#just dust and magic and magical artifacts

[strqyr]

i've had a weird revelation while making a yet another au with writing blake. like, her interacting with ilia, adam, sienna, hell, even yuma? i'm having the time of my life, girl is thriving.

but when it comes to writing her with her actual team i'm here like 🧍‍♂️

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than pits

Had a neat idea for a sacrifice effect, also Trauma Center cards

[thewickedjazzy]

Blood, Sweat & Tears [Sex Pollen] for Kinktober.

♡「knight! akutagawa x afab! reader.」

Synopsis: you drag your loyal knight to a secluded antique shop, unaware that a cursed relic would force him to quench his insatiable desire for you, leaving him one choice only...fuck or watch you both die.

Warnings and w/c: 3.1k. ņsfw, smųt with plot, dead dove ー read at your own risk, dub-con, blood, cum, manipulation, age gap (aku is in his 30s YUM), sex pollen (obv.) slight implied knife play (rashomon)...etc.

“ryuu-kun, c'mon! why are you so stiff? just relax!” you giggle softly, tugging on the poor man's black shoulder cape as you practically drag him toward the entrance of the haunted antique shop.

truth be told, akutagawa wasn’t hesitant —at least, not for the reasons you assumed. the idea of going against the king’s orders wasn’t something he took lightly. defying authority was not a habit for a devoted knight like him, and he had never imagined himself in a situation like this. but for you?

oh — for you, he would go against any order. he would take any risk just to see your eyes light up, to hear that carefree laugh of yours that always seemed to make the heavy burdens on his heart feel lighter. lord! how he loves to just see your cheeks flush, the delicate pink hue resembling the sakura in full bloom ー his new favorite colour.

akutagawa had been by your side for years, from your childhood through your teenage years, and now, as you stepped into adulthood, he couldn't help but notice how things had changed. he had seen your growth with his own eyes, and it disturbed him more than he'd ever admit. you were becoming someone who could get into trouble with ease, and while he was too loyal to question you, the protective instinct in him was stronger than ever.

“i’m relaxed, with all due respect, don't you think you're being a bit reckless?” despite his apparent annoyance, his eyes soften as they find yours. there was something captivating about the way your eyes glimmer under the poor light of the shop, like stars in a forgotten sky.

you step further into the abandoned shop, soft giggles echo as akutagawa’s reluctant footsteps follow close behind. the place feels like it hasn’t seen sunlight in ages, dust dances in the beams filtering through the cracked windows, illuminating shelves filled with eerie artifacts and relics of a forgotten age. for you? this was simply an adventure — a moment of thrill in an otherwise carefully controlled life.

“look, ryuu-kun! isn’t it fascinating?” you point toward an ornate mirror standing tall at the back of the shop. its frame is twisted, covered in intricate carvings that seem almost to shift as you stare at them. “wooah! i’ve never seen anything like it.”

the knight watches you approach the mirror, every instinct tells him this place isn’t safe, that there’s a dark enchantment here that could harm you. but your enthusiasm and willingness to explore, pulls him in against his better judgment.

“your highness...” he says softly despite the danger evident in his voice, “don’t touch it. we don’t know what kind of curse or magic might lie within that thing.”

but of course you’re already inches away, mesmerized by your own reflection in the mirror’s surface as if it almost seems to beckon you, whispering captivating, incoherent lullabies that you can’t quite decipher. your fingers reach out, grazing the glass searching for the source of the sound. but the moment you make contact, an odd chill courses through you, and the reflection changes, warping, revealing shadows of something darker within.

and suddenly, you’re not looking at yourself anymore. instead, you see visions flickering across the mirror — scenes of solitude, a vast, empty world where you stand utterly alone. the cheerful warmth in your chest vanishes, replaced by a cold sense of despair. you try your best to step back, but your gaze remains locked onto the mirror as if bound by an invisible force.

akutagawa’s eyes widen as he watches you freeze, your expression shifting from delight to horror. without a second thought, he lunges forward, pulling you away, but not before his eyes accidentally catch his own reflection. and again, the mirror’s black magic grips him, and for a fleeting moment, he sees something horrifying — the blood stained memories of his past in the port mafia, of every life he’s taken, every failure, every ounce of suffering he encountered.

“r-ryuu-kun…” you try to speak but you're disoriented...pale, leaning against him as you struggle to steady your breathing.

he shakes himself free, grip tightening slightly on your arm. “we need to leave. NOW.”

you nod, feeling a strange, lingering heaviness creeping inside your chest. arguing feels pointless, afterall he’s the reason you’re still alive and kicking up till now. you murmur a soft “i’m sorry,” but he doesn’t respond. without a glance, he strides toward the door pulling you along with him.

and just as he reaches the threshold, a sweet, floral yet infused with a dangerously intoxicating heady scent looms around you both, almost as if the scent itself seeps into your senses, leaving your body heating up and your thoughts hazy.

“ryuu?… i don’t feel well-… what do we—what's happening to me?” your voice is barely audible, the heat sensation spreading through you rapidly, making your cheeks flush more and your breaths come quicker, each inhale carrying more of that cloying scent, filling your senses until all you can think about is the knight by your side.

“it's the curse,” he mutters, “i-it won't break unless we give... blood, and... uh- more.”

you look up at him and it’s clear he’s struggling just as much, flushed and panting heavily. you instinctively cling to him, seeking closure against your own will, and he finds himself leaning closer, almost reflexively. despite the losing battle within him to resist, he begins to tell himself that perhaps fulfilling this desire is the only way to break free of the mirror’s spell? perhaps it's the only way to truly protect you? there’s no time to consider if it’s twisted or not, he's silently beating himself up for letting you get hurt in the first place.

he tries his best to keep his thoughts under control, but it's nearly impossible with the enchanted pollen's effect taking over his mind and turning him into a puppet of it's own making and the line between his sense of duty to protect you and his desire to make the aching pain in his pants go away becomes harder to see.

“your majesty..” he murmurs almost apologetically as he lowers his face close to yours, a deep blush spreads across your cheeks as you finally understand — this isn't just about you and him anymore. this is about survival, about breaking the curse that binds you. blood and cum must mix in order for the magic to release its grip. is it grotesque? yes, but in this moment, it’s the only way out.

your eyes are heavily half-lidded, lips parted perfectly, a few beads of sweat trace your cupid’s bow as you clench onto him with wobbly legs, your thoughts absolutely shameless, cunt instinctively clenching around nothing, are you actually craving him? the knight who has been by your side for so many years — the one who’s spent countless hours guarding and protecting you — is now stirring feelings you’d only ever brushed aside. you would be lying if you said that you never thought of him this way, there was something about the familiar warmth he carried that made you want to stay wrapped in his arms forever.

“ryuu-kun.. i-it hurts so bad— please make it stop.” you cry, though you're not sure whether you're asking for release from the curse or for something else entirely. the look you're giving him is so pathetic that he can't help but dart out his tongue to wet his lips, before smashing his lips on yours feverishly, you both grunt in relief, you're not sure what's happening but it's seems to work. he slips his agile tongue between your parted lips, spit mingles with lewd mewls as he pins you against the wall, hands fumbling with his garments, taking his pants off, unbuttoning his black tonic, almost everything as to free himself from the suffocating layers of fabric, before fully pressing his bare upper body against yours.

“your highness... i'm sorry,” the words are soft, but the look in his eyes is anything but. there’s a lurking emotion there that he rarely reveals— less guilt, and more... eagerness? surely he knows the stakes of this spell too well. he understands the strength and danger of it, how it could kill you both in less than an hour if you don’t break it. yet, akutagawa’s no saint. he's a deviant, laced with sin and shameless thirst, an absolute reprobate. even as he’s forced into this for your survival. there’s an obscene side to him he can’t hide, a filthy hunger in how his gaze trails over your body, wondering how it’ll feel when you’re wrapped tight around him, how you’ll respond to him thrusting into you. will you bite back a scream? will you moan his name, too breathless, too fucked out to form a word?

either ways, there's no point for him to guess as he'll be witnessing it shortly. strong and boney hands tremble as they run wild against your body till they reach your pants pulling them down, he's too engrossed in your details as a muffled groan escapes his pretty lips before he slides down your nectar-soaked panties, taking both your legs wrapping them around his narrow waist, holding you close as if he can’t bear the thought of you slipping away from him. with a shaky sigh as he pops the buttons of your shirt, catching the beautiful euphoric sight of your breasts spilling over your bra.

“there's no time, please trust me on this,” just a few words to trick himself that what he's doing is only for your survival. his disheveled black and white locks brush your cheek as he presses quick, breathless kisses to your temple.

you manage to nod, feeling his hard cock press against your puffy folds from beneath, and your hips subconsciously buck yearning for any friction to ease the swell of pain building rapidly in your core.

however, it's short-lived, as in mere seconds, he's plunging into you with a deep, throaty groan, his entire body trembling as if he's been transported to another dimension. a wave of tingling ecstasy floods through him, muscles tightening as his fingers dig into your bare shoulders, holding you close.

“f-fuhckmmh- your highness-” he whimpers against your ear, the heat radiating from his body is absolutely insane, “forgiv-e me—,”another thrust, “i am bound to protect you— not to desecrate you like this.”

“i-it's fine,” you murmur, soft fingers gripping his face to force him to look at you. “i trust you ryuu-kun.”

what other options do you have? none.

he just stares at you for a few seconds before thrusting again. his hips start moving leisurely at first, stretching you deliciously as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his mesmerising scent, feeling every agonising movement of his flawless cock picking up its pace by each passing second and the instant he bottoms out, he practically 'pounds' into you deeper, harder, each stroke finding a new angle that leaves you gasping for air.

his own pleasure is muffling his ears. he still cannot believe it. he's been waiting for this moment his entire life, to finally fuck his monarch that's been taking over his thoughts each passing night, getting him atrociously horny.

“oh god, you feel ngh~ heavenly—,” it's a whisper more to himself, knobby hands gripping the swell of your ass as he rams into you manically, “blood...we- fuck! have to mix blood.”

before you can make sense of it, he conjures a faint trace of rashomon from his tonic, its shadowy tendrils coiling around his sleeve, sharp enough to slice yet gentle in his intent. he presses the edge to your palm, watching a bead of crimson pool against your skin.

the sharp sting pulls a gasp from your lips, your dazed mind barely registering the act before akutagawa does the same to himself. dark silver eyes smoulder with lust as he guides both your bleeding palms to his cock, smearing the mingled blood over it, the warm slickness adding to the sinful mess already coating him.

“ryuu-” you breathe, with a trembling voice, whether from pain or arousal, you’re not sure.

his eyes meet yours before you feel the soft clouds of his lips crash onto yours, it's all desperate and messy, teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. the metallic tang spreads across your tongue, blending with the taste of him as he drinks in your broken moans, tongue delves deeper into your mouth, spit melding together as he aligns himself with your slit once more. his blood-slickened cock slides back into you, each thrust feels heavier, deeper, as if the leverage of the curse itself presses against you both, urging you to fulfill its dark demands.

“just a litt-le more,” he rasps, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a delicate trail of violet bruises and ruptured vessels.

a borderline salacious symphony of sounds echoes, wet and obscene, sopping and slick, each thrust accompanied by a squeaky rhythm as his balls slap against your pillowy ass cheeks. your eyes roll back in a bliss, glossy lips parting lusciously in a wanton moan, every vein and ridge of him dragging you closer to euphoric oblivion.

“ryuu... i can’t...” you sob, nails digging into his back as the pressure in your core mounts, legs trembling around his waist. “i... i can’t take it anymore...”

“stay with me, your majesty haah,” he murmurs breathlessly, lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you deeper. “we need... to break it. just a little longer... please...”

his hands clutch at your hips, pulling you into each thrust until all that’s left is the white-hot pressure of the spell, of the lust, threatening to swallow you both. his cock throbs inside you, and it’s clear— he can’t hold back any longer.

“please, ryuu... i’m—” you bite your lip, unable to finish as the knot in your belly tightens, ready to burst.

akutagawa's focus narrows, all he can think about is you, how your breasts bounce with each thrust, body arching beneath his, exposing the delicate curve of your neck— everything about you is perfect in this moment, and he can't tear his eyes away. the sight of your face contorted in pleasure, the pout tugging on your lips, the way your legs tremble, how your hips move to meet his, how your nails drag across his back starved for his naked skin. is this his body on yours? is he finally feeling you? kissing you? fucking you?

'god, look at you,' he can barely think, his thoughts fragmented, lost in the instinctual need to bury himself deeper, to take more, to feel more. the way you tighten around him, the slick, wet warmth of your cunt — he’s fucking drowning in it.

'fucking beautiful.'

a few thrusts of akutagawa’s hips and his name tears from your lips in a breathless, desperate cry, the sound of your orgasm crashing over you like a truck, slamming into him with brutal force. your walls flutter and clench around his cock, milking him, dragging him deeper into the molten heat of your release.

his vision blurs, heart thundering in his chest as his hearing dulls to nothing but the wet, obscene noises of your bodies joined together. for the first time in his life, he is obliterated by the sheer, soul-stealing intensity of his orgasm, his cock still twitching violently as he spills deep inside you, his seed mingles with the blood smeared between you, the combined essence finally breaking the curse’s seal.

“i-is it over?”

akutagawa doesn’t answer immediately, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he struggles to gather himself. his meaty length that's still buried inside you twitches, body refusing to move, refusing to let go of the impossible warmth and tightness of your walls. the thought of pulling out feels unbearable, like he’d be severing himself from something sacred.

“yes,” he finally rasps, “the curse is broken.”

still, he doesn’t move, his grip on your hips tightening imperceptibly. every inch of him aches to stay like this, to savor the raw, feral perfection of you wrapped around him. but he won’t say it — not to you, not to your highness. it’s not his place to speak such desires aloud. instead, he forces himself to swallow the words, forcing his breathing to even out as he pulls out of you despite the burning need still coiling in his gut.

without a word, he moves to gather your clothes, fingers brushing over your skin tenderly in a way that feels foreign coming from him, as if he’s afraid that, if he rushes, it’ll break something.

