lost hex

Imagine you’ve been cursed by a magical entity and turned into a python. Not knowing how to break the hex, you wander aimlessly in forests. One day, you spy a tall, dark haired man near your lair, looking as lost as you feel. You notice him using magic to throw pebbles into a lake, making them dance on water. Feeling hopeful for a cure, you cautiously slither closer to him. You’re afraid he might try to kill you, but a chance at being back to your old self, drives you forth.

Loki sees the python approaching and notes that there is something special about the creature. It almost seems sentient. He decides not to harm it. It slithers up to him and sits next to him, much to his surprise. Loki greets the snake, internally deriding himself for talking to an animal, but the snake gives a little head shake of acknowledgement, surprising Loki again.

From then on, Loki visits the lake daily, and the snake comes up to him every time. They sit together, he talks about himself, vents about his woes, and it makes him feel better. On a lark, he decides to take the python as his pet, for it’s very docile and friendly. He keeps the snake in his palace chambers, which he doesn’t let anyone visit. They form a nice camaraderie, wherein Loki often reads with the python coiled on his arm and shoulder, or it hangs around him while he tests new spells and improves them. He gives it lots of treats and is delighted when the snake coils itself around him almost affectionately. The snake slowly becomes bolder, and one day, Loki wakes up to find it coiled around his naked torso in bed. It strikes him as odd, but he’s unable to reject it, thinking it seeks comfort. He allows it to become their routine, with the python coming to sleep in his bed every night. Around same time, Loki begins to dream vividly, of a fair maiden making love to him. During one such dream, he wakes up….. to a surprise: his fair maiden from the dreams is intimately wrapped around his body, and his pet python is nowhere in sight.

Somehow, the hex is broken… and you’re not even aware of it until you open your eyes and look directly into Loki’s shocked ones.

A Court of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Part II

The ACOTAR Hogwarts AU that nobody asked for.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the kind comments and feedback! I hope this chapter lives up to the previous one. I am very sorry to say that I am currently on vacation and will therefore not be updating for about another week or so. (It will probably be next Friday or Saturday that the next chapter is posted.) Again, please feel free to comment/leave constructive criticism. Enjoy!

Part One | Read on Ao3


Cassian woke before the sun. He sluggishly rolled out of bed, dragging himself down to the Quidditch pitch in the early morning light. He woke himself up by flying laps around the field, looping and swerving and practicing all the maneuvers he’d learned over the summer. By the time the fog had lifted and breakfast had been served, a gaggle of groggy Gryffindors with broomsticks in hand had joined him for tryouts.

In the Great Hall, Rhys and Feyre languidly filled their plates with toast and eggs. Mor, despite school policy, was still in pajamas. With a yawn, Mor said, “So what’s the plan for today, Rhys?”

Rhys hummed pensively. “I’m not sure. Maybe Az can sneak us into the Shrieking Shack. Any opinions, Feyre darling?”

“We should all go down to the lake for lunch. We can practice nonverbal spells,” Feyre suggested.

“Or maybe,” Rhys purred, nipping at Feyre’s ear, “We could stay behind and practice something else, just the two of us.”

Mor rolled her eyes and poured a glass of orange juice. “Seriously, Rhys, save it for the bedroom. I don’t want to hear about your sex life, especially not at eight in the morning.”

“My apologies, cousin,” Rhys said with a grin that suggested otherwise. Arm wrapped tight around Feyre’s waist, he continued, “Although, speaking of romance…has anyone caught the Morrigan’s eye, recently? Any hot guys?” He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at the last part, taking an amused sip of coffee.

Mor and Feyre exchanged an uneasy glance. There were still some things that had yet to be revealed among their Inner Circle, despite how often Feyre assured her friend no judgements would be made. But Rhys, oblivious to whatever secrets were being kept, did not pick up on the glance shared between the two women. He looked at Mor expectantly.

