#And I’m not saying witchcraft HAS to be an always good and soft and fluffy experience.

[wizard-irl]

Reminder that any practice that harms or has potential to harm your physical or mental health should not be part of your practice.

Even if it’s commonly practiced.

Even if other practitioners seem fine doing it.

Especially if people push it on you saying you have to do it to be a witch.

And refusing to do a practice that harms you, even if it’s popular, does not make you any less of a witch or any less magical.

[engie-ivy]

Yes, he's in the hospital and doesn't remember anything about himself, but it's actually not that bad. His memories are sure to come back in a matter of days, and until then, he can spend time eating, sleeping, reading, daydreaming about that ridiculously attractive Healer...

(The aim is Funny and Fluffy Wolfstar)

It's Like the First Time

“Everything seems to be in order,” the Healer Trainee, Aubrey, says. “As we expected. How’s the dizziness?”

“When I’m laying down, it doesn’t bother me,” he replies.

“That’s good,” Aubrey smiles. “The dizziness and light-headedness should gradually disappear over the upcoming days, and then the memories will come back after.”

He nods. He’d be more worried about all his memories being gone if the Healers at St Mungo’s weren’t so certain they’ll all come back in a matter of days. Dizziness, light-headedness, and amnesia; it’s a familiar picture when being hit with a Confundo-charm from a defective wand, which the Healers have encountered many times before and has apparently happened to him during some friendly duelling.

It’s always the same picture: the dizziness and light-headedness slowly lessening, and the memories all coming back at once after two to at most five days. Like, one moment you know nothing, and the next you remember everything.

Well, he doesn’t exactly know nothing. His semantic memory is intact, meaning he has basic knowledge and remembers facts and skills. He knows he’s a wizard, he knows the hospital is called St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he knows the people in the lime green robes are the Healers, he knows that since he’s a wizard he probably went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he knows perfectly well how to perform a wide variety of charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. (So luckily those years at Hogwarts weren’t for nothing)

What he doesn’t know is anything about himself. His episodic memory, memory for any kind of life events, is completely gone. Who he is, what he does, what he has done, who he knows, it’s all gone. His own mum could walk into the room, and he’d think she was the laundry lady. (Luckily, she seemed like a very nice lady, and had thought it rather funny)

The only thing he knows about himself, not because he remembers, but because it’s the only thing they told him, is that he’s someone named Remus Lupin. Apparently, in the past, trying to fill in the gaps has proven to be more frustrated than helpful for the patient and, as the memories will come back on their own anyway, quite unnecessary. Therefore, they don’t tell him much else, and all he can do is wait.

Past experience has also shown that the patient often finds it quite stressful, and even frightening, to be surrounded by lots of people who all know him, and whom he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. Therefore, friends and family are only allowed in limited numbers, one new person a day, which started with his mum.

His mum had brought him his favourite novel, saying that he read it so many times, and would always wish he could erase it from his memory just so he could read it again with the same sense of anticipation. Well, she had figured this was his chance. Now, all he can do is lie in bed, read his book, and eat food, which is... Well, pretty great actually.

He doesn’t have anything to worry about. How can he worry about anything if he doesn’t remember anything? It’s like having a little break from life and all its expectations and responsibilities. (Though the fact that he’s so happy about having no worries, makes him think that this Remus Lupin normally worries quite a lot)

When a Healer comes to see him, he suddenly knows something else about himself: he’s very, very gay.

The Healer has a classic, aristocratic beauty to him, with his sharp cheekbones and full lips, and his eyes are of a clear grey, that appears silver, which contrasts quite nicely with the strands of raven black hair that have fallen from the messy bun on top of his head. And no one has the right to look that good in lime green robes, which he fills out pretty well with his lean, muscular body.

The Healer gives him a soft smile, and really, if he smiles at all his patients like that, the whole hospital must be diagnosed with palpitations. “How’re you feeling?” the Healer asks in a warm, deep voice.

He wonders whether his semantic memory has failed him after all, as he suddenly seems to have forgotten how speaking works. “Erm...” he says, very eloquently.

The Healer frowns, and looks at Aubrey. “Isn’t the confusion supposed to be gone by now?”

Aubrey looks from the Healer to him and back to the Healer, while a knowing smile appears on her face. “Don’t worry,” she tells the Healer. “He has been perfectly responsive and coherent all day.”

“Has he had some Anti-Confusion Concoction?”

“He’s had a small dose, as the confusion was already wearing off on his own.”

“Are you going to give him Memory Potion?” the Healer continues his questioning.

Aubrey shakes her head. “We have already given him Mandrake Restorative Draught against the spell’s physical effects. Adding Memory Potion might make the dose of Stewed Mandrake too high. As we can be certain all memories will come back on their own, it isn’t worth the risk.”

The Healer nods thoughtfully. “So only a daily dose of Restoration Potion until all effects have subsided, I assume?”

“Yes,” Aubrey agrees. “Based on past experience, that’ll in all likeliness be sufficient.”

The Healer turns his head back to him, and that soft smile is back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, a bright flash can be seen, and a gazelle made out of shining white light is standing in front of them.

“I’m so sorry to disturb on a moment like this,” a stressed-sounding voice of a young woman comes from the Patronus, that is directing itself to the Healer. “But you’re needed back at the HADA department immediately! We’re having an emergency.”

The Healer curses under his breath. He takes a step towards the door, but then stops to look back at him with a pained expression.

“He’s in good hands,” Aubrey says.

The Healer nods. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells him, before hurrying out the door.

Though his mum was right, and the novel is really good, he has trouble focusing on it from that moment on. He’s constantly interrupted by thoughts of bright, silver-grey eyes. Merlin, he’s seen the guy once, and he’s acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush!

Telling himself off for it doesn’t stop him from looking up hopefully the moment he catches a glimpse of lime-green robes. It’s quite a disappointment when the Healer that walks in to check his vitals is a greying, grumpy man with a face that seems to be twisted in a permanent scowl. Asking him where the good-looking Healer went to seems kind of impolite though, so he just sits and nods whenever the Healer grumbles something unintelligible.

“So, why have I gotten a different Healer?” he asks Aubrey later, trying to sound casual.

“Different Healer?” she asks, not understanding.

“Yeah,” he says, feeling to his great annoyance that his cheeks begin to flush. “There was this older man checking up on me, while before, there was the young man with the broad shoulder, shining dark hair, sweet smile, pretty eyes...” He trails off.

“Oh!” Understanding, and a not insignificant amount of amusement, appear on Aubrey’s face. “Oh, he wasn’t not your Healer, sweetie! He was visiting.”

“Ah,” he sighs disappointedly. So the Healer had only been here for some sort of second opinion, and he probably won’t be back. It was too good to be true, to have a Healer like that around as a nice distraction.

“Healer Black works for the Healing Against the Dark Arts Department,” Aubrey continues.

“You know him?” he asks.

“I know of him. But honestly,” she adds with a wink. “Everyone working at St Mungo’s knows of Healer Black!”

He chuckles. “I suppose he cannot not catch your eye.”

“It’s not just his appearance,” Aubrey says. “Healer Black is the leading expert on healing Dark Arts-related injuries and combating curses from the Dark Arts. He has invented novel Healing Spells and revolutionized the protocol for treating curses. Healers from all over the world consult him on their cases, and patients come to see him from all over the world.”

“Wow...�� he sighs again, but this time it’s a more wistful sigh. He doesn’t even care anymore that he sounds like a love-struck teenager. Maybe Aubrey will write it off as a side-effect of the Confundo-charm. He briefly wonders about that himself, but as those bright, silver-grey eyes come to mind again, he knows he’s under a whole different kind of spell.

“Yeah,” Aubrey smiles. “He’s quite a remarkable man.”

“So I guess I won’t be seeing him again then,” he says dejectedly, letting his head hang. He wonders why they’d sent that Healer to come see him in the first place, as he surely must’ve had better things to do.

He hears a choked noise besides him, and he looks up at Aubrey, who seems to be stifling a laugh, with her hand pressed against her mouth. “Don’t worry, love,” she says with obvious amusement in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him.”

The young man sitting next to his bed has been talking about his wife and their baby for an hour straight. Though it really isn’t so bad. His stories are quite amusing, and the man is very charismatic. He has sparkling eyes, and hair so messy, he had immediately checked whether it wasn’t storming outside when the man had entered. He has a disarming smile and a contagious laugh, and is surprisingly easy to talk to. He says his name is James Potter, and he’s Remus Lupin’s best friend.

He has to give Remus Lupin a pat on the back for having made such a nice friend. Honestly, the idea of socializing with new people, trying to make friends, does not appeal to him, and he’s glad to know Remus already has them.

“And I just went to see Sirius,” James says. “Well, more like I was speed walking next to him in the two minutes he had to get from one room to another. He still managed to apologize twenty times though. Normally, I’d say he should be sorry, but the poor guy seems to hardly have any time to eat or sleep.” James shakes his head. “Did you hear what happened? Three children were playing in the woods, and they must’ve accidentally touched an unknown cursed object. They were brought in barely conscious and with a mother completely beside herself. So of course, ‘the widely renowned and highly acclaimed, capable-of-the-impossible Healer Black’ was the only one who might save them. And he has, as they seem to be recovering,” James adds, relieved. “But really, there aren’t many excuses that would justify him not being here, but having to save children’s lives is definitely one of them.”

“Thank Merlin those children are alright. That sounds- Wait,” he says, before sitting up. “Healer Black? You know Healer Black?”

James blinks at him. “Ehm... Yeah?”

“Merlin, that man is so handsome!” he exclaims. “He was here for like two minutes, before he got called away to other patients, but I just can’t stop thinking about him! He already looks perfect, and now you’re telling me that he’s some kind of miracle Healer saving children’s lives?” He sighs. “It’s just not fair.”

At first, James still looks confused. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and his mouth starts twitching like he’s trying to hold back laughter.

He doesn’t blame him. He’d laugh at himself too, with how ridiculous he’s been acting over this random Healer. He just hopes he won’t have embarrassed Remus Lupin too much once his memories have returned.

“Don’t worry,” James says, in an amused voice. “Healer Black will come back as soon as he has the time.”

Now, his own eyes widen. “You really think he’d come to see me again?”

James lets out a strangled noise and starts coughing, which he strongly suspects being a laugh quickly covered up by a cough. “Yes,” James replies, suppressed laughter still sounding through in his voice. “I really think so.”

He knows it’s rather pathetic, but as he’s got nothing better to do, he did it anyway. He practiced what he’s going to say to Healer Black when, or if, he comes back.

He’ll tilt his head slightly downwards, so he’ll look up at the man through his lashes, and then he’ll give him a coy smile, while softly saying ‘Healer Black. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve heard many great things about you, and what you did for those children is truly admirable.’ Luckily, flirting seems to fall under semantic memory.

However, when the moment comes that Healer Black enters the room again, his carefully constructed plan falls apart.

At first, he’s stunned that yes, Healer Black really looks like that, and he hasn’t made it better in his head. Alright, the man has bags under his eyes, his robes are rumpled, and his hair is slightly greasy and so much strands are peaking out of his bun, making it look more messy than what would qualify as a normal messy bun, but he still looks like the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t even notice Aubrey and James walk in after Healer Black.

He opens his mouth to deliver his carefully practiced lines, but the words die in his throat as Healer Black... Well, flings himself at him. He literally splays out on top of him, hugging him close and pressing his face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you so much,” Healer Black murmurs against his skin.

He freezes. Yes, he has forgotten quite a lot, but he’s still pretty sure this is not the standard operating procedure for Healers to greet their patients. “Erm...” He says, once again ever so eloquently.

Healer Black lifts his head and looks up at him in confusion, but he can’t possibly be more confused than he’s feeling.

James scrapes his throat. “Remus, may I introduce you to Healer Sirius Black-Lupin, your husband?”

“So neither one of you decided to tell him?” Healer Black has crossed his arms over his chest and is glaring at Audrey and James.

“I’m sorry, Healer Black!” Aubrey squeaks. “I know I should’ve told him, but it was just too cute, watch him be all smitten with his own husband.”

He isn’t really listening. He’s openly staring at Healer Black. Apparently, he bloody married the guy, so it’s allowed, right?

“I don’t know how you pulled this off, Remus Lupin,” he whispers under his breath. “But thank you, and kudos to you, mate, kudos to you.”

As he looks at Healer Black up and down (at some point he’ll really have to stop referring to his husband as Healer Black, probably), he suddenly really wishes for his memories to come back fast, as there are some things he’d really like to remember.

Though on the other hand, he thinks, biting his lip, maybe ‘Healer Black’ won’t mind freshening up his memory in the meantime?

“Ugh,” Remus groans, hiding his face against Sirius’ chest. “I can’t believe I was practically drooling over you!”

Sirius chuckles while he’s rubbing soft circles on Remus’ back. “You were cute.”

As a reply, Remus just groans again.

“I’m sorry, though,” Sirius says, suddenly quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been by your side as I was supposed to be.”

Remus lifts up his head to look at Sirius. “Hey, none of that! You were saving lives.” He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to be anywhere else.”

Sirius smiles softly at him, and Remus lays his head back on his chest. “Besides, it was a good reminder that I should be more proud of my accomplishment to get Healer Black to marry me.”

Sirius barks a laugh, that Remus can feel vibrating in his chest. “And how exactly was me down on one knee practically begging you to become my husband ‘you getting me to marry you’?”

Remus smiles fondly, happy that that memory is safely back in his head. “And it was nice to feel like having a new crush again,” he continues. “ All exhilarated, enraptured, and in awe.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Remus’ head. “I feel like that every time I look at you.”

[aggieharkness]

Lily of the valley (Part 2) (Wanda x Pietro x Agatha)

Summary: Now that they are all back home Agatha must strike a friendship and gain the kids trust, both for their sake and hers.

a/n: A user asked me to add something, so I hope you liked the bit that I added for you @andshewillrecover​ . Hope you all enjoy it, and if you want other stories, just ask. Please, share and comment if you like it. Here you can find the first part Lily of the Valley

Words: 4k

Lily of the Valley (Part 2)

Tapping on the soil with her small hand shovel she looked at her work, the lilies now planted next to her pink petunias and her 150 years old salvia, Wanda, and Pietro standing beside her watching her almost without blinking. Tapping the dirt off her pants she stood up and placed a hand on their shoulders as they watched the plant blooming in a matter of just a few seconds, making them gasp in surprise. If she had been one of those ordinary women that lived in one of those big houses she would say her garden was her pride and joy, but in her witchy life, her normal life, her garden was more than just something to be proud of, it was a big part of her witchcraft. Carefully she turned them both around and took them inside, it was beginning to get a bit chilly, a soft breeze picking up, and she didn’t want them to get cold. It was past midday in Salem, nigh time in Sokovia, but it was colder than usual in the forest where she lived, probably because of the storm that was brewing just a few miles away. She suspected the children would be tired, she was sure it was past their bedtime, but she knew better than to let them go to bed, they wouldn’t be able to stay still and quiet once they had rested, not caring if it was three o’clock or five.

-Sit here, I want to talk with you both. – guiding them to the couch she sat on the floor in front of them, noticing how they were holding hands. They were relaying on each other now that their parents were gone, she would have to make sure they didn’t stay inside all day, that they made friends, it was always good to have one or two, at least for little children. Four bulging open wide eyes stared at her, waiting. – Are you alright? Does any part of you hurt? Do you have scratches, bruises… anything at all? – both shook their heads, a sigh of relief leaving Agatha’s lips.

-Are you a good or a bad witch? Are you like Samantha? – it surprised Agatha the knowledge the little witch seemed to have about sitcoms, mainly because she had watched them when they were being broadcasted for the first time and it had been close to thirty years since she had watched Bewitched. At least she knew she could compare herself to things that the kids would be able to understand.

-I’m a bit like Samantha, a bit like Endora… In real life, witches are a bit more complicated, but I will teach you, don’t worry.

-Do you have a black cat?

-I once had one, but now I have a rabbit. He’s my familiar.

-What’s a… familiar?

-It’s a spirit that lives inside an animal Pietro, and he helps me and takes care of me. His name is Señor Scratchy, do you want to see him? – the bright smiles and nods gave her a warm feeling in her chest, but she still was nervous and worried. Walking over to her basement door she opened it, her fluffy bunny rushing out into the hall. Agatha chuckled before she turned and pointed at the living room, the rabbit hopping quickly inside the room. Both kids stared at the pet, not sure whether they were allowed to touch him as Agatha scooped him up into her arms, sitting back down in front of them. She had expected them to jump into her arms, petting him like crazy, but they sat there as if they were restraining their impulses, probably because they still didn’t know how she worked if she would scold them or get mad at them. She would have to work on that as well, gain their trust. – Do you want to pet him? He won’t bite.

Wanda stretched her arm, placing her hand doubtfully over the soft fur that covered the rabbit. As soon as she touched him, she felt a wave of comfort, her nerves calming down as she petted the animal.

-Come on Pietro, he’s very soft.

-Are you sure he won’t bite? – Agatha tried not to smile at the worried face the little boy had, his sister scratching the bunny as if she had just seen the animal for the first time. Maybe she had actually never seen a rabbit before in her life.

-Quite sure Pietro. Your sister doesn’t seem worried, are you? – determination settled in his eyes as he placed his hand over the white fur, softening his features as he realized he wasn’t going to get bitten by the little rabbit. – I’ve had him for years; we have an understanding.

-You had a cat, you said it. What was its name?

-Her name was Ebony. I had to leave her somewhere dangerous to protect someone. Sometimes I miss her, but Señor Scratchy has helped me a lot, and I’m sure he’ll help you as well, Wanda. Do you want to take him, Pietro? – the boy hesitated but soon he had the little rabbit nestling in his arms, his nose twitching happily. – I have a few rooms that I don’t use, why don’t we go upstairs so you can choose one.

-We get a room for ourselves?

-Of course. Or do you want to sleep together?

-No! Pietro snores.

-And you talk in your sleep! – Wanda stuck her tongue out, mocking her brother as he turned his head as if he had been offended.

-Okay, then one for each. Come on, follow me.

-Was your son really bad? – the question took her a bit by surprise as she made her way to the staircase. It was her fault, she had mentioned him, but she really didn’t feel like talking about Nicholas. The silence that followed Wanda’s question almost answered it, Agatha’s form still with one of her feet on the first stair, the other one still firmly on the floor. – Sorry, I didn’t want to make you sad.

-It’s not your fault Wanda, you are just curious. – Agatha turned her head to give her a warm smile, she didn’t want to upset the child. - I just don’t want to talk about him, okay? Not today, I don’t want to make you both sad. Pietro, tell me, what things do you like?

-I like… cars. And cartoons.

-Very generic, but tell me, is there anything that you really love? I don’t know, maybe… sports? Science?

-I like physics. I’m very good at it, in school, I go to classes that are for older students.

-Is that so? Well, then you must be very smart. Maybe I can get you some books about physics.

-He doesn’t like books. He says they are boring. He prefers to play pranks on people.

-I don’t do that!

-Well, there won’t be any pranking in this house, I have very delicate objects that could do very bad things if you broke them, so all the pranks out in the garden, understood?

-Yes, ma’am. But I don’t do that. – Wanda smirked when he saw the frown on her brother’s face.

-Do you like anything else? – they made it to the top of the stairs into a hallway that communicated with six doors. The one closest to the stairs was ajar, and they could see that it was a bathroom, the one next to it, which was wide open, was Agatha’s bedroom, white pristine walls making a beautiful contrast with her dark purple carpet and duvet. The other three were closed, but the furthest from them had a lock on it.

-I like running, I’m the fastest in my class.

-There’s a school here in Salem that I’ve heard has a very good sports club, maybe we could look into it if you want.

-Salem? That’s in America, right?

-Yes, Wanda, we are in America.

-Mum and dad wanted to bring us here. They say that we will have a better life. – Wanda’s words gave Agatha a stabbing sensation in her chest. She didn’t think she could turn around without feeling that they had been robbed of a lifetime of happiness. They just wanted a better life for their babies. Reaching the third door she twisted the doorknob, opening it for the two little ones to go inside.

-We’ll honour that. I’ll make sure you have the best life you could imagine. We’ll make them proud, children.

Pietro looked around the empty room, the big windows covered in dust as he roamed it, but Wanda didn’t seem interested in seeing if she liked it or not. She took Agatha’s hand in hers, holding onto the older woman almost as if she were afraid, she would disappear into thin air. Squeezing her little hand, Agatha watched the boy as he stared at the walls, Señor Scratchy peacefully sleeping in his arms, reassuring Wanda that they were all there.

-Do you like it?

-It’s very big. What am I supposed to do with all this space?

-Whatever you want. You can have toys, maybe some drums, or a piano, or just a pile of dirty laundry.

-But that means a lot of money.

-We don’t have to spend money, not while I’m here. – with a questioning look the boy turned around, Wanda staring intensely at her as Agatha moved her long fingers skilfully while muttering words none of them understood. Out of thin air, a purple cloud seemed to form, making itself bigger and bigger, enfolding the room. Pietro screamed and run outside, placing himself behind Agatha’s back, the rabbit hopping off his arms, startled, which gave the boy the opportunity to place his arms around Agatha’s waist, which caused a chuckle to escape from the older woman as she worked. The once empty walls were now painted in a very soft blue with a white ceiling, posters of famous runners and sports players hanging from the now deep blue closet and walls, a ginormous bed filling up the empty space in the right side of the room, the print of a black Lamborghini over the thick duvet. The floor was now covered in a baby blue carpet, on the other side of the room she placed a wooden white grey desk with a matching chair. The purple cloud vanished with a snap of her fingers, Agatha smiling at her work. – What do you think Pietro?

-I… I like it.

-But there’s something you want me to change?

-I want… I’ve always wanted a car as a bed. Like you see in the television.

-On television Pietro. We can fix it. – With a wave of her wrist the bed changed into a super-realistic Lamborghini, the wheel still at the foot of the mattress, but the entire inside was nothing like the car that you would usually see on the road. The boy went inside the room again, looking around before he jumped onto the bed, kicking his shoes off as he kept on going over and over again from the floor onto the bed, laughing. – Now, let’s give it a Pietro touch, shall we?

Agatha twirled her fingers around, comics and books filling the empty desk, a radio and Cd’s making the shelves that were now gracing the previous semi-empty walls, a set of drums in the corner of the room, toys, teddy bears, anything a kid could imagine, filling an empty trunk that was underneath the window, which was now covered by blue curtains. Pietro’s eyes sparkled with joy as he looked around his new bedroom. Agatha had never seen a child this happy in her life, the ones she had met over the years had behaved like little brats, who she hated endlessly, but these two could be happy with just a bed and some food as long as they were together. It brought her so much joy to be able to give them what they had never expected to get, not even in their best dreams.

-We’ll leave you to enjoy your new things while we make your sister’s bedroom, okay? – he seemed to have forgotten they existed as he dove into his toy trunk, pulling out dolls and robots, laughing giddily. Leaving the door ajar the two girls walked over to the fourth door. They stood in front of it, Agatha waiting for Wanda to open it with her free little hand. Nervously she twisted the knob, pushing the wooden door to see a room more or less the same size as Pietro’s, but the windows were broken, the glass shattered, lying on the floor along with fist-size rocks. – Sorry about that, I had a few teenagers the other day trying to play a prank on me.

-What did you do?

-I think they are still being chased by the ducks I conjured. – that brought a small laugh from Wanda. At least she was still capable of laughter, maybe the shock would come later in the day, she would have to make sure to look out for any signs. Walking inside the room she sat on the floor, making Wanda sit over her crossed legs, taking her hands and hugging her. – Okay, Wanda, what do you like?

-I don’t know.

-You like sitcoms, do you not? You were watching a show when… when I found you.

-Yes. I also like cartoons.

-Alright, let’s do this slowly because I want you to help me, okay? – Wanda’s big green eyes stared at Agatha’s blue ones as she nodded, a questioning look over them. – I felt something from you, Wanda, and I think you might have a little bit of… magic, just like I do.

-I’m… I’m a witch?

-That is what I’m going to find out. Try to lift one of the rocks.

-How?

-Look at it and concentrate on moving it. Imagine it lifting from the floor and going out the window, okay? – with Agatha’s hands still holding onto her arms, Wanda held out both of her hands, staring intensely at one of the rocks. A surge of red magic made it rise from the floor and fly out the window. – That was amazing!

-I did that? I really did?

-You sure did, sweetheart. You are a very powerful witch.

-Like you?

-Maybe, we shall see. Let’s work on your room. – Agatha vanished the shattered glass and rocks, fixing the window in just a few seconds while the redhead still looked down at her hands, amazed by what she had done. – Imagine the colour you want on your walls, and I’ll help you if you cannot do the entire room, okay?