“rest, your highness. please, don’t move,” he ties the fabric hovering near your ear as his soft upper lip brushes your sensitive skin with a low murmur. “you’re safe now.”

“safe...” you repeat the word, almost testing it on your tongue.

“at least for now, but the curse... it doesn’t work like that. it’s not just broken once. it could flare up again in a few days... and when it does,” he pauses, allowing his words to settle in for a few seconds. “we’ll have to repeat the ritual.”

he’s a liar. a filthy, self-loathing liar.

the curse is broken. it has been broken since that moment. nothing will flare up again. it’s absolutely impossible. the ritual is complete. there is no reason for him to say this, no reason at all. but still, he can’t help himself. he lies, not to protect you—but to keep you. to keep you near him, just a little longer.

“we’ll have our next time soon,” he mutters to himself, he hates himself for it. every fiber of his being recoils at the thought of deceiving you like this, manipulating you with his twisted words, but the words are already sealed in his mind. mostly like a promise — one he will keep. and this time, he won’t stop.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @perlaslibrary @remlionheart @osamucide @ranpazz @naviiq

[ruzz9]

Possession in Darkness

NSFW +18

Severus Snape x Fem!reader

Summary: Deep within the castle, the Defense professor sought a sphere that revealed hidden desires—she didn’t expect Severus Snape to find her, nor for it to expose his: her.

A/N: Support the content! I just opened this Tumblr account, and I hope you like it and enjoy it. I'm a Spanish speaker! If you spot any translation mistakes, let me know. l did way too many revisions.

Warning/Content: Smut, Claustrophobia, Possessiveness, Rough, Intense Encounters, Voyeurism Implication, Professor x Professor.

The wing of the castle where disused magical objects were stored had an air of abandonment, with dust suspended in the dim light filtering through the tall windows. Crooked shelves held artifacts of uncertain origins. Some boxes were sealed with enchantments, while others barely held their structure, overflowing with tattered parchments and vials of evaporated potions.

Among these remnants of the past, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor moved with the ease of someone accustomed to roaming such places. Minerva had asked her to retrieve a particular object: a black crystal sphere contained in a dusty display case at the back of the storeroom, said to be an enchanted artifact that reflected the forbidden desires of whoever possessed it.

After wandering the area for a brief moment, she finally located the case, carefully taking the artifact and wiping its surface with her fingers. The crystal seemed to absorb the faint light in the room, swirling shadows forming within it, shaping a vision that stole her breath.

She saw herself, draped in a flowing black robe that moved like liquid ink over her skin. Her face held an unusual intensity, contrasting with the paleness of her smile. It was not the playful grin she often showed others, nor the polite courtesy she reserved for her colleagues. No. It was something more dangerous, more intimate.

Beside her, the silhouette of a tall man emerged from the shadows. His presence was imposing, ethereal, yet it did not frighten her.

A shiver ran down her spine.

The image captivated her, her breathing growing deeper—a mix of fascination and dread. But just as the vision was about to draw her in further, a voice shattered the silence.

"Enjoying the view?". The low, icy voice came from right behind her. Close. Too close.

Severus Snape.

She startled. Her heart lurched, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. In her abrupt movement, the sphere slipped from her fingers. She reached for it clumsily, to keep him from seeing what was reflected in the crystal. But before she could do anything, his hand caught the sphere mid-air with the precision of someone who had stopped more than one fall in his life.

Snape exhaled impatiently.

"You should be more careful, Y/L/N. It wouldn't be the first time an ancient magical artifact was destroyed by someone with your… delicacy."

His tone was sharp, but she barely heard him. Her attention was fixed on the sphere, now resting in his hands. More specifically, on what it was now reflecting.

Snape frowned at her expression and lowered his gaze.

What he saw left him motionless.

In the crystal, he was holding her in his arms. Not as in a duel. Not in a gesture of professional protection. No. His hands gripped her with authority, leaving no room for escape, his fingers digging into her skin. His reflection did not hesitate. His mouth claimed hers in a silent demand. His eyes… radiated absolute possession. There was no coldness in his reflection, no reserve. Only the certainty that she belonged to him.

The real Snape felt his stomach twist. Deep down, that dark truth terrified him as much as it tempted him.

His jaw tightened. With a slow, deliberate movement, he set the sphere down on a nearby table as though it burned him.

He crossed his arms beneath his robes, an instinctive gesture of recoil, hiding his hands, closing in on himself as if that could erase what he had just seen.

The silence between them thickened, electric.

She, who until now had enjoyed provoking him with harmless flirtation, felt the shift in the air. She knew him well enough to understand that if she spoke now, he would use it as a wall between them, an excuse to bury what had just happened beneath a layer of sarcasm or disdain.

But the image had been there, in the sphere—clear, undeniable.

"Severus..." Her voice was a soft echo in the space that separated them. She was about to say something else, but Snape raised a hand—straight, firm. A silent gesture that stopped her.

His expression was unreadable, but the sharpness in his gaze betrayed an internal conflict. Without another word, he turned on his heels to leave.

She stopped him before he could take a step. Her fingers closed around his wrist—not with force, but just enough to make him stop.

Snape couldn’t help but look at her. His face, always so restrained, hardened even more, but his eyes darkened with something that wasn’t just anger. It was something else. Something more dangerous.

She should have looked away. Pretended she hadn’t seen the way he held her in that reflection minutes before. But she didn’t. She understood instantly. It wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t simple hunger. It was possession.

She had always known there was something about him that intrigued her, something that resisted yielding, that refused to show vulnerability. She had always enjoyed provoking him, testing the limits of his patience just to see how his brow furrowed with contained irritation. But now she saw it clearly: it wasn’t annoyance that burned in his gaze every time she contradicted him. It was restraint. It was a need suffocated beneath layers of implacable self-control.

And the worst part—the most thrilling part—was that this desire of his now belonged to her. He could deny it, resist it, try to hide it. But she had seen it. She knew.

And if Severus Snape craved the forbidden… she would let him have it. But on her terms.

It was in that moment that she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It wasn’t a measured or cautious kiss. It was a direct assault, an invasion of his space with the same brazenness she usually used to provoke him—but with a different intensity.

He did not respond immediately. He did not push her away, but neither did he yield.

She pulled away from his lips slightly, searching for any sign of a reaction.

There were no words, no warnings.

Severus' hand hesitated for a moment, his expression dangerous, and then he relented, sliding his long, cold fingers to the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair with an unexpected possessiveness. His mouth met hers again, but this time with intentionality. The kiss deepened, becoming a silent struggle between need and pride.

She felt him falter a step back, and she used it to her advantage. With one hand, she fumbled beside her until she found the rough wood of a nearby cabinet. Without stopping the kiss, she opened it.

Snape made a small sound of confusion, mixed with something that could have been irritation, but when she nudged him slightly inside, he didn't resist.

His back hit the wall of the cabinet, shadows swallowing them as the door closed behind them. The reduced space intensified the closeness, the heat trapped between their bodies.

The darkness was almost total, except for the faint silver glimmers filtering in from outside, from the tall windows that illuminated the large room. The gloom only intensified the sensation of proximity, each ragged breath bouncing between the wooden walls.

She smiled against his lips. The mere fact of being in this situation—with the man who had always displayed a certain rivalry towards her, whose ambition had led him to covet the position she held in the castle—was thrilling in itself. And yet, at the same time, she was one of his deepest, most unspoken desires.

There was something perversely delightful in knowing it, that they both burned with the same dark hunger, and shared an undeniable vice: the exquisite taste for the forbidden, and having seen it reflected in the crystal had only confirmed it.

Snape remained rigid at first, his back against the wall, as if his body refused to accept where he was, with whom he was, and what he was about to do.

But she did not give him space to think too much.

Her hands slowly ascended through the folds of his robe until they rested on his neck, her thumb brushing the line of his jaw.

"You're still tense..." she murmured, her voice barely a breath against his skin.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly through his nose, his self-control wavering.

"This is folly."

"It is," she admitted, without letting him go. "But that didn't stop you from reciprocating."

He half-opened his eyes, his gaze trapped between resignation and desire. The dim light barely allowed his features to be glimpsed, but she knew him well enough to know that he was on the edge of a decision.

A second of doubt.

One second more.

And then, without prior notice, his hand slid, tangling around her waist, pulling her towards him with a certainty he had not shown before. Leaning in, he kissed the curve of her neck, his other hand exploring her body in slow and firm movements.

The fabric of the dress was not an obstacle to the heat of his palm as it ascended, to the soft curve of her breast. His fingers brushed the fabric with a barely suggested caress, but the shiver that ran through her body betrayed her. He pressed his lips together, torn between reason and desire, as his hand instinctively molded to the perfect shape beneath his fingertips. The thin fabric did not conceal the latent firmness nor the subtle accelerated heartbeat of her. He shouldn't... but neither could he pull away.

Between ragged sighs, his hot breath crashed against the bare skin of her neck. "Why...?" he murmured, but the question remained suspended in the air, vanishing between doubt and the scorching heat that held him back.

She did not respond. She couldn't. The pressure of their bodies in the reduced space stole her breath, clouded her thoughts.

She moved just enough to feel the brush of his rigid length against her leg, sparking a friction that ignited the air between them.

The spell broke when he exhaled sharply, his hand clenching the fabric of her dress. A tug. An upward slide that trapped the skirt between his fingers, taking it with him, lifting it with desperate clumsiness. The fabric swirled against her skin in a searing touch, while Severus’ fingers tightened around her bare thigh, pulling her toward him.

And without warning, without taking the time to check if she was ready for him, he claimed her with a firm, intense thrust—leaving no room for restraint, simply entering her, demanding, insistent. But by then, she was already so damn wet, making the slide of their connection both smooth and scorching, a clash of need and pleasure that left them breathless.

The lack of space forced them into erratic, clumsy, urgent movements. Her back collided with the wooden shelves, making small bottles and boxes creak around them, but neither of them stopped. Her hands sought him with the same desperation with which he held her trapped, lips parted, brushing against each other in a kiss that barely had time to form before dissolving into gasps against skin.

She moaned his name, and he answered with a low growl, something unintelligible, burying his face in her neck. A rougher movement, and suddenly, she was on top of him, her legs wrapped around him, their backs slamming into the wood harder than expected. The fragile furniture trembled, threatening to betray them, but desire had buried all caution.

The next movement silenced them. A strangled gasp, an instant of paralysis when their bodies met with no barriers. Severus gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into her hips with the restraint of a man forcing himself to hold back.

She arched against him, her nails clawing at the fabric of his robes. The rhythm took on a life of its own—an erratic, frantic motion that made the structure frame squeak in protest. Breaths turned into broken, ragged gasps, swallowed into kisses that never quite managed to form.

The cabinet was a chaos of friction and muffled collisions, of bodies crashing together with an almost painful need. And within that chaos, Severus held her tighter, guiding her into a rhythm that teetered on the edge of absolute abandon.

There was only their bodies, their open mouths gasping for air, the relentless pressure of something that could not—would not—stop.

Minerva McGonagall had entered the room in silence, her brow furrowed, searching for the professor Y/N. She had taken too long, and that did not sit well with her in the slightest.

She came to an abrupt halt, trying to identify a peculiar sound that resonated in the heavy air of the storeroom.

The Headmistress’s eyes widened suddenly.

It was a sigh.

A deep, guttural sigh.

And it belonged to Severus Snape.

Minerva paled, unable to process what she had just heard, when another sound struck her with even greater clarity: the sweet, melodious gasp of Professor Y/N.

Inside the cabinet, the end came like an incantation, an unbearable tension that shook them both at once, tearing a muffled moan from their lips, stifled between their heated skin. They remained like that, trembling, their foreheads pressed together, their bodies still entwined.

And then, McGonagall stumbled back a step, her mind refusing to accept the scene hidden behind the cabinet doors. But fate was merciless. In her attempt to retreat, she tripped over a pile of old cauldrons and rusted armor, creating a deafening clatter.

The heap of cauldrons collapsed all at once, the sound echoing thunderously against the stone floor, impossible to hide.

Inside the cabinet, they both froze, their bodies rigid, their breathing caught in the suffocating air.

A voice accompanied the commotion.

—"Bloody hell…!"

The voice was a strangled whisper, barely a surprised gasp.

—"Oh! I’m sorry… I… "

Minerva’s voice, usually firm and commanding, now sounded unsteady, nervous—a fractured thread between urgency and disbelief.

—"I shouldn’t have… I just arrived… I was just leaving…"

Her feeble attempt at an excuse barely held together.

Silence fell like a paralyzing spell. They both held their breath, motionless, their pulse still pounding wildly beneath their skin.

Outside, a muffled murmur, the faint shuffle of hesitant footsteps. And then, the storeroom door slammed shut with more force than necessary.

Silence returned, thick, stifling.

She exhaled shakily, still clinging to Severus’s body, feeling the heat seeping through the fabric. Her legs were still wrapped around his waist, her chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths, and then—consciousness of the moment struck her with brutal clarity.

Slowly, she slid her hands from his neck to his shoulders, searching for something solid to steady herself. With clumsy, almost trembling movements, she loosened the grip of her legs, shifting until her feet touched the ground. She pulled away carefully, avoiding his gaze, her face burning with heat, a weight pressing in her chest that made it hard to breathe.

She did not dare look up. Not yet.

Severus, on the other hand, remained motionless, his breathing still uneven, his jaw tense. When she finally pulled away, his body seemed to resent the loss of contact, but his pride prevailed.

He raised a hand to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. Cursing his very existence.

And then, without a single word, he stepped out of the cabinet.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Kaer Morhen keeps a lot of magic objects.

One of them is a mirror that shows you the most beautiful person in the world; however, it does so based on your subjective opinion. Beauty is inherently subjective, so the spell couldn’t work in an objective manner.

The young witchers used to dare each other to stand in front of the mirror. A risky thing to do if the person who showed up in the mirror was another trainee. Or—gods forbid—an instructor.

Nowadays, it just gathers dust in the crumbling Keep.

