhere in your delusional mind, you thought maybe you’d have control over your life for once.

your life ended the day you had that sleepover with ellie. the sleepover you hosted at your house, it was new year’s eve . new year’s eve was a fun night, you could watch the fireworks with the love of your life on your balcony and talk about everything and anything. the fireworks were so beautiful that night, but not nearly as beautiful as ellie. the way her messy hair framed her face and blew in the slight, cold breeze. the way you’d occasionally feel her green eyes locked on you. what an entrancing woman, how’d you get so lucky?

your head was raised high, your eyes tracing all the beautiful bursts of color and life that people shot into the sky. the distant cheers of children cheering and screaming in excitement over a new year. a fresh start for some people, but not to you. to you, this was a start to taking control of your life. you’d work to grow more with ellie, get a house, live happily. that’s what you both wanted, you just wanted to be happy.

but hope was a curse, a curse that made you think things would be okay in situations that would never be okay.

ellie wasn’t watching the fireworks, well—maybe she was. but she was watching them through your eyes, the way your pupils expanded and reflected the rainbow colors shooting into the sky from all directions. you had such a calm, peaceful look on your face. her heart just swelled, you were so beautiful she wanted to cry.

she reached her hand towards you a bit until they connected, interlocking your fingers. that snapped you out of your mesmerized state, the colors fading from your pupils as you looked at her instead. her green eyes were reflecting yours, a beautiful mirror that told so many stories and so many feelings.

“you’re so beautiful.” she murmured, her body quite close to yours. her grip on your hand tightened a bit, those beautiful green eyes looking at you like you were a work of art. like she was at a museum looking at an ancient greek statute, like you were gifted by aphrodite herself.

all you could do was smile, your face was so soft and filled with genuine love. she was the love of your life, there was no doubt about that. you let out a short laugh, leaning in to kiss her. your lips connected softly, it was a gentle kiss that spoke so many unspoken words.

it looked like a scene from a romance movie, you never felt so much love for a person—not ever. your lips were soft against her chapped ones, almost symbolic in the way of healing. the kiss wasn’t very progressive, you kind of just sat there and kissed her over and over again.

that’s when the door to your bedroom creaked open, though you didn’t notice. you were too focused on ellie to care about anything else, plus, how could a door opening be heard over booming fireworks clouding your senses?

in the doorway was your mother, the look on her face could be described as horrified. ellie seemed to know something was up from the shift in energy, she opened her eyes slightly and broke the kiss, looking over her shoulder. there was your mother, standing in the doorway like she just saw somebody dead on the floor. as if ellie just murdered her daughter.

you immediately got curious when ellie broke the kiss, so you mirrored her actions.

your heart dropped to your chest, oh my god.

“shit..” you mumbled under your breath, looking at your mother with an equally horrified expression. this couldn’t be happening, why did things have to go so wrong? you tried to pull your hand away, but ellie didn’t let you. seriously, what was there to hide now?

“mom—“ you started, but you were quickly cut off by her angry voice. this was not good.

“what the hell is this, y/n?! did you just kiss that girl?!” she asked in utter shock and disappointment. that wasn’t the part that hurt you, the disgusted undertone is what hurt. as if you could describe something so blatantly obvious an undertone.

“mom, she’s my girlfriend. i didn’t think it would be a big deal.” you tried to reassure her, brushing it off as casual. why wouldn’t it be casual? was it a crime to love somebody? but you knew it was in her eyes, in the eyes of somebody like her.

your mother wasn’t having it, she looked between you and ellie with utter repulsion. ellie bit her cheek as to soothe her nerves, this was a very awkward situation for her. what made it harder was how upset you looked,

that alone hurt, it hurt a lot.

“oh, so sneaking around behind my back is okay?” she stared, her manufactured fingers pointing at your direction in a scrutinizing way. her eyes locked on ellie, narrowed in disdain and anger. “get out, get out of my house.”

you’re jaw dropped a bit, you were furious. she stared at your mother wide eyed, torn between letting go of your hand and leaving or staying to fight this. ellie couldn’t leave you behind, that wasn’t the type of person she was.

“what the hell is wrong with you, mom?! she’s my girlfriend!” you argued, stepping in front of ellie a bit. you never raised your voice at your mother before, but this situation seemed fit. as you saw it, respect was earned, not given.

your mother was livid, especially since your reaction was so raw and angry. over a girl? repulsive. “no, no she’s not. not anymore, you’re breaking up with her now.” she said firmly, not even hesitating when she saw your hurt expression. “you will have a husband, i won’t allow such sin and shamefulness in my household. do you want to be kicked out?!”

your face dropped, kicked out? you knew how your mother could be, she’d strip you of everything you knew and loved if it didn’t align with her. did she seriously want to kick you out over this? you’d be on the streets, you were still 17. ellie couldn’t take you in either, she was going off to college in three weeks.

before you could argue back, ellie did. “what the actual fuck is wrong with you?! did you have her just to control her life?!” she yelled, trying to charge towards your mother, but you held her back. you tried to intervene but it was no use.

your mother looked appalled, the shift in her expression made your blood run cold. “get the hell out of my house, you’ve corrupted my daughter.” she accused, her eyes falling on you next. “if you don’t break up with her i’m kicking you out.”

those words rung in your head over and over, it was as if time slowed. you almost thought it’d be worth it. you couldn’t lose ellie, she was absolutely everything to you. she was the only person in your life who genuinely made you feel like you mattered. but you couldn’t argue this, your mother was a stubborn as a rock.

ellie was shocked, this was absolutely unreal. she didn’t want to do all of this in front of your mother. she let out a shaky sigh before gripping your hand much tighter. “fine.” she said begrudgingly, immediately pulling you towards the door. she pushed your mother out of the way, looking over her shoulder as you walked through the house.

you were in your front yard now, since that’s where ellie dragged you. you were sobbing at this point, crouched down with her and clinging onto her like a lifeline. this was the hardest moment of your life. as much as you wanted to stay with ellie, that wasn’t realistic.