-I want it to be the colour of straw… straw… the fruit. I can’t remember the name.

-Strawberries?

-Yes, but I don’t want pictures of people running like Pietro has in his room.

-Okay, let’s work on the colour first. – the red magic poured out of her hands fast, bathing the walls, tinting them slowly. After several minutes she felt Wanda losing control, the red cloud spreading over the ceiling and floor as well. Grabbing her hands, she interrupted the stream of magic, Wanda panting, a worried look on her face as Agatha looked at her to see if she was okay.

-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.

-You just lost control, it’s okay, happens to the best of us when we are little. We’ll work on it, but look, you did a very good job, you almost finished the walls.

-But I painted the ceiling.

-It’s alright, we’ll fix it. You rest and I’ll wrap up this bit, then, you can tell me a bit more about yourself. – Agatha whirled her fingers, a white coat of paint covering the ceiling while the walls that Wanda had not been able to finish wrapped themselves up, her hands topping it all off by putting a light pink carpet on the floor. With that done she looked down at the little girl, smiling to make sure she understood she had done nothing wrong. She was powerful, far more than anyone she had ever met, maybe even more powerful than her, but she couldn’t scare the girl by screaming at her for not being able to control her magic, Agatha’s mum had not wanted to help her learn how to do it, she had managed to teach herself after many years, but she would help Wanda, she would teach her and guide her just as her mother should have done when they were in the coven before everything had happened. – You like sitcoms. Maybe you would like pictures of Lucy and Ricky or the Addams family?

-I like the Dick Van Dyke show. It’s my favourite.

-Then we’ll put up a poster of them. – from a cloud of purple magic appeared a big poster of the show, which by Wanda’s huge smile, she noticed she liked. – You tell me where I hang it.

-There, next to the window.

-Perfect. Any other series you want? I really liked the Munsters. I went out with a vampire when I was young, but he wasn’t really into walks around the woods and by the river, so I had to leave him. He also smelt like rotten cheese.

-Vampires exist?

-Yes, but I have garlic all over the house, no one will suck your blood, don’t worry. Maybe we could hang a poster of Lily and Herman? Maybe you prefer Eddie?

-I like Grandpa and Eddie.

-Alright, let’s set it up. – close to the door she placed a big picture of both characters. When she looked down, she saw a small doll in Wanda’s hands, one she had not been holding before. She had unconsciously conjured this little toy, probably to make herself feel more secure, she couldn’t blame her, she was only ten – What’s her name, dear?

-What? – Wanda stared surprised at her own hands, where a little duck with a pink dress and bow laid. – I don’t know. It’s not mine.

-It sure is Wanda, dear. You created it, it’s yours. Name her, come on.

-I don’t know… maybe…Webby? Like in Ducktales.

-You like those cartoons? – small stickers of the characters appeared all over the walls, a white trunk underneath the windows filling with cuddly toys from the series. Agatha could feel that Wanda was tired, probably because she was trying to control her magic although she couldn’t, afraid she might hurt the older woman. She didn’t want the girl to do that, it wasn’t worth it. – You are tired, I’ll finish your room and then we can have something to eat.

From another wave of purple magic came a big bed with a white veil, the print of Sabrina’s cat on the duvet, a soft pink desk on the other side, just like she had done in Pietro’s room, and a similar chair to accompany it. She didn’t want to push Wanda into telling her more about herself, what she liked, what she loved, what she was good at, she felt how tired she was. It would take her more time than what she had previously expected to get to know this little girl. Picking her up in her arms, she walked out of the room, the girl resting her head on Agatha’s shoulder, little Webby nestled in her chest as they entered Pietro’s room.

-Sweet Lord, you’ve already left your room a wreck Pietro. Tidy up and come downstairs, I’ll have lunch ready in just a bit, and I do mean tidy up.

-Is my sister okay?

-She’s just tired. You can use the bathroom to wash your hands before coming down.

He began to pick up all the toys he had managed to spread all over the floor as Agatha walked down the stairs, finding Señor Scratchy at the end, twitching his nose hurriedly, as if he was upset with her. Rolling her eyes at the rabbit she made her way to the kitchen and was about to leave Wanda in one of the chairs when she realized the girl had fallen asleep. She couldn’t bring her heart to let her go, so after pressing a sweet kiss on top of her head she began to take pots and pans out of the cupboards with quick movements of her free hand, potatoes, and vegetables coming inside through the window, leaving a trail of dirt on her clean floor.

She was so caught up in her work that she didn’t seem to hear Wanda’s whimpers as she nestled her face a little bit more into Agatha’s neck, the sound of water boiling and knives chopping covering them up. It was only after she felt a sharp pain in her head that she stopped in her tracks. She felt a mind-breaking through her barriers, sporadic images filling her brain, images that didn’t belong to her, a pain she could understand but that wasn’t hers rising in her chest. That’s when she felt the tears on her skin, the vibrations of Wanda’s whimpers on her neck. The little girl grabbed the older woman’s sweater in her sleep, her whimpers turning into sobs and words filled with hurt and worry. Placing a new set of barriers around her mind as strongly as Agatha could she sat on a chair, petting the girl’s hair. There were things in her mind she had to make sure the girl never saw, they were painful and dangerous, and she was far too young to understand them, they would scare her, prevent her from trusting her. They were forbidden for those who she could protect them from. Pietro almost flew down the stairs as he sensed Wanda’s distress, forgetting to dry his hands or turn the light out, worried the woman might have done something to upset his sister, but when he entered the kitchen he found her sitting on a chair, her sister in her arms.

-Shhhhhh. It’s okay Wanda, it’s fine. – the whimpers continued, words in another language spoken from the girl’s lips, and although Agatha knew around thirty languages, dead ones, and magical ones not included, this one wasn’t one of them. To her dismay, she couldn’t understand what poor Wanda was saying. – I’m here Wanda, wake up. Wake up, darling. – Her eyes fluttered open, tears still running down her cheeks as she held onto Agatha, trying to remember where she was.

-Mama. Papa.

-Shhhhh, it’s okay. You are safe. It was just a nightmare. There are no bombs, nothing here that can hurt you.

-It wasn’t nice.

-I know darling, nightmares never are, but it’s alright, it was just that. Whatever you saw, It’s not true. You are safe. Both you and your brother are fine with me. I would die before I let anything, or anyone lay a hand on you.

-Mama? – Agatha stared at Wanda’s eyes, an emotion on them she hadn’t seen in a person in over a hundred years. She didn’t deserve the title that the little girl was offering her, or at least not yet. She had spent less than eight hours with them, she couldn’t bring herself to accept it, she could take care of them, of course, but that was one thing and another completely different was to become someone’s mum. She couldn’t do that to these kids, erase the memory of their own parents in her favour, she was a stranger to them, but Wanda trusted her, an unconditional trust that Agatha herself could not fully understand.

-Sis? – Wanda’s eyes wandered to the kitchen door where Pietro stood, looking at them. There was a conversation happening between them, Agatha knew it, their eyes changing emotions so fast it was hard to follow since there were no words to match them. After a few minutes, he walked over to them, nodding at his sister, placing a hand on Agatha’s shoulder, a sad expression on his face, a sorrowful smile gracing his lips.

-Mama? – this time it was Pietro who spoke making Agatha’s chest swell with pride and love.

-Alright sweetheart. I’ll be both your mums if that’s what you need me to be. You are here with me, and I won’t let any nightmares haunt you. – brushing a few strands of red hair off Wanda’s face she smiled at the girl, stroking her cheek lovingly before looking at Pietro, who seemed to have agreed with his sister this was what they needed. – We need to talk about what you saw, but not today. I’ll get lunch and then you both can go to sleep; I’ll give you something, so you won’t have any nightmares. Just a small touch of magic and when you wake up, we can get to know each other, okay?

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Hello :) I saw that your requests are open so i figured i could try my luck and write you. Would you be up to write something with Charlie Weasley? Something with the same atmosphere of the music video "Wildest Dreams" by Taylor Swift? The song is stuck in my head and the mv is so aesthetical (somehow i can just picture Charlie with it). It would be super cool, however if that is too difficult maybe some fluffy first Christmas at the Burrow with Charlies first kid?

It sure has been a while, hasn’t it? I hope all of you are safe and healthy during this time.

I’m not sure if I’ve done a request with a song implemented in the story for this account, but here it is.

I wanted to get back into writing stories for this account because I recently started replaying Hogwarts Mystery and I missed creating stories for this blog.

This one is a little iffy, but I hope you all enjoy it and I’ll be posting more requests soon!

(Y/N) (L/N) had quite a reputation at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her connection to Jacob automatically made her a trouble-maker even though that was far from her true nature. However, no matter how many times she attempted to prove herself, negative rumors about her intentions spread around the school. 

As a first-year, she had hoped these rumors would come to an end as the years progressed, however, as she entered her fifth-year she realized they had only gotten worse. (Y/N)’s friends attempted to cheer her up, but the rumors that she would bring danger to Hogwarts had affected her self-esteem and she had begun to isolate herself from the rest of the students. 

Charlie Weasley noticed her strange behavior and began to worry about her well-being. He wasn’t used to seeing a frown on her face and her red nose and puffy cheeks made it clear she spent most of her time crying. 

Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Charlie grabbed his broom and a supply bag enchanted with an extension charm, fully determined to make (Y/N) feel better. 

Charlie headed towards the North Tower, knowing (Y/N)’s Divination class would let out in a couple of minutes. Charlie knew this way her final class of the day and she had fallen into the habit of retreating into her dormitory after her classes so, for his plan to work, he would have to reach her on time. 

Leaning up against the wall, he waited at the bottom of the Divination stairwell, counting the minutes until the class let out. The booming voice of the students came from the top of the steps, the students laughing as they descended the stairs. Charlie pushed himself off the wall, scanning their faces to find (Y/N). Once his eyes landed on her familiar features, a grin spread across Charlie’s face as he quickly approached her. 

(Y/N) stepped off the ladder and turned, only to come face to face with Charlie Weasley. His sudden appearance caught her off guards and she sheepishly looked away, “Hey, Charlie” she muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Hey, (L/N)” He smirked, his hand swiftly grabbing hers, “I’ve made plans for us today” Charlie stated, pulling her off to the side with a wicked grin. (Y/N) looked away with a small frown, not understanding why Charlie would want to suddenly sweep her away. 

“Charlie,” She uttered, furrowing her eyebrows, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to talk to me” She admitted, nervously gripping her cloak. She looked at the passing students, acknowledging their snide remarks as they stared back at her, “You’ll ruin your reputation”.

Now it was Charlie’s turn to frown, he leaned down to meet her gaze and squeezed her hand tightly, “What are you saying, (Y/N)” He asked sternly, his worry for her growing as she remained silent, “Do you honestly think I care about what the others say?” Charlie pried, but (Y/N) still did not answer his question. 

Charlie huffed, letting his gaze fall and his eyebrows furrow, “You don’t have to answer me, but I’m going to tell you this anyway” Charlie began, resting his broom against the wall, “I’ve gotten the chance to know you for who you truly are and I know you’re loyal, responsible, and one of the kindest people I’ve met here” 

(Y/N) was surprised by his sudden confession, but still could not meet his gaze, she still could not understand why he would want to get mixed up with her. Determined to prove his point, Charlie’s hand slipped underneath her chin, slowly tilting her head to meet his gaze.

He said, "Let's get out of this town Drive out of the city, away from the crowds" I thought heaven can't help me now Nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take me down” 

“You’re so much more than what they say and I will prove it to you” Charlie’s bright brown eyes meeting her (E/C) ones, “But you have to come with me, we’ll fly out of the city, away from these students, and we’ll have fun” Charlie grinned, his thumb gently trailing across her chin. 

(Y/N) began to blush darkly, his soft touches making her heart flutter. The two of them had grown close during their fourth-year but had not spent time together in the last couple of months, “I don’t know, Charlie...” She uttered, “I have a roll of parchment on Dream Interpretations due on Monday and I’m not sure if I should put it off...”

(Y/N) was nervous about what the students would say about Charlie if they saw them flying off-campus during the evening. However, despite her concerns, she couldn’t help fantasizing about what a relaxing evening with Charlie would be like. She let her guard down, her eyes examining his defined features as the blush on her cheeks deepened.

“Dream interpretations...?” Charlie whispered, tilting his head subtly, “Come on, (Y/N)” He pleaded, his hand cupping her cheek, “What does a bloke have to do to take a pretty girl out?” Charlie flashed her a bright, white smile, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but return it. 

He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad but he does it so well I can see the end as it begins

My one condition is

“My one condition is that you help me finish this assignment afterward,” (Y/N) replied a small burst of confidence in her voice after receiving Charlie’s compliment. 

Charlie nodded approvingly, lacing his fingers with her’s, “Then what are we waiting for?” He asked, pulling her down the corridor as quickly as he could. (Y/N) yelped as Charlie tugged her, but began to laugh as the two raced down the corridor. 

Charlie began to laugh with her, satisfied with hearing her laugh after only hearing her cries for the past month. He did not know how to describe it, but her laugh made his head turn, there was something so contagious about her laughter that always made Charlie feel comfortable. 

His heart began to beat faster as the two locked eyes and she shot him a playful wink, reminiscent of the ones she would give him during their fourth-year adventures. 

The two finally reached the Clocktower Courtyard, catching their breath in between their laughs. Charlie took this time to take in her beauty while she was distracted, the golden light of the sun illuminating her features. He examined her hair, her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, making sure to appreciate every single part of her in secret. 

Charlie dreamed of his future as a Dragonologist, but he also dreamed of finding the person he’d spend the rest of his life with. His wildest dreams were filled with magical creature explorations besides the woman he loves and will create a family with. Lately, (Y/N) had been appearing in Charlie’s dreams, where she usually cheered him on at his Quidditch Games or they spent time away on vacation together. 

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your Wildest dreams, ah-ha oh Wildest dreams, ah-ha oh “Have you ever ridden on the back of a broom before?” Charlie asked, getting (Y/N)’s attention. 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) shook her head in response, “I’ve ridden a broom, but never with someone else” She replied, raising an eyebrow at Charlie’s intention, “Just what exactly are you planning, Weasley?” 

Charlie chuckled softly, throwing his enchanted bag over his shoulder before mounting his broom, “Can I surprise you just this once, (L/N)? I promise I’ll impress you” He stated confidently, waiting for her to mount his broom. 

(Y/N) smiled, her eyes shining brightly as she agreed to Charlie’s questions. Shedding all her inhibitions, she climbed behind Charlie, wrapping her arms around his tone, but slender figure. 

“Hold on tight, (Y/N)” He whispered, giving her a small wink as he took off from the Courtyard. (Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut as her arms tightened around Charlie’s waist as she adjusted to the feeling of flying behind somebody. 

I said, "No one has to know what we do" His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room And his voice is a familiar sound Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now

“I hope your eyes are open!” Charlie spoke up as he flew them over the Hogwarts grounds, “I don’t want you to miss the view from here, I want you to take it all in!” Charlie exclaimed happily and (Y/N) opened one of her eyes to view the landscape. 

“O-Okay!” (Y/N) exclaimed, finally giving in and opening both her eyes, her arms relaxing as she grew more comfortable. Her eyes widened as they passed the Hogwarts towers, enjoying the wind flowing through her hair as Charlie safely guided them to their location. 

There were tall, dark green trees and multiple blue-green lakes covering the Scottish landscape, and (Y/N) began to feel relaxed. She had spent multiple days cooped up in her dormitory that she had forgotten how beautiful the scenery around her school could be. Looking up at Charlie, she noticed the small smile on his face as they flew past Hagrid’s Hut and through the Forbidden Forest. 

Even though they had not been out for long, (Y/N) was already beginning to feel better and she couldn’t help but feel indebted to Charlie for planning this. (Y/N) valued Charlie’s friendship, but she realized what she was currently feeling could be more than friendship. Her mind went back to their encounter in the corridor and the feeling of his thumb tracing over her cheek and chin. 

(Y/N) blushed, remembering the feeling of his face leaning close to her as he attempted to convince her to adventure with him. Her arms instinctively tightened around his waist, her fingers brushing against the muscles of his abs as she held on. This feeling only made her blush more as she imagined Charlie lifting crates and supply bags for Professor Kettleburn, it wasn’t much labor but it certainly helped Charlie define his figure.

He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad but he does it so well And when we've had our very last kiss My last request is

Charlie felt (Y/N)’s grip tighten around him again and he grinned as they touched down at their destination, “We’re here” Charlie announced, hopping off his broom then extending his hand to help (Y/N) off his levitating broom. 

Finally breaking away from her thoughts, (Y/N) slipped her hand into his and carefully stepping off Charlie’s broom. “Where are we?” (Y/N) asked, gazing at the surrounding trees and the flower beds that covered the area around the lagoon. 

“We’re at Grindylow Lagoon”, Charlie replied leading (Y/N) closer to the lagoon, “We can’t get too close to the water itself because of the Grindylows, but the area surrounding it is peaceful for students” 

“The flowers are beautiful, I never even knew this lagoon existed!”, (Y/N) exclaimed happily as Charlie pulled out his wand. She watched as the picnic blanket flew out of his bag along with plates, silverware, and food. 

“Well, I’m technically not supposed to bring anyone here,” Charlie admitted sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head, “But this was an exceptional situation that required some rule-breaking” 

(Y/N) begun to giggle, her blush obvious on her cheeks, as she shook her head at Charlie, “You’d risk getting in trouble for me?” She asked making Charlie roll his eyes in response. 

“Would you risk getting in trouble for me?” Charlie asked, raising his eyebrow teasingly at (Y/N) who obviously knew the answer to her own question. Shaking her head, she gazed up at Charlie with a smile, “Touche, Weasley” she stated simply, sitting down on the mat Charlie had prepared. 

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your Wildest dreams, ah-ha oh Wildest dreams, ah-ha oh “What can I say, (Y/N)?” Charlie said as he took his place beside her, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see that gorgeous smile on your face” He admitted bluntly, placing his hand atop hers. 

(Y/N) blushed once again, her eyes meeting Charlie’s as the sun set around them, “That’s very sweet of you to say, Charlie” (Y/N) admitting, giving his hand a light squeeze, “You’re the first person to get me out of the castle these past five months” (Y/N) let out a small sigh, gazing down at her lap as she recalled the vicious rumors her classmates spread throughout the years. 

As the two spoke, Charlie began passing (Y/N)’s various sweets he had collected from The Great Hall. Passing a warm Pumpkin Pasty to (Y/N), he reached into his bag and pulled out two drinking glasses, “Would the lady prefer Butterbeer or Hot Chocolate?” Charlie asked, making her giggle once again. 

“I’d like Butterbeer, please” (Y/N) replied, playing into Charlie’s scenario as he poured her a drink. Taking a bite of her Pumpkin Pasty, she shut her eyes and enjoyed the flavor of the warm pastry as the crisp breeze filled her lungs. Charlie chewed on some Salt Water Taffy as they enjoyed their treats in comfortable silence. 

Surprisingly, Grindylow Lagoon was calm and completely different from the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts Castle. The two listened to the buzzing of the bugs that covered the tall trees, to the sound of frogs croaking around them, and the soft-howls of creatures in the distance. Normally, most students would be spooked by the noises of the Forbidden Forest, but Charlie and (Y/N) were confident they would be safe as long as they stayed together. 

You see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow you around (Y/N) watched as the Grindylows swam through the lagoon, noticing the babies and the families as they traveled back and forth. “Do you think we’ll remember this when we graduate Hogwarts?” (Y/N) asked, breaking their comfortable silence, “So many life-threatening situations happen all around us and I’m afraid that is all we’ll remember when we’re done” She admitted, bringing her goblet to her lips, enjoying the cold Butterbeer running down her throat. 

Charlie was taken aback by her sudden question and thought for a moment, “I think we’ll remember the peaceful moments and the life-threatening ones” Charlie replied, finishing his Pumpkin juice. “I think these moments are even more special thanks to the types of adventures we have”, Charlie stated.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, “Why do you think that?” She asked, making Charlie smile as he gazed into his empty cup. 

“If you think about it, we’re always risking our lives to protect the school, especially you”, Charlie explained, “Since you’re always surrounded by threats and villains, these peaceful moments are special because they don’t occur as often”. (Y/N) begun to understand what he meant, “Everyone deserves to relax after saving the entire student body” Charlie smiled, grabbing a treacle tart to appease his sweet tooth. 

(Y/N) nodded in agreement, grabbing her own tart to enjoy, “I’ve never thought about it that way”, (Y/N) admitted, “But I agree with you, these are some of the moments I should treasure because they don’t occur as often” (Y/N) analyzed Charlie’s words, utilizing them to create her own conclusions. 

“I really appreciate you bringing me here, Charlie” (Y/N) spoke, her body moving closer to Charlie’s as she grabbed his hand. As time the sun went down, (Y/N) felt compelled to be honest with Charlie, “I’ve been having a difficult time because of all the rumors and I thought it would be easier to isolate myself than to face the situation” (Y/N) let her gaze fall, but she squeezed Charlie’s hand as she spoke. Charlie returned her squeeze, hoping it would encourage her to continue talking. 

“But you helped me realize that it rumors don’t define the type of person I am,” (Y/N) looked up at Charlie, leaning her body closer to his, “This might be bold of me to say, but I hope I can share more of these memories with you” (Y/N) admitted, a dark blush spreading across her cheeks as Charlie returned her loving gaze.

You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow you around

Charlie’s heart fluttered at (Y/N)’s words, he had always been impressed at her bravery when it came to the Curse-vaults, but this was a different form of admiration. He admired her smile and placed his free hand against her cheek, his thumb softly tracing the top of it as they spoke, “I’d be honored to be a part of your memories,” Charlie stated, his voice low and soft. (Y/N) leaned her cheek into his palm, giving his hand another squeeze once she heard his response, “You’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met and I will do everything in my power to keep you in my life”. The two of them were still young, but the passion in Charlie’s words was unmistakable. Charlie had grown up watching his parents’ healthy relationship and understood the love they shared for each other. It was their successful marriage that helped Charlie understand what type of relationship he wants for his future. 

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just pretend “Charlie...” (Y/N) whispered, leaning closer towards the Weasley boy, “I’m so happy to hear you feel that way”, She admitted, her eyes switching from his brown eyes to his lips. A blush appeared on her cheeks as she imagined what it would be like to lean in and kiss him, but she could not find the courage to. 

Charlie could read her like a book and the blush on her cheeks revealed her true intentions towards him. Letting a smirk play on his lips, Charlie leaned his face closer to hers as he tucked a strand of her (H/C) behind her ear, “Is there something you’d like to ask me?” Charlie asked softly, his hooded eyes meeting hers. 

There was something about Charlie’s gaze that caused (Y/N)’s heart to melt instantly. The blush on her cheeks darkened as she realized Charlie had caught on to her intentions, “Ha, you’re really going to make me ask?” (Y/N) muttered with an embarrassed tone. 

“Well, it’s not safe to assume,” Charlie teased, “I want to hear what you want word for word, then I’ll know we’re both on the same page” He confessed, pulling her face closer to his, ensuring her that he understood her intentions, “So, why don’t you tell me?” Charlie whispered, his soft lips brushing against her own.  (Y/N)’s heart almost jumped out of her chest at his words, his sultry tone making her head spin. They were so close to sharing their first kiss, but he was making her wait and ask. Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) recalled her encounters with the Curse-Vaults, were-wolves, and other mysterious occurrences at Hogwarts that required bravery and determination. 

Although this was not a life or death situation, she knew she needed to be brave if she wanted to get what she wanted. 

And what (Y/N) wanted right now was a kiss from Charlie Weasley, “Kiss me, Charlie” She stated confidently and a grin spread across Charlie’s face. 

“Gladly,” He replied, finally closing the small distance between their lips and kissing (Y/N) softly. 

(Y/N) immediately felt the sparks when their lips connected, the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as the two shared a kiss. Charlie instinctively wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, pulling her body against his as he deepened their first kiss. 

Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your (just pretend, just pretend) Wildest dreams, ah-ha oh In your wildest dreams, ah-ha oh (Even if it's just in your wildest dreams) ah-ha In your wildest dreams, ah-ha

Breaking their kiss, the two pulled their faces away but remained in each other’s arms, “I can’t believe you made me ask” (Y/N) laughed, pressing her forehead against Charlie’s. 

Charlie gave her a subtle shrug, “Will it make you feel better if I ask you this time?” Charlie teased, running his fingers through her (E/C) hair. 

(Y/N) smiled, pressing a kiss against Charlie’s cheek, “Well, we won’t know until you try” She said. 

Charlie rolled his eyes at her remark, “I better give it my best shot then” he stated, pulling her in for another kiss. (Y/N) happily returned his kiss, enjoying the moment they shared at Grindylow Lagoon. 

