#& i'll show you every version of yourself tonight • witch

[lcfthaunted]

@sorrowsick • Zahrosa sent : (DRAG) for sender to drag a finger up or down receiver's back. received : witch

She flinches, shoulders jerking away from the touch. Mixing bowl clatters to the counter, and she’s certain a bruise will form from where her hip slammed into the edge in her instinctive need to get away. She clutches the lip of the counter, trying to remember to breathe.

In the same instant, Castle is between them, twice his usual size, too-many-teeth bared in a snarl and a discordant growl reverberating in his chest. He is—barely—refraining from tearing the sorceress’ throat out, tearing her arm from her shoulder, but should Zahrosa make another move toward Mazie, he will loose hell.

Mazie usually tries to give people the benefit of the doubt when their touch triggers her, but she has no patience left for Zahrosa’s antics. “Get out of my kitchen,” she demands, voice trembling.

[lcfthaunted]

Oh. Her expression lights up. She does love having free rein. Fingertips tap against her lips as her gaze turns dissecting, picking apart every detail before her. Decisively, “Indian beans, apple tart.” It’s only moments before coffee and pastry are before him. “If you need fixings for your coffee, they’re there at the end.” She gestures to her surprisingly wide selection of additives.

"Well, anything that doesn't taste like swamp water'll do me just fine." The Brit smiled with a quiet smirk in the back of his throat. "I'll drink either, honestly, although with the day I'm having I think a decent coffee could go a long way. How about you surprise me? Your choice." His smile widened a little. "No pressure."

[holy-anxiety-batman]

sorry I'm not done talking about Maisie Peters tonight I saw that tgw gifset and got emotional about her again. long bit of oversharing and lyrical thread pulling below.

"Please, don't give up on me yet/I know I'll get better, I'm just not better yet."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I didn't get to go to the Wembley show but I saw her a few nights before that and I've seen videos of You Signed Up For This at Wembley and nearly cried because it means so much to her and it means so much to everyone there.

A Maisie Peters show is the only concert I would make friendship bracelets for. I got one from a lovely girl at the show in October and it makes me so happy looking at magic and maybes sitting on my jewelry tray every morning and I really might make some for the show I'm going to in February.

Honestly I probably relate to You Signed Up For This too much. But fuck man!! It hits!! I am (almost) 20! I am upset right now! I don't have my drivers license! Shouting is hard! Please don't give up on me, I know that I'm going to get better, I know that I am getting better, I know that I'm better than I've been, but I also know that I'm not better yet there is still so much wrong and painful and hurting but I'm going to get better!! Please don't give up on me!!

And then we got The Good Witch. Which, personally, came at an excellent time for me. Never in my life was there a better time for Maisie Peters to release an insanely cathartic and resonant breakup album than Summer 2023. Because there was something to connect to in every! fucking! song!

I go through cycles of music so I listened to You Signed Up For This really hard when it came out and then moved away from her music for a bit. And then Summer happened and The Good Witch was out and the OPENING LINES ARE A DIRECT REFERENCE TO THE OPENING LINES OF YSUFT. "I am 20 and probably upset right now" became "Still upset, but now I'm 22". And the chorus!!! "I know I'll get better, I'm just not better yet" became "Am I better yet". And it felt like she was saying 'hello again' and 'how have you been'. And I was still upset too!

If I wanted to be angry I could be angry. If I wanted to be nostalgic and wistful and regretful I could be all those things. If I wanted to buy sunflowers and make it to September breathing easily for the first time in months I could (and did) do that.

On the topic of There It Goes. Fucking There It Goes man. I'm young but I am aging! Listening to There It Goes the day after I moved to London. Listening to There It Goes before going on a date. Listening to There It Goes on a walk around my campus. Listening to There It Goes and the comedown of closure, a heartbreak in remission, I wake up and it's October.

But also! If I wanted to be fucking petty I could be petty. And GOD screaming WHAT THE FUCK in a room full of other people also screaming WHAT THE FUCK felt good!! And BSC too. If I ever get a maisie peters tattoo it really might be a bat. She was so funny for that actually! It's funny and I'm laughing!

I also have emotions about literally every song on that album and the deluxe version and I didn't even mention The Band And I even though I think it actually is my favorite tgw song. I think I could talk about Maisie Peters for hours actually. Maybe if I startle awake at 5:30 tomorrow morning like I did today I'll write out thoughts on every single tgw & tgw deluxe song.

ALSO. I've been remembering fun anecdotes about the one cishet guy I dated in high school and there's a lot of funny stories I could tell about that period in my life but the relevant one right now is I like to use lyrics for ig captions and a few days after I broke up with him I used a line from Take Care Of Yourself because it was stuck in my head and one of my friends was having a really hard time and one of HIS friends commented on the post "'My love take care of yourself' 🧐" and I immediately felt horrible of course because I had not even Considered that it could be seen that way and now years later I think that's really funny. I was so caught up in my friends' drama I completely forgot that I had broken up with a guy a few days before and that maybe my use of that lyric could be misunderstood.

[ruinousaltruism-a]

@discountempath​ ❤’d

She’s spent the day shifting the cafe’s decor from the bright colors of summer to the warm tones of autumn. It’s a favorite of hers, how the days get cool and the nights get longer, inching toward winter and Christmas. But before Christmas is Halloween, by far her second-favorite holiday, and it’s time for themed goods to decorate her cases. Pumpkin first, flavored and shaped, then the more Halloween-y choices.

She’s decorating a tray of ghost cookies, amusingly enough, when the surprisingly violent jingle of the bell above her door catches her attention. She looks up to see Tad come in, then startles to her feet when something slams into her wards. Castle’s on his feet, eyes white, teeth bared, outline blurred by writhing shadows. Whatever he can see that she can’t has him on high alert, and she’s not keen on the idea of checking through his eyes. She looks over to Tad. “…Tea,” she says decisively, moving behind the counter, “and then you can explain to me whatever that was.”

[cereuscross]

Just a snack...

