maggstar · 2 years ago
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Finished playing Plague Tale Requiem and sobbing tears rn. I love games with amazing stories, but these ones always hit home. 😭
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ciel-bell · 10 months ago
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rosalind de saint-coquille (+ a tiny aria)
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lemonicia-36 · 2 years ago
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The difference between amicia and lucas when looking at the swarms of rats circling 😂
Ordinary people would run away or even not want to look at it for long 🏃. While Lucas just stood observing and researching 🧍‍♂️😂
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can-of-pringles · 2 years ago
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If tlou Ellie fans are looking for another awesome girl video game character who is honestly a total badass, might I recommend Amicia De Rune from A Plague Tale?
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x-nephophile-x · 2 years ago
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"You know, it's not important if I die..."
"What? Why would you say something like that?"
"Magister Vaudin told me that I'm going to die."
"Oh God, no, no Hugo, that won't happen."
"Its okay. Don't be sad. I'm happy to be here."
THIS CONVERSATION HAPPENS IN CHAPTER 8. *EIGHT!*
The ending is hinted at as early as that, and yet, we nor Amicia probably even considered the thought, the possibility. And replaying this game makes it sadder. Listening to this lovely little boy tell me not to be sad, because his time here was more than he would've dreamed while he was locked away in the estate in Guyenne. And look at all the happiness he got to know. All the adventure. All the soft things in life. He knew happiness while he was here, despite the hardships.
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mikus-coining-blog · 2 years ago
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would it be okay to take inspo from the emoji list to make my own? /gq
Yes ,, of course ~ !! I don " t mind at all ~ !! /gen
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the-californicationist · 9 days ago
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Cali's Kinktober: Day 17
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Kinktober Masterlist vox nihili - "voiceless" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader Kinks > demons, face fucking, come inflation, dubcon Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.
As an experienced witch, you decide to summon a powerful demon because you need his help, but the only way you can get his energy is by swallowing his come. 
Warning: some dubcon, some actual goofiness, some come inflation; you know the drill. Don't like it? Don't read it!
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You were prepared this time. You had bought the best supplies from very reputable sources. You’d mapped out the star charts. You’d articulated the spleens. Everything was in its rightful place. You were summoning a demon tonight, or you were hanging up your grimoire for good.
Ever since you’d discovered you had found a true Book of the Beyond, you’d practiced with it. You’d managed small things - imps, fairies, the odd incubus here and there - but, you wanted power. And true power came at a price. You had made a sacrifice or two over the years, and if you were being honest, sacrificial chicken fried up in a pan just like the real thing. So, it never went to waste. But, it just wasn’t cutting it. 
So, you switched over to blood magic. Now, as you sat on your wooden floor, surrounded by candles and runes and attuned crystals, you took your blade in your hands and cut your palm to drip your own blood onto the bright white, chalk pentagram in the middle of the magic circle you’d created. 
This was going to work. It had to. You were going to be the most powerful witch in the whole wide… wait.
What is that?
Your blood had created a small portal, and through it came a huge, dark hand. 
Out of the floor in your den, a huge Arch Demon crawled into your space, steaming from the heat of Hell, snarling with vicious fangs, and yet looking like the most handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. 
When he finally made it to the surface, you looked down at his legs; the furry, cloven hooves making ruts in your hardwoods. His tail swished back and forth, and he held a black, iron trident in his right hand. He was fully nude, his body carved from marble, nearly seven feet tall, with black, twisting horns that sat low on his head. His chest was broad and well-muscled, and his belly rounded right down into a swinging, engorged, uncut dick that was as big as your arm… soft. 
“Hail!” You said, repeating your memorized mantra like you were supposed to, “Demon of the Underdark, Ruler of Great and Powerful Evil, I have summ–”
“Wha’s goin’ on in here, love?” The demon sounded… British?
“Well, I was reciting my mantra to summon you to this plane, my lord, just as the great tomes have des–”
“You summoned me?” He cackled, dark and deep, “Is that what this is? Oh, fuck me. Tha’s so adorable, babes.”
“Adorable? I need your powers, demon. Together, we will control the entire realm! Pray, tell me your name that I might write it in my book of magic.”
“Are you mad, love? A screw loose up there? These candles are from the department store, and I’m not sure what that is, but it’s definitely not eye of newt, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the demon chuckled, crossing his arms over his hulking chest, smiling down at you, “But, the name’s Gaz. Write it anywhere you want.”
“I just…” You felt tears spring to your eyes, trying to fight the frustration, “I always get so close to doing it right! The spells, the incantations… I even used the right runes this time. But, I still don’t have my true powers.”
“And what powers would you like to have, pet?” Gaz furrowed his brow as he looked at you, considering you with more regard, using his thumb to raise your chin up so he could see your face.
“I want to be a Master Summoner,” you sniffed, trying not to let your trembling lip give away your desperation.
“Ahh,” Gaz nodded knowingly, placing his hands on his hips, biting into his full bottom lip, “I think you’re missing a key element of your spell, babes.”
“What’s that? Please, my lord, I will do anything to know your secrets,” you prostrated yourself before him, your hands nearly touching his black hooves as you splayed yourself on the ground. 
He bent down and pulled you up to your knees, shaking his head,
“It’s no secret, love. Demons only come when they know there are souls to harvest. I’ve come for yours, sweet as it is, but if you want to attract more of my kind, you must have more souls.”
“How do I get more souls?” You asked, watching his deep brown eyes calculating and manipulating the world around him, figuring just how to get what he wanted.
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss you on your pouting lips, immediately forcing his slithering, forked tongue into your mouth, plunging through your throat, testing its depth.
You choked around its soft, writhing form, but you let him devour you, feeling yourself swell with lust between your legs. He pulled away with a pleased moan.
“I can put them in you,” Gaz purred, standing tall again with a dark look in his eyes. He reached beneath the behemoth that was his cock and fondled his heavy, melon-sized balls, “I’ve got plenty in here. Just need to make sure they stay inside your body where you can keep them safe, pretty witch.”
“Whatever you believe will work, my lord,” you peered up at him, trying to look obedient and worthy of receiving dark powers, “I am your humble servant.”
“C’mere,” he beckoned you, and you crawled on your hands and knees to kneel before him, hanging your head in deference.
Gaz used his demonic paw to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back, stretching your neck and bending it at a terrible angle. You gasped, hissing from the sudden pain. Then, he held your head in place and began to rub the oily body of his demon cock against your face, dragging it over your nose and mouth, letting the head drool across your cheek. 
“I think we should keep them in your belly, love. Are you gonna suck them out of me, or do I need to put them there myself?” His voice was a jagged growl. 
You looked up at him and stuck out your tongue, using both of your hands to massage and rub his cock all over your face, letting your tongue lick the fire and brimstone smokey taste from his shaft. You found the head at the end of his long length, and you suckled away at the shining, dripping precome that oozed from his slit. 
The only problem was, you weren’t sure how to fit this huge cock into your mouth. You made a feeble attempt at sinking his head between your cheeks, and he chuckled at you, guiding himself a little deeper, making your jaw ache from his intrusion. 
“Tha’s it, lovie. Gotta work for it, babe.”
“Mm hmm-nm,” you told him. 
“Oh, yeah? More, you say…” He winked, watching your eyes widen with concern, and he took both of his terrible fists, curled them into your hair on the back of your skull. 
Decisively, and with a steady strength, Gaz shoved his cock through your stretched lips, past your tongue, and rammed it against your soft palate, making you gag against him, your body convulsing, trying to stop him from going any further. The demon snarled, 
“Now, suck. Show me your true powers, witch.”
You were bolstered by his belief in you, even if you also felt like your jaw was going to dislocate itself from your face. When your eyes peered down your nose to map out just how much more cock you needed to swallow, you shivered. But, you were going to be a Master Summoner, and you weren’t giving up that easily. 
You began to suck in long, aching pulls, breathing through your nose, working your head back and forth with Gaz’s help, massaging his wet tip until it was practically bursting with dewy drops of his slick. You swallowed it down your throat, and you were surprised at how comforted you felt by the sensation of his warm fluid slipping down into your empty stomach. 
“Good… so good,” Gaz rumbled with a pleased resonance, “Are you ready for me to fuck this tight little throat of yours?”
“Mngh! Nhuhmph!” You tried to shake your head back and forth, but his heavy prick had hardened, and you couldn’t move or turn your head at all. You were trapped on him, stuck in place, primed and ready for your mouth to be claimed by a demon. 