[myforeverforlife]

the sacrifice (part three).

Baekhyun sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his robes as he stared up at the night sky. The moonlight seemed to be reflected in his one blue eye, the mark of his family's magic.  If he could prevent the loss of another innocent life, he would do everything in his power to help. 

He only hoped that what he had was enough. 

Series Masterlist: ( 1 )  ( 2 ) 

Pairing: Baekhyun and Fem reader

Word Count: 5,894

Masterlist

Your legs were falling asleep from staying in one position for too long, but you didn't mind. Not when Tanie was lying contentedly in your lap, her fluffy tail lazily sweeping the floor below her.

"You're such a pretty cat, aren't you," you cooed. Tanie meowed as you ran a hand through her fur, marveling at how soft she was. Clearly, Minseok took good care of her. 

"Don't go stealing my familiar from me," Minseok joked, looking up from where he sat reading through a thick book. His reading glasses threatened to slip down the bridge of his nose, and he quickly pushed them back up. 

"What is a familiar, anyways? A pet?"

"It's a lot more than a pet," Jongdae said, sitting up in his armchair. "A familiar has their own magic. They're meant to help a witch get in touch with the craft, to support their power. Once a familiar chooses their partner, the bond lasts for a lifetime." He grinned as Dotori's bushy tail tickled at the nape of his neck, the chipmunk sitting perched on his shoulder. "It's a deep friendship that lasts for centuries." 

"Centuries?" Your eyes widened in disbelief. "How old can witches be?" 

"Very old," Minseok said quickly.

Jongdae smirked, leaning forward in his seat. "Grandpa over there gets sensitive when it comes to age. I'm the youngest, and I barely had my 100th birthday a few years ago." 

"A hundred?" you exclaimed. Tanie flinched at the sound of your voice, pupils shrinking to tiny pinpoints before she lay back down again. 

"But you look so young! You hardly look any older than I do." A soft chuckle from behind you caught your attention, head whirling around to see Baekhyun amused by your reaction. 

"Something about practicing the craft prolongs our lifespans," he said. "It keeps ancient people like Minseok alive enough to be a hun — "

Minseok leaped at him, the heavy book falling out of his lap as he threw his hands over Baekhyun's mouth. "Say another word, I dare you," he grumbled. 

Baekhyun's body shook with laughter, eyes turning to crescent moons as he weakly pushed the other man off of him. His cheer was infectious, and gladly welcome after the stressful couple of days you all had. The four of you had been poring over books, starting with the revered family grimoires and moving on to the rest of the books in the library in search of a remedy. So far, you hadn't found anything that would rid Sehun of his illness. 

At least the witches were comfortable around you now.

The animals had been the first ones to completely warm up to you, Dotori taking a spot on your shoulder whenever she wasn't with Jongdae. Mongryong was always trying to drag you outside to play, while Tanie was content with sitting on you for hours as you pet her. 

Seeing how attached their familiars were with you already, it was only a matter of time before you got close to the witches as well. Minseok had been the first one you felt comfortable around, which didn't come as a surprise since he had been taking care of you since your arrival. You had befriended Jongdae over your mutual love of teasing Dotori, which annoyed the chipmunk to no end. 

Even Baekhyun, cold and closed-off, was beginning to warm up to you. He was still quiet and reserved around you more than the others, but he managed to start up small conversations here and there. No longer did you have sit in a room with him and feel stifled by the awkward silence. Plus, having Jongdae and Minseok around always helped to bring out his playful personality.

It came as a relief that the three witches were starting to trust you. It was strange to realize that if things had been different, if the king hadn't supported the persecution of thousands of witches, you might have befriended the coven years earlier. 

Minseok finally gave up on attacking Baekhyun, confident that the clairvoyant wouldn't be disclosing his age any time soon. "I hate to say it, but I haven't found anything yet that I think would cure the prince — not even the slightest bit. Illnesses of this degree usually require cures in the form of stronger, riskier magic." 

Jongdae hummed in agreement, full of regret as he eyed the stack of books lying at his feet. "Neither have I." Throughout your search, both men had taken the time to explain why certain spells or concoctions wouldn't work for Sehun, Minseok drawing from his knowledge of potion-making and Jongdae from his affinity for spell-casting.

"We have to keep looking," you replied, carefully reaching out for your family grimoire. Tanie climbed out of your lap as you replaced her empty spot with the thick tome, running a hand over the cover. You had pored over the pages day after day, unable to find anything that would serve as a remedy for Sehun's specific symptoms. 

"The answers may not be in these books," Minseok continued slowly, sensing how your anxiety was starting to bubble up. "But there is still something that we haven't tried."

"What is it?"

Minseok glanced over at Baekhyun, raising an eyebrow. "The full moon is in a few days. Perhaps the scrying stone will show you something that will help us."

A small frown settled on your lips. "But it hasn't shown us anything that we can use." 

Baekhyun had already tried, locked in his room with only Mongryong for company as the rest of you waited outside. The stone hadn't been very helpful, only predicting a few changes in weather patterns and pesky bugs and animals threatening to eat through Minseok's garden sometime soon. You weren't sure what Baekhyun did when he was scrying, but you were already able to tell how fickle the skill was. The scrying stone always varied in what it chose to show, a few seconds of the future at one time, a few minutes the next. The only thing Baekhyun could do was wait and watch. 

"A witch's power is at its highest during the full moon," Baekhyun explained. “It's become tradition for us to hold a ritual on the night of the full moon, to get in touch with the full extent of our magic."

"Do you think it'll work? That the crystal will lead us to a cure?" you added, eyes widening hopefully.

Baekhyun paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know,” he replied truthfully. "But I have a good feeling about it."

"Don't worry, little witch," Jongdae piped up. "Baekhyun's too modest about his abilities. The full moon's never failed him before." 

You nodded, even as Baekhyun glared at his friend. "Okay. I trust you — all of you." 

Baekhyun's expression softened, the genuine honesty in your words stirring up an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. He hadn't felt hope like this in ages, a feeling so strong, it was all-consuming.

It was almost like magic.

With a determined glint to his eye, Baekhyun stood up to stare out the window at the darkening afternoon sky. It would only be a couple of days before the full moon was upon them, whether they were ready or not. 

"We'd better start preparing as soon as possible," Baekhyun murmured. "Gather all of the materials that we need." 

"Is there anything that I can do to help?" you offered. Magic wasn't your thing, but helping prepare for the full moon? Maybe something you would have better luck with.

Baekhyun met your gaze, a full moon of his own nestled in his left eye. It never failed to surprise you how strikingly beautiful both of his eyes were — the brown and blue complementing each other. 

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You don't need to force yourself to participate in the ritual, much less help prepare for it." 

You shook your head. "It's no bother to me," you admitted. "I want to learn about my family's craft. Plus, it'll help keep me from getting too tangled up in my worries."

Baekhyun quickly glanced over at the other two witches, all of them aware of the couple of times they had found you deep in thought, fighting internally with your own struggles and concerns. "Alright," he said.

"Let's get started." 

It was amazing how much time was spent preparing for the ritual in the following days. You hadn't realized how much of practicing witchcraft actually consisted of gathering necessary materials. Minseok had taught you how to gather specific herbs to be burned during the ritual, venturing into the forest with you and Tanie. Some items needs to be picked at certain times, like a handful of yellow dandelions plucked early in the morning right as the sun began to rise. Others were less difficult to find, like a couple of bay leaves from the witches' garden. 

Jongdae noticed how you took interest in the strange writing that you couldn't read, and offered to teach you how to read the language of the ancients. It was hard going at first, especially with getting used to a completely different set of written symbols in addition to an entirely new language. But soon enough, you were able to recognize certain letters of the alphabet here and there, much to Jongdae's delight.

While the other two witches taught you about specifics of the craft, Baekhyun took it upon himself to inform you about each step of the full moon's ritual. The four of you would set out late at night, setting everything up before starting the ritual at midnight. The full moon ritual was known for being extremely draining, but Baekhyun assured you that all of it was worth it for the results. 

"Using magic on the night of the full moon, it's like nothing else. But it'll be a long night," he warned as both of you sat at the kitchen table. "We might not be back until dawn."

"I'll be fine," you told him, crushing some dried herbs that Minseok had brought up from the cellar. "Nothing like sitting in the cold, dark forest all night." 

Baekhyun smiled to himself as you continued to crush the herbs with a mortar and pestle — a task that Minseok had assigned to you. "Make sure you don't fall asleep. It's important that all of us are awake and focused." 

"Even if I don't have any magic?"

"Even so. Any break in concentration could interrupt the ritual, cut off access to our power."

You gulped in worry, the importance of the ritual creating cracks in your confidence. Tonight was the night, and it was only a few hours away before the four of you would be heading outside. 

Baekhyun eyed you warily, noticing how quiet you had gotten. "It's not too late to back out, if you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," you replied stiffly. "Just nervous."

"Isn't that the same thing?" The witch laughed when you glared at him, a sight that you still couldn't get used to. "I mean it, Princess. You don't have to participate if you don't feel like it."

You pouted at his choice in nickname for you. It had caught on with all three of the witches, even as you protested and explained that just because you were the crown prince’s cousin, you weren’t necessarily a princess. As much as you complained, you hated to admit that the nickname was already growing on you. 

"If I'm not ready now, I don't know if I'll ever be." You returned to crushing the herbs in your bowl with renewed vigor, much to Baekhyun's amusement. 

"What's bothering you?" he asked, watching lazily with his arms propped up against the wood of the table. 

You worked away in silence for a bit, as if you hadn't even heard his question. "It's just that I have so many ideas about what I'm hoping will happen, and what if none of that turns out to be true? What if this is just another dead end?"

Baekhyun twiddled his fingers as he thought, the mole on his thumb disappearing and reappearing in between the movements of his hands. "It might be," he replied honestly. "I've learned that even with all of its power and potential, sometimes magic doesn't come to us in the ways that we want." 

The sudden shift in the mood had you pause in the middle of your work, stopping the rhythmic beating of the pestle. "What do you mean?" you asked carefully. 

Baekhyun raised his left eyebrow, the one curved over his blue eye. "Do you know what it means for someone in the Byun clan to have blue eyes?"

You shook your head. His mismatched eyes had intrigued you from the start, wondering what could cause such a unique contrast in colors, and yet you were too shy to ask.

"It's a sign of clairvoyance. My great-great-great-grandmother was the most skilled of our clan. I've heard that she had eyes so light, they almost looked white. She was powerful, not only able to see the future, but to change it as well. You can imagine my disappointment when I didn't even get the standard blue eyes of the Byun clairvoyants — just one." Baekhyun laughed dryly, sarcastically. 

"But one is better than none," you argued weakly. "I mean, you have the ability."

"I do, but not as much as I wish I did. Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with this other eye." He pointed at the pool of warm brown in his right eye, thinking of another person dear to him who once had eyes in the same brown color. "The same as my mother's," he added softly. 

Baekhyun coughed suddenly, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "It's just always lingering in the back of my mind, you know? The fact that no matter how hard I try, I don't have the same abilities that my grandmother had."  

"It might also be a good thing," you ventured. "It's not fair to have to live up to someone else's fame." With a shrug, you reached down to wipe your palms on your apron. "Sehun may be ill, but he's still a prince — and the only heir, to top it off. All his life, he's been groomed to be the perfect prince, the one to carry on the legacy of his family. But Sehun's not his father, or his grandfather, or anyone else. It's unfair to expect him, and you, to live up to meet standards that were set by someone else. The most that we can hope for is to be the best that we allow ourselves to be." 

Baekhyun sat stunned by your sage advice. He had decades of experience on you, and yet you seemed so much wiser. Perhaps you weren't as naive as he thought. "Thank you," he said softly. 

"You're welcome." And there it was again, another side to Baekhyun that you hadn't seen before. It made you wonder how much he and the others were learning about you as well, if they were just as surprised by what they discovered. 

You weren't the only one learning something new everyday. And yet, there was still so much to discover. 

The witching hour was almost upon you, much to your anticipation. Baekhyun was upstairs carefully wrapping up the scrying stone for the short journey the four of you would be taking, while the rest of you waited downstairs. Mongryong waited patiently at your feet, short stump of a tail wagging back and forth. 

Unluckily for poor Mongryong, your attention was on Jongdae. He stood beside you, black cape and pointed hat on as Dotori scurried up from his shoulder. She made her way onto his hat, perched on the edge even as it began to droop down. With a short squeak, she began running around over the fabric, much to Jongdae's dismay.

"Hey, quit it!" Jongdae exclaimed, his shouts turning to giggles as the chipmunk scrambled down from his head. In a flash, she disappeared down the back of Jongdae's robes, rendering him a mess or flailing limbs and laughter. 

You and Minseok watched on fondly, laughing at the sight of the chipmunk's tickle attack. Dotori reappeared at the collar of Jongdae's robes, tiny nose twitching in glee as she snuggled against him. 

"Yeah, yeah. You can try and be all cute with me, but it won't work." Despite his words, Jongdae scooped the tiny fluff of a chipmunk up and indulged her in a few berries. "What did I say about playing around on my hat? You could fall off and hurt yourself." 

Dotori only gave a small squeak before turning her attention back to her snacks. "Are all familiars as fond of their owners as she is?" you inquired, meeting the animal's eyes.

"Most are. I've heard of a few that are indifferent, but even those are fiercely loyal to their bonded." Jongdae shrugged. "No pairing is the same." 

"Which is a relief," Minseok added with a wide grin. "I don't think I'd be able to handle either Dotori or Mongryong's energy." He leaned down to kiss the top of Tanie's head, the feline resting easily in his arms. 

"I leave for two minutes, and you take this opportunity to insult my familiar?" Baekhyun's voice carried down the staircase as he descended. A bag was slung over his shoulder, presumably with the crystal inside. A midnight-blue robe was draped over his body, the fabric rippling smoothly with every step. 

Mongryong dashed over to Baekhyun with a cheerful bark, smothering the witch with love as he jumped up against Baekhyun's legs. It was endearing to see how close the witches were with their familiars — from Jongdae's playful relationship with Dotori, to Minseok's easy companionship with Tanie, and Baekhyun and Mongryong's intense loyalty to each other. Funnily enough, they reminded you of how close you and Sehun were. 

"Everyone's ready, then?" Jongdae asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

You nodded, even as you checked to make sure that all of the herbs and candles were tucked away neatly in your bag. The others would have things to carry as well, and you wouldn't hear of them shouldering heavy bags through the forest while you were left with nothing. 

The four of you left the warmth and comfort of the house and went out into the frigid night air, goosebumps immediately rising on your skin. You turned to see Minseok putting his own pointed hat on to match Jongdae, while Baekhyun pulled the hood of his robe over his head. 

"Why do you wear head coverings during the rituals?" you asked curiously, glancing from person to person. You had read about the tradition of wearing head coverings during the full moon rituals in one of the witches' books, but it had provided no explanation as to why. 

The brothers shared a look, but Baekhyun simply shrugged. "No real reason. It's just fun." 

Your brows jumped up in disbelief. "They're not important in affecting how the ritual goes? You don't wear them to help harness your magic?"

Baekhyun chuckled. "It's a hat, Princess. Or a cloak, in my case. It's not going to have any effect on our magic."

"Then why do you do it?" you spluttered out.

"Just for the fun of it." Noticing your flabbergasted expression, all three men burst into laughter. 

"I don't see what's so funny," you grumbled in your embarrassment. "According to your reasoning, I could be out tonight wearing a handkerchief on my head, and it wouldn't make any difference." "You could, but that would be ridiculous." Baekhyun's lip curled into a smirk. 

"No more than wearing a hat for no reason." 

Minseok interrupted, wanting to settle the squabble and actually get some work done. "The ancient witches wore headcoverings to protect their identities as they snuck away to meet up in the middle of the night. Now, they're more of a fashion statement." He chuckled, tugging on Baekhyun's blue hood. "Now come on, before we lose our chance. We don't have time to wait for the next full moon."

That sobered everyone up quickly, your small group of witches heading even further into the forest. There were no paths, and most of the journey was spent walking carefully around obstacles with only the light of a lantern for help. Mongryong took on the task of scouting ahead, toddling off into the brush ahead as the rest of you followed. Jongdae even began singing to himself softly to keep himself awake, Baekhyun's voice weaving and blending in to harmonize with the other's. The night chirpings of insects hidden away in the forest added to their music, creating an unexpected melody. 

You began to wonder if they were heading back to the stream where you first met Dotori. Mongryong let out a small yip of excitement as he wove back and forth between a cluster of bushes and trees. You followed after him, curious about what had gotten him so eager. 

You ducked around a few low-hanging branches, pushing past the last of the greenery only to be rendered speechless in awe by what lay on the other side.

Where you had been expecting a slow moving river was instead a large body of still water, the moonlight reflected perfectly on its smooth surface. The sound of the insects was even louder out here, although you couldn't spot another living creature apart from your small group. 

Mongryong walked to the water's edge, toeing the line but not going in. A sudden peal of laughter caught your attention, only to see Tanie mewling repeatedly as Minseok set her down on the pebbles that made up the lake's shore. The cat lifted up her paws gingerly, walking at an awkward angle as she scurried away back to the grass. 

"We've been doing this for years, and she still hates walking on the rocks every time," Minseok explained to you with a grin. "If she could have things her way, I'd be carrying her all night." 

Tanie finally relaxed as she reached the grass, settling down with her paws tucked underneath and her wise eyes watching over all of you. 

Time was of the essence, and the witches wasted no time in setting up. Baekhyun and Minseok got started on making a small fire while Jongdae went to gather water. You watched as he pulled out a bowl from his knapsack, dipping it into the pond. As he lifted it back up, the excess water spilled out from the edges, so luminous that you could have sworn he was collecting liquid moonlight. 

With steady, careful steps, Jongdae began to walk in large circles around the area where the rest of you were setting up, his pointed hat bobbing with each step. He was whispering to himself, casting a spell as he dipped his fingers into the bowl of water and letting the droplets fall to the ground every couple of steps. From what you had learned, the water was used to cleanse, to purify the area and to get it ready for the ritual. This was done to keep the magic contained, and to set up protection for the witches inside. 

"Y/N, the herbs," Minseok said. You pulled out the small pouch of herbs that you had collected and ground up, proud of your contribution to the ritual. He opened the pouch up just as Baekhyun managed to get a flame going over the tiny pile of dry brush and twigs, a proud smile lighting up the clairvoyant's face. 

"Perfect," Minseok breathed out, reaching inside the pouch and slowly letting the ground herbs fall into the fire, immediately producing a sharp fragrance that tickled your nose. 

Baekhyun sat down on the bumpy, rock-blanketed ground and rummaged through his bag for his scrying stone. He pulled it out delicately, handling the rounded crystal with extreme care. Mongryong, finally done with playing at the edge of the lake, faithfully came over to lay down beside his owner. The corgi's eyes were fixed on the small crystal, waiting patiently. 

You were just as entranced as Mongryong, not knowing what to expect. The crystal hadn't changed in appearance, even as Baekhyun ran his hands over it, eyes closed in concentration. 

Jongdae shook out the last drops of water in his bowl before sitting down on your other side, four witches and a couple of familiars forming a ring around the small fire. "We're ready," he stated, adjusting the brim of his hat. 

Minseok nodded, continuing to toss the ground-up herbs into the hot flame until none were left. Wordlessly, he reached out to Jongdae and Baekhyun, the other two immediately linking hands with him. You were startled to see them extend their hands towards you as well, waiting for you to complete the circle. 

The queasiness in your stomach wasn't because you were scared of the witches — nothing could be farther from the truth. Instead, you were scared of the unknown. This could be your last real chance to find a way to save Sehun, to revive the brightness and vitality to his face that had slowly waned over time. If this didn't work, you weren't sure how you'd be able to deal with it. 

But hope was all you had now. Hope, and magic.

You linked hands with the others, Jongdae's still slightly cold from the water while Baekhyun's was warm from sitting close to the fire. 

Minseok closed his eyes and began to speak in the old language — the language of the ancient witches. A sudden chill ran down your spine, an unfamiliar tingling sensation prickling over your skin. The feeling almost made you let go, but Jongdae and Baekhyun held on tightly to your hands.

Was this what sorcery felt like?

The cold prickling sensation faded, leaving behind an unusual feeling that seemed to spread throughout your body. It was warmth and comfort all wrapped up in one, and yet left the hairs on your skin standing straight up. 

You weren't sure how long the four of you sat there, hands clasped tightly while Minseok chanted under his breath. Baekhyun's earlier warning about staying away kept poking at you in the back of your mind, and you made an effort to keep your eyes open. You didn't dare to look at the others, staring down at your legs crossed beneath you for fear of getting distracted and losing focus.

After what felt like centuries later, Minseok opened his eyes. The after-effects of the ritual still lingered,  the magical warmth keeping you cozy even as you sat outside in the cold.

The others finally let go, Baekhyun's hands immediately finding their way to the crystal resting in his lap. He cupped it with both hands, eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled deeply. 

You let out a soft gasp as the crystal began to glow, swirling clouds appearing inside the tiny sphere. Even Mongryong was staring at it, his rounded eyes staring solemnly as everyone waited. 

"It may take a while," Jongdae whispered to you. "Don't worry." 

"What do we do?" you asked. 

Jongdae stretched his arms up high above his head, letting out a long breath of air. "Now, we wait." 

Honestly speaking, you were getting fed up with waiting. But you had learned by now that there was no rushing when it came to witchcraft. However, it didn't mean that you weren't bored.

Minseok had pulled out his reading glasses and taken another look through your family grimoire, even as you worried about him reading next to the fire. "I'll be fine," he waved you off easily, all too immersed in the book. 

Jongdae had been content with giving Dotori small treats every so often, but eventually began to show signs of boredom as well. Both of you started up an impromptu game of seeing who could build the tallest pebble tower, stifling hushed giggles while Minseok rolled his eyes from across the fire. The game was quickly abandoned once a pebble fell over, clattering against the rocky floor as you and Jongdae both looked up to see Baekhyun's reaction.

The witch didn't move, although you could have sworn that there were wrinkles between his eyebrows that weren't there before. 

It was absolute agony to wait for news — good or bad, but you supposed it was even worse for Baekhyun. Every so often, he would mumble to himself, the rest of you leaning in to hear what he had to say. Most of it was indecipherable, and the few words that you did catch didn't seem to make any sense. 

All of a sudden, Baekhyun let out a loud gasp, eyes flying wide open. Mongryong immediately jumped up and began nosing at his hands. 

"What? What is it?" Minseok demanded.

Baekhyun's hands were trembling, fingers tapping against the surface of the glass ball in an irregular rhythm. "A mountain," he said, voice so quiet you had to scoot closer to hear. 

"A mountain, and an entrance. There's books lining the inside, covering all of the walls — almost like a library. The Cave of the Ancients." He stared at the crystal without blinking, hypnotized by what he saw inside.

Minseok's eyebrows jumped up in disbelief. "It's real?"

"What is the Cave of the Ancients?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to distract Baekhyun.

"A children's tale," Minseok replied in a hushed whisper as Baekhyun continued to stare into the crystal. "They say that this is where the oldest, most powerful secrets are kept. But no one's ever been, and there's no proof that it exists."

"I see an open field," Baekhyun continued, "Beyond the kingdom's reaches, by the sea. It's covered in mist, and..." Baekhyun groaned, eyes closing shut. His breathing started to become irregular, chest heaving with each breath of air. Even Mongryong was starting to get agitated, whining loudly. 

"Baekhyun, drop it," Jongdae exclaimed as Minseok reached forward to pry the clairvoyant's hands off of the crystal. You jumped in to help, Minseok finally managing to wrench Baekhyun's hands off of the sphere as you pulled it away. 

The scrying stone lost its haziness, returning to its original glassy appearance in your palms. 

Baekhyun was still panting, sweat beading on his pallid face as he pressed a hand to his chest. "I heard my mother," he gasped out. "She was in the field."

Jongdae's face turned white, mouth falling open in realization. "The Valley of Lost Souls."

With a low moan, Baekhyun nodded, head in his hands as Minseok tried to get him to drink from a canteen of water. 

Your blood ran cold with fear. "What does that mean?" you asked Jongdae. For Baekhyun to react like this, it must have been something terrifying. 

"In the myth about the Cave of the Ancients, it's said that to reach it, one must first pass through the Valley of Lost Souls. It's not supposed to be real." Jongdae ran a hand over his face, fingers stopping at his chin as he watched Baekhyun worriedly. 

"Neither is the Cave of the Ancients," Minseok added. He used some of the drinking water to dampen a rag, pressing the cold cloth to Baekhyun's forehead. "You're sure of what you saw?"

"It's like I was right there. She was calling out to me." Baekhyun's voice broke at the end. 

