#┊glimpse into the crystal ball ೃ���

[the-travelling-witch]

thinking about a spider-man au with childe

you’ve had a crush on ajax basically since the first day of college. he’s funny and witty, surprisingly smart for his jock aesthetic and -let’s face it- very hot. all of which is contrasted by the way he fumbles through a conversation with you, an air of clumsy yet innocent charm about him.

and then you’re walking home late at night. an arguably questionable decision that ends with you coming face to face with a criminal you’ve seen on tv before. but just as you’re contemplating your options, your heart leaping out of your chest, you’re being swooped up and into the strong chest of the uprising hero people have been whispering about in the hallways.

all of a sudden, high above the city skyline, your heart is pounding for a whole other reason as the guy tries calming you down. he sets you down not far from your apartment and you thank him profusely, to which he merely assures you not to worry about it.

as you fall into bed that night, you can’t stop thinking about the way his muscles moved beneath you, how melodic and familiar his voice was. when you try to imagine what he looks like underneath the mask, somehow blue eyes and ginger hair come to mind but you shake it off as your brain conflating your college and celebrity crush.

meanwhile, ajax is sitting on the edge of a building, dragging a hand down his face as he tries to regulate his heartbeat. going over his conversation with you again, he mentally kicks himself for basically anything and everything he said. seriously, would he ever not fumble while talking to you?

[gallawitchxx]

🔮💨 crystal ball weed bong mickey 🔮💨

part 8 for @galladrabbles "still into you" by paramore, prompted by @crossmydna

master post (updates weekly!) | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

Mickey battles between being benevolent and brash; nature versus nurture at near-constant war within him. But before he can bark out anything at all, he feels another wave pulling him under.

“Turn this chick shit off, man.” Flexed fingers separate his own, sneaking between them and holding on tight. Strong shoulders shrug. “Think it’s kinda like us.” A belly full of butterflies. A pair of flushed faces. “You’re still into me, huh?” A nod, sure and steady. “Always gonna be into you, Mickey.”

That last line takes him longer to shake, and goddammit, there’s no way Gallagher didn’t notice.

[cxnsolatio]

TAG DROP!!

CHARACTER & GROUP TAGS

✚ | ❝ you're standing in the wings ; there you wait for the curtain to fall ❞ { c / donquixote doflamingo }

✚ | ❝ silent screams laughing here ; dying to tell you the truth ❞ { c / donquixote rosinante }

✚ | ❝ not alone with a dream / just a want to be free ; with a need to belong / i am the clansman ❞ { c / monkey d. luffy }

✚ | ❝ teach me the art of war ; for i shall bring more than you bargained for ❞ { c / roronoa zoro }

✚ | ❝ but brutus wasn't kind / wasn't strawberries that were red ; he wasn't cutting bread ❞ { c / eustass kid }

✚ | ❝  just for a second a glimpse of my father I see ; and in a movement he beckons to me ❞ { c / usopp }

✚ | ❝ i see the ghosts of navigators but they are lost / as they sail into the sunset they'll count the cost ❞ { c / brook }

✚ | ❝ but a ghost lives in my veins ; silent the terror that reigned marbled in stone ❞ { c / sanji }

✚ | ❝ nowhere left to run ; navigator's son / chasing rainbows all my days ❞ { c / bepo }

✚ | ❝ face up ; make your stand / and realise you're living in the golden years ❞ { c / shachi }

✚ | ❝ say goodbye to gravity and say goodbye to death / hello to eternity and live for every breath ❞ { c / penguin }

✚ | ❝ can i tempt you? come with me / be devil may care ; fulfill your dream ❞ { c / ikkaku }

✚ | ❝ unknowingly blessed and as his life unfolds / slowly unveiling the power he holds ❞ { c / tony tony chopper }

✚ | ❝ you watch the world exploding every single night ; dancing in the sun / a newborn in the light ❞ { c / nico robin }

✚ | ❝ they dared to go, where no one would try / they chose to fly where eagles dare ❞ { g / straw hat pirates }

✚ | ❝ when it comes to the time are we partners in crime? when it comes to the time ; we'll be ready to die ❞ { g / heart pirates }

OTHER TAGS

✚ | ❝ and the ship it sinks like lead into the sea / and the hermit shrives the mariner of his sins ❞ { v / contemporary }

✚ | ❝ we fly a flag in some foreign earth ; we sailed away like our fathers before ❞ { v / ??? }

✚ | ❝ can i play with madness? the prophet stared at his crystal ball ❞ { crack }

[kquil]

REGULUS BLACK | HOLD HER PART 2

SUM. : Regulus sees a glimpse of his future with you and it's all he needs to give in

TAGS. : sunshine reader x grump regulus ; regulus is in denial ; pandora lestrange being the ultimate bestie ; james is in denial too ; james is not a shipper ; reader is precious ; regulus finally gives in

LENGTH : 2k

PART 0.5 | PART 1

Today was a shared class in Divination. Regulus doesn’t see much use for the subject, the antithesis of his divination partner and close friend, Pandora Lestrange. She was a whimsical being with curious mannerisms but that was why Regulus found her so refreshing to be around. She points out what isn’t always obvious and never judges anyone for anything. For those traits alone, she’s the only person he’s been able to talk about regarding you. 

After the fiasco at the courtyard following your bogart lesson, it’s become incredibly obvious to Regulus how attached he’s become to you. And vice versa. Over Lupin, you had gone to him for comfort. He was the one to wipe away your tears, he was the one to lovingly pet your hair, he was the one to whisper sweet reassurance into your ear, he was the one who held you tight until your shaking figure calmed and you were no longer sobbing helplessly into his shoulder. 

“You like her,” Pandora had declared, matter-of-factly after the event. He had gone to her, unable to fully articulate his feelings and needed guidance from someone who wasn’t naturally disparaging. “As more than a friend,” Pandora elaborated further when her brief answer didn’t satisfy him, sending the youngest Black brother spiralling. It was a reality he had been actively denying in an attempt to distance himself from you. His family were dangerous people and so were his forced associations – he didn’t want to burden you with that type of peril. 

Ever since that day, owing to his whispers of protection, Regulus avoided you adamantly. It wasn’t easy, however. You didn’t make it easy. Being your precious, cheerful self, you didn’t antagonise him for his sudden distance. Whenever you would catch his eye, you would flash him a smile. It’s as bright and warm as he remembers – you haven’t changed at all in spite of his obvious avoidance. 

“You are conflicted,” Pandora whispers from beside him as the objectives for the lesson are laid out by their divination professor — they were to use their crystal balls to attempt looking into their partner’s future. The procedure follows the same steps as their previous lesson, where they were tasked with looking into each others’ past. There were only a few tweaks that needed considering for future sight so it was simple enough. “There’s no need to distance yourself from someone who brings you such peace, Regulus,” she smiles at him serenely, not a trace of judgement in her eyes as the professor finally allows them to commence their set tasks. 

“It’s for a good reason—”

“You aren’t protecting her,” Pandora takes the lead and begins the ritual as Regulus grumbles opposite her, “You only succeed in denying her and yourself happiness. It’s time to stop, yes?”

Regulus doesn’t want to answer regardless of her truthful observations, “Do you see anything about my future?”

With grace, Pandora allows the change in subject and focuses on her crystal ball. The two of them actively ignore a growing dispute occurring not too far from their table. The pair protests their tasks, questioning the validity of divination and doubling down on their claims of the subject being pointless once the professor makes his way over to interject. Regulus scoffs under his breath, eyeing the duo critically in his peripheral. 

“They’re only trying to divert attention from their own incompetence,” Regulus returns his gaze to Pandora, feeling apologetic over her needing to concentrate twice as hard because of the distracting background noise. 

Pandora hums in agreement but keeps her main focus on the crystal ball until she’s finally able to conjure up a light grey cloud. The achievement steals Regulus’ attention – he’s always been fascinated by his friend’s ability in the subject; she makes the practice more believable to the pale Slytherin and the lessons more interesting to partake in.

“What was that, Black?!” one of the temperamental duo snaps, having heard Regulus’ snide comment. It wasn’t appreciated and the tension in the air suddenly came alive with the heated rage emanating from their combative classmates. But Regulus pays his aggressor no mind; he kept his attention solely on Pandora and the ball, which now swirled with a stormy cloud compared to the previous light grey — it took the concentration of both people to make the task work and Regulus wasn’t going to put his friend’s efforts to waste. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to you—!” upset at being ignored so flippantly, the classmate reaches over and pushes their table. 

Suddenly, the crystal ball was flung off its stand, propelled by the forceful jolt and sent crashing to the stone floor. It was a majestic disaster with glass pieces sent flying across the cold stone as the stormy cloud from within the ball was released into the air in a screen of opaque, dark-grey smoke. All attention is on the emitted fumes and gasps can be heard about the room as the cloud begins to create a clear picture, painted in vibrant colours so that all witnesses had no doubts about what they were seeing.

The smoke formed the undeniable image of Regulus, only, this version of him looked a little older. But he had the same elegant nose, perfectly permed hair, steel-grey eyes and sharp features. It was, without question, Regulus. The only difference was his serene smile. It looked natural on this older Regulus’ face, his features appearing to melt into the expression as another figure emerged. 

It was you. 

“Merlin’s beard, is that their future?” Regulus hears a faraway whisper. It grounds him in the realisation that he might be seeing what his life entails with you in the picture. Unable to breathe or move, Regulus continues to watch what plays out before him like a man possessed. Because, maybe this had the answers. He can no longer deny that you were an important person to him. But will that entail withdrawn yearning or a shared warmth? 

Everyone watches as an older version of you appears before Regulus. You look so beautiful, mature and with an elegance that elevates your existing beauty. The way you look at Regulus makes it seem as if he had swiped all your troubles away; your beaming countenance conveys your carefree spirit while your smiling eyes convey a deep devotion to the Regulus you hold your hand up to cup the face of. 

Regulus watches as he leans into your touch, eyes closed and with a peaceful smile on his face. He says something, then you say something and you’re leaning up further so that your noses are touching and your lips are mere centimeters away from each other’s. His heart almost stops beating in his chest at this point. But you take it one step further by tilting your head and pulling the image of him into a deep, heartfelt kiss. Squeals of delight were heard throughout the room, mostly from the girls as the guys quietly gasped, unable to realise that such a contented version of their usually stoic Slytherin classmate could exist. 

It was at that moment that Regulus remembers Pandora’s earlier words: there’s no need to distance yourself from someone who brings you such peace. Regulus finally understands. All this time, he was being selfish. He was selfish by denying his happiness while simultaneously denying your happiness too. It wasn’t his intention but that was what he had been doing and the guilt that pinched at his heart was painful. How could he deny such a cheerful and innocent person something as wonderful as happiness? 

He was ashamed. But as he watched you and his future self embrace each other tightly before pulling away to look into each other’s eyes, something began to tug at the strings of his heart. It was a yearning, a craving, a desperate need to see you and hold you and pull you into a kiss he only plans to deepen and never pull away from.  

Future Regulus has his arms wrapped around your waist as your hands hold his face at either side, your fingers twitching in the temptation to comb through his inky, curled locks. It seemed like forever before you finally pulled away from one another and future Regulus leaned back to flick his wand, accio-ing a bouquet into his hands. 

With fond eyes, Regulus watches your future self’s reaction as if he were the one to bring you the flowers and not the future version of him. He savours the bright smile across your kiss-coloured lips and the little jumps you do. Cute. You always jumped like that to express your cute joy. It’s so incredibly endearing, no wonder his future self was entranced and fully committed to bringing you simple joys over and over again. The edges of the scene begin to fade as the cloud becomes lighter and lighter in colour. Eventually, the vibrant colours of the scene begin to bleach out just as you hold the flowers to your face for a shy smell of the blossoms. The image fully bleeds away just as everyone witnesses future Regulus bring your spare hand up to his lips, where he kisses your knuckles while his chin brushes against your wedding ring. All the while, his own, matching marriage band glistens on his ring finger. 

The class is silent as the professor vanishes the smoke completely and broken glass pieces with a flick of his wand. 