“I knew you would be,” he smiled sinisterly, taking a step forward and shoving his cockhead past your palate and into your throat, feeding himself down your neck and stretching you in places you were almost positive you should not have been stretched. 
The sting made your eyes well up with tears, flowing freely across your temples, and you tried to shut them to clear some of the pain, but your hellish master used his hand to slap your cheek twice in quick succession, punishing you for it, his voice a sinful command,
“Eyes on me, you fuckin’ slag. Power hungry girls don’t get to be shy. Face your challenges, witch.”
You looked up at him, finding that dark defiance within you. He was right. You did hunger for power, and you wanted him to fill your belly full of souls so that you could control the demon army of your destiny. This was your time to shine. 
You wanted to impress him, so you stared into his gaze and sank yourself even deeper down onto his dick, gagging violently as you tried to take him. It felt like his cock was in your chest. 
“Ooh, yes,” Gaz grinned with sharp, white teeth and fangs, proud of your fury, “Tha’s it, babes. More. Take more of me.”
You felt him press himself down and down and down, all your hopes of taking one last breath were dashed, and you could only wriggle helplessly on the end of his long rod like a fish on a hook, caught and without any chance of escape. 
Maybe he would kill you and take your soul to Hell, you thought. He was a demon after all. But, he wasn’t done with you. Gaz watched you struggle to remain conscious, trying to breathe as he rammed himself in and out of your throat, fucking your face with reckless need. Then, he pulled himself out of you just enough for you to suck in a ragged, drooling breath, and he held himself there, watching you carefully. 
“There,” Gaz purred, petting the same cheek he had so violently abused, “Breathe, pet. Better make it count.”
You were crying from the desperation, unsure of how to get your lungs to feel even the slightest pull of relief, trying to suck in air through the thick drool and slick precome that coated your nose and mouth. 
Then, he pet your head and sighed, 
“That’s enough for now.”
He was back to his pounding. You were taking him all the way down to his swollen root now, and his black curling pubic hair brushed against your nose and chin. You used your hands to fondle his swinging sack, massaging his balls, coaxing them to dump their many souls into your willing body. You were preparing to be a vessel for a demon, and the feeling between your legs let you know just how much that idea turned you on. 
“Suck!” Gaz shouted, slamming his cock through your mouth, “Suck me harder, you filthy little bitch. Suck me like your life depends on it,” he leaned his head down and made his eyes flash red, “Because it does.”
You wailed, but it came out like a moan, trying so hard to please him, sucking him when you had the ability to do so, but for the most part, you were nothing more than his warm cocksleeve. 
He buried your face in his pubes, holding your head down as you thrashed for air, pushing at his furry cervine legs for freedom, and then… you stopped. You felt euphoric. Your mind stopped fighting as soon as you felt the molten hot stream of Gaz’s viscous demon come filling your belly. 
“Oh, fuck! Yes,” he moaned, smiling sickly, trembling and shaking above you, keeping your head pressed down, forcing you to take him as deep as you could, “Swallow it all, witch. Drink up all these fuckin’ souls.”
You swallowed and took in as much as you could. He had been pumping and throbbing inside of your mouth for so long now, you could actually feel the weight of his seed inside of yourself, and it made you feel so powerful. You rubbed your lower belly, rounded from the creamy gulps of demon come that was being stuffed inside of you, enjoying how full you were. 
Then, all of a sudden, Gaz released you, raking himself out of your throat, bringing strings of come and drool and spit with him. Your body clenched, gagging and coughing as he left you empty, your throat feeling like it had been burned. You could taste his spend on your tongue, and you sat back, panting, trying to let the oxygen get into your brain again. 
“Mmm,” Gaz moaned, jerking his softening prick in his huge hands, taking the tip and rubbing its sticky remnants all over your face, “Such a good little summoner. You summoned my come right into your tummy, didn’t you, slut?”
“Yes, my lord,” you rasped. 
“Does my nasty witch wan–” Gaz’s salacious comment was interrupted by the portal reopening. You both slid away from it, unsure of who or what was coming through.
“Gaz?” A demon with a tall mohawk and long, straight horns that went back across his head, squeezed himself through the open gap in your magic portal, “Mate, where did ye run off to? Didnae even finish your third torture sesh. Oh! Oh… what’ve you got here?”
The apparently Scottish demon startled you, and his gaze was unsettling. He stared at you like he wanted to eat your bones for supper. 
“It worked!” You celebrated, “Oh, thank you, my lord. The souls you gave me have summoned another demon!”
“What?” Gaz said, “Uh, no… this is Soap, and he was jus–”
“Summoned? I wasnae summoned here, lass. What was supposed to work?”
“The souls,” you explained smugly, “Lord Gaz has filled my belly with his seed, and he told me that it contains a multitude of souls that I can use to attract other, more powerful demons.”
“He told you that his fuckin’ spunk was full of souls,” Soap asked, his face curling into a boyish grin, “And you believed him.”
You nodded. Gaz sighed, waiting for the next quip that he knew was on its way out of the other demon’s mouth. 
“Well, bonnie,” Soap sauntered over to you, jerking his own immense phallus, “Mine’s got twice as many as his does. Hope you saved room for dessert.”
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artinvain · 5 months ago
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vampire!sevika x witch!reader who runs into you at the library when she’s returning books. (no smut … yet!??!) men and minors dni
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:✧・゚:
Vampire!sevika who smells you, sickly sweet smell of a bakery, cigarettes and coffee. whose mouth starts to taste metallic. standing there and scenting the air, her eyes scrunched shut so no one sees the whites have turned crimson and her pupils are blown and black.
who tries to smile at you but feels her fangs extending a pain of hunger growing in her so she has to feed before she even comes near you.
vampire!Sevika who ignores all your advances with a smile and flippancy because she’s afraid she’ll hurt you if she gets too close.
vampire!Sevika whose hunting and spots you on a picnic, and has to claim she was hiking because she was caught staring.
vampire!Sevika who has to join you — seeing you alone in the woods too worrisome for her to leave you.
vampire!Sevika who then warms up to the idea of being around tou, not because she was dangerous but because she could protect you from things much worse than her
vampire!Sevika who starts leaving flowers at your work.
vampire!Sevika who is so used to providing she nearly cries when you send her your favourite book you “think you’ll really enjoy. It seems to match your old soul” with a plate of baked cookies on top.
vampire!Sevika who has her team watch out for you (as in stalk you 24 hours and report your movements back to her)
she thinks it’s the way you get to know someone — watch you , learn what you like so that she can anticipate your needs and be a good partner.
vampire!Sevika who thinks she’s ready to have dinner at your place when you offer.
and is stunned to see the sigils and candles, books and herbs inside, crystals lining the walls and refracting light into your living room.
When you stand silently at the door until she asks to be invited in, she’s immediately suspicious.
vampire!Sevika who’s been around long enough to realise you have a cloaking spell rune above your fireplace and knows she fucked.
because she doesn’t know anything about you — all her intel was messed with by your spell.
vampire!sevika who is now an entirely new level of nervous because not only are you intelligent and interesting and funny — you’re also more gorgeous than any face she’s seen in decades. eyes so unwarded and honest, skin soft and dewy. and your hands on hers — god it’s so soft—
and then she realises you’re asking about her daylight ring, you’re very fascinated you know about the type of rock that was used, it’s more popular century, the tiny runes inscribed de dismissed as aging.
vampire!Sevika who doesn’t stay for dinner when she smells your tea, the scent like burning razors in her nostrils. Vervain. A plant near deadly to vampires.
vampire!Sevika who excuses herself saying she has a cold and then receives a care package for her, which makes her realise the cookies you baked didn’t have any vervain in them. So she tries the food and it’s fine. more than fine it’s incredible. It makes her so hungry she has to feed.
vampire!sevika who only feeds on what she declared “scum of the earth,” she didn’t do it often at the risk of being caught but some nights, (like where she sees two men pulling a knife on a woman walking home from work — well with a knife it’s easy to make the deaths look … natural) she’s lucky.
vampire!Sevika who invites you over to her loft, it’s actually more dated than you’d expect. gold-yellow and red lilac and columbine flower wallpaper in the living room’s feature wall. With more modern pops in the furniture and essentials.
“A lot of your stuff is… antique,” you say smiling politely, a furrow in your brow. and Sevika laughs at the way you sit very very carefully on an old chesterfield sofa.
