#(I kept forgetting the cat even existed - why keep mentioning the magical cat in the promo if it’s barely there!!!)

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Teller of Small Fortunes

lighthearted fantasy adventure

follows an immigrant fortune teller who travels between villages telling small fortunes for people

when she runs into a (mostly reformed) thief and an an ex-mercenary searching for his lost daughter, she ends up traveling with them in the hopes she can help, along with a baker they meet along the way,

they encounter various magical creatures and adventurous situations, and eventually she has to face her past

no romance

[lazlolullaby]

Catfishing, a Shallura Fic

Here’s a shallura fic that I’m working on~ I’ve been pulling it up every October or so and keep getting stalled, so here’s the opening. I hope you like it!

Quick summary: Witch!Allura summons Cat!Shiro to be her Familiar. But of course, he lied on his online profile. Still, she tries to keep her head up.

Allura read the directions three times over.

There was always a nervous pit in her stomach when it came to new spells. A frizzle of excitement at her fingertips; like her powers were ready to pour out of her at any moment. Allura knelt down on a blanket, as to not hurt her knees. She inhaled, steadying her hands before drawing the circle. She put the sigils on the inside, then laid alternating tributes of snowflake obsidian and Oreos over them.

Allura was glad her potential partner had sweet tooth like she did. The online profile was fitting most of her criteria in a Familiar; not too old to feel babysat by them, not too young she feels like a babysitter, a shared interest in astrology, a patient disposition, and experience in potion making.

Her dear Uncle Coran would complain that there was no fun in it anymore. The elder used to slapdash a Summoning together just to see whatever popped up. While ignoring whatever popped up was angry they were pulled away from something.

The internet expanded their worlds, yet made it seem so much smaller. Modern society didn’t know about the actual power she could wield; and Allura liked it that way. She was merely a young woman who practiced her religion. It was comforting, keeping the rituals passed down from her mother and grandmother. If the key-chains she made were never lost, or her mugs kept tea at just the right temperature, that was just a bonus.

There was only so much one could do alone, which was why she sought a Familiar. Their heightened senses and connection to magic itself aided a witch in their studies. A partner that understood their ability in its fullest, and helped it grow.

She had been trying with several these past few months. Her poor neighbors thought she was bringing her veterinary work home with her; an absentminded parrot, an overactive Xoloitzcuintle dog, a string of indecisive geckos and distracting budgies. But as Coran pointed out; Allura was a traditionalist. When she saw the listing for a house cat, it was like fate.

Allura chanted the spell softly under her breath, and placed her hands on the markings. There was a surge of power in her hands, the vertigo made her head spin. And suddenly it was over. Allura opened her eyes.

A black and white cat was in the center of the circle, as promised. Wide gray eyes were looking at her, it’s body tensed for a moment, as if ready to jump away. The profile may need updating – the picture promised a classic tuxedo, but she could see sprinklings of white hairs here and there. She could chalk it up to stress, or an outdated photo. Then she saw his front paws. There was a prosthetic made of gray and black plastic, with a shield up to his shoulder, and small parts molded to look like toes. That wasn’t typical, most feline prosthesis only had a nub to walk on. The problem was that he didn’t let her know.

She’s met with her share of liars over the internet. The Xolo dog “forgetting to mention” he hadn’t had experience in potions, a Witch and Familiar trying to add a third, an errant Demon Hunter (as if Demons existed)...it was a wonder she still tried at all.

An injury like that would require some permanent changes to her home, even if he keep his prosthetic on. Ergonomic door handles, specialized cutting boards, maybe even a shower chair? At least she already had an electric jar opener. (And Coran said it was a waste! Well, it paid for itself in pickles and kimchi more than a partner ever could!)

Allura was getting ahead of herself, as usual. She turned to the side, picking up the contract she had prepared. The unusual terms made even more sense now. “Good afternoon,” she bowed politely. “I am Allura of Clan Altea, and I ask for your partnership as a Familiar. I understand your request and have modified the standard terms.”

The Familiar blinked, then seemed to recover and bowed in turn. “Good morning Allura.” his voice was deep, held steady by composure. “I am Shiro, and I...would like a minute.” he backed up, picking up the Oreos and the contract. They seemed to disappear out of view behind him. An essential trait of a Familiar. “Do you have a bathroom I could use?”

Her welcoming smile didn’t falter, “Yes, through that hallway, first on the right.”

Shiro nodded, his feline body gracefully dipping before nearly running out of sight.

Allura waited until she heard the door close and then she sighed and stood up. This was starting out spectacularly. .

.

.

So - there’s more. And an outline. This could be the year I finish it~ Thank you~

[jossambird]

This Soul Of Mine PT 4

Main Incubus Otto x Reader (Incubus Axel and Oscar x Reader in later parts!)

18+ (also in later parts)

(Mentions of Rape but only passing, as Incubus are Male Demons who feed off sex, most of them are NOT kind Swedes.)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

After a few moments spent together in silence petting the little cat in Otto’s arms, a man came out of the house along with Oscar. The unknown man’s eyes narrowed as he took you in, frowning deeply as Oscar seemed to whisper to him.

“I am Axel.” He roughly stated as he kept your gaze, accent thick. You nodded, trying to smile but too overwhelmed to. The wind blew around you, the silence practically deafening as he seemed to stare into your soul.

“I am Y/N-“

“Yes I know, your name was on the cookie box.” He cut you off, sounding irritated and headed back inside with Oscar, leaving only the screen door open.

“Sorry, he is wary of.. new people.” Otto whispered, a small smirk appearing on his lips as you both heard Axel huff loudly inside the home. Together, you sat on their front porch, petting the little bundle of fur before it demanded to be put down, running away quickly.

“I... May I ask a favor of you..?” You asked Otto, voice silent as to not let his brothers hear you. Judging by the way you saw them slightly turn their heads though, Super Hearing was also probably an Incubus power.

You felt bad asking this of him, it wasn’t his job... But he had imprinted on you, hadn’t he? Laid claim to you accidentally, just as The Handler had said. You were now his, and he yours, surely that meant something.

Your slight pinpricks of worry reached his nose, followed by embarrassment and hope. Hope?

“Yes, of course.” Otto whispered back, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the smell of relief you exuded, so much so that he had to look away, eyes turning inside to catch both Oscar and Axel watching out of anticipation.

“Would you mind accompanying me to church after tomorrow? It would not be for long, I... I need to deliver something, but I dont feel comfortable going alone.” You answered, wondering if he could sense that you were hiding something from him.

Could Incubi also read minds, just as their female Ruler had? Was that simply a Succubus power? God, as soon as you got home, you were going to write all of this down.

It was obvious you were hiding something from him, but as he took in the delicious scent of your emotions, Otto knew it wasn’t anything malicious. Your worry and hope outshined anything else, the sweet mixture making his insides burn, feeling the sudden need to comfort you.

It was a mistake to reach out, to touch you, hand placed on your forearm. The moment he did, mouth open to answer, the sharp dangerous smell of arousal waifed off of you, calling to him, your surprise mixing with it as he retracted his hand. Otto’s mind reeled as he tried to recover, senses on fire, barely registering that you had accidentally projected some of your emotions onto him in that moment.

“I will walk you home.” Axel declared, scaring you as he appeared behind you, gloved hand settling on your shoulder to lift you and turn you away from his stunned brother. You frowned, trying to turn to say goodbye to the two other brothers but couldn’t, Axel’s rough hold veering you out the yard and into the street and cold night, his gray eyes shining as he watched you.

“I know that you know.” He stated as he walked alongside you, momentarily shutting his senses off as to avoid your whirlwind of emotions that you visibly had no control over whatsoever. Mortals, such incapable beings. He didn’t miss the way your head snapped back to him, watching him as you walked together.

“My brothers are young, a hint of stupid even, so they cannot tell, but I can. You fraternized with her, sat with her. You smell of her cigarettes.” He said after a moment passed, coming at a standstill. You werent Otto’s soulmate, you were working for The Handler, plotting, cruel, acting kind to get close to his poor unsuspecting brother. He wanted to lash out, tell you how stupid you were-

The scent of pure unadulterated relief flooded his senses out of nowhere as you turned to him, eyes wide open as you gasped deeply, looking at him in surprise.

“Oh god, thank goodness! You have no idea how relieved I am to know that you know, she absolutely scared the life out of me! She arrived at the Church and sat right beside me!” You exclaimed, hands flying to your face to hide from him, fearing he was about to kill you-

“You- Your being honest...” Axel said, tone sounding more uncertain then he had ever been in his life, finding himself out of his depth at your honest and truthful answer. Something within his chest hurt, a sharp and twisted pain, lighting his senses on fire. It felt like the first breath of fresh air after being held under water for ages, wind filling his lungs as he breathed in slowly. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it; you knew they were demons? Incubi, to be specific, and yet you stayed either way?

“Why would you fraternize with demons, demons that rape, harm pretty little women like you... who lure unsuspecting women out in parks at night, only to eat their throat out?” Axel stated, trying to make you see just what they were, the dangers that they brought, what they truly were, but as he went on, he felt more drained, losing whatever edge he hoped to exude out to you.

He hated you, hated that a mere mortal like you were making him regret his choices, making him regret what he was as he saw the gentle pure kindness in your eyes. Most of all, he hated that you, you of all people, a pretty little church goer, made him regret being born an Incubus. For the first time in all of his existence, a mortal, a human, knew what he was, and stayed, showing him the same exact kindness as before.

“Wow, with a facial expression as flat as that, Im really trembling in my boots.” You smirked at him, hand lifting to push your hair back behind your ear as the wind blew around the both of you, trees swaying in the wind. A vile putrid stench filled the air for a moment and made him forget the retort that had been on his tongue, nearly making him gag as the scent filled his senses. What was that?

“Do that again.” Axel whispered out harshly, eyes sharply observing you critically as you stopped smiling.

“Do what again?” You asked, eyes wide, breath catching in your throat as he came closer, face moving towards you as if to smell you.

“Place your hair behind your ear again, there is something... unclean on you, something The Handler must have implanted on you, I can smell it wafting into the air around you.” Axel said before recoiling sharply as you lifted your arm, your soft gaze turning worried as you watched him openly gag, the noise making the nerves inside of you burst.

“Oh my god Axel, are you okay!? Im so sorry!” You asked, stepping away from him to leave him some room but halting as his arm shot out, grabbing ahold of your wrist-

Axel froze as foul images assaulted his senses, the scent overpowering him. He remained unmoving though, feeling it too important of a vision to pull back, pull away. You, the mere human mortal, were too important, he corrected himself, heart beating faster as he watched a Priest, supposedly a man of God, jerking himself off, your dainty little bracelet in his hand. Axel watched with a feeling of violation as the priest finished himself off and pocketed the bracelet, only to give it to you later that day at the end of a sermon. The man had tainted it, placed his unholy hands on it, coated with-

“Take it off.” Axel grunted as he pulled away, emotions running amok inside of him like a hurricane in an open field, ripping and destroying everything in its path. The delicate scent of your hesitation reached him, and he almost sighed out of joy at the sheer difference of weight your scent had over the bracelets filthy smell, making him forget the Priest’s disgusting act.

“If you can trust me, no matter how small, please, trust me now Y/N.” He added, eyes locking onto yours. It was a stretch Axel told himself, knowing he wasn’t in any position to demand anything of you after accusing you of potentially betraying them with little proof.

Nothing in this world had ever brought him ecstasy, nothing had ever made his dead heart beat, and yet here you were, ripping the bracelet off and throwing it into the woods behind you; the mere sight of your trust made his blood roil pleasantly under his skin, fingertips aching to touch you.

Had this been exactly what Otto had felt the first time he had touched you? Otto had been frugal on the details of his awakened state of mind, but was touch truly the key? It had to be, he had never felt a more pressing need to touch a human, anyone, anything, YOU, more then Axel did right now, invisible Incubus tail fidgeting back and forth out of confusion.

“Are you alright?” You asked again, noticing how far his gaze seemed, reminded suddenly of Otto’s expression the first time he had laid his hand on you. Axel breathed in sharply as you came closer, eyes connecting with your own. His gray-blue eyes shined in the moonlight, platinum blond hair reminding you of fresh snow.

You didn’t know what Father James’ bracelet had, or what magic was on it, but you trusted Axel.

“Y/N... If I asked you to no longer visit the Priest alone, would you respect my judgement?” Axel whispered softly as he lifted his hand, wanting to pushing your hair once more behind your ear but couldn’t. He watched you, watched as the wheels turned within your mind, and watched with greed as you bit your lip softly.

He had always seen female lovers do it, biting their lips to keep themselves from making sound, or out of desire, and it had never done anything for him. Yet here he stood, hand lowering to his side once more, insides churning in pure delight at the sight of your teeth sinking into your lower lip softly. The sweet scent of your surprise at his question curled around you, patiently allowing you to think before answering him.

You wondered if Axel had heard you speak to Otto earlier or if he had taken an educated guess. Did he also have powers like their Ruler did? He visibly had Super Hearing, but the was for another day to think about.

“You know, earlier at your home, I thought you hated me. But I would almost say you have a soft spot for me Axel, seeing how accommodating you are, walking me home.” You said, changing the subject as you felt anxiety rise up your spine with a vicious need. Axel hummed in answer, eyes squinting as he regarded you.

“You need not answer me, but please, next time, ask my poor simpleton of a Brother to accompany you.” He spoke, smiling a bit as you nodded and continued your walk home, silence reigning over the both of you the rest of the way.

——

The walk back home was torturous for Axel, mind and heart fighting, intelligence trying to reign victorious over these... feelings, emotions. Useless things, really.

Yet... he understood, understood why Otto had been acting irrationally. Nothing seemed to make sense as he had watched you wave goodbye to him from your front door, senses telling him to leave but.. body roaring to go knock on your door, to ask for permission to enter and touch you, touch your cheeks and run his lips against your throat. Axel wanted to feel your pulse under his fingertips, feel the fleeting human life inside you, and to feel you, just you, touching him back out of your own volition, not like the humans affected by his natural Pheromones.

Axel’s feet came to a sudden stop, previous inner thoughts reminding him just what he was: A Demon. An Incubus, a male demon that sought to impregnate human women, feeding off their souls and lives. He was everything your kind feared, everything they had nightmares about, everything human children cried about.

Slowly yet quickly, the thought came crashing down on him that this, all of these emotions he was feeling, all of these humanly soft thoughts, all of these stupid fantasies could never happen.

Never should he touch your cheeks, and run his lips along your throat. Never should he feel your pulse under his fingertips.

Never, under any circumstances, should he ever feel your touch, from this moment on. If he did, Axel knew he would fail, knew he would throw everything to the wind, fairytales and folktales be damned.

If you touched him, Axel knew he would follow you until the end of the Earth.

[vagrantblvrd]

Another supernatural/urban fantasy AU where, like.

Jeremy’s from a long line of magic users/Chosen Ones and doesn’t know it at first? (Because genre rules?)

Inherits this old mcreepy mansion in the middle of the city, because of course he does. (Like the house in Up, only Scooby Doo-esque type mcreepy mansion.)

When he gets there he’s greeted by this asshole who is the very epitome of the ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  emoji in Matt.

This asshole who answers the door with a donut in hand (let’s be real, half a donut) and most likely in some nerd-ish graphic t-shit and all that? Little streak of color in his hair and “Can I help you?”

At which point Jeremy realizes Matt’s the house’s “Caretaker” although he doesn’t know why?

Aside from realizing he has a roommate he has no idea what to make of and all that, things are kind of sort of normal for a while.

But then Shenanigans.

Creepy stuff like ghosts that wander about the mansion at night and things moving by themselves - Jeremy knows for a fact he put the thing down here, but now it’s in an entirely different room?

At first he thinks it’s Matt, but the asshole insists he isn’t doing it. Jeremy doesn’t quite believe him but it’d be super awkward to call him a liar to his face and the whatnot without proof of any kind since roommates and all?

So.

More Shenanigans in which strangers show up at the mansion expecting whatever relative Jeremy inherited the place from and getting him instead.All of them looking to Matt for explanation and him just being ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  because he’s just the Caretaker.

AND THEN.

Something happens/someone mentions something and Jeremy gets all curious because apparently Matt’s been around for a while? Mentions working for the house’s former owner at a time that doesn’t line up with Matt’s apparent age because no way the asshole’s much older than Jeremy, you know?

And he does some digging, the whole Library Montage and whatnot and finds all these old photos to do with the mansion - newspaper articles and the whatnot - and Matt’s in more than a few of them.

Photos that go way back, long before Jeremy was born. Before his parents were born and wouldn’t you know it?

There’s fucking Matt in the background along with whichever relative of Jeremy’s lived in/owned the house at the time. Sometimes Matt’s facing the camera head on, sometimes looking at something off to the side or completely unaware he’s in frame or some such.

All this along with vague-ish comments from Matt and the others Jeremy’s run into have him going back to the mcreepy mansion to ~confront Matt about it although he doesn’t know what the hell good it’s going to do? (Like. Weird as hell, yeah, but he hasn’t gotten the impression Matt’s dangerous  - to him - at any point? But still DRAMA.)

