#I don’t know where he got all this witchcraft and devil stuff from but I might play into just to piss him off

[psychics4unet]

100 Movies and TV Shows That Are All About Tarot Magic! 🔮✨📺

Movies

The Hunger Games (2012) - Katniss’s journey is like a tarot reading on steroids; choices and fate collide in a dystopian arena where survival is everything. 🎯

The Craft (1996) - A classic teen witch flick where tarot helps our girls explore their powers and the messy side of friendships. ⚡🧙‍♀️

The Matrix (1999) - Think of it as a giant tarot deck—Neo’s choices determine his fate in this mind-bending reality. 🕶️💊

Live and Let Die (1973) - Bond's tarot experience gives him the edge to outsmart villains; it's all about fate and danger, baby! 🔫🃏

The Devil's Advocate (1997) - The ultimate battle of good vs. evil, with tarot adding layers of temptation and deception to the mix. 😈��️

The Mummy Returns (2001) - Who knew tarot could be a map to ancient magic? This adventure intertwines destiny with mystical fun. 🏺✨

The Dead Zone (1983) - A guy wakes up from a coma with psychic powers—basically a walking tarot deck revealing tragedies. 🥴🔮

The Gift (2000) - A psychic woman using tarot to solve a murder? Yes, please! The cards are a game changer for uncovering dark secrets. 🕵️‍♀️🖤

The Love Witch (2016) - Tarot is the ultimate love compass in this enchanting quest for romance; it’s a spellbinding ride. 💖🔮

The House of the Devil (2009) - Tarot cards hint at some seriously creepy stuff in this horror flick—just don’t ignore the signs! 👻🃏

The Witches of Eastwick (1987) - Witchy shenanigans are afoot! Tarot helps the ladies navigate their newfound powers in style. 🧙‍♀️✨

The Skeleton Key (2005) - Tarot adds a twist to this supernatural thriller, hinting at fate and transformation along the way. 🔑👻

The Tarot Card Mystery (1935) - A vintage mystery where tarot cards reveal secrets—definitely ahead of its time! 🃏🔍

The Witch (2015) - A haunting exploration of fear and isolation, with themes echoing tarot’s focus on the unknown. 🌌😱

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (2010) - Magic meets fate in this fun adventure; think of it as a magical tarot experience! ⚡️🧙

The Haunted Mansion (2003) - Tarot cards pop up as quirky tools to navigate spooky secrets—who doesn’t love a ghostly adventure? 👻🏰

The Seventh Seal (1957) - A classic that dives deep into mortality and fate, reminiscent of tarot’s existential vibes. ⚔️🕊️

The Brothers Bloom (2008) - Tarot elements add complexity to sibling dynamics; it’s all about finding purpose in the chaos. 🃏💔

The Final Destination (2000) - If that ain’t a tarot-inspired fate, I don’t know what is! Choices lead to some wild outcomes in this thriller. 💀🎲

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011) - Dark secrets are unearthed, much like the revelations from a tarot reading. Intriguing, right? 🔍🖤

The Rites of Spring (2011) - A horror flick that vibes with sacrifice and fate, echoing the symbolism found in tarot cards. 🌱🔪

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1956) - Tension and unpredictability—this plot screams tarot vibes as life’s mysteries unfold. 🎭🔎

The Illusionist (2006) - A magician’s journey that parallels tarot’s mystical essence as he navigates love and fate. 🎩💫

The Others (2001) - Creepy atmosphere and hidden truths? Yep, tarot’s got that covered, too! 👻🔮

The Craft: Legacy (2020) - A fresh take on the original that dives into friendship and power through the lens of tarot and witchcraft. 🔮✨

The Fifth Element (1997) - This sci-fi classic combines magic and fate with a dash of humor; it’s like a cosmic tarot reading! 🚀💥

The Lovely Bones (2009) - A supernatural tale where tarot-like elements hint at the unseen and the unknown. 🌌🕊️

The Skeleton Twins (2014) - A dark comedy that touches on fate and family dynamics, echoing tarot’s complex themes. 🎭💔

The Secret of Roan Inish (1994) - Folklore meets mystery; the film explores themes of fate that resonate with tarot’s storytelling. 🏝️🐬

The Last Witch Hunter (2015) - Vin Diesel vs. witches with a side of tarot magic? Count me in! ⚔️🔮

The Psychic (1978) - This film dives deep into the world of psychic phenomena, showcasing tarot as a vital element. 🔮👁️

The Circle (2017) - A social media thriller where hidden truths emerge, similar to what tarot often reveals. 📱🔍

The Lady in White (1988) - A ghost story intertwined with mystery and fate, echoing the essence of tarot. 👻💔

The Stars Are Right (2016) - A quirky indie film that explores fate and destiny, capturing the spirit of tarot. 🌌✨

The Cat's Meow (2001) - A mysterious film where tarot serves as a lens through which the story unfolds. 🎩🔮

The Amityville Horror (1979) - Ghostly encounters hint at fate and the unknown, reminiscent of tarot's spooky vibes. 🏠👻

The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999) - Themes of identity and fate intertwine, much like a complex tarot spread. 🎭🔪

The Cabin in the Woods (2011) - A meta-horror film that plays with fate and choices, echoing the unpredictability of tarot readings. 🏕️🔮

The Golem (2018) - A mystical tale that explores themes of creation and fate through the lens of folklore. 🏺🌌

The Tenth Victim (1965) - A blend of sci-fi and existential themes, featuring fate and choices akin to tarot narratives. 🎯🔮

The Last House on the Left (1972) - A horror classic where fate and revenge intertwine, reminiscent of a dark tarot reading. 🔪😱

The Uninvited (2009) - A supernatural thriller that hints at hidden truths and fate, paralleling tarot’s revelations. 🏠👻

The Beloved (2002) - A haunting exploration of love and loss, echoing tarot's complex emotional landscapes. 💔🔮

The Dreamers (2003) - A film that dives into identity and choice, echoing the themes found in tarot readings. 🌙✨

The Giver (2014) - Themes of choice and fate resonate in this adaptation, mirroring the insights tarot can provide. 📚🔮

The Stendhal Syndrome (1996) - A psychological thriller exploring identity and fate, akin to the symbolism in tarot. 🎨🌀

The Inheritance (2020) - A suspenseful tale where family secrets unravel, showcasing tarot’s ability to reveal hidden truths. 🏡🔍

The Illumination of the Heart (2021) - A story of self-discovery and fate that resonates with tarot's themes. 💖🔮

The Shadow of the Wind (2021) - This adaptation plays with themes of fate and discovery, much like a tarot reading. 📖✨

The Tenth Victim (1965) - A blend of sci-fi and existential themes, featuring fate and choices akin to tarot narratives. 🎯🔮

TV Series

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Buffy’s journey often mirrors tarot themes of fate and choice, especially with her supernatural challenges. 🧛‍♀️🃏

True Detective - Dark and atmospheric, tarot-like symbolism underscores the show’s exploration of fate and morality. 🌌🔍

The Simpsons - Tarot pops up in humorous moments, revealing the show’s clever take on destiny and future events. 😂🔮

Charmed - Sister witches often use tarot to guide their magical choices and navigate personal dilemmas. 🌟🧙‍♀️

American Horror Story: Coven - The use of tarot enhances the show’s dark themes, revealing secrets and fate in the world of witches. 🔮👻

Supernatural - The Winchesters encounter tarot in their monster-hunting adventures, adding depth to their supernatural quests. 👬🔪

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina - Tarot plays a significant role as Sabrina navigates the complexities of magic and destiny. 🧙‍♀️🖤

Psychic Detectives - This series highlights real-life psychic detectives using tarot and intuition to solve crimes. 🔍🔮

The OA - The show’s exploration of alternate realities and fate resonates with tarot's deeper meanings. 🌌✨

The Twilight Zone - Various episodes reflect on fate and the unexpected, echoing tarot's insights into human nature. 🌠🌀

Once Upon a Time - The blend of fairy tales and fate often hints at tarot-like themes throughout the series. 📖✨

The Good Place - Philosophical discussions about morality and choice parallel the insights gained from tarot readings. 😇💭

Castle - The detective duo sometimes turns to tarot for insights into their cases, blending humor and mystery. 🔍📚

Dark Shadows - The gothic series often intertwines themes of fate and supernatural elements akin to tarot. 🌙🦇

Twin Peaks - The series’ exploration of dreams and hidden truths resonates with the mystique of tarot readings. 🌌👁️

The Simpsons - Tarot gets a playful nod in various episodes, reflecting the show’s irreverent humor about fate. 😂🃏

Shadowhunters - The characters explore destiny and choice in a world filled with supernatural elements, echoing tarot themes. 🌌🗡️

The Secret Life of the American Teenager - Characters often face choices that mirror the dilemmas found in tarot readings. 🏫💔

The Sopranos - Characters navigate fate and morality, exploring themes that resonate with tarot’s insights. 🔫💭

The Expanse - Choices and destinies intertwine in this sci-fi epic, mirroring the complexity of a tarot spread. 🚀🔮

The Haunting of Hill House - Themes of grief and fate resonate deeply, akin to the revelations found in tarot readings. 👻💔

The Mentalist - The protagonist’s observational skills often mirror the insights one might gain from tarot. 🕵️‍♂️🔮

The Umbrella Academy - Themes of family, fate, and destiny play out in wild ways, much like a tarot deck in action. 🌈🦸‍♂️

The Vampire Diaries - Characters often face choices that echo the dilemmas and fates seen in tarot readings. 🧛‍♀️💔

The Blacklist - The use of intuition and uncovering secrets parallels the insights gained from tarot. 🕵️‍♀️🔍

The Office - Tarot makes a quirky appearance, offering a humorous take on fate and decision-making. 😂📋

The Simpsons - Tarot gets a playful nod in various episodes, reflecting the show’s irreverent humor about fate. 😂🃏

The Big Bang Theory - Characters often joke about tarot, providing comedic insights into fate and decisions. 🧑‍🔬🎲

The X-Files - Paranormal elements and investigations often touch on themes akin to tarot’s mysteries. 👽🔍

The West Wing - Political decisions and moral dilemmas resonate with themes found in tarot readings. 🏛️💭

The Good Wife - Legal battles and ethical choices reflect the complexities of fate and decision-making, much like tarot. ⚖️💔

The Middle - Everyday choices in family life often resonate with the relatable dilemmas seen in tarot spreads. 🏠💖

The Secret Life of the American Teenager - Characters face life-altering decisions that echo the themes found in tarot readings. 🏫💔

The Affair - Complex relationships and moral choices explore themes of fate that resonate with tarot’s insights. 🌊💔

The Good Fight - Legal drama intertwined with moral complexities, showcasing themes of fate and choice akin to tarot. ⚖️🔮

The Amazing Race - Contestants face challenges that mirror the unpredictability of tarot readings and fate. 🌍🏃‍♂️

The Neighborhood - Light-hearted comedy that often touches on fate and friendship, echoing themes found in tarot. 🏡💖

The Big Bang Theory - Characters explore humor and fate, providing a light-hearted take on tarot’s deeper meanings. 🎲😂

The Goldbergs - Family dynamics and nostalgic themes often resonate with relatable dilemmas seen in tarot readings. 🏠💖

The Resident - Medical dramas often explore moral dilemmas, reflecting the complexity of choices found in tarot. 🏥💔

The Good Place - Philosophical discussions about morality and choice mirror insights gained from tarot readings. 😇💭

The Wonder Years - A nostalgic exploration of life’s choices and fate, echoing the themes seen in tarot. 🌼💭

The Flash - Time travel and choices intertwine, reflecting themes of fate and destiny akin to tarot narratives. ⚡🕒

The Last Man on Earth - A humorous take on survival and fate in a post-apocalyptic world, echoing the themes found in tarot. 🌍😂

The Fall - A psychological thriller where the interplay of fate and morality resonates with tarot’s deeper meanings. 🕵️‍♀️💔

The Expanse - A complex narrative where fate and choices intertwine, much like a tarot spread. 🌌🔮

The Haunting of Hill House - A deep exploration of grief and fate, paralleling the revelations often found in tarot readings. 👻💔

The 100 - Survival and moral choices mirror the complex themes seen in tarot readings. 🌍🔪

The Mandalorian - Destiny and choice play significant roles as characters navigate a galaxy filled with uncertainty, echoing tarot’s themes. 🌌⚔️

The Walking Dead - The show dives into choices and fate in a post-apocalyptic world, reflecting the unpredictability of tarot. 🧟‍♂️🔮

[corky-the-gluttony-demon]

DMC: An Absurd Comedy (A Devil May Cry Fanfiction) - Wrath Followers Arc - Chapter 1

Synopsis: With rumors spreading regarding dark witchcraft spreading to the hidden islands of Vie de Marli, Nero gathers his team to look into the possible confrontation with Wrath. How would this effect them? Can they resist the urge of bloodlust and rage?

February 25th, 6:58 PM – Two minutes before closing time at Devil May Cry shop

Nero sat behind the counter, one leg kicked up on the desk, tapping his boot in a half-assed rhythm. His arm rested across the back of his chair like he was born to lounge, though the slight twitch in his fingers told a different story. He was bored out of his skull. He stared at the clock, waiting for the clock to strike 7 so he can close-up.

Nero then sees a car pull up right in front of the shop. Shit. Please tell me there is just limited parking, and he’s just headed to Bullseye’s Bar…

But nope, the man, a burly older guy was squinting at the neon sign. Wrong place, wrong place… Nero spotted the man nodding. Goddammit…

The bell above it gave a cheerful jingle.

The man’s shirt was wrinkled, jacket thrown on like an afterthought, and he was balding. “Devil May Cry,” Nero said mechanically, sitting up straight, “What do you need?”

"Uh, hi… I’m Mr. Gjerde. Lars. Lars Gjerde. Am I—am I too late?" He glanced at the clock on the wall, which read two minutes to closing.

Nero gave him a slow once-over, eyebrow cocked. "Nah. We close at seven." He waved a hand lazily.

Gjerde nodded, awkwardly shuffling further into the shop, almost tripping on the rug in the process. Meanwhile, Marcus had poked his head out from the back. Nico was with him, on the phone giggling with someone.

"Nico, we got a client. He’s got that 'I might cry in the car' look.”

“They all look like that, Marcus. Sorry, what was that. No, that’s just Marcus. He’s kind of our morality pet.”

“Hey! Wait… who are you talking to?” Nico held a hand up.

“Okay, let me know how it goes. Have fun!” She hung up the phone, “Alright, let’s see what this poor sunovabitch wants.” As she led Marcus out of the back, Lars was already explaining his situation to Nero.

"My daughter… Abigail. She's been missing for—well, for several years now. The police gave up, said it was one of those ‘runaway’ cases. But I know it wasn’t that. Abigail… she got mixed up with the wrong people. People who… dabble in witchcraft. Dark stuff."

Nero leaned forward, resting his arms on the counter, eyes narrowing. "Witchcraft? Dark stuff? That’s pretty vague, pal."

Gjerde swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting with the frayed edges of his jacket sleeve. "I’m not sure what all of it means, but… recently, I heard something. From an old friend. Said she might be on an island—Vie de Marli. Have you heard of it?"

Nico’s eyebrows shot up. "Vie de Marli?”

Nero glanced at her, then back at Lars. "And this ‘friend’—he just so happens to know your daughter’s holed up there? Sounds… convenient."

"He didn’t say she was there for sure, but he saw someone… someone who looked like her," Lars replied, his eyes wide with desperate hope. "I don’t know what else to do. Please, she’s my daughter."

Nero sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, we’ll look into it.”

As if on cue, a voice came from behind them. "Vie de Marli. It’s not a place one travels to lightly."

Marcus yelped as he spun around. There, standing in the shadow of the room, was V. Tall, pale, and unreadable as ever, he leaned casually on his cane, like he'd been there the whole time.

"What the hell?" Marcus sputtered. "Where did you even come from?"

"Better question," Nico added, hand on her hip, "why do you always show up like a damn ghost?”

V ignored them both, his eyes fixed on Nero. " Several hundred years ago, Sparda aided in exorcising an ancient evil known as Argosax The Chaos who was worshipped by a secret tribe of people among the inhabitants of the islands, and was the most malevolent god that ever existed. Sparda used the Arcanas with the help of the Protectors clan to seal the great devil. However, there have been rumors of wrath hidden within."

"Wrath?" Nero repeated. "You think this has to do with the Sins?"

V nodded slowly. "I suspect so. Wrath’s influence has been growing, and if Abigail has been involved in any dark arts, she may have unwittingly crossed into that territory. This is not any rescue mission. It’s a hunt."

Lars, who had been standing in stunned silence, now looked like someone had just poured ice water down his back. "What—what does that mean? What is Wrath?"

Nico shook her head, muttering under her breath, "Don’t worry sir, leave things to the professionals."

Nero glanced over to the map tacked to the wall behind the counter. His eyes flicked over the various pins and notes scrawled across it. One spot stood out—a knife buried deep into the map, marking a point just off the coast of the Americas. Scrawled in red ink next to it: Vie de Marli.

After completing their business with Lars, they informed him that they would keep him updated and he made his way out of the shop. Nero locked the door and flipped the sign to close.

"Dante mentioned something about Vie de Marli before," Nero told the others. "Apparently he has a friend that lives there. Never said much more.”

Marcus chimed in, pulling up some info on his computer. "Vie de Marli… this place is, uh… well, I can’t find much information on it on the web. I’ll call my old man and see if he’s got anything on it. Maybe he knows something about this 'friend' of Dante’s."

Nero nodded. "Good. Get everything you can from Morrison.”

"So… when do we head out?” Nico asked, “'Cause if it’s soon, I need to figure out transport for the van. Also, we might wanna give Corky a heads-up. She’s still in Limbo City, right?"

"Yeah," Nero said, his eyes still fixed on the map. "We’ll need her. She’s just been doing some damage control from the mess we left behind after Mammon."

"And Felix?" Marcus asked, cautiously.

Nero grimaced, a sharp breath leaving him.

[adrianasunderworld]

The White Witch

Isabelle before she was in Twst

📚💙📚

    Saturdays were for witchcraft.

    Isabelle had received a message from Juliet the Friday before with a list of supplies she needed to get and deliver for her. This had become a regular occurrence this Summer. Becoming an errand girl for her cousin was not what she had expected when she had signed on for the apprenticeship the month prior, but here it was. But even so, Juliet insisted it was how she had started and it was a good way to make herself familiar with everything and commit it all to memory before she could do any real magic.

    So, as she had the Saturday prior and the one before that, Isabelle woke early to go to the store and take care of the shopping with the money she had been given, all the while anxiously counting everything to make sure she had enough. Juliet always gave her the correct amount, but it was still a habit.

    Walking through her neighborhood to the place she was to bring all these too, a friend of her grandmothers called from her porch. “Isabelle!” the older woman waved.

    “Morning Mrs.Rodriguez.” Isabelle stopped in front of the fence and waved politely back. She hoped the woman would make it fast but knew better. 

      Mrs.Rodriguez saw the tote bag and wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “I see you’re off to see…her again.” 

     Isabelle only grinned wider though the grip on her bag was tightening. “I am.”

     The woman scoffed. “Honestly, I don’t know what Marisol is thinking letting you run off to that house. She let that witch lead Juliet and Ophelia astray, and now she’s letting them take you with them.”

     “We’re not astray,” Isabelle said. God did she hate talking to her. “We’re just-”

      “What you’re doing is evil,” Mrs.Rodriguiez interjected. “If your grandmother had any sense she would take you to church. You know my nephew goes and he’s-”

      “I think I'll take my chances with the devil.” Isabelle said, not wanting to stay a moment longer as she hurried off. “Have a good day!” She was going to hear about this from her grandma later, she just knew it.

          Despite what people like Mrs.Rodriguez thought, or the classmates that whispered about her, the white house across the graveyard was not an evil place. The old house was small, the warm white paint was worn around the edges, the garden out front lovingly cared for. As Isabelle walked the pathway, the front door slowly creaked open on it’s own to welcome her. On the other side sat a white cat, it’s large blue looking up at her as it meowed in greeting.

     “Hi Estrella.” Isabelle crouched down and scratched the cat behind her ears. “Where’s Titi?”

      Estrella looked at her with eyes she swore was far too intelligent for any cat and walked off towards the back of the house where the kitchen was. She followed. Despite the owners affinity for white, the inside of the house itself was fairly normal. At least as normal as it could have been. The old wood furniture was worn but taken care of. The bookshelves she walked past crammed with books that one day she would hopefully be able to understand. 

     There was a sound of humming coming from the kitchen and a woman was at the counter, her back to the door so all Isabelle saw was the long waves of gray and white hair. “Good morning Isabelle.” The woman greeted her in her usually calm voice.

    “Morning,Titi Blanca.” Isabelle did not know the woman's real name. Neither did her cousins. Everyone around here had been calling her La Bruja Blanca from as far back as their grandmother's day. But to those who were kinder to her, she was simply Titi Blanca. “I got the stuff you needed.”

     Titi Blanca unpacked the grocery bag and examined everything. “Very good, thank you dear. Sit down sit down, you must be hungry.” With a wave of her hand a dish floated out from the cabinet and started to plate itself as the woman put aside everything.

    Isabelle gladly sat as the plate placed itself in front of her. She had barely eaten this morning and was in dire need of some breakfast. As she dug in, Titi poured a cup of tea into a mug and placed it in front of her before sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen table and sipping from her own mug. 