OoOoOoOOoOooOohoh, I love artifacts and relics and magical mishaps!!!! I can already imagine the many shenanigans the kaer morons and the bard would get into with this "Geralt, how come I only see you in this old mirror?" "Wait- WHICH OLD MIRROR????"

[fatkish]

Hii!! I just ran into your Mashle x reader post requests.

Could I request a rayne ames x reader with reader being something like frieren (not an elf) where she's like an expert at mana magic and ancient magic? Also they are from the orca dorm and besties with Macaron (a little hint hint nudge nudge at platonic Margerette x reader)?

(I haven’t seen Frieren so if this isn’t what you were expecting or wanting, I apologize, also, I slightly based the reader off of Eclipsa from Star VS the Forces of Evil)

Rayne Ames x Ancient Magic User Reader

For a long time, people have always believed that you were weak. Despite hours and hours of studying magic and practicing casting spells, you were never any good at it. What’s even more strange is that you were born a double liner. Many people believed you were a fake, but it was just that you were terrible with magic, or so you thought. Your parents were Magic historians, their job was to discover and study ancient magic ruins and the like. One day, your parents brought you to a ruin thinking it would be good for you. How right they were.

As they began to slowly explore and document the new ruins they found, you were bored and decided to roam around. As you walked through the ruins of what was believed to be a temple, you came across a room deeper within. The outside of the temple had deteriorated and crumbled from age but the deeper in you went, the less damage there was. Due to your parent’s job, you understood ancient language and had a basic understanding of various ancient alphabets. Looking at the inscriptions surrounding the door, you took a moment to study them, translating what they said out loud. Suddenly the inscriptions lit up, the surrounding inscriptions and decals along the walls began to glow as the glowing spread throughout the temple’s remains.

The door to the room slowly opened and you walked inside. The room was filled with various things, jars, pots, strange artifacts, it smelled strongly of dust, but lying on what seemed to be a table was an old book. It was thick, the cover was made of leather, giving it a brown color. Being careful not to damage it, you slowly and gently opened it. You began to inspect the pages, seeing how much damage the book had. The book was in surprisingly good condition considering how long it must have been left here. You were looking at one of the pages when you accidentally cut your finger on the edge as you went to turn it. Your blood dropped onto the book, as the pages slowly soaked in your blood, the book began to shake. Your parents had walked in at that moment and saw the book begin to levitate as the things in the room began to shake as well.

Terrified, you asked your parents what was going on, only for them to smile at you. Your parents began to study the room and had discovered that an ancient powerful mage had lived in this temple. This book had belonged to them and was full of all their spells and wisdom. To prevent just anyone from being able to access the book, the mage cast a powerful protective spell that kept the room’s contents safe from outside forces and helped preserve what laid inside. The only way to undo the spell was for someone with the proper latent abilities to speak the inscription surrounding the door. Turns out, you suck at modern magic, but you’re beyond skilled at ancient magic. Seeing as no one else was able to read or open the book, your parents let you keep it. You began to study and decipher what text was in the book.

Years later, you had become quite gifted in the ancient arts. You had a thirst for knowledge and thus, when you were accepted into Easton, you were sorted into Orca dorm. Most people ridiculed you in the beginning since you sucked at basic spells, your potions were all messed up and either had the wrong effects or were absolute garbage. You couldn’t even ride a broom. During your first year at Easton, you finally finished crafting your own wand, according the the book’s instructions. Your wand looked somewhat like an umbrella with a large eye like crystal at the top of it. When opened, the umbrella part would glow and lift you off the ground allowing you to fly to wherever you wanted.

There were a few people who overlooked your initial impression, one of those being Magarette Macaron. Although people believed you to be weak and suck at magic, you did enjoy playing the guitar and bass, which Margarette found out. Due to both of you being rather peculiar individuals, you got along rather well. Often times, when you weren’t studying, you’d be with Margarette jamming out together. Even though you were more of a rock and roll compared to Margarette’s classical style, you both got along. Margarette would help you out in class as you struggled to weave ancient magic into modern spells. The very first time you tried to mix the two in class was a disaster.

You had been in class sitting at your desk with Margarette next to you as you guys were studying a protection spell. The spell was supposed to create a small barrier that weak spells couldn’t pass through. You had brought your book and had searched through it for a similar spell. You had tried to alter the ancient spell to mimic the modern one, only for it to literally blow up in your face and everyone else’s while sending you flying into the wall at the back of the classroom. By trying to combine the two magics, the spell backfired and didn’t work causing the explosion. When Wahlberg had discussed what happened with you, he decided it would be better for everyone if you stuck to using only ancient magic and had the lessons tailored to you.

After that day, whenever you had a class, the teachers would notify you and tell you what you would be doing a day or two before the class. This way you could come prepared with an ancient spell, technique, potion or whatever that would be equivalent to what the other students were learning. With these new accommodations, you were quickly rising and becoming one of the strongest students in the school. It might take you a bit longer to reach the same results as your peers, but there’s no doubt that you are a force to be reckoned with. It was during your second year at Easton that you officially met Rayne Ames.

During the Divine Visionary exam, you easily took the lead, with your abundance of powerful ancient spells, the competition was merely child’s play. Not only were your spells powerful, but you had an array of different types of spells that you could use as opposed to people’s normal one type. It didn’t matter how fearsome your opponents were, or how long the battles took, the moment you saw a weakness however slight, you attacked with full force. Like a dam, you turned the slightest trickle from the most minuscule crack, into a raging current from a gaping hole. Whether it was a weakness in magical ability, emotional or mental weakness, or even physical, any weakness you saw, you took advantage of. It was during the final test that you were facing off against Rayne in battle.

No matter how many partisans Rayne threw at you, you either dodged, redirected or countered. You would cast spatial warping spells, opening portals that swallowed up the partisans and sent them back at him, cast barrier spells that stopped the partisans, or cast a counter spell that absorbed and redirected the attack back at the opponent twice as strong. In the end, it was a draw. Neither of you were defeated by the other, but neither had too great of an advantage over the other. Although Rayne kept you on the defensive and prevented you from taking an offensive stance with his endless attacks, you prevented Rayne from dealing any damage to you and didn’t have a scratch on you. It was decided that you both would be named Divine Visionary since neither of you were able to defeat the other and you both became well acquainted.

After becoming a Divine visionary, you and Rayne were constantly working together on and off. Often finding the other during your missions or coming into contact with the other in some kind of way. You both became rather good friends and often discussed work related things together over tea or something. You got to meet Raynes rabbits and you ended up building what was basically a giant play structure for them that included slides, tunnels and other structures. You’d often bake healthy treats for the rabbits and feed them to them. You even helped Rayne make individual stockings filled with toys and treats for each rabbit during the holidays. The rabbits grew to love you and became comfortable enough to run and greet you every time they saw you. You and Rayne eventually became a couple and moved in together after graduation, making sure that the house had room for both of you and your furry children.

[adelarsims]

a pure creature 🦄

he speaks in a very quiet and soft voice, almost a whisper. just like he would stomp his hoof to cast magic in his true form, he can pretty much slam his fist on the wall or table to do the same.

things that curious students learned about unicorns, despite his class being not about unicorns but about artifact enchantments:

contrary to common belief, they really don't care about your virginity. isn't it a little silly to imagine that unicorn would want humans to go extinct to start considering them worthy? the purity unicorns are drawn to is of your thoughts, your intentions, your heart. they won't come over to liars, traitors, murderers, people who let the darkness and corruption into their souls. they would react negatively to infidelity (as it is the form of betrayal), but not to just people physically loving each other. and how do you think unicorns reproduce?..

yes, there were people who were riding upon unicorns, especially elven people because they naturally reject corruption, but that doesn't make unicorns their "mounts". letting someone ride upon their backs is simply for convenience in terms of speed and maneuverability, just like you would give a piggyback ride to a friend with sprained ankle. the polite way to say it would be "riding with the unicorn", not "riding the unicorn", it's extremely rude.

unicorn horn dust, a rare, expensive, and extremely potent ingredient for healing potions and medicine, comes from baby horns that unicorns shed the first few years of their lives, much like humans lose their baby teeth. they gather and keep their baby horns. to get one of those from unicorns, it must be traded or received as a gift, but not stolen or taken by deception and violence - it's an unforgivable crime. and there's no worse soul corrupting act than to kill a unicorn. the horn taken from a dead unicorn loses its healing power.

unicorns' names are related to the sky, stars, light, flora, weather, precious gems and metals, and their surnames (clan names) are also related to these plus local geography, for example if a clan lives by the river, its name might be water related. clan can decide to change their name, for example if it moves, or splits, or changes its lifestyle. name of a particularly fierce clan can include "storm" or "thunder" part. only unicorn equivalent of royalty can have clan names with "moon" in them (like Silvermoon, or Moonflower).

a unicorn truly loves only once in their lifetime, and to fall in love with someone with a short lifespan is a tragedy that will lead to a lifetime of heartbreak, sorrow, and loneliness. that's one of the reasons why they don't usually befriend humans and aren't keen on getting to know them on personal levels, but they have better relationships with elves.

a question that he couldn't answer for sure:

if a unicorn stabs someone with their horn, will that person die or be healed? who knows. are you willing to find out? no? hmm...

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium Drabble - Morning After

I figured that after the angst I did before I should add something fun instead :3

This is right after the Banshee incident :D

*------------------------*

Cross frowns as he feels Dust shiver again. The small patches of ice on him still seem to grow and no amount of rubbing his arms seem to be able to keep it at bay.

They need to get back to his apartment. Cross knows a few old rituals but it works best to cast those on something to drink. A ritual to bring inner warmth. It is meant to comfort someone and warm soemone in the winter.

Cross hopes it will work against Banshee magic. He never... he never heard the other priests speak about banshee magic and how to treat it... How it affects a person.

He knows what spirit magic does to other spirits. He knows that the priests take careful care to cast divine spells of protection before dealing with one.

They hadn't know.

Who expects a Banshee?!

Cross glances over his shoulder as he watches Nightmare talk with the cult members in the distance. Horror is floating near Nightmare no doubt to hear what is being said while Killer and Ash are both right here by Dust and himself.

Killer groans "what is taking him so long?! We need to go!"

Ash is beside himself as he floats from side to side. anxiously glancing around as he mutters about rituals and ingredients. All while muttering about how spirits will notice the Banshee leaving. The empty area that has appeared is open to be claimed.

Cross frowns as he removes his own jacket to place around Dust over his normal hoody. He still feels cold to the touch. He picks him back up afterwards and tries to share his own bodyheat with Dust.

Cross realises he needs to say soemthing to Killer or risk the other doing something impulsive... and after seeing what he he is capable of he doesn't want to see what the other would do. "Ngihtmare is thinking long term. It would be very suspicious for Dust to leave without payment. We don't want the cult to know or even think that Dust wants something other than payment." this whole thing had been a plan to find information on the artifact that Nightmare wants. To repay the other for him helping Dust with Cross at Cross's request after Cross messed up.

In... a way this is Cross's fault... XGaster really was right... Cross jsut causes more trouble than he is worth-

Nightmare walks over "Done. We have the payment for Dust and they are none the wiser."

Killer groans "Finally lets go!" and he floats into the van as Ash looks anxiously at him and than Dust. Cross gives the spirit a gentle smile as he picks Dsut up.

Fuck he weights nothing... Cross had seen how unhealthy his diet is but he hadn't thought it would be this bad?! At least Horror is trying to get some better habbits into Dust to take better care of himself.

They enter the van and see Killer just stare at the wheel.

Nightmare hums as he taps his chin "I don't supose you know how to drive?" he glances at Cross.

Cross blinks "Of course I do?"

Nightmare looks pleased "Then you can drive."

There is just one small- honestly large issue. He looks back at Dust before looking back at the maybe demon? Dust never quite told them what he felt like he summoned and Nightmare never told them what he was... Cross just knows the other senses emotions and seems to eat emotions. Which is demon behaviour but isn't limited to just that kind of creature.

ngihtamre raises an eyebrow and Cross realises he was quiet for too long again "I euh... need my hands to drive..." he frowns back at Dust and sees that more ice formed and he quickly rubs the arms to get more warmth into the other.

Nightmare jsut stares at him for a moment as he slowly arches his brow. One of his normally hidden tentacles moves over to take Dust and Cross immediantly pulls Dust further away "Not wiht tentacles! He needs warmth!"

He doens't like the idea of Ngihtamre just holding Dust like a sack of potatoes! He needs to be careful!

Nightmare sighs but holds out his arms. Looking very unamused. Cross shoots him a look but carefully hands Dust over.

Ash looks deeply unhappy wiht this and goes over to Ngihtmare to tell him to 'hold him different!' and to 'support his spine better!' and most of all 'Rub his arms to warm him more!'.

But Cross needs to get them back to Dust's... Cross refuses to call it an apartment. It is a shithole and Cross can't beleive Dust just lives like that! Once this whole mess is over maybe Cross can convince him to at least live at the temple with him? The priests there are nice! They will probably be okay wiht Dust living there! That way he can safe up money as well and try to really get his feet back under him!

If... he wants... Dust seems content to wander... Hell the only reason he is even there as often now is because they all are with him and he needs aplace to plan instead of just... going from job to job with his van.

Something to consider later... Maybe he just doesn't like to stay at home because it is shit place?

Cross feels bad for thinking it. Dust is being nice and considerate wiht letting them all stay and trying to help Cross fix Cross's mistake... and here Cross is just thinking negatively about his place.

Talking about place... They are here.

Cross gets out and leads the way for Nightmare. Cross is happy to note they don't come across anyone... Cross has been noticing people shooting them all looks. He really hopes that doesn't bring issues to Dust later.

For now they get inside as Killer just opens the door. Right... Poltergeist... interacts easily with physical things. He just... never does it because Dust doesn't like him moving his things around...

Cross doens't have time to think about just how strong Killer is... Or the fact that Ngihtmare just declined Cross taking Dust back from him and instead calmly walks inside himself.

This is a mess.

This is such a mess.

horror looks at him "We are back... What now?"

