#magic uncle chill

[priapussdick]

"where is you ability to perform in-depth analysis?"

that's my favorite insult from now on

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

(Click for better quality, because this was a PAIN to get on Tumblr T-T )

Tried drawing Uncle Sly for the AU again :)

First drawing is mostly canon accurate (mix between his description and his picture), and the second exists, because I somehow thought Uncle Sly had a trench coat, but that was literally never mentioned in the books, pretty sure. But he owns one, in this AU.

And I also wanted to draw one with colour, so there's three

(Sylvester is kinda a banging name though tbh. Shout out to him)

[lordkingsmith]

I see we have entered into a new phase of aesthetics. Which comes with the addition of my pointing at the background boys thinking "COTTAGE CORE!!!!" while lying on the floor pointing at the girlies in your icon whispering "babies...precious babies..."

Which really all just amounts to:

the background is cottagecore handsome boys that are both unbelievably pro-murder and then my icon are sweeties who are trying to be far tougher than they are but should still be handled carefully. in short, I am ushering in my 'I am kind, I am good, but I am not nice and don't mix those up :)'

thank you ^-^

half the reason I wanna make a movie; so I can promptly crossover everyone and make them queer af. and then marah and kapri are just a mood. gotta combine the moods somehow lolololol

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── zｚＺ nct dream on reader calling them oppa.

nct dream sfw headcanon. *(삼촌 (samchon: uncle) library.

mark. he doesn't pay much attention to honorifics once he's friends with someone. besides, he's used to being called by you and haechan any variation of his name instead of his own, he finds makgeolli, mwork, markeuri funny, he just likes it more when you do it. but, the times you call him oppa he can't help but feel a certain way; somehow, it sounds endearing when you say it, but he wouldn't know how to tell you to do it more often without revealing too much about why. maybe he would joke about it, something like “dude, ah..., why don't you just call me oppa for once?” but hoping you would actually think about it.

jaemin. he wouldn't pay too much attention if you decide to call him by his name one day you realize you two are close, though he would feel like something is missing, he would feel weird until he realizes it's you, so he'd start referring to himself as oppa when you're around. “let oppa take care of it.” “oppa cooked you some meal.” he's the sweetest oppa ever. always taking care of you, making sure you're okay. acts super helpful. it's the way your voice sounds more tender when you refer to him than the rest, it makes him feel special; you make him feel special.

chenle. one time you heard him saying he likes it better when girls say his name... and last name. then you started calling him that way, and he didn't want to correct you at the time, so he went along with it because he doesn't care much if you use oppa or not..., right? when you start calling him by his first and last name, the boy thinks he's dying. he feels physically unwell. maybe he's exaggerated a bit that he doesn't care. constantly waiting for you to magically decide to call him oppa again without him having to intervene; it doesn't work and in the end he has to drop a super casual comment, “actually, i don't like how my name sounds in your mouth. call me oppa again.”

haechan. it's the only way you can get his attention. the guy acts like his name is neither lee haechan, nor lee donghyuck, nor dummy, brat, jerk... eventually you give in and he'd reply to you with the most condescending tone he has, “yes?” “you're unbelievable.” even though he wants to hide it, he actually melts when you use oppa when referring to him. it's a confidence boost for him. he would act overprotective in the future with you, and you would realize that it serves as a way for him to do what you ask.

jeno. it's a simple word that for obvious reasons he's heard it before, but why does he always expect you to call him that? somehow, hearing oppa from your lips is a heartwarming feeling knowing that you only call him that among the dreamies. poor guy, he'd spend all day wondering why him? why only him? “maybe she likes you.” jaemin would suggest after listening to him vent for a solid half hour. maybe, maybe..., his crescent eyes would widen in panic, “what if she's been calling me oppa in a brotherly way?”

renjun. if you are learning korean, then renjun would be the grammar rules policeman. just because what if you are talking to a stranger and you call them oppa? he'd emphasize that you should only call guys you consider close to you, like him, by that name. “what about your friends?” you may ask, “just call them by their full names, i guess,” he'd respond. ok, maybe he has offered to help you with your korean because every time you ask him something you always call him oppa as he takes this very seriously. “thank you, samchon!” uncle? uncle? there would be no way to describe his face other than grumpy. “you, brat!”

jisung. for the love of god, never call him that. nicknames, if you like. somehow, being called oppa makes him feel weird, especially if you do. it makes him nervous, it makes him sweat, it makes his stomach churn. maybe he's getting sick and doesn't know how to react to appear cool and chill. maybe he should tell you? why does he feel like he shouldn't? that it should be a secret what he feels? “hey, do you feel weird when yn calls you oppa?” he asks jeno; he somehow has the answer. “weird how?” “like you could explode if she keeps calling you that?” he looks at jeno in awe when he starts giggling, “doesn't that happen when you like someone?” oh. maybe. maybe that's it.

© diorcities / tagging @tddyhyck ♡︎

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and babysitting kids

ib the return of superman w svt bc i watched all the eps w jeonghao + junshua recently and it made me soft :((

masterlist

seungcheol:

better with kids than some of the others, but cautious. has the experience to take care of the child, but he's worried about coming off as too mean or harsh bc he's used to dealing with grown men with the mannerisms of children instead of actual children n he's too afraid of making the children cry if he's too strict w them. is very Parent when it comes to looking after the child, like, literally acts like their mom and makes them eat their vegetables and fusses over them when they spill something and makes sure they go to bed on time. the efficient person when it comes to looking after children

jeonghan:

he's so sweet. maybe a little too sweet bc as soon as the child is making the slightest whining noises he's dropping everything and doing aegyo or getting out all the toys or offering snacks bc god forbid a child starts crying in his care :((( good at being all gentle wheedler when he's exhausted out of his mind tho but he's just so weak that he doesn't do it often. lets them stay up half an hour past their bedtime. plays hide and seek with them a total of twelve times in a row. he's exhausted by the end of it, but the parents are smiling and the child is telling them how much they adore jeonghan and really that makes it all worth it for him

joshua:

