#c: witch!eve

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

12 &13 with eve?

Desire

Ship: Agatha Harkness/Eve Fletcher

Summary: Agatha drops by for a surprise visit, and Eve finally caves to both their desires.

Word Count: 3.3k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: smut, (minor) character death, accidental murder, slight mistress kink, multiple orgasms, magical strap use, oral (Eve receiving), fingering, spanking, degradation, praise, breeding kink, Agatha's heavy use of pet names

A/N: I am. So so sorry this took me so long! But here it is, finally!

Eve enjoys her little cottage out in the middle of nowhere.

It's quiet, save for birdsong and the rustling of the trees in the distance from the wind.

It's cozy, with a fireplace in the living room, one that isn't needed even in winter when the oven is on.

The cottage is small.

Eve doesn't mind. There's only one of her out here anyhow.

Eve enjoys her little cottage out in the middle of nowhere, she muses as she sips her chamomile and lemongrass tea on the front porch.

She's a little lonely but…

She won't think about that.

Lonely is okay, Eve has long decided. As long she's a safe distance from everyone.

She tries to source all her needs from right here, out front, with her garden.

Her trips to the nearest town are infrequent and rare, always wearing a hoodie or a hat that covers her face when she wears sunglasses paired with it.

She doesn't want to be recognized.

Even though-

No.

Eve stands and brings her now empty mug inside to wash it in the sink.

“Hey, toots.”

Eve screams.

“Jesus!” She puts a hand over her heart, trembling. “Stop doing this to me.”

Agatha Harkness chuckles, and Eve’s heart seems to speed up, not slow down.

The dark witch has made it a habit to pop by whenever she feels like it, often scaring Eve with her sudden presence, as she did now.

“How's my favorite unwilling witch doing?”

Eve scowls.

“I'm not a witch, Agatha.”

She turns her back to the raven haired woman, and aggressively turns on the sink.

“Sure, hon. Been up to anything exciting since I've been gone?”

Eve shakes her head, scrubbing viciously at the inside of the mug as the water warms.

“You know I haven't.”

“Did you read the books I left with you?” Agatha asks.

Eve shrugs.

“They didn't have anything useful.”

“That's because you aren't applying yourself.”

There's clear derision in Agatha's voice.

“Just because you think I'm a witch, doesn't mean I am.” Eve replies, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

She turns the tap off, shaking the mug free of a few droplets of water before placing it on the drying rack.

“Are you here to stay for a while?”

“Maybe.” Agatha evasively answers.

“Well, if you are, you know where I keep the linens.”

“Now why would I bother with that when you have a perfectly big enough bed to share?”

Eve can't help the shiver that overtakes her at the sudden husky tone Agatha's voice has adopted.

Despite the dark witch’s frustration with her, she has frequently made multiple attempts to bed Eve.

Eve can admit Agatha is attractive.

But she doesn't trust herself.

Not after–

“Like I said, you know where the linens are.” Eve firmly replies, headed to the fridge.

It's nearing lunchtime.

Agatha blocks her way, pouting.

“How long are we going to play this game, buttercup?” She asks.

The nickname sets Eve’s face aflame, and Agatha's touch burns as she cups one of Eve’s cheeks in her hand.

“How long are you going to let the fear of your own magic control you?”

Eve jerks out of Agatha's touch.

“It isn't fear that's controlling me.” She snaps. “It's the fact that it- that I–”

Just as suddenly as it had come rushing to the surface, Eve’s anger dissipates.

The last time she had gotten truly angry she had–

Gentle fingers swipe away at her tears.

“Oh, angel.” Agatha sighs sadly. “Magic doesn't have to be violent, it just often reveals itself in times of great distress. It's not your fault that you hadn't known what blood runs through your veins, or that it reacted to a situation it deemed dangerous to you.”

“But I- I killed him, Agatha. I–”

Soft lips press themselves against her forehead.

“Come, sweetheart.” The dark witch whispers, guiding Eve to the living room couch, pulling her into her lap.

Eve would normally protest at being treated as if she were a child, but the hole in her chest has grown too great for her to do anything other than listen to the one person she talks to anymore.

Soothing circles are rubbed against her back, and Agatha somehow senses Eve needs quiet.

She silently cries, and after a while, feels all dried up.

“I hadn't meant to.” She roughly whispers, breaking the silence. “I hadn't meant to hurt him. To- to kill him. But when I found him in our bed, with another woman- I had asked him over and over if he was upset with me that we were struggling to have a baby. And he lied to me. He- I–”

A dry sob wracks Eve’s body, causing her to shudder.

“I don't know why I keep doing things wrong.”

“You haven't been.” Agatha's voice is soft, but firm. “You can't control other people, superstar. Unless you use a spell, but even then. Your husband made his choices of his own free will. A better spouse wouldn't have treated you so awfully.”

I wouldn't have treated you so awfully.

It's almost as if Eve can hear Agatha speak the words, though her mouth has ceased moving.

Heartbreak and loneliness yawn in the chasam that rests inside of Eve’s chest.

Her stomach rumbles.

“How about lunch, hm, toots?” Agatha laughs, and the sound soothes a little bit of the darkness swirling within Eve.

“That sounds nice.” Eve mumbles, and reluctantly gets off of Agatha's surprisingly comfortable lap.

Agatha won't let Eve help prepare the food, and there's something about watching the witch whirling around the kitchen, making what looks like soup and some sort of small pizza squares that's entirely captivating to Eve.

Agatha presents the meal with a flourish, and though Eve’s smile is muted, she grins wildly in response.

“Talk to me.” Eve quietly asks. “Ramble about your latest project.”

Agatha can sense the request laying underneath.

Speak so I don't have to think.

She happily complies and quickly dives into her favorite subject.

Magic.

Agatha becomes increasingly animated as she talks, and Eve’s attention is easily swept away by the witch.

She continues to listen as Agatha does the dishes while she dries, and when Agatha shuts off the tap, she pauses, briefly.

In the sudden silence, Eve unthinkingly rises to her tippy toes.

Her hand has found warm skin, and it curves naturally around it.

Agatha allows her head to be guided downward.

Her lips are slightly chapped, but Eve doesn't mind.

She doesn't have any thoughts to mind at all, her entire being focused on kissing Agatha.

Her other hand has found soft curls, and Agatha's own are at her waist, pulling Eve closer to her.

It's the sort of connection Eve hasn't allowed herself to entertain for a few years now.

Her knees feel weak.

Her head is spinning.

Oh, air. She needs air.

Gently, haltingly, she parts her lips from Agatha's, breathing heavily.

One of Agatha's hands travels from Eve’s waist to cup her face, and she gently brushes her thumb in a back and forth motion across her cheek, and her eyes search Eve’s.

Eve can't bear how those blue brights seem to pierce her through to her very soul, and so she closes the gap between her lips and Agatha's once more.

This time, Agatha's touch is hungry, and her tongue licks into Eve’s mouth, causing her to groan.

She finds herself being pushed up against the kitchen counter, her wrists pinned by Agatha's strong hands.

Eve’s neck aches with the strain of the angle it finds itself being tilted at, but she pays it little mind as Agatha kisses her so thoroughly she can barely think.

“Are you sure you want this, superstar?” Agatha husks out as she tenderly parts from Eve.

Eve feels dizzy.

Eve feels good.

Agatha makes her feel good.

Eve nods.

“I'm- I'm sure.” She pants out, still attempting to catch her breath.

It's a useless cause, because Agatha kisses her again, hard and eager, and Eve's breath becomes Agatha's, as Agatha's becomes hers.

The older woman's hands guide her as they make out, having Eve settle onto the counter, before they begin the task of undressing her.

As each piece of clothing is discarded, Eve’s thoughts seem to follow, and she's barely aware of the whimpering, moaning mess she's become.

Agatha's touch burns cold, her hands wandering, groping and trailing and teasing as she continues to kiss Eve.

The need for air becomes too great, however, and Eve is forced to push weakly against Agatha in an attempt to pull away.

The witch chuckles deeply in her throat.

“Too much, sweet pet?”

The world spins into unreality, and Eve feels fuzzy. Floating. Untethered.

Agatha chuckles again, and Eve whines when her long, nimble fingers pinch at her nipples.

“Is this why you fought so hard, angel?” Agatha's voice has turned husky.

It's insanely attractive.

“You didn't want me finding out what a cute little whore you are?”

Eve somehow flushes an even deeper shade of red than she already was.

“A-Agatha!” She moans.

The other woman’s lips curve into a smirk as they brush up against the side of Eve’s neck.

“Say my name again.” She orders.

“Agatha.” Eve breathlessly obeys. “Agatha.”

“Oh, good girl.” The witch purrs, and Eve’s need becomes white hot.

A soft whine is pulled from her as Agatha attaches her lips to the soft flesh of Eve’s neck, sucking gently at first before biting down, causing Eve to mewl with want.

A rough tongue gently lavishes its attention to the bite, and Eve tips her head back, making herself more easily accessible.

The soft sting of Agatha's magic that she somehow knows from the handful of times the other woman has used it around her brushes against Eve, and there's the sudden feeling of Agatha’s cool skin against her own overheated flesh.

“Agatha, please.” Eve whimpers.

Blue bright eyes darkened by arousal and need and lust meet Eve’s own sky blues, lips reddened and plush dangerously curved in a wicked smile allowing a chuckle to pass from between them.

“Of course, darling.” Agatha husks out, her hands coming up to cup Eve’s face. “How could I resist when you beg so prettily?”

Eve’s hands encircle Agatha's wrists, and she feels a thrill of excitement, but also a thrill of trepidation.

“Just go slow?” She asks. “I've never… I've only been with men.”

Agatha's eyes suddenly look somewhere between pitiful and eager.

“Oh you poor thing.”

Eve closes her eyes and turns her head away, unable to bear the pity.

“They weren't all… Bad.” She mumbles.

“Tell me, did any of them make you finish without you having to help them build yourself up to it?” Agatha demands, her hands slipping from Eve’s face.

Eve stays silent.

Agatha's hand firmly takes hold of her chin, and gently guides Eve to make eye contact with her once more.

“I can't believe you're this innocent, buttercup.” Agatha says. “You've never known what true pleasure feels like… It makes me want to wreck you."

A whimper gets stuck halfway out of Eve's throat as Agatha slides her hands down Eve’s body, lowering herself to her knees.

Agatha tugs at Eve’s legs, bringing her to the edge of the counter, and Eve’s certain that's not the only edge Agatha will be bringing her to as the witch begins to use her mouth to tease at Eve’s inner thighs, purposefully ignoring her soaking wet center.

Soft curls once more find their way around Eve’s fingers, and Agatha laughs softly.

“Eager now, aren't we, toots?”

“Please, Agatha.” Eve begs. “I need you.”

Agatha's response is to press a kiss in between Eve’s legs, causing her to tremble with anticipation.

“Please.” She breathes out, wide eyed.

A long moan tumbles out of her as her nerves turn to fire when Agatha's warm tongue begins to lick at her, swirling around her clit, shallowly delving into her sopping cunt before licking through her folds again.

Something crashes into the sink as Eve begins to writhe on the countertop, her mind heedy and clouded by bright pleasure, but neither she nor Agatha pay any mind as the older woman sucks Eve’s little bundle of nerves into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” Eve cries out. “Fuck! Agatha!”

It's embarrassingly quick, how swiftly Eve’s first orgasm comes crashing over her, and she screams her lover's name.

Agatha pulls away to cackle, and for some godforsaken reason, Eve finds it to be the sexist thing she's ever heard.

“I'm not through with you yet, superstar.” Agatha laughs, and with only that as her warning, two fingers slip into Eve, stretching her out.

“O-oh!” She gasps. “Shit!”

“There we go, toots. Take my fingers, like the good fucking slut I know you are.”

Eve groans as she thrashes.

“M-more! Please!”

“What a greedy little thing you are.” Agatha husks out darkly, withdrawing her fingers to deliver a mind melding slap directly to Eve’s exposed pussy.

“Ah!” She cries, and can feel wetness gush from her dripping hole.

“Did the dumb whore like that?” Agatha cruelly asks. “Does the little princess want her dumb cunt to be spanked?”

A wanton moan slips out from Eve, and she isn't sure when Agatha stood back from her knees, but she's suddenly towering over her, despite the fact that Eve is up on the counter.

“Oh, someone likes the idea of that.” Agatha punctures her words with another slap to Eve’s bare pussy.

“W-what happened t-to slow?” Eve stutters out, pleasure nearly overwhelming her.

Agatha only raises a brow.

“Is that what you still want?” She asks. “For me to take things slow?”

A single long, blackened digit begins to lightly circle Eve’s clit agonizingly slowly, and when she tries to squirm, Agatha's magic pins her down, causing Eve to throw her head back with ecstasy.

Agatha's magic has never felt so… Orgasmic against her skin like this before.

“Oh dear.” Agatha laughs. “I don't think you do want to still take things slow.”

Suddenly, the finger on her clit becomes two, and the pace it's rubbing against her is much faster.

“A-A-A–!” Eve tries to scream Agatha's name, but she can't make it past the first syllable.

“That's it, angel.” Agatha encourages, her eyes focused wholly on how Eve leaks against her. “Come for me. Come for mistress.”

It's the title that does it, it's the title that causes the coil inside of Eve to snap, burning with pleasure.

She comes hard, unable to breathe from the intensity, her body going rigid.

“Oh, Eve.” Agatha breaths out, her voice full of awe.

