#mixed race witch

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 8

A/N: So sorry this chapter is coming so late into January. I hope everyone is doing well. Let's get this chapter rolling!

Summary: Love comes with many sacrifices.

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Chapter 8

He’s up all night as if consumed by grief all over again.

Adrian is familiar with the feeling, the ache within his chest, which devours him whole.

It stings in his body and mind when he rises with the sun, clouded and forgetting the previous night’s memories. He tells himself he will never be vulnerable with another, over and over, but his time spent with you draws that closeness he needs. He was craving more and more of your closeness and it grew easier and easier to feel it with you.

He was sure that if the consumption of wine continued, he would’ve done something he regretted, unravelling all the work to form an attachment and friendship that took so long to create.

It was the wine, he told himself. It causes anyone to do stupid things.

But it’s not the wine, he knows it. He knows it’s an excuse – a poor one to use when facing something far more lethal than a friendship on the line. He knew it had to be wrong, to put you in a position that made you downright uncomfortable, and the soft touches the two of you shared brought him far bigger feelings than he’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t far from trusting someone anyone, he knew it was something that could’ve been done long ago to betray him. And despite it, Adrian fears it could come any day, no matter how much his emotions grow.

He feels like a boy with a childish crush, not fully understanding the entire complexity of it all. It feels far more real than a simple crush: Adrian yearns for it, begs for its stay, to flourish and build into something much more. It’s a desire, a wish to anyone who would listen.

No, it would never happen. He told himself over and over again, cold in the bed as if there had been another beside him. It was far different to that fateful night, and the ghost of arms around him felt more tender than they had ever been. She is my friend, my closest friend.

Adrian had never felt colder.

When the sun reached his eyes, he squinted, as if its heat would finally put him out and catch him ablaze. Anything to end my misery. He wondered if more wine had been left, but it would’ve started a routine he dared not start again. Not with you around.

He said he would never return to that, not when you stayed.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered into the chill of the air, awareness hitting him like a blow to the face. If he was truly wanting to remain sober for you, something was deathly wrong. “I truly am becoming a Belmont.”

He rises with the rest of the day, telling himself he will apologise if you’re still stiff with him, but he will continue as if all the previous days had been the same. Nothing to hide, except for muddled emotions.

It’s the reminder to himself when he looked over the fireplace mantel, sitting cosy above with its pretty dark curls he made by uncoiling dark thread, and brown buttons for eyes, the skin tone as close to yours as possible, that he cannot have you finding this of all things.

-

“Are you ready?”

You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.

Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.

“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”

“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”

You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”

“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”

“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”

“Luna?”

His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”

“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”

“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.

“Shall we get going?”

“Indeed.”

It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.

 Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.

“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.

The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.

Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.

With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.

It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?

You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”

Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”

“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”

Be safe.

It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.

You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.

An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.

If only I had enough money.

“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”

“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”

“Husband?”

“There you are.”

The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”

He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.

“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”

“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”

Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”

Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?

“Turn round for me?”

You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.

You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.

 “It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.

-

It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.

Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.

Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.

“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”

Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.

“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.

You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.

You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”

You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.

“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.

It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.

They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.

Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.

“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.

Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.

The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.

His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.

He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.

A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.

Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.

Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.

Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.

You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.

Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.

You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.

They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.

Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”

Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”

-

Adrian's POV

Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.

The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.

All in the name of love.

He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.

He is his father's son after all.

Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.

“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.

His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.

A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.

No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.

He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.

You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.

 “Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”

His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!

“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”

“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”

He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”

Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.

There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.

The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.

With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:

“Ardeo!”

It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.

The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.

The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.

The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.

Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.

Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.

“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.

You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.

He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.

“No... thank you.”

-

Latin Translation:

Ardeo - (I) burn

[sandygarnelle]

Posting them again

[thepomegranatewitch]

chag sameach and happy chuseok!

This year, for the first time ever, I built a sukkah. It was tough. I'm not going to lie, even doing it on the cheap it was expensive. There was a lot of hot, hard work.

But I am so, so proud of myself.

I put in the effort to make sure my kids have access to both of their cultures through me, and then I got a shady hut to sit in this last week. I also am making sure to be visibly, loudly, publicly all my selves, so another queer, neurodivergent, mixed race Asian Jew out there knows they aren't the only one.

For those who don't know, Sukkot is a Jewish harvest-time festival celebrating the harvest with some ancestor veneration. It's not a big deal holiday anymore, but it was one of the three pilgrimage festivals during Temple times. I've seen lovely photos of streets in eretz yisrael lined with many sukkot. Chuseok is a Korean harvest-time festival celebrating the harvest with some ancestor veneration. It's not such a big deal holiday anymore, but many people still use it as a time to travel and spend time with living relatives. I hear tell of planes and hotels being booked out for months and traffic being horrendous as people roadtrip to childhood or ancestral hometowns.

Here's some photos of mixed race Jewish Korean queer joy. If you follow the link at the bottom, you can watch the video with voiceover on my instagram. (I could download the video, but because I added the theme from Practical Magic behind my words instagram wouldn't let me download my own voice.)

Come with me and enjoy!

Image description: a light skinned mixed race person with dark hair and eyes, large dark green glasses, a white kerchief, and a light blue jeogori with dark blue collar and cuffs and white dongjeong smiles at the camera, gesturing with one hand upwards and back to the grass fence sukkah wall behind them.

Image description: building the sukkah. A series of five shots, the first two with the person described above wearing a long sleeve green tee and a striped buff straw sunhat on a cloudless sunny day. They use white cotton twine to stitch reed fencing to a metal pop up tent frame, with the top lowered to waist height. The third shot, without people, shows the roof completed and raised to useable height, with flowering bougainvillea and white oleander in the background against a cloudless blue sky. The fourth shot shows the sukkah with walls and an orange outdoor extension cord going into the sukkah. The top has more schach of flowering bougainvillea, pyracantha with orange berries, and an olive-like ornamental covering the roof under the metal frame point. The last shot, at night, shows the interior of the sukkah with a round outdoor table and four patio chairs with cushions inside. Sandbags hold the corners of the sukkah, and a large blue tapestry with a combined sun and moon is pinned to the back wall. Outdoor lights are strung so the sukkah interior glows brightly against the dark night.

Making songpyeon! Songpyeon are as important to Chuseok as a hanukkiah is to Xanike or a seder is to Pesach. They are two to three bite rice cakes traditionally stuffed with sesame seeds, pine nuts, beans, or chestnuts, mixed with honey. They are steamed on pine needles to make a sweet, earthy, chewy treat. I wanted to buy them, but nowhere locally sells them. The white and purple are from our first batch, and the decorated green and purple are from batches six and seven. We had seven batches in 48 hours, and I am grateful my preschooler has been getting plenty of playdough time at school - they were really good at making songpyeon!

A note on togetherness: it is traditional to make songpyeon at home together. I have many memories of the work and stress that went in to pulling off picture-perfect holidays, and while the photographed objects are perfect, the smiles never reach our eyes. I committed to making ugly art and focusing my energy on enjoying time with my four and one year old. I want their foundational memories to be enjoying time together, not me screaming at them to make perfect edible art. It was only on the last batch, when we had an empty afternoon stretching out before us, that we tried some more beautiful candies. I think they turned out great.

The white are plain, the purple is made with blueberry juice, and the green with green tea powder. We stuffed ours with a mix of honeyed pine nuts, honeyed white sesame seeds, and honeyed black sesame seeds. We also made a batch tinted rosy brown with beetroot powder.

Image description. Set of seven photos showing songpyeon being made. The first three show a plate with measured but unstuffed pieces, shaped pieces, and the same person as above in a black shirt, black apron, and teal tichel using a spoon to stuff a white songpyeon with sesame seeds. These all sit on a table with a large print of orange fruits, leaves, and flowers. The songpyeon are white and purple. Below that is a set of four images with green and purple songpyeon decorated with purple and green flowers to leaves. They are simple in design. The first two show the paler, uncooked pieces sitting on cloth liners and pine needles in a bamboo steamer basket on the table, and the last two are steamy shots showing the cooked pieces, now darker, still in the steamer basket in the pot on the stove.

Some shots of the sukkah just before the triple holiday started: Chuseok, Sukkot, and Shabbat. After all the work I did (plus baking our challah), we got takeout for dinner.

Our lulav is not standard. We don't have an etrog, but a very special lemon our friends grew and gifted us the harvesting thereof. The palm came from our home, and the willow from our friends,' but instead of myrtle I opted for redwood branches (also from our friends' home). These are similarly fragrant, grow in sets of three, and were foragable by me and the baby close to home. I believe there is a balance to be found between traditional observance, and localized observance. It's not right for everyone, but it is right for me and my family.

The table with with shabbat candlesticks and food is our jesa table. Jesa is an ancestor veneration ceremony in which food and bows are offered to the ancestors. They consume the energy from the food, and leave their blessings behind. When we consume the food, we receive the blessings. For more on traditional Korean practices, I recommend popping over to instagram to follow Mudang Mia, Mudang Jenn (who has a free digital magazine), and Mudang Seo Choi (who regularly has kickstarters for books!).

Image description. Four shots of the sukkah interior, showcasing the food. First shot shows a table set for two adults and two children, with printed homemade colouring books at each child's place setting, The table has a blue tablecloth, three takeout boxes of food, a takeout container of fried rice, a small floral arrangement, a challah wrapped in a red and gold cover with bees woven in, a bottle of de-alcoholized red wine, a bottle of pomegranate juice, a large jar of lemon water, and takeout containers for soup. The second shot is the same set but pulled back and showing the whole interior so the lulav table relative to eating table is visible. The third shot is a very narrow table with a blue cloth printed with smiling white suns on it. It has two glass shabbat candlesticks, a package of beeswax candles, a stack of five coconut jellies, chopsticks, and a plate with homemade songpyeon in white, rosy brown, and purple, white mochi with red bean paste, and three cylindrical puffed rice snacks. The fourth shot is of the lemon and lulav bundle as described above. The lulav is wrapped and tied with white cotton twine.

Bonus: the video I made, with voiceover available on instagram.

You aren't alone.

moadim l'simcha.

Image description: a twig with flowering pomegranate in various stages for seven buds and blossoms total. It has a large white circle behind. Collaged on top are three rounds of moon cycles, spiraling in towards the center in black.

[paaxindigenouswitchcraft]

Indigenous witches

We indigenous have no demarcation between the physical and the spiritual world.

It's about unity with nature.

We are not separate from the world.

We are the world...and all things in it.

Miracles, magic, healing, conjuring of spirits...this is witchcraft.

And these have remained an integral part of our culture even up to the present day.

[didderd]

i rly need to dump my ocs on this blog..

artfight's coming up in just over a month, so i may have to pump out some ref sheets anyways.

huhu. get ready for some info dumping within the next month

[theblasianwitch]

Me, an Asian Jamaican parent: *mixes leftover tea from the pot with Ting (a grapefruit based soda)* Tea Ting, Ting Tea, Tea Ti-Tea Te Ting, Tao Te Ting

[americanmoths]

is there anything worse than good art with lukewarm liberal politics

this is a subtweet of the american theatre

[lunaplush]

A fun day .....did a boudoir photo shoot (hopefully gonna relaunch my OF soon so stay tuned ) it was a billion degrees out today so I rocked my natural hair instead of my typical wigs or fake ponytails and I experimented a little with it. 🖤🖤🖤

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Be Kind

The Bruises On Your Ego Make You Go Wild (1)

Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You looked up to the Scarlet Witch, but what happens when you finally get the chance to learn from her?

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, W refers to herself as Mommy, pet names (little one, pet), SW is abusive towards R, W takes care of R.

A/N: I mean if I was R.....I'd do it. I was in fact listening to Be Kind by Halsey on repeat while writing this.

In a secluded corner of the mystical realm, where the lines between reality and magic blur, the Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff, stood amidst swirling energies, her presence commanding and potent. It was there that she encountered a young woman, whose devotion to her was fervent and unwavering.