“I’ve reinforced them,” Sevika explains “they are old but, I can’t seem to let them go,”
“Family heirloom?” You guess, a lot of the stuff in here was too fancy to be sold at regular antiques in your area, which meant Sevika was rich, according to her furniture you guessed old money rich.
“that’s insane to have a family tree you can trace so far back you could have your own heirloom”
it was her brothers. they sat on it every night together in his first and only home, and talked in depth about nothing at all.
“My family is close, I am grateful,” Sevika says
the look in your eye. a twinkle of playful curiosity,
“and the ring is an heirloom also?” You ask, standing up to take another look around.
“this stuff if very english — your accent —“
”we moved when I was very little,” she interrupted quickly, that wasn’t entirely false. “I’ve lived here all my life,” that was lie.
you smile at her and quirk your head. she was so… guarded.
“what about your family?” Sevika asks, stepping toward you and guiding you with her hand on your lower back to the sofa. she opens a bottle of wine and pours it for you when she hears you say “salem” and nearly spills. you pretend not to notice and take the glass, thanking her.
“yeah, we fled during the salem trials, there was a much bigger pool of people then, than what’s documented,” you say and Sevika turns to you
”witches then,” Sevika says and lets a giggle slip when you say “of course, have you seen the way I dress?” so wooed by your boldness because yes, she has noticed the way you dress and she thinks you’re some kind of deity, the way your dresses and skirts fall over your thighs, and the way your jean overalls highlights your arms. she’s always mesmerised.
“you are a little whimsical, you sent me the metamorphosis by Franz kafka!” She rolls are eyes at the memory, she was kind of offended when she got it because really? but then when she read it with your note at the end she knew you were referencing yourself, explaining the way your mind works without really having to tell her. So Sevika is gentle with her words around you, makes sure your needs get catered to and makes sure that you always feel secure and loved. 🏷️ @archangeldyke-all @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @sevsbaby @bimboprincezz @opropheticsoul
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disabledsysboxes · 3 months ago
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Blog promo??
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Hello! We're blue/spirit, also known as the archive, any prns.
This blog is run by our mass effect introjects (currently), garrus and Shepard.
We make userboxes for disabled systems! (And we *aren't* transandrophobic.)
Feel free to check out our rules for exactly what we're willing to make and you're welcome to ask if you're curious about anything.
We would really appreciate a promo to let people know our blog is here!
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Tagging for reach: sorry moots !
@systiveboxes @delightfulweepingwillows @hewasanamericangirl @kodiescove @cpunkwitch @the-church-of-strabismus @writingbrainrot @rwuffles @de-rune @chaos-and-ink @cdd-system-terms @sysboxes @disrealities
Credit for our replycons goes to @decayednightmaremogai
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ashthewaterghoul · 2 days ago
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I Know For The Last Time You Will Not Be Mine So Give Me The Night - An Alternative Ending
     At some point, Dew felt a faint light licking against his eyelids. Did he fall asleep? Was it morning already? Though curiously, he still felt the back of Phantom’s shoulders pressed against his face. He reluctantly cracked an eye open, and instantly regretted it.     The light was coming from Phantom’s horns. Their stars and galaxies giving a final burst of energy, one last ditch attempt at waking up. But they never would. Or, What would have been the ending to Ch22 of Even The Brightest Stars Burn Out if I decided to be mean. Pretty sure this could honestly be read without the context of the fic but notes have a tldr.
Words: 1.5k
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Aether & Phantom, Dew/Phantom, Phantom & everyone
Tags: Death, alternative ending, angst, whump, Dewdrop needs a hug, referenced su!c!de attempt, funerals, Aether & Phantom are siblings, they/them pronouns for Phantom, idk how to tag this please send help.
A/n: Context! Phantom and Aether are siblings and Phantom got summoned to a pool of Aether's blood. Angst and shit ensues until Phantom decides to commit suicide. Dew gets there to talk them down, but not before the dagger they were going to use falls and slices their chest open. That and magic made it so they didn't wake up and were put in a coma. In ch22 we see the pack struggling and loosing hope, but Phantom wakes up! In this ending though, they decidedly… don't
    When the doctors came that dreadful evening, the pack all piled on top of Phantom, making sure they weren’t alone and surrounded by love. Copia had given Phantom the Ghoul equivalent of the last rites, and the pack had followed the Ghoulish tradition of preparing a body for death with some alterations considering they were away from their native dimension. They had washed Phantom’s body with various oils and herbs, each bearing a prayer, and finished by burning incense and using the ashes to draw various protection runes for Phantom’s journey into the Beyond. They had done the same for Aether, not getting the opportunity with Sunshine. Seeing the little Bat bearing the same marks their brother had just months prior twisted all their souls even more than they already had been. The universe really was a heartless bitch at times. The pack had put Phantom in their favourite pyjamas (Swiss’ joggers and one of Aether’s t-shirts) and Cumulus had made their curls look so healthy, you wouldn’t think anything was wrong.
    The doctors removed everything but the breathing tube, allowing the pack some final moments. It was weirdly quiet without the beeping of the monitors they had all become accustomed to. Phantom had looked so small amongst all the wires and tubes they had been connected to, yet they somehow looked even smaller now without it.
    All said their goodbyes privately, one at a time, then together took positions on Phantom’s nest. Phantom was rolled partially on their side so their head rested on Cumulus’ chest as that was how they always cuddled, Mountain sat against the headboard with them both against his own chest. Rain curled up by their feet while Swiss and Aurora rested their heads on Phantom’s leg. Cirrus shimmied herself between Cumulus and Rain, her head on their stomach, and Dew curled up around the back of Phantom.
    The bat plushie was in their arms, and one of Aether’s horns was in each hand.
Read below the cut or on ao3!
    The doctor turned off the respirator, removed the breathing tube and immediately left the room, shutting the door behind her.
    All the Ghouls shut their eyes, not wanting to see their horns fall away. The magic in the dagger was what made Aether and Sunny’s bodies disappear, so they also shut their eyes so they didn’t have to see it happen to Phantom if they disappeared too. All stayed silent as they cried, and waited for the last crackle of air to leave Phantom’s lungs, for their heart to stop beating, and for the stars in their horns to burn out with their soul.
    Dew, Cirrus and Cumulus would be the first to hear them go, and were entwining their tails, providing some comfort for what was to come. Silently, they all prayed that Phantom would come back. That their breathing would pick up and they would wake. But Satan hadn’t listened thus far, why would he listen now?
     At some point, Dew felt a faint light licking against his eyelids. Did he fall asleep? Was it morning already? Though curiously, he still felt the back of Phantom’s shoulders pressed against his face. He reluctantly cracked an eye open, and instantly regretted it.
    The light was coming from Phantom’s horns. Their stars and galaxies giving a final burst of energy, one last ditch attempt at waking up. But they never would.
    The last crackle of air left Phantom’s lungs. Dew, Cirrus and Cumulus felt those last heartbeats, so incredibly strong that they dared to think maybe it would be okay. But the last beat thumped, that last thread snapped, and none came after.
    Dew choked on a sob. Cumulus followed after the small clank of their horns falling away and out of their skull. And then everyone joined as Phantom’s body disappeared.
    As the Bug they were all clinging to - almost trying to follow them - faded away, they ended up holding each other instead. The horns fell to the middle of their pile, in a spot where the Ghoul themself was no longer. All of them watched as the stars and galaxy gave their last shine, and burn out into dormancy, just like Aether’s had.
    The bat plushie now had both of the brothers’ horns resting against its plush wings. Dew allowed himself a small comfort that the Bat themself was indeed with their brother again, and free from their pain.
    Although they had left the pack in a whole cosmos of it.
~~~
‘Phantom Luceat’
‘May your pain end, and your soul
paint the brightest stars in our skies.’
    It was engraved onto a stone that Dew and Rain had retrieved from the depths of the river. On it, Swiss and Aurora had combined their Earth affinities to etch the text alongside wisteria, carnations and baby’s breath, Mountain taking over when it got too much for them.
    It felt like a sickening Déjà vu as the pack walked up the hill again, to the lake, and to the second Dogwood tree Mountain had planted, grown and moved. Not to mention also feature a memorial stone for a Luceat at the base.
    They all had violet candles, carved with bats, and wore solemn expressions. Once again, they all said a few words for the little bat. Cumulus for the fourth kit she’d lost, Cirrus for her sibling, Swiss, Aurora and Rain for their partner, Copia for the third Ghoul lost in such a short time, and Dew and Mountain for the little bug who meant much more to them than words could describe.
