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seraphwires · 8 months

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・BOYREViVED﹕✦ ⋯ when one ’ s gender feels like a dead boy that was revived , or as though their boyhood was once cold & dead , but has been revived by other xenogenders or any other means !

・GiRLREViVED﹕✦ ⋯ when one ’ s gender feels like a dead girl that was revived , or as though their girlhood was once cold & dead , but has been revived by other xenogenders or any other means !

╰╮ ✦ coined by The Eternal Maiden , Alouette ｡

requested by no one !

⋯ these are subgenders under @clubpenguincoins ’ genderrevived !

#Ⅰ　—　　coining　♱#mogai #mogai gender #mogai coining #xeno #xenogender #xenogender coining #flag coining #gender #gender coining #genderrevived #boygender #girlgender

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yourdarlingness · 4 months

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Somvisphere　(SOM-VEE-SFEER)

　·　requested by @puresel

a gender related to being a sleepy god in outerspace.

　·　Read my DNFI before following this blog!

Etymology

The "Som" comes from "Somnus" - from a Latin word, meaning "sleep."

The "Vi" comes from "Divine" - meaning of, from, or like God or a god.

Sphere - from the 7 layers of the atmosphere, specifically the Exosphere.

　special thanks to @/st4ratlz for the hands idea !

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princeblack · 1 month

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regulus black has been dead for one hundred and twenty-one years and the only voice he knows now is hers. it’s warm, wrapping around his soul and making him feel less alone; less of a memory and more of a person again. he’s still there, lingering, even a century after his death, having his life ripped away from him because of consumption.

what she didn’t know is he wasn’t your average dead man in any dead grave. or maybe she did know that, somewhere deep down. why else would he become her favorite? he felt her favoritism every time she leaned against his tombstone, talking about her days as if he were her friend and not the ghost of someone she would never know. his name is etched on the tombstone, but nothing more remains aside from the bust his mother had sculpted to commemorate her lost son. she had come to his grave to weep at it until consumption took her life as well, dwindling the numbers in the black family to almost nothing.

regulus had a life once, born as the son of a wealthy noble and raised strictly by way of his mother, given better education than most and learning complex science and math others didn’t have access to at a young age. he was familiar with the arts as well, writing and playing piano better than anyone in their town. he even proved to be adept at what was usually saved for the lower class, like caring for animals and livestock. not that his mother was a fan of him being friendly with the local farmers, saying it was beneath his father’s family and they had a reputation to uphold. besides that, there was danger to associating with the common folk because of what they were.

orion black was a successful businessman who amassed wealth through investments and commercial ventures, known even outside of their hometown for his fortune and contributions to various enterprises. orion wanted regulus to manage his estate and investments when he was old enough, although his mother was more worried about teaching him her own family’s ways, including inducting him into the family coven.

many still believed in witches, especially in such a rural area, and regulus’s family wasn’t safe from the persecution they’d face if anyone found out. it was a cult in a sense, regulus being brought up in the ways of the religion; worshiping and sacrificing to the the Horned One in order for their family to keep their powers. the old god was displeased when andromeda left the coven, withholding some of their powers for a time.

unluckily for regulus, this was when he fell ill, soon to meet an untimely fate. stricken with grief, walburga had done what magic she could, not enough to heal him but at least enough to resurrect him if all magical requirements were met.

she harnessed the power of a comet overhead, using its magic to reverse his death once it were to pass over again.

at least, this is how it was explained to regulus just before he died. he waited over a century after, sure that the spell had failed (and even if it didn’t, his loved ones were surely dead anyway).

that is, until he meets her.

she cares for his grave, scrubbing it clean and leaving flowers for him every week. she even gazes at his statue, talking to him as if he could talk back. regulus isn’t man anymore; only spirit, but even so he can see how beautiful she is and he knows she’s the most perfect human being to ever walk the earth. who else would care for someone they don’t know and keep his memory alive more than his family ever did?