the adorable uncle!! spends fifteen whole minutes explaining his name to the child, before giving up and telling them to call him jisoo. which leads to even more confusion bc he has two names???? what???? very excitable, but also clueless. he's an only child, what can he say? lets the kid get away with most things. when he inevitably exhausts himself two hours in by going way too hard while playing chase, he speaks in a cutesy tone and tries to convince the child to play some more sitting down activities. it always works, and honestly even tho he's terrible at puzzles it's better than going thru fitness training for five hrs straight

junhui:

eagerly participates in the child's made up games! pretends he's a superhero spy with them, pretends he's a magic prince(ess) with them, pretends they're pirates and encounter a ginormous sea monster with them. forgets to feed the child dinner because they're too busy playing, and so he lets them eat a whole hour after their bed time and because they're so late it takes ages to wash up and tuck the child into bed and eventually, the kid is only just going to sleep and it's three am and the parents are pulling up to the front of the house. but it's okay, because the child had fun and junhui had fun too

hoshi:

loves it the most when the children pretend they're animals. or if they have animal toys. managed to get into a fight with one of the kids once bc they wanted to be a tiger and soonyoung insisted that only he could be a tiger. almost made the child cry before eventually agreeing that they could both be tigers. gets hungry really quickly, so he ends up eating half of the child's dinner, then gives them loads of junk food to compensate for it. bad idea though, because now he has a child that's bouncing off the walls and it takes him hours to convince them to Not try and be spiderman and climb the walls and to Please get into bed because your parents are going to be home any minute and they are going to Obliterate me if you're still up

wonwoo:

he's chill. acts like a ghost that's simply observing the child's movements. only speaks when they start doing something they shouldn't or when it's time for dinner or when they should go up and get ready for bed. sometimes plays with the child if they ask him really nicely, but most of the time he's zoned out and staring at the wall, letting the child do whatever they want (so long as it's within the rules that he's been given)

jihoon:

awkward with children. doesn't know what to do. introduces himself and then holds out his hand for the child to shake. sits on the couch like he's ready to bolt any second. ends up putting the tv on for the child so that the silence in the room isn't too deafening. definitely warms up more as the night goes on, and ends up engaging in conversation with the child about how their life is at school. he forgets the names of all the children that the kid mentions though so he has no idea who has drama with who and how they're all connected but he nods and frowns and gasps in what he hopes are all the right places

minghao:

he loves children. so eager to play with them, encourages them to introduce all their toys to him and their histories and their relationships. shows them his cool hand tricks, has them gaping at him in awe for several minutes after. he's very shy, surprisingly, so desperately wanting to be all hyper and loud with the child but worried it will come off as too excitable. tries to teach the child better habits, too, talking to them about handling emotions and how emotional manipulation w tears will Not work on him, nice try. makes sure they eat their greens, and helps them brush their teeth as they get ready for bed. reads them a book and does one last finger trick before patting them on the head goodnight <;3

mingyu:

dramatic. big baby. literally acts like a child too. by the end of the evening, he's made a new friend and has pinky promised thrice that he'll come over some time for a proper play date with them. lets the child do whatever they want, with him and just in general. doesn't force the child to eat their greens bc honestly he finds those yuck too, and lets them go to bed later bc they gave him the most adorable puppy eyes and he's weak for that. reads them like five bedtime stories, acts out two of them, and would have definitely sung a song as well if he hadn't gotten a text saying the parents were coming home. rated 10/10 by all the children he's looked after

dokyeom:

the sweetest :(((( literally the most adorable with kids. treats them as if they're his younger siblings. is unintentionally doing aegyo the entire time he's with them bc he's just being influenced by so much cuteness all around him that he does it too. lets the child play with his hair, his clothes, his fingers. does the child's hair for them when they ask, and throws them into the air so many times that the child is almost sick all over him. plays hide and seek several times, two of which he was the one hiding from the child. almost forgets to put the child to bed, but then tucks them in really nicely and sings to them so sweetly. can't leave the room until the child falls asleep tho bc they insisted on grabbing onto his fingers and won't let go bc they're afraid he'll go away :((

seungkwan:

very fussy over children. dotes on them like he's a rich musty aunt, pinching their cheeks and calling them adorable every five seconds. participates in their made up games, but is hit with reality minimum three times every game bc even though he loves pretending he's a princess dressed in a pink and purple dress, it does feel weird when reality slaps you across the face. very good at Following the Schedule, and becomes almost sergeant-like while the child is brushing their teeth, standing over them and measuring the time to make sure they're doing it correctly. kisses the child on the forehead goodnight, giving their cheeks one last squeeze before tucking them in for the night

hansol:

kinda just there to have food. he's good with children tho, paying the right amount of attention to them and making all the exaggerated facial expressions that they adore. finds kids rlly adorable, but also just kinda sits there n munches on snacks half the time. asks the child how much english they know, quizzes them on the numbers from 1 to 100. all in all he's pretty good with children, feeding them on time and getting them to bed on time. ends up being so good that they fall asleep a long while before the parents come home, so he's just kinda sitting on the couch n staring at the wall for a while

chan:

literally acts like a child too (2). great with kids and matches their energy immaculately. isn't really into dressing up or chasing, but he's great at made up games and board games. once spent the entire evening playing snakes and ladders, bc it was a tense match okay and he was sure the child had to be cheating bc how were they always ahead of him?? makes sure they eat their food properly + very good at convincing them their veggies taste delicious. watches the child jump on their bed for a solid ten minutes, despite having been given express instructions to Not let the child jump on the bed, but really, how can he say no when theyre so adorable?

request guidelines

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[stuckinhell102]

Hello can I request for Rayne (mashle) how he has no choice but to bring his children (twin boys,that looks exactly like hime except that the other twin hair is in opposite directions) to the divine visionary office cuz his partner/wife has to go somewhere and then somehow Mash and the gang needs to go to the Divine Visionary office too and a whole Mashle shenanigans and chaose ensues.

But if it's too much you could ignore this. Take care and have a good day 😄

I chose to write only the reaction of the characters sorry if this is not exactly what ya wanted.

Everyone in this scenario is an adult!