Hello lovelies! I'm going to take a week off from all forms of social media, after today, to catch up on my life neglected duties. I'll write as much as I can during that free time. Don't worry, I left you all with something to snack on until I can be more active next week! Please note I had every intention of adding ALL of the ROs in on this but... erm... the short story wrote itself and M kind of hogged the glory. As usual, MALE version is on top with FEMALE version under the cut. ❤

You look down at your drink and swish it around in the plastic cup, watching the amber colored liquid froth and bubble. Then, you pour the contents down the sink with a look of distain. Witches brew – it was an adult’s beverage with a kick meant to knock you on your ass for the rest of the night and the next one, too.

Totally not your style. You were determined to endure this party with a heavy dose of sobriety.

From somewhere over the loud music, drumming like pandemonium in your head, you hear Silas yelling. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, you know,” you mutter more to yourself since you know he can’t hear you, yet. “Just being captain of the unfun club.”

Silas comes up from beside you, snatching the plastic cup from your hand. “We talked about this before you got here, didn’t we? You’re going to let loose tonight.”

“Just this once,” you mimic the tone of your brother’s voice, while he turns and refills the cup in his hand from the murky looking cannister sitting on the granite countertop. You wouldn’t drink that slosh, even if it held all the secrets of the universe.

Silas hands you back the drink, and you immediately dump the contents into the sink. This time crushing the bit of plastic with your hands, then tossing it in the nearby trash bin.

“We are sooo not doing this,” he hisses, grasping you by the elbow, and tugging you out into the living room where everyone else seems to be loitering. Nearby, your eyes land on a couple making out and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the open display. Jesus Christ is all you can think as you’re suddenly stopped and parked in front of Taj, who seems to perk up in interest at your forced arrival.

“Not having fun, I take it?” Taj chuckles, once he takes one glance at your facial expression, which you image is about as dead as you feel on the inside.

“Not even a little bit,” you grumble, tossing a glare at your bothersome brother. “Why is it so frowned upon to not want to be the drunk sorority girl at a party?”  

“Beats me,” Taj says, with a grin. He raises the beer in his hand, doing a salute. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the sorority girl.”

Silas laughs, and you find yourself grinning at the admission. “Now, go and do something wild... for me! This is your party! You can’t be a wallflower the entire time!” Silas exclaims, before releasing you and patting you on the head like a child.

You ignore his attempt to rile you up and watch as he disappears into the nearby crowd.

“Want to trade siblings?” you suggest with a toothy smirk.

“Not today. Ask me tomorrow,” Taj replies, leaning against the wall with a smile.

You glance around, not seeing anyone you know besides the werewolf in front of you. “Your” party – what a liar. “Where is Trent, anyway?”

“Hiding out, I’m sure,” he says, then takes a long swig of beer, arching a brow. “You interested?”

“Huh?” you sputter, glad that you don’t have a drink in hand. “Of course not!”

Taj only hmms before stepping forward and pressing his lips to your ear. His voice lowers to a sultrier tone that's meant for only you to hear. “Good, I would hate to show you my jealous side. I can be very bad.”

When he pulls away, you swallow hard and thin your lips. “I – uh, just remembered I’m supposed to meet someone!”

You rush off before you can think better of how ridiculous you just acted. Gah. You’re practically a walking side show at this point. Taj is never going to let you live this down.

Unsure of where you should go, given Silas rented out the house for the party, you decide being outside is your best bet.

Greeted by a cool breeze the moment you slide open the glass doors, you hesitate when your eyes land on Mersus, who is sitting across from where you’re now standing, at the edge of the pool. His legs are submerged in the water, and you bite back a gasp when he peers up at you with a dark gaze. His silver eyes are unblinking, unmoving from your figure as you cross the distance to go and sit beside him.

“I have been waiting for you,” he says, before finally flicking his attention away and onto the onlookers who have gathered around the diving board. You follow his gaze, seeing several people gathered there, seemingly hungry for the demon’s attention. Although, his appearance does not betray what he truly is, instead he wears the appearance of a Fae. With dark brown skin, long silver hair and eyes. The thin, iridescent markings around his neck climb like vines to rest at the bottom of his lip.

“Leave,” he growls, the command tinted with the barest hint of power, brushing close to the darkness he keeps buried within. At once the group scatters like ash to wind, taking off and disappearing into the house, not daring to look back.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chide, turning your focus back toward him. His jaw clenches a few times before he meets your eyes.

“I wish to have you alone,” comes the quiet reply. “Was it wrong of me?”

You bite your lip, a thousand different responses wanting to spill out. Instead, you focus on the one that shares not even a glimpse of the affection within your heart. “It’s wrong to freely use your power like that. One day someone might notice…”

Your voice trails off, hinting at the deep implications of how bad that could be.

“Senseless worry,” Mersus says, waving off your words with a taloned hand. “I shall rid the world of any who prove to be a burden.”

You sigh, then glance down at the water. “Do you swim?”

“It’s been known to happen,” a hint of amusement tugs at his lips, something near a smile lights his eyes.

“Silas wanted me to be crazy tonight, so I guess I’ll break out of my comfort zone and go for a swim. That is, if you’ll join me?”

Before you can make a move, Mersus slides into the pool, sinking his slender body into the water like a serpent. When he comes up, his hair is wet and plastered back behind his long, slender ears. Silently, he waits.

You jump into the pool, a lot less elegant and sink to the bottom like a stone before kicking your legs out behind you and swimming upwards. Mersus grasps you along the wrist the moment your face touches the air above. “What is it?” you ask, slightly worried by his sudden closeness.

Mersus deflects the question with a drawn-out silence, one that has you reeling in confusion. And something else… something almost sinful in its desperation.

Then, he releases you as someone laughing steps outside on their phone.

You look down at your drink and swish it around in the plastic cup, watching the amber colored liquid froth and bubble. Then, you pour the contents down the sink with a look of distain. Witches brew – it was an adult’s beverage with a kick meant to knock you on your ass for the rest of the night and the next one, too.

Totally not your style. You were determined to endure this party with a heavy dose of sobriety.

From somewhere over the loud music drumming like pandemonium in your head, you hear Silas yelling. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, you know,” you mutter more to yourself since you know he can’t hear you, yet. “Just being captain of the unfun club.”

Silas comes up from beside you, snatching the plastic cup from your hand. “We talked about this before you got here, didn’t we? You’re going to let loose tonight.”