“50 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW AND SLYTHERIN!” everyone is jolted from their frozen states at the booming elation of their divination professor, “Congratulations on a successful future reading Miss Pandora and Mr Black,” he turns to the argumentative student from earlier and remarks somewhat patronisingly, “your pair could learn a thing or two from that,”

The gossip chain was immediately in motion after the class. By the time dinner had arrived for everyone, the entire school was privy to what had happened and Regulus was on the lookout for any indication that you may have heard the news too. 

“WhAT?!” James Potter’s incredulous squawk of disbelief was heard by everyone and Regulus had to bite back a smirk. Trust Potter to make things obvious – if James knows then you know too. “THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! NOOOO!” James’ protesting sobs soon became incoherent as he slumped against the dinner table, those closest to him patting his back as others avoid his theatrics completely, wanting to have a normal dinner for once. Some things were coherent enough such as: ‘corrupted’, ‘married’, ‘please no’, ‘never let it happen’, and ‘not her’. All were expressed in varying degrees of distress and despair, as expected from someone who took it upon himself to adopt you as his baby sister despite the absence of any blood relation. 

For now, Regulus can wait, he can hold his tongue, and he can keep himself from reaching out and pulling you into a long embrace. He had yet to apologise for his pathetic behaviour – what was he thinking distancing himself from you, thinking it would keep you safe when that only leaves the two of you vulnerable and deprived of the future you had the potential to share. 

Looking over, he watches with fond eyes as you comfort James in a vain attempt to distract yourself from the gossip and becoming overly flustered. You’re too precious. He’ll allow himself one full day; he can, at least, keep himself away that long to help you digest what happened. 

Appearing to sense his lingering gaze, you look up and meet his eyes. As predicted, you’re immediately flustered and look away but not without trying to face him again and offer your usual warm smile. It’s as if you’re telling him it’s okay, that you’re okay with what’s happened and what it all means for you. You look adorable, so cute and sweet. Why do you have to look like that and torture him further?!

No… he can’t last a full day. 

He won’t even make it past the hour.  

navi.

A/N : why is it that I’m inspired at the most inconvenient times? I couldn’t go to sleep because I had this scenario stuck in my head until I finally gave up and decided to write it on the spot at 3am. It’s super cute so I hope you darlings like it too hehe~ 

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[servantofthefates]

10 Reasons Why I Love Being a Witch

1) Witchcraft loves me back.

With witchcraft, you get what you give. If you respect a spell’s instructions and perform it with faith, it will work. If you treat your tarot deck with regard, it will give you honest answers. Witchcraft yields results here and now, instead of promising eternal happiness after death.

2) It embraces who I am.

Witchcraft will never censor your truth by asking you to suppress your emotions. Pride, anger, greed, lust, envy… These are what make you human. And they are fuel for rituals. The craft teaches you how to harness and direct them, so you can live up to your potential.

3) It does not care about money.

Whether you use a $30 or a $3 candle will not affect the outcome of your spell. And the number of tarot decks, crystal balls and pendulums you own does not reflect how good a diviner you are. With witchcraft, faith and power are the only currencies that matter.

4) It allows me to avenge myself.

Turning the other cheek may sound nice. But it and self-love cannot co-exist. And in witchcraft, you have to love yourself before the occult allows you command it. The craft lets me practice self-love by giving back malice to anyone who sends it to me.

5) It allows me to help myself.

When your natural gifts are not enough to survive a challenge or accomplish a task, witchcraft lets you call upon the old gods and their minions for assistance. Spells that protect and disarm, heal and harm, grant and transcend are all at your fingertips.

6) It allows me to help others.

Witchcraft requires you to give back. But not through tithes or other taxes like that. Whenever you come across another soul who you think deserves your assistance, you can cast spells for them or perform divination on their behalf.

7) It lets me master myself.

Most people only know their conscious self. As a witch, you will be introduced to your other selves: your higher self and your shadow self. When the three of you have a strong understanding of one another, there is no obstacle you cannot conquer.

8) It lets me glimpse what is hidden.

Through divination, witchcraft allows you to witness things that have not yet come to pass. It also gives you access to the concealed present and the hidden past. This means you can look into people’s souls and see all their hidden motivations.

9) It dissolves my fears.

As a witch, you know that you are always where you are meant to be. Any unexpected, painful or tragic detours are only meant to reroute you to your true purpose. Witchcraft leads you to your true path. It is impossible to get lost.

10) I am the Pope of my religion.

Even though my family taught me the craft, I was given the chance to put that knowledge to the test. Nobody forced me to believe in anything that did not show itself to be true. And whenever I want to talk to my gods, I do not need a middle man. I always have a direct line.

[the-travelling-witch]

idk wym, it’s as he said… my bby did nothing wrong

furina pulled up his wiki page

(speech bubble says: "i don't even know why i'm here! i did nothing wrong!")

[the-travelling-witch]

au where yuu is originally from a pokémon region, so when crowley goes “you’re our beast tamer now” they just shrug and think to themselves “alright, unconventional name but business as usual i guess” until they realise there are no pokémon here

yuu throwing a pokéball at overblot riddle and watching it bounce off: …

riddle: …

ace, deuce, cater, trey: …

yuu: see normally this solves like 99% of my problems, so idk what you want me to do here… grim, use flamethrower

[anyaboz]

Monumental change follows the path of the Empyreal Dragon. If you catch a glimpse of its blazing fur in the sky, you can be sure your current reality it is not long for this world.

The Empyreal Dragon goes up for sale in my site shop Sunday September 29th at 12pm EDT

The Empyreal Dragon has an amethyst crystal heart. Its head stands about a foot tall and its body stretches 30 inches long. The head is an original polymer clay sculpt, and the horns were individually sculpted out of durable thermal plastic. Its mane and tail were sewn from meticulously layered feathers and faux fur. The body consists of many cuts of high quality faux fur all hand quilted together. It has a fully posable plastic ball and socket armture that runs throughout the whole body. The front feet are hand sculpted from flexible clay with wire inside so each toe can be individually posed. The back legs and ears are cast in very durable resin, and the ears can swivel 360 degrees at a ball joint.

See how it's made on my Patreon.

[yuriisclumsy]

Greetings. I'm happy to see Cale x reader's request.. 💯

Can I request Cale x reader.. Where the reader is kidnapped, so Cale and the others try to help search her but Alberu, the reader's best friend already knows.. He be like : Yup, they didn't kidnap her but she kidnapped them.. Fluff and chaos .🤣🤣🤣

Thanks for reading.🫂🫂❤️❤️❤️

The Kidnapped Wife

[Authors Note]: Look! I updated again! Not my main muse, but I finally got a good idea for this one. Hope you all like this one! This request in back from June. PS. As you can see I don't have my iconic title. that's because of the limit in characters you can have per post. I hate it :D.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1084

»»►Getting kidnapped is something that would definitely happen to us, because, you know…we’re the wife of the most powerful man in existence.

»»►How did we get kidnapped? Oh, I don’t know…maybe it was because of the temptation of FOOD?

»»►Seriously, out of all the things they could have bribed you with, it had to be food? So uncouth.

…

“What do you mean [Name]’s been kidnapped?”

That was the first question Cale asked when he was informed his wife had been kidnapped.

Yes, you read correctly. You have been kidnapped.

And no, you did not take a nap. You’re no kid. I mean that bad people abducted you to an unknown place, far away from any village–hell, far away from any living soul.

“I received a letter from the letter’s boy under your name, Master Cale. When I grabbed it, I smelled the faint traces of poison coming from within it,” Ron explained.

There’s poison in this…?! Cale yelled in his mind, and let go of the paper instantly.

The butler smiled sinisterly, amused at Cale's actions of dropping the letter at the mention of poison. “So, to secure your wellbeing, I decided to open it and see if it was life threatening. But you needn’t worry, Master Cale. The letter only had a small amount of poison in it. It would only take effect if you were to hold it for a longer period of time.”

Bullsh-t. You knew it had poison, and didn’t bother warning me about it, you creepy old man.

“Right… Well, thank you for taking my health and well-being into consideration, Ron.”

“You are very welcomed, young master.” Bastard.

Cale turned his body to look outside the window. “Anything else regarding her?”

“Unfortunately, these foxes were more cunning than this old fool could have anticipated. They left no trace of their presence behind for us to possibly find.”

“...” Cale looked out where the children were playing, unaware of their ‘mother’s’ disappearance. “Call for Rosalyn and Raon. We need their magic for this, also…” he looked back at Ron, “get the crystal.” Ron’s smile widened. “We’re calling the imperial family. This could very well be an attack on the kingdom.”

…

Grunts and pants are the only sounds heard in a room turned upside-down from battling.

“You B-tch!” a man yelled.

“You’re calling me unpleasant?” The man went flying to the wall behind him at full speed. “Me?”

“Ah!” Another goon charged at you from the opposite side. You blocked it by grabbing his hand, going underneath, you punched him in the stomach. “Agh..!”

“Screaming your attack is very ineffective. Weren't you lot professionals?” You saw a small glimpse of the shining of a gun's metal. With quick reflexes, you throw one of the limited pieces of furniture from the palace you had been held hostage and threw it at him, rendering him immobile. “Cute try, but not good enough.”

You stood in the middle of the room full of bodies of men laying there in the ground either whining or crying out of pain. All this would have been avoided if they just decided to negotiate with you.

“Poor souls…”

…

“HAHAHAHAHA!” static cackling came from a ball on a table. It belongs to none other than the crown prince.

Cale looked at the prince like he had lost his mind. “...Why are you laughing?” Alberu looked up and stared at him through the crystal ball. Cale did not like that.

“Isn't it obvious?” He smirked, “clearly I think all of this is hilarious.”

Well no sh-t. Cale’s expression began to sour.

“Now, now, master Cale. Don’t look so distraught, [Name] is completely fine. In fact, I think she’s doing better than even I could have imagined,” he picture you beating the crap out of the kidnappers, much to his pleasure.

“Is that so…” Cale wanted to punch Alberu in the face. He just wanted to wipe that smirk off his mouth, even if it is a crime to do so. 

“Master Cale, if you would allow me?” Ron approached his master from the other side of the table.

“What is it, Ron?” Cale was as irked as he could be.

“I agree with the crowned prince,” Cale looked betrayed at Ron’s agreement on the situation. “Master Cale, [Name] is a talented individual. Surely, you should put some trust in her abilities.

“I’m also in support of this, [Name]’s prowess is no joke. She’ll make it home safe on her own,” Rosalyn commented.

“What the humans are saying is true,” Raon landed on Cale’s lap. “You can trust the Great Raon Miru’s judgment!”

“...” Cale closed his eyes. With all of this faith in you, he can’t ignore it.

“Fine.” He glared at Alberu. “But if she isn’t here by sunset, I'm sending Choi Han and Raon to get her.”

“That’s fine by me!”

With that, the call ended, and Alberu couldn’t stop from giggling at Cale’s worriedness for you.

“Ah… [Name], you’ve gotten yourself a worrywart as a husband.”

…

The sun had gone down a while ago, the birds went to rest, and the children had all gone to sleep on your shared bed. Yet, there was still no sign of you anywhere in sight.

Cale paced back and forth in the balcony, he did not enjoy worrying about someone's safety, much less yours.

“Master Cale.”

“Huh? Oh...Choi Han. Has there been any news?” He looked down and shook his head slowly. “I see… It’s getting late, you should head to sleep.”

“But, master Cale, who will–”

“I will.”

“...” Choi Han wanted to protest, yet he remained silent. He knew better than to argue with a stubborn man. “Yes, sir…” He left Cale with himself. 

Hearing a click from the door, Cale let out a frustrated sigh and scratched his head, annoyed at the situation at hand.

“...Where are you [Name]?” he whispered.

“I was gone for a day, and you missed me that much?”

“!” Cale twisted his body and faced the person that had spoken to him.

And it was none other than his lovely wife.

“Hi, Bo,” You smiled sweetly. “How are you?”

Cale sighted for what seemed like the 100th time this day. Only this time, it was out of relief. “I’m fine…” he said with a small smile.

“I’m glad…” You leaned and gave him a kiss on the check.

“Only there..?”

“Well, yes. I’m extremely hungry right now, and I want to eat,” with perfect timing, your stomach growled loudly.

“...” Cale’s eyebrow twitched at your response. He motioned his hand to look like a knife, and karate-chopped you in the head.