The gang meeting Rayne's and Reader's kids

SFW|Platonic

Mash is the most chill one of the bunch.He just smiles at the kids and offers them cream puffs.I

Lance is confused and suprised but then his face turns blank.If the children bother him he would simply stare at them and made use magic to create them some plushies.

Fin already knows about them so he is actually pretty cool headed and he plays with the children.

Lemon was the one that was the most suprised but after a moment of shock she gave the 2 cute little accessories and told them that they are adorable.

Dot tries way too hard to get the kids to see him as a cool uncle but they only see him as a cringy, annoying and occasionally funny uncle.

Rayne just stands there and watches the show but if his kids go overboard he will tell them to stop.

When his beloved returns home from a trip he told her what happened and she only laughed.

[harringtown]

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

-

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high.  And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good—”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

-

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[artethyst]

~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! OC/Reader

Little Silas Vanserra had Eris vowing to never have anymore children.

He thanked the Mother that his daughter was a little angel- still at the age where she wanted to be carried everywhere, snuggled peacefully in an adult’s arms.

Her pale hair and violet ringed autumnal eyes reminding him so much of the woman he loved.

Her older brother was the complete opposite.

He wondered if this was his punishment, a cruel joke played upon him by the Gods for having such a carefree life since his father died and reminding him that he needed to keep his faltered guard up.

And that’s how he felt in the early hours of the morning, with little hands patting at his face and excited little feet hopping on the oak floors of his bedroom.

Tired.

He cracked one amber eye open- unceremoniously meeting a matching golden flecked iris, one full of wonder and guiltlessness, as he supposed his own once were.

He closed it as quickly as it had opened, letting a wry smirk take over his ostensibly lazed features.

“Daddyyyy I know you’re awake-“ the little boy began incredulously before shrieking in glee as Eris swooped him onto his chest with ease, tickling his son mercilessly as his Mate softly slept beside him.

After the boy had relented, his rounded cheek flushed with the childish mirth of giggles, Eris couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the boy’s wild red locks.

As expected the boy’s mother was still soundly asleep, Eris had always been a light sleeper, in fact having his Mate beside him and children down the hall only worsened the fact, even though his father was no longer a threat- to him or his loved ones, simply having them in such a place always had him on high alert.

Even though he had done his very best to rid the Autumn Court of longtime Advisors, the types of men that would love nothing more than to see the Night Court Princess with a Fae bane arrow through her much too large heart, he knew there was no good in him-undeserved of him in ever feeling content.

It had the opposite effect on his wife, who admittedly had never slept better than when she was in the comforting arms of her husband- the natural warmth emanating from him lulling her into such ecstasy she wished she never had to be cruelly ripped away from by the chill of the Autumn morning.

She had never really slept well in the Night Court, the pain of living there without her mother sister always too much to bear.

Eris was her new home.

Since having children- her body still not quite having recovered from their second and Eris insisting she get as much rest at she could, even the joyous squeals of her firstborn still wouldn’t- couldn’t make her budge.

“Daddy Uncle Lulu said you p-pwomised-“

“Promised,”

“Promised to show me m-my fire againnn!”

The boy was practically trembling with excitement, his father’s hands coming to steady him as his little body wriggled with joy, perched on his father’s raised knees who raised a slim digit to his smaller lips, reminding him to remain quiet as possible.

Not that it would have made a difference to the blissfully knocked out woman beside them.

“Did he now?” Eris withered, the thought of his brother- knowing just how much he treasured the few late mornings a High Lord might have, had told his son- who’s adorable little face noone could deny, that those small, valuable hours were reserved for “magic time”.

It took only a brief moment, a fleeting fall of Silas’ dimpled grin- his mother’s grin, to have the High Lord swinging his legs from the refuge of his silken sheets, his boy held firmly in his strong hands.

“Then I think it is best we get dressed appropriately, what do you say Little Flame?”

The boy simply cheered in response and Eris couldn’t help the grin on his own face at the feel of chubby hands around his neck in a makeshift embrace, carrying him down the hall as his son rattled on in half nonsensical toddler speak about how he was going to ‘beat his Uncle Lulu in a duel’.

~

The Maids cooed as the little Prince raced down the hall in his teeny tiny Autumnal uniform- gifted to him by his Aunty Elain who thought they were the cutest thing ever.

The boy stopped when he reached the top of the grand staircase, skidding to a halt with a nervous expression on his little face.

The same staircase his Mummy always carried him down, the same staircase he had been told to scoot down on his bottom in case he tripped, the same staircase she had been slowly helping him descend himself (holding his hand tightly and giving up halfway as he took nearly a whole minute per ten steps)

Eris watched him amusedly- a miserable jutted lip and a coy flush on his baby cheeks.

“Umm Daddy, M-Mummy said I am not s’pose to go down m-myself in case of ouchies…”

That was not what she had said.

“I thought you were a big boy now, hmm?” Eris teased as his son pouted, just as his mother would have.

“I-I am…” Silas’ point was refuted with the small grabby motions his little arms made to his father who looked down at him with a smirk.

“Do big boys get carried down the stairs?”

“Ummm…Yes?” The boy widened his glimmering autumnal eyes, “pleasies?”

And so with a roll of his eyes, all in good humour, Eris fastened his excitable son against his chest as they began to exit the grand estate, heading into the vast, luscious gardens where they would begin their training.

~

Lucien could only laugh when found his brother- sincere and unbridled joy dancing in his otherwise piercing gaze, watching his son chase after the little flames he made for him.

“Uncle Lulu!” The boy squealed, barrelling into the male who swung him atop his shoulders with ease.

“I’d be careful if I were you,” Eris warned, “he has quickly figured out how to control his magic, you might end up with that treasured hair of your singed at the root.”

Silas nodded furiously, his little feet hitting the floor as he flexed his small palm as proof, and to his pure wonder, delicate embers- faint as they were, twinkled at his will.

“Look Daddy! I did it! I did it!” Eris couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his son danced with not only with the little flicker he had mustered with his father’s help, but larger wistful wisps that flowed around him with delicate care.

Eris couldn’t help but feel his heart constrict, wishing nothing more than to give his children the childhood he had wanted- deserved.