Pushing a long breath between her teeth and forcing a strained smile, Mor said, “Not yet.”

There was a jarring clatter as Amren slammed her silver goblet on the table, red liquid splashing out over the rim as she jammed herself into the sliver of space beside Mor. “Gods, Amren,” Mor said sourly, “Don’t bother asking before you sit.”

“I never do,” Amren quipped.

Mor scowled, using her napkin to soak up some of the spilled drink. Peering at the stained cloth with mild disgust, she asked, “What the hell even is this stuff?” If she didn’t know better, she’d say it looked like blood.

Amren gave a feline grin, sharp as knives. “Juice,” she answered vaguely.

“Ever the drama queen,” Rhys said wryly.

“Worried I’ll steal your title?” Amren taunted. She patted his hand with false comfort. “It’s okay, Rhysand, everyone knows the queen has more power than the king anyway.”

Rhys snorted, but it was Feyre who replied, “And don’t let him forget it.” The three girls clinked their goblets together in a toast and burst into laughter.

Nesta was waiting by the entrance of the locker rooms when Cassian walked off the pitch, his new team lagging behind. “Nesta,” he said when he saw her, surprise coloring his voice. He leaned his broomstick against the wall and combed his sweaty hair back, tying it in a sloppy bun.

“You,” she acknowledged, sounding tired.

Cassian seemed to notice that the usual venom in her tone was lacking. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing with concern. “What’s wrong, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that,” Nesta snapped on instinct, her spine straightening. Any hint of previous vulnerability had vanished, leaving only ice in its wake.

“Sorry,” Cassian said with a grin, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “Old habits.”

Nesta pursed her lips, but decided against arguing any further. “Elain told me that you didn’t eat breakfast so – here.” Her words were rushed, as if nervous, though her face revealed no emotion. In her hand, held out as far from her as possible, was a sandwich wrapped neatly in foil. Cassian tried to catch Nesta’s gaze, but she refused to meet it, opting to stare intently at a spot just above his shoulder.

Taking the sandwich gingerly, Cassian let his fingers hesitate on hers. He watched her delicate throat as she swallowed, her eyes now drawn down to where his hand dwarfed hers, the rough callouses of his palms snagging against her own smooth skin.

Then, quick as lightning, Nesta yanked away sharply. “Okay,” she announced, straightening her already pristine robes, “That was all. Goodbye, Cassian.” She spun around to leave.

“Wait!” Cassian called out after her, taking a few stumbling steps forward as if to follow.

Nesta glanced over her shoulder, a single eyebrow arched. “Yes?”

“I –” There was a pause as a jumble of words got stuck in Cassian’s throat. He finally settled on asking, “Where are you going?”

“The library,” Nesta answered. “Morrigan and the others will be expecting you at the lake for lunch.” And with that, she disappeared back inside the castle.

Cassian let out a long sigh. He wondered if he would ever get to see Nesta Archeron as she truly was, without all her armor and defenses. He couldn’t explain why, but he desperately wanted her to trust him – gods knew he already trusted her with his life.


“That’s not fair!” Mor bellowed, face flushed with embarrassment. She was still recovering from Amren’s silent cantis jinx, the thunderous laughter of her friends echoing in her ears.

Amren smirked. “You really are wonderful singer.”

Mor growled, arcing her wand above her head in a counterjinx. A quick shout of “Protego!” came from Rhys before any damage could be done, leaving the two females to glare at each other from their respective side of the invisible shield.

“Well, well,” a silky voice slithered over the group and a blonde with calculating turquoise eyes emerged from behind a neighboring grove of trees. Everyone instinctively tensed, and Rhys subtly moved to stand in front of Feyre. “Having issues within the Dream Team, are we?”

Bristling, Feyre pushed past her boyfriend. Now mere inches away from the other girl, she threatened, “Get lost, Ianthe, before I hex your toes off.”

Ianthe wasn’t fazed. She shrugged. “I’m not scared of you, little mudblood.”