“OW–”

“I’ll go get Beacrox to prepare something for you. Wait here,” opening the door, he pointed at you. “And don’t. Move.” You giggled.

“Eye, eye, captain.”

With an approving nod he left in search of your meal.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism, @matchalyne, @minteaspoon, @dontknowhowtousethis, @valacz29, @rainalovesouya, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @lablog5, @htshbtcp, @purposefulwhale, @leylnnn, @ixchelhernandez4, @minteaspoon, @mx-unreality, @ntcc2605, @lapislasulat, @lunavixia, @thxmiss, @sumariii, @pspsps28, @holy-bells, @bloomingblueorchid. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family updates. Back to Lout Of Count's Family Master-List

Master-List

[the-travelling-witch]

these are horribly rushed and so bad but i saw everyone’s tags and immediately thought of this

the twst fandom when they take care of themselves vs when they don’t

So a very interesting phenomenon has been happening to me the past few weeks. In which Vil shows up in my thoughts to poke me about my bad posture. Like, I never thought Vil invading my thoughts would go like this 💀

At least it's in character for him XD

[reidsworld]

Beautiful Tragedy

Summary: Set in late 1800s London high society, Logan Howlett falls for a woman who is off limits, resulting in what can only be described as a beautiful tragedy. Based on this post by @shinyshayminflower

Paring: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: Heavy angst, forbidden love, arranged marriage, kinda ooc.

Word Count: 3.6k

Mars speaks… chat I cried while writing this. this turned out sm more AU like than I originally planned but we move. also reader ended up being british...

Part 2 | Masterlist

The grand estate your family owned was a sanctuary of opulence, yet it felt like a gilded cage. The late 1800s had bound you to a life of social expectations, where every decision was dictated by status and tradition. Amidst the grandeur of high society, you found solace in Logan Howlett— a man whose mutant abilities had kept him on the fringes of your world.

Logan, with his war-hardened past and retractable claws, was both an outsider and a confidant. Despite his loyalty and experience, his mutation made it impossible for him to be anything more than a distant companion.

Logan knew where he stood when it came to his place in society. He was more of a bodyguard than friend, someone to be kept at an arm's length yet close enough that it would be acceptable to use him as protection. That was how he met you, while in attendance at a ball hosted by your family, his sole purpose there was to act as a sort of security in case anyone came looking for trouble.

The lavish ballroom of the manor was alive with the clamour of high society. Chandeliers dripped with crystal droplets that cast a warm, shimmering light over the elegantly dressed guests. The air was thick with the fragrance of roses and lilacs, mingled with the faint scent of freshly polished wood and candle wax.

Logan stood near the entrance, his presence a stark contrast to the glittering splendour surrounding him. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, but his demeanour was understated, a professional reserve that set him apart from the guests. His role was clear: to remain unobtrusive, yet vigilant, a sentinel amidst the grandeur. His reputation as a skilled protector preceded him, but his mutant abilities were a closely guarded secret, known only to those who needed to know.

You, the lady of the evening, moved through the crowd with grace and composure. As the daughter of the host, you were the centre of attention, engaged in polite conversation and the ceremonial dance of high society. Your laughter was soft, your smiles carefully measured. Yet beneath the surface, there was a sense of confinement, a constraint imposed by the roles expected of you.

It was during one of these moments of enforced sociability that Logan first saw you. He had been scanning the room, his sharp eyes ever watchful for any signs of trouble. His gaze landed on you as you were approached by a particularly insistent suitor, whose eyes were filled with interest that seemed to linger a bit too long.

Logan’s instincts kicked in. He moved closer, positioning himself strategically within view but maintaining a respectful distance. He could sense the subtle shift in your demeanour, the polite but firm way you dismissed the suitor. It was a momentary flicker of discomfort, quickly masked by a practiced smile.

As the suitor finally retreated, you looked around, momentarily lost in thought. It was then that your eyes met Logan’s for the first time. The connection was brief but charged with an unspoken understanding. Logan’s gaze was steady and professional, but there was something more—an acknowledgment of the silent pressure you were under.

You excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to a quieter corner of the ballroom. Logan followed at a discreet distance, his curiosity piqued by the subtle display of restraint he had witnessed. It was clear that you were navigating a complex social minefield, and his role, though limited, allowed him a rare glimpse into your world.

“Do you need anything, Miss?” Logan’s voice was low, respectful, as he approached you in the secluded corner. His accent, thick and distinctly Canadian, cut through the formality of his tone, adding an unexpected warmth to his words. The question was more about offering a reprieve than an actual request for assistance. His tone was a gentle reminder of his presence, without overstepping the bounds of his role.

You looked up at him, surprised to find him so close. There was an air of authority about him, but it was tempered with a kindness that contrasted sharply with the stiffness of the evening’s festivities.

“Actually,” you replied, your voice soft but carrying a note of genuine curiosity, “I must say, I rather enjoy your accent. It’s quite refreshing to hear amidst all the clipped tones of London society.”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “Thank you, Miss. I’ve been told it’s quite distinctive.”

“It is,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something about it that’s rather charming. It makes you stand out, even in a room full of such grandeur.”

Logan’s gaze softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I suppose I’m not quite the typical guest at such events.”

“No, you’re not,” you agreed, “but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

There was a moment of silence, an unspoken connection forming between you. In that brief exchange, there was an understanding that transcended the formalities of the evening. Logan’s presence, though initially seen as a mere security detail, began to take on a different significance.

“I was merely taking a moment away from the crowd,” you say, as if you felt the need to explain your absence from being the lady of the party, the soft tone of your voice cut through the silence.

Logan nodded, respecting your need for space. “It’s quite a gatherin’ tonight. I’m sure it’s overwhelmin’.”

You smiled, a fleeting expression of relief crossing your features. “Yes, it is. The expectations can be quite… demanding.”

Logan’s gaze softened. “I understand. It’s my job to observe and protect, but I’ve seen enough of these gatherin’s to know that they come with their own set of obstacles.”

“And how do you find it, observing from the sidelines?”

Logan’s expression revealed a hint of a smile, though it was tinged with a touch of melancholy. “Sometimes, it’s a necessary role. It allows me to see things that others might miss. But it’s not without its own challenges.”

As the conversation drew to a close, you nodded to him, a gesture of gratitude and acknowledgment. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Howlett, Logan Howlett.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Howlett. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”

Logan inclined his head, a respectful smile on his lips. “Anytime, Miss. If you need anythin’, I’ll be nearby.”

With that, you returned to the ballroom, the weight of the evening’s obligations settling back upon you. But as you moved through the crowd once more, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this brief, genuine interaction with Logan had introduced a new, albeit unexpected, layer to your world.

Logan, meanwhile, watched you from a distance, his thoughts a mix of admiration and cautious intrigue. The evening had begun with clear boundaries and roles, but this fleeting encounter hinted at the possibility of something more—something that could challenge the carefully constructed walls of society and expectation.

As the night wore on, both of you carried the memory of that brief exchange, a subtle acknowledgment of a connection that neither fully understood but both felt deeply. It was a moment of genuine interaction in a sea of pretence, and it marked the beginning of something new for the both of you.

The first signs of affection between you and Logan since that night were subtle, yet profound. Stolen glances, brief touches, and shared smiles were the only expressions of a deep and forbidden love. On cool, moonlit evenings, you would find secluded corners of the manor, where the walls could not judge and the moonlight could only witness.

The manor's gardens were hushed under the blanket of twilight, the moon casting a silvery glow over the manicured lawns and fragrant blooms. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of jasmine. You wandered along the winding paths, seeking refuge from the stifling constraints of the evening’s festivities.

Logan had noticed your retreat and, with the quiet grace of someone who understood the need for solitude, followed at a discreet distance. His presence was a comforting shadow against the moonlit landscape, his footsteps barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You found yourself drawn to a secluded alcove, a small, hidden corner of the garden where the ivy-clad walls and the canopy of ancient trees offered a cocoon of privacy. You leaned against the stone balustrade, the coolness of the marble seeping through your silk gloves. The moonlight danced on the surface of the small pond before you, creating a shimmering mosaic.

Moments later, Logan emerged from the shadows, his eyes finding yours with an intensity that made your heart quicken. He had shed the formal demeanour of the evening, his posture relaxed yet alert, as if he too needed this quiet moment to escape the expectations placed upon him.

“I hoped I’d find you here,” he said softly, his accent carrying a soothing cadence in the stillness of the night.

You turned to him, a smile touching your lips despite the knot of anxiety in your chest. “I needed a moment away from everything.”

Logan stepped closer, the space between you closing as he approached with deliberate care. His gaze was tender, his eyes reflecting the moonlight with a warmth that belied the cool night. “You seemed lost in thought earlier. Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded, though the flicker of sadness in your eyes spoke volumes. You wracked your brain, trying to find the best way to speak without hurting him. You knew what your father expected of you when it came to your future, the guilt gnawed on you as you spoke, “just… trying to navigate the expectations placed upon me.”

Logan’s hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver up your spine. The contact was brief but electric, a silent exchange of the emotions that words could not fully capture. He looked at you with a mixture of admiration and concern, his fingers lingering near yours.

“I wish there was something more I could do, darlin’” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

You turned your hand to his, a gesture of both comfort and need. “Your presence alone means more than you know. It’s the only thing that feels real amidst all the pretence.”

Logan’s thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, his touch both reassuring and tender. “I wish things were different,” he murmured, his voice a hushed confession. “I wish I could be more than just a shadow in the background.”

A sigh escaped your lips, and you looked up at him with a mixture of longing and sorrow. “So do I. But the world is not as kind as we’d like it to be.”

In that moment, the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken desires. Logan’s eyes searched yours, and you saw a vulnerability in him that matched your own. He took a deep breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the space between you.

“I don’t want to just be a shadow,” he said, his voice resolute but soft. “I want to be something real in your life.”

Your heart ached with the intensity of his words. You stepped closer, your free hand resting gently on his arm. “You are, Logan.”

He gave you a pointed look, “I want to be more than just some secret lover, I want to be able to shout from the rooftops that you're mine.”

You sighed with a heavy heart, “I know, I want that too. But we’re bound by the constraints of a world that doesn’t understand us, doesn’t understand you.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, his eyes heavy with emotion. “Then let this night be ours, if only for a moment. Let the world fade away and let us be here, together, beneath the moon.”

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. “Just for tonight.”

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the love and longing that had been building between you, a quiet declaration of the feelings that had grown in the shadows of the manor. It was a poignant symphony of love and yearning, each touch a silent plea for something that could never fully come to be.

As his lips lingered against yours, the sweetness of the moment was tinged with a sharp edge of guilt and sorrow. You had always known that this love was a fleeting dream, a delicate thread woven in the shadows of your constrained existence. The reality of what was to come loomed over you like a dark cloud, a future you could not escape but deeply resented. Each stolen moment with Logan was both a treasure and a torment, a painful reminder of what you had been forced to forsake. In the moonlit stillness, as you nestled against him, the weight of what was inevitable pressed heavily on your heart. You could feel the crushing burden of a future you could neither change nor fully embrace, and what you had with Logan was a beautiful tragedy.

As you pulled away, both of you breathed deeply, savouring the preciousness of the moment. Logan’s arms encircled you, holding you close against his chest. You rested your head against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

In the tranquillity of the moonlit garden, the world outside ceased to exist. For a brief, fleeting moment, there were no societal constraints, no expectations—just the two of you, lost in the gentle embrace of the night.

“I love you,” Logan whispered, his voice a soft rumble against your ear.

You closed your eyes, a tear rolling down your cheek, your heart swelling with both joy and sorrow at the words you wish you could say. “I know.”

“What if we could just leave?” Logan suggested one night, his voice a hopeful murmur against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Your heart ached at the thought, your gaze darkening with a mix of longing and despair. “Leave? Logan, it’s not that simple. They would hunt us down. There’s no place for us in the world beyond these walls.”

“But have you ever imagined it? What it would be like if we were free to be together?” he asked, his tone filled with quiet yearning.

“Every single day,” you whispered, your fingers finding his and intertwining with them. “But we both know it’s impossible. Society will never allow it. To them, I’m nothing more than property, meant to be traded to the wealthiest suitor. And you… they see you as a weapon—a beast, not a man.”