When he lays out all his ~proof, Matt (who has yet another donut in hand) is like “...I thought you knew?”

And while Jeremy is just HOW WOULD I KNOW Matt sorts through the copies to the photos Jeremy made, this oddly wistful smile on his face at most of them, and this -

Grimace? Something bad on a few that he shuffles to the bottom of the stack like he’d like to forget they existed.

And it turns out that the mcreepy mansion is ~*MAGIC*~ because of course it is.

Started out as your regular mcreepy mansion but Jeremy’s relatives and their friends poured magic into it over the years. Protective spells and the like, and a few of them got all creative or just mucked about with stuff they shouldn’t have?

And then bam, you got yourself a magical - living - house.

One that decided it needed a human-shaped form to manifest in becasue reasons (some crisis or other having to do with one of Jeremy’s relatives) and a summons for help that went sideways and oh, hey, Matt has hands and fingers and legs and toes and all the other human-ish bits?

All that magic and the whatnot that was poured into the house also Matt’s (and it’d been years by that point, you know? All these powerful magic users and their spells and whatever artifacts they had laying around soaking into the very foundations and just.

Matt’s pretty fucking powerful in his own right, is the thing. Mostly defensive magics and the whatnot given everything? But he’s had a long, long time to tinker with his magical abilities and the wolfish look that flits across his face as he says that tells Jeremy he’d be an idiot ot underestimate him.

And then, just.

Look.

Jeremy’s convinced he’s nothing special, didn’t even know the whole magic user lineage thing was real before this? Thought they were all stories and the whatnot his parents told him as a kid and nonsense and he doesn’t even have magic abilities!

To which Matt is like. “Uh-huh,” as he’s heard that line before and something’s always proven it wrong, but whatever.

Anyway, anyway.

Matt’s ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  about Jeremy finding out Matt’s not just his asshole roommate doesn’t really change things too much and honestly it stops being such a big deal to Jeremy after a bit. (Because Matt being Matt?)

Still.

Jeremy’s curious and starts asking questions and Matt indulges him by telling him stories about ~adventures he had with Jeremy’s relatives over the years.

Clams up when he gets to this one in particular, someone who was apparently a complete bastard and had weird ideas as to what it meant with Matt being the mcreepy mansion’s human-shaped manifestation meant if they owned the house?

Like.

“Moving on,” Matt says, and does just that. Distracting Jeremy from dwelling on that matter further by telling him about that time one of Jeremy’s relatives almost got them drowned in the sewers?

At some point there are more Shenaigans in which Jeremy discovers that hey, wow, he actually does have magic abilities and he and Matt team up to thwart some Evil Bastard’s attempt to enslave all of humanity or whatever his plan was?

Also he meets the others in the middle of all this Thwarting they’re doing, because reasons.

Weird/creepy Ryan with his basement lab/workshop for magical things and the whatnot, who leads him to Geoff and Jack’s shop of curiosities and other magic shit.

Gavin and Michael who are - fuck if Jeremy knows, but there’s a lot of talk about keeping Ryan in line because guy’s a lunatic? But they seem to be a relationship with him when they’re not out hunting monsters or whatever and it’s all Very Confusing. (Also Ryan may or may not be a vampire, and Matts just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  about it even though some of those old photos Jeremy found also have Ryan in them, and just. It’s a lot, okay, a lot.)

Lindsay swans in at some point with Fiona and they’re like. Magic police? But cooler, because of course, and did Jeremy know he’s broken several rules??? (But since he did save the world, they’ll just give him a warning this time.)

Fuck knows what’s going on with Trevor and Alfredo because they just show up at the mcreepy mansion at some point and kind of never leave?

But Matt seems happy to see them and everyone else are okay with them and they only tried to kill Jeremy that one time, so it’s probably okay???

Also, also.

Jeremy may or may not have a Thing for Matt, which is weird and awkward because magical human-shaped manifestation of the mcreepy mansion and all that?

But also Matt and his love for donuts and cats (like, fucking really, adorable as shit watching Matt with the strays that somehow end up living there full-time to the point they can no longer be called strays) and everything else?

Matt being Matt and Jeremy being Jeremy and both of them so stupid it hurts.

But also adorable as hell and everyone is so fucking done with their bullshit even though they start a betting pool about when the two of them get their shit together, and just.

Yes.

Also! While Thwarting a baddie at some point Matt ends up using so much of his ~magic that he can’t do the whole human-shaped manifestation for a while and Jeremy, okay.

He knows Matt’s okay? Just recovering and will do the human-shaped manifestation bit when he’s better and all that? (Ryan reassured Jeremy he would, and Geoff and Jack confirmed it as well, and apparently it’s happened before?)

But still.

Matt drained himself protecting Jeremy and so there’s moping and the whatnot over that and when it gets really bad the mcreepy mansion kind of kicks Jeremy’s ass into stopping that shit?

Little things here and there, like that time Jeremy was all :(((((((((((( in the shower and the hot water was replaced with ice-cold water? Doors shutting in Jeremy’s face when he’s going to tinker about with magic things down in the workshop/whatever and isn’t in the right frame of mind for it? (Might cause an accident and just. NO. Other things like that until Jeremy is like FINE and stops being dumb about things.)

When Matt does finally show up as a human-shaped manifestation it’s at the perfect time to give Jeremy shit for some dumb thing he’s just done, the way one does?

And Jeremy turns around, ready to get into it with him the way they do?

But Matt’s for this stupid soft, horrifically fond smile on his face and he looks tired, you know? Like shit. That streak in his hair that’s usually some color not found in nature (bit of ~rebellion on his part after that one relative of Jeremy’s who shall not be named that he’s kept up all this time) is colorless, and just.

Look.

Jeremy can’t be blamed if he just marches on over and kisses Matt after everything that happened, okay? (Because reasons.)

And if Matt kisses back, well. That’s no one’s business but their own.

(But also everyone else with the whole betting pool shenanigans once they find out and it’s a disaster watching them sort out who won, so yes.)

[lavellane]

A-Z HEADCANONS // DUNCAN THEIRIN

i was tagged by @nordxz thanks so much tash !! i'm gonna answer this for duncan, my babey and the next gen son of alistair and ella cousland 😊😚😘

i snappped while answering these and accidentally wrote 6 pages and almost 4k words so uh. loooooong infodump ahead.

Alignment: What would be their D&D alignment? How might it come into play?

duncan very easily falls into the lawful neutral category, like i dont rly need to give his alignment too much thought unlike with some of my other ocs. duncan is.....hmm. hes a very KIND person, generous and selfless, and tries his best to make people happy, but i wouldn’t necessarily say he's good, considering a lot his issues lie with his inability to act, or stand up to others. he’s guilty of very blindly following the law, or other people's ideas of what's right, and he doesn't really feel confident enough to rely on his own conscience for most things. so i'd say while he tries to do the right thing and act within the law, sometimes he goes against his own values out of fear or confusion or, simply out of ignorance, since he was born into a life of privilege and can't always distinguish what's right and what’s believed ykno

Beverage: What do they most like to drink, and why?

duncan shares a weird trait with both his brother and sister where they all just inexplicably ?? don't like alcohol at all. so stuff like wine and liquors is off the table. he absolutely LOVES tea though. u know that one scene in scott pilgrim where the gal is going thru her list of like 72 teas? thats him 100%. it's his lifeblood at this point, he has SO much of it and a perk of being the heir to a monarchy means he's got a lot of foreign merchant acquaintances, so he tends to order in different blends from all over. he's a chronic insomniac, and he uses it as a crutch to get through the days some times. modern!duncan still loves tea but obviously has a stronger love for coffee, since its far more effective!

Co-Habitat: Do they live with anyone? What’s “need to know” before moving in?

duncan currently lives in the residential dorms of the college of enchanters, while he's sort of aimlessly studying a bunch of subjects he's already mostly adept at. firstly, duncan is VERY sick lol, he was conceived while ella and alistair still hadn't found the cure for the joining, and essentially he inherited both of their darkspawn taint so 🙂🙂🙂 thats always a good time. so anyone who lives with him needs to prepare for 1) him being sick obviously,, throwing up, coughing up blood, looking like a corpse virtually 23 hours of the day lol. and obviously the fear that one day he might actually die. but also 2) he suffers from grey warden nightmares for the same reasons, hence the insomnia. he can go a concerning number of days without sleeping and usually only takes strategic cat naps when he needs to, but obviously he has his limits. it's very rare that he goes a full night without waking up in a cold sweat due to nightmares so. we stan one depressed king ! oh he also is Incapable of locking the door to his apartment. he always forgets and hes too tired to care about people stealing his stuff fkdkdjdjd he would probably make more of an effort if he had someone living with him, but old habits die hard so !!!!!!

Decor: What kind of home do they keep? Are there any defining details?

honestly , duncan's house is very devoid of clutter or personal items in general, which is sad. he definitely would have a lot of decor if he could, but since his current housing is only temporary while he's in orlais, he doesn't really want to get... comfortable ykno. other than that, duncan's home is always kept impeccably neat and clean, for two reasons. firstly, growing up in denerim's palace really engrained into his head the importance of keeping up appearances, so its sort of a subconscious ritual of his at this point. but i think more importantly its because of all the nights when he cant sleep, so during the night with nothing to keep him from dwelling on his thoughts or nightmares, he really needs the distraction, and cleaning gives him something to do. duncan really needs to feel like he's doing something, like he's managing, like he's able to achieve something so cleaning is just one little way of taking ownership of his life.

Escape: What do they do to de-stress? How successful is it?

nsfw warning but uhhh..... he has a LOT of sex basically dkdkdksk u wouldn’t know it by looking at him tho ! bc hes very polite and nervous and kinda shy?? but hes also charming and obviously attractive so he doesnt really lack for interested parties. mainly he just sticks to one night stands, with no strings attached, and it helps him take his mind off things when hes exhausted or its late at night and hes afraid to go to sleep. otherwise he also has had some friends with benefits but usually his personal life is too complicated for a serious relationship. aside from that, he also reads a LOT, writes too – when he has the time/energy – and obviously cuddling sessions with his cat, moira dkdkdk

Fluff: What hits their soft spot? Does anything turn them into emotional goo?

so ik above i said that duncan doesnt do serious relationships but thats,, not through any will of his own. he LOVES love and is a complete hopeless romantic , but unfortunately for a number of reasons he's just very unlucky at love ! 😔 so having an emotional, intimate connection with someone that isnt just sex is super healing for him, since he's not used to it at all. being with nadaia is such a positive thing for him, just knowing that his feelings are reciprocated and that he's valued and wanted.

Grudge: How bad does an insult go over? Do they hold a grudge long?

i think it depends on who its directed at !! duncan usually ignores any insults directed at him because he's grown up being so scrutinized by the public and for the most part, fereldens are very weary of him so he hears A LOT. most of criticisms about him he just.. automatically accepts as fact and really buys into them, bc he has such low self esteem. but as for other people, and ESPECIALLY loved ones thats a very different story!! he's not exactly the type to start throwing punches if anyone says a bad word against someone he cares about, but he WILL personally see to it in his own sneaky way that they get whats coming to them dkdkkdjd usually he'll either find a way to expose their dirty laundry, embarrass them in public, prevent a promotion, something like that lol. this goes double if the insult is directed at nadaia or his family.

Hobby: What’s something they do for fun that might be surprising?

ive already mentioned that he's an avid reader and he likes to write occasionally, but he's also a talented musician! He can play harp and lute, and has a beautiful singing voice ! tho he never EVER sings in public and u have to be like,, a ride or die for him to even consider singing in front of u.

Insomnia: What’s their sleeping schedule like? Snorer? Sound sleeper?

well like i said he's an insomniac so sleep rly is a vague, barely recognised concept to him at the point dksksksk he also experiences sleep paralysis during especially bad nightmares, honestly he rly hit the misery jackpot and i feel so bad like hes indisputably my most tormented oc 🙃🙃🙃 so yea hehe doesnt really thrash around during nightmares but he sweats A LOT and sometimes talks in his sleep. during sleep paraylsis obviouslyy he goes COMPLETELY rigid and still which is terrifying for everyone involved lol. on the rare occasion that he is able to sleep he is out like a light lol he would sleep for 17 hours if he could. in saying that because he is also a Strategic Napper he is usually comfortable falling asleep ANYWHERE, because hes so tired comfort really isnt a concern lol.

Jaded: Do they buy into the “happily ever after” ideal? What’s their standard?

no he doesn't unfortunately 😔 or at least i should say he doesn't believe in it for himself - he's pretty convinced that he won't live til 30 and he's existing on borrowed time as it is, so he hasn't really put a lot of thought into his own happiness or the pursuit of his own goals because he doesn't believe he'll be around to see them realized

Kin: What’s their role among their relations? Do they consider others family?

duncan is the firstborn son of king!alistair and ella cousland, my canon warden. he's also the eldest brother to roslyn and bryce theirin. he's also, obviously , the half brother of keiran, tho none of the theirin kids are aware of that oof. his role, officially, is to become king when his parents eventually pass. its NOT something he wants, due to being so sick and unsure of himself. despite what his parents tell him, he doesnt believe he will make a good king and is really terrified of the notion in general, i guess a little like alistair was in dao. duncan kinda,,, avoids his duties, to the point where he literally LEAVES to live and study in orlais. he still does what he needs to do, keeps in correspondence with people he needs to, but its all bare minimum stuff because hes just. so afraid of it lol. he has a mostly good relationship with his family, despite that – theres some resentment between him and his sister, rose, but thats a whole entire story we dont have time for dkdkskdk

Law: What do they think about abiding rules? Are they selective about it?

like i said before he's pretty adherent to the rules and laws of society tho i do see that as more of a flaw than anything. he doesnt really feel comfortable stepping outside the norm and tends to accept that other people know best ! even if he disagrees he's usually too unsure of himself to speak up. that does change quite a bit once he and nadaia grow closer, since SHE is big on bending ridiculous or unjust rules, but he's always gonna be a bit of a follower i think 😒

Magic: In a magic series or not, are they accepting, or is each instance a shock?

he's accepting!! he's a mage so it would be wild of him if he didnt lmao. during his childhood/adolesence he was kinda harsh on himself and had a lot of internalized guilt for being a mage, bc this was obviously still fresh after the mage rebellions. he resented his own abilities and just wanted to be normal, but that was also him projecting a lot of his other problems as well. he had amazing teachers who helped him come to terms with his abilities, and the best of all was my inquisitor, ashara, who is kind of like a very distant, scary aunt who always had a soft spot for him. she helped him – and alistair and ella – RIGHT after they discovered he was a mage, and she was really the biggest role model in his life when it came to magic. duncan has always looked up to her skill and control and confidence, and tried very hard to match that.

Network: Are they connected to the people? How much do they reach out to others?

duncan has an ARMY of acquaintances and connections due to his family, but doesn't really have a lot of people he considers his close friends. he's super friendly and he gets along with most people, but like ive said before serious relationships including friendships are always a bit complicated for him bc of who he is as a person lol. as for reaching out, he's a very independent, introverted person and so he tends not to seek out other people unless he's close to them or has no other choice. he's very self conscious about being a burden on people or being to “needy" so he holds himself back and sometimes comes across as a little cold.

Offspring: What kind of parent would they be? Would they prefer one, or multiple?

he.... probably can't physically have kids unfortunately due to his condition, and as a result he's never really wanted to think too much about it, or imagine a scenario that he believes he cant have. but if it WERE a possibility, or if he felt stable in his own life enough to adopt, he'd probably be comfortable with just one child to completely spoil. he would be such a good father, albiet maybe not the coolest dad ddkdkdks i think nadaia would be the one who got up to the crazy shenanigans and let her child get away with everything, and duncan would be more of the nurturing, responsible one. he'd be a MASTER at telling bedtime stories, would kick ass at homework assistance, and would sing his kid to sleep every single night (until they got too old for it obviously). ooooo im so IMMENSELY emo abt this au now that i think about it

Pistol: Is this character skilled with a weapon? What’s their opinion of violence?

duncan is a very non-violent person, but he does believe that sometimes violence is necessary and will BE violent if he needs to – only in self defence scenarios though. he's an adept mage, and very skilled with a staff, but he isn't a fighter, really – more of a defensive, protective figure.

Question: How often do they feel doubt? What topics are they defensive about?

oh the doubt is constant with him 🙃🙃 he has a lot of deep routed dread about his own morality and whether or not he's a good person or if the maker will accept him when he dies. he's andrastian but TERRIFIED of the notion that its all actually real, bc then he doesnt know where that leaves him. he has this weird existential dichotomy where he doesnt know if hes closer resembling a grey warden or a darkspawn bc of his tainted blood. he also doubts his abilities and his magic bc he's afraid that the taint just,, makes him inherently a corrupted thing. he doubts himself on a more basic level with like, being a good brother, a good son, a good king when the time comes. he wants to be a good student and partner but sometimes his health makes him feel like he cant, and it weighs on him so heavily, almost all the time. basically he needs a hug so badly its not funny 😔😔😔

Reminder: How are they at remembering daily needs? What falls through the cracks?

uhh its very selective !!! for the most part he's very good at taking care of himself, mostly because he NEEDS to otherwise his health gets out of control, but sometimes he tends to prioritize one set of needs above another,, which usually means not sleeping (the most common), forgetting to eat, not letting his loved ones know when he's having a poor health day which usually results in him getting really sick and nobody is around to help him. he also forgets to do certain things like lock up his house, buy foodstuffs, reply to peoples letters n stuff like that.