"But it wasn't her," Minseok reasoned calmly. "In all of the stories, the people in the Valley are only illusions, remember? They'll take your soul if you wander too far." He shook his head. "I don't like this. There has to be another way to find a cure." 

"We have to go. It's what the stone showed me, and there's been no other answer." A healthy pink flush was slowly returning to Baekhyun's skin, chasing away the eerie, chalky pallor that had been there only minutes ago. "We made a pact to save not only the prince, but the rest of the witches that still remain. We're doing this so that we don't have to hide in fear anymore, Min. It's a risk that we have to take."

Minseok sighed. "I'm worried, especially after what happened now. And besides, it's not just the three of us anymore." He turned to you, Baekhyun following his gaze. 

"I'm prepared for anything," you stated firmly. "But is it actually possible for us to find this place? You said it yourselves — this is a thing of myths and rumors."

"It was by the sea," said Baekhyun. 

Mirumi was the only kingdom bordering the sea, but it would also mean at least a week's journey — and going outside of Elyxere. You hadn't been outside of the kingdom since you were a small child, and that had been with your parents.  But you would travel to the ends of the Earth for your cousin. This was the closest you had gotten to finding an answer, and you wouldn't lose this chance.

Chin set in determination, you nodded. "I agree with Baekhyun, I think we should go. We all knew that this could be dangerous, but that shouldn't stop us. This is our only strong lead right now." 

Baekhyun smiled in relief, satisfied with your decision. "Jongdae?" 

The youngest witch sighed, glancing between his brother's face and Baekhyun's before nodding. "Sorry, Min. They've got a point." 

Minseok's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Alright. But," his voice hardened. "Staying safe is the most important thing. I'm not losing the rest of my coven." 

"Hey." Jongdae moved closer to his brother, resting an arm over his shoulders. "It's all going to be okay. We've got each other." 

Tanie meowed in agreement from her patch of grass, far away from your circle around the fire. The rest of you had practically forgotten about her during the events of the ritual.

"Thanks, you silly cat," Minseok replied with a wry laugh. "You won't even come walk on the rocks to comfort me?"

The white cat laid her head back down, tail lazily swishing back and forth behind her, much to everyone's amusement.

"We're going to need a wagon," Baekhyun said aloud. "It'll be impossible to ride on horseback with all of these familiars." He reached up to pet Mongryong, visibly relaxing as the corgi snuggled closer to him. 

"Then that'll be the first thing we do in the morning. But for now," Jongdae snuck a peek at you. "I think the princess might need a nap." 

You blushed bright pink. Was it that obvious that you were barely awake right now? 

The witches laughed at your surprise. "Don't worry, little witch," Jongdae told you. "The first full moon ritual is always the hardest. I'm surprised you managed to stay awake this long."

"I feel like I'm drop off to sleep any second now," you whined. 

"Alright, let's head back. We'll set off around midday, once everyone's gotten some rest," Minseok announced. 

As the fire was put out and all traces of the ritual cleared away, you still felt the lingering sensation of sorcery begin to fade away. Weariness began to set in — both from the long hours spent awake, and the thought of what lay ahead.

It was going to be a long, long journey, but it was one that you had to take. 

Tag list: @shesdreaminginoverdose​ and @bbyunz​ A/N: it’s been a month since I updated, but i’m so relieved to finally finish this chapter. i’ve been spending time going over my fic outline trying to figure out if I still need certain parts that I originally planned, and adding in new things that I didn’t have before. i want to say that this is the halfway point in the entire fic? it might be about 6 chapters and an epilogue (but like most of my writing plans, all things are subject to change haha)

also, even though i’m not writing whole fics for jongdae anymore, i love getting to write for him as a side character in this fic 🤣 cbx as witches might be my favorite characters that i’ve written (aside from spiderman jongdae and 1920s detectives cbx)

[watercolourferns]

The Honey Pot, part 1

For @kobresias (Kore) and @finally-romancable-npc (Marcone) Zayn turned out a bit snarkier than normal in this one. XP I promise here will be less witchcraft and more domesticity in the next part! ^^UUUU Marcone x Kore x Zayn | Domestic Fluffy Witchcraft | Polyam | Seeing!Marcone | Modern AU

Overview:   “...I said I was sorry, I didn’t know it was catnip, I thought it was mint!” Zayn groan, making the others laugh again. “But, it could be a good thing to try… what could we summon? A swarm of bees??” he added walking behind Kore. 

“I can’t find it!” “I’m sure it’s somewhere in the pantry, my sweet prince,” Kore’s voice said reassuringly from the living room. The dancer huffed, crawled out from the lower cupboard, bumping his head in the process. “Oh shit!” “Are you alright, my moon??” Marcone’s worried voice came from the mud room as he entered the kitchen from the backyard, hurrying to the tiny figure curled up in front of the opened cupboard door. “Yes…” Zayn groaned, rubbing the top of his head as the man pulled him easily to his feet. “I just bumped my head… and lost my honey pot…” Marcone chuckled and hugged the smaller witch, kissing the place where he had bumped himself. “Oh, Zay. I’m surprised, you fit in that cupboard sitting down perfectly…” he said, stifling another chuckle. “Is he alright? I heard the bump. I’m surprised, too,” Kore said, looking into the kitchen, a playful glint in her eyes, tossing her long gray braid over her shoulder as she settled on a stool in front of the island. “Har har…” Zayn snarked back, making both of them snicker again. “Y’all I’m serious! I lost my honey pot, it was an antique!”

The taller ones subsided and made a collective sigh, finally realising the seriousness of the matter. The woman stood up and wrapped her arms around both of her lovers, kissing them both softly and smiling. “Should we try out a seeking spell?” she asked, excitement barely contained. How she loved to do witchcraft with both of them! Marcone worried his lower lip. “Precious, last time we did something like that all the stray cats of the neighbourhood came meowing at our door, remember?” Kore laughed softly, “It was not my fault, was it, Marc?” She gave Zayn a little nudge as she let them go and walked to the pantry. “...I said I was sorry, I didn’t know it was catnip, I thought it was mint!” Zayn groan, making the others laugh again. “But, it could be a good thing to try… what could we summon? A swarm of bees??” he added walking behind Kore.

“That isn’t a good prospect either way, my moon,” Marcone mumbled pulling out a tray from behind the island with a pestle and mortar and candle holders and placing it on the island’s countertop. “Colour of candles?” “White!” both Kore and Zayn called from the pantry, afterwards coming out with garlic, caraway, and rosemary. “This is going to smell up the house,” the dancer said, opening up the jar of homemade powdered garlic. He sounded cross and distant. Kore looked over at him and ran her fingers through his unsually loose hair, lifting his chin up. “Hey, my love, it will be fine. You’re not useless for losing the pot, you do know that right?” she said, looking him directly in the eyes, eliciting that soft blush she liked so much. The dancer sighed a huffing sigh and nodded, albeit averting his hazel eyes. The woman smiled softly, letting him go knowing it was as much as she was going to get for the moment. Zayn was stubborn when he wanted to be, she knew that very well. He was a little like her in that sense, and even though ti gave them a bit of a headache sometimes, she wouldn’t have him any other way.

Marcone settled the candle holders with fresh white candles and opened the jar of caraway. “What is this one for again? I use them on the rye bread I make sometimes, gives it a fresher taste…” he said, pouring some of the seeds in a crystal candy dish. He was new to witchcraft. Of course he could do magic, but witchcraft was different. It required ritualistic preparations and it harnessed power in a different, more intense way. He wasn’t scared of it, but he practiced a lot of caution around it: he had seen it go wrong and was concerned about that. “Things with caraway in them are thought to be less likely to be stolen…” Zayn said softly, “Garlic is for attraction, some say it’s for passionate attraction, but attraction is attraction and intent is everything…” He took the garlic, poured in in the dish and then took the rosemary Kore gave him. “Rosemary dispels thieves and jogs memory…” “Wait, my moon, do you think-?” “Someone stole my honey pot? Yes, I do. I took it to the baker’s fair last sunday. And it’s mysteriously gone… I remember putting it on the table for decoration and forgetting about it, but I wasn’t the one who packed things back up, it was Lorenzo. I don’t think he took it, he’s too nice for that. But I can’t find it, so I think someone stole it when we weren’t looking…” the tan witch said, looking down at the candy dish. “It’s partially my fault, I let the tiredness get to me; but that doesn’t mean I deserved something getting stolen from me…” Kore nodded, bumping him with her hip. “Well said, darling. But it isn't even your fault at all, partially or full. People need to stop touching things that aren’t theirs…” she said darkly. Marcone smiled nervously. “I don’t want to get on the wrong side of either of you… ever…” he said, chuckling slightly. Both people looked up at him and laughed, too, walking up to him and sitting him down on a stool. “Do we scare you, Marc?” Kore whispered, twirling the wavy salt-and-pepper tresses in her left hand, coiling one around her sixth finger. “Yes, cariño, do we…?” Zayn said, standing in between Marcone’s legs and looking up at him as he caressed the man’s beard. The former soldier gulped and blushed. Was he ever going to get used to having both of these flirts do this to him? Probably not, but he didn’t mind regardless of his pulse racing and his cheeks blushing violently. He felt fortunate to have them both in his life…

“Gods above, you will be the death of me, you two will,” he murmured, first kissing Kore’s lips slowly, then Zayn’s, wrapping an arm around both their waists and bringing them closer. “I will have a heart attack one day if you keep coming onto me like this, you dryads…” “Oi, now, I’m the dryad, Kore-Sidhe is the beautiful fae goddess,” Zayn said, smiling and pulling away from them to get the candle. “Do the honours, teddy bear?” Marcone blushed again, but smiled and touched the wick of the candle with his index finger, making it light up with fire. Zayn placed it on the countertop and sighed, walking around it to the front and placing both hands at either side of the candy dish, kneeling on a stool to reach properly. “Let it be returned What has been stolen For whoever took it Till the wrong has been righted, Will know no peace...”

His voice sounded distant and with an echo as he spoke, taking the candle from the holder and lighting up the herbs in the dish, which sparked burning up rather quickly. “Is… that good?” Marcone asked, ready to douse the dancer should he catch in flames. “It looks like he’s going to singe his lashes…” “Oh, he will be fine. I think the universe is listening to him,” Kore said, smiling, proud of how far the little dancer had come in terms of witchcraft. “Ooooh… Yes, it has!” Zayn had opened his eyes, looking up. They were glowing the trademark blue of the Sparkles that always surrounded him. Both taller ones could feel the electricity in the air, and just as suddenly it was gone, his eyes back to their soft hazel. He sighed as if he had stopped breathing for a long while and relaxed his pose, yawning. “That was amazing, Zay! It really was!” Kore said, kissing his cheek once he had slid off the stool and walked to them. “It looked… like quite something, my beautiful moon. Are you sure you’re alright?” Marcone asked, pulling him into his arms, ever the slightly clingy type. “Yes, I’m just thirsty, I don’t usually use fire in witchcraft, I’m more of a water bender,” he said, winking and laughing softly. “HA! I got that reference!” Kore exclaimed in her own way, pointing at Zayn, who nodded as he poured himself a glass of water. “And now what? We wait?” Marcone asked, putting the tray away, dumping the cinders of the herbs in a coffee can. They would use them, at the end of the month, together with the rest of the ash in there to create black salt. Both witches nodded and pulled him to the living room to snuggle on the sleeper sofa, pushing the ottoman in place to create a comfortable mattress, while they paid no attention to the show on the smart TV. They settled in their respective positions, Marcone spooning Kore who spooned Zayn, and smiled. Suddenly a huff was heard and Danae, Marcone’s huge mastiff poked her head over the sleeper’s edge. He huffed again, getting Zayn in the face, making him laugh and pat the sofa. “Come on then!” he said, making Marcone groan. “You do know she’s going to push someone off the bed and that someone is probably going to be me?” he said, nuzzling Kore’s soft hair. “Lucky for you this isn’t a bed!” Zayn chirped, booping the dog’s nose, making the man groan again. Kore simply chuckled, pulling Zayn closer and snuggling, sandwiched between the two. Two hours later, right after sunset two figures swooshed in through an open window, one of them landing on the sofa, pecking at Zayn’s exposed ear while all three slept. “Hmmm…” he protested, then without looking up he pointed at the fruit bowl in the dining room. “Avocados are there… cut open already… let me sleep, please…” Jawahir cooed, pecked him affectionately again and flew to his fruit bowl, pecking aggressively at the fruit. “Are we going to sleep here…?” Marcone asked stifling a yawn, woken up by the small commotion.

“Yes…” Zayn mumbled, the gray haired witch turning onto her back.

“Maybe,” she whispered and turned again, resting her head on Marcone’s chest. “You two do realise the bed upstairs is bigger and more comfortable…?” the man said again. “My feet don’t dangle there…” “Nobody told you to grow that much…” Zayn groaned, curling up and covering his face with his hair. “If you want us to be upstairs, you’re going to have to carry me…” “Uh, you’re right, bed is better… Is he always this cranky?” Kore asked teasingly, sitting up and starting to untangle her hair. “Or is this a new phase?” “Oh, no, precious… Try waking him up early for an appointment, cranky is an understatement. Alright, my moon, come on…” Marcone said softly, standing up with difficulty and taking Zayn up like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. The dancer hissed and squirmed but a hand on the small of his back prevented him from falling off. “Unhand me! Unhand me, I tell you!! It’s inhumanly early!” “Zayn, my love, it’s barely 7 in the afternoon!” Kore giggled, pinching his cheek. “You’re too moody for such a fun size, you know?” “I-uh… shush…” Zayn spluttered, blushing furiously, crossing his arms as he stopped fighting, hanging from Marcone’s shoulder as they all walked up stairs. Marcone barked a laugh. “I think you and Danae share one feeling when being woken up,” he said, looking at the dog as she followed them, not at all pleased. Kore patted her gently on the head. “But you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” The dog barked softly, wagging her tail at Kore’s compliment as if to say “Yes, I am, you’re right!”. Just then Jawahir circled and landed on Zayn’s butt, making his eep in surprise. “You have no decorum, do you…?” he mumbled as the bird settled there, cooing to Danae softly. Reaching the bedroom, Marcone gently left Zayn on the wooden floor, gracing him with a soft kiss before going in to change. The dancer blushed again, sighed and follow him and Kore, starting to undress. “Just so both of you know, I’m sleeping in the middle tonight, due to all these grievances…” he muttered, tossing his t shirt and jeans in the laundry bin, pulling out and on an oversized tattered shirt, and crawling under the covers, pulling them up to his forehead, like an angry teenager. Kore sighed, shaking her head with a small smile, pulling her silk and lace silver night down, rebraiding her long, soft hair. She looked into the mirror, her bare pretty face looking right back at her, her tattoos contrasting with her skin and her gown in the pale moonlight.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are…?” Marcone said, placing a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder as he passed on his way out of the bathroom, chest bare, plaid flannel trousers on. The woman blushed softly and straightened up, going to the man and kissing a scar on his back. “You say it so prettily I might believe it myself, my handsome knight…” Marcone smiled back at her, and caressed her cheek softly before turning the light off and guiding her to bed, opening the covers for her. Once she was settled he went to his side of the bed, sliding inside it, stretching as he did so. “Are you speaking to us at all…?” Kore said, poking Zayn’s side from under the covers. “Eek! Kore-Sidhe!” Zayn pouted, pulling the covers down. “I’m sorry… I’m just-” “Mad at whoever took your pot. But it wasn’t us, my moon…” Marcone said, laying on his side, propping his head up with a hand, like a roman. “Or was it…?”

Zayn sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be too snarky. Can you please forgive me…?” The other two smiled and hugged him, kissing either side of his face and nodding. “Of course, my darling summer king. I’ll always forgive you if you ask this prettily…” Kore said, nuzzling him gently, a hand playing his with dark locks. Marcone hummed and kissed the dancer’s neck softly. “Marcone… don’t…” the dancer protested. “And why not…? Maybe you could use some… release…?” the man said, his breath hot against the dancer’s tan skin. “Oh, why I hadn’t thought about that…? Maybe you yourself need a bit of a honeying, my love…” Kore purred, snaking a hand under his shirt. “Oi… wait… I…” Zayn mumbled, but then gasped and melted into their touches. “You will have to trade two nights for me, though… Today was my turn,” Marcone growled against Zayn’s stomach. “Fair is fair… Tomorrow we’ll see more about your honey pot, darling…”

The dancer nodded, speechless. Honey pot? What honey pot…? To be continued...

[mrsmodric]

(Not) Just A Name

Pairing: Ivan Rakitic/Luka Modric

Summary: Luka has adopted a son and Ivan visits to meet the new family member. Then he overhears Luka talking about him and things take their course.

Note: The wonderful and beautiful @croatian-nt inspired me to write this. Thank you so much for trusting me with your idea, Rin, I hope you like this. 

--------

The door bell rang. Luka straightened himself and waited for another moment, as if he hadn't been waiting right by the door the whole time. Taking a deep breath, he opened it. Outside stood exactly the man he had expected to see, his smile even a bit wider than what Luka had imagined.

"Hi, dad," Ivan said in a happy tone and pulled Luka into a hug with one arm, the other one being hidden behind his back.

- "Hello, Ivan," muffled Luka into his chest. 

Ivan let go of him, put his free hand onto Luka's right shoulder, and scanned him top to toe. "Fatherhood suits you," he said and grinned. Before Luka could reply anything, Ivan pulled out his hidden hand from behind and held something grey and fluffy in Luka's face. "A koala," he explained. "Thought I could endear myself to your little fella by bringing him something that reminds him of his dad."

Luka just sighed as a reply, stepped aside and gestured Ivan to come in. Ivan did as he was wordlessly asked to, handing Luka the koala and then walking straight forward to where he knew the child's room had to be. "There are worse things to be compared to than koalas, believe me," he said. Ignoring Luka opening his mouth to reply something, Ivan continued, "I'm really happy for you, honestly. But-," he stopped and turned around to Luka who obviously was still thinking about the koala bear -,"I can't believe I wasn't- I mean we weren't included in decorating his room."

- "I’ve already explained it to you," Luka began. "I didn't want to tell anybody, because until the very last moment I feared something could go wrong."

It was true. He had planned on adopting a child for more than one year. Always wanting a child, Luka had waited for the right person to have one with. Life being life, the right person hadn't shown up. Only that in Luka's eyes he had, but they weren't together. One way or another – after thinking a bit about it for a while, he had asked himself why he should wait any longer. He wasn't exactly poor and should be able to get a child trough life. Fast forward and the adoption agency he had picked out had called him with good news. Although having planned the decoration and everything else already a long time ago, Luka couldn't believe it until he had finally held his four month old son in his arms for the first time.

"But it didn't, right?" Ivan asked and Luka shook his head, smiling. Ivan returned the smile, then continued moving to the right room. The door was open, but he hesitated before he stepped in and turned around again. "Am I correct when I assume that I'm the first one to meet him?"

- "From the team, yes, you are," Luka confirmed. "Don't be smug about it," he added when Ivan looked rather pleased about this fact. "Come on now, if you're lucky he's awake right now," he said, entering the room. Luka, who of course had been here multiple times, walked directly to the crib, putting the koala directly next to his son and a little sheep plushie that was already with him. Ivan had stopped right behind the entrance and looked around with fascination. The whole room was basically designed as a forest, the walls painted with trees, deers, birds, foxes and rabbits. The changing table and a cupboard were perfectly integrated into the painting. A rocking chair stood by the window facade, the crib was placed in the middle of the room.

"If you want to put down roots by not moving, you'll perfectly fit into this room," Luka said, grinning at the sight of Ivan being lost for words for once.

Looking from left to right, Ivan slowly moved towards Luka and the crib. "It's pretty, it really is," he finally said, when he arrived. "And so is your son," he added, when he eventually took a look at him, Luka growing taller from pride at the words "your son". The baby was barely awake, obviously fighting the sleep, but still eyeing Ivan with some kind of curiosity.

"May I hold him?" Ivan asked, already stretching out his arms.

- "Of course, just be careful," Luka replied, holding his breath while watching Ivan picking up his son. However, his worries were unjustified, as Ivan did it with such softness that Luka never before had seen of him. He bit his lower lip to hold himself back from swooning when he saw how Ivan smiled at his son, stroking his cheek with one finger. 

The right person, Luka thought, watching a picture unfolding in front of him, that he had secretly dreamed of.

"So," Ivan said, interrupting Luka's thoughts, "I'm Ivan, nice too meet you. And you are-?"

Luka chuckled. "Ivan, this is Ivano," he said.

- "Ivano?"

"It's just-"

- "I'm flattered." Ivan laughed as if he were joking. The truth was, he was really touched, although he knew all too well that it most likely meant nothing. Deciding to joke about it, he nodded at Ivano and said, "Big footsteps you're going to walk in."

Ivano's reply was to fall asleep. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, which made Luka so weak in the knees that he for a moment feared, he would need to sit down, Ivan laid him back down into his crib. He turned to Luka, forrowed his brow when he noticed Luka's open mouth and his stare, and then put his hands onto Luka's arms, giving them a short slap.

"Naming him after you favorite, huh?" He grinned. "The most beautiful and talented man you have ever met?"

- "It's just a name." Luka tried to laugh it off. "I thought it was nice, but then...yeah. Quite common, right? I didn't want it to be exactly yours, you know, confusion reasons and stuff."

"Sure, yeah." Ivan rested one hand on the crib and crossed his legs, as if he were just about to get started. And he was. "Let's see if he will play more after my style or after yours."

- "He-"

"Ohhh," Ivan made, ignoring Luka, "What do you think, who will he look like more, once he's older? He's got my nose, don't you thi-"

He was interrupted by a ringing phone. "I'm so sorry," he quickly said when Ivano started crying.

Ivan rushed out of the room to answer the call, leaving Luka behind, who picked up Ivano, who calmed down immediately in his dad's arms.

"You hopefully know," Luka said, "that you don't have to play football at all if you don't want to. But if you do and you get to the national team, please do me the favour of not choosing the number seven for you. Ivan would rub that under my nose until the day that I die. Hell, if Ivan would die before me, he would somehow manage to put 'He chose the number seven' on his gravestone." Ivano just yawned at this information. "Anyway," Luka continued. "It also doesn't matter how you'll look when you're growing up, because in my eyes you'll always be the cutest child no matter what, okay? But...if by some kind of witchcraft you manage to get Ivan's smile...that would be good for you. Because it's one of the most beautiful things in the whole world." He kissed his son on the forehead and put him back down. Watching him falling asleep, he just went on. "You know, I lied earlier," he explained. "I totally named you after him. It was the obvious thing to do, right? Name you after the man I love?"

- "You love me?" He heard an all too familiar voice saying behind him. Startled, Luka turned around, rushing towards Ivan.

"Shit," he said, fumbling with his hair. "I shouldn't have..I mean, I'm sorry, you shouldn't have heard that. I never even should have said it."

- "If only I had known," Ivan whispered.

"What are you-"

Ivan shook his head. He couldn't help but tearing up. "I love you so much," he said. "I have loved you since forever. I didn't even get it at first. I tried to tell myself how it wasn't even a crush. That it's normal to love a face as much as I loved yours from the beginning. That it doesn't mean anything."

He licked his lips and shook his head again, not looking at Luka. The words just spilled out. "After realizing that I couldn't hide it from myself anymore, I hoped you would magically become mine. But then you didn't." Ivan now looked at Luka with a pinched face. "And you know what I did? I literally prayed to God he would take the feelings away. But he didn't. And I...I didn't want to be in love, you know? Not with you. Not with somebody I would never be able to get." Ivan wiped over his face once. "I know I'm joking a lot. About flirting, too. But every joke has a litte bit of truth in it, right? I love you," he repeated and the tears started falling again. "So please don't tell me how you shouldn't have said what you said. Please don't. Please-"

Luka just couldn't bear it any longer. Without replying, he grabbed Ivan by his collar, pulled him down and started kissing him. Ivan didn't hesitate for one second but kissed him back at once. Hidden in the kiss were all the secret looks they had thrown at each other. All the moments they had wanted to hold each others hand but didn't. All the missed opportunities. They were all in this kiss, like they wanted, like they needed to make up for them.

Suddenly Luka broke the kiss. Ivan looked confused, almost desperate, as if he feared that it would be over already. That Luka would tell him how it was a mistake.

Instead, Luka said, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much it hurts."

Ivan smiled and laughed a short laugh, but then made sure to close the small distance between them again by taking Luka's face in his hands to continue the kiss. To also say I love you over and over again. But this time without words.  

-------

Thanks for reading! You can find my other Rakidric fics on my blog under the tag melanie wrote.                                   