Cross swallows as he speaks "I think it is most important he rests and warms up. I have a ritual that we used to do at the temple all the time. To help warm a person from inside. It is... more like a heightened tea than anything." more pressing "But well... Dust needs to also warm up form the outside. Best for that would be for him to take a bath or shower." But Dust is still out cold.

Ngihtmare however just looks unimpressed "That is all? That is a very simple solution. I will wash him while you prepare this tea-"

Killer growls as his target soul flashes as he leans clsoe to Nightmare "The fuck do you think you are planning?! You DON'T get to tocuh my mate like that!"

Ash glares at both 'Neihter of you are allowed that!"

Cross is unsure what to do. What does he say? he can't do this?!

Horror speaks over the other voices "Ice is getting worse."

It pauses the arguing between Ngihtmare and Killer as both glance down at Dust, who is still held in nightmare's arms. He is shivering and the ice is creeping up his neck and covers his shoudler now.

Shit.

Shit shit shit!

Nightmare frowns.

Killer glares at him "you can't even feel him getting cold! What makes you think you can even take care of him?! Make sure he is okay and warm?!"

Ngihtmare glares at Killer "Don't speak foolish assumptions about me spirit. You may not like what you learn."

Ash straight up yells out a loud shout of pure frustration. Stuff wiggles lightly as the light flickers. Weak compared to what strong spirits can do. But for a weak phantom? It is impressive.

Ash glares at them "Stop this! Either help my brother or leave." things shake again even as Cross sees the other flicker. Ash is using the little power he has. he is desperate.

Killer looks unhappy before glaring at Ngihtmare unhappy "Fine..."

Nightmare huffs as he leaves towards the bathroom. his now visible tendril grabbing a sweater and sweatpants from the ground in Dust's room.

horror looks at cross and mumbles "can you teach me how to make this... magic drink? It is best that more people know how it is made." Cross can see that both ash and killer followed Ngihtmare. No doubt to keep an eye on the maybe demon adn Dsut. Cross nods and goes towards the kitchen. He looks around around the kitchen and is happy to find a few spices. No doubt Dust's small stash for rituals to begin with.

okay. Time to make special tea. any flavour will do, as the flavuor just makes it easier to drink for the one needing it. The real magic is into infusing the energy and feeling of the right spices into the very essence of the tea.

It is one of the easiest things to learn. but a comfort and useful trick. Cross gets to work and explains each step to Horror. It is nice... in a way. knowing he is doing soemthing that will help Dust. knowing someone else is learnign about this.

It is quick work and Cross waits. knowing the tea will stay warm until it is consumed.

It is also a great trick to make a drink for yourself that you know will stay the right temperature...

In the end Killer comes back to tell them that they got Dust cleaned and his body at least a bit warmer.

Cross takes the drink and meets the others in his room. it is cramped. but Dust looks a bit better even if he still looks very pale. The small matrass is covered with three blankets and Cross is very sure dust only has two in his house. He suspects Killer for stealing more.

He is wearing sweatpants and a sweater now. a beanie on his skull to keep it covered. Cross can hear the old washer running in the background. Cross joins them and nightmare keeps dust upright as cross helps him drink the tea. it is slow work but luckily it works. Dust mumbles unhappily.

Cross laughs "Right sorry... you don't like cinnamon as flavour..." strange that he remembers that... they had been kids... way back... Cross mentioned once he liked cinnamon buns but that his father didn't let him eat them...dust showed up with one one day for cross... cross had tried to share but dust just told him he didn't care for the taste.

It was just... the easiest spice to use wiht the most effect. at least that he had available. Probably why Dust kept it around... it is one of the cheapest spices which can be used in most easy rituals.

At least dust is still sort of there and awake. that is good.

he finishes the tea nad it takes but a moment but some colour returns to his bones as his shivering stops.

Cross makes sure he is completely tugged in and warped up in the blankets. He checks the window for no draft and makes sure the curtains are drawn.

They leave the room and just take a moment...

And now... they wait...

It is up to Dust to wake up now.

*-------------------------*

his body feels sore... it is... cold...

He doesn't like the cold...

It is fine... there is always someone nearby who... Who is warm...

nightmare isn't warm to the touch... something about what he is... but cross, or at least cross's body, is warm. no matter who is in it...

He feels the blanket and follows along the surface of his bed under it... his hand searching for the other... retreating back when he feels soemthing cold...

Where... where are they? He is alone? Why is he alone? Don't they want to stay near anymore?

Why... why does that thought hurt?

He forces himself to open his eyes. Wake up. Don't think like... that... That is stupid...

Dust glances around and frowns. Just his room... lots of blankets though and he shivers. He pulls one tighter around him. strange... It is still warm out and while his apartment is shit it doens't get cold like this until it is winter...

He looks down adn frowns. That is the old knitted sweater he has... it has been an impulse buy when he was younger... He had been feeling low and sad and just miserable... so splurged a lot of money on this knitted sweater... It was soft and warm and he regretted spending that much money on it...

He doens't usually wear it... scared that it will get dirty or get ripped or soemthing...

Dust pulls the blanket tigher around him as he slowly gets up..

Fuck it is cold. Why is he so cold? He enver felt this cold? Well it does remind of him that fucking banshee-

The Banshee....

The cold magic that had clung to his very being, his very core, the magic that held him together.

He had struggled up the stairs...

He met the others... they had been searching for him?

And Killer...

Killer had....

His soul beats faster just remembering it and he shakes his skull.

What... what is wrong with him?! He should be worried! he should be stressed about doing something against the other! To make sure Killer won't hurt them!!

But he cna only focus on how... fast and strong he had been. How quickly he had moved to defend him!! How it hadn't been a battle at all... more of an execution...

He pauses before the door and tries to sense the magic and energy in the air.

It is... difficult. it is like trying to move a sore muscle. Trying to focus through a migraine. He can still sense them but it is all muddy... Seems like he lost more of his energy than he had thought...

But he can sense them... they are all still there... but quiet? That is new.

He opens the door and looks around. They are all staring at him. Dust blinks back and sees the slowly darkening sky through the window. So it is only a few hours after their trip? They were before lunch at the cult trap and-

"Dust!!" Ash floats over and stares at him "Are you oaky?! How are you feeling? Sit down! Are you still cold?!" he looks anxious.

Dust blinks but takes a seat at the obvious disstress of his brother. Cross is next to him and it takes longer than usual for Dust to spot who is inhabiting the body. Seems like it is still Cross. Cross checks his temperature and asks some questions.

Dust is still confused but answers them. Yes he still feels cold but not as bad as when they were near the Banshee. He is still a bit tired but feels awake enough. His senses are still dulled as well.

Cross looks very worried "I think she ate a chunk of your life force and life energy... I... I am not sure... We would need to ask other priests."

Ash sounds panicked as he tries to plan but before he can even think off an answer Nightmare grabs his face and turns him to face him.

Ngihtmare studies his face and nudged parts os his skull and near his sockets. What... waht does Dust do? What is he doing?! Dust isn't sure what to do or what is going on? What is the other even doing-

Ngihtmares sockets glow a brihgt cyan for a moment as he continues to stare at him. He hums and slowly turns Dusts skull this and that way. Next the summoned being looks around the room before taking his hand. He checks the joints there.

Ngihtmare hums as he lets go and nods. the cyan colour disappears "You are weaker and some of your life force and energy has been taken correct. However your core and soul are not affected by this predicement. You will recover your lost energy with time and rest."

Dust blinks dumbfounded as Cross sputters "How do you know that?! Us priests can't even do that unless we have much training and practise!? How did you just... see that!? So quickly!? seeing someones core and energies isn't just something you can do?!" Cross stares in shcok.

Ngihtmare looks rather amused "It is part of what I am. It is hardly more complex than that."

Cross sputters "It is!! It doe smatter as it is divine magic! It is an ability reserved for those who are of the divine nature!"

Nightmare just continues to look at him amused "I am sure you will figure it out very soon."

Dust stares in shock. A fallen... A Fallen... Divine...

He... he is a ...

"You are an angel."

Nightmare's smile grows as he gives a half shrug "Even if they are unhappy with me. They can't change what I am. Exile however is possible." he sounds so amused.

Ash figured it out to "An angel... you are a fallen angel.. That is why you are only known as the Fallen..."

Nightmare nods "Indeed. Now." he gets up "Dust. yOu should rest more. Unless you are still feeling cold. In that case you should start with taking a shower. Cross, after you closed your mouth, prepare more of that tea for him. It should help him warm up." He looks to the side "Horror. you mentioned you had some leftovers for him to warm up and eat?"

Horror nods and mentions he saved all the leftovers.

Dust blinks "I... what?"

Ngihtmare looks back at him "You slept for 26 hours straight. From what I know of mortals that is well beyond the time they need to eat and drink. which you will do first. After that we make sure the Banshee's Breathe doesn't keep freezing you. then you go back to bed to rest and make sure you recover your energy." He nudges Dust back fully on the sofa as he walks towards the kitchen, listening to Horror to hear where the food is and starts warming things up.

cross is still shocked but rushes to make some sort of ritual tea? Dust can already smell the cinnamon and thinks he remembers drinking something warm with that taste? he still doens't enjoy it...

He glances to the side and sees Killer floating beside him. Looking right at him. Staring.

The confusing mess of feelings return... remembering how he moved and attacked.. he was strong...

Dust isn't sure what to do as he pulls the beanie closer around his skull.

Killer tilts his skull at him "You really fine?" he frowns as he pouts "Sorry i didn't get there earlier. Stupid nightmare said it was better to remain as a group or risk someone else getting lost who we would need to find." he pouts at him "I wanted to go straight after you through the floor! But nightmare stopped me!" he blinks "Oh right! nightmare's tendrils? Thsoe things we can see but others don't? Yeah. They can touch ghosts! but only when he wants to. Which is a rip off honestly! Like. It is unfair that he can deside to grab me to keep me from following you but I can't just poke him right near the center to annoy him? It is rude and unfair and-"

"Thank you..."

Killer blinks and stares a thim. Dust just feels more embarrassed but pushes through it... it is only fair... and... well... "You... did save us... thank you." there. He said it.

Killer fucking cheers and floats through him!! Dust shivers and glares "What the hell?"

Kilelr pouts "I wanted to hug you!! Cross! Crossy!! let me borrow the bdoy!" and he floats over to cross.

Cross yelps "Killer! I am doign a ritual stop distracting me!"

"Crossy don't be greedy! I wanne hug Dusty! Let me go hug my mate!"

Dust groans as he covers his face.

Why doe shis face feel warm? and why doesn't that statement bring annoyance anymore?

It is... probably because he is still disbalanced after the Banshee attack... Yeah... that is it... it is fine.. It will be fine.

[heroesrest64]

Character Sheets

(more to be added later)

Sky

The local carpenter, a sleepy young man who completes his jobs… eventually. You can often find him napping just about anywhere, even on his feet! A romantic at heart, you won’t regret getting to know this loveable young man.

Birthday: Spring 10

Family: None

Weapons: Broadswords, Whips, Claws

Style: Combo Connoisseur (Often starts combo chains while fighting)

Favorite Items: Wood, Pumpkin Soup (“Reminds me of home”), Feathers

Least Favorite Items: Poultry (“Why would you think I would like this?”), weeds, Spicy food

Four

The local blacksmith who always seems to be everywhere at once. He has a special penchant for weapons, and is happy to assist you in making whatever you need.

Birthday: Fall 21

Family: Smith (Grandpa)

Weapons: Broadswords, Magic Wands, War Hammers and Bow and Arrows

Style: Well-Rounded (Performs well no matter where you put him in the lineup)

Favorite Items: Metal Ores, Magic Stones, Four Leafed Clovers (“They’re good luck!), Coffee

Least Favorite Items: ocean forageables, trash, deserts (“Too sweet for my taste.”)

Time

this man runs the other farm in town alongside Twilight, mostly focused on cultivating crops and the like. He’s experienced (Read: Old) so if you need any tips or tricks, he’s the guy that you want to talk to.

Birthday: Summer 4

Family: None

Weapons: Longswords, Claws, War Hammers

Style: Heavy Hitter (He’s a bit slower but his attacks hit that much harder)

Favorite Items: Any Vegetable, Lon Lon Milk (“Better than any alcohol”), Elderflower

Least Favorite Items: Bitter recipes, soggy newspaper (“What am I supposed to do with this?”) moon dust (“…”)

Wind

An aspiring fisherman who makes deliveries from Lurelin Village and who can even ferry you down there. He’s a very nice young man, inquisitive, and always ready to lend a helping hand.

Birthday: Summer 19

Family: Aryll (Sister), ‘Granny’ (Grandma)

Weapons: Longswords, War Hammers, Clubs

Style: Sleight (Because of his smaller size, he can sneak attack enemies easier, and can even nick some of their items if he’s lucky)

Favorite Items: Elixir Soup (“You could never make it like my Grandma, but this is pretty close.”), Ocean Forageables, Fish

Least Favorite Items: Spicy foods, vegetables (“What’s a sailors least favorite vegetable? Leeks!”), egg shells (“Are you trying to curse me?”)

NON ROMANCEABLE

Legend

The curator of the local museum. He claims all of his attractions were stolen by a man in a bunny hood. A little standoffish at first, but knowledgeable beyond his years.

Birthday: Spring 25

Family: Fable (Sister)

Weapons: All Weapons

Style: Veteran (Capable of wielding all weapons with high dexterity)

Favorite Items: Hibiscus(“Reminds me of somebody… Thank you.”), artifacts, apples

Least Favorite Items: rabbits foot (“Where did you get this? It’s disgusting.”), Mermaid Scale, Goddess Statue Figurine (“I swear it’s like she’s looking at me…”)

Hyrule

The town's healer. He’s a little sassy at times, but is always very helpful and never gives up. Unfortunately, his cooking leaves a lot to be desired��

Birthday: Fall 8

Family: None

Weapons: Broadsword, boomerang, magic wands

Style: Magic and Mayhem (Has innate magical abilities that don’t need a conduit to activate.)

