#bring back farah dowling

[backjustforberena]

Okay, stick with me here. S2 AU where Farah was not removed and remains in her position as Headmistress but it's tenuous as all heck. Farah is gilded in glory as a Headmistress who kept her school together amidst the Burned One attacks, and the mentor of Bloom, but Luna is on the attack. She's lost confidence in Farah and just needs one wrong move to get rid of her.

But Farah wants to force Luna's hand. She wants Solarian aid, not just in rooting out what's going in with the scrapers but with the search for Rosalind Hale (it's not widely known that Rosalind is alive, nor that she's a psychopath, of course) - so far Saul has been coordinating that on his own. Farah is dogmatic that Rosalind must be found and apprehended, even if it means blackmailing Luna on exposing Aster Dell.

She chooses the Alumni Dinner to do it. Make it a public show, Luna can't say no, etc etc. Luna has to pledge support. Except, Luna has her own plans. Given that students are missing and there are creatures that Farah has no answers for, Luna has enlisted someone who does know what they are facing and is fully prepared to take on a post at Alfea, specifically to do so. Someone considered a war hero and previously lost.

At the Alumni Dinner, Luna brings out Rosalind.

After all, Farah wanted support... didn't she?

[baubeautyandthegeek]

Bring Me To Life - Luna of Solaria/Farah Dowling

A/N: Day 3 for @augustwritingchallenge

Luna knows when Farah dies, but the two have always had an agreement, no matter how fucked up it is, Farah will come back. So Luna moves to do what she must, slicing her arm, whispering enchantments even as Farah’s students call her back, she’s dripping blood even as she waits, her eyes closing when Farah finally rises. Academia works well, but the darkness of their life means it’s never just academic work, sometimes it’s something close to fae witchcraft. Others would call it gothic, a haunted school full of faeries, but neither Luna or Farah care much for how others feel, as long as they have each other.

[specialagentlokitty]

Farah x reader - not all bad

Staring at the woman in front of you, you narrowed your eyes a little bit at her.

“You think I don’t know what I am doing?” You asked.

“I’m not saying that, all I’m saying is that my students are still in danger and you are doing nothing to protect them. You have been here for half a year and yet they’re still in danger.”

You slowly crossed your arms across your chest as you looked at her.

“Do you understand it is my job to deal with this without your students knowing?”

“I am aware of that (Y/N).” Farah sighed.

“Right, and do you understand how incredibly hard that is? Right now I have people trying to find out how they’re infiltrating Solaria, and some of these demons attach themselves to people. I can’t exactly be rid of them that easily, it takes time and precision.”

Farah sighed, running a hand down her face as she sat on the edge of her desk.

“I know. I need to know why they’re coming after my students. Yet you’re not telling me anything, I thought you were supposed to be the coordinator between Alfea and true cross.”

“And I am, and somethings I am instructed on who I can tell, right now we’re not sure what the plan is. We’re not sure what’s bringing them here. It could be the amount of power they can sense coming from the school.”

“Then what are you doing to stop this?!” She snapped.

“I am under orders Farah! I can only do so much!”

“They’re children!”

“I know!” You yelled.

You ran your fingers through your hair, and sighed as you tried to calm yourself down.

“I know. But until I get the orders there’s nothing I can do I’m sorry. All I can do is kill the ones that come on site, that’s my orders.”

“So you’re willing to put my students at risk for orders?”

“I’m sorry.”

You turned around and started to leave.

“If any of my students get hurt (Y/N) you better be ready to accept responsibility for that.”

You spun around, pointing at her.

“Don’t you dare do that Farah Dowling. You know the situation, you know what has to happen.”

“And I meant what I said.”

“I’m trying.”

You turned around again and she stormed forward and grabbed your hand.

“Don’t try! Do! Because I will rain down hell if anyone gets hurt because you won’t stop this!”

You spun around and slapped her hand away and Farah screamed in pain and you looked down at your hand seeing the blue flames licking at your skin.

Then you looked up at her, looking at her red hand.

The fire died down and you stared at Farah as she stared at you in horror, looking at the flames surrounding your body.

“Farah I..”

“Get out of my school right now.” She hissed.

“Farah listen to me…” you whispered.

The door was thrown open and Saul rushed in and he looked at Farah holding her hand and then looked at you.

“What the hell…?” Saul whispered.

“They sent a demon to clear the demons, that’s why’re they’re here. Because of (Y/N).”

Saul drew his sword and you did the same thing, activating the flames again and you looked at them.

“They’re not here because of me… why do you think they sent me? I can see them no problem, I can sense them and kill them quickly.”

“You’re the child of Satan!” Farah yelled.

“You need to go.” Saul growled.

You sighed, lowering your sword as you lowered your gaze.

“I’m nothing like my father…”

“You’re father is responsible for the blue night! I do not want a demon inside my school!”

Putting your sword away, you kept your flames out as you looked at them, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you backed away a little.

“I am so sorry Farah.. I.. I never meant.. I’m sorry..”

You turned around and left.

You didn’t bother to gather your things, you simply just left Alfea, leaving your flames out so people would move out of your way.

You hung your head sadly as you walked down the road, taking one last look at the school you turned to the man stood at the gates.

“Bring in more exorcists, I’m going home, if anything changes let me know.”

He nodded his head and you carried on walking, waving your hand up, you opened a small flaming gate and you walked though it.

You left Solaria all together, sitting on the roof of the other school, you sighed to yourself as you looked over the water.

“This is why we don’t grow attached to people.”

You glanced at the purple demon next to you.

“Shut up Mephisto.”

He raised his hands and sat down next to you, and you punched his shoulder.

“Ouch, what was that for?” He pouted.

“I’m mad, that’s why.”

“Well you do still have a world to rule over, that’s better than anything some fairy can offer you.”

You shrugged a little bit.

“I’m going to stay here for a while.”

You only stayed for a day because you got tired of your brother pestering you, so you went back to the first world.

Sitting on the throne, you rested your head on your hand as you looked down at the bustling demons below you.

You were bored of this, bored of babysitting them and making them behave.

You were bored of being a ruler, it’s why you went to Solaria in the first place, for a change of pace.

“Is everything okay your highness?”

You flicked your eyes to the demon next to you.

You ignored her and went back to staring at nothing.

Farah approved the increase of exorcists that were sent to Alfea to help protect the students, and she sent an angry letter to the people that had sent you.

She was furious, and that was an understatement to say the least.

But just as it seemed like everything was fine, there was an influx in attacks from the demons, and they were struggling to keep them away.

“We need to bring them back.”

“I am not bringing them back and that’s final.”

“As an exorcist who has been in charge of them, I, Owen Peterson, can confirm (Y/N) is the only one who can deal with this!” He snapped.

“They’re a demon!” Farah snapped back.

“And as it stands right now you have a higher class demon awakening in your forest attack the school! If that demon wakes up this school, this realm is done for!”

“They’re the child of Satan himself! I’ve seen their flames! Blue flames!”

Owen threw his hands into the air.

“They’re one of the demon kings! Each realm aside from Solaria has a demon king ruling over it. (Y/N) is the ruler of the first world, they’re a direct descendant of Satan yes. And that means they’re the most powerful demons, the only one who can bring a demon down like this and who would.”

“Can’t your people deal with this?” Farah asked.

Owen sighed, shaking his head.

“We can hold it off for a few more days, a week at most but that’s if. We can put up a barrier but that thing will break through it in a matter of hours, we need (Y/N) back.”

Farah placed her hands on her desk and sighed, looking at the bandage around her hand.

She wanted to protect her students, but she didn’t want to bring you back to Alfea.

“As this demon grows it’s going to release spores, these are going to attack to everything, they will slowly kill everything. I’m sorry but regardless of what you want I’m bringing them back.”

Owen left before Farah could reply and she sighed, sitting down at her table as she ran her hands down her face.

She didn’t know what to do.

You haven’t moved from your chair in hours, and you looked to the side when your phone started to ring.

Reaching over you declined the call and it rang straight away.

“Lorzo answer that, I’m not interested in taking the call.”

“Of course.”

The demon picked up the phone and answered it for you.

“It is a Farah Dowling requesting to speak to you.”

“Put it on speaker.”

He nodded and put it on speaker.

“I need to talk to (Y/N) immediately.”

“Their highness does not wish to speak.” Lorzo replied.

You heard Farah sigh on the other end.

“I need their help.”

“You made it perfectly clear you do not want me there, so I am not there.”

“(Y/N) please, we don’t have the people to handle this. Owen said you’re the only one who can kill this demon.”

You took the phone from the demon and waved him away.

“One minute you don’t want me there now you do?”

“Stop this nonsense. Stop being childish.”

“Simply stating the obvious Farah.”

She sighed again and you stood up, setting the phone down you listened to her talk as you looked at the doors that opened.

You gestured to the man to be quiet and he nodded as he walked over and handed you your sword.

Putting it on your back, you stretched a little as you looked down at your phone and shrugged leaving it there.

You followed Owen out and quietly closed the door.

“Did you really have to leave her on call?” He asked.

“I don’t want her to know I’m actually going.”

He nodded his head and you assessed the situation as he showed you some maps.

“Right, let’s go.”

You travelled back to Solaria and began to make your way to the forest where the waking demon was slowly infecting the area.

Farah stopped talking and stared at her phone and she hung up.

“Anything?” Saul asked.

She shook her head.

“I don’t know if she muted herself or if she was just refusing to talk to me.”

“Then what do we do?”

She shook her head, unsure as to what they were supposed to do now.

You started to walk up the trail and stopped, reaching down, you placed your hand and the little white spores growing on the ground and lit them on fire.

“I thought you send it was waking up.”

“It is. That’s what we were told.”

“Owen, it’s already woken up, it’s spores shouldn’t be this far, you need to evacuate everyone from this area, now!”

You drew your sword, flames surrounding you as you looked at him.

“Take them all back to Alfea, create a barrier to stop them from reaching the school.”

He nodded and ordered the evacuation and you ran as fast as you found, cutting through anything that was on your way.

You could easily see the demon, it was huge, and it seemed to have spotted you because it began to attack you.

Farah watched as the exorcists ran back towards the school and her and Saul rushed outside.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Immediate evacuation, it’s already awake, we need to brace the school.”

They looked out at the forest where the spores slowly crept closer.

You were hit to the side, and you rolled over some rocks but you quickly stood back up and the wounds had already started healing.

You jumped over the next attack, using this as a chance to get closer you ran along the wall of spores, swinging your sword as they tried to get you.

Running up the large creature, you looked for the opening you needed to kill it, you needed to stab it’s eye, the only part of it that would kill it.

But you couldn’t find it.

Enhancing your flames, you just ran around blindly attacking, your flames growing larger and larger by the second until they burned the sky.

Everyone stared at the blue flames, the bursts of flames that appeared in the sky before vanishing again.

“(Y/N)!” Farah yelled.

“Their fine, we have to wait.”

Farah nodded but watched the flames anxiously.

You landed on the ground and looked up at the demon, and it seemed to study you for a minute.

“You recognise your own kind you ugly bitch?”

It attacked again, and you jumped, but you didn’t jump high enough before you were throwing into the trees.

They snapped as you impacted them and eventually you stopped and hit the ground with a heavy thud and you groaned a little.

It was moving closer, and it hit you back again.

Slowly standing up, you let go of what you were holding on.

You released all your power in a terrifying burst of demonic flames that shot out in every direction, taking over the forest by storm but not burning anything but the spores.

Farah and a few others stepped back at the sight of the flames shooting closer, but they stopped just after the trees.

All she could do was stare.

Yelling, you jumped, digging your sword into it, you swung yourself up again and started to run around once more.

You dragged your sword up it’s arm, letting it on fire, and you did the same on the other side.

Jumping down, you dragged the flaming sword down it’s body, igniting it in a bright blue fire and it stumbled back a little.

And you saw it, you’re opening.

Running back, you saw the attack coming out the corner of your eye, and you threw your sword just as it’s arm collided with you, slamming you into the cliff base.

You slumped to the bottom and you looked at the demon burst and die.

You kept your flames where they were, killing the spores so they couldn’t spread and to make sure everything was okay.

Bringing a hand up to your mouth you wiped a bit of blood as you sighed, resting your head back.

Owen looked at the flames and he held his hand up and the barrier was dropped.

“This is now a rescue mission, find anyone that didn’t make it back and bring them here. Medics get ready, and if you see (Y/N) shout!”

The exorcists ran in different directions and Farah didn’t hesitate to run to the trees and she stopped.

She watched the people run through the flames and she looked at them, hesitant to go.

Slowly, she reached out a hand and touched them, and they didn’t burn her so she slowly walked in and started to run.

“(Y/N)!” She yelled.

She kept calling your name as she ran up the trail, following the path of destroyed trees.

She found your sword but didn’t see any sign of you, so she shouted your name again.

You heard Farah calling your name, and you reached up a shaking hand, moving your hand down, you created a stream of fire that rushed along the ground.

Farah looked around, and she stopped when she saw the flames creeping closer.

They stopped, and the rest of the fire died down to nothing aside from this one trail.

So, she followed it, and it receded as she carefully watched it.

