#confessions of a teenage witch

[super-hero-confessions]

[degrassi-fandom-confessions]

I always thought holly j gives me sabrina thé teenage witch vibes (the og one)

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Only for you

Emo!Wanda Maximoff x FemReader

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Just the above, but I also added some reader backstory

Warning: Reader backstory including: physical pain, arguing, bullying, mental instability, manipulation, R being held against her will Present time storyline: mutual pining, Unestablished lesbian relationship, slight teasing by the team, jealousy, posessiveness, love confessions, fluff, Happy!Ending <3

Joining the Avengers was a challenge. It wasn’t the constant work outs and strict diet to keep you healthy and strong, it wasn’t even the danger or the threats to your life, even the annoying attempts of the media to follow you and snap pictures of you didn’t bother you that much. They all got buried by the government before they saw the light of day anyway. It was the people. Not that you weren’t grateful to them. They had saved your life after all. Gave you a purpose in life. But… The Avengers were a tough group to get to know and even tougher to live with sometimes. Of course, some preferred having their own homes, like Clint and his family, or the notorious Captain Marvel, that didn’t even live on Earth, and just as expected, those that did live in the tower had their own floors, rooms, offices, so you didn’t even meet them that much, but that just made it even harder to really connect. That’s why Steve insisted on team building activities, training together, even attending Tony’s stupid parties, all in the name of bonding. The man meant well and he really had a big heart, but he just couldn’t see that some of the Avengers had very little in common.

The thing is… You were born a witch. Not from a powerful clan, or with deeply rooted ancestry, and you probably would have stayed that way, had you not made a terrible mistake. Truly, you were just angry at the time. Barely a teenager, who thought she had all the answers. You were arguing with your mother about something, not that you could even remember what for. It was probably so stupid. But you both lost your temper, screaming at each other, until she had sent you to your room. She thought she was de-escalating the situation, giving you both time to calm down. What she didn’t know is that you had been through her collection of spell books and brought them all to your room. So when you slammed the door behind you, stupidly, unthinkingly, you grabbed the books. You weren’t sure what kind of spell you were hoping to find. Just something to make all the emotions inside you stop raging. But you found an absorption spell instead. In your head, you thought that if you just learned this spell and then performed it, you’ll search through the books much faster and then you’d able to do… What? God, you had no idea. Thinking back now, that was such a ridiculous thing to do. But you learned the spell, grabbed the candles you had in your drawer, surrounded yourself with all the books you had taken and just started the chant, hands touching the pages of the books and starting to feel their content seeping into your skin. It stung! That’s what you remember most. The feeling of that black ink seeping into your skin, as if splitting it open to make its way inside, clawing its way in your veins. It hurt so bad, but it wouldn’t stop. You had said the words, and now the spell was doing its work, emptying the pages of the books around you. You tried to pull your hands away, struggled to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. Every painful second felt like hours. The panic inside you was rising, watching the inky blotches making their way up your arms, crawling like black maggots under your skin, up your shoulders and neck… You were so scared, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you watched it happen, begging for it to finally stop.

But with the end of the spell, you found yourself facing a greater torment. You had taken too much, too fast for your brain to fully comprehend. All the words swirled in your head like a hurricane, making it impossible to distinguish your own thoughts. You tried to calm down, tried to put those racing thoughts in order, trying to meditate, just like your mother had thought you, but it was useless. It wouldn’t stop. In the end, it was your screams that attracted your mother to your room, panicked and scared, just as you were, trying to get you to tell her what you had done, but you couldn’t even put a sentence in order. Your brain was so scrambled, growing more incoherent by the second. Maybe that’s when you passed out? You couldn’t tell. You had very little recollections from that time. The next days were a blur. You don’t remember much. Just your room. Your mother told you that you were consumed by madness. Spewing lines from spells, incoherent and jumbled together. But sometimes you would get one right. She’d had to confine you to your room and bind you with runes, so you wouldn’t start casting without even knowing it. She told you it took you two weeks, before you started to come back to yourself. It was a miracle you even managed it. Some witches never recovered from such a thing. By the time you came back to your school, there were so many rumours about you, people whispering behind your back. You were changed. Thinner, more withdrawn, trying to keep to yourself. But kids were cruel and curious. They teased you, tried to get you to admit why you were missing from school all this time, attacking you, when you tried to ignore them. You should have known it was inevitable that you snapped and did something you’d regret.

It was just before summer break, you thought you had gotten through the worst of it, that you had your emotions under control, practicing every day, just so you could keep all the magic from spilling out. Many people didn’t know, but grimoires weren’t just books full of spells. Each spell, written within the pages was also a tiny bit of magic, leaving its imprint and taking root. You hadn’t just absorbed the knowledge, but the magic too. It was more than you’d ever felt, more than you knew how to control, so you practiced relentlessly. But when pushed, it bubbled to the surface. Fucking Madeleine Dupont, daughter of the Patric Dupont – owner of the biggest, most profitable manufacturing business in town, was obnoxious, spoiled, annoying and with a mean streak wider than her daddy’s newly acquired 23 acres of land for their grand mansion. The girl loved to pick on everyone, but recently, she had set her sights on you and in that fateful day, she and her friends cornered you into an empty classroom, taking drugs out of their pockets and trying to get you to take them. When “gentle” persuasion failed, one of them grabbed you, holding you by the hair and trying to force your face onto a desk, where they had spilled some powder. You didn’t even know what it is. But they started to overpower you, and the tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to tell them that you didn’t want this, that you needed them to stop, only added to their exhilaration.

They eventually pinned you down, laughing menacingly as they tried to get you to breathe it in and you lost control, pushing them back with your magic, a wave of energy blasting through the whole room, making desks and chairs fly to the ground, just like the girls had done. You tried to reign yourself in, to stop the emotions from taking over, but you were mumbling spells already. You remember just a blast. You remember waking up in a cell, body strapped to a small hospital bed, being pumped full of something. And the woman. She was your “handler” and on most days, the only person you saw or spoke with. She told you what happened. You’d killed those girls. Part of the building collapsed because of what you had done and the rubble crushed them. You must have protected yourself on instinct. Survived it somehow. They were giving you medication, making sure you heal properly. And then your training could begin. They were HYDRA. And they had a special interest in people like you. They made it clear that they weren’t just your supposed saviours, but also your captors. They weren’t going to just let you leave their facility. Instead, they aimed to train you. You were one of the lucky ones. You learned that after you were rescued from that HYDRA base. They never tortured you physically. Instead, they decided that they could break your mind, already weakened by what you’d done to yourself. They aimed to convert you. Half your training was spells and magic, endurance, strength… The other part… That was indoctrination. And they used everything they knew about you just to do it. When you refused to say the right things, they withheld food, when you refused to train, they withheld water… When that didn’t work, they would use threats. Your mother. They weren’t above hurting her to make you behave. They weren’t above killing her, if you didn’t do what you’re told.

You often held out hope that she was looking for you. That she’d find you and save you. But she didn’t have half as much power as you did. And you couldn’t escape them. What luck would she have? Eventually, your only hope of escape was to save yourself and after a few failed attempts, you formed a plan. You did as you were told, said what they needed to hear and you trained. You trained every waking moment, making sure your body and mind would be strong enough to take on all the magic you invited into yourself. That absorption spell? You used it more often, although, you limited the amount of information this time. It always hurt, the headaches after each use were monstrous. But it was all worth it. You were going to get yourself out of there one day. Even if you had to take down the whole base to do it. But it was the Avengers who took it down and helped you out of there. They reunited you with your mother, your family, and after some time, they also offered you a job. A calling. To help people. Those who weren’t as fortunate as you. Those in need. And you said yes. That’s how you ended up in the Avengers tower. Despite the people, it was a lonely place. Few understood what you had been though, fewer still cared for what it had done to you. But you couldn’t blame them. They all had their own lives, their own problems to deal with, their own personal pain to wallow in. Natasha understood. She knew what being a prisoner was like, what it felt like to be forced to do things just to survive. Steve empathised. His big heart and his puppy dog eyes were unbelievably charming and he won you over easily. Clint brought normalcy to everyone’s lives. But most of the others were hard to relate to. Tony meant well, but he had a big mouth and he loved putting his foot in it. Bruce was always in his lab. Vision was kind, but he was also marked by the characteristics of his origin and hard to make a connection with. Thor… Where do you even start with Thor? But there was also Wanda.

She had joined before you, her story similar to yours, yet so different, marked by loss and heartache. She was a kindred spirit and easily a friend. She was a little older than you, her eyeliner thick, her black nail polish often chipped, her hair in a tight ponytail as she walked around the compound and she always smiled when she saw you. As the months passed, the two of you were inseparable, spending every waking moment together. You were one of the two people who wasn’t scared that she’d read your mind, who trusted her good intentions and good heart completely. The other was Vision. They had a bond, an understanding that you didn’t know how to share in. But you were happy that she had him in her corner, because the other Avengers always looked at her suspiciously, or avoided her and you never knew why. Wanda was a sweetheart. Her favorite way to watch sitcoms was with her cuddled up into your side, your fingers playing with her silky hair, that she always let down, when it was just the two of you in the room. And sure, she was a little emo, but you found that adorable. Her smile would only widen, when you’d use one of your many pet names for her and she would blush, when you complimented her cooking. And you used those all the time, because, the thing is, you were in love with her. You were desperately in love with Wanda Maximoff and you were ready to do just about anything to have her smile at you or shower you with her affection. Something she did practically all the time anyway. If the woman wasn’t also fiercely protective and an extremely powerful witch, you’d say she’s a puppy. But none of the others ever agreed, when you said so. They would cower, when she stepped into the room, avoid her eyes, when they needed to speak to her, they would step out of training rooms, when she walked in. You found it baffling. And somehow the treatment extended to you as well. The closer you got to her, the more they kept their distance.

Gone were the days when they would tease you playfully, when they would give you pointers on your techniques, when they would approach you for small gatherings that didn’t involve the whole team and you never knew why. Until today. You walked in the common room, only to find most of the team already there and you greeted them, before you made your way to the adjacent kitchen, listening to their banter as you made breakfast for yourself and Wanda. It was the dynamic you were used to and you were ready to join them, holding the bowls of food in your hands, when you noticed that the noise suddenly died down, replaced by tense silence. “Wanda.” Natasha greeted with a nod. “Natasha.” The younger woman acknowledged, stepping further into the room and scanning it for something. Not that she ever told them what she needs. She looked pissed. Her aura was dark and almost menacing, her shoulders squared, like she was ready for a fight, making everyone on edge and you couldn’t figure out why. “Hi, sweetheart!” You decide to finally greet her, showing yourself from behind the wall you had been standing, while you observed all this. “Sweetheart?” Tony lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile creeping up his lips. Wanda only threw him a glare, but she accepted your hug happily, taking you into her arms and when you pulled away, she only let you turn into her hold, facing the group, while her hands stayed firmly around you. “Let’s go have breakfast in my room.” She suggested in your ear, ready to practically drag you out of there. “Why not join all of us for breakfast?” Steve raised his voice, gesturing to the big table he was already sitting at. “That’d be nice.” You nodded, before Wanda had any chance to refuse. “Come on, Wands, I already fixed you a bowl.” You told her. “Yes, Wands, we haven’t seen you in ages.” Tony agrees, emphasising the nickname you had used.

Feeling like she didn’t have much of a choice, Wanda agreed, sitting next to you and pulling your chair practically into her side, so she’d have you as close to her as she could, while she ate quietly. But the team felt like they had stumbled onto something. They had felt the shift in mood within her, as soon as she saw you and they weren’t going to let it go so easily. At first they tried their playful banter on her, asking her about her day, about her interests, about her training, just anything to see a reaction, but none actually came. It was only when you spoke that she would light up. She would smile, when she listened to you, when she forgot that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. But it was the little blush that showed on her cheeks, when you called her “darling” that first sparked an idea within them. “Hey, Y/N, I hear you tried your hand against Cap here.” Bucky stared off, attracting your attention. “Tried being the key word. Hand to hand I don’t stand a chance, but with a little magic…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Who knows…” “Yeah?” His smile widens. “Well, if you’re looking for a challenge, join me for a spar this afternoon.” He invited. “She’s training with me this afternoon.” Wanda practically growled, looking up from her bowl for just a second, to stare down Bucky. Her glare was murderous. “That’s too bad, I was hoping for a little magic.” The man said, obviously bating Wanda. “Then perhaps you should train with me. I have magic.” Wanda snarled, summoning a ball of energy between her fingers for a moment, just to get her point across and luckily, the man was smart enough to back off. “Well, if you’re busy training, perhaps I can finally take dear Y/N to get a proper costume. The two of you can’t keep borrowing my leather jackets and pretend that it’s a real suit.” Natasha interjected. “What do you say dear?” She asked, her voice dropping an octave. “I already have some ideas in mind. You can try them on for me.” She suggested, noting the way Wanda’s knuckles turned white around her spoon. “And I’m sure Tony can make some improvements.” “Oh yeah.” The man chimed in, happy to take his own turn teasing Wanda. “I’ll have to get your measurements of course. To make sure it fits perfectly.” He says casually, but the idea of it makes Wanda’s blood boil. “She’s busy today.” Wanda retorts, before you even get a chance to open your mouth and you find yourself surprised to see her so tense. “Tomorrow perhaps.” Tony shrugs, taking on Wanda’s glare. “I’ll make time for her.” He adds. “She’s mine.” Wanda snaps, raising from her seat and balling her fists. “What was that?” Tony pretends not to hear her, smirking at the pissed off witch. “I said, she’s mine.” Wanda grits out, turning to you, ready to drag you out of the room.

It’s then that she realizes what she had said. That you were right there next to her, looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness. The thing is, Wanda was desperately in love with you too. She was also, as the team quickly started to realize, extremely possessive, and she wasn’t going to watch every man and woman in the room flirt with you. The only problem was that she hadn’t told you all that. Scared to ruin your friendship and loose you for good, she opted for hiding her feelings, which only intensified her jealousy. She hadn’t staked her claim on you and it made her scared that someone else might. So every time you weren’t with her, she’d be on edge, lurking in corners, sending people glares whenever they spoke to you, hoping to keep them away until she could finally tell you how she felt. Such behaviour had earned her a reputation in the Tower as grumpy, and since everyone knew how dangerous she could be, they tried to stay away. Now, however, cornered and taken by surprise, she had let it slip. And you were right next to her, so it was impossible that you didn’t hear her earlier words. “Y/N…” She stutters, taken aback. “I didn’t mean… I…” She stumbled over her words. And the audience didn’t help in the slightest. She felt crowded. Tony’s smug smirk seemed to taunt her, Bucky and Steave sharing a knowing giggle between them, Natasha, who somehow looked unphased and simply amused at the whole scene, it was all overwhelming. And then, there was you. Shocked at what you’d heard and looking at her in disbelief. God, she needed to get out of there… Before she had a chance to say much else, before she could think it all through, she stormed out. She didn’t even know how she ended up in the hallway, her legs carrying her on their own, when she heard your voice. “Wanda!” You were calling out her name, jogging slightly to catch up to her. “Wanda, please wait!” You called out again, seemingly not for the first time. “Please, we should talk about this.” You said, watching her stop, so she could wait for you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I had to get out of there.” She tried to say, her voice shaking a little with all the emotions that were raging inside her. “It’s ok. I understand.” You nodded, taking her hand, so you could help her feel more grounded.

The small touch between you, just the feeling of your hand in hers felt electrifying and she easily took the other one as well, pulling you close, until she could have you in her arms, securing you in a tight embrace and making you look up at her. “You don’t understand.” She said, hands shaking. “I’m so in love with you. I have been for months now. And I was so scared to tell you, so scared of loosing you, that I just…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “And the way they were talking to you, the way they all looked at you… I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. I want you to be mine. I want you all to myself. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms, I want to spend every day showing you that I love you. I want… You!” She confessed, her arms tightening around you, as if you’d escape her grasp somehow. “Oh, Wanda…” You whispered, a gentle smile farming on your lips as you watched her eyes sparkle. “I’ve been in love with you too. And I didn’t know how to tell you…” You said, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The moment felt heavy, thick with emotions as you both stood frozen in time, eyes glued to the other, when suddenly a voice, startled you both. “Maximoff, kiss the girl already!” Tony said smugly, followed by cheers from the people around him. Were they watching you on the hallway cameras this whole time? Not that you had time to think about that, when Wanda was leaning closer, her eyes flashing red, before she shortened the distance between you both, until she was only a breath away. Her features were so different now, she was smiling as she held you, biting her lips, eyes full of adoration and longing.