Favorite Items: deserts, herbs, Honey (“I’d say it’s for tea, but I might just eat it like this…”)

Least Favorite Items: Fairy Wings (“That’s sickening.”), bitter foods, Trash

Twilight

Runs the other farm in town alongside Time, focused on raising the animals there. He’s strong and fiercely loyal to his loved ones. He’s best friends with the town chef, so you can often find him hanging around the local tavern.

Birthday: Winter 7

Family: None

Weapons: Broadsword, Ball and Chain, Claws

Style: Wolf Hunter (Attacks animal-adjacent monsters with more ferocity)

Favorite Items: Pumpkin Soup, Goat-related products, Onyx (“I hear these can make openings to dark worlds. Probably just superstition, but it’s a fun thought.”)

Least Favorite Items: Bitter foods, Perfumes (“The smell is too strong.”), Wolfsbane

Warriors

The village's main protector, previously a knight of Hyrule who retired after the Great War. He’s known to be a bit of a womanizer, but he isn’t known to go out with people since coming to Hateno. What could be the source of these unfounded rumors?

Birthday: Winter 26

Family: Linkle (Sister[?])

Weapons: All Weapons

Style: Leader (Often at the front of the party, dealing decisive blows and commanding the rest of the party)

Favorite Items: Spicy foods, Armor Polish (“So shiny I can see myself!”), Any armor/ weapon (“I can add this to my collection.”)

Least Favorite Items: Trash, monster guts, Crystal Ball (“You had this? …You weren’t watching people through it, right?”)

Wild

An amnesiac man who somehow made his way to Hateno and decided to open a tavern. Despite his memory loss, he’s a natural in the kitchen, and even the stranger sounding recipes turn out excellent.

Birthday: unknown, presumed Fall 13

Family: None

Weapons: Broadswords, Bow and Arrows, Spears

Style: Wild (Often unpredictable in his attacks, either unleashing impossible combos or falling flat on his face)

Favorite Items: Edible forageables, Silent Princess (“It’s familiar, somehow”), Hearty Soup

Least Favorite Items: Wolf Pelt (“That's not funny.”) [Cant think of anything else rn]

Universal Loves: Goddess Plume, Master Sword, Hylian Shield

Exceptions

Legend- Goddess Plume (“More burdens to bear.”)

Universal Hates: Hyrule’s Cooking, Failed Dishes

Exceptions

Wild- Hyrule’s cooking/ Failed Dishes (“It’s okay to fail, as long as you don’t give up.”)

Legend- Hyrule’s Cooking (“Hyrule made this?… Do you think he’d be mad if I displayed it under ‘worlds most deadliest poison’?”)

[kkrahe]

Unexpected - Chapter 1

George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Series Summary: You never expected to cross paths with George Weasley - your complete opposite. But as rivalry ignites between you two, so does something far more dangerous, an undeniable attraction that neither of you can ignore.

Chapter Summary: When Fred and George Weasley step into your family’s dark and mysterious shop in Knockturn Alley, the last thing you expect is a clash of wits. But as the brash twins push your patience to its limits, tensions rise.

CW: None :D

AN: This is my first fic please be gentle, I'm very open to suggestion or corrections. Sorry if formatting is weird/off I'm not sure how to work tumblr TT. Lmk if this is bad so I can just quit while I'm ahead :D

Masterlist

...

The scent of old parchment and dust permeated the air throughout your family’s shop. It was familiar; you had worked there every summer since you turned 14. The shop was eclectic, with shelves littered with the ancient tomes, cursed artifacts, and hard-to-come-by ingredients that your family had collected over the years.

Located in the narrow dimly-lit Knockturn Alley, most of the shop's patrons were familiar faces. Pureblood wizards who favored darker magic and the occasional wanderer, looking for something more sinister or rare than the opposite Diagon Alley could provide.

You leaned against the dark hardwood countertop, flipping idly through a thick, leather-bound book. Savoring the last few weeks of pleasure reading before you returned to Hogwarts for your final year and would be too consumed in school to find time for hobbies.

You had spent most of your summer in the shop, not that you minded. The crowded maze of a building was like your second home, providing a much-needed haven from your families chaotic manor. Truthfully, you savored summers in the shop, unlike Hogwarts and your family home, here you were in charge. The shop ran by your schedule and your rules.

The chime of the doorbell cut through the quiet, typically you had a few visitors throughout the day. Many of them friends of your family or the occasional lost first-year. Your eyes flicked to the door, setting your book aside.

Two tall figures crossed the threshold, and your heart sank. Fred and George Weasley.

You recognized them immediately - their flaming red hair, boisterous laughter, and of course their tendency to cause chaos wherever they went. Hogwart’s notorious pranksters stood out like a pair of sore thumbs in your shop.

You feel yourself tense behind the counter, watching as they glanced around with curious stares. They didn’t belong here, you knew that much, and from the inquisitive yet hesitant expressions they wore, they did too. But Knockturn Alley had a way of attracting all kinds of customers - especially when they were searching for something they couldn’t find elsewhere. You had a feeling they were up to no good.

“Blimey, this place is cheerful huh Georgie?” Fred called out loudly, his brash voice echoing through the narrow aisles of shelves and cabinets. So clearly out of place in a shop such as your own. Looking at his brother as he brushed a hand over a shelf of dusty potion vials.

You stayed silent, spine rigid as you sent them an unimpressed glare. The twins however didn’t seem to notice, not even glancing your way as they gawked at the assortment of forbidden magical goods on display.

George, was already across the room, picking up an ancient cursed dagger from a shelf clearly labeled “do not touch” in a bold angry scrawl. His slender fingers brushed dangerously close to its blade.

Your eyes narrow, voice sharp as you call out, “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Unless you fancy losing a hand, Weasley.”

George snatched his hand back, startled by your voice as he hadn’t noticed the presence of the shopkeeper. A flicker of acknowledgment and bashfulness in his eye as he set the dagger back into its stand.

His smile was boyish, charming even, but you didn’t waver. You weren’t amused, and you weren’t going to let them get away with their usual reckless antics here. Your family’s shop was dangerous - its contents were not for the careless or the foolish.

Fred, on the other hand, seemed intent on pushing the boundaries. Reaching for an ornate vase perched precariously on a pedestal near the counter, tipping it dangerously close to the edge.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you watched the vase teeter on the edge of the table. Snatching your wand from under the desk and catching the vase just before it hit the floor. The shining black ceramic just above the hardwood, frozen in place as you scowled at the twins.

“That’s worth more than your life,” you snapped, moving the vase to a different shelf out of reach from the twins. “Try not to break anything, Weasley. Unless you want to be in debt for the next three generations."

Fred held up his palms in mock surrender, grinning. “Easy there. No need to be so touchy.”

You ignored him, your patience wearing thin. The Weasleys were loud, obnoxious, and far too reckless to be in here. The sooner they left, the better. You had no interest in entertaining any sort of banter with the twins, surprised you could even find it within yourself to not kick them out of your shop that very second.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of them rummaging through your family’s carefully curated inventory, George placed a small vial of Ashwinder eggs on the counter. Not particularly nefarious or ancient, but certainly hard to come by, and quite expensive due to its rarity.

“That’ll be 50 Galleons,” you said flatly, not in the mood for negotiation.

Fred leaned against the counter, flashing a grin. “Fifty Galleons? How about we call it twenty-five? We are just some poor schoolboys trying to make an honest living after all.”

You don’t budge. “This isn’t a joke shop, and I don’t haggle. If you want cheap, I suggest looking elsewhere.” You looked the twins up and down, a scowl forming on your face. Your words cold and cutting. The look exchanged between the twins told you they weren’t used to being dismissed so easily.

You could see the flicker of irritation in George’s eyes as he stepped forward, “Right. Must be nice, being able to charge whatever you want. Us Weasleys wouldn’t know anything about that though, would we?” His tone, though light, carried a hint of bitterness that made your jaw tighten. You didn’t care for his attempts to belittle your family’s business, nor his declaration of what he thought your goods were worth.

The air between you thickened, but you held your ground, refusing to let their words affect you. “Fifty Galleons,” you repeated coolly.

Begrudgingly the twins paid, sliding a pile of gold coins across the counter in a messy heap. Their smiles gone, replaced with clear annoyance and tension that simmered beneath the surface.

As they left the shop, the bell chimed in their wake, Fred turning to shoot you one last look, “We’ll be seeing you around. Don’t miss us too much."

You watched them go, glaring down your nose as the shop door slammed shut, the quiet you longed for returning like a heavy cloak. You should have been relieved by their absence. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time Fred and George Weasley darkened your doorstep. And despite yourself, the thought unsettled you more than you cared to admit.

[mawofthemagnetar]

The door to Doc’s lab squeaked open, and Etho shuffled in lazily. The man himself was standing at a lab bench, fiddling with something- on the bench beside him, a machine the size of a filing cabinet was whirring away noisily. Etho paid it no mind.

“Got the last of ‘em for ya.” He said, holding up a jar of blue slime and giving it a shake, “The last artifake.”

“Perfect,” Doc rumbled, peering in at something through a microscope.

“So, uh, do we have an answer? About the Iskallium eye?”

“Hmm? Yeah, we do. That’s definitely Iskall’s eye. Same materials, same composition, same power supply- matches all the diagrams he gave me when asked. Only difference is, all the artifakes are beat to hell. I don’t know what could possibly have caused these dents, man. Does Tango-?”

“Tango is saying the same thing Tango said yesterday, which is, quote, “they came with the dungeon!” Etho rolled his eyes, leaning up against a workbench that was cluttered with his hard-won artifakes, “So, ah, any luck? I’m risking my life in there for this, you know that, right?”

“You’ll respawn,” Doc muttered, holding a hand out and waggling his fingers. Etho dropped the jar of speedy slime into Doc’s metal palm with a clank, and Doc moved whatever he was examining off the microscope and set about preparing another slide.

“So,” Doc said, “There is a commonality, across all items.”

“Oh?” Etho echoed, hopping up on a bench and shoving a well-loved pickaxe out of the way, “And what’s that?”

“A dusty...residue...thing. Tastes and smells like spent gunpowder, like a rocket that’s just been fired,” Doc said, dropping a slipcover on top of the slide, “It’s fine, particulate residue.” Doc shrugged, and slid the sample of slime onto his microscope, peering in for a closer look.

“And it’s...EVERY artifake, you said?”

“And every artifact, I’ll bet. Keralis’ slippers were a goldmine- just choked with the stuff. Seriously. I put them into a bag and shook them and a ton of that dust came out.” Doc twiddled the focus knobs, and sighed.

“There's more of it. Man, and it's even, like, mixed into the slime! I’m gonna have to ask Jevin for a sample when he’s around next so I can compare.” Doc nodded, and Etho smiled behind his mask.

“Soooo... that’s it, then? The mystery of where the heck Tango got all these artifacts from is...magic dust, I guess?”

The machine dinged, like an egg timer, and printed something out on a long strip of paper. Doc extracted it, and started to read over his results.

And as his eyes scanned down the page, he went very, very still.

“Doc? What’s happening?”

“Etho. Composition of this dust...it’s rock.” Doc said slowly.

“...Rock dust? And?”

“Roughed edges. This rock has never seen water.”

“...Which means...?”

“This rock hasn’t been oxidized. Predominantly...reduced. No clay, no mica...which means...”

“Doc!” Etho sighed, “What are you trying to say, here?”

“Every single one of these artifakes is covered in moon dust.” Doc said flatly.

Etho swallowed.

“Wherever the dungeon is getting these artifacts-” Doc started, hands trembling.

“-Is someplace we didn’t get lucky last season.” Etho finished, "Ah. O...kay."

Both men stared at the jar of slime in silence.

“...Cool. Well, anyway, have fun with your crisis. I’ve got three more frozen shards left!” Etho said cheerfully, and he skipped out the door.

[spicybunni]

Yandere Dark Wizard x Maid!Darling

Little Dark Wizard blurb ! I’ve had this idea for like all of October and had to get it out of my system, enjoy! 🌙

WARNINGS!! ⚠️ : NSFW IMPLICATIONS, YANDERE TENDENCIES, OBSESSIVE, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You swept the floors clean by 8AM this morning, and now it was time to start on dusting this horrid tower again. Even though you dusted a week ago there are somehow a buildup of cobwebs and thick layers of dust on almost everything! It’s almost as if he uses his magic to make the tower more dirty, keeping you busy with work while he is away. He is Faris, the dark Wizard. About a year and a half ago you came to him, as a castle maid looking to give assistance to either a Witch or Wizard in exchange for lessons in magic wielding. He told you off the bat that it would take time and patience since you didn’t have the gift of magic to begin with.

When you first met him, you certainly did not expect him to be so…handsome, to say the least. With the rumors you’ve heard around the kingdom and castle, you thought he would look scarier. But he did have an intense look on his face giving you his full attention. Long black curls piling in the hood of his cloak, his robes gray and colorless, and his eyes were sage green. No wonder the other maids gossiped about him constantly when he visited. But for your sake you pushed your attraction for him to the side, just trying to make a business deal to better your life.

Through the months it was harder and harder to push your feelings down. He was stern but never had an outburst or became violent like the royals you used to serve. The only thing damned about your position is that he never lets you leave the tower without him. Needing to buy food? He’ll escort you through a portal to the nearest Market place. Need new clothes? No need for travel when he special order them for you.

He’s so stingy whenever you ask him about the “business” he takes care of during the day. 4 days out of the week, he leaves the tower from morning until late evening doing heaven knows what. You had gathered a technique in finishing your chores early. Which he absolutely despised. It’s not that he hated you having free time. He just doesn’t want you roaming into certain quarters of the tower. He kept such dangerous artifacts in certain rooms that if you explored, you just might hurt yourself. Which was the last thing he wanted. But usually when you did finish early you kept busy with either cooking dinner or doing some crafty hobbies you liked in your chambers. If he didn’t spot you in the kitchen he would either teleport to your room to knock or just peak to see you if you're there from afar.