“Maybe you should be,” Feyre snarled, wand sliding out of her cloak sleeve and into her palm. Her fingers gripped the wand handle so hard her knuckles were turning white.

“Feyre darling,” Rhys began with an air of warning.

Pursing her lips, Ianthe peered over Feyre’s shoulder. With a sigh, she bemoaned, “Oh, how disappointing. I thought for sure my dearest Lucien would be hanging around you lot.” She grinned wickedly. “Lucien and I have recently become quite…close.”

With a ferocious battlecry, Feyre abandoned her wand and launched herself at Ianthe, opting to tackle her to the ground instead of using magic. Feyre’s knees rested on either side of Ianthe’s hips, fingers seeking out the blonde’s throat. Ianthe choked out a laugh, provoking Feyre’s grip to tighten.

Azriel and Rhys dove at Feyre, tugging her away by the back of her cloak. “Don’t you dare,” Feyre spat, absolutely venomous, “Don’t you fucking dare talk about Lucien ever you filthy –”

“Feyre,” Rhys murmured, his thumb ghosting across her cheekbone, “She isn’t worth it.”

Still laying on the ground, Ianthe rasped, “Go on, mudblood. Run away like the coward you are.”

It took all of Az and Rhys’s strength to hold Feyre at bay, though neither of them would have been particularly heartbroken if she had gotten free and hurled herself into another attack.

In the end, it was Elain who stooped, grasping Ianthe’s shirtfront and forcing her to her feet. “Leave,” she commanded, so quiet and menacing that even Ianthe had the good sense to look afraid. Elain shoved the conniving bitch in the opposite direction, sending Ianthe stumbling off.

“Conniving bitch,” Mor declared.

“I hope she rots in Hell,” Amren agreed.

Feyre was still trembling with rage when Azriel released her. “You okay?” He asked.

She shook her head, feeling sick to her stomch. “No. What Ianthe does – it’s disgusting. It’s a violation and someone needs to stop her.”

Rhys gently wrapped her in a warm embrace, stroking her hair comfortingly. “We’ll talk to one of the professors. The headmaster, perhaps.”

“I’ve already tried,” Feyre sighed, “And nobody believes me.”

“We could always cut her hands off,” Amren suggested.

Unamused, Rhys instantly responded, “Absolutely not.”

Amren shrugged. “It was just an idea.”

“And it’s not half bad,” Feyre mused, tilting her head in consideration. Amren grinned.

Rhys let out a sound of exasperation. Placing a delicate kiss on Feyre’s cheek, he simply said, “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

Feyre drew back. “Are you calling me dumb, Rhysand?”

“No! I would never!”

As the couple bickered lovingly, Azriel drifted over to Elain. He knelt, plucking a small white daisy from the ground. He held it out to her in silent offering, and she beamed. Instead of keeping it, however, Elain rocked onto her tiptoes and reached up to tuck the flower behind his ear.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

Azriel’s lips parted as if he were about to say something, but then he clenched his jaw shut as he reconsidered. He took a step backwards. “Where’s Cassian?” He wondered.

Elain ducked her head, peeking through her golden eyelashes at Az with a mischievous smile dimpling her cheeks. “The library,” she answered.


Part Three

| Sonic Chaos | Chapter One : Eggman Blows Up His Own Ship

( A/N:  This is REVISED FROM THE ORIGINAL!!! Thank you all for being patient while I revised parts of the story! I love you all!! Also, thank you @lightningstar1389 for illustrating this chapter! )


                                                ~Chapter One~

It was a warm summer evening where Sonic The Hedgehog and his best friend, Tails, decided to rest for the day. Lounging lazily in their beach chairs, they watched the sun set peacefully in the distance. The powerful duo had recently been on back to back adventures for the last few months; saving an entire race of aliens, fixing space and time, and almost accidentally draining the entire planet of its life force can be quite exhausting.