"T-the Scarlet Witch." You stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you beheld your idol in the flesh.

Wanda turned her gaze towards the diminutive figure before her, her expression unreadable. "Who might you be, little one?" Her tone held a hint of icy detachment, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Y/N...Y/L/N..." You managed to utter her name, your hair cascading around your face like a veil as you stood in awe before the legendary sorceress.

"What is it that you seek?" Wanda inquired, her crimson eyes piercing into your soul as she took a step closer.

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat. "Y-you...My Goddess," You confessed, your voice trembling with reverence.

"Goddess?" Wanda's curiosity was piqued as she regarded the young woman before her.

"Yes. You are a Goddess to me, the power you wield...it's unimaginable for someone like me," You confessed, your eyes shimmering with adoration. "I know I'll never be anywhere close to you, but I would love to be beneath you. Learn from you. Have you tell me exactly what to do and how to do it."

"Why?" Wanda's question hung in the air, demanding an answer.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you spoke your truth. "Making Doms feel powerful is my favorite thing to do. You SHOULD feel like a fucking Goddess when I'm worshipping your feet and praying at your altar. I want the powertrip of you owning me to ruin your life so you can never accept anything less than being treated like royalty."

"Beneath me is right where you belong pet." She's right up against you, hand around your neck squeezing ever so slightly, just enough to make you fuzzy.

Your heart raced as the Scarlet Witch loomed over you, her presence both intimidating and intoxicating. Despite the fear coursing through your veins, there was an undeniable thrill at being in the presence of your idol.

"I-I'm yours," You stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Completely and utterly."

The Scarlet Witch's grip tightened, and Harley's breath caught in her throat. But it wasn't fear that consumed her; it was a heady mix of desire and devotion.

"Good," the Scarlet Witch murmured, her tone sending shivers down your spine. "You will serve me well, little one."

With those words, you knew your life would never be the same. You had found your purpose, your goddess, and you would follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond.

With a flick of her wrist a portal opened, "You will always stay a step behind me. Never beside me and absolutely never in front of me." You nod and she grips you a little tighter, your breath catching. "Words." She demanded.

"Yes My Goddess." She smiled, letting you go as you fell to your ass, gasping for air.

"Let's go. Now." She commanded. Heart pounding, scrambling to your feet, your body trembling with anticipation and excitement. You followed the Scarlet Witch through the portal, your mind swirling with a mixture of fear and adoration.

As you stepped through to the other side, you felt a surge of power coursing through your veins. You were no longer just a mere mortal; you were a disciple of the Scarlet Witch, ready to do whatever it took to prove your loyalty.

With each step you took behind your goddess, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be. And as you vanished into the unknown, you vowed to never stray from her side, forever bound to serve the one who held your heart and soul in her hands.

As you delved deeper into your role as a disciple of the Scarlet Witch, you found yourself immersed in a world of rules and rituals. Each day brought new lessons, new challenges, and new opportunities to prove your devotion.

You learned to always stay a step behind your Goddess, never daring to step out of line. Pets weren't allowed on furniture, a rule that you quickly adapted to, finding comfort in your place at your Goddess’ feet.

Touching was strictly forbidden unless granted explicit permission, a lesson you learned the hard way more than once, but each reprimand only fueled your desire to please your Goddess even more.

And then there was the rule of silence, a constant reminder to only speak when spoken to and to always address the Scarlet Witch as "My Goddess." It was a rule you followed religiously, your words carefully chosen and spoken with reverence.

But amidst the strict guidelines and rigid structure, there was magic. The Scarlet Witch shared her knowledge with you, teaching you the ways of the arcane arts as the two of you went about your days. And as you found yourself clad in nothing but the barest of clothes, you knew that your Goddess held the ultimate power over you, both body and soul.

As you unleashed your blue light magic, a palpable energy filled the air. The Scarlet Witch observed with a wicked smile, recognizing the potential within her devoted disciple.

"Oh, I'm going to have to corrupt my pet much more in order to train you properly," the Scarlet Witch declared, her voice carrying a husky tone that sent shivers down your spine.

Your eyes sparkled with a mix of fear and anticipation. "Yes, My Goddess. Do with me what you must," you responded, a fervent willingness in your voice.

In that moment, the Scarlet Witch saw not just a follower, but a canvas upon which she could weave her magic and desires. The journey of corruption and training had only just begun, and you willingly surrendered yourself to the whims of your Goddess, ready to be molded into something both powerful and utterly devoted.

You were doing your normal chores around the house for your Goddess as she spent time in her room meditating. Laundry, cleaning up the various rooms of the house, and of course cooking dinner for your Goddess. You hum a tune, moving your hips to the imaginary tune in your head, so focused on your task that you don't hear her come into the kitchen until you’re suddenly pushed against the counter. "Who told you that you could have fun while doing your chores?" She growled at you.

Startled, you froze as the Scarlet Witch pushed you against the counter, your heart pounding in her chest. The playful hum died on your lips as you looked up at your Goddess, your eyes wide with surprise.

"I-I'm sorry, My Goddess," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I was just... lost in my thoughts."

The Scarlet Witch's gaze bore into you, a mixture of irritation and amusement flickering in her eyes. "Lost in your thoughts, hmm?" she mused, her voice low and dangerous. "You forget your place, little one. Your only purpose is to serve me, not to have fun."

Your heart sank as you realized your mistake. You had let your guard down, allowed yourself a moment of pleasure amidst your duties. It was a mistake you wouldn't make again.

"I-I understand, My Goddess," you replied, your voice tinged with remorse. "It won't happen again."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, the Scarlet Witch released her hold on you, allowing you to straighten up. As you resumed your chores with renewed focus, you vowed to never forget your place again, determined to be the perfect servant for you goddess's every whim.

After getting your Goddess' meal together you stayed curled up next to her on the floor silently while she ate. You didn't want to upset her anymore, but as she finished up, throwing away what she didn't eat instead of giving it to you a small whine came up your throat. She ignored the noise as she grabbed your bowl from the floor and grabbing last night's left overs throwing them into your bowl without reheating it in anyway, setting it back down.

"Eat pet." Another whine, you hate cold food. "Now or you can starve tonight." you didn't want to loose your food privileges. With a heavy heart, you obediently began to eat the cold food, each bite a reminder of your place in the hierarchy of your relationship. "There we go pet."

As you ate, the Scarlet Witch cleaned up the remnants of her own meal, her movements precise and efficient. You watched her, a mixture of admiration and longing swirling within you.

Once you finished your meager meal, you lowered your gaze, feeling the weight of your goddess's presence beside you. You knew you had disappointed her, and the thought pained you more than you cared to admit.

But as you sat there, bowl empty and stomach still grumbling, you vowed to do better. You would serve your Goddess with unwavering devotion, no matter the cost. For in the end, you knew that your goddess's approval was all that truly mattered.

"Come on pet. Living room. Time for some rest " You went to get up, but she pushed you back down, "Bad pets crawl." Another whine pushes through you as you felt your knees throb.

"Yes My Goddess. I'm sorry My Goddess."

You obediently crawled behind your Goddess, your knees aching with each movement. You suppressed another whine, knowing that any sign of defiance would only earn you further punishment.

Settling at the Scarlet Witch's feet, you shivered as a draft swept through the room, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. But you dared not complain, instead curling up tighter in an attempt to ward off the chill.

As the Scarlet Witch relaxed on the couch, book in hand and music filling the air, you remained at her feet, your gaze fixed on your Goddess with unwavering devotion. Despite the discomfort and the ache in your limbs, there was nowhere else you would rather be.

For in that moment, with your Goddess by your side, you felt a sense of belonging unlike anything you had ever known. And as you drifted off to sleep, curled up at the feet of your beloved Goddess, you knew that you would follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond.

You fell asleep at The Scarlet Witch's feet and for a moment the Scarlet Witch wasn't that she was Wanda. The soft caring Sokovian that only poked through in small moments. Looking down at you Wanda couldn't help, but smile. She noticed the goosebumps and the shiver that wracked you as she grabbed a blanket, throwing it over you. Wanda watched as the young girl curled up with the blanket, a smile on your lips.

As Wanda's soft, caring side emerged, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and tenderness towards you, the young girl who had devoted herself so completely to her.

"I do love being your Goddess," Wanda whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection. "But maybe we can have more moments like this sometime when you're awake."

Leaning down, Wanda ran her fingers through your hair, savoring the fleeting moment of intimacy. For a brief instant, she allowed herself to revel in the bond you shared, the connection that went beyond the roles of Goddess and disciple.

But as quickly as the moment had come, the Scarlet Witch reclaimed control, her expression hardening once more. With a final glance at you, she rose from the couch, leaving you to your dreams.

As Wanda disappeared into the shadows, a part of her held onto the hope that perhaps, someday, they could have more moments like this, where the lines blurred, and they could simply be two souls finding solace in each other's presence.

As you woke up with the comforting warmth of the blanket draped over you, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between yourself and the Scarlet Witch. Gone was the brief glimpse of Wanda's softer side, replaced instead by a harsher, more unforgiving demeanor.

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself facing increasingly harsh punishments for even the slightest slip-up. The Scarlet Witch's reprimands grew sharper, her punishments more severe, leaving you constantly sore and bruised from the onslaught of red magic.

Confusion and frustration gnawed at your mind as you struggled to understand the sudden change in your Goddess’ behavior. What had you done to deserve such harsh treatment? Why had the kindness you had glimpsed before been replaced by cruelty?

But try as you might, you couldn't find the answers you sought. All you could do was endure the pain and punishment, clinging to the hope that someday, the Scarlet Witch's wrath would relent, and you would once again know the gentleness you had experienced that one fleeting moment with the blanket.

One day it happened, you cracked and just started crying, you weren’t even being punished you were just thinking way to much.

"I...don’t...understand. why...why is it only punishments? Why can't I do anything right anymore? I'm sorry I'm not good enough. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..." As your tears flowed freely, your heart heavy with sorrow and confusion, you felt a presence beside you, a warmth enveloping your trembling form. You looked up through blurred vision to see Wanda, her eyes soft and filled with compassion.

"It's okay, little one. It's okay, Mommy is here," Wanda murmured, her voice gentle and soothing. She gathered you into her arms, holding you close as she shushed away your tears.

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected term of endearment, "Mommy?" you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.

With a tender smile, Wanda nodded, her green eyes shining with love and affection. "That's right, little one. I'm your mommy," she confirmed, her fingers gently brushing away your tears.

A sense of warmth and safety washed over you as you nestled into Wanda's embrace, feeling a bond between them that went beyond disciple and Goddess. In that moment, you knew that you were loved, cherished, and protected.

"I'm sorry she's been so mean to you recently," Wanda apologized, her voice filled with regret. "But I won't let her keep hurting you like that. You've had enough. It's time for some nice play to take place."

With those words, Wanda wiped away the last of your tears, her touch a balm to your wounded soul. And as the two of you shared a tender moment together, you knew that you had found solace in the arms of Wanda, the Scarlet Witch's harshness melting away in the presence of Wanda's love.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 7

A/N: I feel like an ass for posting this one, surely I am cockblocking, but this slow-burning is here for a reason! Enjoy regardless! Mentions of anatomy and some language, Y/N gets drunk and nearly blurts all.

Summary: To be loved is to be changed.

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Chapter 7

In the day, Adrian was as glorious as the sun. At night, as beautiful and haunting as the moon and its glow.

In the month you had been in the castle, you had turned the once secluded castle into a living, existing place, for you and Adrian to simply ignore the rest of the world in. It had grown not to resemble a tattered and destroyed ruin, but instead, a place Adrian could call home once again.

Adrian himself had flourished in his skin once more: where you found him to take up hobbies when you were not with him. Before was once a man, lonely beyond an age before the age of twenty, losing his parents and closest allies, now, a man you could look upon with admiration and pride. He had grown out from his enclosed shell, opening his heart to a stranger, trusting you with his life unlike those who betrayed him.