“Just this once,” you mimic the tone of your brother’s voice, while he turns and refills the cup in his hand from the murky looking cannister sitting on the granite countertop. You wouldn’t drink that slosh, even if it held all the secrets of the universe.

Silas hands you back the drink, and you immediately dump the contents into the sink. This time crushing the bit of plastic with your hands, then tossing it in the nearby trash bin.

“We are sooo not doing this,” he hisses, grasping you by the elbow, and tugging you out into the living room where everyone else seems to be loitering. Nearby, your eyes land on a couple making out and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the open display. Jesus Christ is all you can think as you’re suddenly stopped and parked in front of Tara, who seems to perk up in interest at your forced arrival.

“Not having fun, I take it?” Tara laughs, once she takes one glance at your facial expression, which you image is about as dead as you feel on the inside.

“Not even a little bit,” you grumble, tossing a glare at your bothersome brother. “Why is it so frowned upon to not want to be the drunk sorority girl at a party?”  

“Beats me,” Tara says, with a grin. She raises the beer in her hand, doing a salute. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the sorority girl.”

Silas chuckles, and you find yourself grinning at the admission. “Now, go and do something wild... for me! This is your party! You can’t be a wallflower the entire time!” Silas exclaims, before releasing you and patting you on the head like a child.

You ignore his attempt to rile you up and watch as he disappears into the nearby crowd.

“Want to trade siblings?” you suggest with a toothy smirk.

“Not today. Ask me tomorrow,” Tara replies, leaning against the wall with a smile.

You glance around, not seeing anyone you know besides the werewolf in front of you. “Your” party – what a liar. “Where is Tress, anyway?”

“Hiding out, I’m sure,” she says, then takes a long swig of beer, arching a brow. “You interested?”

“Huh?” you sputter, glad that you don’t have a drink in hand. “Of course not!”

Tara only hmms before stepping forward and pressing her lips to your ear. Her voice lowers to a sultrier tone that's meant for only you to hear. “Good, I would hate to show you my jealous side. I can be very bad.”

When she pulls away, you swallow hard and thin your lips. “I – uh, just remembered I’m supposed to meet someone!”

You rush off before you can think better of how ridiculous you just acted. Gah. You’re practically a walking side show at this point. Tara is never going to let you live this down.

Unsure of where you should go, given Silas rented out the house for the party, you decide outside is your best bet.

Greeted by a cool breeze the moment you slide open the glass doors, you hesitate when your eyes land on Mersa, who is sitting across from where you’re now standing, at the edge of the pool. Her legs are submerged in the water, and you bite back a gasp when she peers up at you with a dark gaze. Her silver eyes are unblinking, unmoving from your figure as you cross the distance to go and sit beside her.

“I have been waiting for you,” she says, before finally flicking her attention away and onto the onlookers who have gathered around the diving board. You follow her gaze, seeing several people gathered there, seemingly hungry for the demon’s attention. Although, her appearance does not betray what she truly is, instead she wears the appearance of a Fae. With dark brown skin, long silver hair and eyes. The thin, iridescent markings around her neck climb like vines to rest at the bottom of her lip.

“Leave,” she growls, the command tinted with the barest hint of power, brushing close to the darkness she keeps buried within. At once the group scatters like ash to wind, taking off and disappearing into the house, not daring to look back.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chide, turning your focus back toward her. Her jaw clenches a few times before she meets your eyes.

“I wish to have you alone,” comes the quiet reply. “Was it wrong of me?”

You bite your lip, a thousand different responses wanting to spill out. Instead, you focus on the one that shares not even a glimpse of the affection within your heart. “It’s wrong to freely use your power like that. One day someone might notice…”

Your voice trails off, hinting at the deep implications of how bad that could be.

“Senseless worry,” Mersa says, waving off your words with a taloned hand. “I shall rid the world of any who prove to be a burden.”

You sigh, then glance down at the water. “Do you swim?”

“It’s been known to happen,” a hint of amusement tugs at her lips, something near a smile lights her eyes.

“Silas wanted me to be crazy tonight, so I guess I’ll break out of my comfort zone and go for a swim. That is, if you’ll join me?”

Before you can make a move, Mersa slides into the pool, sinking her slender body into the water like a serpent. When she comes up, her hair is wet and plastered back behind her long, slender ears. Silently, she waits.

You jump into the pool, a lot less elegant and sink to the bottom like a stone before kicking your legs out behind you and swimming upwards. Mersa grasps you along the wrist the moment your face touches the air above. “What is it?” you ask, slightly worried by her sudden closeness.

Mersa deflects the question with a drawn-out silence, one that has you reeling in confusion. And something else… something almost sinful in its desperation.

Then, she releases you as someone laughing steps outside on their phone.

[writtenfangirl]

Mirroball

Mirrorball is one of my most favorite songs off of folklore and I know there’s a certain irony in writing a fic for Loki with a Taylor Swift song as inspiration but damn if I’m not here for it.

5,179 words

I want you to know

I’m a mirrorball

I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

To most Asgardians, Loki was, to put it simply, a pain.

As the god of mischief, it stood to reason that Loki did everything in his power to prove himself as that. From harmless pranks like cutting off Thor’s hair in the middle of the night to downright dangerous acts like letting the Frost Giants into Asgard, Loki’s infamous bouts of selfishness always stemmed from his desire to prove himself worthy of the title god of mischief.

There hasn’t been a single person in all of Asgard who hasn’t been the butt of one of Loki’s jokes. Except perhaps, as Thor has noticed, Lady Y/N, the daughter of one of his father’s oldest and dearest friends.

He almost didn’t believe it but when Y/N was around, Loki was the perfect gentleman. He took her on walks around the palace grounds, spoke in soft tones as if he was afraid to scare her away, and he even laughed around her. Not his usual snidely chuckle or a wry, sarcastic laugh but a proper laugh. The type that was unrestrained and genuine.

And Y/N, well she was one of the best people that Thor knew.

She always helped other people in whatever capacity she could. Thor had never met a single person who spoke ill of Y/N and almost everyone had the desire to protect her, even though she was fully capable of protecting herself.

Y/N was the type of person who exuded warmth, who always made people feel good about themselves. One smile often had the ability to melt even the hardest or hearts. Even Odin, a man notorious for his usually harsh demeanor, softened at Y/N’s presence.