“please, please don’t leave me. i love you so much.” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. your mother was watching through some window, her expression cold and angry. but you didn’t care, and neither did ellie. all she could worry about was you and your well being—what would happen if you were actually kicked out. seeing you cry so hard and the idea of having to leave you had her sobbing as well.

ellie shushed you, running her hands up and down your arms comfortingly. but it didn’t do much, especially since she was crying herself. “shh, it’s okay, baby. i love you too, i love you so, so much.”

those words were so unbearably painful to hear, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone form a decent thought or sentence besides a plea. your heart felt like it was squeezing every ounce of joy in your life out and into a dumpster. it felt like everything you did was being destroyed in front of you helplessly.

“please don’t leave me.” you repeated, unsure what else to say. “please don’t leave me.” you had mascara streaming down your face messily, it was a devastating sight to your girlfriend.

ellie’s heart was torn to shreds, watching her person in so much pain was too much. she wiped some of the mascara with her thumb, though it didn’t do much. maybe she just wanted to touch you.

“i know, baby. i’m so sorry.” she murmured, her hands lingering on your face. “please don’t cry, you look so pretty tonight.”

those words only made you sob harder, even more so when you saw her shift. why was she standing up, she couldn’t possibly be leaving, right? you let out some sort of strangled cry, desperately reaching for her. you didn’t allow her to stand up all the way.

“no, no! ellie, ellie—please!” you sobbed, desperately clinging onto her shirt. ellie’s face contorted into one of pure devastation, like she just lost everything she loved. she did, you were her whole world and more. she leaned down a bit, her eyes sympathetic and spilling out tears. then your lips connected, but it wasn’t as comforting as the one from earlier. she kissed you softly, and then she stood up.

you choked out another loud cry, reaching for her like she was about to run into a battlefield. “i love you, i love you so much, okay?“ she was wiping the tears from her eyes as they fell. watching your crumbled form on the floor, she couldn’t take it. she looked up at the sky, the fireworks booming now just felt like stabs to her heart.

before you could protest, she was walking towards her car. you reached out for her and weakly screamed, unable to form a coherent sentence—not even a plea. this was the hardest thing ellie had ever done in her life, but it had to be done. she couldn’t allow herself to be the reason your life went to shit, no, you deserved much better than that.

when she drove away, all you did was cry in your front lawn. hunched over, hands on your head, sobbing. it was the kind of sobbing that knew no bounds, the kind that poured out of you in a way you didn’t know was possible.

oh, ellie. the love of your life, your soulmate. yeah, you were lost again for sure.

so..how did you end up here? this was quite a few years later. ellie was gone, but she never left your mind. that night never left your mind, the night where you lost yourself again in a way you didn’t know was possible. but ellie wasn’t in a much better place, starting college after suffering such a heartbreak wasn’t easy.

every new years felt like a stab to the chest, the memory faded over time but of course it was never gone. that was the woman who shaped your identity, who taught you what loving somebody actually meant. forgetting was impossible—all because you loved her. all because she was your first, all because she was the reason you felt even a sliver of comfort in your fake, dollhouse of a life.

where was that same comfort when your mother arranged for you to marry a man? a wealthy man, sure, but it wasn’t ellie. ellie made you feel wealthy in a way that wasn’t financial, you felt rich because you had the best girlfriend in the history of the universe. this random man was nothing to you, the feeling was mutual. that nothingness for him continued even when you had your beautiful daughter. but you loved her, even if she was created from such a cold, heartless man.

in a picture, your life looked so perfect. you had a rich husband and a beautiful daughter, what more could you want? but it wasn’t perfect, not when you weren’t loved, not when your so called husband was running off with other women anyways—not that you cared, but it just highlighted how fucked up your life really was. you didn’t want much, it’s not like you wanted the world. you just wanted the love of your life back, the only person on this earth who actually cared about you wasn’t there. you didn’t even get to go to college, your life was a living hell. you didn’t get to pursue the one thing you wanted besides ellie, you had absolutely nothing besides your daughter.

ellie’s life wasn’t much better, even if she had the freedom you didn’t have. she was with a woman named dina, the two of them were raising a baby together. but when ellie lost her adoptive father, things went downhill fast. she wasn’t the same woman, she couldn’t sleep or eat or even function. she started partaking in self sabotaging habits like drinking and drugs. she never took any of her anger out on dina, but she still couldn’t take it anymore.

dina made the hard decision to break up with ellie, it wasn’t going well and she had to do what was best for her son, jj. ellie understood, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. she still visited dina and jj sometimes when she was well, but it didn’t make her feel any less lonely. she was all by herself, stuck in an empty house with empty bottles.

she knew she was hurting everyone around her, but she was so stuck in that hole. that hole of depression and loneliness that isolation caused. that hole was almost impossible to escape alone, that’s why isolation is such an issue when you’re depressed. usually when she was drunk and hazy, crying on the couch in an empty house, her thoughts would drift back to you. they’re drift to that night where she had to just walk away, regretting everything she did. even if it was for the best, it hurt. in her dark moments, you were always there. but where were you now?

so, again, how did you get here? how did you manage to find yourself standing face to face with your first love, how did you manage to look her in the eyes? it was some sort of new year’s eve party at a park, people were celebrating and partying. once again, it felt like a fresh start for everybody but you. your friends dragged you along so you wouldn’t be trapped in your house on new year’s eve. you left your bastard of a husband to babysit your daughter while you left to go have fun—or at least try to.