When she finally placed her lips on yours, a gentle caress at first, it felt like you were in heaven. You had wished for this moment for so long, imagined it every night, before you fell asleep, dreamt of it and longed for it and it was finally happening and you just couldn’t get enough. When she felt your eager lips on hers, Wanda didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out, asking for permission to taste you further and mingling with yours, once you allowed her access. It was only when she pushed you against the nearest wall, trapping your body with hers, that you finally paused. “We’re giving everyone a show.” You reminded her, head pointing to the camera in the corner. “Never.” Wanda smirked, her magic flashing once more, to show you that she had disabled the feed, before you even kissed. “Only I’m allowed to see you like this. I would never share you with anyone else.” She said with a note of possessiveness that you were growing to love, the more you saw it. She kissed you again. And then again, greedy hands squeezing your hips. She could never get enough of you. She felt drunk on you and only reluctantly pulled away when you both needed to breathe. “We should get back.” You said reluctantly. “Let’s go to my room instead. We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you all to myself.” She suggested. “I don’t want to share you.” “Wait… Is that why everyone thinks you’re so grumpy?” You suddenly realized, remembering countless times, when Wanda has wanted your undivided attention, skipping events and avoiding people. She didn’t say anything, but at this point you didn’t need her to. “We should show them how wrong they are. You’re amazing and warm and loving and sweet and I want everyone to know that.” You told her honestly. “But we’ll go to my room after?” She held you firmly, refusing to let you go just yet. “Yes, we’ll go to your room after.” You nodded happily. “I’ll even let you pick what we’re watching.” You added teasingly. Wanda smiled, pulling away just enough to let you straighten yourself and she held your hand, letting you guide her back to the common room, watching your hips sway seductively. It was sweet, she thought, that you believed she’d be wasting her time with sitcoms, when she could finally have you the way she’s wanted you for so long… _______________________________________________________ Hi, dear anon. I hope that you are happy with the story you got for your request! <3

[lovebugism]

punchy x steve with "Why aren't we making out yet? We're 5 minutes into an argument, 5 minutes! Goodness."

thank u for requesting! :D — steve gets angry with you sometimes, but he'll never turn down an opportunity to kiss you (punchy/steve universe, angst-ish, mostly fluff, 0.8k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

He’s so cute.

Yeah, he’s mad at you and everything, but you can’t get over how adorable he looks.

His scruffy jaw is clenched tight, and there’s a subtle furrow between his bushy brows, and his pink lips are gently pouted. His honey eyes are twinkling too — with anger, maybe, but they’re twinkling at you nonetheless.

With his sweatshirt pushed up to his elbows and his hands on his hips, how are you supposed to do anything but melt for him?

“Okay, Steve,” you huff, interjecting his longwinded rant. You cross your arms over your chest and sink further into the couch while he paces ahead of you. “I know you’re pissed at me, but—”

“Oh, that doesn’t even start to describe it,” he scoffs. His laugh verges on bitter.

“I know that.”

“I mean— I have no words.”

“Is that why you haven’t stopped bitching at me since we got home?”

He stops his pacing to gape at you. “Bitching at you?” he repeats with an incredulous gape on his pretty face. “Seriously? That’s what you think this is?”

You sigh at yourself and drop your head to the back of the couch. You don’t know how to stop saying the wrong thing. You just want him to be upset with you and be done with it, ‘cause if he doesn’t kiss you stupid soon, you’re scared you might die.

“I didn’t do anything wrong— I don’t know what you want from me!”

His brows pinch together. His pretty face swirls with hurt. 

You shrink under the suffocating weight of his obvious heartache. 

“This stuff is really important to me, babe,” Steve tells you softly, voice light and nearly breaking. “And it’s like you’re just shitting all over it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t wanna spend my Friday night with everyone who bullied me in high school.”

“Oh, don’t play that card,” he scoffs bitterly. 

You feel the weight of his words in your chest. Like he’s taken your heart between his fingers and squeezed all the life out of it. You try not to let it hurt you. His insensitivity isn’t your fault. 

“This isn’t about them, alright? It’s a big deal for me, but you’re deciding your pride is more important.”

You huff like a dramatic teenager.

Steve laughs in response, but there’s little emotion behind it. “What? Am I annoying you now?”

“Can you just kiss me?” you blurt before you mean to.

He falters. Your plea comes out of left field, makes him forget to be angry at you for a blink of a second. “...What?”

“You can keep yelling at me after, I promise. I just wanna kiss,” you confess, features soft and squishy around the edges — filled with adoration. Your eyes sparkle when they blink up at him, with the hope that he might give in and give you the loving you need.

Steve still wants to be mad at you. He’s too stubborn for anything else. You make it real hard, but he tries to be proud about it anyway. “Why?” he presses and crosses two golden arms over his chest.

“‘Cause we’ve been arguing for five whole minutes, and we aren’t making it out yet,” you answer, voice as soft and sheepish as a child’s. You pick at the fuzz of your sweater and try hard to meet his gaze. “I think it’s gotta be some kinda record at this point.”

Steve doesn’t know how to do anything but be obsessed with you. From the arches of your eyelids, to the base of your neck, to the pudge of your tummy, to the chipped polish on your toes. Your beauty bewitches him. Surely, you must be some kind of witch.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”

You beam up at him, smiling so hard that it makes it hard to kiss him back. He leans down and props his weight on two hands along the back of the couch, one on either side of you. You tilt your head back in wait for his mouth. 

Steve gives you one fleeting peck — a subtle smacking of his lips to yours that he plans to tease you with after. He’ll pull back, and you’ll pout about it. “One more, Stevie, pleaseee?” you’ll drag out in that pretty voice of yours. And he’ll give you one, but only after hearing you beg a little bit more.

He ends up being the needier one, which maybe shouldn’t surprise him. One peck quickly turns into another. Then a third, lingering and languid thing after he hopelessly melts into you.

You’re the one that ultimately pulls back, lips shining and obviously well-kissed. His knees shake when you smile at him. “Okay. You can go back to being mad at me now.”

Steve shakes his head immediately. 

His tongue darts out to swipe along his rosy bottom lip. His eyes dart from your glimmering gaze to your rose-petaled mouth. “I can be mad at you later,” he insists, the warm breath of his softly spoken words brushing your chin. “Now, I just wanna kiss the life outta you.”

[i314flix]

— PART ONE, PART TWO.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 3k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!

Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.

As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.

They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.

When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.

But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.

“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”

“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”

You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”

“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”

He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”

“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”

“Wow. I never knew.”

“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”

You both laughed.

You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.

Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.

So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.

“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.

Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”

“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”

“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”

“You didn’t?”

“Not one bit.”

“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.

“Hm?”

“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.

“Oh, I really don’t.”

“Sirius…”

“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.

There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.

“It was nice.” You told him finally.

“Just nice?”

“Wonderful,” you corrected.

He nodded solemnly, waiting.

“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”

He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”

He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”

Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.

For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.

You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.

Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.

Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.

The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.

You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.

You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.

“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.

It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.

“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”

“I do.”

“Which means you really have to go to bed.”

“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”

“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”

“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”

“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”

“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”

You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”

“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”

“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”

Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”

“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.

“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”

“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”

In your silence, he got the answer he needed.

“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”

“Sometimes they have a point, though.”

“Such as?”

“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”

He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”

“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”

 “Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”

You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”

“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”

“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”

“What?”

“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”

“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”

Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.

So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.

Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.

“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”

He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”

You both laughed at his statement.

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.

“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”

“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”

Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”

“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”

Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.

“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.

You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.

He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“But—”

“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”

“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.

You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”

He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”

“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”

“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”

He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.”

“Sirius.”

“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.

You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.

Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.

For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[prefer-to-be-vilified]

Hi! What are your favorite Wenclair fics?👀

I’m so glad you asked and I’m about to be so extra.

This fandom is beyond talented and I have many favourites. So I might as well make this an official Prefer-to-be-vilified Wenclair Fic Rec Masterlist… post (name could use some work but you get the idea).

I’m going to try to remember/link all my favourites but I’ll probably (definitely) forget some. And also I obviously haven’t read every Wenclair fic out there, my ‘to-read’ list is intimidatingly long and personal preferences are going to play a part in the fics I have included. But if I’ve missed some hidden gems please let me know!

Under the cut because this got long…

One-Shots/Short Chapter Fics:

the Witch & the Wyld by ohHOLYmoves - Long one-shot, Wednesday’s a witch who lives in the woods, Enid’s a werewolf stuck in her wolf form, need I say more?

Reset by Eggplant_Crusader - The OG. Probably the first fic read by a good portion of this fandom. Short, sweet, what the miscommunication trope is supposed to be.

her heart is a bird on a spit in her chest by lensbian_dykely - Long one-shot, Wednesday tells her parents that her and Enid are together without informing Enid.

What does he have that I don’t? by kofeew_milkk - Jealous Enid meets Werewolf instincts.

hello there, it’s me, the bull in the china shop by bogteats - Established Wenclair, 5+1 fic leading up to their first time.

I Think I Love You by tawen - Enid gets dosed with truth serum, Enid’s in love with Wednesday…

I Can Hear Your Heartbeat by LesbihonestGuys - Wednesday is a simp coming to terms with being in love and she’s real mad about it.

sandbox love by hanjisgirlfriend - Childhood friends falling in love.

gifts from a cat by Rennajade - Wednesday being a weirdo.

She’s my mate, Yoko! by lovely_shadow_minx - Enid realises Wednesday’s her mate and freaks out about it.

i tend to handle things usually by myself and i can’t ever seem to try and ask for help by Charlie_Balle - Wednesday’s actually allergic to colour.

The Art of Courting by Athems - Wednesday tries to court Enid but Enid thinks she’s threatening her.

Please (Just This Once) by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday trying to prevent a vision and the very emotional aftermath.

Wednesday Finds a Puppy by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday finds a random puppy in the woods and thinks it’s Enid… it’s not Enid.

Are You Going To Claim Your Prize? by wintersdume - The furs make a bet over who can get Wednesday’s number, Enid gets jealous.

It’s the Uniform, Isn’t it? by wintersdume - Enid plays baseballs, Wednesday gay panics.

Mobile Etiquette by Axinite25 - Wednesday not understanding the nuisances of teenage dating/friendship.

fuel the pyre of your enemies by heliamphoria - Wenclair meet cute while committing crimes.

Scrapped Scenes by MomochiZoey - Enid’s nosy and discovers that Wednesday’s self insert Viper now has a blonde love interest.

Premonition’s Embrace by whitebeltwriter - Wednesday has a vision that forces her to admit her feelings for Enid.

if she grabs for your hand (she might want a kiss) by ipretendtobesane - Short love confession, adorable.

Stormy Weather by SspiltDecision - Wednesday’s scared of thunder, Enid helps her.

don’t talk to me or my scary goth gf ever again by Kybee1497 - Protective (slightly feral) Enid and Xavier not taking a hint.

Complete Long Fics:

Terms of Endearment by Calchexxis - AU future fic/they didn’t meet at Nevermore, Enid goes to the Addams family for help after being kicked out of her pack for not being able to wolf-out but Wednesday’s the only one home, Wednesday has visions every time they touch about different versions of them/their ancestors throughout history, SIMPING, the worlds gayest mystery, I’ve read it several times and it always hits.

Forged in Blood by RiseAboveTheAshes_203 - Post season 1, I don’t know how to describe it other than angsty devotion, if for some insane reason you haven’t read this fic do it now.

The San Francisco Incident by Apeoflight - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Omegaverse, Werewolf mates, falling in love, real smutty, what’s not to love?

the nature of idiosyncrasies by bogteats - One of the fics I managed to catch early on and I was OBSESSED, AU, future fic, they weren’t friends at Nevermore but Enid had a crush, Omegaverse, their dynamic in this is to die for, angsty, smutty, a real and honest portrayal of not only Wenclair but people and love in general, read it, that was a threat, if you already have read it again.

raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_Lazuli - Canon divergence, fake dating to annoy Esther Sinclair, full honesty I read this awhile ago so I’m not 100% certain what happens but I remember enjoying it, might need to do a re-read.

black marked sun by chasinghours - AU college/university, Wednesday’s Yoko and Bianca’s roommate and Enid becomes infatuated, very cute, a little angsty but nothing crazy, shy Wednesday??? if I remember correctly, gay pining, we love to see it.

Purgatory Would Be Beautiful With You by EmilyWritesStuff - In universe, WEREWOLF MATES (aka the best Wenclair trope), fun and easy read, each chapter is like a slice of their life as mates.

Dance With Wolves by wolfwars - Fake dating BUT Wednesday doesn’t realise that it’s fake (because Enid was vague af), Enid’s pining, Wednesday’s confused, great idea and really well executed.

You Are my Moon by Bee-nut - Fake dating except Wednesday commits to the bit so hard she ends up facing off against Enid’s family aka a pack of werewolves in various dangerous challenges in order to win Enid’s hand, great idea, loved every minute of it.

Old Wounds by Sharpen_your_hatchet - Wenclair reunite years after graduation, less falling in love more realising they were always in love and coming to terms with that, sweet and easy read.

So This Is Love by LoriLoud - Unhinged Murderous Wenclair… no further explanation needed.

La Petite Mort by Apeoflight AND Wednesday’s Pet by Apeoflight - Smut, they’re both smut fics, I cannot remember which was which plot wise, but same author, they’re both really good and with a good helping of falling in love, yearning, denial of feelings, miscommunication, angst… all the good stuff.

Vortex by ALotOfConfusion - Need a refresher but childhood friends to lovers, little Wednesday wants to study werewolves and I remember enjoying it.

Puppy Love by Vaniloqu3nce - Enid’s wolf starts talking to her after recognising Wednesday as their mate, havoc follows, great read.

yours, eurydice by hanjisgirlfriend - AU, future fic, they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s a writer, Enid’s an actress, they live across the hall from each other, they write each other love letters and fall in love, cute af, a little angsty but not too heavy, definitely a must read.

It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you by SquishiestRose - Coffee shop AU, Wednesday works at the Weathervane and she has it BAD, the platonic Wyler this world needs, a little angsty but nothing crazy, cute, fun read.

Spell It Out by forgot_my_art - A spell gone wrong leads to both a misunderstanding and an accidental proposal… I mean it’s Wenclair, of course it did, fun read.

A raven’s dream of wolf by tokyocorgi - AU future fic/they never met at Nevermore, Wednesday’s sex dreams are also prophecy’s of her future, we love to see it.

All That’s Best of Dark and Bright by Porcie - Wednesday runs from her feelings post season 1, they reunite years later, Wednesday has a vision that forces her to stay in Enid’s life and by extension forces her to confront her feelings, they’re in love the entire time while pretending they aren’t, almost soulmate-ish, a bit angsty, but a fun read.

On-Going Long Fics:

[friendly reminder to read in-progress fic as a way to encourage and support our talented writers]

I’d Eat the Sun Just to Feel Your Warmth in my Bones by MsMio - AU college/university, I still need to catch up but ANGST, childhood friends, a very interesting take on the Addams family curse, Wednesday suffers from chronic pain, a good sad read but a hopeful one.

our immeasurable ties that bind by bogteats - Fantasy type AU, some very interesting world building, Enid wakes up pregnant with no idea who she is, where she is, or how she got there, super excited to see where this goes.

Blood and Shadows by DarkVisitors - Historical AU, western vibes, angst, horny gay yearning, a vague line in the summary that alludes to them being forced to marry at gun point but it hasn’t happened yet, I am beyond invested.

A Kidnapping By Any Other Name by RavenMoon33 - Wednesday “kidnaps” Enid to spend the break with her at the Addams Estate, I’m still catching up but Wenclair antics meets Addams Family antics, Wednesday’s having visions, there’s a mystery afoot and it’s linked to Wednesday’s ancestors. I might try to squeeze in another chapter later today actually 👀 (I didn’t read the OG so no spoilers!)

Whatever This Is… by CautiouslyPessimistic - A NEW FAKE DATING AU! In universe, takes place at Nevermore, only 2 chapters so far, but well written and I’m excited to see more.

Well… That’s Knew by Chaos_of_the_valkyries - Post season 1, Enid presents as a werewolf alpha and your honour they’re mates, protective Enid, Wednesday going soft, apparently I’ve missed the last two updates??? A crime, I will be rectifying that asap.

The Bite that Binds, the Gift that Gives by TieDyeKing - Historical Fantasy-ish AU, Wenclair arranged marriage, immediate connection but they’re being cautious/don’t trust each other, beautiful imagery/world building, an intriguing plot, Esther Sinclair being Esther Sinclair (aka causing problems), only a few chapters but one of my favourites since forever ago, in love with this fic and you should be too.

Symbiotic Relationship by SquishiestRose - AU future fic/they don’t meet at Nevermore, Enid gets kicked out of her pack and ends up desperate enough that she accepts a job working as the live in servant of a woman she’s pretty sure is going to kill her (hint: it’s just Wednesday being her normal off putting self), I’m a sucker for future fics with a very isolated and lonely Wednesday learning to fall in love and this is that.