Logan’s expression darkened with hurt, and suddenly, he was on his feet, his hands ripping themselves away from yours. “Is that what you think too?” His voice was tight, raw with pain. “Do you see me as just some animal, only here to protect you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “No, Logan, I would never—”

“Then what am I to you?” he cut you off, his frustration bubbling over. “If we can’t run, if there’s no future for us, then why are we still pretending? Pretending that this is enough, that we’re not just stuck in a nightmare we can’t wake up from?”

His anger pierced through you, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words that could make him understand. “Logan, that’s not what I meant—”

“Not what you meant?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Wasn’t it you who made me believe there was a chance? That if we just held on, we could make this work? Yet you never said you loved me, not once.”

Your breath hitched, tears spilling down your cheeks as you saw the anguish in his eyes. All you wanted was to reach out, to hold him, to promise that you would find a way to escape together. Logan’s heart ached with the urge to pull you into his arms, to tell you that everything would be okay—that you’d figure it out somehow. But he held himself back, his face a mask of cold indifference, waiting for you to break the unbearable silence.

“I can’t,” you choked out.

“Why not?” he demanded, his voice rising with desperation.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “If I say it, it will only make things worse. It will only hurt you more.”

“Why? Why can’t you just tell me?” he pressed, his voice thick with emotion.

“Because I am to be married!” you finally shouted, the words tearing from your throat.

“What?” His voice was low and cold, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I am to be married…” The words came out as a broken whisper, heavy with the weight of inevitability. You wished with every fibre of your being that you could take them back, that you’d never had to see the way his expression shattered into something you’d never seen before—something you never wanted to see again.

He turned away from you, and you hated yourself for not trying harder, for not fighting to make him stay, for not finding a way to make him listen.

The grand hall was adorned with flowers, the scent of roses heavy in the air as guests murmured in hushed tones, awaiting the ceremony. You stood in a small room adjacent to the hall, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The white dress, elegant and intricate, felt like a shroud—a symbol of everything you were about to lose.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet room. Your heart leaped in your chest as Logan stepped inside, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. He looked out of place in the lavish surroundings, a reminder of the life you truly wanted but could never have. You had asked to see him, to explain, though you weren’t sure if anything you said could ever make this right.

“Logan…” you began, your voice breaking as you turned to face him.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion. “Don’t say it. I just needed to see you before…”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stepped closer, shaking your head. “You have to understand—this wasn’t my choice. I never wanted this, Logan. My father… he arranged it all. He would never have allowed us to be together.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Because of what I am,” he said bitterly, his eyes dark with pain. “Because society sees me as some kind of monster.”

You closed the distance between you, reaching out to take his hands in yours. “You’re not a monster, Logan. You’ve never been a monster to me. But the nature of your abilities… they see it as something monstrous, something that could never belong in my world. My father, society—they would never accept it, never accept us.”

Logan looked down at your joined hands, his expression torn between anger and heartbreak. “So this is it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re just going to let them take you away from me?”

Your breath hitched, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I don’t have a choice,” you whispered, the words feeling like daggers in your chest. “But I need you to know… I love you, Logan. I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what happens.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, unspoken anguish. He pulled you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if he could somehow shield you from the world, from the fate that was tearing you apart. “I love you too,” he whispered against your hair, his voice thick with the pain of a thousand unspoken words.

You clung to him, the two of you standing there, lost in the moment, the weight of your impending separation hanging over you like a dark cloud. You knew that this was goodbye, that once you stepped out of that room, your life would be dreadfully bound to another, and the future you had dreamed of with Logan would be nothing more than a memory.

Logan slowly pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “I’ll be waiting for you” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you tried to memorise every detail of his face, every line, every mark. “I’ll always carry you with me, Logan. In my heart.”

He gave you one last, lingering look before stepping back, the distance between you growing wider with every second. He opened the door and left without another word, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the silence.

You stood there, the emptiness overwhelming as you tried to steady your breathing, trying to prepare yourself for the life you were about to enter—a life without him.

As the music began to play in the hall, signalling the start of the ceremony, you took one last, deep breath, and whispered into the empty room, “I love you, Logan.”

Mars speaks... (again) pt.2 anyone?

[veneerslipstick]

˚୨୧⋆yes, & i love you｡˚ ⋆

velvet x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff/slight angst

velvet, the pop star every girl strived to be, had met you at a meet-and-greet, recognized you from highschool and instantly made you her #2 — not necessarily her assistant but accompanied her on every shopping trip, dress rehearsal and personal meetings to discuss her opportunities for her career.

but you were quite more than just her dresser. from the heart melting tension to the pain you felt each time you were away from eachother turns more and more intense as time goes by.

you knew what you wanted, and by her longing gaze before fleeting to a show, you knew she knew too, but was she committed to her feelings as much as you?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

“what do you mean my cards been declined?”

“ma’am, i-“

“try it again!” velvet protested, waving her credit

card in the air and her other hand balling into a fist.

you stood there , holding shopping bags all up your

arms and smiling nervously at the cashier.

awkwardly, you walked over to velvet and put your

hand out, her hesitating for a second but placing the

card on your palm and crossing her arms ignorantly.

you inserted the card into the machine, waited

patiently and it beeped.

“perfect!” the cashier exclaimed, looking relieved

whilst looking at you , mouthing ‘thank you’. you

nodded at her and looked to velvet. she rolled her

eyes and picked up a few bags.

“yeah yeah, don’t look at me like that. let’s go.”

both of you headed out of Ralph Lauren and into the

parking lot, where you loaded the bags into the back

of the limo, and getting into the car. you sat next to

velvet , a couple inches away, and she melted into

the seat.

“UGH, that was exhausting.” velvet whined, her eyes

falling closed. you admired the purple, sparkly

eyeshadow she had on, which you yourself put on

her that morning. you suddenly remembered how

close she was to you and how you could smell her

strawberry cream perfume. you blinked and looked

down, giggling.

“girl, i don’t think you could last a REAL full day of

shopping. you’d collapse.” you joked. velvet opened

her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows with a small smile.

“what do you mean a REAL day of shopping?”

you smiled and crossed your legs.

“nine to five, shopping alllll day without stopping and

coming home with blisters and your makeup ruined.”

velvet scoffed and kicked you gently with her boot.

“i could so do that, don’t test me y/n.” she shot back,

leaning in slightly to intimidate you. you stuck your

tongue out at her.

“game on , 30$ says you’ll give up within the half

hour.”

velvet rolled her eyes and laid down on the seat,

crossing her legs.

“don’t even with that.” she murmured, leaving you

giggling to yourself.

after the car ride from one of vels assistant, you both

escorted and velvet was snappy with getting other

assistants to bring the bags inside. you felt awkward

whenever she did that, like you were useless in the

situation, and it was even worse when you weren’t

even the celebrity , so you had no right to be

standing there with nothing in your hands. but,

whatever velvet says goes, so you carried on.

entering her and veneers mansion, you took a

glimpse to the chandelier over head of you. no matter

how many times you’ve walked into this room, you’re

still taken aback by the beauty of the shining crystals

and the cream light that poured over it.

“do you want one? i can easily get one. everytime i

see you you’re eye eating that thing.” velvet intrudes,

pulling out her phone.”

“NO, no. i don’t want one, this one is just specifically

pretty. it’s nice to be able to walk into the room with

it glowing.” you continued to gaze over it, your eyes

shining like beads and your lips pulled into a soft

smile.

velvet watched you, staring at your eyes as she bit

the inside of her cheek. she felt a pang in her chest,

but couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. clearing her

throat, she turned around and headed for her

staircase.

“come, we can find places for the clothes then finally

pick out a nail colour for tomorrow.” she stated, you

weren’t slow to catch up to her.

now in her room of many rewards on shelves and

carpet flooring, velvet groaned when she saw all the

shopping bags on the floor.

“they could have AT LEAST put them down neatly.”

she grumbled. you noticed overtime that she was the

picky type, and not just rich picky, but things had to

be exactly right in her eyes or everything would go to

hell. you walked to the bags and started going

through the clothes, sorting between color , fabrics,

tops and bottoms. after sorting, you began putting

away everything, and velvet was right at your side.

“for the polish, i was thinking arctic blue that’s

marble with light blue, and maybe light glitter? no

wait that’s stupid..” she speaks as you fold and hang

clothing on hangers in her walk in closet, right at

your hip and throwing her hands in your face.

sometimes you think she forgets how comfortable

she is around you.

“what’s your favourite color again?” she asks out of

the blue.

“f/c.” you mumble.

she stares at you for a moment,

not saying anything and then groaning, swatting

clothes out of your hands and pulling you by the

wrist out of the closet. “it’s like talking to a wall.” she

mumbles, acting all pissy, but in reality she just

wanted your attention.

you both sit on her king sized bed, her laying down

on the bed on her back, crossing her legs (she does

this a lot, you never knew why) and looking at her

nails. she continues to ramble about polish and how

it’ll match her performance outfit, then how she

hated the outfit, and how she hated the smell of

detergent, then.. you got a little lost. you you look

down at her, one leg tucked under you and your hand

down on the mattress holding yourself up.

“vel,” you started and she stopped. “what?”

“take a second girl. you’ve been pent up about

this nonstop , just breathe.” you grinned and her

expression softened slightly. her shoulders loosened

up and you noticed her jaw stopped flexing. she

opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then

opened again; “if i asked you to do something

stupid , what would you say?”

you scanned her eyes. “yes. i would say yes

everytime.”

your expression was so serious it

frightened her for a moment. you remembered to

relax and smiled a little. “well, cause, it’s hard to say

no to a celebrity. or whatever.” you bettered , velvet

rolling her eyes in exaggeration.

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“oh are you? that’s shocking.”

“hm, yeah, jackass.”

“you adore me though.”

silence. she stared at you with her beady , deep blue

eyes. they were similar to spears, threatening to

attack and not being able to look away. she laid on

the bed , her green curls and locks spread on the

satin sheets like a painting. if only it were a painting,

she couldn’t have looked more beautiful.

“y/n,” she whispered , a smile pulling at the corner of

her mouth. you hummed in response, her legs falling

to the side that brushed your arm. her eyelids hung

low as she looked at you. a magnet in your stomach

pulled you closer to her,

and you let it.

you leaned down to her, hearing her breath hitch in

her throat and her lips parting the further you leaned

down. but her headed to started to shake, her eyes

fell closed and her breathing got shaky.

“no.. no, no no” she whispered , sitting up and

backing away. you panicked for a moment and

leaned away from her , raising your hands.

“h-hey, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you

uncomfortable,” you spat out and she still shook her

head.

“this.., this can’t happen. get out please.” she

murmured.

you froze, your expression completely falling. “what?”

“i said get out.” she snapped , pointing to the door,

her eyes red and hot and you wondered what her

tears looked like oh you wondered how her tears felt ,

“okay.” you whispered with a voice crack, feeling a

lump in your throat and getting up from her bed. you

turned and headed out her door, closing it slowly and

feeling your stomach twist and churn as you heard

the door click.

everything had felt right, why had she acted like it

was so out of the blue? did you misunderstand? no,

you couldn’t have. that look in her eye. the contact,

the way she seemed to have pulled your soul from

your throat.

ohhh, she had you. had you by the strings.

eyes watering, you found your way out of the house

and went somewhere. you didn’t really know where.

anywhere was nowhere without her.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊

the next day…

yes, you had eventually made it home. after a long

night of contemplating and trying to tear the pit out

of your stomach, you fell asleep on your couch at

4am. you decided to head to velvet and veneers

dressing room early. usually you went with velvet, but

you decided there was no point. there you prepped

their makeup and hair products , anything to keep

yourself busy. it wasn’t your job, it was crimps, but

you couldn’t care less. sometimes you felt like you

did more than her.

as you were laying out makeup brushes, eyes half

open from exhaustion, you heard the door knob

rattling. you had locked the door without realizing it,

so you went to open it. you were then face to face

with a messy up-do velvet with her casual gold mini

skirt and gold top that was paired with pearl earrings

and a white pendant. you felt that churn in your

stomach that came as a familiar feeling. you forced a

smile and opened the door wide open for her.