    They built another pyre and Dew and Swiss used their affinities and the flames of the candles to light it. There wasn’t a lot any of them could throw in as Phantom had been topside for just months, Aether had been here for years. But they all found something. Copia burned the dagger once and for all, not caring for if the Clergy would chew his head off for destroying something so important for their rituals.
    All the pack and Copia stayed there until the pyre had finished burning and said the prayers to protect Phantom’s soul in the Beyond.
    Slowly, everyone filtered back inside. But Dew stayed, staring at the ashes and wishing he was part of it. He had begged to be taken instead of Phantom, and once again, he couldn’t get what he wanted.
    He lit a cigarette and tears pricked his eyes when the brief memory of him offering one to Phantom popped up. It was stupid, and Dew didn’t even know if they smoked, but he felt like he had to do something. As Dew took puffs of the cig, he had to wonder what if Phantom said yes? Would anything had changed? It felt like millions of what ifs ran through the Fire Ghoul’s head, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t cause him a bit of a migraine.
    Phantom was only 24 years old; Dew was 33. He’d lived as good a life as he would get by now, his birth family gone and his chosen family in a constant cycle of slowly disappearing. He’d seen the world that so few Ghouls get to see and can’t see or do much more that he hadn’t already been through. It should have been him.
    Dew reached into his pocket, and pulled out the several gemstones that he retrieved for Phantom. They clinked together in his palm and his heart hurt at the sight of them. His hand shook from the cold and his cries as he knelt on the edge of the lake. The other hand reached out and melted the ice. Dew sobbed as he returned the crystals to the water they came from.
    As was tradition for Water Ghouls, what could be returned to her, should be. It was a death tradition for a Water Ghoul’s horns to be put back into the Ghoul’s home waters, allowed to sink to the bottom and be with her in eternal rest and embrace. Dew also knew from Aether that the notion of life being a cycle - everything in it being its own cycle, knowing that everything returning home in the end - is incredibly important to Quintessence Ghouls. It almost felt like a meeting of their elemental traditions.
    Dew had hoped that one day, he would be able to combine them by making his nest nice and neat and pristine so Phantom can rest easy in his safe-space, only wanting to be his best for them. He would fill the nest with comforts for them both to share, grab Aether’s old star projector so they could have a mimicry of laying under the stars that had exploded at the perfect times for them to meet. He would've used the courting traditions to ask Phantom to be his.
    Omega had once told Aether “Fuck the Fates” and Dew could quite honestly say that would be his next tattoo. The Fates were cruel, life was cruel, the universe was cruel. Phantom was too young for all they went through, and they absolutely should not have died.
    It happened to Omega, then Aether, and now Phantom. So, Dew cried as he was forced to realise that, in the end, even the brightest stars burn out.
Go read the main fic on ao3! One shot master post can be found here
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coolbeans32 · 5 months ago
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Echoes of Destiny: The Serpent and the Phoenix
PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader (OC)
SYNOPSIS: For the purposes of not spoiling anything, hehe...It is officially time for the ritual. The ritual that will either bring back Tom Riddle, or one that will cause chaos.
WARNINGS: The following passage contains some themes of death and resurrection and some themes of trauma. If there are any others that need mentioning that I was unable to catch please let me know!
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I think you will be pleased with this chapter...that's for sure....Happy Reading luvs!
TRANSLATION: “Dissipata animae fragmenta redeant ad unitatem. De tenebris ad lucem, anima vaga, revertere. Vincula animae franguntur, libertatem inveniunt. Animae divisae simul redeant et corpus inveniant. Ab umbris in lucem, tota anima reviviscat.” (Latin)
“Let the scattered fragments of the soul return to unity. From darkness to light, wandering soul, return. The bonds of the soul are broken, let them find freedom. Let the divided souls come back together and find their body. From the shadows into the light, let the whole soul come back to life.” (English)
Previous Part| Next Part
Chapter Sixteen
The Ritual
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The morning light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a muted glow over the ancient rooms. In the library, Genevieve was surrounded by an array of books, scrolls, and magical instruments. She had been up since the peak of dawn, meticulously preparing for the daunting task ahead: extracting the pieces of Voldemort's soul from Harry and Nagini. Genevieve knew that rune magic was a precise and ancient art, demanding unwavering focus and skill, as her father Gellert had once said. She had spent years studying its intricacies, but the stakes had never been this high, at least with so many years without practice due to her state. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath, centering herself before beginning the complicated process.
First, she laid out a large piece of parchment on the table, its surface blank and waiting. She dipped a quill into a pot of specially prepared ink, a deep red hue that shimmered faintly. The ink was a crucial component, infused with phoenix tears and basilisk venom she found in the secret apothecary built into the Black house, which when combined is potent enough to interact with the fragments of Voldemort's soul. Genevieve began by drawing a large circle, the foundational boundary for the runic array. She moved with practiced precision, her hand steady as she inscribed the outermost symbols, each one representing protection, containment, and purification. These runes would form the barrier to keep the extracted soul pieces from escaping or causing harm.
With the circle complete, Genevieve added inner layers of runes, each set corresponding to specific magical properties. There were runes for severance, to carefully cut the soul fragments from their hosts, and runes for transfer, to safely move the fragments into prepared vessels. The final set of runes were for healing, to mend the spiritual wounds left behind. As Genevieve worked, she recited incantations under her breath, the ancient words resonating with the power of the runes. The air around her seemed to hum with energy, the magic taking shape in response to her efforts.
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Meanwhile, in another part of the house, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were trying to keep their minds off the gravity of the situation. They had set up a makeshift game room in the drawing-room, hoping to find some distraction in each other's company.
Ron dealt a hand of Exploding Snap, his movements quick and practiced. "Alright, who's ready to lose?" he said with a grin, trying to inject some levity into the tense atmosphere.
Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "You wish, Ron. I've been practicing."
Hermione, sitting across from them, managed a smile. "Just try not to blow up the table this time, okay?" They played several rounds, the familiar game providing a welcome respite from their worries. The cards snapped and crackled, and laughter occasionally punctuated the air as they bantered and teased each other.
After a particularly explosive round, Ron leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Do you think Genevieve will be alright? I mean, this rune magic stuff sounds intense."
Hermione nodded, her expression serious. "It is. But if anyone can do it, it's Genevieve. She’s been studying this for years. We have to trust her."
Harry sighed, his thoughts drifting back to the library. "I know. It’s just... hard to sit here and wait."
Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand. "We’re all in this together, Harry. She’ll call us when she’s ready. For now, we need to keep our spirits up, especially you Harry. Being relaxed helps the transfer to be efficient without any form of resistance." As the day wore on, they shifted from games to conversation, reminiscing about their time at Hogwarts, sharing stories of past adventures, and discussing their hopes for the future. They shared memories that helped ease their anxiety, if only for a while, as they continued to enjoy their time together, despite the troubles in the outside world, just this once.
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Back in the library, Genevieve was nearing the final steps of her preparation. The runic array was complete, glowing faintly with the power imbued in each symbol. She double-checked her work, ensuring that every line was perfect, every rune precisely where it needed to be. Satisfied, she moved to the next phase: testing the array. She retrieved a small, inert object, a piece of old jewelry, and placed it in the center of the circle. Chanting softly, she activated the runes, watching as the energy flowed through the array. The jewelry glowed briefly, the runes flaring with light as the magic interacted with the object.
After a few moments, the glow subsided, and Genevieve carefully examined the jewelry. It was unharmed, the runic magic having performed as expected. She allowed herself a small smile of relief. The array was ready. With the preparations complete, Genevieve knew it was time to gather the others. She left the library and found Harry, Ron, and Hermione still in the drawing-room, their conversation fading as she approached.
"It's time," she said, her voice steady but solemn. "We’re ready to begin the extraction." The trio exchanged glances, their earlier levity replaced by resolve. They followed Genevieve back to the library, where the runic array awaited. The room felt charged with anticipation, the significance of the moment heavy in the air.
Genevieve turned to face them, her expression calm but determined. "This will be difficult, but we’ve come this far. We can do this. Trust me."
Harry nodded, stepping forward. "Let’s finish this."
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Back in the library, the room was bathed in a soft, golden light as Genevieve prepared for the ritual. The runic array on the parchment glowed faintly, the complex symbols resonating with the magic imbued within them. On the table, two necklaces lay side by side, their simple designs belying the monumental task they were about to undertake: becoming the new vessels for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.