[randomactuallywrites-57]

Origin

Title: Origin Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 9,961 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day three - Fear/Excitement (Wind) Notes: i love miraculous ladybug. i love superhero AUs. please don't judge me. you shouldn't need to have seen the show to understand this oneshot, but please let me know if anything is unclear! also feel free to come and yell with me about this AU because i love it a lot.

Summary: There is such thing as magic - both the good kind, and the bad.

Also on: AO3

There is such thing as magic.

That’s what Sorey thinks, anyway. Usually his nature tends to be that of a realistic thinker, but he’s always had a soft spot for the supernatural. It doesn’t matter what kind of magic it is; stereotypical witchcraft or spell-casting, or even forces like fate and destiny. Regardless of the type, magic has to exist in some form or another.

Of course, there’s no proof that he’s right. Even if there is, he has no way of finding it for himself, especially not when he’s in a situation like this.

His father’s study feels like a black hole where magic goes to die. The dark, regal colouring and antique flooring might suggest the opposite. But the atmosphere in the room, the hopelessness permeating the air, is what lets him know he’s right.

Georg Heldalf, Sorey’s father, stands before the window, his back facing him and blocking the outside world from view. The light before him creates the effect of his back being shadowed, hidden from view.

“Please, father,” Sorey pleads. “I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll come straight home afterwards-”

“I’ve told you time and time again, Sorey,” Georg says without moving to face him. “You will not be going to school and that is final.”

“Is it too much to ask for a single year of being allowed to learn more about the world?”

His father scoffs. “How insolent. I pay for the best tutors in Pendrago to teach you everything you need to know for a full education, and this is the thanks I get. Everything you need is in this house.”

Sorey clenches his fist, turning his gaze to the only other adult in the room. His father’s assistant, Runette, only watches silently, her lips pressed tightly together.

Maybe magic isn’t real after all. At least, it doesn’t exist in this house.

“I appreciate everything you do for me,” Sorey says in a measured tone, “but there’s more for me to see outside this house. More people for me to meet. A life lived without going outside is barely a life at all.”

Georg heaves a great sigh, pushing a hand through his blond hair in agitation. “I have given you everything I could since your birth. Now your mother is gone, I am going through more trouble to keep you safe and happy.”

“But can’t you see that I’m not happy?”

“Leave.” His father’s tone is final, strong and low. “You will not be going to school. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”

For a moment, Sorey waits, desperate to say something else, to try to convince him. In the end, though, all he can do is hold his tongue and leave, heading back through the large, lonely house towards his room.

Now, more than ever, he wishes magic was real. Maybe then he’d have a chance at a normal life.

Mikleo would love for magic to be real. Maybe it would make life easier.

Of course, there's no chance of that happening. Though he enjoys thinking of impossible things, he always sees them for what they are - impossible. That's why he doesn't get his hopes up that high school will be any better than middle school had been, or that some miracle will suddenly fix everything wrong with his life.

When he gets up on the first day of high school, his excitement is tainted by a sense of dread. There won't be many new people in his class, judging on how previous years have been. He'll be stuck in another year with a group of people he's never fit in with, and who never seemed to like him anyway.

Switching off his alarm, he takes a moment to gaze at his phone’s wallpaper, his lips curling upward at the sight of a picture of him with his best friend.

He wishes, not for the first time, that Sorey might be there to brave this new school year with him.

Again, there’s no chance of that happening. Even without the factor of Sorey’s father being the strictest man he’s ever had the misfortune to meet, he hasn’t seen Sorey for months, now. Not since his mother, Selene disappeared.

Locking his phone, he forces himself out of bed, where he puts on his glasses and begins to get ready for the day. His new school uniform is a little big on him, the white blazer sleeves almost dwarfing his palms, but he’ll grow into it. At least when he brushes his mouse-brown hair into a more sophisticated style, he doesn’t look quite so young.

Once he’s ready, he heads downstairs from his attic bedroom into the kitchen. His mother, Muse, is already there, brewing them both cups of tea to go with the cereal which sits on the island counter.

“Good morning, sweet pea,” Muse says through a yawn.

Muse has the same problem as Mikleo in that she’s always busy and never takes breaks. She wakes up at 5am everyday to make pastries for the coming day in the bakery downstairs. Then she spends all day working there, and she does the admin work at night before bed. Somehow, she fits in time to clean the house and do the chores whilst Mikleo is at school, too. He has no idea how she does it.

“Morning,” he replies, sitting down at one of the island stools. He grabs a clean bowl and pours himself some cereal. “How are you?”

“Ready for another busy day, as usual,” she says, putting a strong cup of tea on the counter beside him. “Are you excited for school? First day of a new year, after all.”

Mikleo hums in an unenthusiastic tone. “It’ll be the same as it is every year, mum.”

“But you’re in high school now,” she points out, sitting down to get her own breakfast. “Maybe something exciting will happen that will make your whole year amazing.”

“That would take a miracle, mum.”

‘Or some form of magic,’ he thinks.

A man stands alone in a dark chamber. The only light source is a window high above him, which looks out onto the city from a great height. Though the chamber is shrouded in darkness, there is no furniture to be seen. The only other inhabitants of the room are silver energy particles which float around the man, hovering near the ground.

The man holds out his hand in front of him, where a brooch lies in his palm. A red gem glimmers in the centre of its golden body, shimmering in the low light.

“What did you say you are?” he asks.

In front of him floats a strange being, one with skin of a purple hue and a blob-like form. The little creature has small pointed ears atop its head, and a tail with a fluffy tip.

"I am a kwami named Symonne," the creature says. "I live within the brooch you're holding, the Lion Miraculous."

"And if I wear this brooch, you will grant me powers?" he asks.

"Yes. I provide the power to send off energy to people, which gives them their own powers for a short period of time, under your jurisdiction. They will be able to do as you command them to."

Though the man’s face is hidden in shadows, his teeth gleam in the light. "And if I capture two certain Miraculouses, I might be granted special powers?"

Symonne nods. "Capturing the Miraculous of the Magpie and the Cat will grant you both the powers of creation and destruction, and any wish you ask for will come true."

A grin spreads across his lips. "Then I shall do exactly that. And what better way to lure two Miraculous-holding superheroes than to create supervillains, do you not agree?"

"Yes, master," Symonne says, her own lips curling as she watches him pin the brooch onto his shirt. "All you have to do is ask."

The man, standing tall in his lair, calls out. "Symonne, transform me!"

Darkness envelopes him, swirling around him as his clothing changes. A moment passes before he stands once more, this time clad in an entirely different outfit, one drenched in hues of purple and black. A mask covers his face, hiding his identity behind the image of a lion. The brooch on his collarbone holds together a long black cloak.

“Let it be known now that I am Calamity,” he says. "I shall cover Pendrago in darkness, in order to fulfil my wish. That is my answer."

Calamity lets out a roar of laughter, and for a moment, the world sees nothing but darkness.

The dark aura, for the most part, is unnoticeable. Only a few creatures sense it when it washes over them, one of whom stirs in a small house on the outskirts of the city.

Kyme freezes in the drawer where he usually sleeps, his body wrought with fear. This sensation filling him is one he has only felt a few times before, at times which preceded eras filled with chaos.

It is dread which makes him fly out of the drawer, heading quickly to his master’s side.

He finds Zenrus in the living room of the house, sitting on a pillow in front of the fireplace. He takes a long drag from his pipe, his expression all too calm considering the situation.

“Master,” he says.

Zenrus turns his attention to the green kwami. “Kyme. Is something wrong?”

“Yes, master. I felt a terrible aura. It can only mean one thing.”

“The Lion Miraculous?” When Kyme doesn’t respond, he breathes out the smoke from his pipe. “So, Calamity will rise once more. It was bound to happen one day.”

“But master, it hasn’t even been two decades-”

“There is no use in pondering the reason,” Zenrus says. He pulls out a necklace from around his neck, clutching it in his free hand. “We must make haste in stopping Calamity.”

Kyme zooms over, stopping Zenrus from uttering any more words. “Master, with all due respect, your body is too weak now to transform.”

“I’m still young,” he says, though they both know otherwise. For a man who has lived for centuries, even if he is strong, he does not have the power alone needed to triumph over evil. “But you are right. We must call on those with power stronger than any other.”

He gets up from his seat, moving over to where a music box sits in the corner of the room. Though it looks innocent enough, he opens a panel on it and types in a code. When it opens, it reveals dozens of pieces of jewellery, all inscribed with ancient symbols.

“You will choose another Magpie and Luzrov?” Kyme asks hesitantly. He isn’t sure he wants to know the answer. Hearing the truth will only tell him how much their city, and perhaps even their world, is at stake.

Zenrus nods gravely. “In times like these, it is only these two who may put an end to the evil threatening our world. I’m afraid it is a necessity.”

For a moment, they both stay silent, contemplating the war which will begin the moment these Miraculouses come into use. It will be a long struggle, if the past instances are anything to go by. They’ll need to use all of their strength, and choose heroes with unwavering hearts.

Kyme turns his attention to his master. “Where should we begin?”

It’s surprisingly easy to sneak out of Sorey’s house.

He’s only done it a few times before, and he’s never gone much farther than the end of the street. That being said, he could have gone farther, if he’d wanted. His only issue is the guilt which crawls into his throat at the thought of being caught.

This time, however, when he climbs out of his window and over the wall surrounding the house, he doesn’t look back. To get what he’s always wanted, he can’t back out now. Otherwise he’ll never get to go to school, have a normal life, make new friends and see his existing ones more often.

And lord knows seeing Mikleo right now would be good enough to make this whole trip worth it.

He runs down the street, heading in the direction of the local high school. Pendrago is a large city, but most of the public services are very central, and with his father’s house being in the city centre, it’s fairly easy to find where he’s going. Not having an escort tailing him makes getting around a lot easier, too.

As he moves into more crowded areas, he forces himself to slow his pace to a fast walk. He can’t have himself sticking out in such a huge crowd, lest someone recognises him from the few pictures online of his father with his family, back when his political power stretched further.

All he’s going to do is enrol for classes. If he does that, surely his father will understand his resolve.

The school building looms in the distance, and he speeds up, ready to run straight in. However, as he approaches it, he sees an old man crossing the street in front of the school. The man walks with a cane and a hunched back, very slowly and uncertainly. The ringing of the school bell punctuates the moment his foot slips, and he falls to the ground, just as a car turns the corner.

When Sorey moves now, it is an instinct more than a thought process. One moment he’s watching from afar, the next he kneels beside the man on the road. He picks up the man’s cane before turning to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, offering an arm. “Can you stand?”

The car approaching grinds to a halt as the old man takes Sorey’s arm, using it to levy himself off the ground and onto his feet once more. They move onto the pavement and Sorey passes him his cane with a warm smile, which the old man returns gratefully.

Before either Sorey or the man can say anything, though, the halted car’s door slams, and a familiar voice assaults his ears.

“Sorey!” His father’s assistant Runette stands by the car, her eyes wide with anger, chest heaving. “You must come home at once!”

Feeling his heart crush in his chest, Sorey turns to face her. He doesn’t notice as the old man walks away, barely using his cane at all to move. “Please, you don’t understand. I’ve wanted this for so long-”

“Your father has told you time and again. Neither he or I will make any exceptions.”

The sound of a crowd grows, and Sorey knows if he doesn’t want to cause a scene whilst the students are going for lunch, he should stand down. But he can’t bring himself to give up. This is his last chance at convincing his father - or at least his assistant - that he ought to be allowed to attend public school.

“I understand that my father is worried for me,” Sorey says, “but I don’t see any issue with this. School is meant to be a safe place. Why would I get hurt here?”

“You will not be attending, and that is final.”

“Please-”

“Sorey?”

This voice feels like a blessing and a curse when he hears it.

Sorey whips around, his heart racing as he sees the familiar figure of Mikleo standing a few feet away. He’s wearing the school’s uniform, complete with the iconic white blazer Sorey has seen people wearing when he passes the school in the car. The formal dress is a little surprising, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit Mikleo. The only thing which doesn’t seem to belong on his face is the confusion and concern forming in his violet eyes.

“Mikleo,” Sorey says weakly.

“What are you doing here?” Mikleo asks, looking between Sorey and Runette. “Is something wrong?”

When Sorey opens his mouth to answer, he feels Runette’s ice-cold glare in the back of his head more than he hears her speak his name in a warning tone.

He holds up a finger to represent “one second” before rushing over to Mikleo.

“There isn’t time to explain everything right now,” Sorey says. “Can I call you later?”

Though Mikleo looks like he wants to ask more questions, he settles for a nod. “Alright. Just don’t scare me like that in the future, okay?”

“Thanks, Mikleo.”

Sorey heads back toward Runette, hesitating when he sees the escort car waiting for him, ready to return him to a life he will never escape from.

There’s no point in resisting, though. All he can do is obey the wishes of his father. He’s powerless to do anything else.

Zenrus turns the corner, heading into an alleyway behind the school. It’s shaded enough that onlookers shouldn’t see more than a silhouette if they happen to glance over as they pass by. Reaching into his pocket, he removes an ornate jewellery box in the shape of a hexagon, marked with symbols only he and a few others understand.

“Take this to that boy’s house,” he tells Kyme, who comes out from his hiding spot in Zenrus’ other pocket.

“Are you certain? This boy is definitely the right one for the Magpie Miraculous?”

Part of Zenrus wishes Kyme wouldn’t be so cautious, but then again, he is the same way. “I only ever chose wrongly once, years ago. I will not allow that to happen again.”

With that as his answer, Kyme gives in, taking the box from his master. He is dwarfed by its size, but he manages to carry it with him as he flies off into the sky on his mission.

Watching after him, Zenrus grasps his cane. There is nothing left to do now but search for the other hero their city needs, and then hope he’s made the right decision.

As the black car drives away, Mikleo wonders if this day can get any weirder.

Not only has he just been faced with the sight of his best friend for the first time in months, having an argument in front of his school. He’s also been in classes where he doesn’t recognise a single person, and watched his History teacher lose his composure over the rudeness of a few careless students.

To be fair, Mikleo can understand why his teacher was upset. Professor Uno seems like an intelligent and patient man. For a class to give such a rude first impression, interrupting constantly and bickering without any care for their teacher’s warnings, it doesn’t give him hope for the rest of the school year. If the other students would just be more considerate, maybe things would be better.

A crash interrupts his thoughts, followed by a shriek of fear. He whips back to face the school, heart stopping as he sees what stands at the door.

Rather than a person, it’s more of a half-human, half-snake creature. The blue tail suggests it’s more snakelike, along with the scales crawling up the man’s exposed neck and face. His hair falls around his shoulders in a mess, his eyes now slits, glowing with rage. Strangest of all, he wears a snake around his neck.

“Students,” the man calls out, “My name is Uroboros. It is time you were taught a lesson in manners!”

When Mikleo said he wanted people to be more considerate, this isn’t how he expected them to be taught about it.

He backs away behind one of the pillars supporting the school building, watching from behind it as the snake man moves towards the fleeing students, swiping at them with long claws. It’s a sight unlike anything he’s seen before, unlike anything he’s ever wanted to see, and for a horrifying moment, he wonders if this is the proof he desired that magic exists.

If it is, he kind of wishes he never found out.

Uroboros swipes at a pillar, causing the roof to cave in, stone dust and debris falling from above. Mikleo has to run to get out of the way, holding one arm over his head and the other over his mouth, the fabric of his blazer hot against his lips from his breaths. As he reaches the corner of the building, he notices an old man standing nearby, a look of horror in his eyes as his cane lies abandoned a few feet away.

“You need to get out of here!” Mikleo yells, getting the man’s attention. He runs toward him, picking up the cane and handing it to him. “I’ll help you to safety.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, Mikleo grabs the man’s arm and drags him around the corner, running with him down the alleyway toward the next street down. It’s a useful shortcut to know, one which leads to a main street with plenty shops lining the streets. He drags the man into one at random. The door opens with a crash, and the woman behind the counter startles as he rushes in.

“There’s something attacking near the school,” Mikleo explains, letting go of the man’s arm. “Please look after this man. Lock all the doors and alert the others on this street.”

The woman nods, too scared and shocked to say a word, and Mikleo runs out of the shop again. If someone is terrorising the school, he can’t bring himself to sit back and do nothing.

In the shop, Zenrus gives a reassuring smile to the cashier before heading to the door. “The young boy is right. Please stay inside.”

The woman says, “Where are you going?”

“I have far more important things to be doing than hiding,” he answers cryptically.

As he leaves the shop and rushes down the street as fast as his legs will take him - which, to be fair, is a lot slower than it used to be - he can’t help the heavy feeling in his heart.

“I suppose the white cat runs in your blood,” he says to himself as he runs toward a certain bakery, where a pair of violet eyes reside, matching those of the boy he has chosen.

It’s only once Sorey gets back to his bedroom and turns on his TV that he hears about what’s happening.

He sits down on his sofa, reclining and ready to find another documentary he’s already watched a thousand times, only to find himself bombarded with news announcements.

“A man with the tail of a snake has been spotted roaming near the Pendrago High School,” the news reporter says. The footage switches to an aerial shot of the school, where it shows an unbelievable creature who truly has the body of a snake. “The creature is incredibly violent. We urge citizens to stay at home if possible, and not to engage the beast at all costs.”

“This is crazy,” Sorey murmurs, watching in horror as the snake creature swipes at a passing student. “Is this real?”

It occurs to him, that Mikleo had been near the school only minutes ago. He hopes with all his heart that he managed to get away.

His head drops as he wonders how this will end up. Will someone be able to stop the beast? Or will it continue terrorising innocent people? This is the kind of thing which only happens in comic books, but as far as he knows, there aren’t any superheros in Pendrago.

Catching sight of something in the corner of his eye, he looks up. In the centre of his coffee table sits an antique jewellery box.

It’s like nothing he’s seen before. Though the markings have come up in textbooks and online articles he’s read about ancient relics, he can’t figure out its origin era, or what it’s supposed to mean. Most confusing of all, of course, is how it ended up in his room. He’s never seen it before, and neither his father nor his assistants are the types to give gifts at random.

Well, he has nothing to lose. He opens the jewellery box.

Suddenly, a burst of white light surrounds him, and he squints his eyes as something materialises before him. It takes a moment for the light to disappear before he sees an unfamiliar creature floating in the air above the box. It looks a little like a bird, though it’s an unnatural shade of green, and it has a little antenna thing sticking out from its head. It also grins at him, which Sorey is unsure birds are usually able to do.

His expression changes to a disappointed frown a moment later. “Awww, I’d been hoping for a pretty lady this time.”

Sorey blinks, unsure how much more surprised he can get. He isn’t sure whether to ask what it is or why it can talk or what. In the end, what comes out of his mouth is, “Sorry?”

The thing, whatever he is, crosses his arms behind his head, letting his expression become easygoing once more. “Welp, can’t be helped. Hey kid, the name’s Zaveid. Looks like I’ll be your kwami from here on out.”

“What?” Sorey asks, getting even more confused at this new terminology. “What does that mean? Who are you?”

The kwami - Zaveid - rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I just told you, I’m Zaveid, a kwami. Seriously, you got ears, don’t you?” He looks down at the jewellery box, prompting Sorey to do the same. “See those earrings? That’s where I live.”

They’re an ordinary looking pair of silver ear cuffs, each with two black beads attached to them.

“You live in the earrings?” Sorey asks.

“Yup. If you put them on and say “transform me”, I grant you super special powers, and you can purify evil.”

Sorey’s eyes widen, slowly beginning to understand what Zaveid is talking about. “Wait, you can make people have magic?”

Zaveid grins. “Yeah. With my help, you’ll be a superhero. You up for it?”

“Of course! This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of!” Sorey jumps up from the sofa, taking the earrings out of the box. As he puts them on, he continues with his questions, trying to pry more information out of the kwami.

Though Zaveid doesn’t tell him much, he learns this: with these earrings, he will become a hero with the power to create a lucky item to help him defeat villains. These are people who have been tainted by evil creatures known as akumas, which are controlled by - well, he’s not sure, Zaveid changes the subject before he can ask. In any case, as a hero, he’ll have the strength and ability to save those in need, and to purify the akumas, returning the victims to their original states.

“So you mean to say the snake thing attacking the school is an akuma victim?” Sorey asks, looking over to the TV once more.

“Looks like it,” Zaveid says. He doesn’t sound like he’s in much of a hurry as he says, “You should probably be quick. Looks like that guy’s only getting angrier.”

With both earrings on, there’s nothing stopping Sorey from going now. He clenches his hand into a fist, then grins confidently.

“Alright. Zaveid, transform me!”

Zaveid is sucked into his earrings, and light explodes around him. His body is encompassed by a warm aura, and he finds his clothes changing to a black and white bodysuit, fit with a colourful bird’s tail and thigh-high lace up boots. A mask with a pointed, beak-like nose covers his face, and he runs a glove-covered hand through his hair, messing it up a little to make it more windswept. White feathers sprout from his earrings, brushing against his skin.

The moment passes, and he finds himself alone in his room, now in a strange outfit.

Still, Sorey has never felt so powerful before. Now, he feels like he’s capable of anything.

“This is amazing!” he says, looking over himself. “So now what do I do?”

Only silence answers him.

“Zaveid?” he says, looking around himself. The kwami is nowhere to be seen.

“Alright,” he says to himself. “Guess I’ll figure it out as I go along.”

He rushes over to the window and jumps out, ready to take on whatever this creature will throw at him.

Mikleo’s chest heaves with exertion. He’s been running around the school for longer than he can keep track of, now. At least it looks like he’s helped most of the stragglers to safety at this point, but if there are any more here, he’s not sure how much help he’ll be. He’s already out of energy, and no one has shown up to tackle the snake man yet.

All he can do is hope that someone will come to save the day. After all, if snake people exist, then there must also be someone with the power to best them. Well at least, that’s what he hopes.

He makes sure the coast is clear before running out from his hiding spot, trying to find the best way of getting away from the school. It’ll do no good if he gets caught by that snake man now.

The door is in sight. He runs toward it at full speed, hoping the snake is where he left it, nearer the rear of the school than the front entrance. He gets outside, toward the debris where pillars have fallen, and it’s only at the last moment that he hears the sound of crumbling rock.

‘Oh no,’ he thinks.

Before he can even move to protect himself, something comes barrelling into him, pushing him out of the building as the stone pillars fall, blocking the door. He lands on the ground with a thud and a large weight on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

The weight shifts.

“Are you alright?” someone asks.

Mikleo opens his eyes, his heart hammering as he takes in the image of someone new, someone he’s sure he’s never seen before and yet feels some sort of familiarity toward. This guy - he has to be a superhero, no one else would wear that getup and push people out of collapsing buildings with that strength - but there’s something in his green eyes that Mikleo feels like he should recognise.

“I-I’m fine,” he stammers, still shell-shocked. He swallows to regain his composure before speaking again. “Who are you?”

The hero gets up off of him before offering a hand, pulling him back onto his feet with ease. “My name is So- er, Magpie,” he says. “I’m here to help get rid of a snake problem?”

For a moment, Mikleo isn’t sure exactly what to say. He’s never thought about being in this kind of situation before. Everything happening to him has put his head in such a spin, it feels like his whole knowledge of normal conversation has gone right out of his head.

In the end, he looks over in the direction of the school building. “I suspect it’s in there somewhere.”

Magpie nods, his feathered earrings blowing in the wind with the ends of his windswept hair. “Thanks. Let me get you to safety first, though. Can’t have you getting bit, after all.”

He ends his sentence with a cheeky smile. Mikleo can’t help but wonder how he can smile in this dangerous situation.

In the end, he doesn’t get a choice in this matter. Magpie picks him up in a fireman’s lift with ease, using a running start before running and jumping up onto the building opposite the school. He runs along the rooftops, bridging the gaps with jumps Mikleo can’t imagine a normal person making. It’s only a matter of minutes before he drops Mikleo off on the balcony of his family’s bakery, where the trapdoor leads down into Mikleo’s room.

“How did you know this is my house?” Mikleo asks as Magpie sets him down.

The hero gives a loud laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Lucky guess? Anyway, I’d better go. Stay safe!”

With that, Magpie flits off again, leaving Mikleo to watch in a bewilderment.

“Messed that up,” Sorey mutters to himself as he makes his way back toward the school. “I almost completely blew my cover! Of course Mikleo would be the first one I’d bump into…”

Had it been any other situation, Sorey would have told Mikleo everything right away. After all, this is something they could both enthuse over, sharing their amazement at the existence of superpowers and heroes and ancient earrings with magical birds living inside of them. In the end, though, there’s no way he can say anything. Zaveid made as much clear earlier, when he told Sorey about the Miraculous.

“Oh, but you can’t tell anyone,” he said, his face growing serious only then. “Not your mum, not your girlfriend, no one.”