You watched her walk through the trees getting closer, and you lowered your hand making it vanish, and you drew a small breath, holding your hands over your ribs.

“Here… to yell at me again..?” You mumbled out.

She looked up and walked over, kneeling in front of you she set your sword down and shook her head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded your head.

“Yeah, it’ll heal soon. Just.. need to sit here..”

Farah nodded her head and reached out, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth with a small frown.

“Why didn’t you say anything..?”

You sighed a little.

She looked at you, blue flaming horns on your head, pointed ears, eyes glowing slightly and flames covered your wounds, slowly healing them.

“For that exact reason..”

You turned your head away from her.

“I didn’t ask for this… I never wanted to be this..”

Farah reached out, placing her hand on your face to tilt your head towards her.

“I was putting a lot on you, I’m sorry. I was just so worried for everyone. I should’ve trusted you.”

You looked at her and she smiled.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you Farah.. I.. I lost control..”

“It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s healed, good as new.”

You nodded your head and you closed your eyes as you rested your head back, furrowing your brows a little bit.

“Thank you for coming (Y/N).”

“You called.. I came..”

“And I mean it. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.”

You peaked an eye open to look at her.

“You owe me.”

“Whatever you want.”

You grinned a little.

“Dinner?”

“Are you seriously asking me out on a date right now?”

“So is that a yes?”

Farah laughed a little.

“Yes. It is.”

You grinned a little more, and Farah looked at your shirt as it moved.

You reached down, lifting your shirt to show her a tail that was coiled around your waist and you uncurled it, and it moved from side to side.

She looked at the tail then looked at you amused and confused.

“Any self respecting demon knows one much hide their tail unless they’re comfortable with whom their showing it to.”

Farah reached out and you took her hands, lacing your fingers with hers.

“Absolutely not. No touching.”

“Alright, I won’t touch it.”

You kept your fingers laced with hers as you pushed yourself up and grabbed your sword with your other hand, resting it on your shoulder.

“Let’s get back.” She smiled.

You nodded and started to walk, and Farah glanced back at your tail swaying happily behind you.

When she was sure you weren’t looking she reached down but you lightly tapped her hand away.

“Bad.”

[evebestt]

Hi hon! You’d asked before if one of the items in my upcoming fics list was a third chapter of Mothers and Daughter — it wasn’t at the time, but I’d been thinking of writing a continuation of that story for a while, and so finally here it is! I again went completely overboard with the fluff, so if completely tooth-rotting domestic family fluff is up your alley, then this one’s for you 🖤

This one does involve pregnant!Reader, so if that isn’t your jam, this one may not be your favorite.

Read here on AO3 or below.

Mothers and Daughter (3/3)

And Three Became Four

~

You sat on the couch on what had become a quiet Saturday afternoon, Lucy at a friend’s house to play with her daughter, and Farah in her office catching up on work. You’d found a box of photos tucked away in your closet, and now sat with it on your lap, smiling at all the moments and memories you’d forgotten.

You flipped past a photo of your grandmother, only to let out a laugh at the next one in the stack. It was you, at least eight months pregnant with Lucille, your hands on your back as though to quell the ache there, giving the camera a wide smile, though you could see the shine of discomfort in your eyes.

The door opened as you stared at the photo, and you heard Farah call out a greeting, along with the thump of her bag, undoubtedly full of paperwork.

“Hi darling,” you called back, turning to look over the back of the couch. “Come see what I found.”

You heard her make an interested noise from the doorway, hanging up her coat before she walked to the living room.

“What’s all this?” she asked as she sat down next to you, and you handed her the photo. She took it, and then she split into a wide grin, chuckling fondly as she stared.

“Look at you,” she cooed, sitting further back against the cushions and turning to lean against you. “All big and round.”

You snorted, raising a teasing eyebrow at her. “You really know how to charm a woman, Dowling.”

“Come now,” she said, giving you a teasing look before looking back at the photo. “I really would have loved to have seen you like this.”

“Ungainly and waddling to the bathroom every fifteen minutes?” you guessed, and she shot you another smile.

“Carrying our daughter,” she countered, and nodded to the photo. “I wouldn’t trade our lives for anything in the world, but there are times I regret I wasn’t here for this.”

“You mean the morning sickness and the unpredictable mood swings?” you half teased, raising an eyebrow. “Trust me, you came in at just the right time.”

“No, truly,” she said earnestly, looking at you with a slight melancholy in her eyes that pulled at your heart. “The morning sickness, the mood swings, the swollen feet. The first flutters, the first kicks, all of it. I wish…” she trailed off, then shook her head, giving you another small smile. “It doesn’t matter. Our life is more than perfect now — there’s no use in dwelling on what could have been.”

But there was still that bit of sadness in her eyes, just a tinge of regret that you couldn’t ignore. Shifting closer to her, you laid your hand on her arm before sliding it down to tangle your fingers with hers, quietly murmuring as you stroked your thumb over her knuckles. “Wish what?”

Farah was quiet a moment, staring at your joined hands before she spoke. “I wish that I could have been there for you through your pregnancy.” She squeezed your hand gently, still staring. “Wish that I could have taken care of you while you carried Lucille. Helped to bring her into the world, in a way.”

You felt your heart warm, and felt it twinge with that same melancholy you’d seen in her. “I wish that too,” you murmured. “I don’t regret anything that’s happened, or the way our story has gone. But having you by my side while I was pregnant, ever supportive.” you smiled, and leaned in to press a small kiss to her lips, “would have made me fall in love all the faster.”

She smiled against your lips, then gave you another kiss, warmer and deeper than the last.

The thought hit you suddenly, though it wasn’t the first time you’d had it. Leaning back to look her in the eye, you cocked your head, trying to choose your words carefully. “Do you ever think about…” you trailed off, and gestured with your free hand as though to help make your point. “Another one?”

Her eyes widened a little in surprise, but, to your excitement, not in reluctance.

“Occasionally,” she said, and a slow smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “I’m more than happy with just our girl, and would be for the rest of my life. But…”

“But it feels like our little family could grow, too?” you finished, and felt your breath catch in your throat when she nodded, feeling like you were on the precipice of something huge.

“Would you want to do this again?” She gestured with the picture she still held. “The morning sickness, the mood swings? Raising another child?”

You paused for a long moment, memories of your last pregnancy running through your mind. The nausea and moodiness, the aches and pains and the need to run to the bathroom every fifteen minutes near the end.

And found that none of it compared to the thought of having another child with Farah.

“There were certainly uncomfortable parts of pregnancy,” you started slowly, staring at your joined hands before glancing up to meet her gaze. “But compared to the reward at the end, of having another child with you?” You slowly nodded, and saw her eyes light with something precious. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

There was a long pause between the two of you, your eyes searching hers as excitement mounted between you like sparks of electricity.

“So are we…” Farah started slowly, seeming to hold her breath, and then you felt the excitement suddenly pop between you like a bolt of lightning.

“Having a baby?” you said it in a rush, making you both laugh, little chuckles of joy, excitement, nervousness, delighted disbelief.

“I—” Farah let out another laugh, quickly leaning forward to drop the photo on the coffee table before turning back and taking both of your hands in hers. “I think we are.”

You couldn’t help yourself — you pushed her back against the couch, swinging your leg over to straddle her in one smooth movement before leaning down and capturing her lips in a hard kiss. She met you eagerly, stroke for stroke, her hands warm on your waist as she pulled you closer, deeper into her lap before a hand drifting to your stomach, already in anticipation for what was to come.

When you broke, breathless, you sat up to look her in the eye, grinning to match the soft, gleaming smile she gave you. “Let’s have a baby.”

~~~~~~~~~

You opened the bathroom door before another wave of nausea could hit, a towel in hand as you padded to the kitchen. Farah waited on a barstool at the island there, a cup of tea in her hands, and another one waiting across from her, steam still curling from the rim.

You sat gingerly as though too much movement could awaken the nausea, and set the towel aside before curling your fingers around the mug, letting the warmth seep into your bones.

“Thank you,” you murmured hoarsely, and Farah just smiled, setting down her own cup.

“The least I could do. When you think you’re ready, there’s crackers as well, or bread to make toast.”

You just nodded, taking a careful sip of your tea, and felt tears sting your eyes when you tasted ginger, the roil in your stomach already calming to a slow roll.

“Still wanting to be here through the morning sickness and hormones?” you half joked, your voice watery, and you gestured to your tears as you blinked them back hard.

“I said so, didn’t I?” she said, so matter of fact that it brought tears to your eyes again, for the absolute assurance that she was here to stay.

“Was it like this with Lucille?” Farah asked as she picked up her cup again, and you shook your head.

“It wasn’t pleasant, but it’s definitely worse this time. It was at least morning sickness with Lucy, and the bouts didn’t last so long. Now it feels like anything can turn my stomach at any time.”

“Darling,” Farah cooed in sympathy as she stroked your arm comfortingly, and you hummed in thanks.

“I’ll be alright. I just have to tell myself that it won’t last forever. And it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“That’s a very positive outlook to have,” she remarked, a small smile on her lips. “I admire that.”

That made you smile back, and you reached out to pat her hand. “Remember that next time you have to listen to me in there.”

Farah chuckled, sipping her tea, and you took a deep breath, slowly moving to rest your head on your arms. “I think my stomach has settled now. But I’ve never been so tired.”

She made a small sympathetic noise, then stood and walked to the cabinets behind you, stroking your head as she passed. Pulling down a box of crackers, she set them next to you before taking up her seat again. “Eat a couple, then lie down for a while. Your classes are already covered, and I’ll pick up Lucille from school.”

You shifted to look at her, resting your chin on your arms. “Are you sure? I know your afternoon was supposed to be busy.”

“Of course I’m sure,” she pressed, and then gave you a small smile. “What’s the point of being the Headmistress if I can’t pick up my daughter when I want?”

You chuckled, feeling your chest swell with utter devotion to this woman you adored. “Have I told you I love you?”

Her smile turned lopsided, and it made you smile too. “You have,” she said, and the gleam in her eye made you laugh again. “But I’ll never turn down hearing it again.”

And so you said, “I love you,” without an ounce of hesitation, and thought you’d never be able to say it enough to ever truly convey the adoration that beat in your heart.

Her smile warmed again to something softer, more tender, and standing again, she pressed herself against your side, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your temple. “I love you, too,” she murmured, and then slid her hand down to the new curve of your stomach. “And our plus one.”

You chuckled at the nickname, then leaned your forehead against hers, relishing in the closeness, the simple, quiet moment between just the two of you.

Reluctantly, Farah pulled away, giving you one last kiss before she straightened completely and nudged the box of crackers closer to you. “Eat, then sleep. I’ll be home after I get Lucille.”

You nodded, watching as she gathered her things, then swung a light coat over her shoulder. As she turned towards the door, you called after her, and grinned when she turned around. “I love you.”

And her answering smile could have brought you back to life.

~~~~~~~~~

“What story do you want to hear tonight?”

“Both,” Lucy said, laying in her bed with you sitting on one side and Farah on the other.

You bit back a chuckle, exchanging an amused glance with Farah before looking back at Lucy. “We can’t do both tonight, sweetie, but I’ll read a whole chapter of the one that you pick.”

Lucy frowned a little, but studied the covers of the books you held up before pointing to the copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe you’d been reading for the past few weeks. Smiling, you set aside the other book before opening to chapter six.

With Farah stroking her hair, Lucy was asleep within two pages, and you carefully placed the bookmark back within the book before leaning down and giving Lucy a kiss on her forehead. Farah followed suit, and then you were switching off the lamp on her bedside table before levering yourself up from the bed, a hand on the lower swell of your belly, now six months gone.

You both crept out and left her door open a crack, then made your way to the living room, leaning into the hand Farah had on your back. You eased yourself down onto the couch there and though you weren’t so big as to need help yet, you noticed Farah hovering and ready to grab your arms should you need it, and warring feelings of indignancy and love warmed in your chest.

Letting out a sigh, you settled back into the couch and smiled when she kneeled between your legs. She ran her hands over the swell of your stomach, smiling softly to herself before she leaned in to press a kiss to the gentle curve, then rested her chin there to look up at you.

“How’s the little little one?”

You chuckled, smoothing your hand along the side of your belly. “Sleeping now. He calmed down about an hour ago.”

She smiled up at you, then pressed another kiss to your stomach. “Growing is busy work. Any babe would be tired.”

Just then you felt a kick right where Farah was, making you laugh. “Did you feel that?”

“I did,” she said, laughing too, and replaced her chin with her hand, staring intently at the spot. Another kick came, and her eyes gleamed with such love and excitement that you felt your chest swell with affection.

“He must know your voice,” you said, watching her as she continued to stare at your belly. “And loves you enough to wake up and greet you.”

Farah laughed again as she looked up at you, though her voice was earnest when she spoke. “Does he really know my voice?”

“Of course he does,” you assured, and ran your fingers through her hair, tied loosely at the nape of her neck. “You’ve been talking to him since day one.”

