#but he sees the witch and how kind and sweet she looks by moonlight

[belladonnaprice]

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

[moonywritez6]

Kinktober Day 10 (Reupload)

Character: Original Sukuna x Witch Reader 

Reader: Fem Reader!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, harsh language, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), double dicks, double penetration, blood, violence

Wc: 2,849

A/n: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

S/N:  I kind of referenced this fic to one of my earlier works between Sukuna and Witch Reader! (It's sad and angsty but I just love the story I have behind the two so I couldn't help myself! Just look for Sukuna's part if interested! (Not required of course!) This one is not edited or proofread so I do apologize for all the mistakes.

______________________________________________________________

Making his way through the dark woods, Sukuna lets out a few breaths, his body taking him down the path he had come to engrave deep inside his mind. "Damn pathetic witch…living so far out." He growls to himself. Your mere existence was annoying, but at the same time, your face always seemed to calm his rageful soul. After what felt like a century of walking, his eyes take in the faint glow of the lantern you always kept hanging from your porch. He grunts, not bothering to knock as he pushes the door open only to be greeted by pure silence. The curse narrows his eyes as he searches the small hut noticing no signs of life. “Oi! Damn witch of the woods!” He shouts allowing a moment for you to respond but there is nothing. He grits his teeth, his mind running through all the possible things that could have happened to you. “The village.” He spits, recalling how you had once mentioned being hated and feared by a village a few miles away. Thinking that one day they would come for you. Sukuna quickly rushes out of the hut, his feet taking him at max speed towards the village, his bloodlust filling the air.

As he dashes through the woods one of his eyes catches a glimpse of a figure standing out in the lake causing him to halt. He approaches the tree line with all four eyes taking in the figure under the moonlight. There you stood, body fully exposed as you bathed under the moon, completely defenseless as you looked up at the sky, eyes shining with the stars. Sukuna watches his mind and nerves going crazy with multiple emotions. Fear, anger, relief, lust each one clashing with the other as he tried to push it all aside. “Do you seeeee her?” An eerie voice whispers from a few trees down getting his attention. There hovered some low-level curses, their eyes peering at your oblivious self their actions irritating Sukuna. “She’s known to be one of the prettiest creatures to grace these woods~” Another curse giggled, leaning closer to get a better look at your exposed breasts.

“Do you think we can touch-” It falls silent as one of the curses falls to the ground, head cut clean off. The other curses jump quickly looking behind them to see the king of curses hold a severed head in his hands, eyes cold as he smirks down at the pathetic creatures before him. “Just by looking at her you die.” Was all he needed to say before blood splattered everywhere covering his body in the filthy red liquid. He growls while examining his body with disgust before his ears ring at the sound of your voice. “Who’s there?” Though you pose it as a question your tone is stern and demanding causing the king of curses to smirk an idea popping into his head. Carefully he emerges from the tree line still drenched in blood as he lets out a deep sigh while one hand scratches the back of his head.

“Calm down damn witch.” His eyes trail back to you watching as your defensive form relaxes at the sight of him, this small action causing the bloodthirsty killer's heart to waver. Though you had relaxed you soon remembered that you were bathing under the moon completely exposed to the man in front of you causing a deep red to dust your cheeks as you tried to duck under. The sight is amusing as Sukuna slowly strips himself of what little clothing he already wore, his body slowly entering the cold water of the night. “I-I’ll be out soon Sukuna-san! You can just go back to the hut!” You protested while swimming further away, your entire body flushed at the quick glimpse you had gotten of his naked form. You hear him scoff as he moves closer to you only stopping a few inches away as he peers down at you with dark eyes.

“You weren’t there…” He mumbles, reaching out to pull you against his chest; you flinch at the sudden contact, your usual calm demeanor gone. He smirks at this, finally being able to see a new side of the most powerful witch of the woods as he rests his chin on your head. “I almost went to kill that village.” He confesses one of his hands carefully sliding down your right arm to extend it out as he examines the black tattoos that covered your skin similar to his own thanks to that soulmate spell you had performed almost three months ago. You frown at his words not wanting him to murder innocent lives because of some witch. “Sukuna-san I only went to bathe under the moonlight! I didn’t even know you would be coming here at this time of the night!” You scold turning your head up to look at the curse who was labeled as your soulmate. He hums, taking a piece of your hair between two of his fingers gently playing with it as he recalls the curses, he had just slaughtered a moment ago.

“Do I need to inform you when I will arrive? Tch, who do you think you’re talking to?” He growls dipping his face into the crook of your neck to leave a possessive bite, his teeth piercing into your skin causing you to whine as you grip onto two of his biceps, your sharp nails dragging against his skin sending tingles through his body. “I told you before…I’m not afraid of curses.” You breathe listening to him lick at the fresh mark a satisfied hum leaving his lips as his eyes look up at your face brows furrowed. “Curses aren’t afraid of you either, you know. In fact, curses are drawn to you.” He growls pulling away his body becoming clearer under the light of the moon as you take in all the red still staining his skin the smell of iron finally processing in your nose.

“Are you hurt Sukuna-san?” You question quickly turning your body to face him, your bare breasts pressed against his chest as you examine him for any injuries getting ready to cast a healing spell if needed. He stops you, arms trapping your body as close as possible to his, a small gasp escaping you as you feel the two hard cocks pressing against your lower body. “I’m fine dammit! I just found a few pathetic curses trying to mess with something that belongs to only me.” He growls at the memory of their ugly faces, his blood boiling as he could only imagine what was running through their minds when they looked at your lustful body glistening so beautifully in the night. “It makes me so pissed…that you can just let others see you so exposed.” He grabs at your chin with one hand forcing you to look up at him, his eyes taking in your flushed appearance.

“I didn’t even know they were around…I guess I was just spacing out too much.” You confessed feeling foolish for having let your thoughts of the man in front of you cloud your senses making the area around you nonexistent in the moment. Sukuna hums watching the night sky reflect in your pure orbs so full of care and love for this world's filthy creatures. “Your skin is so divine in the moonlight.” He confesses cupping your cheek, his mind filling with only you, the one creature he was willing to love for all eternity. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, mouth agape when you see the soft look in his eyes. “Sukuna-san you didn’t drink any of the potions when you were inside, did you? Some of those are for customers who asked for aphrodisiacs!” You worry, not wanting to have the curse mad at you the next day for allowing him to drink something that would show any signs of weakness.

He frowns at your words, going to pinch your sides in annoyance. You let out a small cry from the stinging pain, a pout on your lips. “Tch. You think I would be so stupid to drink one of those disgusting vials?” He growls, finding your questions insulting for the king of curses. You try to shrink away into the water, finding his mood to be slightly unpleasant. “I was just wondering…big jerk.” Your words were quiet but not enough to go unnoticed by Sukuna who disliked that you were no longer pressed against him, his body not feeling whole. “If you wish for my anger to cease then will you be a good witch and please your king?” The question shocks you as you make eye contact orbs searching for any mischievous intent only to find pure lust greeting you. The two of you had made love only once when you had discovered you were soulmates, both your harbored feelings finally being released into three whole days of passion.

As if reading your mind Sukuna let out a small chuckle, his arms gripping at your waist as he pulled you close once again this time making you wrap your legs around his torso. “It's been so long since I’ve made love to you…tell me does your body still recall my touch?” He whispers lips pressing against your forehead. You hum, unable to think of any words as you feel your heart racing, your eyes trailing all over his chest taking in the man who had won over the most powerful witch. “Look at me Y/n.” He growls forcing your chin up the use of your name causing something inside you to tingle. “I’m going to make every creature in these woods know that you’re mine. So don’t you dare hold back filthy witch.” With those words his lips are roughly pressed to yours in a bruising kiss as he pries your mouth open with ease, his tongue almost plunging deep into your throat as he hungrily takes in your taste.

You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to deep kiss your body wanting more of him as if remembering those three days like it was something you experienced your whole life. A deep growl leaves Sukuna’s throat as one of his hands grips the back of your head taking in a fist full of your hair as you feel him smirk into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open in shock, a small cry being muffled by his lips when you feel a giant tongue lick up your pussy. Sukuna’s fist pulls at your hair separating the kiss, a long string of saliva still connecting the kiss as he lets out an amused laugh “Does it feel good darling? Having two tongues inside you?” He breathes as the mouth on his stomach hungrily lapped at your twitching pussy under the water. You let out a few pathetic moans. The feeling of his other mouth was different compared to his normal one.

Sukuna closely watched the way your face twisted into pleasure as your arms tightened around his neck, your hips starting to move in sync with the licks of his other tongue. He watches cocks twitching as the sight deeply arouses him. “What a filthy witch~” He teases his tongue sliding up your neck as he wraps a hand around your throat. You shiver body trembling from all the pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna presses his forehead to yours, his eyes taking in every detail of your face before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You whine, your body stiffening when the tongue from his stomach slithers deep inside your hole, eyes widening as your legs squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls away an evil grin on his face as he looks down at your fucked out expression.

“Filthy whore coming from another mouth!” He laughs a hand caressing your side as he tries to pull you away however your grip doesn’t loosen up as you try to recover from your orgasm pussy twitching. He sighs, pressing a few kisses to your cheek. “Strongest witch in the world but so pathetic from just getting your pussy tongue fucked.” His words earn a small smack from you followed by a tiny ‘shut up’ causing him to laugh. “If you want me to be satisfied you have to move away a bit darling. Otherwise, I can’t put it inside.” He whispers into your ear taking notice of your shivers. ‘The water must be getting cold.’ His thoughts are confirmed when you slowly float away from him, his eyes landing on your perked nipples and trembling lips. His two lower hands reach under the water to pump at his throbbing cocks wanting to feel inside your warm walls.

“Your pussy can handle both, right? Or has it been too long for the Witch of the Woods?” He hums remembering how long it took for your pussy to accept both his cocks the first time. Your body stiffens as you contemplate swimming away from the curse, your eyes trailing over to your clothes that lay by the shoreline. Taking notice of your gaze Sukuna frowns quickly gripping at your wrist to pull you back into his chest. “You dare think of running from me witch?” He growls two of his hands lifting you up, earning a small squeak from you as you try and hold onto his shoulders for support. “S-Sukuna-san I don’t think I can! It was so long ago!” You plead nails digging into his flesh.

“I want any pathetic creature lurking around to see my little witch get fucked by a true king!” He shouts while positioning both tips at your entrance, the feeling of them rubbing together causing a decent amount of precum to mix with the lake's water. With a free hand, he cups your cheek, eyes locking as his lips hover over your bruised and swollen ones. “The only king she will please and love.” He whispers before sloppily kissing you while thrusting deep into your pussy. You scream into the kiss tears falling down your cheeks as you feel your pussy being ruined as his cocks fill you. Sukuna groans into the kiss, his chest tightening as he feels your walls squeeze almost making him cum on the spot. He pulls away multiple curses leaving his lips as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his body shaking from how good you felt.

“So, fucking tight…such a good witch…my good girl.” He praises kissing anywhere he can while listening to the tiny whimpers you give in response. After a moment he starts to move growling at the feeling of his cocks rubbing together the friction driving him crazy as his movements start to pick up. His hold on your body is tight as he bounces you up and down like a doll, the sound of water splashing filling his ears. However, that was the only sound causing him to look up at you while gritting his teeth. “I fucking knew it.” He scoffs watching your mouth move but no sounds come out. This wasn’t the first time you had cast a spell to conceal your voice from him not wanting to disrupt any of the woodland creatures or anyone in the area.

“Tch, I won't let you stay quiet with your spells this time witch.” He spits venomously his nails digging into your hips as he pounds deep inside you the tips of his cocks entering your womb causing tears to fall from your eyes. Having learned some of your spells Sukuna is quick to rid you of your silence, your screams of pleasure music to his ears as they echo throughout the woods. “That’s right, witch! Scream my name let these woods hear who makes their precious witch so weak and pathetic!” Sukuna laughs maniacally, his thrusts merciless as he feels you cum for a second time. You toss your head back drool falling from your chin, eyes glossed over with lust as you stare up at the moon. “Sukuna! Sukuna! Give me more!” You scream your mind is too fucked out to care anymore. Sukuna laughs followed by a few grunts as he feels himself reaching his own release, the excitement from killing all those curses along with seeing how beautiful you looked under the moonlight bringing him so much pleasure.

“Kiss me Y/n…kiss your king…your soulmate.” He breathes heavily. His only desire is you. You look at him with a fucked-out expression that causes him to go over the edge, his lips smashing to yours as he fills your insides, your pussy clenching as you spray all over them. Sukuna’s arms hold you tight, his eyes trailing to the tree line, smirking against your lips as he watches the smaller curses cower away. Once he made sure the two of you were clean, he was careful while carrying you out of the lake making sure to grab your clothes along with his own. “Sukuna-san…you’re so mean.” You whisper half asleep from the tiring activity. Sukuna just scoffs rolling his eyes at your words.

“Shut up Y/n.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

I just thought of the perfect excuse for Wukogn to come down from the mountain in Soft Boiled au! If Yuebei is a ribbondancer, she had to start young. This means Wukong had to enroll her in classes for it at some point. Imagine if, after winning some competition, Yuebei was actually IN the parade as one of the dancers! This means she, unfortunately, was smack dab in the middle of the chaos, hidden behind a glamour. This could be both how her dancing troupe and otber friends finds out about her being a monkey... and the world at large discovering Sun Wukong had a daughter if she hadn't been known about beforehand.

To make things angst, imagine if she had left her asthma inhaler with Wukong so it wouldn't get lost/damaged in the performance. And unlike Redson, Yuebei didn't escape without being captured. Luckily, SQ isn't willing to actually harm a little girl like that, even if she is Wukong's daughter. In fact she finds the fact Yuebei is such a Daddy's Girl and Wukong is so protective of her extremely amusing and kind of sweet! Unfortunately Yuebei ends up having an asthma attack tho, just form a mix of tbe bad quality air in the mech, the excitement and exercise she had, and jsut waking up feeling kinda bad. And since Wukong has the inhaler and both are currently trapped, they have to rely on their captors to be kind enough to get Yuebei her inhaler from Wukong's pocket. And it isn't SQ who is in the room when it happens.

Macaque was spying on them from the shadows and watching as Wukong damn near begged LBD to let him save his little girl, actually crying tears as the bone witch just laughed in his face, not caring about the girl. She grabbed the inhaler andjsut threw it on the ground in front of him, stepping on it, before walking out. Once he was sure LBD was gone, and Wukong was distracted trying to help his daughter and keep her calm, Macaque made his move. The medicine disappears into a shadow portal and Macaque slides out next to Yuebei, inhaler in hand. It's a very tense moment before Macaque proceeds to help Yuebei use said inhaler, but he won't cut them free.

Not without a VERY overdue conversation with his ex.

Prev.

Oohh that would be so cute <3

Wukong noticed Yuebei's interest in ribbon-dancing a long time ago, and found it a good way to get her to interact with regular kids roughly her age but under supervision. Wukong may be a bit of a helicopter parent, but none of the other guardians or teachers judge him for it when he expains that Yuebei is health-compromised.

Yuebei thinks her dad is super embarassing, sitting on the sidelines with a whole doctor's office in his bag, cheering for her and her group for every bit of progress, bringing fresh fruit for everyone, calling her his little Moonlight - UGH!

But she'd rather have he there and keep going to class than not go at all so...

At New Years, Yuebei's school gets a prestigious role; acting as junior dancers in the parade! They've done competitions and live performances before, but New Years!? :D

Yuebei does not stop fretting about it when she gets home or meets up with the Noodle Gang. She's low-key panicking since it will be her first time in a parade at all. All that anxiety makes her start to wheeze a bit...

So on the evening of New Years; Wukong tells MK to go hang out with his dads and friends for the day - and maybe take a break to watch the parade! MK and Mei are super excited to see Yuebei perform for real, and convince Pigsy to close the food truck for a few minutes when it's time for her school's progression.

Then the spiders attack.

Yuebei is scream-wheezing with anger by now. She's spent days preparing for this parade! How dare these B-Tier villains wreck her and her team's performance!? Nearly aflame with rage, her glamour falls apart, revealing a very familiar-looking monkey demon...

Spider Queen is quick to capture this one, even if the little Monkey Princess is too cute to eat. She's perfect bait for catching her Daddy.

Wukong is captured alongside DBK as in canon, with the addition of Yuebei in the web next to him. Weirdly, the spider mech seems to "glitch out" a bit when it draws energy from her.

As Wukong soothes his crying little girl that it's ok and that they'll make it out of here, he notices how here breathing is Off.

Yuebei's asthma had gotten better as she grew up, but it never went away. And now she was in the midst of a massive attack.

Wukong panics as he struggles to reach for the inhaler in his pocket, gritting his teeth as the contricting webs pull at his strength, still assuring his daughter that everything will be okay.

Then the strange little girl appears... and Wukong pales at the sight of her. He weakly asks for assistance to help his child, only for the Bone Demon to mock him for having "such a weak progeny" and crush the inhaler underfoot. She leaves the room, threatening her future goals.

The other demons in the room now fully realise that Sun Wukong, The Monkey King, is terrified in this moment - terrified for his child's life. Wukong is trying his best not to cry, still trying to keep his daughter calm and breathing, but hope is running thin....

Until a shadow leaks into frame.

Anyone whos broken an inhaler casing will tell you that you can still release the medicine if the cartridge is intact, its just a little awkward.

Macaque fumbles with the cartridge as Wukong instructs him how to use it to help Yuebei, all three monkeys breathing a sigh of relief as the youngest's wheezing calms and breathing steadies.

Macaque is about to ask Wukong a much needed question when DBK manages to break free from his own webbing, terrified for his niece's well-being.

Ripping the webs asunder, DBK brushes the tears from Yuebei's eyes, asking if she's indeed ok before heading out to look for his own child. Wukong thanks his brother sincerely. And thanks Macaque too.

Macaque acts non-chalantly about it, and finally gets to ask;

"Who's kid is this?"

Wukong and Yuebei's faces tells him it's not a question they expected him to ask. Or one they would need an answer for. Macaque mentally panics as he calculates all the similarities between his ex-mate and the little monkey demon he just helped save.

Macaque blinks as the realisation comes to him; "Oh sh-"

And then the gang's airship releases the spider venom antidote throughout the city. More questions for later!

[spookshollow]

Bewitching Love

A story of D and his witch, just a little story, I don't know if anyone still reads or writes vampire hunter d, anyway if you want to request of a story you can ask me!

D x Reader (Vampire hunter d)

Being a hunter is a lonely job, but a hunter that is a vampire is even more lonelier,

D, a mysterious hunter that is a Dhampire, hunts his own kind, for reasons unknown but with his presence around, it had brought peace to the town for as long he was there, but though he is pledge a hero,

They still treat him as a vampire of the night, D simply ignores there harsh words for without him, this town would be run by vampires of every kind, and though he is feared just like any vampire a woman with such beauty and grace has be banished for witchcraft.

D had seen her countless of times in the city, her beauty captivated him, he could never take his eyes of her, as he sneak round not to be spotted as he watch her gracefully wander the town, laughing with the children, every time she would smile, warm course through his heart with feelings he thought he would never have felt,

He had always want to go up and speak to her but he could never.

He watches with gritted teeth as the villagers banished her out of the village, she stumbled out and away from what was once her home, now gone forever from her very eyes,

He followed her slowly as he observed the surroundings as she walked through the darkness forest of the night, she stopped for a moment and she quickly glance over to where D had stood, he realised she knew he was watching her, that he was watching over her.

D stood frozen waiting for her reaction but what she did baffled D, she smiled at him, his heart began to warm and he couldn't help but return the smile to her, that's how their relationship had began, was a simple smile,

D and the witch love grew and grew the more they are together, whenever he had wounds from battle, she was there to patch him up,

When they both walked side by side the same village that excelled her all stood in gasped of shook and surprise to see that very woman looking healthy and beside the vampire hunter.

In each night when D return, passions of love envelope them two as they express their love in physical ways that illuminate in the moonlight, laying completely bare with just a blanket to cover themselves as they softly caress each other, basking in the sweet afterglow of their beautiful way of expressing their love for each other.

Later on at midnight D turned around and see his love was standing next to the window with a spare blanket to cover herself, he called to her gently as she turned around and looked at her sweet lover laying in their shared bed,

"What are you doing up in this time of night?" She giggled softly as D began to feel that sweet warm feeling in his heart again,

"Basking in the beautiful moon that is out tonight darling" even as she spoke she was as if a sweet angel that came down from heaven, D got up not caring to get a blanket for modesty,

He wrapped his arms around her small waist as she leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes enjoying the moment of being in the arms of her lover,

"You look so beautiful in the moonight my witch" he kiss her check gently, before kissing down to her neck finding that sweet spot she loves so much,

"and so do you my dearest Dhampire" he pulled away when she turned her body around to face him, she placed her hand on his pale cheek,

He leaned into her touch looking into his lovers eyes, either it was all because she may had put a spell on him or whether he just fallen in love by chance he love her so much,

"Marry me?" He said with such confidence as she smiled with such joy,

"yes! A thousand times yes" D smiled with happiness as she wrapped her arms around him, dropping the blanket that covered onto the floor.

As they began to passionately kissed each other with such love and passion for each other.

[ghostsprettymama]

moonlight

Plot: Voldemort's children Attending Hogwarts? What is dumbledore thinking? Perhaps he's trying to get them to go against their father?

Warnings: Angst,violence,mentions of sui,child endangerment,harrypotter, M x F reader. all stufent characters mentioned in this part are minors so no smut. only fluff.

Pairing: Harry potter x Voldemorts daughter ! reader

WORD COUNT: 3,565 words 19,378 characters

STUDENT CHARACTERS IN THIS PART ONCE AGAIN ARE MINORS. DO NOT SEXUALIZE, POTRAY SEXUAL OR DISPLAY ANYTHING SEXUAL TORWARDS THEM .

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“Y/n?” your cousin draco woke you up. You slept in the malfoy manor due to your parents orders, well Bellatrix convincing your father Voldemort for you to stay Somewhere safe..

you got up, it was still nighttime.” You think Hogwarts will like you?” the little boy asked. you thought realistically, you were a pessimistic little girl.” no. They fear my parents and I look alike them. Seeing me would send them to their ancestors..” you said getting up.

“What about the potter, we can make him our friend!” said Draco, oh He's so optimistic, you loved it. You hugged your cousin. “I admire your optimism Draco, but I am potter repellent.” you sighed.

The tales of harry did seem cool to you. You just didn't like how these common folk stretched it.

“What's your father like?” Your cousin asked. You two went into the living room sitting by the fire, he wanted the story again.

you smiled, you two were both 11 yet you acted like his older sister. “My father is the strongest dark wizard there is, my mother following behind! No wizard or witch dares to utter his name or...” you used a cloaking spell re- appearing behind him. “HE KILLS THEM!” you said, a magical hallucination of your father behind you.

Little Draco screamed as you ended your spell hugging him. “It’s fine draco. No matter who or what it is ill protect you” you promised him.

Narcissa Malfoy came in, crossing her arms “Children we must leave for Hogwarts soon. Why are you not packing?” she smiled.