Sing: Do they like music? Do they listen often/sing/hum/play songs in their head?

yes and yes !! duncan loves music altho its a very personal and private thing for him. he's pretty naturally gifted with music and gets it from ella, who taught him a lot of what he knows. he has a gorgeous singing voice (i kinda hc something similar to dan smith’s vocals from bastille!) that he rarely uses bc he only ever sings when he's alone or if he's forced to by a nosy loved one or something lol

Touch: How do they handle contact? Is their personal bubble big?

duncan doesn't mind being touched !!! in fact in most situations he welcomes it, as long as its like,,, appropriate and not some random stranger obviously. he grew up with ella and alistair who obviously are VERY affectionate people so he loves giving and receiving hugs from friends and he doesnt flinch or feel weird about just? random natural touches or anything. his ~love language~ is also physical touch so he LIVES for cuddling with nadaia and holding hands and anything like that. however !!! his little sister rose HATES being touched by virtually anybody and in any capacity, so he's very aware that not everybody is okay with touch, and is always careful and considerate of other peoples boundaries. he usually waits for the other person to make the first move, or simply asks them first !

Upcoming: How much do they think of the future? Do they make long-term plans?

he doesn't at all 😔 i mentioned this before but he doesn't see himself living very long, and its really impacted his outlook on life. he is afraid to commit to a lot of things, even if its something he really, truly wants, because he doesn't want to get his hopes up for things. it also keeps him from forging positive relationships. a lot of it has to do with him just being overly polite, but he refuses to make the first move with anything, or communicate what HE wants out of something. for example, his relationship with nadaia could have progressed so much faster if he had just,,, told her what he wanted. she had to make a lot of the first moves in the relationship because he just,, doesnt know how to take chances i guess !!! we love a Deeply Flawed king

Vice: What bad habits do they have? Is there something they would be ashamed of?

Some harmless ones are ; him talking to his cat constantly dkdskd also he has very poor time management skills so he's almost always a few minutes late, forgetting to lock his stuff up, and slouching, probably !!! some more serious ones would be like,, having sex with strangers as a coping mechanism lol, not speaking his mind and instead just letting himself be a doormat, also INTENSE avoidance of his problems (moving away to orlais for 9 years to avoid his fear of being king for example 🙃) tho i guess they fall under the same category oof.

Wardrobe: What’s their fashion style? Do they have any staple pieces?

duncan dresses nice, for the most part !!! again, it's mostly to do with growing up in court and having to keep up appearances, but also hes just. a nice bisexual boy who wants to take care of himself ykno, and that includes hygiene/clothing/grooming etc ! he's maybe a bit TOO reserved tho, he mostly wears dark colours like blacks, greys and brows, but hes been known to wears reds/blues/whites as well, and there’s a lot of subtle yet beautiful details on his more formal attire that might go unnoticed by a casual eye. a lot of his clothes are specifically tailored but he's also fond of big oversized sweaters for when hes just hanging out ! he's got a not great relationship with his body lol so he usually dresses very conservatively, with long sleeves and pants and usually more than one layer, but hes also a thot so !!! pants be TIGHT dksksksks

X-Ray: How’s their health? Any problem areas? Do they take care of themselves?

Djdjdksksndjddjkekdidksjs OKAY WELL if u have read this far than obviously u kno the answer to this question. if ur just skimming tho first of all ur valid ! second of all duncan is VERY sick. he was conceived when ella and alistair where still searching for the joining cur, so basically he inherited the darkspawn taint x 2 and nearly died a bunch of times as a baby/young child. obviously idk how the cure storyline is gonna resolve but my hc is that bc the darkspawn taint is something he was BORN with, not just something that happened to him via ritual, his body is much more impacted by it so even if they are able to find a cure, it wouldnt work THAT well and his health would still suffer bc of the prolonged damage. so physically, he deals with a LOT – intense migraines, insomnia, nausea, fatigue, problems with breathing and fevers and stuff. obviously mentally hes.... not doing great either, tho he’s trying his best. sometimes his insomnia gets so bad he starts hallucinating visions from his darkspawn nightmares, and sometimes he just feel paranoid in general that he's actually an Evil Darkspawn and hes just somehow managed to convince everyone hes a normal person – sort of a weird blend of imposter syndrome and body dysmorphia its. complicated. anyway he has very low self esteem and tends to think hes a huge inconvenience to everybody, and when he was a teenager he went thru a period where he was very suicidal, and ANGRY and afraid 😔 he’s doing better though, now that he has learnt how to manage most of his symptoms and he's not suffering in denerim court. nadaia is also a huge help, though he tries not to become too heavily reliant on her, since he's had bad experiences with depending too much on other people.

Yack: What’s their favorite thing to talk about? What do they go on about?

skskdkdk im already crying hehe 🙂 duncan is so introverted and self conscious of being “Too Much" for other people so he tends to keep his thoughts/interests to himself and stick w just. boring small tall or non invasive questions relating to the other person. BUT if u show an interest and he trusts u then oh boy. hes an absolute dork. he loves talking about magic and having really intense conversations abt the technical sides of it (he and dorian would get along SO well) but he also loves history !!!! before he began studying at the college of enchanters he received multiple ??? qualifications?? (idk if thats the right term but u kno) from the university of orlais, one of them being orlesian and ferelden history. also anything to do with the grey wardens, the blights and darkspawn for personal reasons obviously. He's a VERY good storyteller so he somehow finds a way to make even the dryest topics seem very compelling and Cool – varric would be proud !! he finds the orlesian Great Game fascinating, and he enjoys sharing wild anecdotes about the things he's seen asshole nobles get up to. thats always thrilling skdksksk ALSO. He has a secret interest in necromancy and the mortalitasi (its only a secret bc hes the heir and that wouldnt look ... great lol ) but he only ever really talks about that with nadaia, who finds that stuff almost as interesting as he does. also, finally, he loves talking about nadaia 😊😊😊😊 hes the type of guy who will always namedrop “my girlfriend" into any conversation, loves telling people about her accomplishments and how Cool she is ..... he loves her a Lot is what im getting at sksksks

Zodiac: What’s their astro sign? Does it fit? What would you pick, if it’s unknown?

duncan is a pisces babey like his mother !!! tho he could also be a virgo but,,, i think for now pisces works better for him. he's very smart and introspective and creative, but he has some issues with critical thoughts, avoidance and melancholy like ive mentioned. also pisces is a water element so i guess that makes even more sense, since hes an ice mage 👌👌👌

okay !!! im done !!! i cant believe i wrote all that but i guess if u didnt know abt duncan before, u absolutely do now dksksks im so sorry to anyone who actually read thru all of this, u really are braver than the troops

[hotegg]

my weird fae connection (pt 1)

ive has a weird relationship with fey my whole life, even when i didn’t believe they existed.

my earliest memory regarding faeries was when i was reeeaaallly small. baby toddler age. i had this lovely little book about faeries that had beautiful and captivating illustrations. it was a little kids book, so i imagine its contents were sweet and bedtime story-ish. yet, when i looked at it, i got such a weird feeling. kinda like... i got uncomfortable? i wasn’t sure why, though.

fast forward many years until i started my craft, so about a year and a half ago. i learn a bit about the fey/fae but only really basic stuff like don’t give them your name, don’t make deals with them unless you’re really prepared, don’t thank them, they are dangerous, ect ect

other than that, i didn’t spend too much time focusing on them because i was busy learning other things.

one day i was feeling generous and in a giving mood. i wanted to become a bit more friendly towards whatever forces or spirits resides on and around my land. so i left a very very simple offering and told them to enjoy. part of the dedication was to the fae that might’ve been around.

it was kinda a one-time thing. i didn’t leave any other offerings after that. but then, oh boy, a week or so after, i had a shit week. all of my stuff kept going missing in the most INCONVENIENT of times. sometimes the things would turn up at the end of the day, sometimes not. it was extremely frustrating and it made me real upset real fast. at the time, i just didn’t recognize that a spirit, or even the fey, was messing with me. the idea only really hit me last month out of the blue.

as i’m going about my path, learning witch stuff and doing magic, i meet a lot of amazing people online. i also got some energy readings done. from what i can remember, i’ve been told i have fey/fae energy twice now. the first time was by a friend here on tumblr just briefly starting that my energy reminds them of fae. huh, weird. it was interesting, but nothing clicked when they said that.

even after a year of practicing magick, i still didn’t learn much about faeries. in fact, i kinda avoided them. actually, i definitely avoided them. i’m not sure why. kinda like the book when i was small, i just kept getting weird vibes from fey that i didn’t wanna mess with. especially after i realized that the week of hell i had experienced might’ve been due to the fact that i didn’t give the fae more offerings when they wanted it.

now, i honestly can’t remember if this next event was before or after my friend mentioning the fae vibe in my energy. but i remember one night, definitely a handful of months ago at least, i was falling asleep. but it wasn’t... it wasn’t a normal way of me falling asleep, if that makes sense? yes, i was laying down, i was comfortable and tired and ready to rest, but my energetic being was like “nope! we want to go to the astral!!!” and it was hard for me to stop.

it felt like i was diving head first down a chute. i keep going deeper until i remember seeing an oddly blank background that had a reddish tint to it? and standing before the strange backdrop, i (blurry) saw a handful of small beings. they were short (and if i’m remembering correctly, kinda squat) and had wings, and looked like they had human bodies. other than that, i couldn’t make out the details.

they seemed really joyful and jolly. kinda like any creature dancing and singing in Shrek. to me, it was like watching the cheesiest play.

they were singing in these high pitches voices and i understood they were smiling and acting happy and whimsical. but their dancing seemed to be leading me to somewhere. they were inviting somewhere. they were trying to lure me in.

now, a couple things to mention here.

1. i trust my deep foundation of my soul to save me in odd circumstances. i feel somewhat confident that i could kinda auto-pilot around in the astral and trust my core being not to be stupid. and i trust that in dangerous or odd situations, my consciousness will awaken, like it did in the situation, and i’ll be able to try to make my way out.

2. i understand that what i was seeing could’ve been a glamour. probably was a glamour. but the question is by who? were fey trying to appear more inviting? or was some other entity trying to completely fool me by portraying something vastly, vastly different from what they truly are? who knows. i guess i will never find out. but for now, we’ll say they were faeries because they appeared that way to me.

alright. so. these little faeries things were dancing and singing and speaking to me like an overly enthusiastic tour guide. when i noticed they were moving in a way that looked like they were trying to lure me somewhere, my consciousness woke the fuck up.

the creature were saying things like “come on! join us! it’ll be fun!” all that kinda bs.

and i kept yelling and trying to pull away from this... deceptive force that was trying to bring me in. i just kept yelling “no! i don’t want to!” over and over again, louder and louder, until i woke up with a jolt.

........ 🤷🏻‍♀️

so! after that!!! REALLY avoided fae.

fast forward to now. maybe last week or this week? i get an energy reading done by a blog on tumblr i’ve never interacted with before.

they mention that i’m connected to fae. not that my energy reminds them of fae, but that i’m connected somehow. weird.

still not sure how i’m connected to them, but once i read that, something seemed to lock into place? like some sort of subconscious meaning clicking that i couldn’t grasp yet. and ever since, my relationship with fae has appeared to become weirder.

ever since the diviner told me that, shit started in my house. specifically, my things. but only when i was looking for them.

okay, cat. that’s normal. you’re forgetful, clumsy, messy, and you misplace things often.

but... it was getting to a really strange point. as if, whatever happening was intentional.

the only example i can really remember clearly (because it happened AFTER i wondered if my shit going missing again was fae) is the other morning. maybe yesterday or the before?

i was sitting on my floor in front of my mirror in my room, doing my makeup. i needed to use my toner before i did anything. i had sat down after purposefully placing my toner next to my makeup bag after taking it out of another bag.

so, i layed all my cosmetics out before me and then reached for my toner.

which wasn’t there.

????????????????????????

i sat in place for a moment with this face: 🤨

and proceeded to carefully observe my surroundings. the bottle (about the size of a shampoo container) was no where on the floor with me. nor was it in my bedsheets. or on top of my only shelf.

i went out of my room and looked in each bathroom in my house bc i know how absolutely terrible my memory is and how easy it is for me to misplace things.

it’s nowhere to be found.

i go back to my room, now kinda frustrated, and i look everywhere in my room. i lift more things up, move all my makeup, shake my sheets, i do it all. still nada.

so. i sigh. then, knowing what i had to do, i spoke aloud and said, “please, toner, reveal yourself to me.” a simple spell that is kinda reliable in my experience.

when i said those words, i silently aimed it towards any spirits that may have been around. that were most likely around.

what do you know. THREE SECONDS after the words, i don’t even look around my room. i just plop myself back in front of the mirror, ready to give up on the toner, and the damn bottle was sitting on top of my makeup.

😐

so, ever since that. this fae relationship connection thing has.... caught my attention.

the odd thing is though. this week, as my stuff is being moved around (there were multiple other instances like the toner), my possessions seemed to turn up almost immediately after i asked for them back.

which is making me think... if this is fae shenanigans, they don’t seem to be doing this out of anger. but rather as... some sort of sign to communicate with me? or confirm something that i can’t even process right now.

anyways. i’m going to continue to try to understand what is happening and why with as little direct communication to fae as possible.

does anyone have thoughts in this????

ill be sure to keep an uodated log on this fae connection journey.

OH! the whole reason i wrote this in the first place!!! lately- before the weird fae stuff started happening within the past couple weeks- i’ve noticed that i cannot let a diviner do a service for me without giving them something in return. at first, i thought i was doing it to be nice. and i am. but. i can’t help but wonder if it’s fae influenced...

update: i also remember that last night i went to bed with my retainer in and in the morning it wasn’t in my mouth and i haven’t been able to find it! that’s too weird if that’s fae influenced!

i also remember that i was trying to count something, but for some reason it was extremely hard to count up to ten and my mind and tongue felt twisted. i have no idea if they do stuff like that, but i couldn’t help but think about the fae.

[aalin-pace-blog]

i. basics

Card: 14. Temperance

Character Name: Aalin Pace

Faceclaim: Morena Baccarin

Age: 38

Gender & Pronouns: Female, she/her

Outside Occupation: UX Designer

ii. character interview

If you could be in charge, would you be? What would you do?

“I’ve been in charge before. I’ve led teams of disparate people, I’ve tried to hold their hands and maneuver them through trials and tribulations, I’ve succeeded and I’ve failed. While there is great satisfaction in a job well done along with the knowledge that you were instrumental in getting there, there are so many drawbacks. The blame, if given, rests squarely on your shoulders. Tempers flare and you’re the one they attack. At times it’s like herding cats. Cats that are on fire and refuse to be put out.”

Her answer seemed to please The World. There was a nagging feeling that Aalin had once known this person, but she couldn’t remember the specifics. It was quite infuriating, if she was being honest. A puzzle she would never be able to solve, not if what The World had told her was true. She would be limited to the stacks of journals held within these walls. Second hand information. It wasn’t the way Aalin liked to learn, but she supposed it would suffice. For now.

Aalin shook her short crop of hair over her shoulder. “Over the years, I’ve learned I like to lead from the sidelines, if at all. My skills are more useful than my leadership, I think. People forget you’re there if you’re not the one standing in the middle of the room shouting your opinion and marching orders, leaving much more room to soak up information. You learn something about the people on your team when they think you’re not listening, more than they’d ever tell you to your face. Not to mention the amount of time I have for my own education. Leading can be so tiresome and time consuming.” She let out an exasperated sigh, remembering all too well how exhausting the launch of Google News was, despite its success.

It was the most Aalin had spoken uninterrupted in years. She liked how The World let her say her peace, even though it felt like every word was being analyzed for some greater purpose. Aalin was used to that, though she was more used to being the one doing the analyzing. A quizzical look blossomed across her face, genuine curiosity in her words. “How does anyone get anything done when they’re in charge?”

What is your favorite part of your power?

When I first came to “The Lair”, I found only a few fellow Councilors, the beginnings of my new family. Immediately, I felt their abilities slamming into my brain and could no longer deny The World and her claims of magic and the Arcana Council. As soon as I felt their powers, however, they were gone. No...not gone...suppressed. Hiding beneath the surface, bubbling under a fog. Had I done that?

The World called it “Power dampening”, but some of my peers called it something far more crass. It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t control it yet, but I have to admit it was calming not to have everyone waving their abilities around all willy nilly. The Empress was the only one I really trusted, until a new member came in soon after me. They seemed more grounded than the rest, more willing to keep the balance the world so desperately needs.

No wonder they call me Temperance.

I never noticed before I came here, how much the anxiety inducing meetings got to me back in the “real” world. The men swinging their egos around, mousy women taking anything they threw at them, and the ones who wanted to argue any point with any person who would listen. It was chaos and I just shut it out and went to work. No wonder no one ever noticed me. Even here with all the large personalities, it was a wonder The Lovers even saw me unless I was taking away their abilities.