It hurt more to know that this was your final day.

You feared for Adrian’s wellbeing, whether he would grow reclused after you left him, or would he rather thrive with your farewell?

You had grown recluse yourself from the Dhampir, finding closure in the fact that you would never look upon the face of Adrian ever again. Where could you go apart from as far out from Wallachia? Nowhere was safe for a girl like me. You told yourself when you wished you could explain to Adrian—though the words would always freeze on your tongue any time you tried bringing it up.

It seemed that Adrian had almost forgotten about the promise too, and you couldn’t help but feel guilt when he spoke of promises he wanted to do for you.

“I’ll show you one day the town nearby,” he said one night, curled up by the fire as he stared into its flames. “I know you’d like it. We could buy anything you’d like: spices, dresses, jewellery.”

He spoke of a future not just with him alone, but with you co-existing beside him, and it thrilled and destroyed you to know that this promise would crumple like sand.

The day came for you to leave, silently waking with dried tears still stinging your red eyes. You had spent all that night crying before you fell to sleep, dreaming of being with Adrian, laughter shared and memories to be made. You had even kissed him, your heart fluttering as he muttered words softly in your words that gave away he did not want you to go.

'Always and forever.' His words were soft and dying in the air when you faced the morning, and your lips could still feel his against yours, a dying dream never to be lived.

You tip-toed around to not wake Adrian, gathering anything you could and folding neatly the dresses you had been given to him. They were too lovely to be ruined and deserved to be in a place that could keep its beauty.

The only things you carried on you were the same dress you came to the castle in, rags that had been sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for the day you would have to wear them. The air grew heavy with a feeling of forlorn as you walked to find the kitchen, setting yourself by the counter and waiting for the person you dreaded to upset.

It was not long until you heard familiar footsteps drawing closer, familiar honey-blond locks coming into view as the man appeared. It snapped your heart in two to see the softness in his golden eyes as if you were better than the sun itself and you were his star. That all fell apart when his smile dropped, the uncertainty washing over his face when he saw the glumness on your face.

“Has something happened?” He did not waste two seconds stepping closer towards you, giving a small gap between the two but enough that you could be up close to him. In the four weeks, it had taken some time for Adrian to grow used to touch once again, always coiling away from your closeness, before he had taken the time to build trust and reciprocate first. "Y/N?"

He was quick to reach out to you first, extending for your arm as he pulled it towards him. He was warm to the touch, and you dared not want to look upon his concerned gaze without knowing you would blubber into a mess once again.

“You remember the promise, correct?” You lamented, watching for a moment as he took in your words carefully. It was as if everything poured through just from the question, and you could just about read every emotion visible in his eyes; melancholy, regret, grief.

“Where will you go?” His voice was quiet. Don’t go, it read in his eyes.

It didn’t dawn on you, no matter how many times you came to think of it. “Some place where it is warmer, perhaps east. But that means…” your voice cracked momentarily, “Wallachia will not be a home for me.”

“But how do you know?” His calmness cracked, and beneath you could see the grief-stricken man appear, though you did not think he would be holding concern for you of all people.

You didn’t want to answer his question, despite the unknowing questions that boiled, the silence was deafening, and it hammered in your chest like the chiming of a hammer.

“I will have to leave whilst there is still light,” you squeezed Adrian’s hand before it slipped from his, “Thank you for allowing me to use your library, and… to call you a dear friend.”

You didn’t know if that pained you more to call him a friend when your feelings had bloomed for him during your time there. A friend was the only thing you could call him: why would he want anything else with you? He’s immortal, he will have lovers come and go, but none will ever be you.

“Don’t,” he called to you when he stepped out of his reach, not expecting him to call you. Your name was a whisper on his tongue, hanging in the air as if he wished to say something more to you, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I would be overstaying here, Adrian.” You could feel tears slip from your face, but you braved not to look at him, even when you knew he was staring at you. “You said a month-”

“Please,” there it was. Pain in his voice in the way he pleaded, desperate and gentle that you didn’t think you’d see this side of him, “I don’t think… living within these walls would ever feel the same with you gone.”

He stepped out to you again.

Closer.

His hand gingerly found your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze, delicately wiping the tear collecting at the corner of your right eye. You were both silent, only staring at one another, and never did you think anyone would stare at you the way he did with you.

“You wish for me to stay?” Forever?

Your mother had told you what that feeling would be like, though she had been young and never knew the experience herself. Did Alucard’s parents experience the same when they first met?

That feeling grew within your chest, butterflies you couldn’t stop from feeling: the great emotion that one day would bless you in having. Why was it that the moment you had to leave was when it came?

‘People come and go,’ your mother told you one day when you asked about it, naïve and full of hope. ‘It hurts when it grows for those you care for.’

Yes, you understand now why it came at this moment and all the times before.

It hurt.

Love hurt when it was about to leave for the first and final time.

It was his smile, so gentle and warm, so inviting and bright – full like the sun and the beginning of spring – that you could not decline his offer.

“I would very much like that.”

-

Telling yourself you had gotten used to the castle was an understatement.

The rooms you were more familiar with were the ones you kept to, never straying that much to explore. You knew that there were many rooms even Adrian never went into, telling you that they held too many memories, either good or bad.

You were understanding, knowing how much the castle – his childhood home – could hold a lot of disturbance to what he went through. He told you one day that his childhood bedroom was off limits: it was after all, where he had killed his father. He mentioned it was a place too “dampened with gloom” that you knew something else had happened for him to keep that part of the castle off-limits.

It had only gotten the best of you when you told Adrian you were going to do some cleaning, leaving him as he cooked in the kitchen.

You sprinted with much glee and inquisitiveness: the endless hallways could lead you anywhere!

Roaming the halls, you remembered to stay away from the rooms you were not allowed to go to, including his old and current bedroom. It was quite easy to get lost, taking to the upper floors, where the light grew dimmer, more eerie.

The rooms as you found them didn’t hold much for you to be intrigued until you passed what was another room in another endless hallway, you spotted that this room had its door ajar.

This was certainly a room you had not been told of by Adrian.

Bravely, the room seemed to be more of an intrigue to you than any other room. Slowly peeling the door back, you stepped through.

The room is dimly lit, with a sense of sweet orange that lingers in the air. It’s his scent, sweet, alluring, inviting; just like what surrounds you. There are books of all assortments: astronomy, philosophy, ecology, history – to name a few. Knowledge spanning from decades to thousands of years back, of all cultures and dynasties long gone and remaining. Maps hung around the room, some of the entirety of Europe, the world and one finally above his desk of Wallachia.

It took longer to find literature, where you find poetry, prose, children’s stories and old fables. You’re shocked when you stumble across some romance novels, not expecting that to come from Adrian.

His desk is a display of many things: papers, books, and journals. You dare not look in his journals knowing his work is private, but something catches your gaze. Since when was Adrian into drawing?

You find one first that makes you pick it up, a sketch of his mother, only a fine-line sketch that is only shaded and not with much detail, but you recognise her from the portraits that decorate the castle.

Will you be needing a muse anytime soon? You think to yourself, jokingly. You knew it was rude to snoop, and knowing you had come across Adrian’s study, you knew you had the best chance to look around when he wasn’t there.

But when you find his sketchbook, all nosiness takes over.

The leather-bound book is beautifully decorated, with its pages filled to the brim from use. The beginning of the pages were those you recognised simply by objects that Adrian used for inspiration: a stag beetle shell, many plotted plants and flowers some you recognised from your mother’s herbs. You read the dates that dated back to almost a decade ago, impressed by his skill at such a young age.

The more you draw the pages further into the book, the older the dates get, and his practice grows. His inspirations change from objects to anatomy. You’re impressed by the way Adrian draws the human body so well. Some sketches of hands in different positions and poses, full body sketches of a mixture of men and women, some clothed and others nude.

You could feel your cheeks darken, and though it was surprising to see the natural state of the human body, art was still captivating in showing it, Adrian drew with a way of conveying vulnerability. His mother was a doctor after all.

Other pages were of human faces: more drawings of his mother and father. Another was of a different man and woman: the woman had short hair whilst the man had a scar over his right eye and a shadow of a wispy beard on his face. You now had a reference to Adrian’s friends and allies: Sypha and Trevor.

A Belmont, scholar and sleeping soldier, Adrian told you, all out for different clauses and paths but joined to meet on one path; to kill Dracula.

You had forgotten to make sure you were still alone and not spotted looking through his things when you reached the last few of the pages, recently used. Wait a minute. You had to do a double take, imagining you were seeing double. This isn’t… who I think it is.

Those eyes, were similar to you, not that you could remember where you had seen them last. It dawned on you quickly why they were a distant memory: they looked like your mother's eyes—but that was impossible if Adrian had never met or seen an image of her.

But, as if looking back through a mirror, a glimpse through time, those eyes weren’t just hers, but yours as well.

Oh. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you dared not drop the book to draw attention to where you were. You didn’t close it, despite feeling that this was intruding—it was too late for that now.

He had gotten your likeness in a way you didn’t think he could: as if you had been captured in a moment, ready to come back to life on the page. Another sketch of you, reclined with your nose in a book and laying in a way that could’ve been uncomfortable to anyone else. Another of you tying your hair back, the ribbon dangling in your mouth, eyes in heavy concentration. The final one took you by surprise: a moment where you were snuggled into the armchair, a blanket wrapped protectively around you to keep you warm.

Have I been so blinded this entire time? It seemed like this wasn’t right: did Alucard… fancy you? You scoffed, absolutely not, there was no way—though you the more you spiralled, the more it had you questioning everything.

You had been so preoccupied with what you had discovered, that you failed to suspect the presence behind you, someone standing just on the edge of the doorframe.

An awkward cough brought you back to your senses.

“Forgive me!” You stumbled, throwing the papers behind you to hide them behind your back, in hopes you were quick on your feet. You were clumsy, ineptly whipping back to look at the blond Dhampir standing just a few metres in the doorframe. “I did not hear you come in.”

Adrian was dressed simply in his shirt, trousers and boots as he did if the weather was not too cold. It was only a small subtle detail that his dark trousers were coated and dusted with a light cast of flour, as if he had nothing else to wipe but on them. His hair was also tied up, revealing his slender neck, wisps of blond tresses falling to frame his handsome angular features.

How long had he been waiting there for? You panicked, knowing that he could’ve used his speed to reach you, using his inhuman scent of smell or to pick up your heart rate to find you.

“Yes, well, you did seem rather… occupied.” Adrian teased, though his face was incomprehensible, his movements leisurely as he ambled into the room, inspecting if anything looked out of place.

Was he just as embarrassed as how you were feeling? Regardless if he was or not, he was very good at hiding it from you.

He stopped just to the side of his desk, eyes quickly scanning as he spotted the disarray of papers, his sketchbook ‘neatly’ placed back where it looked to have been before. He did not say anything about it, instead, resuming conversation as if nothing was out of place.

“I was asking if you were free to help me downstairs. I needed assistance in deciding which spices to add to the cakes.” He continued, watching the way you shuffled to block what you were putting back on the desk.

You were not subtle in the slightest but Adrian did not make any remark for you to be snooping, rather, he watched on in visible amusement. The refined look when he raised an eyebrow, the small smirk that made you even more flustered when you were caught.

“Okay, ready.” You gestured for him to walk in front, hanging back as you took a final glance back, wondering when Adrian started drawing you.

-

 It’s his idea when he decides the two of you should share a bottle of wine.

Though you think it’s not good to have the entire bottle, Adrian agrees upon a glass or two, sharing thoughts as the night grows dark with the creatures of the forest outside, and your worries melt for a moment on your tongue.

The wine is sweet, not though you like it, and it's hard to consume something that feels so foreign. Adrian drinks it as if it's water, and you struggle to keep up. You’re a lightweight after all, and though you’re slower, you can feel the haziness that crawls in your vision, and you swear you’re almost seeing double.