    “It’s almost time to begin your real training, are you excited?”

     Isabelle nodded. “Very. But I really don’t get why i couldnt start right away.”

     The woman chuckled. “Patience. Juliet didn’t start right away either,” 

     “But Ophelia did,” She pointed. “She went right to the Devildom and made seven pacts in a year.” 

     “Well you are not Ophelia, now are you?” She replied. “You are Isabelle, and you will learn on Isabelle time.” 

     Isabelle pouted. “Well maybe Isabelle time means learning fast as well.” 

     “I beg to differ,” Titi Blanca took another sip, “Now finish your tea.”

     “Why my tea?” 

     “Just finish it.” 

     Isabelle did as she was told and quickly downed her drink. When Titi Blanca reached out her hand, she gave it over and watched as the witch stared at the bottom of the cup. “You wanted to read the leaves?”

      She didn’t answer, only furrowed her brow. “I see…horns.”

      “Horns? Like a demons? Am I going to make a pact?” She gasped and asked excitedly “Am I going to study in the Devildom?!”

      “Hush!” 

     Isabelle stopped and sat back down. “Sorry.”

     “I see a crow…” Mammon? “A school…” RAD. “A cat…” Satan? “A tall dark stranger…” Well that could be anyone. “It’s odd,” She commented. “There’s many more but it’s hard to make out.” 

    “Maybe I’ll attend RAD and make a pact with a handsome demon,” Isabelle said, already thinking fondly of what could be.

    “I said tall, not handsome.” Titi corrected. “Is that what you want to go down there for? Handsome demons to have at your beck and call?”

    “I mean I wouldn’t hurt.” 

     The woman chuckled. “You and Ophelia are definitely related.” Titi Blanca gathered the plates and stood. “Regardless of what is to come, we have work to do in the present.” She put the dishes in the sink. “We have potions to prepare. Start cutting up everything you brought. While you’re at it, recite what each is for.”

     Isabelle took out the cutting board and knife and began her work. “Lavender for luck in love… Mugroot for protection…”

     “The reaction can be made by combining Mandrake Root with the Lions Tongue leaves.”

     “Correct again,Miss Rosa.” Professor Crewel said approvingly as he grinned at her. 

     “How does the magicless one know so much…” a guy that sat behind her grumbled to his friend behind him. Deuce shot a glare at him, but Isabelle only shook her head, it didn’t bother her. 

    The bell rang and everyone began to gather their things to leave. “I want you all to be prepared for the lab test tomorrow.” Crewel called out. 

    “Isabelle, can you please help me study?” Deuce asked as they walked out the hall.

    “What’s in it for me?” she teased.

    “I’ll buy dinner from Mostro Lounge,” he offered. “Just please help me.” 

    “You got a deal, “she grinned. “Stop by Ramshackle at around five.” 

    “How do you know so much anyway?” Deuce asked as they walked down the hall to Treins class. “You really know a lot despite not being from here.”

   “Some stuff carries over, I guess.” Isabelle smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “My cousin and her teacher drilled it all into me to prep for my apprenticeship.”

   “Whatever happened to that anyway? Did your cousin back out?”

    Isabelle shook her head. “No no. Juliet was so excited, she wanted everything to be right but…”

   “But?”

   “The day before I was suppose to actually start was when I ended up here instead. Now I have all this basic knowledge…” She sighed. “And no use for it.” Before Deuce could comment, the smile returned to her face. “Now come on, or we’ll be late.”   

[devils-little-sista]

.

[liliusy]

why i found the conclusion of this trilogy quite disappointing: a rant

this is of course just my personal opinion, if you enjoyed it i’m glad for you 

spoilers below

i wrote "conclusion" and not "fear street 1666" because i actually really enjoyed the 1666 stuff, my problems lies with the fear street 1994 part 2 only. I enjoyed 1666 because it was engaging and scary, i enjoyed the main characters, so let's talk about them. Sarah was great, the bit where she was "they think i'm a witch so i'll be one" was so good, i was on board because i could understand her motivation. She wasn't free to be with the woman she loved, she was accused of witchcraft for it, lost her brother, her father too if you think about it, she was about to be hanged with her lover, tbh a pact with the devil for some good old well deserved venegance sounds good Now let's talk about the other main Solomon, a psycho for sure, but it actually made sense (lack of better words i'm sorry english is not my first language). What I mean is, he lost his wife and child, the woman he loves doesn't, i guess those are "good" reasons as to why he lost his marbles to think that making a pact with the devil was the right idea. Also he choose as the first victim the pastor? You mean a symbol of God who he probably tought had failed him, ence why he went and offered himself to the devil, maybe it was casual idk but it felt symbolic and deep. He made a good villain, he got nothing to lose and everything to gain.

But what we end up having in 1994 is just so lame? Nick Goode's motivations are so meh? He sacrifices people because  so he can be sheriff and his brother mayor, oh wow cool I know Sunnyvale ended up being this perfect place because of the curse, and the city, and the Goode's family prospered because of it, but it doesn't change the fact that the main villain is doing all of this so he could be sheriff? It's oversymplifying it, i know, but that's basically it, and it's boring Nick started being part of the curse in 1978, and he was quite obviously conflicted by it, what happened then? He suddenly started being okay with all the killings because he grew up? Uh... ok... Also why did he leave that note to Ziggy? They didn't speak for 16 years and he informs her about the curse happening again for what reason? Why Ziggy had alarms all over her house? I guess we will never know. Also about Ziggy, a rand in the rant: it was so damn stupid how they had her hesitate to help when shit was starting to go really bad, i don’t care that she ended up shooting Ruby and saving Josh but  i refuse to believe Ziggy Berman would suddenly stop figthing to end the curse and kill the man who she just learned was literally the reason why her life was miserable, the reason why her sister died, the one who had just tried to kill her???? Make it make sense. Honestly had they kept Nick like he was in 1987, conflicted but "having to do it anyway" it would have been so much better? Idk in 300 years no one in the Goode family thought about not killing people? What would have happened if one of the Goode's decided that he didn't want to do it? Would the curse revolt against the family? I just think there were so many way to explore this curse and how it worked but they ended up giving us the most basic, boring outcome ever. The whole Sarah Fier's legend going around the two towns was so much better then what we got??

To end on a good note i'll mention some of my favorite scenes from the movie, aka the ones that had me crying: when they found the children, it was chilling really (couldn't they let my berman's sisters be happy for once?) also Solomon being so scared seeing the consequences of what he did, so good? And ofc the hanging scene, honestly it was terrible in good way (or good in a terrible way?), Sarah's sacrifice had me in tears, and the burying too, there where many theories as to why her body wasn’t where it was supposed to be but this was so sweet :( 1666 just was a really nice movie overall, creepy, with a nice story and interesting characters, 1994 part 2 was just flat.

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch. 8 Creepypastas x Fem! reader

Sorry I've been gone for so long. My grandfather died a month ago and I wasn't in the right mindset to write. But I'm back and ill do my best. Thank you all for your patients. Anyway, enjoy<3

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As the week progressed, the girl found that it was the slightest bit easier to read through Masky's facade. Though that did not mean that she could thoroughly read him quite yet, she made it a challenge that eventually she would. Masky himself became lenient at first as to mind her injuries. But the moment she started to heal, it was all back to the ruthless nature of his work. Finally, when the week ended, she got informed that someone else was going to teach her. That person turned out to be Ben, the blond-headed boy that seemed too eager to meet her.

An early sensation lurked in the air the moment she woke up, groggily walking to the bathroom and taking a well-deserved shower. The feeling of all of the previous days' dirt and grime washing off her punctured flesh was refreshing. Her mind was finally clear, able to freely think and dwell on her current predicament without any outside interference. The hot water trickled down her naked body, soothing her as she thought of any way she could escape. But no matter how hard she thought, deep down she knew that the only way she could truly leave was to stay a little longer to devise a plausible plan.

Sadness overtook her body, hot tears streaming down her already wet face intertwining with the water droplets from the showerhead. She'd been able to withhold her tears for a while now, not wanting to give those bastards the satisfaction. But as her current position set in her mind once more, she couldn't hold it in. It was like a never-ending loop. After being rudely introduced and forced to spend a week being trained to the bone by two different killers, she had to repeat the process with another. It felt like her own personal hell.

Feeling the scalding hot water turn cold was an indicator that it was time to get ready. Not giving a damn if she was late. Stepping out of the shower with a huff, she looked at herself in the full-body mirror. Steam covered its surface from head to toe. Though, no matter how blurry, the rough outline of all the large scars, cuts and a few red bruises that littered her body were still very much visible. The feeling and texture of her once somewhat clear skin was now a distant memory in her mind. Slowly tracing all of the scars with the tip of the rugged fingers she winced when she made contact with a few of the most recent injuries.

Getting dressed in the same greyish jump-suit she has been washing and wearing for the last few days, she went to eat breakfast. But before leaving her bedroom she looked at the nightstand, there laid the old pocket watch he gave her. For some reason, he didn't want to take it when she offered it back. Shrugging her shoulders she put it in her right pocket and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, noticing that Masky must have left early. Not paying any mind to his disappearance she carried on with her day. Eating the meal she prepared for herself. Sitting there on the dining table, in total silence, patiently staring at the clock. Ben still hadn't arrived. He was already ten minutes late, to begin with, which was a significant tonal shift from Masky, who was extremely punctual and despised tardiness. After what felt like hours, a loud crash was heard that made the girl's ears perk up as she ran to the living room. Their laying spread eagle, on the front of the old television, was none other than Ben.

" What happened, how did you get in here?" The girl quickly said while helping him up. " Dammit, forgot how small the damn television was." He said under his breath, ignoring her previous question. Getting on his feet he brushed himself off giving the girl a better look. Unlike the other two men, he was significantly shorter, 162 to 165 cm or 5'4-5'5 feet tall. Medium length golden hair under a long green hat and sharp pointy elf-like ears. His pale white skin looked ceramic, almost like a doll's and thin lips with a button nose. He seemed considerably young, but she assumed that he most likely was about eighteen years of age. Though, what caught her attention were his round black eyes that had a speck of red in them that acted as pupils. He was dressed as an elf, with his bright green tunic, forest green pants and leather belt neatly tied around his waist that held a small satchel type bag.

Looking in her direction he flashed her a creepy smile that showed off his white teeth. The girl didn't know how to react to his sudden action, as she felt discomfort all around her body, shifting her weight awkwardly she chose to ask him again. " How the hell did you manage to get in here without me hearing you?" " Well, I did the same thing I'm gonna' be teaching you today. Sorcery or magic. Whatever word floats your boat." " Magic? As in witchcraft, like spells and potions?" " Yup. I mean I know Jack already told you this so I don't know why you're so shocked." He snickered, it sounded distorted. " Yeah, I remember but I didn't actually expect-not that I didn't think that it would be magic-it is just that this is all so strange, I can't believe it." " Believe it, cuz I'm gonna' be teaching ya some spells. Follow me now out the back door." He spoke loudly, shaking his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Walking swiftly to the kitchen towards the back door. The girl was visibly confused as she followed suit. Why did they have to go through the back door, it was all quite strange. Stepping out, she noticed the rather large, wooden table a few meters in front of them. Its surface is covered in all kinds of trinkets, herbs and plants. " What's all of this for?" She said, approaching the table. "I got Masky to set it up before he left, we're gonna be needing some of this stuff so I can show you the ropes and basically help you understand the basics of making potions. A skill you'd need for survival." He answered while picking up a bunch of the items off the table and stuffing them in the bag. " Oh, what do we have here?" He said excitedly under his breath " Is it Raskovnik? My god it is. I know what i'll be teaching you first now, don't I. '' He started with a laugh as he made his way towards the trees. " Where are we going now?" " To the brewery. Do you really think you will be making risky positions in front of the cabin? You humans are actually the dumbest creatures."

The girl's face scrunched up in annoyance but still kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to try and argue with these people. Biting down on her tongue she got drawn in by the scenery like most times she was out in the forest. Autom was soon approaching so the wind had started to pick up the past few days, it made the multicoloured leaves on the trees dance as it passed. It calmed her as it passed through her body. Taking in a large breath she smiled and carried on behind Ben. Dogging trees and branches as there was no pathway in this part of the forest.

" Did you get the plant?" Ben spoke up after a while, cutting the calm silence. " Sorry, what?" " Were you the one that got the Raskovnik?" He repeated the question louder. " Oh, well yeah. I got it a while back as a part of my training with Masky." She replied quickly walking to his side. " Figures. Maskys is the type to make others do his dirty work." He muttered bitterly. But the girl was still able to hear it. " So you have a bad relationship with him?" " You could say that. Most of us do. The scumbag." The air started to tense. " I guess you could call him that. But he's not always that bad, he has his moments I guess." " Not that bad? Tell me, how did you manage to get that big ass gash on your neck." He harshly replied, pointing his leather-gloved hand to her neck. She quickly covered it and looked to the side. Not responding. " As I said, he's an absolute scumbag." " Well if it isn't stepping over a boundary, mind telling me why he's so bad." " Well, to begin with, he's a sadistic prick that only cares for himself. He broke into my house and stole some of the VERY rear herbs that took me YEARS to collect. And worst of all, he's the dog of The Operator." His face darkened when he mentioned The Operator's name. " The Operator? Whos that?" The girl quickly asked, lowering her hand and looking at him with a confused look on her face. " He's one of the most powerful beings to even exist. The embodiment of evil." " So like the devil?" " No, he's not the devil, the devil is a different being, but he's still terrifying." " Why do they call him The Operator then?" " Well, like. I don't really know how to explain this to you but, imagine this forest being a very large city. Y’know how every city has a mayor or someone in charge that leads it. Well, that's what The Operator really is. The Operator isn't his real name but a nickname given to him."

With that they finally stepped into a small grass filled clearing where in the middle, was a very small cottage covered in vines, plants and flowers. The old wood that it was made of was held up the multitude of plants, securing it firmly. The half-rounded door was nicely placed in the front, a yellow brick pathway leading to it, with a square window to the side. They quickly approached the door, the girl's breath taken by the beauty. The inside itself was small, shelves were on every side of the walks, each holding a plethora of books, trinkets, herbs and plants. It was relatively messy but still easy to walk in. A cauldron was in the middle of the room with a desk stacked with papers, pens, and scrolls.

Placing the Rascovnik and emptying his bag on the desk, Ben looked at the girl. " So let's begin I guess." He said walking to the medium-sized cauldron. " What are we going to do exactly?" She quickly asked as her eyes followed him, as he walked around the cottage collecting different ingredients and placing them on the desk. " Well, you're not going to be doing anything, just taking notes." Tossing a notepad at her. " While I prepare something and explain the different things you'll need to know." " Yeah that's great but am I going to be quizzed the same way Masky quizzed me because I need to know what I should expect." She said frantically, firmly grasping the notepad to her chest. " Nah, you're not. I don't do quizzes or tests, I like doing things spontaneously y'know. And plus taking notes will help you understand things more, so just write down herb and spell names, important details and whatever else will help ya remember. K?" " Ok, I guess." Anxiety began to dwell in her mind, as she looked around. " Readdy?" He said walking in front of the cauldron, giving her a slightly crooked reassuring smile.

[draayder]

now that I’m home I can do @majimemegoro yakuza fic title thing and I’m gonna go oldest to newest, and MOST of these are rated E so heads up also this got super long sorry

Release - just the double meaning on release (as in getting out of jail) and release (as in busting a nut)

Kind of a Monster - nothing special here just monster Majima

Ticket to Ride - this is technically named after the board game about setting up train networks lmao, but is once again a horny and obvious double meaning on ride

Borrowed Time - nothing special

Doubled Dragon - like the beat ‘em up Double Dragon, but about Kiryu getting DP’d

Ouroboros - snake eating its own tail seemed close enough to 69ing for me

Monster Mash - yeah just the song Monster Mash, because two monsters are boning

Retreat - a follow-up to Release, I had the idea of keeping the Re- part and this is the double between retreat (as in a vacation out in the woods) and retreat (as in pulling away from each other)

Devil May Care - the worst title lmao, just a riff on devil may cry (the phrase not the game)

Okinawa Dreaming - I think this was vaguely like, California Dreamin’ but I actually don’t know that song at all and it just sounded nice. a lot of my titles are literally made as I’m uploading to ao3 lmao

Cross Your Heart and Hope to Die - I have a whole infodump on the title on the notes of my last chapter, but tl;dr I found an extended poem for the phrase that was a lot of breaking promises to save someone you love even if they hate you for it, as well as, ya know, stick a needle in my eye being Majima Relevant. one of the titles I thought the most about

Pretty Little Things - not really a reference to anything in particular, it just sounded nice 

Two for One Special - two dicks!

Bullet Drop - also one I explained before somewhat, bullet drop is the difference between where you aim a gun and where the bullet actually goes due to gravity and friction and all that, so basically unintended consequences of actions which was thematically relevant 

Beads on a String - just needed a name honestly 

Warming Up - it’s winter and it’s comfy and it’s literally a warm up for a fight lol

In The B(l)uff - ya know like. in the buff (naked) and bluff (bluffing). there’s not much else to say!

Majima and Kiryu play mahjong and touch dicks - well you see, it might not be obvious, but in this fic Majima and Kiryu play mahjong and touch dicks. I hope this helps. this is still the funniest fic to get kudos emails about because it catches me off guard every single time

Essence of Slappin’ ‘n’ Clappin’ - Saejima gets that bald head slapped and those cheeks clapped and it’s not my fault. it’s not my fault

The Line Between a Riot and an Orgy - my friend’s OC is Sarugasawa Ranjou and orgy is 乱交 (Rankou) and Saru's given name is 乱丈 (Ranjou) and they wanted a fic based on that and who am I to say no

Smoke Breaks - cause it’s little stuff I didn’t want to dedicate to a whole fic (which honestly I kind of wish I had thrown the Nishiki/Saejima stuff into its own fic cause I keep writing more of that lmao)

RGGPG 1: Epilogue - it’s the epilogue to the first TTRPG version of yakuza I ran with some friends. exactly what it says on the tin

Spellbound - another one I titled as I was uploading it lmao, it worked with the general idea of Okita chalking Ryoma being hot up to literal witchcraft 

The Devil He Knows - themes! preferring a shitty situation you’re familiar with rather than risking one that might be worse (but also might be better)! Saejima jumping right into jail again! Majima pushing people away! Neither of them wanting to make a move for fear of fucking their current situation up! also, Majima having the Hannya tattoo and demonfire dagger and such makes him somewhat the titular devil as well ,)

[thiswasinevitableid]

sea monster indruck nsfw? maybe including one of them masturbating while fantasizing about the other one and confessing all their dirty thoughts as they're actually having sex? scary protective monster is also always hot if you're down for that

Here you go! I wasn’t able to fit in everything, but this one was fun!

This is all the hangman's fault. 

Indrid could be pleasantly dead right now, not trapped in a gibbet on a clifftop, if the man had bothered to check his ropes ahead of time. But no, instead he failed to see the rats had been gnawing on them and the blasted noose snapped clean off the instant it took Indrids weight. To the villagers, this was a sign that Indrid was indeed a witch (and the son of a demon, a rare charge that drags his poor, deceased mother into this mess). To Indrid, it meant a new set of bruises and the worst possible death. 

They locked him in the gibbet, the Atlantic crashing in angry, grey waves far below them. The man on his right is dead, eyeballs already plucked out by an enterprising bird, and the man on his left is getting there. If his visions are accurate, Indrid has a good five days of suffering the elements, the wild-life, and his own hunger and thirst before he joins them. 

A lifetime of visions breeds resignation in the face of fate, so he closes his eyes, follows the futures of luckier men as a temporary escape. The screams of his neighbor rouse him with a start. Their source is wholly unexpected. 

Looming at the edge of the cliff is an immense monster. From his vantage point, Indrid spies the creatures’ lower body still submerged in the sea, making it well over a hundred feet tall. It’s skin is green, it’s fingers webbed, and it’s crowned by a frill of wave-shaped spikes. The face is humanoid, with green eyes and hair of black water and a squid-beak where a mouth should be. Strange tentacles appear and disappear along its torso, as if they have not made up their mind as to whether they wish to exist. 

The monster sighs, “Fuckin hate it when they leave their dead like this. Unsightly, and I ain’t sure it’s good for the seagulls to be eatin humans.”

“The dead and, ah, almost dead do not enjoy it much either.” 

Upon hearing Indrids voice, the creature peers into his cage, “Huh, guess you ain’t dead. Either of you.” He turns his eyes on the other condemned man, who starts screaming again, “why’d they stick you here?”

“Witchcraft, specifically foresight and dabbling in ‘black magic.’ Well, that and a failed hanging” He tilts his head to show the visitor the rope mark. 

“Damn, that looks like it hurts. Wonder if I can..” the tip of an immense claw extends towards him. There’s a crackle of power that makes his ears pop, and the monster pulls his hand back, “nope, fuck, was hopin it’d be a small enough thing to do.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The monster sighs, “Long story short, my kind ain’t able to interact in an, uh, altruistic fashion with humans unless they’re acolytes. Can’t even open that damn cage without gettin zapped. Never mind that some of us don’t even wanna be old gods or whatever the fuck, still ain’t allowed to help. Maybe if I get a real big stick..”

“How does one become an acolyte?” Indrid presses his face to the front of the cage.