Farah gave you a sweet smile, then looked back down at your belly, her head cocking in curiosity. She sat like that for a long moment, and then her eyes began to glow, that blueish white that always made you smile. And then a moment later her face lit up with a wide, beaming grin that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“There is recognition there,” she said, and let out a giddy little giggle, pressing her hands harder against your stomach. “I can feel it — recognition, of me.”

“I told you he did,” you told her, and felt that same giggle bubble up in your throat as you rubbed your palms alongside hers. “I didn’t know you could do that — feel the baby that way.”

“I didn’t either. I’ve never had a pregnant woman to try it on.” She still had that grin as she looked back at your stomach, even as her brow furrowed slightly in concentration and her eyes lit up again. “It’s… basic, very instinctual. And it’s flashes of emotions, almost, not thoughts. I can sense you, too, connected as you are, but… I can feel him.”

A lump formed in your throat suddenly, thinking of that fleeting yet precious moment the three of you were all connected, you to the baby to Farah and back again.

Farah shifted to rest her chin on your belly again, eyes still glowing with her connection to the babe, and you slid your hand around to stroke the nape of her neck, holding her close, prolonging that soft, quiet moment for as long as you could, knowing it would become a memory you’d treasure for the rest of your years.

~~~~~~~~~

You sat in bed late at night, a book propped precariously on the large swell of your belly, trying to focus enough to read more than a page when Farah came in, giving you a smile as she quietly shut the door behind her again.

“Lucille’s still sleeping soundly,” she murmured, her smile turning slightly sheepish as she crawled up the bed towards you. “I always have to check every time I pass her room.”

You returned her smile, knowing you did the same thing, and set your book aside on the bedside table, tilting your head up as Farah gave you a quick kiss. “Caught up on work?”

“Just finished,” she said as she settled in next to you. “I’ve never been this caught up in all my years as Headmistress.” She reached out and stroked the round of your stomach, eyes shining with fondness. “Perfectly ready for a new babe.”

You hummed in pleasure, and covered the hand on your stomach with your own, lacing your fingers together. “Just in time, too.”

Her eyes suddenly sharpened, and she sat up, set alert by your words. “Contractions? How are you feeling?”

You shook your head, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “No contractions — for now at least. No anything, really, I’m just…” You huffed, shifting as much as you could with your bulk. “I don’t know. Restless, I suppose. Just this feeling in the back of my head that I need to be moving, preparing. That I have to get ready, something’s happening soon, I have to be prepared.”

Farah relaxed a little, leaning back against the headboard, though her eyes were still alert, like she expected you to go into labor at any moment. “Did you ever feel that way with Lucille?”

“Truthfully, I think I spent my whole pregnancy feeling this way with Lucy,” you chuckled, shifting again. “I was a new, single mother, I spent nearly every day doing something to prepare — reading, buying baby things, setting up the nursery. I didn’t have to do much of that this time. I guess I’ve been so used to not feeling restless that now that I am, it feels odd.”

She smiled, relaxing even more next to you. “Do you think it could be a sign? Your body telling you that the time’s near?”

You shrugged, nodding a little. “Could be. I haven’t had any contractions for a couple of hours, but,” you glanced at the clock, and saw it was just past ten, “there’s a lot of night left. And even if it doesn’t happen tonight, I doubt I’ll be pregnant for more than two more nights, three at the most.”

Just then a ripple moved across your stomach — a small contraction, almost certainly false labor, but just the feel of it reminded you just how quickly things could change.

You hadn’t said a word, but Farah stared at you intently again, seeming to have sensed the change in you.

“I’m alright,” you reassured when the ripple passed, and then you let out a small chuckle. “Maybe it will be tonight.”

You’d said it half jokingly, but Farah just squeezed your hand and gave you a reassuring smile. “One call and Ben will be here to look after Lucille. We can leave anytime we need.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, full of love and warmth and thankfulness, and you reached up to cup Farah’s cheek, smoothing a thumb across her cheekbone. “Would you be ready to have a baby tonight?”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in to press a kiss to your temple. “Darling, I’ve been ready since the day we decided to have another.”

~~~~~~~~~

You kneeled on the floor at the side of the hospital bed, forearms braced on the mattress as your body was rent through a contraction, the pain like a stone wall pressing in on you, having no choice but to try and cling to the edges of it as you were threatened to be crushed under its weight.

You nearly collapsed against the bed when it ended, muscles quivering with the exertion, and you couldn’t tell if the breaths you took again burned or soothed.

“If you were in any way physically responsible for this,” you panted when you felt you had the breath for it, rocking your hips side to side to try and soothe the pain, “I’d be telling you we wouldn’t be having sex ever again.”

Farah chuckled against your shoulder where she kneeled behind you, the heel of her hand running in strong, soothing strokes down your back, as though to coax the babe into the world. “Lucky for me, then, I’m not.”

“No,” you said on a huff that almost could have been a laugh. “You’re not—”

The end of your word turned into a cry as another contraction seized your body. Your fingers twisted the bedsheets underneath you, clawing at them as though they alone could keep you from dissolving in a sea of pain.

“Breathe,” Farah murmured in your ear, her hand still moving in slow strokes on your back. “Pant through it, darling.”

You forced a harsh breath through your throat, then another, and then another as Farah murmured quiet praise in your ear, though you couldn’t find it in you to truly understand her words.

The contraction released after what felt like an eternity, and you slumped against the mattress again, only bothering to tilt your head when Farah ran a damp cloth down the back of your neck, wiping at the sweat that beaded there.

“Motherhood does stupid things to your mind,” you gasped, shivering with pain and the water that cooled on your neck. “You completely forget about this part of it.”

“I know, darling,” Farah cooed, wiping at your temple. “You’re doing so well, though. Just focus on our son, the babe you’re bringing into the world.”

That pulled at something deep inside you, an instinct that went above the fog of pain. The life inside you, the baby that you would meet and hold in just a matter of hours, that you would bring into the world. It was your task, your first act as a mother to this child, and the sudden sense of duty and love that swelled up in your chest bolstered you, giving you a sudden surge of strength you didn’t know you had.

“Alright,” you murmured, your voice steadier than it was just a minute ago. “Our son — we’re going to meet our son soon.”

