Fantasy it's hard to dance with the devil on your back • (1x1)

[thinking]

which

witch?

the prologue

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"Premature death,
Daughters of the Night?
Will the shadow of their
sacrificial hearts show?

Chain their shackles close because
the Sun and the Moon will meet to
leave the world in the dark
for there to be no dawn,
no day: succumb this Twilight.

She will unsheathe her fang,
and quell her urges
to the tainted blood
of the Wolf."​

---

Friday, October 13th, 0:00AM​

"They are dangerous." Professor Palustris rose from his chair, clutching the table so tightly the loss of circulation made their hands stone-grey. There was waver in his voice and the confidence in his statement was unapparent and disarmed with self-doubt however he continued. "It is diabolical to allow them to continue here... To risk the lives of other students and for what? Some prophecy that she," Palustris took an sharp, inward breath, trapping air between nostrils, "created twenty bloody years ago." He directed his bombardment toward Professor Mink, the Divination teacher of Hogwarts, who sat coolly at the round table. Despite the dimly lit room, it was obvious all thirty sets of eyes where aimed towards the wisened witch who said not a word nor flinched under the insulting pressure. There was no silence left for Palustris to continue and the whole boardroom of magical staff whispered among themselves, some nodding and with others voicing their disagree. Even Headmaster Yin, who was particular for order and control, did not disrupt the uproar of voices. Above the noise Palustris rose above, "They are not even true witches... If it is ever true, and Tainn and Volkov are who Mink says them to be, then they are tainted with contagious disease... Hogwarts is not a place for beasts."

---

Later that night Palustris was found dead.
His bones had contorted into all angles as he must have writhed in pain from the Cruciatus Curse.
He had no wounds which only showed his death was magical.
Morning arose and Minnie Mink, a seventy-two year old Divination Professor who taught at the world famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was arrested by the Ministry's Justice Legion to Life in Azkaban before trail even commenced. ​

​

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[thinking]

scroll

scroll

❝

blame it on the big bad

tainn, elu

the wolf

Elu.

name

Elu Tainn.

nicknames

"El," "the Lycan", "Bitch,"

age

fifteen.

d.o.b.

thirteen, Oct.

ethnicity

Born to a Mexican and Native American witch and an African American and Native American wizard.

sexuality

bisexual.

ubu,

methyl ethel,

visage

height

5'2"

body

Her body is that of a mesomorph, carrying more muscle than actual fat.Her skin is usually free of blemishes, though hormonal matters will change. It is slightly shiny akin to when she is sweating. She does not use foundation on her skin, so its glow is natural.,

hair.

Elu has hair that is difficult to manage; it is tough, brittle and usually quite dry. It is ink black in colour so, in the light, it glistens dark walnut brown. It is usually styled down in a matted, rough mess which she prefers as tying it up hurts her head and produces a headache. Her hair is easy to brush otherwise, however Elu is usually out running, the wind causing it to conjoin into knots and creating it to be unmanageable.

eyes.

Elu’s eyes are a dark, olive green. In the natural light, they are usually mistaken for a hazel brownish colour. Her eyes are bordered with thin, spider leg-like eyelashes that are naturally curled. Above her eyes are eyebrows that are usually slightly unkempt, Elu does not really care much for cosmetics.

faceclaim

kiana lede

psyche

Elu Tainn is difficult and rather disorientated about her calling, becoming a lycanthrope was completely shocking. It came to her as a surprise, leading to isolation and turmoil and has pushed away many friends out of her own fear of losing control. The most distinguishing personality trait that Elu has is her red-hot fiery temper. It is unbeknownst to her, when she is going to blow or others either. She just snaps and when she does nobody wants to take the brunt of it. Before her first transformation, Elu had a confident aura about her and was quick to take judgment on others; she did not hold back on relentless remarks. Almost akin to a bully, perhaps it was the lack of authority in her life; the wistfulness of her mother and the cowardice of her father... Now, however, she has completely switched personalities; as if she has transformed into careful Dr Jekyll. Whilst some of the aspects of her previous traits are still there, Elu, like a caterpillar into a butterfly, has metamorphosed into this worried, anxious and rather confused young woman. The impact of being alone on her first transformation, and not knowing what happened during it (she was found later, naked and bruised by a substitute Professor later contacted the Ministry) may have triggered this alter-ego. So, despite her issues with frustration and absentmindedness, Elu is bound to spurts of teariness, perhaps due to the hormonal imbalances the wolf inside creates.