Your laughter is warmer, chatter easier, and you notice he’s closer beside you by the table when he first brings the bottle and glasses.

“This is nice,” his voice does not slur as he speaks, and you’re shocked just by how content he is in drinking glass after glass if he could. If perhaps you didn’t say anything, perhaps he would, “It’s been some time since I stopped drinking.”

“When did you stop?” You can feel a headache begin to dull your senses, and you’re feeling bolder.

Adrian seems hesitant when he looks back at you before he answers. “I stopped after a couple of days after your arrival.” He’s nervously swirling the glass in small circles on the table, a distraction. “I’m sure the smell of piss and blood wasn’t helping.”

You chortle, “No, it didn’t, but I don’t suppose I was any different. A girl smelling of chickens.”

“I did wonder why.” He says in a dry tone, but his eyes are sincere, and you find yourself staring periodically down at his lips, the glint of his sharp teeth some distraction from the wine.

“It seems funny when I say it now, but I used to have two, and they had names.”

Adrian seems surprised by this, that of all things to have named were chickens, but he coaxes you with a raised brow, intrigued, to say the least. “Tell me they had normal names.”

“Henrietta and Duchess.”

“Oh, my God,” Adrian laughs quietly, “Next you’ll say you had a pig called Duke and a horse called Lieutenant.”

“Well, the pig was called Truffle.”

“Seems almost cruel,” Adrian laughs at the idea, “I don’t think I was any different. I did have a stuffed wolf called Fluffy.”

“Hey, that’s cute though.”

You laugh at the idea, but you’re carrying a sad smile as you continue to sip slowly at your drink. “I loved those chickens. It was weird, but I treated them like humans rather than animals—livestock. They were much nicer than-” You stop yourself mid-sentence, unsure if you’re ready to continue.

Your stomach coils as if ready to lurch, for you to leap from your chair and leave to your room, but Adrian is calm and patient, running a soothing hand over yours to console you.

“Take your time,” he says with quiet empathy, and it’s enough to pull you back to reality. “I’m here.”

“After my mama’s death, I fled to the nearby town—I was on the streets for some time, hiding behind buildings and sometimes getting shelter from a sweet old lady, before I was old enough to sell myself as a servant to any passing man who needed my service.”

You felt sick to your stomach, and the wine was not helping. “I stayed in his service for almost a decade, serving his son and wife who was no older than me.” You confessed. “It all boiled down one day when I was fed up with the fucking treatment. I was beaten if I did something incorrect, slapped if I spoke when not spoken to, and something… snapped in me. I… hurt him when he hurt me.” You pushed the wine away from you, eyes welling with tears. “I wish I did more.”

“You survived,” Adrian said with a sad grimace, “You’re much braver than most I know.”

“I didn’t feel brave then,” you admitted. “I felt like a stupid little girl, not capable of anything.”

“Hey,” Adrian seems clumsy in giving close comfort, but he tried nonetheless, leaning closer to finally embrace you. He smelt of oranges and lavender, and you nearly broke down into his shoulder, “you’re the strongest person I know. The bravest witch.”

He seemed tongue-tied with his next words, eyes moving across your face as if he wished to say something that you yearned to hear. “I’m proud of you.” He finally said, but in your mind, it didn’t seem like it was what he wanted to say as if there was something he was holding back.

Was I overthinking? You thought as you pulled away from his embrace, so tempted to lean across the table and kiss him there and then, but you pulled enough restraint to not horrify the man. “Thank you, Adrian. I’m thankful I have you.” You finally said.

“I’m thankful too.” He confesses, quickly realising what he’s just said and the blush on his face is obvious as he tries to change the subject. “I will leave you to catch some sleep. I thought it would be a good idea to head into town tomorrow morning. Gather some more supplies. What do you say?”

You smile sadly, “That’s a good idea.” You’re on your feet fast enough as you say goodnight to one another before you’re speeding down the hallway to your room, wiping the tears that have not dried from your face.

When you reach your room, you slink against the inside of the door. Your head is hammering, vision is hazy. Damn for drinking so much. You groan, only listening to the crackling of the fire lit in your room, the soft luring sound of crisp pages of a book being shut as a lovely interference.

“Ah, there you are.” the voice that pulled you from your thoughts was the one thing you needed to hear, sweet as honey as the figure emerged to stand close by from where you stood. His soft locks are pulled back from his face, and he’s practically glowing in the soft ambers of your room, the fire gently burning to keep the warmth.

Your lips are pulled into a tired smile, which the Dhampir notices quickly enough to soothe you for a night of sleep. “You’re exhausted, my little witch.” He’s yanking you by your hand, directing you to your bed. “You need sleep before it comes for you first.”

“Was it so obvious?” You laugh dryly, and the lack of sleep is fast indeed; your eyes are heavy, limbs sluggish as your mind slows from the alcohol. “I can get myself to bed by myself, you know?”

“I don’t doubt you,” he scolds lightly, the way he moves you is more persistent. “Dreams help everything go away, isn’t that what your mother said?”

“Yes.” You drawl quietly, silent in watching Adrian move around you, sitting you delicately on the edge of the side of the bed. He is gentle in getting you settled for the night, removing your outer layers of clothing until you’re left in your chemise. There is nothing overtly sexual in the way he undresses you, more so there’s such a tenderness to his touches that it almost leaves you weeping.

When you’re ready, he follows, undressing until he stands in his nightgown. You watch as he goes to as he crawls onto the other side to lay there. Shutting his eyes, his light blond hair cascades around the pillow like a halo, his body silent and still as stone.

You’re staring for some time before he speaks up, aware even without having to open your eyes. “Are you going to watch me sleep or are you going to join me?” He cracks one eye open, full of mirth as he catches the exact moment your face brightens.

“Right.” You scootch over closer, lying stiffly beside him on your back, not daring to get any cosier before he stretches like a cat, catching you by surprise as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in close.

“You’re shaking like a leaf, little witch.” He jokes, humming as he rests his head into the crook of your neck. This is all so real, and you dare fear if you fall asleep, it’ll all be gone, a fading memory to die in the back of your mind. “Am I that cold?”

“No,” you finally relax in his hold, having turned to face him, a feeling you wish not to ever forget. “It feels nice.”

“I’m sure one thing could make you feel better,” his eyes are open, watching you almost hawkishly, scooting himself closer. “Though, I’d have to know what you think.”

“What is it?”

He doesn’t answer you directly, but his eyes tell you what you’ve been waiting for. It’s the way his gold eyes glance from your eyes down to your lips, way too slowly before coming back up to meet your flustered state.

Neither of you make the first move, your heart is hammering too fast that you can barely keep up with your racing thoughts. You know he can hear how fast it's pumping, thunderous and dreadful against your ribs. It feels like it could explode any second.

Should I wait for him to lean in? Or would it be better for me to meet him halfway? To see how he reacts.

With your mind racing, your body moves on its own, ignoring your many questions and moving with little patience. A hand finds his cheek, stroking his cheekbone in contemplation, soft to the touch that you gasp from just the exhilaration alone.

You’re not waiting for him when you’re leaning close to him, closer and closer until his face is inches from yours. Your noses bump as you catch the final moment where his eyes flutter shut as you’re copying, stretching over until your lips meet his.

You didn’t know how long you had been counting for this moment to happen. Drinking him in, he is the sun, and you are a secluded plant, waiting for his rays to keep you from shrivelling. His lips are soft, neither warm nor cool as your contact is chaste and quick, and all that is gone when you’re not chasing for more-

“No,” you rasp as you pull yourself from him, leaping up to sit on the edge of the bed. “This is wrong.”

“Oh?” He doesn’t seem dissatisfied or enraged, rather it seems more like a question. He is calm when he asks, voice a soft rumble. “Is it wrong because you wish to continue? Or because you wish to experience this with him?”

You slump in your spot, guilt overflowing your body like a wave, ready to drown. “It’s wrong because… I’m using him.” You hug yourself, ready to weep aloud from it all. “I’m using him for this twisted fantasy, just to feel happy.”

This fake version of Adrian is collected, reaching your side of the bed as he places a consoling hand on your shoulder. “Happy… that you want to imagine a future with him?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong to have?” You sigh exasperated. “I want him to be happy, but I fear… I will never give him that happiness.”

“He’s been through so much already.” You continue. “I think of him all the time: like how the sun can’t live without the moon.”

You’re completely consumed by Adrian: mind, body and soul and it aches that this crush will continue to remain as one. His acts of kindness have completely floored you, confusing you to the point that you were left over questioning every small act he did for you.

The night is long and you’re left distraught, conjuring a version of him that you hope can give you comfort. “What do I do?”

“Tell  him the truth.”

Your head snaps almost drastically to glare at the fake version, who simply looks just as perplexed as you. “I’m just a manifested form you created of him in your head whilst inebriated. I’m the wrong person you should be talking to.”

Sighing defeatedly, you look to him for security. “I’m… confused.”

“How so?”

“Well, I know he sees me as a friend, but he’s just so thoughtful. He carries me back to bed, and we spend all day together. I mean, he drew sketches of me for fuck’s sake—that’s saying something, isn’t it?”

“He seems lonely too.” ‘Adrian’ answers, but it’s a reasonable answer that could be what you’re looking for, regardless of how you’re feeling.

“I know, I know. He’s awkward, but it can’t just be out of friendship.”

“Tell him in the morning,” he says, “you can’t see for yourself if he’s quick to reciprocate your feelings for him. Perhaps then you’ll be able to cuddle something that’s flesh and bone.”

You chortle at his words, knowing how uncanny and realistic he is sitting beside you. “Can we just- can we just cuddle for the rest of the night? Just so I don’t feel so lonely.”

Alucard gives you a sorrowful smile, pulling you into a side embrace. “You realise I won’t be there by morning?”

It’s a sad realisation, but you come to accept it. “I know. I just… want to imagine feeling something for once.”

“Of course, my little witch,” he kisses your forehead lovingly, leading you both back down to lie on the bed. The bed doesn’t feel as big when you share it with another, now in the fond embrace of the Dhampir you conjured in your mind.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” He tells you all the right things you want to hear, the lull of sleep pulls you in deeper and deeper, his voice growing quieter. “I’m still here with you, no matter what.”

“I love you,” you slur as darkness consumes you, the heaviness of your body pulling you into a sleep you need. You don’t feel upset when you don’t hear a response, just the arms of his embrace.

By the time early morning comes, the other side of the bed is cold, and the ghost of Adrian’s arms remains.

It’s not just knowing that the person on the other side of the hallway would never know how you felt, but the sense that you could never go back to seeing him just as a dear friend.

-

A/N:

This was a long one to write, but I hope you enjoyed it!

[starkwlkr]

Is there coming a part 3, then maybe where Charles becomes worldchampion? And celebrates with his daugther Ruby and his wife yn?

cool dad | charles leclerc

more baby leclerc content!! manifesting this happens irl if not i will be jumping off the nearest cliff 😝🫶🏼

Ruby couldn’t contain her excitement. She danced around in the hotel room to music coming from her mom’s phone, Y/N making sure her phone was locked before leaving it around Ruby.

“And I am a material girl!” Ruby jumped in the bed as Y/N finished her makeup in the bathroom. Charles was already gone. He was nervous, anyone could tell. Today was the last race of the season, the race that would determine if by the end of the night he was going to be world champion.

“Mama! Play it again!” Ruby said as she continued jumping.

“Ruby Jules, did you find the dress you want to wear?” Y/N asked. Recently Ruby was going through that phase where she didn’t want either of her parents to dress her, she wanted to do it on her own. Her clothing hooves mainly consisted of mix matched socks, bright colored shirts and once she even wore her fairy dress that she always wore on her birthday to the Spanish Grand Prix.

“I want grand-mère to dress me.” Ruby stopped jumping.

