You confessed one day to have been a snake and deceiver But when your moment came, to shed that skin You just slithered away You just slithered away
Crystal clear to us all, when you say “We all want the same thing” That you don’t, you want the bigger piece and the praise There are those who have seen, and those soon to beware What your smoke is concealing Just a trail of bones, atop a lemming’s hill All fallen prey All fallen prey All fallen prey
To the liar, not a saint, not a martyr Just a snake, and a liar
We used to believe, when you’d say “Were all in this together” No more, we all see Now the mirror is broken, we all know what your spell was concealing Just hollow eyes, a stolen crown but Not a king No, not a king No, not a king
Just the liar, not a saint, not a martyr Just a snake, and a liar
Today, after being wary of it for a little while, we conquered our fears and faced The Dreaded Toob™ (and shortly thereafter, once we had our fill of slithering through it approximately one million times, we tried to squeeze it to death like a tough guy)
We were about 3ft from this HUGE Timber Rattlesnake when it appeared out from under a small rock causing us to be quite exhilarated. It casually slithered 5ft away and curled up under the bush. Timber Rattlesnake - Crotalus horridus
I’m well aware that this probably won’t get any nibbles since my dash by and large isn’t particularly part of this specific fandom, and I’m not a well-known enough fanfic writer that people will trust that anything I write in any fandom is good, b u t it never hurts to ask. Well, it can hurt emotionally. Mentally. Eh…
So does anyone wanna be the beta reading test mouse for this young Tony Stark meets the Winter Soldier fic? I promise it’s good, if you like fix-its set in the 90s with 21-year-old Tony Stark sassing HYDRA assassins and well-aged Peggy Carters alike while cheerily pointing out that alien-obsessed death cults hunting him down still isn’t half as bad as 5pm traffic on the Long Island Expressway.
(Also a stupid amount of 80s heavy metal references, because it’s Tony freakin’ Stark for fuck’s sake.)
When the sorcerer found the dragon, it was attacking a grape.
This was only possible because the dragon was not much larger than a grape itself, but she still had to do a double take to be sure the object it was fighting with such animosity was in fact inanimate.
She crouched so that her eyes were level with the top of the table and squinted at it. The dragon sank its tiny fangs into the grape’s skin and gave a great tug, succeeding only in throwing it and the grape into a backwards tumble. The tiny green reptile rolled to a stop with its whole body wrapped around the grape and shook its head ferociously, managing to pull its teeth out but also launching the grape across the table. It gave a mighty roar of anger (about as loud as a human clearing their throat) and stalked after it, tail swishing dangerously.
“Do you need help?” she offered.
The dragon froze mid-prowl and whipped its head around to look at her, looking so offended she almost apologized for asking.
“I mean, I could peel it for you, if that’s the problem.” She wasn’t sure it was getting the message. One could never tell how much human language these little creatures picked up by hanging around the magic labs. Some understood only such essentials as “scat!” or “oh fuck, that sure did just explode”, while others could hold entire conversations — if they deigned to interact.
This one looked like it was deciding whether she was worthy. Finally, it sniffed daintily and flicked its tail, scales clacking together. “Little monster is my prey, and you can’t have it. Found it first. Will devour it!”
“Oh, sure,” she agreed. “But you know it’s a grape, right?”
This was the wrong thing to say. It glared at her and then bounded away to the other end of the table, where it slithered up to the grape and pounced on it.
Grape and dragon promptly rolled off the edge of the table.
The sorcerer quickly went around to that side, alarmed that it would be stepped on. The labs were bustling with shoppers stopping by to watch demonstrations this time of day, and a small dragon wouldn’t be easily visible on the blue and green tiled floor.
“Horrible! Dirty!” The tiny dragon was screeching at the top of its lungs, holding onto its prey for dear life. It would have been hard to hear anyway, with all the noise of the labs, but with the sorcerer’s diminished hearing it took several seconds to locate the screaming creature.
She scanned the pattern of the tiles for it and sighed. “Oh, hold on, we mopped this morning.” She cupped her hands around it and deposited it into her skirt pocket, an indignity the dragon endured only with more screaming.
“An outrage! Put me down!”
“Shh,” she advised. Lab workers were strongly discouraged from bringing creatures into the back rooms, which was where she was heading, picking her way through the crowded front lab.
“Fuck pockets!” her pocket responded.
“Oh, you can curse. Wonderful.”
The dragon seemed to take this as an actual compliment. “Am multitalented. Can also compose poetry.”
“Really? Can I hear some?”
“No. For dragon ears only.” It sounded viciously pleased to hold this over her head. The bulge in her pocket rearranged itself, and she thought it might be trying to gnaw on the grape.
She felt herself smiling even as she tried to squash her mouth into a straight line. She liked this little bad-tempered thing, even though its spiky feet were digging into her thigh.
In the much quieter kitchen of the back rooms behind the lab, she transferred the wriggling, scaly handful from her pocket to the table. The dragon hissed out a few more insults as it got up and straightened itself out, but its jaw fell open when it finally took in its surroundings. She’d set it down next to the fruit bowl.
“There you go. Food mountain.”
