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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Non-binary lich x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This has been up on Patreon for a week now on early release. New stories for Tumblr go up on Wednesdays at the moment and are available there for a whole week before they hit Tumblr, so if you want to have access to the next one (it just went up), make sure you’re on the $5 tier. I’d love to have you as the newest member of the Patreon supporters!

Anyway, contents: It's 7688 words long, features a non-binary, skeletal lich, is set in a fantasy setting, and I don't think it comes with any warnings. Looking forward to your reaction!!

“So, you’re the new librarian…”

The softly rasping voice behind you startled the life out of you, and you dropped the three-volume stack onto the thick, oak table with an undignified squawk. The boom rang out through the castle library and one or two scholars shot glares at you over the top of their research. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a moving skeleton and your eyes widened even further.

Wearing a long, unadorned, shapeless, black robe with the hood pulled right up over the bare ivory of the skull, the figure had a glowing green light in their eye sockets and one of their teeth had been replaced at some point by a silver prosthetic. More than that, you couldn’t say, but it was apparent that their entire body was just a humanoid skeleton beneath the billowing robes.

And then the penny dropped. “Oh!” you gasped, straightening a little. “You’re… You’re Avery… the court mage…” How many liches could one royal castle have after all?

They dipped their head in a curt bow. “Indeed.”

“I’m sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting…”

Another little bow. “It’s quite alright. I realise that meeting a someone like me for the first time can be somewhat… unnerving.”

You opened your mouth to counter them, but realised it was actually true, and just nodded. “How can I help you anyway?” you asked instead.

They seemed to appreciate the segue into safer waters, and told you the name of the tome they were looking for. “It’s essentially a compendium of plants and fungi that grow only on the fringes of Silver Perch Lake in Aragantia,” they added. “A somewhat… specialised catalogue, I’m aware.”

With a nod, you headed to the vast catalogue system and in almost no time at all, especially given how new you were to the post, you and the court mage were walking silently through the shelves of the royal library in search of the book’s location. Avery made no attempt to talk to you, and you assumed they preferred it that way. After all, you supposed, what could a humble librarian have to say to a necromancer and a mage as powerful as them anyway? In your relatively limited experience of mages, they tended to look down on anyone not powerful or supposedly intelligent enough to wield magic.

As you proceeded further and further into the dark stacks, the light dwindled to almost nothing, and in that moment you cursed the innate flammability of paper and parchment, longing for a lamp of sorts.

Slowing, and trying not to fumble, you squinted and ran your fingertips along the shelves to keep a straight course. During your interview for the position, you’d been told about the glowing crystals that the team of three librarians had access to, but apparently you were still too junior to warrant their secrets yet. It had not been expected, it seemed, that someone as important as Avery would require your assistance. Re-shelving returns in the main library was all you’d done so far in your short tenure after all.

“Here,” the lich said from behind you, the word spoken aloud making you jump all over again, and a moment later, a flickering ball of blue light wafted past you to float a pace or two in front of you. It moved when you did, bobbing slowly.

“Handy,” you grinned back at them over your shoulder. “Thanks.”

In the eerie pulsing light, the dark sockets of their skull and the smooth bone looked almost frightening, but you reminded yourself that this was not an old haunted castle from a horror story, and was in fact the hub of a great trading network whose machinations were aided by the work of the court mage, who also just happened to be a lich and, by extension, a necromancer.

With no expression at all to offer you comfort or reassurance, Avery just lowered their gaze and waited for you to move on again.

The book was right where it should have been - thank all the library gods - and once their skeletal hands had taken it reverently from you, little bones clicking softly as they shifted, Avery turned and left you in the stacks with a short ‘thank you’, the light light for company, and a thousand questions buzzing around your head.

Naturally, the first place you went after that was the section on liches and phylacteries, and there you lost yourself for well over an hour.

After that, the court mage found their way back to the library almost every time you were on duty. To your surprise, they were actually quite chatty, answering your tentative questions about their research with long and interesting answers, leafing through the book they’d just taken out to show you a diagram or ritual, constellation, or phase of the moon, and relaying its relevance to their work at the time without reserve.

“I’d always thought mages were secretive about their work,” you ventured one afternoon as sunlight flooded into the open study room at the back of the library where Avery had set up camp for the afternoon.

At your words, they looked up, an oddly tense and intrigued set to their head and you got the impression that, had they had the body to go with the bones, they might have been smiling curiously. “Why do you say that?”

“Well,” you began, feeling a little warm under the collar. Their close scrutiny made you shuffle and turn a little away from them to lessen it. “At the university, your lot always kept to themselves, you know? And no one else was allowed in their section of the library without a mage escort and a note of recommendation from about fifteen different tutors… I got it eventually, of course —”

“— of course,” they interrupted with a wry smile in their voice.

Their tone may have been light and joking, but it carried the weight of enormous respect too, and you choked for a moment before babbling on again. “I’m not suggesting that anyone should just go in and help themselves to dangerous magical texts, don’t get me wrong… It was just… frustrating to be treated like that, that’s all.”

You turned to find them still regarding you with that birdlike curiosity and for a moment you forgot that they were little more than an immense reserve of magic holding together a stack of humanoid bones and wearing a dark robe. It might have been comical to see them that way, but honestly, in that moment, their blazing intelligence and slightly off-the-wall humour endeared you towards them even more. It wouldn’t have been a secret to suggest you had the beginnings of an almighty crush forming. If you didn’t beat it back soon, it would become unwieldy and unmanageable, and it wouldn’t end well for either of you. A member of the castle staff you might have been, but the court mage was one of the most powerful figures in the entire kingdom, and not meant for the likes of you.

And anyway, who was to say that there was anything about you to interest them anyway? The whole point of becoming a lich was to strip away all earthly connections save for the absolute fundamentals - the skeleton - and become an entity largely made of magic, the better to channel it. There were, you had to admit, one or two cases of liches binding themselves to living lovers, and accounts detailing the fierceness and loyalty of those rare unions had left you breathless as you’d scoured the volumes on liches all those weeks ago, but you couldn’t assume that Avery would be such a person after all.

If they had given a reply, you didn’t hear it behind the buzzing, rushing disappointment in your ears at that thought. Closing yourself off a little, you excused yourself politely and returned to your duties in the library beyond, leaving them alone in the study room. After all, Avery still had to figure out a way to harness the power of the sea itself in order to reduce the risk to life of those currently engaged in preparations to dredge and deepen the large trading harbour along the coast. Such complex calculations were hardly in the realm of a librarian.

About a week later, as you sat in the servant’s parlour one afternoon, where most of the castle staff gathered during their time off, a bookish young satyr, with curly, ash blond hair and contrastingly dark brown skin and horns, the stoop of a scholar, and a pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose, approached and asked for you by name in a warm, stutter-laced tenor.

“Yeah, that’s me…” you said, turning from your conversation with one of the naga guards. “What’s up?”

“Y-Y-You’re the llll… the lllll…” the words just died on his tongue or stuck there like treacle, refusing to leave one syllable and move onto the next, but he took a breath and on the exhale said, “Librarian…?”

“I am,” you said. “If you need something from the stacks though, I think Timothy is on duty today.”

He nodded. “I… I know. Avery… sss-sssent me to… to llll… to lllllook for you. They’d llllike you to… to… to…” At the repetition, his cheeks flushed a bit, but you waited him out and he rallied. “To attend them in their t-t-t-tower to c-c-consult on something.”

“Oh. Really? What… now?” you asked and the satyr nodded. He had a flighty, twitchy energy to him, but his features were kind and open and you decided immediately that you liked him. You turned back to the naga with whom you’d been sharing tea and easy conversation, and shrugged. “Guess I’ve been summoned. See you later.”

She nodded and hissed, “Good luck…” at you and you followed the young scholar out of the parlour. His large hooves clopped conspicuously on the stone of the passageways and he set quite the pace for you to keep up with.

“Are you… like… Avery’s… assistant or something? I’m sorry, I don’t know the technical names…”

He nodded. “Name’s D-Devon,” he said as he ducked left through a doorway and held it open for you to follow. “Apprentice m-mmage and runec-c-caster.”

“Sweet,” you said, impressed. “I studied some very basic runes for another project a long time ago, but I’m not really magical in any way, so… I didn’t pursue it. Is it as complicated as I remember?”

He smiled sweetly and shrugged. “Varies…”

You smirked and said, “That sounds like you’re being modest and generous, but I’ll let it slide. What does Avery need from me anyway?”

With a soft chuckle, Devon pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and shrugged, beginning to climb a tight, spiral staircase. “Nnnot sure. They’ve been di-di-distracted all morning.”

“Guess I’ll just have to find out. I’ve never been up to the mage’s tower.”

The staircase went on and on forever and you actually had to stop for breath twice, rather embarrassingly. Devon was fitter than his scholar’s physique suggested, but he didn’t comment. You supposed doing this every day would build up anyone’s cardiovascular system in no time. “The view had better be worth it,” you grunted as you started up the last stretch of spiral staircase, and Devon nodded.

“Oh, it is.”

“Thank all the gods,” you hissed.

The door to Avery’s study was open, letting light flood in from the room beyond. For some reason, you’d imagined it would be dark and intimidating, and possibly full of bats and spiderwebs and creepy cursed objects in display cabinets, but theirs was a chamber full of bright light and warm colours. Taking half a moment to catch your breath again, you paused on the threshold while Devon headed on inside with evident and easy familiarity to inform Avery that he’d found you.

“Ah wonderful,” came that papery voice from inside. As you heard it, you wondered how a skeleton - with no vocal cords - could produce sound, deciding to chalk it up to magic and move on. “Thank you, Devon. Would you mind running over the plans for the layline ritual one more time while we have a quick chat?”

“Nnnnot at all,” Devon smiled, and disappeared into another room out of sight.

The delicate tread of footsteps on the bare floorboards announced Avery’s approach, and you stepped inside, not wanting to be seen to be lurking nervously. “Hi,” you breathed, still a tiny bit winded, as they moved into view around the huge trestle table that occupied the centre of the room. It was littered with books and pieces of velum, scrolls, and ancient clay tablets, all stacked at frankly alarming and precarious angles.

“Hello,” Avery said with a real warmth in their voice. You could hear the smile, even if they had no lips to form the gesture. “I apologise for making you come all the way up here. I realise it’s a long way from your usual quarters and duties.”

It was true - the library was in an entirely different wing of the rambling old citadel, and your sleeping quarters were again on the far side of that from the tower.

You shrugged. “It’s nice to see a new bit of the castle, I suppose.”

They tilted their head, the movement almost birdlike. “You haven’t seen all of it?” they asked.

You shook your head. “Only the bits I need to. Besides, I’ve only been here a couple of months now.” And in that time, you’d seen Avery almost every day at your library desk. “What did you need me for?” you asked with no small degree of incredulity in your voice.

With a little chuckle that honestly sounded a little nervous, Avery turned to a small writing desk that was tucked up against the stone wall beside a window with a spectacular view. They picked up a scroll and undid the ribbon that held it together, and you found your eyes fascinated by the tiny finger bones of their hands. You wondered what they’d feel like against your skin and flushed hot again, unable to look Avery in the face.

“This is a copy of an inscription that was found in a tomb just north west of here, and while I am familiar with the writing system used, I cannot crack the meaning of it. I’m sure it’s right there, but… I wondered, since you mentioned you’d studied the Early Peoples, if you might take a look at it for me?”

You blinked. “You can’t read it?”

“I can read it,” they said, “But I don’t understand the words. I know the symbols upon which the language is based, but not the language itself.”

“I thought there was nothing you didn’t know,” you murmured fondly as you stepped over and took the parchment from their extraordinarily delicate looking hand. The urge to touch grew once more almost overwhelming.

A soft snort of laughter almost in your ear sent shivers down your whole right side, the skin prickling into goosebumps. “Please,” they scoffed good-naturedly. “Besides, if I knew everything already, I wouldn’t need to make such frequent trips to the library, would I?”

“And here I thought you were coming all the way down there just to visit me,” you quipped self-effacingly, turning your attention to the inscription and missing they way they went completely still before shaking their head ever so slightly.

It took longer than your pride might have liked for you to figure it all out, and you sent Avery scuttling about their office for three different dictionaries and half a dozen grammar tables before you were happy that you’d got it right. Devon had long ago excused himself for the evening, but you’d barely even noticed him leaving, though the murmur of their soft conversation had drifted around you for quite some time while you teased out a bit of odd grammar.

When you looked up at last, you found Avery standing alone by the window, bathed in the rosy light of sunset. The rich, warm rays made the black of their robes seem dull and almost drab - humble beyond what you’d have expected of a court mage with the coffers of the castle at their fingertips - and the angle of the light blazing into their face almost eclipsed the green, misty glow in their eye sockets. For just a moment, they almost looked like nothing more than an ordinary skeleton in an anatomy lab. When they felt your gaze on them, however, they turned - every bone animated and shifting fluidly, bone scraping with a soft, familiar whisper over bone.

They cocked their head again and you smiled. “All done, I think,” you said, standing from where you’d been hunched over the small, cluttered writing desk, and cracking the tension out of your neck with a grunt.

“Thank you,” they murmured. “I am indebted to you yet again, it would seem.”

You shrugged. “What’s it for anyway?” you asked. “I mean… I don’t really see how knowing that the sun will hit the back of the tomb on the winter solstice is of much use to anyone…”

They gave another little movement of their head that seemed like a pout to you, though you had only the bare skull to go from. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure. The tomb contained artefacts that thrummed with energy, so it would indicate that the Early Peoples had access to - and some degree of control over - magic too. Perhaps that date was of significance to them too. I will have to return to the site on the solstice to find out. Then we’ll know if it was of any ‘use’ as you say, or if it’s just interesting.”

“I see,” you said and your stomach chose that moment to growl at you like a spoiled house cat.

“Would… Would you like to stay here for some supper? I can have food brought up here to my chambers if you’ve missed out…” they said awkwardly, turning away from the window and back towards the central trestle table. As they moved the line of gilded sunlight slid from their delicate brow bones and plunged their skull into shadow again behind the hood. You’d never seen them without it raised. “It’s… later than I realised…”

“I’d have thought you could just magic some food up for me,” you grinned, honestly hoping it would disguise the fluttering nerves you felt at the thought of sharing a meal up here. Plus, their tone had gone inexplicably sad somehow.

They looked down at the table and said, “I could do that, of course, but transmuted food tastes awful, or… so I’ve been told. I don’t eat any more for… obvious reasons.”