Over the past year, unbeknownst to you, Faris has actually depended on you being here at the tower. At first he labeled it as just being reliant on a maid or a housekeeper to keep the place in order. But something sparked within him when you had the courage to speak to him outside the Royal Palace. You were a mistreated maid there and wanted a better life, a magical one. Who was he to refuse a future apprentice? Unfortunately for him now, he see’s you as more than a beloved maid. You were his.

Teaching magic to non magical humans did take time, but it was easy. You start with the basics of elemental magic, then energy magic, and if you asked him, he would teach you dark magic to defend yourself.

But teaching you to become your own Witch meant you would leave eventually…And these feelings of loneliness have swelled over the years before you came into his life. Perhaps he can push it a few months, making more excuses that you weren’t ready, or that his work requires his full concentration. He found that getting in close proximity to you and simply saying “Not now, Y/N.” when you asked questions made you stop for a few days. He found it so endearing that you would blush madly for him and be so shy to be close to him when he did stuff like that.

But you on the other hand we’re ready to take your lessons into your own hands now. You’ve done your part of the bargain. You just won’t ask anymore. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission right? Putting your broom and other cleaning equipment in the kitchen, you head over to the library with many anxious thoughts in your head. ‘Maybe he’ll be impressed when you show him- No, no don’t show him! He’ll find me out sooner if I do that- Ughh’

Finally coming up on the massive door, you bring out the spare key you borrowed from Faris. You only took it because he kept it in the same office drawer of a desk you clean every week. You knew it was for the library because it shared the same symbol of a skull that the library doors adorned on the wood. Obviously he didn't think you were such a curious darling. Plus it’s still midday, you’ll have plenty of time to browse and put things back where they belong.

With a click, the door unlocks. You push the doors open, revealing a massive collection of books with towering shelves holding them. Right when the doors opened a spark flew from the torches at the entrance to light all candles in the library. You gasp in amazement, quickly putting the key into your apron’s pocket. You step in further, glancing at the book spines, reading their titles. Some were just regular story books while others were encyclopedias, dictionaries, How-To’s and much more. There was a particular book that caught your attention. It was a faded purple color that shined in certain lighting. You pull it out reading the title ‘LOVE SPELLS AND POTIONS’. The book obviously stayed untouched for years, the spine wasn’t worn and the pages were crisp. You can tell by the color and feel of the paper that it’s an old book though. You had no need for any spells or potions within this book, but taking a peak is almost harm right?

You opened and flipped to a random page. The potion was for fertility and love making. But before you could even read the details a black swirl of mist appeared in the middle of the library, making the shelves rumble. It opened up like a portal, making you tremble holding the book to your chest like a shield. You panic thinking it’s an entity of some sort coming into the tower but then you see Faris walking through, looking around until he spots you. His face looks both displeased and amused at the same time. He takes languid steps towards you. You gulp, not having expected any of this, to be caught so red handed by your Wizard most of all.

“I did not expect this, my darling maid. You actually had the gall to trespass into my library and get ahead of yourself.” He chuckles, removing his coat as he comes to you.

“And I see the thing you’ve decided to learn from first is?..” He raises his hand with his palm down, turning it up and flicks his wrist back, making an unseeable force take the book hiding within your arms. “W-Wait! Faris I-“ he pays no attention to your cries of embarrassment. As the book floats into his grasp he holds his other hand out in a stop motion, making the invisible force block ho. He marks the page you were at with a finger before looking at the front cover.

You can see his eyes read the title, creasing slightly by his grin as he looks back to you. “Really Y/N? Love Potions?” His magic releases its hold on you. You’re fidgeting with your hands with a face as red as rubies. You were about to speak your truth before you see he’s about to see the page you were on. Your mortified expression fuels him to carry on with his torment. You didn’t really think you were going to be unpunished for sneaking into a forbidden room of his tower?

He looks over the potion ingredients with the…expressive.. illustrations on the page. He chuckles at you begging to stop and trying to grab the book. “Oh dear, a fertility potion huh?” He looks back at you now, making you freeze in your actions.

“Listen Faris, I just thought the book looked pretty! Stop drawing it out like this! You know I didn’t-”

You were pulled to him by his magic, your front against his. A hand rests itself on your lower back. You look up at him, hands on his robes. You’ve never embraced him like this before. It was making you flush so warm against his body.