“Do you suppose she’s a witch? I have known Y/N a particularly long time, since we were children in fact, and she had never given me the impression that she is skilled in magic like you are. But with Loki’s cheery demeanor, I don’t quite know what else to call it.” Thor asked his mother one day as they sneakily watched Loki and Y/N giggle to themselves as they walked around Asgard.

“Is seeing your brother’s joy such an unusual feat?” Frigga asked, a knowing smile on her face, her eyebrow raised as she considered her son’s words.

“Yes,” Thor said quickly, the answer automatic. “Just look at him, mother. I have never seen him so at peace before.”

They watched as Y/N crouched down and handed out pastries from a basket she was holding to the children at the orphanage. The distant sound of laughter that came from the orphans seemed to echo, reaching even Frigga and Thor despite how far away they were from them. Loki stood to the side, smiling softly as he watched Y/N talk to the orphans, the children who looked at her as though she was a goddess herself, wreathed in gold and light.

“It’s like seeing a different person,” Thor noted as he continued to watch them.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki’s voice from behind them surprised Thor and Frigga. Loki’s illusion from right next to Y/N vanished, leaving only Y/N, who was still speaking with the orphans. Thor spun around, an almost bashful expression on his face.

“Brother!” Thor greeted, spreading his arms to capture Loki in a hug, which the raven haired brother quickly dodged. “What are you doing here?”

“I could stand to ask you the same thing,” Loki frowned. “You’ve been following us for quite some time.”

“Well I wanted to show mother this different side of you, brother. One that only appears whenever Y/N is around.”

“There is no different side to me,” Loki’s frowned deepened into a scowl.

“A different version then,” Thor amended.

Loki simply rolled his eyes.

I'll get you out on the floor

Shimmering beautiful

And when I break, it's in a million pieces

Hush, when no one is around, my dear

You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes

Spinnin' in my highest heels, love

Shinin' just for you

When Loki was upset, there was really only one thing that made him feel better.

Dancing.

Unfortunately for Y/N, she danced abysmally.

Despite being a seasoned fighter who used her body like an instrument, Y/N always felt as though her body was uncoordinated and continued to simply jerk itself around when she attempted to dance.

It was always a source of shame for her, an insecurity she couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard she tried.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because Loki was close to tears after another argument with his father. His pride, shattered into a million pieces like glass that’s embedded themselves in his heart.

The courtyard at night was warm. The sweet scent of apple blossoms filled the air around them, wrapping itself around the couple. The darkness of the evening shrouded them save for the orange light of the low hanging torches that decorated the walls of the palace and, aside from Y/N and Loki, they courtyard was empty. The celebratory feast they had tonight was loud, louder than usual, and its sounds echoed faintly around them. The party had been prepared for Thor and the Warriors Three as well as for Lady Sif for their triumphant battle against another opponent that Y/N couldn’t bring herself to recall, not when Loki’s turmoil clung around him like second skin.

Loki had gotten into a fight with his father before the revelry had begun and though Y/N wasn’t sure what the fight was about, she was there for him, right by his side, ready to wipe his tears away and listen if he was ready to talk.

Loki’s face was cast in an orange light, illuminating the unshed tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. His look of misery broke Y/N’s heart, squeezing it in an icy grip.

No words were spoken between them and the only contact they had was Y/N’s hands curling around Loki’s.

A sudden idea entered Y/N’s mind and a mischievous smile curled at her lips.

“What?” Loki asked when he noticed Y/N’s change of expression.

Y/N grinned at him, pulling him up to his feet despite his protests.

“Dance with me,” Y/N said with a soft smile.

“You hate dancing.” Loki replied. His face was still fixed in a frown, tears still threatening to fall from his eyes as he remembered his father’s words.

“You don’t. You love it. So, dance with me Loki of Asgard.”

Loki didn’t make a move, simply staring at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes and took his hand in hers, lifting it above her head and taking a small spin.

“Is this suppose to be dancing?” Loki asked, his frown softening as he watched her in amusement.

“I’m a horrid dancer, there’s no need to laugh, my Prince,” Y/N said with a slight roll of her eyes. “You’ll have to take the lead if we are to dance.”

Loki shook his head but nonetheless, the smile that formed on his face was genuine. He took her other hand, placing both her hands on his shoulder as he gripped her waist. Y/N rested her head on Loki’s chest, letting the faint music from the party wash over them as they swayed to its beat.

“I thought you hated dancing,” Loki said, his voice hushed.

“I do. I think I’m abysmal at it. Horrible, really.”

“You give yourself too little credit, Y/N. You haven’t stepped on my toes once.”

“Oh, if that is the case,” Y/N deliberately stepped on Loki’s toes, making the god of mischief release a little “Ow.” She let out a little giggle at his reaction.

They were silent once again before Y/N spoke. She lifted her head, meeting Loki’s clear blue eyes, who regarded her with an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place. “Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“If you tell anyone that I’m dancing with you, I will never speak to you again.”

This time, it was Loki’s turn to laugh. “You have my word, Lady Y/N. This stays between us.”

“I mean it, Loki. I dance for no one except you, my dearest friend. ”

I want you to know

I'm a mirrorball

I can change everything about me to fit in

You are not like the regulars

The masquerade revelers

Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Loki’s affinity for magic and mischief always had people judging him, especially the people he use to call friends before he’d betrayed Asgard.

It use to bother him, having Sif or any of the Warriors Three or even his own brother, scolding him for being exactly who he was. Asking him not to be impish was almost like asking him not to be who he was. Their barbed words often hurt him and the more they lashed out, the urge to make them feel the same way he did grew.

Somehow, he’s convinced himself that their anger and malice was better than their indifference. Anger, at the very least, made him feel something.

“Brother,” Thor said, swaggering into his room in all his mighty glory. With Loki’s sour mood, he almost wanted to throw something at him. But he didn’t bother, especially when he felt at peace laying on his bed.

“What?” Loki said, clearly annoyed at being bothered.

“Are you certain you do not have any desire to attend the party? The festivity will be unmatched!”

“Another battle fought, another battle won, another party to celebrate. I think I’ll pass,” Loki replied, his tone bored.

“Even if Y/N comes?”