“Oh, okay. She should be here soon so just pick out your clothes and she can dress you when she gets here.” Y/N said and grabbed her phone from the night stand. She hoped Charles wasn’t too busy to answer her call.

“Yes, my lovely wife that didn’t give me a morning kiss.” Charles spoke into the phone.

“You’re so dramatic, Perceval. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ll be at the paddock in an hour. You have everything you need, right? You’re not missing anything? Lucky socks? Lucky shirt?” Y/N listed off as she continued her makeup as she put the phone on speaker.

“Just my lucky wife and daughter.” Charles replied.

“Aw that’s cute. Didn’t know you had another one. Is she cute?” Y/N joked. From a distance she could hear Ruby talking to herself about which dress she wanted to wear.

“Yeah, Pierre is cute, but not as cute as you.”

“Mama! Grand-mère is here!” Ruby yelled as Pascale opened the door to the hotel room, Lorenzo, Arthur and Carla entered behind her.

“I have to go, Love. I’ll see you soon, world champion.” Y/N said.

“Stop, you’re going to jinx it.” Charles chuckled.

“No, I’ve been manifesting. I even went to a crystal shop before this trip. You’re going to be world champion, Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said witch much confidence.

“I love you, mon amour.” Charles replied. He hoped his dream would come true. It would mean so much to him seeing his daughter watch him become world champion.

“I love you the most, Perceval.” Y/N said then ended the call. Ruby then ran into the bathroom to show her mom a dress that Pascale has bought her so she could wear it to the race. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

“That’s what I told grand-mère!” Ruby smiled and ran back to the room. It was still too early, but there was no stoping the little girl.

Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, all dressed up and ready to go. “Hi, how are you?” Carla asked, kissing Y/N’s cheek to greet the mom.

“Nervous, but excited. Ruby’s even more excited.” Y/N nodded as she went up to every single member of the Leclerc family and kissed their cheek.

Pascale chuckled. “Did you see the dress I got Ruby? I saw it last week in the store and I just knew she would love it!”

Everyone looked at Ruby who was still jumping on the bed, but this time she had the dress in her hands.

“Ruby, careful. Come on, you said you wanted grand-mère to help you put your dress on. We have to go see papa race.”

Ruby took Pascale’s hand and led her grandmother to the bathroom so she could change. Carla and Y/N catched up on their lives while the two Leclerc men kept up with pre-race interviews on their phone.

“Y/N, they’re asking Charles about Ruby.” Arthur showed the phone screen to his sister-in-law.

“You’ve got a little girl, Ruby Jules-” Charles interrupted the interviewer.

“Right. But everyone knows her as baby leclerc and she loves the name. I was the one that gave her that.” Charles smiled proudly.

Charles had spoken to Y/N after Ruby’s whole instagram live video. Of course everyone knew Ruby’s name by now and that was something Y/N never wanted to be out in the first place. She at least wanted her daughter’s life to be private since hers and Charles was far from it.

“And is she excited about today? Does she understand that her dad could be world champion?”

Oh, Ruby understood more than that. In school, she had told her friends and teachers that her dad was already world champion. Of course that wasn’t true, (Not yet at least) but the little girl was so proud of her dad that she knew he could be world champion.

“Yeah, she has watched most of the races. She knows quite a few things actually, which surprises me because she mostly watches cartoons and listens to pop songs. But yeah, she even caught on with the whole forza charles and says it to me before every race even if she’s not here she makes her mother call me.” Charles explained.

“Forza Charles or Forza dad?”

“A bit of both. Charles when she’s excited so mostly I hear forza Charles coming from my daughter. It’s funny.”

The first time Ruby ever said that to her dad was in Silverstone. After hearing his daughter say those meaningful words, he pushed through and ended up on the podium.

“Mama! Look!” Y/N stopped looking at the screen to turn around to see her daughter in her new dress. Ruby twirled and did a pose which caused both uncles to take their phones out and snap photos of their niece.

“Where’s your grand-mère?” Y/N asked when she noticed Pascale wasn’t out of the bathroom yet.

“She wanted to ask you something. I think she wants to borrow some makeup.” Ruby ran to tackle her uncles by jumping on them.

Y/N nodded and went into the bathroom to see Pascale waiting for her. “Ruby said you wanted to ask me something.”

“Yes, I know I shouldn’t have looked around but Ruby wanted a little makeup from the bag so I grabbed some of yours and I found this.” Pascale handed her a pregnancy test that had the words positive on the little screen. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you wanted me to find out.”

“Pascale, don’t be sorry. You had to find out sooner or later. I put it here because Ruby knows not to touch my makeup bag.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m planning on telling Charles after he becomes world champion.”

“And he will.”

Charles would think that the two mothers made some kind of magic to make him win or that Y/N was actually serious about using crystals. Whatever it was, he was grateful because it got him an unforgettable moment.

“Charles Leclerc, you are world champion!”

Fireworks went off making Ruby cheer at the bright colors. She pointed at the right lights in the sky as Lorenzo held her in his arms. She was amazed until Lorenzo pointed at the Ferrari crossing the finish line that belonged to her father.

“That’s papa!” Ruby screamed.

Charles couldn’t wait to hug his family. After years and years of hard work, his dream of becoming world champion had finally come true. This moment was for him, for his father, for Jules, for Anthoine.

“When can I see papa?” Ruby asked her mom, who was standing beside Lorenzo.

“I’m not sure, chérie. Papa has a lot of people congratulating him. We’re going to see papa celebrate.” Y/N explained to the girl.

The family walked to get a good spot to see the podium ceremony. Checo was given his third place trophy while Max received his second place trophy. Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for, Charles receiving his world championship trophy. Lorenzo raised Ruby a bit higher so she could cheer for her dad. Arthur made sure to capture everything on video.

That night hearing the Monaco national anthem was something special. This was different. A good different.

Y/N stared at her husband with proudness. He worked extremely hard every year just for that moment. She clapped alongside everyone as Charles celebrated. Y/N wiped away a tear once Charles spotted his family. He blew several air kisses to where they were.

“Mama, he saw us!” Ruby excitedly said.

“And for the last time this year, the celebration!”

Les Toreadors started playing as all three drivers grabbed their bottle of champagne and started spraying each other. After a few seconds, Charles made his way to where the Ferrari team were and sprayed them.

“Is that juice?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, but it’s the kind that you can’t drink.” Arthur tried explaining.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for adults.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

Having Arthur around was like having another child. At least Ruby didn’t get bored with her uncle Arthur.

It felt like hours trying to get ahold of Charles since everyone was congratulating him on his championship. Ruby was the first to hug him since she ran to him at full speed.

“You did it, papa!” Ruby smiled brightly at her dad as she hugged him.

“It’s because of you. You gave me forza, remember? This is all you.” Charles hugged her tighter as he walked to his family waiting for him.

“Forza papa!” Ruby yelled. Charles set the girl down.

“mon beau garçon!” Pascale cried out as Charles hugged her. “Your father is proud of you forever.”

Charles couldn’t hold his tears in. This special moment was supposed to be celebrated with his whole family, but one special person was missing.

“Congratulations, little brother!” Lorenzo joined in on the hug as well as Arthur, Carla, Y/N and Ruby.

“Ice cream after?” Ruby suggested making everyone laugh. The hug was broken up, but Y/N still held onto her husband.

Pascale knew what the woman was going to do so she whispered to her sons and Carla to let them have a moment. “Come, Ruby, let’s go find ice cream.” Arthur grabbed Ruby’s hand.

The couple stayed in each others arms for a bit. Charles certainly didn’t want the night to end. He eventually let go of his wife to kiss her lips. “I did it, mon amour.” He said after kissing her.

“I’m beyond proud of you, Charles. Everyone is. You deserve this more than anyone.” Y/N kissed Charles once more.

“This feels like a dream.” Charles admitted. “Be honest, on what lap did you take out your little crystals to make me win?”

Y/N laughed and playfully smacked his arm. “I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t need any type of crystals to help you win. You’re Charles Leclerc, you’re world champion.”

“That sounds so beautiful coming from you.” Charles whispered as he grabbed ahold of her waist. “Would it be bad if we leave Ruby with maman and you and I can properly celebrate?”

“Calm down, world champion. If we go out, I probably won’t be much fun.” Y/N said. Charles raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Just to remind you what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas.”

“I am still trying to understand-”

“I’m saying Ruby might fight her new sibling over the baby leclerc title in nine months because I’m pregnant.”

“Oh!” Charles understood.

“Yeah, we are never going back to Vegas if it ends up with me being knocked up.”

“It’s Vegas, baby!”

[hollowdeath]

Okay I was thinking of writing this myself but like Harry and his crush (who's a talented Potions witch) brews up an aphrodisiac potion into the form of a vapor (inhaled through like an atomizer) and she wants to test it with her best friend (crush lmao) Harry. Idea is a WIP but if you could use it for a smut piece I wouldn't complain 🫣🫣 LOVE YOUR WORK OMFG

Thank you loveee! ❤️

AAAAA thank you for requesting this!!! ive been wanting to write something like this for a while so you gave me the perfect excuse to try it out :D you're the best!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been working on a project involving amortentia, the most powerful love potion to exist, and when harry tests your device the night before it's due, he has some rather intense side effects.

cw: smut!!! dom!harry, fingering, penetration, breeding

word count: 6k

you and harry had spent the entire semester working together on a project that challenged you to create a new form of an old potion. rather than settling for the obvious ideas like turning felix felicis into gummy candies, you and harry had decided to try something a bit more complex.

you knew right away you wanted to work with amortentia more closely, as you had always been fascinated by the potion and its powerful properties, and harry was more than willing to let you take the reins of the project. he gave insight when he could, and spent a fair amount of time helping you figure out the more complicated steps of the process, but he honestly just loved sitting back and watching you work your magic. literally.

you were by far the most knowledgeable student when it came to potions, and undoubtedly one of the smartest witches harry had ever met. he considered himself lucky that you two had already formed a friendship prior to taking potions together, allowing him to pair up with the most sought after partner in the entire class. more than just your knowledge and skill, harry was just excited to be your partner so he could know you better and see how your mind works.

you were excited to work with harry as well, but not to collaborate on potions and fiddle with mechanics you could never understand. you had looked forward to sitting close to him, reading from the same books, talking for hours, and watching his eyes intently focus as he prepared the ingredients for you. of course you two were friends more than anything, and you never considered yourself one of those girls who would fawn over harry for doing absolutely nothing, but working with him so intimately for the entire semester really made you see him differently. he was funny, he was smart, he remembered every little thing about you, and he always brought you snacks when you were working together. it didn't help that you found him absolutely adorable in big sweaters with messy hair, or felt your heart race when he looked at you from over his glasses, or couldn't keep your eyes off his hands when he was helping you put together your atomizer.

speaking of, your project had actually turned out extremely well for the little experience either of you had in engineering such a device. it was a small, handheld diffuser that transformed liquid amortentia, as well as a mix of other potent aphrodisiacs, into a vapor that could be inhaled for the full effect. harry had actually been the one to suggest the idea, trying to figure out a better way to ingest the mixture while still altering its state. you thought it was brilliant, and were surprised at how smooth the process turned out to be.

however, the presentation for the project was tomorrow morning, and you were still fiddling with a few of the mechanics to get it to work just right. it was hard to know when it was fully finished since testing the product wasn't exactly practical, as the effects would have anyone distracted and unable to focus within seconds of inhaling it. you were a bit frustrated sitting alone at your table in the potions lab, a single light above you as the sun had long since set and night took over. your head was in your hands, staring at the atomizer in front of you, wondering if you should just take the chance and test it since you were alone in the classroom.

just as you were convincing yourself, you heard the door creak open to your right, causing you to jump in your seat. you couldn't make out who was there ar first as your eyes were still adjusting to the dark room around you. you hadn't expected anyone to come in anyway, mostly because it was past curfew and, frankly, who would want to spend their time in the potions lab on a sunday evening?

but, as the figure walked closer to you, you noticed it was harry dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt with his slippers scraping across the wooden floors. "harry," you breathed a sigh of relief, your hand resting on your chest. "you scared the piss out of me." you say with a laugh.

harry chuckles, and you notice he's carrying his invisibility robe in one hand, half of his arm disappearing beneath it. "sorry, figured there'd be no one in here," he says with a sleepy voice, setting the robe over his own chair, making it disappear as well.

you sigh, setting your head back in your hands and leaning your elbows on the table. "it's okay, i probably shouldn't be here anyways. this thing has me seeing red, and not in a good way." you complain. harry laughs again, making his way next to you and under the light. your stomach drops at how soft he looks, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, deep voice quietly chuckling as he leans on the table beside you.