“If you’d like, my dear Y/N, your first magic lesson can be from this book…”

~~~~

Part 2??

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Drarry Oneshots Masterlist

A Hint of Spice (ao3) - giraffeminion G, 6k

Summary: After the war, Draco breaks ties with the wizarding world to lead a quiet and uneventful life as a financial advisor on the outskirts of Muggle London. His peaceable existence is broken, however, when a damnable food truck sets up shop right outside his front door.

A Lesson in Love and Ice Cream (ao3) - fanfairmod E, 17k

Summary: The only thing keeping Draco together is his structured routine, which begins and ends with ice cream. Then Potter shows up, godson in tow, and his fragile balance is put to the test.

Coffee (ao3) - Writcraft draco/harry E, 5k

Summary: Sometimes it’s just a story about two wizards and a Muggle coffee shop.

Feels Like Love (ao3) - GoldenTruth813 G, 6k

Summary: Draco returns to Hogwarts, determined not to want anything. But Potter changes that. Potter changes everything.

Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (ao3) - AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix) G, 8k

Summary: Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry's groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that's okay: Harry's got a plan.

Kiss - xErised T, 10k

Summary: For the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, it’s not Ron that Harry rescues from the Great Lake, but Draco Malfoy. Hogwarts-era.

Little Talks - Femme (femmequixotic), noeon (noe) E, 11k

Summary: Draco’s been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he’s sure it’s just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Matters of the heart (ao3) - nerakrose G, 5k

Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Moonlit Revelations (ao3) - JulietsEmoPhase T, 4k

Summary: When Harry returns for his Eighth Year at Hogwarts, he quickly suspects Draco Malfoy is up to something again.

Post Hogwarts, non-epilogue compliant. No smut.

Passion Cake (ao3) - ICMezzo T, 19k

Summary: It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)

Pumpkin Boy (ao3) - OTPshipper98 T, 6k

Summary: It's Halloween night, and the line that separates Harry's world from the one he truly belongs in dissipates when he meets a peculiar, white-blond boy.

Reparations (ao3) - Lomonaaeren T, 16k

Summary: A Harry who works in Gringotts to pay for his break-in. A Draco who works as an Auror and gets no respect from his peers. A mysterious ancient artifact. Flirting. What more do you need to know?

Savage (ao3) - marguerite_26 E, 18k

Summary: In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Slammed (ao3) - Faith Wood (faithwood) G, 2k

Summary: Potter develops a worrying habit of randomly wall-slamming Draco all over the castle.

The Courting of Draco Malfoy (ao3) - aroceu T, 9k

Summary: In which Harry flirts, and Draco is confused.

The Difference Between Dust And Soup (Is You) (ao3) - gnarf T, 17k

Summary: When Harry returned for his eighth year at Hogwarts he had high hopes that he'd have a normal and quiet year for once—he had earned it after all!

But when he found Malfoy starving and unconscious in the Astronomy Tower one night, it all started over again. He had to figure out what happened to him.

After Harry started to cook for Malfoy, and while sharing their secret dinner night after night, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a possibility of them becoming more.

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight (ao3) - Omi_Ohmy M, 35k

Summary: When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

This Heart Shut Wide (ao3) - xanthippe74 T, 4k

Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve and Draco refuses to talk to anyone at this wretched party in the Eighth-Year common room. He’s going to ignore Harry Potter and not think about snogging him in the staircase earlier. And he’s definitely not going to let himself fuck up both their lives by continuing the reckless game they’re playing.

As usual, nothing goes according to Draco’s plan.

The One Where Everybody Finds Out (ao3) - slytherco T, 8k

Summary: Remember those few legendary F.R.I.E.N.D.S. episodes where Chandler and Monica thought they were SUPER sneaky with their relationship but all their friends found out one after another? Well, here's just that - in Drarry flavour.

Trenches (ao3) - sara_holmes M, 3k

Summary: They're auror partners, smoking buddies, wine mates, co-inhabitants of a snow filled trench somewhere in western Scotland, and they've had it with being cold.

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Another One For @jarpadversebingo

Square filled: Sex Pollen

And My First For @alphabetquest

Prompt: No Strings Attached

Warnings: Language, Smut, Sex Pollen, Shower Masturbation, Fantasying about P.I.V, Fantasying about Fem. Oral Receiving.

Summary: Trying to recover an artifact for Cas you run into a nifty little thing called sex pollen.

Special Thank To @copperboom82 My Forever Beta Bestie 🫶

My Master List My Tag List

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of your bronco.

“Yes.” you reassured him. “I’m sure if the magic pink dust was going to have any effect on me it would have happened by now.”

“You don’t know that.”

You looked over at him. “Sammy. I am fine.”

“Did you get it?” Cas asked as soon as your feet were in the bunker.

“Yes, here” You handed him the the wrapped artifact you heisted from the witch’s den.

“Thank you.”

“We may have a problem though,” Sam said walking up behind you.

Cas looked at him, then to you.

“It’s nothing.”

“Little Ms. Independent couldn’t wait for someone taller than her to reach the damn thing.” Sam explained. “She knocked a wooden box down, and some kind of pink dust came out of it.”

“What was it?” Dean asked as he approached.

“Not sure,” Sam huffed.

“I’m fine. I feel fine,” you said slapping away Cas’s hand

“And you’re sure?” He asked giving up trying to see for himself.

“Oh my god, yes.” you groaned as you walked away.

The scent of vanilla sandalwood filled your nostrils as Sam sat next to you in the library, making you shift in your seat.

“You alright there, y/n?” Dean asked watching you squirm.

“Fine.”

You leaned back in your chair bringing the lore book to your lap. A flash of heat rushed through you as Sam leaned in. “Whatcha reading?”

“A book…”

He let out a light chuckle. “Huh, you don't say.”

You lifted your eyes, skimming over his hard jaw line, the stubble on his cheeks, those cute dimples that dipped when he smiled.

Your eyes stopped when they reached his lips. hey looked so soft, so full. You wondered what it would be like to kiss them. It was as you started to lean in that you slammed the book shut and shot up out of your seat.

“Uh, I gotta go. Do a... a thing.” You pursed your lips together and walked out.

You inhaled deeply, your muscles easing as the hot water cascaded over them. You let out a sigh when you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey, y/n!”

“Sam, if I have to tell you I’m fine one more time I swear I’m going to punch you,” you shouted.

You heard him laugh, “Dean made burgers. Yours is getting cold.”

Another flash of heat washed over you, pooling at your center as you thought about inviting him in. How sexy his hair would look dipping wet. Your core thrummed as you mind wandered. His muscular arms would be holding you up against the wall. Thrumming turned to throbbing as you thought about his hard cock pounding into you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Your fingers traced down your stomach in the same pattern of Sam’s imaginary lips, his hair tickling the sensitive skin as he kept inching down. Letting out a light moan, your finger tips circle your clit, as Sam’s tongue starts to do the same.

Your fingers quicken their pace at the same time as him, making you moan louder. His hazel eyes flashing up at you through wavy brown strands as he watches you squirm with pleasure. You bring your free hand down, sliding a finger in your entrance. You feel the tension in your stomach start to build as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Fuck Sam,” you moan out as you work yourself closer to your climax, focusing on the imagines in your head.

“Come for me y/n” He lets out in a whisper, your walls pulsate around your fingers as the bliss crashes over you, your panting muffled by the shower and you ride out your high.

“Cas, can I talk to you for a minute?”

3 pairs of eyes flash to you as once.

“I’m ok, I just need his help with something,” you told the Winchesters

“Like?” Dean said with raised eyebrows.

“Like his opinion on what lingerie I should wear tonight on my date.”

Sam cleared his throat as Dean’s face held a dumbfounded look. “Yea, Cas you’re the man for the job.”

“I don’t really think I’m the best person for this.” Castiel objected as you walked into the hall.

You rolled you eyes. “No, that was to get away from them. Something is wrong with me.”

“Are you hurt?” He asked lifting his hand in you direction.

“No.” you said slapping it away once more.

“Well then what’s wrong?”

“Well,” you scanned the hallway and lowered you voice. “I um, I kinda thought about Sam today.”

“Well, he is your best friend. I imagine he’s well being crosses your mind many times a day.”

You sighed. “No, Cas I thought about Sam and ya know...” You sigh again when he still doesn’t get it “rubbed one out”

“I don’t understand. What were you rubbing?”

You eyes flicked down, as your hand gestured to your nether regions

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up “Oh, Oh.” he nodded his head. “And you’ve never thought about?”

“Nope.”

“And you don’t have feelings for-”

“Nope.”

“And you think it has to do with the-”

“Yep.”

“I’ll be right back.” And with a small breeze he was gone.

You screamed out in pain as you woke, drenched in a pool of your own sweat, agony rippling through your veins.

“What the hell?” Sam busted though your bed room door.

Dean, gun already drawn, scanned the room. “What’s wrong with her Sam?”

You felt the bed dip as Sam sat down. “I don’t know, she’s burning up.” He looked to Dean then back to you. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” You winced as the touch of his hand on your cheek made the throbbing worse. “Where’s Cas?”

“Cas!” Dean’s gruff voice echoed through to the hall.

“I’m here.” Cas said rushing to your side. “y/n I figured out what it was.”

“And?” You asked, your walls thrumming to the point of pain made you whine.

“Well for lack of a better term, it was sex pollen.”

“What the fuck is that?” Sam asked as he stood up

Castiel looked up to Sam “It’s a witches pollen. If she doesn’t have intercourse,” he looked back down to you. “I would guess soon, her fever will continue to raise.”

“And then what?” Dean asked.

“Well, a fever greater than 105.8°F cause cause organ damage. Then if it reaches above 108°F it can cause convulsions and maybe death.”

“So, you telling me if she doesn’t get laid, she will die.”

“Yes.”

“And there’s nothing you can do?” Sam asked.

“I’ve been looking into it, but-”

“You’ve been looking into it?” Dean cut him off. “You knew?”

Castiel sighed. “Yes, earlier she told me something was wrong when she-”

“Shut up Cas!” You shouted.

“When she what?” Sam asked.

Castiel looked at you, staying silent.

“When she what, Castiel?” Sam’s voice rose.

“When I got off to you in the shower,” you shouted, the flashback of your imagination making the throbbing pain in your core worse.

Sam’s jaw dropped a bit, “I. Um I didn’t know you had.”

You sighed. “I don’t that’s how I knew something was wrong.”

“Mm I’m just gonna go... Call Rowena.” Dean said stepping backwards.

“I already tried.”

“Well maybe she found something new.” Dean rushed out the door.

“I managed to track down Drexyl, I was about to go see him before you called.”

“Go. If she gets any worse, we will call.”

“Or…” you said once Castiel had vanished.

“Look, you're awesome and a really great hunter, but.”

“Sam, I’m not asking you to fall in love and get married, I’m just asking you to fuck me so I don’t die.”

“Just sex?”

You nodded.

“No strings?” he asked

“No strings,” you echoed his words

Tag List:

@mochminnie @misatxox @idk6505 @kamisobsessed @barnes70stark @nightxcreature @quietgirll7 5@nancymcl@hobby27 @hunter-or-the-hunted @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @deansimpalababy @roseblue373 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @PhoenixQueen @spnaquakingdom

[skyenish]

Twst mlp AU | thoughts behind the designs

I made Leona an earth pony with a thicker build. Hes a square with sharp angles! Hes one of the first drawings I made for this ‘series’ so its a bit lackluster, but I wanted him to be nice and hairy. I gave him a more lion-like tail, and some jewelry from his culture. His ears are nicked and he has long, slightly tangled hair. He also has a lot of hair around his neck becuase he’s a lion! I gave him a color scheme vaguely resembling a lion as well. Also nice and hairy legs, i love to draw those on horses. His cutie mark is three claw marks over clouds of dust. There are multiple different meanings to this cutie mark.

Vil covers up his cutie mark for personal reasons, but its a spotlight shining behidn some curtains. I tried to give him a more ‘feminine’ look while also keeping sharper angles. I love his color scheme, and i made him a unicorn because I thought it fit perfectly. I considered making him an earth pony to really show how he works hard for everything and doesn’t take shortcuts, but in the end unicorn won. I might change it later though! I had to give him some elegant white spots too, because aesthetically it just clicked in my head. He has a purple bow and has his unique hair accessory in his bun. I gave him longer eyelashes, and instead of making his hair a blonde-purple gradient I made some locks purple.

Jamil!!! He’s one of my favorite designs. I know the obvious choice seems to make him a unicorn, but HEAR ME OUT ON PEGASUS JAMIL! It adds a lot of symbolism and extra layers I think, it’s very tragic. Plus, he looks pretty with wings. I gave him darker and greyer colors to portray his darker and jaded nature, and it’s a nice contrast to Kalim’s design. I tried to vaguely design him off of Arabian horses but it didn’t come through very well. Did you know that MLP has a race of horses called ‘Saddle Arabians’? I didnt and i think its absolutely hilarious. Jamil is also supposed to have bags attached to the thing around his waist, but I’m too lazy to draw them.. His cutie mark is an eye with the world as its pupil, and a snake curling behind it. I put a lot of thought into his cutie mark and I’m really happy with what I came up with! To me it has 4 different meanings! I kinda want to redraw Jamil because he looks so small compared to the others!

Kalim is a unicorn for even more delicious angst. His whole family is unicorns. He’d much rather be a pegasus, but at least he has the magic carpet! Jamil thinks it’s bullshit that Kalim can use magic AND can fly. I made Kalim’s colors more vibrant and yellow and lively. He wears lots of jewlery, has tattoos and is my favorite design of these four! He also took me the longest. His cutiemark is a sun or a coin with gems on it, and it has wings. This too has multiple meanings. I think in the Scalding Sands culture the snake jewelry was something the sorcerer of the sands, an alicorn, wore around his horn. Maybe the original was a magical artifact? Well, Kalim, and other people from the scalding sands, wear fakes to honor the sorcerer. Anyways, I made Kalim slightly hairier then Jamil to show how he’s softer and wilder.

———

I’d love to do more with this AU, because my mind is already full with so many cool ideas! Thanks for reading my rambles and have a nice day :)

[cowgirlcherrie]

❍ ACERBUS ! ━━ ellie williams.

⤹ pairing: vampire! ellie x slayer! reader

synopsis: the undead is restless, and an immortal blood sucker arrises for her last dance on earth. Beholding a slayer who has greater plans to lower the blood hungry vampire back into the ground

content: 18+ MDNI! blood mention. death/ talks of death. violence. betrayal. gaslighting. manipulation. hunting/killing. v similar to buffy the vampire slayer. kissing. talks of sex but not directly smut, smut adjacent honestly. vampire! slayer! abby but strictly platonic to the reader. L-Bombs. betrayal. weapons (no guns just daggers n stakes). Ellie is super damon salvatore + katherine coded in this. food play(with cherries). biting. sub-ish loser! ellie. Toxic/dark! ellie

Adficio. To weaken, discourage. To damage or to break.

Adficio was your finger. Coated in the saltiest vibrant red, gooey, and thick. Liquids dripped down the sides of the cushioned flesh and flowed never-ending through you. It tasted metallic, iron pulsating through the liquid; and salty, overly salted. Your tongue ran over the edge of your finger at your paper cut. It stung miserably but you had to get back to work.

As if it wasn’t already late, the sun setting with a musky burnt orange across the sky peeking through the rounded church glass windows of the artifact museum you were ecstatic to go home. Excited to take the warmest shower until the water was scorching hot against your skin and sleep comfortably in your queen-sized plush bed.

You weren’t expecting any more customers this evening, especially with recent town curfews due to mysterious deaths you were preparing to leave right after the key twisted in the lock. With 20 minutes left until closing, you finished dusting off the case of the bookshelf, putting the cream coffee-tinted paper (with your blood still tinting a corner) away into the hefty black book with gold embedded in the spine. 

It was an interesting piece of literature, somewhere amongst the lines of old-town supernatural lore and purely fiction but you loved it. It made you hungry, yearning for just a bite wanting more, wanting to sink your teeth into your own flesh. It was important and delicate thin papered copies; and faulty legal documents about a vampire who was rumored to live forever. Pictures; missing from the pages with the name scribbled out in white out. No gun, no knife, no magical life-threatening injury could kill her and she was forever cursed with the pain and treachery to live forever. Although you knew it wasn’t real you still felt yourself being a conspiracist and empathetic. Almost remorseful for the forever young vampire who didn’t ask for a life of immortality. Everything was a little unfair, even for the mundane. 

A bell chimed, signally that someone had walked into the museum. Thick-soled boots against the dark wood, creaking beneath them with every step. Shunned light on a lanky and average-height girl, drenched in black from head to toe. You naturally ignored her presence, that was what the bell was for; for questions and giving you the excuse to actually be bothered. So you continued your lonesome activities as proceeded. Picking up your thick wool scarf, wrapping it around your neck in loops; turning off the monitors, and locking the registers. 

DING! 

Ellie hit the bell with a toothy smirk on her face. Eyeing your figure almost as if you were a bakery-crafted treat as Ellie ran her tongue against the tip of her pointy canines. 

“Hi” 

Just Hi? You scrunched up your face in confusion at the girl’s rather awkward and sudden intro, her voice was raspy yet soft n direct but she kept her communication clear. If you were being honest she looked dead. Skin pale and drained of any colors besides her cheeks and the root red on her lips, sunken circles around her green ember eyes. She didn’t even look real.

“We are about to close so any prolonged question can wait until tomorrow.” you confessed, keeping it short and sweet, as the girl in front of you only frowned. 

You turned your back for a second, reaching into the mini locker behind the desk to grab your coat and your keys, pulling the fabric closer to your chest, when amidst the silence —

DING! 

Ellie hit the bell again, making you groan as you turned slowly to look at the auburn-haired girl showcasing a sarcastic smile before reverting her face to a serious expression. 

“I am Ellie, and you…you look like you can help me” Ellie whispered sweetly; playfulness rang in her voice as she looked down at the black book that are on the counter. Drool almost dripped out as she looked at the book with her lips parted. 

“Did you miss the part where I said we were—”

“Closing soon, yeah yeah I got it. Don’t care, Listen I just need this book and I promise, I’ll be out of your hair” Ellie pleaded bringing her hands up in a prayer position as she gave you a pout. Slowly gliding her ring-coated fingers against the book, making you rush to pull on it from the other end.

“Sorry not for sale! This isn’t a library” 

“But it’s…fiction, right? You can make another one” Ellie pulled it into her more, her hands slightly overpowering the grip you had on the book.

“Rules are rules, nothing leaves this museum if it’s not rented” 

“So what I am hearing is I can have it?”

“For $100”

Ellie gasped.

“For free? thanks!~” Ellie gave one final tug loosening the book from your very hands and pulling it into her chest. 

“I’ll be back! [HEY!] Don’t worry! Don’t stress probably not with the book! [That’s stealing!] Not if it’s rented! Thank you for your help!” Ellie shouted as she bolted out the door, sticky fingers webbed around the book as she ran out.

Making you let out an exacerbated sigh at the odds. You were so going to get fired. 

Adiuvo  To help or to aid, to assist

If someone told you that the museum book thief would be your girlfriend you would have told them they were lying. It’s been 3 months since the two of you met; 2 that you have officially started dating, although it didn’t feel like it. 