The dragon’s shock didn’t last long. Abandoning the grape, it scraped and scrabbled its way up the side of the bowl and from there onto an apple, its claws leaving tiny puncture marks as it hiked to the top of the arrangement. “Food mountain!” It repeated, its gleeful crowing much clearer and almost sing-song without having to compete with the noise of the crowd.
She watched it turn in a circle, surveying the feast. “But… cannot eat it all,” it observed after a while, crestfallen. “Human-sized. Big shame.”
“Don’t you have nest-mates who can help you with it?” she asked. She had assumed not, from the way it had apparently been foraging for food on its own, but she needed to be sure she’d found a loner.
“No nest. No mates. No nest-mates. You’re rude.” It flopped down ungracefully, wings spread out flat on the apple like it was trying to hug the entire much-larger fruit.
She gave it a moment to be dramatic, and then offered it the grape, minus the peel. “You seem to have a good grasp on human-speak.”
It grabbed the grape without so much as a thank you. “Yes. Have composed poetry in both Dragonese and Humanese. Not for humans to hear, though.” Bragging cheered it up a little.
“You mentioned. I can’t hear very well, anyway.” She pulled up a stool and sat down. “Actually, I’ve been looking for a helper.”
“An assistant,” it said, apparently showing off its Humanese. “An attendant. An aid.”
She watched it bury its snout in the grape, juice dribbling down onto the apple it sat on. “Yes. A hearing aid. How would you feel about having a job?”
It smiled craftily. “Would feel positively, if job comes with chocolate chips.”
“It could,” she said, grinning. She had some friends who employed bird-sized dragons as messengers, but this was the first time she’d heard of one negotiating its salary for itself. “It certainly could. What’s your name?”
“Peep,” said Peep. “It is self-explanatory.”
“Don’t worry, I got it.”
Peep expressed its doubt that humans ever got anything, but she thought the tiny, prickly creature might be warming up to her.
my name is jake. I can't tell you my real name, because I'm the leader of a special group of kids... we're called the Animorphs. Because we morph into animals and fight aliens.
'god, please don't do this,' i begged on my knees. Visser Three had all of my loved ones hanging from his claws in his multi-armed alien morph and was slowly squeezing the life out of them. 'you must either choose them, jake, or the rest of your planet.' i couldn't take it. i started to morph into a cockroach.
as i felt my own brain slither down my throat and into my torso to reform into my digestive system, my bones also began to dissolve into dust inside my skin. my eyes shrunk back into my skull and i could see into eternity- i could see my own mind, taken over by the yeerk. i had already taken my last breath as a free creature, now i saw my last vision as a being of this dimension. suddenly, i was gone. and my parents would never even know i had died. was saving the world worth this? i wondered, if anyone on this planet could be forced to prioritize one life over another, what choice would they make? how can any decision be right, or wrong? i closed my mind off, and fell into eternal sleep, my last echoes of thought being of how humanity continued to live on, but not truly alive.
'hey, bro, wanna go to mc d's and grab some fries?' marco asked, riding by on his skateboard. 'yeah, that'd be totally radical!' i answered, whipping out my own razor scooter. as i pulled a nasty kickflip, i felt eyes watching me. turning around, i saw my own dog, and thought of the horrible truth only i knew. we went to the mall to get big macs. it was a good day to not be dead.
The moment where Griffin’s skeleton launches itself from his body and he just sort of slithers down behind the table and rolls around on the stage for a bit due to the sheer force of what a butt he was being.
🔸I don’t follow the Wheel of the Year.
🔹I don’t celebrate every single phase of the moon.
🔸I don’t clean my crystals on a regular basis.
🔹I actually own a Silver RavenWolf title from when I was 17.
🔸I haven’t used any form of divination in about 2 months despite buying a new tarot deck.
🔹 I don’t always get to do something witchy everyday.
🔸I haven’t changed my altar around in a month.
🔹I don’t have correspondences memorized.
Am I still a witch?
Remember this the next time someone attempts to make you feel guilty for not always maintaining a “witchy” lifestyle or aesthetic. You do not need to please anyone but yourself. It’s your path. Let it grow. Life will get in the way, sometimes. It’s okay. You’re still awesome 👍
I have noticed that you have learned absolutely nothing from the many fans being disappointed and angry at you before for doing the exact same thing. So let me explain to your cultural appropriating ass why this highly offensive and not ok. Hijabs are not accessories for the “aesthetic” look. It is not for fashion. It is worn by Muslim women because of their religion. Real Muslim women deal with discrimination due to wearing a hijab everyday so don’t ever wear one and not think about the struggles of others. This is not the first time you have cultural appropriated but it better be the last.
Sincerely, a problematic feminist
Harry was walking back to the Gryffindor tower when he saw it, a corn snake, the thickest part of it was about as round as his thumb and it was only about a foot long. It was pale almost white, an albino, but the pale yellow-orange markings along it’s back had been charmed to a vibrant green.
Harry glanced around for the owner but the hallway was empty, there wasn’t even the sound of retreating footsteps.
He dropped into a crouch next to the snake doggedly slithering along the stones and hissed a quiet greeting, “Hello, little one, are you lost?”