"yeah, well, i couldn't sleep knowing it wasn't perfect as well," harry tells you, his eyes fixated on the device. "not that slughorn would notice either way, but…" he trails off, making you crack a smile and chuckle as well.

harry looks down at you, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. "i just know how much it means to you." he says.

you feel yourself blushing and quickly begin changing the subject. "w-well, i think i've got it most of the way there, it's just, um…" you say nervously, picking up the cylindrical vaporizer and examining it in your hands once again.

"just…?" harry provokes.

you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head as you pass the device back and forth between your hands. "just…that, um, it still needs to be tested, i guess, to see the full effects, y'know?" you try to explain without stumbling over your thoughts.

harry understands what you mean and nods his head slowly. "oh, right…" he says a bit nervously as well, pushing himself off the table to stand up straight and clear his throat.

an awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as you continue to roll the vaporizer between your fingers. "yeah…" you trail off once again.

harry nervously chuckles, breaking the silence and making you laugh at the sudden tension. "well, then, hand it over i guess." harry casually requests, holding his hand out to you.

you look up at harry in confusion, your eyebrows pinched together as you examine his lighthearted expression. "harry," you try to find your words, feeling yourself still blushing under his gaze. "are you mad? you can't just test this out randomly." you try to explain to him.

harry shakes his head, his own eyebrows pinching together as he lets out an amused laugh. "why not? it can't be that strong," he shrugs.

you give harry another incredulous look, utterly confused at his nonchalant attitude. "are you kidding? this potion is composed of some of the most potent aphrodisiacs in the world, and inhaling them should only intensify the effects…theoretically," you add the last part in a hopeful tone, turning your attention back to the device in your hands.

harry just extends his hand out further, nearly touching yours. "well, we'll never know if we don't test it, now will we?" he asks with a smirk. you hesitate for another moment, still looking down at your hands. of course you were insanely curious about the effects of the project you spent weeks sweating over, and certainly would feel better knowing it actually works as intended before having to present it to the class tomorrow. but you were worried it could affect harry negatively, or that he could have a bad reaction to it, and you weren't sure if you could take that risk.

"just trust me, [y/n]. i can handle it." harry reassures you once more, his voice warm and familiar.

you sigh, carefully handing over the device to harry and leaning back in your chair. he smiles at you, taking one more look at the design of the vaporizer in his hands before bringing the mouthpiece up to his lips and inhaling the mixture. harry holds his breath for a moment before blowing out the vapor slowly, the clouds surrounding him under the dim lighting in a way that makes your heart stop. he looks ethereal with the billowing vapor coming from his lips and nostrils, a soft smile pinching his cheeks.

"tastes amazing," harry observes, taking another look at the design as the vapor fades into the air.

you wait for a few seconds, looking for any sign of behavioral changes in harry as he continues to rotate the device in his fingers. "well?" you ask in a hopeful tone.

harry looks down at you, and for a split second, you swear his pupils expand to the size of his iris before shrinking back to their normal size, blinking rapidly as they do. harry sets the device down and looks away from you, his neck jerking to the side and his knuckles clenching.

"harry?" you ask, concerned, standing from your seat and reaching for harry's shoulder. before you can touch him he jerks away, making a frustrated groaning sound as he did. you're still concerned, but mostly confused as harry's hands reach for the edge of the table and grip it so hard his veins are pulsing. his breathing is ragged and heavy, nearly growling as he tries to steady it. you're momentarily distracted before harry attempts to speak to you.

"it works," he barks out, his voice strained and impatient. you're taken aback at his aggressive change in tone. "what?" you ask again, trying again to reach for his shoulder. "harry, are you okay?"

just as you make contact with his sweatshirt, harry's legs go limp beneath him as he sinks to his knees. his breathing gets heavier as he lets out a pained groan, trying his best to stand up and let go of the table for support. "just," he says between panting breaths. "i have to go," he abruptly turns and tries to leave, his hands grabbing at his hair and face as he stumbles away.

"harry," you call after him. "what's happening? are you okay? is it hurting you?" you try to get some insight on what harry's experiencing, but he keeps shaking his head as he tries to make his way to the door.

"harry!" you finally snap, stepping away from the table. harry stops in his tracks. "our presentation is in 6 hours and you said you could handle the effects. now, i need to know what they are or else i'm testing it out myself." you demand angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

harry turns to you but doesn't dare look at you, his body hunched over as if he's in pain. his hands are still rubbing at his eyes and he seems to be wiping away sweat on his forehead every other second.

"look, [y/n]," harry snaps back. you're again taken aback by his tone; you've never heard his voice so dark and foreboding before, and the sound of him practically growling your name has your mind racing. "i told you it works, okay? isn't that what you wanted?" his words are rushed, as if he's still trying to leave when you have so many questions that need answered.

"i need to know specifics, harry. what does it feel like? was there any physical response? how strong is it? i mean, you really can't let me ask a few questions about something we've been working on for weeks?" you ask.

harry frustratedly walks towards you, his wide strides making you step back towards the table in anticipation. his fists are balled at his sides, his eyes still pointed at the ground. "you wanna know what it feels like?" his voice bellows in the empty classroom, causing you to jump and gasp. you didn't want any prefects to hear you two in the lab and then have to explain why harry was in such a state.

harry comes closer to you, backing you against the table as his eyes stay fixed downward. "you wanna know how i feel, [y/n]?" he asks again, his voice less angry and more impatient, feeling his hot breath fall across your skin. again, hearing him spit your name at you so aggressively only made your mind race faster. you could hardly speak, so you just nodded your head anxiously, still attempting to put more space between you and harry.

for a while only harry's heavy breathing fills the room. you can see his hands still clenched at his sides, nearly shaking from the amount of pressure they're under. just as you're about to turn your head away from the tense moment, harry's eyes meet yours. you gasp again, this time at just how dark they had become since first looking away from you.

harry smirks evilly at your shock, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the table behind you, bringing his body even closer to yours. you were feeling such a rush of every emotion possible it was hard to tell what exactly you were feeling; all you knew is you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs despite fear making your heart race.

"i feel like i could tear you apart." harry's words drip with venom, his body leaning further into yours. you let out a shaky breath, your feet still trying to back up despite the table stopping you. "and i feel like you would let me." harry teases, his smirk growing.

you let out an involuntary squeal as harry's face comes closer to yours, turning away to avoid his eyes. "h-harry–" you try to protest, but he turns your chin back to him before you can finish.

"wouldn't you?" harry asks with a knowing tone.

you try to turn away again but harry doesn't let you, instead only bringing your lips closer to his as his hand fixes itself around your jaw tightly. you struggle a bit in his grasp but he isn't letting you go.

"i see the way you watch me, pretty girl. you may be smart but you're not very clever." harry's lips barely graze yours as he talks, his breath overwhelming your senses as he continues to stare into your eyes. "you'd love for me to tell you all the filthy thoughts running through my head about you right now, wouldn't you, darling? want me to describe every scenario, every position, every sound that comes from these pretty lips?" harry's thumb raises from your chin to your bottom lip as he swipes it across the soft skin.

you're speechless at his blunt attitude, your legs shaking beneath you as you try your best to continue standing. your mind is a mess trying to understand his response. you knew the vapor would be powerful, but you had no idea harry would react like this. you weren't exactly complaining, it was just so out of character for him to be so suggestive and upfront with his desires, let alone his apparent desire for you.

you clear your throat, trying to gain the confidence to formulate an answer to his question. "h-harry, it's the vapor, y-you're not yourself," you try to explain, your voice getting caught. "just…just sit down a-and we can talk about the side effects."

harry's grip on your jaw tightens more, making you wince slightly.

harry pulls away from your face, his eyes still boring into yours hungrily. his glasses are slightly fogged from how close he was to you, but his blown pupils were still clearly visible. he's looking down at you, smirking, chuckling at your pained expression. "you never answered my questions, if i remember correctly."

you can hardly continue keeping eye contact with harry as you felt your cheeks completely flushed and heart racing beneath his grasp. you were trying to keep it together knowing he was under the effects of a powerful potion, but part of you has wanted this for so long it only feels right to let harry have what he seems to want as well. i mean, that's what friends are for, right?

still squirming under the weight of his body against yours, harry grows impatient as he lets his clothed erection just barely rub against your thigh, enough to get your attention. your eyes widen, and harry smiles in satisfaction, humming at your response. you let your body relax despite your thumping heartbeat and rapid breathing, feeling yourself lean into harry as well.

harry hums again with his eyes tracing over every part of your face like he's trying to memorize it. "hmm, that's what i thought. now, tell me, pretty girl," harry starts, his hand tilting your head up to face him more. "what do you want?"

his question left you speechless once again. you didn't expect harry to consider your feelings in the matter; not that it made any difference anyway, you've wanted him just as bad for a long time now. but you were conflicted, was harry actually attracted to you, or would the potion make him act this way towards anybody? would it be wrong of you to encourage his behavior knowing he was under the influence of a potion? did any of that even matter with harry's throbbing erection pressed against you?

rather than answering harry's question, you took a chance and reached for his shoulders to help steady yourself before pressing your lips against his. harry moans into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your jaw loosening but still holding you in place. his other hand snakes around from the edge of the table to your ass, hungrily grabbing for it and making you gasp.

harry takes this chance to shove his tongue past your lips, pushing you back against the table once more. in one swift motion he lifts your ass onto the tabletop, sitting you down in front of him. both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt, which you help him take off quickly. his lips attached to your neck, his hands already wrapped around your waist, and you nervously watched the door behind harry to make sure no one catches you two.

you start pulling at harry's sweatshirt and he rips it off before you even have the chance to help him. his skin is hot to the touch, and his hair's becoming damp with sweat. "harry," you say shakily as he's leaving a bruise on the side of your neck with his teeth. "you're so warm,"

pulling away and admiring the fresh red mark he's left on you, harry has a slight smirk on his swollen lips, "you should feel my heart," he says with a chuckle, guiding one of your hands to his warm chest. you can immediately feel his racing heart just beneath your fingertips, beating at a pace that couldn't be healthy for him.

you try to protest, but harry just gives you another hungry but short kiss. "i'm fine, [y/n]. i'm better than fine. it's like every inhibition i've ever had is gone, and it feels amazing. i'm sorry if i've been a bit strong, but, if you could see what i'm thinking, you'd actually be a bit impressed with my restraint…" harry voice is softer this time, his hands finding their way to your back, fiddling with the clasps on your bra. his lips wander from your ear down to your shoulder, sending a chill down your spine.

once harry has your bra undone, he looks back at you for confirmation. you eagerly help him remove it from you, throwing it to the side as harry's eyes become fixated on your chest. "fucking hell, [y/n]." harry curses under his breath before his hands cup your boobs aggressively, making you whimper in response.

it doesn't take long before harry has to press his lips against the soft skin of your tits, with his teeth following not far behind. you instinctively bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds you can't hold back, but harry isn't having any of it. he gives you a stern look before grabbing your wrist and placing your hand in his messy hair. "let me hear you." he states, his voice dark and commanding once again.

once harry's lips and tongue find their way to your nipples, you can't help but start to melt in his hands. whiny moans, gasps, and occasional curses fall from your lips watching harry's eyes flutter close as he enjoys pleasing you. your fingers become entangled in his hair, holding him closer to your chest.

however, harry soon grows impatient again, and your filthy noises certainly didn't help him.

he pulls you down from the table, making sure you're able to stand before quickly turning you around and pressing his erection against your ass. you moan at the feeling and grind against him, making harry's grip on your waist tighten as he lets out his own strangled moan.

you help harry remove your pants as his come off as well. only left in your underwear, harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his fingers softly running across the wet fabric covering your pussy. "fuck," he breathes against your ear, his other arm wrapping across your chest and bringing you further into him. "i need you."

harry's desperate tone sends another shiver across your skin, your mind practically short circuiting at the thought of him wanting you so badly.

harry bends you over the table, his chest against your back as he leaves rushed kisses along the nape of your neck. the cold surface of the lab table makes you gasp, your nipples hardening at the sensation.