“good morning vel,” you murmured, her walking in

and scanning the room.

“you didn’t have to.. do any of that. you aren’t

supposed to.” she says almost defensively, putting

her purse down and avoiding eye contact. leaning

against the wall with your hands in your pockets, you

gazed at her. “i didn’t think it mattered.” you replied

with a tone you didn’t recognize.

she didn’t respond, only cleared her throat and

pulled the elastic out of her hair, her loose, flowing

hair falling over her shoulders. you noticed her nails,

but didn’t catch a glimpse of what she did with them.

“what uh…” you started, feeling a lump forming in

your throat. you tried to gulp it down and she looked

at you.

“what color did you do your nails?” you asked. she

looked down at them, seeing her face freeze.

“f/c. the marble.. i was talking about.”

you felt like she kicked you in the stomach. you

shook your head and stood straight.

“velvet. what…what is this? cmon, please.” you

looked her in the eye as your voice broke. you could

tell she was trying to hide an emotion, by the way her

eyebrows twitched and her eyes darted from wall to

wall.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. stop, y/n.”

she said monotonously, sitting down in her vanity

chair and easing a brush through her hair.

“wanna pass me a claw clip?” her tone changed, like

she was completely over it.

you watched her through the mirror, hating how you

felt like a neglected dog. you didn’t bite.

“fine. then i’ll.. i’ll go. crimp will be here soon.” you

picked up your jacket and opened the door.

“no.. no y/n don’t go, don’t go,” she looked panicked

and got up rushing to you , grabbing onto the sleeve

of your jacket. she let go almost instantly. you stood

there, looking at her with your head turned, and you

closed the door, not looking away from her.

“then talk to me.”

“i-i don’t, this isn’t.. good. for my image. for all of

them. i can’t have this, it would cause a wreck in the

media. it won’t work..” she stood so close to you, her

breathing shaky. you furrowed your eyebrows

slightly. it started to click, or so you thought.

“oh. oh, what because your fame is more important

than your feelings? is that it? velvet. you’re better

than this. don’t choose people who love you by first

impression over someone who would walk to the

ends of the earth for—“ she shook her head which

cut you off.

“no, that’s not..” her eyes began to glisten, trying to

fight her worst fear.

“i wish you were a boy.”

your blood ran cold. as if things couldn’t get any

worse, she pulls that card. you stood there like an

idiot; when you should’ve walked away there and

then. you couldn’t get yourself to.

“oh.” you couldn’t tell if you genuinely spoke or if it

was in your head. she batted her eyelashes at you

and it was similar to knives being plummeted in your

throat.

“this is just how it’s supposed to be. you’re supposed

to help me with clothes and makeup and be my

fashion designer , i just do what im—“

“i could make you feel more than any man ever

could. you know that.” you became slightly

aggravated. you knew she ddint actually want this,

and hell if you did. she turned around and you took

her wrist gently, stepping towards her.

“don’t run from this.”

“y/n, please,”

“we’re meant to be girls together, just try—“

“don’t push this, y/n, y/n i cant —“

“i wasn’t lying.” you said disconnectedly. she looked

back at you.

“if you ever asked me to do something crazy. i’d say

yes. if you asked me to climb mount Everest in a

dress, i’d say yes. if you asked me to be with you,”

you glided your hand down her arm and took her

hand.

“i’d say yes, and i love you.” you could feel the

magnet again, threatening to collapse out of

exhaustion.

“…don’t, don’t…” velvet found herself leaning towards

you with tears smudged at her waterline. and she

kissed you. and she kissed you with a sigh, with a

broken promise. a single tear from her fell to your

cheek, and somehow that pulled you closer together.

you broke apart, looking into eachother eyes, and

didn’t notice your hands squeezing with intertwined

fingers. you rose her hand up and pushed it against

her chest.

“figure yourself out first. you can’t rip my heart out

then eat it.” your own words hurt to say, but you

knew if things would work out, both of you needed

this.

she looked hurt, keeping her hand to her chest even

when you pulled yours away. velvet wiped her face

and cleared her throat. “okay.”

the door swung open.

“god damn janitors, jesus chr.. i just fell on my ass,

vel. no one knows how to dry floors apparently.”

veneer burger in whining , crimp following behind

him. you looked at him, then back at velvet.

who was staring at her nails.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　

holy poop that took longer than it should’ve to write.. i’m sorry friends school and work is stressful and i’m trying to find time to work on this stuff 😞 anyway i loved writing this sm i think i captured velvets crudeness and soft side pretty well lolz, i’ll rewrite a happy ending if a lot of u want one bc i have so much tooth rotting fluff ideas for her 💗💗 anywayyyy im getting a couple of requests so ill make sure to get to them <3 TYSM FOR TJE SUPPORT AHAIN ILY ALL

[sirenpearldust]

A kiss with Death - part two

series masterlist ⋆ part one

Pair: Azriel x Hewn City! Reader

Word Count: 3.719

Warnings: mentions of violence, r*pe (only mentioned), killing, death, cursing, “delusional” Azriel, abuse against kids (only mentioned), complicated feelings towards mating bond

“So, I have a mate?”

“Yes,” 

“And I will kill him?”

“Yeah, basically,” replied Imani, her tone tinged with sadness as she looked up from the crystal ball. The violet light from the crystal ball cast a reflection on her face.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Camilla remarked, nonchalantly munching on dried meat.

“And he’s the shadowsinger too,” Estella added, her eyes unable to look away from the crystal ball that still depicted him and you, the scene replaying over and over. Her expression was a mix of pity for you and anger directed at him for being your mate, making it difficult to read her true feelings.

“Well, at least he’s handsome and tall,” you stated, eliciting laughter from the group. The room was warm, but your heart felt gripped by a cold hand, racing uncontrollably. You couldn't tell if it was because you had discovered he was your mate or because he had to die. You loathed him with a passion, but the conflicting reality was that he was your damn mate. 

“Now, we need to be cautious when dealing with the scum from Velaris. If he and the High Lord catch wind of what’s going on... He can’t be near you, or the bond might snap,” Stella cautioned.

"Well, at least we're in the same boat," Camilla said casually, still munching on the meat as she patted you on the shoulder.

"You tried killing your fiancé. She's killing her mate. That's different, you dumb idiot," Estella chided, giving Camilla a light slap on the back of her head. 

"Stella, that hurt."

"Well, then don't be stupid," Stella snapped back.

As they continued to argue, Imani shook her head, and you found it difficult to process this new revelation. The realization left you feeling queasy. Glancing into the crystal ball and catching a glimpse of him, seeing both of you happy together, made you question why would you even let him near you. 

Was a bond really that strong? 

Had something transpired between you two? 

Why did Camilla help you? Scratch that! What a dumb question. Camilla would always help you kill someone - even mates. She abhorred them immensly.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, your heart heavy as you watched him bleed. Tears welled up, and you felt sick to your stomach. You couldn’t look away from his face. He still gazed at you with love in his eyes, though the light in them seemed to dim with each passing second.

He kept saying something to you, but his words were muffled and his lips blurred as the vision faltered.

Imani took hold of your hand, "Perhaps there's a reason. Maybe you don't have to end his life. You can alter fate." 

Her smile was reassuring. "Perhaps the crystal ball showed us the vision so we could prevent it."

"Yeah, fates change, and perhaps you have a role in that too," Estella shrugged.

"You saw me in the vision too. Maybe I'm meant to help you prevent kill—" Camilla attempted to say.

"You would support her, not stop her, you witch," Stella huffed.

"Damn, you're right, and I did," she proudly pointed at the crystal ball. She wasn't phased; you knew she cared. Her only aim was to make you laugh, and it worked as you smiled slightly.

Rubbing your hand over your face, you sighed heavily, a frown etching your features. "Let's go. We've got work to do."

• •

Walking into the cold night, small fae lights scatered across the city illuminated the way to your destination for the four of you. The darkness and chill sent shivers down your spine, you regretted not dressing warmer. Stella rubbed her hands over her arms as her teeth chattered. 

"It's freezing. Damn, I should have dressed better," she cursed. Cam and Imani chuckled softly, while you managed only a faint smile in response. 

Hewn city was unsightly, to say the least. The dim light didn't alleviate the sight, instead it highlighted its unattractive aesthetic. The area where you and your friends were taken was particularly dark, with only occasional glimpses of light penetrating the neighborhoods you all inhabited.

You and your friends heard of the world above, the different courts, the continent, the magical stories. You've heard how happiness and love supposedly filled the air.

When you were younger you had gathered as kids around the merchants, to listen to the stories, them recounting everything that happened up there. 

They spoke of the green fields, the summer breeze, the blazing sun on hot summer days and the snow-covered fields in the winter court. 

They described magical libraries accessible to people from all walks of life; the poor, rich, priestesses, females.

Every month, they returned with different foods and snacks from the various courts, such as the Pear and brown butter strudel from autumn and the pistachio ice cream and butter pecan from winter, showcasing you all the diverse culinary enjoyed above ground.

They also displayed the colorful garments worn in different courts, offering glimpses of the vibrant, varied clothing thriving beyond the confines of the Hewn City. 

You used to dream about the dresses they described at night. You still remember lying in bed at 18, hearing the distant sounds of the ball echoing through the city, imagining yourself dancing with a charming male who would rescue you from your family.

You recall the shimmering fabrics worn by females during winter festivities, the luxurious velvet garments people wore in Velaris during the solstice, and the intricate jewelry crafted in Hewn City, kept hidden from your people in fear of theft and only presented and sold outside its borders.

Above ground, the world was colorful and lively in contrast to the life the citizens of Hewn city had to endure. Hewn City was cold and dark, with only the rich and the nobility granted access to places touched by the sun and the privilege of entering Velaris. 

However, even they faced limitations on where they could go and how often they were allowed above ground and who even sold to them.

No one liked the High Lord. He had trapped you all down here under this mountain to fend and fight for yourselves. Everyone agreed that he and his goons were nothing but hypocrites. Supposedly welcoming of all but the citizens of the Hewn City and Illyria. This sadly included your mate too.

People down here were indeed cruel, but being nice and naive wouldn't save you, it would only get you used and killed or worse sold. You all had already been dealt different kinds of bad cards, but being sold into slavery was undoubtedly the worst of them all.

Trying to survive, you and your friends lived together in your house.

Your group consisted of you four girls: Estella, Imani, Camilla, and yourself.

Camilla, the daughter of Lord Thanatos, who was a close friend of Lord Keir. She was the one who had the ties to the aristocrats. Rejecting multiple suitors, almost killing her last fiancé and generally causing trouble for her father, it was a wonder how she still lived.

Despite her efforts to talk to him and initiate change for the people, she was reminded of her place as a women in this society.

She knew that running away wasn't an option, as her father would likely lock her in her room until they found someone who was willing enough to handle her. 

He barely tolerated her coming and going and how she would hang out with you all as if you were beneath her.

She still joined you and the other two, to have somewhat of an escape, somewhere she could feel comfortable. 

Estella joined you for the same reason; she was alone and seeking safety. She had a mysterious aura around herself and aside from her disdain for men and love for teasing Camilla, not much was known about her. Despite her quiet demeanor, Estella had a tendency to surprise you. Get too close, and you risked losing your eyes to her sharp nails—an experience you had witnessed firsthand.

Centuries ago, Imani healed your injuries with her witch powers, binding you to her ever since. Her motherly instincts led her to „adopt“ the three of you, completing the last piece of your puzzle. She only practices her powers at home, for if they were ever discovered, you would all be condemned to the dungeons to face the merciless beasts.

You lived good, well had lived a pleasant life. Your family, once part of the upper class, fell from grace a century ago, with your family of six meeting an untimely demise, you the only survivor.

It was deemed an accidental death, but deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Since then, you've been living with Imani and Estella in the house left to you by your parents. Without a father or younger brothers to control you, and lacking a husband, you were deemed shameless for not conforming to higher society.

Offers from men came left and right not only to get your inheritance but also your estate and body.

• •

After only a few steps, you entered the warmth of the bar. The sound of piano music and laughter filled the air. The customers were already drunk, the booths occupied by young soldiers enjoying their free time and chatting with the bartender.

Your eyes roamed the bar, searching for him. It would have been easier if everyone didn't have dark hair and was dressed in black down here.

