#no rowan that’s the devil talking

[arise-ascend]

Grant me the serenity to not read reddit threads about JKR, the courage to not read reddit threads about JKR, and the wisdom to not read reddit threads about JKR.

[calisources]

THE   ROYAL   TREATMENT.   all   sentences   are   either   taken   from   fantasy   or   fictional   and   historical   novels   about   kings,   queens,   royal   blood   and   some   sparked   romance   and   magic.   change   all   pronouns   and   names,   locations   as   you   see   fit.

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

“She was a ray of sunshine, a warm summer rain, a bright fire on a cold winter’s day, and now she could be dead because she had tried to save the man she loved.”

“He was a man known for the violence of his temper as well as the deliciousness of his touch.”

“Am I making you nervous, Natalie?”

“Sad it is, the fate of kings.”

“Go to this masquerade ball with your new friends, put on a pretty gown, and dance the night away.”

“Repentance is like a royal cheer.”

“Even the small joys are worth cherishing, and they will lead to greater ones.”

“when you become king shall find many difficult tasks and you shall have to hurt others and yourself.”

“The throne brings trouble and grief along with the glory.”

“Anger is a feeling afforded only by royal blood. Ordinary people ask for mercy in such situations.”

“True leadership is serving others; follow Queen Elizabeth's noble example.”

“Success isn't wealth or status; impact matters.”

“The power of empowerment can change the world, one person at a time.”

“Leadership is service, not a throne to seize.”

“I have in sincerity pledged myself to your service, as so many of you are pledged to mine.”

“Proper training is key, it allows one to accomplish a great deal."

“Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky."

“Royalty comes with a cost. My great-great-grandfather was one, and he left me no royalty but loyalty to empower people.”

“At all times an empire is more important than emperor and empress, prince and princess.”

“You might have to ask yourself, however right your claim is, if you are the leader the realm needs and wants.”

“You’re Royal. Get used to it and that involves a lot of burdens and things you don’t want to do.”

“I’m in awe of you, Rowan Palotay.”

“Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?”

“Prayer is a royal power.”

“You forget yourself and who you are speaking of.”

“Anyone young, famous and beautiful who dies young is forever frozen in time and fascinating to all of us.”

“Youths are the life blood of any nation.”

“I am not yet come of age, my lord. How can I be queen?”

“To crown her is to kill her.”

“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”

“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”

“I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.”

“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”

“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”

“We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.”

“...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.”

“I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man!”

“She was made to be a queen, just like her mother.”

Protect Myrcella with your life. Defend her... and her rights. Set a crown upon her head.“”

“You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.”

“For dogs we kings should have lions, and for cats, tigers. The great benefits a crown.”

“This marriage had resulted from impulse.”

“The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.”

“One does not ask if one likes the Blood Royal. They simply are. It is like asking if one likes the Gods.”

“You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.”

“The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.”

“You seem to think that you can still turn back, but it’s too late. You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.”

“Was it worse, she wondered, to be wanted dead or wanted Queen?”

“My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.”

“Respect shouldn't be hereditary; it must be earned.”

“You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.”

“There is nothing sharper than a well mannered princess’ words.Their true meaning are a mystery.”

“People are born great but yet need to grow into greatness”

“Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.”

“She was their witch queen, and they adored her.”

“To be fair, I don't quite see any difference between an assassin and a knight. They both kill people, only one "in the name of Honour '' and the other is just a "monster"

“Crowns belong to those that serve.”

“I have the softness and meekness of a daughter but I also have the boldness and Braveheart of a Son.”

“Will you visit my chambers tonight?”

“A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.”

“Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.”

“The Princess knew in her heart she is strong, smart, and capable because it is in her blood.”

“There is the matter of succession that has to be settled. You don’t start a reign without settling how it continues.”

“My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?”

“Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.”

“Often blessings and burdens comes hand in hand. The bigger the Crown the heavier the burden”

“If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.”

“Some girls have a frightening killer instinct. Don't let the ball gowns fool you.”

“You don't turn your back on your destiny.”