Eve falls back as her peak drops, panting heavily, eyes closed as her head feels like it's in the stratosphere.

“Baby, have you ever done that before? Or am I the first?”

Eve groans in complaint. She doesn't have any idea what Agatha's saying.

“Eve.” Agatha's voice is firm. “Look at me, dear.”

Reluctantly, Eve scraps together her will power, and peels her eyes open.

Agatha's gaze is intense, burning ice blue fire.

“Has anyone else ever made you squirt before?”

Eve gapes at Agatha.

She must be misunderstanding.

Her head is still spinning, and she's still panting heavily.

She must be misunderstan–

Agatha's rough kiss interrupts her thought, and she thinks she can taste herself on the other woman’s tongue.

“I can't believe what a gift you've given me, darling.”

Oh.

Eve looks up at Agatha, mouth slightly parted, eyes wide.

“I'm never letting you go.”

The statement should scare Eve.

Instead, she finds herself grasping at Agatha's shoulders, bringing her closer.

“Prove it.” She orders. “Show me.”

This time, Agatha's kiss is slow and sweet, and has Eve melting under touch.

“You're mine, superstar.” Agatha says as she pulls away.

Eve bites her lip.

“I'll prove it to you.” Agatha vows.

She begins to pepper kisses all over Eve’s skin, praising every inch of her.

“You're beautiful, doll.” Agatha says. “You're absolutely perfect.”

When she reaches the apex of Eve’s thighs, she reverently kisses her clit.

“I'm going to make you feel so good.” She promises, like she hasn't already.

“Please, Agatha. Please make me come.”

Agatha groans, and takes Eve into her mouth, causing Eve to arch her back.

She rapidly builds up to a blinding orgasm, and this time she can feel it when she squirts again, silently screaming from how the ecstasy rips through her.

And then there's something suddenly prodding at her entrance, and when Agatha slides into her with one smooth motion, Eve nearly blacks out.

Never before has Eve ever had a partner in bed who made her feel so good from the simple act of penetration.

Agatha groans.

“Your cunt is so tight around my strap, angel. Just perfect for me.”

Eve whimpers. Could Agatha feel her?

She gets her answer soon enough, as Agatha picks up a steady paste, and it isn't just Eve who's making noises of pleasure.

“Gonna cum in you, gonna make you take all of me.” Agatha growls. “Gonna get you fucking pregnant when no one else could.”

Coming from anyone else, Eve would have felt too bad at that last statement to not be in an instant turn off.

Agatha, it appears, has somehow become an impulsive exception.

“Want you!” Eve gasps out. “Breed me, breed me!”

The strap doesn't twitch, being made of the silicone it is, but as Agatha's eyes roll back inside her head, Eve senses it would have.

And then something is being released inside of her from Agatha, the sensation of being stuffed full of cum causing Eve's own eyes to roll around her skull as she follows Agatha over the edge.

“Fuck.” Agatha hisses, her pace not having stopped for a moment. “Gonna keep fucking this fucking greedy hole of yours, gonna give you all my come, gonna make you milk me dry.”

When Agatha roughly starts circling her clit, Eve begins to thrash about, overstimulated.

And then Agatha comes again.

And again.

And again.

On and on and on, until all Eve can do is just lay there and take it.

A gentle kiss pressed against her nose causes her eyes to flutter open.

The bed underneath her is soft.

The… Bed?

“Wha..?” Eve slurs.

Agatha softly laughs.

“Welcome back, dear.”

Her head feels stuffed full of cotton.

“Wha- where did I go?” Eve's mouth also feels stuffed full of cotton.

Agatha laughs again.

“Don't worry about that right now, sweet thing. Can you sit up for me?”

Eve groans, but Agatha's steady hands help her up, and when her wet hair moves against her still bare skin, her stomach flips.

“You used your magic on me.” Eve accuses.

Agatha clicks her tongue.

“Nothing so paranormal, toots. You just experienced a deep subspace.”

Subspace..?

The word seems… Familiar, somehow.

Agatha sighs.

“I told you, dear, don't worry about that now.” She makes a gesture with her hands. “Turn around, hon, I'm going to braid your hair for you.”

Eve lethargically shuffles around, and as Agatha's long, gentle fingers comb through her hair, parting it, she finds her eyes slipping shut once more.

“Don't fall asleep on me until I've finished, pet.” Agatha's amusedly says.

“Mmm…” Eve sleepily hums as Agatha begins plaiting.

The witch’s hands are skilled, and it doesn't take much longer than a couple of minutes before Eve’s hair has been braided back.

“Come, now you can sleep, superstar.” Agatha whispers in her ear, pulling Eve down to the pillows.

Except… The pillow her cheek is resting on is oddly war– oh!

“You're cozy.” Eve mumbles out.

Agatha's chuckle rumbles.

“I'm glad, my dear.”

“You'll stay?”

There's a brief pause, and for a moment, fear nearly awakens Eve properly, before Agatha's arms squeeze around her.

“I'll stay.”

Eve relaxes again.

“‘Kay, good.”

Agatha laughs, clear and loud, startled.

Eve thinks it's the most musical sound she's heard.

“Yeah, good.” Agatha agrees, and a soft kiss is pressed against Eve’s temple. “Now go to sleep, darling. I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” Eve anxiously asks.

“I promise, Eve.”

Eve smiles, and cuddles closer to Agatha, finally allowing herself to rest.

“Thank you.” She sleepily slurs.

“Of course, angel. Of course.”

[goldberry-edition]

Happy Halloween from Anna and Goldberry!

[just-bible-musings]

Hmm. You know, we do see this in the Bible, too.

Abraham and Hagar- Abraham knew God was supposed to give him a son, so Satan (using Abraham's wife Sarah) convinced Abraham to have a child with a maidservant instead of waiting on God's miracle of making Sarah pregnant with Isaac

Joseph- Satan knew Joseph's dreams meant he would become some kind of ruler, so he convinced Joseph to brag about his dreams to make his brothers jealous so they'd try to kill him. God turned it around so that Joseph ended up becoming the second most powerful man in Egypt

Moses- he was always destined to deliver the Hebrews from Egypt, so Satan convinced him the best way to do it was to murder a man, which instead forced Moses to spend 40 years in exile before God came to him and basically said, "ok, now how 'bout we try this my way?"

Jesus- Satan tried to tempt the Creator of the universe to bow down and worship him. Like, seriously, Satan? You tried to convince the One who owns the whole universe that you had the power to give Him anything? Jesus responded with a Bible verse and Satan fled.

Once in a while, God does tell someone their destiny. If He has, stop trying to make it happen. He will give it to you.

Evil’s Offer

I just have been thinking recently on how the White Witch in the beginning told Edmund that she’d make him a prince. 

I just find it so ironic, because he was always destined to be king. 

And I just chewed on that thought for a while, and I realized that it’s what evil always does: It knows our destiny and our potential, and it does everything in its power to sell us the cheaper version. It knows if we step into our true potential at full capacity, its stronghold of power crumbles. 

I hope I never make the mistake of choosing the knock-off version of my own destiny. I guess the best way to know is to never accept the version that puts you in a position under evil’s feet. 

If only evil was always so recognizable as the White Witch. 

[ennn]

Agatha and Rio as star-crossed lovers: Why a happy ending for them is unlikely (for now) but it'll be okay (probably?)

Look, I’m obsessed with these two—both their complex characters, their crazy unique dynamic—it’s a ship I actually can’t play favourites with!

BUT I also fully expect these two will fight it out in the finale and they aren’t headed for a happy ending, at least not a happy ending where they walk off happily into the sunset together at the end of this series and we shippers should maybe try to not freak out about it.

Let’s look at what the show is—in my opinion—telling us about these two. Under the cut for spoilers and my heap of meta thoughts–

Agatha’s arc is about her finding her coven, her community

I’ve written a bit more about the show’s and our protagonist's arc here: Basically underneath all that lust for power, Agatha’s deepest desire is to find a coven, a family of witches she can share her trials and blessings with. Agatha loves powerful witchcraft and she wants someone to share it with.

And she did find Rio. These two incredibly lonely women found each other, fell in love, and probably murdered their way through so many people together.

But then Agatha had a child and realised she could be a little bit less selfish for another human being. And then Rio took him away and they separated but i think they ultimately never dealt with what I think is at the heart of their rift now, of Agatha still having that bit of humanity and vulnerability for human connection in her.

Now of course at this point I don’t know what Rio’s deal is exactly. Is she human? Was she human? What happened in her past? What we do know is that Rio has a certain detachment from people, and that she enjoys watching Agatha kill witches.

Right now Agatha's getting a taste of what having a coven can be like. Something she's not had in centuries. Them working together, making magic together. That moment during the campfire where she realised they were laughing with her. The shared experience of riding those broomsticks.

Yes, covens—like any kind of family or community—can be good or bad. They can lift you up or tear you down. Agatha's first coven and mother failed her, we'll see how this one fares (especially after what we saw in episode 5). Will they be enough to bring out more of Agatha's humanity?

The thing is, Agatha is going on a bit of a character development journey and Rio—whose her world hasn't been rocked the same way Agatha's has—isn't.

Now I don't expect Agatha to turn over a new leaf by the end of the series but I expect her to be in a somewhat different place from where she started, and Rio I expect will not be in that same place. At least not by this series' end.

There is a certain tension at the end of episode 4 after Rio brings up the topic of "the boy". And again when Rio watches Agatha leave the cabin in episode 5. I think Rio is recognising that this isn't the Agatha she knew and first fell in love with many years ago, and she's not happy about it.

Agatha's moving in a direction Rio might not be able to follow, and I expect that's where we'll get our conflict down the road.

In a world without logistical limits, it's not impossible for these two to be together given enough time and character development (and hey that's what fic is for) but with 4 episodes remaining I expect we'll at best get more of a bittersweet resolution for them, after both of them finally let loose the anger they have at each other.

A closing of a chapter, I suppose, but not necessarily The End.

Agatha and Rio love each other, but they also bring out the worst in each other

It’s clear that these two have loved and do still have love for each other. That they found a special connection with each other that has maybe even saved one or the both of them before.

But they can also be standing in each other's way.

I'm reminded of these lines from Killing Eve:

I think my monster encourages your monster, right? I think I wanted it too.

Look, Agatha can't have a community if she keeps killing members of that community in the pursuit of power. Yes, with Rio around, it's terribly romantic: the two of them against the world. But what if Agatha actually wants to be a part of that world, even a little?

And as for Rio, now this is just my theory but it's possible Rio is perhaps too focused on the darker aspects of her role, of her power.

As The Green Witch, isn’t she meant to be more than Death?

I've been marvelling at all the details in Rio's nature-themed warrior witch outfit. It's beautiful, a celebration of life. She clearly has a strong connection with plants; there's a cute spider on her jacket; she's shown some ability to heal. Even her Death outfit has vines and roots forming her chest piece — what happened with Rio to make her hone in on spreading violence and death?

It just feels like there's a story there, to have her be The Green Witch as opposed to a more traditional or mainstream manifestation of a Death entity.

It's clear that these two came together and did monstrous things. There's usually reasons for that. Human or not, I suspect Rio has her own pain, one that's warping the balance of nature. Maybe they both need to heal in their own way, apart from each other.

This relationship is important to the show

Whatever happens, it's clear that this relationship is key to Agatha's story and the show. Their relationship, with its soft moments and sharp edges, filled much of the first episode on purpose and I expect it to play a major part in the finale as well – an appropriate bookend – including the fight between them.

You could even say that it's actually a good thing that these two are getting the focus at the show's start and end. It's always been Agatha and Rio: understanding each other, at each other's throats, pushing each other, tearing at each other, wanting but not meeting each other.

The thing about this being a "small stakes" show is that the cause of the fight happening between them can be very personal. A lovers' quarrel. Rio may simply want to kill Agatha for something she did, or in rage or fear of losing her.

On that note though, these two have such a long and complicated – and as Hahn once put it "toxic maybe but loving" – relationship that one big violent messy fight in itself doesn't worry me. I mean, we've all seen episode one.

Maybe sometimes you have to bleed to let the poison out.

This is still a love story.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 11)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 4495

A/N: Yes I did drop off the face of the earth for a bit but can I make it up to you with an extra long chapter?

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 11, Next Chapter

Your fight was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, and that's when you received an owl from him which was rare during dinner. He didn't pay you any attention, so you decided to take the letter to the lake and read it by yourself so no one could interrupt you and he couldn't watch or analyse you open it. You sat down by the water and opened it.

"My dearest, Y/N,

Oh how I've fucked up, in life constantly but with you in more ways than one. I don't know how to express my words in person I've never been good at words when it came to the important things like people. This is version five of this letter.

I traveled home after Monday. I couldn't bare to look at that desk, I couldn't go to Sirius as his home will forever smell like the first time I kissed you. When I arrived I found your letters, they made me realise you left to protect us from ending up in this very situation, I thought it was from fear of getting told off for being home late but really you knew that Percy was looking for clues. Unfortunately his letter found me first and convinced me to push you away, that I was risking too much by risking your schooling, I don't care about my career, what's life if you only live for a job but I don't want to mess up your future. I take my job very seriously but life is  more important.

You were right when you said I'm scared of having something good, however you were wrong when you said you were convenient. You're far from it. I might be lonely but that's not why I'm drawn to you, I'm drawn to your wit, I'm drawn to your smile and I'm drawn to your world. If we could spend forever sitting on my sofa listening to music and talking I would die a happy man.