Sorey didn’t know how to tell Zaveid that his mum is dead and that he doesn’t have - or want - a girlfriend. He got the gist, though, and that’s why he knows not to tell Mikleo.

Still, he can’t help but feel a little more comfortable, now that’s over. At least he can rest assured that Mikleo is safe at home. Now he can focus fully on fighting the akuma.

He makes his way back to the school, glad to see that the snake has remained within the courtyard. It fumes with rage, but Sorey tries not to think too much about that. If he stands a chance of beating this thing, he’ll do better if he doesn’t worry about how angry it looks.

The only problem now is that he has no idea how to take this thing down. Sure, he has a weapon, though it’s a magical recorder, which Sorey doesn’t even know how to play, let alone how to use in close combat. The only other thing he knows he can do is summon a lucky item, but there’s no guarantee it will be of any use either.

As he watches the creature tear down another pillar, though, he knows there’s no other option.

Lifting the recorder to his lips, his hands somehow know exactly what to do. He plays a short tune, a ball of light forming at the base of the instrument. Then he throws that light into the sky and cries, “Lucky charm!”

The light grows above him, twisting and forming into an unrecognisable shape before disappearing. At the same time as it disappears, a book falls from the sky into his hand.

“A book?” he says, frowning as he examines the cover. It looks like a school-issued textbook, though he has no idea why this is going to be of any use.

“You!” a voice cries before he can figure it out.

Sorey stows the book in his belt, hoping it won’t slip out, and turns his attention to the akuma. Since it’s noticed him by now, there’s no way he can hide. All he can do is fight.

“Hey, snake face!” Sorey yells to it. “What’s got your tail in a twist?”

“People like you!” Uroboros says, lashing out at the pillar supporting the roof where Sorey stands. He barely manages to escape before it crumbles, running along the roof as the snake follows, pushing every pillar it sees to the ground. “People who have no consideration! Brats like you need to be taught a lesson, and that’s what I will do!”

(Uroboros, in his anger, almost does not hear the voice in his head, reminding him of his duty. When he hears it, though, he hisses, knowing his duty and vowing to obey.)

“Pretty dangerous lesson,” Sorey says, hopping over to a nearby tree. “Does it really need to involve so much destruction?”

“There is no better way,” the snake says. “But your lesson will be different. Before I can punish you, I must have those earrings!”

Sorey sighs. Of course this is how things would turn out. “Isn’t stealing pretty inconsiderate? How ironic.”

He hops out of the tree, moving along lampposts and other trees, using roofs as leverage as Uroboros follows, destroying everything he touches. Sorey can’t help but worry how long all this will take to fix.

Still, as he runs, his head spins with options. He needs to figure out a plan, some way to use this book, or to trap the akuma victim-

That’s it!

He changes his course, setting off in the direction of the school once more. “Bet you can’t catch me!”

Uroboros, as expected, follows in a blind rage, entering the school courtyard through the side, the only area not blocked by pillars. Sorey then runs around the debris, hopping onto the roof supported by the last remaining pillars.

“You will be taught a lesson!” the snake cries out, lashing out at the pillars.

As expected, the pillars crumble. Sorey barely manages to hop away before the roof falls with them, a crash of dust and debris falling to the ground. With all the exits blocked off, Uroboros can only cry out in frustration as Sorey remains out of his reach.

There’s no time to celebrate, though. Before he can even wonder what to do next, his earrings beep at him, reminding him of something else he’d forgotten: time.

Zaveid's voice floats through his mind, a reminder of their earlier conversation. “If you use your power, you’ll only have five minutes until you transform back. We kwamis can’t keep up for longer than that.”

He groans. Even if he has the villain cornered, of course he’s going to run into another complication. And all for the sake of a book he doesn’t know the use of.

Pulling the book out from his belt, he begins to sift through the pages, ignoring how the snake man yells at him from below. He doesn’t hear when the snake man grips the debris, trying to climb up the wall to reach him.

Sorey reaches the last page. Uroboros reaches the edge of the roof.

Someone suddenly plucks the book from Sorey’s hands and throws it at the snake, making him fall down once more.

When Sorey looks up, his heart stops. In front of him stands a boy painted in white, with fluffy cloud-like hair and a white super suit not unlike his own. Two pointed ears pop up from between tufts of hair. His left wrist bears a bracelet of gold, with a small aquamarine jewel embedded within it.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about him are his eyes, hidden behind a white mask, a vibrant violet against his pale palette. The colour extends to the sclera, covering what would usually be white in a pale lilac hue.

Sorey’s first thought is, ‘I’m in love.’

His second is, ‘This guy is like me.’

“Aren’t you reckless,” the stranger says, regarding him with a judging gaze. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Sorey barely manages to snap put of his stupor to give a response. “I- uh- thanks?”

The stranger's lips curl up a little, and he turns away. “Go and rest up, and come back once you’re done. I can hold this thing off for now.”

The beeping in Sorey's ears reminds him that he ought to hurry in doing so. Before he leaves, however, he asks, “Who are you?”

The hero looks over his shoulder at him, his gaze steady as he answers. “Luzrov.”

The name tingles sweetly on Sorey’s lips, and he can’t help but smile when he repeats it. “Luzrov. Thanks, I’ll be back!”

He rushes off, feeling his energy soar at the thought of having someone like Luzrov at his side.

Mikleo isn’t entirely sure how his day has gotten to this point. He’s a little under the impression that he’ll wake up at some point, finding this all to be a dream.

The too-real feeling of fear as he stands near the snake akuma, alone, is enough to tell him that this is actually happening.

Once Magpie dropped him off at home, he rushed back into his room, turning on the computer in his room and waiting impatiently for the live news stream to load. As he tapped his foot, he noticed a jewellery box sitting on his desk where he knew it hadn’t been this morning.

Long story short, that jewellery box is what got him here. Who’d have thought, when he woke up this morning, that he’d be a superhero by afternoon?

Of course, he’d been entirely disbelieving, at first. It had taken a solid ten minutes for his kwami, Lailah, to calm him down, speaking carefully to get him to understand the situation. She went through everything she could with him, though there were certain things she couldn’t answer due to lack of knowing, and other things she wouldn’t answer, for reasons Mikleo did not know.

In any case, he has the gist of it, and now he’s here.

Fighting an akuma.

Alone, apparently.

Well, not entirely alone. Magpie will come back. All Mikleo has to do is wait until he has rested enough. It should be easy to keep the snake man trapped until then.

Except the snake is stronger than he anticipates. By the time Magpie leaves, Uroboros has carved away a chunk of the debris surrounding the courtyard, trying to dig his way out. Mikleo springs into action, running over to that side of the roof and using his staff to whack the snake away from the new exit.

A moment later, the snake swipes out at him, throwing him to the other side.

“Another brat!” he yells. “You will be taught a lesson, all of you! But not before I take your Miraculous!”

“You’re not taking anything of mine,” Mikleo says through gritted teeth, forcing himself back onto his feet. “And you’re not getting away, either! I can’t have you destroying Pendrago just because of your anger.”

“Oh? You think you can stop me?” Uroboros hisses. In a flash, he makes his way toward him, giving him only seconds to jump back onto the roof.

Still, it’s not quite safe yet. Uroboros swipes at the wall supporting the roof, causing that part of the roof to crumble under Mikleo’s feet. It’s all he can do to jump at the last second, scurrying away from the falling chunks, trying to find stable land.

“Hurry up, Magpie,” he mutters, his heart freezing as the snake lashes out at the wall beneath him.

“Grape mille-feuille? Seriously?”

Zaveid nods with a serious expression, though the effect is dampened by how exhausted he looks. His antenna droops from lack of energy. “Yup. Best thing for getting back energy, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure you can’t eat anything else?” Sorey asks, glancing at the kwami where he rests in his bag. “There aren’t many bakeries that sell something so fancy, you know.”

“Come on, there has to be somewhere around here,” Zaveid says. “And you can’t complain about the price. I saw your house. You’re loooooooaded, kid.”

“Just because my family has money doesn’t mean I can magic up fancy sweets at your whim,” Sorey mutters.

Seriously, he never would have guessed kwamis would be such hard work. Sure, he’s worried. He doesn’t want Zaveid to be low on energy for too long, but they’re kind of running on a time limit, here.

Glancing around himself, he sees that most of the stores nearby are closed, shutters down over the doors and windows. That much is to be expected, of course - this is the first time an attack like this has happened. It could destroy anything and anyone. This way things are much safer. It does make it more difficult to find a bakery that is still open, though.

The only one he can think of that might let him in is-

“Oh, that’s it!”

Sorey rushes down the street, turning a corner and heading in a direction he knows all too well.

“What, you found someplace?” Zaveid asks.

“My best friend’s family runs a bakery,” Sorey explains. “They make all kinds of sweets. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make your fancy grape things, too!”

It only takes a minute to reach the bakery, which thankfully doesn’t have its doors locked. He rushes in, the bell chiming above his head as he does. Muse looks up from the counter when he enters, her eyes widening.

“Sorey?” she says. “What are you doing here? Are you looking for Mikleo?”

“Not this time,” he says. “Do you by any chance make grape mille-feuille?”

“Yes, we do,” Muse says, her eyebrows drawn inward.

Catching a glimpse of his bag, Sorey sees Zaveid flash a quick thumbs-up, and he nods at Muse. “That’s perfect. Could I get one, please?”

As Muse bags up the treat, she says, “Isn’t this a strange time to be looking for sweets?”

“I guess,” he says. “Oh, speaking of Mikleo, though, did he make it home safe?”

Her hand freezes on the tongs, and she lays them down. “I haven’t seen him. I thought I heard the roof trapdoor open, but he wasn’t there when I went up to check on him.”

Fear strikes Sorey’s heart. If Mikleo isn’t here, then where could he be? This is exactly where he left him, after all. And how could he have left the house again without Muse noticing? And why would he?

All this worrying is making his head hurt.

He quickly pays for the mille-feuille, thanking Muse, before rushing out of the bakery again, this time with a new sense of urgency. He needs to get back and help Luzrov, before it finds Mikleo, or anyone else it could hurt.

At Pendrago castle, Uroboros pulls down a tree without mercy. Mikleo hops out of its branches, leaping between lampposts and praying he won’t catch up. There aren’t many civilians around, at the very least. Most of them seem to have left when the news alerts were broadcasted, though a couple of stragglers scream their way away from the akuma as it approaches. It’s lucky Mikleo is as fast on his feet as he is now, or else he’d have no chance of distracting Uroboros long enough to give them time to escape.

Speaking of luck, he thinks his is starting to wear thin. He's running out of lampposts, and the only other thing nearby that he could possibly use as leverage would be the castle itself. The possibility of this creature damaging such an important historical building makes him feel sick to his stomach, but he supposes he'd rather have that over someone dying because he lured the villain too close to other people.

He braces himself before leaping onto the castle ramparts, running along the walls to reach the main building. Uroboros follows behind, though he can only tell by the sound of its tail slithering over the ground and his angry complaining. He doesn’t dare look back at it, too afraid of what he might see.

Once reaches the main courtyard of the castle, he leads Uroboros in the front, taking him as far into the castle as he can from above. Only once they reach the innermost chamber before the main building does he pause, turning back.

In contrast to the destruction outside of it, the castle itself is entirely undamaged. Not a single brick lays out of place, not a dent within them. Uroboros doesn’t even try to strike out at the walls around him, where Mikleo has him almost cornered.

“It’s not attacking,” he murmurs in amazement. “But why?”

“Maybe because he’s a history teacher.”

Mikleo jumps in surprise at the sudden reappearance of Magpie, who stands a few feet away, holding the forgotten textbook.

“How do you figure?” he asks once he gets over the sudden shock, ignoring the mischievous grin which spreads across Magpie’s lips at his reaction.

“This is a history textbook,” Magpie says, flipping it open to a chapter entitled The Era of Asgard. “I looked through it earlier. It's really fascinating stuff, and that has to be the reason why he won’t damage the castle.”

“What, because he cares about history? I suppose it makes sense, but then you have to wonder how he became akumatised in the first place.”

Magpie shrugs. “I think he was angry at his students.”

Looking back at Uroboros, Mikleo squints, trying to see through blue scales to the face underneath. Something clicks for him a moment later.

“It can’t be – Professor Uno?!”

The snake yells in anger. “I am Uno no longer! My name is Uroboros, and I will punish all those who do not listen!”

“You know this guy?” Magpie asks.

“He’s an acquaintance,” Mikleo answers. “But that answers one question. Now all we have to do is purify him, right?”

“Yeah!”

A long moment of silence passes between the two of them. Then, hesitantly, Magpie says, “How do we do that?”

In that moment, the amount that Mikleo was impressed by Magpie goes down exponentially.

“Didn’t you talk to your kwami before transforming?” he says.

“O-of course I did!” he sputters. “He wasn’t exactly specific about methodology, though. All I know is that we need to find the thing that was infected by the akuma and destroy it.”

“So like a trinket of some kind?”

“Yeah. Glasses, a bag, anything that’s part of his personal effects that was there before he turned.”

Mikleo turns to look at Uroboros once more. He looks so different from when he was human that Mikleo can’t really tell what’s new and what he had on him already. All he notices that looks suspicious is the snake around his neck which looks almost like the blue tie he’d worn earlier in class.

“Do you think it might be his tie?” Mikleo asks.

Magpie hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Might be. It’d be worth a shot, right?”

“Well sure, but we still have to get close enough to break it.”

“Time for some close combat, I guess,” Magpie says, moving to the edge of the roof. “You up for it?”

“It’s not like there’s any other choice.” Mikleo moves to stand at Magpie’s side, looking out over the castle where the akuma lies. “If you distract it, I might be able to destroy the tie using my power.”

“You can destroy things?” Magpie asks, wide-eyed. “That’s so cool!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes at the praise. “You can create things from thin air. I’m just doing my part, too.”

They both turn back to face the akuma victim, and on the count of three, they drop down, ready to fight.

“I’ll distract it,” Magpie says before calling out to Uroboros. “Hey, snake-face! Over here!”

When the distraction works, Mikleo takes his chance. He rushes around the side of the snake, watching out for its tail as he swipes it at Magpie. He pulls out his staff and extends it, quickly thinking through the logistics of how this thing might work in their favour.

“Gotta try harder than that!” Magpie yells at Uroboros, flitting out of his reach again. He glances over in Mikleo’s direction, waiting for a signal.

Mikleo gulps. This is all on him - if their plan fails, it’ll be his fault.

All he can do is try.

He raises a hand in a claw and summons his power. “Cataclysm!”

A tingling sensation fills his hand, a buzz of darkness swarming around the white glove of his suit. He holds it out of the way as he uses his other hand to hold the staff, extending it beneath him to push himself into the air. As he jumps over Uroboros, he reaches his other hand down, his fingers grazing the edge of the tie.

It’s enough to do the job. The snake-shaped tie hisses as it crumples into dust. A purple blob of energy comes out of it, floating slowly upward. Before either of them can do anything, it suddenly grows larger, collecting in a giant mass above them, forming into the shape of a lion’s head.

“Listen well,” it says in a low, deep rumble. “I am Calamity. I cannot be stopped or quelled, and I will without doubt take those Miraculous of yours. I will cause chaos in this city. Weaklings like you will not stop me. You might as well hand them over right now.”

Mikleo glares at the lion’s head, ready to answer, but Magpie steps out before he can say anything.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Magpie says. He stands tall and confident, even against the threat of a supervillain. “You can try as much as you like to cause destruction, but Luzrov and I will always be here to stop you. There’s no way you’ll be having our Miraculous. So just wait, Calamity. You’ll be the one giving yours up, and then this city will be brought to peace again.”

When Magpie looks over his shoulder at Mikleo, he steps forward, joining him at his side.

“That’s right,” he says.

“Fools,” Calamity says. “You will pay the price for your idiocy.”

Magpie smirks, then using his weapon, he jumps up and cuts through the ball of malevolence, purifying it with a single strike. The akuma is the only remnant, which he quickly purifies with a short melody. Then he tosses his lucky charm book into the air. A flame-like substance spreads from it, reaching endlessly over the sky for a moment, fixing everything that was broken by the fight.

The moment ends, and the city is brought to peace once more.

“Okay, that was pretty incredible,” Mikleo says, turning to his new partner in fighting crime. He holds up a fist. “Nice job.”

Magpie grins before bumping their wrists together. “Nice job, Luzrov. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

At that moment, Mikleo’s bracelet decides to beep at him, warning him of his time limit. “Well, I’d better go. See you soon, Magpie.”

With that, Mikleo uses his staff to move to higher ground, ready to get back home and finally rest.

(He doesn’t notice how Magpie watches as he goes, eyes filled with a fondness which seems far too great for people who have only just met. And yet, the warmth in his heart indicates that this bond will only become stronger, and he can’t wait to see his new partner again.)

It’s only natural that Mikleo is exhausted, the next morning.

When he got home last night, he barely said a greeting to his mother before collapsing into bed, passing out quickly from all the excitement of the previous hours. He wakes up not long before his alarm, starving and still aching from the fight yesterday. The sound of raindrops on his window soothes him a little, but not enough to make him feel any better physically.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a small voice says.

He turns his head to see Lailah on his pillow, smiling at him. She doesn’t look at all tired, and he supposes she must have gotten herself something to eat whilst he slept.

“Morning, Lailah,” he says. “So it wasn’t a dream, huh?”

Lailah gives a little laugh. Her tail flicks on the pillow. “No, it was real. You both did a wonderful job, yesterday.”

“Will that happen often?” he asks, uncertain. Even if he has this power now, knowing that the city will be in danger is concerning.

“Yes,” Lailah says, her ears drooping. “I’m afraid Calamity will not stop until the city is covered in chaos. Only you and Magpie have the power to stop him.”

He lets out a deep breath through his nose. When he signed up to this yesterday, he had no idea how serious this would become. And yet, he can’t bring himself to regret his decision, when he thinks about the number of people he saved yesterday.

Sitting up, he says, “I suppose I’d better do my best from here on out, then. I’ll be counting on you, Lailah.”

Floating up to his side, Lailah’s eyes are filled with hope. “I have every faith that you’ll make a wonderful Luzrov, Mikleo.”

He gets ready for school as usual, feeling a tad less reluctant than yesterday. When he heads downstairs for breakfast, his mother greets him with her usual smile. Somehow, today she looks more tired than yesterday. She stays quiet as he comes in, watching him as he pours his cereal for himself. He’s glad his bracelet is covered by his blazer, since he can only imagine the questions he’d get for having it.

Eventually, his mother speaks.

“Where were you yesterday?” she says. “During that attack, we were so worried for you. We heard you come in, but you weren’t there when we checked.”

Mikleo tries not to let his thoughts show on his face when he thinks, ‘Oh crap.’

“I forgot something at school,” Mikleo lies. “It was my phone. I couldn’t leave it there.”

Muse’s expression only becomes more distraught at his answer. “I thought you had more common sense than that. Wasn’t that monster at the school?”

“It wasn’t there when I got back,” Mikleo says. “I won’t do it again though, I promise.”

For a moment, she keeps up the pretence of being angry with him. She can’t hold it forever, though, and she ends up moving over to hug him tightly.

“You’d better not,” she says.

Mikleo hopes he’ll be able to hide it better in the future, or else this superhero business will be a lot tougher than he thought it would be.

Once he finishes breakfast and gathers his stuff, he says goodbye to his mum and heads out of the bakery house. The rain falls lightly on his head, cool and refreshing. He doesn’t have an umbrella, but that hasn’t stopped him from walking in the rain before. He might be soaked by the time he reaches school, of course, but he tries not to think about that.

Stepping away from the bakery door, he moves out onto the pavement-

Only to find that the rain suddenly stops.

Well, it doesn’t stop completely. He can see it falling in front of him, and can hear it pattering on the umbrella over his head. Sure enough, there’s now a stretch of clear plastic above his head, an umbrella held out by none other than-

“Sorey?!”

Sorey stands behind him, holding out the umbrella as the rain dampens his hair, running down his silver earcuffs and onto the shoulders of a brown cardigan, emblazoned with a familiar coat of arms.

“Morning, Mikleo,” Sorey says. His smile and the fondness in his eyes are warm enough to make Mikleo shiver.

Mikleo finds for a long moment that he can’t speak, his throat constricted by some unknown force. When he finally finds words, he says, “What are you wearing?”

In a teasing tone, Sorey says, “What does it look like I’m wearing?”

“Did you actually convince your dad?” Mikleo asks in disbelief. “How?”

“Turns out sneaking out of the house to go to school is a good way to make strict parents believe you want to go to school,” Sorey says with a shrug. “I dunno, though. When I got home Runette told me he’d said it was okay.”

Mikleo’s heart stutters. Somehow, everything he’d wanted is coming true. Magic is real, life is looking up, and his best friend will be in the same class as him from now on.

He couldn’t be happier.

“We should get going, or we’ll be late,” Mikleo says, pushing the umbrella so it shelters them both. The proximity between them strikes pins and needles into his arm, but he doesn’t shy away.

Instead, he walks at Sorey’s side towards his - their - school.

[kurokonbscenarios]

Headcanons of GoM exchange gifts and their s/o give them a homemade scarf? It's their first time knitting so it's obvious an amateur did it and they feel embarrassed about it. How do GoM react?

Kuroko

He feels very happy because it’s the first time someone gave him something homemade. All smiles and happiness because it’s you who made it.

Always wears it to school, especially when it’s cold.

Doesn’t care if it’s amateur work or not, he’s gonna wear it every time he goes out.

Anyone who asks, he answers “[Name] made this. They’re amazing” and always compliments you.

Takes special care of it, washes it by hands if he has to. Loves it when he forgets it by “accident” and you take it home and wash it and it has your smell on it and he just swoons because it’s perfect.

Glares at anyone, who laughs at it and says if a blind person knitted it. No, you don’t talk that way about something Kuroko cherishes and he’ll go all ghost on them if they take it too far.

When on dates, he’ll wrap the scarf around you as well because yes, he can and will totally do that.

Kise

Such a goof.

Acts confused and startled at first and then pulls you in tight hug and never wants to let go because getting a scarf, knitted by you is something so amazing he’s just ???? !!??!?? like can you get any more perfect??

Such a drama queen when someone talks badly about it, you’d think someone murdered his family.

Takes no crap from anyone, who just sneers at his new perfect and lovely scarf. He’ll defend it to his death and even beyond. You can bet it’ll be one of the things passed onto next generation. Even more of a goof.

Wears it at all times. Throughout winter and summer, doesn’t care if it doesn’t go along with clothes he wears, but he always makes it look good on him, so eventually you get many compliments because “holy hell that’s YOUR work? It’s awesome!”

So proud to see you smile when you see him wear it because it’s so obvious he loves it and would murder anyone who try to stain/harm it.

Midorima

Highkey happy and “no, I’m not blushing” quickly correcting his glasses and looking away because “I never blush” but also thanks you with a gentle smile you rarely see.

Wears it to school throughout winter.

Saves it into closet when it’s the beginning of spring, or summer, depends when it gets warmer and isn’t cold anymore, but get’s it out when it’s getting colder again.

Honestly doesn’t care how it looks on him, if the team teases him about it, he’ll tell them his piece of mind and everything is just so much brighter from then on.

Always makes you feel so giddy and embarrassed whenever you see him wear your scarf, even years after because yes, Midorima is the type to save it for years after and you both laugh at the memories you spent together.

Aomine

Not the type to wear a scarf, but if you made it, he will and he does, sticks to his word. Even Momoi bought him a scarf, but only god knows where it is.

Teases you a lot because “look what a hole there is. I can put my head through it” and this dork does it. He puts head through the hole and almost chokes. You tear up, upset that it isn’t perfect and he feels bad for making you cry and tells you it’s okay and that he’ll wear it and proudly shove it down anyone’s jackass, who dares to badmouth your masterpiece.

And he sticks to his words. And you have to stop him again, because “Aomine no, don’t choke him!” “But he badmouthed your scarf! You want me to punch him instead?” “Aomine no!” “Aomine YES! Aomine hits!”

“Aomine detention!” says homeroom teacher, fuming in anger and Aomine is ever so smug and actually satisfied. Word quickly goes around and many gossips start to travel around, from Aomine being cursed by your scarf to Aomine suffocating the guy while standing beside and you don’t know what’s worse.

But you laugh, ‘cause it’s honestly hilarious and Aomine wears your scarf ever so proudly and even brags to Kuroko and Kagami about.

Murasakibara

Honestly doesn’t care if it’s good or bad. If it’s warm, it’s warm and that’s all that matters to him.