[randomshyperson]

Another Love II - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Being late doesn’t always mean you lost your chance. Wanda might not be yours now, but if there’s something an Eternal can do is wait. | Chapter Summary: Finally, the wait is over.

Warnings: (+16) unrequired love, hints of mutual (?) pining; mild angst with happy ending, friends/team partners, canon divergence, fluff, some tension, language.  | Words: 5.051k

Part One || General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Wanda has only been to London on business before, both for the Avengers and the Coven. It's refreshing in a way, just being a tourist, even if only for the short train ride to the National History Museum.

It was Sersei who revealed to her where you were working. For some reason, and to annoy Wanda's nerves, you were much more distant lately both physically and emotionally than she would have liked. 

The place was crowded and perhaps Wanda used a little magic to avoid being recognized by any of the Avengers' fanbase, making her way unhurriedly to the reception desk. 

She could trace your aura easily but was cordial in introducing herself and following the instructions of where your class was taking place.

Through glass windows, she saw you for the first time in months, and couldn't help a soft sigh escape her lips. With her hands held in her coat pockets in an attempt to have some sort of ground, she approached through the open door at the back of the room.

Your monologue about Mesopotamian constructions was lost in mid-sentence as soon as your eyes met hers. Wanda smiles shyly, and you stand there, adorably surprised.

The teenagers present in the class soon assumed curious expressions at the interruption of your speech, and it was one of the boys in the back who looked between you and Wanda before loudly teasing, "Damn, Professor just got tongue-tied because of the Scarlet Witch!" 

The room exploded into giggles, and you blushed awkwardly, eventually chuckling too as you waved for them to calm down. Wanda smiles coyly at the scene, waiting for you to approach her.

"Thank you for this, Mr.Matthews." You say to the student, nodding to the board. "Finish reviewing the chapter, please. I'll be back in five minutes, no fuss, don't you all forget you're in a Museum." 

You walked over to Wanda, and she tried not to show how she trembled at the gentle touch on her elbow to guide her to the coffee table area, but she didn't do such a good job when you were finally alone outside and you hugged her in greeting.

"It's good to see you, darling." You said, pulling away to hold her shoulders for a moment. Your gentle and tender smile and eyes made her feel warm. "I didn't know you were coming to see me. Nothing wrong happened, I hope?" You asked frowning in concern, but Wanda quickly denied it, offering you a reassuring smile.

"No, I just... I wanted to talk to you. And see you." She confesses with a weak laugh. "Can we go out for coffee after your class?"

"Of course, Wanda. It will be over in a few minutes, you can enjoy the exhibition in the meantime." You say, biting your lip when it looks like you're going to say something else. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding, and you take a chance. "You look breathtaking, sweetheart."

She can feel her face heat up, but she handles smiling in appreciation. "You don't look bad yourself, Professor." She teases with a wink, managing to make you chuckle awkwardly. 

You touch her again, squeezing her arm in farewell before heading back to the classroom, and Wanda thinks she replays the feeling in her head the whole way back to the exhibit.

She is facing an exhibit of Ancient Greece when she senses your presence behind her.

"How many of these artists have you met in person?" She asks interested, and you let out a small laugh.

"Not as many as I would like I'm afraid." You reply with a slight nostalgic sigh. "But I did meet Σαπφώ (Sapphō). She was a rather passionate lover." 

Wanda snorts incredulously, patting you on the shoulder in indignation. "Oh my god, you slept with her?"

You shrug, laughing softly and raising a finger in front of your lips in a sign of secrecy. "Kérkolas, her husband, must be cursing me from the afterlife right now." You joke managing a chuckle from Wanda. 

There is a moment of tender silence between the two of you, the long-time complicity of a long-missed friendship where you just stare at some of the displays around, walking side to side with each other. 

It is amidst one of the statues of Ancient Greece that your gazes meet again and no longer waver away. Wanda sighs and you nod towards the exit, she doesn't even need to think for her feet to start moving on instinct, following you wherever you want.

It is to a closed office that you take her, closing the door as soon as she enters.

Wanda swallows dryly at the gesture of helping her remove her coat, placing it on the support as she moves further into the room.

"Can I get you something to drink?" You ask working on the buttons of the sleeves of the social shirt you are wearing so Wanda understands that you are indeed going to prepare something for her. 

"Hm, sure, you can surprise me." She murmurs, and you offer her a mischievous little smile before walking toward the small bar at the corner of the office.

"Not that I'm not happy about your visit, darling, but I'm getting curious as to why." You comment and Wanda sighs deeply in the center of the room, trying to build up the courage. She keeps her gaze on the tall windows that illuminate the room and doesn't face you when she finally speaks.

"I'm getting a divorce."

You stop the motion of cutting a lemon and raise your eyes to her, your frown frowning in surprise. "Oh. I... I'm sorry to hear that."

She chuckles softly, staring at you. "No, you don't." 

"Yeah, I don't." You respond without hesitation, turning your attention back to the lemon. "Not for him, of course. Even though it bothers me that you're unhappy."

Wanda sighs, watching you prepare two drinks that honestly look delightful. "I'm not unhappy, Y/N." She retorts and you hum in a sign that you are listening. "I guess it was only inevitable."

"You're being a little hard on yourself." You comment with a tiny smile, finally holding two cups in hand, of which one you bring to her. "Tell me what happened."

She nods in thanks for the drink, and you raise an eyebrow as she turns the glass over in one gulp, chuckling dryly at the scene. Wanda grunts softly.

"Shit, that was good." She compliments the drink, and you smile as you see her staring at your cup as well. Without saying anything, you also hand her yours and take the empty one away. At least the second, Wanda tries to enjoy it more. After a sip, she sighs and begins to explain: "Vision took your advice. A little after the honeymoon, he went to visit Shuri. I think Makkari was with them. They talked about the safety of the stone and he decided to do the splitting in Wakanda." She counters breaking into a forced laugh. "And apparently without the stone, he runs out of love for me too."

You swallow dryly at the hurt expression on her face and raise your hand to take the cup away, slowly so as not to startle her. Wanda sniffles and you sigh. 

"I'm sorry about the end of your marriage."

She huffs. "No, you don't."

"I never wanted you unhappy, you know that." You insist firmly on her watery eyes. "And if his love lingered to a magic stone, you know it was good to find out about this early. It's less painful this way."

Wanda huffs angrily, taking a step forward. "How dare you, honestly?" She demands bitterly, but you don't flinch in your attitude. "You have ruined my marriage. I should... I..."

You raised a brow, waiting, but Wanda grunted and walked away, hiding her face in her hands. 

Hearing her cry finally breaks your posture, but you dare not touch her yet.

"I really thought I could be happy with him." She confesses low and vulnerable and you sigh. "How could I be so stupid?"

You move closer, circling her until Wanda can see you again. Your hands find her cheeks and she wants to hate the way her skin warms over your touch, but she can't even be angry about it.

"You haven't done anything wrong, my love." You whisper tenderly, wiping her cheeks with your thumbs. "You are so majestic, Wanda Maximoff. You deserve someone better, you've always deserved more than a machine. I could-"

Wanda pushes you by the shoulders, and you shut up at the fury in her red irises. 

"I'll never forgive you for interfering, you had no right!" That's the last thing she says to you before turning her back and leaving.

The drinking cup ends up on the wall with a throw, and half the items off your table as well. Wanda's coat is forgotten in your office for weeks until you leave this job too.

She won't answer your calls anymore.

-&-

There is a cold breeze passing through Massachusetts that makes Wanda shiver in her armchair. She gets up to close the windows and curtains, and her office is less bright than before with the action.

Candles are lit by themselves as she makes her way to her armchair again. On her desk are several documents to be reviewed: some are magical contracts on parchment because witches have quirks they refuse to lose, and others are printouts as one would expect to exist in the 21st century, some contain the symbol of the Avengers, others of the Kamar Taj.

A knock on the door followed by its opening makes Wanda raise her eyes.

"There's mail for you, Maximoff." Agatha announces with a sneer, tossing the items she holds into the air - which float toward Wanda's desk. "They might be late, no one checks the mailbox in this place."

It's Wanda's turn to grimace. "Thanks, Agatha." She retorts wryly, picking up the cards as soon as they reach them.  Her stomach does a complete turn when she reads the name, and it doesn't get any better when she reads the date. "What the...? Agatha, by god, some of these are months old!"

The older witch shrugs her shoulders, approaching Wanda's table unceremoniously. As the younger one opens the older letter, Agatha wastes no time in checking the newer ones, ignoring Wanda's slap of protest about this.

"Hmm, love letters, how sweet." Ironizes the witch as soon as she opens one, and laughs when Wanda grabs the item from her hand with a tug, the warning does not look very effective on account of her pink cheeks. "It's from Miss Immortal, I imagine."

"That's none of your business." Wanda retorts, turning her attention to one of the old correspondences from one of the Coven contacts that everyone thought had given up on making a deal, but apparently had just been ignored by the witch mail. 

Agatha chuckles lightly. "You know you can't ignore your girlfriend forever."

Wanda huffs impatiently. "She's not my girlfriend! She's nothing really. Just go mind your own business, will you? I'm working."

But Agatha ignores the request, leaning on the table to steal the letter back and fleeing from Wanda's hands before the woman can reach her.

"Please, Wanda, please forgive me. I never had any intent to hurt you in any way or cause you any pain-" The reading is interrupted when Wanda's magic does the work of snatching the letter from the other witch's hand, who falls into laughter. "Wow, you’re pissed off enough to rip an apology letter. What did she do, cheat on you?"

Wanda huffs impatiently. "For the last time, she's not my girlfriend!" But Agatha only giggles at the outburst, which makes Wanda sigh impatiently. "We were friends, and she...is the reason for my divorce."

"Hmm, spill the tea." Agatha makes mention of sitting down in one of the armchairs but Wanda rolls her eyes.

"Stop it, I'm busy." Grumbles the witch. "Thanks to you I just earned months of late work."

"No way, it's not my fault that most supernatural creatures don't trust the internet." Agatha retorts as she throws herself on one of the couches. "Every Winter Solstice is a real hell, with so many wolves on the loose and the council bothering us with the safety of mortals..."

Wanda sighs. "Agatha, I'm busy." She repeats, receiving a roll of her eyes in return as the other begrudgingly stands up.

"You know what, Maximoff? You need to get laid." Declares the other causing Wanda to choke in indignation, her ears burning. " Yes, you heard me! You've been a nervous wreck since you took over the leadership of the coven! You don't leave this office for anything and stay working all day, not even joining our festivities! And all this time you have a hot immortal sending you sex letters? It's truly absurd that you're still here." In complete shock, Wanda stares at her. Agatha grins at her expression. "My mortal years were the most fun, you should enjoy them as well. You are the Scarlet Witch, Wanda. One of the most powerful cosmic entities in the multiverse, you are going to have many centuries to focus on work, but your mortal life is only one. You should pay her a visit."

Wanda sighs in defeat, nodding in concordance after a moment. Agatha smiles in victory, and while the other searches for her cell phone, she risks spying on other letters.

"I have to admit that she sounds a lot less terrifying in these passages." Agatha comments as she reads again, ignoring Wanda's protest and continuing to talk. "She scared the girls off when she was here last year, and I heard stories about her strength. But reading this, I think she's just a simp." Jokes the brunette but Wanda doesn't laugh, looking at her with a frown of curiosity.

"She was here last year?"

Agatha snorts through her nose. "Of course, she was, silly." Replies the witch as if it's obvious. "She came as a diplomatic action between her people and ours, full of questions and agreements. It started out well, but you know how witches are. And in general, we don't trust strangers. It ended with her intimidating anyone who threatened to harm you, I believe."

Wanda felt her face warm and stared at Agatha in disbelief. "She... was here for me?"

The other chuckled again. "By all the holy ones, Maximoff, you are impossible! Where do you think I got the impression you two were a couple from? 

Wanda opens her mouth but doesn't know exactly what to say. She babbles something about being married at the time and Agatha laughs in disbelief. "Please, as if a piece of paper means anything to someone like her." Ironizes the older witch. "Especially the union with a microwave." She mutters the last part, but Wanda listens, grimacing.

"Don't talk about him like that. I loved Vision truly." Wanda says but that only brings a glint to Agatha's eyes.

"Hm, ‘past tense’? I think the Immortal one has a chance..." The witch fell into laughter as Wanda tried to hit her with an energy ball, ducking just in time. "Listen to someone who has lived as long as I have. You need to get laid."

"Agatha I swear to god I will use violence-"

But the older witch raises her hands in surrender and finally leaves the room, laughing all the way out and down the hall.

Wanda sighs at the empty room, the cell phone that has been turned off for weeks in her hand. 

She can do this, she repeats to herself. It doesn't have to be weird. She can call you and ask you for a drink and it doesn't have to be anything more than that. You have been friends before.

“This number is offline or out of range, please try again later or leave a message after the tone-”

With a frustrated grunt at the fourth attempt to make contact, Wanda returned the cell phone to her pocket and marched determinedly out of the room. She wouldn't be stopped by technology from finding you, not a chance. If Agatha didn't know how to help, two speedsters probably would.

-&-

The loud music almost made her turn around. It was a generic but addictive electronica, and it was so blasting from the speakers that even before she stepped through the portal she opened to get there, Wanda could already hear the noise that the vast majority of the neighbors in the area of that Spanish nightclub could as well.

Makkari was courteous enough to tell her where you were last seen, going so far as to joke that if Wanda couldn't find you at this party, she should try the next bars down the street. Wanda couldn't laugh at the joke, her stomach suddenly wracked with strange guilt as she heard stories about how your last few months had been spent on intense partying that wasn't at all typical of your behavior, and that had a lot to do with a fight you haven't told any of your friends about, but which Wanda remembered every detail of as if it were yesterday. Makkari tried to comfort her, saying that every Eternal has their period of dissatisfaction with immortality and that parties are a good distraction, but it didn't help to know that not even her best friends were sure of your current location or state of health.

Wanda tried to be positive about the reunion, but as soon as she entered the crowded nightclub, and with the help of some basic telekinesis, she reached a VIP area with clearly magical people, she didn't feel much at ease. And there were you too, in all your melancholy glory sitting on a leather couch watching a gambling game with two beautiful girls practically sitting on your lap.

A security guard made mention of stopping her entrance, but red irises stared at him for half a second and it was enough for him to make room for her to pass instead.

She noticed your lazy eyes, dilated pupils, and easy smile, and hated the hand on the thigh of the girl on the right as if she were suffering the greatest of betrayals. Wanda knew she had no right to feel this way, having been the one to fight with you, to blame you for the end of her marriage, and to have ignored all your attempts to apologize, but this is exactly the way she does feel.

You lean in, whispering something dirty enough in the girl's ear to make her blush and close her legs, and Wanda loses patience.

"Makkari was right. You truly hit rock bottom." She mocks in a tone loud enough to be heard throughout the entire backstage, the music slightly muffled by the walls in the rest of the club. All eyes turn curiously to her, but yours are the ones she's looking for, and they take almost a full moment to focus. Your relaxed posture doesn't change, but your smile fades.

"Look who decided to show up." You returned with a certain coolness that made Wanda swallow dryly. "Greetings to the legendary Scarlet Witch."

Each individual in the room turns their face and greets her at the same second, the hypnotized chorus of 'Hello, Wanda' makes an eerie shiver run through her entire body. She doesn't have time to create any theories about the whole scene, because out of a curtain in the background comes a figure she doesn't know as well as the other Eternals.

Druig's presence is a complete surprise to her. Wanda remembers well all the disagreements you two have had and the stories she has heard about the past. So finding that Eternal in a fancy, expensive suit, controlling an entire nightclub by your side is not exactly a predictable situation.

"Wanda Maximoff, what an honor to meet you again." He comments as he moves closer to kiss her hand, taking on old customs with natural ease. His hand remained holding her for a full moment, and Wanda understood it to be a warning. The attitude made her blood boil. But when Druig turned his attention back to you, he was smiling. "You didn't tell me old friends would be visiting you, sister."

You locked your jaw. "Don't call me that, Druig." Was your warning, detaching yourself from the grip of the girls beside you without any trouble to get up. "And stop trying to scare Wanda. You wouldn't stand a chance with her. Nor with me, brother."

A wicked smile played on the man's lips, but he remained with his hands behind his back and nodded in understanding to your statement. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda and it was enough for her to follow you to what looked like a balcony of the chamber, which provided a view of the magnificent capital of Barcelona.

As soon as Wanda was beside you at the edge, you gestured back, creating a transparent wall in the doorway to prevent snooping. She recognized the privacy spell and kept to herself the realization of how cold and twitchy your magic felt, very different from the last time she felt your presence at the university in London.

"Why are you here, Wanda?" You asked her immediately, with no patience for small talk. 