I don't know what my feelings for you are but they are strong and they scare me, you're much more important to me than anyone else I know and I fear to admit it. New Year's Eve I messed up, if we were ever going to kiss I wanted it to be after a date where I show you how you're meant to be loved and offer you the world not drunk on the steps of my best friends house.

I don't know how you feel about me and if I hurt you too much, if that's the case I am terribly sorry I wish I could make it right. If an inch of you still thinks I'm a decent man I have two offers for you.

A. If you want to remain friends and go back to last year's rules "no dear, no alcohol and no kissing" meet me tomorrow evening in my office for tea and tunes, or let me know in your own way

B: If you are up for an adventure my dear and willing to see what happens if we risk it and you still feel any attraction after my poor behaviour: Meet me tomorrow morning at 9am in Hogsmeade, next to the three broomsticks.

C: if you simply hate me like you said (at least 4 times using my full name I'm glad you don't know my middle name) all I ask is show up to my lessons, we can arrange another teacher to take over you 1-on-1 schooling but please show up. I promise to pretend I don't think you're the most amazing witch and woman I've ever met. Please don't let me ruin your exams or future.

Yours, Remus John Lupin.

P.S. To answer the question in your original letters from the 1st of January keep my sweater, it will simply be a painful memory if you choose C and I like the way it looks on you if you choose B ."

You felt a mixture of excitement and relief with his letter, it felt like everything has magically explained itself. Remus was an anxious writer with a tendency to sabotage his own happiness but he was trying. He was trying for you.

The next morning you woke up early to get ready to see Remus, you didn't know what to expect but you were excited. You arrived in Hogsmeade early knowing Remus as someone extremely punctual you were shocked to find Remus wasn't there. You waited until 9:05 but nothing, so you began to walk back at towards the castle. "Wait!" Remus said and you turned around to see him holding two cups of coffee, one of which had obviously slightly spilled on him. "It's with milk!" He said holding a coffee forward towards you.

"Thank you." You said grabbing it.

"I'm glad you came." He said softly.

"I'm glad you sent that letter." You replied. "You have coffee on your sweater." You pointed out reaching in your pocket for a tissue.

"I didn't think through apparating with two cups of coffee.' He admitted with a shy smile as you dabbed his jumper dry. "Thank you dear." He continued softly.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Where?"

"London, grab my hand and hold your coffee tight." He said reaching out a hand and you took hold of it and you appeared in Holborn, London.

"I thought that wasn't possible in Hogwarts." You admitted.

"That's why we met in Hogsmeade dear, sorry about being late, there was a queue." He admitted showing you the coffee.

"I thought you may have changed your mind." You admitted.

"I was scared you wouldn't come." He admitted.

"Liar you got two cups of coffee." You pointed out.

"I had a feeling you'd show up, now dear, see today as my way of apologising to you. I have a small plan but if you want to do anything just tell me." He said and at that moment you turned the corner to the British Museum. "Have you been here before?" He asked.

"Maybe once or twice as a kid."

"Okay but have you ever had a magic tour of this place?" He questioned and you shook your head. "Great." Remus led you into the British museum, he looked quite excited and more young now than ever. "Now not everyone knows that many treasures in this building are actually artefacts from great magicians."

"So they stole from wizards too?" You asked and Remus laughed.

"They sure did, now not many people know how some of these great people used magic to help muggles and how some of this stuff is either cursed or enchanted." Remus continued as you walked through the beautiful foyer.

"But I'm sure you do." You said teasing him and he nodded.

"I'm not just a pretty face, unlike you I spent a lot of time in libraries."

"Are you saying I don't study? I spend a lot of time in my professors office."

"You spend a lot of time listening to music and distracting me while I try to mark work, dear." He shot back and you laughed. "Now as I was saying, I may not be a rich man or have much to offer but I have a lot of knowledge."

"You should be a teacher." You said with a wink.

"You should be a comedian. Now enough talking watch this." He said and then one of the Egyptian statues moved and stood up.

"Holy shit, are you allowed to do that?" You asked looking around.

"Don't worry no one will notice." He said

"What was that?" You asked.

"It's a Pharos tomb guard, they're enchanted to stand when an attacker approaches, they have a lot of ancient magic in here."

"So why didn't they do that when they were removed from the tomb?" You asked as you and Remus continued to walk and look at the different statues.

"They did, they did for a very long time, however when dark wizards realised there's money in helping archaeologists they helped lift curses or limit enchanted objects. Those guards were stopped from being the soldiers they were, the only thing left is the command to stand when you summon them." Remus explained, you were impressed by his knowledge. You walked through  the ancient Egyptian part for another few minutes before Remus took hold of your hand and hurried you to the Ancient Greek part. "This bits my favourite, sorry is it okay if I do that?" He asked gesturing to your hand.

"It's encouraged." You blushed.

"Tell me when I cross a line Y/N, we still need to talk about us but first I want to hold my part of the deal, showing you who I actually am."

"And who are you profesor?"

"A lonely bookworm with a furry problem and a teaching job to pay the bills."

"Don't forget the cottage." You winked making him laugh.

"Now these are the Parthenon marbles, the Parthenon was being used as a base to store ammunition by the Ottomans and some idiot messed up and blew up the whole thing."

"Some idiot is that the technical term profesor?" You poked him in the arm and he rolled his eyes. You found him very attractive when he was more casually dressed, with his jacket drooped over his arms and a warm sweater on.

"It is now." He replied. "Long story short some guy named Lord Elgin went to Greece and asked the Ottomans can I have this? And they said sure and he took it, as lords usually do. It's missing a lot of parts as they're back where they belong but a small part of me feels lucky to have them here as they tell a story. You see if you come over here you'll see the Centaur." He led you over to the far wall. "He tells a story of the battle between Centaurs and Lapiths at the marriage feast of Peirithoos. And if you do this even with it's missing parts you get to watch it." He lifted his wand and the marble moved. It began plaything the story throughout the panels as if they were alive just like the paintings in Hogwarts. "And if you think that is cool look behind you." You turned around and the main sculptures were all moving, they were missing parts but they felt human.

"That's incredible, show me more." You expressed with a big smile and Remus couldn't help but smile back. "Come on." He said putting one arm around you while his other arm still had his jacket drooped over it. And like that, he led you through the museum holding your waist and making your heart flutter at his actions and brain amazed at the world of knowledge he was sharing with you.

It was one of the few times you saw Remus truly happy as he immersed himself in history. It was beautiful to see him care free not putting himself down, not talking about his condition just being himself. As you walked out the museum hours later he still had a hand around your waist. "Now dear what would you like to do?"

"Should we go get some food?"

"What a wonderful idea, there's a great pub not too far from here, only thing I need to get some cash out as I'm low on muggle money." He explained.

"I can pay."

"I'm sure you can but you won't I'm taking you out on a date it's my treat." He said as he rushed in front of you to the cash machine. "Okay" he said looking at it. "Okay, okay." He continued looking for where to insert his card. "Just a moment." He said after inserting it and just starring at all the options on the screen. "Merlin." He whispered quietly while pressing random buttons.

"You do know how to use it?" You asked suggestively.

"Of course I do." He said but he was obviously struggling.

"Here let me help you." You stood alongside him pressing the buttons for him. "How much do you want to withdraw?"

"£20?" He said hesitantly.

"£20?" You confirmed.

"£50."

"£50 are you sure?" You asked in disbelief.

"I'm not good with this, I haven't been in a muggle pub in forever I don't know the prices these days. I'm sorry, get however much you think it'll cost for us to have food. This is so embarrassing." He admitted.

"£50 it is, Remus the muggle world is my world it's okay to ask for help, I literally didn't know you could aparate in Hogsmeade." You calmed him while you finished the transaction.

"Yeah that was silly, everyone knows-"

"You don't know how to use a cash machine Remus!" You interrupted.

"I'll shut up. Now off to the pub, thank you for your help." He took your hand and lead the way. The pub was quite busy but you expected it as it was lunchtime on a Saturday. It was nice to sit opposite Remus having a meal, flirting, chatting and being yourselves. You didn't feel anxious like you did sometimes on dates, you felt like you were hanging out with a friend that you had a crush on, he would make you blush a lot with his words but he was also clumsy and stumbled a lot, something you never saw in him at Hogwarts. He ordered fish and chips and knocked over the sauces with his hand, when he went to pick them up, he hit his head on the edge of the table, you found it all cute and amusing but he was obviously embarrassed. "Am I making you slowly think I'm an idiot?" He asked after the incident and you simply replied with. "Only a little bit, makes you less intimidating."

"Am I intimidating?" He asked.

"Not at all." You said and he shook his head while laughing. After you ate you decided to take a walk along the river at first you began to talk about meaningless stuff like how you missed the Christmas lights or how Remus enjoyed the fact you can find oyster shells and old pipes on the rivers edge from the Victorian era. However the conversation changed when Remus asked. "What do you see us as?"

"I don't know." You admitted a bit of anxiety started to grow inside you.

"I don't know either, but I think we need to set some ground rules."

"What do you suggest?"

"Defining what's okay, like for example I think if either of us is developing strong feelings like love for the other we should cut it off as we don't want to hurt each other and with our current position we can't be in a relationship and be student and teacher." He said his eyes moving all over the place but avoiding you and he used his hands to emphasise what he was saying.

"How come?"

"Well for starters we can't do this all the time, if I was in love I would like to offer that person all my love, I would like to take them on dates, I would like to walk around and hold their hand, I would like to bring them to see my friends and so on... we can't do that, it will hurt to love someone but not be able to live in public, I don't want to risk the pain for either of us." He explained and you nodded.

"So what can we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to continue to relax in your office with you." You began and he nodded. "I want to be able to kiss you, I want to be myself with you, I want to smoke on the bridge with you and when no one is watching I want to be held by you."

"And we can do that we can just not love each other, and give each other a relationship that's the line."

"So we can see other people?" You questioned him and he looked puzzled.

"I would prefer not, I can't stop you but I may not feel comfortable with sleeping with you if you're kissing other men." He admitted.

"I'd prefer if you weren't kissing anyone else either... Can we do this sometimes?"

"Of course dear, however not as much as either of us would like to, maybe once a month or every so often not to raise suspicions."

"But I can come see you in your office every night?"

"My door is always open for you dear."

"Can I sleep in your office?"

"Where on the desk?" He remarked in a snarky way.

"Is that where you want to fuck me?" You matched his energy y.

"Well it's not for sleeping." He winked and the grabbed your hand."Enough serious conversations, let's just live a little before we have to worry about rules. Today, exists in a world of its own, what do you want to do?" He asked with a cheery tone.

"I mean checking out that desk sounds fun but maybe before that we should enjoy London."

"I'm already enjoying it right here." Remus said stopping and pulling you in closer, putting his arms around your waist. "I think I like London." He said looking at your lips.

"Oh really." You stood on your toes to get closer to him and he leaned down and kissed you lightly.

"Alright let's go I have an idea." He said once again grabbing your hand and leading the way. You walked into a small cosy record shop. You both started looking through the shelves showing each other records you thought the other would life and either replying with a "yes" or "not my style" once the yes like became tall enough you walked over to the record played and started listening to them, there was only one pair of headphones so you had to share, bringing in your heads close as you listened to the music. "Oh listen to that trumpet." You said listening to a Chet Baker vinyl. "Do you like it?"  Remus asked and you nodded. "This is one of my favourite songs, the earnest vocals, I fall in love too terribly fast, for it to ever last..." you began to sing along to the song and Remus smiled warmly at you, he couldn't help but kiss you on the cheek. "Let's buy it." He said.

"What Remus it's quite expensive?"

"That doesn't matter today dear." He said putting it back in the vinyl sleeve and taking it to the till. "Besides there's nothing more I want to do than lay in bed with you and listen to this here vinyl." He said while paying for the vinyl, he thanked the cashier a grumpy old man who didn't seem to care about your conversation. You continued to walk through London for a bit longer but it started to get colder and you both decided it was time to head home. "Okay, we need to aparate back separately as it may be busy with people at this time." He began. "You'll go first and I'll follow, I don't want to leave you alone back here, I'm sure you'll be okay but I don't want the stress." You nodded in reply. "Okay dear, once you are back it would be a good idea for you to go to your dorm or walk around somewhere far from my office, and in about thirty minutes from now come to my office and we can continue this evening." You nodded in reply and that's when he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you soon my dear." He said and you left. As you walked back to Hogwarts all the emotions rushed in, the excitement, the love you felt but shouldn't, the confusion from the conversation about not falling in love. You felt very overwhelmed but you also felt so many positive emotions that you couldn't wait to go visit Remus in his office. It was weird not being able to travel back with him after you were able to spent so long acting like a couple but it made sense you just wished it could be different. You walked back to your dorm room where Percy was sitting on the chair. "Hi Y/N." He said as he saw you coming in, you didn't reply. "Still giving me the silent treatment? You know I haven't done anything wrong all I wanted to do is spend time with my friend." He continued as you walked away.

"Our dear brother causing you trouble?" Fred asked as you walked past him.

"I'm going to hex him." You replied as your turned to the girls chambers.

"Be our guest." George said before you went into your chambers. It was good that Percy saw you, helps avoid his suspicions. You waited the thirty minutes before heading straight to Lupins office, just in case you checked if Percy followed you but he didn't so you were in the clear to go meet Remus. You walked through the corridors with a hint of excitement as you approached his office, you knocked on the door and Remus opened it almost immediately. "Hey you." He said with a smile letting you in and checking behind you if anyone was in the corridor, he closed the door and turned the lock before leading the way upstairs to his office where he also locked the door after you came in. "Hungry?" He asked as you sat down on the sofa.