ellie was here on her own accord. new year’s eve was so hard now, she figured forming more positive memories around it would he beneficial. but when she saw you, everything changed. it was a like a switch in her mind just flipped, was she hallucinating? she didn’t recall taking any hallucinogens, did someone slip one in her drink? she wouldn’t put it past her if she was hallucinating you, considering you were always on her mind. perhaps the lack of sleep and stress was getting to her, because this couldn’t be real.

so she stood there, her slightly veiny hands gripping her drink tightly. she was wearing wearing a brown, leather jacket with slight fur or sherpa on the insides and collar. her jeans were a pale, washed out color—this was an outfit joel would usually wear, as if that was comforting her in any way. her expression was wide eyes, her jaw slightly agape. so many feelings rushed through her body at that moment, feelings she was trying so hard to forget.

you were just as shocked, your drink falling out of your hands and shattering on the concrete. was this seriously happening? you were in a tight, purple, silk dress. it wasn’t too short, but it rested on your thighs nicely. your outfit screamed class and wealth, which wasn’t exactly wrong. the pearls and endless jewelry adorning your body further pushed that idea.

for awhile you just stared, neither of you speaking first, what was there to say? this was the woman you were yearning for the past 7 years of your hellish life, the woman who started everything for you. this was the woman who showed you what it felt like to be loved, the woman you dreamed of finding again. how was this so..normal? in your mind, she was across the damn world—but she was just right here. you dreamed of finding her again, and now you did—in such a strange setting.

ellie stared back, the urge to go chug alcohol until she blacked out was overwhelming. that seemed to be a more prominent urge as of recently. she didn’t wanna feel those emotions again, but she couldn’t help but feel relief. you looked okay, you seemed to be in a good situation which was relieving to her worrying mind.

a good situation—in the sense you looked healthy.

“ellie?” you questioned, your voice soft as it cut through the deafening silence between you two. ellie didn’t respond at first, her mouth was open in preparation to say something—but it was hard.

“hey..” she managed, her tone soft and laced with nervousness. but somehow it didn’t feel awkward, simply speaking to her again just felt so natural.

“what are you doing here? i didn’t—“ you let out a. shaky breath to which she noticed, “i didn’t think i’d see you here.”

ellie let out a small scoff, her lips curled into a soft smile. it was barely visible, but she used to always smile around you. your heart sunk, some sort of noise lodged in your throat. “just..drinking, i guess. what’re you doing here?”

you let out a small laugh, your manufactured hands fidgeting in front of you. “we’re in the same boat.” you said smoothly—or at least you tried to say smoothly.

“how have you been?“ she asked, her head tilted to the side a bit. she held her drink in her hands, unable to even think about it. all she could think about was how pretty you looked in that dress. was it too soon to say she wanted you back? too soon was bullshit, shes wanted you back ever since that night.

there was silence on your end. you couldn’t lie to her, but how could you tell her how much of a mess your life was? yet you did it anyways, as if you believed she could save you. “i..uh, i have a daughter now..” you started, clearing your throat. “but i didn’t get to go to college.”

ellie’s eyes were widened, a daughter? that hurt, that hurt a lot. did that mean you were currently with somebody? in her mind she still had a chance to get you back, this was a very defeating loss. but she tried not to assume, she didn’t know your situation yet. she pushed that feeling away, especially when she saw how troubled you looked. hearing that you didn’t get to go to college upset her, mainly because she knew psychology was a huge passion of yours. she instantly knew it was your mother’s doing.

“a daughter, huh? congrats.” she praised, the smile on her lips was much bigger now. she let it fade a bit so she could address the college topic more seriously, “why didn’t you go to school?”

you swallowed thickly, clearing your throat to mask the nerves, “my mom arranged me to marry my current husband, so..” you mumbled, “so i wasn’t able to go to college.”

this seemed to piss ellie off a lot, you could tell by the ‘subtle’ way she tightened her grip on her drink. but it was understandable, this situation was absolutely ridiculous. maybe it was ellie’s natural hatred for your mother because of that one new year’s eve night, but she was livid.

“are you fucking kidding me?” she questioned in disbelief, her voice was laced with anger and maybe something like disappointment. she knew how smart you were, it was upsetting to see somebody with such big dreams and ambitions trapped in a life they never wanted. “wow, i’m so sorry.” she rubbed the back of her neck softly, unable to really emphasize her sympathy. but you understood, you understood the ways ellie expressed herself and emotions even after so long.

you offered her a small smile, trying to be reassuring—if possible. “it’s alright, i’m happy to have my daughter in my life.” you explained, which was definitely true, “how have you been?”

now it was ellie’s turn to be silent, and of course you noticed the mood shift immediately. she brought her glass up to her lips and took a sip, her eyes didn’t leave yours for a single second. she took two sips before sighing and holding the glass in front of her. she was acting like a husband who was sick of their wife and kids or something.

“ah, not great. joel actually passed away a few months ago.” she explained, trying to keep her whole demeanor and voice level. but it was hard, you could hear the way her voice cracked in vulnerability when she spoke his name.

you were genuinely shocked by this, upon doing the math in your head, you realized joel was probably around 55 years old. that was young, how utterly heartbreaking. you had a lot of good memories with joel, even if him and ellie didn’t get along all the time—he accepted you two. he was the biggest supporter when the two of you broke up, but you didn’t know that. you didn’t know that he also tried to contact you and check up on you. but your mother stopped that, evil witch.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry, ellie.” you offered, immediately stepping closer to her and rubbing her arm comfortingly—it was like how she comforted you on the night she left you. rubbing your shoulders like you were a fragile work of art. it seemed to work, because she perked up immediately. her eyes fell on the hand that was now caressing her arm, the feeling was so natural but so distant. she missed this, she missed how softly you touched things when you cared. especially when you used to touch her, you were so careful with her even if it was unnecessary

you didn’t even realize you were touching her until she perked up, touching her was like a reflex even after all these years. she was still your soulmate, even if you hardly knew each other—your souls were tied. they were tied in the way that couldn’t be separated, even if you were on different ends of the earth. even if you were trapped in shitty marriages or broken relationships. soul ties didn’t break that easily.