“Uh, you gotta swear loyalty and servitude to me, specifically, and the ‘old gods’ in general, live in a place I set up for you, and do stuff when I need you to.”

“Very well, are there specific words of the oath or…”

“Whoah, hold up now” the creature raises his hands, “this shit is real bindin’, rather you not rush into it.”

“Given the alternative is death, a rush is rather necessary.”

“All I’m sayin is you might wanna think for more than two seconds before you agree! And there might be other ways for me to get you out.”

“Do..do you not want an acolyte?” Being rejected by a sea monster feels like a fitting end to his life. 

“Not really. It ain’t personal or anythin; I’m just now leanin into the whole god thing and I still ain’t all that comfortable with parts if it. Last thing I want is an acolyte who saw me as ‘not as bad as death.”

“And the last thing I want is to die of exposure, so we are at an impasse.”

The monster clicks his beak once, “Okay, here’s what I’ll do. You take until sunset to think over whether you wanna be stuck servin’ this” he gestures to himself, “for a long-ass time, and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well.” Indrid resigns himself to several more hours of misery as the creature sinks from view. He glances at the other prisoner, “what do you think? He seems very considerate for a sea monster and I for one would like to keep living.”

The man stares, babbles incoherently for a moment before shouting, “You, you conversed with a devil! You are a witch, just as they say!”

“He spoke to both of us.” Indrid blinks, puzzled. 

“I closed my ears to his lies, you offered yourself to his wickedness! Speak no more to me from your black tongue.”

“Hmmph” Indrid does his best to ignore the ongoing beration. He’s not sure the creature is a god, but then again the creature seems uncertain on the matter himself. Serving a maybe-god seems no worse than serving the king, a life among the depths no less tolerable than his small home in a town torn to pieces by accusations of witchcraft. 

After a time, the storm clouds fulfill their purpose, a downpour battering him from all angles. Then a shadow falls over his shut eyes, and no more rain touches him. 

“Seemed awful rude to leave you stuck in the rain while you thought things over.” The god explains, one massive hand shielding the human. 

“Many thanks. Ah, I do have one concern about being your acolyte. Would...would I have to hurt anyone?”

“Don’t think so. I ain’t fond of hurtin folks, and if someone did need to be hurt, seems real strange to make the tiny human do it.”

Indrid puts on his most hopeful, charming smile, “I am very cold, very hungry, and my whole being feels as though it’s been stomped on by a team of horses. Perhaps I could give my answer early?”

A chuckle, like bubbles in deep water, “Hard to say no to that face. Okay, you got a deal. I checked with Joe while I was gone, to make sure I knew the right thing to do if you said yes. I’m gonna say the oath, and you’re gonna repeat it.”

Indrid nods, makes his way laboriously through the incantation in a gurgling language he does not know. The god patiently guides him along, cracks open the cage when the last word is spoken. 

“Do I get to know your name? If it was one of those words, it will take me some time to master it.”

The monsters’ cheeks rise, suggesting a smile, “You can call me Duck. It’s a nickname. C’mon” he holds out his hand, “let’s get you outta the rain.”

“One moment.” Indrid moves to the other gibbet, undoing the lock, “you can get free if you wish. If anyone asks how, tell them it was the witch.” With that, he settles in Duck’s cupped palms, the skin smooth and cool to the touch. 

“Down we go.” Duck sinks. 

“Wait, how will I bre-” water fills his mouth, but only for a moment. A clear bubble forms around him, let’s him gulp in air as Duck dives further into the sea. More jarring than the spell is the sight of the monster unfurling behind him. He assumed Duck had legs, but instead his lower body is that of a sea-serpent, green with bronze rings and undulating in the dark waves. 

“Like what you see?”

“Yes” he wonders what touching that tail is like.

“Yeah, this is a real beautiful part of the sea. If you want, some time I can take you further out; some spectacular lookin creatures out there. Here we go, home sweet home.” They surface at the base of a much shorter cliff, Indrid woozy from the change in depth. Three cottages--one red, one gold, and one blue-- stare back at them from a grassy hill. 

“Let’s see if I can do this” Duck sets Indrid on the ground, closes his eyes, and hums. The world shudders and splits, and then a fourth, emerald green cottage sits alongside the others. 

“Ha! Pretty damn good for a first effort.” His frill flickers with silver light.

“It’s wonderful.”

“All yours. You get yourself settled, I'm gonna go find out from the others what else needs doin’ now that I got an acolyte.” He lowers himself so the two of them are roughly face to face, “see you soon, Indrid.”

--------------------------------------

The cottage holds more possessions than Indrid’s ever had in his life, including a large feather bed that he stretches his aching body across before falling asleep and dreaming of seaweed twining up his legs. 

Voices from the window rouse him some hours later. At the side of the red cottage sit three other humans, two of whom are at work in a vegetable garden. Indrid ventures down to introduce himself. 

“Hi!” One, a woman with golden hair, waves to him, “you must be Indrid. I’m Dani, this is Barclay” she points to the bearded man harvesting potatoes, then to a tattooed man polishing a pile of gold and silver jewelry, “and that’s Boyd.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. You are all acolytes as well?” His stomach rumbles and Barclay pauses his digging to slide him a basket containing bread and cheese.

“Help yourself, those are leftover from lunch. And yeah, we are. Or were, in Dani’s case.”

Even with foresight, Indrid is surprised when the woman says jokingly, “Got promoted to ‘wife’ a few months.”

“Congratulations.” It seems the appropriate thing to say, given her smile, “ah, what exactly do you all do for your gods? Duck is rather unclear on the details.”

“Some of it is spellwork. Beings like Duck have some innate power, but they can get more of it from an acolyte doing rituals or making offerings. Joseph, that’s my monster, Duck, and a few others aren’t sold on the idea that they’re meant to destroy humans, so they spend a lot of time keeping other monsters from doing just that. Our spellwork gives them an edge. Other than that, it really depends on who you’re working for; I spent a lot of my first month helping Joseph understand that hauling himself up onto a random dock to ask questions is not the best way to learn about humans. Boyd spends a lot of time maintaining Ned’s treasure.”

“Only because he bloody tricked me into workin for him. Just bidin my time until the deal runs out. You hear that Chicane!” Boyd yells towards the water, “don’t care how much you steal, I’ll get my share and run one of these days.”

To Indrid’s ear, the sea laughs in reply. Boyd grumbles and returns to his work. 

“He’s just annoyed because he and Ned thought they could outwit each other; Boyd was on a prison ship bound for Jamaica and Ned offered him an out. Apparently they spent hours haggling over the terms.” Dani leans closer, whispers, “Boyds left twice, comes back every time saying he’s bored without someone to challenge him.”

They talk a while longer, Dani promising to bring Indrid some hens and a goat from town, Boyd giving him some firewood, and Barclay explaining the network of sea caves in the surrounding hills. When there’s a knock at the door, he opens it expecting another human and jumps when this is not the case. 

“Evenin’” Duck smiles as he slithers into the house, “brought you a few more things.”

“You got smaller.” 

“Can change my size some, though this is about as small as I can get.” He’s still two heads taller than Indrid, who notes that the ceilings are just high enough to accommodate him, as if the god built the cottage with visits in mind. 

Duck sets a bucket of fresh oysters in the kitchen along with a large slab of butter, some milk, and some sugar, “Had one of my human friends bring me these. And, uh, I made you this” he holds up a cloak in the same colors as his tail. It fits Indrid snugly, shutting out the chilly air and making him feel rather grand indeed. 

“C’mere” Duck pats a kitchen chair, “lemme take care of your neck.”

Indrid sits, shudders when webbing and claws rub sticky balm into his skin. The gods hands easily encircle his neck, a realization that stirs heat deep in his stomach. Duck talks as he works, a meandering story about a shipwreck, and Indrid finds he enjoys his manner of speech. The initial discomfort of the touches subside, the balm washing the pain in his neck away like a wave erasing a message in the sand. Cool hands wrapped around his throat turn as comforting as the fire crackling in the stove. 

“That looks like it healed. Good” Duck’s beak fondly nips his ear, “gotta make sure my servant is in good condition.”

“Mmmm” Indrid bumps his chest with his head, hoping for more; tomorrow he’ll ask the others if it’s commonplace for an acolyte to lounge in the coils of their gods lap like a housecat. 

The beak touches his ear once more, biting it lightly with little kissing sounds.

“Huh'' two tentacles catch Indrid as he tips sideways, his body deciding that the earlier nap was not enough rest, “didn’t think you’d find that soothin. Did it by accident, it’s how my kind show affection.”

“S’very nice” Indrid mumbles, dimly aware of being carried. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Y’know, in case I need to reward you for somethin.” Duck lays him in bed, pulls a thick blanket over him, and bids him goodnight. Indrid is sound asleep before the door closes. 

------------------------------------

“Ngahka miskato--ah! Give that back” Indrid wrenches his spectacles free from hold of a far too inquisitive octopus. The creature squirts him with water, then disappears back into its pool. 

Each of the gods has a sea cave in which their acolytes perform their rituals. Since the processes involves ancient, dark magic, all manner of strange sea life makes its way to the caves. Some, like the octopus or the seals that bob in the distance or flop on the rocks to nap, are known to him. Others might be classified as indescribable horrors from the deep, though Indrid thinks they look like crustaceans with a few too many limbs or the offspring of an eel and devil fish. 

His oath to Duck allows him to read the spells, and his pronunciation is improving. Duck’s requests center on defense; letting himself take greater damage from an enemy, be better able to protect his friends, that sort of thing. Indrid even found a ritual that gives the god new cloaking abilities, which he’s used to make the cottages disappear on the hillside and thus keep curious townsfolk away.  He also found one that allows Duck to remain out of water for well over a day.

The Duck who visits him in the cave and the one who stops by his home may be radically different sizes, but his disposition is constant. He talks about the kelp forests and the animals, about his annoyance with his supposed destiny as “destroyer of all man.” He conjures fine clothes from seaweed, furniture from driftwood, and brings Indrid newly made grins embedded with fresh pearls. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one serving you?” Indrid will tease.

“Way I see it, we serve each other. Don’t care what that fuckin oath said.”

Indrid is feeding his hens one evening when his luck catches up with him; his human friends are all standing at the edge of Dani’s house, peering anxiously around it’s corner and down the hill. Joining them, he sees a crowd marching with torches and an assortment of lethal farm equipment. 

“What the fuck are they doing? You were just in town today and everything was fine” Barclay glances at Dani, who shrugs, worried.

“My visions tell me that as they get closer we will hear them yelling about witches and that I will recognize many of them. I suspect my fellow gibbet-occupant told them about Duck.” He sighs, “I’ll try to lead them on a chase, get them away from all of you.” 

Indrid runs into the evening before the others, or his own common sense, can stop him. Keeping to the cliffside, he lets them glimpse his hair and his red glasses, both used at the trial as proof of his wicked nature. His plan is to take a secret tunnel down into the caves, but his visions alert him a moment too late to the fact there are two, not one, groups of villagers. He’s outflanked on the cliff, holds up his hands to show he means no harm.

“I understand my continued existence alarms and confuses you, but that is no reason to go running about with weapons. Would you kindly leave me alone?”

“No, witch, we will not.” The head of the party shouts over the wind. 

“I have a name, you know.” He grumbles, looking behind him and wondering if his status as an acolyte grants him immunity from death by falling in the water. 

“You have already confessed to your black work, and we have on good authority you have made a pact with the devil. There is nowhere to run, and if you come quietly I promise we will hang you properly this time.”

“And if I do not?”

“We shall see to it that your body is scattered about this cliffside before the night is out.” The mob moves forward and Indrid stumbles back, the earth giving out beneath his feet. 

He lands with a yelp in a smooth, large hand. As Duck rises more fully from the waves, the crowd freezes, struck dumb with fear. 

“Y’all ain’t gonna touch him, y’hear? Indrid’s under my protection and in case it ain’t obvious, I could smoosh the whole damn bunch of you without breakin a sweat. So, what you’re gonna do is turn around and go back to your village, and I’ll forget this ever happened. If you come after him again, I’m gonna start taking out ships in your harbor. We clear?”

The panicked flight of the mod downhill suggests he’s made his point. 

Duck carries Indrid home, joining him in the cottage once he can fit through the door. The monster follows him upstairs, pulling him into his arms.

“Thought I was gonna lose you.”

“That makes two of us.” 

Duck nuzzles the top of his head, “You mind if I stay here tonight? Little worried some of them might get it into their heads to come back and hurt you.”

No futures show this, but Indrid nods all the same. Duck curls up near the bed, not leaving until the morning sun shines through the window. He does the same the next night, and the night after that, and soon it’s been two weeks of the god talking softly with Indrid as the human falls asleep. 

When Indrid shyly asks if Duck will join him, his monster lays as comfortably as he can on the right side of the bed. Indrid is now used to waking up with a tail looped around his leg or a tentacle clinging to his arm. 

------------------------------------

Indrid is just drifting off when the covers slide aside and weight slithers up the bed. He opens his eyes; Duck is on his side, facing him, annoyed. 

“What troubles you, my dark excellency?” Indrid nudges Ducks’ lower belly with his toes. He’s taken to calling Duck increasingly absurd things, and the monster calls him “faithful servant” or “esteemed attendant” in reply. 

Tonight, Duck just sighs, “Y’know how I was supposed to do somethin important tonight, bein’ that it’s the second full moon in the month? Turns out that somethin was, ‘spread my seed among the beds of men’ so our kind will gradually overrun the surface.” He clicks his beak with a snort, “don’t that sound fun?”

“No.”

“Smart little thing, ain’t you?” Duck teases, cups Indrid’s chin, “Yeah, I said no. Problem is, apparently a second full moon makes my whole body wanna fuck, which is why that prophecy was supposed to happen tonight.”

Indrid looks down, sees something rippling under the skin at the upper part of Duck’s tail. 

“I’m gonna try sleepin it off.”

His visions give him courage; Duck turns him down in most futures, but none of them end in death or bodily harm, which at his point in his life is all he asks. 

“Or you could, ah, allow me to help you.”

Green eyes blink, slow and calculating, “‘Drid, that ain’t part of your job.”

“No…” Indrid scoots across the sheets, tentatively runs his fingers up Duck’s side, “but that is not why I’m offering.”

“No?” The rest of his tail joins them on the bed, curving so it traps Indrid against him, “Then why are you offerin, sweet human of mine?”

“Because I, ah, I want, that is I would very much like to know you in that way, and I thought it was allowed based on the others, I apologize if it’s not, I did not mean to-” He freezes as Duck cups his face, nipping his ear and throat with a kissing noise.

“‘Drid?”

“Y-yes, my lord of the depths?” He’s breathless, drowning in Duck’s gaze. 

“Stop apologizin and take off your clothes.”

Indrid flails until nothing is between him and his monster. 

“Thats better” Duck’s voice deepens, washing over him like rough waves, “now, come serve your god.” He pats what Indrid thinks of as his waist, the point where his human qualities disappear entirely. 

“As you wish” Indrid tries for a coquettish smile as he straddles him, but it gives way to surprise as the slit in Ducks skin parts. 

“I was not expecting tentacles. Which, given the rest of you, was naive.”

“Not usin that future vision of yours to see what’s comin’?” The webbing of Duck’s fingers is like velvet as it caresses Indrid’s chest.

“It is difficult to focus on such things when you are here. You command my attention. You always have.”

Duck flicks his tongue across Indrid’s lower lip, “Now that kind of devotion I could get used to.”

“It is yours whenever you want it.”

A tentacle emerges from his side, petting Indrid’s face, “My Indrid. You been so good for me, so faithful and true. Letting me babble about seaweed and when my claws through that pretty hair. And you just keep gettin better.” 

“Please” Indrid rests his head against Duck’s chest, hugging him as best as his size will allow, “please teach me how to serve you this way too.”

“I can do that. You don’t gotta lift a finger.” Several of the tendrils that comprise his cock twine together to form a single appendage. The tentacle on his face gains a twin and the pair slide down to his ass, parting it.

Indrid’s thighs are uncooperative, struggle to get and keep him in the right position to sink down. He curses, reaches down to adjust only for a thicker tentacles to bind both wrists and yank them up above his head. 

“Uh uh, I said no finger-liftin and I meant it.”

Indrid moans, his cock filling as he discovers there’s no way to free himself. He expects Duck to guide him into place with his hands. The end of his tail encircles Indrid’s hips while his claws trace arcane shapes on his skin. 

“I, I did not know it was quite so dextrousOH, oh god.” The tip of that strange cock pushes in, pulsing little by little to stretch him open without pain. 

“Right here.” Duck nibbles his hair with that same kissing sound, “I got you. Take such good care of my faithful human.”

“Oh god” Indrid can’t come up with anything else to express the sensation of Duck sinking deeper into his body, of how safe he feels stretched out and stretched open in the monsters hold. He tips his head back with a cry as Duck bottoms out and his cock moves fluid and disjointed all at once. It’s pulsing, thrusting him full on each inward push, yet it’s individual tendrils curve and curl within him independent of the whole. 

“More, oh god, please, please never ever ever stop.”

 A fond chuckle, “That good huh? Maybe that prophecy was wrong. Maybe what I’m supposed to do is fuck you full and then drop you in town so you can spread the word of how good my dick is. Be my consort and prophet all in one. Get everyone clamorin for the chance for me to fuck them.”

“No” Indrid squirms, petulant, “you’re my master. Not theirs.”

A louder laugh this time, “You gonna take the amount of fuckin I was supposed to do to a whole town yourself?” A tendril curls around Indrid’s aching cock. 

“Yes” He wails, rolls his hips “you may have me as often as you please, I want you too, I’ll, I’ll be your faithful servant always.”

“You’re already somethin better; you’re my ‘Drid.” Duck twists the tendril and Indrid’s lost, his orgasm knocking breath from his chest and tears from his eyes as white spatters the green of Duck’s abdomen. 

“That’s it darlin, lookit you bein so good, cummin for your master. Think it’s time for you to make good on your promise to take whatever I give you.” The tail lifts Indrid up and down as Duck cums, the monster not so much as pausing before thrusting his hips harder, “fuuuck that’s good, my perfect servant, my ‘Drid, takin me so well.”

Indrid sobs as another burst of cum enters him and a strange feeling fills his chest; he’s buzzing with blindingly bright power. It’s coming from Duck, he knows this, and in the haze of his submissive state he understands the depth of his divinity.

“Duck” he whimpers as more tentacles twist around his limbs, the god losing himself in his pursuit of pleasure, filling Indrid until his belly twinges and his eyes fight to remain open. When the god groans out the humans name a final time, Indrid is so enveloped by him he wonders if they’ll ever fully disentangle. 

The monster carries him to the washroom, Indrid still squirming on his cock, and gently pulls him free to set him in the tub. A flick of his hand fills it with warm seawater.

“You okay?”

“I doubt I will be able to walk tomorrow.” Indrid smiles to show he relishes this fact.

“Guess I’ll be spendin tomorrow waitin on you.” Duck joins him in the tub, coiling protectively around him as he washes his chest and thighs.

“I thought I was the servant here?” Indrid cuddles closer, kissing Duck on the tip of his beak.

“Nah. Far as I’m concerned, we take care of each other.”

[duhragonball]

Disinterpretation

I finally finished the Sarah Z video about “pro vs. anti”.   It’s pretty long, and I ended up watching it in chunks over several days, but I think it’s worth watching, especially if you’re sort of partially connected to online fandom, but not enough to be aware of all the lingo. 

As I expected, the whole thing was vague and confusing because the people involved in the conflict made it vague and confusing.   In theory, the full terms would be “pro-shipping” and “anti-shipping”, but it seems like it’s more about particular kinds of ships that could be considered controversial.  But that’s a slippery slope, and apparently the whole conflict mutated into both sides deciding that every hypothetical relationship between fictional characters is either equally valid or equally dangerous.  

Long story short, it’s just purity culture, which was what everyone on Tumblr was calling it around 2012.  But now, if you’re a sane person who genuinely asks: “Who gives a fuck about Voltron?”, these people will jump your ass and accuse you of being on the side of their enemies.  “Children have died over the importance of Lotor/Hagger!   Your callous indifference proves that you yourself must have murdered children!” 

I think what Sarah Z really hit upon in this video was that media consumption has become so ingrained in our culture that people feel like it has to go hand-in-hand with our morality.   That is, it’s not enough for me to watch Star Trek, I have to justify Star Trek as evidence that I’m a good person.  Maybe this is where the expression “guilty pleasure” comes from.   Conversely, it’s not enough for me to not watch Dr. Who, I have to somehow convince everyone that Dr. Who was invented by the devil.

I’m pretty sure the Reylo ship has a lot to do with this, since it’s kind of understood to be a dark, problematic concept, and fans either embrace its flaws or recoil in horror because of them.   Star Wars itself is a dumb story about space wizards, so people try to give the debate more weight by linking it to freedom of self expression and/or enabling real world harm.   Suddenly it’s not enough to just think two actors would look cute making out instead of fighting.   Now it’s this battlefield for the soul of civilization or something.