“Sorry, mama Y/n was just telling me stories,” Draco said going back to your shared room.

Just as you head out, Lucius stopped you. “You do remember your plan for this year correct.” He asked you, you weren't scared of the Malfoys.

If anything they feared your father, and if you failed. That equals your father's rage. “Befriend potter,” you said. “Good” he released his grip on you as you went to the room packing.

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

You walked with pride Besides the Malfoys, everyone knew who you were. You looked at potter with a smile, he smiled back. he looks kind, i hope to enjoy befriending him. molly held him pulling him back and whispering in his ear " do not mind that cursed girl, she is not to befriend" she protected harry

HARRY POV

When I locked eyes with that girl, something in me clicked instantly,I moved when molly whispered in my ear since the sensation was irritating, and I looked at molly shaking my head.

"no.. she's not cursed.." I said furrowing my brows, I defended the girl as if I knew her for life. when I saw mollys reaction being shocked I shook my head and turned back around and she was gone.

HOGWARTS EXPRESS

HARRY POV STILL

I saw the girl again with a blonde boy and the girl I had saw earlier performed a trick which made the blonde boy smile, then they looked over talking and pointing, I was so confused. I looked at my new friend Hermione asking her a question "Hermione who is she?" she turned her head immediately raising an eyebrow.

her eyes widened like her eyes were about to pop out. "That's Y/n Lestrange riddle.. shes like the opposite of what you're stereotyped to be.. but I personally don't believe in such buffoonery. im, not gonna assume shes bad off of tales and neither should you" she lectured.

"oh now she coming over-" I said

"Y/n Riddle, my full name is Y/n Lestrange riddle. what's yours" Her sweet eyes smiled but not her mouth, how odd. "Harry potter," I Said shaking her hand, she didn't patronize me or treat me horribly.

"I wanna be your friend can I?" She asked me. "yes! of course," I said happily. "can my cousin draco come? or you guys can move to our cart it can fit lot of people" She said optimistically.

We moved to her cart, we had lots of conversations and eventually, ron warmed up to her.

HOGWARTS

y/n pov

Harry walked in with my hand in his, draco holding my other, they did this since i almost fell off the boat.

"I could've sworn I saw something!" I protested and they sighed in sync. Draco looked at me with a concerned look.

"You act like a suicidal pigeon!" he smacked me on my head and i rubbed in pain.

we sat at tables getting called one by one,Dumbeldore and snape looked at me, i know who snape is because he works with my dad.

i wave and he nodded, i was gonna sit by harry but the tall ginger twins sat where i was going to.

"sorry the seats taken" the one on the right said "kick rocks" the other said.

I felt rage consume me and im sure they could tell by my eyes, i just wanted to be by my friend. i shook my head sitting across from the trio, draco taking the space between me.

"Fred dont be rude!" ron hit his arm, and got scowled by fred. "yeah dont be rude to the evil princess!" George said, i was upset.

"Im not a princess .im the same as you. a normal person. royalty isnt as it seems but it seems itd feed both of your egos." i said , sitting across from harry with draco. turning to the man who stood up. he looks like a grandpa.

He gave a speech but i felt eyes on me. i squeezed dracos hand and he squeezed back three times. calm down its alright. thats what the squeezes meant.

"We have a two students here . yes theyre Harry potter and Miss Y/n Lestrange Riddle. treat them as your companion and not enemeys against eachother. At hogwarts we all are all equal" Dumbeldore looked at Fred " and we will not discriminate because of parents or what they did. children are not their parents, you all are here to become amazing witches and wizards, act like it."he sat back down.

Soon each teacher introduced themselves giving speeches but i spaced out,my owl rested in my lap, i loved her dearly. if anything happened to her id wreck havoc. Soon everyone but me Got sorted.

Then it was my time. i walked up as eyes were on me. i did what my mama said and held my head high, i stepped with delicate grace.

"i heard her mother put her through intense training"

"her father treats her like a war machine... they dont even celebrate her birthday"

"they taught her everything but to be a child."

I payed no mind to whispers that didnt know a thing. Lucius taught me not to associate with fools who speak out their rear ends. I sat down in the chair, when the hat was placed on me it seemed to have a crisis.

"You are tricky...a child filled with so much passion,charisma, Knowledge and promise. so friendly yet turned away by all but her kin and a promising boy." the hat asked me a question.

everyone fell silent when i said my answer. "What do you see in your future" it said. "Rebelling against evil and protectong my friends from those who hurt them. no matter who." i said.

I saw dumbeldores smile in the corner of my eye.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, Draco looked upset, harry,hermione and ron clapped along with the twins who suprisingly clapped.

you sat by them , draco glared at you as if you werent related to him anymore.. that hurted.

we headed to dorms, you tried to speak to draco but he turned his head away from you, you shrugged. " i dont get it." you said " get what?" Hermione tilted her head. "Draco.." you frowned.

"Maybe hes temporaily upset. " hermione held your hand with a smile "its okay to let them be mad. focus on being with your friends the rest of your hogwarts life!" she said hugging your arm.

LATER

i sat in the common room with fred,Ron,George and harry. they were playing games while i looked out the window, i already completed my first task what else.. i bit my lip.

"whats wrong now?" harry said sitting beside me,i shook my head. "youre at hogwarts! have fun with us" harry said pulling you to wizards chest.

"Fair warning im not easy to beat," Ron said. you smiled, he underestimated you, you had played against many people while your dad worked including your siblings. speaking of them, they walked in sitting behind you.

"You have siblings?" Fred asked " two sets of twins in gryffindor hm" George replied to his twin. you and Ron battled with chess, he almost had beaten you if you didnt move right, but you wanted him to win, you purposely lost.

"Hey no fair you lost on purpose" Ron said,you felt your sibblings hands on the your shoulder. "do it again." Miles said in your ear,Max was at the other ear.

"Do what Riddles do and beat those who challenge them."Max said and you listened,you werent under imperius, you jusf feared them.

You moved with skill and non perdictable actions. the game ended in a matter of sections, they smiled "Thats our sister." max and miles said hugging you then heading to their rooms.

You calmed down looking at the four,all of them showed concern. "what was that" said fred. " nothing" you got up going to your room.

Harry pov

"Shes an odd fellow" Ron said laying on the couch, he ate chocolate frogs."Shes not strange.. when i saw her at the train i saw something different then what you see.." I hugged my legs to help me think.

"Ooh what are you fated lovers!" George joke making ron choke on his chocolate frogs. "Dont be ridiculous were too young for that stuff and i doubt she ever would feel like that" i rolled my eyes heading up to sleep.to my room

WEEKS LATER.

I had the weirdest dream, about a stone. maybe i can ask Hermione about it. we were in spell castings class, Y/n and draco were across from me.

She was having trouble with casting spells, when she looked at me , i froze. i shook my head showing her the correct motion.

She did it suceeding, when she showed draco i saw his smile, when he looked at me though. it was a scowl.

When class ended i pulled my friends aside going to the library,ron huffed only having food on his mind right now.

"I could be eating some amazing food right now harry" said ron, i rolled my eyes. "a dream i had about a stone.. it was crimson red.. and shined and i think i need to find it.." i said .

Y/N pov

" harry are you speaking of the sorcerers stone?" you asked him, ron sat on a desk near me while hermione searched a book. " i cant find it." hermione said flopping down.

blue = y/n

pink = hermione

red= ron

white= harry

"we have to tell someone"

"who can we not trust"

" maybe our friends? like the teachers or... i have no actually what about you ron"

"i dont know ask y/n"

you knew who you couldnt trust, you cant trust them or throw your cousin under the bus, you choose someone you couldnt care less for. "snape."

"why him?"

"hes gonna embarass us and think im just trying to rebell agaimst my father! plus hes weird!"

"i think hes alright even though he looks like hes constantly suffocating "

"you mean his double chin ron??"

" a what?"

"oh my god"

"i know who we can tell"

"who"

"Professor Mcgongall!" you said. you immediately ran to her class, when we arrived everyone said stuff at once.

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"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT CHILDREN one at a time.. y/n first" She said looking at you, directly in your blue eyes to sense a lie.

"Harry had a dream about the sorcerers stone...and that my dad was gonna take it .." you said, looking at her in the eyes. you had her convinced almost.

"I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected." she said sitting in her chair.

"its getting late off you go to sleep." she said dismissing the gryffindors "But- "off you go!" she said, she looked at your eyes which flashed with rage. nobody was listening to your friend.

"Fine. if you wont trust us then youll see what happens" you stormed off, Mcgonagal sighed shaking her head.

NO ONES POV

"Potter" she said as everyone but harry left.She took harrys hands in hers " On behalf of y/n. do not let go of that girl no matter what. she is a pure soul that is a key to the future.. i dont believe shes out of her fathers control, but please, never let go of what you have." she said

Harry nodded, not understanding but he nodded.He quickly followed behind his friends reaching for Y/ns hand. the two 11 year olds naturally had such a close bond their bodys automatically did this.

they waited in the gryffindor common room for every staff and student head to sleep. then came neville

"I cant let you do this! not with her, her parents-

"Lumos Maxima Muffliato " y/n said doing the motion hitting neville with it as he fell asleep.

hermione looked surpised high fiving y/n " im proud of you remembering what we studied!" she hugged the other female with a smile.

"cmon !" harry ran, to a mirror, ron knew what he was doing but the other two didnt.

They came to a door, Y/n pinched her nose “Eugh it smells like wet dog..” she said gagging “maybe because a dogs in there” Hermione said opening the door.

The Quartet entered seeing the massive, The lestrange child flinched seeing how huge the mutt was. “I dont think we should.. It could attack us..” Said y/n. “Its asleep.. “ ron said. Hermione spotted the self-playing instrument.

“The harp! Its playing and it makes the dog sleepy.. But how do we...” Hermione tried to find a way. “C'mon!” y/n pulled Hermione in the boys following.

“it has horrid breath” Harry said,y/n snorted at him. “Y/n,Ron help me move the Paw” Harry said moving to the dog. “Why me? Why not Hermione and Y/n??” Ron said “Just move the paw!” he said rolling his eyes.

you two did just that. When fully moving the paw, a trap door was revealed. “I’ll fall first- dont fall unless i give you a sign” said Harry. “ what if something bad happens,” Said Hermione. “Then you two have to leave,” Y/n said.

“Wait why just us” Ron looked at y/n confused.” because im going down. First TAH TAH!” the little girl jumped down without warning.

“Bloody hell- did she just-” Ron was in shock. “she's strong! She’ll be okay” Hermione replied. “Wait. Did it get quiet..” Harry said “the harp... It

Stopped playing” the now trio turned around as thick globs of drool leaked down to the floor. “JUMP.” he said as soon as he turned around jumping down.

The two followed having common sense in not wanting to die. The dogs attacked the door ripping it apart.

The four kids were now in slimy vines that slithered around” stop moving idiots! Its devil's snare, relax yourselves and stop moving! Itll only kill you faster” hermione said "kill us faster???? NOW I CAN DEFFINENTLY RELAX THANKS!" ron yelled while struggling. hermione listened to her own orders relaxing, the vines would snap and she sunk down.

"Hermione?! Y/n where are you!" ron said "Im with her! just relax trust me." Hermione said, harry listened while ron struggled, falling down, joining the duo. "HARRY" ron said in pure anguish.

"youre here!" hermione said to harry and he nodded looking at y/n. "is ron- not here?" hermione paced around trying to think of something "i know this spell from herbology..." hermione tried to remember" is it Lumos Solem?" Y/n asked in curiousity " umm.. My aunt narcissa taught me that.." Y/n added on.

"Yes! brilliant y/n thank you so much!" she hugged y/n "now say it with me!" hermione said aiming her wand at the snare.

"Lumos Solem!" the two aimed up at the devils snare , it released ron shriviling up. "good thing we didnt panic!" ron said"good thing those two saved you." Harry corrected. Y/n and hermione heard something "what is that?" hermione asked . "sounds like wings.." Harry said as he approached the sound, oppening the doors and his friends following behind.

"wow... i never saw bugs like these in books" Hermione said " neither have i..in any of the forbidden books my mother made me read either" y/n seemed amazed looking at them " thats because theyre keys..and i bet one of them fits that door" Ron said, the qauret walked, coming across a broom. "whats this all about.." hermione said. " i dont know.." the ginger boy replied. they went to the door as harry potter looked at the broom. "strange.."

"Alohomora!" Hermione said and the door didnt budge "worth a shot." ron said, hoping to brighten the mood.

"maybe one of those keys fit... but how would you get to it?" Y/n said

"the broom!"

LATERBCIMLAZYANDIDONTWANNARECITETHEWHOLEMOVIEFROMEMORY

"Harry dont tell me you came to look at yourself.." Y/n said jokingly,Harry looked at Y/n trying to see if she understood, she nodded, both of them looked in the mirror seeing different things.

Y/n saw the truth, havoc. her by her fathers side . fire was everywhere on hogwarts, then screaming and crying she was over rons body screaming. she pointed her wand at herself and harry did the same action. "Avada Kedav-" someone pulled her away from the mirror.

Her crimson eyes returning to their regular colour ,she looked at Professer Quirrel holding her hostage with fear as she still was shaken. "THE STONE BOY." a voice said.

Y/n Pov

"father?" y/n said trying to squirm put the flimsy teachers grip. "turn around. and let go of my child" he released you turning around taking his turban off.

a face in the back of his head.

Harry flinched"oh my god.." . Y/n backed up infront of harry automatically defending him.

"my girl, bring me the stone, dont you want me to be proud of you?" Your fathers disgusting mutilated face said in the back of his head. "no." y/n said "what?" "I SAID NO." " who taught you that word! you know better then to say it to me" your dad spat venom at you

"are you guys really- "SHUT UP POTTER" you both said in sync, god damn you were your fathers child, Y/n turned to him .

Quirrel got closer to Y/n and she tried to cast a spell on her father “P-petrifi- “ she attempted but the man smacked you out of the way.

“Give me the stone boy, and join me, you wont have to die” Voldemort father sounded promising. “NO.” he shouted at Voldemort.

“Dont make it harder on yourself! GIVE ME THE STONE BOY OR SUFFER A CRUEL DEATH.” he said as Quirrel chokes him out, Harry panicked not being able to breathe, his hands gripped Quirrels,burning him. The touch had burned quirrel he’d release the boy letting go.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” He said dropping into his own pile shriveling away. Y/n couldn't believe it, Y/n got up shaking the pain off, She walked to harry hugging harry making sure he was okay.

Then everything went black.

HARRY POV

I woke up in a infirmary bed, i opened my eyes to see y/n resting beside me,Dumbeldore came in with the stone looking at me. "I dont get it..." i said looking at Y/n.

"Get what potter?"Dumbeldore said sitting by his side, opposite of y/n"I just met her.. not to long ago and she protected me from him.. her father, she failed and know she couldnt yet she did.. and when i look at her i feel like i should stay close and hold her hand like we never should be seperated...I feel like i know her more then anyone like were connected somehow.." he said his eyes moving to dumbeldore and he nodded.

"Can i say something you might not believe Harry?" dumbeldore said with a smile. "Of course sir.." Harry said. "The sun and the moon at first were strangers, yet with one look they felt as if they forever knew eachother. their souls were bound together destined as soulmates.. but many things came between their love. on many adventures the moon protected the sun blindly no matter who it was, she knew she couldnt live without the sun, because they were bounded together by a phenomenom. When by fate two are born, their souls are bounded since their life which is set in stone, depend on eachother." he said.

"but i dont get it.." Harry said "i dont love her?? i barely know what that is" he said confused "Soulmates arent always Romantic dear potter. now rest up. you have class first morning tomorrow!" he laughed walking out

"hes confusing..." Harry said his hand rested in Y/ns hair. "you are like the moon now that i think of it..but why protect me when you cant protect yourself.." Harry sighed.

"Us..? soulmates? is that some tale dumbeldore got from a book.."

" i wouldnt mind if we were ." y/n said suddenly causing harry to jump. "when were you- "ive been awake" y/n said opening her eyes. " soulmates can be platonic harry, dont fret i wouldnt be with you for .. yawn. a milllion years"

"yeah right."

The end.

[hernakedmuse]

Poppies in October

Part II

Disclaimer: SELF HARM, Scenes of a sexual nature. NOT PROOFREAD!

Pairings: Regulily, Jegulus, Xenodora kind of the beginning...

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(Regulus POV)

I can't stand the uncertain, the unpredictable, I'm a practical wizard and always have been. So why did I spend the next morning charming the head of my house into replacing my arithmancy elective with bloody Divination? Why was I waiting to have a partner assigned to do my chart?

Lily Evans might have something to do with that.

I sat at the round, celestial cloth table behind her.  The back of her neck was deliciously visible due to her prettily bobbed, deep scarlet waves. They looked full and fluffy and daring, I always preferred short hair when I was into girls. Not that she wasn't very pretty when it was long, but she became coquettishly sexy when she showed up on that train with it chopped off and falling in her sweet face. McKinnon is a fucking idiot, letting the most desired witch in school go, for fucking Meadowes? Has she seen Lily's ass? Doesn't she notice the redhead doesn't understand that bras exist? Merlin…don't get me started on those eyes, in a permanent seductive lidding, and not just green but bloody jade, like jade and teal had together created a new color. It was peacock without the blue, lined with thick dark lashes and hovered by thin, dark, perfectly arched eyebrows.

And just remembering– "I must be dreaming, what in Circe's name are you doing here Rab?" Pandora Llewellyn plopped down next to me.

She's a good friend of mine, a Slytherin a year above me. We have always just been friends, I'd never go there with her, not that she isn't funny and intelligent and her whimsical, out there nature that reminded me of Lily was rather refreshing…but Pandora is…oblivious to feelings, sometimes you don't know if she's got your back she is very matter of fact and not very warm. You can't cry on her shoulder, she'll try and read your fate and say it's what the fates decide. But she's fun and unlike a lot of our fellow snake pit, isn't blood obsessed. She's very stunning, like a human star. Willows, leggy, moonlight skin and silvery eyes she always had kohl rimmed, silver blonde hair pin straight past her svelte hips that had you convinced she's part veela but she just has a Yugoslavian mother. Hm, physically she wasn't my type either. 

My eyes slid back over to Lily, my eyes narrowed into slits as I watched her delicate little hand old Xenophilius Lovegood's up to read his palm. Her nails weren't too long or too short, and painted midnight blue, cutesy chipped, fingers adorn with mood rings and Celtic rings. Her wrist wrapped in centuries old bangles and crystal bracelets. I discreetly lifted my wand under the table and shot a stinging jinx at Lovegood. I never had anything against the always high as a dragon, bohemian Ravenclaw, he irritates me but usually he's out of my way. But I don't like that she's touching him with the same hands that touched my face as she looked at me and healed me in my moment of suffering. I don't want his filthy skin to ever feel her touch again. I felt cruel pleasure seeing him wince and hearing him whine like a pathetic child. If a stinging jinx made him react so weakly, he has bigger problems.

"What did you do that for?" Pandora demanded, usually she has a lackadaisical voice, never had she ever shown this much emotion, this much hostility. 

"Panda-" I attempted her nickname I had for, my voice falling soft. I didn't know what I did wrong or why she cared what I did to Lovegood. She gathered her things, slipping out of the classroom after Xenophilius. 

I looked back to see Lily looking up at me, her hooded jade eyes looking up at me, her pouty lips painted with red lip stain. 

I could smell her, I could smell her scent…it was strange how exact down to the detail I could smell her but I did. It was rosewater, lilacs, watermint, and strawberries.  I wanted to bite her. I wanted to taste her again. 

"Let me do your chart." Her voice is soft, like everything else about her. Soft, slightly raspy, and a musical a mix of Northern Welsh accenting Midlands English, not quite Brummie but close. Her voice had a lovely rocking back and forth sound to it.

I don't remember when I said yes, but I must have. She was sitting before me now, she looked at me well not at me but through me. Like she was getting a vision, and she took a quill and scribbled on the parchment without looking down, I watched her swirling writing. It was my birthday, time of birth, and location.  I was amazed. January 18, 1971, blue monday in London at 3 a.m. She drew a map a celestial map and wrote down sun positioned in Capricorn, moon in Libra, rising in Scorpio, mercury in Capricorn, venus in Sagittarius, Mars in Scorpio, jupiter in Sagittarius, saturn in taurus, uranus in Libra, neptune in Sagittarius, pluto in Virgo, North node in Aquarius, and Chiron in Aries. 

She drew so many symbols  ♃, ♄, ♇, ♀, ♂, ♅, ☿, ♆. 

Her jade eyes blinked and she looked up at me. "You're born on blue monday at the witching hour…there's a prophecy…" She trailed off with a faraway look.

I felt confused, so lost, all of this was balderdash. Utter bullshit, why did she look  worried for me and what prophecy? No, it's all just magician's crap. "I think I'm supposed to do your chart. But I can't do that creepy phasing out thing you did, hand me the kit."

She still looked at me strangely as she handed me the kit to create the chart, it consisted of a sundial, machina mundi,Mundial, rectangulus, an astrolabe, augrym stones and a navicula. A whole lot to find out nothing. 

I looked at her, and I remembered everything...not just the carnal pleasure but the pain, she saw me when I was most vulnerable, saw me past the mask I worked so hard to craft and present. Something more than sex and tears happened. She looked up at me, remembering too and then spoke. "You're holding your navicula wrong."

I looked down at it. "Oh."

I needed her again. This time I wanted all of her inside of her–

"Let me show you." She was beside me in an instant. Her sweet scent made my mouth water as she was beside me so close. I needed to kiss her neck, I shouldn't but I need to. Very discreetly I brushed my nose against her hair, my eyes rolled back. Beneath the lavender scented shampoo was the smell of the strawberries. I had to have her show me how to use the instruments again, and again, and again.

Class ended and it was no use. "Why did you switch to fifth year Divinations?" She asked me suddenly.

"Why because I'm a fourth year?"

She waved her wand to help Professor Firenze clean up. "No, most of your classes are advanced for your age." She tucked her wand that I knew she didn't need, away. She smiled up at me, I just noticed she was wearing eyeliner, it was subtle but it was there. "You don't strike me as the type to rely on the science of intuition. "

"I like to have a diverse time table, for career opportunities. "It was the excuse I agreed to, to myself.

She stared for a long moment before nodding. "I'll see you around, if you want." 

It was a strange way of saying goodbye, she was gone so quickly and I cursed myself for saying nothing about it. I clenched my fists and left the awful patchouli smelling classroom.

I had to get her out of my mind, with my life she didn't fit. She wasn't allowed to, lovely beautiful things didn't survive in my world. I raked my hand through my curls almost violently, the strongest urge to reopen the healed scars on my arms strangled with such hunger. It was an addiction that's for sure, gave me the high of a lifetime, I felt like I was flying before falling into nothingness.

I headed to the boys' lavatory, hoping no one was in there. Just one little slice maybe? That's all I need, then no more for a few days. I'll be okay. 

Once in there, with the flick of my wrist I closed and locked the door. I tossed my satchel and books to the floor carelessly, my mind on one thing and one thing only, sweating in sweet anticipation. I almost moaned as I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and jumper to reveal the pale scars on my arm, scars she healed. "Forget her!" I growled. 