And you clung to that thought as the next contraction hit.

~~~~~~~~~

Time was nothing but a blur, with slight, hazy memories of sharp pain and utter exhaustion, interspersed with the memory of a hand gripping yours and long moments that seemed to stretch into years.

And then everything snapped back into place when a sharp cry pierced your ears, and a small, warm babe was placed into your arms.

You were crying and laughing, an indescribable surge of emotion in your chest, your head, your heart, threatening to overwhelm you at any moment, if not for the little bundle in your arms that kept you anchored to the world around you.

“Hi, baby,” you cooed when you could force the words through your throat, bending to press your nose to the top of his head. “I know you.”

“My loves,” Farah whispered in your ear, and you leaned into her where she sat beside you, her presence bringing another wave of emotion to your chest.

“Our baby’s here,” you whispered back, and wondered how words could ever convey what you felt in your heart, but then you heard Farah chuckle beside you, sniffing back tears, and you knew she felt just as you did.

“I’m so proud of you,” she murmured, her hand coming to cover yours that cradled the back of the babe’s head. “My darling, what a wonderful mother you are.”

Her words brought fresh tears to your eyes, though you’d never really stopped crying, and you leaned more heavily against her, wishing you could press so close you could stop time and live in that moment forever. “Our son.”

“Our son,” Farah echoed, and then pressed a desperate kiss to your temple, her voice thick again with emotion. “Thank you for bringing our children into the world.”

“I’d never have done it all without you,” you whispered, and felt her sigh and pull you closer.

Time drifted a bit after that, and before long a nurse took the baby to be weighed and measured, and another one brought you food and something to drink, kindly but firmly telling you to have some of it before your son was placed back in your arms again. Another nurse asked you if you had a name, and after you looked to Farah, who nodded in agreement, you held in your arms for the first time a boy named Henry Brion.

And it was there that you and Farah sat for a long time, curled up together on the bed and the boy so perfect in your arms that you wondered how your life could be anything but a dream.

“So,” Farah started after a time, a teasing note in her voice that already made a giggle bubble up in your throat. “Was it all worth it in the end?”

“Of course it was,” you said immediately, a giddy smile on your face you couldn’t seem to control as you stared down at your baby. “With all the hormones rushing to my head, I’d be alright doing this a dozen times over.”

Farah chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple without taking her eyes off of your son. “Let’s start with two, and in a little while we can talk about a third.”

You laughed, and then realized that the first rays of sunlight were streaming through the window, the dawn breaking fully into day.

“What time is it?” you asked, and Farah looked around the room, finding a clock on the far wall.

“Nearly eight now.”

You blinked, amazed simultaneously at how much and how little time had really passed. It felt like a lifetime ago that you’d been sitting in bed with Farah, timing out the first contractions of labor, and yet it seemed like only moments ago you’d been pregnant, waiting eagerly for the kicks that never failed to make you smile.

“Darling?”

You blinked again and looked up at Farah, belatedly realizing she’d asked why you wanted the time. Shaking your head, you gave her a sheepish smile, then said, “Can you ask Ben to bring Lucy here? I want our family.”

Farah smiled, and pressing another kiss to your hair, she murmured her agreement before standing and reaching for her phone. You half heard their conversation, filled with smiles and congratulations and laughter, but it all seemed far away, unimportant compared to the baby in your arms, his eyes closed and his tiny mouth relaxed in a peaceful sleep.

Before long Ben was there, and Farah stood to meet him in the lobby, softly closing the door to your suite behind her. When the door opened again, Lucy stood there at Farah’s side, her eyes lighting up when she saw you and the little bundle you held, and she rushed forward.

“Mama!”

And as she carefully clambered up onto the bed to meet her brother, Farah pressing up against your side once more, it was in that moment that three became four.

[alexusonfire]

Memoirs of a Love Lost

Farah Dowling x Reader

You'd lived in the village your entire life, content with the mundane day to day life. That is, until one Farah Dowling strolls into market.

A/n: This is an older fic of mine, posted a couple years ago on A03, but it's been on my mind recently and I wanted to share it here as well. This is NOT a happy ending folks. Fluff to angst. Farah's soldier origin story, told from reader's POV.

It all began with a basket of peaches.

I'd never seen her before, this fairly tall woman with golden hair. She'd rode in on a large black steed, the heavy clogs of his footsteps heard by most in the market despite the usual hustle and bustle. The local children watched in awe as she tied him to a fence, most having never seen a horse quite so big. Despite her somewhat grandeur entrance, she soothed the villagers with her kind eyes and gentle demeanor, and spoke enthusiastically to every vendor she came upon, myself included.

She filled her basket with fruits and vegetables, some basic medical supplies and herbs, and made her way around the market until it was full to the brim before grabbing a second one. I watched her look around, a quizzical expression on her face, until her eyes met mine.

Her smile was dazzling.

She's pointed to the peaches on my right, inquiring about price, but I'd hardly heard the question; I was too entranced by the way her hair held the sunlight. Snapping out of it when she softly cleared her throat, I blushed and helped her load the peaches in, taking her coins and wishing her a good day. She winked at me before she turned to leave, and that was when I knew she'd be stuck in my mind for days to come.

She returned again the following weekend, on the same dark horse, her smile still dazzling. She greeted everyone like old friends, purchasing many of the same items as she had the week prior, and I couldn't help but feel excited when she finally made her way over to my stall, full basket in one hand, empty basket in the other. I plucked up enough courage this time to ask her name.

Farah. Farah Dowling.

We had a short conversation, she asking me if I grew up in the village, how and where I grew the peach trees. It was nothing special or particularly memorable, and she'd had to excuse herself shortly after when she'd caught sight of some children staring curiously up at her horse.

I watched as she lifted each one up onto his back, leading them around in a small circle as they shrieked in delight. She spent most of the afternoon offering rides, both she and her horse ever patient with the growing line of children. The sun had just begun to sink below the trees when she was finally released by parents calling for dinner, and they loaded up and clogged off, taking their time as they always did.

Farah became a regular in the village, visiting us every Saturday. We were always cautious of outsiders, but she'd won the town's heart in those first few visits. She was often met with a group of children, all wanting to say hello to her horse, bringing him apples and carrots to snack on while she shopped. Her conversations grew longer, the rides with the children more frequent, and soon she was being invited to stay for dinners, and, when the weather turned sour, stay the night. Everyone always said she had the best stories.

I wanted to hear them.

She would always make an effort to stop by and say hello, even if she wasn't buying anything. Sometimes she and I would get so caught up in conversation that I ended up missing a few customers, they not wanting to interrupt or intrude (as if I had eyes or ears for anyone else anyways...). I would get so lost in it, and I barely registered my asking her for dinner one night, nor her eagerly accepting. I felt the anxiety creep in as I realized what I had done, but her smile soothed me, as always. She loaded up her horse (whom I learned was named Finnegan) and returned to my stall to help me pack up my things. We mounted our horses and headed south, my house being on the far side of the village. The peach orchard I kept was a few miles outside the village, and I pointed the silhouettes of the trees out to Farah as we came upon my home. She made me promise to take her to see them one day.

Dinner was a modest meal of beef stew and fresh bread, and I pulled out my favorite wine for the occasion. Farah thanked me more times than necessary, and ate happily from the small bowl placed in front of her. Our usual banter picked up, and I sat in awe as she told me of her life, of Alfea and her mentor Rosalind, of her two very good friends Ben and Saul; she animated all her stories with her hands and occasionally a forkful of food. I remember thinking that people were right; she did tell the best stories.

We hadn't noticed the darkening clouds, nor the smell of impending rain until a loud crack sounded above the house and the droplets came down in sheets. We peered out the windows and decided it was much too dangerous for Farah to risk the trip home. Finnegan was cozy in the stable with Honey, and I had a spare nightgown that Farah was more than welcome to. We dressed, or rather, undressed, and met back in my tiny but comfortable bedroom. I watched as Farah slowly undid her hair, removing pin after pin, allowing her curled hair to flow freely down her back. It was longer than I'd expected.

After a small tousle of figuring out sleeping arrangements, she refusing to kick me out of my bed and I insisting she couldn't sleep on the floor, we agreed to share the bed. I made to crawl in when her quiet voice sounded beside me.

"Would you plait my hair for me? It gets awfully tangled when I sleep."

My hands trembled the entire time.

I'm unsure if it was simply the cold of the room that drew us closer to each other under the sheets, but we remained silent as we curled into the warmth of the other, grateful to have another body near as the rain pounded away above us. Waking up in her arms didn't feel as strange as it probably ought to, but neither she nor I made comment about it. I offered her breakfast, some toast and farm-fresh eggs; it was easy, peaceful… it made me yearn for something I didn't quite know how to describe. I asked her to dinner again the following Saturday, when she'd return for the market. She didn't hesitate to say yes. By mid-morning she'd dressed once more, and just as soon as she'd appeared the day before, she was gone.

Saturday dinners became routine for us, Farah always helping me pack my stall and then returning home with me. The second week she pulled a beautiful bouquet of flowers from Finnegan's pack, and every week after gifted me new ones. At first they remained in the dining room, next to some old family photos that had belonged to my mother, but when Farah would leave I moved them to the bedroom. It was nice to wake up to something that reminded me of her when she couldn't be there herself.

I usually cooked, but sometimes Farah would surprise me with a recipe of her own, muddling her way around my kitchen until she was comfortable. My favorite nights were the nights we'd cook together, easily moving around each other as we stirred and stewed and laughed. I taught Farah how to dance and knit, she would wow me with her magic, and each Sunday morning that we'd been lucky to share always began with me in her arms.

Our first kiss was an accident.

Another routine we had picked up was kissing on the cheek. Farah did it more often, usually as a way to show thanks or to wake me when I'd slept in too long. Before she mounted her horse I'd lean in and peck the tender skin under her eye, wishing her safe travels and missing her already. One evening, as I was stood over the stove, she came up behind me, her hands gently settling on my waist, and before I realized what was happening, I turned my head to greet her. Her lips were soft, and my senses were suddenly flooded with the scent of vanilla and oak. Time seemed to stand still when she pulled back, the air suddenly heavier. I turned slowly, her arms still encasing me against the metal behind me, and leaned in.

That first proper kiss was indescribable. I couldn't find the words then, and I can't find them now. It was as though I had finally come home after a long journey, and that sense of familiarity and ease settled into my bones once more. I wanted to live in that moment, soak it into my skin so it would be a part of me I could never shake.

"Take me to bed, Farah."

She was warm, warmer than I ever remember her being before, as she shifted on top of me and pressed our bare bodies together for the first time. She was gentle, so gentle, with her touches and kisses, and we took our time exploring one another, mapping out every curve and bump we could get our hands on. I was surprised to find just how much muscle she carried, and swooned when they flexed in the low lamp light. Hearing her come undone was quite possibly the sweetest melody I'd ever had the privilege of enjoying, and I endeavoured to make her sing for the rest of the night.

--

I don't recall much of my last day. The morning was dingy and grey, and felt wet even though there was no rain. It was a Saturday, and I woke with the usual anticipation of seeing Farah later that afternoon. I hummed to myself as I brushed my hair out, going to reach for some pins when I heard a creak behind me. 

Then a snarl.

Then darkness.

--

I so wish I could have been there for Farah when she came upon the village. The smell of char and death reached her nose before she hit the gates, and she spurred Finnegan on until they barrelled through the town square, all thoughts of her own safety the last thing on her mind as she took in the splintered wood and blood-stained cobblestone. Her eyes blurred with the images of her friends, people she had come to consider family, lying cold before her.

She fell to her knees when she found me. 

In one of the many nights she had spent with me, she'd told me how Rosalind, the headmistress of Alfea, was pressuring her to join the fight against the burned ones; as one of Alfea's strongest fairies, she'd be an asset to the war. When I asked her why she kept refusing her, she merely shrugged and said violence, even justified, was never her thing. I couldn't blame her of course, never being much of a fighter myself, and simply changed the subject to something lighter.

After she buried me beneath the peach trees, she finally joined the hunt.

[queerfanfiction]

Kinktober Day 1 — Breathplay

This is for my very first Kinktober! I probably won't post for every day, but I'm excited to share more Kinktober prompts!

Farah Dowling x Rosalind

AO3 Link

Summary: Rosalind had Farah in her clutches, metaphorically and quite literally too. She loved having power—power over Farah’s life especially. Her favorite kind of power was her hand over Farah’s throat and the sounds Farah made.

**I loosely follow the events of Season 1 while adding smutty flashbacks in italics.**

Farah’s eyes wandered over her outfit in the mirror, meticulously examining how the dark navy blue fabric hugged her neck. It had extra fabric ties in the front that she had unconsciously wrapped and tightened earlier that day.

Her thoughts shifted back to Rosalind.

Ben had found char residue on the dead shepherd outside the Barrier. It took nothing—barely a moment—for Farah to mention Rosalind. Her memory never slipped when it came to that woman. She knew it had been sixteen years, almost to the day since the last sightings of the Burned Ones. She had no idea why she felt a pang of protectiveness and defensiveness for Rosalind when Saul and Ben were discussing the Burned Ones returning.

Farah scrambled for control, too afraid of unraveling if they continued to discuss the woman Farah tried so hard to forget.

“Ben, what we think is irrelevant. The Barrier's doing its job.” Farah pauses, noticing her tone was harsh and final. Her friend deserved more; he was a pawn to Rosalind too. Farah’s next statement needed to project security and control.

“Until we know something for sure, let's clean this up before gossip starts.” Thankfully, Farah could mask her feelings about Rosalind by bringing up the safety of the students at Alfea. Farah turns nonchalantly, eager to find a safe space to go. What she felt was anything but indifference; she had to escape. She considered her office…well…it was once Rosalind’s office. Even if it had the dressings of being hers now, it was still was sat atop of Rosalind’s very prison. There was no escape from this woman’s clutches.