It is obvious that Elu cares for her family, yet the turbulent relationship with her father and lack of care from her mother, has caused a great deal of grief. She tries her best to take the authoritarian role in her household as the lack of understanding and love she receives from her mother cuts her down. She is a free spirit but would prefer to be curled up by the comfort of her own home or the Gryffindor dormitory.

positive

alert, free-thinking, imaginative, humourous, casual, confidential, confident and loyal,

negative

disorientated, confused, worried, anxious, absentminded, angry, dominating, attention-seeking and scary.

fears

fear of losing the ability to stay a normal witch. Fear of losing control and running out of Wolfsbane.

heritage and history.

Being the only daughter of an influential pairing of witch and wizard caused Elu's life to be constantly in danger. She has always been in the spotlight, many articles have been made about her when she was younger. At the age of nine, Elu's when staying at her father's house, she was abducted by a murderous werewolf serving under the villainous witch- Kiria Clementine's rule. Elu's father was brutally murdered by the unforgivable death curse and Clementine was imprisoned to Azkaban and the werewolf wizard was destroyed by authorities. Little is known the motive behind Clementine's attack, however jealousy is seemingly the reason to it. It was not public knowledge that Clementine was the same age as Mr Tainn so attended Hogwarts School with him, this is something Elu's mother has warned her daughter about many times...

Elu was found scraped, bruised and bitten by the werewolf and has ever since carried the lycanthrope virus.

---

Her body is large, staggering over the usual wolf. Her eyes keep their piercing hue of bush green. Elu's fur is copperish and red with patches of cream and white. Near her muzzle, the brown-red is darker, almost black. The main body of fur is thick, insulating and soft. Her paws are abnormally large, almost puppy-like and her teeth are also elongated.

The pain was ungodly. It first spread through her personality, contorting and disarming her friends and family with surprise. Her moods were erratic, Elu did not have a care in the world at one moment, ecstatic and wondrous, then all of a sudden, fell into deep wells of depression- typical yet unusual for a nine year old girl. Elu's mother, Ama grew concerned and disconcerted with this, unable to contact her father for help as he was dead. With a usually happy and welcoming girl suddenly distorted into the wrath of the first transformation, Ama could not comprehend living with her daughter anymore so at the first invitation to Hogwarts, (Elu was 11) she made her spend every holiday with her squib auntie, Yuna.

Ama, a woman of fame and wealth was so emotionally damaged from Mr Tainn's death, that she had to let her daughter go... Elu became too uncontrollable, in the early years and she had to be sent away to magic institutions every month before her transformation took place. Elu can only ever read about her mother in newspapers or watch her on television... Elu cannot help but keep a flame of hatred burning inside for her...

gallery

connections

The Vampire

there tells a prophecy of a wolf and a nightwalker... TBC

Azra

Azra is Elu's pet skunk who is very shy and nervous when meeting fellow students, but once Elu is calm, then she should be too.

TBC

TBC

TBC

TBC

extra

wand

Slightly yielding, 11”, phoenix feather core, apple wood.

Hogwarts House

Gryfinndor! Which is surprising, considering both mother and father were housed in Ravenclaw.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[demonology]

scroll

scroll

❝

For the love of Peter, will you leave me the fuck alone? I'm not going to eat you, but if you bother me long enough, I might!

val

the vampire

Val.

full name

Valentine Jean Volkov

nicknames

Val, Tiny

age

fifteen

d.o.b.

June 13th

ethnicity

Born in St. Petersburg, Russia to a German-American and a Russian.

sexuality

sapphic

go home.

michael cera palin

01.

visage

height

5'8''

body

Slim, tiny (hence the nickname), and athletic. The one compliment her mother has ever given her about her looks: The perfect dancer's body.

hair.

Long tendrils of honey wheat. Usually in some state of disheveled or unkempt, unless she is in practice or on stage.

eyes.

A brown the Grandmother deems is indicative 'the Volkov eyes'

faceclaim

alana champion

body modifications

Her canines are permanently sharpened. There is a huge scar stemming from her shoulder to her hip, though this is unnoticeable unless she's wearing a tank top. A ring of small scars sit below her right elbow, in the shape of teeth marks. Unseen, smaller scars line the bottoms of her feet and hips.