He took one look at his son and wondered how anyone could ever hurt him, let alone do it himself.

He wondered what he had done to make his own father hate him so, vowing to never once make his own offspring feel even a fraction of the way he had.

For what seemed like hours Lucien and Eris entertained the little boy, sometimes engaging in a silent battle between one another who could impress the young heir the most.

Lucien eventually was called away and Eris wondered if his years were finally catching up to him, small burn marks littering his clothes from his son’s inexperienced hands and an ache in his legs from chasing after him.

After Silas’ giggles had dissipated along with his energy, Eris suggested they head back, the boy agreed sleepily, the thrum of magic still alive in his little body as Eris made a mental note to keep an eye on his budding powers.

“T-Thank you for giving me my fire,” Silas mumbled, stumbling over to his father “love you Daddy…”And as a pair of all too familiar amber eyes met the High Lord’s blurring own, he bent down and received his greatest gift in his trembling arms.

A reminder he would never be the man who had damned him, a reminder that he was a good man- a good man that was loved.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

[searchingforserendipity25]

Fearing Not A Shadow Nor A Chill

Day 5 of @elrondweek. Elrond/Celebrían & Children. Here or on AO3.

-

"I used to long very much," Celebrían had told him once. "For a playmate as near in age as Elros was to you."

Elrond had not answered. He walked beside her, by shores of the Aduin's first strong fountain-streams, and very carefully did not look too plainly upon Lady Celebrían's curved mouth, the yarrow leaf she turned and turned between her fingers.

He needed not to speak. Lady Celebrían, he had learned very quickly, was not one to wait very long to complete her ideas, none of which, she plainly felt, required much counsel or permission at all.

"Amroth was so much the elder, and so much a stranger even to my parents, who loved him as a cousin and as a son. I was lonesome and without companions, and though the joys and secrets of Lórien need not be shared to be true, still I have found them to be the greater when seen by two, and not one alone."

"So it is, in most places I have journeyed to, and not Lórien alone," said Elrond, carefully. It was the early days of their friendship, and already he had learned to be cautious with his mind and words and heart near Lady Galadriel's daughter, grey-eyed Celebrían whose conversations was like the waters of her own lands, leaping, quick and meandering and full of hidden roots to trip upon.

"I suppose, then, you would wish for children, and not one alone. That is good." Celebrían said, as if it were a natural thing to speak of, on the eve of battle, to the king's own herald.

Her eyes shone, too, with a brightness of sun on water, a glimmering laughing attention. Elrond's heart tripped in his chest, slipped from him again and again.

"I said to Elros I would not marry, if I could not present my children to their uncle."

"He must have teased you very badly," Celebrían guessed, looking at him through her lashes rather shamelessly. "I am sorry I shall not meet him; but then he has so very many descendants, some evil and some not, which on the whole may be better. He may not have wished you to know them, but not much can be done on that account; and at least any children of yours shall not lack for kin. How many would you prefer?"

Elrond, more ancient than some of the rivers and mountains of Imladris, wise in languages and laws and magics, stared.

Smiled, too, a little helplessly. He could not ever quite stop turning towards her when she looked at him with all that bare attention, and he never would; and knowing he never would did not much help in delaying love from taking root.

"A maiden," he said. A woman-child, with Elwing's quick hands at the loom, and Celebrian's way of worrying at the corner of her mouth with her thinking - he saw it, that sure alighting of love.

Celebrían nodded. As if it were that simple - as if it were an agreement, a handfasting, a promise.

"It will be good for the boys to have a sister," Celebrían said. "I used to long very much for a playmate near my age, and another a little my elder, to hide mischief from our parents better."

Elrond, old enough to remember when islands rose at the will of the gods, and all the sea-loving birds flew Westwards in a rush, smiled at her, helplessly enchanted.

-

The days of their early friendship: war ravaged the lands beyond Elrond's hidden valley fortress still. He had not known how to love her. His heart sang, assured from the first, a winged thing certain of its perfect flight - but he had not known her, truly.

He had not meant to be more than a host, her mother's friend - for whatever little that meant. Celebrían was not one to care very much for other people's good intent, when hers was so often an improvement.

For many years they were half-stranger and half-lovers, looking at each other with clear eyes. Over riverbanks and running fountains, desks and dances and the narrow, narrow curving staircases of Imladris, where the brush of a sleeve against a curling palm could be hidden, almost an accident, almost nothing.

To be wed was a thing the Noldor choose only in times of peace, though the the Sindar delayed seldom. Elrond's parents had not waited, and not their parents either; but he did. He was only himself, and too himself to dare otherwise.

Celebrían, he knew, would not have been against a bold flight of passion, not least eloping while her father tarried - would serve him well, she thought.

For Elrond only she delayed. Went patient with her words, and deeds, and the turnings of her mind, as she never had before, or would again.

He thought of it, afterwards, when her ship went where the gulls loved to go, to the place where Elwing's tower rose high, and beyond. All that times spent, that half-time.

There had been a sweetness, too, in the stretching of anticipation, but he could not be certain, afterwards. How they had tasted in his mouth, those kisses ungiven; if his hand had stung to brush her silks, if it had hurt half as much as remembering it would for many centuries.

-

Twins, they had, on purpose. Celebrían was determined, and determined to wait until Elrond was certain he could stand to want it - two little souls, as near in age as Elros had been to him.

Two were enough, they both agreed. Two sons, alike to each other to the tilt of their noses and the curl of their braids. Celebrían's children, restless and in love with the world.

Elrond's children, too, though it felt marvelous and absurd and terrible, many times, to claim such joy as his own. His children, who held his hands as they crossed the many bridges of Imladris, and brought him small treasures, and shared the same closeness he had once known with his own Elros.

Elrohir liked to run, to sing, to make mischief and pull laughter out of Imladris's people like a spark out of a flint - a brusque little surprise, flaring and vulnerable.

He had Celeborn's mouth, and Celeborn's way with beasts and rooted things, and rarely was he ever alone, pockets full of little lizards and shoulders covered with dark eyed minks, ancient serpents twining around his small, very breakable wrists.