"Forget who, exactly?" A lazy sounding, good natured voice interrupted my privacy.

I whipped around so fast, only to come face to face with James Potter. My brother's number one best friend, the one who stole my brother away.

I hated him for it.

He's so fucking charming, has to just seduce everyone into adoring him. Never had to worry about one bloody thing, parents adored him, loads of money with no strings or obligations attached. He's not just brilliant and so smart without ever picking up a damn book once and studying, no it's all so easy for him. Everyone wants to be his friend, everyone wants to be him, he's athletic, boys and girls want to possess him. And why wouldn't they? He looks like a model, so tall and pretty at a towering height of 5'11 at 15. All very lean muscle, a runner built, perfect for a chaser. Olive skin from his Persian heritage on his mother's side, full, big, rosy lips that are attractively too big for his slim jawline with high cheekbones. He has a perfect noble nose, don't let you forget he's from noble blood on both sides, a descendant of desert princes no doubt. His eyes are as problematic as Lily's, bedroom set, with the thickest and longest, blackest lashes you'll ever see that naturally made it look like he wore kohl. His gold rimmed glasses didn't hide or take away from the amber eyes he possessed, that were like cognac, honey, and Hazel green all swirled in one. They're unsettling pretty. His ebony ringlets were messy and long in a shag and real ruby studded his nose. Why a quidditch player would wear nose jewelry is beyond me, but he loved showing off his expensive jewelry.

He's a spoiled pretty boy, a little shit who hasn't tasted the cruelty of life. Was that lip gloss? Was he trying to make his lips look more whorish? I scowled at his smirk. I felt myself blush and my skin heated up. I looked down at his long slender fingers, cherry red. polish painted his nails. "Can I help you, Reggie?"

I turned back around sharply. "What are you doing here?" I snapped. 

"Um it's a bathroom, what do you think?" He had a twinkling laugh accenting his response.

I froze as he made his way to the sink next time, I clenched mine until my knuckles turned white as he over lathered his gentle hands that never knew suffering, they're pretty. And I smelled him, did I turn into a dog overnight? First Lily, now James? It could be a cologne, a cologne that smells like cherries and fire like cherries jubilee, the fresh morning just when the sun rises, and roses. It was an explosive combination right in your face, provocative to be honest. 

After drying his delicate hands he looked at me. How could someone be so pretty and the quidditch Star of Hogwarts? "Hey…'' his usual cocky smirk dropped from his lips as he eyed me. He almost looked concerned, but he couldn't be. He could care less about me, probably just thinks I'm a pathetic loner.

"That nose ring looks utterly ridiculous!" I snapped before storming out rushing straight to the commons. Lucius tried to call my attention. I heard someone follow me..

Once in my dorm, I noticed it was Barty. He didn't have James' juicy lips and little hips, or his black curls. But he will do, I took my frustration out on him balls deep. Every thrust making me forget how I lusted after someone who thinks I'm a loser, how Lily would be in danger if she was in my life and that I was probably just rebound for her after Marlene, and how even though I'm away from home until December, my parents have eyes and ears in the castle. There's more pressure on me now that I was their last hope.

James just had to get in the way, I needed that release so badly I needed to feel that relief when my skin breaks and rips and the blood bubbles and spills.

This wasn't doing it for me. Barty knows me, knows my sordid ideas of pleasure. "Bite me hard," I grabbed his jaw cruelly. "You know how!" 

With my command as his ring of muscled choked my cock, he bit my neck so hard I did bleed, and I sped up so hard hitting deeper than his spot and spilling in him as my blood spilled down my chest staining my pristine, white shirt.

@sufferingstarlight @meetmyothersouls

[arjaandsimoni]

Song of the Smiling Knight

Andre Gilbert was a legendary figure even in life. A mountain of a man, striding across the battlefield with his head uncovered, showing a madman’s grin as he cleaved through his enemies with ease. He became a hero to his people, a source of inspiration to frightened soldiers and motivation to keep fighting.

Unfortunately even legends fall in time, struck down by another who would grow to be a legend in his own lands. The cycle continued, and for a long time there was peace for Andre’s weary soul.

Until she came.

All was calm and serene for so long, and then that voice, that… soft... sweet… voice. Andre heard the tales of witches, horrible hags cackling in the moonlight, but this voice was so kind and loving, how could he not trust it?

Then, just as suddenly the voice was gone, as was his peace, and he was alone in the field he fell in... a time long beyond any he recognized.

Was it any wonder that frayed him a bit?

A Remote Part of France

“Sooooo...” Patli’s bright voice carried across the open field well. “Can you see the future?”

Francis sighed lightly, rolling his eyes behind his dark lenses. “I can’t see anything, Patli.”

“Not even dark?”

“I don’t know what ‘dark’ is.”

“... Spooky.”

“Dare I ask why you asked?” He continued, cane bouncing off a small divot in the ground the he hopped over gracefully.

“Well, I mean… blind people are often seers. Mom says there were some priests who plucked their eyes out to see the stars better.”

“Can you see the future, then?” He retorted.

“No, but mine don’t count, I got new ones.” Patli smirked, poking the side of her head, her eyes vanishing into darkness inside her head only to be replaced with small green pinpricks of flame. “See?”

“No.” Francis answered flatly.

“Oh… right, yea… Well I can see just fine! In fact my spirit eyes let me look into the spirit world whenever I want to.”

“... Have you not been using them before just now?”

“No?”

Francis let out a low sigh at that, rubbing his head with his empty hand. “Patli we’re hunting a spirit and you didn’t think to start out using your spirit eyes?!”

There was a bit of a pause before the smaller girl gasped softly. “Ooooh! Right!”

“I was hoping at least if you were going to be constantly talking and dulling my hearing you were at least using your spirit vision…”

“Well I forgot okay?!”

“You forgot your lack of eyes?!”

“Well yea, don’t you ever forget you’re blind? It’s just normal!”

“No! I’ve literally never once forgotten I was blind!”

The pair went back and forth as they walked, Alice unable to hide her snickering as she heard them even in the distance.

“Oh gods what are they doing?” Nessa groaned, recognizing the look on Alice.

“Nothing, they just sound EXACTLY like we did when we first started training together…”

“Oh, so Francis is being a haughty little brat then...” Nessa smirked, nudging Alice lightly.

“Mhm, and Patli’s too eager to show off her cool tricks to remember her one job is to support the blind person.” Alice winked, bumping her back.

“Careful, if those two wind up together too, your fancy little French noble line is gonna get all weird and Aztec-y.”

“Oh yea, hate to imagine a world where the Roche family is weird…"

“Just saying, when our great grand nephews are holding ritual pyres to celebrate the harvest don’t blame me. You Roches are insatiable for Aztec girls it seems.”

Meanwhile, as the two older hunters flirted, Patli and Francis were currently… rolling across the field, not quite as romantic as their siblings as they wrestled and yelled at each other.

“Call me that again you fancy pants jerk!” Patli yelped as she rolled down the slope, holding onto Francis’ shirt tightly to drag him with her.

“Happily! BIRD BRAIN!” He responded, trying to wiggle out of her hold as his cane whipped around behind him, thankfully held onto his wrist by a security strap. “Bird brain!” he repeated even as their bodies hit something solid together.

“Ow!” Patli groaned, holding her head. “I think your dumb cane hit me…”

“My… your stupid flailing feet must have hit ME!” Francis grunted in discomfort as he stood, rubbing his side.

“Yea well you’ll know when my feet hit you in one sec-...” Patli started before Francis held his hand up.

“Hold up…” he said, sounding more serious as he adjusted his glasses. “Do you smell that?”

Thankfully rather than make some comment about Francis ‘fancy shampoo’ or the like, Patli recognized the shift in tone, frowning as she shook her head. “No. I mean I smell the wild flowers, the grass, the dirt… all normal field stuff.”

“There’s something else… where are we?”

Patli took the time to assess the surroundings finally, realizing how far off track they’d gotten in their fight. “Oh… shit we’re way off the path, oh man Nessa’s gonna kick my ass…”

“No, I mean is there anything near us? What’d we hit?”

“Uh it’s…a rock? A big rock… Wait this is a REALLY big rock, ONE really big rock, that’s weird isn’t it?”

The two were standing in front of a massive stone monolith. Just as Patli said it was one big stone, carved by expert hands ages ago, covered by moss and other signs of age…

“Does it have writing on it? Help me out here Patli. You need to be my eyes.”

“Right right, one sec.” Patli said, the two moved on from their fight quickly as they realized how much they need the other’s talents.

In a flash Patli was scaling the monolith, fingers not even needing holds as she seemed to fly up it, scanning for signs. “No writing... it looks like there was paint but it’s really old and faded…” She huffed. “There’s a hole at the top though, I’m checking it out.”

Francis quietly had to admit when the girl focused she was actually quite good at communicating… Right up until the cry of ‘heads up!’ A split-second later something heavy thumped against the earth in front of him.

“Damn it Patli! Again, blind! I can’t see when you’re throwing crap!”

“I said heads up!”

“Yea like a second before!” Francis huffed, crouching down to feel the object. It was small, round, and smooth. It felt cold despite obviously being in the sun in its position…

“Huh,” he mused. “Hey Patli what color is this?”

“Black. Like really shiny black, like Nessa’s knife... but it’s not obsidian, I know that.”

Francis felt the thing in his hand a bit more. She was right, obsidian is a more brittle feeling, hard to get this round without chips and cracks… "Hm...” he mused before bringing the stone to his mouth, licking it quickly.

“EW!” Patli shouted from her perch on the rock. “And you call me gross?!”

“Shut up! It’s how I can tell stuff, I’ve got a good tongue...” Francis huffed, blushing a bit, smacking his lips softly. “Huh… this is onyx…”

“The gem?” Patli asked, slowly floating down to join him. “Weird, what’s it mean?” She asked. Despite making fun of his ‘fanciness’ she knew his time in the library paid off for things like this.

“Typically means strength and absorbing negative energies… You said this is a big rock right? I think this might be marking a warrior’s grave…”

“Like The Smiling Knight?” Patli perked up.

“Could be. Nessa said he was a local legend, it’d make sense for him to be honored with a grave symbolizing strength and keeping him safe from negative magics.”

“Didn’t work well if he’s walking around now.” Patli smirked.

“Well, magic wears off. This thing’s pretty small, it may have been part of a bigger idol that got lost or stolen.” Francis offered. “Well if this is his grave the entrance is around here too, can you.”

Before he even finished it Patli was giggling, flying into the air. “Watch out!” She called, thankfully a bit better than before as she gave Francis enough time to scramble out of the way before she let out a loud shriek, enough to make the surrounding recon team cover their ears.

The shriek was effective, though, as horrific and banshee-like as it was, it was also effective at sending the moss and grass that covered the hill that the monolith sat on flying. Soon enough the barrow was revealed, a once proud hill of dirt and clay compressed into a sturdy dome that the monolith stood atop like a crown. In front of it was an old wooden door, showing signs of its ancient age but still standing proud.

“Huh, looks like it is a grave. Good tongue, fancy boy...” Patli grinned, slapping Francis’ back as he came back to join her.

“Yea yea...” he huffed. “Good death scream too, you’ve gotten better at it.” He added.

“Aw… you like me!” The girl teased, walking to the door and pushing it open as Francis sputtered a few times behind her.

“What?! I just said your death scream was better.”

“Yea, which is nicer than ‘bird brain.’” she teased as her eyes once again lit up with their flames.

“Well ‘good tongue’ is nicer than calling me a dumb fancy jerk! So what do you like me too?!”

“Maybe I d-...” Patli’s teasing grin faded quickly as she realized what she was seeing. “How many ghosts are we after, Francis?”

“Uh, one?” He answered incredulously, though grateful for the change in topic.

“There’s… more than one.”

The barrow was small inside, most of the mound’s mass being exterior, leaving just one single burial chamber where a stone sarcophagus surrounded by jars and baskets of tribute sat proudly.

There was only one sarcophagus, but far more ghosts lingering around. The Smiling Knight was there, standing in front of his burial site, surrounded by ghosts that seemed to be from all ages past.

Peasants, nobles, modern farmers, students, soldiers, there must have been almost fifty of them crammed into the tight space as the knight’s ghost held court. Nearly seven feet tall, wearing the shining armor he died in, a now rictus looking grin stretching his mouth wide as his ghostly blue form turned to stare at Patli.

“Have you brought the song?” He asked in a raspy, almost pained sounding, voice. “Have you returned my music?”

“Uh… no?” Patli said, stepping back, putting herself between the spirits and Francis before whispering back “Can that sword cut ghosts?”

“Alice said…”

“And I say, can that sword cut ghosts?” She hissed.

“The silver edge is better for it but it can be tricky still.” Francis responded as he pulled the blade out, feeling the danger around him.

“Stay by me, don’t move unless I do… there’s a LOT of ghosts and I don’t think they’re… well.”

“Where is the song?” The knight’s voice raised, the other ghosts turning to face them as he spoke loud enough for Francis to hear as well. “Are you the one who took it from me?!”

“I don’t know what song you mean, spirit...” Patli spoke, trying to speak with authority even as bits of the wall near her chipped off due to the ghost’s voice. “But I don’t take songs. I am a priestess, a warrior like you, and I’ve come to guide you to the afterlife.”

“I cannot return!” The ghost roared, Francis covering his ears as the booming voice echoed around him. “I will not return to the void, the silence! I cannot! I must have my song!”

“Shit, Patli this is too much, this tomb’s one giant bowl and his voice is…” Francis groaned, unable to focus on anything as the sound around him rocked his senses.

“Yea, come on...” Patli answered, stepping back, guiding him to the door.

“The thieves flee with the song!” The knight roared, pointing to them. “Stop them, servants of the Lady!”

The other ghosts surged forward at that, more mindless seeming than the knight, and devoted to his command as the pair stumbled back. “Damn it, okay fancy boy, change of plans. Sword up!” Patli  said over her shoulder.

“What?” Francis asked, raising his sword as she instructed.

“Focus, okay? We’ve got ghosts coming at us! You NEED to focus, we won't be getting to the door and I’m about to make your sword into a lightsaber so I REALLY don’t want you to get me with it.”

Francis was still fairly confused, but nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to put aside the moaning and the knight’s roaring commands that muddled his senses. He felt the heat from his sword as Patli slid her palm along the blade, spreading blood across it that caused it to ignite in green flame just like Nessa used. 

“Can you feel them?”

He nodded. It was hard, but he could. The heat of the sword helped, he could feel the chill of the spirits, and Patli’s body heat for contrast. He heard her breath, smelled the grave dirt scent that seemed to cling to the ghosts. It wasn’t perfect, but he could keep from decapitating his fellow hunter at least.

“Alright, good! Now we’re gonna go forward, and we’re not stopping until we hit the knight, got it?”

He nodded, taking a high stance he practiced so many times before, now finally using it in real combat…

The fighting was hard at first, the ghosts weren’t very difficult, more like spectral zombies than anything, motivated by mindless hunger and their master’s command more than any tactics, but fighting in close spaces with someone so different took adjusting. At first Patli’s rapid movements disoriented him, her footfalls and cackles of combat throwing off his aim.

He was too slow for Patli as well, every time she tried to bounce off him or weave around him they seemed out of sync. Soon, though, the two found their rhythm, Patli making more precise movements Francis could read better, and Francis fighting more aggressively to work with her.

If any of Andre’s mind remained intact he would have recognized two young warriors growing together, even felt pride that the ways he learned as a youth, in some form, were still alive in his home.

Unfortunately, all that dominated his mind was the silence that somehow rang louder than the battle around him. The absence of the song was a weight on his soul he couldn’t remove, and it drove him mad with anger as he began to see these children as the forces keeping the song from him.

“YOU WILL RETURN THE SONG!” He roared as the final ghost fell to Francis’ glowing blade, bringing his own great axe down brutally at the pair.

Francis grunted as he held his blade up, hearing that massive axehead slice through the stale air fast enough to block it, though the effort to hold it back made his arms shake…

“We don’t have a song! What are you talking about?!” Francis groaned, knocking the ghost’s blade away to get some distance. “We can help you find the song!” he tried. “Just stop attacking and tell us what it was!”

“My lips would defile the song of my Lady if I spoke it!” He growled, lunging forward as Francis dipped aside, letting him stumble past.

“I’m not fuckin Shazam here, buddy! Going to need a little more to work with!” Francis shouted back.

He knew this wasn’t helping, he could tell the ghost was beyond any help. He could, however, buy time, keep his attention as Patli went to work with ‘Plan B’ for ghosts.

The girl slipped past the fighting pair, pushing the heavy lid of the sarcophagus aside to reveal the skeleton within. For a moment she felt a pang of sympathy for him. Tucked so reverently into the burial spot, his armor polished one final time, axe in hand, he clearly was a man of great honor for his people before this.

“May you fight eternally in the realm of the gods, great warrior. Be free of this madness...” she whispered before reaching into her pocket for a pouch of blessed salt, pouring it over his bones.

The ghost shuddered as if feeling some discomfort, groaning as he stopped his swing halfway to glare at Patli. “Disturb not my bones, song thief!” He shouted, lunging at her only to stop as Francis lept on him from behind, plunging his enchanted blade into the ghost’s back as deep as he could.

“Do it Patli!” He shouted, holding on for dear life as he was bucked back and forth like he was riding a mechanical bull.

In a flash, green flames washed over the bones, a wail of anguish coming from the ghost as his body and spirit began to fade together.

“Rest.” Francis grunted as he hopped off the ghost’s back. “Your time has passed, let the calm of eternity soothe your broken mind.”

“You will be honored as a warrior should be, a more dignified fate than this...” Patli added, and for a brief moment the pair could see that smile soften, the madman’s grin fading into a more genuine, relaxed, smile as he felt himself vanish.

“Easy hunt my ass.” Patli panted, the strain of manifesting that fire as well as keeping Francis’ sword alight starting to wear her down.

“Take my arm.” Francis offered, sheathing his blade again as he moved to support her.

“This some fancy pants chivalry?” Patli teased, a bit weaker than she usually did as Francis rolled his eyes, the two making their way out of the barrow together much more unified than they came down the hill to it, at least.

Outside Harlow’s team was already surrounding things, having moved in when they realized the pair were taking too long, but not hearing any signs of distress that’d make them come in… not that Harlow wasn’t ready, hand gripping his pistol’s handle in the holster tight enough to make his knuckles turn white…

“I see them coming out.” Tatyana offered, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think they’re okay.” She smiled, hoping to relax him so the pair didn’t see him so concerned.

“Yea… never doubted it.” Harlow answered with a soft sigh, giving her a grateful look before composing himself just as the pair staggered out. There’d be time for debriefing and reports later, for now all he cared about was getting the two home safely.

As the Roche helicopter took off peace did return to the area, no trace of the spirit remaining as he was finally laid to rest properly once again. Though that peace wasn’t as welcome to everyone as it was to the locals. Deep in the nearby river a figure stirred, snarling in anger as she felt her magic fading away with the spirit.

The lands of France have many legacies.

Legacies of heroes, of hunters, new and old figures carving their own tales into its history. It also has a long legacy of beasts, creatures older than many kingdoms, older than France itself as an entity. They have their own legacies to live up to, and as a skeletal, clawed, hand scraped the now useless sigil that once reanimated the knight, yet another scion of such legacies was rising. After all, some things were best done personally.

Next Story

Previous Story

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Night Gladiolus ~ The Witching Hour (NSFW)

Submitted as entry for Tears of Themis NSFW subreddit here (Prompt #2)

Vyn x Rosa AU where they are new neighbors in a suburban town.

Warning: NSFW. Slight blood play. Also, this is horribly long and self-indulgent, consider yourself warned.

It has been one week since Rosa moved into the town of Stellis, a few minutes bus ride away from her university.

A week ago she managed to snag this cottage-style home with its own backyard, for only less than half of the average rental rates in the area.

While the house was indeed a more humble affair at fifty square meters including a small strip of backyard adorned with wildflowers, for Rosa this was a dream come true; the place was just enough for her to hole up in comfortable solitude with her daydreams, studies, books, lo-fi music, and certain darker thoughts.

Tonight, after putting down her textbooks for the day, she decided to unwind, sipping a cup of cocoa in her tiny yet cozy, cottage-core aesthetic backyard, losing herself in her musings.

The moon hung over the night sky, above the black strips of clouds edged with silver lining.

There was only a small amount of light pollution in this town, letting the stars twinkle brightly--and Rosa, thoroughly enjoying her alone time in her comfortable, homey lodgings, sighed in contentment.

I wish all nights would be peaceful and happy, just like this, came her fervent prayer as she sipped the creamy spiced cocoa. I wish nights for me will be as healing as this moment.

And then, it hit her: the heady smell of flowers carried by the night breeze--a medley of alluring scents, with hints of lemon, honey, vanilla, and certain spices.

Strange. I don't remember ever having night blooms in my garden. Unless...

Curious, Rosa slipped into her moccasins and padded over to the fence separating her backyard from the one next door.

Didn't Miss Taylor say that I have no next door neighbors? And so, armed with that knowledge that there shouldn't be any occupants in the lot behind the fence, Rosa did what she wouldn't normally do as a stickler for privacy: look over the fence and peek into the next door property.

What she saw confounds her: far from an abandoned lot, Rosa saw a carefully-tended garden filled with plants of floral bushes and vines; and from what she could tell so far--based on the rudimentary knowledge that she has on gardening--all of the plants that she could identify were of night variety: night gladiolus, moonflower, night phlox, among other kinds of flowers.

All of which bloom and release their sweet scents at night.

Incredible...the garden is well taken care of...then, how...?

And then she noticed a small gazebo set by the edge of this secret garden...and its occupant.

The person seemed to be a man with pale, pale hair that glinted silver in the moonlight.

He was sitting cross-legged on a garden chair, and--despite that it was nighttime and there was no light source about him except for the moonlight--reading a book.

Suddenly, he looked up, his strange gold cat-like eyes meeting her gaze.

Rosa gasped. Ah damn. Nothing to do but apologize. "Um, hi, neighbor--"

The man put a finger across his lips, as if telling her to be quiet. However it was not to admonish; the moonlight shone on his face brightly enough for Rosa to see that his lips have curled up in a friendly smile.

"I'm Rosa, by the way--ah--" she noticed the man's gesture for her to be quiet a bit too late, it seemed, as the man put his finger down and shook his head, still smiling, as if to say, whatever will I do with this silly person?

Overcome with embarrassment, Rosa ducked behind her side of the fence and, keeping her profile low she snuck back into her house, picking up her now cold cup of cocoa on the way inside.

Somehow, she could not figure out why she was blushing furiously, Was it out of embarrassment for having been caught peeking into his garden, or was it because the man was incredibly beautiful?

===

The witching hour.

Your bedside clock says it is exactly three in the morning. For some reason you stir awake in the stillness. There are no sounds to be heard, and yet--your heart is beating fast against your ribcage. There is something wrong, something amiss.

You try to sit up, but find that you cannot move. Your mind is lucid enough to realize that this may be one of those sleep paralysis dreams--

"Hello, neighbor." The voice comes softly, sweetly, as if it were a lover's whisper.