In an attempt to curb Rosalind’s haunting, all photos and mentions of Rosalind had been relegated to the abandoned east wing of campus. Farah hated how quickly she desired to discuss the previous headmistress. In fact, she had jumped at the chance to mention her name. It felt impossible to escape thoughts about Rosalind, especially with the current events occurring at Alfea.

Defiance. Disgust. Desire. Farah felt them all concurrently.

Could Rosalind still be seeping into Farah’s routine? Her hands reach for the fabric around her neck. Deciding whether or not to loosen it had beckoned a memory.

—

“My hands look divine around your neck. They’re the prettiest necklace you have, Farah.” The words oozed from Rosalind’s lips, so precise and taunting, as her hands squeezed the soft flesh of Farah’s throat. Rosalind’s humiliation made Farah even wetter between her legs.

Farah struggled to wrench Rosalind’s hands from her throat. Her eyes were beginning to swell with tears—her face beginning to change color. Farah is pinned against the sharp stone of the wall, and Rosalind drives her nimble fingers deeper into Farah’s wetness. Farah’s arousal was treacherous and betrayed her struggling hands clawing at her neck.

Rosalind ignored Farah’s pleas. They had negotiated terms, ones that included sparing Farah’s delicate windpipe and only applying pressure to the sides of the neck. Rosalind didn’t care. She wanted control. In fact, when Farah was breathless and gasping, it ensured she couldn’t talk back to Rosalind. She couldn’t defy Rosalind, and Rosalind liked it that way.

Of course, Rosalind consoled Farah further, musing, “Your lips are so kissable when parted and gasping my name.” Rosalind knew just how to manipulate to get what she wanted. She preyed on Farah. In response, this made Farah lean into Rosalind’s hold. There was an aspect of this dance between the two women that was mutually beneficial, even if the cons outweighed the pros for Farah. Farah craved the anchoring feeling Rosalind’s hand around her throat created. She didn’t yet understand how cruel the older woman was, rather she was under Rosalind’s spell. Farah was always rewarded for falling in line.

When Rosalind finally released her grasp of Farah’s neck, she kissed the younger woman hungrily, covering her mouth again. Farah could barely respond or even think, still taking in the rush of oxygen she was deprived of. Rosalind swallowed Farah’s every gasp and whine with the kiss.

—

Over the next coming weeks, Farah was confronted with Rosalind’s name so often that she had lost count. It was painful to mince the relationship she had with the previous headmistress. She simultaneously wanted to shout to make everyone understand how close she was to the woman while also never mentioning their connection again.

All Farah could utter when Bloom questioned her was, “I was her student…then her protégé.” …As if it really were that simple. Then again, Farah considered how she had always cared more than Rosalind did about their connection.

“Rosalind…She’s still manipulating people after all these years.”

This realization was tough for Farah and came swiftly after the events of Aster Dell. Bloom’s fixation on Rosalind scared Farah, because it reminded her of the hold Rosalind had over her for far too long. She remembered how she never doubted the older woman, never questioned her. It’s only years later that Farah can see Rosalind for what she was—unveil her tactics and all the secrets she never shared.

When Bloom let slip she knew Rosalind was being kept under the school and was still alive, Farah warned, “Whatever she has to give you is not worth unleashing her back into the world for, Bloom.” The ferocity with which Farah grabbed Bloom made both women pause and look into each other’s eyes.

Farah wasn’t sure she was ready to confront the prisoner below the school. She knew it was partially for selfish reasons, but Farah also knew it was best for Alfea if Rosalind stayed locked away.

The world shifted when Farah learned that Rosalind had been released, had escaped. Before seeing it herself in the tunnels below her office, she knew. Before Aisha frantically found Farah speaking with Ben and Saul, she knew.

A gentle gasp escaped from Farah as she stood at the top of the steps above where she had locked Rosalind away in stasis years ago. Farah stopped in her tracks, frozen to the spot momentarily. All she could do about what the emptiness before her symbolized was breathe. Farah stared in front of her as she took in a shaky breath.

Rosalind is free, wandering the grounds, putting Farah on edge again. At any moment, Rosalind’s hands might find her.

—

Farah felt the rough tugging of her hair, and her airway sealed shut as she struggled in Rosalind’s arms. In response, Rosalind sternly commanded, “Stop moving.”

Farah’s vision blurred, and she had an instinct that her hearing was also about to go. Just as she was about to pass out, Rosalind’s voice rang out and echoed as if it were far away. “Breathe.” And when Farah does breathe, Rosalind’s hard eyes bore into hers with desire.

Rosalind loved to see how long Farah could hold out—how long she’d let Rosalind suffocate her. How far could Rosalind execute her hold over Farah? Until death, apparently. This pleased her.

As Farah choked out strangled moans, her head continued to be fuzzy, her cheeks warm and pulsing with every beat of her heart. Farah’s inhales were raspy—strained and loud in the room as Rosalind traced the bruising under Farah’s jaw.

The markings from the strangulation were always reminders of her victories. It was almost as if Rosalind brought Farah back to life time and time again, making sure Farah’s life revolved around her only. She had the power to end Farah whenever she liked. Rosalind got off on tasting the almost fading life beneath her body.

And, oh, how Farah liked it too. That was a surprise to Rosalind at first. Farah seemed uptight, even when she was younger and had considerably less responsibility. Rosalind began to notice the signs of arousal on Farah when the older woman entered the room—how Farah wanted Rosalind’s approval and attention. Rosalind found it annoying until she realized she could make use of it. She could enjoy it, even. Rosalind reveled in testing if Farah would sneak around the school with her, if Farah would bend her ethics for Rosalind’s affection and praise.

The bucking of Farah’s hips drew a guttural moan from Rosalind’s own pink mouth. Farah’s desperation for release rivaled her desperation for air. Rosalind move her own pelvis against Farah’s, studying how the younger woman beneath her reacted. Farah trembles and shakes at the contact, gesturing for more.

Rosalind backs away for only a moment to marvel at the band of bruises wrapped around Farah’s neck and collarbones. Farah didn’t seem to be wheezing and gasping any longer, but Rosalind had an idea to remedy that.

With her long, leather-detailed coat still intact, Rosalind removed her undergarments and reached down to feel how slick her folds were after choking Farah.

An edge present in her voice, Rosalind offers for Farah to taste what she’s done. Rosalind climbs atop Farah and sits on her pale, flushed face. Farah’s arms were too weak to grip Rosalind’s legs and spread the woman’s folds herself. That didn’t matter to Rosalind. Instead, she lowered herself onto Farah, resting her full weight against Farah’s mouth.

“Get to work, Farah. I’m waiting.”

Farah laps up Rosalind’s wetness before locating and sucking on Rosalind’s clit with what little breath and strength she had left. Farah would prefer this over cool air on her tongue.

—

Bloom tried to tell Farah that Rosalind wasn’t a monster, that she had a reason to lie. Farah felt warm rage spill under her skin. Even as Farah yearned to shut down the conversation in any way possible to focus on the tasks at hand, she found herself responding in a heated but measured tone.

“Rosalind gave you just enough information to string you along. She's manipulating you. It's what she does.” Finally, it all clicked. Rosalind pulled down the school’s defenses from the Stone Circle, allowing the Burned Ones in. Farah couldn’t tell if she was pleased she was right about Rosalind or crushed that once again Rosalind proves that she will be relentless in getting what she wants even if it hurts others. Even if it hurts Farah.

Later when Farah catches Bloom, she has to reconcile the fact that Rosalind was right. She was correct about Bloom’s ancient power being able to defeat the Burned Ones. Her methods though… Farah reassured herself that her stance was unwavering. Even if Rosalind’s information was correct, her motives were not. Surely that was enough evidence to suggest Farah was vindicated in her actions since the start of term.

Still, it pained Farah to recount how Bloom had spent one night with Rosalind and unlocked ancient fairy magic, magic everyone thought was lost. Farah had to push through the instinct to be envious that Rosalind considered Bloom special. With a shake of her head, Farah thought about how Bloom was special and that she wouldn’t let Rosalind taint her relationship with Bloom.

Unsurprised by their eventual reuniting, Farah’s eyes were distant when she heard Rosalind’s judgmental voice. “You buried them. How noble.” Her tone was degrading. Rosalind always perceived Farah’s humanity as a weakness. Not wanting her back to Rosalind, Farah turned to face the woman she had so much history with. Farah was thankful to be wearing a turtleneck at this meeting, not wanting her bare skin to catch Rosalind’s eyes.

Throughout their exchange, Rosalind tried various manipulation tactics on Farah. Mysteriously withholding knowledge, acting exhausted by Farah’s behavior, centering her version of events…

Finally, after no luck in her efforts to control Farah, Rosalind gets to the point, “I fear you lack the composure to lead the next generation into it.” If she couldn’t persuade Farah to get close to her again, she had no use for Alfea’s current headmistress.

Farah finally takes the bait, sits beside Rosalind, and retorts, “And there it is. Once I stepped out from under your shadow, I saw a world full of light. Turns out this place isn't miserable. It was just you.” The two women were mere inches away from each other. Eyes found lips found eyes found lips. Their conversation turned breathy as Rosalind pulled another tactic into the conversation—Queen Luna and Andreas.

“So…” Rosalind shifts her body closer to Farah, “now all we have to talk about is you. I think you should take a sabbatical. Head to the mountains. Take a break.” Rosalind made her voice husky and entrancing now, knowing it used to be one of Farah’s weaknesses. The final nail in the coffin was uttered, “You've worked so hard, Farah.”

Praise. Gods, Farah used to melt and become moldable when Rosalind praised her. However, this time, when Rosalind tried it, Farah decided it was her turn to grab at Rosalind.

In all the confidence and defiance she could muster, she looked into Rosalind’s eyes and emphasized, “I am the headmistress of Alfea. And there's no way I'm leaving the school in your hands.”

With their faces so close that their noses were about to touch, Farah pulled away, determined not to fall back into old ways with Rosalind.

As if things were still going according to plan, Rosalind let slip, “I know that…” At this, Farah stopped in her tracks. She had heard this tone before, usually right before pain mixed with pleasure.

Rosalind stands and the crunching of leaves indicate that she walks closer to Farah. A familiar sensation creeps around Farah’s neck.

—

Rosalind came up behind Farah, pressing her body against the younger woman’s back. Rosalind’s voice whispered in Farah’s ear as she reached around to grab her throat. Rosalind’s other hand hiked up Farah’s pencil skirt and slid her fingers under the waistline of Farah’s panties.

“You were quite loud last time. Naughty, aren’t you?” Slow, husky words wrapped around Farah’s head and into her ears.

Already feeling like a live electrical wire in the rain from Rosalind’s touch, Farah would try, truly try to keep her choked gasps silent, but she knew it would be impossible. Her next inhale whistles through her constricted airway, and her lips already start to gape. Farah’s eyes flutter, and she cannot help but move her hips—hard and already desperate—against Rosalind’s hand lingering over Farah’s vulva.

Whimpering the best she can with Rosalind’s hand at her throat, Farah bucks forward towards the woman’s other hand, eager to feel the contact against her throbbing wetness. Feeling merciful, Rosalind relents. She thrusts two fingers into the writhing form in front of her. It wasn’t long before Rosalind decided to add another finger, stretching out Farah. Feeling the clear physical evidence of Rosalind’s influence over Farah was quite exciting. Again, Rosalind wanted to push it, test it.

“Could you stay quiet while taking my fist, do you think?”

Farah’s walls tighten around Rosalind’s fingers as she starts to twitch more frequently and her throat spasms under Rosalind’s iron-tight grip. Used to their almost daily sessions, Farah was starting to crave the moments she would begin to slip away. She welcomes the familiar dark spots teasing at the edge of her vision and the way her lungs begged for relief.

Farah’s ears ring; her face throbs. Rosalind’s thrusts get harder and harder, her grip gets tighter and tighter. A pool of hot white pleasure begins to form at the base of Farah’s spine as her eyes roll back in her head.

All Farah wanted was to be filled by Rosalind, wanted to be Rosalind’s. She wanted Rosalind to admit to mutual feelings and claim Farah. With each pump in and out of Rosalind’s fingers, Farah almost inaudibly wheezed, “I’m yours, yours, yours, yours.”

Tongue hanging out, drooling, mindless, and mine, Rosalind thought satisfactorily. Farah sags back against Rosalind, her muscles losing their strength with the continued restriction of oxygen.

Edging Farah on the precipice of unconsciousness, Rosalind finally releases her white-knuckled grip on Farah’s throat. She calculates the perfect amount of pressure to keep Farah submissive and constricted but awake. Rosalind continues to pound her fingers into Farah, making contact with the tender spot internally that she knew Farah liked. Farah’s eyes flicker until Rosalind takes her thumbnail and flicks it sharply against Farah’s sensitive, swollen clit.

What would have been a cry of pleasure and pain, is stifled by Rosalind’s hand that had moved from Farah’s red, marked neck to cover her mouth. Rosalind feels the other woman’s rasps against her palm, begging to be let out as Farah comes.

Rosalind bites down on the earlobe of the woman coming undone before her. She then breathes in Farah’s ear, “You’re mine? What makes you think I want you?”

—

“The rest of the world might believe it…” Farah is hoisted up by Rosalind’s magic, feeling the echoes of Rosalind’s hands at her throat.

“And if they don’t,” Rosalind continues, “what the fuck are they gonna do about it?”

[marigoldwriter]

Chronology of my Stellatrix AU

Current Timeline: The events of the 1rd and 2rd seasons occur normally, with some changes to the characters' speeches or actions, but the vast majority remain the same. Things start to change with the events of the 3rd (non-existent) season.

The Plum Organization ➯ In Stella's search for Beatrix's sisters, she discovers a secret organization of witches, and by herself, discovers that Beatrix's entire family is made up of witches, and that Beatrix's disappearance as a baby was news which changed the course of the witch covens hidden around the Magical Dimension. It is discovered that Beatrix's family has an important status in wizarding society.

The First Circle of Almana: Penances ➯ Beatrix awakens in the world of souls with issues to be resolved, Penances, the first circle of the spiritual plane, in which she is taken by Charon to an island where she discovers a little crystal witch girl who is between life and death, and so, the two go on a mission to descend to the next circles of Almana.

Ghostly Conversations ➯ Stella secretly joins forces with Beatrix's sisters, even though they have their resentment against Solaria, to find a way to bring Beatrix back, in which the three try to make contact with Bea's spirit, but strangely, they managed to speak to former members of the Solarian Royal Family.

The Second Circle of Almana: Limbo ➯ The paths between the opening Gates to the next circle are long, but when they reach the second circle, they discover that the place is a desert of black sand and tormented souls that wander moaning and dragging themselves in every corner, from there, they they need to meet the leading Entity of that circle, just as they did in the first circle. In this circle, both go through many challenges, escaping from souls that are strangely obsessed with Beatrix, and that stick to her skin until the end of the journey, where both are instructed by the Entity to move forward.