I grew up in the 80′s, when “concerned parents” and grifters would accuse the Smurfs and metal bands of promoting satanism and witchcraft.   I used to hear stories of teens going out into the woods in the middle of the night to do occult stuff, and all I could ever think about was: “Why would anyone bother wandering out in the woods in the middle of the night?”  Which is why “concerned parents” turned their attention to things that were closer to home, like Saturday morning cartoons.   It had nothing to do with the content; it was just about finding a safe, accessible target for their hysteria.   Some people want to go on a crusade without leaving the house, so they pick a fight with Papa Smurf instead of confronting the real evils in the world.  Even as a kid, I knew this was a con, because I’d watched the show for myself and knew it was too saccharine to be threat to anyone.

The pro/anti folks have tried to disguise this with a lot of terminology.   I wondered why they seemed to reluctant to use the full terms “pro-shipper” and “anti-shipper”, and it’s probably a couple of things.   First, the word “shipper” is basically an admission that this is pointless bullshit that doesn’t matter, and they’d like to avoid that connotation.   Second, they seem to have decided that this goes beyond shipping itself, into practically anything else they want it to involve.  It’s all part of the con, which is to make you believe that it’s “us vs. them”, and you can be part of “us” by curating specific attitudes about Steven Universe.

Seriously, “about Steven Universe” is such an incredible punchline.  You can make anything funnier by adding those three words to the end of a sentence.   “Do not interact if you blog about Steven Universe.”   “Hey, what’s up, YouTube, this is SSJ3RyokoLover69, and this is going to be kind of a serious video about Steven Universe.”   “Mrs. Johnson, the results of your biopsy are in, and I have some bad news about Steven Universe.”   It’s a fucking kids show.   “Oh no, all the characters look like the characters in all the other kids shows!”   Yeah, that’s because it’s a kids show.   Marvin looks like Garfield, this isn’t new.

The common denominator here seems to be that both sides try to wrap themselves in the flag of vulnerable groups: impressionable minors, trauma survivors, harassment victims, etc.   The “pros” want to protect those people so that they can feel free to explore weird subject matter on their own terms, and the “antis” want to protect the same people from being exposed to weird subject matter that they might not want to see.   It’s all about establishing a moral high ground.   Back in the day, it was called “sanctimony”. 

But people get roped into this, because at their core, people want approval, and this stupid conflict offers them a sense of community.  As long as you support the cause, whatever it may be, you’ll have this online friend network that appears to support anything you do.   But if you deviate from their norm, you’ll be cast out.    Does this sound familiar?

To use a more familiar example, I still sometimes find people clamoring about Gochi vs. Vegebul.   I’ve never understood this, because both ships were canon, and I never saw much direct evidence of a war between them, but people would still talk about how crazy the Vegebul shippers were, and how crazy the Gochi shippers were, and it was like some huge thing going on just over the hills.   It’s the same idea, since the idea that you could like both or neither never seems to occur to anyone involved.   I never gave a shit, because I used to see the same dumb agendas in the Harry Potter fandom.

Okay, so let me take you back.  It’s 2005 through 2011, and I’m hateblogging all seven Harry Potter novels, because fuck you, that’s why.  The funny thing I encountered was that occasionally fans seemed to want to pretend like my bashing of certain characters was proving them right somehow.    They were like “See?  He hates Ron Weasley too!  That proves that Seamus Finnegan is the coolest guy ever.”   The Slytherin stans would do this all the time, because I would constantly take the piss out of the Gryffindor characters for being self-important dopes.   I think they just liked hearing it from an outside perspective.   But I had to keep reminding them all that I hated all of them.   Every character from Harry Potter sucks ass. Voldemort was my favorite, but only because he was the one guy who wanted to kill all of the others.   But he sucks too because he failed. 

And the shippers were the same way.   I’d say something shitty about Ron, because Ron sucks, and some smartass Joss Whedon fan would be like “Yes!  Boost the signal!  That is why Harry/Hermione is the best ship!”  And I’d be like “No, Harry and Hermione suck at least as bad as Ron does.  They’re all terrible and I hate them.”   I really do think there was some sort of Stockholm Syndrome going on with Harry Potter books, where everyone secretly knows they suck, but the fans sort of latch on to one or two characters and go like “Well, he’s not as shitty as the rest.”   Like finding spaghetti in the trash and picking out the meatball with the least amount of lint on it.   Then you’d go and start a flamewar with some other starving person over whether your meatball is shittier than theirs.  This is what people mean when they say to read another book. 

Anyway, the big thing I picked up from Sarah Z’s video is “disinterpretation”, a term coined by MSNBC columnis Zeeshan Aleem.   The Twitter thread is worth a read, but the short version is that he once remarked that a Julia Louis-Dreyfus routine wasn’t very good, and someone got mad at him for insinuating that women are incapable of being funny.    They just took his dissatisfaction with one performance by one comedian as being a universal condemnation of women comedians in general.  And this sort of thing is all over the internet.   Everyone sees what they want to see and then they take it as permission to overreact.  

I ran into this myself a while back, because someone saw who I interacted with on Twitter and decided that they’re all bad guys and if I have any interaction with them, then that makes me a bad guy too.   At the time I tried to play it cool, but the more I think about it, the more it ticks me off.   And over the course of that conversation, it was said that I don’t talk about myself much, and that’s kind of funny, because all I ever do on social media is write long-ass blog posts like this one.  I don’t expect anyone to memorize them, or even read them all the way through, but when I write all this stuff and someone goes out of their way to say they don’t know anything about me, the message is that they just didn’t pay attention to what I was saying, and they didn’t bother to try.

So I’m a little jaded from that, because I got called out for a bunch of stuff I didn’t even do or say, and apparently that’s just a thing that happens.   People will reject you for completely arbitrary reasons, not because of anything you actually said or did, and you’re left thinking you made some terrible mistake.   Except, no, I’ve seen it happen to other people, people a lore more conscientious than I am, and if they can’t satisfy the bullshit purity standards, then I never stood a chance.   If the game is rigged so I can’t win, then I’m not going to play.  

And it’s that same condition that probably draws people into these online holy wars, because if you declare yourself for the pro or anti side, at least then you’ll have a posse backing you up.   Only they don’t support you, they support your willingness to support them.    Once your commitment to their agenda wavers, even in the slightest, they will turn against you.   

Sarah Z suggests that both sides of the war drop the pro and anti terms, since they lost all meaning long ago.   But that just invites a new set of useless terms to perpetuate the same cycle.   Her more useful advice is for fandom people to broaden their horizons.   She got a lot of flak for tweeting “Go outside” once, but the ironic thing is that it’s sound advice.   I had lunch with my mom yesterday and it was just nice getting away from things for a while.   People need to do that more often, and unfortunately it feels like it’s harder to do than ever before.

But “go outside” isn’t just a literal thing.   It can mean going beyond your usual haunts, reading the same books, watching the same shows, rehashing the same conversations.   I think the reason this stuff always revolves around “shipping” is because there seems to be this deep-seated compulsion to pair fictional characters off like this, and for a lot of folks it’s the only way they can consume a story, so they do.   And they do it lot, and there’s a lot of them, and they do it the same way every time, and lo and behold the same old conflicts start up.   So maybe “go outside” should mean “go outside of that cycle once in a while.”   Just a thought. 

[carewyncromwell]

“It's just like déjà vu, me standin' here with you, So I'll be holdin' my own breath -- Could this be the end? Is it that moment when I find the one that I'll spend forever with?”

~“Gotta Be Somebody” by Nickelback

x~x~x~x

In 1941, the vampire called Bat Varney was murdered by the dark wizard Grindelwald for aiding the resistance movement organized by Ministries across Europe. Bat left behind many friends, including Danny Gibson @catohphm​​ and the Selwyn-Ellison family @that-ravenpuff-witch​​​​ -- but the person most devastated by Bat’s death was his most constant companion, Atticus “Grim” Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier​​​. Never in his life had the retired professor considered that he’d be the last one standing, out of the two of them -- and in his last days on earth, just before he died peacefully in his sleep at a ripe old age, all that he wished was that he might see his first true friend again. Little did Atticus know that -- in his last moments alive -- Bat had made a similar wish...praying that maybe he and his mate Grim could meet again someday, somewhere where Bat didn’t have to regulate how much or how long they touched...maybe even with his real face...as Robert.

About a decade after Professor Grimsley’s death, the only son of a well-respected Pureblood family started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and was Sorted into Ravenclaw house. The boy -- appropriately enough also named Atticus -- wasn’t particularly popular at school, given his hyper-focus on his academics and on satisfying the high standards of his father. Not only was Atticus expected to bring his family honor and esteem, but he also had a rival at Hogwarts who he was expected to “outdo.”

Bartholomew “Barty” Gilbert (pronounced “JO-behr”) was the only son of an up-and-coming Pureblood family who’d just emigrated from France and made a lot of money investing in robe shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade alike. He was also now a Gryffindor in Atticus’s year, and Atticus’s father was very firm that Atticus not let the boy surpass him in anything. Although Atticus normally obeyed his father with a certain degree of reluctance, in this case, he didn’t like the thought of losing to Barty Gilbert either. Not because the Gryffindor wasn’t pleasant -- no, in fact, he was almost too pleasant...too amiable, too inoffensive. And that made it so that even though Barty got away with doing whatever he wanted without worrying about his family’s expectations, it only served to earn him more friends and admirers. Even before that, though, when Atticus had met Barty in passing before school, he still couldn’t help but dislike the other boy. There was just something off about him -- something Atticus could hardly put into words. It was like whenever Barty opened his mouth, he sounded wrong -- whenever he smiled, it looked wrong...even his eyes weren’t as they should be. There was something almost familiar about Barty’s auburn hair, face, and height -- and yet something was wrong. And it just made Atticus upset for a reason he couldn’t really explain. It reminded him of those times, when he was a very small child, when his mother would try to comfort him after he woke up sobbing and could hardly explain why. Something about someone with red eyes squeezing his shoulders, tears streaming down his face and laughing like his heart was breaking...

So Atticus was determined to throw himself into his studies and do everything expected of him. Just because Gryffindor Golden Boy Barty Gilbert refused to do things the right way didn’t mean he shouldn’t -- and Atticus knew karma would eventually go his way in the end, if he put in the proper work. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still sometimes feel somewhat resentful every time Barty Gilbert waved to him in the hall, his two best friends at his side. One of them was the most popular girl in their year (of course), another Pureblood witch named Cecelia “Ceci” Crouch -- the other was one of Atticus’s own dormmates, a poor Muggle-born boy who in third year had become Ravenclaw’s Star Chaser named Robert Bellamy. Despite sleeping in the same dorm for five years, Atticus and Robert had really never talked -- Atticus was focused almost exclusively on his studies, of course, but even Robert seemed actively disinterested in talking to Atticus. Perhaps it was because of how much Atticus kept sticking his nose up at his best friend Barty -- perhaps it was because of how much of a stick-in-the-mud Atticus was -- or perhaps it was for a reason Robert couldn’t quite put into words, the same way Atticus couldn’t completely explain his instant dislike of Barty.

One day at the beginning of fifth year, however, Atticus and Robert were forced to engage with each other when Professor Binns inexplicably decided to actually assign a paired homework assignment. (A possible result of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore casually reminding the History of Magic professor of a similar assignment he’d assigned his OWL class back in the days when he was still alive.) Although Binns of course didn’t remember any of his students’ names, he nonetheless paired Robert with Atticus. Neither of the Ravenclaws was particularly pleased, but none of them was the type to actively argue or complain.

After class, Atticus approached Robert outside the History of Magic classroom. Robert told Barty to go on ahead to the Great Hall and that he’d catch up. Once Barty was gone, Atticus uncomfortably questioned Robert about when they could meet to work on their oral report on the Witch Hunts of the 14th century.

Robert frowned slightly, his well-toned arms crossing casually over his chest.

“Hogsmeade weekend starts tomorrow,” he said placidly. “You occupied then?”

Unlike the rest of his classmates, Robert wore his bronze-trimmed blue Quidditch robes over his disheveled uniform, instead of his usual black school robes. Atticus couldn’t help but wonder if Barty Gilbert’s buddy just liked to remind everyone that he was one of Ravenclaw’s Chasers.

Pushing this faintly condescending thought aside, Atticus shook his head. “No -- I’m available.”

“Good. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks and we can talk there.”

He turned on his heel as if to go. Atticus couldn’t help but sputter and he quickly rushed in front of the other Ravenclaw to stop him from walking away.

“What is there to talk about? We need to get started right away!”

Robert raised his eyebrows. “Tomorrow isn’t soon enough for you?”

“The project’s due on Monday,” said Atticus seriously. “We’ll need to spend a good deal of time at the library, if we want to be prepared -- ”

“No need,” said Robert with a shrug. “I already know everything we need to know.”

Atticus couldn’t keep himself from quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Oh really? Robert Bellamy, slacker jock who always dozes off in History of Magic, knows enough about the Witch Hunts of the 14th century to get us an O on our oral report? Somehow I doubt that.”

Amazingly Robert didn’t react with anger -- instead his black eyes turned very cool.

“The Witch Hunts really can’t be narrowed down to just the 14th century,” he said in a very level, matter-of-fact voice appropriate to a professor. “Not only did the ‘witch hysteria’ phenomenon last well into the 18th century, until the Age of Enlightenment, but there was a lot of set-up beforehand that laid the groundwork for it. Witchcraft, specifically black magic, was considered illegal even in ancient times -- the Romans considered it a capital offense. And of course one can’t ignore how early Christians demonized pagan beliefs by associating them with witchcraft, hence why images of the Devil came to embody traits associated with the nature god Pan. The Witch Hunts of the 14th century largely came about because a bunch of Muggles got their knickers in a twist about an increased interest in necromancy and herbal remedies among the poor, spurred on by the printing and circulation of older Islamic texts. The fact that many of those people who had the most use for those herbal remedies were women -- frequently mid-wives -- scared the church as well, of course, given the sexism of the time. And of course when bad things happen and there’s no explanation for it, people love to find a scapegoat. Add a text like the Malleus Malificarum that tells the terrified masses all of their problems are the fault of evil witches to the mix, and Incendio -- you’ve got yourself a bonfire.”

Atticus was completely sideswiped. He caught himself staring with his mouth open, and quickly closed it.

“That...well...”

He felt very sheepish. His ears burned -- his mother would’ve been scolding him if she were there, for jumping to conclusions like that.

“...That’s really impressive,” Atticus said self-consciously. “Forgive me, I...I was very rude, just then.”

He brushed a loose piece of his dark brown bangs out of his eyes.

“...How did you even know all that? I don’t recall Professor Binns ever saying -- ”

“I doubt he did,” said Robert. Once again he didn’t seem the least bit offended by what Atticus had said and was currently grinning cheekily. “I got my hands on the fifth year History of Magic syllabus from an older student before term started. I went to the Muggle library and borrowed a whole stack of books about the Witch Hunts so I could read them over the summer.”

Atticus blinked. “Muggle books? But -- but wouldn’t that information be incomplete?”

“In some ways, yes. But honestly, magical history isn’t much better that way -- it leaves plenty of stuff out.”

“I suppose it does -- but Professor Binns expects you to know what he teaches too. That’s why he does those lectures.”

“And puts the whole class to sleep,” said Robert with a snort of laughter.

“That’s beside the point,” said Atticus firmly. “It’s good that you studied the material so thoroughly -- very admirable, in fact -- but there is a right way to do things, and falling asleep in class when your professor’s trying to teach you will only make it harder for you to get top marks.”

Robert shrugged. “Guess I don’t see the need to regurgitate my professor’s lessons like a parrot. And how do you know I don’t already get top marks? I don’t remember you ever asking to see my grades.”

Atticus faltered. “Well -- it’s just -- I never see you study.”

“Probably because you never leave the library,” said Robert with a rather mischievous smile.

The words were an unpleasant barb in the corner of Atticus’s chest, and his eyes narrowed to hide the slight hurt he felt. Noticing the shift in the other boy’s expression, Robert immediately put down all trace of humor.

“Only joking,” he said defensively. “Crimey...you really are too grim for your own good...”

As soon as the sentence had left Robert’s mouth, there was a strange, silent ping that seemed to ripple through both young men’s ears. The word “grim” had hit Atticus in the heart stronger than anything else Robert had said. The young Pureblood had stiffened sharply, and his expression tensed further when he realized that Robert too seemed to have suddenly gone oddly pale.

Did...did the word affect him too? Did he also find it so strangely, frustratingly, achingly familiar? Why?

The two stared at each other, both looking incredibly disconcerted. Then Robert, stuffing a hand into his pocket, quickly strolled past Atticus.

“...I’d better go catch up with Barty,” he muttered. His voice sounded oddly calm to Atticus’s ears -- almost evasively so. “Is tomorrow at noon okay?”

Atticus glanced over his shoulder to look at Robert’s retreating back.

“...Yes,” he said quietly.

Robert didn’t turn back around.

“Three Broomsticks?”

“All right.”

“Good. ...Bring some books from the library, if you want. I’m sure Madame Pince will have some suggestions I haven’t read yet. Just don’t tell her we’ll be at the Three Broomsticks -- poor thing would probably throw a fit if we spilled butterbeer on her books...”

With that, the Ravenclaw Chaser departed down the hall without looking at Atticus again.

Atticus didn’t move from his spot in the hall for a while afterward, unable to completely shake the heavy, invisible weight that had settled down on top of his heart.

He’dd only ever felt such a strange, irrational kind of déjà vu around Barty Gilbert before, but this kind...this kind was different, somehow. The feeling that accompanied Barty Gilbert made Atticus feel irritated for no reason at all. This one accompanying Robert Bellamy...it was cold, and yet also so soft at the same time -- like the feeling one has when they hear a beautiful, sad song...or when they wake up sobbing from a dream where someone is squeezing their shoulders, while tears stream down their brokenly laughing face...

[spidernerdsblog]

Love Is The Biggest Spell : Chapter Five

A/N : Chapter five is here. This chapter should have been posted on Halloween lol but never mind. Hope you like this chapter. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Warlock Tom Holland x half mortal reader

Summary : Witches are forbidden to fall in love with mortals. But what if your long lost love returns to you as a mortal, can you defy your heart? Any spell any magic seems useless in front of the magic of love. Let’s join our lovers in their magical conquest beyond life and death as they fight for their love unravelling dark mysteries of the past along their way.

Warnings : mild language, witchy stuff.

Mini Playlist : Can't help falling in love with you

After you had your breakfast Tom drove you to college. You were walking to your classroom. 

"Y/N!" You heard the voice you despise the most right now call out to you. You didn't look back and quickened your pace. 

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N hey wait please." Cole ran to you grasping your wrist. 

"Leave my hand, Cole!" You yanked your hand away from him. 

"Y/N just listen to me for once I can explain." he pleaded. 

"What more do you have to explain, Cole? That you were making out with me but magically it turned out to be someone else."

"Yeah exactly." 

"Cole can you just stop now. I'm not going to judge your life choices but I hope you enjoyed sucking her mouth." 

"Y/N please you can't do this to me."

"Umm mate I think Y/N made it quite clear that she doesn't want to talk to you." Tom intervened. 

"Listen dude let's just not pretend that this isn't the best day of your life. So please stay out of this"

"Cole! You can’t talk to him like that.” 

"A guy showed you a little affection for one night and now he is the good guy. So typical of you Y/N." you were literally hurt by his words.

"You know what Cole? I was actually thinking of forgiving your not so sorry ass but now I'm so over that thought, we are done for good Cole!"

"C'mon Tom let's go." You stormed off dragging Tom with you by his wrist to the library. 

You slumped down on the seat as Tom took the opposite seat to you 

"I can't believe Cole would say that! I'm an attention seeker? Seriously?!" You seethed. 

"How did you guys even fall in love?" Tom asked out of courtesy though he had no interest in knowing that. 

"You know childhood best friends it was like we owed to date each other." you shrugged.

"Maybe we can do something to divert your attention?" 

"And what is that?" 

"Finish our assignment I guess that's still pending." 

"Seriously?" you gave a disinterested look. 

"What? That is much better than talking about your douchebag boyfriend, ex boyfriend" 

"Yeah maybe some witchy stuff can help keep me distracted." you walked to the shelves and pulled out some books and placed them on the desk with a loud thud. You picked up a book and were turning over some pages in a book and stumbled upon something as you frowned. 

"What’s Dark Baptism?" 

"Huh oh it's a sort of ceremony. The Dark Baptism is the most sacred, unholy sacrament the witches practiced for centuries. The oldest of their rites. A novice witch signs his or her name in the Book of the Beast, and gives the Dark Lord dominion over their soul and in exchange he gives them unlimited power and eternal youth." Tom explained. 

"Huh what’s the use of such powers if I have to give up my freedom of will?" you scoffed. 

"It’s the only one of several possible interpretations, see like all religions have symbolic gestures and demand sacrifices right?" 

"Signing the Book of the Beast is more like a pledge to abide by the devil's commandments." 

"But the Dark Lord aka Satan is the embodiment of evil." You state. Tom corrects you immediately. 

"As per texts he is the embodiment of free will and that he goes beyond the mere concepts of good and evil and the infernal punishment of the "False God"."

"So what about Hell?" you ask.

"If you accept the Dark Lord's gifts, then you won't die for a long time and Hell is for mortals. In exchange for their service and devotion, witches are exempt from the eternal flames of damnation." Tom explains. 

"That's some crazy ass bullshit." You laugh it off. 

"But you seem to have quite in-depth knowledge about these things. Do you happen to practice witchcraft in secret?" you narrowed your eyes. 

"Maybe, who knows" he shrugs." Why are you so invested in knowing all this?" he counter questioned you. 