You can not move, but your eyes can: standing by your doorway is the very same man you spied upon in the next door garden. Clad in a white shirt, dress pants and a waistcoat, he seems to belong from a bygone era.

Moonlight shines upon him through your window; and his hair has absorbed its very color, shining brightly, as bright as the pale gold of his irises.

"Ah, I tried to tell you not to talk to me, but I guess you do not know the ways of my kind," he speaks casually, as if he were a close acquaintance, or even a friend. "You even foolishly told me your name. So now I am here."

Your mouth and throat are dry, but you find that you can still speak. "I--what are you doing here?" Your breathing comes hard and fast, as if about to hyperventilate. "Are you--"

The intruder smiles apologetically and approaches your bed, reaching out to you with his slender, cold, fingers; he gently closed your eyelids with those icy, icy fingertips.

The touch makes you gasp.

"Ssh. I am not here to do you harm. At least...not yet?" His voice is lightly teasing.

You cannot open your eyes any longer, not after your neighborly intruder has closed them shut. Yet oddly enough, you also start calming down...

"You have to forgive me. I find that your kind easily get used to my presence if all you could do is hear me--oh? This is quite an interesting book."

You hear him pick up a book from your nearby desk, where all of your university text books are piled along with your essay paper, or what is supposed to be your essay paper, if only you knew what to write on it. You were so embarrassed earlier that you cannot absorb anything about de Tocqueville...

Despite your lack of eyesight you know he is reading through your materials, with the sound of fingers rifling through pages, pausing every so often as he reads silently...

"Dear neighbor, if I offer you my thoughts on de Tocqueville, will you accept it?" he asks suddenly.

And, without thinking, your answer comes fast--"Yes, I don't know what to write in my essay."

"Yes, I can see that." His small laughter is pleasant as a cool night breeze in the summer. "You are in luck; I have read his books quite...extensively.

"Well then," he begins, "First, keep in mind that his two most seminal works are those that discuss his thoughts on the newly-founded democracy in America during his time, and the other is about his opinion on the so-called French Revolution."

The scraping of chair legs across wooden floor. He has made himself comfortable; you may be in for a long lecture...

Then, comes his voice, still honeyed yet talking with an unmistakable authority on the subject:

"You have to understand that as a Frenchman, Alexis de Tocqueville has put American democracy of early 1800s on a pedestal as a shining example of what he termed as equality in action."

You wonder, as he talks--is this man a teacher, or a professor? In any case, he was more engaging than the professor in your politics class...

"This is somewhat in contrast with his reserved views on French attempts at putting power in the hands of the common people, where they unseated the royal elite, but according to de Tocqueville--only replaced the royals with another group of elites, under Robespierre, whose Reign of Terror..."

You listen intently to your night intruder--now, elevated to the status of visitor--talk animatedly about individualism, democracy, and de Tocqueville's disheartened views on French politics. You do not know how much time has passed, yet you are listening to the man's easy-to-follow lecture and are mentally taking notes on what your thesis statement would be...

"It will also do you good to keep in mind that as you write your essay, remember that de Tocqueville still has a high opinion of humanity in general despite of what he believes to be their mediocrity and fallibility."

His lecture is punctuated with the audible closing of your textbook.

"Well, do you find my thoughts on the matter acceptable, my new neighbor?"

"Wow. Um. Yeah," you say despite your initial panic at having an intruder in your room, in the very house that you live alone. "That was way easier to understand than the lecture in university..."

It is as this moment that you realize you no longer are afraid of his presence. Even if you cannot see him, even as you feel him draw closer to you...

"Dear neighbor, Rosa," he finally calls you by name, your name rolling off sweetly from his tongue. "Now that I have offered you my gift, and you have accepted it, I shall take my share..."

You are not afraid, not like earlier when you first saw him standing by the threshold of your bedroom. Even as you feel his presence looming over your prone body, even as you feel him tonguing the side of your neck slowly, coating that spot where the artery is located with his saliva...

The cold touch of his lips.

"I shall take only a little bit, you still need to wake up early tomorrow to write your essay," he murmurs softly against your neck, the movement of his lips raising goosebumps all across your skin...

Then pinpricks...

===

A week passed by.

Rosa's paper, hastily typed one morning a week ago, has received full marks, earning her a rare praise from the instructor and bumped up her grades enough that (she thinks) she can afford slacking off on the upcoming test.

She only has vague, hazy recollection of what transpired the night before she crammed on that very paper, the paper that she almost gave up on, only to find herself oddly inspired the morning of its deadline, typing like a madman possessed.

All she knew was that she had a strange dream, but was it really a dream if everything discussed about de Tocqueville actually was spot on and earned her the highest score among the class?

She even wrote in things that were not even covered in the chapters assigned as required reading--it was impossible for her to have read them prior to writing the essay. She was not studious enough to use her me time in polishing a paper...

When she tried to catch a glimpse of him again, he was nowhere to be found; not during the past nights--even the lush night bloom garden from her fuzzy memory was nowhere to be found in the property next door. There were only a few nondescript hardy shrubs, certainly nothing as delicate nor beautiful as what she thought she saw that night...

And so, was the beautiful visitor who spoke of de Tocqueville even real?

This very question hung over her head, occupying most of her thoughts so much that she was out of it for most part ever since.

"Hey, Rosa, are you listening to me?" The dark haired boy sighed despondently, tired of having to struggle to keep her attention from flitting away every so often.

He tried to reach out for her hand across the cafeteria table where they were taking their lunch together, but Rosa was too far into her daydream to notice.

"Mm? Oh, sorry Marius," Rosa shook her head, willing herself back to pay attention to the physical plane. "I guess I'm just lacking sleep...haha..."

The boy called Marius crossed his arms, clearly not convinced with her answer. "I don't know, Rosa, I don't think this is working out," he shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "If I can't even have a proper conversation with you for more than five minutes, I think we're just wasting each other's time."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"That's it? I'm sorry?" Marius said, voice heavy with misgiving. "You wouldn't even tell me what it is that is bothering you. You're not telling me what you're thinking of--ever since you moved out of your boarding house..."

He then looked at Rosa straight in the eye, after finally having gotten a response from her. "Tell me, is it another guy?"

Rosa's head snaps up, and she found herself looking at Marius in surprise. "What...?"

Her reaction was so sudden, and it made her look like she was caught.

"I knew it," Marius muttered as he gathered his things. "I knew something was up when you suddenly wanted your own place."

Rosa only looked on as he left, not making any effort to correct his misunderstanding.

She was acutely aware that she was supposed to be upset, having been abandoned by one of her very few precious friends--her boyfriend, to be exact.

But somehow, she wasn't. There was a pang that touched her heart, sure, but it was nothing that she could shrug off.

Maybe it was because the one who she truly longed for was him, who currently occupied most of her thoughts. Her heart swelled only for him, and she could not wait for night time to fall once again.

I am really, really done for, Rosa told herself.

I don't even know if he's real.

===

It is the witching hour once again.

The moment your eyes open you already know what time it is, even before you look at your bedside clock. It is three in the morning.

You know this especially since your room is now slightly perfumed with hints of fruit and spice, hallmark of the scent of night gladiolus.

He is here.

"Hello, little neighbor," comes his voice.

The voice that you have longed to prove that it actually exists, that soft, honeyed, sultry voice that once spoke of individualism and democracy as if they were treatises on how to capture your heart and soul in such a way that you do not want to think of anything else but him, only him.

He of the moonlight hair and golden cat-like eyes stands by your doorway, and this time he is not empty handed; in his arms are spikes of night gladiolus--yellow and green blooms adorn the flowering spikes cradled in his arm.

"You came." Your words come breathlessly, and you try to move to receive him--but you are once again immobile.

He smiles genially, eyes crinkling in a friendly smile overcast with a certain darkness to it. "Of course I will. It is rare for me to find..."

The corners of his mouth curl into a predatory grin. "...food who so willingly present themselves to me."

"Food," you repeat his word, yet the implication does not register in your head. It will, eventually, but it will come much later along with the sunrise.

"But of course, we have to play by the rules." He walks over to you, presenting the flowers that he has brought along to your side. "Do you accept these flowers, Rosa, as my gift to you?"

It is then that you realize, keeping in mind the interaction from the last time; this is their game: they gift you with a boon, like flowers, or knowledge, and if you accept, you are essentially giving them permission to take something from you.

The night gladiolus presented to you are beautiful, and well-tended to...but you know in your heart of hearts that you desire something else entirely.

"I'm sorry. I could not receive these lovely flowers," you whisper to him, a little bit sorry for neglecting the flowers being offered. You sincerely want them in your room, for their scent to permeate your room and remind you of his nightly presence.

"I see, that is too bad," he looks disappointed, but recovers himself quickly. "Do you need, or desire something else, then?" His eyes look at you, piercing you with such a gaze that makes you think he is reading your very thoughts.

"If you let me move, you may know the answer," you dare say to him, never minding that you are unsure if you do have the upper hand over him in this situation--you have something he wants, yes, but who is to say you are the only one who could give it to him?

"Ah. I generally find it unnecessary, but for my lovely neighbor I may consider an exemption." He bends over, just enough to allow the lightest of touches from his fingertips to land on your forehead.

You feel the quagmire holding you in place dissipate, and your can now freely move your limbs, your body...

And the very first thing you do, after sitting up, is to throw your arms around your visitor's neck, pulling him down to your lips for a kiss.

His lips are cold, as are the rest of him, it seems, but the temperature difference does not deter you from wanting a taste. Instead, you find yourself craving the way it cools down the heat of your own skin.

He slightly parts his lips in response to your brash approach; he neither welcomes nor pushes you away, yet he allows you to slip your tongue past his lips to find his, he allows your hands to roam his body as you try to confirm his physical presence--yes, he is here with you. Yes, he is real and not a figment of your imagination.

Then your hands slide upwards to let your fingers thread through his wispy silver hair, pulling you ever closer to deepen your kiss--

And you feel something sharp poke your tongue, iron-tasting fluid starting to trickle into both your mouths.

It is then that you decide to pull away from your kiss, blood dribbling from the edge of your mouth. You notice his gaze directed at it.

"There, that is the gift that I want. Your kiss." You blush, somehow sobering up a little after realizing how brazen your act is. "What is the price I have to pay?"

"This," he says, and this time it is he who pulls you closer to him and kisses you deeply, with his mouth sucking the blood trickling from the puncture wound on the side of your tongue.

The way his sucking keeps going, and going for some time makes you remember how people in certain cultures threaten suicide by biting their own tongue, if threatened under duress...

You wonder if this is your death, blood loss through a kiss. Somehow, you do not find the idea so repulsive, and you welcome it, even.

"No, of course not, little girl," he laughs softly against your lips, before surfacing. "The idea may be alluring, but trust me when I say it is more excruciating than how you think it is."

You blink at him, slightly confused. Did he just--

"Yes, I can skim surface thoughts," he helpfully fills in the blanks for you. "And yes, I am real; yes, I am not a figment of your imagination," he said, echoing your thoughts from earlier.

You feel terribly exposed; for the very first time you feel fear tinged with humiliation. You absolutely have no cards to hold to your chest. He has everything in his hands, and you have nothing to bargain with.

You are trapped in his arms, and it is you who willingly put yourself in that position.

"Do not be afraid; it only means I can see glimpses of your thoughts, but not your heart," he smiles, trying to reassure you. "I do not like playing games, in any case. I am not a faerie.

"For me it is all give and take. The law of conservation of energy." You feel his arms encircling your waist, holding you firmly close to his. "And yes, you walked right into this, but that is already neither here nor there.

"I am feeling very generous now, my pet," he regards you with a smile that makes you feel like you are a specimen that happens to capture his interest at the moment. "So, ask. Ask another boon. It will not be free, of course, but I feel like spending more time with you."

Your fear and your pluck coalesces into something that stirs the suicidal in you so you ask, "You mention the law of conservation of energy. Does this mean as long as I ask for something, you will ask something of equal value in return?"

"That is the spirit of the law, yes. So as long as you keep it in mind, you will see the sunrise."

"I see. Well then, I am going to go ahead and ask a gift."

"Go ahead, I am listening."

He probably already knows what you want. But you now have a grasp of how they play--they need it verbally said, as a form of contract.

"I want you."

Once again, his laugh comes out gentle, soothing, kind, but with the undertone of a little cruelty. "I will pretend I did not hear it. Just this once. You need to consider the wording of your request carefully, if you want to live."

He touches your lips with a finger, idly tracing the outline of your lips. "Now, speak, what do you desire of me?"

"I..." You close your eyes, willing your brain to work overtime, a hard feat when you feel your night visitor's hands languidly roam your body: you feel his hands run across your back; your sides; even cresting your breasts.

"I want your...companionship for the remainder of the night," you say.

"Companionship means many things, little girl," he drawled. "Speak clearly. You need not hide behind euphemisms."

"Then." You take a deep breath, and say it: "I want to fuck you."

"Perfectly worded."

"What is the price I have to pay?" You ask as your fingers start to fumble with his clothing. He wears more layers than the average person, but you are not in any hurry. Sunrise will come late in this month approaching the winter solstice: you have a little over three hours, at least.

"The transaction can be simply put as, you take your pleasure, and I will then take mine," he says as he passively watches you hungrily get him into a state of undress. "Keep in mind, of course, that my idea of pleasure may differ from yours."

Then, he bends ever so slightly so his lips tickle your ear: "I will be gentle," comes his whisper, erotic and sultry.

Your breath hitches at this, and you lose it--you find yourself grabbing your visitor by the arms to push him onto your bed.

He lets himself be led, clearly amused by the turn of events, lets you straddle his waist, lets you take his kiss once again as your fingers and hands struggle with his clothing--why isn't he helping you, you think frustratingly--parting his waistcoat as soon as you are done with all of its buttons.

"Fine," He smiles teasingly as he put his hands to work alongside yours: he unclasps his sleeve garters, loosen and slips off his necktie. "I will allow this much as an...extra service." He then proceeds to unbuckle his belt for you.

"Do your kind always have to do everything in such a transactional manner?"

"Of course. It is you humans who take too many things for granted."

Eventually with his help you manage to shed off most of his clothing, exposing his bare pale skin to your scrutiny. He watches you as you tentatively run your hands across his chest, his belly, to his cock still flaccid; you clearly have work to do, so you--

"Ah, about that," he cuts you off from going down on him. Instead, he pulls you to him down on the bed, his mouth trailing kisses from your lower jawline to that tender spot on your neck where the artery could be accessed.

You feel him tonguing that particular place on your neck, the tiny, wet massaging so erotic that it sends heat rushing to your groin. A low moan escapes your lips, worked up so much that you feel your nipples hardening already at his slow licks.

Then you feel tiny pinpricks as his fangs sink into your flesh, his cold lips latching on to your skin as he helps himself so your blood. A groan rises from his throat as he holds you to him even closer while he is drinking, his tongue still working on your skin as he sucks more of your lifeblood.

"Mm.." His lips unlatches from your neck, and he gives the puncture wounds he made one last languorous lick to heal them closed. "Hahh. That...that should be enough."

He takes one of your hands, and guides it to his cock, now fully erect. "Well? All ripe for your taking."

You blush as you touch his shaft, groping it, feeling it stand proud against your palm.

You're used to being led during foreplay, but now with a partner who absolutely does not want to lead you to keep the division of pleasure clear--you are forced to come up with your own ways to alleviate your lust.

Swiftly you remove your nightclothes, and start to slip off your panties--already wet, a thin trail of wetness connecting the crotch of your panties to your mound stretching out until it breaks into nothingness once your panties reach your ankle.

"Excuse me," your voice comes out strangled with desire as your ride one of his thighs, rubbing your hardened, sensitive clit against his cold skin. Your breaths come ragged as you shamelessly gyrate your hips to grind your arousal against him, your juices leaving a trail of your moist lust on his cold skin, marking him.

Oh god. I want to fuck him so bad, comes your thought as you move from his thigh and prepare to mount him--his cock still standing, waiting to be tended to.

"I'll do it now," you say breathlessly as you rub the cockhead against the entrance of your slit. No longer able to hold yourself back you lower yourself on him, burying his entire length into you, letting yourself be filled...

The sensation of being filled alone turns you on so much that you had to bite your finger to stifle your moaning, but you feel him take hold of your hand, pulling it away from your lips.

"I want to hear your voice," he says. "It has been such a long time since someone has wanted me this way."

You start to move your hips, leaning your body a little bit forward and planting your palms on his chest. His cock slips in and out of your pussy, solely with only your movements, the sensations sending you to such a frenzy that you do not care that he is not moving at all.

Ah shit, you exclaim inwardly. Do I really have the capacity to be this horny? You could not put this into spoken words--your mouth is too busy moaning every time his cock hits your inner walls.

"It looks like it, yes you do," your visitor chuckles, yet his voice comes out strained--he is also worked up. He licks his lips as he looks at your deliciously lewd grinding with pure lust.

Your breasts bounce as you fuck him with abandon, and thankfully he decides to lend you help by running his cold palms against your sensitive nipples. The exquisite sensations run through your body and gather to your aroused slit, now exceedingly wet and dribbling your cream around his shaft.

"Mnh...I can't take it anymore--ah..."

And then, as if out of the blue, you realize that all these time you still do not know his name, and you would like to moan his name out loud as you orgasm--

"Call me Vyn," he pants, his hands finally sliding to your hips. "Will you call out my name when you come?" he groans softly as you now feel him meet your movements with his own thrusts, holding you in place by your hips.

"Yes, oh, oh damn--" You moan as one of your hands now slip to your sex, being pummeled by Vyn's hard length; your fingertips now strum your now sensitive, hungry clit with urgency. "Vyn," his name comes first as a whimper through your lips, and then you repeat his name, over and over, as impending pleasure builds up until you come undone, your sex quivering around his shaft. "Vyn!" you finally shout his name, whose owner is still not letting up with his pumping inside you until you slump over his chest.

You almost black out with sheer pleasure--and so you remain draped over his cool body as you catch your breath.

You feel his lips graze the top of your head. "Well, was that satisfactory?" comes his question. "This gift of pleasure?"

"Mmm. Hell yeah," your crude humor surfaces in his presence somehow, especially in such a lewd situation. "So good."

"Then I shall take what is rightfully mine," Vyn declares, and he sits up on your bed. "Sit on my lap, pet."

Still a bit lightheaded, you comply and plant yourself onto his lap. His erection is still poking at your ass, making it hard to ignore.

"Never mind that for now," he says as his teeth lightly graze random spots on your skin: your cheek, the side of your neck, a shoulder, your collarbone, a breast, among many other spots.

You think he is merely tickling you, until you feel a slight sting from the night breeze coming through your open window, making you look down on your body...

And see several rivulets of your blood flowing down your skin, the dark red trickling downwards from the sliver-thin wounds made by his fangs, running their course down your body; finally settling at the folds at edges of your thighs.

Finally satisfied with his handiwork, he laps up your blood off your skin, humming as his tongue runs the length of your belly upwards between your breasts.

"Delicious," he murmurs against your skin. "Like fine wine."

He continues lapping up the blood off your skin, the wet caresses of his tongue slowly working you up again, prompting you to touch yourself....but Vyn takes away your hand that was about to provide relief.

"Not yet." His lips let go of your nipple to say those words. "That comes after. Have patience."

You whimper at his words, then let out a soft moan as you feel his fang graze your areola, only to be soothed by his lips and tongue.

This goes on for several minutes, until your skin is licked clean of your blood and all wounds healed.

"Hahh...delicious," he murmurs as he licks his lips. "But I am not done yet..."

Your world suddenly turns as he pushes you onto the bed, lying on your back. "Ah--what are you doing?" you exclaim as he grabs you by the thighs, draping them over his shoulders so that your pussy is lifted to his lips.

The rest of your body is hiked up, making blood flow directly to your head, causing you to feel lightheaded.

"Eating you out, Rosa. Could you not see?" he says after a flick of his tongue at your slit.

This elicits a loud moan out of you, and you thank all gods who could be listening in that the landlady rented you a detached housing unit with no neighbors--with the exception of Vyn--so there is no one to hear your wanton, lewd mewling.

And then, once again, pinpricks this time on your labia.

Vyn hums as his tongue laps up the blood, the tip of his tongue running the length of your slit and making sure to flick at your clitoris every so often. His ministrations fill the room with lewd slurping sounds, sounds that make you cream yourself once again, sounds that make you want to touch and rub your clit until you come senseless under his tongue and lips...

"Oh shit, oh shit," you moan as your hands now grip your sheets. "Tell me, Vyn, are you also going to do the same with menstrual blood?"

He laughs at this question. "Only if I'm drinking from the source and not off the pad, silly girl." Then he resumes eating you out with abandon.

"Please, Vyn, I want to come," you eventually cry out, almost sobbing. "I want to come again."

"It will cost you," he murmurs in between slurps.

"Ugh, just take what you will, dammit!"

You then feel him take your clit in between his lips, and, with his tongue flicking at the same time he lightly sucks on your bud, throwing you over the edge of sheer pleasure.

And you shout his name, once again, into the night.

"That is the second time that you have reached your climax," Vyn reminds you as he puts your thighs down, stretching your entire body down your bedsheets. "That will be extra, and I will be taking even more. Do you understand?"

You nod weakly. At this point you do not care whatever Vyn has in store for you.

"Well then," he wraps your thighs around his waist, his erection effortlessly slipping once again into your still-hungry sex. "I shall take it now."

He starts railing your pussy hard, hard and fast.

Vyn reaches out to pull you towards him in a straddling position, so that he can easily access your artery at the neck. Once again, he licks that spot on your neck; once again, his fangs pierce your skin and your artery.

Once again, he drinks. As he relentlessly fucks you, making you bounce on his lap with abandon, his lips latched to your neck as he feeds.

He must have been feeding on your blood so much that you feel your consciousness slip away, slowly...

Your sight blurs, the heated and erotic sensation of him fucking you hard overtaking the rest of your senses.

And, as you start blacking out, your thought is

I am dead.

That's fine.

===

By the time Rosa opened her eyes her room is already bathed a bright orange. Disoriented, not knowing if it was sunrise, or if it was the beginnings of sunset, she peeked at her bedside clock: five-thirty four PM.

She had slept in so much that she missed the entire day's worth of classes.

Rosa tried to sit up, but felt too lightheaded to move, and so she flopped back onto her pillows and sheets, and that was when she noticed the flowering spikes laid out onto her pillow: night gladiolus flowers.

Suddenly, everything rushed back to her, every steamy detail, every lewd sensation.

Didn't I refuse these? Why are these here?

And then, something clicked in her mind: He left it here, as a gift.

And Vyn will come back once again to collect his due.

Rosa smiled at the realization, and, immensely turned on with anticipation, she reached down to touch herself.

[bruhstories]

Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

[rebrandedbard]

number 42 for the drabble prompts please? :)

42. “I swear it was an accident.”

tw: death (not of main characters), kinda gross corpse descriptions

WC: 2456

Poet’s Sight

Jaskier keeps falling in with dangerous creatures and Geralt is starting to think he’s cursed. That is, until Geralt takes a contract for a noonwraith and Jaskier gets ahead of him. It is then Geralt remembers something important about the nature of rare poets.