02.

psyche

Valentine has the unfortunate curse of being both fitting of her namesake, and quite the opposite. She is passionate, charming, a bit ditzy at times, but she is equally capable of being cruel, cutthroat, perhaps a bit disarming and two-faced at times. Growing up under the influence of cattiness and institutionalized bitchiness, Val is unable to relinquish herself from these conflicting sides of the spectrum that makes up her personality. It is rare to find Valentine acting without some sort of pretense, usually with some form of colorful language. Loyalty with her comes from time, bloodshed, and an instinctual test of trust until finally she deems you as an asset. Yet, even as she runs this gambit, resulting in many foes and lost loves, she cannot help but wish she could change. Perhaps the severity of her upbringing can be escaped after all, though only time can tell what will be made of such an ambitious queen.

likes

Peonies, going on a picnic in the sun, strawberry cakes with pink frosting, the smell of lavender, lighting incense, frankly smoking a bowl, dancing in the woods (which you would be surprised to learn how often they drive upstate just to do this), people who believe in love fated by the stars and the divine goddesses, a big sleep, and giving people tarot readings. Oh, and of course, dancing. But isn't that obvious?

dislikes

Bitches, jerkoffs, numbskulls, people who otherwise wish her demise, idiotic "real adults" (in the words of her mother) who treat her as though she is some how less intelligent, heartbreak, tabloids, gossip about her (even if its true), consequences for her actions, the smell of Cabernet, existential anxiety, the threat of her untimely demise at any moment, and lastly, the grandeur notion that all she exists for others and not herself

fears

her mother, devolving into a fiery ball in the prescence of the sun, and injury. Of multiple varieties.

fears

Besides talking with her psychiatrist Dr. Tuttle, tarot reading, watercolor painting, dancing, sleeping, prank calling strangers and pretending to call into work, pissing off her mother, writing angry letters to her father that she never sends (including the finest of pieces: 'Macaroni Necklace' and 'Random Scribbles,' something that fuck is surely missing in his barren fucking lifestyle!), staring at her ceiling while hopped up on an overprescribed dose of her meds, and plotting how to keep her grasp on the one thing she has ever been sure of (dance) while also comprehending the whole vampire thing.

skills

Self-medicating, winning over others, hurting others, dancing (of fucking course), and curbing her appetite.

quirks

Speaks very pointedly with a piping accent of undeterminable Euorpeaness and slight tinge of Northern Asia, picking at hangnails, pacing back-and-forth when thinking deeply, normally quiet unless they're high, and tends to stare off into space when feeling threatened.

secrets

The abuse she's suffered from her mom, the fact that her mother and father aren't actually separated against their will (or that her father owns a nightclub and she has only met him twice), doesn't know a lick of German.

03.

history

𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

Valentine Volkov is a prima ballerina in the making, renowned for her recent addition of blood-sucking capabilities and declining mental health at only the age of fifteen. Her mother is a Russian native relocated to Los Angeles, where she openly neglects her daughter and manages the family business: talent management. As a result, she is a hater of Americana, though Valentine happily indulges in fantasies of her father, who lives in Miami and runs a nightclub. Armed with her satin slippers, Valentine intends to charm the hearts of all (and probably destroy a few) and hopelessly avoid the serpent tongue of her mother. Oh, and perhaps avoid eating a poor unsuspecting wizard/witch?

━━━━━━━━━━˖˚ ˙˖ ◉ ˖˙ ˚˖━━━━━━━━━━​

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒:

TW: mentions of blood and abuse!​

⠀⠀ In order to understand Valentine Volkov, audiences have to travel through the eclipses of time into the past, where Catherine Volkov and Fynn Weber (currently known as Finn Weaver) met on the streets of Berlin, both in search of what the other could provide. They met on a whirlwind, wrapped up in the silk of their desire for one another. True love is what their families called it. How coincidental that the pair would reconnect after years of separation, the memories of their youth flooding back, in the very city their families came from! The Volkovs and Webers are from old money, though the Volkovs are older. Seniority led to Val getting the surname. However, before Valentine was even a potential fetus, the current matriarchs were planning the meeting of her parents, friends in babyhood who were from two powerful lines and inheritors of hefty trust funds. Fynn needed some direction, and Catherine needed something other than bloodsport to occupy her time. Thus, Catherine was encouraged to leave Moscow to go to university in Berlin, since the wall recently came down, and family there had missed getting to see her grow up. Fynn went for similar reasons, though less for academic purposes and more so for a pilgrimage that his father promised would result in proper stipend for any luxuries he wanted to indulge in the coming two years. A full twelve months in Berlin was worth it. Lucky for him (or perhaps unlucky, seeing how the story works out), the trip proved to be more than worth it, as it brought him Catherine and money for his follies