Sonic took a moment to focus on the silence around him. He closed his eyes and took a deep, slow breath. He wanted to hear nothing but the calm noise of the waves crashing onto shore and the distant call of seagulls on the horizon. The sound of the beach had always calmed him down, despite his irrational fear of the ocean.

“This is nice.” he said calmly.

Keep reading

4

Coming up with a set of Misdreavus variations was a lot of fun, so I decided to expand on that with evolutions and descriptions!

A few additional notes on certain breeds:

  • Sighs and Blessings’ songs and sounds are very soft and slow, sometimes never raised above a hum. They often bring themselves very close to people and other Pokemon to sing their songs to them, and they love cuddling.
  • Bans on Damnation Mismagius became widespread after several cases of them killing other Pokemon in trainer battles. Wild Gengar and Mismagius typically view one another as competitors, so this breed almost never appears in the wild. Thank god.
  • Hex Mismagius, unlike Chandelure, never harm their victims. They love watching their confusion and frustration, but should a person become absolutely, irredeemably lost, Hexes will often feel remorse and help them find their way back to where they were.
  • If you can adjust to the amount of noise they make, Echoes and Charms are fantastic pets. They’re easy to train, loving, friendly, and loyal. It’s often argued between breeders whether or not Blessing or Charm Mismagius make better pets.
  • There are no records of what a Curse Mismagius’ song sounds like. Most researchers theorize that Curses’ songs can only be heard by other Ghost-type Pokemon.
The Alien Alliance

“So, you are Zavok leader of the Zeti. I have heard much about you and your prowless in battle. You probably don’t know who I am or how I came to be on Lost Hex. However, I can assure you that my intentions aren’t harmful to your race. All I desire from you is a partnership of mutual gain. You do something for me and I will return the favor by doing something for you. As a bonus I will even offer some information you might find interesting about Sonic the Hedgehog. You’d like to hear that information, I’m sure you would. He defeated you and your allies surely you wish to have revenge on him? I certainly would want such data if it were me.”

Eclipse made his way to close the gap between himself and the large red alien smiling widely as he did so. He was definitely not a Mobian or a Zeti but still alien to both worlds based on his appearance. His glowing eyes shone brightly whenever he walked into the shade of a tree. Once he felt he was close enough he stopped.

“Oh, forgive my rudeness I haven’t introduced myself yet have I? My name is Eclipse the Darkling also known as the last living remnant of the Black Arms. My race attempted to take over Mobius some years ago but because one of our own betrayed us we were all wiped out. I am all that remains of my race it is sad…”

When GUN was planning for their Space Colony ARK project, they discovered the Lost Hex hiding in the upper atmospheric levels of the planet. They sent soldiers up to investigate, who disappeared shortly after arrival. GUN pulled out and declared the mini-planet unsafe. Myths about the disappearances were spread for 50+ years, which was how Eggman knew about the conch and how Sonic and Tails weren’t particularly surprised or questioning about its existence.

people keep giving ginny grief about hexing zacharias smith in the train prior to the slug meeting, but i think she’s perfectly justified? 

here’s this boy who she remembered from the hogs head meeting where he was rude, aggressive, and demanded harry publicly recount a traumatizing experience that happened to him only a few months prior - an experience which he constantly blames himself for and suffers nightmares from. smith had nothing nice to say to anyone for the remainder of the meeting and left many people with a distinctly unfavorable impression.

fast forward to the train meeting where zacharias is harassing ginny for not giving him details about a very recent experience that clearly upsets her - her and her friends were attacked, injured and nearly murdered by grown death-eaters, someone dear to her had been murdered (sirius), and voldemort had shown himself for the first time in public since the graveyard scene. she has every right to not want to talk about that night and is under no obligation to cure smith’s insatiable hunger for information that he scathingly criticizes and attempts to deny anyway.

smith didn’t just ask once and then drop it when she showed no interest in responding, instead he kept at it until she lost her temper and hexed him - something which he deserved, frankly.

tl;dr harassment isn’t cool and people making ginny out to be a villain can get lost. 

youtube

YES MR.ANNOUNCER GUY! I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO DEFEAT THE DEADLY SIX! BRING EM ON!

anonymous asked:

Rumbelle harry potter au - they could be students, or student/proffesor, or both professors, or hey not even at hogwarts - gimme gimme RP

Rare Interests

Belle had an alchemy essay due Monday.