"Oi, fuckface, there you are!" Cam yelled across the bar.

"Fucking quiet down," you hissed.

Attracting attention was never smart. Thankfully, people only glanced for a second before turning back to their conversations. 

Black eyes met yours as he walked toward you, clad in the black leathers of the Darkbringer Legion. 

"I wonder how you made it to 500 years and survived. How hasn’t anyone killed you yet?"

Calix approached, grinning slyly.

"I often have the urge," you said, grinning back.

"I'm too cute to be killed," Cam huffed, tossing a strand of her honey-blond hair back.

"I keep her on a leash," Stella grinned, giving Cam a playful shove.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Stella, as if—" Cam retorted.

"Oh god, these two will never stop," Kieran remarked as he approached.

"What are they arguing about now?"

"Everything and anything," you replied wearily.

"They never quit," Imani sighed, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"You act like you don't enjoy it," you teased with a smirk, she only grinned.

"So, how has soldier life been treating you?" Imani asked, her eyes sparkling like stars. Her crush on him couldn't have been more obvious, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Let's get to our table before Cam decides to kill Calix next to merchants over there," you said, pointing behind you at Cam, who was gripping Calix by the neck. The group was already eyeing them, probably thinking of harvesting his organs.

Kieran was too immersed in Imani's eyes to hear what you said. You could only look at them, aching to be that in love.  You couldn't shake the longing for the love you'd felt in the vision. You felt fuzzy and warm remembering Azriel's eyes, the way he looked at you with so much affection, the way his large hands held you, how in love you both seemed. You could only hope to feel that way again, even though a nagging thought reminded you he was basically your enemy.

Seconds passed before your group gathered and went to a shadowy corner at the end of the bar. You sat next to Kieran, feeling the others close in around you, their eyes focused intently on Kieran. From the table, you had a clear view of every possible exit and patron. Most patrons were drunk enough not to notice your table or smart enough to stay away.

"So, what have you guys got?" Stella asked, snacking on some chips.

"Good news and bad news," Calix replied, putting his arm around Camilla's chair, subtly pulling her closer to him.

Kieran took a sip of his drink, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he grinned.

"Your father has done it," he said with a smirk. Camilla only raised her brow.

"He arrested your piece of shit ex-fiancé. He's been in the dungeons for a few days."

Cam snickered as she flicked her caramel blonde hair behind her back, unintentionally hitting Calix square in the face. His eyes narrowed before he retaliated by pinching her side. She jumped with a yelp, shooting him a glare. 

"Children, concentrate!" you exclaimed. 

Those two could never sit still, but you found yourself envious of their playful dynamic. Was your relationship with your mate similar, or was it more like Imani's and Kieran's—soft, loving, and peaceful?

Kieran continued, “He was caught in bed with Lord Radbrick’s wife - by none other than, you guessed it, Lord Radbrick himself.” 

Lord Radbrick, a close companion of Camilla's father, Lord Thanatos, was understandably furious.

It was rather surprising that Randell would pursue Lady Radbrick at all. As far as you knew, he typically avoided older women whom he considered “used” or “damaged goods.”

"I knew he was stupid, but I never knew he was this damn dumb," Cam shook her head in disbelief.

"I never knew he liked her. Isn't she, like, really old?"

"Well, she's pregnant."

At that, Cam fell out of her chair, bumping into Calix, while you snorted your drink out of your nose. Imani coughed, her drink going down the wrong way and Stella laughed out loud. 

"Unbelievable!" you laughed, wiping the tears away.

After a while the atmosphere calmed down, it got tense as Kieran glanced at Calix, who placed a file on the table with a serious expression.

You opened the file, reading his details aloud. Thanks to the magical bubble Stella had put up, no one outside your group could overhear your conversation.

"He is the new target you have to take care of," Calix said gravely.

The man's file was full of crimes, indicating he was a more challenging criminal to catch than the others - involved in trafficking, robbery, and rape, everything under Velaris.

"I can't believe this," you said with anger evident in your voice. 

"He seems to be an upstanding citizen," Stella added sarcastically. 

His file revealed he was a well known predator, with multiple victims, mostly young children - girls and boys alike - especially in the more rundown areas of Hewn City. He had fled from Velaris, and the authorities had not been able to catch him—or, in other words, they did not care enough to save our children from him.

"He was last seen at Stronghold's Inn," Calix said, his voice low. "He's been staying in one of their rooms for two days. Stronghold's daughter mentioned he hasn't done anything yet, but he's been lurking around the young women serving there. She said he tried to touch a waitress, but the cook intervened before it went any further." Calix rotated his ring around his pointy finger, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

"I hate people from Velaris. They should perish and stop letting their degenerates enter our city," Camilla snarled, her red eyes locking onto yours.

"Didn't you know we're less worthy of our High Lord?" you retorted, laughter laced with bitterness. 

"We should be grateful we're even allowed to live," Imani quoted the High Lord.

"I will never forget why we started taking care of the problems in the city! He is the root of all evil! Him and Keir!" Kieran's eyes blazed with fury.

"At least we should be proud we managed to get rid of some problems" Stella sneered, her jaw tight with anger. "We can't expect them to help us, not even The Morrigan."

"That bitch should have been dead anyway. I thought if she went to Velaris, she would be able to help us, but no, she made it even worse," Camilla spat, her voice dripping with contempt.

You all knew what she was talking about. Laws had changed after Morrigan went to Velaris and the High Lord’s son Rhysand came into power. They laws got stricter and the problems bigger, you could only assume they were out to punish the whole city for what had been done to her.

Morrigan was a greedy and prideful person, her demand for diamonds and rubies only grew stronger over the years. The number of people dying in the mines increased tenfold; mothers lost their sons, children their fathers, wives their husbands...

During Amarantha's reign, times were even worse - a period you’d like to forget if you could. It was the most brutal time, marked by a high rise in famine, crime, and a horrifying rise in cannibalism. Half of the population had already been slain by Amarantha, but the misfortunes didn't end there. Degenerates had overrun the city, and your group took it upon yourselves to make it safer.

You'd been eliminating threats left and right, yet it felt like more criminals kept appearing out of nowhere.

• •

Slipping on the blood-covered floor wasn’t on your agenda today, it covered your skin in a sticky, warm coat. It felt disgusting. 

You were brutal today, maybe you'd been too harsh, but the thrill of his fear, his powerlessness - it fed something deep within you, it felt like justice. You wanted him to feel how his victims had felt. 

A few scratches and a bruised cheek were all you had to show from his pitiful resistance.

With a grim smile, you lifted his head from the floor, one less threat loomed over your people.

He should have been glad it was you if Camilla had pursued him instead, he might have been left alive but with missing limbs. 

You preferred methods involving torture and hand-to-hand combat for dealing with your targets. Occasionally, you resorted to quick measures or utilised your abilities, which still required further refinement. 

Your abilities were known as dream manipulation, similar to that of the Daemati; you could not only delve into their minds, read their thoughts but also bent them to your will. With this you would ensnare them in dreamscapes, trapping them indefinitely in their worst nightmares, possibly to never awaken again.

You had to stand up Imani would soon arrive to clean up the mess you had left behind. Exhausted you realised everything would need to be replaced, cleaned, and the area sanitized.

You made a note to yourself that you definitely needed to work on finishing your work faster and more efficiently.

• •

Azriel had been sleeping more and more the recent days, yet he felt even more exhausted than usual. He struggled through training, unable to concentrate fully. His shadows, typically calm, now enveloped him more protectively than ever before, almost completely concealing his body. Others could barely see or only caught glimpses of Azriel's face amidst the shadows.

Despite this, he didn't mind; he was consumed by obsession. He had seen her, his mate; he was sure of it. He had been dreaming of her, but he could never see her face, or at least he couldn't remember it upon waking. He remembered her soft skin against his scarred and rough hands, her gentle touches, her scent, and the way their heartbeats seemed to synchronize, making him feel whole.

Even days later, he could still feel the warmth of those kisses on his skin. He was reeling while trying to find her again, the feeling she gave him, he felt above the world with her, a high he never wanted to loose, she made him feel safe and fuzzy.

The lack of sleep has drained him of his energy, his attention span had also been wavering, affecting his ability to listen to anything being said to him. 

The others of course had been noticing, but Azriel would never talk about what had been bothering him. 

It was his own yearning for a partner, his own delusion, his secret. Nobody should know about her until he found her or was certain she existed.

Flying through Velaris he was trying to look for her, trying to find her scent. Thoughts of her consumed his day, his shadows in a frenzy themselves. He thought of her day and night. 

His emotions were high and low, he was happy one day and sad the other. He wanted to finally hold her, shower her in his love, fly with her, love her, he was craving her. His feelings and thoughts weren’t logical, he knew that, because he didn’t know her yet but he was convinced she could only be perfect. 

• •

30 minutes after Dinner Rhys called him into his office.

"There had been multiple reports from Keir. People have been disappearing - high officials, merchants, soldiers, and others. Find out where they've been going or if they are still alive," he instructed.  Azriel nodded silently, going towards the door. 

"Az, please talk to us if you’re having any issues. We are your brothers," Rhys urged, concern etched on his face.

Azriel stopped mid-step before walking out, then turned around. He managed a small smile at Rhys. "There’s nothing wrong. I'm good. I’ve just been busy," he said softly.

Rhys wasn’t buying it. His eyes were tired, his face pale, and he hadn’t shaved in a long time. His black hair was unkempt, and his shadows moved about him more protectively. Rhys knew he shouldn't assign Azriel to any missions, but Azriel had insisted on working.

• •

He needed to concentrate, otherwise, this situation could escalate further with Keir. If those involved aligned themselves to rebel or simply disappeared, it could cause trouble. He didn't care much if they were dead, his priority was finding the culprit responsible if harm had come to them.

The air in Hewn City reeked of dirt and decay, like a rotting washcloth, but Azriel's nose would quickly adjust. The Court of Nightmares lived up to its name; it was darker than the nights in Illyria, buried underneath Velaris with so few lights illuminating the unbuilt and filthy streets. 

Azriel knew this area well enough to pinpoint where most incidents occurred.

Entering Stronghold's Inn, Azriel's shadows swirled in a frenzy throughout the tavern before fixating on a female. His eyes widened as he caught her scent.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @fieldofdaisiies

A Kiss with Death - Taglist: @bubybubsters @fieldofdaisiies @sidthedollface2 @rcarbo1 @megwan @duhgurl @lilah-asteria

[a-court-of-mischief-and-madness]

Midnight revelations

Part 1 ----------- Part 2

Eris Vanserra x rhysand sister reader!

Summary: rhysand's sister has always felt lonely considering all the demons and skeletons from her past make her heart ice cold. What happens when she meets someone who has enough fire to warm her heart and unravel her?

Note: hi everyone this is my first time ever posting a story, I have always been addicted to writing but I have never publicly showcased my work. Therefore I urge you all to enjoy this. Feel free to leave a comment about what you think :)

♧------------------------------------------------------------♧

You clutched the fabric of your dress, a breathtaking gown that shimmered with every subtle movement. The deep, royal blue material cascaded down to the floor in luxurious folds, catching the light and creating a mesmerizing array of sparkling reflections that mimicked the starry night sky. The bodice was meticulously crafted, hugging your curves with an almost ethereal grace. Tiny, delicate crystals were sewn into the fabric, forming intricate patterns that danced along the neckline and down the fitted sleeves. These sleeves, adorned with intricate floral patterns, exposed just a hint of skin, creating an alluring contrast against the otherwise modest design.

The slit of the dress was daring, extending provocatively up to your upper thigh. With each step, it revealed a tantalizing glimpse of your leg, adding an element of sensuality to the otherwise elegant ensemble. The cool night air whispered against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the chill, you felt a surge of confidence wearing the dress, its beauty giving you a sense of empowerment.

The Night Court had always been your sanctuary, a haven with your brother Rhysand and his mate, Feyre, after the harrowing events under the mountain. You silently cursed Amarantha for ever laying her hands on him, for the ball of trauma she had inflicted, now masked by his composed exterior. Tonight was a reunion for all the High Lords and their families, celebrating Amarantha's defeat. The meeting was to take place in the Court of Nightmares, a place you dreaded—not only because of Keir, but also because of the lecherous behavior prevalent there. Everyone had to mentally prepare to ensure nothing went wrong. You hated that daily routine of donning a cold mask, a habit that began over a hundred years ago...