[izzy2210]

All The Time In The World

for @evashuu you literally helped me so much with this it's only fair

~~~~

Hob was grading essays, papers sprawled all over his usual table at the New Inn. It’s a few weeks after his stranger came back, Dream, he knows now. Dream, who’s sitting across from him, his hands politely in his lap, watching him work. He likes this, coexisting with someone in the same space, it makes him finally start grading these stupid essays he has to finish in two days. A student of his called it ‘body doubling,’ something that often works for people with ADHD. He tries not to think about what that means for him too much.

The door opens, the bell ringing, and he looks up. Speak of the devil, the kid walks into the Inn, their hands in their pockets. They spot Hob, and he raises his hand to wave, when their eyes go wide, and they make a U-turn in the doorway and start to walk away again.

“Rowan!” Hob shouts, and a few grumpy women side-eye him. Bummer, he thinks, I own the place. Rowan turns around again. “You should sit with us!” Hob smiles, and the kid rolls their eyes, reluctantly walking towards the table where Hob and Dream are sitting. 

Dream turns slightly to look at them, and then his eyes widen, his jaw tenses. He spots their too-sharp teeth as they grimace, the jewellery in their too-pointy ears isn’t steel. “Hob..” he starts, but his friend is already busy scooting to the left in his booth, letting Rowan sit next to him. 

“Rowan, this is Dream, a.. friend. Dream, this is Rowan, one of my students. I was just grading papers, already did yours.” Dream stares at Hob, then at Rowan. “Do you want tea? I could make you some tea. Myra-” he turns to the woman behind the bar, “Could you make Rowan some tea? On the house, it’s fine.” Hob grimaces, and Rowan twirls one of their rings around their finger. 

Dream is still staring at them when Myra brings their tea, and Rowan looks at the floor, masking their fear with awkwardness. They can feel, sense that Dream is Other. It doesn’t comfort them. They got banished from the Faerie for a reason, and they aren't planning on going back. Maybe this creature is going to take them home.

Hob hands them their tea, and they take it, warming their hands, even though it’s not that cold outside. Hob talks, they think, but they aren’t listening, not really. They’re looking at the creature across from him, his jaw set tight, his eyes a piercing, unnatural blue. Hob doesn’t seem to notice the tension. 

“Hob, are you aware..” Dream starts again. “Mh?” “Are you aware your student is.. Other?” He says, carefully, he doesn’t want to shock Hob. 

Hob chuckles. “I know, Dream, that they’re queer. It’s something you can say, these days, you don’t need to come up with euphemisms.” Hob sips his own tea, and the little crease between Dream’s eyebrows deepens. That.. That is not at all what he meant, but he can’t let the Fae know he knows and that Hob doesn’t know- It’s all terribly confusing. Rowan chuckles nervously. 

The rest of the afternoon goes that way, Hob talking animatedly, Rowan deeply uncomfortable, and Dream trying to pierce two symmetrical holes in their skull with his eyes. 

Eventually, after some whiskey mixed in with his tea, Hob invites Dream over to stay, and Rowan excuses themselves. Hob will pay for his tea, he promises, and then Rowan hurries out of the Inn. 

“Hob..” “Do you.. Want to stay over? Perhaps?” He asks, and Dream tips his head to the side, like a curious bird. Hob has never offered that, but it sounds.. Good. Dream nods, and Hob slides out of his booth, showing Dream the way up the stairs, to his apartment above the Inn. Pushes the door open, drops onto the plush couch while Dream just stands there, delightfully out of place between the brown bookshelves and green rug, Hob’s own little treehouse. Hob stares, and Dream stares back. They’ve always been strange like that.

Hob may be tipsy, but he’s definitely not thinking about how Dream’s lips would feel against his. Nope. Also not about carding his fingers through Dream’s hair, looking down at him as he puts those lips somewhere else, certainly not about letting Dream push him down onto the mattress, kissing him senseless and stupid while Dream’s fingers pet his chest, and move down, down..

No. Definitely not.

Dream clears his throat, a strange sound. “You.. You can sit, if you want?” Hob offers, and stares even more as Dream seems to fold in on himself like a goth lawnchair, tucking his sharp elbows and sharp knees in and sits down on the couch, sinking into it a bit. 

“Ah, you’re sitting in the spot I used to sit in. The underside of it cracked, so it’ll probably feel a bit weird to sit there..” Hob knows he’s rambling, knows this is awkward, but he can’t do anything but let his mouth run, afraid that if he’ll stop talking thoughts will start to form in his head again, maybe even daydreams. He doesn’t know if Dream can sense those, but he isn’t keen on finding out right now, not with this mindset. 