“thank you, i appreciate it.” she replied, her expression was soft. oh, you missed that expression so much. that was almost how she looked at you that night on your balcony. new year’s eve was a cursed day. “i uh..i had a girlfriend but we just broke up. grief changes people—me.” she added, though she didn’t talk about jj for some reason. that was too much to explain, so much to explain and so little time.

your expression was somber, you were really hoping ellie would be well off. maybe that was just the bad stuff, maybe she was well off besides these more recent events. “i get it, just let yourself heal, okay? what about college, did you still go?”

the change in topic seemed to lift her mood a bit, you always used to have that effect on her. “yeah, i’m actually trying to be an astrophysicist or a cosmologist.” she explained, a soft smile painted on her lips now. “it’s been hard with so much shit happening, but i’m managing.

this pleased you, that was actually really great to hear. ellie had always been passionate about space and the history of the universe, so the fact she was trying to pursue her passion made you really happy for her. “that’s amazing, ellie!” you congratulated her, you had a big smile on your face.

ellie laughed in response, your enthusiasm was infectious. she missed that about you, how you could light up anybody’s mood from simply existing. it was because you were genuinely a good person, because you cared for people in a way that was so deep and so true.

“thanks, maybe i should talk your ear off again like i used to. i’m learning a lot of new things, you know?” she joked, but there was a genuine undertone. she wanted nothing more than to talk to you, she wanted to build something with you again. she wanted to learn about your life and be in it again, her life was so dull and lonely without you.

your smile faded a bit, though it wasn’t because you reacted badly. you stared at her, stared at the woman who you had longed for every waking moment for the last 7 years. you longed for her in your dreaming hours too, but just the waking ones. you smiled again, though it was more genuine.

“i’d like that, i’d like that a lot.” you replied, it was affectionate in a way. you wanted nothing more than to chat with her, curse this life of yours. you didn’t want to be a stay at home wife, you didn’t want to be with that bastard you call a husband; you wanted ellie. that’s all you wanted, you felt like that would fix everything.

ellie’s smile widened at this, it was like when you first took your relationship further back then. only this was different, this felt so forbidden in a way and so familiar.

your hands slid down from her arm and you grabbed her hand, holding it between both of yours. it felt like that moment on that balcony 7 years ago, when you kissed and held hands and watched the fireworks. there were fireworks booming around the two of you, but you paid them no mind. the colors shot beautifully into the dark sky, but just like last time, ellie was far prettier.

ellie was watching you, she watched as if everything around her was a white void. she almost immediately gripped your hand, the look on her face was so sincere and genuine. it was so full of affection and love, the affection and love you didn’t dare forget. the love that was your first, the love that taught you what it meant to love. the love that made you feel like you were the only one in the room, in the world, in the universe.

“you look so pretty tonight.” she coaxed, you could tell she meant every word. it was like those words were pulled straight out of her heart and put on a platter just for you. all you could think about was that night again, when she called you pretty as she held your hand and kissed you.

you could feel your heart flutter, all those feelings from last time came back to life in that moment. all the wishing and dreaming and yearning, all of it seemed worth it now. ellie was worth anything and everything, the fact you were apart for so long only made you want her more. you would figure out a way to be with her again, you’d do absolutely anything. you’d take control of your life for once, you’d live your dreams with the girl you loved and go to fucking college. you’d get a house, let your daughter meet her, and just be happy. this moment was the boost you needed—if things went well, that is.

your eyes were slightly glazed over, fighting back tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. you squeezed her hands so tight it must’ve been painful, but it was as if you were let her go then you’d never find her again. as if she wouldn’t find her way back to you, as if you wouldn’t be so lucky next time. your expression was sincere as well, that loving look that spoke volumes of how you felt. it spoke the words your soul and heart couldn’t.

“ellie” you started, trying your best not to cry like you did that new year’s eve 7 years ago,

“let’s try again.”

tagsss! <3 @eriiwaii @valeisaslut @haithone @usuck

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt.10]

This part is written for @wisteriavines to 'Bad for Business' by Sabrina Carpenter

Every time Tim thinks there's no further extent of trouble to possibly push, Danny is right there to prove him wrong.

Sitting with him at Potions was one thing. Getting involved with his exploring escapades was another - the Room of Requirement was truly a marvel even if Tim had no use for it. Yet. Because he might have a few ideas about it for later. Getting to know the Weasley twins was on a whole different level: the duo, even if Gryffindor, were simultaneously the best and the worst kind of acquaintances to have. Between them, Lee Jordan - another Gryffindor prankster in training - and Steph and Danny, Tim was really not sure how they've not been expelled yet.

Then, there was Danny's weird sort of friendship with all the ghosts in the castle; they seemed to tolerate the boy far more than they did any other students. Tim decidedly didn't want to know why. Not because he thought Danny wouldn't explain it, no, he totally would, but Tim feared he would go permanently gray or lose his mind afterward, so he didn't risk it.

That's all not to mention Danny's ongoing battle of wits with Professor Snape and his 'purely educational' visits to Professor Kettleburn and Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwats' Gamekeeper. Tim had a strong suspicion that Danny used them both as a free pass into the Forbidden Forest, but, again, what Tim doesn't know he can't lay awake at night and obsessively worry about.