Corpse Internal Freezing Spell ➯ In the middle of the night, a superior order orders that one of the coffins be removed in silence and without much fuss, this coffin is involved in a kind of rustic magic that has not been used for a long time, magic that preserved the body inside this coffin, and this body which has been carefully moved to an unknown location. Or, in the period before finding Bea's sisters, Stella found a spell in an old book in the Royal Archive and applied it to Beatrix's body, then, a few months into their partnership, Stella, Isobel and D'arcy took the cup of Bea to one of the structures of one of the covens, in this case, the Daniels Coven.

The Labyrinth Purgatory ➯ Beatrix and the little witch girl come to an ordeal to go to the next circle, both are tormented and haunted by nightmares and memories of their lives. In this situation, Beatrix discovers that the little witch's name is Sapphire and that she has two older sisters.

Annual Golden Leaf Ball ➯ The heirs of all the kingdoms of the Magical Dimension come together in a huge gathering that ends with Eraklyon declaring war on Solaria, and ties hastily formed between some heirs. Stella discovers that she is not alone when it comes to liking someone who is "unreachable" when it comes to romance.

Tranquility Bay ➯ The labyrinth was the difficult part, now, when Beatrix and Sapphire pass through rocks and some flying specters, the Bay is visible, from there, the souls leave and go to the Garden, there, Beatrix finds a familiar face: "Headmistress Farah?"

Where the Living Live ➯ Luna attempts peace deals as the king of Eraklyon screams about an unworthy throne and stolen territories, he gives a war cry and the soldiers mercilessly march to the Golden Land, where the inhabitants are taken to reinforced underground shelters, Stella is far away, going to Andros to ask for help with supplies for an innocent population.

"Miss D?" ➯ Dowling guides Beatrix and Sapphire through the Bay, Beatrix doesn't know how to act around the older woman, who seems to feel no resentment, when the two tell her of their common goal, Farah is shocked, "How did you two get through the other circles? That's it's– technically, it should be, impossible", none of them can explain it, just as they can't explain the butterflies that have followed Beatrix for so long, just as they can't explain why the paths seem to be in their favor, both continue until the Third Circle, with Beatrix muttering a small "I'm sorry" before leaving, her soul lighter and cleaner.

A Golden Queen ➯ The Ghosts continue to haunt even in times of war, and they know Stella's weakness, the ancestors of the Solarian royalty are secretive and manipulative, Stella fears becoming identical to all of them in the future to come, little does she know self defense, but fights with everything she can, the treaty of wars is clear, only magic, no weapons, 'it's like medieval times' she thinks when see the swords clashing and the blood drying on the ground, a strange feeling pricking her chest, that's when Stella has the first memory of her first past life.

Pantheon of Gods ➯ The Third Circle is empty, a sea of nothingness that makes Sapphire's hopes evaporate as quickly as they arose, Beatrix shows indignation and anger, but all she has left are tears to be cried, she does not want to continue So, she wants her heart to beat again, life was horrible but for the first time she feared what she might lose, she cries softly for Stella, even though she knows she won't be heard by the princess, when the fog on the ground gets thick, they both know that there is something wrong, when a thin layer shines and shines beneath them, the Gods are close, more than one could imagine.

The Holy Grail and the Saint(?) of Light ➯ Stella's memories are mixed up with those of her past life, at one point she is Star, the first saint of the Golden kingdom, with golden eyes and eight-pointed stars in place of pupils, with veils and silks adorning her as much as gold jewelry, the other point she is Stella, current princess of Solaria, whose spirits now haunt her, who is in the middle of a war, the memories confuse her, but do not distract her, they are like lived dreams, in one of these she sees, the Holy Grail, herself, she when Star, bent over in tears of gold, filling the Holy Grail, when Stella opens her eyes, she sees herself in front of that cup, in a dark place, the Royal Archive, the cup glows with golden liquid, and Stella knows what to do.

Third Circle of Almana: The Eternal Garden ➯ Surprise invades Beatrix when she finds herself lying in grass, there is a voice in her head as she nervously stands up, looking for Sapphire,"The spirits rest here, child, but you are far from come to peace.", The female voice was soft and deep at the same time, Beatrix didn't move, she stood still, waiting for any other speech, "What do you want, little one? The Garden is at your disposal.", there is a sad feeling inside the redhead when she sits on the grass again, she is exhausted, she doesn't want anything, she wants her, "You can't give me what I want. Who I want.", the woman's voice sighs, "Don't you remember who It's been a day, hasn't it, child?", Beatrix's tears stop, she doesn't understand, and the Goddess's voice continues to ring in her ears, "You need to go back."

The Return of the Saint ➯ Stella's birth was marked by a meteor shower, it was to be expected that she was destined for great things, so Luna thought, but when the guards found Stella leaving the Royal Archives in the middle of the night, her eyes different color, they were scared, the feeling they described was of a pure aura of superiority, the other day, Stella glowed, she shone confident and proud, like a translucent golden aura, she transformed into another person overnight, Luna thinks. Or, Stella has recovered the memories of her past life.

[To be continued...]

[readingwithrhia]

General Dowling

General Dowling

  Farah Dowling x Doppelgänger Daughter Reader.

Summary: Farah Dowling has a daughter named Fiona who was taken by Rosalind during the Aster Dell conflict. Rosalind had Fiona Trained as a specialist growing up who moved up in ranks; to be Queen Luna’s General in the Solarian army. What if Fiona discovers that she is a Mind fairy (like her mom) and in need of help controlling her magic that has become a bit dangerous?

TW warning ⚠️ Mentions of seizure induced headaches/ epilepsy. Sensitive topics, angst, cursing and yelling. You have been warned.

Fiona was running with her fairy Piper out in the woods, during Solaria’s annual training excursion with her unit. Fiona’s fear was running deep within her, as the two women were being chased by an overly large Burned one that reached an easy Seven feet tall. “WE NEED TO KEEP GOING! PIPER TRY AND USE YOUR MAGIC TO BLIND SIDE THE BURN ONE!” Fiona shouted while running with her bonded mate, Piper nodded then flung a ball of light at the tall beast that was chasing them. The creature let out a horrific screech that alerts the camp that they were closing in on. Fiona’s soldiers gathered outside heavily armed outside their tents ready to fit the giant, on Fiona’s orders all hell broke loose, and her battalion started fighting with the fairy’s. Fiona somehow managed to jump onto the back of the burned and sliced it with her dagger before backing down to protect Piper. Piper’s eyes glowed brightly searching for the burned one’s heart, and finally killed it. Fiona’s chest heaved heavily while trying to let oxygen into her lungs, the voices of her soldiers returned in her head causing her to grip her head. Piper walked over to Fiona very concerned for her soulmate, feeling her mate come near her Fiona backed up eyes glowing a silver white identical to her mother Farah’s eye when she used her magic. Piper caught General Dowling as she started having a seizure due to Rosalind making Fiona suppress her own magic, Piper sighs as her specialist turned fairy had another seizure episode. She was glad Rosalind was gone once and for all. Medics rushed to help assist their young General as she violently seized while her magic went erratic along the way, while Fiona came down from her seizure. Piper grabbed her cellphone to text the last person Fiona wanted to hear from, Farah Dowling, clicking on her future mother in law’s contact information and then called Farah.

            Farah was in the middle of demonstrating a magic exercise down in the stone circle with her last class of the day, “Power plays on emotion, good emotions, bad, sad, angry. With this task-.” Farah stated before the ringing of her cellphone interrupted her speech. “Excuse me one moment, Farah Dowling speaking.” Farah said while walking off to the side of the stone circle to take her daughter-in-law’s call, Piper took a deep breath before answering Farah. “Farah, it’s Fiona… She’s been having magic induced seizures and doesn’t have control over her powers. We really need your help mum; Fiona can’t live like this anymore. Not since Rosalind manipulated her into leaving Alfea, and not since our daughter was taken.” Piper said almost begging for Farah’s help, Farah rubbed her face in worry and fear. “ Bring General Dowling here to the greenhouse, we’ll keep her sedated until her episode is over.”  Farah explained her plan while mentally preparing herself, to try and undo Rosalind’s manipulation damage on her daughter. Piper sighs while taking deep breath’s trying not to sob in relief  to get the old mother and daughter duo back, “ we’ll be there in an hour through the cemetery gateway. Meet us there with a stretcher.” Piper comments. Farah nodded before turning to dismiss her class, “ Will do.”

“ This should be an interesting few months.” Farah thought while biting the inside of her cheek.

[] COMMENT IF YOU WANT A PART TWO !! []

[septemberrie]

Happy Birthday Astrid!

@astrid-v​ hello you are SUPER COOL and bring the fandom together with your fusion of old school fandom lore with new school fandom quirks. No one quite embraces both old & new in fandom like do you, while also rock climbing and biking and e-scootering and arts-ing and chilling with your kitty cat. 💕

I didn’t quite have the time to put together some quality whump for you but I thought I’d at least share the other fic I started for my HEX before I changed course. It’s based on, I believe, your own prompt idea of how Farah comes back in s3: 

Maybe he should burn this place. A fresh start. Andreas burned down his house. Maybe he’ll burn down Farah’s office too. Then he’ll stop being fucking reminded of her.

Yeah, right.

The liquor cabinet is unlocked; he’s sure the spell died with the old hag but it’s not like he had the chance to try until now. Between Luna clawing up his ass and Bloom leading a trail of chaos in her wake, his bones feel like he hasn’t stopped moving in a week.

He pours himself a double shot, then adds a third. It’s not like he’s driving tonight. Even if he doesn’t pass out at this desk he can at least stumble to Harvey’s cottage and sleep there. Slowly he twirls the glass, lifting it to catch the light that spills in the stained glass window from the outdoor lights that line the training pitch.

He halfheartedly raises it into a toast before stopping halfway up. There’s no one left to toast. Sky, maybe, being patched up by Terra and likely Bloom somewhere he doesn’t deserve to know. Harvey himself, out there somewhere. Him, Saul, for somehow making it through tonight.

And then—

The first sip burns his throat but he takes another instead of coughing. He leans back and props his feet up on the desk. If he drinks it fast enough, he won’t have to think; he’ll just sleep. Even though he knows it’s going to be a shitty sleep. A sleep he’s had two years of before pulling himself together.

Well.

Even that he can’t fully take credit for. She’d been there. On Day One and on Day Seven Hundred Sixty Something, which led to a new Day One without the taste of whiskey.

Cheers to that, then.

Cheers to not being able to say goodbye not once, but two fucking times.

It burns his throat and also his nose and also his eyes because how in the seven fucking realms is that fair. The first time, handcuffed in the back of a Solarian transport truck. The second time, doing fuck-all with getting Luna off of his ass and out of Alfea.

Both times, no more than a five minute walk away.

Both times, not aware until it was too fucking late.

The burning in his eyes won’t stop so he takes a bigger sip. It doesn’t singe his throat at all anymore. Maybe he’s numb.

That’d be easier, of course. He wouldn’t feel the whiskey sitting in his empty stomach and he wouldn’t feel the cool glass in his hand and he wouldn’t feel the uncomfortable wooden chair the cunt preferred and he wouldn’t feel the jagged chasm in his chest where Farah Dowling belongs.

He stares at the glass, the way the amber liquid sloshes in his shaking hands. And then he hurls it as hard as he can against the wall.

And then, because there’s nothing else to do, he stands up and pours himself another glass.

So he almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door. A trick of his hearing, he thinks; maybe the glass fell oddly. But then it comes again, a soft rap against the outer glass.

“Come in,” he says, because politeness takes over. Only when the door swings open, revealing the fiery ginger hair of Bloom, does he realize he was too wrapped up in his own head to turn on a light. He’s sitting in the dark with a bottle of whiskey.

“Mr… Silva?”

“You can turn on a light,” Saul says.

She does.

The shattered whiskey glass is somewhere to her right, his left; he can see the liquid reflecting in the overhead light when he stands.

“Is Sky—”

“Sky’s fine,” Bloom says quickly. “I, um, did something.”

He fights the urge to exhale, huff, to indicate any fraction of the frustration at Bloom’s unending desire to right the wrongs of last year. At this point, he wants time to sit alone and sulk. “Yes?”

“Ever since I met Sebastian at the diner I’ve been thinking about the Dragon Flame and what it is and what it means…” She takes a few hesitant steps closer into the office. “And I don’t want it anymore. It’s so much trouble.”

It’s not lost on Saul that this would be the perfect opportunity for her to speak to Farah. He’s the headmaster of Specialists; he’s never been magical and with Farah at his side he’s never particularly felt the need to learn more about it, because she always handled the magical element of Alfea so well.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he says diplomatically.

“Well, Flora had an idea and I just kind of did it on a whim not thinking it would actually help but, um… you remember the convergence crystal?”

“I thought it broke in your fight with Sebastian.”

“Yeah. Well. Dragon Flame,” she says with a shrug and an apologetically coy smile. “I only needed a piece of it. And I…”

Words seem to fail her. If he were less exhausted, less grief-stricken, Saul might try to piece together where her mind was going, but as it is his mind is utterly blank.

“Flora suggested I use it on the plant in which we found Farah’s life force.”

He still doesn’t quite understand what she’s getting at, although his body seems to because he stops breathing.

“Um, so… I have to show you something.”

What she says next is a blur, as is the path it takes to get from the office to the Winx suite.

He can’t believe it. Farah’s dwelled in his dreams for so long that she doesn’t look real in the harsh light of the dormitory’s kitchen. The Farah in his nightmares doesn’t lean forward on an overstuffed couch, face drawn and her hair white as bone. She doesn’t hold a mug of tea that reads water fairies do it better like she’s clutching it for dear life. And, when he falls to his knees in front of her, she’s never, ever felt like flesh and blood and real.

“Saul.”

“Farah. It’s really you?”

Her smile falters at that, and she opens her mouth a few times but it’s like the words fail her. She looks at Bloom, an almost pleading look that confuses Saul because when has his fairy ever needed anything from anyone?

And Bloom coughs on the armrest beside Farah. “Turns out… there was a cost. I brought her back but without her magic.”

[theyhaveacavetroll]

Farah protecting Saul please?

If a dead woman dies in a graveyard and only her sworn enemy is there to notice, was she ever alive to begin with?

There is a fight happening in the graveyard, silent but devastating nonetheless, and Farah Dowling is losing. She was always going to lose. Her head throbs with pain, her heart pounds in her chest, her hands shake -

"Saul would have been a problem, but he'll be on trial for the murder of Andreas. Sorry - attempted murder. Poor Andreas - it can't have been easy, staying in hiding for so long -"