“It is comfortable.” Dream simply says, and Hob just nods. “This place is lived in. Some humans would call it.. Cosy.” Dream slides his hand over the fabric, Hob chuckles, and stares. “Yeah. That.. That was the goal. I have my books, my desk where I grade papers students write..” He smiles again, definitely doesn’t wonder how Dream’s hand would feel in his, or somewhere else..

“About your students.. Rowan Sorbus, as they call themselves, they are-” “Yeah, they’re something, aren’t they? Lovely kid to have in class, not afraid to ask questions, or question the textbook.” Hob smiles. Maybe Rown and Dream could bond, they are both.. Not from around here, to say the least. 

“Yes, well..” Dream starts, and then sees how comfortable Hob is here, and stops. He.. He wants to see where this night is going, without the intrusion of telling Hob that his favourite student is Fae, and could potentially be dangerous. He doesn’t want to disturb his peace. And if he thinks about it, Rowan didn’t look all that threatening. Maybe he was wrong.

Hob talks, about difficult classes and incorrect textbooks, about old mad Hettie and new friends, and Dream listens, intently, scooting closer with every new story. Dream doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink, but the stories are fuel for him, he can almost feel them. Hob tells them so well, he can almost smell the scent of new textbooks, old tea and a wooden desk as Hob tells him how difficult it is to grade papers on your own. He can feel the grains between his fingers as Hob tells him that he organised a company trip to the beach for the staff of the New Inn, and he can smell the sea as he tells him about that one time when he went fishing with a friend, catching an actual octopus. 

“The smell of the ink brought me back, oh lord. M’hands used to be covered with it when I was working at the printing presses, god!” Hob sits up. “That’s when I thought you were the devil!” He chuckles, and Dream smiles softly. “Mh, and now I’m friends with you. Fancy me being friends with the devil.” He grins over at Dream, who smiles more.

Those smiles were rare, in the early days, but in this century Hob earns them in abundance, as he jokes, mocks and tells his stories. He relishes in them, loves them dearly. He speaks more, about all kinds of things, and when he glances at the clock he sees it’s past midnight. 

“Hob, as much as I like your stories, it is late. You should retire to bed, I believe you have classes to teach early in the morning.” Hob hums, a little disappointed. “Yeah, I do.” Dream seems to tense up, suddenly, just a little, but Hob spots it. “Business calls in The Dreaming, my friend. Good night.” And then Dream is gone.

Hob sighs, and goes through the motions of getting ready for bed. Strips out of his shirt and trousers, brushes his teeth, has a piss.. All with a sort of pit in his stomach. It’s not exactly sadness, not exactly anger. Just.. Emptiness. He really thought he was doing it right. He gets in bed, and if he wraps his arms around the other pillow and shoves his face in it, expecting the smell of Dream but getting the smell of his laundry detergent instead, nobody needs to know.

——————————————————————

Rowan sleeps, and wanders. Through fields and grasslands, over mountains and ravines. They’re not sure what they’re looking for, but they know there’s something. 

They drop down, exhaustedly, in an open field, watching the sky shimmer with stars. They hear footsteps coming closer, but the sound isn’t threatening, and they’re too tired to move, so they don’t. Sue them, they feel like they got exiled all over again.

“You are not from around here.” A voice says, a female voice, a voice they recognise. They find the strength to sit up. “You..” A small, pixie-like creature stands next to them, her brown hair short and choppy, her ears just as pointed as theirs. Their eyes widen, shit, they really can’t seem to be inconspicuous lately. 

“You’re Ash-” “I don’t go by that name anymore. It’s Rowan.” They interrupt, a bit defensively. If they didn’t feel like they just ran a marathon, they would flee. 

“Alright. I’m Nuala.” She sits down next to them. “I.. I know who you are. You were a real big deal. I’m.. I’m sorry.” They say, and she shrugs, sitting closer. “You didn’t know. It’s not your fault I was gifted to him like an object.” At that, Rowan’s eyes widen, and narrow again. “Who is him?” 

“The king here. He’s.. A bit of a prick, to be honest.” Nuala giggles, and Rowan chuckles with her. “He’s strange. Doesn’t really talk much, mostly watches.” She continues. “He did say he liked what I did with the decoration. He.. he is difficult sometimes. Doesn’t trust easily.” Rowan nods. “I know some people like that. They take a while to warm up, but-” “He can’t warm up. He can only tolerate, I think sometimes.” She sighs. “I.. I used to like him, dreamt of a relationship with him. It's all a bit ironic, now.” She chuckles wetly, and Rowan can feel their heart break for her. “What’s his name?” they ask, scooting closer. They’ve always been up for a good gossiping. 

“His name’s Dream.” 

Oh.

Fuck.

“Tall, pale, goth? Black hair, bluest fucking eyes you ever did see?” They say, standing up, suddenly not so tired anymore. Nuala frowns, “Yeah, how did you know?” 