Harry and Nagini stood nearby, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination. Genevieve motioned for them to take their places. "Please, sit facing each other," she instructed, her voice calm and reassuring. "This will allow the energy to flow more smoothly during the extraction."
Harry and Nagini complied, sitting down across from one another with the necklaces between them. Genevieve positioned herself at the head of the table, her wand in hand, and took a deep breath, centering herself.
"This process will require you both to remain as relaxed as possible," Genevieve said, her eyes moving from Harry to Nagini. "Do not move, no matter what you feel. The runes will guide the extraction, but any sudden movements could disrupt the ritual."
Harry nodded, his jaw set in determination. "We'll do our best."
Nagini, her demeanor composed, added, "We trust you, Genevieve."
Genevieve smiled, “This may feel uncomfortable but I guarantee you both, you won't have to deal with having his soul inside you any more.”
Harry smiled, “We’re ready.”
With that, Genevieve began to chant softly, the ancient words of the incantation filling the room. She moved her wand in a precise pattern, tracing the runes in the air. The runic array on the parchment responded, the symbols glowing brighter as the magic activated.
A soft, pulsing light emanated from the necklaces, signaling the beginning of the extraction. Genevieve directed her wand toward Harry first, her movements fluid and exact. She could feel the resistance as she gently coaxed the fragment of Voldemort's soul from within him, the dark energy struggling against the pull of the runes.
Harry's eyes fluttered closed, his breathing deep and steady. He felt a strange sensation, like a cold wind swirling inside him, but he remained still, trusting Genevieve to guide the process. Slowly, the dark energy began to flow out of him, drawn towards the necklace. The runes glowed brighter, their light intensifying as the fragment was transferred into the new vessel. With a final, soft incantation, Genevieve completed the extraction. The necklace pulsed with a dark light for a moment before settling, the fragment securely contained. She exhaled slowly, relief washing over her as she turned her attention to Nagini.
"Well done, Harry," she whispered, her voice steady. "Now for the next step."
Nagini met Genevieve's gaze, her eyes calm. Genevieve repeated the process, her wand movements precise and her incantation steady. The runic array responded once more, the symbols flaring to life as they worked to extract the second fragment of Voldemort's soul. Nagini felt a similar cold sensation, the dark energy swirling within her as it was drawn out. She remained perfectly still, her breathing controlled. The fragment flowed from her into the second necklace, the runes glowing fiercely as they completed the transfer.
With the final incantation, Genevieve sealed the fragment within the necklace. The room seemed to exhale with her, the tension easing as the ritual reached its conclusion. The necklaces lay on the table, now containing the dark fragments of Voldemort's soul, their task complete.
Genevieve lowered her wand, her shoulders relaxing. She looked at Harry and Nagini, both of whom were now free from the burden of the Horcruxes. "It's done," she said softly, a small smile of triumph on her lips. "You both did wonderfully."
Harry opened his eyes, feeling lighter than he had in years. "Thank you, Genevieve," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I can't believe it's over."
Nagini nodded, her expression serene. "You've done something remarkable, Genevieve. We can move forward now."
Genevieve's smile widened, relief and hope shining in her eyes. "This is only the first step, but it's a crucial one. With the Horcruxes contained, we can now focus on bringing Tom Riddle back. The next part is something that I will have to do alone. I cannot have you here."
Harry, curiously asked, “Why is that?”
Genevieve turned towards him, “I can’t risk putting anyone else in danger for the rest of the ritual. The runes are complicated and if gone wrong, the vessels may burst and attach to anything alive other than the conjurer. That would be no good. It would be much more difficult, impossible even to remove a full set of horcruxes from a human being. It’s best if you all just waited outside.”
Harry wanted to interject but Nagini beat him to it, “We understand, just be careful.”
Genevieve nodded, “Of course. I promise you both, everything will go just fine. If anything does happen, know that at least I will be alright.”
Harry, still unsure, says, “Promise?”
Genevieve smiled softly, “I promise Harry.” 
Harry, defeated, said, “Okay. We’ll be in the other room if you need anything.”
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The soft hum of magical energy was still lingering in the air after Genevieve's successful extraction of the Horcruxes. As she prepared for the next phase of the ritual, Harry paced restlessly in the adjoining room, his mind racing with concern. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that leaving Genevieve to perform the ritual alone was a mistake.
Ron, Hermione, and Nagini watched him, understanding his worry. Hermione was the first to speak, her voice gentle yet firm. "Harry, you need to calm down. Genevieve knows what she's doing. She's powerful and experienced in rune magic. She wouldn't proceed if she wasn't confident she could handle it."
Harry stopped pacing, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Hermione, but this is different. Extracting the Horcruxes was one thing, but bringing Tom Riddle back to life? It's dangerous. What if something goes wrong?"
Ron stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Mate, I get it. I do. But Genevieve is smart. She's been planning this for a long time. She wouldn't take unnecessary risks. And besides, we've all seen what she's capable of."
Nagini, her voice calm and soothing, added, "Genevieve is not alone in this. She has our support and the knowledge she's gathered. She knows when to stop if something goes wrong. You have to trust her, Harry."
Harry sighed, the weight of his anxiety pressing down on him. "It's just... we've been through so much already. I can't bear the thought of losing her too. What if Voldemort's soul fragments fight back? What if they hurt her?"
Hermione moved closer, her eyes full of empathy. "I understand, Harry. We all do. But remember, Genevieve is the one who discovered the Horcrux in you. She’s the one who figured out how to extract them. If anyone can handle this, it's her. She’s been preparing for this moment."
Ron nodded in agreement. "And we're right here. If she needs help, we'll be ready. But she needs us to trust her right now."
Harry looked at his friends, seeing the same determination and faith in their eyes that had carried them through countless battles. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "You're right. I need to trust her. I do trust her. It's just hard."
Nagini offered a small, reassuring smile. "It’s natural to worry about those we care for. But worrying won't help her. Believing in her will."
Harry nodded slowly, feeling a bit of the tension ease. "Okay. I'll try to stay calm. But if anything goes wrong, we’re going in to help her."
Hermione squeezed his arm gently. "Of course. But for now, let's give her the space she needs to work. We have to have faith in her abilities."
With a final, deep breath, Harry tried to let go of his worry. "Alright. Let's wait here, then. And keep our ears open, just in case." As the group settled into a tense vigil, the door to the library remained closed, a silent testament to the weight of the task Genevieve was undertaking. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern, but also with a thread of hope. They had come so far, and now, more than ever, they needed to trust in the strength and wisdom of their friend.
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Inside the library, Genevieve stood over the runic array, her hands steady and her mind focused. She knew the risks, but she also knew the importance of the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, she began to relax, meditating, feeling the ancient magic respond to her. The room was filled with an eerie stillness as Genevieve was ready for the final phase of the ritual. 
The Horcruxes, now contained within two ornate necklaces, lay on the table before her. The runic array she had meticulously prepared glowed faintly, the ancient symbols pulsing with latent power. She took a final deep breath, grounding herself in the knowledge and preparation that had led to this moment. It was time to bring Tom Riddle back to life, to mend his fragmented soul, and set the stage for Voldemort's ultimate defeat.
She began by placing the necklaces in the center of the runic array, positioning them precisely according to the intricate pattern she had studied for months. The room seemed to hum with energy, the air thick with anticipation. Genevieve raised her hands, her voice steady as she chanted the first incantation. "Dissipata animae fragmenta redeant ad unitatem." The runes flared to life, casting an otherworldly glow across the library.
With each step, the ritual grew more intense. Genevieve's voice grew stronger, the power of the incantations filling the room. "De tenebris ad lucem, anima vaga, revertere." The necklaces began to vibrate, the fragments of Voldemort's soul responding to the call.
Sweat beaded on Genevieve's forehead as she moved to the next stage, her focus unwavering. "Vincula animae franguntur, libertatem inveniunt." The runic symbols pulsed brighter, the light shifting from a dark, ominous hue to a softer, more radiant glow. The atmosphere in the library began to change. What had been a heavy, oppressive energy transformed into something lighter, more hopeful. Genevieve could feel the dark magic being purified, the fragments of Voldemort's soul being drawn out of their vessels and into the center of the array.
She took a deep breath, knowing the most critical part was at hand. "Animae divisae simul redeant et corpus inveniant." The light intensified, swirling around the necklaces in a brilliant vortex. As she uttered the final incantation, her voice rang with power and determination. "Ab umbris in lucem, tota anima reviviscat." The room was flooded with blinding light, the dark magic fully transformed into pure, radiant energy.