He made friends wherever he went, respectful and cheerful and terribly silly; Glorfindel, once of Gondolin by way of friendship with Turgon and Finrod before him, spoke at times with Celebrían of her uncle.

He never made a comparison, never said the words; but it was perhaps a good thing Elrohir had been born of a people and a time with no need for the raising up of new kingdoms. It was perhaps a sorrow, too, but Elrohir never seemed to feel the lack of greatness very sharply, nor the pulling tides of the past either.

Elladan was not so.

Elladan spent half his childhood trying to escape the valley, and the other half hiding wherever he could, in a dozen secret little places that became veiled even to Elrond's senses far too quickly.

He felt sadness very keenly, his mind open like Elrond's to the many voices of the wind and the water and the earth, yet more like his mother's kin, in how the shadows on the hearts of those near and far struck fear and unease and anger in him.

He wept very often, and afterwards laid on their chests, all exhausted weight and heavy eyelashes. Elrond held him the tightest; Elrond was very determined to do so always.

For comfort, Elladan liked to play with the rings in his father's hands, to follow the trail of Iathrim inkings and hunting scars beneath Celebrían's skin. And then of course his brother came to find him, whenever he was distressed, as Elros had found Elrond in Amon Ereb and Sirion and Mithlond, wherever in dying Beleriand that long terrible war brought them.

"This is very good," Celebrían conceded, pressing her nose against their sons's sweet curls, one after the other.

Celebrían pressed her palm to his, her long marked fingers against his rings, Vylia flaring cold and alive wherever at her touch. Her attention set upon him was no less heady. His breast sang towards it only the most surely, whenever his wife's sly joy pressed against his mind; and for an instant the shadow of what might be was easy on it, nearly easy.

She had always seen him very easily, Celebrían Galadriel's daughter. Braver than he, and less patient, was the Lady of Imladris.

"Very good, and no one left lonesome; but I do recall there is a thing not yet done, that I would like to accomplish, and Elros Peredhel would be sure to tease us both very badly, if we both put it aside, on his account."

She came last, the maiden-child with a worried mouth. Tall and fair and not quick to laughter, eager to learn, his stubborn-minded cupbearer and apprentice and scribe.

Then Elrond was happier still, for many years; he had half-forgotten the old images of foresight. It was a long time before his daughter Arwen took to the loom, sitting intent and silent by her mother's bedside, weaving love into a cloak fashioned for warmth; a traveling garment, spelled against the sting of salt.

[heyheycaitalin]

This sweet angel has never and will never do anything wrong, period. Like what has he done that's so wrong? Try to cure his twin sister? Stop a murderous lunatic who sent a fire tornado at him and his friend? Yeah the lunatic was his uncle but again, FIRE TORNADO. And I wasn't even doing anything bad. I was just there trying to get him to chill out.

He also Crucio'd me but what choice did he have??? Let us all starve to death? Crucio the blind kid? He gave me the option of Crucio him or let him Crucio me, and I chose to take the Crucio. It's fine. It hurt like hell but we made it.

He Imperio'd a goblin and made him stab himself, and thats a little outta pocket, but that goblin was gonna kill his sister. He deserved it.

Maybe he let emotions get the better of him. Maybe he's got impulse control issues. Maybe he's a rebel. He's a fucking 15 year old and no one's stepping up. If I had magic and minimal supervision I'd do the same thing.

I support Sebastians rights but more importantly his wrongs. Except he doesn't have any wrongs.

[pachu09]

Isekai, Historical, Magical AU

Tobirama wanted to bash his head onto the nearest hard object his eye could spy. But! He didn't want to furthermore traumatized the child that was contently sitting in his arms.

He was so sure this didn't happened in the manga. The Emperor should have arrived after he successfully rescued Kagami!. So why did the bastard arrived way too early than the plot stated?!. Did he do something wrong?. So far nothing noteworthy happened when he transported in this world. Other than of course he had to learn how to use his Chakra. Which is pretty amazing in itself....

Tobirama cuts off his wandering thoughts and eyed suspiciously the Emperor and his entourage behind him. He better act like he's ignorant of the man's identity. Who knows what the Emperor would do to him if he revealed he knew who he is?.

" I don't really trust a man with a small army at his back not to kill me the moment I handed this child to you. "

The Emperor laugh loudly made Tobirama tensed in fear. " Fair enough, stranger.  Would you mind telling me what is your name so I could properly thank you for singlehandedly rescuing my nephew?. "

Tobirama pursed his lips. He decided to not tell his real name in case the Emperor tried to seek him out. " Call me Bito. " The Emperor face smoothing blankly made Tobirama warily eyed him. He carefully avoided the man's eyes when it seems his carefree attitude had suddenly vanished and then he turn to Kagami again.

" Little one. Your Uncle is here. Don't you want to go Home?. "

Kagami looked up to him with wide eyes. " But Bito!. You promised you'll go Home with me. "

Tobirama twitch. " I didn't promise anything little one. Go on. Your Uncle is waiting. Its rude to make him wait for you. "

Kagami suddenly clutches his neck and kisses his cheek affectionately had made Tobirama nearly drop the child.

" Okay Bito. But promise me you'll come visit me!. "

Tobirama deadpan and just went along in twining his pinky finger to that of the whining child. He then carefully handed a sleepy Kagami back to his Uncle who still had that emotionless look on his face.

He really need to skedaddle out of the Uchiha Kingdom if he doesn't want to end up beheaded like the original owner of this body. Nevermind in breaking his promise to Kagami but his life is on the line here!. Time is ticking and the sooner he's far away from this murderous Emperor the better it is.

Oh!. And he should probably find a noble Husband ( on paper only! He's straight as fuck thank you very much ). Just in case he needed a political backup. He heard the Water Clans like their spouses with Water Affinity. Surely, with how powerful he is he could easily snag a rich Noble there?.

" Thank you again, Bito–san " Tobirama ignored the strange intonation of the Emperor uttering his false name. " I hope we'll meet again soon. "

Tobirama felt chills running down his spine at that innocent remark.

" I don't think so. Since I'm just a passerby in this City. "

The Emperor's dark eyes pinning him on where he stood made Tobirama tensed up again. He's ready to teleport out of there in case the Emperor went nuts.