⠀⠀ As you're already imagining, this went up in flames well before Val reached six. Catherine was not a woman to be confined, to give the Grandmother the quiet housewife she felt was respectable. Cath wanted glory, and most of all, she wanted to show the family that the Volkov women were capable (and always had been) of far more than working the tangled strings of the social circle. She could do that and become a millionaire by the time she was thirty. The ambition proved to be too taxing on Fynn, but truthfully, he simply didn't want to be a father. More honestly, he didn't want to be married to a woman. Most of all, he didn't want to be stuck in Europe with a wife who wanted to bring the world to her finger tips. Better to bring her to America, he had thought. At least there, she will be more than entertained. Though, it is doubtful he was even this crafty. They left Berlin a year into Valentine's life, the love that inspired her namesake dwindling fast. For a time, the opportunities and culture afforded to Catherine satiated her and make her hunger for the love the pair shared. She settled quickly into using her education to pursue movie producing, and not before long, her family's entertainment connects and surplus funds brought her that first million and first hit film she thirsted for. In her almost godly endeavors, she lost the taste for her husband, and he quietly pulled away. They are still married today, but Finn spends his time in Miami, tending his popular club, and Cath remains in Burbank.

⠀⠀ At six, Fynn was almost a figment of Val's imagination. Truthfully, she thought he was dead for at least a year after he disappeared in the middle of the night. She didn't dare ask her mother of her father, and as you'll see, this is indicative of quite much more beyond the surface. When her husband vanished, Catherine took the abandonment with a grunt and a whiskey sour before signing up Valentine for dance lessons. What the Volkov family needed was another star, as the Grandmother had been. Greta Volkov, in her youth, was an infamous beauty and a pop singer that even reached American fame before the Cold War. Instead of giving up her career for a sniveling husband, Valentine would reach greatness and continue to seek greater heights. She would bring the Volkovs a grander glory, something Catherine couldn't achieve. Let Mommy handle the finances, you just win the gold, was a common phrase spoken in the home studio when the eight hour practices led to Val's complaints.

⠀⠀ Just like the strange misunderstanding of her father's abandonment of her, ballet is something Valentine thought she was born doing. En pointe by the time she was ten, her ankles still scream at her everyday for this immature choice, as though she had any volition over the matter. Ballet was never not an option, and it remains so today. Before discovering her magic, Valentine spent the school years in Russia with the Grandmother, who had far more time to tend to such a tenderly aged child. Then, Hogwarts became the first reprieve from her mother's constant prescence. It was the first time she didn't practice in every free moment, instead forging friendships unfounded in her dance classes back home. Summers were spent by Catherine's side. Lie about it as much as she liked, but the leaving of her husband and the subsequent scourge at the hands of the Grandmother had poisoned her. She was determined, like a stubborn bull at the red cape. She never realized Valentine was standing behind the bloody fabric, nor does she see the stains and scars even now. Summers with her mother were pain, and she spent most of her time wishing to return back to the thing her mother made her be, pre-magic. Ballet, while a curse, could also be a blessing and an escape. There was no fear of violence when she attended Hogwarts, and learning something besides pirouettes or Swan Lake made ballet fun again. It was a skill, just like magic was, and Valentine preferred that to the all-consuming alternative. Thankfully, Catherine kept the violence at a minimum, at least in Val's head. It was hard to harm the daughter you wanted to be famous for her face. Still, Valentine is familiar with the look of her face with a black eye or a scratch or two. She knows the way her feet ache after marks unseen. Most people couldn't see the trembling sinews of muscle on Catherine, and her calm composure never inclined anyone to think her daughter was anything less than the happiest child on Earth.

⠀⠀ Nothing major changed for the first three or so years of Hogwarts. This changed, however, last school year. It was a random incident, claimed by many to be a mistake. Even now, Valentine doesn't have it within her to capture any anger towards the kid. A freak accident caused by improper meal scheduling, resulting in the first-year starving. He was supposed to receive a live deer from the groundskeeper, standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He'd missed dinner and had come early for breakfast, hoping to avoid any other students. Valentine was going for an early morning walk, always one for sunrises. The wind blew just right, catching the nostrils of Warrington Tendril, who couldn't help himself.