Loki scowled. “She already attended to you and your comrades in battle. Must you have her dote to you at the party as well?”

This time, it was Thor’s turn to give his brother a lofty grin. “Brother, it almost sounds as if you are jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“In any case, Lady Y/N dotes on no one except for you. As for the battle, you should have pride that she fought well! Lady Sif was most pleased to have another woman fighting by her side.”

“I don’t care,” Loki scowled.

“Are you upset with Y/N, Loki?” Thor asked with a frown.

Yes.

No.

Loki wasn’t entirely sure if he was upset or not.

Y/N only left for a week, and the week that she was gone helping Thor in battle had to be the longest week of Loki’s long and nearly immortal life. He wasn’t even sure why he was so cross to begin with. It wasn’t a secret that Y/N was also friends with other people, especially her brother. Odin himself has recently pushed a union of marriage between Y/N and Thor and though both of them have refused repeatedly, it hasn’t stopped the Allfather from encouraging their affection whenever he was around.

Loki always found himself irked whenever he thought about Thor and Y/N’s union. Somehow, hearing Y/N rushing into battle with Thor irked him even more now.

Which was, rationally speaking, stupid. Y/N was his friend—his dearest friend—nothing more, nothing less. She was the one person who understood him wholeheartedly, who didn’t judge him for who he was. She never got mad at him whenever he teased her, she simply laughed and had fun.

In Loki’s opinion, Y/N was the only person in all of Asgard who didn’t have a stick up her ass.

“No, brother. I am not upset. Simply tired,” Loki sighed, closing his eyes to prove his point.

“I’ll let Y/N know not to expect you then,” Thor replied. Loki heard his footsteps padding across the room, towards the door before he heard the lock click.

He opened one eye, peeking to make sure that Thor was gone before rising from his bed and taking the form of a Einherjar guard and sneaking out of his room.

Loki could hear the boisterous sound of the party as he approached the dining chamber, the sound of laughter and shouts becoming increasingly louder. He saw attendants of the party milling about, some of them seated on the long tables and chairs while other people were standing about, crossing the room in strides as they flitted from one group to another.

Loki spotted Y/N on a table close to his father, her back turned on him as she spoke and laughed with his brother, Lady Sif and the other members of the Warriors Three. She was dressed in a resplendent gown of gold, enhancing her (E/C) eyes, her hair swept up, making it easier to see her radiant face. He saw his mother on the chair next to his father, an affectionate hand on Odin’s as they spoke in hushed tones.

He slinked across the room, staying by the shadows to hear Y/N and her conversation with his brother.

“I’ve heard the rumors between you and Thor, Lady Y/N,” Loki heard Volstagg say in his loud booming voice. “I must say, you would make a worthy bride for Thor!”

Volstagg was clearly drunk, as he was prone to do in festivities. If the redhead wasn’t stuffing his face with food, he was drinking himself to oblivion. Still, Loki’s urge to stab him for the things he was saying had developed and his knives were itching to be released.

A light dusting of pink shaded Y/N’s cheeks. “Oh well, Thor and I are simply friends. Neither of us have intentions to marry the other.”

“Still,” Fandral chimed in. “You would make a handsome couple and you would make a worthy queen of Asgard.”

Loki was inclined to agree. Y/N would make a fine queen indeed. Not only was she beautiful, she was kindhearted and smart, not to mention capable of handling herself in a fight, much like his mother was. She could maneuver a conversation as easily as Loki could and could even hold herself against Thor in a fight.

However, if Y/N was to be queen, Loki would have preferred to have himself as king by her side.

The realization had the air sucking out of his lungs.

He’d never hoped, never dreamed to imagine such things.

The throne was one thing. Y/N was another thing entirely. To have them together? It had to be the most ambitious thing he’d hoped for. Would it possible to have both? It seemed foolish to think so. But the very thought of it, the very idea of having Y/N by his side while he ruled Asgard rooted itself in him, burying itself so deeply that Loki had trouble finding his breath.

“I thank you for your kind words, Fandral,” Y/N said magnanimously, a small smile playing at her lips. Her words had Fandral beaming at her. “However, I do not think Thor and I would be a compatible match. My heart lies elsewhere.”

“Not with Loki, I hope,” Sif snorted.

“I don’t believe Loki and I are quite there yet,” Y/N said with a strained smile. “Loki is my dearest friend. I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize our friendship.”

“Loki is a mess of a man,” Sif said with a slight frown. She took a swig of her drink before continuing. “You would do better to find someone else.”

Loki tried not to let Sif’s words get to him, but he couldn’t help it.

Sif had a point.

Loki’s always had feelings of inadequacy when it came to his brother and Y/N was the only person in all of Asgard who, with the exception of his mother, always made him feel like he was enough. It was precisely why he felt as though he had no business being with her. She deserved better than him, better than Thor even. She deserved the world and neither Thor nor Loki could give it to her.

“Loki’s made some mistakes,” Y/N said, breaking even more of Loki’s heart. So she thinks he’s a mistake?

“But deep down, Loki is good,” Y/N continued, making Loki’s heart swell. “He’s done some questionable things, there is no denying that. But we mustn’t forget all the good that he’s done. He was simply hurting and lashed out at the wrong people. Loki would never actively try to harm anyone.”

“Except that time he let Frost Giants come into Asgard,” Hogun noted.

“Or that time he sent a Destroyer to Thor when he didn’t have his hammer,” Fandral added.

“How about all of his incessant pranks and the time he tried to rule Asgard,” Volstagg said.

“I believe he tried to rule Asgard twice,” Sif interjected.

With all of their wild and, in Loki’s opinion, inflated accusations, Loki was almost ready to blow his cover and defend himself if Y/N hadn’t come to his defense.

“All questionable things, I agree,” Y/N said, not unkindly. “But Loki’s done plenty of good in this world and I believe he will do even more. We simply must give him a chance.”

Her words warmed Loki’s heart. He couldn’t understand how Y/N, despite everything she’s witnessed and heard about Loki, still chooses to see the goodness in him.

“You are too much of an optimist, Y/N,” Sif sighed. “You see too much good in the undeserving.”

“I don’t think so,” Y/N frowned. “I think there are good and bad in people. I just believe that the goodness that Loki’s done far outweighs the bad. If we focus only on the wrong things a person has done, they can never be redeemed.”