one night she gifts him her aunt’s necklace, leaving it on his bust as an offering. he remembers her sweet words, explaining why she wanted him to have it and even murmuring that she wishes she could be with him. it’s then that he’s sure she can feel it, too– his spirit, and the way the two of them are drawn together, even with death and life separating them still.

his soul longs for her, wondering if the comet will pass by sometime before her life is over.

luckily, the night finally comes, and he can feel his awareness shift, being sucked below. once he was apart of the cemetery; apart of the breeze, just another spirit among many. but now he can feel his awareness being siphoned down, pulled into blackness, and then he’s there.

everything is dark, but he can feel his body. he’s almost not sure if this is real, but the weight of the ground is pressing down on him and it’s only because of magic that animates his body that he has the strength to claw his way from the dirt without suffocating. it takes some difficulty, struggling to reach the surface, but he eventually pushes through the ground, emerging from the soil and dragging himself out.

he can breathe, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest, almost as if he doesn’t have to because he’s dead. dirt falls off of him as he stands on unsteady legs, almost overwhelmed by his surroundings in the overgrown graveyard. the breeze is something he hasn’t felt on his face in over a century, along with the way air rests in his lungs. the moon is shining down on him, round and full, illuminating his tombstone and the bust his mother had made of him just above it.

he sees her necklace there, glinting in the dark, and shaky fingers reach out to take it, pulling it off for him to hold. it’s significantly nicer than anything on him, his old vest covered in chunks of soil and torn and faded. even the sleeves of his shirt are ripped, even though they were once elegant and of the highest quality white fabric.

he can feel salem through the necklace, as if a pulse of her soul is within it, her beating heart in his hand as he struggles out of the graveyard. her home isn’t far, through the forest and on the edge of a rural neighborhood. he knows because he can sense her, almost as if they’re connected. his mother always said he was the most psychic of the witches in their coven, but now it feels even more true, because his mind leads him directly to the woman he loves.

he crosses her yard, reaching the front door. he looks like a phantom on her porch, his skin even paler than it was when he was alive, smeared in dirt and grime. his black hair is caked with it too, to the point he’s almost unrecognizable. whatever state he was resurrected to, he knows he isn’t fully human. everything feels muffled and his body is cold; not like he remembered having flesh to be.

he’s sure he would be burned at the stake if anyone were to see him, a warning his family had given him time and time again about their magic. but he opens salem’s door anyway, using supernatural strength to break the lock and open the front door. he can sense her in the living space, just a few feet away, but he isn’t prepared to meet her beautiful blue eyes when he does. if regulus had breath it would’ve been taken from him, his cold fingers tightening on the necklace as he holds it out. / @ghstdoll

#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#Ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. salem ) .

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may8chan · 11 months

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落合竜二写真集Ⅰ

#落合竜二写真集Ⅰ

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wisepolitician · 19 days

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⠀⸻⠀⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄⠀⠀𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃⠀⠀⠀⸻

twenty-six year old student, who's oblivious to the fact that she's the reincarnation of the greek goddess athena and thus is living a normal life. she aspires to step into her mother's footsteps and become a politician herself, which is the reason for her move to Oxford to study politics, history and philosophy there. sage does an internship at the british ministry of defense and hopes to get offered a permanent positon and hence does everything she can to prove herself worthy of working there. as one of the few women working in a mainly male dominated field, she faces struggles that her male collegues don't.

independent portrayal of the greek goddess athena. ²¹⁺ rp account. minors dni, you'll get blocked if you do. open for plotting. ger/eng. triggerwarnings: this blog contains adult content and strong language.

#userfakevz #Ⅰ. ⠀ ❛⠀𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.⠀❜#Ⅻ. ⠀ ❛⠀𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒.⠀❜

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girlfox · 8 days

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heart for a super short starter? feel free to specify if you'd like modern, otherwise it'll be whichever i feel suits your muse!

#𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 ⠀⠀(⠀ⅰ.⠀)⠀⠀𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑:⠀⠀ಇ⠀⠀oh-kae!

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deertism · 2 months

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‼️ Important ‼️

Casey is no longer host for the time being and won't be running this blog. Either I'll have someone else take over for him, or we'll temporarily move to @narcgrl (another headmates blog, wip). Thanks for listening, I'll update you when I figure out what I want to do. —ARKNET, prosec and temporary host.

#💊 ━━ 「Ⅰ」. ARKNET #🫀 ━━ 「Ⅱ」. patient records #— important

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seraphwires · 8 months

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・ANGELiDOLTHiNG﹕✦ ⋯ a gender related to being a thing who is an angelic idol , an idol who is an angelic thing , an angel idol thing , or any similar combination !

╰╮ ✦ coined by The Eternal Maiden , Alouette ｡

requested by no one !

⋯ coined for day 10 of @haunted-thing ’ s coining event !

#Ⅰ　—　　coining　♱#this is My first creation ! please be kind ♡#hauntedscoiningevent #mogai #mogai gender #mogai coining #xeno #xenogender #xenogender coining #flag coining #thinggender #angelthing #idolthing #angelgender #idolgender #gender coining

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dolce-fiore · 10 months

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⠀ 𝑆𝑜𝑔𝑛𝑜 𝑑𝑖 𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑖 𝑚𝑒𝑧𝑧𝑎 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒 ⠀ ⠀ 𝑬𝒍𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡

﹙ … ﹚daughter of Elena and Francesco de Genova who own ❛ 𝐹𝑖𝑜𝑟𝑒 ❜ a three star restaurant in Syrakus. Currently living in New York as absolutely happy wifey to 𝐽𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑛 𝐻𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑡 with whom she is welcoming her first child next year.

⠀♔ ⠀ ⠀𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ⠀ ⠀ ♔ ⠀ ⠀𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑜 ⠀ ⠀ ♔ ⠀ ⠀𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

„ Vivo dentro il tuo respiro. Seguo il tuo cammino. Fuori nel deserto tu accanto a me. Credo nell'amore, onde di passione. Io e te per sempre. “

#⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⅰ ⠀ ⠀( 𝐸𝐿𝑂𝐼𝑆𝐸 𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐶𝑂𝑈𝑅𝑇 )#userfakevz

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bookwcn · 3 days

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Seungkwan looked around as he sat down making sure that he and Lia had the room to themselves. Even though, he'd only just arrived, he'd heard more than enough about the happenings of the trip so far from Theo, but what he had the most interest in was checking up on one of his quietest friends, especially now that she'd basically crossed the seven seas to support the crush he had an inkling that she had. He was all too eager to confirm his own thoughts as he poured her a cup of tea. "So...are you ready to talk about the fact that you like Seonghwa now or do you want me to keep pretending I haven't noticed?" he said raising a brow as he leaned in. "Sugar?" He held up the container that had the granular white substance with a polite smile on his face.

@liamours

#Ⅰ. ⸻ ( in my style )#liamours

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princeblack · 4 months

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Regulus wakes to a knock at the door, followed by a creaking sound as it opens immediately. Blinking bleary green eyes open, he doesn’t see anyone standing in the doorway, so he knows it’s Kreacher. Sure enough, the house elf’s voice follows. “Good morning, Young Master… Kreacher is here to wake you on behalf of Mistress’s orders. She requests you are ready to depart for King’s Cross by nine o’clock, so you must dress and eat now–”

“Yes, good morning, Kreacher…” Regulus’s voice is groggy and his patience thin, because despite how endearing it always was that the house elf took his job very seriously, it also quickly became exhausting when at the crack of dawn. “Tell Mother I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

Kreacher walks to the edge of his room, folding his hands together as big pale eyes gaze up at Regulus, who’s still in his pajamas. “Yes, Young Master. Kreacher is happy to serve…”

Sitting up, he glances down thoughtfully at the house elf. “Go make yourself some tea and have some eggs and toast, okay?”