"I called." She returned without caring about the aggressiveness, her hands clasped tightly inside her pockets, seeking some warmth in her own jacket to protect herself from the cold night. Not so long ago, you would have wasted no time in offering her a scarf, or taking any action to warm her, and the lack of friendliness and nurturance made her shiver more than the cold. "Makkari said-"

"I can deduce exactly what she said, thank you." You cut her off with a certain impatience. You didn't keep your gaze, rummaging through your pockets for something until you pulled out of your jacket a silver bottle marked with the Asgard symbol. Thor had one of those, and Wanda knew immediately that it was a traditional drink. The way your fingers were trembling made her understand that this would not be the first sip of either Asgardian liquor or an earthly drink.

"I wish you were sober for this conversation."

You chuckled, short and ironic still with your gaze on the bottle you were opening. Your laughter lingered during the big gulp you took, and when you looked at her again, you commented, "You were always funny, Maximoff. Truly enjoyable company." Your gaze faded to the landscape, nostalgic and hurt, and Wanda sighed.

"I didn't come here to fight with you, Y/N." She tried again, though dissatisfied with your distant posture, still determined to set things straight. "But I was surprised to find you so..."

"Miserable?" You complete for her with a weak laugh, still looking out over the city. Wanda swallows dryly, and you sigh. "Don't martyr yourself. No matter how devastating the broken heart feels, it always heals."

"I'm sorry." She declares softly. "I never meant to hurt you."

You clear your throat, pulling away a little to look at her, and with the posture you assume, Wanda almost feels physical walls between you.

"You didn't come to Barcelona for an apology, Maximoff. What happened? Is it something with work?" Your frown is gently worried, but the insinuation irritates her.

"Do you really think I wouldn't talk to you for so long just to show up asking for work favors?" She retorts but you don't flinch.

"I don't think anything, Wanda." You retort indifferently. "I've stopped having expectations of you, or anyone else. That way I avoid being disappointed."

"Is this you or Druig talking?" She challenges, and instead of hitting a nerve, you smile. 

You bring the flask closer to your lips, and whisper, "Always too quick for me, clever girl." before drinking and accomplishing a small smile from her.

"I mean it, Y/N." Wanda insists, though softer than before. "I want to apologize for the last time we saw each other. I shouldn't have blamed you for the end of my marriage, nor put down your attempts to fix things between us."

You study her face for a moment, finding only sincerity in her eyes. Then you sigh, and finish all the liquid in the bottle in one gulp. Wanda opens her mouth to say something, but you interrupt her.

"When was the last time you had fun, Scarlet Witch?"

She frowns, hesitantly. "I'm really not in the mood-"

But you grabbed her hand, grinning. "Don't be boring, Maximoff. We were friends before any of the drama. Come, I'll show you how the Spanish celebrate life."

Since becoming the Scarlet Witch, Wanda had gotten better with crowds because of her job. Still, it was a little hard to be inserted into a fair of bodies squeezed inside a lounge with vibrant colors and loud music. And your hand pulling her close, spinning her around as your body moved against hers to the synchronized beat wasn't helping her nerves at all.

But eventually, Wanda felt all the tension dissipate within the songs - only to be replaced by an equally suffocating feeling. Your hands roamed over her body as your hips slammed together and Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else but you.

She spun again, one last time before you grew tired of ignoring your own will, and grabbed her face, your mouth against hers.

Wanda choked on her own breath, and the world stopped for a whole moment. All the sounds, and all the people around just disappeared. You kissed her and that was all that mattered in that second.

But you let go before she could respond the way she wanted to, and the look on your face made her swallow dry.

"What's wrong?" She whispered half breathlessly against your lips.

Your hand was warm against her cheek, and when you moved it away, Wanda almost let out an audible protest at the lack, her body practically tumbling towards you, begging for your touch.

You shook your head in the negative, turning and moving further into the crowd and Wanda almost lost sight of you. 

The people around seemed to hinder her path to you, but a glimpse of the red glows and the hall cleared a path for the witch. If Wanda began to use her powers with more confidence now, Agatha Harkness had a strong influence on it.

You went outside the nightclub, and Wanda realized you must have spent some time dancing because the street was much emptier than before.

With a hand on your chest, your breathing labored and your shoulders tense, Wanda realized you looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack.

"Hey, darling, talk to me-" She reached up trying to touch your wrist but you pulled away. Your back was turned so far but when you turned around, Wanda saw that your eyes were filled with tears.

"Don't you dare." You raise a finger towards her, gasping and emotional. Then she falls silent immediately, gulping dryly at the fury in your gaze. "You don't... have the right, okay? You just can't."

She sighs, taking a step forward. "You're the one who kissed me."

You chuckle in disbelief, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "Fuck you, Wanda."

"How classy." She sneers to which you only shake your head.

"You did this to me." You retort determinedly, gesturing to yourself. "Look at me, Wanda! I'm a mess! I'm sick! You've carved your way into my heart, and I can't live without you! Do you even realize what you've done? Do you even care?"

Heart racing, Wanda opens her mouth but the intensity of the confessions has left her speechless. She has no chance to speak, however, because you continue.

"Seven thousand years I've been on this earth, and I've never felt like this. Who gave you the right? I'm not made for it, I don't know how to... deal with it. This pain, this lack. The longing... I can't do it, Wanda." You gasp. "I was fine without you! I was working, sticking to my mission. And then you came along and ruined me for good!" Your hand pulled her close again, your forehead resting against hers. Wanda waited and waited for a kiss that never came. Instead, you held her hands against your chest. "Take your love away, Wanda. I don't know where to put it if I can't dedicate it to you."

She smiled tearfully, brushing their noses together. "I haven't lived that long, but I will, my darling. And I want it spent with you." She whispered, holding on tighter as you look at her doubtfully. "I will only take your love with me if I can leave mine with you."

"Wanda-"

"Stop babbling and kiss me for once, you drunken fool." She cuts you off, and you don't waste another second. 

You think all those centuries were worth it for this moment. Wanda kisses and kisses you, and can't believe she resisted this for so long. That she dared to marry another when she could have had this.

You let out an audible moan as she sucked your tongue and she was grateful for your hands around her waist, for she would have slipped to the floor.

When you broke apart, panting and flushed, you stood with your faces very close together.

"You should have married me." It is the first thing you say, and it draws a hearty, husky laugh from the other.

"There's still time, I suppose." She retorts, shy about the look of adoration she catches the next moment. She swallows dryly. " I'm sorry I hurt you before."

You shake your head quickly. "I hurt you first, I know. I should have told all the others to go to hell and run away with you when I had the chance."

She giggles, pleased that you recognize the past. Your mistakes too, not just hers. But none of that mattered anymore now, and she told you so.

You decided that enough had been said and that words could be left for tomorrow.

[xvxni]

The Vampire Diaries Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

Let's get started!

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓮 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼/ 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓞𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓼

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝒷𝑒𝓈

Lady In Shining Armour

Due to the recent arrival of the Mikaelsons in town, your best friend Caroline doesn't have time for you anymore. It hurts to see you and the girl who has known since you were in diapers grow apart. But when she saves your life, confessions follow up and you realize that vampires are not the only things immortal...

Angst, fluff ---- COMING SOON!

Outing

Caroline is so not in high spirits, but you know just the thing to cheer up everyone's favourite blonde.

Fluff, a lil' bit of angst ---- COMING SOON!

Dating Miss Mystic Falls

Headcanons of you dating (let's face it) the best Miss Mystic Falls the town has ever had.

Fluff, smut, possibly angst ---COMING SOON!

Nothing... yet.

𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓽

Control

You're new at being a witch and you're not great at controlling your magic. You realise that your older sister Bonnie is the only one who can help you, but you got into a terrible fight with her just a few days back... but blood is thicker than water.

Angst, fluff ----COMING SOON!

Diary Entry

You're crushing on the supposed nemesis of the gang, Klaus Mikaelson, who earns a vivid diary entry. Your friend Bonnie finds out. Disaster ensues.

Angst ---UNDER HEAVY PROGRESS

Best Summer

Headcanons of you and your best friend Bonnie spending the best summer ever.

Fluff, fluff, fluff! ---COMING SOON!

Assurance

Amidst the supernatural chaos of Mystic Falls, you and your friends are fighting everyday for your lives. It is easy to be scared, but why fear when Bonnie is here?

Fluff, possibly angst ---COMING SOON!

𝓔𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓪 𝓖𝓲𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓽

Baking Lessons

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that two crafty teenage girls in the kitchen is the perfect recipe for a disaster.

Fluff, fluff, fluff! ---COMING SOON!

Fragments

You are the youngest Gilbert, who recently found out that you had been compelled to leave town. You lose your trust in your eldest sibling, Elena.

Angst ---COMING SOON!

Nothing... yet.

Nothing... yet.

𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓯𝓪𝓷 𝓢𝓪𝓵𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮

Burn

I'm just loving that dress on you. Let's burn it.

Smut ---UNDER HEAVY PROGRESS

It Has Always Been You

Under a state of intoxication (was it just the alcohol?), you reveal your darkest desires to Stefan, who does his best to make them come true.

Smut, fluff ---UNDER HEAVY PROGRESS

Nothing... yet.

Moment

Amid the supernatural occurrings of Mystic Falls, you and your boyfriend Stefan finally find a moment for yourselves.

Fluff ---COMING SOON!

𝓓𝓪𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓢𝓪𝓵𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓮

Phone Sex

The title says it all...

Smut ----COMING SOON!

Weekend

Headcanons of how you and your boyfriend Damon spend the weekend.

Slight smut, fluff ---COMING SOON!

𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼

𝓞𝓷𝓮

Apology

Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Requested by: @imagine-all-the-fandoms

The Mikaelsons Masterlist here

Hola, mis amigos!

I'm Avani. I'm new here and I mostly write for myself, but I read all these wonderful stories here and I wanted to share my work as well. I live for books. I'm particularly drawn to classics and I just love the enemies to lovers trope. Cats are love and they should totally rule the world!

I'm also an amateur writer, an artist and I love cooking. I'm a Scorpio and my house is Ravenclaw. I have a knack of being obsessed with everything and anything I come across. I mostly write on Bridgerton and TVDU.

I'm an Elijah girl and have a thing for chin dimples and bespoken suits.

You can find me under #xvxni posts .

XOXO,

Avani

[luvneymar]

Hii could you do a Neymar jr X fem!reader when they met when they were teenagers and when she was 17 and he was 18 they had Davi, they were best friends at first(they didn’t want to ruin their relationship so none of them said anything, but then they got drunk and had sex) but after they had sex and had a son together they started dating, because they had always been in love with each other.

now they are like 25 and 26, and she is a famous marvel actress(make her the scarlet witch pls) and they go to a premiere together, and everyone is obsessed with them, such a beautiful and powerful family.

I’m dying to read something like that, if maybe you decide to write this and, if you really like the idea, make it a series, I have more ideas!!

thank you if you’ll do it!! I love your writing so much!!

ps:sorry for my broken English, not a native speaker.❤️❤️❤️❤️✨

(1/2) FOREVER AND ALWAYS — NEYMAR JR

SUMMARY: You and your best friend have been in-love with each other since forever, one day you both get drunk and you end up pregnant

PARING: teen!neymar x teen!reader

It was a late Saturday night & you had invited Neymar over for alcohol, games & more alcohol. You both were laughing the night away as you played the 100th drinking game tonight. “Okay I’ve got a good one, Drink if you’ve ever cried during sex.”

You hesitated before chugging the vodka in your cup eyes avoid Neymar as much as possible, while you chugged he laughed loudly spilling his drink all over your carpet. “No way! You’ve actually have?”

You wiped your mouth of the excess alcohol dripping down your chin laughing along with him so hard you fell onto the floor. “I was 15 & in-love, the only reason I cried was because he kept asking if I came. Like yeah I came, to my senses.”

You both laughed until you couldn’t breath & you were pretty sure you peed your pants a little. Once you sat up you scooted yourself towards Neymar placing your head on his shoulder. “You’re Unbelievable.”

Neymar rubbed his hand up and down your exposed thigh stopping every 30 seconds to take another sip of his beer. You sat up turning your body to face him before continuing. “Okay, I have a good one. Drink if you’ve ever flashed someone.”

Neymar hesitated before taking a sip of his quick sip of his bittersweet beer, you stared at him in horror before laughing uncontrollably again barely able to construct your sentence. “You’ve flashed someone?”

“You haven’t?” As you both stared at each other before bursting out to laughter rolling on the floor type of laughter. For the millionth time tonight. “How did you even?” You asked as you sat back up downing the rest of your drink.

“It happened at a concert, it was by accident though.” He begun pulling your body closer to his as he handed you another bottle of vodka, you rolled your eyes at his confession knowing that was the complete opposite of the truth.

“Uh-huh. I know you Neymar.” You answered as you open the bottle pouring into your whiskey glass, as you did you felt Neymar’s eyes on your every move. “Oh really? In what way?”

“In all ways.” You answered shortly before placing the chewed up straw into your mouth, you noticed Neymar nervously gulp as he looked away. You giggled lightly nudging him in side trying to get him to face you again.

Neymar sighed hesitating before he finally pushed out the words he’s been meaning to say the whole night. You both were obviously attracted to each other and by the way you both acted around each other many people seemed to think so as well.

Neymar took a large sip of his beer before pushing out his deepest darkest thoughts. “Is it me or being drunk made you look really sexy?”

“Really? Tell me how.” Hearing you say that Neymar not only gained an extreme boost of confidence along a sense of relief also washed over him.

Clearly the alcohol was doing all the talking to the both of you since you placed your cup to straddle him, wrapping your hands around his neck. Your actions had shock Neymar but only for a second before he placed his on your waist

“Well I want nothing more than to touch your body, especially your breasts. I wanna kiss you & touch you.” Neymar whispered into your ear brushing hands up and down your waist. “Do it then.” You whispered back pulling his hands up to remove your shirt.

“Really? Are you sure this is what you want?” Neymar asked you for consent before continuing with anything before hand, “I don’t want to ruin our friendship or anything—”

“You’re gonna ruin this friendship if you don’t take off your pants and kiss me.” You whispered pulling him in for a kiss as you both shuffled your clothes off throwing them all across the room.’

“God you’re incredibly sexy.” Neymar pulled away from the kiss just so your lips would be a few millimetres apart before pulling you in for a kiss once again.

—

The sun shone directly into your eyes as you opened your eyes hand blocking the sun you realized you were completely naked right beside Neymar who was also completely naked. You shook him awake to ask what had happened. “What happened?”

“We fucked that’s what happened.” He groaned pulling the blanket over his head trying to block out the sun that was shining in his eyes. “God my head hurts.” You groaned sitting up pulling the blanket up to cover your boobs.

“Mine too, rock paper scissors?” He asked peeking his hand out from under the blanket, you won with your paper covering his rock

“You’re making the hangover tea, i’m gonna take a shower.” Neymar groaned, pulling the blanket right off his head as you left the bed walking towards the bathroom. As you passed the other side of the bed you felt a hard impact on your bare ass causing you to jump.

“Friends don’t slap each others asses.” You reminded him as you smacked him on his forehead before continuing into the bathroom turning back to look at his cheeky smile. You laughed before slamming the bathroom door.

“What we did last night wasn’t what friends do.” He yelled out jumping out of the bed and walking towards the door before you could lock it.

“But that’s what friends with benefits do.” He reminded you, you were already in the shower where the glass was blurred so you had no problem with him being in the bathroom with you.

“Whatever, I’m gonna grab the tea put it a cup & head to work. Remember to lock the door alright?” You shouted back as you heard the bathroom door close.

“See you later?” He peaked into the door to ask once more. “Maybe, Maybe not.” You answered shortly before shooting him away.

—

Ever since that day you’ve avoided Neymar like the plague despite making it very clear that you both were cool, the only reason why you were avoiding him was because you felt odd. Your boobs were tender, you’ve gained weight, you’ve been bloated and all the sorts.

You assumed you were just ovulating until you realized your period was late 5 days, you were never late. It hadn’t dawned on you until your friend Anne had groped you in the change room and you winced.

“Anne do that! That hurt.” You shrieked as you backed away from her holding your chest tightly, even hold your chest made your breasts hurt. “Your boobs are tender? What are you pregnant?” She laughed as she put on her shirt.

As she was chuckling at her statement she turned around and saw you frozen in position hands remaining on your chest standing with a look of horror & disbelief on your face.

She jogged towards you placing her hands on your shoulder shaking you back and forward trying to get you to snap out of your trance. “I was joking girl, you can’t be pregnant. Are you pregnant..?”

Hearing her voice snapped you out of your trance despite still holding your hands to your chest, you stood there staring into the distance trying to think of a reply .“I think so.” You replied nodding slowly finally facing your friend.

“The best way to fight fear is with information. I’ll be on the other side of the door.” She took to your hand into hers pulling you towards the change-room bathrooms knowing there had to be a pregnancy tests somewhere.

As you walked tower the bathroom as your legs shook in fear, you were a senior in high-school and was about to accept a full-ride to your dream collage. You felt nothing but terrified as to what could happen if the stick has 2 lines instead of one.