When the light subsided, the runes on the floor dimmed to a gentle glow, their task complete. In the center of the array, where the necklaces had been, layed a figure. Tom Riddle, not the twisted visage of Voldemort, but a young man Genevive once knew, his features unmarked by dark magic. He looked around, disoriented, his eyes wide with confusion and a hint of fear. Genevieve stepped back, her breath coming in heavy gasps. The ritual had taken a toll on her, but she had succeeded. The vessels were empty, and Tom Riddle was there before her, his soul mended and whole. She couldn’t believe it. He was back. 
She reached towards him slowly, and said, “Tom?”
Tom turned around to the voice in front of him. He truthfully couldn’t believe his eyes. The last time she was in front of him, was the day he had lost everything. He didn’t want to believe she was there, she was dead in his arms the last time. There was no possibility that Genevieve was alive. 
Tom gulped, tears on the verge of escaping, “Gen?” He said quietly.
Genevieve smiled, tears in her eyes, “Yeah Tom?”
Tom closed his eyes, tears escaping. He thought that this was a dream. “I’m dreaming. You died in my arms. You’re not here. You’re a figment of my imagination.” He said as he was shaking his head. 
Genevieve moved to grab his hand. She had to show him that this was, in fact, real. “No, Tommy, I am here. I’m alive. Grab my hand love.”
Tom, filled with confusion but relief, opened his eyes as Genevieve laid her hand over his. Feeling she was real, he moved his other hand to cradle her face. He caressed her cheek, taking it all in that Genevieve was really in front of him. “You’re alive? You’re really here?”
Genevieve moved to caress his cheek, enjoying feeling his warm touch again, “I really am here.”
Tom moved forward, leaning for their foreheads to touch. He let out a sigh that he didn’t realize he was holding on to. For a moment, he just relished the feeling of his lover next to him, not wanting to let go. He furrowed his eyebrows, “But how? You weren’t breathing in my arms… I tried…y-you were so pale…and Dumbledore…he didn’t fucking do anything. That blasted oaf-” Tom stated furiously, body shaking as Genevieve interjected, “I know my love. He did this. He planted this whole plan to separate us and made it seem I died, but I didn’t. He locked me up in hopes for those he wished for to find me and destroy you…but I made them realize who my blasted father was…and now look. You’re back here with me.” Genevieve held Tom’s face in her hands, staring into his eyes.
Tom looked deep into her eyes, and he knew that she was real. Her two different colored eyes radiated with passion and longing just as much as his eyes did. For so long, he had felt lost. Lost without the one person who understood him and loved him, even with his flaws. “I’ve missed you Doll.”
Genevieve smiled, sobs fighting to get out, recalling the last time they were together. For she had wished that their last encounter wasn’t a fight. “I-I’ve missed you too, my love.” 
Tom, letting go of his tears, happy that he was finally with Genevieve again, and leaned forward to kiss her. Genevieve reciprocated the kiss, gentle but passionate, filled with an eagerness from the years apart. Simultaneously, a yellow glow had emitted, a symbol of their love radiating from both of their magical cores. Even their cores knew that their two souls had bonded to each other once again, as it had many years ago, in their secret sanctuary. 
Genevieve let go to stare back into Tom’s eyes. She said, “Let’s get you into some better robes. I have so much to catch you up on.” 
Tom smiled softly and nodded. “Of course my dear.” With that, they moved to stand up to head to the other room.
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Outside the library, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Nagini waited anxiously. When the light had poured from under the door, they had held their breath, hoping for the best. Now, as the glow faded, they exchanged nervous glances. 
That is when they heard the doorknob turn. The sight that greeted them was almost surreal. Genevieve moved to stand at the center of the room, visibly exhausted but triumphant. And standing next to her was Tom Riddle, hands held together, looking more like the young man he once was than the dark lord he had become.
"Genevieve," Harry said softly, his voice filled with awe and relief. "You did it."
Genevieve turned to him, a tired but satisfied smile on her face. "Yes, it's done.” Hermione and Ron stepped forward, their expressions a mix of amazement and caution. Nagini watched from the doorway, her eyes unreadable.
Tom Riddle, now fully aware of his surroundings, looked at the group before him. He seemed to be grappling with the situation, wondering whom the people around him were. He looked at Genevieve for some help. 
“We’ll talk in a few. For right now, I have to catch Tom up on a few things and then we can continue to discuss our next plans. I'll help with dinner shortly,” Genevieve said.
Nagini was the first to speak, “Take your time. I know you both have so much to discuss. We can handle dinner.”
Hermione nodded, “Of course, don’t worry about that Genevieve. You’ve already done so much. We’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Harry and Ron both nodded.
“Yeah, you should also get some rest. I think we can wait another day before anything,” Harry said with a beaming smile. 
Genevieve bowed her head slightly in gratitude, “Thank you all. We’ll be down shortly.”  With that, they left to head to the kitchen as Genevieve led Tom up to her room up the stairs. The weight of their mission still heavy but now imbued with a renewed sense of hope, they knew that the end was in sight. They had taken a crucial step towards victory and it was only a matter of time that the end of darkness would be near.
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Taglist: @wheenerrr @jillian2003 @secretkittydreamland
Tom Riddle Masterlist
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felixcloud6288 · 3 months ago
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PMMM Episodes 1-4 recap
Before I continue watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica, I want to gather my thoughts so far.
I think it's worth pointing out that I knew the basic premise going into the story and I know it's a deconstruction of the Magical Girl genre. I also know Kyubey is not a benevolent being. But I don't really know anything else.
I've seen a lot of fanart of Madoka in her magical girl attire so I'm genuinely surprised the series isn't her taking the deal on day 1 and going on magical adventures. Instead, the conflict seems to be Kyubey trying to get Madoka to become a Magical Girl while Homura tries to stop her from doing so.
The song that was playing during the cold opening in episode 1 is also the second ending theme, so I'm expecting that scene is near the end of the series and Madoka still hadn't become a magical girl.
I kind of think Kyubey is full of shit when he talks about granting wishes. He made his offer to Mami when she was about to die in a car crash and tried to get Sayaka and Madoka to make a contract when Mami was killed by a witch. These were situations where they had nothing to gain but everything to lose if they didn't accept his contract (By the way, the technical term for this is a Leonine contract).
He does have magical abilities as proven when he healed Kyosuke's arm but he seems to try putting his targets in situations where he effectively doesn't have to do anything for them.
I'm also curious about those soul gems. Anything called a soul gem is obviously bad. And magical girls need to constantly recharge them using grief seeds. So do they have their souls placed in those gems and they die if they run out of magic? Also, the animation when Mami used the grief seed showed something flowing OUT of the soul gem. So does using magic cause some sort of negative buildup in their souls?
I'm kind of curious what those witch runes all say. At the very least, the witches are all using the same alphabet though they're all using different fonts. The witch in episode 4 is exceedingly chatty compared to the previous ones since there's tons of writing during its scene.
But since I don't know what language everything is supposed to be in, it would be hard to transcribe everything. For all I know, everything is in German.
And speaking of the witches, each of them has a different theme about their domains, personalities, etc. But they all seem to have an obsession over something.
The one from episode 2 seems obsessed with flowers and gardening. It got really upset when Mami damaged the flowers.
The one from episode 3 is obsessed with food, especially desserts. Strangely, its familiars look like mice. Not really sure how they tie into the food theme.
The one from episode 4 has the least cohesive theme but I want to say they have an obsession with dolls and games. The gameboy directional pad is a recurring pattern in their domain and several background elements had an NES/SNES sprite design to them.
I guess my last thoughts so far are going to be toward the art and music. PMMM has a very distinct art style. If you know what PMMM is, you'd definitely recognize any screenshots or fanarts that it is PMMM.
Most of the budget probably went into the witches. The animation tends to be a little off-model from time to time. But the animation team knew where to put their focus because motion is wonderfully fluid.
A few weeks ago, I mentioned rewatching .hack//SIGN and realizing that that anime was very formative in the kind of media I like, and this show is hitting the same brain chemicals. If I were ten years younger, I can imagine watching this show and it being what forms the basis of what I like in story-telling media. I love the music (Yuki Kajiura made the music for this and .hack//SIGN), I love the disorienting animation style with the witches, and I love how there's clearly so much more to this story and it would require a second rewatch to fully understand everything.