"Nothing just general curiosity that's it." You shrug. 

"General curiosity or is it about the visions or nightmares whatever you have." Tom smirked.

"Who-who told you.." You stutter. 

"Jane told Harrison and he told me."

"Those are just some stupid dreams that's all."

"Or may be not, maybe you are a psychic or a witch "

“Ha ha very funny.”

"Okay leave all that." Tom cleared his throat. 

"Hey I know it would be really inappropriate for me to ask you. You know you can totally say no."

''Hey it's okay we are friends now c'mon spill it out." you held his hand reassuringly.

"Umm my mother seems to have liked you a lot the day you stopped by our house and wants me to invite you to our Halloween party. It's kind of a spooky themed business gala. "

"Your mother likes me or you?" you narrowed your eyes with a sly smirk.

"No I swear my mom told me to invite you." Tom flustered.

"Okay then tell your mom that I would love to go."

"Oh thanks." Tom’s eyes lit up like a child.

"And by the way if you want me to be your date just ask." You winked. 

"It's - it's nothing like that." he stuttered. 

"Relax anyways I'm single now." you giggled.

"So what are you divs doing?" Harrison dropped in between your conversation.

"Nothing just getting ready for my dark baptism." You chuckled though Harrison gave a mortified look as he exchanged glances with Tom. Who shook his head dismissively to let him know he hasn't said anything. 

“Uh okay..have you seen Jane anywhere?" 

"Why do you also need some attention?" You joked lazily placing a hand on Harrison's shoulder and instantly backed off with a light gasp. 

"You okay?" Harrison asked looking at your horrified expression.

"Yeah, yeah I'm-I’m  fine." you stammered blinking your eyes.

"I'll go and find Jane." You walked away huskily. 

…….........

Agatha and Zendaya visited a farm to purchase a black goat to be used for sacrifice during your dark baptism in the woods. 

"What is on your mind mother? A few days ago you wanted that half breed dead but now you are here arranging for her dark baptism. I don't understand any of this."

"Well you three failed in your task and I'm grateful to Satan for that this time because I recently found out she is the key to perform the spell by which our coven will gain infinite powers."

"What spell?"

"For now you don't need to know more than this. Just remember that girl needs to be protected."

…………..

It's 31st of October and you are officially 25. You were at the cafe as Jane came in all bubbly and chirpy.

“Happy Birthday babe!!!” Jane exclaimed, giving you a tight hug.

“Thank you babe.” Tom and Harrison dropped in after sometime.

“Isn’t it your birthday day? Why the hell are you working today?”. 

“Because it’s my birthday.”

"Well somebody has got the whole concept of birthday wrong." tom quipped.

“Here we brought something for you.” He placed a cake box on the table.

“Jane dear can you arrange this for us please.” Harrison asked her sweetly.

“Of Course will.”

“Seriously guys you didn’t have to do this.” Jane was quick to arrange the cake on a tray with some candles and placed it in front of you. You blow out the candles as they sing for you.

“Thank you so much guys.” your heart swelled in happiness.

“We would have loved to stay but we have another party to arrange so see you girls in the evening.” Harrison said.

“I'll pick you up at seven.” Tom informed you softly.

“Will be waiting.” You smiled. After they left you turned to Jane. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Yeah what?" 

"What do you know about Harrison? Apart from he's a sex God. His family and life." you snickered.

"Umm they are rich, business partners with the Hollands. Loves his mom and sister a lot. Why?" 

"Nothing, you are my best friend just don't want you to fall for the wrong guy. I finally learnt my lesson. Heh." You chuckled slowly. 

“Don’t worry babe if he does something bad I’ll give you the privilege of kicking his ass.” She laughed and went to the back of the shop. 

Now how will you tell her that when you touched him you had one of your stupid visions. You saw blood, pentacles, human skulls, it felt so inauspicious the darkness engulfing you. Your eyes went to the blown out birthday candles and you suddenly remembered about the night where the candle caught fire on it’s own. Then you recalled Tom saying that you may be psychic and you suddenly got the idea of testing the fact.

"This is all a hoax, I'm not psychic nor a witch. I was drunk and was seeing things." you said to yourself and took a deep breath.

"Well here goes to nothing." You focused on them but nothing happened. 

"Huh, definitely a hoax" you blew out your cheeks and turned to do your work. But when you turned around again to your surprise each and every candle was lit up magically. You exhaled deeply, frowning.

……………

Reaching home you went to your room and saw a big gift box kept on your bed. You took the lid off the box to find an expensive black dress with a note. 

Happy Birthday Y/N. Will be really happy if you wear this tonight.  Love T. H

You smiled and held out the dress in front of you admiring it in the full length mirror in your room, it was the most exquisite thing you have ever seen. The soft silky fabric with intricate lace work was literal work of art. You changed into the dress and decided to let your hair down for tonight with minimal jewelry and makeup. 

Meanwhile Tom and Harrison were getting ready in their finest tux for the gala and your baptism. 

"You really gifted her the wedding dress." 

"Well it's an important night for her she will be turning into a complete witch and hopefully her memories will come back after that." Tom said, fixing his cufflinks. 

"You ready son?" Nikki walked into his room. 

"Yes mother." Nikki could see in his eyes that something was bothering him. 

"Don't worry I talked to your father and I will be presenting your dear Y/N for her baptism." Tom's eyes lit up hearing the news. It's usually the mother who presents her child for the baptism but your mother will not be able to attend it so the whole thing of who will be presenting you was bugging him for a while. And hearing that his mother is going to do that relieved him. 

"Really mother! Thank you so much." 

"I’m really happy that you’re finally going to be happy in your life son." 

Tom was there to pick you up sharp at 7. You stepped out of your house as you saw him waiting for you leaning against his car. He couldn't take his eyes off you. You literally looked like an angel he thought.

"You look gorgeous, love."

"Thank you, you look surprisingly dapper too." 

"Thank you." 

"But you didn't have to buy me such an expensive dress. The whole night now I will be so self conscious of not ruining the dress."

"I will buy you a new one don't worry."

"Ha ha not happening again. Now let’s go"

He opened the door of the car for you as you sat inside the car. You reached his place in an hour and stepped out of the car holding his hand as he led you inside. 

You walked into the ballroom and your breath was caught at the grandeur. You’d never been in a space that made you feel so small–or so plain. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished it looked like an iced-over lake. And it wasn’t just the ballroom–the women sparkled like a box of jewels, shades of emerald and ruby and amethyst swirling before you, their low chatter accompanying wafts of rose and hyacinth and jasmine.

"Whoa dude am I supposed to be a part of this gala? I mean just look at all the people around." you gave out a nervous laugh.

"You were always supposed to be here Y/N."

You are immediately greeted by Jane and Harrison.

“Hey you made it!” Jane hugged you and your dress caught her eyes.

“Damn girl now that’s a one of a kind ball gown.” She giggled as you blushed.

“Only for the one of a kind girl.” Tom snickered.

You, Tom, Harrison and Jane then hit the dance floor, slow music playing.

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

You clasped on to his hand placing another hand on his shoulder blade as he did the same. You began moving back and forth waltzing around the ballroom. Spinning and circles and shuffling your feet to the slow, rhythmic music. It was paradise, but even more so when your eyes met.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can't help falling in love with you

His eyes were chocolate brown, which made your knees buckle and your lips quiver. He narrowed his eyes slightly and let out a small chuckle. Your dress was getting in the way and your heels were making you clumsy or you were actually clumsy around him. He noticed your discomfort and changed his stance making it easier for you to follow. His grip tightened on your hand giving it a comforting squeeze making your heart skip a beat.

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes

You swayed to the music, bodies so close, his hand still grasping yours. This was perfect as if time stood still, your gaze filled with burning desires as he looked down to your slightly parted lips. Tom was trying to get a read on you as you looked at you longingly. You could feel your cheeks burning and you knew you're blushing on the outside which only made his smile grow wider.

Some things are meant to be So take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you

He dropped your hand but before you could frown he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body even more closer. His kind, smiling face met yours as you felt his sweet, warm breath fanning your face. Your breath hitched all that brooding, pining and longing stares just for this magical moment. Out of instinct you tilted your face a little, closing your eyes. But instead Tom knelt down to your ear  and whispered.

“Parere mandatis meis.” You opened your eyes with a vacant gaze as if someone robbed you of your emotions and reasoning. You stood there like a living statue. 

"Y/N now listen to me carefully you are going to do whatever I say okay?" 

"Yes." You nodded in a mechanical fashion. Agatha walked towards you.

"Is she ready?" 

"Yes Lady Layman”

"Good then bring her to the altar." 

“Was the hypnosis necessary?”

“You got a better idea to make your non believer half witch willingly go through her baptism?” Agatha quipped.

“No” He answered lowly.

“Then bring her outside fast midnight is approaching, the blood moon will appear soon.” She ordered.

The party moves outside, where the moon is at its fullest and begins to turn red. With midnight approaching, everyone rushes off into the woods. Tom took you to a gate burning with blue flames, you pass through the blue flames unharmed and arrive at your baptism, where the Holland's, Osterfield's, Layman's, and many other important delegates are in attendance. 

"All this grandeur for a half breed's baptism, how pathetic is that?" Zendaya quipped, rolling her eyes. 

The priest assigned for your baptism arrived at the altar.

"Welcome daughter of Night" 

"Who presents this girl for unholy baptism?" He reckons.

"I do." Nikki states. 

"We are gathered here in these woods in the presence of our dark lord, with all the souls, the living and the dead, of our coven

the most unholy church of dark." He addresses. 

"Kneel child." You kneel in front of him in your trance. 

The priest smears blood over your forehead and read you your rights and demands your loyalty.

"There is no law beyond. Do what thou wilt." He states. 

"Our dark lord asks - 

" Would you like to be happy child, to be free?" 

"Free to love and to hate? To be what nature meant you to be, true to her laws and yourself only?" you stay numb Tom takes the initiation. 

"Say yes Y/N." 

"Yes, father." You say as you were told. 

"Do you believe in Lucifer, the archangel, who preferred the loss of Heaven to that of his pride?" 

"Yes, father." 

"In exchange for this belief, you shall be granted powers that will enable you to be of service to the dark lord." 

"Y/N Warren are you willing to forsake the path  of light and follow the path of night wherever it may lead you?" 

"I am" 

"And are you willing to place our dark lord above all others in your life, be it your loved ones, friends, family." you pause for a moment but under the hypnosis spell even if you wanted to but you couldn't make your own decisions. 

"I ...am" 

"Then it's time to sign his book." The weather started to deteriorate as strong winds started to blow and thunder rumbling at a distance could be heard. 

Meanwhile at your home your mother was turning restless with the sudden change in the weather she ran to your Aunt Rose's room. 

"Rose what's happening?"

"It's about time Martha." Rose says coldly. 

"What do you mean? Where is Y/N?" Martha panicked. 

"Don't worry she will be fine but for some people this is the beginning of their end"

"Mom what's happening?" Erica came running too. 

"Oh Erica you are here can you fetch me the ancestral calcified bowl." Erica did as she was told. 

"Martha give me the ashes of Amber." She handed over a bottle of ash as Rose poured it in the bowl. She lit the candles around the bowl with her magic and chanted. 

"Here and now 

I evoke the elemental force of Fire

the flames of creativity and passion

dancing source of heat, light and life. 

I seek the flowing forge within

I call you forth to burn away

All that impedes my highest vision

And to enact change in the world

Lightning and hearth

Hearth and forge

Fire, I call thee hence" 

Rose focused on the ashes in the bowl as flames erupted in it. 

"Y/N wake up, recognize your true self" 

“Phasmatos Incendia Ignis absumet Ignarious. Ignarious! Ignarious Ignalusa”

Meanwhile you were standing at the altar and an ancient book was kept open on the flat stone in front of you. The priest took a knife and made an incision on your hand as a drop of blood flowed down from the cut on the page. Tom was behind you as the priest signalled him to proceed; he took your hand with the pen to sign your name in the book. Just when you were about to sign the Dark Lord’s Book of the Beast with your blood, Rose's invocation ritual broke the hypnosis spell on you and you were snapped out of your trance. The fog that clouded your mind got lifted as you felt light headed. It took awhile for you to process what was happening around you. 

"You swear to obey without any question any order you may receive from tHe dark lord, or from any figure He placed in authority over you." 

"In signing you swear to give your mind, body, and soul unreservedly to the furtherance of the designs of our lord satan." The priest went on.

"No!!" You yanked your hand away from Tom's grasp. 

"What do you mean no child?" the priest frowned. 

"Who are you? Where the hell am I?!" You looked around in confusion. 

"Tom what's going on? Where's Jane?!" you look at him with panic stricken eyes. 

"Y/N,love, listen to me this is for your own good just complete the ritual" 

"Is this some kind of Halloween prank because it's not funny."

"You think you are sick with some neural disease that is why you can't feel warmth. Y/N don't you understand that you are not human." Tom tried to make you understand.

“Tom why are you so up to prove that I’m some sort of psychic?”

''You are a smart girl Y/N don't tell me the visions you get doesn't seem real? That you didn't light up a candle just by focusing your mind on it." agatha quipped.

"You are a half witch Y/N magic runs in your blood and to reach your full potential you have to submit to our Dark Lord" 

"Whatever I maybe there is another path for me. A third way. And even if there isn't, my name is Y/N Warren, and I will not sign it away!" you stated. 

"If you don't complete the ritual then you have to face the wrath of the dark lord." Agatha warned. 

"The only thing I'm gonna do is to get away from you jackass people."

The coven tries to stop you from escaping as everyone chanted in unison. 

“Crescere arbor” 

While you attempt to escape you become entangled in magical possessed vines which held you to your place.

"Why can't I move?" you struggled to free yourself. 

"You're not leaving unless and until you complete the ritual."

Suddenly the stone of your antique necklace starts glowing, emitting a reddish orange aura which just grew in intensity as time passed blinding your eyes. A sudden rage started to grow inside trying to burst out. 

Your body was shaking imminently as the blazing inferno coursing inside you was becoming too much for your body to handle. You forced your eyes open and a chill ran down the spines of everyone present for the ceremony. You irises appeared like burning coals of fire. 

They flashed with anger, a burning animosity growing in your amber orbs. Tom couldn't recognize you anymore you appeared to be a totally different person. 

Flares started erupting from your hands soon turning into flames ready to engulf anyone that came in your way. The flames spread to the magical vines holding you as they were burned into ashes setting you free. You gasped as you looked at your hands on fire. 

"What's happening?! What did you guys do to me?!" You panicked. 

"Y/N, love calm down. Just try to control it"

"I can't!!'' You growled 

"I can help, just let me help you Y/N" 

"No! Don't come near me." You warned with a hoarse voice. A ring of fire formed around you.

"Tom do something or she will burn down the whole forest." Harrison said in panic. 

''You've nothing to fear no one will do you any harm."

"Just calm down and everything will be fine. Close your eyes and focus, love"

You closed your eyes taking in measured breaths trying to calm yourself. It worked as the raging inside you dissipated. Your hands were no more on fire. 

"Suctus Incendia" everyone chanted in unison and the fire died down. 

You on the other hand felt weak and drained out as you collapsed on the ground unconscious. 

…………………………………………………………………..

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[fuckingthefictional]

Shelby’s stick together

A/N: requested by @shady80smusicsingercolor hope you enjoy, sorry it took so long- I’ve been super busy was college work! Xx

Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Sister! OC

Warnings: swearing, racist slur used in historical context, super fuckin long.

Olivia Shelby and Linda Shelby did not get on. Plain and simple.

They didn’t get on one bit.

Liv maintained that Linda had barged her way into the family and had forcibly changed Arthur into someone he quite simply was not.

Linda however maintained that Liv was just being bratty and selfish and that she was hogging her brothers all to herself and never wanted them to be happy.

Which was wildly untrue. After all Esme was Liv’s other sister in law and Olivia got on like a house on fire with her.

When they had first met they had only slightly clashed, it wasn’t a big deal.

Arthur strolled up the blackened streets of Small Heath, Linda grasped onto his arm out of what must’ve been fear or anxiety.

To Arthur however he owned the space, people feared him and this place was his home.

He had no issue with the workers or the fire fuelled factories, or the children running barefoot in the streets together- it was as normal as could be, even the whores that littered the corners didn’t cause him to bat an eye.

This was Small Heath. His safe haven.

Linda however was tense on his arm, her eyes shooting around frantically.

It was clear she was afraid of meeting the one and only Olivia Shelby.

Everyone else had been civil to Linda (for Arthur’s sake) but Olivia was another story.

Polly claimed that Olivia had the Gypsy blessing of judgement.

Or being able to tell what a person was truly like- or what their true thoughts were at first glance.

Making Olivia unpredictable in her reactions.

And that was where they first disagreed, The Shelby’s called this power a ‘gift’ or a ‘blessing’, Linda called it Witchcraft and blasphemy in the highest.

Unfortunately it didn’t take long for Arthur to locate where his youngest sibling was (thanks to Jeremiah)

She was down by the cut with Isaiah (which was unsurprising considering the two of them flirted back and forth continuously)

It wasn’t long before the eldest Shelby heard the giggles of Olivia, and the chattering of Isaiah.

“Now what are you two doing out here alone?” Arthur boomed teasingly, purposefully trying to frighten the teens.

“Shit!” Olivia jumped, tumbling backwards and landing with a splash in the river, “Arthur you fucker!”

Linda flinched at the language being used as the other boys laughed heartily and dragged Liv out of the murky depths.

“Liv, this is Linda.” Arthur gestured to the woman stood awkwardly on the bank, “My fiancé.”

Olivia took the woman in, she didn’t like the judgement that lay in her eyes. The slight frown that she tried to keep hidden suggested that she had negative ideas of Olivia already.

Liv was clear on one thing- she didn’t trust Linda one bit.

It was frustrating to Liv. She had always been feisty (courtesy of the Shelby genes and the Gypsy blood running through her veins) but when this ‘good Christian woman’ was around she couldn’t help but make snarky comments.

But that didn’t mean Linda couldn’t hit back with harsher, nastier comments.

The needle that broke the horses back occurred the day before- resulting in Olivia to purchase a train ticket to London to stay with Ada for a while.

She was desperate to get away. The comments coming from her sister in law were enough to beat her down day after day. Liv was certain that Tommy had noticed a difference in her, after all she was closest with him.

All Olivia did yesterday was glare slightly at her sister in law, and in return got a mouthful of insults from the devil blonde.

It hurt, it was embarrassing, and even worse it had hit a sore spot in her heart.

Because Linda had mentioned the Shelby’s mother- more specifically how Olivia was the cause of her own mothers death. How it was all her fault.

That one hit close to home.

And now here Liv was, sat on a train that was heading to London. A train that her family (minus Ada) had no idea she was on.

//

Tommy was stood at his sisters bedroom door, his fist pounded insistently at the slab of wood.

Every knock that he made were all answered by silence. It made him feel anxious- Liv always answered the door to him. Always.

“Liv?” He presses his ear against the door, “Liv let me in please?”

Tommy twisted the knob again, but the cool metal was still locked against the latch.

If there was one thing that Tommy prided himself on, it was being patient with his youngest sister.

Sure, he was protective of Ada and they got on- but they had never seen eye to eye on most things.

Olivia, however was Tommy’s soft spot. Ever since she was tiny, she’d been able to melt his heart. He’d learnt to be patient for Liv, and he’d continued to do so.

But considering Tommy had been knocking for a good 15 minutes to no response, his worry began to erode at his patience.

Weighing his options, Tommy quickly decided on attacking the door one last time...with a strong kick.

The door cracked and flew off the hinges, leaving splinters littered across the floor.

Only one thing was apparent to Tommy however, the room was empty.

The wardrobe was cleaned out and Liv’s one and only stuffed animal which she slept with was nowhere to be seen.

Tommy’s heart was thumping out of his chest painfully. Olivia wouldn’t just...leave.

Unless she felt as if she was a intruder in her own family or was being pushed away.

He felt his feet thump on the floor, a sign that Tommy was in fact walking away from the room. Moments later he found himself in the betting den.

Esme, Linda and Lizzie were sat at their desks chatting away- as John, Arthur and Polly were crowded around one of the many finance books out of Tommy’s office.

Nobody had seemingly noticed his presence- until he spoke loudly.

“Would anyone care to tell me why the fuck Olivia’s room’s fuckin’ empty and her shit‘s gone.”

Everyone’s head turned sharply at this. Esme, John, Arthur and Polly paced forward- clamouring in confusion and fear.

The only person who was sat still and unbothered was the small figured blonde who perched on her chair, a smug expression painting her lips.

//

Kings cross station was always busy- it didn’t matter what time you arrived. It was always crowded.

So it was a blessing in disguise that Olivia Shelby was short in stature and could slip through small gaps in the crowds.

Liv didn’t have a plan if she was being honest. She had enough money for a taxi- maybe a hotel room if Ada wasn’t home.

With these new thoughts in her mind, Liv picked up her pace and rushed to the street outside.

It may have been just past 11 o’clock in the morning, when the taxi dropped her off at the street corner where Ada’s home was located.

Olivia, tired and mentally drained, ambled to the front door. She rung the doorbell, waiting as she heard the excited screeches coming from Karl on the other side.

Seconds later, Ada’s face appeared as the door swung open- immediately Liv embraced her older sister, trying to find some comfort.

She was upset and just wanted some peace and time away from the hurtful comments.