“Do you miss it?” you blurted.

They stilled and trailed a bony fingertip across the wood. “Yes and no. I miss the pleasure that eating my favourite things brought me.”

“You still remember the taste…?”

Fixing you with a steady, if sidelong, look, they said, “I’m not that old, you know?”

“I…” you said and then stopped when they started laughing. “What?”

“I have to admit that I find it immensely entertaining any time someone assumes I’m a thousand years old. I’m not. I’m only thirty.”

“Thirty?” you gawped. “That’s… That’s so young to —” again, you cut yourself off before you said something truly insensitive, but Avery didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m used to it. And it is indeed young to have your physical form completely stripped bare in exchange for unfathomable magical power. It’s not a choice made lightly, and it’s not a choice that everyone would be prepared to make. It’s rare these days for someone to undergo it willingly.”

Horrified, you blinked at them. “Willingly? You mean it’s inflicted on people?”

They shrugged. “Rarely. It’s hard to control a person’s soul like that, but with the right runes on the phylactery, it can be done. Mercifully, that wasn’t the case with me though, and if you’re caught, the punishment is severe.”

“So… how does someone so young get the position of court mage?”

With another rasping laugh like dry autumn leaves, Avery said, “As opposed to someone so old and experienced, you mean?”

You shrugged, still kind of mute with surprise at the new revelation, and they laughed again. “Sorry.”

“I went to university with the princess. We became friends, and she saw what I could do. I was still an elf then though.”

“You’re… You’re an elf?”

“I’m a lich,” they corrected, “But yes, I was an elf when I was officially alive. Did my short stature and particularly fine wrist bones not give it away?” they joked self-deprecatingly, proffering their pale wrist towards you to examine.

When you actually reached out and touched them, however, a spark like static jumped between you and you both gasped.

“Excuse me,” they gasped, withdrawing their hand immediately. “I… That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“What was it?” you asked, rubbing your fingertips and thumb together where the skin tingled. It hadn’t hurt, and it left your entire body tingling all over beneath the skin, and heat was rapidly pooling between your legs.

“My magic,” they said. “It’s usually not as forward and ill-mannered as that. I apologise if it startled you.”

“Forward? Ill-mannered?” you asked, amused and intrigued. “You say that like magic has a personality…”

“It does,” the lich sighed, the bones of their ribs creaking softly.

While, academically speaking, you knew what any elven skeleton looked like, you still ached to know the exact shape of Avery beneath the black robes that draped shapelessly over them; the exact way their bones fitted together; the exact colour; any breaks they’d sustained, leaving the evidence in their skeleton… “Alright, but why… ‘forward’?”

“And here I thought I was being terribly obvious,” they muttered.

“Obvious?”

A tilt of their head in your direction served perfectly as a rueful glance, the ardour behind it striking you in the chest with an alarmingly painful pang, and exactly as it occurred to you that you’d learned to read Avery pretty well by now, you also realised precisely what they’d been insinuating. “Oh…” you said, imbuing the sound with significance.

“Oh indeed,” they said bitterly. “Never mind. I quite understand that the attentions of a lich are not… not what everyone would aspire to after all… I apologise if… if I made you uncomfortable. I will not persist.”

“Wait, slow down,” you said, stepping forward suddenly and trying to catch their gaze with your eyes. It was hard to tell where they were really looking, given that all you had to go on was the rough direction of their head and the soft glow in their otherwise empty eye sockets, but when you got the impression that they were looking directly at you, you spoke up. “I’m sorry,” you began.

“Don’t be sorry,” they hissed, trying to turn away.

“No, wait, that’s not… that’s not what I meant!” Finding you had no choice, you reached out and latched onto their wrist. The bones beneath the long fabric of the sleeves felt so achingly fragile that you almost recoiled for fear of hurting them, but you made your fingers loosen just a fraction and stayed put. You needn’t have worried anyway; Avery was tethered and still at your touch in a heartbeat. “I mean, I am sorry, but I’m sorry for being dense, not that you… you know…”

“That I’ve been so poorly attempting to flirt with you for the last month?” they finished dryly.

“Now that I know, why don’t we start over…?” you said, releasing them and smiling hopefully.

Adopting a truly sarcastic pose and tone, they held out their skeletal hand and said nastily, “I’m Avery, I’m a lich, and I’m apparently an appallingly poor flirt.” The ugliness in their voice was not directed at you, however. Avery had turned it back on themselves and it galled you to hear someone so brilliant sound so defeated.

Unflinchingly, you took their hand and stared fiercely back at the lich who had become your friend in these first months at the castle, and perhaps something more. “I didn’t mean to start over that far back, but I’ll play your game.” You added your own name and profession, that you were human, and finished by saying, “And I’m very much open to being flirted with by you, however poorly you think you do it.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Avery said, their thumb playing back and forth over your skin before promptly changing the subject. “You never did answer me about dinner though. Would you like to stay here and eat? Or would my not partaking make you uncomfortable?”

Sensing that they needed a moment’s diversion, you allowed them to skirt around the issue of being interested in you, and shook your head. “Dinner here with you sounds lovely. Plus the view is spectacular.”

“I knew it. You want me for my advantageous chambers,” they moaned, still deflecting defensively.

“I meant that there’s something to keep you occupied while you wait for me to finish, that’s all,” you huffed in response to their teasing. “But if the view bores you by now, I’m sure you could always read to me from some dusty old volume you’ve nicked from the library and neglected to return…”

“You wound me!” they said, placing both hands over their heart, or at least, where their heart would have been if they weren’t just a skeleton anymore. “Is there anything you don’t eat? Would you like wine?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good with most things, as far as I know, and…” you bit your lip and then reluctantly admitted that actually a glass of wine might be really nice. Your salary was not so meagre that you couldn’t afford a drink or two in the local taverns, but you suspected a wine from the castle cellars might be a little more special.

Instead of ringing for a servant, Avery picked up a quill and a small piece of paper, and dictated their message aloud after a quick flick of their wrist had brought the quill to life. It skimmed across the page like a breeze-blown willow branch trailing through a pond, and as you watched, you wondered if that was what Avery’s handwriting looked like, or whether the script was a result of magic, or the quill itself. Either way, it was beautiful, and you suddenly thought of the rather romantic notion of having love letters penned to you in that hand…

Their voice turned more confident as they dictated the note to the quill. “I am entertaining a guest in my tower tonight. Please have a fine supper for one brought up to the mage’s tower at your earliest convenience, with a bottle of Aktissian red too, if you please.”

“Avery!” you gasped, recognising the quality of the wine purely from it’s location.

They shrugged and finished off the note with another brief gesture, and you watched as it disappeared with a little pop. “I like to dictate my messages in case the person on the other end cannot read. Not all of the castle staff have been blessed with our educations, after all. In such a case, it will read itself aloud.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” you commented.

They shrugged. “It saves me sending Devon, or going myself and terrifying the wits out of the kitchen staff, or ringing for someone to trudge all the way up here, only to have to go back and return later…” It seemed odd to you now that Avery could be frightening to anyone, but you recalled your own unease at your first encounter, and merely smiled at them again.

Wherever the note had gone, it must have reached the right ears, because twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at Avery’s door and a castle servant entered with a large tray.

“Thank you so much,” Avery said as the half-orc set the meal down on the table.

“Anything else you need, mage?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.”

You chimed in with your own thanks and the servant left.

Avery waved a hand at the table where they’d cleared a space amid the chaos of stationary and books, and you sat yourself down. They lifted the lid of the silver cloche and revealed a beautiful supper that looked fit for the princess’ high table. Eyeing Avery, you caught a little glint in their glowing eye sockets, and you assumed that they were pleased too.

In fact, Avery did not read to you while you ate, but they did watch you rather intently. “You’re going to make me all self-conscious,” you muttered. “This is delicious though.”

“Would you rather I not watch you?”

“No,” you said honestly. “I’m just not used to such… intense attention…”

“You’re gorgeous,” they murmured awkwardly, voice rich and husky, as though their magic was crackling uncontrollably beneath the surface.

After a pause, during which you encouraged your heart to beat normally, and the poor organ took absolutely no heed of your pleas whatsoever, you said, “So are you…”

If Avery could have rolled their eyes, you were sure they would have. Instead, they just pressed their hands to the table and leaned back in their chair. “I’m just a pile of bones and magic now… I’m honestly surprised you permitted me the indulgence of courting you.”

“It’s not an indulgence, Avery. Well, maybe it is, but it’s an indulgence for me. Each visit you’ve paid to the library has left me in quite a state, I’ll have you know.”

The lich went still at that and then very slowly tilted their head to one side. “Oh?” they asked, voice dipping lower with obvious intrigue. “Care to explain that?”

With a half smile, you set down your cutlery on your empty plate and pushed back a little way from the table to make yourself more comfortable. Crossing your legs, you said archly, “Any time you come close to me, you leave me tingling all over. I don’t know if it’s your magic, or you, or what, but… When you were leaning over my shoulder back there —” you nodded over at the writing desk, memories of their right hand pressed to the wood as they peered over your shoulder at your progress, the heady scent of incense and ozone swirling around their robes, the particular timbre of their voice as they hummed in thoughtful understanding at your translation…

“Yes?” they prompted, voice cracking.

Heat coiled between your legs and in your lower body, slowly filling you with a warm, glowing sensation that shot up your spine and made your head spin. “I could hardly think,” you whispered. “It’s a miracle I finished the translation.”

The light in their eyes guttered and flickered before returning with a new, brighter intensity. Where before it had been a pale, pastel green, it now burned with a searingly hot blue.

“Avery?”

The lich sat there and stared at you before twitching their head and shoulders a little. “Forgive me. We… We probably shouldn’t move that quickly…”

You raised your eyebrows. “How quickly?”

“Quickly,” they said. “You deserve to be courted properly.”

“And what if I’m as impatient as you are?” you asked, heart pounding. Gods, you wanted whatever they had to give you and you wanted it now. You ached, inside and out. “It wouldn’t stop you from still ‘courting’ me if you wanted…”

Avery stood and then stalled. “I…” They growled softly in frustration and started again. “I am… I haven’t… not since…”

“Avery… I know what you are. I know what you must look like under that robe, and I still want you,” you said fiercely.

“Gods,” they hissed, turning to face you, eyes blazing blue.

“Your eyes?” you asked. “They’ve changed colour. Is that your magic?”

They nodded. “What… What would you like from me?”

“Touch me,” you said honestly.

“I can conjure… uh… a variety of physical… um… shapes…” they faltered awkwardly and your brain supplied the rest, but they raised one hand and you found that where the bones had been before, they now supported a ghostly hand. They turned it over to show you their palm and then flipped it over again. You could still see the bones through the spectral hand that moved like translucent, living glass.

You shook your head, “Come here,” you said, and they did.

You stood up and ignored their new spectral hand in favour of running one fingertip around the orbital bones of their skull. Avery shuddered, joints rattling audibly beneath the robes as it shivered down their whole skeleton.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked. “Could you create… a tongue for me?”

With a mute nod, looking stunned, Avery opened their jaw and you saw a glowing, green tongue inside, translucent and glistening.

Pressing your lips to their teeth felt odd at first, especially when the cool of that single silver tooth caught your lips, but when the tongue immediately lapped at your lips, begging entry, you forgot the strangeness of it. You came alive again beneath that kiss as Avery’s hands found their way to your waist and then up to the back of your head where they let their bony fingers snake through your hair before gripping you tightly and tugging until you pulled back with a gasp. Panting and dizzy you let Avery nip at your exposed neck, tongue occasionally laving at your skin, shockingly cool and leaving it tingling.

One of Avery’s hands palmed your groin questioningly and your knees nearly went out from beneath you. “Yes,” you gasped. “Oh gods, please… I want… touch me… please…”

Your chest heaved and you let them steer you back into your chair behind you. When you landed, they tenderly began to undo your waistband, and you lifted your hips to slide a little way free of your clothes. Avery’s eyes blazed as they stared at you, your arousal evident with your clothes around your ankles. “May I use this…?” they asked, opening their mouth to reveal that long, thick, prehensile tongue.

“Gods yes,” you blurted, lifting your hips weakly again. “Please… Avery… I need you…”

The lich knelt before you and hesitantly placed their skeletal hands on your thighs. Looking down at them, nestled between your legs, you felt like you could come just from that sight alone.

“I’m not going to last long,” you warned them, practically shivering with arousal. “Gods… Avery, you’re…” Whatever Avery was to you in that moment, you never got the chance to tell them.

The instant their tongue touched you, lapping teasingly at you to start with, magic and sensation roared through you, ripping along your nerves and wiping your mind blank of all but intense pleasure. The slickness of their conjured tongue, supple and almost like a tentacle as it pleasured you, and the coolness of the mouth behind, set against the firm, unyielding pressure of their bare bones digging into the muscle of your thighs hard enough that it would bruise, drove you to the quivering edge in minutes.

Your hands scrabbled helplessly at the arms of the chair, your hips bucked unbidden up into the sensations Avery was offering you, fire danced along your nerves, and your blood sang in your ears. “Avery!” you screamed in warning, and then, with one final flick and press of their tongue against your most sensitive spot, you shattered.

With your mind blank, vision dark, Avery tore your release from you and prolonged it, either with their magic or just by their presence, until you whimpered and slumped in the chair, limp and spent and ironically boneless.

Finally, after lingering just a little longer, Avery sat back on their heels and stared up at you, one hand still on your quivering thigh. “Beautiful,” they rasped. “Gods above and below, but you come so beautifully.”

“I’ve never… come like that,” you croaked, throat raw. Had you come so hard you’d made yourself hoarse?

Avery summoned a goblet of water from the table to their hand and stood. “Here,” they said.

You drank, and as you set the goblet shakily back on the table, you glanced at them and saw a glistening droplet slide down their exposed ankle bone and drip onto the floor. Seeing where your gaze had gone, they chuckled. “Am I expected to remain unaffected by what you just gave me?” they said archly as you did your own clothes up again, just enough not to be completely exposed any more.

“How…? What…?” You began, but then shook your head and leaned forwards. Tentatively, you reached out a hand for the front of their cross-over robes and unbuttoned them at the waist. Drawing the fabric slowly aside, you felt them tense, but you kept going and they permitted it.