"now," harry says, leaving one more kiss just under your ear. "what i want you to do," he continues, reaching for your open notebook across the table as well as your pen. "is be a good potions student, and write down my symptoms." he tells you as he sets the notebook in front of you and hands you the pen. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you're a bit confused and nearly about to protest when you feel harry's fingers hook under your panties and pull them down hastily. you try to look back at him, but a hand quickly grabs your hair from behind and forces you to look back at your notes. "follow the rules, darling." harry's deep voice instructs you with a hint of a threat behind his words.

harry's grip on your hair only makes your pussy throb more. you can feel his other hand resting on the back of your thigh, his fingers running along the wet folds of your pussy, humming to himself at the warm feeling. just as you're about to start writing, you can feel harry slowly pushing a finger inside of you. your moan is strained at the unfamiliar feeling, but harry's tight grip in your hair loosens as he begins to comfort you. "just relax and let me take care of it, baby."

if you weren't wet before you certainly were now. your knees were weakening beneath you, forcing you to lean into the table for more support. you relaxed your body and breathed evenly, trying to shift your focus to the notes in front of you instead. your handwriting is shaky and uneven, biting your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the desperate feeling growing inside you.

"go on, tell me what you wrote." harry teases. you groan in protest but attempt to speak anyway. "r-rapid, heartbeat," you manage to say before you start writing the next symptom. "d–" you try to speak, but you gasp as harry introduces another finger into your aching pussy.

harry chuckles, tightening his grip in your hair. "hm?" he asks, waiting for you to continue. you try to hold back your moans as you look back down at your notes, your eyes attempting to focus on your writing. "d-dilated…pupils…" you trail off, your eyes rolling back as harry's fingers thrust deeper into you. you can hardly keep your moaning under control and harry's loving every second of it.

"lack of…inhibitions," you breathe out, your handwriting barely legible the more you write. harry deep chuckle from behind you only distracts you further. your stomach is tight and your legs can barely hold you up anymore as you feel your high begin to build. just as it does, harry removes his fingers and leaves you feeling empty.

before you can whine, harry lets go of his grip on your hair and instead grabs your shoulders, pulling you up from the table a bit. holding yourself up with your arms, harry separates your feet with his. you can feel the head of his cock grinding against your wetness from behind.

harry's fingers end up in your mouth, making you taste yourself as he forces your head back to look at him. his eyes are entirely dark, no longer the inviting shades of blue you're so accustomed to. his smirk is evil, and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the excessive sweating. "i want to watch you take me." harry's voice is darker than his eyes, a cold, demanding force that takes what it needs.

with his fingers still holding your mouth open, you let out a pained moan at the overwhelming feeling of harry's cock pushing inside of you. despite his aggressive demeanor, harry remains gentle with you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling and carefully watching your expression. his eyes are practically sparkling with lust watching you lose yourself in the feeling of being filled by his cock.

"fuck," harry curses under his breath again. his other hand grabs for your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like you're the only thing keeping him standing. "feel so good, darling." harry places a messy kiss on your forehead before he begins thrusting into you again, slowly, enjoying every second he's inside of you.

you're nearly crying out in pleasure and desperation with the pathetic sounds coming from you. you can hardly move against harry's grasp, not that you were complaining, but you just needed more or else you would go insane.

you attempt to push your hips back to make harry get the message, and the smirk on his face tells you he got it right away. once he starts thrusting into you quicker, your mind goes blank. you can feel the drool start to drip out of your mouth and over harry's fingers, even down to your chest and the table top. harry is groaning at the sight of you becoming such a mess for him.

"looks like you needed this more than i did, hm?" harry teases, his lips so close to your ear you can feel them. you nod eagerly, your hands reaching for his arm holding your mouth open. you grip onto his forearm for stability, your eyes rolling back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure. he takes his fingers out of your mouth and instead holds your throat tightly. you gasp for air and wipe the drool from your lips.

soon both of your moans fill the room, the air sweaty and the table creaking beneath you. the fear of someone hearing you or getting caught no longer concerns you, if anything it just thrills you even more.

harry then reaches for your notes and pen again. you try hold the pen as well as you could. "i have one more symptom i want you to add," harry says between heavy breaths, becoming worn out and even more sweaty. you whine, but nod your head as you attempt to line your writing up with the rest.

you feel harry bend you further over the table, his chest hot against your back as he continues pounding into you. it's challenging trying to keep your eyes open and focused when you're completely blissed out with harry groaning in your ear.

"obsession," he hisses, his grip on your throat tightening as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

you try to write out the word, but you can hardly keep your hands steady. your stomach feels tight, your heart starts beating even faster, and you can feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm.

harry chuckles at your pathetic attempt at writing, but moves the notebook away anyway. "good girl." he commends you.

it's enough to bring you over the edge, your mouth dropping open with nasty sounds and eyes rolling back once more. harry groans into your ear as your pussy tightens around him, his thrusting becoming sloppy and tired.

"please," he breathes out just as you start coming down. "please, baby, can i cum inside you, please, please, i need it," harry's practically begging you, as if he even needed to ask.

"cum inside me, harry, please,"

"fuck," he moans again, his voice broken and needy. he's still desperately chasing his high, his hands sliding around to your stomach to feel himself pounding into you. "you're all mine, [y/n], all fucking mine." he growls into your ear. you could nearly cum again hearing harry fall apart behind you.

with a few more stuttering thrusts, harry cums inside you with another broken moan, bending you over the table again as his hands try to catch himself. his cock still fully inside you, you can feel his chest rising and falling on your back as he tries to catch his breath.

harry quickly gets off of you, almost in a rush. you turn to him and see his eyes are wide, his pupils shrinking back to their normal size, his hair nearly soaked in sweat. he tries his best to cover himself up, eventually grabbing for his pajama pants to put them back on. you're a bit lost at his reaction, hoping he didn't regret his actions so quickly.

"u-uhm, [y/n], i'm…i'm, so sorry," harry apologizes, his voice genuine and scared. he's wiping the sweat from his face, barely able to look at you. "i-i didn't mean for it to, f-for me to, um…" he's stumbling over his words, the same nervous harry you were so used to.

you smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself a bit as well. "what, you didn't mean to fuck me over our lab table?" you ask smugly. harry's cheeks are completely flushed but he's trying his best to hide that from you, his hands covering his face.

"stop." he simply says, his voice meek and quiet. you giggle to yourself and step closer to him, admiring how pretty his sweaty skin looks in the dim lighting.

"hey," you say to him, stopping only about a foot away, completely naked and still shaking a bit. you reach for harry's arm and tug at it, making him uncover his face. he still doesn't dare look at you. "look, it's okay. that potion was extremely powerful, and we didn't know what would happen. as long as you feel alright that's all that matters, yeah? and, y'know, we can still be friends, even if you regret it..." you add the last part quietly, your voice breaking a bit.

harry looks up at you with guilty eyes. he's a bit distracted by your bare skin, but he can't stop looking back into your eyes. "please, don't take this as regret," he says, his eyebrows raised sympathetically. "i-i just, that's not…" he sighs, frustrated, looking away from you again. "it wasn't supposed to happen that way, our first time. n-not that i've thought about it that much," harry nervously interrupts himself, making you giggle once more.

harry looks back at you, his eyes wandering down to your chest. "u-uhm, just, you…if we ever did, y'know…you'd just deserve so much better than that," he tries to explain himself while clearly flustered.

you laugh again. "harry, i clearly enjoyed myself just then, didn't i? i mean, i don't know how it could've been much better." you admit, still in a teasing tone.

harry reaches for your shirt on the floor and offers to help you put it on. as he does you notice his eyes lingering on your chest again. "yes, but, i would've at least liked for you to have a bed to be comfortable on…" he says, knocking his knuckles against the hard surface of the table.

you roll your eyes at harry and reach for your pants as well. "well, maybe we can plan better for next time." you say with a smirk as you slip them on. harry straightens up from grabbing his shirt and looks at you with wide eyes again. "next time?" he asks innocently. you swear you could take him again right then and there, but you hold yourself back. "yeah, next time. if you'd like that." you offer him.

harry gives you that same shy smile he always has, and can barely hold himself back as he steps towards you and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. it's different, not hungry or full of lust, but rather warm and comforting. he pulls away after a moment to look at you, admiring your face in the light. "i'd love to." he whispers to you.

after helping you pack your stuff and clean up the table, harry offers to walk you back to your room with the invisibility cloak. you accept his offer and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, covering you both and walking you out of the lab and down the hallway.

before he leaves you for the night, harry can't help but snag another kiss, still as soft and loving as before with his hand resting on your cheek. you giggle into his lips, laying your forehead on his. "goodnight, harry." you say to him, readjusting your bag with your notebooks. "goodnight, my love." he tells you, unwrapping you from the cloak and leaving you with a swish.

the next morning you two had barely slept, sitting in potions class with matching eye bags and flushed cheeks. you could hardly look at the side of the table you were just bent over last night, and noticed harry smirking anytime he turned his head that way as well. his hands were subtly bumping into yours, as well as his knees, trying anything to get your attention during the other presentations. you just gave him a look, but couldn't help smiling at his gestures.

when it was your turn to present, harry let you do most of the talking and admired how passionately you spoke about the process to create the device. slughorn was more than impressed with your skill and knowledge, and awarded you and harry with top marks for your vaporizer.

"would there be any way to test the device?" he had asked curiously, holding it between his hands and examining it. "no!" you nearly exclaimed, taking it from his hands before he could even try. slughorn gives you a surprised look, but harry pipes up from behind you. "it's entirely too powerful to just try it out casually, sir." he says.

slughorn's eyebrows pinch together. "how so?" he asks. you and harry exchange awkward looks, both blushing and chuckling to yourselves. harry takes the device from you and puts it in his own pocket.

"just trust me, sir."

tag list: @gorlsinmultifandoms @mymoonmeow @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

(if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, leave a comment or send me a message! if you like this please let me know, your comments make my day <3)

[paaxindigenouswitchcraft]

[wanderingsorcerer]

APPALACHIAN FOLKLORE 101

Appalachia has a rich history in the united states, which goes farther back than most tend to give it credit for. The Appalachian mountains are millions of years old, and humans have only lived in the region for 16,000 years or so, which means the mountains are bound to hold some mysteries and legends.

Many of these stories, and folk practices originate from the Native Americans, specifically Cherokee, and are mixed in with the superstitions brought over from the old world specifically English, Irish, and Scottish. As well as the practices brought over from the African Continent During the Slave Trade. The Native population assisted the early settlers in Appalachia with ways to survive the area, grow food, and even forage for one of Appalachia's staple foods, RAMPS!!!

Let's delve into the history of Appalachian Folklore and the origins of everyone's favorite stories.

Cryptids and Myths

This is one of the most famous aspects of Appalachian folklore and one which outsiders know the most about, Appalachian Myths and their Cryptids that follow. Below I will go over a few of the more famous ones, which many have learned about, either second-hand or through living in the area.