I get why this is such an iconic anime despite it being so short.
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fritzes · 2 days ago
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tennis ramble idea: say one positive thing about each player in the top 40
atp:
jannik sinner: I love how committed he is to The Process and improving
carlos alcaraz: he's so positive on court but he also knows his own limits and when he can't be like that
skip
daniiil medvedev: he's very honest
novak djokovic: he's living his best life right now and really prioritizing what's most important to him, both in tennis and outside of it
taylor fritz: he proved the haters wrong!
casper ruud: even when he's struggling on court, he never takes out his frustration in a destructive way
felt a little conflicted, but I'm gonna skip
alex de minaur: he's so funny. like legitimately, every interview he gives has me chuckling
grigor dimitrov: I admire his commitment to flirting with everyone
tommy paul: his tennis is so pretty
stefanos tsitsipas: uh... his situationship with daniil is funny
holger rune: if he has opinions, he'll make them known
jack draper: his improvement this year is genuinely insane
hubi hurkacz: he unironically wears paddington slippers
I genuinely couldn't think of anything sooo skip (just one of those players I don't like for no reason)
frances tiafoe: he's just so fun and I love how friendly he is with everyone
ugo humbert: he plays piano!
ben shelton: he's so smiley and giggly when he plays doubles and I love it
arthur fils: his title runs this year are crazy impressive
karen khachanov: he peaks exclusively against francisco cerundolo
alejandro tabilo: when he's on, he's ON
SKIP
alexei popyrin: he had maybe the most iconic summer hardcourt swing ever
tomas machac: best backhand on tour for real
sebastian baez: he wins a bunch of random 250s and does nothing else and I respect him for that
jordan thompson: he's peaking in singles and doubles
felix auger-aliassime: he always has good sportsmanship and seems like such a genuinely kind persn
francisco cerundolo: he's a good sport about the h2h against karen
giovanni mpetshi perricard: his serve scares me (affectionate)
jiri lehecka: lots of my mutuals love him so by extension so do I
flavio cobolli: he's just such a cutie
nuno borges: he beat rafa in a clay final
alexander bublik: dgaf (except the times when he randomly does gaf)
matteo berrettini: doesn't seem too bothered by being cursed
nicolas jarry: his son is adorable
brandon nakashima: peaks against fellow americans and then goes into hiding for the rest of the season. truly an icon
matteo arnaldi: just a lil spider scuttling around the court
tomas martin etcheverry: I love how excited he gets to play novak
jan lennard struff: winning his first title at 33 was iconic
wta:
aryna sabalenka: she seems like such a genuinely fun person to be around
iga swiatek: she's so insanely talented, genuinely mesmerizing to watch when she's really on top of her game
coco gauff: always proving the haters wrong
jasmine paolini: her rise in the rankings this year was incredible
elena rybakina: I love her game so much, it's just so clean
jessica pegula: she's always randomly beating top players and I love that for her
zheng qinwen: medaling isn't for everyone but it is for her!
emma navarro: she keeps things interesting
daria kasatkina: the tennis world would be in shambles without her vlog
danielle collins: she's always honest and open
skip
barbora krejcikova: winning a slam and doing pretty much nothing else is quite the season to have
anna kalinskaya: may not be very good at converting championship points now but I think she has a really high ceiling
diana shnaider: has so much potential and a really nice game
jelena ostapneko: simply iconic
mirra andreeva: I love how much she's genuinely a fan of tennis and how she fangirls over players like andy murray
beatriz haddad maia: I admire her commitment to not playing straightforward matches
marta kostyuk: I really love the glimpses we get to her friendship with her coach (sandra zaniewska), they seem really close and it seems like sandra is the only one who can really communicate with her on court
donna vekic: randomly peaked during the summer and also against aryna sabalenka
victoria azarenka: she's so resilient
madison keys: she hits the ball so hard
karolina muchova: best volleys on either tour
magdalena frech: I don't know much about her, but it seems like she really broke through this year!
ludmilla samsonova: exclusively peaks against elena rybakina
linda noskova: really established herself on tour this year (also, I love her friendship with karo)
elina svitolina: her commitment to her foundation is genuinely inspiring
ekaterina alexandrova: beat iga once and disappeared for the rest of the season. you go girl
yulia putintseva: locks in so hard against top players
katie boulter: she seems so friendly with everyone
anastasia pavlyuchenkova: literally just chilling with her 2021 olympic gold and slam final
maria sakkari: WILL WIN INDIAN WELLS ONE DAY
leylah fernandez: I love her attitude both on court and off court, she seems very positive and kind to both others and herself
dayana yastremska: had quite possibly the funniest ban in all of tennis
elise mertens: doubles queen who also does really well in singles
anastasia potapova: did not let getting double bageled by iga stop her from maintaining her top 50 rank!
amanda anisimova: great comeback season, and also has some incredible powerful groundstrokes
wang xinyu: went from a last minute replacement in olympic mixed doubles to winning silver
hmm... I'm just gonna skip
marketa vondrousova: zero consistency but it doesn't matter, she literally won wimbledon
lulu sun: her wimbledon run this year was amazing
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alpaca-clouds · 11 months ago
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What people need to understand about the Edda
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To continue on my rant about the middle ages, let me quickly verge into the area of the Norse. To start, please remember: The culture was named "the norse", viking was just a job description so to speak. The vikings were all norse, but not all norse were vikings.
Here is the thing: Every kind of fantasy nerd loves the edda. No matter whether we talk the prose edda or the poetic edda. It does also not matter whether we are talking queer fantasy nerds - or the kinda white conservative one. Sure, they gonna focus on very different parts of the edda, but they sure fucking love the edda never the less.
There is only one problem a lot of folks do not talk about: The Edda is not really a good source. Because it was not written down by the Norse, it was written down by Snorri Sturluson, who was a Christian and he very much imposed his Christian views onto the Edda. Or to phrase it differently: We actually do not know a lot about the actual Norse mythology, partly because the Norse did not use their runes to write anything down, partly because a lot of religious sites and idols were once again destroyed as Christianity became the main religion adopted by the Norse.
Loki is the best example. We... actually do not know whether there was a god named Loki in the actual Norse mythology. Because outside of the Edda we have little to no evidence for it. And what little evidence we have does not point towards Loki, the trickster, but rather Loki, god of the heath. And we can see that a lot of the symbolism used for Loki actually does mirror very well typical medieval symbolism of Satan. Which would also explain why Loki does a lot of bullshit and gets away with it - until he doesn't and ends up with that "cruel and unusual punishment", you know?
Yes, it is to assume that quite a few aspects of the Edda are very much based on actual mythology. We have enough evidence of some of the gods existing and being prayed to, like Odin and Thor for example. We also have more than enough evidence for the people believing in dwarves and elves to some degree. But the details of most of the stories? Yeah, that is actually a lot more questionable. Because if you look at it from a comparative lense, you will actually find a lot of Christian influences in there.
This is also why this is a whole field in comparative mythology: Trying to find all those Christian influences in the Edda and then analyse why they are there and go by context and historical findings to get an understanding of what the original mythology might have been before that.
I might note, that the Norse mythology still is a lot more complete in our understanding, of course, than the Gaelic mythology. Because in the way the Gaelic mythology was written down we find a lot more stuff that clearly has been added from a Christian point of view. Like the tuatha de danann being linked to fucking Moses.
But I am really begging people to not always go "Well, actually" when it comes to Norse mythology, because even if you have memorized the Edda word for word... you still are mostly guessing which parts are Christian influence and which parts are actually Norse.
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yourdeepestfathoms · 2 months ago
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Who is “Amicia,” and how does she remind you of Perrine? I have never heard of this character before, and I am curious!
Amicia de Rune is the fifteen-year-old protagonist of the Plague Tale duology! she’s a noble French girl who had her life turned upside down when this alternate version of the Black Plague hits France, bringing alongside it literal man-eating swarms of rats, and she has to flee her home with her five-year-old brother, Hugo, where she then becomes his primary caretaker.
she is also one of the most tragic characters of all time, in my opinion.