Fuck. 

“I saw him today, he was all defensive and cold. D’you think I pissed him off? Would he have the power to send me back?” They ask, concerned. “I.. I don't want to go back, I’m good by myself, I really don’t need the pressure-” A silhouette appears on the horizon, almost seems to materialise there, and they stop talking. The figure gets bigger, and Nuala stands as well. 

“There he is,” she says. “I.. I should go.” And in a cloud of sand, almost glittery pink, she’s gone.

And then they stand there, too tired to flee this impending doom, it seems. Did.. did he do this to them?

As he gets closer they see he’s wearing some sort of cloak, fire licking on the seams. He seems mad, powerful. Rowan doesn’t quite know what to do. They’re.. Scared.

“No need to be frightened, Rowan Sorbus.” He says, when he’s in hearing range. “Easy for you to say. What did I do to piss you off, eh?” They choose offence, no point in being nice. Dream’s eyes narrow. “I am not angry, Rowan. This, all of it.. Was a case of miscommunication. I was under the impression that you were planning on hurting your teacher, Hob Gadling. The Fae can be.. complicated creatures.” Rowan opens their mouth to say something, but Dream is quicker, “I now know. That that is incorrect, and it was.. Not good of me to make that assumption.” Rowan nods.

“No, no.. Yeah. It.. It’s okay. I’ve had worse. Why..” They have this nervous tick, where they rub the ridge of their ears, to check if they’re still as pointy. They wished they fit in more, sometimes. “Why are you so protective over Mr. Gadling?” Dream’s lips quirk, just a little, but Rowan spots it.

“We are good friends. We have been for quite a while.” Rowan frowns. “How long?” “You would not believe me if I told you.” They chuckle, nodding. “Mh, sure. Try me.” 

“We have known each other precisely for six hundred thirty three years, one month and nine days.” Rowan whistles between their teeth. “Mr. Gadling’s immortal?” “He is.” “Wouldn’t have guessed, he hides it well. Although I could smell something Other on him. Maybe that’s just you, though. How long have you been together?” Do Rowan’s eyes deceive them, or do they spot a blush on Dream’s marble face?

“We are friends.” He mutters, and it sounds almost like he’s convincing himself. Rowan whistles again, and sits down in the grass. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you today, Dream. I’ve seen the way you are protective over him. You better figure stuff out. You might be defensive about him, but I am just as much. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Dream nods, slowly. “I.. understand.” “Do you understand yourself? Your feelings?” Dream frowns. “I am not interested in a therapy session with you, little Fae.” Rowan snorts. “Pff- Fuck. That’s now what I want either. I just want you to be good for Mr. Gadling. In whatever way. Friends, or boyfriends, whatever. Just..” They stand again, facing Dream, looking properly at him for the first time. He’s quite handsome. “Be good to him, alright? I.. I don’t want to lose my family again.” They ask, and Dream nods. “I will. Now wake up, little Fae. I think you will find that you helped me a lot when you get lessons from him again.” Rowan nods, and blinks. When they open their eyes, they’re laying in their bed, wide awake.

——————————————————————

Hob is sitting in the New Inn, the evening sun streaming through the windows. He has his eyes closed, he’s not grading papers, just enjoying his business, enjoying the weather, when the bell on the door rings, and he cracks open an eye to see Dream, out of place in his black trenchcoat. Hob grins, and waves him over. 

“Hob..” He mutters as he sits down in the chair in front of him. Hob likes the way he says his name.  “I have had an interesting conversation with someone last week. It made me realise certain things. These things are.. Better said in private, if you do not mind.” Hob frowns, but a smirk tugs at his lips. “Sure, Dream.” He stands. “Is there something wrong?” “Not at all.” Dream mutters, and follows Hob up the stairs.

Hob falls down on his couch with a sigh that could only be made by fathers, and invites Dream to sit next to him. He does, and it’s a sight. Hob made sure to sit on the broken part of the couch. He remembers. “So. What was it that you wanted to say?” 

Dream opens his mouth, and closes it again. When his lips part again, he can only say “I..” before changing his mind. Hob thinks he looks like a fish. A pretty fish, though. “Take your time.” 

“I have been thinking.” Hob shifts in his seat, grinning. “That’s dangerous. Go on.” “And I have come to a realisation. About myself. However, it concerns you as well, yet I do not wish to change how things are going if you do not wish it as well, and I-” “Dream. Think about what you are going to say, and say it, please. It sounds serious.”

Dream sighs, frowns a little, and Hob’s eyes get drawn to the little crease between his brows, then the sharp edge of his nose, then the soft arch of his lips..