Read us a journal entry from your first life.

Journaling has always brought me peace. I would have kept one even if The World had not asked us to, though to be honest, it would have contained many different entries, I’m sure. I know some of the others detest the assignment or feel it’s beneath them, but I agree with The World’s idea to keep our lives recorded, and from our own perspectives. How interesting it could be to reread these tomes after centuries away from that point in our lives.

I still find myself coming to terms with my newfound abilities. Magic has and always will be a force of balance, but I find myself off-kitler as I adjust. The Ancients warned us of this, but you never really know a feeling until you’ve felt it. Every time I walk into a room, I feel the others’ abilities as if they were tangible entities I could reach out and hold, and I feel myself softening them until they’re almost indistinguishable. More practice is needed, to be sure. At times the others’ abilities are too overwhelming, even when they’re not being used. I can still feel them, hanging in the air around me. I can tell some of my new companions despise my power. They tend to forget I’m there, until they can no longer wield their powers.

Perhaps that is why I was chosen. To keep the balance.

I’ve never faltered when it comes to balance. I find myself dancing on the precipice of light and dark, “good” and “evil”, chaos and serenity, never tipping one way or the other. My companions seem to have a harder time staying on one side or the other, when they should be toeing the line between. But that is not their strength, and I understand that.

If only they did. If only they learned to lean on their fellow Councillors for their strengths. Perhaps with time we shall grow and harmonize the way the Ancients want us to. I’m optimistic, but I feel the other Councilors’ gifts and can sense how dangerous they would be if used for selfish purposes, if used without the rest of us to balance.

iii. background

Balance. Life and death. A new soul comes screaming into the world as another peacefully fades out of it. This is how Aalin entered this iteration of her life, with the truest sense of harmony and symmetry. On the clear night in December, as a fresh snow was falling over the hospital grounds in Ashland, Oregon, Aalin Pace came kicking and screaming into being, replacing the soul of her mother. The doctors had known it would be a difficult birth, but Nooma demanded to go through with the pregnancy. Aalin was to be her little miracle, even if it killed her. And that she was, even if Nooma wouldn’t be around to see it.

In childhood, Aalin was a calm and obedient child. She was bright, but never tried to outshine anyone. ‘Easy going’ and ‘kind’ were the two go-to words used most often to describe the child who never seemed to have any squabbles. In fact, most people felt so much more at ease around her that whatever argument they were having seemed to falter.

Ever the mediator and with a scholastic reputation, Aalin was picked constantly for group projects, sometimes even when she’d rather work alone. The value of having the smartest girl in class in your group was not lost on her classmates, but more times than not, she was quickly forgotten as the rest of her peers vied for the coveted title of “project leader”. Aalin would simply roll her eyes and put her nose back in her books, all too aware that the “leader” really was more of a figurehead than a contributing member of the group. The rest of her team may wish to fail, but she would not.

It wasn’t until she entered the graduate design program at UC Stanford that Aalin really understood what it was that was missing in her life. She never truly felt like she belonged, never felt like she was seen or appreciated for the talents she possessed. Most of the time she didn’t mind playing second fiddle to the more rambunctious people around her, but sometimes it would be nice to be noticed. Her classmates stampeded over her despite their lack of natural ability, and though Aalin was one of the most easy going people you could ever meet, she wasn’t about to flunk out of school because she didn’t have a backbone. Her mother hadn’t given her life so that she could have one to let it be squandered.

So Aalin but her nose to the grindstone and worked. She worked in the background while her roommates went to keggers, she worked when her best friends dragged her out to bars only to forget she was there 15 minutes after getting there. She worked harder than she ever had, and she gained the attention of more than a few tech companies that were springing up all over Silicon Valley. While her peers were fighting cutthroat campaigns to get job offers from any worthy company, Aalin focused simply on doing a good job. She even helped some of her classmates study, but when push came to shove, it wasn’t her peers who got the holy grail offer.

Google, a new company in Palo Alto, California, wanted her. As it turned out, Aalin picked the best possible study buddies, a pair of PhD students who wanted to branch off and create a new tech research company. They were blown away by her academic achievements and her enduring personality and offered her not an internship but a fully staffed position at their new office. Aalin still wasn’t sure she found her niche, but every day that she walked into the conference room for a morning round up, she felt a genuine smile pop up on her face. Still usually the quiet girl in the back, Aalin listened and soaked up every tidbit of information she could get. The company’s code of conduct “Don’t Be Evil” truly resonated with the young woman and she couldn’t imagine herself in a better place.

That is, until a being calling themself The World entered her life.

It was 2004 and Google had just released their IPO, effectively becoming the future force to be reckoned with, all thanks to Aalin. It was a write up in Time that got The World’s attention, they explained to a very confused Aalin. The existence of magic, of past lives and revoked immortality sent her reeling. However there was a bit that hung in her mind, unwilling to be explained away by logic. The World had called her Temperance and explained that she was the embodiment of balance and compromise. She saw into Aalin’s soul and spoke things no one had ever bothered to ask about or try to see. It was as if she had been truly seen for the first time in her life – in this life – and Aalin wasn’t ready to let that feeling go.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

A Strange Coincidence: Part 5

Doctor Strange x Reader, Female Pronouns, Slow Burn

A Strange Coincidence Masterlist

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

Summary: You’re a student who just moved to New York City to finish your PhD in Archeology.  But, things turn for the strange when you accidentally stumble upon 177a Bleecker Street.

A/N: Sorry for the late update.  Things are going to be a little slower now, as I’m trying to put more effort into my screenwriting.  I’m still going to try and post something every week, but no guarantees. PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!!

Word Count: 3.1 K

           You liked to think you understood the basics on how the world worked.  Time moved linearly.  If you tossed an apple into the air, it would, inevitably, come back down to the earth. There wasn’t really a monster in the closet. But, as you sat in the library of what you now understood to be the Sanctum Santorum, you began to comprehend how little you actually knew.             

          “Here,” Wong said, “drink this. It will help.”

           You looked up at the man, and the cup of tea he held in his hands.  Smiling in thanks, you reached out to take it. It was only then you noticed how badly your hands were shaking.

          You held the cup tighter so not to spill as you raised it to your lips.  Your heart still raced, and there was a dull ache in your muscles, but now at least you were warm.

           “Thank you,” you murmured.  

           He gave a nod in acknowledgement before taking a place beside Doctor Strange.

          Strange hadn’t left your side since the moment that thing had been ripped out of your body.  He stood across from you now, with his arms folded and his eyes never straying.

           “Are you sure you’re not in any pain,” he insisted.  “Demons are notorious for riding hard on their vessels.”

           Demons.  You had been hearing that word more in the last hour than you had in your entire life.

           The thing that had been inside you, that was a demon.  It had taken control of your limbs and pushed your mind into a black cavernous hole which seemed to pull you deeper into its depths the more you fought it. It had picked part your memories as if shuffling through a catalogue, making you feel every moment with the same intensity as it had felt then. It had pulled on your muscles and bone, bending it to accommodate its shape and need. You could still feel the remains inside you.  It’s wants, and fears, and memories left a scar on your mind.  If you closed your eyes too long, you could see the world it had so desperately crawled out of.

           Your hands were shaking again.

           “Right,” you whispered.  “Demons. Of course, everyone knows that.”

           You started to rise the tea to you lips once more when you caught the sound of rustling fabric behind you.  You turned your head to catch a red cloak place itself on your shoulders.  Your eyes went wide as your heart rate spiked.  You didn’t know whether to run or scream.

           “It won’t hurt you,” Strange said, quickly.

           You stared at him in disbelief but were surprised when the cloak wrapped itself around you. The ends of the fabric rubbed reassuring circles into your sides, nuzzling you like an affectionate cat. You started to relax again, even as your mind reeled at the idea of a sentient bit of cloth.

           “Um, thank you,” you said, speaking as best you could toward the collar.

           The cloak responded by gently nestling against your cheek before settling to a comfortable position.

           In lack of any other way to respond, you let out a strangled laugh.

          “Okay,” you said, trying to get a hold of yourself, “break it down for me one more time.”

           “You were possessed by a demon,” Strange said, in a tone which was far too calm for your taste.

           “Right,” you said. You took another breath, letting it out slowly.  “And this demon is a herald to a god called the Unnamed One.”

           “Correct.”

           You nodded.  That part you had managed to understand.  Between your profession and the fact, Thor, the literal god of Thunder, had come to earth to fight an alien invasion, the idea of pagan gods existing wasn’t a difficult concept to grasp.  It was the next leap in logic which took a toll on you.

           “And it came here because you guys, are wizards.”

           “The preferred term is Master of the Mystic Arts,” Strange corrected, sounding genuinely annoyed with the confusion.

           “So, wizards.”

           He opened his mouth to rebuttal, but Wong quickly cut him off.

          “Dorgrath was looking for something,” he said. “From what it said, chances are the piece you used to bring it to this realm was not powerful enough to summon the rest of the Unnamed One’s followers.”

           “Clearly,” you said, dryly.  You didn’t know whether Wong’s matter of fact tone about gods and demons was a good or bad. On the one hand in meant he and Strange knew what they were doing.  On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel as if you had stumbled in on some great secret every else in the world was in on besides you.

          You took another sip of your tea, willing it to calm you.  The cloak gave your whole body a soft squeeze.  It was certainly odd, but you felt comforted by the gesture.

           “Can it find a way back?” you asked.

           “So long as nobody else reads the ritual aloud, I would think not,” Strange said. “Just to be safe, we should go back to the museum and collect what else we can of the statue and anything else related to the Unnamed One.  Maybe put a seal around the building as well, just to be safe.”

           You nodded in understanding.  The idea of a magical seal was still a hair away from your comprehension, but the rest you could manage.  Anything pertaining to the Unnamed One had to be contained.  The Sanctum seemed just as safe a place as any.

           “Alright.  Let’s go.”

           You rose to your feet.  The idea of being able to do something tangibly useful was enough to keep you steady. The cloak left your shoulders and you marched towards the door.

           “Wait, where do you think you’re going?” Strange asked.  

           You stopped in confusion and turned to him. “You said we needed to collect everything from the museum.”

           “We, meaning me and Wong,” he said, slowly.

           Your brows furrowed.  You didn’t like where this conversation was headed.

           “You don’t even know what you’re looking for.”

           “I think we have a better idea than you.”

           “So, what am I supposed to do?”

            “Go home,” he said. “Get some sleep and pretend this never happened.”

           His tone was gentle but left little room for debate.  You imagined, under different circumstances, the look on his face alone would be enough to convince you.

          For a long moment, you stood in silence. Then slowly, you began to shake your head.

           “I can’t do that.”

           “Try,” he insisted. “You don’t want to get more involved than you already have.”

           “What if I do?”

           Strange stared at you is disbelief, before shaking his own head.  “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

           “Maybe not, but I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

           “This isn’t a negotiation.”  

           “I can’t just forget!” you snapped.  “Don’t you understand? I’m not in Kansas anymore.  I’m in Oz. The world is in technicolor. The Wicked Witch is dead. There are ruby slippers on my feet and I can’t just click my heels three times and go home!”  

           You were breathing hard now, as your whole body vibrated by the release of pent up energy.

           For his part, Strange’s expression remained unreadable, if not a little confused.

          “Okay, bad metaphor, but you know what I’m saying,” you mumbled, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment as you realized what you had actually said.

          The man let out a long sigh, seeming to look anywhere but in your direction.

          “Look, this is my mess,” you continued. “Let me fix it.  Teach me how to fix it.”  

          He finally looked at you.  For a moment, you thought maybe you had won. He took a small step closer to you.  His eyes softened, and his mouth began to open as if to say something, but he stopped himself.  His body tensed, his lip tightened, and his head began to shake.

           “No. You have to go home.”

           He took a step back, lifting his hands and turning one of them in a circle through the air.  

           “Doctor you can’t just—”

           You couldn’t even finish your sentence as the floor literally dropped out from under you.  You fell through the air for a moment only to land hard on your back.  Looking up you saw a circle of sparking orange light revealing the ceiling of the Sanctum, with Strange standing above you.  Before you could even comprehend what had just happened, the circle disappeared.

          With an effort, you lifted yourself by your elbows.  A quick look around showed you were laying on the sidewalk just in front of 177a Bleecker Street.

          Deciding not to question it, you scrambled to your feet and bounded up the steps to the doorway.  

           “Doctor Strange!” you yelled.

           There was no answer.  You stared to pound on the door, uncaring if you upset the neighbors.

           “Doctor Strange!” you called again. “Doctor Strange, open the door!”

           Again, there was nothing.  You kept at it anyway.  You couldn’t be locked out now.  You weren’t going to let it end this way.

          Your muffled hammering made its way all the way to the Sanctum library.  A part of Strange felt guilty, but he couldn’t allow himself to give into the feeling.  He had made the right decision.

          “That was a very stupid thing to do,” Wong said.

          Strange turned to the man, with narrowed eyes.  “Excuse me?”

           “You’ve been standing by the door for weeks, waiting for that girl to come walking in, and the moment she does, you shove her back out the door.”

           “She didn’t come in,” he countered. “A demon used her as a meat suit and broke in. Or did you somehow miss that?”  

            Wong shrugged. “However, it happened.  It happened. She’s here and wants to learn.  Are you really going to turn her away?”

           “Yes.”

           He then walked away, effectively ending the conversation.

          Going down the line of shelves, he pulled random books off the shelf and started flipping through, looking for any mention of the Unnamed One.  He hoped Wong would take the hint, but he had no such luck.  

           “Why?” Wong persisted. “You saw how she was able to withstand Dorgrath’s influence. That proves a strong will. She has potential.”

           “All the more reason to say no.”  

           Wong let out a breath of frustration. “I do not understand you.”

           “She has a life out there,” Strange said, sharply. “If she goes back now, she can still have it.  She doesn’t know what she’d be giving up, or what she’d be fighting.”

           “I think she has a better idea than you did, when you came to us.”

           Strange’s brow furrowed in confusion. He looked up, finally meeting the other man’s eyes.  

          “Dorgrath opened the door to her memories,” Wong explained. “It was how he was able to find this place.  But, it’s important to understand, doors open both ways.”

          Strange’s eyes widened at the implication.  A twisting guilt settled in his stomach.  He could only imagine what Dorgrath’s realm must be like.  For that to be your introduction into this world, it was a wonder you didn’t run for the hills, let alone ask to stay.

          “It’s ultimately your decision Strange,” Wong said. “But, perhaps, you should trust her to make that choice herself.”

           You didn’t know how long you were out there. You had long since given up on knocking and had resigned yourself to sitting against the door.  Somebody had to come out sometime, it was just a matter of waiting.  

           You did your best not to close your eyes.  In the silence of the night street, all you had was your mind, and your mind wasn’t being especially kind to you. Flashes of fire, suffocating darkness, and large yellow eyes threatened to overwhelm you.  

          It isn’t real.  It isn’t even your mind. You know your own mind.

          You repeated the words back to yourself over and over again.  You were so focused on the thought, you didn’t hear the door click open behind you.

          Once again, the door gave out from under you.  You feel back into the foyer, to find yourself looking up at a floating red cloak.

           “Hello there,” you greeted.

           The cloak gave you a little wave.  You couldn’t say why, but the gesture brought a smile to your face.  

          Without prompting, it floated down and helped push you to your feet.  

          “I feel like I keep thanking you,” you said, brushing yourself off.

          The cloak merely shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t a big deal.  

           “It likes you,” a voice said.  

          You and the cloak both turned to see Strange leaning against the bannister.  His expression was much calmer than it was before, as a small smile graced his lips.

          “That’s no easy feat.”

          You glanced at the cloak, unsure of what to make of it or the statement, before turning back to Strange.

           “It’s got good instincts,” you said, with reservations.

           The cloak didn’t have a response as it floated away from you, and settled itself on Strange’s shoulders.  You wanted to ask more questions about the sentient outerwear, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

          “You aren’t going to use your portal hands on me again, are you?” you asked.

           “Actually, I used a sling ring,” Strange corrected. “And, no, I’m not.”

           A thought seemed to strike him, as his eyes darted between you and the door.

          “Have you been out there this whole time?”

          You glanced back as well, feeling a heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks.

           “Maybe,” you said, defensively. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

           “I’m starting to see that.”

           A small silence fell between you.  It didn’t hold the same tension as before.  In not so many words, you could feel Strange’s attempt to offer the olive branch.  Tentatively, you decided to test your luck.

           “Look, I’m not asking you to teach me everything if you don’t want to,” you said, carefully. “I just want to know enough, to keep myself and others safe. I’m not going to put my life on hold, but, if something like this happens again, I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.  Believe it or not, I’d rather not have the apocalypse on my hands.”

           Strange didn’t say anything for a long while.  He seemed to be carding through your words, attempting to find something he could object to or rebuke.

          You held your breath.

          Then, slowly, he let out a sigh, and nodded his head.

          “I suppose that’s fair.” He stood straighter then, meeting your gaze head on. “Alright, self-defense only. You still work on your dissertation, and you don’t quit your job.  The moment you slip behind on any of it, you’re done.  Do you understand?”