" Is that so?. And pray tell why you're visiting this...specific City?.

Tobirama scratches his cheek in embarrassment. " Ah. I was hoping I could find a suitable Husband but sadly I find none appealing. So I'm on my way to the next country. "

The Emperor blink and tilted his head at him. " That's strange. No sane City folk would dare to release you if you proposed to be their Spouse. "

Tobirama carefully back away. " Well thank the Gods they don't find me appealing. Goodbye good Sir and take good care of Kagami. That boy is quite a handful at times. " he quickly climb up on his horse and directed it to start walking. He never even look back at the small army behind his back. He's quite afraid to trigger the mad Emperor. He must make sure he can even journey out of the Fire country without any further incident.

Afterall, the original owner of the body he was occupying was unfairly beheaded by that insane Emperor and Tobirama who had read the manga several times had felt pity and sadness at the person who triggered Kagami’s slow descent to insanity. The manga Tobirama ( he's unnerved that he shared the man's name and even physical looks aside from the long hair, which he will surely chop off as soon as he had the chance ) had died because of a wrongful accusation.

Manga Tobirama had paid the false accusation with his reputation and life. And it started as a Catalyst for one Kagami to bear a hateful grudge to his whole Clan and most of all to his once beloved Uncle. The little child that he just met had grew up hating with every fiber of his being the people who made his Sensei suffer needlessly and in the end he managed to rebel against his Uncle but he also lost his own life in the process of trying to kill his own kin.

At the time when he read that particular scene he felt so sad at Kagami’s fate. The boy shouldn't have gone down the path of his hateful revenge. Because he knew one hundred percent that the Tobirama in the manga would have sacrifice his own life again and again just to make sure Kagami would live a happy life.

Tobirama sigh loudly, at least at this time he wouldn't be too close with Kagami and the boy will never go down his dark journey again. As long as he wasn't in the picture. It probably is for the best since he himself need to make sure he wouldn't die in this world.

He tap his horse on its side so that it could gallop faster. He suddenly felt unnerved when he activated his Sensing and it told him the Emperor and his entourage hasn't move from where he left them.

Tobirama decided he better not turn off his Sensing. He feared that there's a tail behind him. Unless he's finally near the Water Country then and only then will he turn it off even though the price of using such Chakra draining technique is tremendous. Ah, he'll makes sure he'll spend a week in Water Country recovering from overusing his Sensing.

With that clear plan, Tobirama gladly proceeds to rode his horse to the nearest small settlement.

~●~●~

A week later.

Tobirama stared at the expensive scroll the innkeeper had handed to him. He nearly drop the thing when he saw the Royal seal of the Uchiha. He decided he had to feign ignorance. Because he didn't really want to read whatever in it.

" I think this letter isn't really for me is it?. "

He donned his serious facial expression. The innkeeper stared confusedly at him.

" The Uchiha General outside the Inn told me to give it specifically to you. "

Tobirama instantly tensed up. The Uchiha General?. Why did he track him down? Shouldn't the Emperor had lost interest in him the moment he crossed over the Water Country?. What did he want from him?. Its not like he'll go back to the Fire Country in his own volition. He likes living and with his head intact. Thank you very much. He then glared at the damning scroll, sighed deeply and unrolled it.

He twitches on his place as he read the Emperor's message. The man is asking if he arrived unscathed to the Water Country. So far so good. Until the next paragraph made him want to scream in frustration.

Apparently, the Emperor is formally inviting him to be Kagami's personal Sensei. He shuddered in fear. No thanks. He better write up his reply quickly and give it to the General outside. His eyes then quickly scan the P.S beneath the Emperor's signature and stamped seal. He felt his Soul literally leaving his body as the message rang across inside his skull painfully.

P.S. If you try to deny my request. I will personally hunt you down and dragged you to my palace. There is no place in this world you can hide from me, Senju Tobirama.

Tobirama thinks it's time to implement his drastic plans. If the Emperor thinks he'll just roll over and do his biddings. He'll prove him wrong by making sure he won't ever catch him!.

~●~●~

A month later, Tobirama was unaware as he was carried back by the Emperor of the Fire Country back to his palace. He was left heavily unconscious as he tried to fight one on one the most powerful man in the Elemental Countries. He was also unaware as he was given a seal on the back of his neck. Stating that he was the Emperor's most prized treasure or that he was installed in the Empress Chambers.

Come morning, Tobirama will wake up to a joyous Kagami jumping on him and the Emperor's Brother personally telling him that the entire Fire Country court was in a political meltdown because the Emperor had gotten rid of his dozens of Concubines because of him.

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Self-Indulgent Magic Misfits AU Art (+pose practice)

Original by mellon_soup on Pinterest

[yzzart]

— I'm your dragon.

© do not repost or translate !

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: maybe a dragon has devoured your tongue.

warnings: incest, SMUT(+18!!!), sexual content, sexual description, a little boob fetish, explicit language & explicit words.

word count: 1.130!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

Your uncle was your biggest curse, and you knew it. — You loved that fact.

Your biggest curse knew your body so well, better than you. It was amazing to see how his rough and cold hands explored every part of your young body, it was so pleasurable and magical.— The way his long fingers ran over and squeezed all your curves made you intoxicated.

With every touch of his, you shivered and lost your breath. You felt so foolish and ridiculous for being so sensitive to that young man.

Your body belonged to Aemond. — The gods knew it and so did you.

"Did a dragon eat your tongue, my sweet niece?" — That damn voice deep and a little muffled passes through your ears, chilling your body once again. He was mocking your little moment of stillness, along with a devilish laugh. — "I hope that dragon is me."

Oh, he was. The dragon that had devoured your tongue, at that very moment, was devouring your body so majestically. Your body was overwhelmed by the pleasure and sensitivity the damn prince was giving you. — It was no surprise that Aemond had absolute power over your body.

No words dared come out of your mouth, just whimpers and little moans. You couldn't say anything because you were clouded with pleasure by that man who grabbed your two legs in a hungry and strong way. — Aemond's hands were squeezing yours thighs to the point where his fingertips were white as his hair.