As the final fitting came loose, the robes hung open like a coat and revealed their skeleton beneath. To your surprise, they were not merely an empty ribcage and spine, hollow pelvis and slender leg bones. Constantly swirling inside them like a mixture of phosphorescence and ink, was a kind of magical core. Like an entity all of its own, it pulsed and coiled, writhing with tendrils of light and darkness that played along their ribs and teased up their spine like ivy. “Gods, Avery, you’re stunning,” you murmured and looked up to find their face tilted downwards, regarding you carefully.

Your eyes roved down their body to their pelvis, where the phosphorescent light seemed to have coalesced, spiralling around their hip bone like swirling liquid in a glass and… dripping tangibly down their leg.

“Can I… touch it?” you asked and they nodded. There was a long drip of it running down their femur almost to the knee, so you brought your fingertip up and trailed it cautiously through the strange, glowing wetness. “Is it magic?” you asked as your finger went numb and then began to tingle rather enticingly. Gods, what would that feel like against your body… even… inside you? Now there was an unexpected thought.

“It’s… akin to… oh gods,” they hissed suddenly, their hand flying to your shoulder as you traced a circle through it on the very edge of their curving hipbone.

“Mmm?” you asked, not relenting but not moving anywhere else.

Struggling to form words, Avery tried again. “Akin to when a ghost becomes corporeal.”

“Your magic is coalescing like ectoplasm?”

“In a way, oh… oh… ohhhh,” they moaned, staggering as you moved further up the wide scoop of their hip bone towards their spine and back again. “I can’t… I can’t keep upright… if you do that again… I’ll fall… I…”

“You want to move somewhere else?” you asked and they nodded.

Turning and leading you unsteadily without a word towards a closed door that led off from the study, Avery showed you to their bedroom and then hesitated, as though unsure as to quite what you wanted with them now that you had then naked.

“Bed?” you asked and they nodded, encouraged.

The fact that they seemed to be waiting for you to balk and run stung, but it made you more determined than ever to show them pleasure. Especially since they’d apparently not been with anyone since becoming a lich.

“Tell me what you like best,” you said.

“Your touch,” they blurted immediately.

“Alright,” you said with a tiny laugh. That was a start. “Lie back then.”

They lay down on the dark green blankets of the neatly made bed, their robes pooling behind them like ink, and stared up at you as you followed and sank down beside them.

Watching that swirling magical core for a moment, you reached out and traced their wrist first, working up to their shoulder, and then to that ever-present smile on their bare skull. The light in their eyes now burned a softer blue, occasionally flaring to the intense cobalt you’d seen before when you skimmed a particularly sensitive spot, and their jaw worked as if they were panting and gasping but couldn’t summon the magic to make the sounds.

The storm of essence in their ribcage swirled and crackled, tiny forks of lightning dancing through the clouds where their heart would have been, and you watched their spine flex and arch. The bones of their hands clenched the sheets into balls and as you moved lower and lower down their enchanted body, you watched the phosphorescent light begin to condense again as it hit their bones, running down in thick, slow rivulets to pool in the fabric of their robes, leaving only glittering, darker patches behind.

“Where’s most intense?” you asked, assuming you knew already. The point where the two halves of their pelvis met at the centre proved to be extremely sensitive, and as you ran your finger around it, they lurched wildly, the magic in their chest flaring and sparking again. “There?”

“Yes,” they gasped.

The magic began to grow, solidify, and as you circled the cool bone of their lower pelvis, a long, thick tentacle of magic coiled out of it and wrapped around your hand. It was real and tangible, corporeal, and slick as sin. “Avery,” you moaned as it clenched tightly around your wrist like an octopus’ limb.

“Want you,” they said. In the next moment, the tentacle released you and coiled back on itself, creating a soft passage inside them. Taking advantage of this, you slid two fingers into the channel and crooked them against the solid wall of pulsing magic.

Avery yelled with pleasure, spine arching again like a bow at full draw, magic expanding out through their ribs like a storm cloud, unable to be contained. Pressing hard against their walls, you rubbed intense and tiny circles while the magic flared and reached for your hand in return.

Flowing back and forth like waves of the ocean, Avery’s pleasure enveloped you and you felt it in your own mind as suddenly and as keenly as if it were your own. Their magic was reaching out for you and you allowed the connection without hesitation.

“I’m so close,” Avery whimpered, body taut and thrumming.

“I can feel it,” you whispered.

At that, Avery chanted, “I’m… Oh gods, there, like that… I’m… I’m going to… I can’t hold back any more… I…”

“Come for me, Avery,” you begged, and they broke.

Tendrils of black shadow shot out from their body like vines, filling the corner of the room and staying there like webs, while the core of their magic pulsed and throbbed, blazing with blue light. Liquid magic rolled over your hand as they came and came, body undulating and heaving, jaw open wide in a rictus of pleasure. The sight of it was almost enough to make you come too, but instead you simply stared at the magic you’d brought out and the pleasure you’d wrought in them.

Eventually, the black tendrils evaporated into a fine mist and vanished altogether, and the cloud of roiling magic settled down again and retreated back within Avery’s ribcage. The phosphorescent magic lingered on your skin, however, and as you moved to lie down beside them, you slid your hand down the waistband of your clothes and touched yourself with it still on your skin.

Avery was barely able to turn their head to watch as you brought yourself to another blinding orgasm, but their fingertips brushed against your free wrist just as you neared your second peak and you tumbled over the edge with a grunt and their name on your lips.

In the aftermath, you both lay there for a long time before either of you moved. Swallowing, you turned to look at them and found that the light in their eyes had gone back to green again, though this time it was dark and almost imperceptible. “Avery? You alright?” you asked.

They hummed softly in response. “Tired,” they admitted. “That… That was a lot of magic. I didn’t expect…” they huffed a laugh.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, horrified.

“No,” they smiled, gripping your fingers in theirs for a moment before they lost the strength and went limp. “Quite the contrary. But I’m spent, in more ways than one.”

“Sorry…?” you ventured and they laughed. “Can I stay?” you added.

“Of course,” they replied. “I’m right in the middle of the bed, aren’t I? Do you have enough room?”

“I could use a little more, but if I lie on my side, I can manage alright.”

“I can’t even lift a finger at the moment,” they admitted. “I’m sorry. If you need me to move, you’ll have to lift me yourself.”

The vulnerability they were offering you struck you deeply. “Alright,” you said. “You sure you don’t mind?”

The tiniest shake of their head was all they could muster.

Sliding your arm beneath their neck and your other behind their knees, you tentatively raised them and nearly gasped at how light they were.

As if sensing your surprise, Avery managed a dry chuckle. “Elf, remember? Bones of a bird…”

You set them back down on the further pillow and nestled in beside them. “Can I put my head on your shoulder?” you asked.

“It won’t be comfortable. Bring a cushion over…” they whispered, nodding at the other side of the room where a modest chaise longue, upholstered in what looked like silk, sat against the wall, adorned with a couple of dainty pillows. The sight made you smile for some reason, and you took the opportunity to clean up a little at a washstand in the corner of the room. When you returned with a cushion, you found that the light was completely extinguished from their skull.

The magic still swirled away inside their chest, and as you laid the pillow down on their shoulder and watched their core shifting lazily - contentedly - you found yourself following them into a blank and blissful sleep.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

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#lich #exophilia #lich x reader #non binary monster #gender neutral reader #reader x monster #monster x reader

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fandomlurker · 3 years

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A Ponderous Rewatch: Pavlov’s Mice and Cameo

So thanks to Tumblr nerfing my ability to make an admittedly absurdly long post combining the previous episode rewatch with this one, I had to do this entry in two parts.

But at least now we’re in for the real treat: The first episode in airing order that’s animated by TMS Entertainment. And hey, even the Animaniacs show itself seems to acknowledge that this is special, because theme song rhyme is…

We're Animanie! Totally insane-y!~

Pinky and the Brainy!~

…which hasn’t been done since their debut. So this is gonna be fun.

Might as well get this out of the way, then, since this episode obviously involves Ivan Pavlov. I think most people who know of Pavlov through cultural osmosis pretty much know him as just “that one scientist who got dogs to respond to the sound of bells as if they were being offered food”. This is what happened, but it’s only part of the story. In reality, Ivan Pavlov was doing research on the physiology of digestion in dogs and he noticed one day that the dogs he was studying started to drool in the mere presence of the lab technician who regularly fed them even if the technician didn’t have food with them. Pavlov developed a way to redirect the dogs’ digestive juices outside of the body so that they could be measured, and then he ran some conditioning experiments to see if he could get them to salivate in response to external stimuli that had nothing to do with food, like ringing a bell.

The year in the title card, 1904, was the year Ivan Pavlov was awarded the Nobel Prize for the previously mentioned experiments, which he published the results of in “The Work of the Digestive Glands” in 1897. Basically, by 1904 he was done with his work with dogs and he moved on to experimenting with mice…at least according to this article in National Geographic by Virgina Hughes.

With that, let’s begin the episode proper.

“At the dawn of the 20th century, Russian scientist, Ivan Pavlov, trained animals through his technique of conditioned reflex” says the narrator as we zoom in on a laboratory with Pavlov and our lovable mouse duo.

“Time to earn your dinner, my little mousey friends!”

It’s interesting how Pinky is the one that flinches uncomfortably at the loud sound of the gong while Brain simply snaps into his conditioned response. And that response? Uhhh…

“I’m a little teapot, short and stout.~”

“This is my handle, this is my spout.~”

(Is he…you know…?)

“When I get all steamed up, hear me shout!~”

“Tip me over and pour me out.~”

Oh no… This is a cute and funny scene and all, but when you know about Brain’s canonical issues with how he hates not being in control of a situation and all the traumas he’s endured (for those of you not in the know, yes, Brain does have a lot of trauma in his backstory that we learn about much later, both in the 90s spin-off and the reboot) regarding both general control and losing family and friends…there’s a bitter tinge to this scene.

He’s so embarrassed and humiliated.

He takes the cheese but he is positively fuming with rage, and I can’t exactly blame him from what I know about him.

This is made all the worse by Pinky’s innocent reaction to Brain’s little song and dance.

“Hahahahaha! Wonderful! Hahaha! EGAD, Brain, I could watch you do that dance all day! Haha, narf!”

For Pinky, this is harmless silliness and he gets to see Brain sing and dance and “have fun”, which is not a usual occurrence. But for Brain? Well...

“You have watched it all day, Pinky. Sixty-one times, to be exact. It’s a conditioned reflex to that infernal gong.”

“I’m powerless to stop it!”

Well, Brain, at the very least it’s not like you were a part of a more inhumane experiment like one regarding, say, learned helplessness or anything. …Oh wait. Whoops. (For those sensitive to animal abuse, I suggest refraining from clicking on the second link, and caution against clicking on the first if even more clinical text descriptions of such would upset you. The third link is spoilers for the reboot.)

All that aside, it seems like it’s Pinky’s turn. He gets the more traditional bell chime for his stimulus.

And the result is him going into an uncontrollable and very enthusiastic Slavic folk dance.

With violent results. I hope you appreciate that last screencap, as the animation goes by so quickly I had a lot of trouble isolating the part where Pinky kicks Brain and he goes flying.

Pinky is all too happy to get a reward of cheese, his favourite food, for doing something that he has no memory of.

“What’cha doin’ over there, Brain?”

“Contemplating your afterlife, Pinky.”

That’s not exactly fair, Brain, you know he has no control over this. To Brain’s credit, though, he doesn’t bop him or anything for kicking him involuntarily.

Pavlov leaves, playfully saying that he hopes the mice dream of cheese tonight, and the mice are immediately down to business.

“At last, he’s gone.”

“Now we can begin our conquest of the world!”

We’re already back to it being “our” conquest of the world, eh?

“Behold my latest creation, Pinky: The Vacuum-o-nator.”

Brain has never been good with naming things, has he? At least, not so far. I wonder if this will continue throughout the franchise?

Pinky is certainly very happy and impressed, though.

“It uses reverse air pressure to vacuum everything toward it.”

You know, I was just about to roast Brain for thinking that making a very odd version of a vacuum cleaner was such a brilliant thing, but then I remembered that this takes place in 1904. The vacuum cleaner as we know it was “invented independently by British engineer Hubert Cecil Booth and American inventor David T. Kenney” in 1901 according to Wikipedia, and portable vacuums were available to the general public starting in 1905.My apologies, Brain, that actually is very impressive.

Although, this all hinges on if the viewer considers episodes that take place in the past and/or at different locations than Acme Labs California to be mere Alternate Universe/What If? stories or Brain and Pinky using some kind of time machine to go to a different place and time for these episodes. (Before you tell me that this is just a cartoon and sicc the Please, Please Get a Life Foundation on me, I do this to have fun and maybe educate myself and the reader along the way. I promise I have a life. Barely.)

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

“Uhh… Yeah, Brain! But where are we gonna find rubber pants our size?”

Pinky, that’s… Listen, folks, don’t make the same mistake I did and google “rubber pants”. It’s not what you think it is. You will be disappointed.

BONK!

Seems like you’re enjoying yourself there, Pinky.

“No, Pinky. We’re going to use the Vacuum-o-nator to steal Russia’s crown jewels!”

Man, the animation for even this one small proclamation by Brain is so, so good. Brain standing authoritatively and holding the pen like a scepter or spear, the grand sweep of his arm as he says “no”, the serious and slightly menacing expression on his face, a violent and grabby swing of his arm on the word “steal”, and a dramatic point and look up towards the sky when he finishes. TMS does great work, folks.

“Narf! Genius, Brain!”

Look at Brain’s satisfied smile at Pinky’s simple compliment. Remember what I said earlier about Brain going through his explanations to show off to and impress Pinky? At this point I’m absolutely convinced that that’s why Brain turns up the theatrics more than necessary when going through his plans. After all, Pinky is (oddly and rather sadly) the only one in-universe who thinks Brain is a genius and a good person.

…Of course, the effect can sometimes be lessened by subsequent innocent bumbling.

“Turn it off, Pinky.”

He says this so exasperatedly yet so deadpan at the same time, it’s great.

“Oh! Right-o!”

Even Pinky immediately knows that he fucked up.

“Zort! Whew! Wild hairdo, Brain! Heh heh, I like it.”

He even pets Brain’s “hairdo”, aww. And though I personally could take or leave the ‘do, I like the pointed, sharp look this mishap’s given to his ears.

BONK!

“Now I feel cleansed.”

Okay, this one might have been a little too much, Brain.

“But Brain, aren’t the crown jewels always guarded by giant Cossacks?”