Your friend handed you a pregnancy test she found from another storage closet hugging you before she ushering you into the stall sending a warm smile your way; that smile made you know what no matter what the results were you’d be okay.

A few minutes after you walked out of the stall pregnancy test in-hand still loading the results, you walked towards the sink staring at yourself in the mirror as you clutched the test as tight as you could. Anne walked beside you taking your hand in hers. “Well what’s the result?”

“I don’t know it hasn’t say.” You answer shortly unaware that you were still sharing from the fear of all the possibilities. You never thought you of all people would put yourself in a situation where you could become a teen-mom.

“Okay let’s wait.” She whispered into your ear as her hand rubbed your back, as you both waited some time passed and you knew the test must’ve been done by now. “It’s up, can you look for me? I don’t want look.”

She took her hand off your back and grabbed the test from your hand taking a quick look at it before sighing, “Positive.” Hearing those words your knees finally gave out and you fell to the floor as tears begun to fall from your eyes.

—

Once you finished having your feelings you stood up from the dirty bathroom floor legs wobbling like a baby deer as you stood up wiping your tears away. Anne got up along with you “What are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know.” You replied quietly “I have to tell the father I guess.” You took the pregnancy test from Anne’s hand and threw it at the wall as hard as you could, as it shatter into pieces you

“Do you know who it could be?” Anne asked you in a quiet voice as you both walked out of the change-room ignoring the shattered positive pregnancy tests on the floor.

“Yeah.”

“Good luck then, tell me what happens.” She patted your back as she exited the change room leaving you all alone in there, as you stood in the empty quiet change-room.

—

It had been a few weeks once the since you found out you were pregnant and you still hadn’t told anyone but Anne that you were pregnant, you wore double layers, walked as fast as you could & skipped first period so you could vomit in the bathroom.

Once you were finished throwing up in the stall for the 3rd today you exited the stall to see Anne standing right in-front of you with a disappointed look her on her face. “What?”

You pushed pasted her towards the sink to wash your mouth as she followed arms crossed & an angry look on her face. “You still haven’t told him that’s what! He came to me today asking for the 100th time why you were avoiding him.”

“Tell him it’s because i’m busy.” You muttered out as you finished washing out the vomit smell from your mouth, as you looked up at your reflection in the mirror you could tell that you looked a mess & everyone else thought so.

“No. I’m not lying to him the way you are, tell him today or I will.” Anne firmly replied walking out of the bathroom. Her sentence had just filled your entire body with rage even though you knew deep down she was right.

You had to tell Neymar you were pregnant with his child it was the right thing to do, but if he wanted nothing to do with you after he found out he could go on to live a full life while your a single mother begging for change on the street as you cant afford to feed your baby let alone yourself.

Once you exited the bathroom you bumped into non other than Neymar himself looking at you with an upset face that morphed so sadness once he saw how unwell you looked. “Finally! I can track you down, now please. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it something I did or—?”

“Come with me.” You cut him off dragging him by his blazer into the storage closet right between the boys & girls washrooms, as soon as you both were in the room you looked up at him as your eyes watered.

“What’s going on (name)?” He asked as he raised his hand to cup the side of your face. You sighed taking a breath of faith before continuing, “I’m pregnant.” You answered in a voice so frail & quiet not even a mouse could hear.

“What—?”

“I’m pregnant!” You shouted out looking up at him taking in what you had just said, he released his hand from your face just to pull you in for a hug as he caressed your hair. “It’s gonna be okay.” He whispered as you begin to bawl into his chest.

“We’ll be okay.” He told you as he pulled away not even acknowledging the snot & tears all over his uniform, seeing your eyes well up again he pulled you in holding you carefully as your knees gave out and you slid onto the floor.

—

“How far along are you?” Neymar asked you as you stroked his hair while he laid in your lap snacking on the chips he stole from the vending machine while waiting for you outside of the bathroom.

“I don’t know but it’s been a few weeks since I took the test so, 2 months? 2 and a half?” You answered stealing a handful from his bag, he smacked your hand before it could even exit the bag. “Why’d you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because you know how easy it is for teen dads to abandon their children while the mother is stuck with them.” As you confessed your true thoughts about this situation causing Neymar to sit up from your lap to stare at you.

“Well, you know me. I’d never do that to you. You know that.” He replied sitting up against the wall with you handing his chips over. As you took a handful of the over salted chips you answered his sentence with another question.!“What are we going to do now?”

“Well do you want to keep the baby?” Neymar asked the question you’ve never given much thought too, you’ve told nobody about your pregnancy so you thought if you hadn’t told anyone it wasn’t real. “Do you?”

“My football career is taking off so If you decided to keep it i’ll provide for both of you.” Neymar replied before laying his head back down on your lap snatching his chips back to find them almost empty.

“So we’re keeping it?” You questioned as a conformation to all of his questions/answers. “I guess so.” He answered nonchalantly munching on the crumbs of the chips before tossing the empty bag to the other side of the dark closet.

As you both say in silence just enjoying each others precedence after a long time of being apart you finally asked the soul crushing question you’ve been meaning to ask. “Do you love me?”

“If I didn’t love you I wouldn’t sleep with you.” He answered nonchalantly trying to ease his own nerves, the moment you asked the question all he wanted to do was shout yes.“It’s yes or no Neymar.” You answered smacking him on the forehead.

“Geez and I thought girls had a knack for this. Yes Im in love with you. So madly in-love with you that I want to raise a child with you.” He grumbled out rubbing his forehead trying to fade the red spot forming on his face. “Good.”

“Good?” He questioned, looking up at you with a confused look on his face, you laughed at the expression on his face before continuing, “I was just making sure you loved me too.”

“Do you love me?” He continued his questionnaire sitting up to stare at you as best as he could in the dark. “Did you not just hear me say ‘loved me too’?”

“It’s yes or no (name).” He flicked your forehead quite hard causing you to wince at the pain shooting throughout your forehead. “Ouch!” You grumbled out turning your head away from him. “Yes I’m madly in-love with you as well, or whatever.”

“Good.” He kissed your cheek before laying back down onto your lap. You both sit in silence again just enjoying each other‘s company before you reminded him after remembering something funny, he had said a few months ago.

“We’re not naming him Neymar Junior Junior, if it’s a boy of course.” You reminded him settling into your original position of his head on your lap & your hand in his hair. “Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s a mouthful anyway.”

“Do you have more chips?” You asked feeling your stomach rumble as you suddenly remember you vomited up everything you ate this morning. “I do, not for you though.” Neymar admitted as he opened another bag of chips he pulled out of his pocket.

“Do you hear that?” You asked listening around for a noise that wasn’t even there.

“What?”

“Your baby crying because their daddy won’t feed them.”

“Oh please.” As you both laughed at your lame joke you heard on the intercoms; “(Name) (Last Name) & Neymar Santos please return to class.”

“That’s our cue, soooo I’ll see you later?” You asked as you stood up from the floor dusting off your uniform.

“See you.” Neymar kissed your cheek before leaving the storage closet and walking back his class.

[ neymarsluv! ] next →

[notapradagurl7]

Take All Of Me.

Pairing: VAMPIRE!Unique x BLACK FEM!WITCH! READER.

Word Count: 4,629k

♡(Requested @naj-ay444 )♡

Summary: You were a young witch working with your aunt at an antique store in a small town where nothing strange happen, until your mom works late, you felt a presence. After arriving home safe and sound at night, you were all alone and he arrived unexpectedly.

Taglist: @keyera-jackson @satoruya @xblackreader @beenathembo @henneseyhoe @justhornyyme @sageispunk @roeroe-world @planetblaque @harmshake

A/N: I wish there were more fics about black vampires and dark-skinned women as the protagonist, however I will decide to write it myself, forget to like, comment and reblog. (comment if you want to be added to the taglist, 18+ only)

Warnings: praise, bondage, dirty talk, orgasm control, rough sex, mention of witchcraft, slight degradation, overstimulation, mention of blood, mention of d*ath, safe word, spanking, blood drinking, pet names, choking/breathplay, biting, nipple play, sadism/masochism, temperature play.

————————

The scent of rosemary and peppermint incense wafted through the air with the chime of a small brass bell ringing through the antique store, indicating that someone was coming into the store. You lifted your head to see your mother step into the store. You stood behind the desk in front of the cash register with your eyes roaming around the store, the brown shelves rested at the corner of the spacious room, the shelves were filled with small ancient vases and sage green coffee mugs. The four walls were painted in a light green hue.

It was a slow day in here when it was fewer people coming in, to be honest, you preferred it that way since your aunt owned the place, it meant you went home early and slept in all week or weekend long. Hell, you still got paid either way.

Your aunt Nicole was the owner of the antique store where you have been employed since your teenage years, and now you have reached adulthood.

You lived in a small town filled with a few black witches, you were a descendant of hoodoo culture that stemmed from your grandmother.

“Hey Mama, how are you?” you asked her, giving a warm smile as you carefully arranged a stack of books on the coffee table.

She greeted you with a warm smile and her eyes roamed the store and shifted back on you, “I’m good my sweet child, I see you've been hard at work again," she sang, her voice filled with pride.

"Yes, mom. Aunt Nicole needed some extra help today, so I offered to stay until I leave." you mused, yawning and strenched your limbs.

Nicole, your aunt and mentor, was a powerful witch herself. She had taught you everything you knew about magic and the mystical arts. The antique store was a place of business, but where they could share their knowledge and artifacts with those who sought them.

On the other hand, you've been feeling a presence specifically during the night, regardless of whoever or whatever it may be. Consequently, you had to approach your mom and inquire if she had any knowledge regarding the situation.

Your black locs were styled up in a bun, with two locs cascading gracefully over your shoulder. Your complexion was a rich, deeply melanin-enriched dark brown tone. You sported a black tee shirt paired with khaki dust-colored mini pants, plain white sneakers, and matching socks adorned your feet.

You moved around the desk, took your coat off the coat rack, and smoothly put it on your back, readying yourself to depart and lock up the store.

“Mom, I've been feeling a presence lately and I'm not sure who is it but it's calling out to me..” You admitted, your eyes fixed on her.

For one week, you feel a constant presence throughout the day, but the night arrives unexpectedly, like a clandestine intruder, an alluring and overpowering aura beckoned you.

Your mother responded to your confession by softly humming, causing her powers to awaken. She placed her hand gently on your forehead and closed her eyes, emitting a vibrant deep purple light from her palm. This light sent soothing vibrations throughout your body. After opening her eyes, she took a deep breath.

Your mom faced you with concern, she removed her hand away from your forehead. She knew exactly who you were talking about. You had to be warned.

"There is a presence trailing behind you Y/N, and I am well aware of his identity. He is none other than Unique, a powerful ruler of the vampire realm," she cautioned, her chin delicately cradled by her thumb and index finger.

"Mom, what do you mean he's coming for my blood?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "Why would he be interested in me?"

You've been told about Unique and the tales surrounding him, and although you've crossed paths multiple times, you've exchanged a few words. This moment was finally your opportunity to overcome him.

After she explained everything to you, you couldn't help but be a little worried. The words hung heavy in the air as your mother spoke. A vampire king? Unique?

The name sent shivers down your spine, both from fear and curiosity. You had heard stories of vampires, but you never thought you would encounter one, let alone have one come specifically for you.

You've read books, and seen movies but do they really exist? What was the rivalry between witches and vampires?

“My dear, you possess a power unlike any other. Your blood holds the key to unlocking immense magical abilities. It is said that a vampire who drinks the blood of a powerful witch can gain even greater strength and control over their own powers."

"So, Unique wants to...drink my blood?" you took a step back, still trying to process everything.

"Yes, but it's not just about bloodlust, for centuries, witches and vampires have been sworn enemies..” your mother explained, crossing her arms.

"There was a connection between vampires and witches, until it became a bond that goes beyond mere sustenance. If you allow him to drink from you willingly, it can be a mutually beneficial exchange. He will gain power and you will gain power as well."

The idea both intrigued and frightened you. You couldn't be with a vampire, but gaining power, was both alluring and dangerous. But you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that coursed through your veins.

"What should I do, Mom?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Protect yourself with your powers Y/N..” she reminded you, Your mother's expression softened, and she placed a hand on your cheek.

You nodded, taking in her words. This was a decision that would alter the course of your life forever. But deep down, you knew that you had to be ready, and the pull was becoming harder to resist. With a heavy heart, you bid your mother goodbye and closed the antique store for the night.

You knew that whatever choice you made, your mom would always be there for you.

"I'll protect myself, Mom," you said finally. "But for now, I need to focus on closing up the store."

However, the following night, your mother is working late and won't return home until the next day. Meanwhile, you are left on your own in the cozy house that you share with her. At this moment, you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed in your personal bedroom.

You were wearing a simple gray tee shirt along with matching shorts, your locs pulled up in a bun while your eyes were glued to the television. However, you eventually sensed something, a recognizable presence.

A tingling sensation danced along your skin, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Your senses heightened, and you knew that something, or someone, extraordinary was about to enter your life.

"Shit! He's here.." you muttered under your breath, your voice trembling a bit.

Despite your efforts to conceal your fear, you relied on your abilities to protect yourself, hoping they would be sufficient to stand against Joey.

The lights and television started to flicker in an unpredictable manner in your bedroom. Your heart pounded fiercely, beads of sweat trickled down from your forehead. Why were you still trembling?

The crimson-red cumulus clouds floated elegantly through the small opening in the ceiling and settled in the corner of your room. As you observed, your attention focused on the crimson clouds slowly separating and revealing Unique standing in between them.

He approached you confidently, his eyes retaining their crimson-red glow as red clouds billowed around him and dispersed into nothingness with a snap of his fingers. A mischievous smile spread across his attractive face, revealing his gleaming white fangs.

"Don't worry, I'm not gon’ hurt you. I just want to talk to you Y/N…” He mused, his tongue ran across his lips.

He stared intensely into your soul with his menacing gaze, piercing through you with those demonic eyes. As his black boots echoed with heavy stomps on your brown hardwood floors, a blend of longing and unease flooded over you.

You felt a chilling sensation down your back as his gaze focused on you, and you were not meant to experience such emotions towards him. He was your adversary, and you were expected to harbor animosity towards him.

You swiftly rose from your bed, watching him as your brown irises transformed into a pale shade of pink while you gesticulated, generating a protective pink barrier surrounding you. “Stay back!” you commanded, your fists clenched tightly.

The sage-green curtains allowed the bright moonlight to filter into the room, casting a gentle glow on his richly pigmented complexion. His dark skin looked stunning, radiating a captivating beauty.

He was incredibly good-looking. How could someone with such a dangerous aura be so irresistibly attractive? Your mom did always said the cute ones can get you into fucked up.

You weren't fully aware that your blood was both rare and exquisite, and he desired much more than just a taste. He yearned for every aspect of your being.

Unique’s lips curled into a mischievous grin, a soft chuckle escaping his throat. His eyes ablaze with a hungry crimson glow settled on you. The tantalizing scent of your blood filled his senses, causing a subtle twitch in his manhood. With a flicker, his eyes returned to their ordinary deep brown hue.

"Quite impressive, Y/N," he purred, his voice velvety smooth.

"But your weak force field won't last for long against me." His voice, now an octave higher, dripped with confidence.

With a snap of his fingers, the force field surrounding you shimmered and vanished. Instinctively, you lifted your hand towards him, and a radiant burst of sunlight erupted from your palm. His hand gracefully swept over yours, stealing the sunlight as he clenched his fist tightly around it.

The once vibrant light diminished, crumbling to darkness within his grasp. Your eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief coursing through your veins.

Wait? Wasn't the sunlight supposed to kill them? Why wasn't it working on him?

“Sunlight doesn't kill us, garlic doesn't do shit and we don't change into bats, sliver doesn't kill us either Y/N. Every move you have for me, I can stop it before you can even try..” he spat with venom, his step slow and deliberate toward you.

With your hands shining purple, you raised them high over your head and swiftly pushed a massive wave of purple energy in his direction.

Unique effortlessly deflected the wave of purple energy with a flick of his wrist, causing it to dissipate into thin air. His eyes locked onto yours, amusement and hunger within them.

"Is that all you've got, little witch?" he taunted, taking another step closer to you.

"You'll need to do better than that if you want to stand a chance against me."

Fear coursed through your veins, but you refused to let it consume you. You had been trained by your mother and aunt to harness your powers and protect yourself. You took a deep breath, channeling your inner strength.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the energy within you, feeling it surge through your veins like a raging river. You called upon the elements, summoning the power of fire, water, earth, and air to surround you.

The elements swirled around you, The intense heat of flames licked at the air, while water droplets floated gracefully in mid-air. Rocks and leaves danced around you, pushing every single element at him, As he moved his hand swiftly, the rocks grazed against your face, hitting your arm and at the same time, the rocks vanished alongside the water and flames. You winced in agony.