Hates it when he gets crumbs of snacks and food in it because then he has to wait till it’s washed and dried and he hates waiting and not having scarf, but “Atsushi, you have lots of scarfs. Why not wearing any other?” “No [Name]-chin, I don’t like them. They’re itchy” and his honestly will be the death of you, because for some reason, your scarf is soft?? What did you do to it? Witchcraft. Definitely witchcraft.

The only thing he brags about to Himuro tbh like he’s all smiles and excited because it’s something he can wear at all times, which he does and doesn’t care, and the scarf smells so like you and it’s so warm and soft and fluffy and Atsushi doesn’t know what to say anymore, but he loves it. so. much.

Murders anyone with glares if they laugh at his scarf. If he’s from his class, he gets revenge at PE. If he’s at other class and manages to compete in same competition as him, which is totally by “accident”, he’ll crush them. Atsushi remembers.

He wears it even at home and get’s really upset if it ends in his siblings’ rooms, because “no, that scarf was given to ME by [Name]-chin and NO, you don’t have any right to wear it. Now give it back or I’m taking all your snacks for next five years”. He succeeds, which is pretty terrifying.

Such a softie. Loves to wrap you with your scarf and just holds you close at those times.

Akashi

So grateful. He’s smiling THAT smile. You know which one I mean. The one that made you all weak in knees.

Assures you that this is the best present he has ever received, aside from his mother’s gifts. Kisses your hands, thanking you before he looks at scarf and just stares at it like he’s remembering something.

Wears it to school every day.

Though no one dares to say anything, he knows they’re judging it and he honestly doesn’t care. It’s his choice to wear it or not and if he just hears anyone badmouthing it, god help him. Because you don’t just badmouth something you made and get away with it. People learn their lesson and leave it alone.

Saves it into his closet and makes sure it’s washed like it should be and handled with proper care.

Suddenly Hayama also wants the scarf ???

Akashi doesn’t really mind, but he does, but doesn’t want to admit it, though it’s so obvious on his face and you have to stop yourself from laughing cause he looks just so cute, pouting and hoping you don’t agree. And you don’t, saying you don’t have much experience, but apparently Hayama doesn’t mind, he wants it. Akashi still does and Mibuchi sees and points the conversation somewhere else and everything is all nice once again.

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #50

I am still not caught up on all the fics I’ve read that need to be commented on and recced. You might be getting another list in a few days, if I can keep up the momentum I’m currently on.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Keith Doesn’t Have Time for Ghosts by aeruh for Forest_of_bread Words: 5,309 Author’s Summary: The Castle of Lions is haunted again, for real this time. Thankfully, Keith is a witch and knows how to deal with it. Unfortunately, he’s the only one who knows how to deal with it. My Comments: Keith’s approach to witchcraft and exorcism is absolutely hilarious. This was such a fun read from start to finish.

Breaking the Barriers by wingedflower Words: 4,277 Author’s Summary: A sequel to “Break Out, Break Down”. After Lance’s claustrophobia has casued him to collapse mid-training, Shiro decides it’s time for the paladins to have a heart-to-heart talk about their fears and phobias. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic that’s one of my absolute favorites. It’s actually saved in my Favorite Fics folder at work so I can break it out when I’m feeling particularly in need some good Lance h/c. Anyway, this one is more focused on everyone else rather than Lance, but it’s still really lovely to see them all talking things out and supporting each other BEFORE it hits the fan.

BLUR by limeadepeels Words: 1,209 Author’s Summary: “Allura,” Lance says, “I don’t want you to freak out, okay?” “Why would I–” “You have a hole in your tummy,” Lance says like the soft words will minimize the seriousness of the situation. “I have my hands over it and I’m trying to seal it off. I need you to help me by not moving and not freaking out until we have an extraction, all right?” Allura does her part and stays very, very still. My Comments: Hurt Allura and comforting Lance is such a fantastic dynamic. I would love to see more like this from the fandom.

Precipitous by mongoose_bite Words: 1,933 Author’s Summary: Kolivan knows orbital decay when he sees it, and knows if too much force is applied to correct it the object will be flung into space, unrecoverable. Nevertheless, he resolves to try. After the events at Naxzela someone needs to talk to Keith. My Comments: Great fic with Kolivan taking pains to ground Keith after he almost flew off the rails. I’m a big fan of this sort of father-son interaction between these two.

Identity by Revasnaslan Words: 1,034 Author’s Summary: Cubs weren’t supposed to be up in the middle of the night, but Kolivan does his best to be patient with the ones that are. — Written for Keith Birthday Day 2 (Identity) My Comments: Very cute interaction between Kolivan and wee Keith.

Not Just Another Rescue by Eastofthemoon Words: 8,568 Author’s Summary: Keith spends some time with his new human friends at the mall. However, when he finds himself whisked away by Kolivan to return home, last thing Keith expected was for his new friends to come chasing after him. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic in which the other paladins run across BoM Keith in a space mall and decide to befriend. I love the misunderstanding that fuels this one, and seeing Keith comfortable enough to be a brat with Kolivan was really cute and heartwarming.

The Lost Paladin by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 17,991 Author’s Summary: If he doesn’t leave, all of him will be reduced to cinders. But if he leaves, all of him will be undone. A course that he will choose to chart, no matter how it breaks his heart. It’s a battle that cannot be won.- Their names burn inside him, seared onto his soul. Black coal sits in the centre of his chest, fuelling a fire that was soon to be smothered by the very people that set it ablaze. My Comments: This is painful, but very well done. After the war is done and it seems like Voltron is going to disband, Keith leaves the team before they can leave him. Years together he’s found again, but it takes quite a bit of work to reconnect.

Safe Spaces by BluePlanetTrash Words: 1,620 Author’s Summary: Whenever Lance felt sick at home, he would find a small place to curl up until he felt better. Too bad the other paladins didn’t know this when Lance suddenly goes missing. My Comments: Cute little fic with everyone panicking over Lance, aww. He’s fine.

something wicked by ashinan Words: 8,206 (2/4) Author’s Summary: It’s been weeks since Shiro went toe to toe with the white haired demon in that old house. When the next haunted excursion leads the gang to a supernatural Bed and Breakfast, a new player makes itself known. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic. This AU is so good. I love Shiro’s protectiveness, as always, though it’s a bit frustrating and I just want him to TELL the others what’s going on, holy crow. The spooky descriptions and action sequences work really, really well, and it’s just all around delightful to read and immerse myself in this story.

what goes up by eugyne (AreteNike) must come down by eugyne (AreteNike) the law of gravity by eugyne (AreteNike) Words: 2,991, 3,255, 2,713 Author’s Summary: All Mark Kogane has left is his infant son and the empty sky. All Mirana Espinosa has left is her infant son and the memories of other times. All Colleen Holt has left is her teenage daughter and her husband’s collection of extraterrestrial paraphernalia. (This series can be read in any order.) My Comments: I really loved this canon-divergence AU built on the POVs of three parents who lose their partners, their foundations, and their children. The worldbuilding and character interactions were both fantastic and fascinating. Each story is satisfying alone, but reading all three really gives a sense of meat and heft to the world. I would happily read more in this ‘verse.

i used to recognise myself (it’s funny how reflections change) by watervld (helpmechildren) Words: 2,671 Author’s Summary: Everyone expects Lance to be with Hunk, because that’s the way it works; Lance and Hunk, side by side, taking down whatever bad guy stands in their path through excessive screaming and heartfelt reunions. Lance isn’t with him. Everyone starts to worry. My Comments: Lance disappears, and when he’s found again, he has amnesia and it’s years later. Bittersweet, emotional fic, kinda sticks in the brain. There’s a note of hope at the end, but it’s not a fluffy fic, just to warn you.

Two Inch Trust by SilverArson Words: 2,361 Author’s Summary: The Velqi have mastered transporting large amounts of material through small containers. When the paladins attempt to rescue victims of an illegal slave trade, Lance is trapped and they aren’t sure how to get him out. My Comments: A cracky premise treated seriously, which is the best way to do a cracky premise, sometimes. Anyway, Lance gets shrunk and stuck in a jar, and it’s more intense and scary than funny. Great protectiveness from the team.

Tastes Like Coffee by itsthevoid Words: 2,213 Author’s Summary: All Hunk has ever wanted was to live a normal life. Being a technopath who works at the most supernatural café in the word, that is all but impossible. At least Lance is still normal, even if he drinks Pumpkin Spice Lattes a bit too often. Or: AU where everyone is supernatural and works at an even more supernatural café, and neither Lance nor his coffee is what Hunk thinks it is. My Comments: The worldbuilding in this AU is fantastic, and the Hunk and Lance interaction is wonderful. I would happily read something much, much longer in this setting.

make yourself right, never mind them (don’t you know you’re not the only one suffering?) byorange_yarn Words: 3,143 Author’s Summary: Missing scenes for Reunion & Black Site. Matt feels the need to make amends. He’s not the only one.Fill for the “atonement” prompt on my hurt/comfort bingo card. My Comments: I wish we got something like this in canon, but fanfiction is great for filling in these emotional gaps.

sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 1,746 Author’s Summary: Keith pulls his own strings, but his trembling hands can hold nothing right now. The final pieces of his composure slip, evade his reach. He trips, on the verge of his own unravelling. My Comments: Kolivan is a good dad. 4.01 missing scene.

Serenity by this_book_has_been_loved Words: 1,238 Author’s Summary: Lance has trouble sleeping, and decides to take a walk My Comments: I always love Pidge and Lance supporting each other.

Nightmares by luoup (ravenic) Words: 1,599 Author’s Summary: Day 1 Prompt 2: Nightmares Nightmare coping techniques My Comments: Cute and midlly bittersweet fic with the entire team coping together.

Icarus et Dea Tacita by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee Words: 7,356 Author’s Summary: She’s drenched in blood; she’s literally cut open, how-? Keith doesn’t know, and the closer he is to her the more certain he becomes that he’s seen her before, that this is one of Lotor’s generals, but he knows he’s going to try to save her. No soldier or civilian left behind. Shiro’s taught him so much, but he learned that one from Pidge and Lance and Hunk.While on a mission for the Blade, Keith finds a dying Narti and saves her life. Friendship ensues. My Comments: What a fantastic premise. Keith and Narti form such an interesting and natural friendship, two people who don’t quite feel like they belong anywhere. It was a pleasure to watch them slowly figuring out how to relate to each other. The worldbuilding is great, too. I would be pleased if canon was something like this.

Of Tremors, of Quake, of Rushing Landslides, of Broken Vale by twilighteve Words: 12,268 Author’s Summary: Lance’s eyes widened. “Oh man. You’re like our own Toph from Avatar.” Hunk blinked, because that was actually a pretty accurate description of what he was feeling. “I’m like Toph,” he echoed, a smile on his face. Hunk discovers his powers and beats a bunch of giant alien insects with the team. Also, he cusses alien badgers a storm. My Comments: Part of a series in which the paladins discover they have elemental powers. I love to see Hunk coming into his own in this. The worldbuilding is great and the action and adventure aspects are super fun, and protective Hunk is fantastic. Just a really, really fun read.

Number One Fan by Araloth Words: 4,255 Author’s Summary: Lance discovers a forum for fans of Voltron after one of their shows and can’t help diving into it. My Comments: Absolutely adorable. I loved how the mystery was solved in the end. Protective teammates are the best.

The Drifter by Bandity Words: 15,959 Author’s Summary: The team needs to figure out what’s wrong with Lance, before it’s too late. My Comments: Very cool fic with a great premise and fantastic execution. There are several scenes that were really memorable, and the worldbuilding is interesting and feels like a real place, if a bit spooky. Love Shiro and Hunk taking such a good care of Lance, as always. A great fic for Halloween. Going into my favorites, of course.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

As Color Fades Away (205120 words) Why it sucks to be a snake in space(47136 words) The Sea In Between (74253 words) Young Blood (7636 words) Road Trip to End Times (20349 words) Shadows of Stars (52425 words) Fusion Confusion (21601 words)

[intentionsandwitchystuff]

Tarot journal. I’m a bit amazed by myself that I am still doing this. I am usually not very persistent with daily routine stuff but I’m still at it so maybe it’s because I really have fun doing this.

Today’s card is Strength, but reversed. I found only a picture of the upright card, and this lets me see it better anyway:

First of all, a reversed card means sort of the opposite of the upright card. In this case, Strength reversed indicates self doubt, weakness and insecurity. Now those are qualities that are so well known to me, I can't even begin to explain their significance on my whole life.

But let's look at the card because it has a very strong influence on me. When I saw this card (even though it was reversed) I immediately felt very strongly towards it. Like it resonated with me at once. I'm not sure exactly why and in what way it spoke to me but I feel very connected to it.

The lion on it: My sun sign is Leo so there is already a direct connection. The lion, of course, is a symbol for strength. But it also means something very personal to me. I was in therapy for quite a long time (like 3 years or so) until a year and a half ago. The therapist helped me immensely in terms of finding coping strategies, connecting with my inner child and self and understanding myself better, being more patient with myself. Not always, of course, I still struggle, but I'm so much better. Anyways, we talked about the concept of having some sort of "benevolent companion" as she called it. Something to carry with you that embodies a friendly voice so whenever you doubt yourself, you can take on the perspective of your companion and image what it would tell you instead. For example, when you catch yourself thinking "I can't talk to these people, I don't know them and they will think I'm stupid", you can rather think "what would my companion say" and it would be something like "If you go over there and talk to these people, they will think you are very friendly and enjoy talking to you." 

So, I understood the concept and saw what my therapist meant, but I was unsure about what my "benevolent companion" would be. Like, at that time, it just felt stupid to have a stone or something to carry around with you. (Which is ironic on its own account, because ever since I started getting into witchcraft I found many examples on how carryinga crystal or even a meaningful stone with you can give your strength and protection. But that's not even the point. I just can't seem to do this journaling thing in fewer words!)

One day my therapist gave me a post card. She said, "I don't know if you find this helpful, if not that's fine, but I thought if you like it, maybe this could be your benevolent companion." A post card, I thought, is much more practical to carry around than a stone or something. I can use it as a bookmark or just have it in my bag. And the post card itself was just amazing. In the background there is the bluest sky with a few fluffy clouds, and there is a huge lion on a rock. Wind blows through his majestic mane. He looks right into the wind, determined and calm. I'm not sure if I can find a good translation because it's in German but quite literally it says in the upper corner "Opposing wind makes you strong".

This post card has been in my bag for a long, long time. I don't carry around with me any more but still use it as a bookmark and whenever I look at it, it gives me so much peace and strength. I think that's why I felt this card's energy so strongly and it spoke to me right away. Also it's so amazing and interesting how I have found different approaches to the cards in these few days of journaling already. 

Looking at the woman behind the lion, this emphases its relationship with me. I can see myself reflected in that woman, standing close to the lion without fear but in companionship. She seems to pet him and he doesn't mind. They are friends. I can also see my therapist in her. She is pointing at the lion, offering him as a solution to me, the viewer in this scene. In any case, the woman is deeply connected to the lion by the hair color she shares with him. 

And again, they both are connected by the surrounding trees and the Earth. The woman's arm is somewhat in line with the lines of the hills, you can't really tell where her arm ends and the Earth begins. They are truly connected. This card to me is about being connected with your inner strength and about how strength doesn't have to be brute force, but soft and natural. The woman doesn't just use or harness the lion's strength, she doesn't have him on a leash. They are simply connected, they are friends and work together. This is what makes them strong.

Since this card was reversed for me, it might be telling me to re-connect with my lion. Maybe it simply says, "Hey you haven't looked at your benevolent companion in forever, why don't you reconnect." Maybe it says, "You are so used to doubting yourself, to feeling insecure about yourself and your worth. But you know, this doesn't have to be "normal". Actually it is reversed! Remember that. You also have strength and confidence inside you."

[bunnikook]

✧・ﾟyoonkook fic recs (pt. 2)・ﾟ✧

Hello, it’s me again! I have brought you more sugakookie recs. Again the *** show my personal favorites. Also if you love bangtan or sugakookie, how about following me on twitter, i use it 1000x more than tumblr

The Sound Of Winter

Yoongi has a lot on his plate, but when his pack discovers a small pup in their territory, he finds that he's about to have a lot more.

Capturing Passion***

Min Yoongi was a simple guy living the simple lifestyle in university with his relatively normal friends. However, his simple lifestyle wasn't enough to pull him out of his artistic slump, which was dragging him down a dark and lonely path.

Of course, this is all until one drunken evening and he comes across a beaten kid, and decides to take him in for the evening.

In his drunken state he didn’t notice the pair of tall, soft black ears that came from the top of the kid’s head, and he certainly wasn’t sure what to do when he woke up next to them the next morning.

the nights really were for saying things you can’t say tomorrow***

"you know, the fact that my rap puts you to sleep should be insulting," yoongi says wryly.

all your curves, and all your edges

Tumplr prompt:

In which Yoongi is a traveller who collects memories of people. Up until he meets a boy who makes him realise that this time he wants much more than a simple journal entry.

future tense**

Jeongguk was born with wings of blood and bone, broken beyond repair. It was Yoongi who had stitched feathers to the seams, promising that they would fly away from here, as far as they could possibly go.

I got a feeling (got a feeling, got a feeling) about you**

Min Yoongi is not sure about a lot of things, but if there’s one thing he can be sure about, it’s definitely: he wants to spend the rest of his fucking life with a certain Jeon Jeongguk.

Cerulean and Malachite***

tumblr prompt from anon: "You said you take requests on here on your ao3 and I'm here with a request! How about a SugaKookie soulmates. After that, you can do whatever you want with it, but if you could add some smut, that would be nice. :) Thank you!"

bless you, precious sugakookie anon.

Ever since Jungkook could listen, he’d been watching. Watching the streets, the crowds, watching the people pour on and off the trains. Jungkook had watched for the flash of color that was said to indicate the instant when one found their Soulmate. Under normal circumstances, in everyday life, an aura would be invisible to the eye; but when two Soulmates found each other, it was said that they would see the color of each others’ auras. Jungkook spent his entire life with his eyes wide open, searching around him, waiting; watching and waiting. Jungkook became impressively good at observation.

the collection

a collection of all my tumblr shorts and prompts!;

(my notes: all of these are amazing but #22 is ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL)

Distance makes the heart grow fonder (said by someone stronger than me)*

"He had no clue how long he stood there, waiting for a single foot to step out the gate. All he was aware of was people moving around him and his legs turning to jelly underneath him. His heart pounded and his knuckles turned white from the strain of his grip on the roses. Yoongi had never been this nervous in his life. The pain of being far from his love was hard before, but now it was unbearable. His boyfriend was on that plane, getting off of it right now, and those minutes of waiting were absolute pain. He had half a mind to rush onto the plane and kidnap the boy right then and there, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t go over well.

When the first person stepped out of the gate, he found it harder to breathe. The people began pouring out of the gate, painstakingly slow, families pushing past Yoongi and talking animatedly to each other, somehow not hearing the thunderous beating of his heart. It was torture, standing there waiting for a sight of the boy he’d been thinking about for months. It wasn’t until the stream of passengers died down that Yoongi caught a glimpse of fluffy brunette hair and doe eyes, and suddenly, Yoongi couldn’t breathe."

 off the record

“Hyung, I think you might actually be fucked.”

There’s a phone being held offensively close to Yoongi’s face, opened on an article with a bolded title: ‘POP IDOL JUNGKOOK ENLISTS THE HELP OF UNDERGROUND HIP HOP PRODUCER MIN SUGA FOR UPCOMING ALBUM’. There are a multitude of pictures beneath it, one of him and Hoseok from two or three years ago at university, and an equally unflattering and familiar one from outside of his own studio.

(be)a(witch)

five moments between slytherin house sixth year min yoongi and third year transfer student jeon jungkook.

(five long drabbles according to the words spell, potion, spirit, fantasy, and witchcraft.)

You Stir Up A McFlurry In My Heart

Jungkook is completely and utterly screwed the moment he develops a crush on the voice behind the McDonald’s Drive Thru speaker.

what’s in a name?

Yoongi's mind is racing with thoughts of bills and lack of money and want of something better and his heart is in the hands of a (freshly turned) nineteen-year-old who is currently at his parent’s for a rare weekend of family bonding and ignoring his inquiring texts of how it’s going and driving him crazy.

(part 2 of the tattoo au I’ll never fully write)

 kiss me, kiss me

Jungkook normally exudes an aura of maturity, always fighting his youthful image to make sure people treat him with respect. He works out consistently, puts his heart and soul into dancing and never complains about pulling late nights and early mornings. But sometimes he’ll say things like “I want kisses” and it’ll remind Yoongi just how young and innocent Jungkook really is.

 (part 3 of the tattoo au I’ll never fully write)

( ✓ read 10:18 p.m. )*

 By the time Suga got back to him with the name of the sample, Jungkook was sitting in class. He’d never been an in-class text-er. He listened well. He followed rules. He gave professors the attention they deserved. But if Min Suga texted him, Jungkook always found himself texting back, attention 100% on his phone. Maybe it was because messaging the stranger felt as informative as half of his classes. Suga gave good advice. He’d caught himself thinking over the weekend that maybe he actually did owe Jimin some coffee.

 hello, maintenance calling

 it's completely fine to call for maintenance about once every two weeks... right?

 Sweaters

 yoongi has been into sweaters lately, jungkook notices.

 read 04:46 a.m***

 "tall americano to go, please."

 kkt (5 new messages)**

 [jungkookie] [00:08] keep me company?

 semantics ***

 semantics is the study of meaning; it focuses on the relationship between words, phrases, signs, and symbols and what they stand for.

 so far away (don’t fall away)

 “The spare to the heir, Joon-ah,” Yoongi drawled through the buzz of two glasses of whiskey he’s already admitted to having before Namjoon showed up. “That’s what I am. The spare. Married off.”

"Elizabeth II was a spare, you know."

(arranged marriage sugakookie that no one except me asked for HAAHHA)

 if i could (for just one day)

 Yoonkook Week, Day 2: Favorite AU (1/2)

Harry Potter AU (~2k words)

 witches petals

 "is there anything i can help you with?"

(or: yoongi has an affinity for cute witch florists)

 you and me are like peaches and cream

 where jungkook is the new employee at the ice cream shop where yoongi works, and yoongi really, really didn't ask for any of this.

(or, jungkook is pretty and yoongi is weak)

 fools (fall) ; a collection

a collection of drabbles from a canon point of view about falling in love.

seven: wrong/right

wrong is a five letter word. so is right.

(or: yoongi is whipped. jungkook might be, too.)

Watercolor

 tumblr request from peach-blossoms: It’s for Sugakookie (yeah I’m a hardcore shipper now): In which Jungkook is a tattoo artist who barely makes ends meet but still continues his line of work because he loves it (most of the designs are original, unless the customer brings their own), loves the drawing, the technical aspects, the myriad characters that enter his store, their varying reasons for getting a tattoo(s), not always disclosed but some are more prone to talk than others. Yoongi comes in as a customer one day, his reason for getting a tattoo simple but embarrassing (for him)–to give his image an edge, to make people stop underestimating him for his small frame and slightly feminine cat-like looks.

It’s a man, he realizes, his hair a muted shade of mint, like the pebbles that rest at the bottom of the water fountain outside of Taehyung’s dorm. He’s not the tallest, but people seem to give him space, so he’s easy to observe, despite his black on black outfit, a t-shirt tucked into tight denim.

Why Jungkook Won’t Leave Yoongi Alone *

The members of BTS have never been shy about being affectionate with one another. They hold hands, hug, and just generally touch each other a lot. It’s all innocent, really, except that recently Jungkook won’t leave Yoongi alone. Even the other members have started to notice. At any opportunity to embarass his hyung, he takes it. Any opportunity to praise him - mock him - argue with him - honestly, it’s all getting a little tiresome. But this is Yoongi, the non reactionary member of BTS who will not be so easily defeated. Herein lies the problem.

not just (pretending)

Yoongi agrees to a fake relationship with Jeongguk to get Jieun's attention. It doesn't go as planned.

Fucking Date Me

On his birthday, Jungkook messages Yoongi:

i'm eighteen

fucking date me

I.-x.

Yoongi agrees to go on a blind date with That Guy from Jimin's English class. When he develops a crush on him, it's strictly between himself, Jimin's unwilling ears, and apparently Jungkook, when he's pretending to be asleep.

most of all

beauty is beauty in whatever form it happens to take.

scraping the skies with our fingertips

Yoongi gave Jungkook his leather jacket and it all went downhill from there.

Take a Picture, It’ll Last Longer

It’s not that he thinks Jungkook is attractive...he just really wants to have the weekend off.

—In which Yoongi has been friends with Hoseok for years, so he should have known this bet would be stupid.