Well, Pinky, from what I know Cossacks were usually used extensively in the police force and as border guards during this time, so I guess that’s possible?

Brain picking the lock with the pen is a fun little detail.

“Don’t worry about the guards… For tonight, Pinky, at precisely 1 am, there’s a total lunar eclipse. “

Again, this is probably not a thing the average person could look up quickly and easily in the 90s and the writers most likely didn’t care about accuracy here, but there were no total lunar eclipses in 1904. There were some penumbral lunar eclipses in March and September of that year, though. Just a fun fact for you folks.

“The Earth’s shadow will completely cover the moon, blacking out all of St. Petersburg for a period of 30 seconds.”

Brain…?!? Brain, how did you get the diagram on that piece of paper to animate like that? What kind of Harry Potter-style magic bullshit is this?

I know this is a cartoon and all and I’m not truly upset but this honestly came out of nowhere and made me do a double-take.

“In that brief time, we will sneak past the Czar’s guards under the cover of darkness and steal the crown jewels…for he who controls the jewels controls Mother Russia!”

More dramatics!

“But…I thought your mother’s name was Désirée?”

I love Brain’s pose here. Very grumpy and sassy.

As for Pinky’s comment: We do get to meet Brain’s parents way later in the spin-off, though neither are addressed by any name. I’m taking this joke as canon anyway because it’s funny.

Well, well, well… Looks like we’re shaking things up a bit with an inking instead of a bonk. That’s gonna be a pain to get out of his white fur, though.

“Soon, Pinky, I will rule Russia…so from now on, call me Czar.”

Another sassy hand-on-hip pose.

“Right-o, Brain!”

“—eek! Czar Brain!”

“Come along, Pinky… Conquest awaits!”

Nice to know that despite the inking, Pinky’s still following him anyway. Plus he’s doing it with that fond look on his face again. Hmm…

What follows is a cute and ingenious sequence of Brain launching Pinky and himself through an open window via the spring force of a mousetrap. It goes by very quickly, but I just wanted to highlight a few things I managed to notice while pausing through it. Kudos to the animators again for these little details.

Pinky’s the one that wraps one arm around Brain’s shoulders so that Brain has both hands free to spring the mousetrap properly and so that they’ll be launched together.

Interestingly enough, Pinky’s the cautious one who braces for impact right away while Brain gleefully flies through the air with his arms outstretched.

The “camera” changes perspective and while Brain is still boldly flying forward with confidence, Pinky is still worried but has now opened his eyes as they fly towards the window.

Pinky’s still holding onto Brain and the Vacuum-o-nator as tight as he can. As they get closer to the window, however…

…Pinky seems to realize he’s going to smash into the wall above the window if he doesn’t let go, so he lets go of Brain. Brain doesn’t realize where his trajectory is taking him.

Pinky angles himself downward and through the open window, but it’s too late for Brain.

WHAM! RIP, Brain.

But his pain is not done! It looks like Pinky’s landing was in the soft snow. Meanwhile, Brain slides down onto the window and through the opening, only to bash into the lid of a garbage can, much to Pinky’s concern.

Then Brain falls headfirst into the snow.

And finally, Brain is clonked on the head by the same garbage can lid, which makes a loud gong noise. Someone get this poor mouse some Aspirin.

But since there was a gong noise, you all know what that means!

Cutely, Pinky joins in on the dance in the middle of it.

“Ha! Oh that was fun, Czar Brain! But let’s give it another go, right? Only this time with feeling!”

Man, that side-eye at the beginning from Brain…

Pinky’s body language is great in this episode, too. The gleeful flapping of his arms and feet and the “with feeling” gesture are fantastic examples of his more open and energetic nature coming through.

Oh hey, there’s that one shot of Brain being ticked off used in the spin-off theme song! I can’t exactly blame him for his anger here. He just went through a lot of pain in a short amount of time and was then involuntarily made to humiliate himself. Pinky doesn’t mean to be mean here—he genuinely wants to have some sing and dance fun with Brain—but it’s gotta sting to have the humiliation highlighted.

Pinky still doesn’t deserve a bonking for it, though. But it’s slapstick, so he’s fine.

Heh, “deliveries to rear” indeed.

Oh, are those jingle bells on a sleigh that I see?

Uh oh…

“No, Pinky… Not now!”

It cannot be stopped, Brain. He must dance!

Another quick detail as Brain launches himself at Pinky’s midsection to either topple him over or hold him still to get Pinky to stop.

Alas, Pinky’s dancing is too strong.

OUCH!

The face of regret.

His punishment is swiftly thwarted, though.

“…That was unpleasant.”

They take a different and more uneventful ride on a hay wagon to the palace.

I love the exaggerated perspective going on here.

Peekin’.

“We made it inside, Brain!”

“…’Czar Brain’.”

“Czar Brain.”

He says it so quietly and sweetly, aww.

“Yes, Pinky. There are fleeting moments when I even amaze myself.”

I…don’t know if it’s much of an accomplishment yet, Brain. Settle that ego down a bit.

Oh, that’s some classic Looney Tunes-style sneaking animation there.

Wait, why is the door to the treasure room just open behind them? Czar Nicolas II, what gives?

Speaking of…

Hello, Czar Nicolas II. I hope you’re enjoying your “eclipse party”. You only have another 14 years or so to live it up, after all.

“In just a few minutes, it’ll be totally dark and scary. OooOOoo!~ But don’t anyone touch me, I have cooties!”

I, uhhh. Okay, then.

Same, boys. Same. Best to get down to business.

“Behold the crown jewels of Mother Russia, Pinky. World conquest will soon be ours!”

Again, world conquest is “ours” and not just Brain’s. Also you can just tell Pinky’s thinking “I’m going to wear so much of this jewelry!”

“Now, Brain?”

“Not yet. Wait for the total eclipse.”

Speaking of…

“Complete darkness, Pinky. Start the Vacuum-o-nator…”

“NOW!”

That gonging noise is an interesting choice for a chime. Surely this ornate clock is only an omen of good things for our duo.

Pinky, you’re swooning again. And Brain…

Oh no.

Another clock! Who’d have thought Russian nobility loved clocks so much? This one has a more pleasant bell chime, though.

…Oh NO!

Well, looks like things are going to hell pretty quickly.

Goodbye, boys.

Goodbye, Czar Nicolas II! You might wanna look out for a man named Grigori Rasputin in the future, okay?

Nice hat, Brain.

“Whu--? The eclipse is over? Narf! What happened, Brain?”

BONK!

“Zort! I mean, Czar Brain.”

“We failed again, Pinky… But just wait until tomorrow night!”

“Why? What are we going to do tomorrow night, Brain?”

“What else, Pinky?: Try to take over the world!”

It was a nice try, boys, but honestly I don’t know how you were going to fit all those crown jewels into that tiny improvised vacuum bag, anyway.

One last cute little detail in this episode is our mousey duo jumping up with enthusiastic determination in front of the silhouette of the moon on the last note of the theme reprise. One day, you guys. One day…

Oh! And before I forget, have another short cameo from “Plane Pals”. It’s a tiny one.

Pinky and the Brain steal a sheep off of an airplane. For what purpose? Who knows? But that’s it. I’m kind of wondering if the writers wanted to make a running joke of them making cameos to steal random things for world conquering purposes and just sort of gave up.

Anyway, so ends our recap for this post. It sure was a long one, but what can I say? There were some very cute details that needed to be shared. Have we learned anything new this time? Well, I mean, besides historical trivia.

Brain thinks both he and Pinky are great actors, despite his own near inability to lie and keep up an innocent pretense. Oh, he can be sarcastic, sure, but he can’t seem to manage to stop himself from revealing that he’s out for world domination whenever he has an audience.

For the first time we see Brain’s annoyance and humiliation resulting from him being a lab mouse. Though it’s on the more subtle side at the moment, Brain seemed extra grumpy and violent during that last episode because of the conditioning he’s unwillingly gone through. I’m curious to see if there are any more examples of this before we reach an episode touching on his origin story. Or…one of his origin stories, at least. There’s around four of them last I checked and all but one of them can reasonably fit into the others.

Pinky is truly beginning to show how much he adores Brain, which is nice. Beforehand we knew he was down with his world domination plans for whatever reason and also that he thinks Brain’s plans are great and ingenious. Now, though, we’ve gotten to the point of him literally swooning at Brain and his plans. Something’s definitely brewing there.

Next time: We get some more substantial cameos, join our mouse duo on a Fort Knox heist, and meet a new character that is both pretty important to the “lore” of the show going forward…but also doesn’t appear in person after their introductory episode until the very end of the Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain spin-off run.

See you then!

#Pinky and the Brain #PatB #Pavlov's Mice #Plane Pals

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elkian · 3 years

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I was gonna do a “missing the point”-style meme but I’m honestly not sure that would even work tho so:

Harry Potter and My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia have similar issues with introducing and then immediately ignoring ENORMOUS issues re: ableism.

I think these two series in specific come to mind bc it’s ableism within a specific empowered community, and in both cases the series are pretty well-known and the community (Wix/Heroes) are immediately identifiable to many audiences.

[WARNING: Discussions of ableism, child harm, and abuse on multiple levels.]

What’s the problem?

SQUIBS.

[This post got stupid huge SO here is a tl,dr for all you lovely people who understandably have no time for this.

TL, DR: Both Harry Potter and Boku No Hero have a bad tendency to implement or imply a level of disability regarding unempowered people in empowered societies. They then continue on to completely disregard important conclusions to these implications, such as how heavily it is implied that these unempowered people (Squibs) are so ‘worthless’ to those societies that their very deaths are merely a byline rather than an actual tragedy.

This is especially troubling in MHA/BNHA when so many other political and worldbuilding considerations HAVE been planned out, and seems to be less-discussed in the fandom as a whole, so that’s a much larger chunk of this post.]

That’s your tl, dr!

Here’s the Harry Potter angle:

HP has a bit that I’ve seen people discussing already: Neville’s magic was discovered when his uncle dropped a literal child a potenial lethal distance.

Neville activating his power and surviving is celebrated, and then JKR immediately glosses over the glaring issue this has introduced: the heavy implication that a Squib dying from this incident would have not have been mourned or even really commented on.

The few adult Squibs (and isn’t that a whole new slice of wonderful /j) are generally disliked and ridiculed for some reason or other. Now, while obviously there are plenty of places where the Venn diagram of “disabled” and “asshole” intersect irl, when your ONLY presentation of a disabled character or group is, every time, an asshole or a fool or both, boy! That’s bad!

Neville (who is generally presented as magically, physically, and mentally weak and often treated as comic relief) is a bit better via the POV Character constantly having positive interactions with him, but this is still a mess. Yes, Neville canonically is not a Squib, but it’s not subtle that he’s on the cusp OF being a Squib, and that is a key element of ridiculing him in many situations (also the whole trauma thing multiple times, like if I really get into it I could do a whole double-size post of how Neville was done dirty or nearly dirty by JK all the time but this isn’t that post).

This isn’t even the point of this post. Let’s move to MHA/BNHA

Hero Academia has differing but honestly even worse issues. And I’m aware that different countries handle ableism and accessibility in different ways, but if you think too hard about it this is an absolute clusterfuck.

What is the problem now?

Squibs! Or rather, the main character of the series, Midoriya Izuku.

Deku (a nickname meaning “useless”! Imparted after his disability is recognized! hilarity!!) is also born without powers. Even worse in some ways, he is born without powers in a world where the overwhelming majority of the global population has some kind of empowerment. I can’t recall if it’s outright stated or only implied that someone with a functionally useless (and hoo boy, usefullness to society is its own post nope not today i do not have that much energy) Quirk is still more of a person than a Quirkless human.

That sink in? Okay, let’s move on.

In a narratively not-uncommon turn of events, Deku gains power. This is partially a product of, and directly tied to, his own work and determination, as well as his willingness to help even when physically outmatched.

To an American audience (NOT the intended audience though I wouldn’t doubt it if Horikoshi meant to have international appeal more or less from the start), this is a deeply satisfying narrative. Who doesn’t love an underdog story? And we even learn that the strongest hero of all time (til this point, anyways) was ALSO born Quirkless!

However, from here, things take a nosedive.

The key problem is a combination of story progression and overall thought put into worldbuilding. Horikoshi’s efforts may not be the MOST thorough, but he has put a great deal of work and thought into his creation (he at least understands the concept of implications and sometimes plans accordingly, looking at you JKR). However, that tied with story progression and personal repercussions actually works to the detriment of the matter.

Especially given recent turns of events.

[BIG MEGA SPOILERS FOR FAIRLY RECENT PLOT

STOP HERE IF YOU’RE NOT CAUGHT UP

SERIOUSLY]

What I mean by this is the current state of events re: two particular recent/recent-ish plot arcs.

First, Quirk Removal, and second, Endeavor’s comeuppance.

Quirk Removal/Loss was the start of my realization to what the narrative was doing regarding Izuku’s Quirklessness and the state of being overall.

This arc was a perfect time to bring up Midoriya’s past! A lot of Western works certainly would have done so! And yes, it may be bordering on done-to-death, but many elements of Hero Academia put new twists on common themes and cliches; it wasn’t unreasonable to hope that he might do it again.

Instead, little to NOTHING is discussed during this time! In fact, iirc I’d go so far as to say Midoriya straight-up never considers his past at any point during this arc!? If I’m wrong then it obviously made little impact.

NOW, not every disabled character needs to incorporate their disability and/or skills gleaned from living with it in every narrative. In fact, it would get tedious and questionable if they did (note: this does NOT mean ignoring/forgetting the character is even disabled when convenient. Like, I’d like to think that’s the obvious point of this post but... *gestures at tumblr*).

But the complete lack of it here feels really weird. Like, almost hollow. I think Midoriya makes some kind of suggestion to Mirio of his former Quirklessness at the end of the arc, but nothing that made any kind of impact.

Let’s move on.

Endeavor.

Now, the problem with Endeavor’s arc is not the arc itself. Or, rather, it’s the fact that Endeavor’s Comeuppance is pretty good.

This is a problem because someone else should be getting this exact same arc, yet the issue is never even RECOGNIZED, let alone addressed.

Endeavor’s abuse of his wife and children, all in the name of creating a Heroic legacy, is publicized and tanks his popularity. The general public is now aware of what he’s done to the people closest to him, which aside from giving him a more correct reputation, means they can’t trust him to protect them if they can’t trust him to protect his own family.