-

That made the third time. Three monsters in as many months, and Geralt was starting to worry. Somehow, Jaskier had a habit of stumbling upon the creatures before him, even when he was doing his best to stay away from the fight. Though his medallion offered no hints, Geralt felt sure Jaskier had been cursed somehow. There was no other explanation for it. For two of the hunts, Geralt had not yet arrived in town, would not have been able to defend Jaskier if he got himself into any kind of trouble, and Jaskier had been entirely unaware of the contracts. But this had been the final straw. As things were, Jaskier ought not to be living.

“I swear, it was an accident,” Jaskier said. “The light was low and it seemed like any ordinary dog. I swear, it was an ordinary dog. It had fur and everything—nothing at all as you described.”

Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s shoulders, the corpse of the beast just yards away from where they stood. “It was a barghest. Do you have any idea how much danger you were in! It would have eaten you alive if I let it, torn you from the bowels out!”

“But it…”

“They don’t have a quality of mercy.”

Jaskier stared at the corpse. He wore a pinched expression, not quite comprehending the vision before him. The fleshy, mutated monster looked so much larger, so much more twisted than it had moments before. Its odd tongue, prickled and forked, flopped out from its foaming maw. That same tongue had felt the same as any dog’s before as it licked Jaskier’s face. It had been smooth and slimy and affectionate. And it had not had such large teeth.

He’d gone out to fetch more wood for the fire—really, he’d gone out to relieve himself in private—and he’d happened upon a dog among the bushes. It had looked perfectly sweet in the moonlight: a shaggy brown and white thing with a fluffy, wagging tail. It had followed after him on his way back to camp. Jaskier had always been fond of dogs, so he’d stopped awhile to pet it. Really, it had been friendly. It curled up at his feet and allowed him to scratch it behind the ears. Everything had been just fine, and he’d just picked up a large stick to initiate a quick game of fetch when Geralt came crashing out of the trees, sword raised.

“It was an ordinary dog,” Jaskier whispered. He still had the stick in his hand.

Geralt looked Jaskier in the eye. His nostrils flared ever-so slightly, as if scenting for a lie. The lines in his face smoothed and he sighed, prying the stick from Jaskier’s grasp. “I thought you’d seen it. The way you raised the stick …” He looked at it. It would have snapped in an instant in a true fight. He tossed it near the barghest’s corpse and turned Jaskier back towards camp.

“… You felt fur?” he asked.

Jaskier nodded. “Soft as anything.”

“I don’t understand it. To you, it was as if it were nothing more than a dog.”

“Perhaps I’m seeing things wrong. Was it …  as it tasting me before the feast? When I pet it, was it simply waiting to size me up? Oh, Geralt, what if I’ve had my mind taken over by a witch? Am I seeing visions? Are you real?”

He reached up to grope at Geralt’s cheeks, pulling them and prodding at his armour, his swords, and his chest. Geralt pulled his hands away carefully and shook his head.

“There’s not a trace of magic around you as far as I can tell,” he grunted.

“Then we’ll have to find someone who can tell these things. I’m scared, Geralt. I already lack the ability to defend myself in other ways; if I don’t know when to run, I’ll surely wind up dead before the year is out, if not sooner!”

Probably sooner, Geralt thought. “We’ll consult a mage. There are curses strong enough to evade detection from the medallion. They’re rare, but not unheard of. A mage would be able to tell us more: what kind of curse it is and how to lift it.”

As they stepped into the safety of the firelight, Roach raised her head, flicking her ears towards Jaskier. He wobbled over to her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She sniffed him, then turned her ear to Geralt for answers.

Geralt was looking at Jaskier carefully. It would be too dangerous to stay in the woods another night. Where there was one barghest, there were bound to be others. He would keep watch until first light, then they’d set out for the next town.

“Jaskier,” Geralt called.

Jaskier uncurled from Roach’s neck.

“I want you to stay in town for my next contract,” he said. “You’ll under a curfew until this gets resolved: indoors between dusk and dawn. I want you on the inn grounds whenever I’m not present. Are we understood?”

Jaskier balked at being confined indoors. “Can’t I come along with you?” he asked.

“No. If this is a curse, you might be a danger to me on contracts. To me and yourself.” It would be a greater liability than merely getting underfoot. This thing seemed to attract danger, or else to pull Jaskier towards danger. Either way, he was staying put somewhere safe.

“But Geralt—”

“I won’t hear any argument,” Geralt snapped. He narrowed his eyes, pinning Jaskier with a glare. “Do you remember what happened two weeks ago? You heard a woman cry in the middle of the night. And what did you do?”

Jaskier sighed and flopped down on his bedroll. “She didn’t wail like a banshee. And I’ve told you a hundred times over: she looked human! I held her hand! You can’t hold the hand of a ghost,” he protested. “And what’s more, she spoke. It wasn’t nonsense. How was I to know what she was if I can’t trust my own eyes and ears?”

He lay down in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Geralt could feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves. “What I find odd is that none of them so far have hurt me,” he mumbled.

“That’s because I came in time to save your satin-covered ass,” Geralt replied.

“I was with the banshee for hours, Geralt. You didn’t arrive in town until the middle of the night. Why would she wait to kill me when she had me already?”

Geralt thought about it. A banshee was more often an omen than an outright threat, though still dangerous. He’d stayed close to Jaskier for the next three days to see what dreaded fortune the omen foretold, but he’d not come to any harm in that time. Then again, he’d never heard of a banshee speaking before. It was possible Jaskier had not been with her for hours as he claimed, for if his senses were betraying him, how could he know the passing of the time? His accounts were questionable until this was resolved.

When they arrived in town the next morning, it was just before noon. There was no inn, but they were given permission to stay in one of the farmer’s barns. Geralt went to the alderman for a contract and left Jaskier safely behind, composing in among the hay. It was a noonwraith, Geralt discovered, that had been withering the fields. He oiled his sword and returned to the edge of town to wait for it to appear.

On the way, he stopped by the barn to update Jaskier. He was surprised to hear no music within. When he looked, he did not see Jaskier dozing among the hay. He was not where he’d left him at Roach’s side. Listening closely, he heard no heartbeat within. Jaskier was gone.

Geralt cursed and tore himself from the barn. “Jaskier!” he called. But Jaskier was not about. Geralt followed the trail of his scent toward the fields, his feet pounding on the dry earth. He’d made Jaskier promise not to leave the barn. He’d damn well better be enchanted to wander off so mindlessly on his own.

“Miss? Little miss, would you please slow down! I’m not supposed to be out here!”

Geralt turned his head toward the sound of Jaskier’s pleas. There, down the hill, he saw a flash of blue among the yellow stalks. Jaskier was running along the edge of the field, one arm out as if chasing something. He was shouting in his worried voice. As Geralt watched, Jaskier paced in front of the boundary, hesitating before an opening in among the tall crops.

“Little girl?” Jaskier called. “This isn’t a game! You bring me back my ring this instant!” Then, he called out again, diving into the fray.

But Geralt had seen no girl.

Geralt charged down the hill and entered the fields full-tilt. He followed the trail, catching up from behind, listening as he did. His sword was at the ready. The sun was already approaching its apex, and soon the wraith would be out. If it wasn’t out already.

“Troublesome girl!” Jaskier gruffed. “First she steals my ring, then she drops it in the dirt like a seed among the ro—”

There came a pause, and Geralt heard a stalk break somewhere ahead by Jaskier. His voice came again from the same place. “Well, that’s an odd find. Popped up like a lucky charm. Did the thing grow through you?”

The wind stirred, carrying Jaskier’s words clearly, though he was still too far to reach. Geralt’s blood ran cold. His medallion was trembling against his chest, warning of the wraith’s arrival.

“Oh? Is it yours, young lady?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt felt the panic wash over him. A ring in a field. A token from the wraith. The idiot ought not to have touched it! She’d make him the target of her wrath, dry up his soul into a husk, and force him to waste himself away like the withered stalks around them with only—

“A dance?” Jaskier asked. He laughed, voice ringing clear above the wind. “Oh, very well, but only a very short one; I’ve still got to find that little girl, give her a lecture about respecting personal property.”

Geralt was almost upon them. He could see the clearing in the field ahead, the strong sunlight filtering through. Jaskier’s voice was clearer, and the wind had a strange quality to it. It seemed to lull in time to Jaskier’s speech.

“Sister? Ah, then I’d best go easy on her,” Jaskier said. He was moving away quickly now. The wind blew, and suddenly Jaskier was laughing, bright and clear. “Buried your mother’s ring? What a scamp! And you’ve been out here every afternoon liking for it since—and no wonder! It’s a lovely piece. May I?”

Geralt broke through the field in time to see Jaskier dancing with the wraith. She was a hollowed thing, burned by the sun, her hair bleached white. They turned once, then Jaskier lowered himself on one knee and, taking the wraith’s hand, slipped the ring onto her finger.

“There!” Jaskier said. “You know? Our rings almost make a pair.”

The wind blew and Jaskier appeared to be listening. He laughed, patting the wraith’s hands, and the wind stopped blowing. “Oh no, I’m afraid I’m spoken for. It would make a lovely engagement ring, but not to me. Even so, I don’t suppose a kiss would be amiss.” And so he leaned forward and kissed the wraith’s cheek, as if she were not a lifeless husk.

Geralt was stunned. It was … it was as if the wraith were speaking to Jaskier. He watched the two of them start up the dance again. He’d witnessed the dancing of noonwraiths before, and their victims screamed in horror until their final breath. The wraith made them dance in a mad frenzy until they fell to the ground, dead from exhaustion and terror. This dance was a frolic, full of laughter. It was unhurried as Jaskier allowed himself to be twirled round and round. When the dance came to an end, it had not been any more than the length of a song. Jaskier tilted his head, listening while the wind whistled in the field.

“So soon?” he asked. “Well, I thank you for the lovely dance. You be sure to tell your sister to mind her manners for me, won’t you? I’ve got to head back myself before I give my witcher a fright. I—oh, there she is now!”

Geralt turned to look where Jaskier was waving, but he saw nothing at all.

“You mind your sister,” Jaskier said, wagging a finger at the empty air. “You’re much too old to be getting up to these tricks.”

And at once, Geralt understood. Jaskier was a poet. There were poets in this world who were made of a different cut—who could see beyond the limits of the physical world. The banshee, the barghest, the wraith … and Geralt was sure even now that Jaskier was shaking his finger in the face of a ghost. They were all of the other realm.

He had sight.

Jaskier waved as the wraith began to fade through the field, disappearing. “Take care!” he called. “And be careful on your way. There’s a contract in town, so there’s trouble about somewhere. Have no fear, we’ll be sure to make everything safe, my witcher and I.”

At that, Geralt snorted, and Jaskier turned his head.

Jaskier turned pale at once, clutching his hands to his chest. “Ger—I can explain, Geralt!” he stammered. “I swear, I would have stayed in the barn, but this little girl came in and she stole my ring right off my finger! It’s my father’s ring, and I couldn’t just let … her …” Jaskier blinked, staring at Geralt, perplexed. “Are you laughing?”

Indeed Geralt was. All the stress from the last three months bubbled up and escaped as laughter, shaking his shoulders.

Jaskier chuckled along nervously. “I would have thought you’d be furious with me for running out. Erm … did you finish your contract then?”

Geralt clapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’d say you finished it for me today,” he corrected. “And I’ve just figured out the answer to your little curse.”

Jaskier perked up slightly, realizing he wasn’t in trouble just yet. “Is that so? Will you tell me then?”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Geralt smiled and rubbed the ash from Jaskier’s lips with his glove. “Never,” he said, “kiss another noonwraith again.”

“Kiss a what?” Jaskier squawked.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! < This is Part 19!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

Song Here- (X)

Big thanks to @imdoingathingmom​ and @bbibbisan​ for doing a sensitivity read! 

* This could be worse, you remind yourself as you feed your deer

* Much, much worse

* “How much am I supposed to give them?” The tall, ebony colored man says from beside you, his bright red eyes seem to glow under the pale moonlight

* “Um.. for that one, you can feed it as much kale as you want, but be careful James, he’s kinda insatiable. He’ll eat your clothes if you give him the chance”

* James nods, tearing the kale in careful ribbons.

* He smiles when the deer eats right out of his palm.

* You’re not going to lie, you were 100% surprised when the blond turned out to be Laurent and the black guy was James

* You were even more surprised when he asked if he could help you feed your animals

* You watch him smile as he gives the deer a gentle pat, feeding it more kale

* Yeah, you’re having a hard time believing the teddy bear in front of you is some psychopath tracker

* The story went that while you and Edward were out, the coven decided to play some baseball up in the mountains, and the sound caught their attention as they were passing through

* Apparently this was a fast friends situation, because Carlisle and Laurent have been reminiscing about their geezer pre-colonialism days

* You look to the house, you can see Edward’s inside from the window, his eyes meet yours and he gives you a small smile

* Well that seems hopeful

* “I used to take animals before I turned” James’s deep voice calls you back to the situation at hand

* “Oh were you a farm hand?” You’re peeling an orange, which Henrietta the third is already licking at impatiently

* “Um, not quite, I was a slave”

* You stop peeling the orange

* James tells you his story- he was a third generation slave, fathered from the master, his mother passed away shortly after his birth

* “I was lucky- in a sense, the master -my father- he was a superstitious man, and my mother- she had a reputation”

* His mother was a slave in name only, was what he told you. She was more of a mistress or a concubine.

* “At least that’s what they said, Though I’m not sure how much of that is true, I’m fairly certain she didn’t enjoy being with him. She was just trying to survive”

* His mother had been ostracized, even amongst others like them, but not because of her social position in the household

* “They thought she was a witch,” he admitted. “Bad things happened to people who wronged her, and good things happened to those who helped her”

* That sounds like Alec and Jane

* “When she was on her death bed, she laid a “curse” on the owner of the plantation, that if I wasn’t taken care of she would haunt him and bring misfortune on the entire family for several generations”

* And so, James became the unfavorable third son of the Pickett family.

* “I had many opportunities from her sacrifice, I learned to read and write, but I was more or less shunned from the house- both by my family and by the other slaves”

* It was lonely, almost painful.

* “But there was one thing, a ray of light-“ his eyes flit towards the window, and you follow his gaze to the red haired woman in the green chair

* “Victoria, she was my eldest brothers fiancé”

* The youngest daughter of the wealthiest man in town, from the outside she was a blossoming socialite

* The most beautiful girl in town

* But behind closed doors...

* Victoria was the product of an affair, a mistresses child, reluctantly brought into the household when her mother passed

* “She had big dreams, she loved to read, she yearned to study, to educate herself, to use her mind”

* And so, two lost souls found each other

* “Our family would never have allowed it. So we decided to run away together” he smiles, but it’s bitter.

* They claimed he had abducted her, perhaps to save face, and sent slave catchers to find them.

* “I’m not quite sure what happened-I remember being shot and telling Victoria to go in without me- all I ever wanted was for her to be happy.”

* This is heartbreaking

* “When I woke up, Laurent was there, and my throat burned”

* So Laurent had been with them for all that time, he was their creator

* “Afterwards the three of us worked in ‘the underground railroad’ helping slaves to the north where they could be free”

* “I’m thankful to him, for saving us, we wouldn’t have been able to be in a world where we could be together if it weren’t for him-“

* “But you wonder what the trade off is” you finish and he nods

* No longer human

* Purpose only lasts so long in this life, after all human life only has meaning because you know one day it will end

* “I found a penchant for tracking, it turns out what they said about my mother might have held some truth”

* James calls it “extreme luck”, there’s no other word for his gift.

* If he’s looking for something - or someone- it’ll inevitably find him through pure luck. Like the world bends to his will

* But it only works with finding things

* “These days we work as bounty hunters, and we only feed from people beyond redemption”

* Murder and rapists it sounds like

* “I didn’t know there was another way”

* “That’s understandable, I didn’t know either until I met Carlisle” he looks at you with kind eyes, and so with a deep breath you tell him your story

* About the Volturi, your parents, Alec and Jane-

* “I think you would like them, they’re a little off putting at first, but they warm up pretty fast”

* “Like cats” he says

* “Like cats” you agree

* You tell him about meeting Carlisle, how he saved you,

* how Eleazer gave you a home and a family,

* and about Edward, who gave you a chance to live

* Not just to survive, but to truly live

* “We’re not so different you and I” James says with a smile, and you mirror his expression

* “No we aren’t”

* Though of course you wouldn’t compare the relatively privileged life you had to his

* But the loneliness you both experienced is not all that different

* The tie that binds you all

* And then you do something you’ve never done before

* “You know, I don’t belong to this coven, not really” it’s the first time you’ve admitted it to anyone

* “Oh?”

* “My coven is in Denali, they have a permanent settlement there, and they follow the er... same alternative lifestyle”

* He laughs

* “I’m sure they would love two or three more, we’ve got like thirteen spare rooms in that house”

* You still remember the antiquated scooby Doo mansion-esque hallways filled with armor and swords

* He looks at you for a long time, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable

* “I won’t follow another leader”

* You nod, that’s understandable.

* Laurent created them, and it seems he’s happy with their current lifestyle, they won’t betray him

* “Not unless it’s you”

* ........

* What?!?!

* “M-me?” You sputter, your orange peel filled hand clutching your chest

* “Why would you want to follow me? I’m only nineteen years old- I don’t even have a high school degree yet!”

* He laughs at your panicked expression

* “You know that doesn’t matter to our kind,” his eyes twinkle as he looks at you.

* “Call it witchcraft if you like, but you’re going to accomplish great things, I can feel it deep in my bones”

* Garrett had said the same thing, but the way James says it-

* You really believe it.

* He doesn’t want anything from you you, not a kiss or a date-

* He just wants to be your friend, to be apart of your vision

* Whatever it may be

* “Here’s my card-“

* He holds out his business card to you, unlike Garett’s it’s a cheap cardboard white with his profession and number on the front

* “If you ever find yourself in need of someone to help with your animals, let me know”

* You nod, taking his card in your hands

* “Um there’s one more thing I could use your help with-“

* He points to the large window, right at Alice

* “I know that girl but she doesn’t seem to know me.”

* “Well how does that work”

* He tells you how many years ago, a woman was looking for her sister.

* “It was a bit of a Cinderella story”

* The woman’s father had remarried quickly after his wife’s death, and the step mother had sent his children away. The younger sibling, his client, was lucky and was sent to a relative.

* But the older, who had suspected something amiss had happened to her mother, was sent to a mental asylum

* “You know me, I find things, it’s my gift.”

* But when he found the girl, she was no longer human. Already turned.

* “I tried to approach her, but she didn’t seem to remember anything”

* “Alice doesn’t have any of her memories from before she turned, she woke up in the woods all alone”

* The only thing guiding her were her visions.

* James nods solemnly

* “Should I...should I tell her?”

* You look to Alice.

* She’s smiling at something Victoria said.

* How many nights has she spent wondering who she really was, feeling so happy she had a family and a partner, but wondering if she left someone behind

* How would she feel when she found out?

* “I think you should tell her.”

* If it was you, even if it hurt, you would want to know

* James nods

* “Okay”

* You walk inside together, and immediately look to Edward

* Your own personal vampire lie detector

* “He did lie about one thing-“ Edward tells you once James pulls Alice aside.

* Was he actually tracking Alice to hunt her?

* Your heart drops at the thought

* “His mother didn’t die from natural causes, she committed suicide because she knew it would secure his future” Edward tells you with a somber expression.

* “He just didn’t want you to feel bad”

* You smile and nod.

* What a strong person, you can’t even imagine

* Edward pulls you into his arms, placing a soft kiss in your hair

* You feel bitter sweet about the whole thing

* Especially as you watch them leave in the morning, right before you’re going to head off to school

* Jasper is holding Alice who seems vulnerable, but relieved

* They’re leaving so soon, you didn’t even get a chance to get to talk to Victoria or Laurent

* You watch James stand next to Victoria, they’re talking to Carlisle.

* They’re not even touching, but you can feel the intimacy radiate off of them

* You wonder if maybe you and Edward might get to be that close one day

* James meets your gaze and smiles

* “I’ll see you around sometime leader!” He calls out, earning confused looks from your coven and his

* You smile back and give him a nod

* You’re still not sure what your future holds

* But you know you wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for the kindness of others

* You want to make them proud

* And then in a gust of wind, he’s gone

* They all are

* “See, I didn’t commit murder or anything, I told you things were different” Edward says with a teasing smile

* You roll your eyes and lightly shove him while he just laughs

* He’s right though, that was different

* “Enough flirting kids, you’re going to be late for school, and I really don’t want to deal with that dick in the front office acting all high and mighty because they think I can’t control my children” Esme yells

* School?

* Oh sh*t you didn’t do your homework

* “Edward-“

* “I’ll drive and tell you the answers on the way there” he says catching the keys you toss to him

* “It’s the-“

* “The Trig homework, I know. It’s your worst subject”

* Well you do struggle with trig quite a bit

* “Though to be fair you’re pretty terrible at all of them”

* He barks laughing when you shove him before getting into the car through the passenger side

* Carlisle and Esme watch you from the doorstep

* “They’re so good together-“ Esme starts

* “I know, I never thought our Edward would look at anyone like that”

* Carlisle and Esme exchange a look

* Before you came around-

* Well it wasn’t bad, but he certainly didn’t look like that.

* And he never smiled like that either

* Immortality had hardened him, made him into a man

* But with you-

* Well, with you he looks just like a boy

* A boy in love for the first time

* “I wonder what kind of children they might have had” Esme wonders with a small grin

* Him, with his ability to read minds, and you with that positively monstrous power of yours

* Any number of possibilities is possible

* “Best not to think of such things” Carlisle murmurs

* Though you two may be together for eternity, with the endless options, you’ll never have that.

* Esme nods

* “I’m late to get to the hospital, surgery this morning” he mumbles kissing her on the cheek before walking to the car

* She watches him go, his sleek white Volvo disappearing down the road before looking up to the sky

* “What a shame, I would have liked a cute grandchild or two running around” she mumbles to herself before turning to go inside

* “Entertaining always leaves me exhausted, guess I’ll give my employees the day off”

Tags:  @moonlights27​ @thebluetint​ @the100thtwilight​ @awesomebooklover17​ @oneofthepotterheads​ @smileygirl08​ @imdoingathingmom​ @iconicgguk​ @yrawn​ @alyciaswhore​ @little-horror-show​ @wicked-watering-can​ @lazydreamers​ @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​​ @hotmessgoodness​ @jaimewho​ @corabmarie​ @what-am-i-doing10​ @alluring-venus​ @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse​ @im-tired-not-sleepy​ @emmettcullenisahimbo​ @my-super-musical-life​ @smolvampiregirl​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​ @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252​ @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow​ @bwbatta​

[lovetorn]

Life Was A Willow [Part 2]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right?

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings for Part 2: violence, mentions of death (familial), swearing

A/N: part 2 !!!! thank you so much for the support and feedback from part 1, omg thank you !! well, i hope you enjoy part 2 ahhhhh !!