⠀⠀ Her body was found next to a sobbing Warrington, who clutched his knees and rocked back and forth. Val remembers this vision, and she remembered thinking how innocent he looked. She had whispered to the kid, "It's okay," as the groundskeeper and Professor Mink carried her to the nurse. Her neck was covered in blood, and Val cried for the first time at the sight. "I'm sorry," she'd repeated over and over again, hoping someone would bring her mom so she could explain. Her confusion stunned a few involved in the incident, choosing decidedly to ignore the scars on her feet and hips in favor of the gashes all over body and the teeth marks on her arm, near her elbow. The nurse patched up Valentine, but the damage had been done. Surviving a vampire attack, even an unintentional one, passed the condition onward. A new curse to add.

⠀⠀ The summer was spent adjusting to her newfound abilities, including her inability to go out into the sunlight without getting massive burns. Sunblock and umbrellas became her new best friends, and she avoided her summers in America by returning to her Grandmother, who welcomed her with open arms. It was easier without the constant threats of what her mother's temper could do to her newfound abilities. Her new form. She tried not to think about it. The affects were obvious, however, as she started to skip the classes she was sentences to take in St. Petersburg, along with avoiding her Grandmother and the calls from her mother. It became increasingly obvious to Cath that the psychiatrist she paid to take care of her daughter was not helping with this new issue. Therefore, she switched things around and found Valentine a new professional, supposing that would be the solution to whatever attitude adjustment her daughter needed. Unfortunately, this was quite the opposite as it gave a newly-turned Valentine the opportunity to manipulate her clueless psychiatrist into prescribing a host of medications, all of which the young girl believes will at least make her less likely to spazz out. Better yet, maybe they'll let her forget the whole dilemma entirely. It appeared that after the years of suffering due to her forced-upon ambition (which was growing even more confusing as she begins to realize how much she does not care to be a professional ballerina), Val was burnt out. The Incident had just been the last straw.

04.

gallery

05.

connections

the wolf.

a wolf and a nightwalker... and a prophecy... TBC

vampirism

A vampire comes with its own sets of benefits and drawbacks. As a blood-sucker, Val has the ability to turn into a bat for brief periods of time, though only at night. Additionally, when she is starving (i.e. hasn't eaten anything containing fresh blood and nutrients in over 12 hours) or feels threatened, she is more likely to grow disgusting fangs, turn into a gray-skinned semi-human with pointed nails (think prettier Nosferatu), and attempt to attack/eat something moving and living. Sun does not destroy her, however, in this fanged-form, she can die in sunlight. Still, the sun has its own affect, resulting in her wearing a plethora of sun block, opting for long sleeves, or carrying around a black umbrella to shield her. Beyond this, Val is susceptible to garlic and wooden weapons. She is not immortal, though she will live longer than any normal human. Sleep and human-food are not necessary, though they seem to make her less hangry in between feedings. While in her fanged-out form, she has superhuman athleticism, along with more immunity to attacks than a normal human. Lastly, she has a golden tongue, resulting in many people being easily charmed by her, in and outside of form.

Cow

Valentine's tuxedo cat. She loves him dearly and will bring him to classes on days where she feels like she can't get out of bed.

The Professor

More Info To Be Added. Her newfound mentor.

06.

miscellaneous

wand.

9’’ yew wood with dragon heartstring core.

house.

Slytherin, a fact her mother is strangely proud of though only after Val explained it.

playlist.

here

pinterest.

here

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[thinking]

professor sen hexavia

-head of slytherin

-david bowie

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[demonology]

headmistress yin

-overseer of hogwarts

-sandra oh

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[thinking]

the wolf

elu tainn

“What strange claws are these, scratching at my skin?
part one-
the night of the staff meeting.
thursday october 12th, 18:00hrs.​

It was obvious that last month's transformation had shattered her sense of hope. The bleary eyed witch stared, stone still, at a reflection that did not want to respond. Her usual glowing skin was sallow and pitted slightly, it was becoming too much on her physical health too... The life-long incurable disease had ripped through her since she was nine and still, it was impossible to comprehend normality even in times of human appearance. Lack of self care caused curls in her hair to become dreary and roped together. The fiercest feature of her face, Elu’s eyes, had still kept their green intenseness however without the spark. Nights, like this evening, frightened her.