          Your brain took a moment to fully comprehend his words, thankfully your voice was in perfect working order.

           “Absolutely,” you said.  “Whatever you say.”

           Strange seemed satisfied with your answer, as he gave a look of approval.  

          A smile started to spread across your face.  A thrill you hadn’t felt in years electrified your blood as a whole new world of possibilities flooded your imagination.  

          “So, when do we start?”

           “Tomorrow,” Strange said. “You still need to go home and get some sleep.  It’s well almost two in the morning.”

           You blinked in surprise.  Was it only two o’clock?  So much had happened, the concept of time had completely eluded you.  As if waiting for reassurance it was allowed to be exhausted, your eyelids began to feel heavy along with the rest of your limbs.  

           “I suppose you’re right,” you admitted.  You started to think about how you were going to get home, when a sudden sinking thought occurred to you.

          “Oh no.”

           “What?” Strange asked.

           You heart rate started to spike as you felt as if the floor dropped from under your stomach.

           “The security footage,” you said quickly.  “It caught me taking pieces from the tomb.  If anyone in the museum finds them missing, I’m going to be fired. I going to get kicked out of university.  Oh God! I could go to jail!”

           Your head was starting to go fuzzy and your breath became quickly shallow. Strange was by your side in a moment, his hands gripping your arms to hold you up right.

           “It’s alright,” he assured. He leaned down a bit, making sure you kept your eyes on him. “Hey, breath.  I’ll figure something out.  You’re not going to get fired.  I promise.”

           You took deep breaths, feeling yourself calm a little at his words.  He spoke them so clearly, it was hard not to believe him.  After a little while, you were back in control of your body.

           “Okay,” you said, with a nod.

           Strange smiled in response, but that smile quickly grew into a low chuckle.

          “Why are you laughing?” you asked.

           “Nothing,” he said, getting a grip on himself.  “I just think you were more freaked out over the idea of getting fired than the demon possession.”

           You felt as if you should had been insulted, but all you wanted to do was laugh.

           “Oh, this is nothing,” you said, dryly. “You should have seen me during finals week junior year.”

           Strange broke again, causing you to laugh as well.  You hadn’t realized just how much you had needed it.

           Eventually, Strange calmed down once more.  His eyes grew more serious as he watched your features carefully.

           “Are you alright,” he asked, in a tone which could only produce an honest response.  

           “I will be,” you assured.

           He nodded, giving you a small smile.  

           You matched it easily, feeling a peace come over you, you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.  It was then you noticed, his hands were still holding your arms. A different heat spread up you neck, as you slowly took a step back.

          “I probably should go home, though,” you said.

          If Strange had noticed the odd moment that had passed between you, he didn’t show it.  

           “Where do you live?” he asked.

           You told him the address, and a small smirk formed on his lips.  Stepping back, he waved his hands in that circular motion, opening a portal.  On the other side, was the front door of your apartment building.

           “Faster than a cab,” Strange said.

           You weren’t sure whether to laugh or be annoyed by his smugness and ended up somewhere in the middle with a smile and an eyeroll.

           “Show off.”

           The man only winked, before gesturing you to the portal.

          Still not believing your eyes, you started to walk forward.  But, before you could step through, you stopped, and looked back at Strange.  

           “I’m not going to wake up in the morning and think this was all a dream, am I?”

           Strange considered your question, with an odd look.  

           “You might,” he said.  “I guess that means you’ll just have to show up tomorrow and find out.”

Permanent Tag List: @sassy-satanunicorns, @roseslovedreams, @stargeek727, @kaliforniacoastalteens, @yourwonderbelle, @steve-thotgers, @stellasakura31

Doctor Strange Tag List: @siriuslovesmarlene, @cobalt-one, @independentideals, @letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse, @cinnabearice, @queen-maximoff, @quicksilverslover, @yana-versio, @megaburrito2, @hostofthefirenation, @lady-sigyn, @sekhmet5, @somethingwickedthiswaylives, @kheartmoblie

Story Tag List: @krylo-rxn, @racheltheclumsy, @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13, @claraarthurton, @not-reptilian, @writingwithadinosaur, @bananathecow, @sugacoatedsoul, @denyeverything1

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Paige you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Augustus Rookwood.

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Welcome back Paige! To hear from you was such a pleasant surprise and to have you back is even better! We never know what Augustus is going to do and that’s what makes him so great! He’s complex and interesting and we’re ready to have him back on the dash!

application beneath the cut 

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Paige, 25, she/her, EST. I’m from Tennessee in the United States!

ACTIVITY

I’m currently having to share a laptop with my mom, and Chronic Fatigue keeps me pretty dead for most of the day, but I plan to get online at least once daily to reply to anything I owe. So 5/10 maybe? I mean, I’m ALWAYS available via chat though, to plot or just talk.

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

Originally, Alexis, your former (original?) Rabastan. Then I was here for months, left, returned for a year, left, and I’m baaaaaaaaack! Lol You know I can’t stay away from my trash son.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

In the past, I said Hermione without hesitation. I was always the one who felt a bit left out when new to a school, the one who lived to make teachers happy, and was a little too weird to make friends on my own without an intervening force. However, now I would say Minerva. In my friend group, I tend to be “mom”. I use logic and my mediating skills to make sure everyone stays out of too much trouble, work on guiding them through tough situations, and I always offer snacks when someone is upset. Also, cats are my life, and if I could become one, I would. Though even with the benefit of magic, the process would be incredibly complicated and I’m super lazy.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Augustus Rookwood.

Middle name: Xavier.

Name’s full meaning: Majestic, splendid, bird/forest

FACE CLAIM

Daniel Sharman

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

What I put in my first apps: I’ve always been drawn to the darker characters. Especially the ones who appear very controlled when in the public eye, and then “let loose” when they’re behind closed doors. Then there was mention of his family basically putting him on a pedestal. I’ve always loved (and had a muse for) characters that have a little too much responsibility put on their shoulders by their parents, and then begin to crack under the pressure in highly destructive ways.

Augustus seems like the type of person who originally started out trying to be the best son he could be. Who nodded and smiled at his parents’ plans for his future, worked his hardest in school, and then one day realized there was someone out there (The Dark Lord) to whom he could devote himself, and not have to be so perfect and “good”.

Which is why he will last in this war. No one suspects the “good little quiet boy” who kept his nose in his books, and his potentially deadly spells to himself. Not even the Dark Lord wanted him at first. Not until Augustus showed him exactly what he was capable of, behind a locked door, when everyone else was out trying to make as much noise for their cause as possible.

Now that he has an excuse to use the dark skills he’s kept to himself for years, Augustus kills when asked to and tortures just for the fun of it. However, he draws the line at children, and will convince another member of the group to kill/torture them when sent to “take care of” an entire family. He can’t exactly explain why he’s protective of children, or why that mindset changes as soon as they’ve reached an age when they can defend themselves. Perhaps it’s just too easy, and he likes a challenge.

Now that I’ve actually played him: He evolved over time and his ability to suppress his emotions slipped drastically depending on who he was with. There were far more bad influences than good ones, and soon, a few too many people knew his secrets and he was caught. Since then, he has retreated back into himself as much, if not more than before, and mainly focuses on his job and making the Dark Lord proud. And God, he feels like screaming every minute of every day. As the climax of the war draws nearer, situations become more and more tense. The whispers behind his back make his skin crawl, and although he knows he will be protected if he lashes out, he swallows his curses like acid. He was betrayed once, and won’t let it happen again.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Preferred ships? Augustus/everyone, to be honest. Augustus will have sex with anyone. Long time friends, people he wants to manipulate, strangers, whatever. Sex isn’t tied to emotion for him. It is purely the pursuit of pleasure. Hell, he would probably have sex with the Dark Lord without even being commanded to do so. Because yolo? But romance is an entirely different animal. It requires trust and emotional connection and way too much of oneself. Therefore, Augustus has only felt such a connection once, and he’s not sure he wants to repeat it. However, he could easily be in a relationship or marriage with someone out of convenience or friendship. Though no monogamy or cute stuff unless pretending for the public. He thinks it would be selfish to tie someone down like that if he can’t offer them what they need emotionally.

Overall, Augustus identifies as an aromantic pansexual (though those labels aren’t exactly a thing in the 70s/80s), as a cis male (he/him/his). There has been some gender experimentation with polyjuice potion, but that was purely for fun.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Patronus: Lynx. (Lore states that the secretive lynx represents controlled power, individualism, and sharp-sightedness. Lynx people are generally exceedingly observant, quiet, intelligent, and curious. Though their independent nature can strike some as aloof, they are often excellent guides and steadfast friends.) Boggart: Someone outing him for what he’s done. Such as, a member of the Wizengamot reading a list of his crimes. Wand: Hazel (Wandlore states that “A sensitive wand, hazel often reflects its owner’s emotional state, and works best for a master who understands and can manage their own feelings.”), 10 inches, Dragon heartstring core, Unyielding.

Blog: http://avgvstvs.tumblr.com

LINK TO VISUAL AESTHETIC

Brief playlist: “Choke” - I Don’t Know How But They Found Me, “Strangers” - Halsey (ft. Lauren Jauregui), “Run” - AWOLNATION, “The Last One” - Black Veil Brides

Aesthetic: On one hand, he’s a smoking gun, hands dripping with blood, wet leather after a surprise storm, teeth on pale skin, the way a bottle of alcohol holds the scent when empty, skin rubbed against a rough brick wall, and sins in hallowed places. But then he’s also the smell of old books, chalk covered hands from solving impossible problems, secrets whispered to empty rooms, lies screamed into crowded places, nails digging into palms, tantrums behind locked doors, cold chains, hot coffee, lightning and hurricanes. But then as an Unspeakable, there’s all this mystery surrounding his job, and the strict rules he must follow.  So order and perfection. But as a Death Eater, there’s all this chaos and mess. Augustus in school was far different. Sweaters with sleeves a little too long, glasses to read that kept slipping off, smudged parchment, top marks hidden from fellow students, praise from teachers sounding too much like the praise from his parents, the death of a sibling and the expectation to immediately get over it, sitting in windows and watching the world move too fast. Everything was perfectly imperfect, and he did everything he could to grasp and absorb the chaos around him, and hold it tight.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “I would not invent my own. I would simply rework the pre-existing Obliviate and make it much more permanent and impossible to reverse. The incantation would be obliviscaris in perpetuum (forget forever) and it would be invaluable for those who wish to use it on victims, or for those who have something traumatic or highly sensitive in their past that they’d rather forget..”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: “I would choose to take the Dark Lord with me, obviously, despite him never being one to follow someone else. His powers surpass anything the forest could throw at us. Also, I would bring a time-turner with me, due to its ability to help me return to any moment before I run into trouble, and allow me to take a different path.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? “Those that require me to go against my deceitful nature and be completely honest with people. Like, a decision that if I am being truthful, would end my carefully constructed public image.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “I would never want someone accusing me of something, whether I did the deed or not. How I spend my time is an entirely private matter, and I would rather not have others prying into my life, no matter what they believe I have done.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

While Augustus is glad that the Ministry is fully within the clutches of the Dark Lord’s side, he disagrees with the eradication of non-purebloods. He has never been a blood purest due to his childhood as an outcast and the discovery that those with colorful family trees tend to be the kindest. And after his time spent in America surrounded by Muggles, Augustus doesn’t really give a shit who your parents are. He plans to do almost everything he can to avoid a total genocide. Sure, murder and mayhem are fun, but one must draw a line at the slaughter of friends. Perhaps. While he has no plans to actively work against his fellow Death Eaters, he will not turn down direct orders. And for now, his orders are to stay focused on his work in the Department Of Mysteries. He has a plan for The Dark Lord that only someone who works in the Love Chamber can properly research.

WRITING SAMPLE

Augustus hadn’t been in this to make friends. Since childhood he’d fully accepted that he was born to be a loner. Besides, everyone else just got in his way. But as he sat, with cold metal chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, clinking every time he tried (and failed) to find a more comfortable position, he felt truly and utterly alone. For the first time in his life, he began wishing there was someone by his side. Anyone, really. Just another warm body to deflect some of the angry, betrayed looks coming from the seats in which sat the Wizengamot and others. At that point, he would have even accepted a few of his least favorite acquaintances.

Unfortunately, everyone he knew was either dead, in Azkaban, or in the audience, watching with bated breath. This trial was one that had brought out spectators from every department of the Ministry. NO ONE had suspected the quiet wizard who went directly to and from the Department Of Mysteries every day, never making enemies or even standing out very much. He’d played his role perfectly. Even now, he kept his true self behind a facade, acting the part of the wrongly accused. Because he truly intended to leave the trial a free man. What good was the word of Karkaroff against his? The headmaster of a foreign school known to breed dark wizards, against a ‘friend’ of many at the Ministry? He’d spent countless hours cultivating false relationships with these people, earning their trust, and then gathering secrets. And until his name was spat by Karkaroff, it hadn’t so much as flashed through people’s minds. Not since he was pardoned all those years ago after his interrogation at the hands of Aversio.

The questions were easily answered with lies, and he even asked some of his own. “Where were you on the night of (…)?” “Where was I? Where were your Aurors? How could you let this happen?” “Who else answers to He Who Must Not Be Named?” “Clearly you’re bringing anyone in these days. If I pointed at any of you, would you put them on trial too?” Until the lies weren’t enough to get him released, and a vial of Veritaserum was brought out.

Rookwood started to sweat in that moment. His breath became ragged and his hands began to violently shake. If he was being honest with himself, he would have realized that it was sheer terror he was experiencing. As the potion was carried across the room and uncorked, he’d half expected someone to burst into the room and save him. The other part of him knew his entire life was about to change for the worse. Even as the liquid was forced into his mouth, possible scenarios of escape danced through his mind. If only the chains were slightly loose. Maybe one of his fellow Death Eaters sat amongst the crowd. Yaxley? Cassius? Dolores? Perhaps someone would have a sudden change of heart and remember how impossible it seemed for him to be a part of this. But alas, the chains were magic, all of his comrades had already been captured or killed, and after the trial of Barty Crouch Jr., no one trusted even the least suspicious person.

And then words were spilling past his lips, almost too fast, with the sting of Veritaserum still on his tongue. When asked about his dealings with the Death Eaters, he held nothing back, despite the deep ache within his very soul that got stronger with each new thing he revealed. Both the Wizengamot and the audience gasped as he told details of the lives he’d destroyed. How he’d stalked several entire families before torturing and killing them. The bodies he’d left in alleyways. The memories he’d stolen from those he’d left bloody and beaten. The way it made him feel when people begged. He told them it was an almost sexual satisfaction, and the Veritaserum-induced smirk that went along with his words must have been the final nail in his coffin, because the trial ended swiftly after that.

Augustus was forced to watch as his beloved wand was snapped in half in front of him, and he was immediately taken to a cold, damp room where an elderly wizard stripped him of his fine, embroidered robes and a pair of striped, dirty ones were shoved into his hands. He would be taking a portkey to Azkaban directly from that room, without a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Not that he cared very much for anyone in his life, especially those not currently residing in the prison he was destined for, but it was all very sudden. Like a flower being plucked from a vast garden and shoved into a dusty old vase, just waiting to die.

And in this little vase of his, he was alone.

[pickupthepen]

Grateful

There’s always that thing when I’m writing something new. That “thing” pretty demonstratively says “things” to me like “don’t say it in that way” and “make that different”. It thinks about the people that I don’t want to read this and wonder certain things about me. Specific people, yes. It thinks about the people that I do want to read this and think that I have finally figured it out. What if I mentioned that person’s name? What if I told you the truth about that story about that thing that wasn’t as cool or dramatic as I would like you, specifically, to believe when you read it? What if I kept out the details that were actually wild, dark and uncomfortable? How am I ever going to write something worth reading if everything I put down is contrived bullshit?

I do it in private, too. I write words with my pen, in my journal, that I know I’ll never let your eyes touch, and I still alter what I put down. This makes me think of my gratitude lists. What happens when I tweak them to make it seem like I have a lot of great things going on, instead of the things that I am genuinely, honestly grateful for. Every day, I write down in a little booklet that my ex gave me (I crossed her name out where she said “To Casey with love”. Lie. I crossed out the word “love”). What happens when the surprise that I write is that I saw someone I haven’t seen in a while, and not that I forgot something at work and it took me by surprise to have to deal with the aftermath of my mistake? What happens when I write that I was surprised that the sunset was orange today, and not that a friend looked at me and cried, and I experienced a new moment of compassion that actually surprised me, and I cried back? What happens when I don’t give my words everything inside of me?

They’re fucking lame. 

So- to get back on track with you, I want you to know that if you’re reading this, no matter who you are, you will read the same words whether you are my family member, my friend that sits close, my friend that I watch from afar, an actual spiritual or professional adviser of mine, a person that I want to think some thing about me, a person that I don’t a give a shit what you think, a coworker, someone I barely know, someone I don’t know, or someone that I want to know in all ways. And what you will get is the truth, as if you weren’t reading my words at all. All of this started so that I could break the harness around myself that keeps me in the dark from you- that gets to accuse you of thinking you know me when you “absolutely cannot”. So if it concerns you in any molecular way: this is my annual release.