It’s 9 pm and Y/n still waits for the signal. She looks in the direction of the Castle and swings her feet back and forth from where she sits on the cottage’s roof.

The air is cold and the trees continue to rustle, the same way they do every day, but tonight, she has an eerie feeling about it. Regret slips into her mind sometimes, telling her that she is foolish for even accepting such a vague invitation by someone she doesn’t even know—but it was so intriguing and she trusts them (she doesn’t exactly know why).

Suddenly, a large pop startles Y/n out of her daze. Sparkles dance in the sky as fireworks burst from the land below. She quickly notes that the explosions are coming from the West side of the Castle and takes that as the signal. Very grand indeed.

Y/n jumps from the roof, landing gracefully on the dirt, and takes off running through the forest. She misses tree roots emerging from the earth and ducks under low branches from the undergrowth. The only thing that lights her path is the moonlight and at this moment, Y/n is thriving. The full moon allows her abilities to heighten and she places her full trust in her instincts.

The fireworks continue to explode and Y/n fills with more adrenaline, the sound making her scream out in joy. She’s excited about the meeting, and she doesn’t even know who it is. And maybe that’s what she’s eager for; the unknown.

The entirety of the concept scared her before, but now she’s exhilarated. And as the show comes to a close, Y/n nears the East side of the Castle. It’s completely silent at this end and the eerie feeling she had before creeps back. It’s not a feeling of uncertainty but one of opportunity and her instincts are telling her to take it.

When she reaches the abandoned cottage, Y/n inhales sharply. There’s no light coming from the house and the door remains closed. As she steps onto the stairs in front, the wood creams beneath her and she scolds for giving away herself to the person inside. Instead of sneaking around, Y/n stomps towards the door and swings it open.

She sees a man in the corner and makes her way towards him, her hands out and ready in case this interaction goes south.

“Who are you? And how do you know me?” Y/n calls out. The man jumps slightly and lifts his head. And in the moonlight flooding in through the window, Y/n recognises him as Dream, even with his mask off. He stands in a white button-up and brown pants, his hunter boots on and a newsboy hat sat on his blonde hair.

“Dream?”

“Hi, Y/n. I knew you would recognise me.” Y/n doesn’t want to look away from him. This is the first time she’s seen his face, and despite the darkness, she sees how handsome he is.

“Why—how? Why did you want to meet me in such a creepy way?” Y/n asks in disgust, picking a cobweb out of her hair and then off of her shoulder; they seem to be everywhere. Her expression falls back to one of admiration when she looks back at him. However, the moonlight lacked the light Y/n needed to see him properly.

Dream laughs slowly. “I forgot to bring a lighter for the lamp. Do you think you could, uh—maybe,”

“Glady,” Y/n sighs and flicks her hand towards the candle in the glass encasing. It immediately comes to life and the room becomes brightly lit. Her eyes fall onto Dream again and she finally sees him; his piercing green eyes and the scar that runs from the top of his left temple to the corner of his lip.

“Wow,” Dream mumbles under his breath. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you, and I know that everybody I know would, just, obliterate me for even thinking about doing this, but I needed to talk to you about—“

“You’re rambling.”

“Right, right...”

Y/n squints at the man and then tilts her head. “Whose C?”

Dream’s eyes widen as he nods. “Yeah, uh, that’s me. My name’s Clay.”

The witch doesn’t say anything as she stares at him. “So why do they call you Dream?”

This isn’t where Dream thought the conversation would go, but he’s happy they’re not fighting.

“My mother came up with the nickname when I was born. I nearly didn’t make it and then through some miracle, I did. So, she called me her Dream.” Y/n can tell the story makes him emotional, so she doesn’t push any further.

“That’s really sweet, Dream.” And at the sound of his real name, Dream perks up slightly before he cracks a smile. Y/n grins back at him; a real genuine smile. The pair stand in the low lit room in comfortable silence, until Y/n’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“What did you want to talk about?” She asks. Dream nods once and continues from where he was cut off before.

“I wanted to discuss the possibility of a truce between witches and hunters,” Dream isn’t smiling anymore, instead his lips are screwed up and his hands fidget in front of him. Y/n, however, grins even bigger.

“I’m all for that, honestly. I’m tired of being on edge every day and being scared for my life. If we can find a way to create peace, even for a little bit, I’m on board.” Y/n keeps it short for now, not wanting to scare him off by how passionate she feels about the situation.

Dream’s eyes light up at the sound of her agreeing. “Really?” Y/n nods and becomes surprised when she feels Dream’s arms wrap around her. “Thank you, thank you.”

“No, Dream, thank you! I’ve been trying to convince people of this for years. I’m really glad that you feel the same way.” The pair pull apart and Dream flicks his eyes down to Y/n’s lips for a split second.

“You’re so pretty,” Y/n nearly chokes at his comment. Dream feels his cheeks burn when the words tumble out and soon they’re both flustered. “Sorry! Oh my, I’m sorry, that didn't mean to slip out—”

“Dream, it’s fine. I think you’re pretty too; especially without the mask.”

The hunter swats the witch’s shoulder playfully. “Stop~” The pair laugh together, and then proceed to stand in another comfortable silence. The wind howls and whistles outside and makes the cottage creak, adding to the eerie aura that surrounds it.

“What’s with the hat? It’s nighttime.”

Dream plucks the accessory off of his head and runs his opposite hand through his hair, the soft locks falling back into place when his hand returns to his side. “Part of the disguise, duh.”

Y/n squints at him, her expression morphing into one of mischief. “Isn’t the mask a disguise in itself, though? Also, put the hat back on, you look handsome with it.” It’s time for Dream to blush now. He covers his face with his hat and scoffs softly. “Y/n!”

The girl slaps her hand over her mouth to muffle her embarrassed laughs. “It’s true!”

The man rolls his eyes before placing the hat back on his head. “Happy?”

Y/n nods before telling him to answer about the mask.

“Well, no, nobody at the Castle actually knows what I look like—except for my best friends, Sapnap and George.”

“George? As in Prince George?” Y/n is shocked, to say the least. She now understands why Dream is so passionate about the peace between the Hunters and Witches. Prince George is known for his differing morals and ideas from his family, which makes him stand out from the other Royals. Y/n admires his bravery and courage to do so.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were young. I’m jealous that he can be so open with his opinions in that Castle—Lord knows if I was, I'd be executed,” This makes Y/n’s stomach drop. “But, it’s okay, with your help, hopefully, we can convince humans and magical-kind alike, that there can be peace. A—And we can live together in harmony, without being consumed by the overbearing thought of death every moment of our lives.”

Dream stops his tangent, his face flushed and his eyes pleading. Y/n feels like crying; she has waited years for someone to be as passionate as her about this topic. “I’ll help you, Dream, no matter what; because I wholeheartedly believe we can do this. I trust you.”

Y/n shocks herself with this statement; she’s never trusted a human before.

“And I trust you Y/n.” The pair stare at each other, smiles spread across their cheeks as the night outside slips away, and then it’s just them; standing in the main area of a small, abandoned cottage that sits East of the Castle, lit up with a lantern that casts a warm glow over the pair. Y/n can almost say it looks and feels magical.

“Ok, enough flirting, let’s get planning on the truce. Sounds like a plan, doll?” Dream gives her a lopsided smile and Y/n feels her heart rate increase at the sight of him.

“Where were you?” Wilbur says. His voice is deeper than usual and fits in perfectly with the way he’s sitting ominously in the dark. Y/n stops tiptoeing towards her room and turns to face him; defeated that she got caught. However, she still remains giddy and her heart beats faster for other reasons.

“I was meeting with Schlatt—I need more toadstools for a potion I’m making.”

Wilbur squints at her, his lips curling into a frown. “I know you’re lying, and so does Niki.”

Y/n sighs and starts walking towards him. “I’m sorry—“ She pauses when she sees Wilbur shake his head.

“Don’t.”

Y/n screws her lips together and nods once. Her once excited demeanour fading away when she sees Wilbur’s look of disappointment. “I was meeting one of the new hunters, Dream.”

Wilbur furrowed his eyebrows, “What? Why?”

“We’re formulating a truce amongst witches and hunters.”

He raises his eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. “Okay? And why are you doing this? We don’t need peace.”

“Uh, so we’re not in danger every living second?” Y/n’s nerves grow into anger. “Why are you so against the chance of maybe, finally getting this?”

Wilbur shakes his head and stands up, the chair screeching against the wood floors as he moves. “Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

Y/n is at a loss for words while the tall man rolls his eyes and leaves, avoiding her as he circles around her to walk down the hallway.

His abrupt exit confuses Y/n. Why is Wilbur so against peace with the Hunters?

—

Dream manages to sneak into the Hunter’s Wing before they lock the front doors for the night. He sits silently on the bench in the training room and slips his boots off, making sure to place them on the floor as quiet as possible. He takes his hat off of his head and holds it in his palms, smiling stupidly at the inanimate object. The flame in the lantern next to him is fizzling out and it's hard to see 4 feet in front of him.

“Dream?” Even in his daze, Dream can sense the anger and fear in Sapnap’s voice.

“Sapnap? Why are you awake?” The younger boy walks out from the hallway and towards him.

“Me? Where were you? It’s midnight.”

Dream sighs and rests the hat on the bench next to him. “I was out.”

“Out? You mean meeting with the witch?”

Dream’s eyes widen. “How do you know that?”

“Fireworks don’t just go off for no reason, Dream. And I found the note in your room.” Sapnap says, ripping the letter from his pyjama bottoms pocket.

“Just say you have a crush on her, Dream!” Sapnap yells, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“I don't—I promise, Sapnap.”

“Fine, if you don’t like the witch, then kill her.” Dream’s dumbfounded. He stares at his best friend with such bewilderment that even Sapnap feels a twinge of guilt. Dream sighs, carding his hand through his hair in frustration and confusion.

He doesn’t reply, even when George arrives in a hurry, still in the process of wrapping a dressing gown around his body.

“What’s happened? I heard yelling.” The pair remain frozen, refusing to meet the Prince’s glare as they avoid eye contact.

George shakes his head, “Has this got to do with Dream meeting with the witch?”

“George! How do you know, too?”

George huffs. “I know everything that happens in and outside of my Castle. But, fireworks? Really?”

Dream throws his hands down in frustration. “Yes, fireworks! It was a good distraction and it was a signal for her anyway.”

George eyes the blonde before he crosses his arms over his chest. “As much as you hate to admit it, it's obvious that you’re fond of her, Dream. And no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side, okay? You know that.”

“What the fuck?” Sapnap spits. “You have his back? George, I can tolerate your ideals about the magical kind, but this is the witch who killed half of the hunter population.”

Dream stills. “What?”

“You’ve gone and done it now, Sapnap!”

“Y/n killed people?”

“Dream—“ George goes to speak, but he’s cut off by Sapnap.

“Yes! That’s why I’ve been trying to warn you! Why do you think we got this job so easily?” Dream stares at the concrete floor, his heart dropping into his stomach. He can’t believe it, he refuses to.

“Sapnap!” George snaps. The younger boy cowers away slightly, his once confronted facade crumbling at the sound of the Prince's tone. “Stop it, right now. You are in no place to tell him this, okay? You may be my best friend but that doesn’t excuse you from doing this.”

Dream chews on his bottom lip quietly as he watches Sapnap turn around and stomp out of the training room, but not before he scrunches up the letter and throws it on the floor. “Thanks.”

George’s gaze remains on the door. “Don’t thank me. He should know better anyway, considering his last relationship.”

The blonde nods once, reminding himself of the youngest boy’s past relationship with a fairy from the kingdom next door. Dream lets out a laugh at the thought.

For the next few days, Y/n hears nothing from Dream. She worries for him, has he been caught?

She stands on the porch of her cottage, hoping, begging for a sign that he is okay. Clouds plague the blue skies above and Y/n knows the bad omens swirling around the kingdom are the cause—and the inside of Niki’s crystal ball had burst with black and dark red clouds which had only confirmed her suspicions.

The wind howls through the trees and calls to her, speaking words of concern under its tongue. Y/n rolls her eyes and sighs, she knows to be careful, especially with the humans inching closer to their world.

However, a faint voice draws Y/n’s attention away from the wind and to the well in the corner of the garden. The sound confuses her at first, and then the wind’s guidance is forgotten as she makes her way towards it. The short fence around the area is still broken from the fight with the hunters weeks ago, and nobody has had a chance to repair it yet, so Y/n takes it upon herself to fix it.

The whispers from the well become a string of mumbles and are impossible to decipher as Y/n kneels with her back towards the forest—and for the first time, she is anxious about what lies within it.

But, before she can even begin picking up the pieces of wood, the sound of someone approaching her at a fast pace alerts Y/n immediately. She spins around with her hands out and is shocked when she sees Dream with his sword raised. The ground moves beneath her feet as she uses the earth’s power to aid her in meeting his strength.

“Dream?” She screams, her body struggling to resist the force of his weapon. Sparkles fall from her fingertips as she pushes back.

“You killed an entire army of people, Y/n!” Dream’s tone is low and angry and Y/n knows he would have found out eventually.

“Dream, I didn’t do that!” Y/n exclaims and Dream swings his sword backwards.

“How can I trust you? Hm? After all, you’ve killed people!” Y/n could cry at his utter naivety. She drops her arms by her sides as Dream glares at her in pure disgust.

“Instead of fighting, can we talk about this?” Y/n pleas. Her feet move swiftly beneath her, maneuvering her body away from Dream’s sword.

Suddenly, Dream brings the sword down to slice into Y/n’s arm, but a force pushes it back towards him, making the blade fly high into the air before it clatters onto the ground.

Y/n stands with her hands out, remnants of glitter falling around her fingers. “I told you! I’d never do that, and I have proof.”

“Proof?” Dream still stares at his sword, unable to meet Y/n’s eye.

“Proof. Now, how about we calm down and I’ll show it to you. Okay? Sounds like a plan?” Dream nods slowly, turning his head to face her. Finally, his green eyes soften and the raging fire that burns within them fizzles out.

“Okay.”

Y/n sighs before she begins. “When a witch kills an innocent; a human, they gain a marking on the back of their neck to signify the betrayal of the harmony between the two. However, since King James, that peace has been terminated; hence his need for hunters, like yourself.

“But, anyway, everybody in this damn kingdom thinks I killed those hunters, but I don’t have the mark,” Y/n turns around, her hand going to lift up her hair from her neck. The skin is clear, with no markings, nothing.

Dream nods, furrowing his eyebrows. “How do I know you didn’t just cast a spell to make it disappear?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “There’s no way to cover up the marking; it’ll just shine through whatever you put over it. It’s permanent and very obvious.”

“I told you, Dream, I didn’t kill them. I’d never kill an innocent.”

“Why didn’t you show them, then? You've had proof this entire time and never thought to actually show anyone?” Dream is bewildered. Y/n nods slowly, understanding his argument.

“I don't need to prove myself to your kind.” Is all she says. Dream waits for her to continue but soon realises she's not going to. “Fair point.”

“So, why did you come at me swinging? Did you really believe I would do that?” She whispers and Dream feels his heart sink. He is speechless for a few moments—did he really think that? Or was he feeding into Sapnap’s ideology of witches?

“S—Sapnap convinced me of things. I didn’t believe it at first, but the more he went on—I guess he got into my head.”

Y/n cocks her eyebrow and scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, he did. You could’ve easily killed me with the amount of anger you had.”

This makes Dream’s breath catch in his throat. “I—I’m so sorry, Y/n. That was never my intention—”

The witch shakes her head and holds her hand up. “It’s okay, Dream. You didn’t offend me. I’m still here, with you, right? Isn’t that enough to tell you that I’m not angry?”

“Yes! Yes, sorry—”

“Stop saying sorry, it’s annoying.” Y/n giggles, holding her hand out to grasp Dream’s.

“So—”

“Dream!”

The cottage is quiet, too quiet, and Y/n walks into the small kitchen, hoping to bake a cake to cure her boredom. But, Wilbur sits at the round dining table, his beanie and a sewing needle in his hands.

“Wil, I wanted to talk to you,” Y/n mumbles, pulling out a chair. Wilbur doesn’t meet her eye as she does so, continuing to patch up his beanie that got ripped on a tree last week.

“Why are you against harmony with humans?”

Wilbur sighs softly. He places the beanie on the table and turns to face Y/n. “Y/n, when I was young, I lived amongst the humans in a town not far from here. We tried as hard as we could to mix in and not draw attention to ourselves.”

The girl listens intently, both curious and scared for his answer. She can tell the story makes him anxious so she reaches for his hand that lays on the wooden table. “Go on, Wil. I’m here.”

Wilbur nods, his eyes already full of tears as he continues.

“However, one day, my family decided to move to a more secluded area within the town, so my father could teach me more about magic without the risk of being caught. When we entered our new cottage in the forest, we were ambushed and they killed my entire family, leaving me, the only child, alone. I was left there, with my parents' bodies for weeks. I was made to fend for myself until I found Niki in a cave several years later. I was only 7, Y/n.”

Tears cascade down both of their cheeks. Wilbur takes in a shaky breath before he collapses onto the table out of grief. Y/n immediately leaps into action, wrapping her arms around the older man and letting him use her for support. His broken sobs and heart-wrenching cries stab Y/n all over, and she immediately regrets asking him about it.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Wilbur,” She didn’t push anymore, and that was all Wilbur needed.

[britishboystm]

The Goodbye Prank | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minors dni), oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, swearing, lots and lots of crying, deep hand cuts, angst!!

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: The boys are ready to move on to bigger and better things. What happens when Y/N finds out?

Series Masterlist

***

March 13th, 1996

“Hold still.” Y/N spoke sternly as Fred jerked his hand away from her, wincing in pain.

George was pacing back and forth in the background, glancing over at the couple every so often, anger filling his entire being.

She had really gone and done it this time. That poor excuse for a professor.

“Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.” Y/N seethed through gritted teeth as she concentrated on the task at hand.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal Y/N. It’ll heal on its own.” Fred cried out, not wanting his brother and girlfriend to worry about him.

“No, Fred you don’t understand! That bitch has gone too far this time. Detention is one thing... but this,” She placed a drop of alcohol on the plethora of cuts, making Fred cry in pain. Tears welled his eyes and he kept his lower lip beneath his teeth to quiet himself.

He didn’t want to be a bother.

“This is abuse, she can’t keep getting away with this!” She continued to rant.

“Y/N darling,” He spoke assuringly, slipping his hand away from her tending grasp and placing it on her cheek to calm her down. His eyes were soft and pleading for her to settle.

“She will never hurt me. This is temporary, but she will never truly hurt me.” A tear slipped out of her eye. She couldn’t help but feel that this was all her fault, that she was the reason he had gotten detention in the first place.

The day before, Y/N and Fred had been snogging in a dark corner near the restricted section in the library, and while she was doing her daily lurking, Umbridge came across the couple, threatening punishment immediately.

Before she could get a hold of both of them, Fred pushed Y/N away, demanding for her to run back to her dorm.

He himself hadn’t had the time to escape which led to him getting captured by Umbridge’s evil clutches, even if she only stood at a whopping four foot eleven.

So here he was, bleeding from the hand, all thanks to that pink toad's “special” quill.

In Fred’s chicken scratch writing, his hand read;

I will not coerce with mudbloods.

It had been speculated since she began “teaching” at Hogwarts that she was secretly a death eater. This was strong evidence to support said claim.

“This is all my fault.” Y/N murmured, making both twins shoot their heads up in surprise.

“Godric no! Y/N never say that again! I don’t care what it takes to keep you safe. And I also don’t care about your blood status. You are kind and smart and beautiful and a brilliant witch.” His words were full of hurt, hurt that she would think that of herself.

Fred knew Y/N was self conscious of the fact that she wasn’t raised in a wizarding household. That she had to work twice as hard to be where she was in terms of her studies, all because she had to play catch up with her classmates. It took a toll on her and Fred knew this. George knew this. Everyone knew this.

“I’m sorry Freddie I ju-,” He quickly grabbed her cheeks and kissed her to shut her up.

“Just heal my hand love.” He muttered against her lips.

George looked away, feeling like an intruder during a very personal moment.

“Alright.” She sighed out with a soft giggle and sniffle, resting her forehead against his. He soothed her further with a tender caress of her hands. Something she had grown to appreciate deeply.

“Vulnera Sanentur.” She finally spoke, slightly moving her wand and watching as the venomous words began to vanish from his skin.

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief, feeling the pain dissipate with every passing second.

“You’re welcome Freddie.”

April 2nd, 1996

It was the day of the OWL examinations and Fred and George had only one thing on their mind.

Revenge.

After a quidditch incident in which they knocked Malfoy off of his broom for speaking badly about their mother, Umbridge had made the biased decision to ban the twins from ever playing again. And then on top of that, she confiscated their brooms.

Then it was detention for Dumbledore’s Army along with two of his brothers, his sister, his girlfriend and a bunch of his friends and classmates.

Then he and George got in trouble with Umbridge once again for consoling a crying first year who had been a victim to her cruel and unethical detention practices.

Expulsion was a given for what they were about to do. But they didn’t care.

The boys had decided that after Umbridge ruined everything that was good about Hogwarts (e.g, Dumbledore's Army and Quidditch), education was no longer a beneficial part of their lives. Instead, using the money Harry had so graciously given them from his Triwizard earnings, they decided to finally jump ship and start a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes they would call it.

Now all that was left was what they considered to be their most brilliant prank yet.

And this was where Y/N came into the picture.

The three of them strolled down a corridor towards the great hall where Professor Umbridge was administering the OWL examination for the fifth year students.

Y/N was more than happy to help the boys with their prank, often being used as a siren for their sneaky schemes. She didn't, however, know the exact reason for this prank.

She didn’t know this was goodbye.

Fred and George drew a blank when trying to figure out how to tell Y/N about their plans for the future. It killed Fred to think that this could possibly mean leaving his girlfriend behind, even if it had been a dream of his and George’s for so long to start the biggest pranking empire the wizarding world had ever seen.

So while the twins spent weeks and weeks planning their departure, Fred also tried to think of ways to ask Y/N to go with them and leave Hogwarts for good.

Finally at the entrance of the great hall, they quickly went over the plan in secret whispers. Y/N then waited for her cue to enter the large space to create the much needed distraction.

With a tap on the shoulder, Fred and George gave Y/N the go ahead to start her one woman show. She let out a shake of nerves and ran in, coming to a complete stop at Umbridge's feet at the front of the hall.

“There are OWL examinations happening in this room. What is the meaning of this?” Umbridge spoke in a rather agitated but sickly sweet tone.

“There’s a few students playing around with banned Weasley products outside in the halls Professor. Causing a real disruption.” Umbridge clenched her fists. She couldn’t stand the twins.

All eyes were on Y/N. Most students knew she was Fred’s girlfriend so it was quite amusing to see the confusion on their faces.

Umbridge would have also seen through the act if she hadn’t been currently seething to the core.

“Right well, lead me to them Ms L/N.” She said tugging at the bottom of her pink tweed blazer. Y/N nodded, beginning to walk ahead of Umbridge towards the entrance, all the while, giving the boys the countdown for their surprise.