They were really much too different. Danny was all sunshine laughter when Tim liked to keep a two feet radius distance around him. Danny was determined to befriend absolutely everyone in the castle when Tim was perfectly fine spending his time in the quiet company of books. Danny liked to experiment, Tim stuck to the instructions in the book. Danny was more often serving detention after his classes than not, Tim hadn't had one ever since he stepped foot in Hogwarts.

He could go on, but, on the other end of it all, Tim couldn't deny there were also plenty of things similar between them.

They both liked to learn. Not in the nerdy way Tim's seen Ravenclaws do it, seeking knowledge for the sake of knowledge itself; they researched whatever was interesting, diving head-first into any and every topic that sparked their curiosity. They held family above all else - House rivalry be damned, Tim was not ignoring Jason and Dick when they came to check on him, and he cheered for the eldest Wayne during the Quiddich matches. Or, well, he did when Dick was not playing against Slytherin, that is. Danny's sister, Jasmine, was also on the Gryffindor Quiddich team, and Tim has seen the boy cheer for her despite the different Houses as well.

They were both not shy to break the rules - yes, Tim hadn't had one detention for it yet, but that was just because he was loads better at not getting caught. Wayne household was a great training ground for it. Danny, by the looks of it, rarely bothered to cover up his tracks. A Hufflepuff trait, Tim supposed - he took all the credit for what he's done, good or bad.

In any case, over the last four months, all those differences and similarities led to them being far more than simple partners in class or acquaintances. They were friends, and, given Danny's attitude and bluntness, Tim never bothered to hide the fact.

And yet, when on the first day after Christmas break, Danny just sits down beside him at breakfast, Tim drops his fork.

Because, and Tim does look around to make sure, even if he is sure, they are at the Slytherin table.

Cassius stares at them both from across the table, Flint clicks his tongue so loudly that Tim is pretty sure even people at the next table can hear him, and Pucey gives the intruder a vicious glare. But Manson grins like a maniac and immediately switches her seat from opposite of Tim to right on Danny's other side, so it's not all bad. Well, Tim sincerely hopes so.

"Morning," Danny greets everyone, either not noticing the stares or ignoring them completely, which is, honestly, a rather impressive skill. If there's anything Hufflepuffs are better at than every other House, it's their impenetrable cheerful attitude.

"Morning," Tim echoes, when nobody else does. Samantha snorts and elbows Danny from the other side.

"Was it just me, or you haven't graced anyone with presents yet?" She asks in lieu of a greeting, and, actually, that's a good point. Tim had spent his Yule break at Waynes, and he knew Danny wasn't staying at the castle either, even though Sam did. She argued that she didn't want to spend any more time alone with her parents than absolutely necessary. Thinking back to the offensively pink room that Tim still sees in his nightmares sometimes, he thinks he understands why.

In any case, Tim, as the dutiful young Heir he was, has sent Danny's gift - a limited edition potions book he shamelessly took from Drake Manor second library - to him back on Christmas Eve. And hasn't received anything back, aside from a new practice snitch, but that one was signed as 'from Fenton family', not 'from Danny' specifically. So he was also wondering if Danny was saving his own gifts for after break, when he can give them in person.

"Ah, seeing right through me," Danny chuckles and puts his bag on his lap, rummaging through it. "Here you go, now please stop bothering me about it," he rather unceremoniously shoves a poorly wrapped, brown paper package right into Samantha's arms. And then he turns to Tim, his smile brighter than the sun itself, and places something cylindrical, wrapped in cloth and tied with a blue ribbon on the table in front of him, "And this one's for you."

Tim puts his knife and fork down and picks up the present, weighing it in his hand. He's grown to like this kind of game that the Waynes taught him: rather than tearing the wrapping open at the first chance, you take time to appreciate the gift, trying to guess what's inside just by the feel, weight and sound.

It's hard and a little heavy - metal or glass rather than wood. It doesn't make any sounds even when Tim brings it closer to his ear and shakes it a little, watching Danny's eyebrows rise in amusement.

"Is it some sort of container?" He takes a guess, and Danny gives him a slightly startled, but still nice laugh, his eyes sparkling with something warm and maybe excited.

"Yeah, you can say that," he agrees, resting his chin on his palm and leaning on the table. Manson makes a few delighted screeches behind him, but the boy pays her zero mind, focused on Tim.

Tim eyes him carefully, "Promise me it's not going to bite my fingers off or explode in green goo," he demands because, with Daniel Fenton, one can never be too careful. But Danny easily draws a cross over his heart and smiles again, "I swear it's nothing that will cause temporary or permanent damage."

That's as good as it's going to get, Tim guesses, and sets the present back on the table, untying the ribbon. He is great at keeping a straight face, but his fingers are almost literally itching for him to find out what the gift is, and he is barely able to keep his impatience at bay at this point.

It takes him less than three seconds to finally unwrap his late Yule gift, and when he takes the cloth away, it unravels... a jar.

A plain glass jar, sealed with a cork on top and full of... mist? fog?

Tim tilts his head to the side and throws a puzzled look at Danny, but the boy keeps on smiling. Then, he reaches for the jar and taps on the cork on top; not in any kind of pattern, just tap-tap-tap, like he's trying to wake up whatever it is inside the glass.

The mist reacts immediately. It swirls and moves, shimmering in all the colors of blue and silver, and Tim, who still keeps one hand on the jar, suddenly feels the glass becoming warm under his palm.

"Remember you told me how it's always kind of chilly in your common room?" Danny asks from beside him, "I know it makes sense - you're all literally living under the lake - but I thought it might get cold at night, so, here you go, a night light and a portable heater in one jar. No need to recharge or renew charms on it or anything, it's entirely self-sufficient." He sounds proud of it, and Tim thinks that he knows why: this must have taken a lot of effort to make, especially since they are both, well, first-years. Tim's warming charm lasts a little more than two minutes, and he is great at Charms. Danny's warming charm barely works at all.