"More peckish."

"Perfect, I have some cheeses here and some bread."

"How fancy." You pointed out looking at the small charcuterie board he prepared.

"Only the best for you." He said as he sat down beside you, a record he already had playing way playing in the background as you both sat their indulging into the different flavours. "Thank you for joining me today." Remus suddenly changed the subject.

"Thank you for showing me everything, and for the food and the vinyls, everything." You said a bit overwhelmed by his generosity.

"Come here." He gestured for you to come in closer, you lay on the sofa with your head on his crotch and he stroked your head lovingly, slowly playing with you hair. "I love how soft you hair is." He pointed out as he continued to stoke your hair. A few minutes later the vinyl playing finished and Remus gestured for you to sit up so he could change the music. "How about we try this one out dear." He said pulling out the new Chet Baker vinyl and your heart warmed. "Anything to drink? I've got a nice bottle of wine I've been thinking about opening."

"That sounds great."

"The music or the wine?" He clarified.

"Both."

"White or red dear?" He asked while opening a cabinet.

"What do you prefer? Maybe red?"

"Red it is." He pulled the bottle out and began to open it placing two glasses on the table in front of you and filling them up. "To wonderful day." He said raising his glass as he sat down. You rested your head against his shoulder as you sat in comfortable silence.

"You know moony, I prefer this when we're allowed to cuddle on the sofa and kiss sometimes." You broke the silence.

"Me too dear." He bought his hand up to your cheek and pecked your lips slightly before going back to the resting position. "I craved this every time you sat here and I sat at my desk aching to kiss you." He admitted. This was peace, you were in your safe place.

"Are you aching to kiss me now?" You asked quietly.

"Always." He whispered into your ear placing his glass down on the small table in front of you and then taking yours to do the same for you. He leaned in to kiss you, as the kiss depended you ended up laying on the sofa. He was above you his lips and your lips colliding as you both struggled to catch a breath. You felt him getting hard as he slowly moved his body up and down over you, you reached up for his shirt unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. "You're not wasting any time." He said between the kisses. His arms moved under your ass and he scooped you up in one movement so you were now straddling him, he pulled your shirt up and unclasped your bra as you began to grind on him making him harder and harder. He pulled away from your lips to suck on your nipples, the sensation made you moan in reply he grabbed your hair and pulled it down roughly making your head tilt back as he continued to worship your body. "Let's take this somewhere more comfortable." He said lifting you up and carrying you.

"You don't want to do it on your sofa?" You asked curiously.

"Oh I do, and my desk and every wall however today I will show you how you're meant to be loved not fucked." He said while pushing the door to his bedroom open and throwing you down on his bed. He unbuttoned your trousers and pulled them off along with your underwear, getting down on his knees and kissing your legs all the way up to your pussy. His hand reached up to your breasts where he started massaging them as his tongue flicked your clit making you moan. As he continued this movement with his tongue he moved his hand to slowly slip his fingers inside you pulling in and out while starting to alternate between sucking and licking. "Merlin you're either so wet or I'm drooling like a dog over how good you taste." He went straight back in and continued until you started begging for him as you felt yourself getting close. "Beg for me again." He growled as he moved to be just above you.

"Please." You barely whispered and he smashed his lips into yours, unbuckling his own trousers and taking them off while still keeping his lips on yours. You felt him thrust inside you leaving time for you to adjust, even though you remembered his size it shocked you how deep he filled you. "Are you okay dear?" He whispered checking in on you. "Mmhm." You confirm and he picked up the speed. He kissed you while going faster and started to slowly move his kisses down to your neck and breasts. You felt yourself get close as he ramped up the speed. "Cum for me dear, I want you to feel how good I make you feel." He said kissing his breath a bit. You couldn't hold it any longer and came which made him cum in you, you felt the warmth inside you as he slowed his pace and rested more of his body weight while moaning into your lips. He kissed you deeply once more before pulling out and laying down beside you. You were both panting as you lay there, Remus moved the covers and covered both of your bodies and kissed your forehead. "Good night dear." He whispered and you placed your head on his chest hugging him as his arm was around you. "Good night, Moony."

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[fandomnerd9602]

Cold Outside

StepSister!Wanda x Reader

For @lifespectator and @aloneodi

You and your stepsister Wanda had been up to your own brand of mischief. Ever since your first kiss with her on New Years Eve, it’s like the two of you could not get enough of each other. You always found little excuses to see one another and share kisses where no one could see you. Wanda and you were scared of what your parents would think of such a relationship.

But that didn’t stop you and her from having ‘cram sessions’ over at your apartment. Yes you and her did study for exams and homework. But afterward the two of you would celebrate with pizza, a marathon of her favorite shows and a little make out session. It was the perfect cover.

A perfect cover until it happened.

Your college town was hit with the worst blizzard of the year. Your classes were cancelled but somehow Wanda's were still on.

You tried to keep your apartment warm when you got a call from your stepsister, "detka?"

"what's the matter, Wanda?"

"the heater in my apartment broke. C-Can I come stay over at your place?"

“What about your roommate? yelena?”

“She’s hanging out with Kate. So can you please pick me up, detka?”

"Of course! I'll come pick you up." You grabbed your keys and ran to your car.

The wind was howling and the snow fall nearly blinded your view but yet you persisted on being there when Wanda stepped out from the college commons area.

You pull up outside of the commons and Wanda runs out from under the porch right to your car. The scarlet red scarf you bought her blowing in the wind. She quickly jumps in and blows into her hands, just trying to keep herself warm.

“Hello detka” she smiles at you.

“Hey you” you smile back, “let’s go home.”

It didn’t take long for you and Wanda to get home. You spent the time talking about whatever you wanted as you drove home.

You and Wanda truly enjoy spending whatever time you can together. Little moments here and there.

You turn on your television and switch it to your queue of Dick Van Dyke episodes. Wanda continues to enjoy her freshly brewed tea as you take a seat next to her.

“No better way to rough it through a blizzard, huh?” You give a little smirk to your stepsister.

“What are we?” She asks.

“What do you mean?” You genuinely ask.

“I-I mean…where do you see us?”

You gently take her free hand, “Wanda…there will never be another. You’re it. I’m totally in love with you. I-I want strings with you”

Your thumb glides across her knuckles.

“I want strings with you too” she giggles. “I want to tell everyone about us, but only when you’re ready.”

“When you’re ready,” you reassure her. She stares at you with adoring eyes. Her gazes lowers to your lips and then back to your eyes.

You pull her into your lap. Wanda giggles and leans in, kissing you. Her tongue glides across your lips, you can’t help but allow her access.

“Detka” she whispers against your lips.

You and Wanda continue to share long, loving, passionate kisses on your couch; lost in your own little world. Wanda giggles against your lips. Your hands wander up and down her spine.

So strong was the temptation to reach under her shirt but you truly loved her. You were willing to take things slow and enjoy all the little memories you have to form with the amazing young woman in your arms.

Your little moment of heaven was interrupted by the sound of Wanda’s cell phone. She let out a quick little squeak of embarrassment before rolling off your lap and grabbing her phone. The caller ID on her phone read Papa. You and her went pale white.

Wanda takes a deep breath, wanting to calm the beating of her heart from her moment of ecstasy. She answers the phone, “hello Papa” she puts it in speaker mode.

“Hello my little witch, I just wanted to be sure you were alright.” Your stepfather tries to explain. “That blizzard is something fierce.”

“I’m alright” Wanda giggles, “I’m at Y/N’s. My apartment’s heater went out.”

“Hey Pops” you call out.

“You all okay?” Your stepfather asks back.

“Y-yeah” you try to answer. “I was about to put a pizza in the oven and turn on some Dick Van Dyke.”

“Okay” Django answers back. “According to the weather channel, the blizzard won’t clear up for two days”

You and Wanda look to each other, you can already see the ideas forming in Wanda’s head.

“Think you’ll be alright?” Your stepfather asks.

“Yes Papa,” Wanda answers, “I think we’ll be alright. We’ve got homework and tv and…”

“Okay. Love you both” Django answers before hanging up.

You and your detka look at one another. You can’t help but share a laugh. She collapses against your chest.

“You hungry?” You ask her playfully as you wrap her in a hug.

“Yes. For pizza…and you” she giggles at her own response. You give her one last kiss to her lips and one more to her forehead.

It sure is cold outside but it’s nice and warm in your little apartment. You will have to tell her father and your mother eventually but until then you’re just gonna enjoy your time together. You and the love of your life: Wanda Maximoff.

[acourtofkindness]

Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection! Some of these are one-shots, some are longer stories, just click your way through them and also check out their other fics!

A Court of Vice and Victors

by @wishcamper Acosf rewrite where Nesta actually gets help and she and Cassian have a healthier dynamic, plus an Illyrian murder mystery

Pages Turned

by @climbthemountain2020 A character study on Nesta Archeron, the hardships she's faced through her life, and how they've shaped her as a person.

Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself

by @witch-and-her-witcher Humans have just been freed from servitude to the fae after years at war on Prythian and times are desperate for Nesta Archeron. With Feyre MIA and Elain a shell of herself, her options are becoming increasingly limited. When one of the young fae warriors, Cassian, who has carved a name for himself on the battlefield proposes to her after recognizing a mating bond between them, Nesta doesn't see any choice but to agree to take him as her husband and move herself and her sister to his home Court and the wilds of Illyria. War brings them together, a bond binds them - but is that enough for two broken people to find love with each other?

Firm and Fragrant Still the Brambleberries

by @foundress0fnothing When Nesta became a nurse at the start of the war, she could not have predicted a patient as challenging as Lieutenant Cassian Davies, nor he a nurse as captivating as her. As the same war that brought them together threatens to tear them apart, Nesta and Cassian must navigate the complexities of love and duty to find the way back to each other. A WWI historical AU.

Wreck My Plans, That's My Man

by @c-e-d-dreamer Drummer for the Bat Boys, Cassian has a large following, but sometimes Nesta doesn't appreciate fangirls calling themselves "Cassian's future wife."

It Looks As Though You're Letting Go

by @Darkcat18 (on ao3) Everyone is born with an arrow on the back of their hand which points to their soulmate at midnight on their eighteenth birthday. After her parents' disastrous marriage and her father's subsequent depression following the death of her mother, Nesta realized a soulmate is nothing more than guaranteed heartache and ruination. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she packs up her car and leaves her family and life behind forever. What she doesn't count on, however, is having a soulmate like Cassian, who may be the one to prove to her that a soulmate is what she needs.

I Guess It's Half Timing (And The Other Half's Luck)

by @moodymelanist Nesta and Cassian have a steamy one-night stand while out celebrating St. Patrick’s Day, but their lives are changed forever once Nesta realizes her period is late. Follow along as Nesta and Cassian navigate preparing to become parents, balancing their other life stresses, and figuring out their feelings for one another!

Amidst the Madness

by @This_Immortal_Hope (on ao3) Love and war have always followed the same rules: Quick to ignite, slow to extinguish. There aren't many things Cassian has dared to openly want in his 500 years of existence. Not even the position he currently occupies as Lord of Windahaven (far too lofty a spot for nothing more than a well-blodded bastard, if you ask the other Illyrian Lords), but from the second Nesta Archeron stepped foot in his camp, the entire world ebbed into a single truth. She is his. He is hers. Everything else - the war he is meant to lead, the people relying on him, the legacy he should be fighting to protect, cease to exist the second his eyes are caught in roiling silver flames. There is pain in this female, his female. And retribution will be exacted. Rhysand has his war, and now so does Cassian. Whether the two align ... only Nesta can give that order.

Sweetest Con

by @separatist-apologist Nesta Archeron has been trapped in witness protection for the past five years, hiding a secret no one can ever learn. All she has to do is wait out the criminals back home determined to punish her and her sisters for a lie they told years before. She can handle anything- even the new agent sent to keep her safe.

The Whole Truth

by @TheTeaQueen (on ao3) A beautifully heartbreaking story about what if Papa Archeron used/sold Nesta back in their village, and the IC learning this truth. It features Rhys and Nesta sibling bonding over their respective SA traumas. And Cassian helping Nesta to heal and feel comfortable with touch again

The Nesta Variation

by @persegrace (on ao3) A modern AU where Cassian is a military vet and Nesta is a former ballet dancer. They're both dealing with trauma, and meet in AA.

Ultima Ex Nobis

by @fieldofdaisiies Six years into a global pandemic which was caused by a mass fungal infection that turns hosts into zombie-like creatures and makes the whole of Prythian collapse, the former army general Cassian Cadell is tasked with one very special mission – escorting Nesta Archeron, one of the few immune survivors, across a post-apocalyptic Prythian to a group of people of the name L. Their identity is unknown but they can make an antidote.

you make my motor run

by @wilde-knight When Nesta and Cassian are set up on a blind date, neither of them can imagine their families feeling whole again. But with sparks flying between them, will they finally be able to imagine the road ahead?