The Moon-Eyed People

There was a group of humanoids called the Moon-Eyed People, who were short, bearded, and had pale skin with large, bright eyes. They were completely nocturnal due to their eyes being extremely sensitive to light. Although not mythical, they were considered a separate race of people by some. The tribes viewed them as a threat and forced them out of their caves on a full moon night. They were said to have scattered to other parts of Appalachia as the moon’s light was too bright for their eyes. There are some early structures that are believed to be related to the Moon-Eyed People, dating back to 400 BCE. Some theories suggest that they were early European settlers who arrived much before Columbus discovered the Americas. Other theories suggest they were people who had Albanism.

Image of The Moon Eyed People Statues in Murphy, North Carolina

Spearfinger

Spearfinger is a Cherokee legend of a shapeshifting, stone-skinned witch with a long knife in place of one of her fingers. She often was described as an old woman, which she would take the form of to convince Cherokee children that she was their grandmother. She would sit with them, brush their hair until they fell asleep, and then kill them with her “spear finger.” She had a love of human livers which she would extract from the bodies of those she killed. It was said she left no visible scars on her victims. She carried her own heart in her hand to protect it, as it was her one weakness. As the legend goes, she was captured and defeated with the help of several birds that carried the information to defeat her. Though she has been destroyed, sometimes you can hear her cackles and songs throughout the mountains. 

Image of SpearFinger Cherokee Legend

W*ndigo

This spirit is said to go to where its name is called allowed so since most of us already know the name I won't be writing it out in completion. So out of respect for some of our native readers, it will remain censored

The W*ndigo is a creature, sometimes referred to as an evil spirit, that is said to be 15 feet tall with a body that is thin, with skin pulled so tight that its bones are visible. Many native legends view it as a spirit of greed, gluttony, and insatiable hunger. It is a flesh-eating beast that is considered most active during the colder months, and its presence is easily felt and smelt. It has been described as having a distinct smell of rot and decay due to its skin being ripped and unclean. It produces an overwhelming urge of greed and insatiable want. Most notably, it is not one to chase or seek after its prey; instead, it uses its terrifying mimicry skill. It often mimics human voices, screams, loved ones, or anything that might entice its victim to come to it. In some cases, it is believed the W*ndigo is a spirit that can possess other humans and fill them with greed and selfishness, turning them into W*ndigos as well.  

Appalachian Folk Practices

Many of the common Appalachian folk practices stem from things the Native Americans and Enslaved Africans taught them mixed in with cultural practices from Europe. Here I will go over some of the most common practices done by the Appalachian people

Water Dowsing

water dowsing is a practice that has been done for hundreds of years in many different cultures. This practice was brought over by the European settlers and was how many people of the time found where to dig for their water. The practice itself is simple in nature, you take a forked branch from a tree and hold it in both hands and walk around once the stick points down due to the electromagnetic current that's where you dig your well.

this isn't exactly the best way to find water but many people still do it to this day.

Image of Someone Using A Dowsing Rod

Bottle Trees

This practice originated in the Congo area of Africa, in the 9th century A.D. brought to America by the slave trade, in the 17th century. Bottle Trees, were popular in the American South and up into Appalachia, the spirits are said to be attracted to the blue color of the bottles, and captured at night, then when the sun rises it destroys the evil spirits.

This is still practiced in the modern era by many Appalachian Folk Practitioners

Image Of Bottle Trees

SIN EATING

This practice originates from the Ancient Greeks and Egyptians, it branched to many different cultures and has been practiced since antiquity by many Christian and Catholic tribes. And later making its way to America via immigration. The process was once a profession in Appalachia, in which food was placed on or near the deceased and a person dressed in all black would eat the food absolving the dead of all of their earthly sins. This essentially cemented their ability to get into heaven. The practice while sparsely done any more as a profession, it can still be found in many peoples funeral services to this day around the world.

Many cultures still do this practice and the sin eaters usually choose to hide their identity as the practice is seen as taboo to this day.

Popular Herbs To Forage In Appalachia Folk Practices

Wild Leeks or RAMPS!!!

Allium tricoccum, are a species of wild onion native to North America. They are a delicacy, and hold a special place in the hearts of many Appalachians. Native Americans such as the Cherokee ate the plant and used it medicinally for a variety of purposes including as a spring tonic. Early European settlers learned how to Forage from the Indigenous People and continued to eat and use ramps medicinally. Ramps provide many nutrients and minerals and historically have been used to nourish people after harsh winters.

*RAMPS poisoness Look Alike

False hellebore (Veratrum) is a highly poisonous plant that can be mistaken for a prized wild edible, the wild leek, or ramp (Allium tricoccum)

Chicken of the Woods

Laetiporus sulphureus. Chicken of the woods is a sulphur-yellow bracket fungus of trees in woods, parks and gardens. They are delicious and are loved by many foragers, Native Americans, and Appalachians alike. The Native Americans taught the early settlers that these were edible and have been a favorite ever since. Chicken of the Woods is most likely to be found from August through October, but it can be found as early as May and up to December depending on where you live.

*These have a poisoness look alike, Jack O Lantern mushrooms

The Jack-o'-lantern mushroom should not be eaten because it is poisonous to humans. It contains toxic chemicals that can cause severe stomach upset accompanied by vomiting, diarrhea and headache

PawPaws

The Pawpaw Asimina triloba, is well loved by Appalachian locals as a native fruit with a tropical taste. Pawpaw fruit is the largest tree fruit native to the United States, and its custard-like flesh has been said to taste like a combination of banana, pineapple, and Mango. The pawpaw has been used by Native Americans for centuries for both its fruit and its medicinal properties. Many tribes, including the Osage and Sioux, ate the fruit; the Iroquois used the mashed fruit to make small dried cakes to reconstitute later for cooking. PawPaw season is late summer, look for the smell of rotting fruit, eat the ones that are squishy to the touch.

*They resemble mangos on the trees, many options to eat the ones that are on the floor already as they usually have ripened, but you can also ripen them at home.

Appalachia has a rich and beautiful history filled with magic and delicious food. But the only real way to learn about Appalachia is to visit it. Go and speak with locals, learn about the history, their delicious foods, and powerful Grandma magic, and you too will fall in love with Appalachia.

Thank you for sitting down and having Tea with me on the Other side of the Great Divide

[romanoffsbish]

Left Hanging

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Request | Wanda felt bad, truly, but how else were you gonna learn? | WC: 1,152

Smut: Mommy (W) | Fingering (R) | Teasing | Choking | Degradation | Orgasm Denial

18+ | Minors DNI

“Wet already?” Wanda quirked a brow at you, her devilish smile showcasing her budding amusement at your desperate state. “I see you're so eager, hm?” You rolled your eyes, and huffed: “See what a mess you've made me?”

Wanda’s soft touch dissipated instantaneously, she was finally giving into your needy ways after hours of relentless teasing and you want to get smart with her instead of appreciative.

——

“I could just go back to the party you know,” she mused aloud, but her fingers betrayed her threat as they plunged into your heat without any warning and your moans soon bellowed off the walls as she started off with a brutal pace.

“Please,” your hands clawed at the collar of her undershirt, the defiance in your eyes melted into the fresh tears that now lined your lashes. “I-I’ll be good now mommy, I-I swear to it.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep up the facade for long. She wanted to fuck you dumb just as much as you needed her to, but that didn’t mean she had to be kind about it.

“You’re such a selfish brat Y/N,” she grunted against the skin of your neck, her tongue slid over the salty skin and she reveled in the way that she could feel your erratic pulse racing. “Just a desperate whore in need of her mommy to fill her holes, never caring about others.”

Suddenly you remembered the occasion, it was Yelena’s birthday, so you weakly tried to shove your girlfriend off of you, but you never shoved hard enough for it to mean anything. Remorse might weigh heavy on your heart for leaving your best friend downstairs, but you were too busy getting your very own roughly fucked.

The witch bit into the heated skin surrounding your pulse point and your walls fluttered with a warning that you wished the brunette ignored. “Pathetic,” Wanda huskily chuckled against the shell of your ear and you whimpered in a mix of embarrassment and despair as she was intentionally keeping you perpetually teetering.

Her free, deft hand snaked up your body as she marked what was hers with passionate grunts, and soon those nimble fingers replaced her hungry teeth and rid you of the air you craved. Wanda knew you desired this sensation much more anyways, you’d always been unable to hide your infatuation with all things morbid.

“Look at you,” she chuckled tauntingly, her grip around your throat tightened, “pathetic.” Wanda never failed to remind you of this fact every single time, because you’d yet to prove her wrong with just how quick you submit to her. Like now, just as she expected your hips canted up even faster as you chased your high.

It was actually quite hard for her to show her restraint here, she actually no longer even had to thrust her hand as you’d eagerly taken over the process of fucking yourself dumb. Wanda refused to let you cum though, so she watched closely as the haze in your eyes flourished, and just as your back began to arch off the mattress and your eyes fluttered shut she abruptly took her fingers back from your clenching warmth.

A flicker of defiance returned to your eyes, but her hand squeezed your neck once more as her head tilted and you settled into the expected punishment. You’d actually let yourself believe this time would be different—what a fool.

“Clean yourself up,” she commanded as the warmth of her body no longer hovered yours. You blinked a few times, mouth running as dry as your eyes when she moaned around her slicked up fingers. She winked down at you as she saw your thighs clench involuntarily. “We better not miss the cake cutting detka…”

You headed her warning, hopping up onto shaky legs and moving to pull your panties up. However a hand stopped yours, Wanda shook her head while maintaining eye contact with you as she slid them in the opposite direction.

Wanda slid her suit jacket back on, and folded your slick green lace panties into the perfect triangle that she slipped into her polo pocket. Then she extended her hand tainted with your scent to you with a stern gaze and you took it. Albeit reluctantly as she guided you back out, you gulped as the cold air highlighted the stark wetness coating your thighs, the trail leading up to your exposed cunt that squelched with each shaky step you took back downstairs.

At least the music was loud enough to shield the shred of dignity you clung to as the room full of your peers knowingly looked at you.

Natasha smirked over her glass as she took in the way you wobbled towards her sister, and then her eyes rolled when Wanda settled down besides her on the leather couch. “Are you sure it isn’t you who’s the brat here Wands?”

Wanda chuckled, “Takes one to tame one.” Then she proved the woman’s point as she stole her glass and polished off her cocktail. Natasha glared at her, but then she hummed her agreement, “Touché,” the redhead then beckoned her very own tamed brat over.

“Hey Wanda,” Maria politely greeted as she settled down onto Natasha’s manspread lap even though the couch had plenty of space.

Wanda smiled at her, and the three spent a few minutes chatting before she felt a pang in her chest at the sound of your distant laughter.

“It’s well beyond eleven Wanda, you can call it a night without being a loser,” Natasha teased her pouting best friend, to which she received a weak shove as the brunette used her body to propel herself off the couch. “Farewell asshole, I’m so sorry for your sake Maria. Godspeed.”

When you felt a hand on your waist you tensed as Yelena mindlessly droned on. This situation had been the exact thing that got you in trouble earlier in the night, but then you caught a whiff of your girlfriend’s spiced vanilla perfume that paired so well with her natural pheromones you couldn’t help but to melt right into her.

“You ready to go honey?” She lowly husked as her thumbs pressed into the exposed skin of your hips. “Mommy’s ready to reward you now if you’ll just say a proper goodbye to Lena.”

You lunged forward and embraced your bestie in a tight hug that she reciprocated, the blonde lightly chuckled as she felt your body buzzing.

“Happy Birthday Lena, see you later?!” You squished her cheeks between your hands, and she smiled knowingly. “Go on Y/N, someone should at least have fun in their birthday suit!”

Wanda rolled her eyes, and whispered to the blonde: “Kate’s only two eager seats away.” Then she whisked you off, practically carrying you to her car as your legs were still shaky.

You were in for the night of your life…