But this jar is actually giving off a constant, slightly pulsing under Tim's palm heat - kind of like a heartbeat - and the swirls of silver inside are mesmerizing. Before today, Tim thought that Jason's night light was the coolest, showing the replica of the actual night sky on his ceiling. But this is so much better.

And so much warmer. Tim doesn't like the cold, and Hogwarts, being a giant stone castle built way before heating was invented, is not the most comfortable place in winter. Of course, there are loads of charms, spells and runic enchantments that keep the place from freezing, but Tim can't help but shiver sometimes, when the chill still makes its way all the way into his bones.

But the jar in his hands is giving off a steady, soft wave of warmth, and Tim wraps his cold fingers around it, slowly breathing out. It's perfect. Totally worth being a late gift.

He turns to Danny, gratitude on the tip of his tongue, but stops short when the boy meets his eyes. For a moment, Tim thinks that the shimmering blues inside the jar are of the exact same color as Danny's eyes.

But then he blinks, and the illusion is gone.

Although, the warmth stays, and, maybe, it's coming not only from the jar in his hands but also from somewhere deep inside his chest. He can't tell, since wherever it's coming from, it's pulsing in the same, steady rhythm.

"What is it made of?" He asks, bringing the jar closer to his chest.

Danny blinks, seemingly taken by surprise, and looks to the side for a moment, "Ah, um, it's-"

"Will-o-wisp," Manson suddenly cuts in, leaning over Danny's shoulder, her eyes on the jar and her face strangely pinched, "That's a chunk of a ghost's soul you're holding there."

Tim's eyebrows shoot up. And, judging by the sudden pause in the lull of the conversations nearby, not only his. Danny's cheeks become red, which, in contrast with his pale skin, looks like someone used too much blush on him.

"Err, yeah, it is," he confirms awkwardly, "Don't worry, though, the ghost consented, and it's safe, and I, well, I kind of done this before, so it's all fine and you can't return it anyway," he rambles, picking up his bag and standing up, his cheeks, ears and neck still looking like they are a moment away from spontaneously setting on fire. "Merry late Yule, I hope you like it, bye!" And, without giving Tim a chance to reply or react, Danny is already running out of the Great Hall.

Tim turns his confused gaze to Manson. The girl, apparently paying no mind to her friend's weird behavior, is back to assembling a monstrous sandwich. That has no meat or eggs in it, now that Tim is looking closely.

"You're vegan?" He asks before the thought even registers, and he expects her to snap and hiss, just like she always does. But, surprisingly, she doesn't. Samantha Manson only gives him a considering side-glance and shrugs.

"I am. Got a problem with that?" She doesn't look like she is trying to pick a fight. Or, well, not actively, at least.

"No," Tim shrugs and goes back to his own breakfast.

The jar full of a ghost's soul is still pressed closely to his stomach and feels like it's slowly warming him from the inside out.

Tim reminds himself to thank Danny for it later, when he is not running away from the Slytherin table in panic.

—☆—☆—☆—

Breakfast at the Great Hall vibes:

The jar:

[Picrew]

I know it's technically their first day back at school, so they should be having classes after breakfast that day, but when I started writing, I planned for this scene to happen over break, hence, have Tim, Danny and Sam in their more casual wear:

Tim is cold, Danny doodles on his jeans and likes muggle fashion. Also, in the original scene, Sam was off to go to the greenhouses next, hence the overalls and the shirt that she doesn't care for if it gets dirty.

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

Honestly, when I first heard the song, I immediately went 'that's Tim struggling to not feel his immense feelings for Danny', and I was in the process of planning my Hogwarts AU at the time, so it kind of spiraled. It might not be as in line with the song lyrics and vibes as my other game pieces, but god knows I'm in love with this bit. Also, since we are here at this topic, I'd like to say I'm so very grateful to @wisteriavines-side blog for their literal immediate reblogs of whatever I write, it always fills me with warm feelings all over when I see your reblogs. Your side blog is one of the few that I've grown to recognize at first glance and, just, thank you. It's a little thing, but it means a lot <3

Anyway, notes!

It's January now, just past the Christmas break - as you might have guessed from the text lol - and the prankster team has been made fully aware of each other. By that, I mean the twins (the sneaky but loud and boisterous as we all know them), Steph (the innocent who is always incredibly hard to catch in the act), and Danny (pulls the weirdest shit that is technically not against the rules most times and always admits it was him when asked). They rarely ever team up - and everyone prays they don't, it's a recipe for disaster - but they also hold a fair bit of rule-breaking solidarity among them, never ratting each other out.

By this point, Danny has put a pause on his Hogwarts exploration and switched to the grounds around the castle. Everyone is of an opinion he is going to choose Care for Magical Creatures as his elective when the time comes.

Yes, that jar holds a piece of Danny's soul. Yes, Sam knows it - she is great at connecting the dots, and she knows Danny's secret. This is also the moment when she realizes that Danny likes Tim in a very not-friendly manner. She is going to come to terms with it rather quickly, though, because in her mind, that means Tim is no competition for her. He is never going to take her title of 'Danny's best friend', so why bother fighting with him?

On the topic of presents, Danny got Sam a whole bunch of poisonous mushrooms that she kept obsessing over when she came to visit the Febton house - specifically, their garden that's full of all kinds of odd things that don't grow anywhere else. Maddie and Jack refused to give an eleven-year-old a fungae that could quite literally kill her if touched without any protection, but Danny has no such reservations, and he is pretty sure Sam is cautious enough (it's not the first time she is handling something deathly poisonous, not that any adults know that).

[ <- part 9 | part 11 ? ]

P.S. a lot of shit happened in my life recently, so, as of now, this series is on hiatus.