Amicia is an extremely complex character. she is severely traumatized, something that is explored more in the second game, Requiem. she goes through absolute hell, all to protect her brother, who she originally knew barely anything about due to them never really interacting because of a strange sickness Hugo had. they end up having this really touching and tender bond, albeit with a bit of codependency on Amicia’s part.
she pushes herself to the extreme. she has no real regard for her own safety- all she cares about is her brother. she is driven by her will and her determination and her protectiveness, which also act as a detriment to her. she’s so blinded by this devotion, this role as a caretaker that she was basically forced into by her mother (fuck you, Beatrice, Sophia was a better mother than you’ll ever be, and she was a pirate who knew those kids for like two days), that it harms her and the people around her.
there’s this one part in Requiem where she’s been literally concussed, and yet she keeps on trekking forward…while being chased by men that want to kill her and her brother, so she’s having to simultaneously fight them off. and if you know anything about head injuries, you would know that a lot of exertion, like running from and killing people, is a big no-no! and even Hugo is begging her to stop and let herself rest, and she just continuously pushes herself forward.
there’s this other part, also in Requiem, where Amicia has been very badly injured, and just— the things she says, the way she keeps going even when she’s in a lot of pain, the fact that you can hear her sobbing in the background, is just so gut-wrenching.
(side note, Charlotte McBurney, Amicia’s voice actress, is EXTREMELY TALENTED, and she was fucking robbed of Best Actor during the Game Awards. her vocal performance as Amicia is chilling. it’s even more impressive that Amicia in Innocence, the first game, was her first role in anything.)
sorry, this turned into a rant about Amicia 😭 you probably didn’t want or need to know all of that.
i compare her to Perrine because…vibes.
yeah, that babbling was certain unnecessary for that 😭
it really is just vibes as of right now, though, since we still don’t know much about her.
because to me, Perrine feels like a kid who tries to keep up this calm veneer, that everything is okay, when she’s really bursting at the seams with emotions. she is the oldest, and she feels this responsibility over the others, but she doesn’t really like having that power. she is a child who lost her whimsy, her innocence, unlike everyone else around her.
much like Amicia.
also Perrine doesn’t like authority, and Amicia beefs with basically every authority figure in the second game lmao
anyway.
PLEASE play the Plague Tale games!! they were made by an indie team, and they’re absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking, both visually and emotionally. the depiction of PTSD in the second game is one of the realest and most raw portrayals i’ve ever seen in anything before. also the music is just incredible. No Turning Back in particular is probably the best song on the OST. also also i cried like twenty times on various occasions over the second game.
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tildeathiwillwrite · 7 months ago
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Watcher and Apprentice, Part 2
(The Watcher and the Thief, Chapter 1 Scene 2)
WoW Birthday Whump Day 15: "I'm Sorry."
Whumpril Day 14 (Urgent Care)(kind of), Day 19 ("I need you")
WoW Birthday Whump Event Prompts List
Whumpril Prompts List
Tales from Valaria Masterpost
part 1
TW: stitches mention, wounds mention, blood mention, anger
Context: Hector has gotten Luc back to the blockade. Now he waits outside the medical tent, wondering if his apprentice will survive.
Aaaaand that's a wrap for this whump event! Thank you so much to @whumperofworlds for all the prompts! I will continue to participate in Whumpril, so stay tuned for more of that.
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“You’re going to kill the grass if you keep pacing like that.”
Hector paused mid-step and glared at the nearby elf, who sat cross-legged outside the medical tent, polishing his silver daggers. “By the depths, de Silv, he just got attacked by a magician, of all things!”
“True,” the elf replied. His hands were busied with the daggers, but his eyes, sharp as the blades, were fixed on Hector. “And I’m as concerned about that as you are concerned about your apprentice.”
“Then excuse me if I’m a little restless!” Hector snapped. He began pacing again, hands clasped firmly together behind his back. They'd gotten back to the blockade in record time. Luc’s heart was still beating when he’d set the boy on the table inside the medical tent. Unfortunately, the healers, Silas and Ven, immediately kicked Hector out so they could treat him in peace.
Assholes.
Octavian sighed, sliding his daggers into their sheathes. “From what I had glimpsed of your apprentice’s injuries, I am certain that, despite the blood loss, he should make a full recovery.”
“I’ll be sure to keep your professional opinion in mind.”
A series of shrill whistles echoed throughout the camp. One short whistle, one long whistle, pause. Two long whistles, one short whistle. Hector froze, mentally translating the code. A-G. It wasn’t the alert for a sang attack, three short whistles in quick succession. So what did A-G mean?
Octavian rose to his feet, the ghost of a smile on his face. “My presence is requested. I wish your apprentice a swift recovery.” The elf bowed his head to Hector and departed.
Ah. Ag was the alchemical abbreviation for silver. De Silv. It was a clever, if strange, bit of code. Why did de Silv have a signal to himself?
Before Hector could dwell on it further, one of the healers, Ven, emerged from the medical tent. “Watcher, you may enter. We have something we must discuss.”
Hector raised an eyebrow but did what he was told, following Ven inside. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he saw Luc conscious, sitting on the table as Silas finished wrapping bandages around his torso. The healer nodded to Hector as he entered. “Watcher.”
“Silas. You need to talk?”
Both healers glanced at each other for a brief second. Silas gave a slight nod, and Ven turned back to Hector, her expression grim. “His injuries are superficial. We should have been able to close them without stitches. But even with stitches, the skin refuses to heal itself. The blood won’t even clot. We’ve never seen anything like it, even from runes.”
Hector gritted his teeth, eyes on his apprentice. Luc’s face still hadn’t regained its color, but he seemed alert enough. “What are you saying?”
“The wound is cursed,” Silas said softly, “the runes make it so his body can’t heal itself.” He pointed to a bandage wrapped around Luc’s arm. “And it’s not just the runes she carved into his skin that won’t close.”
“Our methods accelerate the body’s natural healing process,” Ven clarified, eyes downcast, “but we can’t do anything if the blood won’t clot. I’m sorry, Watcher.”
Hector stared at them for a long moment as he tried to process their words. His wounds won’t heal? A rune could do that? The full implications hit him like an arrow fired at full draw, and he swore vehemently, slamming his fist into the table.
The healers flinched back at his outburst. “It… it is possible that the rune is only slowing his healing,” Silas ventured, “given time, he might recover.”
“Might? Might?!” Hector barked a harsh laugh, trying to stomp his rising fury before he lashed out further. “You just told me he’s going to slowly bleed out! If infection doesn’t get him first!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Luc, your mother is going to kill me when she finds out about… about how….”
He trailed off. No need to say the last part of that sentence.
“May we speak alone, please?” Luc asked softly. Ven and Silas glanced at each other before quickly leaving the tent. Hector and Luc were left in silence for several moments.
“It’s not your fault,” Luc said. Hector opened his mouth, but Luc held up a hand. “No. You couldn’t have known this would happen. No one could.”
Hector sighed. Unfortunately, he was right. “I just… is there really nothing more they can do for you? Are we just supposed to wait and see if your wounds close on their own?”
“I don’t plan on it. They’re planning on sending me back to Caenum to recover. Apparently they’re sending a messenger to the Draigo, to get someone to track down the magician.”
“Good,” Hector muttered, “she deserves to be brought to justice. Shame I couldn’t do it myself.” As he finished speaking, the first part of Luc’s response registered. “Wait, what do you mean ‘you don’t plan on it’?”
His apprentice inhaled slowly, steeling himself for what he was about to say. That was never a good sign, coming from Luc. He only did that when he was about to suggest something completely—
“I’m going to find a magician to reverse the curse.”
There it was.
Hector took a few deep breaths and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want you to repeat that, except this time actually pay attention to what comes out of your mouth.”
“It’s not going to be the same magician!” Luc retorted as if that made the idea any better. “One of the wandering magicians from around Zariya or Valdove, one who we know for a fact isn’t a sang-hunting serial killer.”
“Do I have to spell out for you just how bad of an idea this is?” Hector started pacing the length of the tent. His apprentice was already responsible for several gray hairs on his head and seemed intent on giving him more. “No. Absolutely not. We’re going back to Caenum—”
“Where I can slowly bleed out? Or let my wounds get infected?”
Hector paused and glared at Luc, but the boy continued talking. “If we go back to Caenum, I will die. We haven’t seen a magician there in years! But if we seek out someone like… I don’t know… Qila Scoria? She might be able to undo the runes.”
“You’re insane.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Hector sighed. “No.”
“So it’s viable?”
Hector fixed his apprentice with a flat stare. “It’s viable… but if your wounds get worse, we’re going back to Caenum. Are we clear?”
Luc grinned. “Clear as glass.”
@fourwingedsnake @whumpril @pigeonwhumps
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