A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "I may be a little witch, but I'm not to be underestimated," you declared, your voice steady.

Unique's eyes widened in surprise, clearly impressed by your display of power. He circled around the forcefield, studying it with curiosity and admiration.

The elements vanished right before your very eyes, no longer in your clutch.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled, his voice laced with both intrigue and desire.

"You've piqued my interest, Y/N. It seems you're not as defenseless as I thought."

You held your ground, refusing to let his words intimidate you. "I won't let you kill me," you stated firmly.

"I don't want to kill you. I want you to be mine." he whispered, his voice filled with a dangerous edge.

“I know what you’re after, my blood. You want to suck me dry and leave me here to die as I turn to dust right Unique?” you asked, you took a look at your bruised palms.

By now, you were aware of his intentions - he simply craved to suck you dry until you couldn't breathe any longer. Until you were eroding away from existence, You were the vulnerable target, and he was the relentless hunter. You weren't stupid, you knew how this played out.

You plopped on the light green loveseat resting against the wall with your face resting in your hands, You felt blood trickle down your right cheek with the intense heat coursing through your arm, you hissed in pain and touched the bruise on your forearm.

Obviously, he was able to control himself completely

from the divine scent of your blood. He wouldn't bite you or taste you without your permission. Unique wasn't that cruel to mere mortals who roamed this planet.

Were you that powerless? Has all the training and dedication gone to waste in the battle? have you failed your ancestors from the heavens who looked down on you in utter disappointment? Perhaps they were discussing how your powers could've been more adequate. Would they lament at your abilities if they were here on earth?

Perhaps getting the new powers and strength from Unique could have been the solution, as he skillfully countered all of your best moves. So, what prevented you from taking advantage? It was your own pride.

The questions flowed into the depths of your mind, until you looked up at him as you absentmindedly patted the vacant spot beside you on the loveseat, inviting him over to sit with you. He strode across the room and plopped on the seat next to you, his brown eyes studying your saddened face.

“I'm not that cruel Y/N, I'm that way only for those who deserve it. I'm sure your ancestors are very proud of you.” He reassured, gently nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

“How can you be sure? You've blocked all my moves..”

“Come on girl, don't beat yourself up. I was very impressed by your power…”

“Do you truly want a relationship with me?” your eyes locked with his, making sure that there was sincerity in them.

“Of course I do but the choice is yours..” he replied, You pondered deeply on the choice, You took a deep breath, considering his words.

The decision weighed heavily on your shoulders, but deep down, you knew that you were drawn to him for a reason. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was something more.

"Alright, I’ll be yours then. Together, we will possess unimaginable power and we will always have each other," you whispered, resting your head on his strong shoulder.

"May I touch you?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

"Yes, you may," you replied, your heart racing with excitement.

"Your every desire is my command, princess," he said, his voice deepened. Gently, he lifted your chin, his eyes locked with yours.

As he held your chin between his thumb and index finger, he noticed a scratch on your face. "You have a mark on your pretty face, my love," he remarked.

Your cheeks flushed at his tender touch. "Can you heal it for me?" you inquired, your brown eyes fixed on his deep brown ones.

"Of course, beautiful. Just relax for me," he reassured you soothingly.

He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the spot where the scratch marred your skin. His tongue delicately gliding across the wound, and a warm, tingling sensation spread throughout your body. A shiver ran down your spine, and a soft moan escaped your lips as he healed you. The yellow sparkles scattered on your rich ebony complexion, and Unique's plump lips savored the taste of your blood. He let out a low groan, intoxicated by the flavor filling his mouth.

A shiver ran down your spine as his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull between the two of you, he gently pecked the bruise on your forearm as the dark purple wound faded away.

“Are you sure about this Y/N..”

“I’m sure, I trust you.”

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses on your deep ebony skin. The combination of his touch and the taste of your blood sent a rush of desire coursing through your veins.

You let out a gasp of pleasure as his sharp fangs grazed against your skin, teasingly close to piercing your flesh. Fueling your masochism with his bite, plunging his fangs into your neck as the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and yet, you found yourself craving more.

As he drank from you, you could feel your own power merging with his. The connection between you two grew stronger with each passing moment, until it felt as if you were one entity, bound together by an unbreakable bond. Your teeth sharpened quickly with your palm resting on the nape of his neck.

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me…”

Unique delicately released his hold on you, planting two quick kisses on the twin bite marks adorning your neck. He flashed a mischievous grin your way, his eyes sparkling with playful intent.

"Tell me, my sweet, how shall I bind you?" he inquired, his lips curling into a sly smile.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "I've always been curious about Shibari," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"But I don't want to be hanging from the ceiling. Instead, I want to be seated on your lap..." You trailed off, a nervous giggle escaping your lips as you bit down on them.

"As you wish, sweetheart. Let's explore this together," he purred, his eyes locking with yours.

Unique skillfully snapped his fingers, causing thin black ropes to appear in his hands while a mischievous smirk adorned his face. In response, both of you swiftly hurled off your clothes, flinging them carelessly onto the floor.

“Let me know if I'm hurtin' you or if it's too rough, I'll stop okay?” he reassured, He gently held your hand while planting a gentle kiss on your palm before kissing your lips.

“Okay..” you spoke softly, nodding your head at him.

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Orange…”

He delicately raised you and placed you on his lap, then flowed to attach the black ropes around your wrists and breasts, binding your hands behind your back. Meanwhile, he tenderly planted two kisses on your lips, all while his hands firmly grasped your hips and lifted you, ensuring you were facing him.

He hoisted you upwards to ensure that you faced him forward. Gradually, he lowered you onto his thick manhood, Unique hissed sharply and his eyes fluttered open, a low ‘fuck’ left his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure.

“Fuck..Kadeem..” you moaned softly, the words escaping you, You move your hips gently against him, as his hands hold your hips and gradually guide you down to feel every inch. “You’re such a good girl Y/N..” he groaned in your ear, his praise gave you an intense thrill, he utterly filled you up. You started to vigorously bounce on him, feeling alternating waves of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. The ropes around you grew tighter as you let out increasingly inhumane moans.

He gently placed his hand on your hip while his other hand gently moved in circles over your breast, with his index finger and thumb giving a firm pull to your nipple. Meanwhile, his thumb continued to trace circles around your nipple. When he unleashed his powers, the temperature plummeted to its lowest point, coursing through his fingertips and causing your nipple to freeze from his icy caress.

“Ssss…fuck!” you hissed with pleasure, riding him faster and harder. They both desired each other intensely, but there was a newfound exhilaration in the control and satisfaction you felt. His hand delivered a firm smack on your ass while he watched your juices gush all over on his dick. He grunted deeply from your wet walls hugging tightly around his length as he pushed himself harder, Unique carried you to the bed and laid you on your back, sliding himself back into you.

His hand latched around your neck with the ropes around your frame tightening again, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Your moans echoed through the room. “Look at you wettin’ up my dick like a needy lil’ slut.” he whispers, his hips pushed roughly upwards, referring to your wetness flowing smoothly between your thighs while your juices flowed down to his balls. “Y-you’re so big..” you moaned softly, Once more, his grip tightened around your throat as his hand vigorously struck your ass, leaving fresh marks from his nails on your thick thighs and curvaceous hips.

With each rough thrust, the bed groaned in response, echoing the passion that filled the room. "I...I'm cumming." you managed to gasp between breaths, your voice shaking. He pushed his hips harder, driving you closer to the edge, and released his grip on your throat. His lips wrapped around your nipple, suckling your breasts selfishly yet filled with deep, unspoken love.

"Don't you fuckin’ cum until I say so," Unique groaned, his voice rumbling with dominance. His thumb circled your throbbing clit, boosting the pleasure that consumed you. The overwhelming stimulation pushed you to the brink, and you cried out with choked out sobs. The ropes that bound you added a thrilling sense of restraint to Unique's rough yet tender strokes.

"I won't, baby! Fuck!" you managed to slur, your words muffled by the overwhelming ecstasy that enveloped you. You were lost in a sea of pleasure. Drool escaped your lips as he planted his plump lips against yours, showering you with kisses until they were swollen. He hovered over you, his deep ebony skin slick of sweat glistening in the soft glow of the ceiling lights.

"Can you please untie me Nique?" you pleaded, your voice raspy with desire. A wave of pleasure washed over you, causing your body to tremble beneath him. With your new vampire powers, you were able to hold on to your climax. He couldn't get enough of you, he adorned every curve and roll along your body, he kissed every single one lovingly, you couldn't think straight but you wanted to touch him so badly, “Of course I can, beautiful..” he cooed, pecking your lips.

He began to untie the ropes, his touch sending shivers down your spine. each knot was undone and tossed the ropes across the bedroom floor, the tension in your body released, and left a few rope lines around your body.

“Come here…” you whispered, you reached out and pulled Unique towards you, your hands roaming over his muscular chest and down his back. He slid his dick between your wet, swollen folds, you shivered from your lover filling up again, the both of you groaned blissfully, he inhaled sharply, His skin was warm beneath your fingertips as he resumed his rough strokes, earning more of your unholy moans and you reveled in the sensation of his body against yours.

He gripped your arms tightly with his nails digging into the marks left by the thin rope, causing you immense pain, “ouu..shit! Shit!” you hissed with moans of pleasure, You winced in agony, stimulating his sadistic side which prompted a cunning grin and a moan. He planted kisses on your jawline, glancing at your fucked out face as he took pleasure in watching you.

“Your pretty pussy is callin’ out to me..” he grunted deeply, his thick wad of cum splattered into you, combining with your warm essence, creating a pool around his dick on the bed sheets. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room with each rough thrust.

Unique grunted and moaned deeply with intensity as the seamless motion of your slick walls hugging around his dick tightly, his tip kissing your cervix with bridled passion. your hands gripped his back tightly, resulting in crescent-shaped marks from your nails on his skin, while you screamed out in immense pleasure that echoed towards the heavens.

You almost went crazy as you whined softly and broke down in bliss beneath him, feeling knots tighten up in the depths of your gut. “I-i gotta cum! Please!” you begged with a sob, He comforted you by kissing your tears, but his thrusts became jagged. Your lips formed a pout and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, while he wiped your tears with his thumb and kissed your cheek twice. At the same time, his index finger gently rubbed your sensitive nub in circles again.

“You can cum baby girl..i'm right behind you..” he whispered, his voice filled with affection. The words sent a surge of pleasure through your body, and you let go, your juices splattered around his dick completely. Unique followed suit by pouring his thick warm cum into you, "Fuck..." he groaned lowly. he pushed every drop of his seed into you to make sure there wasn't a trickle out of your pussy, your bodies shook together with the heat rising between you.

The waves of pleasure gradually subsided, leaving you both breathless and spent. Unique collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You turned to him, Tears rolled down your cheeks from pleasure and raw emotion as his thumb wiped your tears away. "You okay?" he asked softly, His face softened in concern.

“y-yeah, you wore me out baby..” you panted, nodding at him. snuggling closer to him with your head resting on his chest.

You were aware that your newfound existence as a vampire and witch was quite unusual, yet Unique was there by your side throughout the entire journey. You peacefully drifted into slumber, your eyelids gradually descended. He lovingly planted a tender kiss on your forehead, joining you in a tranquil sleep.

—————

[lou-struck]

Just Take One

Mammon x reader

Flufftober Day 1- Candy Bowl

WC: 1.6k

~ You take Mammon out Trick or Treating for the first time and his Greed catches up with him in the sweetest way possible.

Your time as an exchange student in the Devildom has made the unusual, a usual occurrence in your life. You have grown accustomed to Witches, Wizards, Vampires, Angels, Demons, and other creatures passing you in the streets of the Devildom.

But now, you are back in the human world on Hallows Eve. 

The Devildom celebrates Halloween, of course, but Trick or Treating isn’t really a thing; instead of going door to door accepting treats from Demons and Incubi, everyone dons their favorite costumes and parties till dawn.

But when Mammon heard that in the human world, you go door to door getting free candy from Humans, The Avatar of Greed got a special kind of glint in his sapphire eyes, the kind that he gets when he comes up with a Get rich quick scheme. and begged you to take him out Trick Or Treating. 

Although his intentions were not exactly noble, you found yourself unable to say no to the Great Mammon’s pleading gaze.

So now you find yourself wearing a witch costume belonging to one of Asmodeus’s past lovers as Mammon shifts into his Demon form. The green light from the portal shines on both your faces, glowing brighter and brighter as it swallows the two of you whole.

~

The portal pops the two of you to a human world suburb. Each and every house on the street is covered in decorative cobwebs, lights, and ghoulish decorations. 

The air is crisp and smells like apples and cinnamon as you walk down the street. “Are ya sure it’s alright for me to be out like this?” Mammon asks, catching a look at his horned reflection staring back at him. 

“Don’t worry, Mammon, Halloween is the night of the year that demons can blend in with the rest of the Human world. People will just think that you are wearing a really good costume.” You explain passing a group of teenage girls who cannot keep their eyes off of the handsome Demon. 

The sun has hardly set, but trick-or-treaters are out and about too focused on the prospect of free candy to notice the subtle magic happening right in front of them.

A little group of superheroes passes the two of you with their pumpkin buckets half full of candy.

“Do we need those to get our candy?” Mammon asks, his little wings twitching in anticipation; maybe it’s not just the grimm he’s excited for.

 “We will need something, but those buckets don’t hold a lot of candy.” you say, “and I hope you’ll give some to Beel when you get back; he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, but then I’ll really need something bigger,” he says dejectedly, furrowing his brows in thought. 

“No worries, I got us covered,” you say happily, reaching out into your bag and pulling out two large pillowcases.

“That’s smart,” the Demon says. Most likely imagining how much candy he could fit inside the sheet. “I’ll make a killing on these human world treats when we get back to the Devildom, just like that Kitkat you had in your…” Mammon tries to cut himself off, but the damage has been done.”

“My Kitkat?” you say sharply, knowing the king-sized bar you thought you brought back from the Human world the last time you visited. But when the time came to unpack, it wasn’t in your bag.” You sold my KitKat?”

His eyes go wide as he frantically tries to come up with an excuse. But he can’t. Not when it’s you.” S-sorry Mc. I meant to tell ya, but I forgot.”

You roll your eyes and give him a hard yet playful flick to the forehead. “It’s fine, but you owe me,” 

I’ll give ya all the KitKats in my bag.” He offers as if he hasn’t just confessed to stealing your treat moments before. 

“That, and I get to pick from whatever king-size bars you get tonight.” you counter; he opens his mouth to counter but can’t seem to disagree with you.

“Fine, ya win. But don’t tell anyone the Great Mammon has gone soft.” he huffs, twisting the empty off-white pillowcase in his tanned hands. 

We’ll come on then; we have a lot of houses to hit if we want to fill our bags. You grin, reaching your free hand over to grab his other hand that is not holding a pillowcase, and drag the now-blushing Demon towards the first of many houses.

~

The two of you have been at it for an hour now and, despite your age, have amassed quite a large amount of candy. A few homes actually gave the two of you bigger handfuls since your costumes were so ‘authentic.’ Elderly ladies, especially, thought Mammon was the sweetest young man they had ever seen and poured a big portion of their bowl into his pillowcase with a giggle and a wink.

In the back of your mind, you wonder how quickly those little smiles would disappear if they were to discover it was a real demon on their doorsteps, not a costumed one.

He hasn’t noticed it yet, but the pillowcase you gave him was enchanted by Solomon to never fill completely. As you watch a teenager boredly dump some candy into the pillowcase, you bite the inside of your cheek. The pillowcase would’ve been great to have when you were younger, for sure.

Forty or so houses down the line, the two of you come across a sparsely decorated porch with a large bowl of candy left out on the welcome mat. 

Two things capture your attention. The first being a simply penned sign taped to the front of the dark plastic. 

‘Please Take One

The second is the mechanical candy arm that looms ominous over the bowl of sweets, threatening to clamp down on whatever crosses its path. You remember these from Halloween’s past; they are motion-activated and grab hands that move past them as a harmless little Halloween trick.

It’s obviously there to protect the bowl. But Mammon’s greed has him incapable of focusing on anything but the bowl of candy in front of him.

“Mc, we can empty this whole thing, and no one would know.” He grins, taking a step on the wooden porch. The boards creak slightly under his boots as he strides over to the bowl.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mammon,” you warn, reaching into the back pocket of your costume to take out your DDD. If this thing is going to go down the way you think it will, you are sure Lucifer and the others would love to see it caught on video.

He turns and looks back at you confidently, “Ya worry too much, Mc.” he beams, puffing out his chest. “Silly Humans knew what was we’re gonna do the minute they chose to leave the candy out here.”

“Alright, Mammon, if that’s really what you wanna do, then I won’t stop you.” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders in mock surrender, making sure to hide the camera lens sneakily behind the pillowcase to capture all the action. 