She lent so close to the mirror her nose touched the cool glass and left a print. A slight smile plastered her face as she jeered on her own reflection
“Until next time, bitch.” she pouted her cracked lips before dressing into some casual attire, ready for dining time. The sound of Azra snuffling about underneath the door frame, interrupted her selfloving and took Elu back to reality. His long claws scraped against the wood as if he could sense Elu’s frame of mind was distorted. However, he was just hungry and begging for attention and skunks, of which are usually nocturnal, it was for breakfast . Unfortunately, the Headmaster Yin made it extremely apparent that pets are not to accompany students at the dinner table despite their being owls swooping around at breakfast; quite contradictory to anyone with sense.
*

18:30hrs​

The food was tantalising Elu, as it sat on her plate, steaming warm air into her face. It was a penultimate treat to a good week's work; rare beef-steak, buttered mash potato and peas served with a side of bread. Very delicious albeit sickening. Blood and oil pooled on her white dish and using her fork, she flipped the steak over with distaste. Beads of sweat accumulated from the top of Elu’s forehead, her hair lay flat, greasy and sticky against her back. The girl’s breath wobbled and she closed her eyes, biting her tongue so hard she could feel her own blood dance on her taste-buds. However, it was not her own blood, it was the blood of an imposter somehow found their way into her jaws. She bit down harder, swallowing the claret of the victim whose screams gargled grotesquely as they choked on their own plasma. Elu tilted her head back, to call to the stars and the moon , swallowing air to release a god-forsaken howl of triumph.
“What the fuck?” a boy, a fellow Gryffindor nicknamed Winnie, sat across from her with his nose crinkled up with disgust as red drool dribbled from Elu’s mouth and onto her plate and knitted outfit. Elu swore loudly, causing a group of students to stop talking and drop their spoons. Abruptly leaving her chair turned heads of some teachers too but Elu was swift enough to make it look like a nose bleed. Running at the same time as attempting to catch the spittle that dripped down from her chin with her hands was slippery and disgusting..

Exiting the Great Hall was difficult, chairs and tables were pulled so tightly together that it was almost like a maze. Light on her foot, however, Elu made it out and ran as rapidly as she could to the direction of her dormitory, the metallic liquid becoming more concentrated in her mouth than ever.

Hogwarts castle was a labyrinth of rooms, corridors and secret passageways, with some most likely not discovered. Elu was not equipped with any sense of direction in her panic and had reached a dead end: just as she was about to turn back round she heard a pair of loud, heeled footsteps tapping on the cobbled floor. Elu’s eyes widened and the witch, who was tremendously frightened, whipped herself into the shadows and out of sight.

---

Professor Sen Hexavia was a charming, well-mannered and cool man, however it was obvious that right now he was in a hurry. Valentine Volkov had promised that she would meet him here at 6:45pm sharp, however the professor found himself caught up with the ridiculousness of other students. He had made it late and obscuring a 10 litre jerrican of muggle-blood under his robe was impossible without magic. Hexavia shook his head, took out his wand and whispered a charm in his smooth, southern English accent;
“Lumos,” the harsh white light that emitted from his wand-tip resembled the full moon and it made Elu feel sick. Elu did not even notice how dark it was without the light and she sunk further back into the wall.

coded by reveriee.

 

[demonology]

scroll

the vampire

val.

mood

slightly perturbed, starving

outfit

sweater | dress | shoes

location

location here

interactions

professor sen and elu

aesthetic

1 | 2 | 3

It felt like being hugged for the first time, that first recollection of a warm embrace from someone who loved the non-human, childish version of oneself. Cow, the cat, nuzzled against her, jutting Valentine outward from her dream. She curled around her cat, scratching at the top of his head only to suddenly feel her teeth jut forward towards her lips. Fangs popped out, subtly but nagging, and Val stepped away from Cow, who meowed at her in confusion. Covering her mouth, she walked backwards, knocking over something on top of her roommate's trunk. She sat down, breathing in long and deep. Her teeth began to slid in to a shorter, stouter, and less pointier version, in time with her stomach's growling.

Instead of covering her mouth, Val's hands delved into the folds of her stomach, feeling the teeth revert back to weapons. Silently, she scrunched herself up and tried to calm herself from her stomach cramping in on itself. Through blurred eyelashes, she saw the hands of the Grandfather clock. The owl clicked back and forth, and Valentine caught the time.