When evening fell and the sun crept beyond the horizon, Olivia was awoken from her slumber by the sound of the front door being opened and heavy, rushed footfalls running up the stairs.

Liv could feel her heart rate spike in fear, as she hid under the covers like a young child.

“Livvy?”

It was Tommy, immediately she came out from the linen sheets, and stared at her brother who came forward and embraced her in a tight hug.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he mumbled into her shoulder, “I thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I’m okay.” Liv whispered back, although it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as she spoke.

Tommy broke the embrace, as he cupped her face in his hands- searching her eyes for truth.

The moment she looked into her older brothers calculating gaze, Liv just found herself breaking down into floods of tears.

The older man perched on his little sisters temporary bed, scooping her up like she weighed nothing and cradling her in his lap- like he did when Liv was little.

Tommy continued to rock his sister comfortingly, it pained him to see someone he loved so much this upset.

Finally the question arose, “Livvy, What’s got you in such a state?” He asked unsure of the response he’d get.

Olivia took a deep, shuddering breath before responding, “Linda, we’ve been arguing for a few months now. I don’t trust her and she doesn’t respect me. I hit her with snarky comments and she hits me back with ones that hurt twice as much.”

Tommy nodded along, it was obvious the two girls didn’t get on. But Olivia just grit her teeth and bared it for Arthur’s sake.

“And for months she’s been saying this horrible stuff, ‘you’re ugly’, ‘you have witches teeth’, ‘freckles make you look like you’re permanently ill’, ‘it’s not surprising that the only boy who’s attracted to you is a negro’, and then yesterday she told me it was my fault that Mother died- that I killed her.” Olivia cried, tears breaking again, “And I hate myself Tommy, I’m unlovable- it should have been me that died not Mum.”

“No.” Tommy said firmly, “Don’t you ever say that- never say it again. You are my little sister, my little gypsy princess.” He stared at his young sister, “You are kind, brave, smart, loving and beautiful an’ Isaiah is lucky to have someone like you to love.”

At this point Olivia had tucked herself into the crook of his neck, almost as if she was hiding from the truthfulness in his words.

“An’ most importantly, you were not the cause of our Mothers death. You and Finn had no part to play- she was sick Liv, if she hadn’t of died when you were born then she would’ve died a day later.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you Tom.” Liv said in a apologetic tone, “And making you drive to London in a panic.”

“I’d do anything for you Livvy, you know that,” Tommy replied, hugging her tighter and kissing her forehead, “You’re a Shelby- and if that’s not enough for Linda then she can kiss goodbye to our family and Y’know why?”

Olivia smiled, “Because us Shelby’s stick together.”

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 16) (first half)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

A/N: So I had to split this chapter into two posts because it was so long it exceed the text limit lmao but I'm not making it two separate chapters because it would mess up the chapter numbers. I'm posting the next half right after this, so don't worry 😉

Warnings: cursing, angst

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She spent the day relaxing and ended up having a long soak in the bath. She put a few drops of lavender and ylang-ylang oil in for good measure. Her body was sore from everything recently and she was enjoying the moment of peace. She wondered how essential oils affected Matt. They had numerous effects on normal people, lavender being calming and ylang-ylang causing an aphrodisiac effect. She wondered if it affected Matt stronger than normal. Maybe that would be his downfall. A bunch of lavender to knock out Daredevil. The thought made her chuckle. 

After a long well deserved soak, she washed her hair and even conditioned it for good measure. With the weather getting warmer and all the physical activity she'd been doing recently, her waves were getting dry and frizzy. Once she was done, she got dried and dressed in her pyjamas for now. Leaving her hair down to dry naturally. She wouldn't bother getting ready until Karen was here to help her. She was actually a little excited about having a girl come over. Brett had been her only friend for the longest time and that was only in a work context. Then there was Foggy. But it wasn't the same as having a girl friend and she'd forgotten what that felt like. The closest being when her sister was close by. She was looking forward to the change of pace.

Hours later, Karen turned up. She looked pretty in a dark green swing dress, her hair slightly curled and pinned to one side. Daphne could see why Foggy was smitten with her. They'd gotten along better than she expected, chatting up a storm, even if some of it was lies on her behalf since she wasn't really going on a date.

"Oh! I love this one. Try this one on!" Karen gushed, pulling out a black dress from the closet. It was on the shorter side and was the kind of dress that clung to her in all the right places. The top part was lacey, like a bralette, the pattern intricate enough that she could get away with it without a bra. Then it turned into a black smooth cotton with the same black lace overlaid on top of it. It was one of her favourites if she was honest. It cinched in her small waist and made her ass and boobs look fantastic.  

After getting herself inside of it, she looked in the mirror. Her hair and make-up hadn't been done yet but she forgot how good she looked in this one.

"Damn. I'd never pull something like that off," Karen grinned from beside her at the mirror. She wasn't wrong. It wasn't the look so much as the vibe it gave off. Karen suited better to prettier things and that wasn't a bad thing.

"I think you look beautiful. Foggy's gonna fall head over heels when he sees you," Daphne smiled warmly as she turned to look at her. Karen blushed heavily and it only made her smile more how much she was clearly into Foggy.

"Thanks. What about Matt though? Like you said, he might not be able to see but he just senses these things. His jaw's gonna fall to the floor like in a cartoon," Karen giggled. Daphne bit her lip with a smirk. She sat down and allowed Karen to mess with her hair as she did her own makeup. She was handy with the stuff when she needed to be but she didn't really like how it felt on her face. She opted to forgo foundation which was the devil in her opinion and instead just framed her eyes with a more natural light smokey eye, winged liner and tonnes of mascara. She then painted her lips with a matte brown colour. She finished the look with one of her silver necklaces. It was a choker style necklace but delicate looking. The thin silver chain wrapped around her neck and had a little crescent moon charm dangling off it.

"I keep wanting to try these ones. I hate when my lipstick just vanishes when I eat or drink," Karen mused as she looked through the make up bag, holding up one of the same types of liquid lipsticks Daphne had put on herself. 

"You should try one," she suggested. Karen looked excited, sitting down on the bed next to her and looking in the small mirror they'd propped up against the headboard. 

It gave Daphne a moment to admire her hair. Karen had complemented her hair immensely to the point it made her blush. She’d always thought of her hair as more of a nuisance because she couldn't be bothered to do anything with it. Karen wanted to keep it mostly down, saying she was in love with the purple waves. She’d pinned half of it up in some intricate twists that to Daphne honestly seemed like witchcraft to achieve. It looked good though. Some waves framing her face and the twists at the crown of her head. The rest of her hair cascaded past her shoulders. 

"What do you think?" Karen asked, her voice filled with uncertainty. Daphne glanced at her, smiling with a nod. Karen had picked a deep pink colour that complemented her skin tone and her dress.

"I love it! You should keep that one. It doesn't suit me at all but it looks really good on you," she urged. Karen blinked at her for a moment before smiling shyly, tucking it away in her purse. 

They both took a moment to admire themselves in the bigger mirror before they grabbed their purses and left. Daphne felt weird walking in heels again. She typically opted for wedges in situations like these because at least she could walk fine in those. Her black simple wedges made her dress stand out more and Karen had to spend five minutes convincing her to leave her hoodie behind and wear her fitted leather jacket instead. She knew her hoodie ruined the look but the comfort it brought her had her whining as Karen pulled her out of the door. 

They took a cab, neither of them wanting to walk in heels to the restaurant and get blisters. They sat in the back and Karen pulled out her phone.

"Oh no. We're ten minutes late," she muttered fretfully. 

"Fashionably late," Daphne smirked, causing the blonde to giggle a little. She could really tell that Karen was excited for this and she felt less bad about lying if it meant being the catalyst for her and Foggy to finally take this step forward. She was excited herself but for very different reasons. She couldn't wait for the food and drink and to try and see how much she could push Matt when he had to behave like this. She wouldn't go too far, not wanting him to ruin the date for the two people actually on a real one.

When the cab pulled up outside of EnchiNada, Daphne pulled some notes from her purse and paid the driver before Karen had the chance. Karen gave her a look but she ignored it. She did just get a huge deposit from her new wealthy client after all. She brought the money not knowing if Foggy would even have enough to pay for all her drinks. She wasn't sure if Matt would throw a tantrum and ruin it since he was so unpredictable, and she'd feel bad if she caused him to ruin the night. If it was genuinely her fault then she'd happily pay for all of them as a way of saying sorry to Foggy. She just hoped Matt wasn't a dick, even when she annoyed him on purpose. He deserved it after how he'd been acting lately. She could have paid for her own meal anyway but Foggy roped her into this and if it went well then she expected that payment. 

They stepped out and Daphne glanced at Karen. She looked ridiculously nervous and it made her smile. Foggy and Karen would be adorable together. 

"Ready?" She asked softly. Karen looked at her and nodded stiffly, allowing Daphne to link her arm with hers. Daphne hoped it helped ease her anxiety a little.

"How aren't you nervous right now?" She whispered, panicked as they walked through the entrance.

"It's the dress," Daphne smirked playfully. Karen giggled and glanced around before quirking a brow at her.

"You're not kidding. I think every guy just stopped to stare at you," she muttered with a light laugh. She was catching a lot of eyes.

Her own green orbs swept the restaurant and landed on the two people she was looking for sat near the back. Matt was already looking in their direction and she saw him say something to Foggy who then also looked over before looking ready to pass out from nerves. Foggy was wearing a white shirt and no doubt dress pants, his hair combed back a bit. Matt was wearing a black button down shirt with no tie like he would in his lawyer mode. The top buttons were undone and his sleeves rolled up a little. His glasses weren't on but she presumed they'd be close by and she could see his cane resting on the table. He cleaned up nicely honestly. She wasn't surprised.

The restaurant itself was beautiful. It was dimly lit and there were fairy lights strung all around the walls. Numerous pieces of Mexican art but not too much. The ambience was nice and chill with some Mexican music playing very quietly in the background. It was packed full of people, chatting and eating and having a good time. 

"There they are," Daphne whispered, gesturing to where the boys were. Karen took a shaky breath as they walked arm in arm to the table. 

"Ladies! I didn't expect you to come together, and late too. I mean just a little. I'm not complaining," Foggy rambled nervously as he stood to greet them, Matt standing too to be polite.

"We had some girl time and got ready together," Karen replied shyly. Foggy reached out and gave Daphne a hug and Karen and Matt exchanged a quick hug. 

"You look… I mean… wow," Foggy mumbled and shyly kissed Karen on the cheek. Daphne was too busy watching the cutest couple in the world with a dopey smile on her face and jumped a little when she felt Matts lips on her own cheek. She should have known since they were on a ‘date’. It needed to look real. 

"You look breathtaking," he whispered, his voice low and making her belly clench. She moved away and looked up at him, his eyes unfocused on her face as his lips quirked up in a sly smirk. So he planned on pushing her buttons too. Game on. She was aware of Karen glancing at them curiously.

"You don't look too bad yourself," she smiled up at him, running her hand up his chest. She felt him tense and watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. He lowered his head, pulling her seat out for her. She smirked to herself as she sat and noticed Foggy practically mimicking his best friend, watching what he was doing before he pulled out Karen's chair. It was like watching a little brother copy his older brother. It was cute. 

While they waited for the server to come by with the menu, she glanced at the couple sitting opposite her and Matt. They both seemed really nervous and clearly didn't know how to break the ice. It wasn't like they never spent time with each other; they were friends. But the prospect of the date seemed to have them both acting like they'd never met. She decided to help out. Familiar ground to help them ease back into being around each other, even if it was a different context.

"So Karen, what's it like working for these two? Honestly, I'd tear my hair out," she snorted with a warm smile. Karen looked relieved, tension leaving her shoulders and Daphne was pretty sure she knew what she was doing because she shot her a grateful look.

"It's good. I really love it there. Sometimes I wanna smack their heads together, but it's fun," she grinned.

"Yeah but, not me right? I mean smack Matt's head all day long, I get it, but not mine," Foggy huffed playfully. Karen laughed, tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Does that mean I get to smack your head? I think I'd really enjoy that," Matt smirked. Just as she hoped it set them into some easy small talk and then the server popped up and placed the menus on the table. 

Daphne looked at them and frowned, not even thinking when she looked up at the young man serving them with a raised brow.

"Do you have one in braille?" She asked carefully. The server looked to Matt then and looked somewhat bashful.

"We don't, I'm sorry," he muttered. Foggy looked like he was about to open his mouth and he had a grumpy look on his face. Daphne was anticipating one of his rants about establishments and how they don't care about blind people, he'd done it before when swapping life stories with her. She didn't want him to ruin the mood of the date.

"You know what? It's fine. I can read it to him," she shot the waiter a smile and he nodded before scurrying off. 

"I swear, one of these days-" Foggy started grumbling, getting promptly cut off by Daphne. 

"Hey, it just gives me an excuse to kick up the romance, right?" She asked him pointedly. Trying to give him a huge hint. Realization dawned on his face then and he nodded, glancing at Karen with a sheepish smile. 

"I can read it to you too… if you wanted?" Karen asked Foggy shyly. He looked flustered for a moment before grinning with a nod. These two, seriously. 

She scooted her chair closer to Matt who had been silent through the whole thing. He was probably used to it all by now. 

"Ready?" She asked softly. She wasn't going to be an asshole with this part. He couldn't actually read the menu, she wasn't that much of a bitch. 

"Yeah… thanks," he murmured in response. She picked up the menu before listing off what they had, keeping her voice quiet as the other couple did the same. Once again, the pair seemed to follow their example, bringing their chairs closer together. It was quite intimate and it was sweet. 

"I think I'm gonna have the enchiladas. They sound so good," Daphne mused when she’d read it all out. 

"I think that sounds good for me too," he replied. He seemed high strung tonight for some reason, she kept seeing him do his head tilt thing and clench his fists. Something was annoying him and she hadn't even started yet. He moved away from her a little as she set the menus down and the server came over and took their orders.

"And for drinks?" The guy asked politely.

"Uh… just a beer for me," Foggy requested. 

"And me," Matt said with a nod.

"A bottle of tequila sounds good," Daphne said, shooting a sly smirk at Foggy when he looked at her shocked. Didn't expect that did you? 

"Oh, I've never tried tequila before," Karen mused.

"Share it with me. It's so good," Daphne grinned. Karen nodded as the man wrote their order down.

"I see you're a woman with exceptional taste," he commented casually with a glance at Daphne.  Matt sat up straighter and cleared his throat causing the waiter to look back down before leaving to place their order. 

"Wow, it really is the dress," Karen giggled to her, making her snort. 

"What does it look like?" Matt piped up, looking for all intents and purposes like a curious blind man even though she knew better. 

"Well it's-" Daphne started, her mouth clamping shut when he held up a hand and shook his head. He turned his head to the couple across the table. 

"I'd like to hear it from them. We all know how modest you are, Daphne, I want to know what it really looks like," he flashed her a sly grin and she had no idea what he was doing but she rolled with it. At Matt's expectant gaze, Foggy's mouth floundered.

"I… uh… Karen?" He asked, shooting her a pleading look. Maybe he was scared of saying anything nice when he was on a date with someone else. It was hilarious. Karen snorted and shook her head at him, glancing back to Daphne and then Matt.

"It's a black. The top part is lace. It's a really pretty design on it. Then the rest is a black lace overlaying black fabric. She's got a great body so it clings her to her in all the right places," Karen shot her a cheeky grin and she hated that she blushed from it. Karen was obviously trying to butter up her 'date' for her. If only she knew.

"It sounds beautiful," Matt murmured, glancing back at her still playing his little act. 

She decided to play his game and gently took one of his hands.

"Here, you can feel it," she smiled, fluttering her lashes at him even though he couldn't see. Her hand was holding his and she rested it on her collar bone where the lace tapered off into a strap. His finger trailed along and upwards, not about to touch her breasts in front of everyone, and trailed down the back where it was much safer to do so. His touch was feather light and touched her skin as they slid down the strap. She felt her stomach clench as he did it, rousing goosebumps on her skin. A quick side glance caught a devilish smirk on his face, he was doing it on purpose. His fingers trailed further and came to more lace and his hand continued to where it turned into the rest of the dress.

"Okay, Jeez, no heavy petting at the table," Foggy whined. Matt moved his hand with a chuckle as Karen burst out laughing at his outburst.

"Hey, man. I'm blind. I see with these," Matt smirked, wiggling his fingers and making his friend groan in annoyance. Karen seemed to find the whole thing amusing though. Daphne was feeling a little flustered and was more than happy when the drinks were put down. The bottle of tequila was set in the middle with four shot glasses. Of course they'd presume it was for all of them. She guessed she didn't mind sharing some of it. The boys had their beers placed in front of them too.

"Yes!" Daphne grinned, swiping the bottle greedily before starting to pour four shots. She set them out in front of them all.

"Drink up," she smirked.

"I don't think that's a good-" Matt started, she shot him a look.

"Really? You wanna be the Debbie downer of this party, Matthew?" She asked with a sigh. 

"Yeah, Matt. Come onnnn," Foggy pleaded. 

"It'll be fun," Karen grinned in a sing-song voice. 

"I hope you know this is peer pressure," he relented, grabbing the shot glass. 

"To double dates!" Foggy grinned. Daphne almost laughed. They all slammed their shots down and Foggy made a ridiculous noise with shudder.

"Don't be such a baby," Daphne laughed at him.

"Wow that was strong," Karen murmured.

"That's why it's my favourite. One time I got so drunk off this stuff, I woke up on a fishing boat," she snorted, licking her lower lip. Karen and Foggy burst out laughing as Matt looked at her incredulously.

"How?" Was all he managed to get out.

"Honestly no idea. One minute I'm drinking and the next I wake up on a boat full of old dudes that don't speak a lick of English. They were good to me though. Fed me some instant noodles before sending on my way," she grinned at the memory, pouring herself another shot. 

"That's insane! How old were you?" Karen asked curiously. 

"Around 19. My parents chewed me out so bad for that because I missed college," she rolled her eyes, settling back in her chair. She’d only had one shot but the warmth bloomed in her chest and she enjoyed it.

"College? You never told me you went to college," Foggy complained. He sounded so offended and she laughed. Karen gave him a grin, shaking her head at him. 

"Well I mean, I dropped out so it didn't feel worth mentioning," she shrugged. 

"Foggy's gonna cry about this for a week now. He loves to know every little bit of his friends' lives," Matt teased with a grin. Foggy flipped him off making the girls giggle.

"What did you study?" Karen asked. She genuinely sounded interested and Daphne shifted in her seat a little.

"Photography," she explained.

"Of course!" Foggy said dramatically.

"That's where it all started, huh?" Matt asked with a smirk.

"I bet you were a real wild child. I bet the tequila story is nothing for you," Karen grinned at her.

"Are you telling me you never rebelled at all?" She quipped back playfully.

"I guess I did," Karen replied. She was smiling but there was an inflection in her voice. There was something there Karen didn't want to talk about so she decided not to press.

"You heard this, Matt. We scored a couple of bad girls. What kind of lawyers are we?" Foggy asked, acting disappointed in himself. Matt barked a laugh and she giggled when Karen slapped Foggy's arm.

"Right, I bet you two were little angels in college," Karen teased.

"We partied a bit but never anything crazy," Foggy defended. 

"Honestly I didn't party too much. Not a big people person," Daphne defended with a grin.

"Shocker," Matt murmured next to her. She squinted at him as Foggy snorted.

"I mostly got in trouble for fights," she shrugged. 

"Fights like real fights?" Foggy asked, sounding surprised.

"I had issues with using my fists and not my words. I was never actually good at fighting but it's amazing what you can do if you're pissed off enough," she murmured.

"Were they critiquing your people skills?" Matt asked dryly.

"It's like you want me to punch you," she commented with a sweet smile. 

"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart," he smirked, raising a brow. She made a mental note to try and kick his ass next training session. Karen seemed to take their banter as flirting and gave her a look as if she thought the date was going well. 

Soon enough the food was at their table and Daphne was loving it. She wanted to come here at some point on her own. They'd been making casual small talk and the night had actually been going really well. She hadn't even fucked with Matt too much as she kept getting distracted by the drink, amazing food and actually good conversation.

"So I have to ask, how did you two meet?" Karen smiled glancing between Daphne and her fake date. She should have known this was coming. Foggy choked on his food a bit and Karen looked at him worried before smacking his back a little. 

"We met at the precinct, just kinda crossed paths I guess," she shrugged with a grin.

"She had that bad attitude and I couldn't resist," Matt smirked. She rolled her eyes at him and the others laughed.

"Daphne told me you've been training her. Helping her defend herself," Karen mused, just making conversation. 

"Yeah. She's actually doing really good. She's a fast learner," he actually sounded sincere and she couldn't help glowing with the praise. 

"I can't even imagine how scary that must have been for you though. What that guy did… and now he's awake again," Karen said with a furrowed brow. Daphne stilled completely, her head whipping from one person at the table to the other. Matt grimaced, looking down at the table and Foggy looked like he'd seen a ghost. Karen glanced at them before her eyes widened a little.

"Wait. You- you guys didn't tell her?" She asked hesitantly. Daphne's heart went into overdrive and she hated how those simple words had an effect on her. But she was also more bothered by the betrayal she felt at no one telling her. 