“Do you want some tea while you think?” Hob says, suddenly. Dream nods, absentmindedly. He looks like he’s piecing together a puzzle in his head, brow still furrowed. Hob stands, but Dream grabs his wrist gently. “Wait.” Dream stands, and now they're in front of each other, but Dream is avoiding his gaze. 

“I have come to realise. That I care a great deal about you, Hob. More than.. humans would consider a friendship. I..” Hob's face softens, he almost melts. “Oh Dream..” Hob grabs his other hand. “I would like for us to..” “Be together? As like.. a couple?” A man can hope, Hob thinks. You never know with Dream, what he really means. Dream smiles, softly. “Yes. A romantic relationship.” 

Hob sighs, smiling. He seems to melt, and leans his forehead against Dream’s chest, chuckling. “God.. that was smooth. So..” He pulls back, to look Dream in the eyes. He looks rather surprised with Hob’s touchiness, but not disturbed. “Could.. Could I possibly.. Kiss you, then?” Dream’s lips part, and they catch Hob’s attention, his eyes lingering there.

“I would like that, Hob.” Hob untangles one of his hands from Dream’s, brings it up to his face. He traces patterns over the smooth skin there, relishing in the way Dream’s eyes flutter shut, and he presses a soft kiss against his lips, lingering a little. He tips his forehead against Dream’s, and sighs. 

“You literally have no idea for how long I wanted to do that.” He chuckles, and Dream opens his eyes. “It might have been centuries since I have been kissed. Millenia since I have been kissed so.. Lovingly.” Dream admits, and Hob pouts a little as he says it, bringing his hands up to Dream’s face. “That’s terrible, duck. You deserve it, really do, you-” “I would like to discuss this at a later time. For now, would you kiss me again?” Dream looks almost scared to ask, and Hob’s heart breaks. “Of course, duck. Always. Would kiss you always.”

Dream closes the gap now, and their lips slot together like two tectonic plates, creating volcanoes in Hob’s brain and ravines in Dream’s stomach. Dream tastes like lightning, Hob notices when he slips his tongue inside, like a thunderstorm, like the smell of wet concrete. It’s jarring, almost, but Hob has always loved nature, loved sitting outside in the rain while his mates cowered in their bunks. He can love Dream like that, he thinks. Love him even though he’s terrifying, love him even though he can be destructive. Hob will keep him from destroying himself. 

Dream’s cold hand slides in Hob’s hair, tangling his fingers in the strands, and Hob lets out an embarrassing sound. Dream pulls back. “Are you all right?” he asks, concerned, and Hob chuckles slightly. “Yeah, duck. M’fine. S’just.. Been a while since I’ve been touched like that as well. You might not believe it, but the life of a history professor isn’t all that exciting. Think.. Think if we do more right now it’s gonna be even more embarrassing for me.”  Dream frowns. “So you would enjoy..” “Maybe going to bed together? Cuddling? Kissing some more, if you want?” Hob slides his hand down Dream’s arm, tangling their fingers together. Dream lets him. “I would like that quite a lot.” “We.. We have all the time in the world to do the rest. For now, I just want to be cosy with you. Want to see how you wake up.” “I do not sleep. Not like you.” Hob chuckles. “Then pretend, for my sake.” 

Hob lets his hand slip out of Dream’s, and leads the way towards the bedroom. “Make yourself comfortable.” He says, vaguely gesturing to the bed. “Gonna brush my teeth, have a wee.” Hob strips out of his shirt and trousers, and notices Dream’s gaze lingers, not with hunger, but with fascination. Hob slips into the bathroom, and quickly does what he announced. When he comes back Dream is still sitting on the side of the bed, his hands politely in his lap. Still in that fucking trenchcoat.

Hob walks over, and motions for Dream to stand again. He lifts his hands, and fiddles with the first button of his coat. “That alright?” He says, and Dream nods. Hob struggles with the second button, and Dream just waves his hand, letting the coat dissolve into dreamstuff. Hob gasps a little, and that amuses Dream. 

Hob helps him out of his shirt, and watches as he slips out of his trousers. They’re both in their pants now, letting the other map out their body with his gaze. “Shall we..?” He says, nodding to the bed, and they both slide under the covers, facing each other.

Hob reaches out first, grazing his fingertips over Dream’s collarbones, then up his shoulder, down his arm. “You are cold.” Hob notices. “Does it bother you?” He traces back up his arm, cupping his cheek so softly, like he’s made of porcelain. “Not at all, duck. I’m always running hot.. It would be comfortable to be with you.” Dream smiles softly, and reaches out, mapping out the scars on Hob’s chest, running his fingers through the hair there, then back up, to tangle in his hair, bringing him close and letting their lips lock. 

The kiss is soft, gentle, almost lazy in the way that there is no rush, there never is with them. Like Hob said, they have all the time in the world. They can figure stuff out in their own time. They might be a god and a witch, an idea and an immortal, but right now, they’re two men, cuddling together in bed, so in love there aren’t really words for it. 