Mammon reaches for the edge of the candy bowl, his fingers carelessly knocking over the little sign. 

All of a sudden, a ghoulish, shrinking sound erupts from the bowl, and the mechanical arm swats down into the bowl. Mammon yelps in fright, dropping the bowl and his pillowcase of candy onto the porch. Candy goes flying everywhere, landing on the wood with a thud. A look of fear in his eyes as he turns tail and runs toward you, his wings flapping frantically as he reaches for you. “Mc, we gotta go; that thing is possessed or somethin.”

He grabs you firmly by the arm and tries to pull you to safety, but your feet stay firmly planted on the ground. You end the recording and laugh, “Mammon, look, it’s okay; it was only a prank.” you say, pointing back at the bowl that continues its mechanical movements. The little hand flailing around robotically. 

“What kind of prank was that?” he breathes out exasperatedly as you guide him back to the front porch. “The thing almost killed me.”

“Nope, you’re fine,” you respond, grinning at his over-the-top exaggeration. Knowing he has been subjected to harsher punishments back in the Devildom than just a mechanical slap on the wrist. 

Mammon’s cheeks are pink as he sheepishly walks back up to the porch to get his pillowcase, picking up the fallen candy bars from the bowl along the way. “Ya could’ve warned me.” He huffs, setting the candy bowl upright and replacing the collected candy inside it. The mechanical hand goes off again, causing Mammon to flinch slightly. But when the little hand barely taps him, he lets out a laugh. 

“See, that wasn’t terrible now, was it?” you tease, ruffling the snow-white hair between his curly horns. “Should we get going to the next house, or are you too scared?”

“That was nothin,” he laughs, taking two pieces of candy from the bowl and tossing one over to you. “The Chiuauuah hits harder than that thing. Let’s go, Mc. We got a big night ahead of us.” He steps off the porch and looks eagerly at the rows and rows of houses beyond. Each one promises candy and future riches for the both of you.

“Sounds good to me,” you say, taking his hand and letting him lead you towards the next house. In the back of your mind, you wonder what other funny little videos you can take of Mammon to show everyone once you get back. 

Tagging: @eussstasss @enchantedforest-network

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

First off, love your writing, IT MAKES ME FEEL THINGS😭😭 but…

Can we please get more of yandre emo boy Ashton I JUST READ IT AND IM DROOLING SCREAMING CRYING GIGGLING AMD KICKING MY FEET😭🧎‍♀️🤪🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

THANK YOU❤️❤️🤭🤭🤭

(If not that’s okay, ignore this bae🫶)

Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo and his beloved popular bitch

Ayo, thank you for the compliment! I'm glad my writings made you feel things (I don't know what though LMAO)

Actually, I'm not planning to follow up Ashton, but hey, at least it would break my writer's block (lol it's just laziness) so here ya go!

Sorry that it took days though 😔

FOR THIS ONE, I RECOMMEND READING THE FIC FIRST BEFORE THE DRABBLE (this one).

Read the yandere emo fic here!

💌Little Ashton was misunderstood a lot as a child. He never really liked the same things the other children liked, and he had this morbid curiosity with death and occult.

💌Of course, this undoubtedly scared his family, making him out to be some sort of psychopath.

💌This irked Ashton of course. He's just... That. He still loves his parents, and nothing would change that.

💌But the fact that they're so conservative that it's actually bringing Ashton down is what drove him over the edge to find a school far, far away from his family.

💌A small, quaint town, yet filled with teenagers. It was kind of a nightmare when Ashton found out, but he gritted his teeth and thought that maybe, with the current years, maybe they won't judge him. Maybe.

💌So, he indulged more in his Emo lifestyle. He religiously listened to green day, Panic! At the Disco, My Chemical Romance...

💌He even got into writing poems as a way to put out his feelings that he never got to tell other people.

💌 He's actually very sensitive with emotions and feelings. So technically, he should be a great friend candidate, right?

💌But once he got into the school year, that's when he knew, that his life would be living hell. Stereotypes left and right. Mean cheerleaders and jocks that ostracized his choice of clothing, snobby rich students that turn their noses on him just because he's not that rich, geeks and nerds that keeps getting in his way, thinking he's one of them.

💌"Fuck. Get me out of here. Nobody understands me."

💌He didn't realize himself, but he's also slowly being a stereotype. Always alone, writing poems, and being unnecessarily nihilistic.

💌Until of course, one day, you transfered. You, your pink rover, and your slutty little outfit.

💌God, just looking at you and your charming personality made Ashton hard fall for you.

💌He wants you. So bad.

💌So he dabbled back into the occults. He found an old book in an abandoned "witch's hut" that he went on a mad hunt for weeks. Apparently, the witch that lived there was a matchmaker witch, who gave love potions to those really desperate.

💌At first, Ashton didn't believe it. Especially that it involves sampaguita, a flower not native to his town. How did the witch even get the flowers?

💌But there he was, mixing and creating the potion under the moonlight and putting your hair and his in the pot. Creating a love potion that smelled like the sampaguitas he had to smuggle in.

💌He wrote you letters everyday, obsessing and hyper fixating on your allure and beauty. Confessing over and over again on paper that looks old and aged with writing that looks like it came from a fountain pen. With a spritz of the love potion, he would put it in your locker.

💌God, who knew that it would work?

💌Day by day, he watched you read the letters. At first, you were disgusted (much to his dismay) but slowly, you started to read the letters with a neutral face, then a smile, then with a squeal and then a desperate plea for him to come and fuck you already.

💌Maybe putting his... Semen on your love potion got you desperate for him carnally, rather than romantically.

💌But no fretting, he would just make you fall for him.

💌And as you moan and scream out his name as he pounds into your tight hole like the feral, fuck machine he is,

💌He was pleading to the moon to see his bleeding heart and bare soul to make you his.

💌And if the moon won't allow it,

💌Well, it's nothing more love potions won't do.

💌"my beloved, why don't you drink this sweet tea I made? Why is it pink and smells floral? It's a new tea from Japan. Sakura, from what I know. It's glowing? Nonsense, love. It's probably just the lighting."

💌"Now drink up, don't let a drop go to waste."

[tea-and-secrets]

im super obsessed with 'becoming' different people online. i have a deviantart account where i pretend to be a transfemme she/zhe teenager who enjoys drawing cats and the color pink (none of this particularly applies to me). i had an amino account where i was a he/they baby witch who was too shy to hold a conversation but loved answering questions. hell i have a roblox account where i play stereotypical 'girly' games and my name is a very basic girl name, and i act snotty and rude (but i know when to back down or apologise). i have several more but they actually have a following and i dont wanna risk exposing myself. i tried doing like, real roleplay, but it didnt have the same heft to it. so i make my silly little accounts with silly little characters and im having so much fun. i have gotten two love confessions over my years of doing it. i have so many friends, none of them know. in fact, the typing style im using here is not my main/normal one! it is the one i use for 1 of my accs tho lol

.

[foreficfandom]

POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (ch. 2 - "Flashbacks")

(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader) (AO3)

Alastor was always a man who craved control and attention. Ninety-odd years of being a demon has long since mutated his mortal desires into a festering appetite. While he was alive, it was a very mundane longing for the spotlight. Being the sought-after host of his own radio show was as close as being his own boss he could realistically hope for. The masses could listen and fawn over his charisma and humor while ignorant of his champagne hue.

If he wanted more, he would have to turn to drastic measures.

Young Alastor had made the station affluent, so they could afford to get their hands on any show recording they wished. One autumn, they aired The Witch’s Tale, a trailblazer for being the first horror-themed show on the radio. It garnered controversy from the conservative crowd, but ratings didn’t lie. New Orleans loved the series.

Alastor relayed the local news in his typical rapid-fire speech, a fashionable showman’s chatter made even faster thanks to his Creole blood, and as he speed-read his script in real time, he recited a quick advertisement for Madame Jones’ Hot Comb Oil before running the magnetic carbon ribbons of The Witch’s Tale. Voices of the actors took over the air. He drew a breath from a cigarette and leaned back on his chair. Alastor’s voice was now due for a rest until the current tape ran dry.

This was his first time hearing the show as well. Short horror tales were narrated by a fictional character named Old Nancy, one of the witches from Salem. The first tale was of a Venus statue come to life to slay the son of its sculptor, the second adapted from the real life confessions of the convicted Scottish witch Isobel Gowdie, the third clearly ripped off from Stevenson’s The Bottle Imp, and so on. After each tape, Alastor came back on the air for more news, advertisements, and the occasional social commentary. A quick joke about the Nipponese making waves on the West coast, a little update on McKinley’s first year back in office.

If he were to be candid, each episode of The Witch’s Tale was a gamble of hit or miss. Some were near contrived. But a few were quite satisfactory.

Most interesting was the narrator. After each tale, Old Nancy would reveal a bit more of her backstory. She never married. She grew her own food and earned her own money selling poultices. She may or may not have slept with both men and women. Her cat was a demon familiar. Her house was constructed partly from the bones of her victims.

Alastor found himself lost in thought. A young maiden, a pregnant mother, and an old widow swam through his mind. But the fourth woman … standing apart from the others, free from the grasp of a husband’s heavy greedy fist, proudly dangerous. A woman alone, but free. The maiden, matron, and crone, and now the witch.

Suddenly, Alastor saw himself repeated four times in place of the women. He was the scrawny teenage boy, then his current self, then a wizened old man, and in place of the witch was this enchanting visage of his long-lived personal fantasy, chest thrust upwards and smile brazen.

He tapped his fingers against his stomach as a strange thought overtook him. Could one become the witch?

Could Alastor be truly free from the Man’s grasp?

Hidden deep in the winding alleyways of New Orleans, voodoo was still going strong despite the coppers’ efforts. When mother was still alive, she would buy dry goods and miscellaneous wares from a small negro outlet run by Haitian immigrants, and locals knew that the shop’s upstairs hid a small voodoo church, an open secret amongst those uninterested in contacting police for any reason, even if they themselves weren’t practitioners.

Alastor knew nothing of voodoo. Mother was Lutheran, father had apparently been a loose Catholic. Church Sundays had tapered off by the time Alastor was nine, as did house praying aside from Christmas eve, and mother was near illiterate so there was no Bible reading. He never asked her if she was still faithful after dropping the more superfluous habits. Alastor’s heart ached at the thought of mother barred from the gates of Heaven.

He heard the horror stories of this dread voodoo religion. He, himself, has recited many sensational reports of sacrificial rituals and cannibalistic orgies, almost certainly all fear-mongering bullshit, but plenty enough believed that voodoo witches and warlocks used a black magic. Cursing good Christian families to die of plague, using living shadows to ensnare children away, poppets with needles, sigils that glow, that sort of malarkey.

If I could curse people, or control a tangible shadow, it would be a right gasser, he thought to himself.

A steady list of potential victims formed in his mind. Number one, the man who abandoned his wife and child to a stricken life of poverty. Just harmless daydreaming. Maybe.

Alastor used to say to himself, ‘thank God’ that mother was such a genius, otherwise they’d never have survived.

He wonders if he would soon be swearing different oaths.

—

To your nose, virginity didn’t have a strong smell or energy, but innocence did. The first time the two of you met, you had sensed Alastor’s putrid, gore-soaked body roaming the hotel long before he could sense you approaching the front door, although you allowed him to believe he had the upper hand. Murderers, especially those who lusted, were very blatant. A subtle pang told you that Alastor didn’t lust for flesh like many men did. His body smelled virgin, but more telling, his powers would not be affected should that come to change. After all, only someone uncaring of an aspiration would not evolve from achieving it.

Alastor was not innocent. Not like princess Charlie. Not like the children sinner souls.

He may not have a clue what Angel Dust meant by wearing a “special sort of ring ”, but hunger had many forms.

Flesh, blood, and bone were common sacrifices made to manifest power. A human’s physiology cultivated some of its greatest energy from fats and protein, so it made sense why Alastor’s curse would force him to fuel by consuming meat. But if he were in kinder circumstances, he might have instead been encouraged to eat any other sort of matter, or not fuel himself through food at all.

Clearly, Alastor’s debtors wanted to corrupt the man beyond what murder would do to his mind and soul. The more Alastor killed, the more he ate, the more powerful he grew, and the more he’d need to eat. He became a slave to his appetite.

You wondered if it was because they couldn’t affect him through his loins, so they chose the closest alternative.

In any case, Alastor did resent his need for nourishment, just not nearly as much as he resented the actual chains. It helped that he has always found fulfillment in creating, eating, and sharing food, and there was a very good place in Hell for that kind of attitude.

Cannibal Town didn’t become a proper, distinct district until Overlord Rosie’s rise to status. The industrial revolution had created a great epidemic of poverty, and many struggling in the developing American frontier had turned to cannibalizing the dead to survive, from the children to the elderly, only tapering off when a successful ‘20’s economy rose to the rescue. Rosie turned the predominant Edwardian-era population into its current image. Walking through Cannibal Town’s streets of petticoats and boater hats, it was like stepping back into one of your past lifetimes as a New Yorker under Taft, watching Florence Lawrence in picture shows and seeing oreo cookies on the shelves for the first time.

In fact, ‘oreo’ biscuits were sold in Cannibal Town, imitating their original tin box packaging, but they were made with rendered human fat rather than pork tallow. Rosie wanted her people to embrace their partaking, rather than languish in their past sins, or hide their undying appetite. Human flesh wasn’t an addictive substance, but cannibalism certainly was. It was as habit forming as any other ritual gesture, like how Vaggie wakes up in the morning to tie her hair ribbon right-over-left, or how Husk always arranges the bar’s bottle storage just so, or how Alastor uses an old pewter pot to boil his coffee over the stove fire. Many of these antiquated cannibals treat their slaying, butchering, and eating with the same love they used to have for the Eucharist.

Alastor’s affinity for Cannibal Town wasn’t quite because he felt kinship between their cannibalism. Fondness for Rosie aside, it was the best source of properly prepared human meat for sale, trimmed and bled as thoroughly as venison chuck. Passionate cook he may be, but he never had the patience for true butchering. Especially whilst mortal, and in Hell, a victim could easily be ten feet tall with several limbs. Who aside from the butcher had time to set aside eight hours for that?

No, Alastor’s reasons and fondness for partaking wasn’t commonly shared amongst the Cannibal Town locals. Most likened it to a sexual gratification. Many saw it as an alternative way to rape the weak. Some saw it as their only outlet for frustration. Some just wanted to fit in.

And to them, cannibalism was a very social hobby. Proper ladies found great sisterhood in tearing into a corpse like starving wolves, respectable men could now exercise their libido amongst other men by delving deep into flesh as a group. But whilst Alastor, too, socialized through food, eating mortal flesh was his curse, not his indulgence.

You knew for a fact that ever since the inception of his deal, Alastor's clause for cannibalism would quickly morph into an honest taste for it, but Alastor could only hypothesize if that was the case, or he just simply lost his mind sometime after his fourth killing.

Alastor shook himself out of his reverie as he approached the door to his favorite Cannibal Town grocer, you following close behind. He had been finding himself lost in his own thoughts more and more often, lately. No doubt due to your influence.

He could have shut down in complete bewilderment, but he was Alastor, damn it all, so he will garner the bravery to take the next step forward, then the step after that, and so on.

Towards a brighter future, he dared to hope.

He opened the door for you, and the two of you entered the little store. Like all grocers before the ‘50’s, the wares weren’t self-serve. Alastor summoned a paper list, and read off what he wanted to purchase. The mustached shopkeeper brought forward each item onto the counter before ringing them up on the register, using an old exertion scale for the fresh goods. A pound of dried red beans, a rasher of salted belly, a loaf of sugar, three pounds worth of scrap shin bones, and four red capsicums. You noticed that the capsicums - the bell peppers - were the smaller, pointier variety sold during Alastor’s lifetime, before cultivation increased their size and yield. Likewise, the sugar loaf was compressed into an old-fashioned triangular cone, wrapped in paper, not a pure white but a light flaxy yellow from its residue molasses. All the manufacturer’s labels were a parody of their living equivalents. The burlap sack of Camellia-brand kidney beans was of a bloody heart with green, thorny vines named “Carnillia”, instead of the original round flower.

The shopkeeper wrapped the raw meats into their own smaller bag. It went unsaid, but they were obviously human remains. You reached forwards to carry the groceries whilst Alastor was occupied with paying, but then said to you, “Nonsense, dear,” and reclaimed the load in a gentlemanly manner. A polite, but largely useless gesture, as it’d take monolithic mass to truly test your physical prowess, and Alastor had his own increased strength as an Overlord.

In fact, the last time you struggled to carry an object with all your true power, it had created a black hole where it fell.