[dramioneasks]

Halloween Fics (2024):

Dia de los Muertos by RavenclawViking - M, WIP - Three pages of notes, three nights, three rituals. Three chances to say goodbye to her parents. That was all she wanted to do. That was all she had left. The one where Hermione goes into the Forbidden Forest to summon spirits and Draco is the only one how notices [WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON, TORTURE, DARK FIC]

Murder As A Love Language by stashandtell - E, one-shot - The brutal end of Nott Sr.'s last day gives way to the blissful beginning of Theo's night. [Draco x Hermione x Theo]

So Hot You’re Bringing Me Back To Life by jiexhua - M, 3 chapters - “Draco is dead, with no memories, no identity, no pulse. Ironically, he has an undying hunger for flesh that he tries not to think about by passing time on his broom, listening to records in a gaudy red and gold room he calls home, or reading books to keep his brain from rotting away. And then a girl sets his world on fire.” -Warm Bodies!Dramione for Halloween [WARNINGS: GORE]

D-R-A-C-O by Wheredoesshego - not rated, one-shot - When Pansy, Ginny and Hermione decide to play around with an Ouija board, they let someone in - someone who has been stuck in the afterlife, trying to get back to the object of his obsession. He has been waiting a long time, stuck in purgatory since his untimely death several years before. The Ouija board has let him in, but this dead Death Eater wants to do more than talk.

Eternal by Black_Phoenix22 - M, one-shot - It's Halloween, bitches!!! Draco Malfoy is a vampire and has set his sights on Hermione Granger. On Halloween night he gets his chance to make her Eternal.

Silent Screams and Stolen Kisses by feistyferret - T, 2 chapters - On Halloween night, the ancient corridors of Hogwarts hold more secrets than even Hermione Granger could have anticipated. Drawn into an eerie challenge by Draco Malfoy, she finds herself swept into a maze of shadowy enchantments, lingering glances, and teasing words, their rivalry giving way to an unexpected connection.

Dancing with the Devil by malfoycurse - E, WIP - An all Hallows eve Ball is presented to all students to attend, while most of the 8th years begrudgingly agree to partake without complaint. There are two who harbor similar obstacles: Hermione Granger, the golden girl saint, decides that she will represent in an Angel. It was fitting for her due to her being viewed by all as, "the girl who could doing no wrong". Inside she feels a burning desire to cut lose and enjoy herself...just wanting to be Hermione Granger...one thing she hadn't counted on was catching the eye of someone who she wishes didn't have the same desires. Draco Malfoy, ex Death Eater/reformed member of society, is dressed to the nines in a Devil costume. Reflecting on how the wizarding world saw him, a menace and deserving to be in hell. His longing to be accepted was something buried deep down inside of him. Something that neither him nor a curly haired book worm would care to admit. Sometimes it's better to be reckless.

Trick or Treat! by coldbrewcalico, virgo_puff - G, one-shot - Draco gets roped into trick-or-treating (aka begging for candy like a commoner) and falls into a trap shaped like matching costumes with Harry-freaking-Potter.

I Don't Have a Choice (but i still choose you) by WritingFicariously - M, one-shot - They've been circling each other for two months. An impromptu Muggle game during a Halloween-themed party forces Hermione and Draco to fess up to their feelings. Or maybe it will just make them snog.

Trick and Treat by des_reads7 - E, 2 chapters - Halloween is the one day of the year when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is at its thinnest. Hermione tries to take advantage of this and attempts to summon her old fling Fred Weasley from the veil, but ends up summoning someone else instead.

Love is the honey by WritingFicariously - T, one-shot - "Life is the flower for which love is the honey." -Victor Hugo

The Wonder of Wilful Witches by magicalsydney - E, one-shot - On a night of trick-or-treating, Lyra Malfoy reveals her father’s appreciation for a certain curly-haired witch's yabbos. Hermione finds a new found confidence in Lyra’s confession and goes after what she wants– Draco Malfoy.

Something to Live For by dramionelover1997 - M, one-shot - More than a decade after the war, a fun night out with friends takes a turn for the worst. But Draco realises his life is so much better than he could have imagined.

what you want. by ravenflorals - E, one-shot - As the party raged on, further did his temper simmer. He’d watched as everyone danced, donning costumes that made them look both ridiculous and endearing (if anyone heard that last part, don't say it out loud.) His eyes focused on Granger though. Dressed in a white gown that touches her knees, he focuses on the slip of skin she shows every time Weasley ( The back-on with Potter variety ) gives her a dip or spin. A little bit further and Draco could swear he’d see the marks he’d left on her thigh. She’s lightning on her feet and effortless as she goes. He feels like a stalker. Standing in a suit, he’s supposed to be Bond, like James Bond. But at the moment his only mission was getting her out of there. Away from the clawing hands of Adrien who haha! He just noticed dressed came as a fucking Devil. He’d heard the other Slytherin say at least ten pickup lines. ranging from “Aww man people will think we’re a couple.” With a sickening sweet glance. To calling her angelic. ៸៸ —- or the before, during, and after of an eighth year houseparty.

le petit mort by Babierhys - not rated, WIP - in which the unresolved tension between draco malfoy and hermione granger is pulled taut- unbearable and undeniable- till it snaps and they both come crashing down in a mess of kisses and other scandalous things right in the middle of the very first halloween ball at hogwarts. or, basically two idiots who are falling in love and completely unaware of it till they're naked and panting into each other at the astronomy tower.

The Game by Slytherinked - E, one-shot - Hermione might have known she would be taken. She couldn't, however, have predicted who her partner would be. The boy she had once loved, now the man who had left her behind. He swears he won't hurt her, but there are secrets behind his silver eyes, and generations of violence in his blood. It's the fourth year of The Game. Who will win? Who will die? [WARNINGS: CHARACTER DEATH, VIOLENCE]

Come Find Me, Hermione by GG500 - not rated, WIP - “Granger, Granger, Aren’t you a danger? Hurry now, there’s knowledge to bind, Wonder to find, Be vast, fast. Be unrefined. Your next clue’s a tale, If you can keep up with my trail. Come find me, Hermione.” A series of terrorist attacks begin on All Hallows’ Eve. The Auror Office suspects a new Dark Witch or Wizard has risen. Curse-Breaker Draco Malfoy prefers hunting down terrorists to socializing, but finds himself rescuing Hermione Granger from carnivorous pumpkins Halloween night. He'd like to keep out of her entangling hair, but Hermione's murderous penpal is his prime suspect. Despite a thriving career, an impetuous internship, and a double life bringing Time-Turners back to the wizarding world, Hermione finds herself terribly lonely. And, horrifyingly, Draco Malfoy keeps showing up in her flat to steal her "illegal" books out from under her bed—worse yet, saving her life in the process. (Teaser Quote) “Be wicked, be sly, and don’t you dare die.”

Draco Malfoy and his first Weasley Family Dinner by Anonymous - G, one-shot - Guess who’s coming to Halloween dinner at the Weasleys? Draco is! Hermione and Draco bake a special pie for the Weasley Family Dinner. Too bad they’ll never be invited back to dinner again…

Silent Screams and Stolen Kisses by feistyferret - T, 2 chapters - On Halloween night, the ancient corridors of Hogwarts hold more secrets than even Hermione Granger could have anticipated. Drawn into an eerie challenge by Draco Malfoy, she finds herself swept into a maze of shadowy enchantments, lingering glances, and teasing words, their rivalry giving way to an unexpected connection.

Trick and Treat by cleotheo - T, one-shot - When Hermione Granger agrees to attend a Halloween party with her best friend, she has no idea what sort of tricks and treats await her. Light-hearted Dramione One Shot.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 17/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

It was so cold.

Icy cold. The kind of cold that hurt your cheeks whenever the wind blew, the kind of cold that made every breath a cloud of steam that floated around their heads like smoke from a fire before drifting away. The snow-covered ground seemed to glow under the light of a full moon as they walked slowly across a deserted field. Two figures, swathed in coats and scarves, each carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle. One was much smaller than the other.

He stood in the center of an intricate rune circle, laid out in polished river stones, and waited for the figures to approach him.

He was cradled in his father’s arms as he and his mother marched across the snowy field, the cabin they’d rented for the week—where Maddie was still asleep—fading into the distance behind them.

He was slumped in a comfortable armchair in a house he had no business feeling safe enough to fall asleep in, exhaustion he could no longer ignore pulling him under.

He looked down at the sigil the stones formed in the snow. The lines were meticulously straight, the snow underneath them packed down in a perfect circle to form a smooth surface for the stones to lay on. He wondered if it would make it better or worse if there were signs of hesitance—a crooked stone where a hand had trembled; disturbed snow in other places in the field where someone paced back and forth, arguing with themselves or their spouse. Something to show that his parents had ever had a second thought. Had struggled with their decision for even a moment. Would it hurt more or less?

He lifted his head from his father’s shoulder, blinking as the cold, cold wind made his eyes water. He was tired and achy—he was always hurting and tired these days—and frowned as the bundle of blankets in Mom’s arms whimpered softly.

“It’s too cold for Ev to be out here,” he mumbled, the effort of holding his head up becoming too much. He snuggled back under Dad’s chin, felt his father’s arms tighten around him.

“It’ll be fine,” Dad said, but his voice sounded funny, fast and clipped, the way it got when the doctors started talking about things like ‘hospice’ and ‘pain management,’ the way it got when he didn’t want to hear what the person was saying. He licked his dry, cracked lips and kept watching his baby brother with a worried frown.

He heard Kinard’s voice across the room, but it sounded like the vampire was speaking through a long, long tunnel. He couldn’t make out the words. God, he was so tired. As soon as Grant’s coven stepped out of the house, it was like the entire day had caught up to him; he couldn’t keep his eyes open if he tried.

He watched his parents stop at the edge of the rune circle , watched his mother take a deep, steadying breath. She looked up at the moon, the silvered light doing nothing to soften the hard, determined lines of her face. Her familiar Gregor, a sharp-eyed Cardinal, was nowhere to be seen, nor was Hepzibah, the great gray cat his father was bonded with. He’d never known if his parents had forbidden their familiars from following or if they’d chosen not to, and he’d never had the courage to ask Sally. She’d always treated Gregor with the same polite disdain she treated his parents but she and Hepzibah had been cordial, if not exactly friends.

His mother walked into the center of the rune circle and he automatically stepped to one side, even though some part of him was aware that he wasn’t really here. He watched as she turned to face his father, shifting the tiny—so tiny, he was only a few months old when this all happened—bundle of blankets into one arm as she held out her hand to him. His head ached with the strange triple perspective of his experience: he was standing in the rune circle, he was curled in the surprisingly comfortable armchair in Kinard’s house, he was huddled in his father’s arms as he too stepped into the sigil lines and took his wife’s hand.

Kinard’s voice came again, louder this time, closer, but still muffled. The vampire touched his shoulder, shook it gently, but all he could do was mumble to himself, his eyes feeling weighed down, glued shut, his whole body feeling heavy and useless—the teleportation and the little display with Grant’s familiar had taken too much out of him for him to be able to shake himself out of the visions that always seemed so much harder to escape when he felt like this. His magic was a sputtering glow in the back of his mind, flickering tiredly as the vampire’s voice washed over him.

It was all right. He was safe with Tommy. He knew that.

He frowned, something in that thought catching at his brain, but he was too tired to parse it out.

He blinked slowly, watching with dull eyes as his mother knelt down in one section of the rune circle and laid the baby that was him down on the packed snow and unwrapping the blankets that swaddled him, exposing one tiny, tiny arm to the cold, cold air.

He stirred in his father’s arms, lifting his head again as his brother started wailing. “Dad—Dad it’s too cold,” he whispered urgently. “Mom? What’re you doing?”

“It’s all right Danny,” his mother said over her shoulder, pulling something out of her coat pocket that glinted briefly in the moonlight. She started chanting, the familiar language of spellcasting, but it sounded weird, somehow. Different. Not smooth and musical and warm…this sounded like music that was being played on a broken instrument.

“Mom?” he tried again, trying to wiggle out of Dad’s arms, but Dad just held him tightly. His stomach dropped, fear starting to spark through him. Mom just shook her head, still chanting, and she grabbed Evan’s (his, this had happened to him) arm and made a quick motion.

Evan (he—this had happened to him) started screaming. The high-pitched cries echoed in the snowy field and he tried to wiggle harder in Dad’s arms, tried to make him let him down so he could go to his baby brother. Evan was crying, Evan was scared, and this was wrong, this was all wrong. He didn’t have a familiar to help him with his magic, yet, but he could still feel it through the coven bonds and there was something wrong with it.

“Mom? Mama, don’t…don’t, he’s scared! Mama, you’re hurting him!” he cried, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks, the sick swoop of fear spreading through him, hot and cold at the same time. Something was wrong. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong…

A few drops of blood spattered on the snow underneath his baby brother.

He tried to blink away the vision—the memory—tried to banish it, to shake himself out of it, but he was so tired. He couldn’t force his eyes open, couldn’t make himself wake up. The fearful shouting, the discordant chanting, the wails of a baby in pain, it all blurred together and he tried to cover his face with his hands, to block out the sights, but he couldn’t…he wasn’t here, this wasn’t happening, this had already happened, and he couldn’t change it, couldn’t…

Solid arms slid under his body, and he was dimly aware of being lifted. Held. His head came to rest against someone’s shoulder, his cheek and forehead brushing strangely cool skin. Tommy. Almost instantly, the horrifying vision faded, growing dim and shadowy as Tommy’s strong, solid presence grew sharper in his senses. He wanted to ask what was going on, wanted to lift his head and see what the vampire was doing, but his body stubbornly refused to cooperate. It was all right. Tommy had him.

His magic hummed contentedly in the back of his mind, the calm certainty that all was well spreading over him like a warm blanket, pulling him further down into darkness. Tommy had him.

He was safe as long as Tommy had him.