[paradoxspaceheater]

devotionshipping archetypes

lord/general

intimacy: low / grand acts of devotion: high / power imbalance: moderate

often the lord and general rarely see each other, although they may send regular letters. alternatively, the general may instead be a captain of the guard, and work very closely with the lord, potentially overlapping with bodyguard/charge or knight/princess. the relationship can either go the direction of a highly favored general granted copious rewards by their lord, or a quietly loyal general who lays down their life in service.

often both are men, although certainly not always.

similar dynamics: knight/princess, bodyguard/charge, boss/right hand man

monarch/advisor

intimacy: low / grand acts of devotion: moderate / power imbalance: moderate

the trust of it all... there's an interesting dynamic here where the advisor has a significant amount of power over the monarch, with the ability to influence their thoughts on essentially any topic, however they retain that power only so long as they remain in the monarch's trust and favor. there is a forbidden aspect as well, as an affair between the two will certainly hurt both parties' reputations.

usually both are men, with the monarch more likely to be a woman or nonbinary in some way than the advisor.

similar dynamics: boss/right hand man

boss/right hand man

intimacy: moderate / grand acts of devotion: moderate / power imbalance: low

these two work in very close proximity, and usually understand each other intimately. the right hand man may have some power in their own right, and can often act in the name of the boss without specific orders. the power imbalance is relatively lower than other dynamics, but there is still a marked difference.

despite the name, this dynamic is very gender neutral. if it is m/f, usually it is a male boss and a right hand woman.

similar dynamics: lord/general, monarch/advisor

bodyguard/charge

intimacy: moderate / grand acts of devotion: high / power imbalance: moderate

this one is sort of "shrödinger's intimacy". there is a certain amount of professionalism necessary from a bodyguard, and the charge has to on some level be willing to let their bodyguard sacrifice themself to save them, but the nature of the relationship is that they work very closely, and the bodyguard may witness the charge in vulnerable situations. they will probably both be repressed about this.

the bodyguard is almost always a man, while the charge can be of any gender with little preference.

similar dynamics: knight/princess, lord/general

lady/maid

intimacy: very high / grand acts of devotion: low / power imbalance: high

oh the intimacy,,, despite the lack of grand acts of devotion, this dynamic more than makes up for it with many small acts of devotion. the most intimate part of the maid's job of course is helping the lady dress, preparing them for the day, or taking them apart for rest. probably the easiest dynamic to turn spicy, as undressing is the name of the game and they usually have a great deal of privacy together.

as the name indicates, this dynamic is almost always two women—it is not that men cannot have personal servants, but rather that most people are more interested in the person who helps a lady into her corsets and ballgowns and elaborate hairstyles than a person who helps a gentleman to button his waistcoat or tie his cravat. because this dynamic is usually in a historical setting, the characters are almost always cisgender or attempting to pass as such.

knight/princess

intimacy: low / grand acts of devotion: high / power imbalance: high

the classic courtly love forbidden romance! the yearning... the knight wearing the princess's favor... the knowledge that the princess either already is married or will eventually have to marry someone else... sometimes the knight will fight a duel for the princess's honor. impeccable.

often m/f, with a male knight and a female princess, or f/f. sometimes knight/prince will show up, although that can overlap with lord/general.

similar dynamics: lord/general, bodyguard/charge

god/devotee

intimacy: varying / grand acts of devotion: very high / power imbalance: high

depending on the nature of the god in question the dynamic can vary greatly, from a distant god that loves from afar to a personal god who answers every prayer. usually includes a lifespan imbalance as well, although the devotee can be made immortal through various means.

generally gender ambivalent, m/f examples tend to have the woman as the goddess. probably the most common dynamic for nonbinary characters to show up, due to the nature of gods.

[marigoldstars78]

Dungeon Meshi Greek Mythology Au (except its ideas from a pedantic nerd who's too into minor deities)

Laios:

- Reincarnation of Typhon, but completely unaware of it. Golden boy who's obsessed with the legends of greek monsters doesn't realize he's technically one of them and is also kinda fated to destroy the gods...

Falin:

- Historian who, whilst trying to document multiple monsters in the local area with her brother, accidentally gets a greek dragon killed. Much like Cadmus, she gets partially turned into one. Laios is trying to find her a cure.

Marcille (couldn't decide which one i liked more):

- Claims she's the daughter of Poseidon, but seems oddly in tune with necromancy magic and old magic. Turns out, she really is a daughter of Poseidon! Just, a former incarnation of him. A REALLY REALLY old one. Mycenaean Poseidon. I.e. back when he was an UNDERWORLD god. This also makes Marcille old as hell, tho she never shows it.

OR

- Spark of flame from the fire Prometheus stole. Filled with an insatiable hunger for knowledge that leads her to getting into issues with researching forbidden topics. This also makes Marcille old as HELL, lol.

OR

- Pupil to Asclepius, being pursued by the Furies for some reason and as such is constantly running about greece.

Of course, all versions are instantly obsessed with Falin's case, lol.

Kabru (Oh, I definitely COULDN'T pick a good one for Kabru):

- Son of Nemesis. Takes pride in gathering the secrets and reporting hubristic mortals to his mom, until he learns the secret behind Laios' origins and now has to desperately HIDE that secret from his mom.

OR

- Long-Time descendent of Odysseus, but took all the wrong lessons from his journey. Now wants his own personal tale to give himself a bit of glory. Just as clever and ruthless as his ancestor, but "modern" life has mellowed his personality a bit. Sees Laios' and Falin's plight as a chance for his own odyssey.

OR

- Son of Aphrodite, but specifically her aspect as the spartan war god. Incredibly good looking but also incredibly shrewd in combat. Feels a deep fear of Laios for some reason while Laios feels a deep obsession for Kabru, and these conflicting feelings make them absolutely obsessed with each other.