"He's awake and you guys just didn't think it was important to tell me?" Her voice was tight and higher pitched than normal and she saw Foggy deflate as if realising he and Matt had ruined the date. She released then just how much Foggy meant to her because she felt bad. She didn't want Karen's association with the date to be a bad one because then she might not have a second one with him. 

"You know what, it's fine. Let's not even think about that right now. Let's just enjoy the night," she plastered a smile on her face with force as she grabbed the bottle and poured herself another shot and drank it in one. 

"Are you sure?" Karen started carefully. She hated the pity she saw in her eyes.

"Mhm. I don't want it to ruin the date," the word date felt like acid in her mouth as she tried to push back the burning betrayal and dose of anxiety all the way down. She gave her another smile and it seemed to do the trick. Foggy gave her a look that was relief mixed with pure guilt and she looked away.

"I think we should get dessert," Karen said after a moment to diffuse the tension.

"Good idea! We'll go up and order it. You guys want anything?" Foggy asked, standing up so fast his chair almost tipped over.

"No, I'm good thanks," Matt muttered. 

"The fudge cake seems good. But can I have it to go so I can eat it later?" She asked politely. So she could eat it in bed tonight when she lost sleep over the mess that the night turned out to be. Karen smiled as she ushered Foggy away and they walked to the counter across the way.

"Daphne," Matt started softly.

"Don't," she bit out with pure anger. She grabbed the bottle but Matt swiped it from her easily and set it back down. The pure need to drink was overwhelming her and she could feel her heart thumping against her ribs.

"I think you've had enough," he scolded lightly. She looked at him with such fury that he recoiled even though he couldn't see it.

"You know what I've had enough of? Lies, people turning out to be shitty. Keeping important things from me," she hissed. She could feel her blood pressure rising with each word and she felt like she couldn't breathe. 

"Come on. Let's get some air," he said firmly, standing up and reaching for her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to stand and she swayed a little from the alcohol and the anxiety making her head rush. 

"Wait, where are you guys going?" Foggy asked, confused as he came back to the table Karen in tow after they'd placed the orders. 

"Just need some air," Matt murmured, not even sparing them a glance as he ‘watched’ her. They must have seen her anxiety because they just nodded as they sat. Matt led her outside and off to the side out of the way. 

"You know, I'd expect this from you, but from Foggy? And Brett? Why didn't Brett call me the second that piece of shit woke up?" She yelled, not caring if people heard her. Matt didn't have his glasses on and his hazel eyes burned into her as he frowned.

"It was me. We only found out because we were with Brett when he got the call. I suggested we wait to tell you and asked Brett to keep it quiet too," he sighed regretfully. 

"Why?" Her voice was pained and he grimaced, taking a step towards her.

"What good would it do? If I told you earlier when I found out, all that would have done was make you panic sooner. And you were so set on coming here and helping Foggy out and I didn't want you to just lock yourself away," he explained.

"I like Karen, I really do and I think there's potential to be friends, but do you know what a slap in the face it is to have someone's who's practically a stranger tell me?" She was upset, more than upset and her brain was a pile of mush as she tried to sort through it. 

"If I knew this would happen, I would have told you sooner. But it doesn't change anything. He's awake now and there's nothing you could have done differently to change what's happening," he placated. 

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. She didn't want to cry. Not now and not in front of him. She regretted drinking now as it always made her a little more emotional.

"I just want it to end," she lamented. 

"I get it, and it will," he soothed. She scoffed and shook her head incredulously. 

"You don't get it though, Matt. He got in my head! He messed me up so bad that I barely slept because I didn't want to deal with the nightmares. They finally stopped after we slept together and now they're gonna come back and I'm just gonna drown in the fucking anxiety!" She raged, swinging her arms around wildly as she swayed slightly. 

"With all the evidence you have on him, he's going away for life. And I'm not gonna sit here and pretend to know what it's like… what you went through. But I know a thing or two about trauma and nightmares and they get better. Yeah, he's awake, but soon he'll live his life in a cell and be far away from you," he pressed. She bit down on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. Her eyes prickling with tears she was fighting away. That overwhelming helpless feeling had returned along with flashes of Mr Lee's dead body on the floor. 

"Matt… you're a lawyer but you're also a vigilante. You can't stand there and tell me that justice always gets served," she hissed quietly, keeping her voice to a minimum.  He looked frustrated as he tilted his head looking in her direction.

"I know it doesn't. Believe me I do. But I still try to have faith in the system. This should be an open and shut case. The stuff you have on him will be enough to convince a jury and he'll be gone. And if by some miracle he gets out, I'll keep you safe," he sounded almost desperate and she wanted to believe him. 

"Right, what are you gonna do, camp out on my fire escape every night to make me feel safe?" She scoffed bitterly.

"If I have to," he stated firmly. She blinked at him for a moment but her brain was too much of a mess to deal with whatever this was.

"I… I can't sit there in court and face him, Matt. I don't know if I can do it," she whispered brokenly. She hated feeling weak. It had been a rare occurrence in her life and she relished feeling in control. But her attack had flipped her upside down with that and she hated how badly it bothered her. People out there lived through worse things and she was still hung up on this. It made her feel small and stupid. 

"You can do this. You're one of the most headstrong, stubborn people I've ever met. You want to bury this whole thing? Then you go to court and tell them what a monster he is. Tell your truth. Mr Lee's truth. Get justice," he said forcefully as he rested his hands on her shoulders. It was pretty motivational, she wouldn't lie. She'd never seen him in court but she bet he was a great lawyer. 

She blew out a breath, reigning herself in. Panicking was getting her nowhere and there was truth to Matt's words. She wanted to have faith in the system but after everything she saw with Fisk, it was hard to. But she did have a lot of evidence and she herself was a victim and witness. It would be a good case. Once again it would just be a waiting game and she hated it. The thought of looking at that asshole in the eye made her stomach clench with fear. But she needed to take back that control and maybe that was the only way to do it. 

"I uh… always seem to become a mess when you're around," she snorted self deprecatingly as she sniffled. She wrapped her arms around herself as Matt released his hold on her. The night air was a little chilly and she'd left her coat inside. 

"I have that effect on people," he teased and she smiled at him.

"Thanks, I guess… for the pep talk. We should get inside," she mumbled awkwardly. She let her guard down around him too many times to be comfortable with it. He'd seen her vulnerable a few times now and it made her feel weird. She didn't like it. 

"Right. Back to the double date," he smirked, shaking his head.

"I hope it's going well. It seems like it right?" She asked him as they got to the door. She opened it and he took her arm and it looked like she was leading him.

"I'd say so," he grinned, gesturing with his head. She looked over and saw Karen and Foggy sat close together, smiling and talking to each other. She felt a pang of envy watching them. She glanced at Matt as they made their way through the make of tables and people but his head was already tilted in her direction.

"What?" She asked softly.

"Nothing," he muttered, turning away from her again. Weird, but nothing new for him.

They finally reached the table and the pair smiled widely at them. She smiled back as they sat down. They had empty plates in front of them from dessert and in her place was a box.

"How was the cake?" Daphne asked.

"Amazing. The best cake ever," Foggy beamed, looking at Karen every so often like he couldn't take his eyes off her. 

"It was. I think you'll really like it," Karen agreed with a warm smile. She really did like the woman and it would be nice to add to her new collection of friends. Something she never thought she'd want. 

Karen excused herself to go to the restroom and Foggy watched her go with a love sick smile on his face.

"Going well?" She asked him. His eyes dropped to her then and be flushed with a nod.

"Better than I hoped. And I know things went a little… ass upwards at the end but I really appreciate you guys doing this for me. And I'm sorry, Daph," he frowned. He looked like a wounded puppy.

"It's fine. We ready cleared it up," Matt murmured, reaching over and patting Foggy’s arm with a smile. 

"So… I really wanna walk her home. You know, get some one on one time, talk a little. Make the night last a little longer. But I'm just so…blegh ," he made a swirly motion with his hands and Matt chuckled. 

"I've got your back, dude. You both seem to be taking cues from us all night. I think she's as 'blegh' as you are," Daphne teased, making the same hand gesture he did.

"I've not been taking cues from you two!" He defended with a pout.

"You really kinda have been," Matt snorted.

"You're the little brother mimicking his big brother," Daphne grinned. Foggy threw his napkin at her with a playful huff as they all laughed. 

"Oh my god, I've been taking cues from a fake couple on a fake date. What is wrong with me?" Foggy whined. 

"You're just nervous and want to make sure it goes right, there's nothing wrong with that," Matt smiled at him. It was kind of nice seeing Matt be a decent human to his best friend. 

"Thanks, man," Foggy said sincerely. A truly touching moment. 

Karen came back after a moment and Daphne glanced at Matt, acting mask in place. She leaned into him a little and smiled, watching his confused face turn to her.

"It's nice outside. I think we should walk back to your place, see the stars and all that. That sounds nice, right?" She asked sweetly. Matt seemed to follow her lead as he shot her a smile he'd never given her before. She wondered how many ladies had been on the receiving end of it.

"Of course," he said softly, lacing her hand that was on the table with his. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. A little over the top but he seemed to sell it well as Karen grinned at them.  Daphne would deny until her last breath that her heart fluttered when he did it. 

"That does sound nice actually," Karen murmured shyly, glancing at Foggy. Foggy quickly shot Daphne a look that she could only interpret as a mental high five before he looked back at the blonde.

"Sounds great," he grinned at her. It was kind of adorable how neither of them knew what to do and seemed to be following hers and Matt's lead, she started wondering just how far she could take it. How many seeds she could plant to get them to make a move on each other. She also felt kind of weird to know just how closely the other pair was watching them. She was very aware she had to stay in character for this to work. Maybe she had too much tequila for her to be overthinking this so much. 

They all stood, Matt grabbing his cane and his glasses. He went to put them on but Daphne stopped him, her hand clasping around his.

"Leave them off. I like your eyes," she murmured, her other hand reaching up to his face. His eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed thickly as her fingertips teased his eyelids. She faintly heard a murmured 'aw' from Karen and she inwardly smirked. She removed her hand and he opened his eyes. It was weird how he seemed to look right at her even though he couldn't. He gave her a small smile and nod, slipping his glasses into his pocket. 

She laced her hands with his and he used his cane as they navigated their way out. Karen and Foggy behind them. Once they got outside, she noticed the pair also holding hands. Matt's lips quirked up and she knew he knew it too. The four of them stopped on the sidewalk, about to go separate ways.

"It's been really fun guys," Daphne said warmly. She meant it too. Apart from the hiccup she'd actually had a good time. Fake date or not. 

"We should do this again sometime," Karen said eagerly. Her cheeks flushed red at her words and she glanced at Foggy like he was going to say no to another date. But Foggy had a dopey grin on his face that he couldn't even hide. She didn't want to say anything about how her and Matt weren't really dating. That was something they'd figure out another time. Foggy could tell her it hadn't worked out and that was that. But they could still all hang out. Foggy and Karen as a couple with her and Matt as 'not really friends but sometimes okay with each other'.

(Continued in next post)

[spnsmile]

Cas will smite everyone who insults Dean's freckles

Yes yes he will! No questions asked! 👀

But shit just went down here, anon! Still sweet end, don't worry ✨ For you 😅

--------------- 👀

Castiel likes it when Dean is honest with himself. 

Since their first kiss, their first night, both confessing how they always wanted each other in every way, Castiel made Dean agree they both stop their 'wishful thinking' and start doing as they please. They wasted time dancing around each other, Castiel is not about to condition Dean on his own wants. He wants Dean. Permission was given. Castiel trusts Dean and that's about everything they needed to know.

So he likes it when Dean steals kisses while in the middle of a stressful hunt. Likes it so much when Dean entwines their hands while doing manual research. Best, of course, is when he can pin Dean on the wall without much as a blink. Gets thrilled when Dean pushes his chair and straddles his lap without warning.

It happens anywhere in the Bunker: the library, the kitchen, even the upper entrance where they set the chessboard game. He loves Dean's honesty, it makes his whole face brighten and make Castiel feel like sunshine is flooding his soul.

So it's true. Honesty is the best policy. Except for Sam. Sam needs limits. Sam says he needs his peace of mind so honesty is not for all. Sam who caught them by the ham radio panel once, twice by the telescope too- needs his rules. They had to make sure Sam is safely out of the way.

So when Dean stands up from his chair and walked to him while Castiel sits on the couch by side table, Castiel smiles too. Sam is out for the night. And Dean wearing his cheeky little grin and twinkling green eyes suggestively makes Castiel's invisible broken wings to flutter in excitement.

Dean takes the book from Castiel's hand and threw it away. Angel's eyes follow where it landed (in case he needs to retrieve it before a dog eats it) before falling on his knees. Castiel watches Dean, mesmerized as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. Their eye contact is glazed and intense when Dean looks up before kissing the tip of its head.

Castiel exhales for the blessing. Leaning back on the chair, he cards his hand on the hunter's hair. Dean is beautiful. Much beautiful with cheeks flushed and lips wrapped around his cock. But it's not this that gets Castiel staring fixedly. 

"I love them. Your freckles."

It's the first time he's said it. 

Also, first time to see Dean glare up to the angel's surprise. His movement did not cease but the pacing grows bolder and quicker that Castiel is throwing his head back breathlessly,  fingers digging on the hunter's hair till he comes. Dean draws more from him, Castiel wonders if its Dean telling him to stop talking.

Dean's lips certainly can and when the hunter smirks at Castiel's wrecked form, the angel thought nothing of it anymore

Until the next hunt.

***

The impala door slams shut, scaring off squirrels on the nearest lawn in the middle of a hot suburb. 

"What's the plan, Samwise?"

"Shut up, Dean. We need this done pronto. We already know the demon's inside the house holding two college students hostage-"

"-who happened to play around with a book of witchcraft and eventually summon an actual powerful demon-" Cas supplies flatly.

"Good times." Dean rolls his eyes.

"Is it?" Cas is confused. 

"Guys, listen," Sam pursed his lips "we still have to know what kind of demon they summon okay? From the description of the mother, the book she saw is ancient-"

"That's my boy remembering all the nerdy stuff." Dean pats Sam's shoulder who scowls. 

"I was thinking they could've summoned an old demonized pagan god which means it's going to be a little tricky."

"Can't I smite it on the spot?"

Dean beams at Cas, full of heart eyes. 

"That's why I love that you're here, Cas. You've no idea of half the shit Sam and I went through when we deal with the old bitch stuff as pagan gods." Cas only squints.

Sam shakes his head. "No, Cas. If we can catch it that's much better. We don't know what happened to the third kid."

"And there's a third kid." Dean sighs. "There's always a third kid. Cas, we can't have the demon ganked until we have the whereabout of the kid, okay?"

"Understood."

"You can smite it when things got out of hand," Sam adds. Castiel relaxes. "Dean will work on the trap downstairs while I tackle it wherever the hell it is."

"Definitely not in hell." Dean snorts humorously but nobody laughed. He scowls.

"Cas can cover the back of the house, Dean can go front while I clear what's the second floor, see if the kids are there. And Dean. Don't kick the door, please." Sam finishes. 

Dean winks at Cas. "Sammy does the search and rescue while we get the tough job."

They do the drill. 

Dean is the first to reach the living room. Castiel hears him kick the door. Rolling his eyes, he walks through the kitchen, searching high and low. But he stops when he feels the evil energy contained in the space ascend so he hurries to Dean.

Dean has it in a devil's trap. It has shed the mortal body to its gruesome true form of bile and wood, an old pagan indeed. Probably after Sam exorcises it. 

The demonic voice did not surprise him he hears it talking to Dean. He hears the threats, the convulsing energy that wants to harm, but when the demon starts cursing at Dean, Castiel steps forward. The demon saw him and yells curses in his direction.

"I got it, Cas," Dean says.

"You?" spits the demon, "Yoke of the yellow eyes with his tongue's mark on your skin, got me? Freckled fuck-"

Castiel's whole form flares with anger. He sees Dean flinch, sees the color drain from his face as the demon went on with insults but it's over in a second. Castiel smites the demon, holy grace exploding in blinding rage. His eyes stay on Dean who blinks at him in surprise. They stand there not talking till Sam appears telling them third kid is not upstairs.

"Cas! I told you we need him!" Sam says, crestfallen at the empty devil's trap.

 "It got out of hand," Castiel says tone leveled. "Dean?"

"Uh... Yeah, yeah out of hand. Let's find thirdy." Dean reverts to his business tone, hunter first mode but Castiel sees through him.

Turns out the third kid is dead.

***

That night when in the safety of Dean's room, after Castiel strips all but the necktie on his neck and granted Dean's fantasy, when the hunter is in a better, relaxed mood, Castiel asks Dean about it. 

Honesty is what they needed most.

"It's not that. I love everything you say, Cas." Dean says with the left arm at the back of his head, the other Castiel's pillow while the angel stared up at him. "I just don't like it getting pointed... During, you know, sex."

"Why not?"

Dean looks away. "I know they don't look good. Not in the dark, not with fire-"

"What? Some mortal you had sex with said it's not?" Castiel couldn't imagine the fire at first, wondering how some one- nightstand can make Dean Winchester doubt the perfection of every part of his body. 

Dean doesn't answer so Castiel pushes himself to look Dean in the eyes. His green eyes look somber and hurt. It confuses the angel.

"Dean."

"It's not exactly mortal." he points out.

"Anna?" Castiel chastises.

"No."

"I can recite all the supernatural beings in the world Dean, both in Alphabetical and numerical order.  Also in symbols even Enochian if you want. So unless you want me to start the vigil-"

"I think you'll get there easy with demon A plus torture, y'happy now?" Dean snaps, turning his body away from the surprised angel.

But Castiel is a bottle of rage. He wants to climb out of bed and charge hell once again. Destroy everyone who made Deam suffer. But this is not about him.

Castiel's inside flounders at the gravity of the meaning. He stares at Dean's shrinking form, his exposed back where he can see the lovely sunspots graced by heaven's light even in the darkness of the room. 

The remark of the demon hits him hard. Even when it's been years, scars of words don't easily heal...

He feels Dean's anguish, can see the brightness of Dean's soul slowly diminish. And it's easy to fall prey to your own demons sometimes, much easier than loving yourself after what happened.

It hurts the angel.

"Dean." he places a gentle hand on the hunter's shoulder possessively, glad Dean isn't pulling away. "Dean, when I put you together from hell when I touched you right here," he squeezes the shoulder, "I cleansed your soul from any damage and residue that hell brought you. That's what an angel's claim means to do. To purify and renew. Any sin you committed before then has been... Um, in your words, turned a clean slate. There was no doubt you came out from there intact and cleansed."

"Let's not talk about it." Dean fumes. "Not in the sack. Don't mention it, please, Cas.."

Castiel looks brokenheartedly at Dean. He rubs his hand gently on Dean's skin before finally pulling the man's back flat on the bed. His heart ached when he sees the blurry green eyes swimming in silent unshed tears. 

Castiel frowns deeper. Dean is beautiful and no kind of demon will ever see that. It takes amount of love to see it. Dean needs to see it. So he leans down. Crawls over the man, their bodies parallel, his knees on each side of Dean's hips and then worships him

Lile how Dean deserves it.

He catches Dean's eyes. Makes Dean see the intensity of his love. Presses a gentle kiss on Dean's eyes, his nose, his cheeks. Dean's lips he brushes with his own. 

"I love them. They are beautiful," he repeats firmly, confidently. 

Dean swallows hard. Castiel crushes his lips on Dean to a bruising kiss, distracting Dean further when he presses their body together, igniting the flame dampened by a cursed memory. But Castiel won't let Dean continue believing his freckles are Taboo. He loves Dean's freckles. Loves everything that is Dean. 

So he repeats it when he touches Dean and makes him come. Repeats it when he takes Dean apart. Whispers it when Dean falls asleep in his arms. Knows Dean starts believing when he says it repeatedly on his ears and Dean smiles.

"I love them, okay?"

Dean pecks on his lips and murmurs, "I love everything you love, Cas."

"That means you."

Dean looks him in the eyes softly. Castiel waits, embracing Dean closer like doing so would keep Dean's heart together. Then-

"Mm kay. I love myself too."

Castiel tucks his face on Dean’s neck. 

"Fuck, Cas - babe, you cryin?"

 It's between that and smiling.

[glitterbootsharry]

Chapter One- Hocus Pocus

Disclaimer: I do not know much about witchcraft or anything associated with it besides the few tv shows and movies I have seen. If I have gotten anything wrong or mixed up, please feel free to let me know. I want to get as much right as I can as I have done some research, but I know I do not know a lot. 

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It’s a cliché, but a cliché nonetheless. My world changed at the blink of an eye- the opening of a café door. I go there every morning on my way to class; it’s the only one near campus that isn’t too terribly crowded. The one on campus is a nightmare on a good day, but on term week? You might as well hang out over night to get a decent spot in the queue. And yet, I never saw her there, her raven-like hair shining in the window, until today.

She sat in the corner table by the window with her nose stuck in a book. Her chocolate hair neatly curled in waves with a frizzy braided headband from her own hair lay atop her head. She was a host to an empty coffee cup that sits alone on the dark wood table. If I'm going to be honest, she made me queasy. Sick at the stomach. Her brown eyes scan each page quickly before she eventually grabs her pen and orange highlighter to encompass whatever Edgar was speaking to her at the moment. I couldn’t take my eyes off her- her olive tanned skin, her dark hair, her bright eyes. She was everything that beautiful could endure.