——————————————————————

In the next few months, Dream comes over almost daily, sleeps over about as much. They figure out a rhythm. Dream doesn’t eat, but enjoys watching Hob cook. Dream is enthralled by the television, and his favourite show is The Golden Girls, although he’d never admit it.  Hob likes to offer Dream tea, and he actually drank it once or twice. Hob counts it as a win. 

“My darling..” 

And then there’s that. Hob started calling Dream ‘duck’ as soon as he could, but it took Dream a while to warm up to the fact that he is allowed to love Hob visually. 

Hob hums in response from the kitchen. “Come here.” Dream murmurs, and Hob walks towards him, his shirt covered in flour. “What are you making?” “Cookies, duck.” Dream hums, and pats next to him on the couch. “Come here.” He says again, and Hob nods. “One second, duck, gonna wash my hands real quick.” Hob disappears into the kitchen, and comes back a moment later, cleaner now.

Hob walks to sit next to Dream, but he  manhandles him into his lap. “Oh!” Dream hums, nuzzles his neck. “You are beautiful, my love.” Hob chuckles. “Mh, thank you, duck.” 

“You have been having daydreams, my love.” Dream can feel Hob’s cheeks heat up. “You can see those?” “It is effortful, but yes. You are worth the effort.” Dream presses a kiss to Hob's jaw. “One daydream keeps resurfacing. You.. you want me to fuck you.” Hob lets out a strangled sound. “I.. well yeah.” “You want me to push you into the mattress. Touch you all over. Do not leave a part of you unkissed, unloved.” 

Hob hides his face in Dream’s neck, presses a lazy kiss there. “Yeah. I do. But.. I don't know if you want to as well.” “I would love to, Hob. After dinner, perhaps?” He says it like he's talking about dessert, not about taking Hob apart piece by piece. Hob sighs, and it turns into a chuckle.

“I would love that.” He says, and presses another soft kiss in the crook of Dream’s neck. This time, Dream shivers. “Is that good?” Hob whispers, and kisses him there again, scraping his teeth over his skin a little, and Dream hums, a low rumble Hob can feel. “Are you trying to seduce me?” Dream rumbles. “Mh. Haven’t I already?” Hob kisses his neck again. “Quite successfully, might I add. God, you’re beautiful.” Hob fits his teeth over Dream’s Adam’s apple, and he grumbles, grabbing Hob’s arse and standing up, manhandling him to the bedroom, dropping him on the bed.

“You tease me, Hob Gadling.” Hob looks up at him, eyes full of admiration. “Sure do, duck.” Dream crawls over him, their faces inches from each other, as Dream runs his finger over Hob’s chest, turning his jumper into dreamstuff. “That was my favourite-” “I will make you another one. A better one.” “Dream..” “Please. Shut up.” And he kisses him, and it’s thunderstorms and electricity all over again, like someone put a spark to Hob’s brain. Dream lets Hob’s other clothes disappear, and runs his hands down his body, still kissing him. Hob lets out a “hmph-” tugging at Dream’s clothes, and they disappear just as easily. 

“After dinner, right?” Hob jokes as Dream kisses down his body, and his chuckle turns into a sigh as Dream finds the sensitive spot in his neck. “How could I wait when you tease me like that, my love?” Hob groans. “You are.. Insatiable..” “Tell me your daydreams, love.” “You know..” “Tell me. I want to hear it. What do you want, my darling?” Dream is nuzzling his stomach now, and Hob smiles down at the sight, Dream’s pale fingers splayed out over the soft arch of his middle, his plump lips pressed against his skin where an especially big scar disappears into Hob’s trousers.. 

“Want you to fuck me, Dream..” Hob throws his head back into the pillows as Dream sucks a bruise into the skin of his hip. “Want you to eat me out first, is that alright?” “You are not telling me everything, my Hob. You want me to push you down, ‘face down, arse up’, as you think so unceremoniously. Would you want me to do that now?” Hob sighs again, lets out a “God yes please holy fuck-” and Dream flips him effortlessly onto his stomach, spreading his hand between his shoulderblades, pushing him down.

“You are like the sun, Hob. It took me a while to look at you, but you have so many marks, from so many centuries of living.” Dream slides his hands down Hob’s sides, down to his arse where he unmakes his boxers as well. Dream cups his arse with his hands, and Hob sighs, his face pushed into the pillows. “Please..” 

Dream spreads his cheeks, and lets out a huff. “You..” “Mh, fuck- Did I forget to tell you?” Hob lets himself drop fully onto the bed, and turns around to face Dream. “I’m trans. I have a cunt. Is that.. A problem?” Dream lets out another huff. “Not at all, my love. Not at all.” He nuzzles Hob’s hip, fits his lips over his hip bone. “I was just surprised, you have never mentioned it before.” “Not something you go advertising around, duck.” “Mh. That is a shame.” Dream wraps his hand around Hob’s thigh, and lifts it so it’s resting on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the inside of it. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, and Hob melts at the sight, Dream’s eyes shining so brightly, asking for approval at every move.. “It’s perfect, duck. This is good. Please..” Hob cups Dream’s face, and then moves it so his fingers are tangled in his hair, pushing him towards his cunt. Dream shoots look at him, and darts his pink tongue over his lips, making Hob groan. 