*

Waking up in strange beds with only the vaguest notion of how he’d gotten there was starting to become a habit Evan reflected muzzily when he opened his eyes. He peered around the room a moment, trying to figure out what time it was—perhaps unsurprisingly, the windows were all fitted with thick blackout curtains, making it impossible to judge the time by the sunlight coming through the window. When he got up and flicked one curtain aside curiously, he found the window was also shuttered on the outside. Shaking his head, he made his way over to the room’s ensuite and did his morning business, taking a moment to examine his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

He looked better, if he did say so himself. He thought his face had more color, and there were no dark circles under his eyes. His five o’clock shadow from yesterday had crossed the line over into full-on scruff, but a cursory search through the cabinet under the sink turned up no shaving supplies, which he supposed made sense. Not like dead bodies (even if they were only technically dead) continued to grow hair.

Although…now he wondered how fixed a vampire’s appearance really was. He knew they could heal from just about any injury, barring beheading, incineration, or the classic stake through the heart. Though he was pretty sure he remembered Sally mentioning that said stake had to take out a pretty big portion of the vampire’s heart. Which implied that the heart’s ability to circulate a vampire’s blood had something to do with its healing, which implied they weren’t really dead. And back to his original point, if they could heal from any other injury in a matter of minutes or hours, did that mean their hair would grow back if they cut it or shaved it? How fast? Like, if a vampire was turned with a full beard, were they stuck with it forever? Or if they shaved it off, was that it? If they really overestimated how good they’d look with bangs, or had been one of those monks that did the weird, bald bowl cuts when they were turned, did they have to stay that way for all eternity?

He blinked, shaking his head before he could fall too far down into a rabbit hole of his own making. Like the bathroom at the loft, there was an only slightly suspect bottle of mouthwash under sink (he knew the brand, but he didn’t think the labels had had that design since he was in high school) and he took a swig of it, the sticky feeling in his mouth overcoming any worries he had about expiration dates.

He wondered why Tommy would keep mouthwash in his places at all…did he have human friends? Lovers? He paused at that thought, an odd feeling rushing through him. Tommy didn’t seem the type to keep a coven pet—one of the humans who gave themselves up as blood donors in exchange for money or protection or the promise of being turned eventually—and the lack of first aid supplies or, you know, food and drink in his safehouses didn’t indicate to Evan that humans were regular guests.

Shit, Evan was probably lucky there was toilet paper in the bathroom.

Sometime in the night, Tommy had deposited the bag of clothes he’d let Evan pick out from what he had on hand at the loft just inside the door, and Evan quickly changed into a fresh sweatshirt and a pair of track pants before wandering out of the bedroom and down the hall.

“Tom—” He stopped, suddenly realizing he’d been calling the vampire by his name in his head all morning…was about to call it out loud. “Uh, Kinard?” he finished, blinking rapidly and running a hand back through his hair. What the fuck? No. No, no, no that wasn’t good. Getting comfortable around the vampire was not a good idea, no matter how calm his magic felt around him, no matter how many times he seemed to be risking himself to protect Evan, no matter how generally…decent…Kinard seemed to be. A witch was never safe in the company of a vampire, and Evan needed to remember that.

The fact that he’d felt safer in the vampire’s company in the last day than he had in the last year (even if they had spent part of it fighting for their lives) didn’t matter.

Couldn’t matter.

“In here!” Kinard’s—Kinard, Kinard, Kinard, damn it—called from the living room. Evan made his way down the hall to find Kinard scrolling through his phone on the couch, a local news channel playing softly on an honest-to-God radio Evan hadn’t noticed sitting on one of the bookshelves last night. “Hey. Feeling better?” the vampire asked, looking Evan up and down as he walked over to the chair he’d fallen asleep in last night and dropped into it again.

He very determinedly did not think about the fact that Kinard must have carried him to bed like…okay, like some Victorian debutante last night. He tilted his head slightly and took stock of himself, closing his eyes for a moment and murmuring a mildly difficult conjuration spell. His magic leaps to his fingertips, the power coming easily and without strain.

He opened his eyes again with a smirk and lifted the steaming paper cup that had appeared in his hand to Kinard in a little toast. “I’m good, actually. Told you—sleep and carbs, and I’m good as new.” He lifted the conjured coffee—oatmilk latte, perfect—to his lips and took a sip, sighing in pleasure at the warm sweetness. He looked up to find Kinard staring at him intently. “What? Promise, I’m good.”

“If you’re sure,” Kinard said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Just out of curiosity, how much of a side-eye would Howie be giving that fact?”

Evan sat up a little straighter, taking another deliberate sip of his drink. “Why do you ask?” he asked carefully. Kinard nodded to himself, as though Evan had answered his question. In a way, perhaps he had. Evan sighed. “It’s…complicated,” he allowed, twisting the paper cup back and forth in his hands. “I don’t—I don’t want to talk about it.”

Unbidden, the hazy image of a snowy, moonlit field rose in his mind—the sigil lines laid out so carefully, the echo of an infants wails, the splash of blood on the snow, black under the moonlight.

Memories.

Memories that weren’t his, but were indelibly etched in his mind and heart.

Kinard watched him for a few tense heartbeats, and then gave a short, sharp nod. “Fair,” he said. “All I ask is that you be honest with me if it’s going to affect our chances of survival, okay?”

Evan looked up at that, startled by the vampire’s easy acceptance of what had to be a very suspicious statement. “Fair,” he agreed. He frowned down into his drink. “So, uh, so you really think this is gonna come down to more fights? Your friends aren’t going to be able to figure everything out before the high coven catches up with us?”

Kinard cocked an eyebrow. “Evan. I may be a vampire, but I haven’t lived this long by believing in fairy tales.” His look turned assessing, and Evan was struck with the uncomfortable feeling that Tom—Kinard was really seeing him, in a way not a lot of people in his life ever had. “I kind of get the feeling you haven’t, either.”

Evan didn’t know what to say to that. He covered his discomfort by standing up and moving to the kitchen, setting his latte down on the counter so he could grab the remaining sandwich from yesterday out of the fridge. He gave the paper wrapping more attention than it strictly needed, listening with half an ear as Kinard levered himself to his feet and joined him.

“Howie texted me a list of places that Greenway hung out at a lot, as well as his home address last night. If we’re going to bait the high coven into that snipe hunt, we should probably be seen snooping around some of those places. Would they have been able to tell you recovered that flash drive from the, ah, the sideways?”

Evan chuckled, shaking his head. “The between,” he said deliberately, “wouldn’t be a very good hiding place if it was easy to tell when someone had been fishing around in it. I doubt anyone would be able to tell I took something from Greenway’s.”

“Then we should probably start at Greenway’s apartment—it’s likely they’re already watching the place.”

“What about the vampires we ran into?” Evan asked, taking a bite of the sandwich. It wasn’t nearly as good after sitting all night in the fridge, the vegetables wilted and a little slimy with the vinegar and oil dressing, but he was too hungry to care.

Tommy—fuck, Kinard, what was wrong with him?—crossed his arms over his chest, drumming the fingers of one hand against his opposite bicep thoughtfully. “Depends on how good Greenway was at covering his tracks.”

Evan frowned in confusion. “You don’t think they were working for this Gerrard guy?”

“That’s the most logical thing,” Kinard said slowly, but he didn’t sound as though he believed it. When Evan said as much, Kinard smiled ruefully. “Gerrard’s better at coven politics than I’ll ever be,” he admitted. “But this kind of conspiracy bullshit isn’t really his style. If Gerrard’s gunning for you, he wants you to know it. And I still don’t see any scenario where he didn’t keep you for himself if he knew Greenway was sending you to that party.”

“Maybe Greenway was just double crossing him? Trying to get him in trouble with the SoCal high coven?”

“The high coven has definitely been trying to find grounds to drive Gerrard out of LA,” Kinard mused.

“What? Why?”

“You mean apart from the fact that our kinds have hated each other as long as anyone can remember?” Kinard asked sardonically, and Evan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, besides that.”

“Truce or no, witches don’t like having older vampires in their territory. The high coven doesn’t like me much, either. We’re harder to kill, we’re better at keeping discipline in our covens, and we attract more vampires to an area for the chance to join a powerful coven.”

“But you’re not the leader of your coven?”

Kinard shrugged, a faraway look entering his eyes. “I’ve never been interested in being anyone’s coven master. I still have standing in the local covens that my friends can benefit from—they either respect me too much or they’re too afraid of me to give my coven much shit. It works for us.”

Evan paused, setting the sandwich back down on the wrapper. He hadn’t realized Kinard held such a place of importance in his coven—although he probably should have. What, did he think a nearly thousand-year-old vampire would be low man on the pole? “Are you—are they gonna be able to help us any?”

Immediately, Kinard shook his head. “I don’t want them anywhere near this. Most of them are less than a century old—Sal and Alonzo could’ve handled that blond fucker in the office building yesterday just fine, but the rest? Especially with witch blood in the mix. Too dangerous.”

Evan swallowed hard. It was crazy, feeling anything like sympathy for a bunch of vampires. Hell, Kinard’s coven master had ordered him to kill Evan. But…they hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this any more than he had. And as much as he wanted to deny it, Kinard had proven to be a lot different than he’d been led to believe vampires were. Even knowing him for such a short time, Evan felt confident that Kinard wasn’t the same as Vincent Gerrard. Wasn’t the same as the vampires who had attacked them at Greenway’s office.

And Evan couldn’t see Tommy staying in a coven that was.

Kinard. Kin, God, all right, fuck it. Tommy.

His magic fairly sparkled in the back of his mind.

Tommy had a coven that obviously cared about him. That he cared about. Two days ago, Evan wouldn’t have really believed vampires were capable of caring about each other like that. Tommy had a coven. He described it as just a political alliance, but it was clear from the way he talked about them that Tommy considered his coven his family. Tommy had a coven.

Evan had no one. A familiar he had betrayed and humiliated. A sister he couldn’t contact without putting them both in terrible danger.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, not looking at Tommy.

“I don’t mind—not like our coven politics is a secret or anything. Alonzo won’t care what I tell you.”

Evan bit his lip. Nash’s familiar had sat next to him nearly the entire time Chimney was trying to open the files on Greenway’s flash drive. The familiar’s aura—not nearly as strong as Sally’s had been, nor even really as strong as Grant’s familiar’s was, but still so hauntingly known…like opening of a song he hadn’t heard played in forever but could still sing note for note—had pulsed against Evan’s magic, so much like the touch of Sally’s power and yet so completely different it hurt. Yet he hadn’t been able to bring himself to move away, to put distance between himself and the feeling of a coven bond. He hated the desperation that had swirled through him, the way he’d instantly craved any scrap of connection the familiar was willing to give him.

Evan had no coven. No family to go back to. No home. Evan…Evan had nothing more to lose, not really.

Tommy did.

“No,” Evan continued, still not daring to look the vampire in the eye. “No, I mean…all of it. You, uh, you can get out. You should. You should get out of this while you still can.” He finally took a peek at Tommy. The vampire looked as though he’d just been hit in the back of the head with a baseball bat. He was staring at Evan, his mouth slightly agape, a look of stunned surprise on his face.

“Evan—” he started, but Evan plunged on. While he still had the courage to do the right thing. Evan’s life was a mess, and had been from the moment he’d gotten a frantic, terrified call from his sister five years ago. And maybe Tommy’s life was just as complicated in it’s own way…but it didn’t have to be this complicated.

“No, listen,” he interrupted. “You said it yourself…you don’t want your coven anywhere near this. There’s no guarantee it doesn’t come back on them no matter what we do. And those vampires knew who you were! Next time, they’ll be ready for you. The high coven will have put a kill order out on you. Tom—Kinard, you don’t have to be involved in this. I’m the one they’re after.”

“Pretty sure my chance to back out of this ended with that fight in the office, kid,” Tommy said dismissively, and Evan shook his head in frustration.

“Just say I spelled you! You can pin all this on me! I can put a hex on you. Something minor, something you can break easy…your coven can lodge a complaint with the high coven and they’ll sense the magic still on you. You go in all pissed that I controlled you, give them some details, show you’re cooperating. As old as you are, they’ll believe I wasn’t able to hold a hex long term. They’ll be so focused on finding me, they should leave you guys alone. You can walk away.”

Tommy was still staring at him, a new light in his eyes that Evan wasn’t sure he wanted to identify. “Evan,” he said again, softly.

But whatever he was going to say next was interrupted when the alarm box by the front door suddenly went off with a piercing, insistent wail.

[angelitadiaz]

You were sitting under a tree when you saw a girl falling from the sky. She wore an all black cloak, a white blouse, black trousers, and brown boots. Her hair was messy and filled with leaves. You saw Beatriz and her gang going close to the girl, making fun of her look.

You quickly made your way over to her and introduced yourself. "Hello, I'm Y/N White, daughter of the White Queen. Who might you be?"

"Agatha."

She looked you up and down. Your hair was white under the sun, your skin a lovely shade of s/c, your dress a silver adorned with white roses. Then she looked at your nails, "black nails?"

You smiled gently at her, looking down at your nails. "They are my mothers favorite, and they remind me of her too."

"Now, Agatha, let me take you to Professor Dovey so she could help you with your schedule and hopefully get you a pair of clean clothes."

The fairies surrounded her but you scolded them to be nicer. Being the daughter of the White Queen earned you everyone's love except Beatriz.