However, Belle also had an essential research project on lost medieval hexes that needed work, and while she wasn’t getting graded on it per se, she was very much invested in it. After all, if she hoped to graduate with any chance of being hired back as a teacher, she needed to prove she had the aptitude for independent research. And it did help that hexes were so much more interesting than alchemical transformations.

The essay could wait: there was a binding hex used in fifth century France that would explain and link several apparently disparate muggle accounts, if only she could find the original grimoire.

The grimoire that was, according to the librarian, safely locked away in the restricted section.

Meaning that Belle had a decision to make. She could beg a member of the faculty to do the research for her, she could wait a year, move on to another section, and hope she was hired back and finish this section when she had her own access… or she could break into the restricted section in the dead of night, and hope the book didn’t contain any hexes of its own.

If she asked someone and they said no, then if they found out someone had accessed the tome without permission she’d be the prime suspect. And Belle knew she couldn’t wait a year or more, risking this crucial discovery on the vagaries of Hogwarts hiring practices. She needed it, and she needed it now.

Which was how she ended up in the library, covered in misdirection spells, the softest of lights emanating from the tip of her wand, in the dead of night. At least she spent so much time in the library that actually finding the book through the obscure filing system wasn’t a problem.

The tome, when she located it, wasn’t even wailing. “Belle five,” she murmured under her breath, “Library zero.”

She took a deep breath, ready to utter a silencing spell should it scream upon opening, and found the page the last book she’d studied had referred her to. 

Then she settled down on the floor, crosslegged with the book in her lap, and started to read.

“You know, dearie,” a voice came through the darkness, startling the life out of her. Belle slammed the book shut and scrambled to her feet, unsure of how much time had passed. Professor Gold wasn’t even looking at her, but at a place just to the side of her head. “Misdirection spells are all well and good, but some of us have keener senses than you’d think.”

Belle waved her wand and muttered the counter-spell, removing the charm. Her heart was racing, hammering against her ribs: she’d never been caught breaking the rules before, too clever and quick to alert attention, too studious and quiet for anyone to suspect her. And it would have to be Gold, the only professor in the school she was certain didn’t like her. He’d enjoy taking away house points or setting detention: he might even have her prefect status taken away for this. 

“Ah, much better,” Gold smiled, all sharp teeth and malice, and Belle shuddered. “Now, come along Miss French, spin me some glorious tale about how you were here studying extra hard for my alchemy essay, and simply forgot this section is utterly out of bounds to students. Even to seventh-year prefects who think they know better.”

“I’m… not doing your alchemy essay, Professor,” Belle admitted, deciding that honesty was now the best policy as another lie would only dig her in deeper. “I’m writing a thesis on lost medieval hexes and their relation to muggle folklore, and the book I needed was here. I thought if I asked, someone might have said no.”

“Oh they’d definitely have said no,” Gold agreed, absently, but he was frowning in thought, with interest even, rather than with anger. “You know, Miss French might be the first student I’ve ever caught in here doing independent study.”

“Does that mean I’m not getting detention?” Belle asked, hopefully. That earned a chuckle from Gold, a surprisingly warm sound. He was holding a lantern, and in the lamplight his face was cast in new shadows, golden as his name, and he didn’t seem severe as much as thoughtful, even handsome. 