“Wiser words have never been spoken,” Thor said with a smile. “Enough talk of my brother. We are here to celebrate, not mope about. Shall we dance, Lady Y/N?”

“We shall not,” Y/N’s frown morphed into a polite smile. “I abhor dancing. Though I believe Sif would enjoy one.”

Thor simply shrugged before offering a hand to Sif, who took it gladly.

The others peeled off, scattering to different parts of the room, leaving Y/N sitting alone on the table with a pleasant smile on her face.

She looked around the room, scanning the faces around her before her eyes landed on the small, dark alcove that Loki hid in.

She looked at him curiously, like she could see him despite the darkness that surrounded him. Loki held his breath, stilling his body to ensure that Y/N couldn’t see him.

She took a goblet from the table and lifted it to her lips, a knowing smile on her face as she tilted the cup towards him in salute before taking a sip.

And they called off the circus

Burned the disco down

When they sent home the horses

And the rodeo clowns

I'm still on that tightrope

I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

The wind that blew across the garden had Y/N’s hair ruffling, carrying with it the scent of wild blossoms. An unrestrained, gleeful smile was on her face as she felt the wind pick up. The sun was shining down on her face, framing her in a golden light that nearly took the breath from Loki’s lungs.

“Y/N?” Loki asked, almost cautiously. She turned to him, her face free of inhibitions. Loki always considered himself a prideful man but he knew he would kneel before her everyday if it meant she looked at him the way that she did for the rest of his life. Her eyes were crinkled in delight, her lips were painted a dark red and they curved in a gleeful smile, her skin flushed from happiness and she looked at him like he was deserving of every good thing in the world.

“Yes, my dear?” Y/N teased. She always called him that when she was feeling particularly delighted and Loki was almost sure that he could spend everyday of his life hearing her call him that.

Suddenly Loki wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

That he loved her? That she was his salvation? That she was his true savior, the one that could pull him back from brink of darkness? He was her sun, the one piece of light in his life that he couldn’t bare to ever let go.

But none of the words came and Y/N’s expectant look remained.

“Y-you look lovely today,” Loki managed to stutter out. She really did though. Her green gown looked wonderful against her (S/C) skin and a pretty crown of flowers were nestled against her (H/C) hair.

“Thank you,” Y/N beamed radiantly. “You don’t look too bad yourself, my Prince.”

Today was one of the rare days when there were no celebrations, rendering the palace unusually silent. Aside from the occasional Einherjar passing by to ensure that there were no enemies in the palace, Y/N and Loki walk went undisturbed.

Which is just as well. Quiet moments with Y/N were rare and with her being his favorite person, their dalliances were one of the few things Loki looked forward to in his days on Asgard.

“May I ask you something, Y/N?” Loki said, finally finding his courage.

“Of course you may.” She bent down, plucking a particularly beautiful daisy that she added in her flower crown.

“Why do you not wish to marry Thor?” It was a question that had plagued Loki for a long time, especially since rumors of Thor’s and Y/N’s impending nuptials had first reached him. Any other woman would have gladly accepted Thor as a husband. Why didn’t Y/N?

The question was sudden, one that took Y/N by surprise judging by her startled expression. “Uhm… do you want me to?” She asked, uncertain.

“What I want does not matter. Being queen, it is an ambition most women have. Yet you have repeatedly refused my father’s efforts in creating a union between you and my brother. Why is that?”

She looked at him for a second, contemplating her next words. “I suppose because I do not love him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Y/N said with a firm nod. “The only affection I have for Thor is that of friends. Siblings, at most. He is a good man, truly and he would make a fine king and an even finer husband to the right woman. But, I do not wish to see myself sitting by his side, married to him.”

“Is there anyone in particular you would like to marry?” Loki asked casually, as though it was merely a question he’d thought of then. He tried his hardest to hide his sweaty palms and his fast beating heart as he anticipated her answer.

Y/N bent down once again, picking a rose this time, one the color of blood. Her eyes darted around, looking for any signs of life. When she’d deemed it safe, she snapped the stem of the rose and transfigure it into a little bird. With a lift of her hand, it flew into the air with a little chitter.

“Your magic is improving,” Loki noted with a sense of pride. She’d asked him once to teach her how to wield magic and though Loki was initially reluctant to teach her, he found that she flourished under his tutelage. She excelled faster that he’d anticipated and Loki was almost certain that she could be just as good as him soon, if not better.

“Yes, well I happen to have a very good teacher. He could be impatient but he’s very smart so I suppose that more than makes up for his temper.”

“I have never once lost my temper with you!” Loki said defensively, but a smile was tugging at his lips from their banter. “Is this how you will treat your future husband? Teasing him and lying to him? I must say, I feel sorry for the man.”

“Why are you so curious about my marriage proposals, Loki Odinson?” She teased as she began walking around the garden once again, Loki by her side. “Will you offer yourself up as a willing candidate?”

“I may,” Loki replied with a mischievous smile. “Will that be such an awful thing for me to do?”

“I suppose not. There could be worse people to accept a proposal from.”

“You wound me, Lady Y/N. Most people would be honored to receive a proposal from me.”

“When have I ever been like most people?”

“I suppose you are right. However, I happen to think I would make a better groom than Volstagg.”

Y/N released a merry laugh. “You think it would be a bad thing to marry Volstagg?”

That laugh. Loki had always adored her laugh, so free and wild, especially when it was only the two of them.

“Of course I do! Just look at him! Brutish and huge. He eats and drinks nearly everything in sight, especially when he’s nervous. It would take a special person to tame him.”

“You don’t think I’m special enough for him?” Y/N said, raising an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips.

“I think you are a great deal too special for him.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure where the words came from but he knew that they were true. Y/N was more than just special, she was everything a person should be. Goodness and kindness all wrapped up in one package. Loki was almost certain that Y/N could be the ugliest person in the universe and yet she could still outshine everyone because of how good she was.

“Oh Loki,” Y/N said, almost sheepishly. “You are too kind to me.”

“It’s not kindness when it is the truth,” He said with a shrug as they continued walking through the beautiful garden.

“Well in that case, you are very special as well.”

“Normally, I would agree but when compared to you, I must decline.” Loki said with a smile.