Beatriz used to be your friend until she found out Tedros had a massive crush on you. In his eyes, you were gentle, beautiful, nurturing, and a princess who could take care of herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Professor Dovey, this is Agatha, Agatha. This is Professor Dovey. Professor Dovey, could we please get Agatha a dress, maybe a simple one?" You said while you took a look at her when you heard a voice.

"Y/N!" You quickly turned around and looked at Tedros, who quickly made his way towards you. He hugged you, then picked you up and spun you around. You smiled at him and gave him a peck on his nose.

"Hello, Tedros. I was looking for you in the morning but you weren't there for breakfast. Where were you?" You looked at him with concern as you brushed his hair with your fingers.

"Oh, I was, umm, I was doing archery, yeah. You know Gregory needed help. We don't want him to fail, do we?" He looked at you with passionate eyes but a guilty smile on his face.

"Oh, of course, Tedros, we wouldn't want anything bad to happen to him. I'll talk to you later. I have to go back to my friend." You hurriedly made your way to Agatha and Professor Dovey, who were making their way to the dorms.

"Agatha, you will be staying here with Y/N. She will make sure your stay at this school is wonderful and memorable. Now, Y/N, why don't you help Agatha get into a new dress and help her get ready for tomorrow."

"Of course, Professor Dovey. Come Agatha let me show you where the bath is and where the shampoo and conditioner is." You said as Professor Dovey left.

"Y/N, you do not think of me as a witch?"

"Of course not. Why would I think of you as a witch if you have not done anything wrong. Actually, my mother is quite fond of potions, as is her sister, the Queen of Hearts."

"Why is it that everyone seems to think of me as a witch?"

"They are not used to seeing someone with dark hair with dark clothing around here. It's normally nevers who are seen with that type of clothing, but trust me, it's refreshing to see a change once in a while. Now why don't you take a bath and I'll pick out a dress for you."

"Thank you, Y/N, for your kindness."

"That's what a friend is for." You gave her a sweet smile and quickly turned her around and pushed her into the bathroom.

"I'm your friend already?" Agatha told you amused.

"Well, you are in my room right now. Or should I say our room?" You giggled towards her.

As Agatha finally went to take a bath, you went to the closet and looked through many dresses. The one that caught your eye, though, was a pink dress with an a-line skirt that had embroidered flowers and leaves. You then pulled out a pair of chunky heeled white heels that only had an inch on them. You heard the bathroom door open and made your way to Agatha.

"Your bath is really nice."

"Haha, thank you, but it's the school's bath. Now, do you have undergarments on?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"So, I won't see your lady bits. Now come so I can fit you into this dress for this evenings presentation."

"Oh, I don't really like dresses. Especially pink ones."

"Well darling, you really don't have a choice. It's all I currently have other than pajama pants. Hang tight. This might hurt a little." You said as you pulled on the corset.

"A LITTLE!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"What is this presentation about Y/N?"

"It's the beginning of the year assembly, and where the ever boys present their bravery to us princesses."

"I am no princess."

"Nonsense, we are all princesses in our own way. Plus, any friend of mine is considered one in my book." You said as you gave her a gentle smile.

As Professor Dovey and Lady Lesso finally presented the ever boys, you couldn't help but stare sadly at Tedros. As they threw the roses at the ever ladies, you saw Tedro's land in Beatriz's lap. She smiled widely and quickly became smug about it.

Agatha quickly took notice and looked between you and Tedros in confusion.

"Isn't Tedros like your boyfriend?"

"Yes, he is. We've been together for a year now."

"Then why isn't his rose with you right now?"

"My dear Agatha, can I trust you?"

"Of course, you can tell me anything." You smiled at her answer.

"Tedros has been cheating on me with Beatriz."

"Wait... WHAT?" She screamed loudly, gaining everyone's attention. "How could have Tedros cheated on you of all people?"

Both Evers and Nevers were shocked to hear that the ever so loyal, brave, and kind Tedros Pendragon had been unfaithful to Y/N.

Tedros froze in his spot and quickly looked at you. You locked eyes with him and smiled sweetly in his direction. He began walking closer to you slowly but urgently. When you lifted your hand, signaling for him to stop. Your smile never fated as you mouth the words, "It's okay let me go."

You gracefully got up and walked away, followed by Agatha not far behind.

"Y/N!"

You heard from your ex lover. You stopped for a moment but then remembered that you deserve someone who wouldn't betray you. You heard Agatha's name being called. You knew it was her friend, so you let them be and continued your way to your room.

♥︎~End of Part 1~♥︎

~♥︎Part 2♥︎~

[thegildedbee]

Sherlock Fic Recs: Christmas Edition {2023}

❄️ Gather ~ ☃️ ☃️ ☃️ ~ 'round and 🎉 make 🎷merry🍹, all ye fic-loving fandom elves -- 'tis the season to shine a spotlight🕯️on Sherlockian Christmas fics!!! Here are some of my favorites -- I tried to pick ones that I haven't seen mentioned in recent lists that have been in my tumblr stream. Whether they're new to you, or just a reminder to re-visit faves, enjoy!!! ❄️ [In order of the year they were published.] ........................................................... 1. I'm Not His Date [2014] by objetpetita [ 17,029 words / T ] :: It all starts in a Boston coffee shop, where English professor Sherlock Holmes upends a visiting John Watson in a clever and fun "meet cute" (or "meet irritating-pompous-insufferable") in a whirlwind of Sherlockian proportions, and we're off to the races. There is a snowfight on the Common, Death Driving Miss Daisy: Lacan and Popular Culture, a Harry & Clara Christmas Eve wedding, witches, and a very boozy department party. It's as adorable as my favorite Christmas rom-com film, The Holiday. And it starts off with a corker of a first sentence: "It was morning, it was zero bloody degrees, everything around him was unfamiliar and American and cold, and John Watson was right on that inhuman precipice between still drunk and terribly hung over."

2. 5,687 (Approximately) [2015] by prettysailorsoldier [ 6,771 words / T ] :: Just a few years post-uni, Sherlock is enduring the agonies of a long-distance relationship with his boyfriend, who is on deployment in Afghanistan. During those times when John's on leave, the last people Sherlock wants to see are the idiots at the Met, so they've never caught sight of John and think he is a figment of Sherlock's imagination -- especially since he can't get home that Christmas. The set-up is sketched out with delightful fic flair, and the ending is not only sweet, but satisfyingly punitive [ c/o a very bamf John ]. The text messaging is some of my favorite writing in the Sherlock fandom -- their relationship in all of its multi-dimensionality comes through beautifully.

3. The 12 Truths of Christmas [2016] by @breath4soul [ 3,321 words / T ] :: This is a fic that has at its core the surfacing of unspoken emotional attraction betweenJohn and Sherlock via a very fun concept: “In place of some appalling or imbecilic gift inflicted upon me in the name of tradition on Christmas day, I propose that you provide me with one previously unknown fact about you for each day leading up to Christmas. 12 in total, John.” #9 has all the feels, and is a tour de force -- every time I re-read it it makes me break out in a smile, even though I know what's coming. Sherlock breaks out somewhat more: "Sherlock feels a flood of heat in several places at once. He stands up quickly and walks to his violin. He plays wild, erratic snaps of quick-paced music." The author has a whimsical and entirely understandable note to add: "You may fall in love with John reading this - I did." 4. The Romance Was There [2017] by @apliddell [ 4,011 words / G ] :: The author deserves an award for this being one of the best uses of Harry Watson in a fic, and of HW by Sherlock in a fic :-) 221B has never been cozier, Sherlock has never been more winsome, and John is a species type model of John in all of his clueless Johnness. The narrative dances along and sparkles and shines as seduction evolves, and Sherlock's rogueish charm is on full display. There's a poignant and endearing confessional letter, plus there's a Sherlock/Jeremy Brett reference that is absolute perfection in serving its role in helping the narrative quickstep the night away. 5. The Man in Aisle Ten [2020] by @blogstandbygo [ 1395 words / G ] :: Sherlock has several mysteries to unravel in the midst of Harrod's on Christmas Eve: what is the perfect gift for John? why is he having so much trouble identifying the perfect gift for John? and, incidentally, along the way to solving those, a local one. Luckily, Sherlock has Moira, master department store sleuth, to lead him to the solution. This fic is a small, perfect gift -- rather like the story's denouement --and is as witty as all of SBG's fics are. This is a veritable Peppermint Schnapps Hot Chocolate of a fic, warm, rich, sweet, delicious, tingly, and you'll find you reach the last bit much too fast, immediately requiring a refill. [ And there's a splendid podfic by @podfixx ! ]

..........................

*fic repost recruits, perhaps??? ❤️ @totallysilvergirl, @7-percent, @discordantwords, @helloliriels, @elwinglyre, @mydogwatson

[wheels-of-despair]

Fucking Fireworks Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore. Contains: Angst, panic attack, me torturing this sweet boy just so I can comfort him like the wicked witch I am. Word Count: 1.5k-ish

Fucking fireworks.

You've always hated them. They're loud, they're obnoxious, they're a waste of money. If you buy fireworks, you're basically just setting your money on fire for a few seconds of sparks.

In the past, you'd tolerated them because Eddie loved them. They were loud, they were obnoxious, they were free entertainment because they were everywhere.

Last Fourth of July, you'd brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons up to the roof and occasionally fed each other until the show began. Yeah, yeah, you two are so in love it's disgusting, you're aware.

Last New Year's Eve, you'd huddled with him under a blanket and kissed when his watch beeped at midnight, then laid your head on his shoulder and watched the fireworks from a distance.

But that was before.

Eddie doesn't like fireworks anymore.

He won't talk about it, but you see him flinch when a light bulb flickers or a barely-running car turns the corner while riding their squeaky brakes. He buries his face in your neck and squeezes his eyes shut during thunderstorms. He froze when some idiot kids set off a few firecrackers nearby on Halloween.

New Year's Eve was going to be a challenge. Trying to shield him from the fireworks without him knowing what you were doing was going to be a bigger one. You're familiar with the snap of "I'm not a fucking baby!" But he is. He's yours.

The snow worked in your favor. Too dangerous to get on a roof covered in snow, you could slip and break something. Too cold to go anywhere. You'd suggest staying home where it's warm and trying to sync Metallica's Ride the Lightning album with the countdown, so that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" would begin when the clock strikes 12. A genius idea that your sweet metalhead wouldn't be able to refuse.

He went for it.

You'd gone to Family Video and brought home a pile of his favorite movies to watch that evening, along with a case of beer, a bag full of snacks, and a pizza. At midnight, it would be just the two of you and the greatest album ever recorded. Loud. Very loud.

You'd timed everything almost perfectly.

The two of you had finished off an entire pizza and nearly half the snacks by the time the last movie ended at 11:27. You were scheduled to press play on Ride the Lightning at 11:48, so you even had a few minutes to clean up.

It was a great plan… until it wasn't.

At 11:43, while you were washing the last dirty dish, the power went out with a pop.

"Eds?"

Silence. He was on the couch a minute ago.

You fumbled blindly for the flashlight in the junk drawer, letting out a shaky sigh when your hand finally closed around it. You clicked the button and felt a flood of relief when it illuminated the kitchen. Pointing the flashlight at the floor, you made you way over to Eddie.

He was frozen in place on the couch, hands clutching at his sweatpants in a white-knuckle grip.

"Eddie? Are you okay?" you ask softly, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, careful not to shine the light in his eyes. He doesn't respond.

You envied the people in movies, who always made this look so easy. There's nothing easy about it. You feel helpless, because all you want to do is take care of him, and you don't know how. There's no guide book called How to Recover from Nearly Dying in an Alternate Dimension. Maybe you'd talk to Nancy about writing one next year.

Okay, what caused this? The dark. How do we fix it? More light. You suddenly remember a camping lantern that should be in the hall closet. "I'll be right back, Eds," you say with an eerily convincing calmness, considering the panic you felt inside. You lay the flashlight on the coffee table in front of him and angle it toward the hall.

Miraculously, the lantern is not only where it belongs, but it has batteries in it. This wondrous little contraption, received as a Christmas present last year and immediately banished to a cluttered closet, filled the small room with light. You brought it back to the couch, sitting in front of Eddie once more. "Eds?"

He blinked. Blinking is good. You slowly extend your right hand, palm up, toward him. He stares at it, and after a moment, releases a hand from the death grip on his pants and places it in yours. You exhale for the first time in what felt like hours.

"It's just your standard, run-of-the-mill, Hawkins-Sucks power outage, babe. It's okay. You're okay," you say with a smile you hope looks comforting. He's breathing normally, but his eyes are still stuck in a blank stare. Your thumb rubs circles on the back of his hand.

A few minutes pass, and you move a little closer, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his hand still in yours. You can see a little color coming back into his face, courtesy of the greatest Christmas present anyone has ever received. You can also feel the inside temperature beginning to drop from the lack of heat.

"Eddie? You with me?" You squeeze his hand, and his eyes finally meet yours. There he is. Your face breaks into a grateful smile.

"It's getting cold. What do you say we move this party to the bedroom?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows for effect. He gives you half a smile, and you feel warmth surge through your whole body. He's back. He's okay.

You hand him the flashlight and slowly rise with the lantern, still not letting go of his hand, and lead him toward the bedroom. You stop at the junk drawer again, shoving extra batteries into your pocket, just in case.

You're both in sweats already, so all you need to do is get him into bed and keep him occupied until the power comes back on. You reach for Eddie's flashlight before he crawls into bed. You switch it off, placing it on the bedside table near the still-lit lantern and spare batteries, and climb in to face him. The lantern fills the room with a comforting glow, the pile of blankets you're under is quickly warming up, you can handle this. You give him a reassuring smile and reach over to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear.