This isn’t the goal of this post and I’m no expert regardless, but up to this point (around chapter 290) this was handled in an interesting way. Endeavor is humanized and often shown interacting with people in a way that, while often domineering, isn’t always aggressive or abusive. He runs a Hero Agency for crying out loud! But abuse in the real world often isn’t constant, nor happening to everyone in contact with the abuser. So this is a surprisingly good lead up to the reveal, where you can understand how most people never realized this was an issue.

But here’s my main point. Let’s examine some traits and actions that come up:

physically abusive to a child (often dangerously so) to the point of permanent trauma and severe scarring in some cases

target of abuse was weaker (physically and/or regarding Quirk power)

often abused victim emotionally/psychologically, bringing this weakness up again and again

own immense power led to rising in the world of Heroics

comrades, fellow Heroes, UA teachers etc. not aware of prior abuse issues

Who does this sound like?

Endeavor, who has a whole fucking arc dedicated to this reveal and repercussions?

Or Bakugou?

Reminder: This isn’t a hate post. This isn’t a character post, or even an abuse post. This is about ableism.

Bakugou exhibits many, many traits and actions that Endeavor was literally just punished for. So why does the treatment of these characters in-universe differ so drastically?

Two primary reasons I can think of, which feed into each other:

1) Bakugou was a child (still technically is a minor, remember! Still a first-year high schooler!) when this started. This doesn’t mean he’s strictly innocent, but it’s an important point, because it leads us to

2) Bakugou Katsuki’s abuse of Midoriya Izuku is socially accepted.

Reminder of the audience’s first encounter with Katsuki. The very first page with him is him and his grade-school posse picking on a kid that Izuku is trying to protect. His posse is showing off their Quirk powers and mocking Izuku’s lack thereof.

Then we flash forward to late-middle school versions of the kids. Bakugou, in front of a fucking teacher and entire class, is verbally, physically, etc. abusive to Izuku. He trashes his stuff, threatens him, tells him to kill himself (which, as Izuku notes later, is a fucking felony in Japan too).

No one stops him.

No one criticizes him.

We don’t even get a shot of like, some more ‘regular’ students being like “man Bakugou’s kinda fucked up but we’re too scared to do anything about it” NO. NO. Everyone more or less either backs Katsuki up or straight up doesn’t care.

Remember that this started when Katsuki and Izuku were four. Remember that Katsuki’s power is absurdly dangerous, ie. LITERAL. GODDAMN. EXPLOSIONS.

Izuku has scars. He probably has hearing loss! He may have gotten at least one concussion which can cause serious neurological issues and open him up to further risk!

He could have died.

And?

NO ONE. DOES. ANYTHING.

THIS is the point of the post. THIS is the value placed on Quirkless people in this society.

And yet. Despite Endeavor’s comeuppance. Despite All Might and Izuku’s blatant ‘value’ to society through Heroics. Despite so many other political implications and quandaries address in the Hero Academia series.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing about this is addressed. The nearly-lethal ableism towards Quirkless people in this society is never ONCE brought up properly once Izuku receives One For All.

There is so much potential here! There is so much worth talking about! And yet we’ve moved into what feels very much like the Final Battle without it being addessed, despite numerous, numerous opportunities for a meaningful conversation about it along the way.

Mirio losing his power! Hell, Mirio’s powers’ drawbacks (and pretty much every Quirk’s drawback! if acknowledged properly!) border on a disability-analogue, and even more when Yuga’s laser comes up, and yet again and again we fail to truly engage with the matter in a meaningful way.

At this point, even if it comes up in the finale, I’m going to be disappointed in this particular aspect of the series due to the complete and total shut-down it’s been given so far.

What the FUCK, Horikoshi?

#elk text #24th #February #2021 #February 24th 2021 #I hope the bold helps with reading #long post warn #elk has thoughts #sorry for the ramble #Ableism #other shit comes up but plz keep in mind that that is the PRIMARY POINT OF THIS #also:#child abuse warn #abuse warn #harry potter spoilers warn #boku no hero spoilers #like REAL BIG spoilers for later Hero Academia stuff!#this is not a character hate post and i will block judiciously #elk has feelings

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patriciasage · 3 years

Text

Dawn Patrol

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary:

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

[a Stolen Century story - Barry thinks Magnus is flirting with Lup. He's wrong.]

posted in full under the break but you can find me on A03!!

Barry Bluejeans has a crush on Lup the moment he sees her on his first day with the I.P.R.E., but he falls completely and permanently in love with her around Cycle 10.

He speaks the mongoose language with her and Taako like they’re a secret club, and her soft, mischievous smile makes his heart flutter. Barry and Lup combine their expertise of science and arcana, respectively, staying up late into the night drawing diagrams on the Starblaster’s wall. She tells him about her childhood, about how she views the world. She’s vulgar, bold, impulsive, but also incredibly soft and sweet. She remembers what he likes and doesn't like to eat. They play fetch together in Puppy Town and that’s the first time Barry imagines her as his wife. He tells his brain to slow the fuck down; they’ve only known each other for a decade.

When Taako dies for his first time in Cycle 12, Lup prefers to spend nights with Barry in his lab, curled up in his desk chair. Barry gladly provides his company and cozy blankets to her in solace, and she barely leaves his side that year. It’s nice to spend so much time with her, but it also hurts him to see her so sad and trying so hard to hide it. When Taako materializes next to her on the deck as they speed away from another consumed world, she hugs her twin for at least two full minutes, and Barry resolves to do his best to protect her…and protect her heart.

Barry thinks he might have a chance. After all, they are a crew of seven, and one of them is her brother. He figures that Lup might want him, even if it’s just for a night (and although he wants more with her, so much more, he would take anything she offers). But it seems he’s not the only one carrying a flame for Lup.

Magnus Burnsides is a huge, handsome, kind young man who has never half-assed anything in his life. So, when he begins to flirt with Lup it’s pretty obvious. He’s constantly showing off, doing ridiculous and dangerous things to impress her. He attempts to learn more about elf culture and magic, talking animatedly to Lup and Taako while they cook supper. He’s courteous, charming, and brave in ways that Barry could never mold himself.

Magnus also notices how Taako’s death affected his sister, and he seems to make the same resolution as Barry. From that day forward, Magnus always has Taako’s back, even going so far as to put himself in danger to protect the wizard. In Cycle 16, Taako is retrieving the Light of Creation and sets off a trap. Before Barry can even react, Magnus leaps forward and pushes the elf out of the way. Magnus is impaled by six spears. When the fighter appears on the Starblaster with his signature black eye months later, Taako punches him hard in the arm. “Don’t do that again, you big idiot!” There's a stone in Barry's stomach as Lup kisses Magnus on the cheek and quietly thanks him.

Compared to Magnus, Barry feels small and boring and incapable.

It’s not even possible to hate Magnus, though, because he’s so damn hospitable. Instead, Barry resigns himself to the fact that Lup will likely choose the fighter over him. He enjoys her company, tries to keep everyone out of trouble, and finds contentment in this seemingly endless time with his new family.

The Beach World on Cycle 21 is a welcome reprieve. They find the light very early and everyone just relaxes for once. Even Merle enjoys himself as he recovers in the med bay; the others visit him often and begrudgingly help him work on his book of poetry. Davenport practices self-care, Lucretia gets lost in her art, and Taako learns how to surf. But things aren’t too leisurely because Magnus decides he’s going to “train” them to be ready for surprise attacks.

Barry is sitting on the beach next to Lup one hot morning. She’s lying on her back on their beach blanket with a large, floppy hat covering her eyes. She’s resting her arms under her head, telling Barry about a festival her aunt took her to when she was a kid. Barry is trying very hard not to be completely distracted by the sight of her armpit hair, her stylish bathing suit, and her beautiful, brown skin shining in the sun. Barry, in contrast, is sitting under a huge umbrella, wearing a white T-shirt, jean shorts, and a thick layer of sunscreen.

Suddenly, a huge shadow covers the sun and a loud voice shouts, “Magnus!”

Barry yelps and drops his glass of lemonade on the blanket. Magnus sinks to his knees in the sand so he’s eye-to-eye with the scientist. “You gotta be ready, Bluejeans. Anywhere, anytime.” He smiles over Barry’s shoulder. “I didn’t get you at all, did I?”

Lup has lifted up her hat a little to look at them, but her relaxed position is unchanged, unbothered. She smirks, “You’re going to have to do better than that, Burnsides.”

Magnus winks. “Challenge accepted.” Barry feels like a jellyfish blob on the sand between them.

And then Magnus takes off his shirt.

It takes all of Barry’s self-control not to throw himself into the ocean and let himself drown. Magnus has these ridiculous broad shoulders, an even patch of hair across his chest, and his stomach protrudes over his waistband only slightly in that sexy way. His skin is browned and freckled from long days in the sun and his ridiculous biceps flex as he throws his shirt on the blanket next to them. Barry, in contrast, is a pale potato of a man.

He’s ready to get up and leave them to their flirting when Magnus speaks up. “Well, see ya later!”

Magnus hands Barry his now empty lemonade glass and then stands up, brushing sand off of his hairy legs. He sprints across the beach until he’s met with the resistance of the water, making a huge splash. “Hey! Taako!”

Caught up in conversation with Lup, Barry had forgotten about the wizard. Taako is sitting on his surfboard, floating on large but gentle waves about thirty feet away from shore. He’s retying his long blonde hair up into a messy bun. “Hey, big guy. What’s crackin?”

“Just doing some training, you know?”

“Yeah, you got Barry good.”

“How’s surfing today?”

“It’s going off. I’ve only been in the soup a few times but that was early in the morning. Dawn patrol, am I right?”

Magnus laughs. “Yeah, for sure.” Taako has been almost creating his own language at this point.

Beside Barry, Lup snorts. “What the fuck does that even mean?” she says. “Magnus shouldn’t encourage him like that but, eh, you know how he is with Taako.”

“How he –” Barry looks back over at the fighter and it’s like a crisp breath of air enters his lungs. Magnus has sat himself on the sand with his feet in the water. He rests his chin on his hand and watches Taako prepare to carve another wave. Magnus cheers when the wizard stands on the board and laughs when Taako falls into the water. Taako’s long hair is out of its bounds again, cascading over his bare, dark shoulders. As he climbs onto his surfboard, he flips Magnus off. Magnus blushes.

Magnus blushes and he looks at Taako with stars in his eyes. He looks at Taako the way Barry probably looks at Lup. And Barry realizes how fucking stupid he’s been.

Magnus hasn’t been flirting with Lup. Barry has only seen him flirt when they’re both with Lup and Lup is with Taako. And Barry was so immersed in his own insecurity that he didn’t stop to actually observe what was going on around him. Some scientist he is.

At the end of the day, Barry watches Magnus offer to carry Taako’s surfboard back to the cabin. Taako, forever dramatic, convinces Magnus to carry him back as well. It doesn’t take much convincing. Barry looks at Magnus’s pleased and flustered expression with Taako latched onto his back, complaining, and Barry internally ridicules himself for being so dense.

A few days later, Barry asks Taako to teach him to swim. They work on it every morning for a few weeks. It’s brutal in the beginning – Barry flounders whenever he tries to go horizontal and Taako has a tendency to point and laugh rather than help. But they both get better at it and soon they have an amicable and productive routine. Barry goes from indiscriminately splashing to a solid doggy paddle to an almost front crawl. And Taako claps and coos at him like a proud mother.

On the last day of their morning swimming lessons, Barry thanks him and gets up the courage to have an honest discussion. “There have been times where I haven’t been able to hang out with everybody because y’all go swimming and there are times where there’s people I, like, you know, want to hang out with and I just haven’t been able to do it and that’s not a good look and it makes me look like a big nerd and I um… It’s just that— I just, like— I don’t know. It’s… Never mind, it’s stupid. Thanks for teaching me how to swim.”

“Who are you afraid of looking silly in front of?” Taako asks. They’re both standing waist-deep in the water and Barry tries to make his anxiety dissolve. Taako’s approval means the absolute world in this situation.

“I look up to Lup a lot…” he admits.

And Taako is graciously chill. He places his hand on the scientists’ shoulder comfortingly and speaks with rare seriousness. “Barry, you’re locked in and this wave’s crashing all around you, my man, and I— I don’t begrudge you anything. You know, we’ve lost a lot, uh, and there’s a lot more we might lose...but the one thing we do have is the thing that people in love rarely ever have enough of – and it’s time.” This is a side to Taako that he doesn’t show often, someone genuine and wise and openly affectionate.

The wizard’s words echo in his head often – “You got all the time in the world, my man.”

Barry is feeling relieved and grateful as he walks from the beach that day with his sunhat on. Lup will tease him about his sunburn but it will be worth it to be able to swim with her. As he reaches the part of the beach where sand transforms into foliage, something stops him in his trek – the sight of a hulking figure sitting on a rock. It’s Magnus. “Is this another training thing?” Barry asks cautiously as he approaches.

Magnus doesn’t look up. He seems dejected. “No, it’s not. I’m just thinking.”

“Um,” Barry fidgets with the string on his swim trunks. “You alright? What’s going on?”

“I dunno, you tell me, Barry!” Magnus says, gesticulating with his large hands. “What’s going on with these morning swimming sessions?”

Magnus looks disappointed and self-conscious; a combination Barry is very familiar with. He has to remind himself to close his mouth.

Magnus Burnsides is jealous of Barry Bluejeans.

Barry begins to laugh. This just makes Magnus’s cheeks turn red and his eyebrows furrow even more. “Fine, okay, you don’t need to –”

“No, no,” Barry interrupts, approaching the fighter. He places his hand on Magnus’s huge bicep. “Magnus, I don’t know how to - … Okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried. You’re a good guy. It’s fine. I just thought that maybe…” Magnus shakes his head, and his expression clears. “I asked him if he could teach me to surf and he said he was too busy teaching you to swim so I guess I was just disappointed because I really wanted to…learn how to surf.”

“Magnus. Taako doesn’t want to…swim with me. And I only asked Taako to teach me because I wanted to swim with Lup.” Magnus looks up at him with hopeful dark eyes. “I really want to swim with Lup. I think I want to swim with Lup for the rest of my life.” Barry chuckles. “For a long time, I thought you wanted to swim with Lup!”

Magnus lets out a startled laugh of his own. “No, I… I want to, uh, swim with Taako. But I’m not sure he wants to swim with me.”