And you knew that later his fingerprints would be fixed in that region.

With Aemond's strength squeezing and pushing your legs, your back was being pressed against the soft headboard of the bed. The lower wood of that material was starting to sting that part of your body but you weren't caring about that. — The only thing you cared about was your beloved lover.

Completely undressed, your body was exposed only to the one-eyed prince. Every region marked by bites and hickeys and licks by Aemond's thin, protruding mouth. — And he was so proud of it.

"My little niece." — Aemond leaned down to your swollen, reddened breasts, so sensitive, and directed his mouth to one of his. They needed that man's attention, just like you. That spot was too delicate for you, and after the moments of making out and biting around the area they were more delicate and sensitive than ever.

Fully feeling the rush of pleasure, you tilt your head back. Your eyes were closed trying to control the feeling of arousal and delight coursing through your body. — Aemond was sucking your breast hard and slowly, and when your nipple was against the roof of his mouth, you definitely let out loud moans along with your teary eyes.

Your hands immediately found his hair and soon, your fingers curl into the older man's white strands, pulling and tilting his face closer to you. A ridiculous smile tugged at Aemond's lips, as you panted with pleasure, you felt it against your chest. — Your damn uncle was making fun of you while making you delirious.

Aemond bit, sucked and licked your nipple being reciprocated with you begging for him with your voice utterly weak and moans loud enough to dent his ego and want everyone in that castle to know that you belong to him.

Aemond withdrew a hand from your thigh, and directed it to your other nipple, also in need of attention; squeezing and giving a brief massage. The action made the tears, which had previously threatened to fall from your face, spill out. — Aemond's fingers were squeezing the nipple hard, rubbing it quickly.

Aemond loved to see you shiver and not control the spasms you suffered from his touches on your body.

"Aemond, please." — You desperately begged for the eldest. Your hands, which were still in his hair, withdrew and quickly tried to push his one-eyed face against your extremely delicate and aching chest. — You were too weak to push his face, so it was soon a failure.

A strong and intense suck was given to your nipple, as a form of punishment for trying to remove the prince from his sacred place. A wave of bites began to dominate that part of the body.

A click of his tongue echoes through the room, Aemond withdraws his mouth from your sore, swollen chest; a thin thread of spit remained connected from his lips to the sensitive region. — Your heavy eyes began to admire the older man's mouth, which was not only swollen but also extremely red and fascinating.

"Then the dragon returned your fucking tongue, hm?" — Aemond bent his head to your, approaching slowly. He wanted to admire how desperate and sensitive you were, and to know you were that way because of him; made Aemond even hungrier for you.

As he approached, Aemond's lips trailed over your hot cheek and in a flushed hue, you were embarrassed. The wet, warm feeling crossed that part of your face, it felt so good. — Small kisses were implanted by Aemond through your jaw, showing a little affection and a delicate attention to you. — They were kisses so sweet and soft that they even tickled you.

Your hands traveled again to the older man's hair but this time making a slow caress, following the path to his neck.

The heat of his mouth, the thinness of his lips, the long feel of his tongue were like heaven to you. The traces of small kisses left you completely desperate for more.

"I'm your dragon." — Aemond whispers during the kisses. Passing over your jaw, Aemond's lips passed over your chin and almost came close to your lovely lips that begged for the prince's attention. — "And i will always be your dragon."

Immediately, Aemond brings his lips to yours, and you let out a small, whiny moan against his lips. — It was pure sensitivity and excitement to have felt those lips. — That little muffled sound was a sacred thing to Aemond. A thing made by the gods that was meant for him.

Your tongues were dancing sexually against each other, as if you were fighting for dominance. Aemond explored every corner of your mouth as if for the first time, memorizing every part of her. — That kiss was fiery, igniting an intense flame in both of you.

Your mouth fit perfectly with Aemond's. — As if you were combination pieces, and you two were.

The frantic kiss was broken by the lack of breath from both of you, and several weak gasps escaped your mouths. — But that didn't mean you two were tired, on the contrary.

"And i will always devour you." — Aemond's breathy voice passed through your ears, making you hold your breath trying to assimilate what your beloved uncle had told you.

[book--brackets]

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine (2001)

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys. 

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn by Tad Williams (1988-1992)

A war fueled by the powers of dark sorcery is about to engulf the peaceful land of Osten Ard—for Prester John, the High King, lies dying. And with his death, the Storm King, the undead ruler of the elf-like Sithi, seizes the chance to regain his lost realm through a pact with the newly ascended king. Knowing the consequences of this bargain, the king’s younger brother joins with a small, scattered group of scholars, the League of the Scroll, to confront the true danger threatening Osten Ard.

Simon, a kitchen boy from the royal castle unknowingly apprenticed to a member of this League, will be sent on a quest that offers the only hope of salvation, a deadly riddle concerning long-lost swords of power. Compelled by fate and perilous magics, he must leave the only home he’s ever known and face enemies more terrifying than Osten Ard has ever seen, even as the land itself begins to die.

Starbound by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner (2013-2015)

It's a night like any other on board the Icarus. Then, catastrophe strikes: the massive luxury spaceliner is yanked out of hyperspace and plummets into the nearest planet. Lilac LaRoux and Tarver Merendsen survive. And they seem to be alone. 

Lilac is the daughter of the richest man in the universe. Tarver comes from nothing, a young war hero who learned long ago that girls like Lilac are more trouble than they're worth. But with only each other to rely on, Lilac and Tarver must work together, making a tortuous journey across the eerie, deserted terrain to seek help. 

Then, against all odds, Lilac and Tarver find a strange blessing in the tragedy that has thrown them into each other's arms. Without the hope of a future together in their own world, they begin to wonder-would they be better off staying here forever? 

Everything changes when they uncover the truth behind the chilling whispers that haunt their every step. Lilac and Tarver may find a way off this planet. But they won't be the same people who landed on it.

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy (2004-2024)

Meet the great Skulduggery Pleasant: wise-cracking detective, powerful magician, master of dirty tricks and burglary (in the name of the greater good, of course). Oh yeah. And dead.