Hob throws his head back, tangling his fingers in Dream’s hair as he finally does what he’s been wanting him to do for centuries. Hob babbles, keens, and Dream hums low in his throat, licking and sucking like it’s his last fucking meal. 

“Dream, fuck.. Please-” Hob hooks his knee behind Dream’s neck, pushing him closer. “Fuck.. That’s good- Please..” Hob’s back arches, pushing himself further into Dream’s mouth. 

The sensations are almost too much, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure that makes his head spin. Dream’s hands roam, squeezing and caressing, adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Hob’s moans grow louder, echoing in the room, a testament to Dream’s skill. Hob vaguely thinks about where he could’ve picked it up, but then Dream slides two fingers into Hob’s hole, shutting his mind off effectively. “So.. Fucking close, duck..” He groans, and Dream lets out a low chuckle, the sound going straight south for Hob. 

“Dream..” “What would you like, my love?” Dream pulls back slightly, and leans his cheeks against Hob’s inner thigh. Hob looks down, and Dream’s lips and chin are covered in his slick. “Would you come right now? Or let me indulge in you even more, and fill you up, taking you the way you have been dreaming about?” A small smirk plays at Dream’s lips, and Hob fists the sheets, letting go and gripping again, trying to ground himself before even trying to properly form a thought. Dream tilts his head in question.

“Fuck, love.. Need you to give me a break after you suck my soul out through my cunt, goddammit..” He chuckles slightly, and Dream does as well, pressing a soft and wet kiss to Hob’s thigh, the hair there tickling his face. “What will it be, my love?” Hob sighs, pets through Dream’s hair while he thinks. 

“I.. We have all the time in the world, right?” He asks, a soft smile on his face at the sigh of Dream’s eyes closed, enjoying the feeling. He hums. “Then we have actual infinite opportunities to do what I wanted to do. Right now.. I just want you to fuck me, duck. But I want to look at you.” Dream is smirking now, and crawls over Hob again, dissolving his pants into dreamstuff in the same movement. 

“Quite the romantic..” Dream hums as he kisses at Hob’s jaw, who goes slack like putty at the touch. “I would love to fuck you, darling. Slow?” He mumbles, and Hob nods breathlessly, he cannot believe his luck, still can’t quite believe Dream is here. “Yeah, duck.. Want you to take me apart, please.” 

“Then I will do so, my love.” He kisses Hob, slowly, and slides inside him with a sigh. Hob throws his head back into the pillows, his lips slipping from Dream’s, so he settles for pressing his lips to Hob’s neck again, starting to move slowly, deliberately, watching every microexpression on Hob’s face as he does so. Dream sighs as he moves, focussed on Hob, trying not to pay attention to the growing tug in his gut. 

First, his lips part in a silent moan, then they quiver as Dream slides a hand down his body to rub Hob’s cock while he makes love to him. Then Hob almost squeals in delight, biting his lip to not make too much noise. “Duck.. Please- I’m gonna-” “Yes..” It’s almost a hiss, and Dream picks up the pace slightly, the soft sounds of them panting and skin slapping skin filling the room. 

Hob feels electric, on fire, but also calm, like the eye of a tornado. It’s like Dream has finally found the off-switch to his brain, the only thing he can think of is Dream, Dream, Dream. 

He wraps his arms around his lover, pulling him close when he comes, and if he sheds a few tears, Dream didn’t notice, he’s too busy creating novas in his eyes, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look pitch black. His lips are parted, kissed pink and glossy, and he feels so human, so vulnerable, so one with Hob. He collapses on top of him, panting.

——————————————————————

After, they lay in bed, cuddled up and cosy, warm under the blankets. Dream is resting, and a sunbeam caresses his face, filtering through his hair. His head is laying on Hob’s stomach, warm and happy. Hob’s cookies are long forgotten, the dough still laying on the kitchen counter where he left it. Dream doesn’t snore, but hums slowly, a rhythm that lulls Hob in and out of The Dreaming.

“We should get out of bed, perhaps.” Dream opens one eye to look at him, and frowns. “I do not see the need for that. We are happy, we are together.” Hob smiles softly, and sinks his fingers into Dream’s hair, earning a low hum from him. “We have other things to do, maybe?” Hob suggests, but he knows he’ll lose this argument. He doesn’t really care that much. “Mh. We, my darling, have all the time in the world.” 