At one, Y/N noticed a gleam in the twins' eyes as Fred tossed a Whiz-bang right in front of Umbridge’s nose. Y/N quickly got out of the way as the Whiz-bang began to wreak its havoc. Umbridge yelped and screeched as she tried to outrun the now fully formed dragon that had emerged from the sparks. The professor was no match for Fred and George Wealsey, that was for certain.

As everything began to escalate, Fred and George mounted their confiscated brooms with conviction.

Fred took a moment to look over at his beaming girlfriend before placing a quick reassuring peck on her lips. The boys then pushed off the ground and zipped through the large room, their hoots and hollers of adrenaline trailing behind them.

Students cheered as examination papers floated about, all caused by the gusts of wind from the speed of the boys brooms. Then once enough students had gathered on to the balcony, the letter W appeared in the sky in the form of fireworks. It stood proudly amongst the clouds that it almost brought a tear to Y/N’s eye. These boys were legends.

It was quite spectacular to say the least.

———

Later that night, Y/N laid awake, feeling slightly concerned about the twins. Neither one of them had contacted her to say where they were or when they would be back.

Feeling uneasy, Y/N pushed her dark maroon sheets off of her body and headed towards the window hoping to see any sign of the twins returning.

Nothing.

She let out a shaky sigh but became startled when she heard a quiet thump behind her.

Once she quickly spinned around she noticed the outline of her boyfriend standing in the darkness, with just a splash of moonlight cascading over his face. Even in the shadow she knew which twin she was dealing with.

“Fred!” She whispered through a smile before jumping from the window seal and running over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her with a tightness that she had never felt from anyone else. It was almost as though if he were to let go she would simply slip away into nothing. She frowned over his shoulder and pushed back from the hug to look into his eyes, hoping to find all of the answers to the questions she had in them.

“Fred?” She asked, beginning to notice that sick stomach feeling again within her.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.” His tone was stern and pointed.

She felt an inkling as to what this was all about.

“Fred don’t worry, If Umbridge tries to expel you I’m sure Dumbledore can override it, right?” His expression didn’t shift.

“Right?” She repeated with an unsure tone, starting to think that the worry of expulsion wasn’t why he was here. The flips and turns in her gut became more and more alive. She could hear her heart beating in her ears. Why wasn’t he saying anything god dammit?

“Did something happen Freddie?” Her voice was shaky, almost as if she couldn’t trust it.

“I need to talk to you about something. Something important that could change the rest of our lives.” Y/N could sense his nervousness from a mile away.

“Bloody hell Fred this doesn’t make me feel good.” He quickly placed a hand on her cheek to calm her nerves. She instinctively leaned into his calloused palm.

“Before you say anything, let me explain and then you can tell me what you think.”

“I’m thinking that the other girls will wake up if we don’t have this conversation somewhere else.” He finally looked at their surroundings noticing the other bodies sleeping soundly within the room.

“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dark dorm and down to the undisturbed common room.

“You’re scaring me Fred. Tell me what’s going on.” She watched him closely as he paced back and forth, clearly thinking about what to say next.

“George and I are leaving.”

“Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it.” She responded, still very much left in the dark. Fred released a sigh and sat her down on one of the couches. The crackling fire filled the tense void between the two lovers.

“No, Y/N, we are leaving tonight. Getting away from Umbridge, from Hogwarts. We have a storefront in Diagon Alley that we are going to turn into the most wicked joke shop any witch or wizard has ever seen.” Y/N’s face was unreadable.

“Freddie the prank is over now. You don’t need t-” She said with a nervous laugh which he cut off.

“Y/N I’m serious. I know it’s hard to believe, but this time I need you to trust me. We are leaving Hogwarts, for good. George and I are going to be creating one of the biggest wizarding enterprises ever…. and, I want you to come with us…. with me.”

Y/N pulled her hands away from Fred’s. The skin on her neck crawled.

“Fred I- I don’t know what to say.” Her breathing began to quicken. She was panicking. She couldn’t just leave. She had friends, an education, a life here at Hogwarts.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just need you to know that I love you and this doesn’t mean that I want us to end.” She shook her head repeatedly, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

Fred grabbed her cheeks and pushed his lips against hers. He could feel the salty wetness from her eyes transfer from her skin to his, and it broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he was the cause of it.

Y/N wanted to push him away so badly. He had made the choice to walk away from everything that they had built together. How could she ever forgive him? Instead of conveying this to him, she moved to straddle his lap. He leaned against the back of the couch and placed his hands on her hips, holding on for dear life.

“Please.” He whispered.

She didn’t respond but rather pushed herself deeper against him, slightly grinding her hips.

“I’m sorry.” Was all she said, in a soft shaky tone. They both knew what she was apologizing for.

They took a moment to just look at one another.

Y/N then spoke before she had time to think her words through,

“Show me you really mean what you say. Show me that you truly love me. Show me before you go and forget all about me.” Tears flowed between the two of them.

“I could never forget you.” He said in a hurt whisper. Her eyes trailed down to their connected laps in shame, embarrassed that she was making a huge selfish fuss over his plans of a brighter future. Fred took her face in his hands and made sure to really get a good look at her before swiftly laying her flat on her back against the couch.

“Is this alright?” He asked while softly stroking her thigh. She let out a trapped sigh and nodded as she shimmied herself further into the cushions. Fred gave her a melancholy smile before leaning in and enveloping her mouth with his.

Immediately they began to collectively moan as Fred grazed his hand up and down Y/N’s goose fleshed skin and her clothed pubic bone pushed up against his sensitive groin. Just the feeling of his light feather touch had her trembling to his every will. Once he felt that her legs had gotten enough attention, he removed his lips from hers and moved his hands from her thighs as he looked down at her with a face filled with care and worry.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

His fingers were creeping up her inner thigh and past the fabric of her cotton pyjama shorts. She nodded with a soft hum of approval. She bit down on her swollen bottom lip as he began to circle her clit with his middle and index fingers. Then her hand shot up to grab his forearm at the same time as her legs tensed up with pleasure.

“Please Freddie, m-more.” She whined while using her hand to dictate his speed and movements against her sensitive centre.

Fred watched in amazement as his girlfriend laid submissively beneath him, her hair sprawled out as she shimmed and jerked about, all because of his large strong hand that was currently between her legs.

They had never had sex before. The two of them had talked about it a great deal throughout their relationship, but because they spent so much of their time surrounded by friends during school and family during the holidays, it was difficult to ever get a moment to do so.

Fred never really cared about getting caught or the idea of a quicky. He was Fred Weasley after all. Any way he could feel her skin against his was ideal. Y/N on the other hand, had always wanted her first time to be something meaningful. She wanted it to be thought out, where they wouldn’t be distrubed and could have all the time in the world to express their love for one another.

So never once did Fred imagine that this was how the night would end. In the middle of the warmly lit common room where any insomnia stricken student could walk in unannounced.

Fred wanted her to drop everything. He wanted her to follow in his footsteps. But she was her own person, and she had to make her own choices, no matter how much it pained him. At the very least they were able to say their goodbyes by finally giving themselves to each other, whole heartedly.

“I’m going to put a finger in. Is that alright?” He asked softly in her ear, intentionally making it so his mouth hovered close to her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his breath rolling off of her skin.

“Yes Freddie, more than alright.” She was his to take, anyway he wanted.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it, okay love?” She nodded lightly, completely under his spell.

Fred detached his fingers from her hypersensitive bundle and slowly dragged them down to swirl around the wetness that had formed at her entrance. Once she was fully prepped by his digit, he slipped his index finger inside of her. Even with one digit, he could tell just how tight she was.

“Merlin, you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned out his inner thoughts before attacking her neck again with a plethora of horny kisses.

Her jaw slacked open in pleasure and her back arched off of the sticky fabric beneath her. His methodical breathing gave her a pace in which she could thrust herself against his finger.

Fred noticed her clench and speed up her hips movements. Not wanting her to finish so quickly, he slowly pulled his finger out of her warmth, resulting in a whine escaping her lips.

“Freddie, come back. Please!” She cried out, reaching out for him. Instead of giving in to her (no matter how badly he wanted to), he slipped off of the couch and got onto his knees in front of her. Y/N sat up and faced him, looking like the goddess Venus herself.

“Off, darling.” He finally said before tugging at the waistband of her shorts. Y/N happily obliged by lifting her hips up and letting him pull the shorts past the curvature of her bum and down her legs to the floor.

“Can you open up for me darling?’ He asked gently, caressing her knees in a circular motion. Y/N adjusted herself in her seated position, the sound of the leather couch filling their ears as she shifted her hips. She then took a deep inhale before slowly opening her legs more and planting her feet far apart from each other. The draft of the room hit her, making her clench her toes for a moment.

Fred’s face heated up as he took in her glistening inner thighs and centre.

“Absolutely stunning love, really.” He bashfully admitted while stroking her spread apart thighs.

This was not the Fred Wealsey that everyone else knew. The crazy, careless prankster who had everyone wrapped around his finger. The Fred Weasley who constantly told innapropriate jokes and boasted about his pranking achievements along with his party animal ways. As he sat there on his knees, between his girlfriends legs, he came to the conclusion that he was the one wrapped around her finger. He was nothing more than a desperate boy who was hopelessly in love with the girl above him.

“All yours Freddie.” Her voice was like sweet red velvet cake getting sliced into on a warm late spring afternoon. Fred let out a soft groan in response to her inviting words before pushing himself forward slightly, preparing himself to attach his lips to her core. He slowly tilted his head to the side, allowing himself full access. His stomach contracted and he squeezed his thighs together, trying to keep the ache in his trousers at bay.

Once he was able to somewhat pull himself together, he placed a gentle kiss to her clit, resulting in her hole clenching and her hips abruptly bucking forward. She grabbed his short red locks in the process and looked down at him through half lidded eyes.

“Look at me baby.” She whispered seductively. His soft brown irises slowly shifted up along her gorgeous welcoming figure to meet her eyes, a clouded look of lust filling them. Now giving her his full attention, Fred moved on from the light kisses he was administering to fully lapping up her arousal with a new found confidence.

“Fuck.” She groaned out while jutting her hips forward and threading her fingers through his hair harshly. He sighed in contentment as he continued to watch his girlfriend unravel above him. All because of his tongue.

And once more, right before she could finish, Fred removed his mouth from her core, wetness covering most of his lower face, chin and all. Before he could make any witty comments about how spent she looked, Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up onto the couch to lay on top of her.

His shoulders rose and fell as he panted, still catching his breath from devouring her seconds ago. His covered torso pressed against hers and they could both feel each other's hearts racing, keeping in time with one another.

“Stay with me. Just for a bit.” She pleaded quietly, sadness evident in her voice and tears sitting in the lower waterline of her eyes. Fred immediately sat up and watched her lay deeper along the couch before straddling her waist. He then unzipped his striped sweater, throwing it behind him absentmindedly. Y/N looked up at the red headed boy on top of her with so much love and admiration, moving her hands up and down his clothed chest and stomach. Fred then pulled off his t-shirt, exposing his bare upper body.

Feeling absolutely feral from seeing his lightly freckled porcelain chest, Y/N yanked Fred down by the neck to press their lips together. Most of the time when they kissed, it would be fairly contained and sweet. Now was not one of those times. Teeth clashed and tongues swirled freely making the kiss messy, sloppy and feverish.

Wanting even more contact, Fred pulled one of his hands out from behind Y/N’s head and tucked it under the button up lounge top she had on. She let out a small gasp as he began messaging one of her breasts. He couldn’t go another second without having them exposed and ready for his tender touch.

Quickly sitting up again, Fred started to unbutton the fabric with shaky hands, prominent pants of lust coming from his throat. Noticing him struggling, Y/N anxiously placed her hands over his and started helping him with the buttons.

Once the final button was undone, Y/N’s supple breasts were finally exposed. The cool air caused her nipples to harden and once Fred had fully taken them in, he brought himself down to her chest, sucking on the flesh happily.

Needy for more of him, Y/N dragged her hand down his stomach, stopping at the buckle of his belt. With a few aggressive tugs of the hand me down leather, Fred brought his hand down to help her unbuckle it, gently grazing her hand in the process.

Once the belt was removed, Y/N feverishly pulled at the zipper of his trousers. She was able to achieve the action on her own fairly quickly and began to feel around his lower section, putting her hand past the elastic band of his striped boxers. When she felt his hardened dick, a multitude of somersaults awoken within her. She was hoping somersaults wouldn’t be the only thing she would feel her gut that night.

She took him in her hand, making sure not to grip his aching member too harshly. He bucked forward and closed his eyes, letting out the most beautiful sound that had ever graced Y/N’s ears. Seeing her effect on the older boy had her stroking him faster and faster. Precome from his red tip began to seep between her fingers.

“Yes, yes!” He let slip out with a gasp, digging his face into her neck. She then slipped her hand out from his boxers and trousers, not letting him finish. It was a small act of defiance for doing the same to her earlier.

He whined quietly, nuzzling his nose further into her skin, begging for any kind of release.

“Lift up love.’ She said sweetly, which he did with very little objection. Her arms came around his waist and she pushed his trouser and boxers down more, giving her a full view of his arse as she looked over his shoulder from where she laid. She couldn’t help but stare.

Getting frustrated with the inconvenience of the material, Fred kicked off his shoes and used his feet to push the constrictive material off his lower half completely, including his socks.

Y/N and Fred were now fully naked and exposed.

“Fred, I need you in me.” Y/N begged, desperate for the feeling of being filled up by the boy above her. Fred brought himself up further on to his elbows and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, needing her to be one hundred percent sure that this was what she wanted.

“Yeah.” She responded, eyes full of wonder. He couldn’t deny her what she wanted, especially when she gave him that look.

He moved his gaze down to his swollen member that was just barely hovering over her pubic bone. With a steady grip, he jerked himself a couple times to bring up a bead of precome before shifting slightly, laying the tip of his length against her lower lips.

Looking up one more time for confirmation, he was met with a soft expression on her face and her hand stroking his hair gently, giving him a sense of reassurance.

That was all he needed to continue.

He moved forward, looking down to watch his aching length disappear past the folds of her pulsing centre.

The feeling made him release a shaky breath and he laid himself flush against her naked chest, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up for much longer even if he tried. Y/N hissed when he slowly pushed himself further and further inside of her, his member dragging against her contracting walls. To ease the pain she gripped onto his toned freckles biceps. All those years of swinging his beater bat could be felt underneath her fingertips.

“Freddie,” She cooed, indicating that the pain had started to subside. Her soft words sent sharp bolts of energy through his scalp and all the way down to the soles of his feet. The sensation made him want to move instead of this agonizing stillness they were currently in.

“Ca-can I-I m-move? Fuckin’ ‘ell, can I please move?” He begged, shakiness laced within his words.

“Yeah.” She whispered, tightening her grip on the roots of his hair. He groaned at the tugging sensation and began retracting his hips, watching Y/N tense and hiss as he did so. He waited a moment and then pushed forward again, watching as she let out a prominent sigh, releasing all of the stiffness she was holding. His thrusts were small, only moving slightly back and forth so she could get used to the feeling. Every once and a while she would let out these little mewls that made him want to snap his hips. But he had to have restraint.

For her sake.

It was as if she had read his mind because as he continued his methodically shallow pace, Y/N finally spoke up through her moans.

“More Freddie. I need more.” He lifted his head from the cozy spot he had created upon her chest to look her in the eye.

“Are you sure?’ The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

“Christ Freddie, you’re being too gentle! Please just fuck me like you mean it!”

He was dumbfounded by her words. Her begging and pleading awoke something within him and he went to grab her thigh, placing it against his hip. He then set his forehead against hers making sure their eyes stayed connected.

“Like this?” He asked confidently with a tinge of a smirk as he began to roll his hips hard against hers. She let out a loud whine and nodded before looking down to their connected bodies, biting her lip as he continued to slowly and deeply fuck into her the best way he could.

“Yeah just like that.” She responded softly, rubbing her hand along his toned and flexed upper back.

Moans and pants filled the room. Y/N was fully laid back, pulling Fred down with her. With their bodies so intimately entangled, Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing her heels against his tailbone, allowing for a new angle to emerge. He was now hitting her g-spot in this position, though she didn’t know that. To her it just felt euphoric.

It just felt right.

After a while she made it so she was fully wrapped around him when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him almost as though she were a koala.

“Oh my merlin, you f-f-feel so fu-fucking amazing Fred!” All he could respond with were low grunts of pleasure.

Fred began to quicken his pace when he started to feel his orgasm creep up like a distant sneeze. This had Y/N holding on to him for dear life, also feeling her own climax slowly approaching.

“I-I think I’m go-going to cum.” He spoke in broken words.

“Me too.” She replied through a gasp, gripping onto his shoulder blades that tensed up every time he pushed forward into her now overly sensitive core.

After a few more deep and needy thrusts, Fred began to pull his hips back so he could finish on Y/N’s stomach.

“No.” She breathed out, tightening the grip she had on him, digging her heels deeper into his sweaty lower back. He looked down at her with a confused but blissed out expression, still thrusting sporadically.

“Finish inside me, so I still have a part of you with me when you leave.” He stopped, completely caught off guard by her words. She wanted him to stay with her that badly. It killed him inside, especially as he watched a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

“If that’s okay.” She continued, beginning to retract into herself. She started to think that she had made him uncomfortable and had ruined the moment with her loose words. She covered her face in embarrassment, wishing she could disappear. It would be difficult though with Fred still very much buried inside of her.

Y/N was about to apologize for stepping out of line when she felt him begin to thrust into her with more vigour than before. She took her hands off of her eyes to see Fred concentrating heavily, his face turning into a light shade of red.

“ ‘m close. Gonna fill you up so well love.” Her heart swelled at his words. He was going to do it.

“Fuck, me too Freddie.” With a few more passionate and hard thrusts and a plethora of I love you’s, Fred let out a guttural groan while sloppily painting her jaw with wet, salvia ridden kisses. Then he finally spilled his seed deep inside of her. She gripped on to him roughly, jutting up against his now partly soft member as her legs shook along with her orgasm.

Fred could watch her do that all day.

They had both mostly come down at this point as Fred collapsed on top of Y/N, their sweaty bodies finding a perfect rhythm through their erratic breaths and heartbeats. No words were spoken. Instead they stared off into space, finding a sense of peacefulness in their collective blissed out state. Only the crackling fire made itself known.

Amongst all this, Y/N drew hearts over Fred’s naked back absentmindedly with her fingers. He had almost fallen asleep at her soothing touch. It was what he would miss the most. The silent recognition of love that the two of them shared.

“Freddie?”

He hummed in response, far too gone at that point to give her a coherent sentence.

“I hate that I’m asking you this but, when are you leaving?” Fred’s eyes widened and he quickly shot up to check the time.

It was one-thirty in the morning. He was supposed to meet George at the front entrance half an hour earlier.

“Shit!” He yelled as he jumped up and ran around the common room, resembling a chicken with its head cut off. He frantically collected his clothes that were scattered on the floor.

“Get dressed and grab some shoes.” He said while hopping around, attempting to get his long lower limbs through the leg holes of his trousers. Y/N didn’t ask any questions as she quickly slipped her pyjamas back on and rushed upstairs to grab an old Gryfindor sweater her aunt passed down to her, along with a pair of worn in white converse.

Once she made it back down to the common room, Fred was lacing up his shoes. He must have heard her come down because once she got to the bottom of the stairs he looked up at her from his crouched position, watching her intently as she sat on the bottom step and concentrated on getting her own shoes on.

This moment reminded him of the night of the Yule Ball and how beautiful she looked when she came down those very same steps.

She took his breath away.

Now sporting a ratty old sweater and wearing no makeup whatsoever, his breath still caught in his throat.

She had always been so beautiful.

After a moment of soaking her in for what may be the last time for a while, Fred walked over and grabbed her hand, leading her out of the common room.

“Where are we going?” Y/N whisper yelled as they stealthily ran through the dark ghostly halls of Hogwarts. The only light source they were gifted came from the full moon that could easily be seen through the plethora of archways adorning the castle’s outer walls. The only sounds being the echo of their shoes slapping against the cobblestone beneath them.

Every once in a while when they came to a turn, Fred would abruptly stop and peak around the corner to make sure Filch wasn’t creeping around in the shadows. A habit he picked up when he first became a student at Hogwarts.

“Almost there.” He stated while swiftly moving around a corner, making a non verbal announcement that the area was clear of any caretaker activity.

Y/N helplessly wanted to tug Fred backwards and have them retreat back into the common room for a second round of passionate love making. Possibly even use the Room of Requirements to spice things up. But unfortunately, things don’t always go the way you want them to. Instead she tried her best to keep up with Fred’s lanky legs as he maneuvered them through the halls of Hogwarts.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally made it to the large grand entrance of the school, surprisingly not having gotten caught in the process. Y/N could feel her legs almost give out as they stopped to look out to the vast land of grass, forest and bodies of water, partially due to the large stretch of running she had just done and partially due to the activities that took place in the common room not that long ago.

Her lungs felt cold and sore as she gasped for breath.

“What are we doing here?” She choked out, not paying much attention to her surroundings. She then stood up fully and noticed a few meters away, the other half of her lover. He turned around, travel bag in hand and Angila behind him in all her bright blue glory. The fact that the car still ran was an absolute miracle. Especially after what Harry and Ron had put her through in Ninety-Two.

Fred took her out of her thoughts as he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him. George had a beaming smile on his face. He initially thought that the plan had worked and Y/N chose to go with them to help bring their dream to fruition. Then he noticed his older twin shake his head sadly. George’s smile disappeared and his shoulders dropped once he realised what his brother was trying to tell him.

This was goodbye.

“I hear you boys are dropping out?” Y/N called out to George as they got closer and closer to him, an attempt to lighten the mood. He let out a sad laugh as he stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” He responded leaning against the passenger door. Y/N snickered softly as they finally came face to face. She dropped Fred’s hand and pulled George in for a hug, rubbing his back to console him, feeling bad that she had gotten in the way of their perfect plan.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” He asked, words filled with hope.

“I can’t. I need to finish the year and graduate. But this isn’t goodbye Georgie Poorgie.” She said before pulling away from the embrace. He smiled at this and playfully rolled his eyes. He always hated that nickname.

“Will you write?” He didn’t want the last seven years to just go to waste. Neither did she.

“Of course I will.” She moved in closer and whispered,

“Keep an eye on him will you? You were always the more reasonable one of the two.” He chuckled lightly and nodded before leaning in for one more bone crushing hug.

“Bye Y/N.”

“Bye George.” And with that he retreated back into the dodgy Ford to make sure everything was in order for their journey to Diagon Alley.

“So.” Fred said breaking the awkward silence, kicking the stone beneath him, his hands shoved in his sweater pockets.

“So.” Y/N repeated in a light mocking tone. So much had happened in the last few hours that neither one of them really knew what to say.

“I’m never not going to love you, you know that right?” He finally said stepping closer so they were only a couple inches apart from each other.

“Yeah I know. Still wish you weren’t just going and deserting your education but it’s not my place to stomp on your dreams you know.” Y/N let out a sniffle, collecting a couple tears with her fingers.

“I’ll wait for you.” He blurted out. She looked up and gave him a sad smile, taking his hand into hers.