“Why must you do that, my Prince?” Y/N frowned.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down in the way that you do.”

“I do not put myself down. I am simply telling the truth.”

Y/N paused, pulling at Loki’s sleeve. “Stop it.” She stared at his eyes intently, boring into his very soul. “Loki, you must stop this at once. You are a good man and every bit as worthy as your brother.”

Y/N’s words made him feel uncomfortable, vulnerable even.

She always had that odd effect on him. She says one thing and suddenly, Loki feels things he doesn’t want to feel. It drove him mad most of the time and other times, it piqued his curiosity.

“You never answered my question,” Loki said, changing the topic and dodging Y/N’s heated gaze.

“Which one?” Y/N’s eyes flitted across his face before she looked away, continuing their path through the gardens.

“Is there anyone in particular you’d like to marry?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“Why? Do you have plans to marry me?” Y/N’s tone was teasing but something in her faced urged Loki to tell the truth. To shed the pretenses and let her know exactly how he felt.

“I do.” Loki said, almost nonchalantly, betraying none of the trepidation that he felt.

I'm still a believer but I don't know why

I've never been a natural

All I do is try, try, try

“You do?” Y/N’s expression of surprise was almost comical and under any other circumstances, Loki would have normally made fun of her for it. But he couldn’t bring himself to, not when he felt his heart crawling towards his throat, beating so rapidly, he was almost sure it would jump right out of his mouth.

“I do.”

“Loki, I—“

“Before you reject me, Lady Y/N,” Loki said, pushing as much sincerity as he could in his eyes, his hands flying towards her shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady, to remind himself that this was real, that she was real. “I know that I not worthy of you. I am not like my brother, where everything comes to him naturally and so effortlessly. Thor is a good man and I know that should you choose him, he would make a fine husband. He could make you happy and he will do it without trying. You will bear his children, you will be his queen and you will live happy until the end of your days.”

“Is this your attempt to sway me to marry you, my Prince? Because I can assure you, it seems to be doing the opposite,” Y/N said with a weak laugh.

“I am horrid and miserable and never content with my life, my dear. I am and always will be the shadow to my brother’s light but I never cared, not with you by my side. You were the fireworks in the midnight of my life and I have loved you everyday since we were children. I may never give you the life my brother can but I hope you know that I will spend everyday of my life trying to make you happy.”

I’m still on that trapeze

I’m still trying everything

To keep you looking at me

When tears sprang from Y/N’s eyes, Loki suddenly felt his heart sink. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t bear to see her look at him with those tears in her eyes. He let go of her, turning away, his heart shattering into a million pieces at Y/N’s silence.

“Loki, please look at me,” Y/N whispered, her warm hands winding themselves around his neck, moving his head until their eyes met once again.

The urge to say something horrible, to rebuke her and make her feel the exact same way Loki was feeling pricked at him. Her rejection stung worse than anything his family has said to him, anything Odin had ever said to him and he wasn’t sure if he could ever pick up his broken pieces ever again.

Her (E/C) eyes search his face and before Loki could say a snarky barb that would protect his cold heart from Y/N’s inevitable harsh words, their lips met and suddenly, Loki forgot every horrible thing he wanted to say.

Her lips felt soft against his own and their kiss was everything and nothing like Loki had expected.

It was thrilling, sure but Loki also felt safe. Secure. As if all his life he’d been on the run from a horrible monster and finally found himself surrounded by people willing to protect him in a place that could finally hold the monster at bay.

When they finally broke off, Y/N had a wide grin on her face. “I love you too, my dear.”

“I take it that means you’ll marry me?”

“I will.”

And Loki was sure that he would never feel this happy ever again.

[lcfthaunted]

@sorrowsick • Zahrosa sent : “Someone, somewhere has failed you miserably. You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for but you never were.“

Mazie’s initial response is a mere raising of her eyebrows, but the Nightmare next to her takes offense. Castle huffs, somewhere between a laugh and a growl, and hauls himself to his feet. It is not a small dog he takes the form of, as his shoulders come just below Mazie’s hips. She rests her hand between his shoulder blades; part comfort for herself, part reminder to him to behave. The witch before her unsettles her in ways she struggles to comprehend, and she knows Castle is picking up on that.

“You are not wrong that my training has been… slapdash,” she says slowly, “but that does not mean I was left unloved. I could not ask for a better mum and dad, better siblings, and Madeline did the best she could with the knowledge she had.” Madeline had bound her and Castle, after all.

Mazie tips her head to the Nightmare. “As for unprotected, well. I doubt anyone could argue that.” The Nightmare grins, and it is not the grin of a dog, with too many, too long, too sharp teeth.

[lcfthaunted]

@sorrowsick • ankha sent : would you hold this for a second? received : witch verse

She hums a distracted agreement, offering her hands to take whatever Ankha needed offloaded. Her mind is entirely elsewhere, following Castle’s patrol of her wards. He could reach out to her if they’re damaged, but it’s a nice feeling, wandering alongside him mentally if not physically. She doesn’t get much time outside anymore; there’s always something to be done that requires her physical attendance.

She probably should have been paying better attention to her physical space, as the weight of Ankha’s item startles her back into her body. “… Do I want to know what this is?”

[lcfthaunted]

@sorrowsick • ankha sent : would you really know the difference? received : witch verse

She shares a startled glance with Castle. “I mean—” The bond would protect them, wouldn’t it? But then, they’ve never had reason nor desire to test it like this before. Mazie reaches out, rests her hand on Castle’s back. She still doesn’t want to test it.

“I should hope so,” she answers finally. “I don’t think Castle is very easy to replace. He’s, uh…” She grins briefly, glancing at him again before shifting her attention back to Ankha. “A very particular breed.”

Castle huffs in amusement.

[lcfthaunted]

@lighthouseborn sent : “You're right to think me strange, but you'd be strange too if you knew what I know.”

His words drew a small, enigmatic smile from her, and she gave half a glance to the back room where Castle was sprawled. It was easier to keep the Nightmare hidden away sometimes; sailors are a superstitious lot, and the last thing she needed is someone accusing her familiar of being some sort of death omen. Mazie resisted the urge to remind the young pirate princeling that she is a witch, and merely dipped her head in acknowledgment.