"Crap," she mumbled, noting she was supposed to have seen the Professor ten minutes ago.

Still crumpled over, she eyed the pills sitting on her nightstand. She'd taken them, as prescribed for once, as a way to take a relax, take a much-needed nap after classes. For a moment, she considered taking one, in hopes it would magically absolve her of the clench in her stomach. Instead, Val shut her eyes, breathing hard and long once more, willing her body to abide. For a handful of seconds, it let up, and she righted herself and put on a less toothy smile. Grabbing the dainty coffee cup from next to the pills, she began her escapade outside of her bed.

Resting her elbows new her belly as some form of pressure-keeping, she ran out the door, and headed out of the Slytherin common rooms. It was beginning to dawn on her and her jittery hands how important it was to be on time for meals. If it wasn't already important enough to begin with, given how she ended up in this position to begin with.

It appeared that no one, not even a Professor Hexaria caught up by a pile of students, could match Valentine's lateness. It was a cultured skill, brought together by experience and a general distaste for being on time. However, it appeared that Sen was giving Val a run for her money, and thus, she arrived just on time comparably. The light from the wand blinded her, and she shot up her hands in shielding.

"Calm your tits," she called out, shocked by the light, though happy to see her dinner safe and sound.

As she walked towards the Professor, gave him a grateful smile, and took the jerrican from him. Aware of the girl near her, she refrained from trying to drink any of it and risk spilling blood on herself (which was a terrifyingly consistent occurrence). She eyed the girl, suddenly extra conscious of her condition, ultimately opting for safety over propriety. Sighing, Val placed the cup on the floor, opened the top of the jug, and poured herself a serving. Placing the top back on, she took a sip from the ceramic mug as she slipped her legs in front of her dinner.

"Sorry I'm late," she gasped out, having downed the entirety of the mug's contents in a matter of seconds.

For the time being, Valentine opted to ignore eye contact with Gryffindor in front of her, instead giving Professor Hexaria her slightly startled expression. "Though it appears I might have come too soon." Her tone turned lighter, more so laughing off the awkwardness than attempting to further perpetuate it.

It wasn't that Val was afraid of people seeing her feed, but rather it felt immoral and improper to subject anyone to it. It was, not to mention, terribly revealing and disgusting, a facet to her forced-upon lifestyle she preferred not to divulge in. It was still disturbing to allow the Head of Slytherin see her drink the blood he collected. Instead of letting this fact turn her into a sniveling mess, she shot the other girl an unnerving, narrowed look. "Though I was late." The words were far more threatening than necessary, but subtle enough to fall almost flat.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[thinking]

scroll

the mentor

Sen;

mood

somewhat smug.

outfit

these robes

location

A secret corridor

interactions

Valentine, the vampire

tags

demonology

Sen, himself was a refreshing and pleasant outlook as a Slytherin Head of House; he was rather flamboyant and somewhat silly. Sen loved to joke with students and be as relatable as he could, still he balanced and matched sternness and seriousness when needed which made him also terrifying. The potions master (who is also sometimes a sub-teacher to transfiguration classes) takes pride in his knowledge; Sen knows he is intelligent but likes to fool people into believing he isn’t; perhaps he is manipulative after all?

The Professor clasped his hands together after slipping his now lowly lit wand back into his robe, standing in silence without replying to Valentine’s somewhat cocky remark, he knew the lumos charm was uncomfortable for vampires so knew it would get her attention too. It frightened him that she appeared so quickly, without the sound of footsteps. Sen, still and composed, was also rather sickened albeit marvelled for the way his student grappled with the jerrican, how easily Valentine upturned it and how the warmed blood glugged into her body as soon as it touched her lips. Part of him also was somewhat forlorn to the fact that this is how she will be the rest of her life.

The Slytherin Head of House knew he had sensed someone else in the darkness, however thought nothing of it, it was not until Valentine’s eyes subtly stopped focusing on him and instead behind. Sen whipped himself around, spotted Elu, poised and then clapped.
“Oh, yes, brilliant. This is perfect…” Sen exhilaratingly announced, with a wide smile plastered face, “Two of the most renowned enemies in the whole of supernatural history, together in one room… Well, corridor, but who cares? What a rare moment to relish in.” Another thing about Hexavia is that he had little filter when excited.