“Well, he doesn’t want to swim with old Barry, that’s for sure.” Barry shrugs. “I can ask Lup, maybe? She’ll know.”

Magnus stands up from the rock. His shoulders are relaxed now. “No, it’s okay. I think he needs more time. I’ll ask him myself one day.”

The Beach World is a gift they didn’t know they needed. They grow closer as a family. Lucretia commemorates it through portraiture. Lup and Taako continue to be firecrackers, burning bright, loud, and dangerous. And Barry and Magnus continue to stare with stars in their eyes.

Merle, Lucretia, and Davenport make bets.

In Cycle 25, Merle wins.

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ambersky0319 · 4 years

Text

You’re Something Else

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

I’m gonna hope I can post this daily- or near daily, at least!

Prompt: Medieval Demus fanfic? Remus and Roman are both princes and with Roman set to inherit the throne their parents desperately want to see Remus married off, however Remus has the tendency to be picky with potential suitors and has turned them all down thus far. That is until Remus’ newest suitor turns out to be Prince Janus. At first Remus is difficult with him as he is with all his suitors but than Janus starts winning him over slowly. Janus also knows sorcery in this.

Overall Story Warnings: Blood and injuries(varies throughout story), kind of a terrible father, lmk if I need to add anything else!

Masterpost

———————–

Remus over the course of the next week tried to get Janus annoyed, disgust him, to make him leave early. But nothing he did seemed to work. He tried leaving piles of trash in Janus's room, it mysteriously disappeared. He tried to be overly sexual, Janus just smacked him with his cane(not hard enough that it hurt, but enough to get Remus to stop). He had threatened to challenge Janus to a duel and Janus had just laughed and said: "I'd love to see you try."

And Janus, well, Janus just kind of let it happen. What use was there in trying to get Remus to stop when Remus was adamant on trying to get him to leave. Plus, it was fun watching Remus grow frustrated that he wasn't leaving.

And his parents just asked if Janus would stay longer. He agreed, to make them happy, but Remus just groaned in annoyance that this man was as stubborn as him.

Midway through the second week, though, is when things started to get a bit weird. At least for Remus. He had given up on trying to drive Janus away, and instead opted to try and avoid him. It didn't work all the time but Remus was able to avoid him for most of the day by going into the woods, taking a different path each time and sometimes not taking one at all.

Each time he came back, though, there was a few different flowers waiting on his bed. Often they were wilted, but the ones that were still alive were always a bright green. The odd thing was, Remus didn't recognize any of the flowers.

Finally, he had had enough of the flowers and stormed across the hall to Janus's room. Neither of his guards tried to stop him, in fact he was pretty sure he saw them smirking to one another as he pushed open Janus's door.

Janus glanced up in surprise as Remus waltzed in, raising a brow. "May I help you?" He asked. Remus growled softly and tossed all the flowers he had received over the past few days at Janus. Janus still appeared puzzled as he caught them.

"What are you playing at?" Remus crossed his arms as he glared, and Janus blinked. A puzzled look appeared on his face.

"What?"

"The flowers! Why do you keep giving them to me? And where are they from?!"

"Would you prefer I give you something else?" Janus asked, rising to his feet and letting the flowers rest on his bed beside his closed book. Remus looked startled at the sudden closeness. "I figured you'd be interested in them, native to my homeland those flowers, all quite rare. But if you're not, I could always just stop."

Remus bit his lip. "Th... They're rare flowers?"

Janus nodded, walking past Remus to a small bookcase. He grabbed one of the books after briefly skimming the titles, and he passed it over to Remus. Remus looked down at the title in confusion.

Oddities in Nature, Volume II, Flowers.

"It's hard getting them to last so long or even grow in any gardens. Those are the few I've managed to keep alive. But even once they're wilted they still remain useful."

"Useful?"

Janus's eyes widened a bit as he realized what he had said. But the look was fine before Remus had time to process it had even happened. "For uh, medicines. Like this one," he picked up the first wilted flower he had ever given to Remus. "It's nicknamed Moondrop in my kingdom, only blooms under a blood supermoon, and even then just finding the Moondrop is a challenge, so although the supermoon occurs every few years we rarely find one when it does."

"What's it used in?" Remus found himself asking, looking between the flower and Janus.

Janus smiled warmly, genuinely, and Remus hated how his heart skipped a beat.

"A sort of uh... concoction to heal really bad wounds, like stab wounds in the stomach or burns.

"And it works?" Janus laughed lightly at Remus's tone, nodding.

"It does indeed." He tilted his head. "Want to borrow the book?"

"If it's not too much trouble..."

"Don't worry about it." Remus felt himself relax, holding the book closer. He was about to turn and leave when Janus tapped him on the shoulder. "Remus?"

Remus glanced at him, confused. Janus smiled and offered the flowers to him again, somehow they were all arranged neatly in a bouquet. Remus's jaw dropped slightly. "Think you're forgetting something," Janus hummed, slipping the bouquet into Remus's hands.

The next thing Remus knew he was standing in the hallway, Janus's door closed behind him, the book hugged to his chest and the flowers held close as he looked at them with a newfound interest. Remus glanced once back towards Janus's door before heading back to his room to start reading.

Janus waited until he heard the sound of another door closing, and he relaxed. Walking back to his bed, he picked up his book; a spell book. He wasn't practicing the spells yet, one of the reasons having just taken place. Remus walking in unannounced.

At home it wouldn't usually matter, since his family knew he was practicing sorcery and would often leave him be so he could concentrate. But it was like this royal family had no regard for privacy. Janus had already seen Orion enter Remus's room uninvited a few times, and Remus entering Roman's the same way. He wasn't going to risk getting caught practicing magic.

To his knowledge, they didn't even know Janus was a sorcerer. Well, he wasn't an official sorcerer technically, but he was practicing and learning and his teacher, Logan, was perfectly content in Janus learning it as a hobby. Besides, you never know when a spell could save your life.

Or someone else's, Janus reminds himself when he glances up and catches sight of the scar along his face and neck. It wasn't Logan's work, Logan wasn't in the kingdom when Janus had been injured in a fire. The sorcerer who did heal him his parents claimed to have died, and Janus had just accepted it. But he did want to learn sorcery after that.

His hand made its way to his cane, and without looking he felt around until his finger brushed over a button. He pressed it and the bottom part of the cane slipped to the floor. Flicking it around, Janus slipped the top part of the cane off as well, setting the piece on his bed as he held his wand, smiling to himself as he ran his fingers over the wood. Maybe he could practice some magic soon, later tonight after dinner. For now, Janus returned to his book, wand in hand but never actually performing any spells.

Remus closed the book after a few hours, and he pushed it a bit away from him on his bed. He rested his chin on his hands, brows pulled together as he thought.

This book was definitely an oddity itself, nevermind the plants depicted inside. Remus had only seen a few of them before, and it was a long time ago. The rest he had never even heard of.

Right, native to his land. Remus thought, glancing back to the bouquet sitting near his mirror, the flowers now in a black vase.

The book also showed how to brew the plants to create all sorts of tonics, plus some... graphic... diagrams on what could happen if brewed incorrectly. Now those were fascinating. Some of the things in the book Remus didn't understand, certain phrases that sounded odd when he said them, but he brushed that aside. They were probably things in another language altogether.

Shaking his head, Remus glanced to his window, frowning slightly at how dark it was outside. Had he really been reading for so long?

His eyes drifted to the flowers and he felt himself relax a bit. He supposed it wasn't that bad, reading for a few hours. He wondered if Janus had visited the castle library yet?

Remus shook his head. No, he was not going to start thinking about what Janus might like. He wasn't going to get attached. Surely he could find some way to get Janus to leave, and leave without Remus. He grabbed the book and moved it to his nightstand, climbing off his bed to change into his nightclothes. Pulling the covers over his head, Remus burrowed into his pillows, falling into a relatively calm sleep.

---

Almost another week had gone by. Janus was still living in the castle. Remus was surprised when he realized Janus wasn't leaving his room much outside of meals. Sometimes one or both of the guards would enter the room when the third, Janus's main guard named Ethan(something Remus was very surprised to have learned his name), would ask for them to come help with something. What they were helping with, Remus didn't know.

Sometimes, another book would be left outside Remus's door. Always part of the Oddities in Nature books. And always with a new, strange thing. Janus still gave him rare plants, but he now also started giving Remus little gems that looked boring at first but then would shimmer and cast rainbows on the walls or what looked like blood spatter on the ceiling if angled right.

Remus would return the books by handing them to the guards. Often Ethan. Remus didn't know the names of the other two, they wore helmets that covered all but the bottom part of their faces. A bit unnerving, and it made Remus curious, but he hadn't decided to ask yet.

"Maybe he thinks I'll go to him?" Remus asked his reflection one morning, running a hand through his greasy hair. Well, not as greasy as it normally was. He was making a bit more of an effort to keep it relatively clean.

His mother was happy with the small bit of effort. She was also delighted that Janus had yet to leave. Evelyn believed that Remus would like this one eventually.

Remus hated how she might be right.

There was no denying that Remus was curious about this prince. A bunch of secrets, Janus was, and Remus wanted to learn them all. And he despised that he was fascinated with Janus, finding himself biting back questions he desperately wanted to ask.

Remus never realized how hard staying quiet actually was.

Orion didn't mind Janus. But Remus knew that his father didn't like him as much as he liked Roman. And maybe that was another reason he liked Janus.

He shook his head. He should stop worrying about this, or else the streak in his hair might grow.

Remus grabbed his morningstar along with a small bag of snacks he'd stolen from the cooks. He clipped the bag to his belt and slung the morning star over his shoulder, making his way to the door.

When he walked out, he was surprised to see Janus also leaving his room, cane in hand along with the bag he always carried everywhere except to meals. Janus blinked at him, tilting his head and smiling gently.

"Prince Remus. Going somewhere?"

Remus clenched his morningstar tighter, swaying from side to side as he answered. "Just the woods."

Janus nodded slightly. "Mind if I join you?"

Remus frowned. "I don't know. You don't look like you'd last long where I'm heading."

One of Janus's guards laughed softly, and the other smirked. Remus felt heat raise to his cheeks as Janus rolled his eyes at them. "I can handle myself. Besides, there's some plants I've yet to find in the parts that I have explored and I really need these other plants."

Remus averted his gaze from the brown and yellow one staring at him. He forced his shoulders to relax. "Alright then, it's your funeral."

It really would be, considering where Remus was going was a few miles from the castle where there was rumor of a dragon. It had claimed the lives of some guards and Remus wanted to try and fight it himself, or at least see it. He wasn't going to try and keep Janus safe though, when he would be too busy watching his own back.

Remus turned down the hall without another word, hearing one of Janus's guards tell them to be careful. Janus walked with confidence as he followed Remus, heels clicking against the polished floor a good distraction for Remus. The steady beat kept his thoughts from spiraling, because while Remus might not be inclined to protect Janus... He didn't want to imagine what could happen to him.

One of the guards near the castle entrance stopped them, lifting their helmet to talk to them properly.

"Now where do you two think you're going?" They narrowed their eyes at Remus. "Not going after that dragon, are you?"

Remus smiled sheepishly as they eyed his morningstar. "No one said I couldn't go look at it!"

The guard glared. "That's just as idiotic as trying to fight it, my prince." They looked to Janus. "Surely you know this, Prince Janus."

Janus tilted his head. "It is indeed. Luckily we weren't going to go that way. Prince Remus was going to bring me to this flower he found the other day and we'll be back soon."

They raised a brow. "And he's bringing his morningstar because?"

Janus shrugged, crossing his arms and holding his head high. He was asking them to challenge him as he spoke, Remus realized, watching. "Defense, obviously. There are creatures everywhere in the woods aside from a dragon that could harm us. It makes sense to bring a weapon. Plus, Prince Remus brings it everywhere."

Remus almost pulled away when Janus slipped their arms together, almost tried to argue for Janus to back away. But then he saw the fading confidence in the guard's eyes and found a small smile gracing his face. "Now, can we go?"

The guard sighed, slipping their helmet back into place before stepping back. They walked in step out of the castle and Janus didn't let Remus go until they were out of sight of any palace guards and at an unmarked part of the forest.

"So, a dragon?" Janus hummed as he followed Remus into the brush. There was almost a natural trail, but it wasn't worn enough to really be considered a pathway. Janus noted the many broken branches where the guards probably walked without care, slashing their way through the lush part of the forest. Remus spared a glance his way before turning his attention back to the ground.

"You can always turn back."

"No, I still need those flowers. And I'd like to at least try and find them."

"Are they worth a run-in with a man-eating dragon?" Remus asked, glancing up at the barely visible sky. The canopy is already very thick, the trees standing tall and prouder than Remus has ever stood. He remembers one day when he had tried to climb one, fell, and broken his arm upon landing.

Remus was startled when Janus laughed. It was soft and Remus's heart jumped into his throat as Janus quieted. "I'm afraid to disappoint, but dragons aren't man-eating. Territorial, yes. But they don't eat humans."

"They kill them." Remus pointed out, watching Janus out of the corner of his eye as Janus walked beside him. Janus was keeping his eyes on their surroundings, just in case he did spot one of the plants he needed.

"Some. Most don't. This one must have built its den close to where those guards found it, if it killed them. Or they provoked it. Dragons will kill if pushed over the edge."

Remus frowned. "How do you know so much about dragons?"

Janus swung his cane slightly, moving it so it didn't touch the ground. "They're common where I'm from. You've gotta know about them or else you might end up six feet under."

"They're common?!"

Janus chuckled at Remus's astonishment. "Yes. Very common. It's hard to go anywhere without spotting one. Their dens are further away from us humans but the dragons like the free food and stealing things for their hordes."

Remus bit his lip. He was going to regret this.

Drawing his morningstar closer so it wouldn't hit anything, Remus sighed softly. "Can you tell me some other things about your kingdom?"

Janus tilted his head, smile twisting into a small smirk. "Oh, finally interested?"

Remus huffed, closing in on himself a bit more. "Nevermind."

Janus chuckled. "No, no. I'm sorry. Anything you want to know in particular?"

———————–

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thesquishywizard · 4 years

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How to make a Grimoire!

This took me a week to compile so if you enjoy it and want to support me, this a link to my ko-fi!

Hey there, I’m Ismo the Squishy Wizard, and today I want to talk about how you could go about making a grimoire for yourself. Grimoires are very personal despite being for information and reference, so it is understandable that some of my advice just won’t fit your way of doing things. The following advice is based on my experiences and the experiences of other magical practitioners and witches I have spoken to or watched on youtube, so hopefully you can avoid some problems we have ran into.