She sighs as she sips the last remanence of coffee, half of it spilling on her crisp white shirt. She hastily placed the cup down before pushing the book further up to her face.

I’m up next in line. I ask for a simple black coffee and a refill for the girl in the corner- the one whose bookmark is a rose. The counter girl looks at me strangely before pushing the few buttons to ring up my order. She flutters her eyes at me as I run my card through the reader and says it will be a few moments. I wait by the other end of the counter, closer to my mystery girl. The universe could come to a crashing end and she wouldn’t know with her head stuck so far into the book. From the corner of the paperback, I can see she’s chewing on the inside of her lip. Whatever story she’s reading, she’s there imagining the world lay about her. The counter girl walks past me and gently lays the black coffee in front of her with the small cup of creamer. She clears her throat making the book girl look up.

“I didn’t order this,” she says. Her voice is melodic to my ears. Her eyes scan the room when the counter girl says that I bought it for her. I stuff my hands in my navy pea coat before walking over to her. The counter girl says, “I put your amount of sugar in there already. Just needs creamer.” She smiles and nods her head at me, completely ignoring the girl at the table, before walking back to her station.

“Some light reading, I see? No one really reads Poe anymore,” I say, a smile growing on my face. I feel like an idiot. Without my hands leaving my pockets, I motion to the empty chair in front of her. “May I?”

She doesn’t say a word, only goes back to her reading. I take her silence as consent and wait for my coffee to arrive. She pours the entire contents of the creamer into the cup and swirls the white liquid until the coffee turns into the hazel color she prefers. “What’s your favorite story? Or poem?” My leg bounces under the table when she looks at me with a glare that could kill. “Mine’s The Raven. Poem would be Annabell Lee.”

She looks back at her book when my coffee arrives. I sip slowly, hoping this agony would end soon. I don’t want to walk away from her until she leaves. That would be quite rude. We sit in silence, she ever so seldom sipping on the coffee I bought her.

“Tale-Tell Heart and Alone,” she finally says, breaking the silence between us. She still has the book in her face, but I can see that she’s looking at me over the black binding.

“Ah, she speaks. Was beginning to wonder if you were mute or something,” I laugh slightly, but she does not. I feel my cheeks get hot as I clear my throat, sipping my coffee again. “For all that I have loved, I have loved alone.”

She makes a noise from her throat as the book slowly begins to lower. She has a black hoop hanging from her nose and earrings all up her ear. Small tattoos above both elbows and wrists. There is one behind her ear that creeps onto her neck. My guess is that she finally knows that I am not going anywhere until she does. I extend my hand across the table, hoping she would take it. She slowly extends her, watching the people around look at us. “Name’s Harry Styles.”

“Rowan Lloyd,” she whispers. She quickly takes her hand away after I shake it once. “You a student at the university?”

“Yeah,” I scoff as I rub the back of my neck, something I’ve always done when my anxiety is up. “English major. You?” She nods, not telling me what her field of study is. “Well, I want to be a writer. I’ve got a talent for it, but lack the skills I guess. That’s what my mum says. Anyways, is there a chance I could get your number? We could hang or-”

“I don’t do that,” she says, pushing her book into her book bag. She pulls out a set of car keys and sets them on the table.

“Can I ask why?” I’m watching her every movement, drinking her in. I don’t want to forget her.

“No, look I got to go. Thanks for the coffee, but don’t do it again, alright? You seem lovely, but it’s not you, it’s me.” With that, she walked out of the small coffee shop and got into a green car that had seen better days, driving away. She broke up with me before we even started.

“Don’t fret it,” a guy slides into Rowan’s seat. He must have been watching the catastrophe from afar. “She’s a weird one. Doesn’t get on with most students. Rumor has it, her family is nothing but devil worshippers and witches.” I snort, not believing such nonsense.

“Yeah right.”

****

I sit in the middle of the classroom- not too far back that I don’t pay attention, but not up front to where all eyes were on me. I like being in the middle, knowing I’m not vulnerable to such idiocies. Students are piling in, taking their seats, chatting away at their newfound friends when Rowan walks in, still wearing her coffee stained white shirt. She scans the room for an empty seat. I wave at her, but she ignores me. I know she saw me- the panic in her eyes tells me so. She finds a seat by the window that faces the small garden on the grounds. She pulls out her book and lays the rose on her desk when she begins to read, small tendrils of dark hair fall in her face.

The professor walks in, her heels clicking against the tile floor. She calls out attendance, and when she asks for Rowan, all she does is raise her hand, still reading Poe. She introduces herself as Doctor Murray.

“You have a paper due by the end of term on what you learned during our time together. I expect it to be no less than five pages,” Dr. Murray says with a handful of groans and panic following. “For now, I will be pairing two of you up to complete our first project. Shakespeare. Really dig deep into his words, you all. Read not just what’s on the paper, what he’s saying, but read between the lines, read the words he doesn’t speak. I would like a presentation on how the past has and will affect modern literature.” Dr. Murray calls out last names in pairs. I try to steady my heart, but every time I look over at Rowan, her nose is buried deeper into the book. It was the last two names that were paired together that made me nauseous. “Styles, Lloyd. You two will have The Tempest. Good luck.”

“Witch,” someone calls out from the back. A ball of paper is thrown at her, but misses greatly. “Perfect play for you, devil worshipper.”

“Williams, do we have a problem?” Dr. Murray asks, quirking her brow. Her eyes look over her half-rimmed spectacles to the young boy in the back corner. “If you have a problem, please take it up with them outside my class, not in.”

Dr. Murray clears her throat before dismissing us. “Be careful, Styles, you might come back as a toad,” the same voice talks down to me when I look up. It’s a man about my age and he’s still wearing a jacket from college.

“Haven’t got the slightest clue what you’re on, mate. Just doing a project is all,” I smile and push past him. I try to catch up to Rowan, but she’s descending down the stairs quickly as a group of students block me. It isn’t until we’re in the car park that I spot her again. “Rowan!” I run to catch up with her; she’s hunting for her keys next to her car. “Rowan, hey. I just want to say that I’m really excited about-”

“Come off it, will you?” She looks up at me with hurtful eyes. She’s nearly in tears and I don’t know what to say. Her car isn’t the same as I last saw it. “What do you want? Call me names? Want me to recite some spell you made up? What do you want?”

“N-Nothing, I just wanted to know when you wanted to get together,” I cup her elbow with my hand, “You alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” she sighs as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She looks at the mess on her car. Someone had painted “Witch” on the back windshield in red paint before pulling toilet paper around the car. I sigh, setting my bag on the pavement before gathering the useless prank off Rowan’s car. I try my best to wipe up the paint so that she could see, but it’s partially already dried. “Thank you. I guess you’ll be needing my number after all.” I place my hand back on her elbow. She’s frozen with anger and sadness.

She gives me her number, her black nails hovering over the piece of paper.

“Why do they call you that? Witch?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

“Just some teasing they do. I figured after college it would end, but it seems that London’s a massive gossip parasite. Who would have known?” Rowan rolls her eyes and shifts her book bag on her shoulder.

“Why? Witches aren’t real,” I smile trying to ease the joke in. Of course, it’s all a big joke, right? “A bunch of Hocus Pocus?”

“Yeah,” she says with a firmness. She looks up at me and smiles softly.

“So do you want to come over to my flat or I come over to yours?” I ask, bouncing on my heels. She looks at me with reddened eyes before speaking.

“I don’t live in the city. I take online classes except for this one- I couldn’t get it online. I live just out in the countryside- just inside Shere in Surrey. It’s a small village, quite cozy, really, with my grandmother so your place will have to do for now, I guess.” A sudden look of fear and panic crosses her eyes, “Shit I forgot my flower.”

“Your rose?” I ask, wanting to touch her hair. I’m conscious that my hand is still on her elbow. “I can go get it for you, if you want me to.” The module will be filling up again, but I am willing to dive into dumpsters for that rose.

“No, it’s fine. I have more at home.”

“At home? You grow roses?” I quiz, my heart exploding in its cavity as she smiles at me.

“Yeah, I grow them. Among other things. So, um, Harry it was nice to meet you or whatever, but I’ve got to go. I’ll start reading tonight.” She turns, my hold on her fades, and I stand back as she reverses. Her eyes find me in the rearview mirror, in between the dried paint, and I could have sworn she winked at me.

It was when she left that I realized she didn’t have my number.

“Shit.”

####

@sunflwr-styles

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - TREDECIM

(gif not mine - credit to rightful owner)

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: (bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

II OF PENTACLES: balance, priorities, adapting to change

The summer days seem to sweep by slowly, much like the sand that blew softly in the desert in the afternoon. It didn’t take long for Donghyuck to read the book Cosimia have him for his birthday either. He took a quick interested in the subject of witchcraft, more than she had thought he would. Every time they moved, he would end up dragging her to the book stores to the town nearby and whenever he ran out of books, he’d borrow Sicheng’s laptop for further research.

To Cosimia it was quite thrilling to see her friend so passionate and interested in something... The curiousity and joy that came to light up his eyes in the form of a sparkle made her smile to herself and feel a bit of joy herself. It gave her a sense of hope as well let her see purity in the most unlikely places she wouldn’t imagine were possible. Lately, she was often too busy looking at the boy with her own sparkle in her eyes because of this.

“I think I’m gonna become a witch...” The boy has said to her from his place on the couch.

“Hmm?” She hummed as she was knocked out of her dream like state at the kitchen counter. “Oh... I think you’d make a good one. I thought you’d need, like, a coven for that though?”

“That’s only if you want to be Wiccan,” He informed her. “I just wanna do like magick stuff, you know?”

She nodded, understanding him before she took a sip of the coffee in her mug. As soon as the cup left her lips she let out a little chuckle as she put down the white mug on the counter.

“You’ve mature quick a bit, Haechan.” She smiled. “Mentally, that is.”

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “I’ve always been mentally mature!”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that...” She rolled her eyes. “I meant with being more open minded about what the world has to offer and such. Also, I know you were the one who helped the seniors with their prank this year. Condom and togas? Really?”

“We were the Trojans! You have to admit it was pretty genius of me.”

“Genius isn’t the exact word I’d use to describe but yeah, sure.”

With every passing day, the closer it got to summer solstice. The solstices were always some of the most vital holidays of the years to witches. Though, the summer solstice seemed to be the most special... It was the one day of year you could brew love potions and they’d work as well as all witches having the ability to see the future.

He knew he had Cosimia. She saw the future every day, it was normal for her. There was always a part of him that wondered what it was like to see things the way she did. He wanted to see things the way she did sometimes...

Before he knew it, it was three in the afternoon on a very hot day. He sat on the floor of the trailer that felt like an oven as the carpet itches his legs from underneath him. Long pieces of dried grass remained scattered around him as he crafted away the best he could. It was oddly quiet. At least until Cosimia interrupted and found him there. She was quite shocked at the mess.

“You know, when you said you were going on a break I didn’t think it meant you were ditching.” She huffed as she looked intimidating in her all black outfit. “What are you even doing?”

“Making a besom.” He muttered, trying to tie pieces of the dry grass to the large, smooth, wooden stick. It wasn’t working for him and he got so fed up with it, he just threw it across the room which startled the girl. “This is so stupid!”

“No, it’s not stupid.” She sighed as she came to sit down to make him feel better.

“Then what is it? I’m just wasting my time and yours and honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was wasting other people’s time too. Everyone thinks I’m weird or a devil worshipper! And then everyone is like ‘no, you’re a warlock or wizard, not a witch. you’re not a girl’ but they don’t understand it’s gender neutral and the others ones are insulting for some reason!”

“Okay, first off, I know you’re mad but you need to calm down. Not a lot of people know that, Haechan. Witchcraft isn’t really taught properly to the general public. Not to mention, people are scared of those types of things. You know that well, don’t you? I get it’s frustrating but you also know if no one else will understand and support you, I will. Isn’t that how we ended up here in the first place?”

He nodded, the familiar feeling of his breath being taken away from him as she held her cheeks since the passionate little speech for it. To be honest, it filled him with a different type of delight and serenity as it calmed him down after his small blow up. It was just so loving and safe...

“And hey,” She spoke softly and gently to him. “We can go into the forest tomorrow and get better materials got your besom. You can practice there too. I know you’re preparing for summer solstice... but right now, we need to go back to the tent. Hendery can only stall for so long.”

He laughed at the last comment and nodded after before following her back. There was a huge line waiting for them at the tent. In front of all those people stood Hendery and Kun. The young, black haired boy blabbered on about how Cosimia had gotten his broken arm prediction correctly and how amazing it was. It caused them to snicker a bit before the girl tapped him on the shoulder as signal that they could go back to being security. They went back to their job as well.

He stared at the girl with a sort of goofy smile as she help one of the people before he helped another. It took awhile to get rid of everyone and once they all left, he decided to do a reading for himself as he made a habit to pull a card out of the deck every day. When he was shuffling, a card came out of the deck which he gladly grabbed before flipping it over. It revealed the tower, in reverse. The image made the color from his face drain. He swipe it of the table as quick as he could, before she could see it.

There was a painful event coming, one he or even they avoided... He had no idea what it meant but it made him feel uneasy. The fear of suffering, something avoided as it could be seen. There was no clue as to what it was which made it that the more ominous to him. If it was able to be seen, wouldn’t he know? He decided not to worry about it right then as the girl was already saying it was time to go.

Much like his friend promised, they went into the forest the next day. The birds chirped and bugs hummed around them as they trudged through the thin, tall, green grass and trees. The twigs and leaves crunched under their feet as well. Cosimia pulled a old, red wagon that creeked behind her that bumped against the uneven ground every once and awhile. She would pick up things everyone in awhile and put them in the wagon.

They decided before making the besom, Donghyuck would practice a bit first. He was going to cast a circle, it would be his first time ever doing so and maybe he’d cast a few spells. They just needed a place...

There was a point they reached in the forest. There was a circle of trees that surrounded a clearing. When they went in they couldn’t see the sky clearly as ivy had grown over the top only allowing small holes to let sunlight in. It did seem almost quite magical to them as they decided to stop there because it was too perfect for them.

It was obvious Donghyuck had so much to practice. Casting a circle was something he needed to learn first and foremost as well considering it was one of the most important things to know. He cleaned the area with the clear quartz like the books he read told them too. Who would have known Cosimia’s crystal obsession would’ve really come to his use?

He stood alone in the middle the clearing as the girl sat to side on rock close to a tree. She smiled at him before he turned to face the East. He tried his best to recall the words he read multiple times to be used in this situation. He closed his eyes while he started to cast the circle with his right hand. He envisioned it in his mind as he turned clockwise. Though, half way through he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. He looked at the girl with a pout on his face, he looked like he was about to cry.

“I feel so stupid...” He mumbled while lookin down at his feet and twiddling his fingers.

“Haechan, it’s not stupid.” She sighed. “You know witchcraft is about believing before anything else. I know you may feel funny at first doing it and that’s normal. But you’re never gonna get anything out of it thinking it’s stupid.”

He began to pout again, knowing she was right and only trying to help him, “Can you join me, please?”

“...I’m not a witch, though. And I don’t want to be one either...”

“You don’t have to be! You don’t have to do anything other than encourage me. I just don’t want to be alone while doing this.”

She rolled her eyes, mostly to herself because of how quickly she gave into him. Nonetheless, she still came over to stand beside him. It left a smile on his face which soften her up as well as make her feel better about. It was only a few moments later that she noticed how long they had been staring at each other in that beautiful place.

“Hurry up!” She hissed, interrupting them moment. “We still need to make your besom and Johnny’s gonna pissed once he figures out we dipped today!”

He kind of felt hurt by her attitude but understood it at the same time. So he picked up where he left off. He closed his eyes and raised his right hand once again to continue where he left the circle unfinished. He unknowingly grabbed Cosimia’s hand with his left while he finished casting the circle around them. He was done before he knew it. He dropped his arm to his side. His eyes fluttered open as his friend pulled on his hand, gently. He looked at where the spot where it connected in the end.

“I think you casted a circle.” She whispered in his ear, a tad of sweetness in her voice. “You did it.”

“H-huh?” He stuttered at the exact same moment he realized he was still holding her hand.

She let go, though. It made his heart clench in the way he missed the warmth of human touch. He expected it oddly enough. She was still getting comfortable around him and he was lucky she even put up with considering he initiated it. 

“I can’t even get out now to go get the stuff for besom.” She chuckled in the thick air as she noticed the red wagon was left by the rock. “I guess you’ll have to dismantle it.”

“You know there’s a way to go and out, right?” He asked.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. Why don’t we just relax here for a bit, anyway?”

She sat on the ground within the circle before she leaned back at the bright green grass with her arms behind her head. Her dark purple hair spread out around her, some parts turn red in the sun let in. The white light leaked in through the ivy to make her eyes sparkle and her hair look shiny and smooth.

“What about Johnny?” He teased as he sat down next to her.

She shrugged, “He’s gonna be mad regardless of when we come back. Why don’t we get a nice day out of it before we get yelled at? We won’t be back here, at least not for some time.”

For awhile, they just laid their in the oddly warm grass. It wasn’t until later they actually did anything productive. She helped him get his besom ready, the air becoming slightly cooler as the afternoon seemed to pass by. They sat in the exact same spots in the middle of the clearing, across from each other.

“So, are you excited for summer solstice?” She asked in the mist of silence.

“Of course!” He answered. “It’s the one time of year where I can see the future for myself.”

“And according to the Romanian witches, it’s also the one time of year where you can make love potions that actually work.”

“Yes, I do actually. I’m surprised you know that actually.”

“I was just wondering... if you are gonna make any? You know for me?”

He froze in his spot as she asked the question to him so nonchalantly. His eyes even bugged out of his head as his the rest of his face remained relatively blank. At the same time, maybe she wasn’t stuble poking at him having a crush on her... Maybe she wanted one herself but for who? Lucas?

“What would you even need one for?” Donghyuck grumbled as he went back to work.

“I guess I didn’t phrase it right.” She rolled her eyes with a sigh. “I meant, are you gonna make any for me for yourself?”

It was no longer easy to avoid the question by playing dumb unfortunately. It was too apparent that he had a thing for her anyway. He was a fool for thinking she wouldn’t know or figure it out. To even deny it would do no good.

“No,” He stated. “If you’re going to fall in love with me, I want it to be natural, not artificial. I wouldn’t like knowing you don’t love me for the sake of loving me…”

“That’s very beautiful of you, Haechan.” She smiled.

He hummed with a nod as a response. The both of them went back to working on besom. He avoided looking up for the rest of the time they were there like that. It was silent between them too but the bugs flying around and such filled it. It was warm, he sun light that seeped through the ivy was comforting and seemed like it could coaxed anyone into a nap right then.

It was truly the most calm and peaceful it had been for quite some time for them. The days leading up to the solstice were also that way. Donghyuck remained excited throughout their work day which put a smile on the girl’s face. The night was the most important time for it all though.

A fire burned bright a away from the grounds. Their newly founded friends even came to support him, mostly because Cosimia said how much the whole thing meant to him. All they really had to do was hold a candle and a specific type of plant they picked themselves the other day. To be honest, seeing everyone there for him made him feel so happy especially after the last time of where he was just ignored.

Nothing really happened until the clock stroke midnight though. It was time, by what the books said, ‘to open the sky’ which was most exhilarating part of it all. It would give him the power to see into future. He got his besom and lit the end of little twigs on fire before he raised it toward the sky. He felt awkward about it, just like with casting a circle the other day and also a bit heavy but continued regardless.

He started to mumble a spell as his besom was pointed toward the moon. The others that stood around him could barely make out a thing he was saying, the crackles from the fire not helping. He hadn’t notice but the end pointed toward the sky was becoming brighter and hotter. The other sure did take notice though, most of them scared as they only stood there.

They waited, there had to be more right? He still hadn’t seen anything yet and let alone feel anything besides the heaviness in his chest thinking maybe it wasn’t real... Though, in a sudden move, he fell back and dropped the rest of his besom in the fire before he saw himself be engulf in darkness. The darkness suddenly turned white. He saw another verison of himself, burning away much like a picture would only to reveal Cosimia. She was covered in ivy. Her father, he’d only seen once appeared out of no where with a crazed look in his eye. All he saw was the color of gold before he back to where he was before.

He found himself on the ground, rocks digging into his back and a painful headache. Everyone surrounded him with a concerned look on his face. Mostly he only saw the girl as she was the one cradling his head.

“A-are you okay?” Xiaojun asked.

“Oh, how many fingers am I holding up?” Jeno butted in while putting up two fingers.

“Dude,” Jaehyun started. “He could literally have a concussion, not now.”

“Y’all ain’t gonna talk about how he wasn’t just vibrating?” Jaemin brought up. “That literally can’t be a concussion!”

“Vibrating?” He questioned as he wondered what exactly happened when he went into state.

“Will you all just shut up?” The girl snapped.

“Is it a bad time to say Kun called the paramedics?” Lucas informed quietly from behind the boys. “They’re gonna be here soon but does Haechan even need to go to the hospital since he looks okay now.”

“Nothing wrong with a check up after what happened.” She sighed as she played with his silver hair a little bit which took his mind off the pain.

“Okay... but did you see anything though?” Hendery laughed nervously.

“Hendery!” Sicheng hissed whole hitting him in the arm

“What? I’d like to know!”

“No, not really.... Just some colors but that was about it...”

“Well, that’s boring.”

“Hendery!”