To you: 

I did write a gratitude list tonight. I was panicking about my world that seriously feels like it’s crumbling around me and I remembered that sometimes counting up the good things is a great way to shift my gaze from all that is dissolving to all that is left. But it begged the question of how earnest I am approaching these “lists”. 

I’m not grateful for coffee- I just like it... a lot. I’m not grateful for music and concerts. I am genuinely grateful for my friends- but not all of them. I’m grateful for the real ones- the ones that stick around when who I am is not pretty. I’m not grateful for having the things that people tell me are the “wonderful things”. Sure, I get to travel a lot, but you don’t see the nights that I cry in my hotel room because I am so deeply lonely. Yeah, I have a home base in California, but I miss my brother. Mhmm, I have the means to dress nicely and eat white table lunches with fancy friends, but sometimes all I crave is to be eating Chinese food on the couch with my best friend while I bat away her big eyed black cat. You- I wonder if you understand that not all is as it seems. 

Most of the time, I’m not even grateful for sobriety, and yet it hits the last line every single day. But you know what? Being able to enjoy a glass of wine with my mother on a rainy Sunday afternoon sounds fucking fantastic, and I can’t do it. Not having to wake up and declare how I will be of service to others sounds really relaxing. Not having to meditate and pray to a Universe I don’t understand seems more “normal”, but I do it every day. And no, it’s not because I think that an awakened life is more magical than a glass of wine on a Friday night- it’s because if I have that glass of wine I will inevitably attempt to destroy myself, so I do this so I can keep surviving, because I still believe that I want to survive more than I want to escape. And it’s not more complicated or honest than that. A glass of red wine and I cannot coexist, and in some moments, that is nothing but sad. And you, if you believe that it isn’t true that people like me burn in the fire of alcohol’s blaze if we come close, I wonder if you’re as blind as those who believe that existing in a world as an “other” is inherently superior, and that this is never to be questioned. 

I’m not grateful that I’m wandering alone again. I guess I am happy to have an opportunity to explore a familiar new world of unknowing and curiosity, confusion, potential, but how many times in the past year did I forget to acknowledge that running around as a young, single woman, away from her family with no real home and no real sense of stillness is terrifying? How many times did I write in my book that a blank slate sometimes seems as white and as bleak as purgatory? Even though I wasn’t courageous enough to write it down- it’s why I went back to that old love over and over. I’m not grateful to her for releasing me- I’m not ready to give that to her yet. I’m not comfortable with the idea that when we finally walk away from the pieces of glass on the floor, bloodied and cut, despite all the help we receive, the walk is taken alone and the person who promised to walk beside us doesn’t come. I’m not grateful for all endings, because although I do understand that insufficiency must end to begin moving toward the greater good, it’s an awfully big pill to swallow to come to terms with the fact that we can love someone to the depths of our core, and they can leave whenever they want, for whatever reason they want, and they owe us nothing. Damn. And you, if you don’t already understand that not only is it inevitable that we carry pieces of these things with us, and that it is perfectly fucking fine, I beg of you to entertain the notion that maybe grief and rage live in our rib cage longer than we’d nobly expect, that it’s not always a choice, and perhaps there is nothing to be done about it- especially not feeble attempts at being grateful for the “bright side”. 

I’m not grateful that I spend most weekends attempting to catch up on work that slipped between my fingers during the week. I’m not grateful that sometimes my best attempt at getting freedom is to spend money to do something fun and then allowing my internal dictator to sentence punishment for having spent money that could have been better placed in something more reasonable. I’m not always grateful for reason, and I do not believe being reasonable is the superior virtue as a rule. I also do not believe that I am somehow less capable of living a sustainable, fulfilling life because the practical elements of this world aren’t as interesting to me as the fantastical ones. I’m not grateful that I practice countless hours every week in therapy, in twelve stepping and in spirituality and purpose, and the road keeps revealing itself to be windier and longer and steeper. I’m not grateful for the hard curves because they’re supposed to somehow make the exciting peaks more justifiably exhilarating. I don’t think that I have to be grateful for the things that are dismal, sludgy and lonely, because they, according to someone, mean something positive about this life. In a matter of fact, blunt way, life is sometimes unforgiving and cruel, and that’s that. But now I’m in dark imaginings, so now I will make one more attempt at being truly honest. This is my very long winded approach at telling you what I have been grateful for today (or the shittiest, chattiest gratitude list you’ve ever gotten), and maybe, because I adore you so very much, I’ll tell you the truth.

I am grateful for:

1. My best friend. Hey Caroline, if you’re reading this, I’m not fucking sorry that you’re right on the top. I’m grateful that I can express adoration at every whim, and my love is received and reciprocated, if even with a joke. This is a friendship that was born in solidarity and one moment of vulnerability, and I’m fucking grateful that as years pass and after countless phone calls, missed phone calls, conversations in parking lots, tears, wheezing laughter, commitment, dedication, and really weirdly unconditional love, I’m only more sure that I was supposed to know you, and that you were supposed to know me, too. Even if there may be no such thing as the divine or fate, then I am at peace because I have luck... and I have you.

2. Freedom- that I reserve the right to make any choice I want, and that there are always choices to be made. Being “stuck” is an illusion. There is always another way. There is always another job, another home, another love, another friend, another place to leave and another place to arrive, and the choices we make to go here and there, they know no limits in time or quantity. I can change my mind whenever I want, and when the moment is right, or not quite right yet, or really wildly wrong, I can make whatever choice I think I need to make, and ALL will be well with me, with you, and with the world around us. Eventually at least.

3. That I don’t know shit- that I can’t actually tell the future. That every day I could actually be shattered by surprise- good or bad. And not that I don’t still want to read your tarot cards (I kind of don’t, but I will if it’s important to you), but a deck of cards can’t predict that you’re going to get a raise next month, and writing a relationship ideal can’t actually manifest the perfect dude with perfect eyes that understands everything about you, and writing a list of all your fears won’t protect you from encountering them, and thinking about all the things you want and don’t want won’t change what you fuckin’ get. Meditation can’t force you to have zero reaction at work next week when that problematic man ridicules you in front of your team, or next month in the middle of a Saturday run because grief for lost friends doesn’t send warnings when it wants to swallow you whole. You will be surprised- there are things coming that will bring you joy that you have never known, and there are things coming that will just shy of kill you in every possible way, and you don’t know anything about when or why or how. If that’s not beautiful, lovely and exciting, then what fucking is?

4. My people- I cannot express my bewilderment at the actual fact that I have friends that not only understand what type of human being I am in every city in the United States that I have visited, but that they understand because they are like me. They seek me out in the same way I seek them. We are looking for the same companionship. It’s fucking magical to miss the girls in San Antonio that I met years ago. It’s wildly lovely to be able show up for tacos in Denver with those who I have known since I arrived in this place, and to feel like I’ve been here the whole time. It’s unimaginable to me that friends in San Francisco call when I’ve been gone and ask that I come home, because I’m missed. And how could I express enough gratitude when I show up to dinner in Atlanta after having my heart broken, because the ones that gave me a home and life when I crawled to their door still remember how much we love each other? I can’t, but I’ll try. 

5. My love- the way I love you. The way I love this life. The way I love my friends so purely, for every flaw and magical piece of each of their souls. The way I love my brother, and how I adore everything that he is. The way I love dogs, art, and seeing people laugh until they cry. I’m grateful for the fact that I long for those that I love, and when I finally reunite with them, I embrace them with my mind, my heart and my arms. I am grateful, not ashamed, for the way I love in romance and friendship- it’s a love that is accepting, forgiving, vulnerable, and a little outlandish. And although I’m not exactly grateful for the ones who left, or the ones who took advantage of the painstaking way I fight for the love between us, I am grateful to know that every time I choose to open the doors again, my capacity has not dwindled or lessened in quality, and I am only ever more generous with what I have to give, more in touch with everything that I feel, and more in love with my own lovely little heart. I am sorry, though, to everyone who I beg to play with my hair. Actually, no, I’m not. Play with my hair.

5. Robi Feliz Saphyra- Every single day, I am remembered, and I remember her.

6. Second chances- but hear me out. It’s not about the promises or being present. It’s not about being a better person or not being a shit show anymore, it’s not even about survival- I’d be mirroring a message from others if I were to say that were true for me, and that’s not what I’m here for. It’s about that bonus round that Norman talks about. When I sat in that cold chair in the church that first Monday night, I had no idea that I was actually pressing the “reset” button. I genuinely anticipated not surviving my twenties, and with good reason. That room was the last corner on the block for me and the dead body I dragged in there, and everything, everything, magical and wonderful and wild that I count of importance has happened between that night and now. 

In this second life, I have known a pain that is richer than any I have ever experienced, and a joy that is deeper than any I ever thought I could. I have learned what it means to be a spiritual being, to be an artist, to have a true friend, and to be a true friend. I have begun a lifetime of healing and thriving. This bonus round has given life and rebirth to the woman I was always meant to be, and I’m not only grateful to have evaded a hopeless future, but that angels in the form of the women who surround me have kept me safe and taught me how to walk again. 

7. Last, I am grateful for you. This is my midnight flare- a signal that wonders if anyone else has ever felt the same- if anyone else is out there. And if there’s any chance that you’ve stumbled into this weird, crazy fucking blog of mine, then you’ve caught the flame. I’m grateful that in this moment, wherever you are,  however the time and whatever it is that makes you tick or is eating you alive, we’re here, you and I, and that’s all that there is. 

Best wishes.

[milkyytae]

Tears from the sky~Prologue

(gif isn’t mine credit to owner) 

Hi! :D 

So I have no idea where this story idea came from, it’s kind of different from my two other fics and I’m not really sure how you guys will like it. ^^’ 

Don’t hesitate to give me some feedback because  I’m really uncertain about this :3

-3 436

angst/ fluff (slight mentions of smut)

Pairing: Reader x Jimin + Reader x Taehyung 

Genre: Magical AU

~You have a peaceful life with your boyfriend Jimin but strange things keep occurring..~

masterlist - requests 

You both hit your high as Jimin plunged into you once more, sending ripples of electricity down your spine. You both collapsed onto the bed when he pulled out his slowly softening length out of your warm juices. You had been dating Jimin for 6 months now. You had never been happier, he was the one you had been waiting for you were sure of it. You thought about how much you loved him as he took you into his sweaty embrace and whispered the sweet “I love you” you enjoyed hearing fall from his soft lips that you kissed eagerly mumbling against him the same words over and over. You had met at college, he was a friend of your friends and you had slowly fallen for each other, before you actually having the guts to ask him out. It was a classic romance, the type you would hear of over and over again, but the relationship you had with Jimin was different to the ones you had with your last couple of boyfriends, you felt complete with him by your side. After a while of cuddling, you got up. It was almost 10 am and you had to go to work. You loved your work, you were in a library surrounded by books most of the day which was all you ever wanted from a job but leaving Jimin was always hard. He whined as you scrambled out of bed, giving him a last peck before leaving to the shower. You didn’t have to undress since Jimin had already taken care of that and stepped in with only your necklace on. You never took it off, never. It once was your mother’s, but she had given it to you before you left to study in the city.  It meant a great deal to her, she had always worn it and the only time she had taken it off was to give it to you. You thought about her smile and blue eyes as you traced the silver moon in between your fingers. You missed her.

You got out and wrapped yourself in your towel only to find that the door was wide open, you chuckled, “Jimin you could just have joined me instead of opening the door!”  

“What are you talking about?” he asked confused.

You entered the room in search of clothes and he was still where you had left him.

“Didn’t you open the bathroom door?” you cocked an eyebrow not quite believing what he was saying.

“No I swear I stayed right here, and you’re right if I had gone to the bathroom I would have joined you in there, but that’s why I stayed here otherwise you would’ve been late for work.” he smirked.

You threw him a t-shirt in the face “I CAN RESIST YOUR CHARMS PARK JIMIN!”

“Not so sure about that.” he teased.

You ignored him trying not to get distracted by his bare skin showing from under the sheets.

You had your usual morning breakfast together and you left the flat with a smile on your face, like most mornings.

Your car had changed spot again. You had talked about it to Jimin but after having checked multiple times you were sure that no one had touched the car, so you came to the conclusion that you had simply forgotten where you put it, being the tired mess you were coming back from work it was entirely possible but the fact that it happened so often was getting you worried. Strange things kept happening to you and you couldn’t find any other explanation than you going completely mad. One morning you even thought you had seen a green tail disappear through your kitchen window with one of your cloths. You brushed it off even though the cloth had disappeared for some reason and told yourself it was a cat or something. You hadn’t told anyone about the green tail you had seen but preferred to keep it a secret people would think you were crazy. Your stuff kept going missing and it was like there was another person living with you and Jimin, the idea of a ghost haunting you scared you a bit but you did your best to not believe in stuff like that. You had no proof that such things existed so it couldn’t be that. You hoped you weren’t mad but you were slowly starting to doubt it.

You tried not to worry too much about your car not being in the same place as yesterday and drove off.   

When you got to work Amy greeted you with her usual big smile, she was your coworker and over time you two had become good friends since you both shared a passion for well-written books. You admired her, she always had her shit together, she was always healthy and glowed from her well spent nights. Her hair was always perfectly combed and her whites shoes were always as good as new. The only thing you had but she didn’t was a stable relationship, she always had a different boyfriend and you had gotten used to helping her go through her tough breakups, picking her from a corner of the library and wiping her tears away. You would sit together with cakes and lots and lots of coffee as she told you about everything. You were always there to listen, she looked better after and seeing her in such a state made you feel bad. You enjoyed bringing happiness to others so if listening to her ramble about her stupid ex brought back her sparkling white smile so be it.

Your day was going well the library was quiet, and you had spent your afternoon drinking coffee and chatting with Amy while organizing the bookshelves. It was now late in the afternoon and you both were sitting behind the counter waiting for the day to end as the door opened. A young man walked in, his golden skin glimmered in the red glow of the sunset through the windows. He laid his big brown eyes on you and you exchanged a stare before he headed to the history section.

“Oooo, I think that handsome guy kind of likes you!” Amy teased.

“Don’t be silly Amy, you were probably the one he was checking out” you chuckled.

“Come on he clearly stared at you you dumbass!”

You laughed “Yeah sure..” as you took a pile of books to go put away with you.

The pile was quite tall and you could barely see where you were going. You arrived down aisle B, and started tidying them up. You struggled as you tried to reach a high up shelf without making the books fall and you with them.

“Is it her?” you heard a strange voice whisper behind you.

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

You were eavesdropping but the sound of the voices chatting behind you intrigued you. They didn’t sound quite human, there was something about them that ringed a bell but you didn’t quite know what.

“You’re talking crap again Beryth!”

“No, I’m not you stupid son of a bitch! Look at her necklace!” the voice grunted. You couldn’t help but think they were talking about you so you snapped around to get a look at who was talking.

“She’s seen us!” they squealed, all you saw was a flash of green and red and before you knew it you had crashed down to the floor.

“For fuck’s sake.” you mumbled as you started to pick up all the books scattered across the floor. Who was that? You wandered, or rather what was that. It couldn’t have been anything human, not to be able to send you flying to the floor without you even seeing them. Maybe it was a figment of your imagination but the push you felt on your shoulder was all too real. Your hand rubbed your grazed skin, whatever it was it had claws. You started to get scared at the thought of something supernatural happening to you. You never liked not being able to explain a certain situation and right now you couldn’t think of anything rational. You were lost in your thoughts as you saw a figure drop down in front of you. It was the man from before hand. His deep scent invaded your air pipes and you found yourself staring at the beautiful person crouched down in front of you busy picking everything. His hair seemed to shimmer in the light and he looked like the reincarnation of light itself. He looked up at you and once again you both stared at each other in the eyes for what seemed a bit too long. Embarrassed you shot up, and he handed you the books without another word. Before he turned around to leave you couldn’t help yourself but notice a golden pendant around his neck, a golden sun sparkling as he swiftly turned around. You had seen that sun before, but you didn’t quite know where.

You walked back over to Amy after having been done with your task, and she mocked you for the hazy look you had on your face. You couldn’t blame her you had been lost in your thoughts ever since the two things had pushed you over.  That evening you couldn’t get his face out of your head. Where had you seen that necklace? What were those voices? Why did you feel drawn to that man for some reason? Nothing seemed normal, and you were slightly afraid of what all this meant. You were pretty sure you were losing your mind by now.

It was spring and Jimin and you were packing up your stuff to go and see your mum. You were happy to finally leave this place, hoping to be able to forget all the weird stuff that had happened to you lately. You both got into your car and headed off out into the countryside. You had your crazy blue sunglasses on, and you blasted your favorite music with the windows wide open. You were singing and dancing to the beat, Jimin’s eyes were into soft crescent moons as he smiled at you. The sun was in your faces but you didn’t care because the true sun was sitting next to you, as cheesy as it sounds Jimin really did enlighten your life. On your way to your mum’s all you wanted to do was to stop the car and jump right on him, to taste every bit of the man you loved but you held back from your envies and brushed his soft skin from time to time. His hand on your thigh as you drove was enough for you to get flustered, he had that effect on you even after dating for so long you still felt like a teenage girl getting intimate with her crush. You finally arrived in front of the big stone house you knew so well, as you parked outside of the front gate your mum came to greet you both, her usual smile put on as she saw you both. You and Jimin both knew that she didn’t like Jimin, you never really understood why but she never seemed to like any of your boyfriends. In fact, it felt like it wasn’t the boyfriends she didn’t like but rather the fact that you had a boyfriend. Didn’t she want you to be happy?