What is the difference between a grimoire and a book of shadows (BoS)?

A grimoire is often only a magical reference book while a book of shadows is not only a magical reference book, but also a diary, record of magical activities and ultimately, whatever you make of it. The reason why you might want one more than the other is purely down to personal taste.

A grimoire will detail what things mean, their origins, uses and personal associations. It is in an order that will help the witch easily find what they’re looking for, whether that is in alphabetical order, simplicity to complexity, importance to you or some other personal order. Grimoires tend to be quite formal, being written in highly decorated documents on a computer, high quality notebooks, scrapbooks or sketchbooks.

A book of shadows may do all that too but also include records of daily practice, experiences with deities or spirits, personal reflection and introspection, thoughts and questions about the craft, results of spells and maybe dreams too. It generally is in order of learning and experiencing so can be slightly harder to navigate for reference for some people. Books of shadows tend to be more casual and some people write them in old school books and notebooks. Some people separate things further and put dreams and personal reflection and introspection in a book of mirrors, so that might be a good thing to think about.

Other people don’t define grimoires and BoS in this way and see it as two terms for the same concept and use “BoS” and “grimoire” interchangeably, so this may still be useful advice for those making a BoS. Neither a BoS or a grimoire is better universally, it is about what is best for you and the way you practice.

I personally have a grimoire and a magical diary as two seperate books!

Why might you want a grimoire?

Grimoires are useful for compiling knowledge all in one place, in a language you understand and work well with. With a grimoire, you might not feel the need to get several books out, just your grimoire because you will have used your knowledge and experience and the authors of those other books experiences when writing information in your grimoire. It also allows you to remove any jargon you don’t understand or add useful diagrams and pictures if you are a visual learner. A grimoire still shouldn’t be your only book, always continue learning and researching with others’ insights, grimoires are just more compact and quick for when you quickly need to find something out or need a bit of help. However, you don’t need a grimoire, if you think a book of shadows, a magical diary or just using pre-existing books is more useful to you, don’t make a grimoire. Grimoires can be an awful lot of work, only make one if you feel like you need it and are going to use it.

Don’t instantly begin making a grimoire, wait at least three months

A grimoire holds all the information that is important to your craft and though the beautiful, awe inspiring pictures of grimoires get a new witch raring to go, it is probably not best to make a grimoire yet. Making a book of shadows or a simple diary would probably be more useful and less overwhelming to begin with and you can still record new knowledge you come across, it is still important to learn and research as this is what will get you ready to make a grimoire.

Trying to make an organised, informative grimoire when you are still new to the craft can be very hard and may cause you to include misinformation or elements of witchcraft that are simply not relevant to your life soon after looking into them, as a witch’s practice changes a lot drastically in the first year or two, and their path will still change, but often just slighter, through their whole life.

This might mean that whole sections of your grimoire are never used, putting your hard work to waste. Some witches don’t start making their grimoire until they are years into their path, as they are now more sure of their beliefs, the way they practice and their thoughts on things so they can guarantee everything is of use to them, and should be for a long time.

I started my first grimoire five months into my path but I honestly should have done it later, as my path underwent some drastic changes only six months later (so eleven months into my path), but I’ve had a very stable path for about a year now so I’m currently making a new grimoire. Now I’m learning additional things, so I feel more comfortable starting my grimoire again. I’ve not learnt things that reshape my whole way of thinking and practice for quite a bit, though this can still happen at any point in your journey and it should be welcomed with open arms, but just a warning, that sort of thing is more likely to happen early on in your path.

Research and meditate on your findings!

To work out what path you want to take and how that may inform what goes into your grimoire, you need to research. You’ve probably heard before that the first step to anything in witchcraft is research which is very true and the sooner you start researching the quicker you’ll be able to understand and confidently start your grimoire. Bookmark websites, stick post-it notes and bookmarks in your books, or even begin collating your information into a computer document or writing it down in your diary or BoS.

Experience being a witch before beginning to write your grimoire, try out those spells, try out those ideas, you may find that they simply don’t work for you or mesh right with your personal experiences or you may find that you’re a lot more into that area than you first thought you would be and you need to do deeper research and learn even more! Explore the world around you and record it in your diary, BoS, phone or elsewhere. Get to know the plants common in your area and therefore useful in your practice, the constellations in the sky, the food you can make, anything, just get to know what you like. Also make sure you fully understand a subject before deciding to put it in your grimoire, I’ve known witches who have written about things such as chakras, only to later find the western model of chakras is very warped from their Hindu and Tantric Buddhism origins and I myself have written about plants that are native to the Americas, despite me being British and having no way to access them because I didn’t properly research.

When researching information, always think about whether it is relevant to you and whether you enjoy it. It can be tempting to research anything and everything but you might get burnt out and find the craft overwhelming that way and also some things are from closed practices. You should always check if something is from a closed practice, even if it seems to be commonly used.

Always use multiple resources even when it comes down to something as simple as latin names. The book I was using for British plants and wildflowers was written in the 1910s, which meant some latin names had changed so I crossed referenced every one with both British wildflower websites and wikipedia.

Drafting and planning your grimoire

Once you’ve collected some reliable resources and you feel comfortable in your understanding of the subjects that you’re interested in, you could start planning out your grimoire.

I recommend planning your grimoire so you don’t get overwhelmed by all of the things you want to put into it and how you want to present it.

First, think about what medium you want to construct your grimoire in, do you want it to be a digital grimoire? Or maybe in an actual book? Both? Next, think about the order you want everything in, though it isn’t yet made, plan it out something like a contents page. Make sure the order of things makes sense to your brain. Also, maybe have a little think about the future, maybe you could futureproof your book if you know there are areas that you want to look into one day or look into further and take into account the extra room you might need.

If you choose to make a physical grimoire, consider making a first draft before the finished project. You can do this in an old notebook or digitally. Mistakes are made and you don’t want to fumble your words so you could write it in full before writing it in your book, but many just plan a series of points they wish to cover. I planned mine in full in google docs, just without pictures. This meant I had all my knowledge and research already compiled and worded in a way I was happy with, I can often mess up my wording on the fly.

If you choose to make a digital grimoire you don’t have to worry as much about drafting, but it’s still important to make a structured plan for how you will organize things within your grimoire. Moving sections about can be a bit tricky! It’s also a good idea to choose which program you want to make your grimoire in, make sure it’s one you know how to use well so you don’t get frustrated, making a grimoire is meant to be fun. Some people enjoy using an art program to digitally draw and write their information, then they print them out! Some people instead use something like a google doc or document program, adding information in the form of text, pictures or charts but keeping it digital.

Tips for actually making your grimoire!

If you’ve planned a physical grimoire, it might be a good idea to get a larger book than you expect to actually need! You will keep using this book in the future, and continue to add information to it. You don’t want to run out of space when you have something really cool to talk about! As previously said, you could also futureproof it by leaving spaces or whole pages blank for extra information or new subjects.

A digital grimoire doesn’t mean a dull grimoire! Download some free fonts, lots of free witchy fonts exist and can really inject more of you into your document. There’s also lots of free photo websites or you could take your own photos and put them in your document. It doesn’t have to be all text in times new roman. I really like ‘Adalind’! https://www.fontspace.com/category/witch

Some people find it is a good idea to source their information, especially when they are using their experiences and the experiences of several other people. This means that things can be checked later, years into the future if you are confused as to why something might be so.

You don’t have to know how to draw well to make a physical grimoire! You can print out pictures, you can take pictures out of magazines or books, or you can use something like postcards, tea cards, trading cards, lots of things! Don’t just restrict yourself to photos and drawings you’ve done.

Pressing flowers and leaves can be a wonderful idea for a physical grimoire, especially if you don’t have access to a printer or you feel like your art skills aren’t there. It can also give your grimoire that field journal feel! However, pressing flowers and leaves can mean some colour loss. To retain the most colour, keep the plants pressed for two or three weeks in a warm room. Most small flowers or leaves in a warm room will be pressed after just under a week. Never press a plant for more than a year, you don’t need to wait that long and also you run the risk of making your sample brittle. You could also laminate leaves (but not flowers, the heat seems to mess them up) and this seems to retain the colour better.

When making a physical grimoire, if using a book, make sure the book has a thick, sturdy cover, the book might get damaged with a soft cover, so a hard card, leather or even cork cover is a good idea to look out for when selecting your book. When selecting a book, never go for a type of binding known as ‘perfect binding’, as it uses glue to bind the pages to the cover. With the nature of grimoires, they tend to puff out quite a bit with all the flaps, pictures and pressed samples, which can break the inflexible glue binding. A good binding is wire or spiral bound, this means you can completely fold the pages over, reducing the total spread of the book on a work surface at any given time. Another good type of book is screwpost binding, here screws that can be easily screwed in and out hold the book together or alternatively bits of string to bind the book instead of the screws (this is my book’s binding). You can take the bits out and punch holes in your paper to increase the total amount of canvas you have to work with, it’s a lot like a ring binder, except it’s a book! Lastly, another common type of grimoire binding is section sewn, this is usually found in handmade leather grimoires. It’s virtually impossible to add paper to these, but they’re very sturdy and look quite magical. You can also bind your own books this way!

If you choose to make a ring binder grimoire, try to get a sturdy, high quality one. Many ring binders rings can’t actually match up, which can shred your paper as they pass over these sharp points. Also keep in mind a sturdy cover, some ring binders have a thin flexible plastic sheet, but cardboard or even wooden covers are out there and are a bit better at protecting your work.

If you plan to use multi-media methods of creating your grimoire, or heavy types of ink, I suggest you go for a heavyweight type of paper, something like a high quality notebook or sketchbook will be good. Handbound artisan books tend to come with heavyweight thick paper, so you don’t have to worry about those too much. Loose leaves of heavy paper can be bought from art shops if you are making a ring binder grimoire or need to add pages to a screwpost binding style book and are also using heavy inks, paints or making it scrapbook style.

Through all this, remember that the grimoire is primarily meant for you, you aren’t making it for other people, so don’t beat yourself up if it isn’t the most aesthetic and gorgeously professional thing ever. There’s a lot of pretty grimoires online for inspiration, but try not to just completely copy their work, or constantly compare your own creation to other peoples. They likely have been making grimoires for a very long time. As long as it gets the job done and makes you happy, that’s all that matters. It should be a little piece of yourself that looks and feels like you.

Things to possibly include in your grimoire

Witches never have to do all of these, it is your path so pick and choose what inspires you!

Most grimoires have a title page including the date it was started and your magical name if you have one.

Some people include an invisibility sigil to prevent prying eyes, a curse that punishes them for looking or a warning that this book isn’t for them. Others bless their book!

Many people have a contents page so they can remember where to find the information they need.

A lot of witches include a personal introduction, explaining what brought them to the craft, a bit about who they are, favourite things like herbs, crystals and colours, any familiars they work with or any magical abilities they have. Some people almost make a little correspondence page about themselves, including key herbs, a natal chart, their birth tarot card and personal sigil.

Not all magical practitioners work with deities in their craft or are religious at all, but if you are, having a section about your deity or whole pantheon is a good idea. Write about what your deity acts like, what they are the deity of/over, things they enjoy as offerings or how you came to first begin working with them.

If you follow a wheel of the year or have celebrations, a page on these is a good idea. What does the celebration represent? What are some ideas for activities to do then? What does it mean to you?

Some people have a series of morals or tenants they follow and believe in. Maybe write down yours for your path.

The main chunk of the grimoire should be about what you work with. This could be plants, food, crystals, animals, colours, astrology, planetary magic, fair folk, magical creatures and much more! For each entry, explain the concept’s or item’s correspondences and uses, whether that be the common use or your personal uses and associations, what the item is like, where to find it, folklore about it, non-magical and mundane uses and maybe how to make it if it is something like food.

Another big chunk is often common spells, potions, practices or rituals you do and how to do them. Spells such as banishing, protecting, removing curses are all popular spells to record in a grimoire and meditation, grounding and centering methods are some non-spell things that are still important for many witches to know.

You might also want to talk about different types of spells in general, how to create one and what the differences are between them.

Some people talk about the tools they use, especially in practices like traditional Wicca, where there are important tools like chalices and athames. More universal tools like taglocks are another good thing to cover.

It's a good idea to talk about the divination methods there are or just the ones you personally use if you use any. Also cover any layouts, spreads or boards you might use. Witches don’t have to do divination, so if you don’t, you don’t have to include it!

Some people include a section on magical theory, how they believe magic works. You could also do a section on how divination works for you. Some people think it helps introspection and decisions while others think it helps peer into possible futures.

You might want to include different alphabets relevant to your practice. If your practice is norse based, different futharks might be useful, whereas for hellenic practices, ancient greek alphabets will probably be of more use. The theban or witches’ alphabet is a common alphabet to be found in modern grimoires. Alphabets can help you code things from prying eyes or make sigils.

If you do ancestor or spirit work, you could talk about your ancestors or the spirits you work with. What they were/are like, wisdom they have passed on to you and other information you think is important.

Talk about how to work with spirits if you work with them. How to call them, how to respect them and how to banish them are important things to know.

If your path is a pre-existing one, talk about the history and origin of your type of witchcraft. If religion is heavily important to your path, talk about the history and how it has changed over time too. If your path is unique to you, talk about how you discovered and formed it!

Most witches include folktales, superstition or local wisdom and customs from their area. This could be ghost tales, how to keep crops safe, or even local magical goings on, anything that connects you to the land of your area.

Some people have people in their family who did things that could be considered magical. Many people used to do divination, herbalism (herbalism isn’t inherently witchcraft, it is using plants for healing and health and may or may not have a magical element to it) or use country wisdom and did not consider themselves witches or magical practitioners. Maybe talk about your relative or if you are an open witch and they are still around, ask their opinions and thoughts on matters and include a section on them.

If you are a hereditary witch, you could talk about what you’ve learnt from your family too! Though I feel you probably don’t need my advice on making a grimoire if you are one XD

Some people talk about places that feel magical to them. Explain exactly how the area makes you feel, maybe the reason why or what you have found in that place.

Always remember, your grimoire will never truly be finished, you’ll get it to catch up with your current knowledge at points and may not add new stuff for a bit, but part of being a witch is always learning, so there’ll be more to add soon! It is also important to keep in mind, there is no shame in remaking your grimoire or having to get another volume, it is the collection of your knowledge and it's actually quite common for experienced witches to have multiple volumes of their grimoire or old ones they don’t really refer to anymore, I know grimoires are often talked about in a singular way but it really is common to have multiple.