Bitch, Farah thinks, and her hand is hers to control again. Her muscles are her own. There is clarity and strength once more, lent her by the spike of rage she feels unfurling in her gut.

There is a knife on her belt, right where Saul had insisted she carry one.

Saul is in danger, and Andreas is alive but stolen from them all, kept in hiding for sixteen years. Saul. Andreas. Her boys.

Rosalind is not expecting it when Farah stabs her in the heart. The older woman gasps, tries to pull away, tries to fall back - and Farah hates, hates that she can see the pride in her eyes when Farah stabs her again, viciously, with all her weight and all of her fury in the gesture. Cartilage crunches. Blood spurts, hot and wet, and Farah presses harder, pulls out, and stabs again.

Three times, to be sure.

"Perhaps I - was wrong. Good girl," Rosalind whispers with her dying breath, and Farah can't scream. She musn't scream - musn't bring anyone running to this place to see what she's just done, but she wants to. She wants to scream, wants to run, wants to do anything except standing here, watching the light leave Rosalind's eyes before she beheads her for good measure.

Nothing left to chance this time. Nothing resting beneath their feet like a ticking bomb. No more. Not ever again. She buries the body and then, taking hold of the head, she walks toward the school.

Two hours later:

Saul emerges from the van into the light of day and blinks.

This is not prison. This is Alfea, and there, standing ready to greet him, is -

"Farah." He's never been more relieved in his life, and, from the look on her face, neither has Farah. He can see it in the way her mouth turns upward, and in the way that her shoulders relax just a fraction. She smiles at him, and takes two steps forward, reaching out with both hands to take his hands in her own.

"Saul," she answers. "Are you alright?"

The guards remove the shackles they placed him in bare moments ago, and step away.

"I'm fine," Saul answers. He's grateful for the removal of the weighted iron cuffs, and even more grateful for the sound of the van pulling away, headed back to the prison without him in it. He's safe. He has no idea how, but Farah has worked a miracle. "What happened?" he asks, looking around him for the first time.

Andreas is standing to one side. Andreas is alive, and standing there, looking utterly shell-shocked. He's alive, Saul thinks again. Alive - not dead, not covered in his own blood at Aster Dell.

I didn't kill him, he thinks again. He's not entirely sure what to do with the information - not sure, either, that he believes his own eyes.

"You should be grateful for your Headmistress," Luna's voice intrudes, and Saul tears his attention away from the ghost standing in the courtyard and Beatrix Not-Daniels standing beside him, looking frightened and unsure.

"Your Majesty?" Saul asks.

There's something wrong, here, he thinks. Luna looks pale, Andreas looks - well, traumatized if he's honest, and Harvey - honest, dependable, unrufflable Ben Harvey - looks -

He looks relieved. No- more than relieved. He looks like he'd like to sleep for a week and then rise to dance in the streets. He's looking at Andreas with something approaching wonder and at Farah as if she's possibly the Goddess herself, and there's only one reason that would be.

Rosalind is dead, and they are all free. Farah truly has worked miracles.

"Oh," he says, dumbfounded, and Luna nods tightly.

"Yes," she answers. "Oh. Good day, Headmaster Silva. Headmistress."

She gets into the car. The caravan pulls away, and Saul is left standing in the courtyard, hands still in Farah's surrounded by the entire student body and the love of his life who has risen from the dead. His wrists hurt, and his heart is still pounding, and it is over. It is finally, finally over.

"Enough gawping, the lot of yous," he finally makes himself shout. He stands up straight, lets his gaze sweep over the mass of staring students, and steps into being Headmaster Silva again. "Get back to your tasks, go on! It was a funny five minutes, that's all!"

Sky does not retreat with the others. Saul's grateful for that, really, and at the same time he'd like a few seconds to collapse against something. He csn't do that with - with Andreas's son watching. He can't rest yet.

Farah has no such reservations. She waits only until the students have wandered away, heading back to their duties and the repairs to the school, to allow her grip on Saul's hands to become much less a welcoming clasp and more a desperate, clinging thing as she throws her arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry, Saul," she whispers. "I'm sorry. I should have been faster - I should have gotten back to the school sooner -"

He shakes his head, and wraps his arms around her in turn.

"I'm alright," he repeats. "Farah - it's ok. I'm not hurt. You did it. Mind telling me what it was you did?"

He can guess, really. There's blood on Farah, he can smell it now, can feel it soaking into his clothes. That tracks. Killing is a messy business, murder doubly so. She must be fucking drenched in it, soaked from head to toe, though he'd never know it to look at her.

Pretty fiction to hide an ugly truth, he thinks, and the thought tires him down to his bones.

"You can let it go now," he murmurs, and Farah releases the illusion covering her with a sigh. She pulls away, allowing Saul to see the full extent of the carnage.

Sky swears. Saul sighs, and Farah sags just a bit.

"Looks like it was a close one," Saul says, and Farah smiles.

"Not as close as she'd have liked it to be," she answers. "I used the head to convince Luna to back down."

There's fierce, grim determination in her voice and also the sort of joy he's rarely heard from her over the years. He smiles, and clasps her hands again.

"Good," he answers.

"Saul," Andreas says, and it's all Saul can do not to release Farah's hands. He turns to look at the man he's missed like a limb for the last sixteen years.

He looks - older, Saul thinks. Tired, with grey in his beard and crow's feet around his eyes and a bit of a paunch starting to form around his waist.

He looks like the most beautiful sight Saul's ever seen, and he would very much like to allow his treacherous, racing heart to rule him, but he cannot.

"Andreas," he acknowledges. "You look good for a dead man."

"You should know, you were the one that stabbed him," Beatrix snaps, and Saul -

Does not feel like someone just stabbed him in return. He can breathe. It's ok. For the first time in sixteen years, it's alright.

He smiles.

"He started it," he returns easily, and to his surprise, Andreas returns that smile.

"Yes, I did," he acknowledges, and Beatrix gapes.

"What?!" she demands, and Andreas sighs.

"Little Storm," he starts, then stops, seeming to search for words.

"I think what your father means is that Rosalind got in his head and scrambled things. She tended to do that," Saul says. He squeezes Farah's hands once more and then, at last, he turns toward Andreas properly, and toward the young woman his partner has seemingly raised in Saul's absence.

Beatrix does not look at Saul. Instead, she looks to her father, who bows his head.

"I don't know what the truth is anymore," he confesses. "I felt her die. When it happened - the moment she was gone, I -" He shakes his head. "I was - so angry, this morning," he says. "And when she died it disappeared. I don't understand."

"You remember Aster Dell?" Saul asks, and Andreas nods. "You remember what came before it?"

Andreas shakes his head.

"It's all a blur," he answers. Saul nods.

Andreas is alive. Rosalind has had hold of him all this time, messing with his head, and Saul stabbed him, but he's alive and they have a second chance.

They've taken his weapons, he realizes - carted them away, and for the moment, that's for the best. He takes a step toward Andreas. Andreas stays still, looking at him warily.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Saul says, and Harvey, behind him, sighs explosively.

"I'd fucking hope not," he says, and then he walks briskly past Saul and, opening his arms, he hugs Andreas firmly.

"We missed you so much," Ben says, voice trembling slightly. "I'm so glad you're not dead. Please don't run off again."

Andreas tenses. Andreas blinks, wide-eyed, and then, slowly, as if remembering how, Andreas bows his head, tucking it into Harvey's shoulder, and hugs his friend, gently at first and then harder, clinging for dear life. A single shudder travels through him, and Harvey holds him through it, clapping him on the shoulder and ruffling his hair.

"You're ok," he says, and Andreas gives a muffled laugh against his shoulder.

"Ben," he says. "I've missed you too." He clings for another moment and then pulls back, only to face Saul once again.

The moment of truth, Saul thinks. He stands, hands at his sides, not sure what to expect. He stabbed Andreas. He committed the worst crime of his entire life, and regardless of whether Andreas is alive, he still did that.

There's a scar on Andreas's forehead that Saul put there that day, staring at him like an accusatory finger and he can't make himself cross the distance. He wants to run. He wants to turn tail and flee, leave Alfea and his past - their past - behind him, but Sky is right here and Andreas is looking at him like he can't believe his eyes any more than Saul.

"Did you miss me?" he asks, in a voice that's barely more than a whisper, and it's all the incentive that Saul needs. With a half-swallowed sob, he throws his arms around Andreas and tries to blink the tears out of his eyes to no avail.

Andreas remembers how to hug much faster this time.

He still smells the same. His arms still feel like home, and his beard still scratches against Saul's carefully trimmed stubble exactly right.

"I missed you, you great lummox," Saul murmurs, and Andreas grips his shoulders tighter - tight enough to hurt. Saul can't bring himself to care.

"I'm sorry, Saul, I'm so sorry," Andreas pleads, and Saul grips him tighter.

"I've wanted you home every minute of every day, I never should have stabbed you," he apologizes. "I should've fought better, I should have knocked you out or -"

"I threw the fight," Andreas interrupts him.

Wait. What?

Saul pulls back. He stares at Andreas, startled.

"You did what?"

Farah touches their shoulders, and both men startle.

"Let's take this inside," she suggests.

[djino04]

Difficulty breathing

Day 10 of @febuwhump with theme : “difficulty breathing”

Summary : Missing scene from Saul's escape

POV Bloom

Andreas, Riven and Dane have just left, but Aisha has advised us to wait a few more minutes, just in case they decide to turn back. Headmaster Silva still has enough oxygen in the bubble to last underwater and Musa is keeping a close eye on him so we can take action if needed. Each minute passes slowly as I stop myself from moving. I don't like standing still, especially when I know someone I know is suffering. I don't need to have Musa's power to know that with arrows in his back, the headmaster must be in pain. 

I fidget a little but stop when I see the dark look on Aisha's face. I think they have been gone long enough for us to move. I'm about to say it but it's finally Musa who beats me to it and ends our long wait: 

"We have to get him out, he's starting to have trouble breathing."

We exchange a brief look, then stand up as one before we all start running. The running doesn't stop Aisha from responding: 

"Yet he still has enough oxygen in the bubble."

No one has time to wonder more as we get close to the shore. Terra stopped a little before, near a rock to take out the few things she brought. We expected the headmaster to be slightly injured from his time in prison, not shot with a bow. So I'm not sure if she has what it takes to treat him. But anyway, we need to get him out of the water first, there will be no need to heal him if he dies from drowning. 

Aisha dives into the water while Musa and I wait nervously by the side. I try to see where they are but the water is too rough and not clear enough for me to make out anything. I breathe a sigh of relief when Aisha finally breaks through the water, all the while helping the headmaster stay afloat. I hear him cough, which is a pretty good sign, right? It means he's still breathing. 

I take a few steps into the river to help Aisha and headmaster Silva. The second I reach them, I grab the specialist's arm to put it over my shoulders and support some of his weight. I try not to look at the arrows sticking out of his back, or listen to his harsh, ragged breathing. With each step we take, he leans a little more against us. He tries to hold back his moans of pain, but he can't quite manage it. I can't really blame him, he just got out of jail, then got shot before jumping off a cliff and spending about ten minutes in cold water. I don't expect him to be in great shape after all that. 

We finally get out of the water, not without difficulty, and Terra signals us: 

"Bring him here, we have to lay him on his belly so that I can remove the arrows."

We advance as best we can. The headmaster tries to walk but he doesn't quite succeed, his gestures are not coordinated. And although he seems to have lost weight, he is still heavier than Aisha or me. Nevertheless, we manage to bring him to the flat place designated by Terra. I can hear him talking in a low voice with Musa: 

"I am not surprised Musa. Aunt Farah has put up mental barriers to Dad and Uncle Saul. Now that I've met Rosalind, I understand why..."

"Yes, but I can't take her pain with that barrier and I don't want to try to break it either. I'll do more harm than good."

Clearly, I'm not the only one who heard the discussion because headmaster Silva responds with difficulty: 

"It's going... to be okay... girls... No need... for... that..."

Terra helps us lay her down as she speaks to her: 

"Shh, don't talk Uncle Saul. One of the arrows must have punctured one of your lungs. I'll take care of it, you just need to concentrate on your breathing."

It always feels so weird when I remember that Terra, Sam and Sky grew up together and with headmistress Dowling, headmaster Silva and Professor Harvey. It reminds me that our teachers have lives too and that they are not just teachers. It makes them more human. Also, if the specialist is Sky's father, that means he might become my stepfather. It's strange to think about that. I don't really have time to think about it much more because Terra asks us: 

"Hold his shoulders. I'm going to have to pull the arrows out and we don't want him to move."

We do as she asks and I can feel headmaster Silva extremely tense. His eyes are closed, his fists clenched, and he bites his lip as Terra quickly does her work. Despite this, soft moans pass the barrier of his lips. I can only imagine how he must feel as the foreign body is forcibly removed from his body and we have nothing to ease the pain. Musa moved away from us, certainly because she could not stand the pain of the headmaster. She can't seem to take the pain away from him, but she can feel it very well.

Although the arrows are now removed, I know it's not over. Terra still has to treat the internal and external injuries and I hear it's quite painful, although I'm lucky enough not to have had that treatment yet. I don't really know what I can do to help the headmaster through this. I can't see myself comforting him by stroking his hair or anything like that. I don't think he would appreciate it in the least. It is finally himself who answers my problem by asking: 

"How...is...Sky?"

So I start chatting, telling him how Sky is doing and what happened while he was away. Talking this I know how to do very well and if it helps him get through the pain by giving him something to focus on, then so much the better.

[noomieeagle]

Hello it's me, your HEX anon bringing questions! 💗 (Elaborate as much or as little you like. "I'm not sure" and "I'm okay with either" are more than fine.)

💙 How do you feel about winter/holiday theme?

🤍 Exactly how fluffy you'd like this to be? Do you prefer more realistic cute moments that easily fit into canon/their busy lives or would you like me to squeeze them in an extra sugary box (i.e. luxurious exotic vacation, wedding, honeymoon.....)?? (Or would something in between?)

❄️ Tell me if there are any tropes you absolutely can't stand (i.e. pregnancy).

💜 Just checking, since your character list included only Farah and Saul, does that still stand? Would you mind other characters appearing? Perhaps kids (i.e. toddler Sky) for the fluffiness?

❄️ Do you have any preferences when it comes to timeline? As in I'd like to see them happy after Farah is back or I want to know how they met 20 years ago or I want them old and retired or.....???

💙 Your genres were fluff and smut, how do you feel about humour (as long as it isn't completely a crack) and would you mind if there was a minor inconvenience which leads to (lots) of softness?

Hi dear HEX anon friend!

I'm sooooo sorry to answer this late, but I've been so busy lately. 😭