Elu did not know what the substance was in the shadows, it was dark and scarlet in colour, the metallic scent was too strong and obvious… No, it couldn’t be what she thought but it was... The young witch retched once, heaving up the remainder of her own blood spit onto the cobbled floor which ultimately allowed Professor Hexavia to gracefully stride over and pat her on the back. “There, there, dearest. This was meant to be…” The professor spoke softly, winking at Valentine, his intensely orange hair folding slightly over his face. Elu had absolutely no idea what the fuck Prof. Hexavia was on about. She was absolutely terrified and wanted to go back to the dormitory and hug Azra. “Mink would be so happy… Girls, stay right here, I will get her… To see if she can,” Sen paused, now standing tall and twisting his fingers together, “help erase everything I just said so we can all continue as normal.” He knew there was a spell to discombobulate the memories of people and just wanted to leave the girls alone.

Tears had begun to stream down Elu’s face, the girl had her eyes locked on Valentine’s who was just a Slytherin girl from her classes from before.
“What was that?” Elu demanded, wiping the remaining off her face with her sleeve. “Why was Professor Hexavia with you and why in God’s name did he just– just– swear to god that was a potion and not fuckin’ blood.” Elu spat harshly, trembling, she had her arm placed inside her pocket just in case she needed to defend herself with magic.

Fate was a funny thing, the two extraordinary magical girls drawn together by perhaps, conceived, by accident?

---

Professor Mink’s visions had grown more tumultuous as Elu and Valentine have been coming to a ripe age where their abilities were getting much more inconcealable. Old Mink was growing frailer and a staff meeting would be terrible on her health… With Professor Philip Palustris’ onslaught of undeniable disbelief in her prophecy, she may not live much longer than another day. Currently Mink was preparing herself for Headmistress Yin’s gathering, muttering to herself while sorting out incense and other products of Divination. All was calm until an almighty gust of air blew out her candles and Sen was standing there at the door his wand drew and eyes extremely maniacal.
“Minnie, it is time.” With such seriousness in his tone, did Prof. Hexavia mean business.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[demonology]

scroll

the vampire

val.

mood

awkward but trying to pretend she isn't, starving

outfit

sweater | dress | shoes

location

secret corridor

interactions

professor sen and elu

aesthetic

1 | 2 | 3

With the Professor's wink, Val used the back of her heel to lightly kick the jerrican further into the darkness. "Absolutely," she added, though she was clueless as to what Hex was going on about. Though, this was rarely not the case, seeing as he often made even less sense than Val.

Then, her waiter and educator left, off to find Professor Mink and speaking of memories. Blood poured into her ears, reaching her brain, drowning out much of what he spoke of, but she figured it wasn't anything she had any particular say in when he disappeared without another word.

Another voice squeaked from the darkness, and Valentine revealed her own wand from the recesses of her knit sweater. "Lumos," she muttered, supplying the light that Hexaria had taken.

Valentine eyed the other girl, and the scale of her face became unbalanced with one brow of the other. Her voice, muddled with iron-infused music, made a high pitched 'hmmpf' noise. "I beg your pardon?" A small smirk tugged at her lips, taking after her guiding professor. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Her heart spread rumors to her body, whispering here and there of panic and subterfuge. Someone knows! Val fingered her own wand, which was lightly illuminating in the absence of Hexaria. Still, her face remained bright and fitted with a cheery, toothless smile. If there was anything Val was good at besides ballet, it was the art of bullshitting.

"Professor Hexaria was giving me a potion," she lied. "It's quite thick and disgusting. Apologies if it scared you." The former sentence was not a lie, which gave Val the confidence to step forward a singular foot, sure that maybe that would convince the other girl.

Ignoring the stomach-nagging of warm plastic and cooling blood at the back of her calves, Val studied the face of the girl across from her. The face was familiar enough, indicative that they were in the same year. Or, perhaps even more accurate, that she was spoken about and pointed out quite often. Enough for Valentine to remember, despite her brain being addled by the bloodlust and Ambien. "You're the werewolf chick, aren't you?" Her speech was slanted in an Eastern European accent, making her w's turn to v's, along with other conflicted consonants. Of course, the blood coating her teeth and the desire to make this fact inconspicuous slurred the lines between Russian and English even further.

Even still, she relished in the discovery of the other girl's identity. It appeared that they were, however mildly, bound by a sense of supernatural. It didn't save her from reproach, but perhaps it would give her a one-up in the convincing of non-truths.

♡coded by uxie♡