Part of Alastor’s original deal for power was certainly to improve his meager physical ability, as he was like many young men who pictured their ideal self boasting some petal to the metal. His lean muscles did not swell, and he couldn’t bench-press an automobile, but he did find a great force behind his punches, and his running speed, and even when he twisted open a pickle jar. It had been a relatively mundane boon compared to his showier magic, but the knowledge that you couldn’t be physically overtaken was intoxicatingly empowering. Alastor finally understood why burly brutes acted so brazen, even if his silhouette didn’t display it.

Yes, his original deal was as righteous as any young person’s plea for bravery. But whilst some may only ask for a sword, he had asked for a legion.

And by mother’s grave, he got it.

Father had been his original sacrifice. He tracked down the drunkard squatting in a Chalmette hobo jungle, and knifed him in the belly until the wretch’s blood flow slowed to a crawl. He spent all night dragging the corpse across town and to the lake, right where the most notorious of voodoo orgies were said to take place, and mimicked the manbo’s ceremony, finger painting vèvè before shouting - begging, screaming, really - for anybody or anything to answer him.

He always tries to avoid remembering what came next.

Mother hadn’t passed, yet, but she was on her deathbed. She had been fighting scarlet fever for weeks, and pneumonia had developed. Alastor himself had a brief sick spell due to contamination, but he refused to move out of the house. If his mother was about to leave this world, he wanted to be there.

Mother’s pauper’s burial was baptized in Alastor’s second killing. A eugenic small-time politician one neighborhood over, who would have never achieved his meager position if it wasn’t for connections, thanks to the scandal of marrying his fourteen-year-old niece. For this attack, Alastor let his new powers bloom freely, but his inexperience left the corpse a complete mangled mess. Indeed, the shocking state of the body was what first sparked rumors of the Butcher Of New Orleans. Named so because of the man’s conspicuously missing flesh and organs, leading the police to rightly profile the suspect as a cannibal.

Life went on. Alastor’s mind and mood matured, and he hit his stride. He grew from radio host to radio star. He made plenty of honest friendships. He found innocent fun, and also learned to refine his not-so-innocent ones. By age 37, Alastor had a celebrity career, a Cadillac automobile, a sparkling reputation, and a total body count of twenty-eight men.

A month before he would turn 38, he found himself in hell. He remembered that his first action was to look around, expecting to see his father as if the man would, by chance, be standing on the nearby street corner. He looked up, and saw the glowing celestial body that must be heaven, high above and unreachable.

He wondered if mother was simultaneously looking down. Or was she still waiting for her dutiful son to show up and join her? Alastor had made great effort to ensure that mother never knew of how much of a monster her son really was.

Slowly coming back to the present, Alastor found himself wistfully looking at the morning sky as the two of you waited for traffic to halt. The haloed planisphere was partially hidden by daytime cloud cover, but one could spot the ever present gateway to heaven just about visible.

You followed Alastor’s gaze to the skies above. As remote as heaven may seem to the eye, you knew that it wasn’t a matter of distance. After all, heaven and hell weren’t places. They were states of being. You told him so last night, since he was under the impression that with just enough power, he could track down his debtor.

Unfortunately, if a suitably powerful being didn’t want to be found, no amount of searching would work.

He had bristled at that, fur on his ears standing, and paced away.

Then spun around with renewed, fake bravado, and said he would lure them here.

“How?” you asked.

He had no idea, but just twirled his cane into both hands with a closed eye grin. Apparently, he’d think of something.

Before the night concluded, he told you that all these earth-shattering revelations would have to be mulled over a hefty serving of his favorite comfort food, so you and him would dine privately a stew of baked beans. An especially fatty and. Well. Cannibalistic recipe of his.

So it came to be that the two of you left the hotel early next morning for some shopping, which of course caught the eye of nearby Niffty, who would most certainly be relaying the latest gossip to everyone else.

Let them talk. Alastor loved being the hottest gossip topic, and the friendships you choose to keep are yours alone.

Of course, most of them suspected that there was more than friendship involved. Not the wording you’d choose, but perhaps it wasn’t inaccurate.

There was divinity between the two of you, now. Every time you’ve muddled in mortal affairs, great cosmic connections formed between your souls. Inevitable, considering who you were, but they often had great repercussions. You considered every one of them worth the trouble.

That afternoon, the two of you entered the kitchen once more, but this time you stood by and watched as Alastor prepared a kettle to hang over his fireplace. Per his request (demands), you arrived to his room at eight on the dot to his little table set with sliced bread and a decanter of whiskey. The pocket swamp beyond was darkened and dotted with lazy fireflies. A radio station played, but not from the two sat on his bookshelf, nor emitting from Alastor himself, just directionless in the air as if the room itself breathed radio.

“Please, come on in,” he bowed, just a tad overweening. Say what you will about the man, he bounces back from existential despair pretty gracefully.

One of the seats slid out on its own accord. You sat obligingly to the tantalizing smell of spice, partially masking your ability to detect the human remains in the stew. As Alastor sat across from you, the disembodied radio chatter in the air twitched frequencies to instead play a wordless ballad.

“I took the liberty of choosing tonight’s choice of drink,” he said, pouring whiskey for the both of you. “I know it’s a bit early in the evening for the mule, but indulge this pitiful sinner.”

“It’s your meal, after all.” And true enough, Alastor stood no ceremony in digging a spoon deep into his bowl. Alcohol had its particular effects on you, so you reversed the fermentation of your whiskey into a poof of evaporated ethanol and a wet pile of sugar, mostly to amuse yourself, also to sneak a pinch of malt into your bow to cut some of the fat. Alastor had made the stew so rich, you could probably alchemize a toddler from the lipids.

You watched as Alastor relished deeply in his first spoonful. Fats, you remembered, was sometimes a more affordable grocery than sugar or flour, depending on the slaughter season. A poor Alastor would have grown up being treated to cheap, streaky bacon more often than beignets or hot cocoa.

“Just as mother made it,” he sighed wistfully, as if reading your mind. Far from the first time he’s mentioned his mother aloud, but before it had always been a set up for a jape, his comedian nature never at rest, and not unfiltered sentimentality. He must know that it was useless to hide secrets from you.

You forwent the malt sugar to taste the dish as it was intended. Surprisingly, it was shockingly laced with pure intentions that caressed your tongue and made tears well up behind your eyes. You didn’t think Alastor was capable of it.

It tasted like love.

Maybe he had more of a chance than you first thought.

—

Supper continued throughout the night. Alastor downed one, two, and was working on his third bowl before the conversation turned to the elephant in the room.

“- and when I kill the wretches souls who’ve clipped me like a duckling, I’ll -”

“Cool the jets, Alastor. We’d have to find them, first.” You stepped in before he could wind himself up.

“See, I’ve been thinking,” he took a hearty swig from his third glass of whiskey, "take it from a man with a couple of his own eggs in the basket. You know what makes a debtor knock on the front door faster than a twinkle?”

“What?”

He grinned angrily. “If he thinks there’s more debt to be had. You spot a way to keep your favorite minion closer to your chest for longer, you take it before someone else can.”

With a twist of his wrist, he downed his glass and slammed it none too quietly on the table. His eyes no longer meeting yours and burning holes into the wall over your elbow. “So! You help me advertise my devilish self as desperate for another deal, or perhaps just a clever amendment clause or two, and I promise you, they’ll show up.”

“And then what’ll we do?”

“End their wretched lives! What else?”

“Life began millions of years ago, and it hasn’t stopped since. Your jailer has long since learned to take advantage of that.” You calmly lounged with loosely crossed legs and arms, while Alastor was beginning to hover over the table like an angry ape. “There’s no way to ‘end their life’ in a manner you’d care about.”

With his face so close, you could smell the whiskey on his tongue along with an unfortunate whiff of antiquated dental hygiene standards. He wasn’t quite yet drunk, but was certainly not sober.

Your words gave him pause, but a radio star never let dead air stagnate. “Well, perhaps it was never a matter of killing them. No proper creditor makes their debtor more powerful than he.”

You said, “Your leash has its share of loopholes and weakness, like all contracts do. There’s never a way to fully avoid them, so most make additions that forbid them.”

Green stitches all along his maw. In one blink, you saw Alastor in his full pitiful glory, glowing neon-bright inverted hues, rotted body held together haphazardly with unforgiving threads. In another blink, Alastor was his normal outward self.

Back and forth you flipped your vision, trying to find any clues or conclusions. Snipping the threads would just make him fall apart. There must be a gentler conclusion.

Suddenly, you remembered what he said. “Alastor, how many debtors do you own?”

“Oh, I can’t remember the exact number. Ninety years is a long time. The answer’s somewhere in my ledger, I’m sure,” he waved a hand.

“Lend me a look. Please,” you added when Alastor’s glare turned vicious, “it’s important. You can trust me.”

“Now, how in the world would my own roster matter to my predicament?”

You leaned forward, meeting Alastor’s couched posture in the middle. “I made a promise, didn’t I? I promised you true liberty. If you want my help, then let me help.” You kept your voice low as if whispering a secret, even though no one was around to overhear. No one Alastor could see, anyways.

A heartbeat passed, then another. Then, with a great crackling of old vertebrae like he had suddenly aged decades, Alastor reigned in his defenses.

Has he ever yielded so completely since granted his powers? No wonder it felt so dreadful, like shaking off a carpet of cobwebs.

Never let it be known that Alastor was a chap who couldn’t learn something new, you heard him think bitterly. A dry exhale aired throughout the room as elongated shadows retreated, electric bulbs shone brighter, and the fireplace changed from eye-searing blacklight back to its natural warm glow.

Nonchalant smile back on his face, Alastor wiped his hands with a napkin and stood.

“Ah well. No time like the present, then?”

[beestriker015]

Charmcaster x male s/o headcanons

Much like Charmcaster, s/o was also a resident of Legerdomain who escaped the magical dimension after Addwaitya’s takeover.

S/o’s parents sacrificed themselves while fighting Addwaitya, buying their young son enough time to flee to Earth, where he survived on his own for many years until the now 15 year old boy ran into Hex and his niece Charmcaster.

“I sense a lot of magic in you boy. Who are you?”

Hex asks him with a stern yet curious voice as Charmcaster stares at s/o silently with a hint of a blush on her face.

“Hmm…he’s kinda cute.”

She thinks to herself before s/o answers her uncle’s question.

“M-my name is s/o.”

“S/o?! Could you be the child of (Mother’s Name) and (Father’s Name)?!”

When s/o nods, Hex realizes that the teenager is a fellow survivor of Legerdomain, having known his parents before Addwaitya’s conquest of their home.

Hex proceeds to tell s/o that he and his niece are also from Legerdomain and asks if he would like to join them, which the young magic user happily says yes to, much to Charmcaster’s hidden glee.

Since joining up with Hex and Charmcaster, s/o had gotten extremely close to the white haired witch, eventually leading to the two developing feelings for one another.

As time passed, s/o became fed up with the way Hex treated him and his own niece, so he tries convincing Charmcaster to get away from her uncle.

“Why do you let him treat you so badly Charmcaster? All he does is berate and threaten you.”

“H-he’s the only family I have left s/o. Plus I’m afraid what he’d do to if I stood up to him.”

She tells him while looking down sadly.

“Hex may be a master magician, but you and I have magic too, and we can stand up to him together if we combine our power.”

“Why do you care about my well being so much s/o?”

Charmcaster asks him with a hint of hostility in her voice as s/o sighs and decides that now’s the time to confess.

“Because you’re important to me. I love you Charmcaster.”

He tells her honestly, making her blush profusely because looking at him warmly.

“….Hope.”

She says to him, much to his confusion.

“What?”

“That’s my real name. Where we come from, names have power, and I feel comfortable telling you mine because….I love you too s/o.”

She kisses him, which he sinks into as the two enter a long lasting relationship.

True to s/o’s word, he and Hope confront Hex, much to the skull-faced sorcerer’s fury.

“Charmcaster! You dare turn on your uncle?! Your own flesh and blood?!”

“I’m done with your harsh words and threats uncle! S/o and I are through following you!”

Hex turns his attention to s/o and glares at him.

“You turned my niece against me. For that, both of you shall face the consequences!”

The three proceed to fight, with Charmcaster and s/o overpowering Hex and leave him to his own devices as they begin doing their own thing together.

As a couple, s/o and Hope are quite the force to be reckoned with and are constantly found going up against the Tennyson family.

While Hope has formed a rivalry with Gwen, s/o quickly becoming enemies with Ben, whom he enjoys fighting no matter what alien form the 10 year old wielder of the Omnitrix takes.

“That freaky watch of yours is no match for my magic Tennyson!”

“Heh, whatever you say s/o. I’m gonna enjoy kicking your butt!”

Despite being a pair of powerful magic users, s/o and Charmcaster often have their plans foiled by the Tennyson family, much to their annoyance.

“Ugh, that boy got the best of me again! A sorcerer like me constantly getting defeated by a child! Laughable!”

“Calm down s/o, I know how you feel, but we’ll get them next time.”

Hope gives her boyfriend a small smile, causing him to relax a little as the two escape from the scene before the authorities arrive to arrest them.

On the rare occasion one of them does get taken into custody, the other will waste no time in breaking them out.

“Took you long enough s/o. If I had to spend one more night here I was gonna lose it.”

“Sorry for the wait Hope, but it took longer to find you than expected.”

“It’s fine, let’s just get out of here already.”

S/o nods and hands his girlfriend her spellbook and magic bag as she kisses his cheek before they proceed to break out of the prison.

While they are technically dangerous criminals, s/o and his girlfriend do try to live a somewhat normal life by going out on dates like other teenagers do.

“This is honestly really nice. I enjoy spending time with you Hope.”

S/o tells her as the two snuggle on a park bench together.

“Me too s/o.”

While her boyfriend isn��t the jealous type, Hope very much is.

If a girl would approach s/o and talk to him, Charmcaster will not hesitate to scare the girl away by any means necessary.

“Was that really necessary Hope? You and I are trying not to garner unwanted attention remember?”

He asks her after she summoned a couple rock monsters from her bag, causing two girls he was talking with to run away absolutely terrified.

“Well excuse me if I don’t enjoyed seeing my boyfriend being flirted with!”

She scoffs at him as he shakes his head and kisses her cheek.

“They weren’t flirting with me babe, they just wanted directions. Besides, you know you’re the only girl for me. No need to be jealous.”

“I was not jealous.”

The sorceress pouts as her boyfriend chuckles.

“Sure, whatever you say Hope.”

He chuckles and hugs his girlfriend affectionately, making her blush as the two continue on with the date they were having.

Throughout the years of them being together, Charmcaster has a tendency to let her lust for power get the better of her, to which s/o always tries to save her from, sometimes with the help of their former enemies : The Tennysons.

“Babe, don’t let the power of the Alpha Rune control you! You’re better than that! Please, come back to your senses!”

He pleads, hoping to get through to his girlfriend.

Even if he gets hurt in the process, s/o will do whatever he can to help the woman he loves.

Should she ever badly hurt s/o during a power trip, a severe sense of guilt overtakes Hope once she returns to normal.

“N-no…what have I done?!”

She’ll immediately use any form of healing spell on s/o to make sure he’ll be alright.

“I-I’m so sorry s/o!”

Tears run down her face as s/o wipes them away and smiles at her weakly.

“Don’t be. No matter what you do, I’ll always forgive you Hope. I love you.”

She embraces him tightly, but despite her boyfriend’s words, Hope can never fully forgive herself for hurting the person she loves, despite his constant reassurance.

Charmcaster always had a strong desire to return to Legerdomain and reclaim it from Addwaitya, which she has done several times with temporary success even with her boyfriend’s support, but after years of constantly improving their magic, she and s/o face Addwaiya once again in the hopes of finally avenging their parents.

“Ah, the daughter of Spellbinder and the son of (Parents’ Names) challenge me once again I see. You two are persistent, but this time you will meet the same fate as all others who stand in my way.”

The magic turtle-like alien says to the two.

“You’re wrong Addwaiya, it’s you who will die today! You’ll pay for all the innocent lives of my people you’ve taken, including my father!”

Charmcaster exclaims angrily as s/o stands beside her.

“And my parents! Your rule over Legerdomain ends now! Ready babe?”

Hope nods at her boyfriend as they proceed to engage Addwaitya in magic combat.

After a long and arduous battle, the magical couple use all the power they can muster to wipe Addwaitya from existence, thus saving Legerdomain from the tyrant permanently.

Once Addwaitya is gone forever, Charmcaster and s/o collapse onto the ground in complete and utter exhaustion.

“We…finally did it Hope.”

S/o says to his girlfriend while breathing heavily.

“Yeah…I almost…can’t believe it. Thanks for fighting by my side babe.”

She smiles at him, which he returns.

“Of course. I love you Hope.”

“I love you too s/o.”

As the magical energies of Legerdomain restore the two’s strength, they slowly move closer to each other and embrace while sharing a passionate kiss, both looking forward to ruling Legerdomain together now that it is 100% Addwaitya free.