You all pretended as if everything was fine even if there was a certain tension in the air as she embraced Jimin. The concern of whether or not this was a good idea was probably written all over your face and he gave you a small reassuring smile over her shoulder.

Your vacation had been going well so far you were making the most of the longer days and soft sunshine caressing your faces through the windows in the morning. The smell of coffee and cut grass reminded you of your happy childhood. Most people thought you had a sad time when you were a kid since you didn’t know your father, but surprisingly enough they were wrong. You didn’t think about it much as a kid because you didn’t know him it wasn’t as sad, your mum never talked about him. You had asked so many times before about what he was like but all she would say was “He was the moon of my night dearest.” and her eyes sparkled. She still loved him and you knew it by the look on her face. You still had vague memories of him he only left you when you were 3 years old. You remembered his soft smile and big hands, you remembered the love he gave you and that was enough for you.

You smiled as you reminisced the past in Jimin’s arms on the lawn and in the end you couldn’t have wished for a better life.

That evening you were all sat at the table but something was off, your mum was in a bad mood and you knew it by all the remarks she made to Jimin. She was just plain rude and you didn’t know what was going on. “Mum..” you would hiss, but it didn’t stop her.

“Jimin, instead of doing nothing as per usual could you be useful and go and get the salad dressing?” she snapped and Jimin obliged.

“Oh, I guess it’s Jimin’s fault your flat is a mess.”

“No mum it’s really not, I just keep leaving my stuff all over the place.” you would try to defend him but she would refuse to listen to you, “Nonsense! I know how tidy you are!”

Jimin would wince every time but stayed quiet being too polite to say anything. You wished you could butt in but she wouldn’t listen. You didn’t understand why she was being like this all of a sudden, something clearly was wrong but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You tried to make it through supper without a fuss but then she blurted out, “Dear, are you sure he is he man for you? You don’t seem fit for each other.”

That was it. She had said too much, Jimin swallowed back his anger and got up from the table in silence. He was pissed.

“Seriously hun, I’m really not sure that he making you happy.”

“Mum, please stop.” you muttered.

“No, he is not good enough for you.” she persisted, and all you could see was the sadness hid behind her eyes. You felt your heart sink a bit further at every word and in the end you left her there and joined Jimin in your bedroom. To your surprise, his eyes were slightly watery, and he glared at you as you sat down by him on the bed. “I’m sorry..” you whispered.

“No your not.” he grunted.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m sorry.” you looked at his face trying to understand where this was coming from.

“You didn’t even defend me.” he muttered, he looked hurt.

“Jimin.. she’s my mum..” you sighed, how could you explain? She was your mum and you could never see yourself telling her off, not after all she had done for you. You had too much respect for her to say anything.

“I know she’s your fucking mum, but you have at least said something to her! Unless,..” he paused and the pain in him was pouring out of every inch of his skin and it cut deep into you when you looked at his scrunched face. “Unless, you agree with her… Do you think I’m not good enough Y/N?”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying, did he really think a word of what he just said?

“No! Never Jimin I love you more than anything don’t you say that!” Did he not see how much you loved him? You had never loved someone like him, he made you happy and more. You loved him with every inch of your soul, you thought he knew that.

“Then make me believe it Y/N! All I do is give and you don’t even defend me in front of your only parent! Do you know hard it is? I thought you could have at least done that for me..”

His words were hitting you hard, and you reached for his cheek but he got up.

“I’ll sleep next door tonight.” he muttered a tear running down his face.

“Jimin, no, I..”

“It’s best for now..”  and he shut the door behind him.

You collapsed “he didn’t even let me explain..” you whimpered. It was hard seeing the one you loved in so much pain, what hurt you more was that you were the cause. It was your fault. You should have stood up to your mum. You should have said something. He was in the room next to yours and you knew he could hear you crying through the thin walls, but you didn’t care. You took out your old dolly, the pink soft doll you had as a child and you held it tight in your arms as you waited for sleep to take a hold of you. “Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.” you sniffled as you dozed off without Jimin’s warm arms around you.

In the middle of the night you woke up to some scrambling noises, you thought it was a mouse and you were ready to get rid of it before your eyes fell upon a strange creature on your bedside table. It was emerald green and the size of a rat, his eyes were icy blue as it glared at you. You froze, unsure if you were hallucinating. His scales glistened in the moonlight, he had a long tail like a lizard with a fluffy red end. You couldn’ decide if you found it pretty or ugly, as you both inspected each other.  As you looked a bit closer you saw that in between his long claws was your necklace. Your hand flew up to your throat, and you gasped as you realised he had taken it off from you in your sleep. You threw your sheets off of you ready to pounce onto the strange creature to get it back. It gave you a big white smile that went up from one side to the other of it’s flat and large scaly face, and it flew away. It didn’t have any wings but it was gliding on air, and you were sure you were dreaming. Either way, it still had your necklace so you dashed out of the room and followed it. The flash of green went down the corridor and a staircase had appeared at the end of it, you had never seen it before but when you saw the creature go up them you didn’t hesitate a second before engaging yourself into the climb of the steep wooden stairs. You got to the top of them following the devilish laugh of the green thing, and you found an old wooden door slightly opened awaiting you. If that was where the green rat had gone you had to go inside, even if the looks of the old door weren’t very appealing. Taking your courage you stepped inside the room, prepared to jump onto the thing and finally get your prized possession back but the room was empty. There was nothing apart from dust and a single big mirror. You stared at it, puzzled, the creature had disappeared and there were no other openings than the door you had just came through, you would have seen it if it had come back out that way. You looked around for a crack in the wall but there was nothing, the walls were well sealed. Your gaze turned back to the gold and silver mirror standing in the middle of the room. It was as if it had been waiting for you all along. You were captivated by it, to your surprise your reflection was not showing in it.  You approached it slowly scared of what could happen if you let your guard down the closer you got the more you could see trails of blue light spiraling in the center of it. You couldn’t turn away, not now there was something about it that kept pulling you in. You were inches away, the spinning trails of light were getting stronger as if they were agitated by your presence and a deep voice called for you “Come.” they whispered, and your body was pulled forward as you fell into the mirror.

[write-this-way-please]

Not So Familiar IV

Not So Familiar IV Rated: Mature

☾ Not So Familiar I  ☾ Not So Familiar II ☾ Not So Familiar III

“Let’s go” Namjoon grabbed your wrist, tugging you away.

“Go ahead Namjoon, run.” Hunchul smirked. “Do what you always do, you scaredy cat.” he called out as the spell shops door closed. His laugh, still echoing outside of the shop.

“N-Namjoon… what’s wrong?” you frowned, trying to pull your arm away. “Namjoon say something.” you stumbled a bit as he dragged you outside. “What’s up with you and Hunchul?”

“Stay away from him alright?” he practically stomped away, ignoring all of your attempts at breaking his grip.

You struggle, trying to not trip over your own foot. Although you hadn’t known human Namjoon for very long, there was something very unsettling seeing him like this. He was fuming and you could feel his hate toward Hunchul but it was his blindness to how you were feeling that was alarming. Why was he being like this? “Ah!” you lost your footing on the sidewalk, and you would have surely fallen if it wasn’t for Namjoon dragging you along. But this was too much. “Namjoon stop-You’re hurting me!”

That seemed to have gotten his attention enough to make halt in his tracks and look back at you. He sighed letting go of your wrist. “I’m sorry…”

You cradled your sore wrist to your chest, softly rubbing the spot that he held. “What’s going on…?”

“It’s nothing.” he looked away. “Just...don’t be alone with Hunchul alright? He’s dangerous.”

“I don’t know how you know him but...Hunchul’s only ever been nice to me. He’s never threatened me. He-”

“Just stay away alright? Not just him. All of DNH ok? Kidoh, Ikje, Taegyun, all of them. You can’t trust them”

You sighed heavily. You never did take well to people just telling you to not do something. This was something he obviously felt passionate about, you just wished he talked to you instead of ordering you around. He was never like this. Or was this the real Namjoon? You'd only known his for a few days, there was not telling who he really was. “Namjoon-”

“No.” He didn’t yell, he didn’t raise his voice in the slightest, but it made you jump. It was so stern, so forceful, so cold. Seeing your eyes gloss over he sighed “I’m sorry...can we just go home…?” he offered you his hand, hoping you’d take it like before, maybe even lace your fingers with his.

But you didn’t. 

You walked past him, hugging yourself. Not another word was uttered that whole walk back home, and he trailed just a few paces behind you, not wanting to intrude on the personal space you needed. It broke him to see you look so scared. He hated seeing that you retreated inside of yourself and shut down.

When you got home you headed straight for your bed, using your blanket as some sort of protective barrier to shield you from the man you thought you knew.

Namjoon sighed watching you from the living room. Maybe he should say something? That way you could sleep with ease? Maybe that’ll make it worst and he should just give you time and talk to you about it when you woke up. He decided on the latter once he felt your breath even out.

Even though the situation wasn't ideal, It'll give him time to investigate.

He met back up with Hoseok outside his old apartment. It was only a few blocks away from yours. And in another life, perhaps you two could have met under more normal circumstances and you wouldn’t have to deal with all of this baggage that he carried.

“I guess we’ll start here” Hoseok gave his shoulder a little pat.

“All this time I thought Hunchul just turned me into a cat… I just thought no one cared enough to look for me.”

“That wasn’t the case man. You know I would have looked for you if he didn’t-”

“I know…” he gave him a nod. “You guys are my friends...I know you would have.” He didn’t know why he returned to his old apartment, maybe it was to find answers. To fill that void of who he was. He still remembered his life before he was a cat, but something was missing. And he wanted to be sure he could answer any questions you would have for him.

His apartment was untouched. It was like a time capsule of his life. All of the books he was in the middle of reading, every spell he was trying to learn. This was home. So why wasn’t he compelled to just come back here?

“Namjoon you know whatever your choice is, you have my support-Bangtan’s support. I know we never made it official but, you’re our coven member too. And you have our support. So if you want to retaliate against DNH you have us...and you know BAP has our back too. Yongguk-Hyung won't like what Hunchul did. Same with Jintae-Hyung We all have to be accountable for each other and if one of us steps out of bounds then-”

“I want to...but revenge isn’t my style...I wanted to find Hunchul so badly...but to see that he’s right there. Not even hiding. He was never afraid of me coming back.” he sighed. “But...I don’t wanna start a war Hoseok...Involving BAP would do just that. I want answers…”

“You saw him at the bookstore right? You could have just asked him then-”

“No. Not with her there…. Hunchul doesn’t play fair...I didn’t want him to use her…”

“You really care about her huh? She’s sweet. Always so bright. Kinda hopeless but she’s caring.” Hoseok smiled remembering the first time you stumbled into his magic shop. You walked right up to him and said I wanna be a witch! He was used to people wanting to give it a shot for a week, but most of them quit once they realized it wasn't as easy as just reading a spell. It was hard, it took work, practice, patience. Despite that, you never gave up. Noted, you weren't very good. But you tried. 

“I love her. And I’ll do what I have to to protect her.”

"So...what are you going to tell her?"

Protecting you was his biggest concern, but he knew you'd never forgive him for keeping you in the dark. "Everything..."

He grabbed a few clothes, some photos, and spell books from his place and returned to your apartment. He’ll come clean to you. Everything and anything you wanted to know he’d tell you. 

Opening your door he smiled seeing you drawing a circle on the ground, trying to measure all of the inner angles correctly. Leaning on the doorway he tried to stifle a laugh. He knew what you were doing, and couldn’t help but find it endearing. You kept looking back and forth between the spellbook and your drawing, sticking your tongue out as you concentrated on every little detail.

And here you were once again cutting corners on spells. “Is that parsley? You know Binding spells requires sage right?”

Looking up you frowned. “Parsley is a completely acceptable substitute!”

“Maybe in cooking, but you need a smudge stick.”

“The store was closed...” you pouted and ran your hand through your hair. “Listen Namjoon, I don’t really understand what happened today, but I’m keeping you in this binding spell until you answer my question!”

Walking inside your apartment, he set down his bag and smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shouldn’t you say that once I’ve stepped inside of the binding circle?”

“Crap…” you mumbled looking down at the circle. “Can you come stand here please?” you reached your hand out to his and smiled as he let you tug him inside of it.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you standing directly inside the circle. “There now, you’re stuck with me” he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry about earlier...Seeing Hunchul just really...really bothered me…”

“Don’t be sorry...just don’t shut me out again.”

“What do you wanna know…” he smiled tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Whatever you're willing to share…”

So he told you everything. How he was a second generation witch much like Hunchul and that’s how they became friends. How they made a coven and DNH was their brotherhood. But as he got older his views started to change, he started having conflicting views with them. At first, it was small differences, then it grew to moral reasonings. He started to pull away from the coven. He made other friends who just understood him more. He wanted to leave his coven and join another and Hunchul didn’t take well to that.

“He turned you into a cat because you wanted to leave…?”

“He did so much more than that… All these years I wondered why no one looked for me...I was surrounded by witches my whole life… So someone had to know how to reverse the spell… Other coven’s... Bangtan...my family...someone anyone...but no one even mentioned me after I was gone...Not even my little sister...Hunchul did more than turn me into a cat...He erased me.”

“What do you mean...?"

"It’s an ancient spell...It’s hard to do but...it affects everyone… They just forget me. Like I never existed. If they see me...it’ll all come back to them but...Until then I’m just gone...Like out of sight out of mind...Like I need to prove that I’ve existed.”

“How is that even possible…? People don’t just disappear…”

“It’s a quantum superposition. Like two separate realities, I'm here, but I'm not. I lived, but I didn't”

“Like Schrodinger’s cat?” you furrowed your brows as you tried to remember anything you could about quantum superpositions. 

“Exactly.”

“He can’t do that. We can’t let him get away with that. There’s gotta be some kind of witch police we can call.”

“That’s the point of covens. Checks and balances if you will. We’re supposed to stop the bad people from doing bad things." He shrugged "But I’m back...because of you…” he smiled leaning into your touch. “When people see me they remember me...So...revenge isn’t what I seek. I just want answers.”

“Vengeance...is what you deserve.” you looked down “I trusted Hunchul...He’s always so nice to me...All of DNH are. Sure they tease me...but they’re nice...I can’t believe.”

“Vengeance is a dangerous thing to go after.”

“It's fair! What Hunchul did wasn’t right...He stole three years from you...He..” you looked down trying to fight back a sob. “He stole your life…” You balled your tiny hand into a fist. "I won't let him get away with this"

He smiled. “You know...there’s a coven leader in our community. Strong and empowering type..He’s very feared. I was avoiding seeing him because I knew he’d say something similar.” he gave your head a pat. “But I guess I needed to hear that regardless.” he tried to reassure you. “I wanna talk to Hunchul first ok?”

“I don’t want you to. What if...what if he does something to you…?”

“He won’t”

“But what if he erases you again…” you gripped his hand.

“You’ll remember me… And you’ll bring me back again.”

“What if I can’t?”

“I know a lot of really capable witches. Some that have lifetimes of experience and none of them would be able to do what you did.” he tilted your chin toward him. “I trust you...so trust me. You're one of the strongest witches I know” he kissed you softly.

Closing your eyes you deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth. His kiss was needy, urgent, and yet so warm. His lips moved against yours, coaxing your mouth open to allow him in, which you did happily. He tilted his head into the kiss, his nose brushing against the side of your face. You smiled against his soft pouty lips before pecking him and stepping back for a breath. “Namjoon…” you panted, left a little breathless from his display of passion.

He smiled as you stepped out of the holding circle. “You trying to run away?” he wiped the corner of his mouth his thumb. “Because it’ll take a lot more than this little spell to hold me back”

You blushed heavily stepping back again at the dark look in his eyes. Why was he so disarmingly seductive. It really wasn’t fair “Can you not?” you huffed stepping back again until the back of your knees hit your bed, making you fall back.

“What I do?” he chuckled stepping closer to you, stepping out of your spell with ease.

“Stop looking so attractive you Jerk”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that was an issue.” he reached your bed putting his hands on both sides of you. “You want me to stop?” he quirked a brow, his lips teasingly brushing against yours.

“No” you pouted, pecking his lips. “You broke my spell.”

“Wasn’t hard.” he pressed you down onto the mattress “Maybe next time you don’t substitute the main ingredient of the spell. Besides you’re going to need something a lot stronger than that to keep me away from you.” You nipped at his upper lip, sliding your hand down his chest. “Oh? Look who suddenly isn’t shy” he grinned.

“This doesn’t feel real…” you whispered, placing your hand over his heart.

“It’s real.” he smiled, tugging his shirt off over his head.