The snake lifted its head, looking as startled as a snake can to be talked to by a human. The snake seemed to think a great while before she answered in a prim tone, “No. I am certain of my way but I am cold. I would warm myself with your heat.”
Harry held out his hand and the little snake slid into it, her small little body was chilled from the stone floor. He stood and leaned back against the wall, cupping the snake in both hands, “Where are you going?” he asked.
The snake flicked her tongue, “You would know my business without even asking my name or offering your own? Are all humans so rude?”
Harry blinked and then grinned, “No, just me probably,” he hissed apologetically, “May I ask what your name is?”
“You may,” the snake said bobbing her head slightly in something like a nod, “Among my own I was known as Little White. My human calls me something like Morning, it is not a name I recognize or could pronounce in the proper tongue.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Little White. I am Harry Potter but you may call me what you like,” Harry said.
Little White raised her head higher, turning her head this way and that to get a better look at him.
“Would you like any help?” Harry asked again now that the introductions were complete.
Little White flicked her tongue out furiously, “It appears I require no more help as it was you I was looking for, Hairy Pot-Maker.”
Harry winced, he really did not like the literal representation of his name in parsel tongue.
“I was headed to your nest,” Little White said, “I thought perhaps I could do something, as hopeless as it is to try and do anything with most of your kind. You are all intolerably stupid. I am pleased to know you can at least manage the true tongue.”
“Thank you?” Harry said, grinning in something between amusement and disbelief at this little snake’s cheek.
Little White regally dipped her head again, “You are most welcome, Hairy Pot-Maker.”
Harry winced again, “I would rather you didn’t call me that. Really, anything else would be better.”
“Then should I call you raven-locked or emerald eye or perhaps hearts-desire?” Little White asked archly.
“What?” Harry blinked in surprise.
Little White shifted in his palms to a spot with more warmth, “My human calls you those things, amongst others in the silence of his den. I do not understand ‘love’ and 'desire’. It makes little sense to me. A snake seeks the company of other snakes only to mate and then they separate. Yet you humans seem drawn to one another often.” she cocked her head slightly, “Perhaps it is your warmth, I can understand that. Human warmth is very desirable, a pair of humans might share warmth together.”
“…So you wanted to help your human?” Harry asked, feeling a little flushed that someone, a Slytherin someone, had a crush on him.
“Yes. He is heart-sick for wanting you yet he will not speak his desire. He believes you would be opposed, to the point of anger or even violence.” Little White said, watching him intently.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Harry hurriedly assure her.
“I believe this of you,” Little White said, thoroughly unimpressed with him, “Despite his wanting of you I find it unlikely that you are worthy. My human is very warm and provides fine mice for me. He calls me beautiful. I would not share his warmth.”
Harry’s brow furrowed, “but weren’t you coming to try and help him?”
“I have changed my mind,” Little White said. “Put me down.”
“I could take you back to him?” Harry offered, mostly out of politeness.
Little White turned her head away, “I would not have him look upon you, ever again.”
Harry felt a little dumbstruck. He was about to kneel and put the little snake when he heard running footsteps and turned to look. Malfoy was running down the hallway, his robes flapping around him, his swept back hair falling down around his face. He had his wand in his hand, doing what appeared to be a point me spell.
Malfoy zeroed in on Harry and his cupped hands immediately and stomped over as if he wasn’t a flustered, faintly flushed mess, “Did you find a snake, a white snake with green markings?”
Harry silently lowered his hands so Malfoy could better see.
“Morgana!” Malfoy cried in relief, he reached out to take her and then pulled back as if he didn’t want to touch Harry.
Before Harry would have interpreted that action in an entirely different way. He felt a little dizzy.
Malfoy held his hand out, “My snake, if you please, Potter.”
Little White was flicking her tongue furiously at Harry, “You do not look at my human like that! I have decided and will not share!”
Harry glanced down at her, feeling a smile on his lips. He looked back up, Malfoy was looking rather cute. He dropped his cupped hands onto Malfoy’s warm palm, letting Little White slip down and wrap around securely around Malfoy’s wrist. Harry curled one hand around Malfoy’s tracing his fingers over the back of Malfoy’s hand. He watched Malfoy’s face flush faintly, a shiver going through his hand, the rest of him seemed to be frozen in place.
Harry said, “I was was thinking-”
Little White lunged out, biting Harry’s thumb.
Harry jerked his hand back, mostly out of shock. The little snake couldn’t really hurt him.
She pulled back, her body still raised high in warning, “I said No!”
“Morgana! Why did you-! Don’t do that!” Malfoy hissed looking a little panicked and telling Harry, “She’s never done that before. You must have just startled her.”
“I’m sure,” Harry said glaring at her. He smiled at Malfoy, “As I was going to say, do you want to go out sometime?”
Malfoy flushed even pinker, “What?”
“On a date,” Harry said, tempted to reach out and touch Malfoy again but deciding against it, “I thought maybe we could share some warmth together.”
Malfoy searched his expression and then hesitantly nodded.
Little White muttered, “I’m going to shit in your shoes.”