“No you won’t. You will work and work and one day some beautiful girl will walk in and sweep you off of your feet. She will be the perfect girlfriend and one day the perfect wife who will help you and George run the shop and raise your kids while you live out your dream. I know you love me and I love you, more than anything in the world, but Freddie, I cannot and will not hold you back from what I know you can achieve. Be great, focus on that. I’ll always be here for you. But I can’t be who you want me to be. I can’t be a shop owner's wife.” Tears began to trickle down both their faces by the time Y/N had finished her little speech.

“Is this you breaking up with me?” His voice was cracked and hoarse. He had thought about this being a possible outcome but chose to push it to the back of his mind, not wanting to face it.

“Yeah...I think it is.” She replied weakly, feeling absolutely guilty and awful. No, this was what was right. He needed to move on.

“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved! No one else!” He said, his voice raising.

Y/N flinched slightly, not used to seeing him this genuinely angry, not even on the quidditch pitch. How could she? The only other time he got this mad was when she was passed out cold.

“Freddie, please. Not here.” Her voice was quiet and shaky as tears streamed down her face. She then noticed George watching from inside the car with a face full of remorse. Under normal circumstances he would have intervened to protect her but he knew she was safe and this conversation needed to happen sooner or later.

Seeing her scared demeanor, Fred pulled back immediately. He hated to see her frightened and vulnerable.

Slowly, he walked towards her and gently brought her into his chest as she sobbed, placing a plethora of gentle kisses on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry Fred, I just can’t I-” She rambled as her small frame shook with tears.

“Shhh. It’s okay, no need to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled”. His eyes closed with frustration as he let out a sigh. He was angry at himself for getting so cross with her.

“Fred?” She asked once her tears had finally subsided and she could gather her thoughts.

“Yes love?’ He kept his hands around her waist as he leaned back a touch to look down at her.

“One last kiss? Before you leave?” Both of their hearts broke for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“Y/N please don’t.” He felt as though he could cry now.

“Fred, I don’t want to argue. Just do it” She was tired, emotionally drained and not in the mood to negotiate. He let out a shaky exhale and gently took a hold of the back of her neck, leaning down to capture her lips with his.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen with desperation. It felt nice and warm, but also painful. Fred moaned into Y/N’s mouth and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. In response she placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed her thumb gently back and forth against his soft freckled skin. His hand then came up to lay gently over hers. The size difference of their hands always made his heart swell.

“I love you.” He said against her lips.

“I know. I love you too.” She muttered. And with that, they separated and embraced for a couple more seconds. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but they had to.

“Bye.” She said with a weak wave once he had finally pried himself from her grasp, backing away further and further before getting into the driver seat.

He couldn't even look her in the eye as he started up the bunged up car, it would just be too painful. Merlin knew if he did, there was a good chance he would run back out to her and forget about everything he had worked so hard for.

The headlights shawn brightly, creating a stream of yellow light against the gravel in front of it. The sound of low rumbles, occasional putters and clanks drowned out Y/N’s re-emerging sobs as she watched the boys begin to drive down the path and up into the night sky. The old beat up Ford swiftly flew further and further away. Then it rippled into oblivion.

Gone.

Y/N held her sweater tightly to her shaking body as her teeth chattered, the only sound being the chilly April wind passing by. The wetness of her fresh tears brought an extra sense of coldness to her face. She stood in place far longer than necessary, secretly hoping that piece of junk car would reappear.

It never did.

[gigglemestoat]

I’m going to attempt to post my little snippets of writing here. We’ll see how that goes.

Have this story I wrote based of an odd dream.

TW: cursing, a tiny bit of blood, and possible character death?

The Boar & Stag

“Take the child and go Anghert. Please.” Her words broke, breaths heavy, blood dripping from an open gash on her jaw.

“I can’t just leave you here.” He wasn’t prepared to lose everything. Not after so long. Not after what he had just gained.

“I love you more than all the sun and stars that light our path, but if you can’t get your thick head out of here and save her I will skewer you myself Angh.”

The door shook and splintered, dust raining down from the ancient temple ceilings.

“It won’t hold. It won’t hold and one of us has to stay. I am not the man with one fucking leg and sleeping baby.” And then she turned to him, catching him up and titling his chin, tasting of sweet amber wine and fear.

“I love you.” She breathed in close, lips bumping his. And he believed those words more than anything.

“Please Cymir, please don’t make me leave you. Not again. Not after we are finally back here. Together.” Tears dripped onto her soft gloves, staining dark leather.

“I refuse to go to a freshly dug grave, not for this. Don’t you dare believe that this will be enough to kill me. Not the Boar of Trimare.”

“Not my Boar.” The words where raspy, barely audible, as if his throat was holding them in, afraid to let anything of hers go.

She leaned down, kissing the child’s forehead, sweet and gentle. Little droplets sparkled on the infants cheek, and she wiped her eyes as she pulled away.

“She had better survive this. No point in me dying just for you to fail, no?” Her voice cracked, the quip ringing on a truth neither of them wanted to admit.

He pulled her close again, reaching up to wipe her tears, nose bumping hers, both of them sniffling in the moonlit chamber. He laughed, voice stuffy and raw.

“Look at where the Boar and Stag are now, crying over a baby in some backwoods witches church. Oh how the brave have fallen. But hey, we have an alter. Care to say our vows?”

And then she was laughing too.

“Better late then never.”

So they stood, bright moonlight blanketing their grief, and said the age old vows. The vows of lovers torn apart, of soldiers going off to war, of the wife to her spouse as they sail away.

“Take of me the piece I cannot keep, steal away the part I wish to give. I love you boundless in the time, and more so as we step our separate fates. Keep me in heart and mind, and if moon is kind, one day the roses of summer will be ours.” The last words faded off, echoing past the crashing against the barricades.

“Now go. And if fate has us in kind hands I won’t be long to-“ Her words were lost to the cracking of the doors, the dense nearly black wood shattering to pieces under a sharp tipped ram.

“GO.” She screamed, turning to draw her sword, holding her place against the flood of soldiers that poured in.

And he ran, holding the baby close, tears blurring his vision.

All he had was hope.

May the Boar and Stag be ever intertwined, and their steps be always on an intersecting path.

[starryasmo]

Cottagecore MC x The Undateables (Pt. II)

The demon brothers weren’t the only people who had become attached to you during your stay in the Devildom.

The first person besides the brothers who had taken a liking to you was none other than Lord Diavolo himself. Upon seeing you in all of your timid and soft glory, with the scent of light perfume and tea leaves trailing after you and the illusion of roses blooming under your skin from how pink your cute cheeks were, he’d immediately decided that he liked you, chuckling and commenting on how there couldn’t possibly a human cuter than you upon your arrival to the Devildom. You had flushed at this, ducking your head down, doll lashes obscuring your sweet eyes, panicked and flustered and unsure how to respond.

However, after your initial awkwardness around Diavolo, you realized that he was absolutely marvelous as a companion and a friend.

Diavolo was a kindred spirit to you, in a sense — the woodland animals (if you could call them that) of the Devildom seemed to flock to him like he was a cartoon princess, and he was as sweet, gentle, and caring as an angel would be. However, you had noticed that he wasn’t very in touch with nature; seldom did he ever go outside for any reason other than getting from place to place, and the only person besides you who ventured into the castle gardens was Barbatos, the stoic butler. He had felt no need to explore nature, and that did confuse you a bit and make it harder for you to communicate with him, but you dismissed it, as you did with everyone who didn’t really like to be in touch with nature as much as you did.

But one day, when you were spending time lounging in the gardens with a good book and a warm cup of lavender tea, you were pleasantly surprised to see him walk through the ornate door. He’d walked over to you, his nervous demeanor and fidgety fingers an accursed opposition to his status as the future ruler of the Devildom. However, you had sat up, dusted the crumbs of your strawberry thumbprint cookies off of your flowy skirt, and invited him to sit with you, your gentle and sweet smile an invitation that he simply couldn’t refuse. When you had asked him why he was in the gardens, he confessed with an air of nervousness that he’d been looking for you, simply because your demeanor and your aura was one that he felt immense comfort and relaxation in. You had felt flattered at this, of course, but you laughed lightly at his wording. You explained to him that the soothing feeling he had around you was one that came when one was especially connected to nature. Nature was something that served as a bridge between man and the world, and your extraordinary connection to it had enchanted your energies and made you somewhat of a docile force of nature. In order to feel this more often, even when you weren’t around, you explained calmly as you offered him a few of your cookies, he should form a deeper connection with nature.

You had taken his hand in your smaller one to take him up to your cottage in the human world, the calluses on his hands reminding you of the sun baked river pebbles you had collected and stored in a mason jar on your shelf, and he’d been glancing around like an excited puppy upon your arrival into the forest, pointing out the moss climbing up the tall trunks of your friends, the trees, and the vibrant color of your sisters, the wildflowers. He’d been generous in talking about how beautiful your brothers and sisters, the mushrooms and the flowers, were, and you could feel them all blushing under his immense praise. You yourself couldn’t stop your smile as you took him to your cottage. After spending some time in the sunlit kitchen, you baking while he talked about how lovely the forest was, you two left the cottage and made your way down a winding cobblestone path that you seemed to know like the back of your hand, making way to a stretching meadow covered in wildflowers and lush grass. Trees arched overhead, filtering a crystal blue sky. You two chewed on the huge warm croissants you’d made not five minutes ago, hands intertwined as you strolled through the meadow. The bumblebees and ladybugs seemed to notice your presence and buzzed over to you, and he had let out a small exclamation of delight when one landed on your nose briefly, as if giving you a small kiss. He’d leaned over and given you a kiss where the ladybug had landed, right on the tip of your nose, and said that he’d read that ladybugs granted good luck, so maybe he could enhance that. You had flushed a pale pink and laughed lightly, amused. You two had strolled together for a while, basking in each other’s presence and just being in the moment, before he was summoned back for an urgent last minute student council meeting. He, albeit reluctantly, had finished the last of his croissant and beckoned you to follow him into the portal that Barbatos had summoned, promising to do this again with you sometime. You, with your saccharine smile and understanding eyes, had nodded and told him that you would hold him to it. Nowadays, you would leave a few croissants at his doorstep in a hand woven wicker basket with a purple ribbon on the handle, a letter attached to the basket with a thin string, and he would always write you a thank you letter, accompanied by a gift that he saw you eyeing in the store windows at the human world market that you frequented. He remembered that you much preferred letters to texting, much to your silent but sweet delight, and he was more than willing to write to you whenever the mood struck.

Barbatos had found himself rather amused at your delicate presence, your enchanting yet gentle aura reminding him of a fragile fairy flitting about, sleeping among the grasses and lounging in seashells, combing your hair. However, one day, you had managed to startle him slightly when you asked him if he wanted to accompany you to the human world. You explained that before you had been sent down to the Devildom, there was a tea garden that you would visit often, hidden away from most and becoming a haven for any traveler lucky enough to stumble upon it. Sometimes, the nymphs hailing from the twisting stream a few strides away from your cottage would walk in, all giggles and breezy laughs as they snacked on biscuits and rosepetal honey, their silky gowns dripping water across the floor. Other days, you would walk in to find the ram-horned general that guarded the fairy queen’s throne chewing on cute heart shaped jam cookies, dressed in his full suit of armor, or the white hare with five leverets around her, always dressed in a lacy blouse and two blue bows, chewing on her macarons with a wistful grace as she spoke gently about her children. Sometimes, you would start a conversation with the stern old man with skin like the bark of a tree who ordered a glass of wine and lemon bars every time, or the butterfly winged flower dwellers would pull you over to share gossip. You enjoyed the company you found there, and you wanted to share the joy and domesticity you felt with Barbatos, who seemed too cold and pent up to truly feel known, seen, loved. So when you walked with him through the portal and down the silver path only revealed under the luminous moonlight, you found your fingers intertwining with his as you walked, talking idly about your experience in the Devildom. He didn’t react much to the small action, but the white cat with piercing blue eyes who you fed a handful of blueberries one time whispers to you from a tree branch above, saying that Barbatos is enjoying himself. You smile at the feline’s words and squeeze Barbatos’ hand as you make your way into the tea garden. You take a seat by the window, pulling out his seat for him as you smile softly. The owner, a witch with feathers in her hair and a strange likeness to the portrait of a grand dame from the 1700s that nobody really questions and a necklace that dangles with a family jewel that she doesn’t speak of, approaches your table with her kind smile and her wooden tray already holding your usual order; a slice of strawberry rose cake enchanted with the sweet sugary dust that the pixies left behind as their wings shedded, and a glass of a light sparkling drink that shimmered a faint purple and tasted like springtime. One look at Barbatos, and she seemed to know exactly what he wanted. She soon arrived back to your table with a matcha latte in a dark cyan mug with a pawprint pattern and a slice of her signature cinnamon pie. He had thanked her politely, and she had huffed and told him to relax a bit more with a motherly smile before turning to serve others, long black robes floating off the ground slightly as she walked. After you two had finished your food and left, he admitted that he’d enjoyed spending time with you, and that he’d take you here again soon, if only to both see your gentle smile and to honor the promise he’d made to the small frog that held a tiny guitar and sat on the windowsill who he’d become acquainted with.

Spending time with those living in Purgatory Hall turned out to be quite an experience. They had naturally been drawn in by your gentle angel-like appearance, but when they found out you had a sweet personality and a shimmering smile to match, they were quick to show you welcome and adoration.

Solomon was fond of you, mostly because of the magic you harbored within you. You were a mysterious entity, a being whose magical abilities seemed far too powerful for someone as docile and innocent as you, but his little theory was quickly disproven once he voiced it to you and you spoke angrily to him about how you were not some tame little porcelain doll before you dumped your basket of baguettes on his head out of anger and stomped away with a huff, fingers holding up the flowy skirts of your favorite sundress with a vice grip. You later apologized for your actions, and he dismissed it with an air of nonchalance, although the crumbs in his hair and the wrinkles on your skirt were proof that he shouldn’t call you innocent or docile, even if he still harbored those thoughts somewhere in his head. After the incident, you two had proven to be rather good friends, showing off magic to each other during free periods. He would show you runes and spells that he could perform, and you would watch in awe as he covered a room in sparkling lights or turned someone’s figure into a marigold orange or a baby pink. You seemed to like the sparkly and showy spells more, but anytime he performed his spells outdoors, you would let out a yelp and quickly check on the plants and soil nearby to see if they were harmed by the magical properties of his spells. He would always assure you that no, his spells couldn’t harm the nature of any of the three realms unless he willed it to, but you were still anxious about it, always fretting over the fallen leaves and the grassy fields that he demonstrated on. In return, you showed him how to enchant your baked goods and items that you collected. You had been given a jar of honey and a porcelain teacup as an inheritance from the last fairy queen, who tragically passed on “under strange circumstances”, and a lone wizard no older than you who had drank by himself in the corner during the wake of the fairy queen’s funeral showed you how to enchant it, as well as a few other spells. When you had asked him why, he said that he was going to pass soon of an unknown heretic condition, and that he might as well give up his knowledge to another person who seemed so gentle and beautiful. After speaking with him some more, you had made yourself tea after the funeral and added the rich wildflower-infused honey to it, and when you had drank from the gold-rimmed teacup decorated with birds and blossoms, your singing had become sweet and enchanting, able to cause beasts to fall into deep slumbers and flowers to bloom all around you, the tides rising and falling at your command. When you had sang for him one time, it was in the forest while you two were looking for herbs with magical properties — he was looking for the bark of a blackthorn tree and shining willow for a potion he hadn’t tried yet while you searched for juniper berries and ginseng roots to enchant your pastries. He was enamored with your voice, and although the magical properties that had graced your chords had no effect on him, he was still charmed by your song and softly asked for an encore, which you did with flushed cheeks. All in all, you were lovely company to him, and he liked being around you, if only to hear your gentle voice again.

Simeon enjoyed the moments he got to spend with you. Like you, he was more in touch with nature than technology, but you often found yourself showing him how to fix the simpler functions on his D.D.D, such as the caps lock or the brightness or the volume. You two would often travel to the human world to frolic in the golden fields near your cottage, or you would spend time on the roof of said cottage with him, writing flowery poetry to read to the moon from the cottage window. You both were good at writing, but you could hone in on the littlest details about a person or a setting, while he tended to focus more on prose and plot. Solomon had joked that you and him should write a book together someday and that it would sell for eons across the three realms, unaware of the fact that you two absolutely loved writing together under the speckling moonlight. While he could whisper his words to his delicate gold-trim paper and charm it to write whatever he said in fine print, you preferred writing on your worn parchment with a fluffy white quill pen. He would take the opportunity of his free hands to place one atop your hand that wasn’t writing, and you would halt your writing briefly before continuing with flushed cheeks that were clear as day under the moon’s sweet smile. He would always chuckle at you before turning his face back to admiring the radiant celestial being in the sky, but whenever you paused to glance up at him, enthralled by his otherworldly beauty, he would turn back to you as if he could see you without looking at you, and he would give you a little wink. Often, the night would end in you two quietly reading to each other and the moon, voices soft and gentle as you curled up in his arms, skin brushing against each other every now and then, causing a slight shiver to run up your spine and arms, to which he would chuckle lightly. Sometimes, if you two arrived early, you would spend the time picking berries and fruits with him in the forest, and you would snack on them while you wrote. The juices of the sweet foods would stain the parchment most of the time, and they would imprint a sweet scent into the papers. Other times, if you were lucky enough to get to the human realm even earlier, you would take the berries and fruits that had been collected, and you would bake biscuits and tarts with him, sharing them with him and having him feed pieces of them to you on the cozy porch of your cottage while you wrote. Your voice was a heavenly idyllic thing that he treasured, wanted to pluck a piece of and keep in a little glass box, just to have a small piece of you wherever he went. You were someone he adored dearly, and he wanted to be the cause of that innocuous twinkle in your eye, wanted to be the catalyst of that gentle smile you wore like a second skin, always brightening the world around you, natural and beautiful and serene as could be. Or perhaps you wore it as a cloak, a mask to conceal your inner turmoils and sufferings, your deepest pains and fears. Oh, how it pained him to see your broken expression when people mercilessly killed off acres and acres of the forests for their own selfish gain, or when someone pushed you away in disgust and told you that you were nothing more than a horrid blot on the imperfect world. You looked so broken when you cried, and it was a heart wrenching sight that only fueled his want, his desperate need to take your cherubic cheeks in his slender hands, to kiss your eyelids and the crown of your head and hold you gently, sweetly to his chest, to whisper soft reassurances to you and be your pillar of support. No amount of eloquently woven words could express how much you meant to him, and he was willing to wipe away all of your tears and kiss your eyelids and the crown of your head until his lips went numb if it meant that he saw that broken expression one moment less.

Luke absolutely adored you. You were so cute and sweet, and you smelled like sunshine and flowers, and not only did you never call him ‘Fido’ or ‘chihuahua’, but you actually stood up to the brothers and told them (albeit rather gently) to stop when they compared him to a dog or they barked at him in that stupid condescending tone! He was one hundred percent certain that you were an angel of some sort, and he would do anything to keep your sweet and pure presence around him. He would latch onto your side possessively when you two walked together between classes, holding your index and middle finger with his hand while he sent out the most intimidating glare he could muster to any demon who dared to so much as look at you funny, as opposed to the sweet smile you would offer to anyone who locked eyes with you for more than a second. You supposed that, given his appearance, his “most intimidating glare” wasn’t very intimidating — the demons he narrowed his eyes at probably saw his glare and his refusal to leave your side as him hiding behind you, glancing and staring warily at the demons in fear. You were too nice and sweet to be hanging around “those scummy, horrifying, lowest of the low demons”, according to him, and he was dead set on keeping you from being “corrupted and brought down to be tormented more by those selfish creatures”. You would simply laugh your kind and airy laugh before squeezing his hand gently as best you could and reassuring him that you could protect yourself, but you would always fall back on a powerful angel like Luke, to which he preened at the praise and declared that he would always protect you. He was always in awe of you, from your ethereal deity-like appearance of gentle smiles and long flowy dresses and the scent of honey and perfection, to your connection to nature and the way the rocks and the spindly trees seemed to be your brothers, the moon your mother and the wildflowers and rushing stream your sisters, no matter the realm. You were like an otherworldly spirit of the woods, and your grandiose stories and elegant tales of the fairy queen with huge pearlescent wings and her beautiful kingdom always made him visualize you as the sweet and loving fairy queen. One thing he would always put away time for was baking with you. Once he learned that you could bake since you were a child, he was quick to drag you to Purgatory Hall, pulling you into the kitchen and begging you to bake something with him. You had laughed, light and breezy, and calmed him down with a few reassuring head pats before looking through the kitchen cabinets to see if you could find any ingredients that you were familiar with. You found the necessities after a while and nodded for him to join you, his arms full of Celestial Realm ingredients that Simeon had brought down for him. You two baked together, chattering amongst yourselves animatedly as you filled the kitchen with a sweet scent that you’d never smelled before. You were more than happy to talk to him about anything his little heart desired to ramble on about, from his duties as an angel to his favorite treats to bake. You had ended up making your famous ‘night sky’ blueberry and lemon pie that animals from all over the forest would flock to your cottage to have a piece of, as well as glazed lavender honey cookies, complete with a small mason jar of your favorite jam when you were a child, the strawberry and lemon ‘Aphrodite’s Love Jam’. He, in turn, had made what was called Moon Rabbit Cookies in the Celestial Realm, which were dolloped with a shimmery cream and dusted with a pearlescent sugar-like substance that seemed to glow under the lighting of the kitchen lamps, along with the Selcouth Cakes that he’d perfected only recently. They seemed to shift from peachy orange to baby pink to a myriad of other colors, and he explained that the flavors were unknown and depended solely on the consumer’s energies and ethereal aura. When you had tried the small mug-sized cakes, the taste of mint and steeped mountain snow had cooled your tongue and relieved you of the drops

of perspiration that had formed on your forehead during the baking session. Another bite had the taste of strawberries and brown buttercream melting in your mouth and causing you to let out a soft him of nostalgia. He’d tried your cookies with a small spoon of jam and had exclaimed in delight, mouth still full, and immediately swallowed his bite and yelled for Simeon and Solomon to get into the kitchen and try your baking. They’d all joined you, and you all had had fun spending time together and snacking on baked goods, but only you caught the small beaming smile that Luke shot you, and only he saw the sweet and gentle smile that you had returned it with, the faintest trace of pomegranate juice on the corner of his mouth. That moment was when he’d sworn to be your one and only Guardian Angel, here and thus.

You had somehow managed to worm your way into the hearts of not only seven of some of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, but you had also managed to befriend the future ruler of hell, his butler, two angels, and an all powerful sorcerer king with over seventy two demons at his beck and call. You enjoyed their company, naive and sweet and oblivious to the way they would glare harshly at anybody who looked at you wrong or tried to touch you in any way that seemed unfriendly. No, you would go on about your day with a sweet idyllic smile, unaware of the trails of blood your protectors left behind you.

It was almost ironic — the most destructive catalyst in the Devildom wore a long flowy summerdress and a kind smile wherever they went.

You truly were something else.