“Are we…” you looked down, biting your lip.

“Did you want to...?” he furrowed his brows

“I dunno….do you want to?” you looked up at him nervously.

“Yes.” he said all too hastily, getting embarrassed at his own eagerness. He buried his face in your neck, avoiding your gaze to keep the little bit of pride he had. “I-mean...Forget I said that.”

“No…” you smiled running your hand lower, tugging at his belt. “I wanna hear you say it again…”

He peaked up at you seeing your shy smile. “I want you… There was that embarrassing enough?”

“Not quite, but I’ll take it” you giggled as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. He playful growl coming from his throat.

Your hands hungrily moving to touch every inch of him. Your eyes locked with his as he moved your shirt upward, slowly asking permission. “It’s alright.” you smiled placing your hand on top of his, guiding him up your body. “I’m not gonna break.” you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

“You sure about that?”

You frowned before pushing him down with all of your strength onto the bed and straddling him “I’m pretty sure.” He laughed as his hands moved to rest on your hips. “You’re not the only one who wants this Namjoon.” you pulled your shirt off before placing your hands on his bare chest.

Sitting up, he pulled you into a deep kiss. Your hips grinding into his as he unhooked your bra. As you broke away from the kiss to catch your breath he hungrily nipped at your neck. His lips ghosting over the top of your breast, making you arch your back. It wasn’t just how Namjoon kissed you, it wasn’t how he whispered your name, and it wasn’t how his fingers danced against your inner thigh that made you undone. It was how he never broke eye contact.

He knew what he was doing to you, and he wanted to watch you come undone.

You were breathtaking on his lap, your cheeks flushed, your hair messily splayed over a shoulder. Your swollen lower lip, trapped between your teeth. And how you rocked your hips against his. He ran his hand over your soft skin before cupping your breast and giving your nipples a squeeze. “Beautiful…”

He chuckled at the array of expressions on your face. From blissfully free to hyper aware of just how exposed you were to him. “What?” he grinned.

“Stop looking at me!” you huffed in an embarrassed fit. Hiding behind your hair.

“No” he smiled. “I never want to stop looking at you.”

“You’re so cheesy!” As you reached for the blanket on the bed, Namjoon grabbed your arms.

“Oh no you don’t” he laughed as you struggled, falling off his lap and back onto the bed. You smiled looking up at him, your wrist pinned by your head and your blanket tossed haphazardly over your waist. “It’s not going to protect you from me” he grinned kissing you again

“It’ll make it less embarrassing” you pouted.

“Oh? You think so?” he quirked a brow. “You really think this’ll make anything less embarrassing?”

No good has ever come out of an eyebrow quirk, especially from Namjoon. He took everything as a goddamn challenge. Before you could even respond Namjoon disappeared underneath your blanket. He settled himself between your thighs, kissing your sensitive skin. His lips ghosting over your panties before pushing his tongue against your core.

Welp, he was right.

This was not any less embarrassing at all. In fact, it was somehow more erotic. You couldn’t see him, and that built the anticipation all the more. You clenched your eyes shut and bit down on your lip trying to hide your moans as Namjoon teased you through your soaked panties. This was torture. He was close, but not quite close enough, his teeth grazing over your clit teasingly.

Moving your panties to the side his lips latched onto you. Your legs hooking over his strong broad shoulders as his tongue delved deeper. Your hands threaded through his hair as you panted heavily. His tongue hitting all of the right spots over and over.

“Nnn…. Namjoon…” you moaned out, your body quivering from his tongue. You could feel him smiling against your core after your release.

He chuckled sliding up your body, coming up from under the blanket. “Mmmm…” he bit his lip as he reached your face. “You’re gorgeous.” he grinned. “And delicious”

Panting you looked up at him. “Can you not say things like that...while you know….looking at me like that…”

He smirked padding his thumb down your lower lip. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like…” your voice drifted as you found yourself following his lips, chasing the kiss. He smiled as you finally kissed him. Not being bothered in the slightest that you could taste yourself on his lips.

He rubbed himself against your center before sinking inside of you. Your back arching against the bed as you said his name in a desperate prayer.

And you were absolutely gone.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

To Be Continued

It took me so long to write this because I’ve been working non-stop, and when I finally got some time off I got horribly sick. ;_; I’m still pretty sick right now but it’s been so long since I’ve updated and I feel so bad >.< I hope you guys liked it, if so let me know.

Also, the Schrodinger's cat references is totally Teen Wolf inspired.

[daebakinc]

Mind Tricks (I)

Summary: When a coworker offers you a magical solution to your one-sided office crush, you’re desperate enough to take it with unexpected results. Pairing: Junmyeon x OC Genre: CEO AU, Magic, Fluff, Smut

“You’re welcome.”

“Excuse me?” You turn around from your desk to look at your teammate with a half smile.“Your last free coffee’s already waiting by your desktop, genius.  A week is all we agreed to when you helped me with that presentation.”

“Wrong answer.” Baekhyun smirks and pushes off the counter he was leaning on to saunter into your shared corner. He flops into his seat. “The correct answer is: ‘Thank you so much, Baekhyun, my best friend in the world, for solving my weeks long inability to make a move on my crush.'”

“Could you be any louder?” you hiss, desperately throwing a glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, everyone within hearing distance is either late or still too deep in their morning stupor to pay attention to your loudmouth friend. “And it is not a crush. I-”

“Oh, it is so a crush,” Baekhyun chuckles. He does lower his voice though as he continues, “I was sitting right beside you when he first came in. Kim Junmyeon, Human Relations extraordinaire, here to make us the most fantastic team in the city. You were all moon eyed from the start. That’s not to mention everything else.” He starts ticking off on his fingers. “First, you’re like the teacher’s pet in his meetings when you normally just observe in those things. Second, you started eating in the downstairs cafeteria, where he eats, instead of in the floor break room. Third, your voice gets a pitch higher when you talk to him; thank god you don’t do that fake laugh thing some girls do or I’d disown you. Fourth-”

“My voice does not get higher,” you cut in. You cross your arms in warning, but he persists.

“Yes, Mr. Kim, here are the surveys you wanted,” Baekhyun teases in a falsetto, fanning himself. “I’m so sorry they’re late. I just got lost in those sparkling brown eyes-”

“One more word and I am never saving your ass from a bad date again.”

“Okay, okay.” Baekhyun raises his hands in surrender, but his smile is still in place. He reaches into his jacket pocket, toying with something. “Does that mean you’re not interested in what I got you?”

Turning back to your computer, you gamely reply, “Correct. Thanks, but no thanks. Knowing you, I don’t want to know.”

“Well, I’m going to give it to you anyway because that’s what friends do.”

Soft fabric brushes your arm, accompanied by a dull thunk. Glancing to the side you see a lilac velvet pouch, no bigger than your hand, kept closed with a thin gold string. “A bag is going to solve my problems?”

“Open it. Unless you really meant you didn’t want to know.”

You take another look at the bag. It looks like an antique, a bit battered but obviously high quality at one point. Like Pandora’s box, it gives no hints of its contents. Instead, it begs to be opened, to have its secrets revealed. Your mother always warned you that curiosity killed the cat. However, you’d always retorted that satisfaction brought it back and like the proverbial cat, you often depend on those extra lives. Your eyes flick over to Baekhyun. He’s trying to look invested in his inbox. The eager tap of his fingers and smile still tickling the corner of his mouth give him away.

“I hate that you know me so well,” you grumble with a sigh. Saving your work, you undo the gold knot and reach inside the pouch.

The heart shaped vial you pull out is made of old fashioned thick, cloudy glass. Scrolls and whorls on its surface bleed into one another and invite your fingers to trace them. The pale wooden cork on top is soft with age. It keeps dark burgundy liquid safe inside like an old secret. Some sunlight seeps through the glass to the liquid, catching flecks of light in it so the liquid seems to swirl even though you hold the bottle still.

You raise your eyebrows. “Please tell me this isn’t you suggesting I get him or both of us drunk and make out or something.”

“It’s not alcohol. It’s perfume. Kinda. ” Baekhyun rolls his eyes and flips around a small tag you hadn’t noticed.

“Love Spell?”

“Yep.”

“Baek, where’d you get this?”

“Remember how I went back to my grandmother’s for the weekend because I’ve been promising Yixing down the hall we’d go for forever? Well, we did and right before we left, he saw a sign for fortune telling and wanted to go in. Honestly, I was surprised she’s still around; I remember her when I was a kid and she still looks the same.

Anyway, I was looking around while she read Yixing’s fortune and I saw this. Not that I don’t believe in you, but I thought you could use the extra help. The fortune teller said that’s her most potent potion too.”

“Baekhyun,” you laugh. “Thank you for the thought, but a magic potion? I really hope this isn’t some weird way of hitting on me.”

He laughs too. “Been there, done that, remember? We were fun, but no sparks. That’s why you’re my wing-woman. That potion’s legit.”

“Magic doesn’t exist.”

“It really works!” Baekhyun insists. “My grandmother knows at least five couples it helped get together and they’re happy as can be! You just put three drops on like usual perfume while thinking of the person you want to fall in love with you and the instant they smell it, boom! They’re hooked. Kiss them at midnight on the 12th day of wearing the perfume and they’re yours for good.”

You eye the vial, still skeptical. “Five couples?”

“Look.” He leans forward, his gaze becoming sincere. “Junmyeon is only here another week. You don’t make some kind of move now, you might not ever be able to.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

“'If’ is a more dangerous word than people give it credit for.”

Looking over your cubicle wall, you find the object of your affections. Unlike his predecessor, Junmyeon always has the blinds of his office open, he says to encourage people to drop in and talk. The amazing thing is that he actually listens and tries to help when he can. Kind, polite, and good-humored, Junmyeon was going to be missed by more people than just you. He is without a doubt a gentleman, a rare specimen in today’s world.

Dedicated man he is, he’s already at his desk, jacket on the back of his chair and shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His dark hair is classically styled, but some still manages to tickle his forehead. The thick frames of his glasses can’t hide the little lines that form between his eyes as he frowns in concentration and it’s unbearably cute.

You almost sigh, but catch yourself when you remember Baekhyun is watching you. He grins a shit-eating grin anyway. You put the bottle down with a glare.

“You gonna do it?” he sings.

“You don’t have any confidence in my feminine charms?”

Baekhyun snorts, ruffling your hair. “When you’re not trying, you’re irresistible. When you intentionally flirt, not so much.”

“I know,” you moan, dropping your head in your hands. “Why is flirting so hard? Why can’t I just woman up and ask him out?”

“That’s what this handy-dandy potion is for. So you don’t have to. Junmyeon can man up and ask you.”

“Junmyeon-”

The man in question suddenly calls your name and you pop out of your seat so fast you almost fall. Regaining your footing if not your dignity, you calmly ask, “Yes, Junmyeon?”

“Would you mind coming in here for a second, please? I need your opinion.”

“Of course.”

As you move to leave your desk, Baekhyun catches your wrist and nods towards the potion. “Worth a shot, no?”

You glance at the bottle. The potion within winks at you invitingly. Finally, you throw up your hands and mutter, “Fine.”

Baekhyun smiles and puts the bottle in your hand.

You pull the stopper. Jasmine, cherry blossom, and lily of the valley suffuse the air, bringing to mind summer and first love’s innocence. “Here goes nothing.”

“Don’t forget to say his name three times.”

Junmyeon’s name ghosts on your lips as you quickly dab three drops of the potion on your wrists and neck. Baekhyun gives you a thumbs up. You hurry out of your area and into Junmyeon’s office.

He looks up at you and smiles. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” You smile back, your heart fluttering helplessly. “You needed something?”

“Yes.” Junmyeon pushes his glasses up and gestures at his desktop. “I’m planning the company retreat for next month as a favor to the president. You’ve been here longer than I have of course, so I wanted to ask what you think of the events I’ve planned.”

You walk around his desk and he obligingly shifts his chair so you can look closer. Leaning in, your arm brushes his chest, but you try to ignore it.

Scrolling through the lists and itinerary he created, you nod in approval. “Looks good. I think it’ll be a really fun day.”

“Not too many corny team-building events?”

“We all know they’re obligatory, so you won’t hear any complaining. Besides, you end before lunch and then everyone can choose their own activities, so I think that’ll make everyone happy.” You point to part of the list. “Maybe you could add some indoor activities too for the older employees since it’ll be hotter in the summer? Like a sauna or dance class if it’s not too late to book?”

Junmyeon taps a pen to his lips. “Excellent idea. I’ll contact the resort after my meeting later. Thanks.” He scribbles down a note to himself on a sticky note. “

“You’re very welcome.” You straighten up and move towards the door. When he calls after you, you turn around, hand on the door frame. “Yes?”

Junmyeon coughs. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound strange, but… are you wearing perfume?”

You stiffen. Baekhyun’s ridiculous magic potion can’t be working. It can’t.“Yes.”

“It’s nice. Really nice,” he says shyly. His eyes linger on yours, a different smile than you’ve seen before on his lips.

“Oh. Thank you.” Heart racing, you retreat.

“So, how’d it go?” Baekhyun asks as soon as you’re back in your chair.

“He complimented it,” you reply with a shrug. “He didn’t propose to me, if that’s what you were looking for.”

“That’s what day twelve is for.”

“Okay,” you snort.

“Well, if you’re going to be a non-believer,” Baekhyun says, reaching for the bottle that’s still sitting by your keyboard, “I’ll just take this back and-”

You swipe it out of his reach, making him laugh. “I didn’t say I was going to stop using it. A little superstition never hurt anyone. Besides, I like how it smells. If nothing else, it’ll make a nice perfume.”

He grins knowingly.“Sure.”

“You’re still here?”

Glancing up, you’re not the least surprised to see Junmyeon leaning on the divider, chin resting on his folded arms. Both of you are almost always some of the last people to leave.

“I was just finishing up some emails from this morning. Less to get behind on tomorrow.” You push back to grab your bag from under your desk, stand, and stretch. “All done now though. You?”

“Same.”

Junmyeon waits for you, falling into step beside you and pressing the elevator button. It’s almost a habit for you and Junmyeon to walk out together, pleasantly chatting about nothing until you part ways.

Not expecting anything more, you say goodbye once you exit the building and step towards your way home.

Junmyeon reaches out and touches your arm. “Would you mind if I asked you something?”

Curiosity engaged, you shake your head.“Of course not.”

“I’m sorry to be strange again, and doubly so if this is too personal a question.” He hesitates, catching his lower lip in his teeth as he looks at you. “Are you- are you and Baekhyun… seeing each other?”

“Like dating?”

“Yes.” His cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink that makes you want to kiss them. Words tumble over themselves as he adds, “It’s not really any of my business and I assure you, it’s not that I think dating should be forbidden between coworkers, because honestly that just causes more problems than it prevents and-”

Taking pity on him, you interrupt. “We’re not. We’re just friends, coworkers. Nothing more.”

“Oh. I thought… Never mind. In that case, I know it’s a little out of the blue and I’m going back to my company after Friday, but would you like to go to dinner with me this Saturday evening?”

Your heart thuds in your chest.“This Saturday?”

“If not Saturday, maybe Sunday?” Junmyeon asks hopefully, watching your face carefully.

“Saturday is fine.” You give him a small smile, trying not to beam or squeak or something equally embarrassing as to scare him off. “I’d love to.”

The smile he returns is brilliant. “Awesome. Great. There’s a great little place a friend of mine opened a few weeks ago and I think you’ll love it. I’ll pick you up at 7, okay?”

“I could meet you there if you’d like.”

“It’s no trouble, really. Oh, may I have your number so you can send me your address, please?”

It’s unbelievable how cute politeness can be. You readily recite the digits of your cellphone number, adding him as a contact as soon as you receive his text.

“Couldn’t you have pulled both from my file in human resources?” you ask.

“Ah, but that would be using my powers for selfish gain, not the greater good, and I am forbidden by my Kryptonian father from doing so," Junmyeon jokes, his smile widening when you laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Until tomorrow. Have a good night, Junmyeon.”

“You as well. Get home safe.” With a nod of his head, he turns and heads down the sidewalk. He glances back at you once, smiling sheepishly and looking away quickly when he catches your eye.

Once he rounds the corner, you start walking towards your bus stop. Grabbing your phone, you speedily dial.

He answers after the second ring.“Hello?”

“Baekhyun, you are never going to believe what just happened.”

“Junmyeon asked you out.”

You frown, a little disappointed you didn’t get to say it. “How did you know?”

“It’s the potion,” he says smugly. “Seems your friend isn’t as crazy as you thought, huh?”

“I don’t know.” You take the bottle out of your purse and gaze at in wonder. “Magic doesn’t exist but this… this is unreal.”

“Anyone ever told you love is magic?”

“Oh my god, Byun Baekhyun. That is one of the corniest lines I have ever heard you utter.”

“I bet Junmyeon has even worse that he’ll try on your date, judging from those awful dad jokes he likes telling.”

You giggle then stop. “I’m actually going on a date with Kim Junmyeon, aren’t I?” The realization hits you again and the exuberance you suppressed before bursts through with a loud squeal that probably has Baekhyun holding the phone away from his ear.

Next Chapter