“Knowledge makes strangers of us all, I suppose,” she mused, attention on her work. It was not a simple request put to her, but she is one of few capable of filling it. “If you do not mind me asking, then, what is it that drives you to need such a specialized talisman? Strangeness and I are dear friends, after all.”

[lcfthaunted]

“Thank you for calling Healing Treats, this is Mazie, how can I help you?”

“T’es enciente?”

Mazie winces. “Ah, Madeline. Un moment.” Mazie glances around. “Waverly? Could you do me a favour? Can you help any customers that come in for a bit? My mentor needs to… chew me out.” She gestures to the phone in her hand.

Waverly nods. “Yeah, of course! Happy to help.”

“Thank you,” Mazie says, before ducking into the kitchen.

“C’est un bon sentiment, ‘chew you out’,” Madeline grumbles. “Tu vas le garder?”

“B’en sûr qu'oui,” Mazie answers, affronted. “Pas de question.”

“Ouais, ouais, d’accord. T’es toujours en Canada?”

“Ouais, toujours en le Triangle.” Her free hand comes up to worry at her blouse collar.

“Oh, dit-moi que le père n’est pas un Earp.”

Mazie snorts. “Non, c’est pas un Earp. N’y a personne capable de le faire.”

“Les petits miracles.”

“Madeline!” But she can't help laughing.

Madeline makes a dismissive sound, then realizes there's another question to ask. “… C’est pas un Holliday?”

Mazie inhales, grimaces, unable to answer.

“Ohh, la la la la la. Mazileah Josette.”

“Je ne l’ai pas fait exprès!” She says defensively.

“Non, c’est completement un accident.”

She rolls her eyes and grumbles, “J’suis une adulte.”

“T’es une enfante,” Madeline snaps.

“Seulement parce que t’as quatre des siècles! J’ai presque trente ans, c'est pas d’adolescent.”

“J’y viens. T’as aucune idée ce que vous devez faire.”

Mazie groans. “Madeline…”

“Combien des semaines?”

She sighs. “Dix semaines.”

“Bon. J’arriverai quand t’as vingt, vingt-quatre semaines. Vous tous, vous aurez besoin de mon aide.”

She sighs, quietly admits, “Je veux pas lui dire.”

“Je vais pas lui dire pour toi,” Madeline says, then warns, “Mais un jour, t’as peut être pas de choix. À bientôt.”

“Au revoir,” Mazie murmurs, then hangs up.

[ruinousaltruism-a]

@dreamwaited​ ❤’d

“Don’t be mean,” she murmurs to Castle just as the door opens. She offers the newcomer a smile, ignoring how the shadows shift and writhe around her familiar. Sometimes, the Nightmare just enjoyed provoking responses out of people, especially if he sensed they might be skeptical of the existence of creatures like him. “I’m Maisy, welcome to Healing Treats. What can I get going for you today?” If Castle’s going to be a brat, he doesn’t get an introduction. His shadows shift a little more obviously, though Maisy pointedly ignores him.

[ruinousaltruism-a]

@dreamwaited​ ❤’d

“Don’t mind him,” Maisy says idly, waving at the large shadowy beast lying at the end of the counter. Castle’s head is up and facing him, but dark eyes are indistinguishable from the rest of him. “He doesn’t like people in general, especially if they don’t have heartbeats.” She looks up from her work, meets his gaze. Smiles. She absolutely knows. “Something tells me you’re not here for my pastries,” she continues, eyes redirected to the cupcakes she’s frosting. “What can I help you with? It’s not going to be a meal, not in this town, I’m afraid.”

[ruinousaltruism-a]

@kcrclrezni​ ❤’d

For the most part, Castle doesn’t like people. He’s not a Dog, and doesn’t usually enjoy being treated like one. He Likes Maisy, so he’ll tolerate people as long as they don’t pose any sort of threat to Maisy. He’s learned that people leave him alone if he’s asleep, so he sleeps through the day unless something trips Maisy’s wards, and goes out hunting at night. He can feast more freely at night, anyway.

Maisy’s well aware Castle doesn’t think of himself as a Dog, so when she comes out of the kitchen to greet her newest customer, she’s struck speechless at the sight. Castle is sitting up and wagging his tail under the attentions of the man in her cafe. She glances from Castle to the man and back, wondering of the man is aware that Castle isn’t exactly… corporeal at the moment. The way the shadows are shifting around her familiar is hard to ignore, but humans have always been good at ignoring things they decide don’t make sense.

[ruinousaltruism-a]

@solsnkta​ ❤’d

Castle slinks behind her counter - as much as a creature whose shoulders come to Maisy’s waist can slink - and hides himself in the space under the register. He is too large for the space; Maisy will inevitably step on him, but he can manage it. There is just something too bright about the girl who just entered the cafe for the Nightmare to stand.

Maisy smiles. “Don’t mind him, he’s a grumpy old man. I’m Maisy, thanks for stopping in. Craving something specific, or just looking for something easy?”

[ruinousaltruism-a]

open ;; witch verse

It’s the Friday night before Halloween, and she’s spent all day baking for the night’s event. Half costume party and half masquerade ball, Maisy agreed to cater in exchange for free admission for herself and one other, if she’d like. Unfortunately, with the normal business of Fridays and all the baking she has to do for the party, she runs out of time to strengthen her wards around town. Hopefully they’ll be strong enough to hold against a real threat, but she would have liked to double-check them anyway, this close to Halloween. Castle is out wandering, mostly non-corporeal, and she knows if anything happens he’ll alert her immediately, but she still can’t shake the feeling that something is going to Happen tonight.

Unwilling to travel across town in her costume, she loads it and all her baking into the waiting van and heads to the venue. It’s simple enough to set up the food, then she’s off to change into her costume, an unquestionably Cinderella inspired gown complete with silver filigree mask. She lets one of the girls do her makeup, so it’s a little heavier on the shimmer than she would have done herself. She intends on enjoying the party as best she can, though her mind keeps wandering to her wards. Even if it’s an uneventful night, it’s still going to be long, so she opts for the nonalcoholic drink choices. Drink in one hand and a small plate of pastries balanced on top, she starts mingling with the partygoers, most of whom she’s already familiar with.