Then there's his sidekick, Stephanie. She's… well, she's a twelve-year-old girl. With a pair like this on the case, evil had better watch out…

Stephanie's uncle Gordon is a writer of horror fiction. But when he dies and leaves her his estate, Stephanie learns that while he may have written horror, it certainly wasn't fiction. Pursued by evil forces intent on recovering a mysterious key, Stephanie finds help from an unusual source – the wisecracking skeleton of a dead wizard.

When all hell breaks loose, it's lucky for Skulduggery that he's already dead. Though he's about to discover that being a skeleton doesn't stop you from being tortured, if the torturer is determined enough. And if there's anything Skulduggery hates, it's torture… Will evil win the day? Will Stephanie and Skulduggery stop bickering long enough to stop it? One thing's for sure: evil won't know what's hit it.

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine (2006)

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to be pretty . . .

Aza's singing is the fairest in all the land, and the most unusual. She can throw her voice so it seems to come from anywhere. But singing is only one of the two qualities prized in the Kingdom of Ayortha. Aza doesn't possess the other: beauty. Not even close. She's hidden in the shadows in her parents' inn, but when she becomes lady-in-waiting to the new queen, she has to step into the light--especially when the queen demands a dangerous favor. A magic mirror, a charming prince, a jealous queen, palace intrigue, and an injured king twine into a maze that Aza must penetrate to save herself and her beloved kingdom.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce (2003-2004)

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods. This is the first of two books featuring Alianne.

Monstress by Marjorie M. Liu (2015-present)

Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers.

Lockwood & Co by Jonathan Stroud (2013-2017)

When the dead come back to haunt the living, Lockwood & Co. step in . . .

For more than fifty years, the country has been affected by a horrifying epidemic of ghosts. A number of Psychic Investigations Agencies have sprung up to destroy the dangerous apparitions.

Lucy Carlyle, a talented young agent, arrives in London hoping for a notable career. Instead she finds herself joining the smallest, most ramshackle agency in the city, run by the charismatic Anthony Lockwood. When one of their cases goes horribly wrong, Lockwood & Co. have one last chance of redemption. Unfortunately this involves spending the night in one of the most haunted houses in England, and trying to escape alive.

Protector of the Small by Tamora Pierce (1999-2002)

Keladry of Mindelan is the first girl who dares to take advantage of a new rule in Tortall—one that allows females to train for knighthood. After years in the Yamani Islands, she knows that women can be warriors, and now that she’s returned home, Kel is determined to achieve her goal. She believes she is ready for the traditional hazing and grueling schedule of a page. But standing in Kel’s way is Lord Wyldon. The training master is dead set against girls becoming knights. He says she must pass a one-year trial that no male page has ever had to endure. It’s just one more way to separate Kel from her fellow trainees. But she is not to be underestimated. She will fight to succeed, even when the test is unfair.

Falling Kingdoms by Morgan Rhodes (2012-2018)

Princess Cleo of Mytica confronts violence for the first time in her life when a shocking murder sets her kingdom on a path to collapse. Once a privileged royal, Cleo must now summon the strength to survive in this new world and fight for her rightful place as Queen. 

 The King of Limeros's son, Magnus, must plan each footstep with shrewd, sharp guile if he is to earn his powerful father's trust, while his sister, Lucia, discovers a terrifying secret about her heritage that will change everything. 

 Rebellious Jonas lashes out against the forces of oppression that have kept his country cruelly impoverished--and finds himself the leader of a people's revolution centuries in the making. 

 Witches, if found, are put to death, and Watchers, immortal beings who take the shape of hawks to visit the human world, have been almost entirely forgotten. A vicious power struggle quickly escalates to war, and these four young people collide against each other and the rise of elementia, the magic that can topple kingdoms and crown a ruler in the same day.

[billskeis]

Can you do 2023-2024 bill Kaulitz with thirteen year old daughter reader with ADHD headcannons and has similar personality to Rory keaner from Mbav and Richie Tozier from IT 2017 and she's very very sassy and hyper and can roast people + humbles people like how north west does to Kim K + how the uncles (Tom,Georg and Gustav) would react to her

ᡣ𐭩 bill w teen daughter p2

headcannons down below!

bill might have to keep a leash on you at all times when the two of you are going out because you can’t ever seem to stay in one place at a time

“y/n, what do you think of— Y/N!?”

found you looking at fucking trinkets. more importantly, MARBLES.

you always keep your dad in check, but he will sass you right back

“baby what do you think of the blonde?” “i think you look ugly.” “well you look like your OTHER father/mother, HIDEOUS.” “hey, you choose them, not me” “…”

literally has to bribe you to do anything for him, even if it involves your own benefit.

“y/n, can you get me my wallet i’m ordering take-out” “nuh-uh” “y/n, my wallet.” “make me.” “honey, i’m literally feeding you. “food!?”

you constantly make fun of bill, but when push comes to shove you will stand up for him if necessary.

you and uncle georg are quite literally neck and neck with each other.

“y/n, you stink, go take a shower,” “i bet your mom doesn’t think so uncle georg!!!”

with uncle tom, it’s even worse.

“y/n, can you tell uncle tom which one will look better, the blue blouse or the black blazer?” “either one will make you look fucking hideous” “y/n!! language!!” “sorry dad..”

you made tom cry btw

you and uncle gustav are chill. tom and georg don’t understand, bill doesn’t either. but you and gustav have this connection.

“what’s up y/n!” “hi uncle gustav” “i don’t know how he’s doing that..” tom scoffs, “it’s definitely voodoo magic, has to be,” georg ponders what a cornball

bill cannot put you to bed, so he just puts up with it.

let it be pillow fights, movie marathons, and food feasting, you name it.

you’re pretty open with bill when it comes to the concepts of relationships. although you may be young, he doesn’t stop you from experience life as it is.

when you spot someone of interest, it is your immediate and number one goal to make them yours.

“dad, i can’t go inside.. it’s filled with weir—” target spotted. “i want that one.” “but baby you don’t even know their na—” “i don’t give a SHIT dad i want that one.”

he got distracted for a second and lost you, again.