"Kill the woman first," Tamlin's father barked, his voice cold and merciless.

"No, please, no. I'm begging you, please don't," you pleaded, your throat raw from weeping. Blood coated your arms and legs, seeping from the wounds on your back where the High Lord of the Spring Court had tried to clip your wings. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the terror you felt for your mother. Your wings had vanished when he tried, baffling him and fueling his rage. In his anger, he slapped you, the sting of it radiating from your cheek.

"It's okay, please do it to me but let her go," your mother sobbed, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. You tried to protest, but your mouth was clamped shut by some unseen force, preventing you from speaking or moving. You were helpless, forced to watch as the nightmare unfolded before you.

The High Lord of the Spring Court approached your mother with a knife, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light. Your mother looked at you with tear-filled eyes, her face etched with sorrow and resignation. "I love you," she mouthed, her lips trembling.

You screamed against the spell that held you, your heart shattering with every step he took. The knife glinted in the light, each reflection a dagger to your soul. He reached your mother, and without hesitation, he slashed her neck. Blood spurted from the wound, staining the ground crimson. Your mother crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide with shock and pain.

A guttural scream tore from your throat, louder and more primal than any sound you had ever made. It broke the spell that bound you, and Tamlin and his father staggered back, their faces painted with agony and shock. You rushed to your mother's side, falling to your knees beside her lifeless body.

"Mother, no," you sobbed, cradling her head in your hands. Blood seeped between your fingers, warm and sticky. Her eyes, once so full of life and love, were now empty and glassy. You rocked back and forth, your cries echoing through the cold, heartless chamber. The world around you seemed to blur and fade, your vision clouded by tears.

Suddenly, a familiar presence enveloped you, a comforting darkness that wrapped around your soul. Your brother Rhysand appeared, his power crackling in the air, but it was too late. The light in your mother’s eyes had already faded, her body growing cold in your arms. Rhysand's eyes widened with horror as he took in the scene, his rage palpable.

"She’s gone," you whispered, your voice broken and hollow. "She’s really gone."

Rhysand knelt beside you, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with grief. "I’m so, so sorry."

The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that consumed your entire being. You clung to your mother’s lifeless form, your sobs echoing in the silence. The room around you seemed to spin, the walls closing in as darkness began to creep into your vision.

And then, everything went black.

When you awoke, the memory of your mother’s death was etched into your mind, a scar that would never heal. The image of her lifeless body, the blood, the pain, all of it haunted you. It was a nightmare that you relived over and over, a wound that time would never mend.

Tears sprang to your eyes, but you held them in. "Are you all right?" Azriel asked, his voice soft but filled with concern. His eyes searched yours, a hint of worry flickering in their depths. You smiled, stood from your seat, and quickly brushed away invisible stains on your dress, avoiding eye contact. "If you need to talk, I'm here, you know," Azriel spoke softly. You glanced up at him. Azriel wore a tunic of deep, rich purple that seemed to complement his dark, mysterious aura perfectly. The fabric clung to his muscular frame in all the right places, accentuating his strength and grace. It was clear that every detail of his outfit had been carefully chosen, from the intricate stitching along the seams to the subtle shimmer of the fabric in the candlelight.

The tunic was adorned with subtle embroidery, delicate patterns that seemed to dance along the fabric like shadows in the moonlight. The designs were understated yet elegant, adding a touch of sophistication to Azriel's otherwise simple attire.

His hair was freshly combed, the strands falling in dark waves around his face. Each lock seemed to catch the light, creating a halo of darkness that framed his chiseled features. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, a sense of power and authority that was impossible to ignore."You look handsome tonight, Shadowsinger," you said with a deflecting grin. He sighed, not appreciating the change of subject.

Just then as you stood there, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, a gentle hand touched you from behind .You turned and your heart swelled with warmth as you beheld Feyre, her eyes sparkling with affection and admiration. She wore a gown as resplendent as your own, adorned with jewels that seemed to catch the light and reflect it back in a dazzling display of beauty.

"Feyre," you breathed, a smile spreading across your lips. Her presence was like a balm to your soul, a reminder that you were not alone in this world."You look stunning," Feyre said, her voice soft and full of sincerity. She reached out, taking your hands in hers, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Truly, you take my breath away."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, moved by her words and the genuine love that shone in her gaze. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "You look absolutely radiant yourself."

Feyre's smile widened, and she pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as if she never wanted to let go. The scent of her hair, mingled with the subtle perfume of flowers, enveloped you in a sense of comfort and belonging.

"I'm so glad you're here," Feyre murmured against your hair, her voice filled with emotion. "Tonight is a celebration of freedom, of hope, of new beginnings. And I couldn't imagine sharing it with anyone else."

You squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of gratitude and love for this woman who had become not just a friend, but a sister to you. "I'm glad to be here too," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill over. "With you, by my side, I feel like I can face anything."

Feyre pulled back, her eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "You're stronger than you know," she said, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "And tonight, we'll show the world just how powerful you truly are."

As you shared a tender moment with Feyre, a familiar presence approached from behind. You turned to find Rhysand standing there, his eyes shining with pride and love. His gaze swept over you, taking in every detail of your gown with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"Wow," he breathed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips at his words, feeling a swell of warmth in your chest at his sincere praise. Rhysand had always been a pillar of strength and support, and his approval meant more to you than words could express.

"Thank you, Rhys," you replied, your voice soft but filled with gratitude. "It means the world to me."

Rhysand stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, yet electric, sending a shiver down your spine. "You deserve all the happiness in the world," he murmured, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "And tonight, I hope you find it."

"I'm just grateful to have you both by my side," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "You and Feyre mean everything to me."

Rhysand smiled, a soft, affectionate smile that reached his eyes. "We'll always be here for you," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "No matter what" you gave him a small smile.

"I suppose Nesta and Cassian won't be joining us tonight," Rhysand remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Feyre chuckled, shaking her head knowingly. "I believe they've found a different way to celebrate," she said with a teasing smile. Rhysand groaned theatrically, rolling his eyes. "Let's just hope they don't add to the drama with some new trauma," he quipped, his tone filled with mock exasperation.

Feyre giggled, her laughter ringing with warmth and affection. She nudged Rhysand playfully. "Oh, come now. They're just taking advantage of the freedom we fought so hard for," she said, her eyes dancing with mirth.

Rhysand sighed dramatically. "Well, let's hope they remember their manners this time," he said with a smirk, earning a laugh from Feyre.

You linked your hands with Azriel and shot Rhys a wink and a smirk. "Not like you were any different, brother." Feyre laughed, and Rhys nudged her playfully before Azriel winnowed you away.

The ballroom was opulently decorated, the light casting a warm glow on the throng of guests. All the High Lords were present: Tarquin, Tamlin—who you barely glanced at—Kallias and Vivien, looking regal as always, and Beron with his son Eris. You despised Eris for what he did to your cousin Mor, the reason she couldn't attend tonight.

For a moment, your gazes locked. Eris's amber eyes roamed over you, lingering on the delicate embroidery that adorned your gown, the way it hugged your curves with subtle grace. There was a glint of curiosity in his gaze, an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His smirk deepened slightly, a knowing glint flickering in his eyes as he took in your appearance.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks under his unabashed scrutiny, a mixture of annoyance and a strange thrill. With a subtle shift, you turned away but his amber eyes seemed to catch yours at every turn despite your efforts to avoid him, a smirk forming on his lips as he assessed you. You blushed, heat rising to your cheeks as you took your seat next to Azriel.

Rhysand began briefing everyone as each High Lord took turns expressing their joy at being free.

You looked down as Feyre spoke, "Please enjoy this party, take it as a new beginning." All the High Lords rose and began to mingle. You stood, but Azriel caught your hand. "Where are you going?" he asked, worry in his eyes. "Relax, Azriel, I'm just getting a drink," you said, and he nodded, releasing you. Rhysand seemed to have noticed and looked at Azriel; you knew they were communicating silently. As you moved gracefully through the crowded ballroom, the delicate fabric of your gown rustling with each step, you made your way towards the wine table. The air was filled with laughter and music, the chatter of High Lords and Ladies mingling in a harmonious symphony of celebration.

Just as you reached for a glass of wine, a sudden commotion broke out nearby. A drunken couple stumbled past you, their unsteady steps threatening to knock into you.

You stumbled, your balance faltering as you teetered on your heels. In an instant, you felt a pair of strong hands grip your waist, steadying you before you could fall. Heat surged through your body at the contact, your heart pounding in your chest. You looked up, breath hitching, and met those familiar amber eyes. Eris. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken. The smirk on his lips was infuriatingly confident as his hands lingered on your waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive drawl that sent shivers down your spine. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

His words were laced with a teasing edge, but there was an underlying sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. You tried to step back, to create some distance between you, but his hands tightened slightly, holding you in place. The room around you seemed to blur, the noise of the party fading into the background as your senses narrowed to the man standing before you.

"You should watch where you're going," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. "This place can be dangerous."

"Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to appear unaffected. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. "But I can take care of myself."

He chuckled softly, a rich, melodic sound that sent another wave of heat through you. "I'm sure you can," he replied, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, and it took everything in you not to lean into it.

You finally managed to step back, his hands reluctantly releasing you as you put some much-needed distance between you. "Is that any way to thank someone?" Eris drawled, the smirk never leaving his face.

You took a steadying breath, trying to ignore the lingering warmth from his touch and the way your heart was still racing. "Thank you," you said again, more firmly this time. "But I don't need your help."

"Of course," he said, inclining his head slightly. "But the offer stands."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind swirling with a mixture of irritation and something else—something you weren't quite ready to acknowledge. You watched him go, his confident stride and the way the light caught his hair making it hard to look away.

Finally, you took a deep breath and made your way back to your seat, trying to ignore the way your skin still tingled where he had touched you. You sat down next to Azriel, who gave you a questioning look. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just ran into an old... acquaintance."

Azriel's gaze flicked briefly to where Eris had gone, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "If you need anything..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off gently. "Thank you, Azriel."

As the night went on, you tried to focus on the celebration, on the laughter and the music and the sense of freedom that permeated the room. But every now and then, your thoughts would drift back to Eris, to the way his hands had felt on your waist and the look in his eyes. And you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to him than you had ever realized.

[wordsinhaled]

payneland neighbors AU

(a.k.a. one of my million WIPs that may actually be seeing the light of day)

edwin is an Alive Boy, who has had a near-death experience being bullied while he was at school, so he can now see ghosts.

charles is a Dead Boy, who is starting a detective agency out of his new flat, which happens to be next door to edwin's.

edwin does not realize charles is a ghost at first.

they are mutually down bad and trying hard (and failing) to be normal about it.

pining and shenanigans ensue.

should be able to get this posted to Ao3 sometime later today as chapter 1/? of who knows how many because apparently payneland has made me that person with multiple multichapter WIPs, lmao ~*~*~

Edwin does not think about his new neighbor across the hall.

(Said new neighbor's name, it will turn out, is Charles.

And Edwin most certainly does not fixate on the compelling glint of Charles' single earring in the sun, or the curve of his smile so easily offered.)

The story of it is this: Edwin had held the door to their building for him one fine spring day. Simple politeness, and moreover basic human decency, both dictated this was the proper thing to do for someone carrying such an absurd quantity of unwieldy parcels.

He had not expected the stranger to look so taken aback.

(He had an honest-to-goodness crystal ball propped precariously atop a stack of antique-looking books; and those teetered on top of several cardboard boxes near buckling under the weight of whatever they held within. A cricket bat protruded from the pin-encrusted rucksack slung over his shoulder. People did insist on having such incongruous pastimes, Edwin thought; and, apparently, atrocious packing habits to go along with them.

But the titles of the volumes Edwin managed to glimpse were as intriguing as the crystal ball was misguided—and he'd found himself rather helplessly curious.

"Cheers, mate!" the person he will soon know to be Charles had said, sounding obscenely grateful as he manouevred his way inside, and had flashed Edwin a grin so radiant and wide it hurt Edwin's cheeks in sympathy just to look at it.