Thank you for being so caring about my gift 🥺🫶

💙 Well, I'm at ease with winter. Like, I can imagine Saul and Farah (and maybe Ben) drinking coffee in front of a fireplace while snow's falling outside. But you can imagine another context, I like pretty much everything~ 🥰

🤍 I'd rather choose the canon moments~

❄️ I don't like pregnancy as you said—I prefer Silva and Dowling to be parent figure for Sky and maybe Bloom~

💜 You can absolutely include Sky and other characters, as long as Silrah is endgame, you can include any character! 🩵🩷

❄️ I agree with you when you say you'd like to seem them happy after Farah is back! I'm still mad at the show for not including a single scene between Saul and Farah's spirit. Like wtf?? So I'd like to read a cute scene between them after her coming back. 🥺

💙 You can include humour, for instance they can tease each other, and I trust you not to make it too prominent in your work! 🫶 But I especially want fluff and a bit of smut. 💖

Thank you for everything and sorry again for the lack of response before. ><

[ofherdowlingohara]

“No,Ms Dowling. You haven’t caused me offense.” Came Wednesday’s monotonous voice, as she stared at Farah. “I feel slightly more comfortable here than at Nevermore. If I’m being honest.” Confessed Wednesday before she paused, looking any where but Farah. The teenager usually didn’t confess how she was truly feeling, but with Farah present, Wednesday felt more at home here at Alfea. “My last school, I was profitized by a Psychopath. Used as a key too unlock and bring back a dead pilgrim who burned witches and fairies alike. Not too mention that I played a role in Principal Weems’s death.” Wednesday further explained as she stood up to pace the room, her seat feeling like fire beneath her. When Wednesday mentioned Larissa, she made a funny noise with her throat.

Wednesday curiously looked around Farah’s office, she deemed it different from Larissa’s office. Standing carefully to look at nearby book shelves, Wednesday ran her fingers along the spines of Farah’s books. Spotting picture frames along the book shelf, Wednesday picked a photograph up as she attempted to listen to the adults taking. When the young fairy’s finger brushed over the photograph of Farah and who Wednesday presumed were the older woman’s children. Her head snapped back and Wednesday’s eyes rolled back into her head plagued by a vision of Farah’s death, and the release of some unidentifiable woman. Frightened Wednesday dropped the photograph and fell forward onto her hands and knees.

Farah’s first comment peaked Wednesday’s interest, the teenager mentally made a note to test this theory every chance she gets. “Oh really?” came the start of Wednesday’s reply as she glared murderously at Farah. “ ‘less of an oddity.’ Headmistress Dowling?” Asked Wednesday, feeling even more irritated than before.

“What Headmistress Dowling I believe is trying to say Wednesday is, that she’s trying to give you a fresh start. Something that Larissa tried to give you at Nevermore, after you set those piranhas after those boys at your old school. You have attempted murder charges against you Wednesday, how would that look on your record?” Morticia explained very lightly to her temperamental daughter. Wednesday’s look was very unreadable now, “horrible, it means I didn’t finish the job correctly.” replied the air fairy dryly.

[specialagentlokitty]

Saul Silva/Farah x Teen!reader - never lost hope

Hello! I have a request for Silva/Dowling xTeen Reader story. They had a child once and it disappeared (like Bloom was taken in the first world) and now they found R and bring back to Alfea, telling R the truth. I dont know if you want to write it. - Anon💜

They never lost hope, even after 17 years of having nothing, Saul and Farah never lost hope when it came to trying to find their child.

Sometimes it felt hopeless, and sometimes they were sure they were close, but they still held out hope that somewhere in the otherworld or the first world you were out there and you were safe.

After confirming you were in fact not in the otherworld, they turned their attention to the first world, reaching out to anyone from the other world who lived there, any specialists or fairies that were there to help them.

All they had was a digitally created imagine of what you would roughly look like now, and that was it.

Until a few months ago when someone had sent them a picture.

It took a few days to compare and confirm, but they were sure it was you, and they reached out to the local police for help.

It was a slow process, but it was a huge lead, one they hadn’t had for years since you were a baby. 

But here you were, in a small town in Texas, growing up.

After emailing back and forth with your foster parents, they were finally invited to the home with police to monitor what was happening.

They weren’t sure if you knew or not, and as Farah and Saul were being escorted to your house in an unmarked car, the reality of the situation was starting to become clear.

“I’m sure it’s them.” Saul whispered.

“I know it is. It’s just if they’re willing to accept what’s really going on..” Farah whispered back.

Saul nodded his head because he knew she was right. If you refused to accept what was going on it would make everything a whole lot harder.

They pulled up into the driveway of a nice house where two men were waiting outside.

“James and Cody (L/N), (Y/N)s foster fathers.” The officer said.

The two nodded and climbed out of the car and walked over. The blonde male held out his hand.

“Saul and Farah I assume? I’m James.”

The black haired man held his hand out next.

“And I’m Cody, (Y/N) isn’t home right now so we can talk freely for a few hours.”

“Thank you so much for agreeing to this.” Farah sighed.

They were led inside and everyone sat down at the table and it was quiet for a moment.

“Oh we thought you might want to have this.” James said.

He got up and grabbed a binder and walked back over and handed it to them, showing them all the photos of you growing up in different places.

“(Y/N) was bounced about the system a little bit until they were 10, they’ve been with us since. We decided a few years later that we were going to wait until they were an adult to decide if they wanted to be adopted or try find well.. you two.”

They carried on talking and discussing your life, things that Saul and Farah had missed but were glad you could experience.

You saw the strange car in the driveway but you didn’t pay much attention to it as you barrelled through the front door, the Doberman behind you barking as he ran through too.

“Bodi dinner!” You yelled.

The dog barked and jumped up and down at the kitchen doorway.

You jogged through and grabbed his bowl to give him his dinner, and you held it up.

Bodi sat down and wagged his tail happily, waiting for you to place it down and walk away before he dived at it.

“(Y/N) can you come here please?” Kody called.

You mumbled out a reply around the apple you were eating and poked your head through the doorway, waving your hair.

Saul and Farah stared at you.

You were so grown up, just like the picture they had of you.

You walked in, leaning against the doorframe.

“And what have you been doing?” James chuckled.

He gestured for you to come over and he pulled a chair in front of him for you to sit down while you ate your apple and he picked things from your hair and shirt.

“Mr Riddon, needed help on the ranch, so I went to help, and I was climbing the haystack.” You beamed happily.

You looked at the officer standing in the back of the room.

“Hi officer Marks.”

“Hello (Y/N), been keeping out of trouble?” He smiled.

“I wanna say yes. But you’re here so yes?”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“Am not here for you kiddo don’t worry. Just here to talk to Kody and James.”

You turned to the new people in the room, and you smiled softly at them.

They couldn’t help but smile back at you.

“Hi I’m (Y/N).”

“Saul silva.”

“Farah Dowling.”

You nodded your head and stood up.

“It’s nice to meet ya!”

You headed back to the kitchen to bin your apple and wash your hands before making your way back over and you moved the chair to sit next to your foster dad.

Bodi came padding over, and he sat next to you, resting his head on your leg as he looked up at you.

“Who’s that?” Saul asked softly.

“This is Bodi. He’s two. I found him under the porch a year ago.”

You looked at your foster parents.

“What’s going on?”

They shared a look and sighed softly, reaching out to take your hands in theirs.

“(Y/N), these.. these are your biological parents. You were taken from the hospital a few days after you were born.”

You furrowed your brows a little bit as you looked at them.

“We understand you’re confused, but we have everything from police reports, posters, some photos. If you want to look through them before we carry on talking.” Farah asked.

You nodded and she handed them over and you sat on the floor to look over them all.

Bodi laid next to you, resting his head on your legs as you ran your fingers through his fur while you read over everything.

No one said anything, and you set the final paper down after an hour and looked up.

“So.. I was just.. taken..?” You asked quietly.

Saul got up and walked over, crouching down in front of you, but shuffled back when your dog got up and growled at him.

Placing a hand in Bodi’s back to make him stop, you looked at the man.

“We had gone home to get some rest, and the hospital never told us until we got there the next day. We’ve spent a little over 17 years looking for you.”

Farah nodded her head and placed her hand on Saul’s shoulder.

“We never gave up, every summer and every Christmas we��d come looking for you. We had friends looking for you as well, it’s how we found you, but we wanted to speak to your foster parents before coming out.”

“You knew I was here?”

“We only found out a few months ago. If James and Kody weren’t okay with us coming out we would have waited until you were an adult before getting in contact with you. We didn’t want to overstep our boundaries, and we don’t want to now. Everything is in your hands.” Saul explained.

You slowly nodded your head and stood up, patting your hand against your thigh.

“I.. I need to go..”

Before anyone could stop you, you and Bodi were gone out the front door and Saul sighed, hanging his head low and Farah took his hand in hers.

“Just give them some time, I’m sure they’ll come around. Do you two have a place to stay?” Kody asked.

“No, we weren’t sure if we were going to be staying or not.” Farah sighed.

“Y’all can stay here, we got a spare room.” James smiled.

They spoke about it for a few moments before agreeing.

It was summer, and they still had some time until they had to go back to the school, the Saul and Farah agreed to stay.

You didn’t stay inside for the next week, you were always out, and they were finding it hard to talk to them.

Sitting on the fence, you watched the horses in the background while Bodi laid in the shade of your shadow.

“You need to give them a chance, they ain’t bad people.” Kody sighed.

“I know Kody it’s just… my whole life I wondered what it would be like to meet them.. it made it a whole lot easier just thinking they gave me up..”

He nodded his head.

“I understand that kiddo, but they’re really trying. They wanna get to know you.”

You sighed.

“I know…”

Kody pat your back and walked away to leave you sitting there, and you carried on watching the horses.

You heard someone else approach.

“You know I have horses..” Saul said quietly.

“Can you ride?”

“I can.” He nodded.

You turned around on the fence, looking at him and Farah.

Bodi got up, stretching a little as he sat down to look up at you.

“Can you?”

“I can stay hanging on if that counts.” She smiled.

You shrugged a little and looked back at the horses.

“Y’all probably can’t ride properly. If it ain’t the country way it’s the wrong way.”

“The country way?” Farah asked.

“Get James or Kody to bring the truck to the gate, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

They smiled and walked back to the house and you pointed to the other side of the fence for Bodi to crawl under and sit there.

You let out a loud whistle and one of the horses snapped it’s head towards you before running over, slowly to a walk as it got closer.

Running your fingers over the head of the brown horse you touched your head against the animals.

“Good girl.” You whispered.

Climbing on her back, you gently wove your fingers through her mane and clicked your tongue and she started to walk.

Bodi happily followed along, and as you got closer to the gate, you tapped her side with your hand, leaning forward and she broke into a slow run as you lead her through the gate.

“Bodi car.”

The Doberman barked and jumped into the truck bed and you stood next to it.

“Ready?” James asked.

“You bet.” You grinned.

Kody jumped in the tuck bed with Farah and Saul.

“Let’s go!” Kody yelled.

The truck drove slowly away, and you waited before you clicked your tongue again, letting the horse walk on to the grass next to the road.

Once she was on it you leant forward and tapped her side again, and she started to run.

You quickly caught up to the truck, and you cheered as you threw your hands into the air.

“Yes!” You yelled.

Saul and Farah smiled and laughed as they looked at you, and Farah took a photo.

You looked at them both with a grin.

“Bet y’all can’t do this!”

“I bet I can!” Saul called back.

You hummed, nodding your head and you held the horses mane again as you reached over, holding your hand out to him.

“Feeling brave?” You snickered.

“Oh Jesus Saul don’t.” Farah warned.

Saul shuffled over, and he slowly crouched on the truck bed, and he reached out, taking your hand and he jumped over.

He was nearly thrown to the side, but you hauled him back up and he sat behind you.

“We do it all the time! She’s a rodeo horse! She’s used to it!” You yelled.

“What’s a rodeo?” Saul asked.

“There’s one this weekend I’ll take you both!”

And you did.

You took them both to the rodeo, explaining everything to them, showing them what it was and what people did.

“Have you ever done this before?” Farah asked you.

Leaning against the fence, you nodded your head.

“Yes ma’am. Last year in fact, lassoed my first calf here.”

“You.. what?” She asked confused.

You snickered a little, pulling out your phone to show them a photo.

It turned out a lot of stuff you did every summer they hadn’t ever done, so you took them to most of them, letting them experience then and as it grew to the end of the holidays you found yourself sat down at the table again.

“We won’t force you to come to Alfea if you don’t want to. But it is just a simple boarding school, you can come home on Christmas and during the summer.” Farah asked

“But again, it is completely up to you. We will have to give you a few tests to figure out who’s side of the school you would attend.” Saul nodded.

You nodded your head.

You looked towards James and Kody, and they held their hands up.

“This is your choice. But this will always be your home no matter what you choose.” Kody smiled.

You frowned a little as you thought about it.

Part of you wanted to stay, this was your home, you loved it here.

But the other part wanted to go, to get to know your parents and see how they lived and get to know them some more.

“What.. what about Bodi.. I can’t leave him..”

You looked at the dog laying at your feet.

“You can bring Bodi too. We wouldn’t let you come and not let him come.” Saul smiled.

“Okay.. I Uhm..”

You trailed off as you thought again.

“I.. I want to try it for a few months. But if I don’t like it I can come back here, right?”

“Of course. Of course you can.” Farah smiled softly.

You nodded and left the table and her and Saul stood up to hug on another.

It wasn’t you coming back to them permanently, but they couldn’t take you away from the life you loved so much.

But it was a step.

A step to them having their child back in their lives again

[forestelfo]

Fate appreciation week Day 5:

Favorite Quote

This quote holds SO much in it. [insert John Mulaney meme “now we don’t have time to unpack all of that”]

These 7 words are so important in terms of the Golden Trio’s storyline, I adore the writer who came up with it even without fully understanding what’s behind it. also Bloom saying it tells me that their past is something pretty known among the students. I do wonder how their long lasting connection as a “Found Family” trope is seen from a perspective of an Alfean, and how much does one actually know about their own teachers’ relationship and everything they’ve gone through together. not much, I assume.

[simplytheevebest]

Me: ...and that's why the Fate fandom is currently losing their minds speculating about Farah. I'm so excited for season 2, I can't WAIT

My cousin, who has no interest in this show and humors me because she's an angel: I really hope she's alive, I really want that for you