Ellie was more secretive than you thought. A mansion to herself where she lived alone which was oddly dark and gothic, you were for certain she would have caused a black paint shortage. Her house was emblematic of a period piece from the 19th century almost a screenshot of a fragment of time. The only odd thing was the mirrors being covered in every corner. A black satin cloth draped over the gold ribbed mirrors almost stapled there with a DO NOT TOUCH! 

Ellie hated pictures, she hated phones and settled on a rather outdated Blackberry where she really could only text and make important calls.

Ellie also disappeared often during the day, you only ever really saw her when it was rainy or pushing 8 pm. She’d go ghost on a sunny day but made up for it by pampering you with gentle kisses until you were coated in purple at your neck. 

For all of her cons; sins and flaws; aka the disappearing act she made up for it every time. She made it impossible for you to leave. Caging you in by gifting you things that only a fool would leave behind. She gave you a gift of a dainty necklace, as her hands rubbed against your neck to your shoulders placing it right at the center, locking the clasp, and begging you to never take it off. Ellie’s hands didn’t move from behind you when she gave you the necklace that night. It was almost as if she tempted to choke you with it until you listened to her. So you nodded, grabbing onto the little charm, before bringing up a hand to your nose; scrunching your face up at the weird smell the necklace was emulating. Almost like rosemary, thieves, and rotting onion. But you didn’t ask questions, you couldn’t before she whisked you away with a brief kiss to your lips, nibbling at your moisturized lips. 

“You love me, right?” 

You loved her. With all your precious human beating heart you loved her. Loved her so much that you allowed her to get vulnerable with you that night in the bedroom.

Bashful yet bitchy and sarcastic Ellie became demonic, rough, and perfectly submissive. Ellie was a sucker for fruits. The one human food that didn’t make her stomach queasy and the only thing that could satisfy her cravings for your blood. Preferably all red to enhance the eroticism of the taste.

Ellie found passion in draining the juice out of cherries, swirling her tongue over the plump treat poking her fangs out, before dipping her head down gliding the juices amongst your neck from her tongue.

Ellie repeated this action again. Taking the gentle cherry and squeezing it over your neck, swirling its juices onto your skin with her slender fingers before chewing it whole. Licking her finger tips as she swallowed the fruit whole tossing the pit to the floor.

Ellie watched as your neck dripped the dark crimson liquid, rushing to lick it up; before any of it reached your sheets to leave a fresh splosh stain of red. Ellie was drunk off of the sight of you. Licking over you like a lollipop as her tongue scraped your neck, getting close to your ear.

Ellie lost control.

between the bittersweet taste of the cherries, your fresh and loud perfume it was driving her crazy. Ellie thought her head was screwed on tight, but smelling the scent of one she would call her lover Ellie wanted to do nothing more than cover you in her own. Mask you from the world, hiding you away in greed and hunger.

Her hands gripped at the sheets, fist balled up as she masked a moan struggling to do so when your hand was in her pants. Ellie unfolding like a red lace satin ribbon until she was nothing but a soul. Climax rising deeper…and deeper. You were rubbing up and down in between her folds as she shuttered to hold herself up. Your fingers wet and covered in her juices enough for the wetness to fill the room with a simple pat.

Ellie took the initiative to dig her own hand in between your sleep shorts, mirror your hand motions as the lewd sounds escaped your lips in pure appeasement. Clawing at her back like a cat with your freehand.

Ellie was heavy breathing as her pitch got louder and higher, hips bucking as her hair clung to her forehead in fits of sweat.

Ellie turned into nothing but a moaning mess that night. Shrouding her head in your neck pampering kisses until she couldn’t control the cobra shake of her sharpened fangs pricking her tongue, offsetting her tastebuds. No, she couldn't.

Ellie's mind was shouting a mixture of no's and yes's as she tried to pull away only for you to pull her closer. Ellie let out an animalistic growl muttering an oh fuck before she sunk her teeth into your neck.

“Fuck…wait” Ellie moaned out. She was glad you couldn’t see her face, eyebrows furrowed but her eyes a deep red as veins started to crawl through her skin preparing her to finish off the feed.

Ellie knew if she fed off of you she wouldn’t be able to stop. Until you were one of her, a vampire and your beating heart stopped. Like Ellie needed you, she needed the book; she was going to complete the prophecy.

It starts with you, her perfect pawn.

You tasted like a rich pomegranate in the summer, Ellie’s fangs pulsating as it was deep in the flesh on your neck. Shaking your tender flesh in between her teeth like a dog.

Ellie didn't draw blood but punctured the skin, wincing at the sound of your skin separating between her fangs through her gentle ears. You pushed her away squeezing your eyes closed in pain. Skin pulsing and stinging as her mouth left your neck.

“Ow!- did you just…did you just bite me?”

The redhead stopped, freckles coated a red flush amongst her pale skin, Ellie rambled a hundred sorries. Like a deer gone hunting the cherry juice stained her chin and around her mouth as if she had been messy eating and playing into a ruby lipstick. Stumbling and tripping over her feet as she rushed to put her shoes on and head for your front door as you shouted her name behind her.

Her hair was frazzled, her leather jacket discarded, and her fly unfortunately down.

Leaving you in a mess of saliva and cherry juice; with a pulsating bite mark in your kneck.

48 hours and a complicated reddit search later, with Ellie out of your hair; due to her shame and embarrassment was enough time for a blonde hair slayer to play witness protection.

You were steadily growing frustrated at the repetition of the doorbell ringing as the person on the other end was hitting it like a childish teenager playing ding-dong ditch. Rushing to the door slamming it open to be met with a tall buff blonde who was giving you a perfect smile. Likewise to Ellie, she was notably pale, the color drained from her face almost fading away to her hair making her look like a stoned statue. Thick raybands on her eyes as she held up a terribly condition detectives badge.

“Sorry to cause a disruption, but are you y/n?” The girl spoke up, leaning into her one arm that was posted up against the door creating a distance before the two of you. 

You remained silent pushing your knit cardigan closer to cover up your chest in the nippy pre-winter air. 

“I’m Abby, Abby Anderson and I believe you know someone who is being a threat to this town.”

You froze, eyeing Abby in front of you as she dug around into her leather jacket pocket, plucking out a very old square picture. Placing the picture face down into your hands allows you to unveil it as if it were a gift. Curiosity got the best of you, aching and throbbing fingertips as you vastly whipped it over to view your lover. Your heart felt as if a chain wrapped tightly around the delicate artery feeling as if the wind had knocked out of you. It was Ellie. Your Ellie but this time she was wearing Victorian clothing, a white blouse peeking through as it was a perfected headshot photographed with just the right amount of dusting and age. She was the missing piece of the book. The name scribbled out it was all her -- the book was all hers.

“I don’t…” you begin flipping the picture back over and putting it in front of Abby, with your hand out “I don’t know who this is. . .”

“I knew you would say that”

Abby snickered as she looked down rubbing her boots against your welcome matt, 

“I think its time we chat. Could I have a glass of water please” Abby sends a smile as you prepare to turn your back on the blonde in front of you

Abby was always ahead. Ahead of Ellie, ahead of you, she had been hunting for years. After an accidental bite forced her to succumb to vampirism, life only got hard. Abby shrouded herself away finding comfort in putting down ruthless bloodsuckers who had no better job than to compel humans and make them into a tasty blood margarita. Abby didn’t want the same fate for you. Watching Ellie like a hawk; perhaps a stalker. It was all for a good cause. Ellie was awfully sloppy with how she carried the people she fed from. Sinking her teeth into an innocent being as she drank…and drank until their bodies fell cold and limp against the pavement. Ellie let out a sly moan in satisfaction as she watched the life get sucked out of her victims. The blood dripped down her chin, blood-drunk as she laughed in satisfaction as she licked the blood off of her fangs, and from around her lips being careful not to waste a single damn drop. 

Ever since you got in the picture, Ellie’s sloppiness got worse than normal, her drinking patterns have gotten sloppier, and parts of her brain toyed with her. As she strolled the streets at night looking for her midnight snack, sucking the salted liquid through her fangs with her luscious eyes closed, fluttering against the tip of the apple to her cheeks. Ellie saw you. When her eyes closed she pretended that they were you, hell she would never actually do this to you but she couldn’t get your toxic scent out of her mind. Moaning into the neck that she feeds whispering your name as her fangs dig in deeper and suddenly she loses all control, killing the being in the process. Ellie was deeply flawed; allowing a human to get in between the priorities of her stone-cold heart, but whatever she wanted she was certain she would have. 

“I think you have to invite me in first, it’s impolite for me to walk into your wonderful home without permission” Abby confessed, lying straight through her teeth, she didn’t care what was right or wrong she just needed permission or else she wouldn’t be allowed in. 

Deja vu hit you, remembering how Ellie made the same statement the first time she came over to visit you apart from the museum. 

“You may come in”

Acerbus  Bitter, gloomy, and dark. 

Vampire. 

That was a word that was enough to make your stomach curl up into a million knots.

The cold ones. 

No one could have prepared you to put your girlfriend to rest. The person who you saw forever with, wanting to get married and have a couple of children too, was all nothing but a lie and impossible. It was so refreshing to you, like a kiss of air, and nature healing itself, but slowly your emotions and your joy turned into a rotting flower, decaying along with all of your emotions tinted black. Over the course of a few weeks, you’ve sharpened your knives and coated your doors in some kind of vampire repellent given to you by Abby. The blonde has taught you how to hunt and detect vampires, the power of the stake, and what unfinished business Abby had with taking down Ellie.

Ellie on the other hand, you haven’t seen in a few days. Maybe it was because you were distracted; the auburn girl turning to nothing but a whisper and rattle of the leaves, spiraling into another one of her disappearing acts. 

Now you stood at her very own tombstone, which seemed rather distasteful; bless you, but you were trespassing. Trailing behind Abby like a lost puppy as she took a hammer, drawing back her arm to slam onto the lock that was Ellie’s above-ground grave. Abby came up with a bright and elite plan on how to trap Ellie back at the museum, but the two of you couldn’t have done it without the weapon that knocked her into a stone coma for ages. No, it doesn’t kill her, but it would slow her down and freeze her until it was time for her to be brought back; which would be never. You thought it was beautiful, fresh marble and sleek black with roses surrounding the front entrance into her small 4x4 square, which the main entrance was blocked by a gate — with a hefty lock which you assumed was where Ellie’s casket had been placed. 

“The roses are fresh, I think it’s best if we hurry” Abby whispers, matching the tone of the wind that was spirling above the two of you.

Abby took her hands dragging them down at the lock which opened the gate to Ellie’s tomb. The inside was barely lit, with unlit candles surrounding Ellie’s coffin that had the lid wide open with chains dangling from it. Modern-day gothic– and eerie to the touch. As you took careful steps walking around it; it seemed almost impersonal. You wanted to cry and shrivel up, that the way you’d been living for 3 months was a lie, running your hands around the perimeter of her coffin as if you were looking down at a body inside. But there was nobody and you knew the worst would have to come for Ellie to soon return to her rightful place. Abby however got right to work, brushing past you to tap every corner of the brick, reaching for Ellie’s casket, and digging through the built-in cushions. Abby grunts until she stops when her fingers prick a sharp tool. 

“Ow!... I got it” Abby hissed as she pulled out a thick and sleek shiny silver dagger with Latin scriptures engraved into the handle and metal of the knife. Abby briefly wiped it against the leather, twirling it in her hand before taking a bag of mercury and dipping the tip of the knife into the material. All you could do is watch, stake in the back pocket of your jeans that was covered by your jacket. 

“So what now?” you pushed, putting a hand on your hip.

“We get the fuck ou—-”

Abby stopped talking briefly pulling you into a shadow, blocked by a pillar making you go unnoticed.

“What are you—” 

Abby shushed you, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth as you now heard what Abby was hearing. Strong, sloppy footsteps, walking into the tomb as the gate to the entranced creaked.

The stranger groaned before letting out a sniff into the air. 

“Y/n I know you’re here.” Ellie croaked, her voice slurring as she limped towards her own casket hovering over it with a loud creak as your body shook beneath Abby’s gentle touch. 

“The cats out of the bag babe, fuckin’... let’s just talk c’mon” Ellie pleaded as her boots squeaked against the floor as she was visibly pacing. 

You shook your head as Abby briefly turned your body around whispering to you.

It’s the only way. 

With that Abby pushed you out from the hiding spot making you let out a yelp as you stumbled onto the floor in front of Ellie. She looked demonic, unreal almost. Blood dripping down her chin spread against her chest, and her hair was a filthy mess. Her once-green eyes glowed a sweet red under the pale moonlight as she watched you crumble on the floor trying to stand up.

“There you are~” Ellie teased as she took a few steps towards you making you crawl back.

“Thought we were gonna have to play hide and seek glad you’re so smart” Ellie taunted as she turned around kicking over a few candles surrounding her casket. 

“What did you do?” You shouted, groaning as you used the nearby wall to push your weight up.

“Who did you kill?” 

Ellie laughed. You frowned; disgustedly watching as Ellie only laughed at your panicked state. She thought your fear was funny, she could smell it off of you. 

“Why? You scared?” Ellie jabbed tilting her head with a really? expression on her face. 

Ellie reached her arm out for you to take which you stared at as if she was infected, so she took it back rolling her eyes. Ellie slid off her leather jacket and threw it onto the floor at your feet giving you a perfect view of her spaghetti-strapped cami and the tattoo on her arm.

“I think of you when I feed you know…as my teeth sink down into someone so innocent, like a deer…”Ellie began as she walked towards you slowly making you walk backward moving away.

“Get away from me” you gritted taking the stake out from your back pocket and crossing it over your front pointing side up.

“Ooh~” Ellie teased as she walked even closer until the stake was lined up with her heart. “What are you gonna do, kill me?” Ellie whined giving you a false pout similar to when you first met her in the museum and she stole the book.

“Not even a kiss goodbye?” Ellie taunted, as her body hovered over yours pressing deepening to the stake that was carving into her shoulder.

“Only you could hurt me like this, god what are you doing?” Ellie whispered, with that the waterworks came through as you started to cry, sobbing viciously letting out cries of “get away” as she was in front of you.

“Shh…Shh…Shh” Elie started grabbing at your arms with a firm hold from the base of your wrist gripping tightly. “Don’t cry” Ellie comforted you as she kept one arm around yours holding the dagger and another one up at your temple to which she leaned in giving you a kiss on the cheek staining your cheek with blood. Not her blood or your own but someone else, making you cry even more.

“I don’t- I can’t…we’re over Ellie” You cried out, sniffling in between sobs as your head dropped in defeat. 

“I’m sorry I lied to you. . . I’m sorry for what I did. . .I can’t control it, you know that right?” Ellie took a large gulp as she backed away from you shaking out her hands. Ellie was suddenly getting nervous, panicking at the way you were crying.  “I just get these urges, I only feed when I want to feed off you so I don’t hurt you. Babe, please listen to me”

“I have to kill you.” You dropped the bomb as Ellie’s sudden panicked state turned defense; she was getting angry and hostile. “I let you into my home…I let you kiss me, I let you fuck me and you didn’t think once to tell me who you really were”

“How is that fair?”

Ellie was numb, staring at you; her lover with a deadpanned expression on her face, deprived of any emotion, she was being straightforward “If you are gonna kill me don’t use that it’s not gonna work” Ellie spat, backing away as she walked over to her coffin staring down at the white cushioning inside. Finally wiping her chin with the back of her hand. 

“You’re gonna let me kill you?” you inquired, lowering the dagger by your waist as you watched Ellie watch over her own coffin.

“Only you. Because I know eventually you’ll miss me and take it out and set me free.”

“You don’t know that” you shook your head.

“But I do, I always do” Ellie took the initiative to reach into the coffin similar to how Abby did when the two of you first entered the tomb, patting the bedding as her eyes scrunched up in confusion as she looked away from you.

“Wait where is it”

You knew what she was looking for.

“Y/n what did you do with the dagger that was in this coffin…god what is that smell who is in here with you” Ellie was growing pissed off; anger nagging at her as she was looking control again, fangs poking out on instinct as she grew hostile within the room.

“It’s just me…” 

Ellie shook her head closing the coffin. “No someone else is here I can feel them” 

“Ellie…it’s just me” you whispered, trying to convince her as best as you possibly good. There was no way she would buy it, but you could lie your ass off and hope she wouldn’t sniff out the hound. 

“You can’t kill me with that, I say you just go for it and let whoever took the main piece finish me off” 

“Ellie I can’t—”

“I love you!”

You froze, you were her lifeline her weakness. The tether that kept her together as your soul was indefinitely embedded in her own. I love you, so sentimental and meaningful you didn’t wanna use it lightly and in this moment you knew she wasn’t using it against you. 

“Hey…shhh don’t cry, I love you” 

You had no time to prepare, lost in her lustful green eyes, pupils dilating at the sight of you. As Abby snuck behind her, stabbing Ellie in the back making the both of you let out a gasp. Ellie looked down to her chest seeing the dagger poking through the other side of her body. Black blood pooled out and meshed with her black camisole. Ellie tilted her head to look at you, who had your arms steady around her shoulders so she wouldn’t tip over. Your Ellie gave you a faint smile. Your fear-stricken face, eyes wide as you looked at Abby who paced around Ellie to see if the dagger even worked. 

“H-have…fun”

“What?” you jabbed, face scrunching up in confusion. Ellie didn’t look afraid to die, hell she knew you would need her. Her words slurred as she was slowly succumbing to an endless slumber. 

“Have fun, my blood is….blood ‘n your veins…I’ve put…I put my blood in your tea. Good luck being a vampire baby fangs”

Baby fangs. 

Abby shouted NO! Behind you, but it was far too late. Ellie took out her hidden arm revealing a similar dagger to her very own; raising her arm up reflexively to jab it into your own neck as your blood started to pool out. No, it wasn’t going to kill you permanently. However, it would trigger a death into human you and allow you to become what Ellie was. What you tried so hard not to be. 

A bloodthirsty vengeful vampire. 

You panicked at your slow-beating heart; transcending you into a state of permanent drowsiness and immortality. Beats moving slower and slower as if your heart was put in a freezer locker and your body was chilling over. There was nothing you could do, it was too late. Tears pricked your eyes as a salty clear tear dripped down your face as you felt yourself lose consciousness collapsing on top of your already stoning lover. She betrayed you, the sneaky sly fox was ahead of you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing 

“I told you I loved you.”

© cowgirlcherrie