OR

- Undead soldier from the Trojan war... on the side of the Trojans. As such, not the biggest fan of current greece and the status quo. Sees Laios as a chance to upend everything and get a little bit of payback for the wrongdoings all those years ago, but Laios much rather doesn't want to pursue all this Typhon stuff Kabru keeps talking about and much rather wants to spend time with him :D

As you can see, Kabru is still very much obsessed with Laios.

[astra-ravana]

The Witch With Black Hands

In witchcraft and various mystical traditions, black hands can carry a deep symbolism, often related to both personal transformation and spiritual or magickal power. The interpretation of this imagery can differ based on context, cultural background, and the specific branch of witchcraft or spiritual practice. Below are some key meanings and symbolic interpretations of black hands or fingers in witchcraft:

• Shadow Work and Transformation: Black, as a color, often symbolizes the shadow or the unconscious aspects of oneself—those parts that are hidden, repressed, or not fully understood. Black in witchcraft may represent the practitioner's engagement with shadow work—the process of exploring, integrating, and transforming these hidden parts of the self. It symbolizes working with the darker aspects of the psyche or confronting personal fears, traumas, and unresolved emotions and the transformation of inner darkness into power and understanding.

• Power, Control, and Command: In many forms of witchcraft, black is a color that signifies power, command over forces, and the wielding of magickal influence. The hands are considered tools of action and manifestation, so black hands or fingers might symbolize a witch’s ability to manipulate or direct magickal energies. It's a symbol of a powerful witch who is not afraid to work with potent and sometimes dangerous forces. Black hands represent someone who commands magick through their will, skill, and knowledge of the craft.

• Protection and Banishment: In some traditions, black hands or fingers may be linked to the practice of banishing or warding off negative energies, spirits, or harmful influences. This can be especially true in protective magick or in witchcraft traditions that embrace defensive spells. The black color could indicate that the witch is using protective magick to shield themselves from harmful entities or energies. It can also be a sign of someone who is skilled in banishing unwanted forces through magickal means, using their "black" power to shield or defend.

• The Occult and Forbidden Knowledge: Black hands are sometimes associated with those who delve into the occult, working with forbidden or hidden knowledge. It can imply that the witch has reached a level of power where they are willing to interact with the darker, more secretive aspects of magick—often things not accessible to novices or the uninitiated. It symbolizes someone who has crossed a threshold in their spiritual or magickal journey, engaging with deeper, potentially dangerous aspects of the craft. It can also signify that the witch is willing to confront taboo topics or practices that others may avoid.

• Death and Rebirth: Black is commonly linked with death in spiritual contexts, though not in a purely negative sense. In witchcraft, it can symbolize endings and beginnings, the death of an old phase in life, and the potential for rebirth or renewal. Black hands or fingers could symbolize that the witch is actively involved in cycles of death and rebirth, either through their own spiritual process or through working with death energies or spirits. It represents mastery over cycles of life and death—working with endings to bring about new growth. They can also represent the witch’s ability to invoke transformation not only for themselves but also for others.

• Unseen Work or Hidden Magick: Black hands could symbolize the hidden or secretive work that is done in the shadows, away from the eyes of others. This could involve working silently, behind the scenes, to influence events or bring about results without drawing attention to oneself. It signifies unseen magickal work, possibly in areas such as binding, protection, or manipulation—the witch’s hand in these actions remains hidden from others. It can also indicate stealth magick, where results are achieved quietly and subtly.

• Association with Dark Deities or Spirits: In some traditions, witches work with deities, spirits, or entities that are associated with the darker aspects of the spiritual realm—gods of death, destruction, or the underworld. Black hands could represent a witch who has made contact with these entities or is actively engaged in practices that involve their power. It also symbolizes a connection to the underworld or dark spirits and represents working with deities or forces that are associated with death, destruction, or the unknown.

The imagery of black hands or fingers in witchcraft represents a multifaceted symbol of power, shadow work, transformation, and mastery over hidden aspects of magick. It often points to a witch who is unafraid to work with dark forces and has gained the knowledge and experience necessary to wield such energies effectively. Whether through personal transformation, spiritual protection, or working with darker magickal forces, black hands symbolize the witch’s deep connection to unseen and powerful forces in the world of the occult.

[avatarofthearchives]

Being a Magnus Archive fan is just consistently thinking about miscellaneous things that would make fun statement topics. So, here's a few ideas that I came up with:

As someone who collects candles, I think a Desolation statement involving a hobby candle maker could be interesting. The plot could be that the candle maker's candles keep lighting themselves, and then end up rolling off the counter, tilting over, or having the flame grow unnaturally high until it almost reaches the ceiling. All incidents end in something extremely important to the statement giver being burned in the flames of their own creation.

I think a "Bloody Mary" game gone wrong would be an interesting statement too. Maybe the statement giver could have played the game during a drunken game with friends and when they say her name a third time they see just a flash of a face. It's gone before the statement giver can even make out the features, but to them that's the worst part. The plot of this statement is that the statement givers gone mad trying to prove that they saw something and that there's something more to the urban legend. I would corelate this statement to The Eye since it combines forbidden knowledge (calling upon a ghost just to see if it exists or not) with watching a mirror.

This one is admittedly based on my childhood experience but: A statement giver used to search for roly-polies (or otherwise called pill bugs) with their friends as a kid. As time goes on the statement giver forgets all about it, but then one day they find a roly-poly at work and all the memories come flooding back. They get caught so up in their childhood nostalgia that they decide to go looking for roly-polies and quickly become obsessed with finding them so they can pretend like they're back in those warm summer days of childhood again. This statement would be related to The Corruption, both because of the bugs, and the corruption of nostalgia.