Where the hell had that thought come from? Belle blinked hard: she clearly needed more sleep than she was getting. Gold was a nightmare, a strict teacher with a nasty growl and nastier bite, whose alchemy elective course was accepted as the hardest in the school. He only allowed those with the highest exam results to take it, and he was biting and even cruel to anyone who didn’t do the reading, or asked him a stupid question.

It was a school-wide mystery how this man, who delighted in torturing his students, had ever been sorted into Hufflepuff. Everyone agreed the Sorting Hat must have made a mistake: this snarling, taciturn man, who’d made his name with a formula to turn straw into gold and had immediately burned his research and refused to ever teach another witch or wizard, could ever have been anything but a Slytherin.

“You’re definitely getting detention, Miss French,” Gold said, as if there had never been any question of it. “Come along now dearie, away from the dangerous magical books.”

“They’re only dangerous if you let them be,” Belle argued, stubbornly. “If you stroke their spines and say nice things, even the nasty ones won’t growl too loudly.”

“The same can be said for people,” Gold murmured under his breath, and Belle frowned, unsure where that had come from or if she’d even been supposed to hear it. “In any case,” he said, louder, as he walked briskly away from the restricted section with her trailing behind him, “you will serve two months’ detention for this, Miss French. I can’t have even our most dedicated students flouting the rules whenever they wish.”

He locked the gate to the section behind them, and brought Belle up short. He was very close, and it was an odd moment, tense and awkward, before she stepped back and gave him space. 

“Are you sending me into the Forbidden Forest?” she asked him, curiously, for if that were the case it might not be so bad: lots of interesting plants and animal life to study in the Forest, after all. Gold shook his head.

“No, you’ll serve your detentions with me, Miss French. And trust me, I’m far less pleasant than anything you’ll find out there.”

Belle stared at him, eyebrows knit with confusion, for Gold notoriously loathed students and had only taken up teaching due to Hogwarts’ magnificent research facilities and store of knowledge. “Why?” 

“Your project intrigues me, Miss French,” he explained, and she was stunned - and a little gratified, to her own surprised - when he flashed her a soft, subtle grin. “Before I settled into alchemy, I was quite the authority on muggle folklore, especially as it related to the wizarding world. I thought I might be useful to you.” He looked down at her, gazed more like, and for a moment Belle couldn’t look away. There was something soft, warm, human in his expression that she rarely saw in classes: something yearning, although for what she couldn’t imagine. A protege? Someone to pass his knowledge down to? If so, she was more than willing.

the moment stretched, warm and comfortable if strange, and Belle wondered why her heart was pounding again, why he was in the library so late in the first place, and why she of all people received this leniency from him.

“And you can clean my equipment while you’re at it,” he continued, sharp and bright, a moment later. The moment dispelled as he looked away, “It’s filthy.”

Continued here

SONIC UNIVERSE #76
THE SONIC/MEGA MAN CROSSOVER EVENT BEGINS HERE! It’s the epic first chapter of the biggest story in Sonic/Mega Man comic book history with “Worlds Unite” Part One! Get ready for cross-world treachery as the wicked Sigma escapes the world of Mega Man X and arrives in Dr. Eggman’s secret Lost Hex base!  When Sigma promises new power to the Deadly Six, how long do you think they’ll stay loyal to Dr. Eggman? We’re not betting for long!  And just where exactly are our heroes during all this?  Looks like Sonic and Mega Man are right in the middle of an ambush!  The sense-shattering sequel to “Worlds Collide” starts right now! Featuring cover art from the legendary Patrick “SPAZ” Spaziante, Rafa Knight, and part 1 of the epic 12-part connecting variant cover series by artist Ben Bates!

Script: Ian Flynn
Art: Dan Schoening, Jack Morelli and Luis Delgado
Cover: Patrick “SPAZ” Spaziante
CROSSOVER KICK-OFF Variant Cover: Rafa Knight
Epic Poster Variant (pt1 of 12): Ben Bates
On Sale Date: 5/27
32-page, full color comic
$3.99 U.S