(part 2. Jungkook is good at a lot of things, but flirting is definitely not one of them. Thank god he’s got Taehyung and Jimin feeding him advice through an earpiece...)

too sober for this

after they finally get a night off, the members are at a lost of what to do with all their free time, and resort to drinking. even that doesn't help, but after some brainstorming and turned-down ideas, they settle on truth or dare. jungkook was expending it to be more fun than it was.

‘til the stars come out

he came in once a week around midday, always sat in the same booth by the window and always ordered the same thing.

let me love you

jungkook lets out a breathy giggle, “what was that for?”

“shhh…” yoongi hushes him, shakes his head. “let me love you.”

Just Missed It

In which everyone seems to know about Jungkook and Yoongi before Jin

when i think of you the sun comes out

Yoongi ends up taking Jungkook back to his apartment– not because he’s feeling generous, but because there are no fucking buses at four o’clock in the morning and the kid doesn’t have any money, doesn’t even have a wallet on him. It becomes evident that he’d been mugged by the guys that decided to use him as an impromptu punching bag.

Cerulean

Yoongi learns that stealing isn't always so bad

It’s February 13th

Jungkook is 14, not stupid. He understands the basics of Valentine's Day, Step 1: Buy a card, Step 2: Confess your feelings. How on earth is he screwing this up so badly? Maybe because his crush is Min Suga, also known as his best friend who's been living with his family since they were kids. Yeah, that can be an issue.

Sweater Weather

"Yoongi being cute in oversized sweater and Jungkook being overly possessive"

bunny boy

Somehow, they both ended up with animals tattooed on their wrists without even realizing it.

(i guess that we did it) on purpose**

in which yoongi and jeongguk work at a pet shelter and are bad at feelings.

Hand Holding and Misconceptions

Grabbing Yoongi’s hand in both of his Jungkook pulled him towards his door. “Come in for a while, hyung?” He swayed back and forth with a soft and eager smile on his lips. He wasn’t up to anything mischievous he just wanted to spend more time with his boyfriend. The blank expression was back but Yoongi shift his gaze and Jungkook couldn’t see it anymore. After a moment of silence, Yoongi took his hand back and put it in the pocket of his leather jacket. “I don’t think-“ His face fell immediately and dropped his arms by his side. “What did I do?” This got Yoongi’s attention and he looked up at Jungkook and shook his head. “Nothing.”

Letting out a scoff, Jungkook’s eyes hardened as he stared at the one person who wasn’t supposed to lie to him no matter what. “Don’t lie to me. I saw your expression when you stopped by the studio, the same one you gave me just a minute ago. I’m not dumb, something is wrong.” Before he could stop himself he reached out a hand to Yoongi but the elder flinched just enough for Jungkook to notice. That was more than the last straw. He didn’t know previously how to approach his boyfriend about the issues he’s been having but now he was forced to.

This.

This hurt.

the little things

the little beauty spot beneath jungkook's bottom lip becomes one of yoongi's favourite places to kiss.

[jaeminlore]

Cat Boy // Nakamoto Yuta

-

the prompt: I’d like to request a Yuta NCT scenario where he receives a cat statue in the mail but there’s no return address. He goes to sleep and when he wakes up the next morning, he feels strange and his members scream when they see him because he now has a tail and cat ears. The item was cursed, and Mark tells him to visit the reader because she has knowledge of witchcraft and there’s an instant connection. Fluffy humor, if you can.

words: 1529

category: fluff + comedy

author note: au’s are always a good time and also i haven’t written for yuta since January and i missed him. also i made the reader an actual hogwarts graduate witch whoops

- destinee

wow he’s so handsome talk abt a bias wrecker

-

“We got fan mail,” Johnny announced, placing a few boxes and envelopes onto the coffee table of NCT’s dorm.

Yuta paused the anime he had been watching and sat up, having been slouching into the couch cushions. “Any for me?”

Johnny pointed to the biggest box in the table. “That one is addressed to our apartment. It says Yuta on it so I guess it’s yours.”

“No return address?” Yuta grinned and grabbed the box, wondering what could be inside for him. After struggling a bit, he finally managed to open the box and dig through the styrofoam peanuts within.

He extracted a… cat statue?

Yuta stared at the foot-long cat statue that seems to be in mid-hiss, it’s back arched. “What’s this?”

Johnny looked that the cat, taking in it’s eyes that seemed to be made of actual rubies. “Dude, that’s scary.”

“It’s kind of cool,” Yuta said, ignoring his older friend. “The eyes look like they’re glowing.”

Donghyuck walked in then, ready to search for any letters that had been left for him. He stopped when he noticed the statue in Yuta’s hands. “What is that demonic statue doing in our dorm?”

“It’s not demonic,” Yuta corrected him. “It’s retro.”

“Well, when you don’t wake up tomorrow because of your “retro” statue, can I have your clothes.“

Yuta threw a styrofoam peanut at him.

-

When Yuta awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find that he had pushed all of his blankets off of him during the night. Usually he liked being covered by his blankets.

He yawned and sat up, stretching his arms and legs out as much as he could. He could hear the other members out and about in the kitchen, eating cereal before they spent their weekend however they individually pleased.

Yuta stood up and scratched his bare stomach. He craved milk for some reason, but not the cereal that he usually ate with it. Perhaps his bones were growing.

He walked into the kitchen, mumbling a quick hello to the boys that were around the table. None of them looked up to greet him, but they all acknowledged his presence with short comments of hello.

Yuta opened the fridge and grabbed the milk, pouring some into a glass cup.

“Woah! What is that?” Johnny yelled.

“What?” Yuta replaced the milk and turned around to see everyone at the table staring at him with wide eyes.

When Donghyuck came downstairs, he took one look at Yuta and screamed. One loud, high-pitched scream that frightened Yuta into dropping his glass of milk.

He hissed as the spilled Milk touched his bare feet and jumped back. “Why’d you scream, Donghyuck?”

“You have ears!” Donghyuck answered, still yelling loudly. “And a tail! I told you it was demonic!”

Yuta turned around and looked at his tailbone, where he saw that Donghyuck was right. A long, dark brown tail flicked back and forth as Yuta got more confused.

His eyes widened. “Why do I have a tail?!” He reached up and grabbed his hair. There were two large, triangular ears on top of his head, flattened in fear. “Why do I have cat ears?!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Taeyong fretted as he paced back and forth in the kitchen. “First thing we have to do is get rid of that cursed object.”

“I’m on it,” Ten said in a low, set tone. He opened the cabinet under the kitchen sink and extracted two rubber gloves, along with a pair of kitchen tongs. “Wish me luck.”

“Not my tongs!” Taeil scolded him, ripping the grilling tool out of Ten’s hand. “The gloves are enough.”

“Okay,” Ten breathed, his eyebrows narrowed. He stood up straight and saluted, “If I don’t come back, tell my family I—”

“Just go!” Yuta yelled hysterically, his tail now swishing angrily behind him.

“Fine!” Ten said back. “I’m going!”

He crept up the stairs, rather cat-like, although no one was willing to use that term in this particular situation.

“What do I do?” Yuta moaned, his eyes wide with fear.

Mark, who had been quiet this whole time, rose his hand timidly. “This might be strange, but I think I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?” Yuta asked eagerly.

“You know that place in town? Y/n’s Emporium of Witchcraft and Fortunes?”

Donghyuck sneered. “No way, man! There’s a rumor going around that she curses people who enter her store and refuse to buy anything!”

Mark shrugged. “So you’ll buy something. Look, maybe Y/n can tell us how to reverse the curse.”

“Okay,” Yuta nodded. “Well I need to go soon because I can’t come back to work with a tail.”

“Alright, good luck.”

“Wait!” Ten shouted from the top of the stairs. With thundering footsteps, he returned to the kitchen, holding the statue up with his rubber gloves. “Take this with you and she can dissect it or something.”

“Okay,” Yuta agreed, taking the statue hesitantly with his bare hands. “Bye, guys.”

Yuta went upstairs to put on a shirt and find a hat to hide his ears.

-

You leaned against your service counter, drumming your fingers on the dark purple tablecloth. Any minute now, your friend should be visiting you to complain about the little gift you had sent to him.

Yuto had been annoying you lately, charming your drains so that frogs crept out of them. It was annoying, and they also clogged the drains up.

Surely turning him into a cat boy would teach him a lesson: that you were the better wizard. The two of you had attended the same wizard academy, and had always been in a friendly completion to see who was better.

The bell above your door jingled, signaling the arrival of your friend. “Finally!” You shouted. “Now you’ll think twice about clogging up my drains, won’t you?”

But the boy who rounded the corner what not Yuto. No, this boy was extremely handsome, even though he was wearing only sweats and a t-shirt. A loose green beanie covered his soft-looking brown hair.

You opened your mouth to speak, yet nothing came out as the boy set a gift bag onto the counter. “I have no idea what drains you’re talking about, but are you Y/n? Can you help me with this?”

You nodded slowly and took the bag, unable to stop looking at his handsome face. Finally breaking your gaze from his face, you peered into the bag and gasped. “Oh, dear. Where did you get this from?”

“It was sent to my doorstep. My name was on the box so I opened it… and then this happened.” He then pulled of his beanie, revealing a pair of cat ears.

He looked really cute, with his large, innocent eyes and his downturned cat ears.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, “Aw, you look cute!” You reached over the counter and scratched behind one of his cat ears.

A strange noise erupted in his throat, and it sounded exactly like a purr. The boy looked up at you in alarm, “That was a purr, not a moan!”

“I know,” you giggled at the boy’s awkwardness. Here, let me get the details so we can reverse the curse. First, we’ll need the person who sent you this. Do you know who it was?“

“No,” he answered.

“Okay. Well, what’s your name?”

“Yuta Nakamoto.”

“Yuta?” You did a double take and widened your eyes. “Wait, do you live in the apartment complexes down the road?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Do you know who sent it?”

“Hold on.” You pulled a pen out of you pocket and grabbed a piece of paper from behind the counter. “Did it look like this?”

Yuta looked down at the paper, where you had written Yuto. Although, your writing was eccentric, so it would’ve been easy for him to mistake the O as an A.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what it looked like! Do you know who sent it?”

You slowly lifted your hand up. “I think I did. Not on purpose, though! It was for my friend, Yuto. You can see where that would’ve gotten mixed up, right?”

The boy grinned and let out a chuckle. “Well, at least I know no one is out to really curse me. How do I get it undone?”

“Oh, give me a moment.” You quickly grabbed the statue and banged it against the counter, causing the rubies to fall out. “Take this home tonight, and the effects will be reversed.”

He accepted the statue. “Thank you so much.”

He began to leave, but you stopped him. “Wait! Didn’t you hear the legend about me?”

Yuta turned around, “You mean you’ll curse whoever doesn’t buy something? I didn’t bring much money.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled. “Why don’t you take me out for coffee some time, your treat, and I’ll make sure you don’t get cursed again.”

His left ear twitched, and his lips lifted into a bashful smile. “Alright. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at eight, when my tail is gone and I look normal again.”

You smiled back at him, “I’ll be there.”

~the end~

[swan-archive]

i understand towel-throwing; i shall join you. headcannon: shifter!Alex is mostly human around his Betsey, but sometimes - when he needs to be - he's very soft.

“You do realize, of course, that there’s a very real chance you’ve married a demon.”

“Well, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“I’m not! I could be an agent of the devil, using his dark powers to bewitch you into Satan’s infernal service, and you’d never even—oof! All right, all right, I yield!”

“That so?”

“…I yield to the fair demonslayer, she who vanquishes the legions of hell with the might of her arm—”

Eliza clouts him again with the pillow. He shrieks.

“First off,” says Eliza, pulling the pillow off Alexander’s face and striving to ignore his smirk, and the odd little stubby spines coming in along the edges of his jaw. “I think I’d’ve noticed you bursting into flames upon uttering a word of prayer. Second, I’ve seen you walk into a church. No flames there either. Unless you’re very good at hiding it.”

“It would have to be a miraculous recovery indeed,” Alexander says, scratching at his face. “Which, I think, defeats the whole point of witchcraft. Depending on your interpretation of what constitutes a miracle, of course. They say the devil looks after his own, but to what extent…” 

“I’m not going to debate theology with you on my honeymoon.”

“Our honeymoon.” 

“Our honeymoon,” Eliza concedes. “And you’re getting sidetracked. I wasn’t done.”

“Oh, no? Please summarize for me. Point the first, I can speak a prayer in sincerity without going all to ash and brimstone. Point the second, I can cross the threshold of a church without experiencing same. And third…?”

“Point the third,” says Eliza, “The whole idea is absurd anyway because I know you’re not a demon. You wouldn’t hurt me. You wouldn’t try to drag my soul to hell. I trust you. That’s that.”

“Wha—that’s not an argument at all,” Alexander protests, but there’s relief in his eyes, an ease to his smile that wasn’t there before, and the little spines on his face are blooming into downy feathers. Eliza reaches out to touch and Alex pounces, tumbles her laughing onto the bed, and shrugs a pair of great dove-wings from his shoulders to enfold her. White feathers all around her, white feathers under her lips where she kisses him.

Alexander drinks her in, his eyes very dark against the pale feathers, and maybe Eliza’s sure he’s not a demon, but she can’t say with as much certainty that she hasn’t caught herself a very, very strange angel.

–

Alexander loves his children very much, but he has to admit: they can get quite loud. Alarmingly loud, even when he has explained to the three of them that Papa is working on some extremely important essays that he needs everyone to read, and has deadlines coming up, and it looks like he is about to lose a collaborator, and, and, and—

He tried going without ears for a bit, but the dead silence made it even harder to concentrate, and what if something actually happened to one of them? He’d have no idea, and that thought rattles his concentration even more. Better just to grit his teeth and tough it out. Although he’s regretting that decision now, as the racket of a crying child approaches his office door at a speed suggesting the child in question is being carried by its mother.

“Door’s open,” he calls, at Eliza’s first knock, and she shoves her way in, bearing a red-faced, mid-tantrum Angie.

“She wants her papa,” Eliza says, by way of explanation.

“And did you tell her that Papa is busy right now and can’t play?”

“You know, this may come as a surprise to you, but factual arguments don’t always fly so well with a three-year-old—what’s that, sweetheart?” Angie hiccups several times before sobbing out something indistinct. “Ah. She wants you to do the thing, dear.”

“Do the—I am working.”

Angie shrieks like she’s having her foot sawn off. Eliza looks ever so faintly ruffled. “Alexander. Please. Just do it.”

“I—oh, fine, all right, one second.” Alex hurriedly unbuttons his waistcoat and begins picking at his cravat as Eliza bounces Angie in a vain attempt to calm her.

“Alex…”

“I know, I know, I know.” Alex yanks his shirt over his head, tosses it onto the floor, and then his arms snake out to snatch Angie out of Eliza’s grasp. “Hi, sweetheart,” he coos at her, “hi, baby, look at papa, look at me—that’s it, now, are you ready, can you count with me? One, two, and—”

He wrinkles his nose at her, crosses his eyes, and with a poof is suddenly covered in a thick shaggy coat like a sheepdog. Angie falls silent mid-sob, her eyes still very wide and wet, but her lips fighting back a smile.

“Where’s my girl? Where’s my little girl?” Alex growls from behind his curtain of fur. He nuzzles at Angie’s tummy, and Angie can’t help it then, she giggles and squirms in his arms.

“I’m here, Papa, I’m here, you’re tickling.”

“Have you been giving your Mama trouble? Is that what you’ve—I’ll tickle you to pieces, that’s what naughty little girls get! Hold still!” A third arm, covered in the same thick fur as the rest of him, sprouts from his side. He’s barely even touched her with it before she bursts into peals of laughter, her earlier fit all but forgotten.

“If I’d known it would be this easy, I would have brought her up here half an hour ago,” says Eliza with a smirk. Alex concentrates until the fur on his face has shrunk back into a velvety fuzz short enough for him to see past, then frowns at her.

“Yes, well, thank you for not interrupting,” he says a bit crossly. Angie is draping his fur over her head to make herself a fluffy wig. “I wasn’t joking when I said I was busy.”

“Did I say you were? It’s just easier to manage the children when there are two of us around, that’s all.”

“I’m around! I’m right here.”

“Sure. Here, upstairs, in your office, with the door closed, with strict instructions that you’re not to be disturbed…”

“That’s unfair, and you know it. Jay’s ill, Eliza, and James’ health isn’t the best, and if we’re to stick to our schedule—well, someone has to put the work in.”

“Surely you can take one evening to have dinner with your family,” she shoots back. “The children are going to forget what their papa looks like.”

“I can look like whatever they—” He stops, mentally checks himself. You’re being unreasonable, Alexander. These are your children. Is this project really so important that you can justify shutting yourself away from them?

Well, technically... His lawyer’s brain calls up a list of explanations immediately, but Alex clamps down on that voice for the time being. Sighs. The breath ruffles his whiskers, and when did he sprout those? “No, you’re right, I—one hour. I can spare an hour. But then I really have to get back to this.”

“Two hours, and I’ll proofread whatever’s going to the presses next. I’ve seen the kind of nonsense you put out when you’re not getting enough rest, and god knows you haven’t been getting enough lately.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Hamilton.” Alex hooks an arm around her waist and pulls her into a hug. “Next time, I’ll have to enlist you to write an installment of—ow, Angie, ow, that hurts Papa.”

“Don’t tug on it, sweetie, how would you like it if someone pulled your hair that hard?” says Eliza, peeling Angie’s fingers off the hank of fur she’s been yanking at. “Tell you what, why don’t you take your papa downstairs? I’m sure your brothers could use a good visit from the tickle monster.”

–

“Oh, Betsey, I came as soon as I could,” says Alexander, and the part of Eliza’s brain that’s still working coughs up the barest ounce of concern that that doesn’t seem to have fixed anything. How she’d longed for him, how she’d cried out for him, and it had hurt and she’d been so scared and so lonely and he hadn’t been there and he hadn’t been there and he hadn’t been there. Day after cold empty day, dragging her feet, reassuring the family with what strength she could gather that she was well, that she’d be fine before they knew it, telling herself just wait until Alexander gets home, once you’re together again it’ll all be right.

He’s home. It’s not all right.

He’s still speaking, but the words sound garbled and flat as all the other reassurances she’s heard lately. Hollow. Emptied out, just like her. Suddenly the sight of him is more than she can bear right now, his apologies a sick reminder of what they’ve lost. She turns her face away from him, closes her eyes. Can barely feel it when he lets go of her hand and steps back from the bed.

A rustling of fabric falling to the ground, a scritching noise against the bedsheets. “Betsey,” Alexander says, very quiet and very close to her ear.

Eliza rolls over. Blinks at him, perched on the pillow next to her head, shrunk down from guilt and sorrow to a tiny weaselly creature with a flat face somewhere between human and owl. She could almost laugh at what a sight he makes, if she remembered how to laugh.

“I’m so s—I won’t talk. I’m sorry. I won’t talk if you don’t want to hear it,” says Alexander, wringing several pairs of little paws. “I know it can’t—there aren’t words—but if I could just stay here with you. Please.”

Eliza reaches over and Alexander tenses, as though he’s expecting her to swat him off the bed. She rests her thumb between Alexander’s first set of shoulders, gentle gentle, feels for the bird-fast humming of his fierce heart. Strokes along the grain of the mingled feathers and fur, soft as a baby’s skin.

She still can’t find the words, but Alexander, bless him, understands, and he scurries down the length of her arm and up over her shoulder to curl himself into a ball just over her own heart. So small she can barely feel the weight of him, wouldn’t know he was there but for the delicate pricking of his claws. She cups her hands around him. It’s all show, of course, but it lightens her heart just a little to have something small and fragile to hold close, to protect.

“I should have been here,” Alexander whispers against her palm. And yes, yes, he should have, but it’s too late for that now, and what real difference would it have made? He’s no doctor, and for all his powers there are miracles even he can’t work.

They still would have lost the baby.

Eliza lets her eyes fall shut. Drifts. Distantly, she feels Alexander’s body trembling between her hands, the faintest trace of wetness on her skin from his tears.

He’s here now. That will have to be enough.

[asksansweredpdf]

1: Golden mornings or peachy sunsets? golden mornings

2: Sugar cones or waffle cones? i dont have a preference. i guess waffle cones?

3: Do you wear scarves often? do you have a favorite? i knit scarves out of boredom so i end up wearing a few of them. i bought this fluffy wool that was so incredibly soft! it made a gorgeous scarf so its probably my favourite

4: How long do you lay in bed before you finally get up? i make sure (when im living in home) it’s always by 9am - doesnt matter what time i wake up. but when im out of home and have no one to answer to, then it’s just as long as i can before i have to get up for work, food, or to wake and bake

5: Is there a food you’ve never had but always wanted to try? no actually! i’d like to make a good homemade ramen but i’ve tried that at the store

6: What does your umbrella look like? it’s black. but there is one that’s black but turns rainbow once it’s wet which i really want to buy

7: Do you listen to ASMR? nope. i only have a vague idea about what asmr is tbh

8: Rain storms or a light drizzle? rain storms!

9: What’s a little thing in life that you love? music

10: Favorite color aesthetic? red & black. or pastels

11: Wobbly lines or using a ruler? wobby lines much to the dismay of my maths teachers

12:  Bright colorful living room or neutral cozy living room? bright and colourful! that’ll be one thing i’ll definitely have if i ever own a house

13: Do you have any candles? what scents are they? i do but they’re mostly for witchcraft & are scent free. but the scents i usually buy are caramels or vanillas

14: Have you ever rode a horse? yes! loved it. but the most recent time i fell off which is unfortunate

15: Do you have glasses? i do! they’re 4 years old though. my most recent pair i gave to my sister because neither pair particularly suited me very well. but i’m hoping to get enough money together in a few years to get new glasses that look kinda decent.

16: What’s a language you’d like to speak? punjabi so i can talk to my relatives

17: What’s your favorite season and favorite month in that season? summer and probably december because i love the christmas season! at work it’s fun because its always busy, and i love seeing everything decorated and hearing the carols playing

18: Do you have a favorite pair of socks? yeah either this deadpool pair, or my black thigh ones

19: Favorite Ghibli and/or disney movie ghibli: kiki’s delivery service; disney: frozen or live action cinderella

20: Disney, Dreamworks, or Pixar? disney i guess

21: What snacks do you usually get at the theater? ooh! i always get sour gummy worms, white chocolate raspberry bullets, and sometimes chocolate

22: What’s an underrated video game/ movie/ show you love and think it needs more recognition? anne with an e from netflix or champions

23: Would you fill your house with plants if you had a green thumb? god yes! i did when i moved out initially

24; All plants are great but do you have a favorite? ;) i sure do

25: Do you have a favorite type of art style? (eg: soft looking, no to little color, sketches, crisp and clean, minimalist, pixel art etc.) soft looking or minimalist? some trippy stuff is cool too

26: What would you do if someone gave you flowers? it happened once and i was very drunk and i teared up

27: Do you like nicknames? i adore them. i only give ppl nicknames as like an affectionate thing so when i get one it’s nice

28: Do you still watch shows you watched when you were a kid? even from time to time? absolutely! sailor moon & winx club & barbie movies

29: Do you still like old memes? (tell the truth) yeah if they’re funny

30: Favorite Halloween costume you dressed up as? (if you don’t celebrate halloween have you ever cosplayed or would you like to? who did you cosplay as?) i went as a witch for halloween last year which was definitely my favourite

31:  Are you a fashionable person? i would be if i had more money. but i do what i can

32: Do you like watching holiday movies? yeah if they’re good

33:  Cookies or brownies? cookies

34: Do you blow in the cold air just to see your breath? all the time

35: Do you find the crickets chirping outside your window relaxing? i usually dont notice them

36: Do you like cobblestone streets? adore them

37:  How often do you doodle? not very often because i never have a pen and paper around after graduating high school

38: When was the last time you blew bubbles? huh... honestly cant remember

39: What’s your favorite random piece of decor in your house and room? this pink flower pot that has pretty flowers in it

40: Do you bite your fingernails off or clip them more often? i sued to only clip them but ive gotten back into the habit of biting them. so its pretty 50/50 atm but im trying to change it

41: Any birthmarks? big old mole on my right arm. and a lighter one on the side of my face

42: Thoughts on freckles? love them!

43: First video game you ever played? spyro or crash bandicoot

44: what type of bird do you hear most often outside your door? crows or bell birds

45: Do you use gifs/ memes a lot when replying to people? yeah haha pretty often

46: Thoughts on spring? love it. still too cold but love it

47: Ideal temperature outside? anywhere upward of 20C

48: Cloudy, partly cloudy, or clear skies? either. as long as it’s not too cold. - i feel like i should explain that i’m a cold person by nature but also just so iron deficient. like extremely iron deficient which doesnt help

49: How often do you hear airplanes outside? i dont notice them but i’d say maybe once a week ave?

50: Do you enjoy windy days? NO