Sometimes his mother would ‘forget’ to give the loyal house elf his breaks, something that Regulus made sure to command him to take. “That’s an order, so you must.”

The house elf sniffs a little, the way he always does when he thinks someone might be contradicting Regulus’s mother in any way, but he ultimately agrees. “Yes, Young Master… Master Regulus is generous and will make his mother proud when he’s sorted into the noble house of Slytherin.”

Regulus smiles, unable to contain his natural reaction to the elf. “And I’m looking forward to it. Now, get out of my room so I can change.”

The small house elf bows before leaving, closing the door on his way out. It leaves Regulus in silence, contemplating the future. He’s sixteen and finally going to attend Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just like his predecessors. He would no doubt be sorted into the same house as the rest of his family, and if his home-schooling grades were to be trusted, he would be even more talented in an official academic setting. Everyone expected him to succeed, from his parents to his extended family, including Lucius and Bellatrix. They had already placed their trust and expectations in him, allowing him to attend secret and lavish meetings with the Dark Lord at the Lestrange mansion and various hidden places. Lucius would often say that Draco had much to learn from Regulus, only ‘hoping’ his son would amount to as much both magically and academically. Draco wasn’t allowed to attend the parties or meetings yet, with Lucius claiming he had maturing to do, but Regulus had met Lord Voldemort. Lucius explained he was in a specter form after Harry Potter’s ‘defeat’, in a weakened state and requiring a body to fully walk in their realm again. From what Regulus could tell, Voldemort was smart and well-spoken, only wanting to protect the wizarding world from outsiders and even itself.

It was hard for Regulus to imagine, after living in a wizard’s village the entirety of his life, why muggles would be allowed into their society when they wanted them dead for most of recorded history. Would anyone who wasn’t brought up in their ways truly understand them, or would they be biased to their muggle roots, always defending them even when the magical world was at risk? His father always said that despite the Black family’s riches, their heritage and family was the most important valuable of them all, and they were to protect their magical blood with their lives or it would bring shame upon their fathers and their fathers before them.

He’s heard from his family about the state of muggleborns at Hogwarts, being admitted in just the same as those from wizarding families. Every student was even designated to use muggle transportation to get to the school, in the name of cohesion (“That crackpot old fool doesn’t want to admit he’s boot-licking the muggles”, as Lucius had said to his father). Regulus thought it was an overreaction on his relative’s part, but he did see the fear beneath, and he felt it all around him as muggles were integrated into their society more and more. What if their secret was to be found out, and they were hunted to extinction when their numbers were already dwindled to so few? What if magic was bred out of their bloodlines completely? Even the paintings of Grimmauld Place talked about it and it was never far from the back of Regulus’s mind.

But something else that never left his mind was Sirius’s dusty room, still untouched at the topmost landing of the mansion. There were Permanent Sticking Charms on a lot of the decorations on the wall, including the Gryffindor banners hanging everywhere. Regulus had often wondered how Sirius was the only one in the family to become sorted into Gryffindor, and what exactly had happened between him and their parents that led to his disownment. But his mother and father were tight-lipped, telling Regulus he’s a murderer and a blood traitor. This didn’t quite match up with Regulus’s research, which indicated that Sirius was immediately escorted to Azkaban upon the murder of muggles in broad daylight, all because of his maddened support for the Dark Lord. But none of his family was willing to talk of the incident, and none of the death eaters either. If Sirius ever supported Lord Voldemort or if he was a fraud who de-famed their organization with careless murder in the streets, Regulus never knew. All he knew was his brother’s image was burned from the family tree and the remains of his life here were frozen in time in his bedroom at the top of the stairs.

He thinks about all of these things as he gets dressed, wearing a dark brown cable knit sweater and a black cashmere coat. It isn’t until he finishes getting ready, stopping by his bathroom, before he finally goes downstairs to greet his mother at the dining room table.