Most of all, have fun with it. Make your grimoire! I wish you a pleasant journey on your long and winding path <3

Resources!

How to press flowers: https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/how-to-press-flowers.html

Types of binding: https://www.studentbookbinding.co.uk/blog/types-of-binding

Magical alphabets and historical alphabets: https://www.omniglot.com/

British plant, fungi and animal species: https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife-explorer

British plant and fungi species: https://www.plantlife.org.uk/uk/discover-wild-plants-nature/plant-fungi-species

British plant, fungi and animal species: https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/

(I’m British so these are the resources I know are good for the UK)

#grimoire #grimoire ideas #grimoire prompts #witchblr #witchcraft #magic #wakingwitchblr #witch community #witch #witchythings #baby witch #new witch #wizard work #references #this is long and rambly and its the first proper informational post I've made so I hope its good and no one yells at me :/#nervous!!!

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bbnibini · 3 years

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PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-three🔖

Rain welcomed the night, bringing a cool and gentle breeze. Seasons for drizzles have started in Devildom, spotting the outdated cobblestone streets with puddles and petrichor. Mammon, in his unusually graceful way, held you by the hand and calmly told you to stay under the awning of a closed restaurant nearby as he hunts for a store that sold an umbrella. His search didn’t take long, as you had barely formed any idle thoughts when he, panting softly beside you, offered a flimsy plastic disposable and wiped his wet hair in futility–doing so with an already damp handkerchief was no good, but the weight of your conversation earlier made you hesitate on bringing out your thoughts. You had both been unbelievably silent once you answered his question,

“Do you prefer it if I act like this?”

It was as if your brain went on autopilot when you responded…

[ I don’t like it. ]

(Mammon’s affection+10)

…not missing the slight upwards curve of his lips. You wanted to ask him further, but he had gone contemplative on your walk. The only time he talked to you again in your uncomfortable silence was to ask you if he can hold your hand when both of you felt the first few drops of rain in the sky. He calmly yet bashfully said that he didn’t want you to get wet; that he would run as fast as he could and asked if you could match his strides. He had always been sweet and thoughtful, but it was rare for him to be so direct about it. Even so, you somehow felt that it was still wrong to ask questions back, especially if he seemed to distance from you since your response. His excuse, “I don’t want you to get wet.” made too much sense that you wish it didn’t so you’d have the right to at least be even slightly annoyed with him. Was he such a gentleman tonight! Your heart couldn’t calm down!

His peculiar behaviour did not escape notice upon reaching home. Lucifer wasn’t there when you arrived, but Satan made a good substitute (don’t ever tell him that to his face though) for your usual serving of scoldings. His friendly smiles carried a sinister air to them, his “gentle” inquiries even the more.

“Where have you two been and why are you wet, Mammon?”

You turned to the said demon who remained composed and unflinching. He smiled as if he were ashamed. “They waited for me at my part time job hence my appearance. I apologise.”

Ah. Satan looked as surprised as you were. His handsome and almost unfittingly angelic features drew closer to his elder and scrutinised him with a careful eye. “Are you really Mammon?” he must have been so taken aback to hastily dog ear his book. The usual him would have been inflamed at even the thought. Asmo learned it the hard way when he borrowed a grimoire of curses just a week ago—something something to rid himself of an unwanted suitor. You could hear him now, his representative sin flickering within his emerald eyes with all its wrathful glory: “Only a barbarian wouldn’t use a bookmark!”

But there was none of that now. Instead, he looked somewhat disturbed. Understandable—you didn’t know what’s going on either.

“The very one.” Mammon replied, fixing the loose spectacles edging away from his nose bridge. “Now, if you excuse me, I shall procure a change of clothes for myself. And…” he turned to you and called your name. “Feel free to eat dinner first. I must clean up the mess I made with my drenched state. I will be back as soon as I could.”

He lied. The empty dinner table now housed a Beelzebub who came to obtain “rations” occasionally, only to be stopped by a still-smiling Satan, sans the book he had been pre-occupied with when you entered the mansion. His nails seemed newly polished–a habit he only practised once he had finished the chores for that night; Asmodeus was an accomodating beautician, more than willing to help Satan finish painting the fingers of his non-dominant hand with his usual artistic flourish. Even so, he still accompanied you to dinner, insisting that he was hungry, and even complied to your request to wait for Mammon who hadn’t shown a shadow of his presence for more than an hour. Both of you exchanged a look of worry. Your stomach voiced out its complaint as well, but you paid it no mind.

“What’s taking him so long?”

Satan didn’t answer. Instead, he insisted you should start eating. The absence of hostility on his features only made you even the more tense; the occasional clinking of your glass, as well as the sound of fork and knife hitting on older-than-your-grandma porcelain not helping on calming you down. Painful minutes have passed with silence, only interrupted by the occasional Beelzebub, rummaging the food that Satan left untouched.

“Is it okay if he takes your dinner?"

Satan made a sound of approval, pretending to be interested in your conversation; but you can see it in his eyes that he was distracted by something. "Anything bothering you?” you asked, causing the glazed look in his eyes to finally disappear. ‘Ah, he’s back’, you could not help but think. “Don’t mind me and eat your food.”

But you minded and you minded a lot. It was unusual for him to be so distracted especially in the presence of someone else. He had always been careful about how he acted in front of others (even to his own family), so whatever was bothering him must be serious. Was it about Mammon? He kept on looking at his empty seat after all. Sighs were heard from his side, brows furrowed for most of dinner. “I’m already finished.” you answered, hoping he’d finally be willing to share his obvious worries with you but he kept silent. You decided to speak again.

“I’ll take care of the dishes,” you paused and gauged his expressions. “So, can you please tell me what’s going on? Is there anything I should know?” If what he was worrying about was Mammon and his strange behaviour, then you’d rather cut all pleasantries and get to the point. You had a feeling that Satan would let it slide this time. True to your gut feelings, his tense expressions finally relaxed, turning to Beelzebub to give his approval for the said avatar of gluttony to take his dessert pudding.

“I think I might know what’s going on with him. I’ve encountered it before in one of my readings. However…” his expression turned serious again. “I cannot fathom how he succumbed to it. His mental strength is the best among us.”

Mental strength?

Satan nodded as you spoke out loud. “I’m willing to talk to you about it in my room. I don’t want Mammon to hear it.” He looked to your leftmost side where your DDD was located. “Do you mind if you message him first?"

A message was sent, read and replied to after a few minutes with perfect grammar and punctuation. There was none of his usual accent in his text lingo, making you unnerved but you kept it to yourself.

Mammoney

Understood. I shall retire for the night then. Thank you for worrying about me. Good night and, I love you.

You saw Satan’s face pale as he read Mammon’s reply on your notifications tab, muttering something about how ridiculous it all was and you couldn’t help but agree. It was sweet though, at least in your own biased, rose-coloured eyes. If Levi were here, he would have cried out, "NORMIES EXPLODE!!!” in injustice and you would have laughed at his face.

Satan’s room was the same as usual—cluttered yet organised, teeming with books at every corner. There was an occasional cat artwork on the walls, a huge bulletin board-whiteboard hybrid containing book quotes and daily reminders. A faint smell of cat food was in the air, his green sweater (that looked like it was covered in cat hair) folded neatly on the sofa. He took it and threw it in his hamper and asked you to sit there. “This would take a while.” he smiled sheepishly and gestured you to look at his whiteboard, erasing Hemingway and Frost from its corner. Tomorrow’s groceries were transferred to a post-it note and pinned on a free corner of the bulletin board. Perhaps due to the ink staying there for too long, it still left a faint, smudged stain, easily fixed by a wet tissue and some rubbing alcohol. He began writing anyway, leaving that little chore of his to-do for later.

“Too difficult (that) you need to draw it?”, you asked.

Satan chuckled. “It’s easier to understand with some diagrams, don’t you think?"

"He isn't…involved in anything dangerous, is he?"

Satan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving up to a teasing smile. "He already is even before this all happened.”

You remembered the witches,and just the other day, an irate restaurant owner demanding you to pay for the damages he caused on his part-time job. Ah…

“You’re right.” You stared at the diagram he was drawing on the whiteboard, familiar with the runes and symbols arranged in concentric fashion. You began to feel nervous. “A magic circle?"

"A curse,” He corrected. “A popular one at that, that utilises hypnotism as its medium. You must have seen it before.”

You considered it and looked at the runes again, drawing a blank. Satan noticed this and reluctantly gave you a hint. A faint blush coloured his cheeks as he recited the familiar lines:

“Badazim, Badaboom, on my count of one and two, reform the wayward you, Alakazam Alakaglum, you are no longer (a) scum!"

"Mr. Magic!!” You shouted (just as he finished his embarrassing chant). “Now that I look at the runes again, it does look like the magic circle he taught us to use!"

Mr. Magic was a popular kids’ show in Devildom that was comparable to Human world’s Spongeb☆b. It was enjoyable to watch even as an adult, and appealed to even the angels. You often watched it with Luke whenever they invited you for a sleepover at their dormitory. Its most popular episode, simply titled as Mr. Magic’s Hypnosis Special was such a huge hit in Devildom and Heaven that it caused a hypnosis craze a few hundred years ago(at least that’s what Levi had told you). Apparently, one of the spells Mr. Magic taught in that episode was one that reformed bad demons to good ones. Honestly, you were surprised about that. You didn’t have the warmest welcome when you got here so you assumed the human world’s portrayal of hell was pretty close to reality. However, they were surprisingly grey like humans are. Getting closer to the demons in the exchange program only proved that point further.

"Right, the very one. Remember when Mammon fell victim to that a few months back?"

You heard about it but didn’t actually get to see Mammon acting like a "good demon” as his brothers had hinted you, but based on their reactions and Mammon’s embarrassment, it must have been quite a sight to behold.

“Don’t tell me that he fell for it twice?"

Satan made a complicated face. "Yes and no. Frankly, I still don’t understand how anyone could fall for the same trick twice. Mammon may be an idiot but he isn’t stupid.” The roundabout way he complimented his elder was almost heartwarming. Satan drew a huge question mark next to the magic circle. “He’s also really strong,” he added. “And is the most mentally resilient of us brothers. It doesn’t make sense that he’s acting like this.”

“Did someone trick him?"

"Possible, but we cannot know for sure. However, it would be troublesome if my other brothers would know about it.”

“Why so?"

"Lucifer would get all annoying again and blame us for what happened with Mammon. He’s his favourite after all.”

He frowned when you suddenly burst in laughter. “Ah, you laugh now but you should see him. I’m speaking the truth, you know. If you don’t want to hear a litany of scoldings, why don’t you agree to help me fix this?"

"Not like I’d refuse anyway.” you shrugged.

“That makes things easier then. Let’s take advantage of the situation.” He walked towards a stack of books and spoke again. “Where is he now?"

"He’s asleep.”

“Are you sure?"

"Like a baby,” you answered. “He had a long day.”

Nodding, Satan took a grimoire from an unstable stack of books. It reminded you of jenga nights with the brothers with how he carefully slid the said book out(minus his attempts to bring it back to balance) once he had gotten what he wanted. “Actually, now that I think about it…there might be one reason why he’s doing this that makes sense…”

“Hm?” he was speaking so softly that you didn’t hear him. Satan shook his head. “Nevermind. Let’s act fast while he’s still asleep.”

You quietly agreed and led him to your shared room where Mammon was sleeping soundly. He had always been a heavy sleeper so it was often a struggle for you to wrestle your blankets out of his grasp at times when he sleeps before you. As you expected—he was cuddling your blanket again and snoring softly on his side of the bed. Satan looked at you and whispered. “I’ll start?” You nodded and opened the bedside lamp for him. “Thank you.” You stepped back and watched as Satan’s magical energy enveloped him in glowing emerald, a colour he associated with as well as his representative sin. Some foreign words were chanted—a reversed version of the magic circle he drew earlier was hovering over your sleeping lover and covering his entire body. As Satan finished his chants, a splash of light enveloped Mammon, disappearing into a puff of smoke and leaving a scent of sulphur in the air–which, in your months of learning about curses and hexes, was something you understood is an indication that a spell had been casted properly.

“That should do it.” Satan closed his grimoire, looking satisfied with the results. “He should be back to normal once he wakes up.”

Your heart was filled with gratitude. While you liked the change, it did leave you with mixed feelings, especially after hearing that Mammon’s graceful behaviour was a result of a curse. As much as you loved how much of a gentleman he was for today, you preferred it if he acted like himself. “Thank you, Satan. I really appreciate it.”

Satan looked bashful with your sudden show of sincerity. “It’s nothing.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked to his side. “About what I said earlier…”

“Earlier?”

He shook his head and muttered, “No, it doesn’t matter anymore. Well, have a good night.”

“Good night to you too.”

You felt really tired after you heard the door being shut gently so you lied next to Mammon on the bed and wrapped your arms around him. “Good night, Mammon.” you said as you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and shut your eyes tightly, wishing for sleep.

💌💌💌

You woke up the next morning feeling like you’ve forgotten something important. You turned to your side to see that Mammon was still sound asleep, unable to escape from him as he had wrapped his arms around your waist. Not like you were in a hurry to wake up anyway, you thought to yourself as you smiled and parted the bangs obscuring your beloved demon’s handsome face. The gesture made him stir in his sleep, his tightly shut eyes opening slightly.

“Sorry, you should get a bit more sleep.”

His mouth opened slightly, holding back a yawn. He moaned in protest and nuzzled to you even closer, not saying a word.

“You want to stay like this?” you felt him nod from the crook of your neck. “Okay, I don’t mind that,” You nodded back and stroked his head; but just as your hand was about to touch his hair, you felt him pull away from you(almost by force) as he sat on the bed and rummaged the bedside drawer.

His pair of spectacles now sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his hair tidied up a bit through his attempt of combing it with his fingers. It was odd: he looked a lot like himself yesterday but something was…out of place.

“M-My apologies, I have shown you such a disgraceful appearance.” he turned to you and smiled shakily. “Good morning, hu…my love.”

Huh?!

>continue to next scenario

💌masterlist

*A/N: The curse and Mr. Magic are based on the "Demon Brothers (New)" chatroom called Hypnosis Time 1.

#psisly #hamartia series #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #interactive fiction #cyoa #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

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