Still, Edwin tried to think no more on him; nor on how surprised he'd appeared to be at Edwin's tiny show of kindness—at Edwin's perceiving him at all, even. Tried being the operative word.)

He'd been aware Jenny was letting the rooms across the hall, because she asked him several weeks ago if he might know any potential tenants. Edwin had informed her he did not. His last neighbor had listened to ungraciously-loud electropop at all hours of the night and harbored a seemingly endless stream of stray cats despite Jenny's very clear policy against animals.

Edwin would far prefer the space to stay blessedly vacant and blissfully quiet for as long a stretch as possible. He deserved some sort of a reprieve, he'd thought.

it seems he is not about to get one.

Edwin is reading when he hears a muffled string of colorful swearing, the lugging of things, the scraping of furniture across hardwood floors. While he may be able to studiously avoid thinking about the beautiful boy he'd met downstairs, Edwin cannot escape the inevitable and inconvenient fact that they will now be living in proximity. The telltale commotion that can only be made by someone moving in comes right to his proverbial stoop.

Who else could it be but him?

Edwin sighs. The only thing for it, he supposes, is to go over and introduce himself.

[watchnrant]

Agatha All Along Episode 6: Easter Eggs & References

Tower Reversed

Lilia’s Tarot Readings Are Weaving a Magical Web

Alright, folks, if you’ve been keeping track, Lilia’s tarot card game in Agatha All Along is officially on another level. In Episode 6, while doing a reading at William’s bar mitzvah, she drops “The Tower Reversed.” Now, if you’ve been paying attention to the tarot cards scattered throughout the series—and the promo cards (yes, they did that)—you know there’s more to it than a casual reading.

“The Tower” card? That blue crown we saw Teen rocking at the end of Episode 5? Yep, same one. And we’ve already seen the High Priestess tying back to Jennifer Kale in Episode 2 and the Knight of Wands matching up with Alice Wu-Gulliver in Episode 5.

So, what’s up with the Tower reversed? Well, it’s all about dodging disaster or going through a huge personal transformation—totally fitting for where things are heading in this magical chaos. Trust me, if Lilia’s pulling cards, it’s a sign things are about to go down (or maybe up?).

Early Argento Vibes

A Nod to the Master of Horror

So, in Episode 6 of Agatha All Along, we catch William complimenting Lilia’s palm reading tent, calling it “very early Argento.” Horror buffs, you know the deal—this is a clear shoutout to Dario Argento, the horror maestro behind classics like Deep Red, Tenebrae, and Phenomena. Argento’s influence is all about eerie atmospheres and vibrant, unsettling visuals, and it looks like Agatha All Along is taking a page straight out of his spooky playbook.

Split Souls

Lilia’s Crystal Ball Teases William’s Dual Identity with a Sneaky Tarot Twist

When Lilia tells William his lifeline is broken in two, take a good look at her crystal ball. You’ll catch a glimpse of William as Billy, rocking his now iconic hoodie and sweater. That’s a nod to his future goth teen look as Billy Maximoff! What’s even cooler? The reflection is upside down, with the Tower and Wheel of Fortune cards inverted behind him. Those tarot reversals are no accident—they’re setting up some major life-altering moments for William. Lilia’s reading hints that his lifeline is split, describing it as “a new you,” but we know it’s a sign of something much bigger—William’s fate as someone who’s destined to hold two souls in one body, creating his dual identity.

Teen’s Sigil

Lilia’s Crafty Magic at Work

Alright, Agatha All Along fans, Episode 6 just dropped a major witchy bomb—Lilia is the one who cast Teen’s sigil, hiding William’s true identity from every witch out there, including herself. This little spellwork went down right before Billy Maximoff’s spirit took over William’s empty body. So, if you’re wondering why Wanda couldn’t track down her kid in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, this is your answer: the sigil was already in place long before Billy inhabited that body. Lilia’s magic game is seriously next-level, and it’s all part of the tangled web we’re unraveling.

Radio Echoes

A Throwback to WandaVision’s First Episode

As the Hex is shrinking and William is traveling home from his bar mitzvah with his parents at the beginning of Agatha All Along episode 6, they can hear both Vision and Wanda's voices on the radio. Likewise, the dialogue is specifically from the very first episode of WandaVision and its I Love Lucy/Dick Van Dyke Show homage. This aligns with the broadcasts that were picked up by SWORD agents outside the Hex, as was discovered by Darcy Lewis and Agent Jimmy Woo.

Alice Wu-Gulliver’s Fate Flip

From Eastview Cop to Agatha’s Victim

In Agatha All Along, we get some juicy flashbacks that show William Kaplan was already connected to every witch in Agatha’s new coven long before the magic hit the fan. During his bar mitzvah, he got a hand reading from Lilia Calderu, and he was apparently a loyal subscriber to Jennifer Kale’s YouTube channel—where magic meets skincare (because who doesn’t love a good mystical exfoliant?). But here’s the twist: Alice Wu-Gulliver, who later becomes one of Agatha’s coven members, was actually the cop on the scene when William’s accident happened, working for the Eastview PD.

And just when you think you’ve seen it all, the show flips the script. In Episode 5, Alice tries to cast out Evanora Harkness’s ghost from Agatha’s body, sacrificing herself in the process. Agatha, being the power-hungry witch she is, siphons all of Alice’s magic and life force, leaving her for dead. It’s a full-circle moment: Alice witnesses William’s last breath, and years later, Billy Maximoff, reborn in William’s body, ends up watching Alice’s tragic end. It’s a fate-twisting, time-bending move that shows the witchy web Agatha’s been spinning all along.

Whispers of Billy and Tommy

William Encounters Familiar Voices

Right after William's heart stops beating after the car crash, Billy and Tommy Maximoff's voices can be heard telling each other goodnight right before they disappear as Wanda brought down the Hex in WandaVision. However, Billy was able to find William's body as the closest empty vessel to inhabit, resulting in the split life that was foretold by Lilia at the bar mitzvah. However, there's hasn't been any indication as to what might have happened to Tommy's soul, revealed to be Billy's reason for walking down the Witches' Road.

Billy’s New Identity Unlocked

A Classic Wiccan Origin Twist in the MCU

Alright, MCU fans, they did it. When Billy wakes up in the hospital in Agatha All Along, he looks down and spots a medical bracelet with the last name “Kaplan.” That’s right—the show is borrowing straight from the comics, confirming that Billy Maximoff’s spirit has found its new home in the body of Billy Kaplan, just like in the original Marvel lore. And those familiar faces? William’s Jewish parents, Jeff and Rebecca Kaplan, are a perfect match for their comic book counterparts.

William’s Wall of Wonders

Hidden Gems of Magic and Adventure

As Billy explores William’s room, it’s like a trip down the ultimate retro rabbit hole. The walls are covered with posters from magic-infused and adventure-packed classics like Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, The Black Cauldron, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks. There’s even a poster for The Goonies—only, it’s oddly titled The Goofballs. Clearly, William had a thing for the magical and mysterious. And judging by his magic-themed bar mitzvah, he was all in on the fantasy vibes. Fast forward three years, and Billy’s transformed the room to reflect his Hex obsession and deep dive into witchcraft lore.

The Westview Conspiracy

Billy Unveils What Really Happened with the Hex

When Billy shows his boyfriend Eddie his deep dive into the Hex, Eddie drops some serious intel: the Westview incident was officially explained away as an “Avengers training exercise gone wrong.” But Billy’s no rookie—he’s figured out the real story. Thanks to his research and a sharp eye for runes hidden within the Hex, Billy’s convinced that magic—not a superhero blunder—is behind the entire event. Talk about peeling back the layers of a cover-up!

Guess Who’s Back? It’s Ralph!

Westview’s Ultimate Insider Spills the Tea

In a shady parking garage meetup, Billy’s mystery Reddit contact is revealed, and—surprise—it’s Evan Peters’ Ralph Bohner. You remember him—the guy from WandaVision who got duped into being fake Pietro and Agatha’s puppet husband. Now, he’s left Westview behind, still haunted by the mind games he endured during the Hex. And with this new alliance, it’s clear he’s ready to spill some secrets.

What Really Happened to Sparky?

The Chilling Backstory You Didn’t See Coming

Brace yourselves—Ralph Bohner drops a bombshell about Sparky, the beloved dog from WandaVision. Remember when Agatha claimed she killed Sparky? Turns out, she forced Ralph to do the dirty work, making him poison the poor pup. It’s a gut-punch revelation that takes Agatha’s villainy to the next level. As if hexing an entire town wasn’t enough, she also made Ralph, under her control, hurt the most innocent of creatures.

The Soundtrack of the Witches’ Road

Lorna Wu’s Magic Tune Takes Center Stage

In Agatha All Along Episode 6, as Billy digs into the mysteries surrounding the Hex and Agatha Harkness, Lorna Wu’s rendition of the “Witches’ Road Ballad” plays in the background. We first heard it performed in reverse during Episode 4 when Lorna’s daughter Alice and the rest of the coven sang it. But now, for the first time, we’re hearing the actual rock ballad as it was meant to be played. It’s eerie, it’s epic, and it’s the perfect witchy vibe for the MCU’s spookiest storyline yet.

Billy’s Deep Dive Begins

333 Clues & a Hex of a Search

When Billy kicks off his search into Agatha Harkness, he types “Agatha Harkness Ancient Witch” into Looky and, surprise surprise, he gets exactly 333 partial results. And, if you’ve been paying attention, that 3:33 clock time from Episode 1’s interrogation scene suddenly clicks into place—definitely no coincidence there!

Among the search results, Billy stumbles upon The Macabre Wiki, an encyclopedia “created by two blood witches from Salem” that covers all things that go bump in the night. There’s also a Witchy Resource page that casually drops some intel about ancient witches and warlocks being “not well documented traditionally” (big shocker, right?) and hints that these mystical types have good reasons for keeping their secrets.

But here’s the real kicker—Billy finds an entry on how witches can choose their age and appearance, stopping their aging at will to stay looking thirty-something for centuries. Talk about defying time!

Finally, he hits up Dreadit and finds threads speculating on the Salem Witch Trials (SWT for short). One user points out that there are actual reports of witches surviving drowning and burning. Looks like Agatha’s ancient game of hide and seek is about to unravel, and Billy’s just getting started.

Agatha’s Dark Digital Footprint

From Salem to Jolene—The Witch Is Everywhere

As Billy dives deep into Agatha Harkness’s past, he uncovers some serious historical tea. He stumbles upon threads in the DreadIt forum—an underground community where users like “witchygirlblack” and “4thlevelwarlock” speculate about witches surviving the Salem Witch Trials. One post even mentions Evanora Harkness’s coven and hints that some of the young children escaped. When user “SamSamwitch” drops an image of Agatha Harkness, Billy follows the trail using Looky image search. What he finds is wild.

The search leads him to the Bellecross Daily Tribune, revealing that Agatha was listed as a missing resident after the Hindenburg disaster. But that’s not all—Billy finds a 1972 surveillance photo on a site claiming to show Dolly Parton with the “real Jolene.” Yep, someone’s suggesting Agatha was the homewrecker behind that iconic song, stirring up trouble with Dolly’s husband.

Digging deeper, Billy lands on Brujapedia, the self-proclaimed “Encyclopedia of Witches.” The site lays it all out—Agatha’s been spotted throughout history, from The Titanic to Nashville, Tennessee, in 1973. And the kicker? She’s got some seriously dark credentials: murdering her coven, possessing succubus powers, and being the only known survivor of the Witches’ Road.

As Billy reads on, Lorna’s Ballad starts playing, and he realizes he’s just scratched the surface of Agatha’s long, twisted legacy. This witch’s been weaving her chaos for centuries, and it’s all right there for anyone willing to follow the digital breadcrumbs.

Agatha’s Fashion Swipe

Ralph’s Family Reunion Just Got Weird

In Agatha All Along Episode 1, when we revisit the interrogation scene through Billy’s eyes, we finally get the full picture of Agatha’s antics. Turns out, while she was under the spell thinking she was a detective, she was rocking a “Bohner Family Reunion” shirt the entire time. Looks like Agatha’s not above a little wardrobe theft—especially when it involves messing with Ralph’s life even more.