There are two plates of food already placed, his mother waiting, giving him a thin smile as he approaches. ”Well, go on. Hurry and eat up before you make your father late. He’s leaving work to pick us up in the ministry car to see you off, but he needs to get back to the office in a timely manner. There was a duel between two goblins in downtown London that needs cover-up… Blew out the side of a residential building and the muggles are in an uproar.”

A portrait of Regulus’s great grandmother, who was positioned near the entrance to the dining room, gives a derisive cough. “I say leave it blown up… The Muggle scum deserved it.”

“I quite agree, Hesper,” Regulus’s mother says, starting to eat her eggs. “But they can’t know of us, so Orion does his job dutifully.”

“I don’t have much left to pack, anyways,” Regulus says, moving to sit down. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life, so I’m a little over prepared…” It’s hard to even worry, he’s so prepared. He knows exactly what happens when he gets to Hogwarts and he’s positive he’ll be in Slytherin.

“Nonsense,” his mother shakes her head. “There’s no such thing as over prepared. But, Regulus, we need to talk about your priorities when you get there. I don’t want any distractions, or assosiacting with blood traitors. I hope to be able to trust you, and not lose you like we did with your brother.” Her tone is brittle, but he can see in her eyes that even the thought of Sirius has made her upset. “If I hear of you fraternizing with any of those muggle-loving fools, I’ll bring you straight back home. Do you understand?”

Regulus stiffens, not eating for a moment as he glances up at his mother. “I understand. I’m only interested in my studies, anyway.” Truth be told, he’s never liked her iron grip, telling him what he can and can’t do. But he respects his family and doesn’t want to end up alone (or worse, in Azkaban) like Sirius. Besides, she knew better, didn’t she? And the Dark Lord was a powerful wizard with influence and a community; someone he wanted to be like.

So he finishes his breakfast as his mother rattles on about his first semester, thinking about all of the belongings he needs to put in his trunk before they depart.

His father arrives late in the ministry car afforded to him by being Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. His mother ushers them all in, bickering with his father the entire way to King’s Cross. They just barely make it to the platform in time, his mother planting a kiss on his cheek and his father giving him an encouraging pat on the back before sending him on his way.

Regulus already knows what to do; pushing his trolley to the bricked barrier and running through it, magically appearing onto platform nine and three-quarters. The Hogwarts Express is exactly as he expected it to look; a large, red steam engine with billowing steam. There was a chattering crowd around him as other students said last minute goodbyes to their parents closer to the train, something that made Regulus jealous as he passed by. Instead, his father had been more concerned with his job, rushing back to the car to return to the ministry, as usual.

Compared to his family, formal and strictly business, a lot of these families seemed close almost. One girl clung to her mother in tears, as if she couldn’t bear to let her go for the term. There were animals everywhere, from cats wandering the platform to owls hooting in cages. Most everyone was starting to file onto the train, Regulus finally bringing in the rear.

Just as he reaches the stairs, he notices someone else struggling with their trunk, trying to get it up the steps. He can only see her back, but she’s wearing an orange sweater and a dark plaid skirt, matching her small brown boots. She has auburn curls and he can see flowers woven into them, which catches his interest.

Finally seeming to realize she was standing in the entrance for too long, she turns to look at him and he’s stunned into silence for a moment. She has the prettiest face he’s ever seen; a small, delicate chin, high cheek bones and big blue eyes that almost sparkle. Remembering he should probably say something, he quickly tries to cover up his reaction. “Hello,” he starts, almost nervously. This is the first person he’s spoken to that’s going to Hogwarts and isn’t from Grimswood like the Malfoys or Greengrasses or Rosiers. How was he supposed to know if she was from a pureblood family? He pushes aside the thought of his family, instead focusing on the present. “Let me help you with that,” he offers, stepping forward to take the trunk from her. His hand brushes hers as he takes the handle. Lifting it, he puts it on the top step before turning to get his own luggage so he can follow behind her. / @devcted