And then the fucking fireworks start.

His body tenses. His eyes widen. You are going to calm him down, and then you're going to go murder everyone who's doing this to him.

"Eddie. EDDIE. It's just fireworks. It's a new year. It's just people celebrating." He doesn't blink. He doesn't move.

What caused this? The noise. How do we fix it? Drown it out with more noise. Why can't we do that? Because the Hawkins power grid is a piece of shit. How else can we fix it? Think, idiot, think… if we can't drown it out with noise, maybe we can drown it out with silence.

"C'mere, baby." You roll from your side to your back and extend an arm, drawing him to you. You're a little surprised, but thankful, when he lets you guide his head to your chest. Your right arm wraps around his back, your left palm presses firmly to his ear to help drown out the sound. You hold him tight, because you don't know what else to do.

He seems to relax after a few minutes, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Your right hand begins moving up and down his back, and you press a kiss to the top of his head before resting your cheek against his fluffy locks. You'll stay in this position all night if you have to.

After what feels like an eternity, the crackles and hisses and pops begin to die down. You begin counting when you think you've heard the last of it, not daring to move until you get to 100. You have to restart the count four times before you're finally able to get there, hoping that whoever was supplying this endless exploding nightmare would blow a hand or a dick off. Finally, it's over.

You move your hand off his ear. Is he asleep? His breathing is steady and he hasn't moved in a while. A few seconds pass before his hand finds yours… and moves it back to his ear. You bite back a chuckle and squeeze him, kissing the top of his head again. He groans sleepily and nuzzles into your chest. He's still here. He's okay.

No thanks to those fucking fireworks.

[devilagent]

🕸️ ⎯⎯ BIOGRAPHY.

NAME. nicholas blair FACECLAIM. the one & only humbert astredo <3 ALIASES. nick, mr blair, blair, nicky (*not reccomended) GENDER. male AGE. early 40s ORIENTATION. bisexual BIRTHDAY. interpetation-dependent. april 4th OCCUPICATION. warlock CURRENT RESIDENCY. Blair House ('house by the sea')

BIOGRAPHY. nicholas blair is a warlock who works under a fictional devil (named diabolos). a creature of the damned, nicholas is implied in the show to be much older than be appears to be.

he always ends up scheming his way back to earth one way or another, hoping to someday break his masters grip on his soul and aquire power of his very own to gain independence.

he resides in a rented 3-story property near the shore of an ocean, the manor fittingly referred to as the blair house (or sometimes 'house by the sea' - not to be confused with seaview house).

the location has been (and continues to be) where he cooks up various ploys (which often become failures somehow or another).

in the series he is shown to have various collections of magic artifacts, presumably aquired from years of being on earth or by diabolos. he previously kept a lot of them locked in a cabinet to be out of reach for angelique/eve, in my current version of nicholas he now keeps most of these in his bedroom with his door locked.

additionally, he previously owned a magical mirror which was a signature tool he used, in my current version of nicholas he has since recreated it using a different mirror. c'mon we can't have nicholas blair without his silly mirror!

nicholas is usually seen wearing a grey suit, of various different shades. he doesn't often wear anything different, so it's his trademark look.

SECONDARY INTERPRETATION. paralleling the other biography, with the exception that nicholas was once a mortal man who sold his soul away during a moment of weakness. i'm still thinking up a backstory for this version of him :)c

+ i talk further about how i interpret nicholas here!

ABILITIES. hypnosis. spell-casting. conjuration. necromancy. mind-reading (leviathan arc only). ghost summoning. ghost banishment. inflicting curses. various magical item usage. WEAKNESSES. crosses harm him upon viewing them, he cannot look at them. fire is a known weakness to witches in the series so ill assume he is vulnerable as well. holy water presumably burns him. thunder/lightning makes him uneasy. POSITIVE TRAITS. charming. quick-witted. clever. polite. protective. thoughtful. caring. yearning. loving. NEGATIVE TRAITS. arrogant. petty. wrathful. egotistical. cruel at times. liar. stubborn. spiteful. AESTHETICS. eyes. black cats. candles. smoke. mirrors. obsidian. glitter. swans. vintage halloween. crystals. gloves. fire. hands. suits.

DARK SHADOWS AFFILIATES. @/diaboloserved (nicholas blair). @/widowshill (victoria winters/roger collins/elizabeth stoddard). @/langscreation (adam).

🕸️ FEEL FREE TO SEND PROMPTS / ASKS ANYTIME.

[tiredwitchplant]

Everything You Need to Know About Fruits and Veggies: Apples

Apple (Malus domestica)

*Poisonous *Medical *Culinary *Feminine

Folks Names: Fruits of the Gods, Fruit of the Underworld, Silver Branch, The Silver Bough, Tree of Love

Planet: Venus

Element: Water

Deities: Venus, Dionysus, Olwen, Apollo, Hera, Athena, Aphrodite, Diana, Zeus, Iduna

Abilities: Love, Healing, Garden Magic, Immortality, Spiritual Development, Opening the Door Between Realms, Manifestation, Abundance, Hexing

Why Poisonous?:The seeds within apples contain chemical compounds that cause cyanide poisoning. Mild symptoms include: anxiety, headaches, dizziness, and confusion, while acute poisoning can cause high blood pressure, paralysis, coma or death. Do not consume a large amount of apple seeds at once.

Characteristics: The tree is small and deciduous, reaching 3 to 12 m tall, with a broad twiggy crown. The blossoms are produced during the spring while the fruit itself is matured in the autumn. The flowers are white with pink tinge that fades over time.

History: Originated in Central Asia with its ancestor plant, Malus sieversii which is a wild apple native to southern Kazakhstan. In the bible, it was used a symbol of temptation as it was the fruit that tempted Adam and Eve to be thrown out of the Garden of Eden. It is also known as a symbol of immortality, health, vitality, love and fertility by many religions. In Wicca, you cut an apple through its core to reveal the five-pointed pentagram that represents the four natural elements plus Spirit. It has been written that witches would use apples to hex and poison their victims, while the tree itself is sacred to Druids. The druids believed it was one of only two tress that would support their beloved mistletoes. On the Twelfth Night tradition, Pagans would sing to the tree, hoisting cheerful mug of wassail to drive wassail demons and coax out an abundant harvest for the Earth. It is also said that unicorns love to dwell in apple orchards and love the taste of the fruit. Before eating an apple, one must rub it to remove demon or evil spirits that maybe hiding inside.

How to Grow An Apple Tree:

Easy to Grow? No

Rating: Moderate/Expert

Seeds Accessible: Yes

How to Grow an Apple Tree

Video Guide

Where to Buy Seeds

Magical Properties:

On August 13th, Diana’s Festival in Greece (Venus’ in Rome) was celebrated where a ritual meal was prepared with apples still hanging on their boughs.

Wiccan altars are piled high on Samhain for apple is considered the food of the dead

Their blossoms can be used for love spells, sachets, brew and incenses

Can be used for love divinations by cutting the apple into two and counting the number of seeds

Banish illness by rubbing the apple on you and burying it

Eating an apple can help you gain immortality through wisdom

The wood of the tree can be made into charms for longevity

Apple wood makes for excellent magical wands, especially for emotional magic

Rubbing an apple peel on your forehead can waken your third eye, allowing your intuition to develop

Eating an apple or drinking apple tea can fill you with trust and abundance

Medical Usage:

Apple blossoms and the fruit are full of fiber, vitamins A and C, and quercetin, an antioxidant believed to help prevent cancer

Placing crushed apple leaves on a wound can prevent infection

Can lower the chance of chronic conditions such as diabetes, heart disease and promote weight loss and brain health

May help reduce airway inflammation related to allergic asthma

Sources

[killerdancingqueen]

Good Omens timeline (as of season 2), from Before the Beginning until the end of season 2:

- “Before the Beginning” — Aziraphale and Crowley meet for the first time.

- 9:13 a.m, Sunday, October 21, 4004 B.C — The creation of the universe (according to God).

- 4004 B.C, "just after the Beginning" — Eve and Adam eat an apple, and then Crowley and Aziraphale have their first on-screen interaction.

- Somewhere between 3070 and 3030 B.C (when Nefertiti was alive), Egypt — Aziraphale presumably impresses Nerfertiti with his magic skills, “You're talking to the Angel who fooled Nefertiti with a lone caraway seed and three cowrie shells.”

- 3004 B.C, Mesopotamia — Aziraphale and Crowley witness the events of Noah's Ark.

- 2500 B.C, the Land of Uz — Aziraphale and Crowley help Job and his family (A Companion to Owls minisode).

- 33 A.D, Golgotha — Aziraphale and Crowley see Jesus’ crucifixion.

- 41 A.D, Rome — Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters.

- 537 A.D., Kingdom of West Essex — Aziraphale and Crowley are knights in King Arthur’s time, and Crowley first suggests “the Arrangement”.

- Sometime in the 1500s (likely between 1503 and 1506 if wikipedia is to be believed), Leonardo Da Vinci’s Studio, Italy — ‘In which Crowley gets drunk with Leonardo Da Vinci’ and buys a sketch of the Mona Lisa for fifteen florins (cut scene from the script book).

- 1601, the Globe Theatre, London — Aziraphale and Crowley meet Shakespeare (who steals a line from Crowley that he uses in Antony and Cleopatra). Crowley also performs a miracle to make Hamlet popular.

- 1650 — The first (known) time that Aziraphale does the apology dance for Crowley.

- 1656, Lancashire, England — the last true witch in England, Agnes Nutter, is burnt by Witchfinder Major Thou-Shalt-Not-Commit-Adultry Pulsifer, who is killed in the process by Agnes’ forward-thinking.

- 1760, Monsieur Rossignol’s Night Classess — Aziraphale learns french the hard way.

- 1793, Paris — Crowley saves Aziraphale from prison during the French Revolution's Reign of Terror (and then they get crepes, as well as Aziraphale doing the apology dance for Crowley).

- 1800, the opening of Aziraphale’s bookshop in Soho — Gabriel and Sandalphon visit Aziraphale to promote him back in heaven. Crowley overhears this, and tricks Gabriel into having Aziraphale stay on earth in order to “thwart him” (cut scene from the script book).

- Sometime before 10th November, 1827, but likely after 1800 — a conman attempts to seduce Aziraphale into helping her “brother” with his debt. Some-point after, Aziraphale tells Crowley of the story over a glass of claret.

- ~A month before 10th November, 1827, Edinburgh, Scotland — Crowley and Aziraphale visit a graveyard with a statue of Gabriel and end up helping a body-snatcher, Crowley also prevents her from committing suicide which results in him being sucked into hell “And that, was the last I was to see of Crowley. For quite some time.” (The Resurrectionists minisode).

- 1859, Aziraphale’s bookshop, Soho — ‘In which Aziraphale almost sells a book’ before receiving a note delivered by a street urchin from Crowley reading ‘the usual place - C’ (cut scene from the script book).

- 1862, St. James Park, London — Crowley requests holy water from Aziraphale for assurance in case anything goes wrong.

- Sometime between 1889 and 1919 (the years Hoffman is alive) but likely around 1876 (the year the book, Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring is published, that Aziraphale has a signed copy of), England — Aziraphale receives magic lessons from Angelo John Lewis, pseudonym Professor Hoffman, ‘“Aha! Professor Hoffmann's modern magic. Ah, there you are. To Mr. Fell, that's me, a wonderful student” (written) Yours, the Hoff’

- 1941, London — Aziraphale gives prophecy books to some nazis for Hitler, in an attempt to arrest them, only they double-cross him as well. Crowley then comes to Aziraphale's rescue and gives him a lift home, stopping at the West End theatre on the way back . However, the nazis come back as zombies for hell to expose Aziraphale and Crowley’s arrangement, but Aziraphale’s magic thwarts them (Nazi Zombie Flesh Eaters minisode). At some point later on, Aziraphale does the apology dance for Crowley.

- 1967, Soho, London —Crowley arranges a heist (after having gone clothes shopping that morning) to steal holy water from a church with Lance Corporal Shadwell and others. Aziraphale thinks it’s too dangerous, so he gets Crowley holy water himself.

- 1970s, London — Crowley changes the design of the M25 to represent the symbol Odegra, which comes back to bite him later on (as most things do).

- ~2008, “Eleven Years Ago" — Hastur and Ligur deliver the Antichrist to Crowley, who gives it to The Chattering Order of St. Beryl. The Antichrist is then swapped with Deirdre and Arthur Young’s child, while their child, Warlock, goes with Thaddeus and Harriet Dowling. Trying to prevent Armageddon, Aziraphale and Crowley agree to help raise Warlock, the boy they assume is the Antichrist.

- ~2013, “Five Years Later - Six Years Before the End of the World”  — Crowley disguises himself as Warlock's nanny, while Aziraphale disguises himself as the Dowlings' gardener.

- ~2019, “Six years later” — the chronological events of season 1 unfold, ending with Aziraphale and Crowley eating at the Ritz.

- Between 2019-2023 — Gabriel and Beelzebub routinely meet in the Resurrectionists pub, where they fall in love.

- ~2023 — the chronological events of season 2 unfold, ending with Aziraphale going up to Heaven and Crowley driving away from the bookshop to destinations unknown (his flat? out of london? out of the uk? out of the world?).

[pagan-stitches]

Another of my Halloween embroideries