~~~

@rainy-days-and-nights @fellshish you might like this

[onestepbackwards]

saw the anon ask about what were to happen if the self-aware pla ancestors left their own documentations of the player and passing it down to their predecessors and it was so cool that i wanted to conjure some what-if scenarios if rowan and cyrus DID end up meeting the player.

rowan is pretty ecstatic to meet you, as you could've imagined. a person with such abilities and trainer capability is a sight that is rare to behold outside of high ranking trainers and whatnot, so it's fair to say he's excited. while he could somewhat understand why kamado believed you to be some devil in disguise back then, you didn't even seem to harbor a singular ill intent within you.

cyrus on the other hand.. yeah, he's something else. when he finally pieces together just what and where you are, his perfect plan is in motion. a person with such abilities and knowledge like no other, and with access to pokemon with earth shattering properties.. his interest is piqued. as the plotline progresses all the way to mt. coronet's top, cyrus gathers dialga and palkia to do his usual bargain. but this time, he has a different goal in mind.

He is going to use you to create his perfect universe for him. And those of compassionate spirit who will try to stop you will cease to exist. While cyrus's ramblings and prophecies are complete lunacy filled with sadness and desperation, you can't help but feel a bit tempted to help him. Who could blame you? If such power could be at your access, would you not utilize it for your own desires? Maybe kamado was right about you.

Oooh Imagine Rowan becomes increadibly protective.

He sees you for the first time, and its when you first become a trainer, and it clicks.

You are younger than the hardened, fierce, 'devil' trainer his ancestor spoke about. In this moment, as you and your friend apologize for using the starter pokemon without permission, he recognizes you.

The two of you are nothing but bright-eyed, bushy tailed trainers, but he sees it. That spark that all strong trainers have. That spark that no doubt would become that fierce, determined, fiery expression that his ancestor was very wary of.

Of course, after meeting you, he immediately realizes the odd talk in his ancestor's journals must have been paranoid nonsense. You are a talented trainer who is very good with pokemon, but to Kamado, it must have been something unheard of. Especially after the horrible things his ancestor endured before creating Jubilife village.

He decides to root for you both, and to support you as much as he can. You'll definitely need it if you are the exact same trainer from the future that was sent to Kamado's era. Rowan couldn't even imagine being in your shoes, especially after reading how cold most the village will treat you.

Cyrus though definitely changes his plans around the idea of meeting you.

Someone who could strong-arm gods after losing everything. A trainer who was strong, yet compassionate. Someone who didn't give up, and saved the world despite facing the end.

If you really were from his time, he wanted you on his side.

Sure, he didn't care much for pesky feelings, but he would be a fool to ignore the power of them after what he had read about you. How you used your bonds with pokemon to defeat gods and catch them, all in an era where that was primarily unheard of if you weren't from the local clans.

All it would take is a bit of fibbing, and he is sure he can sway you to his side. Surely, you'll believe that creating a new universe is the perfect plan, no?

No more suffering, no more hardships. No one would ever have to suffer ever again. And you'd have anything you wanted at your finger tips.

Won't you hear him out?

[gothicbabydollz]

look what i just found 😀

I hate it, this was a hard read. I can’t tell if it’s cause i just really hate the way i was trying to write this or if it’s cause it’s about a man. Who knows.

I’m gonna post it anyway since i did promise this ages ago. I apologise if it’s not my best work.

strict!dom rowan…

to the outside world, Rowan Whitethorn is cool, collected and ferocious member of the cadre.

and that doesn’t change much behind closed doors, especially in the bedroom.

he never realised just how much he strives for control, gets off on it. Until he tapped into his dominant side.

and when you came along, the switch clicked perfectly into place. You’re so eager and so willing to listen to him

you want to be his good girl.

now, Rowan has rules. Not too many but he is strict about them

1. Manners.

If you want something from him, you ask nicely. If he’s in between your legs, has your thighs pushed back against your chest. He’s watching your pretty cunt swallow his thick fingers. Slowly slipping in and out, massaging your warm, wet walls. Curling perfectly to feel you squeeze. Desperate for release, you want more. “Please,” You’ll groan out.

“Please what, angel? What is it?” He asks so nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t stroking that one specific and delicate spot inside you. Rowan does it on purpose. Making it harder for you ask for what you’d like from him.

“F-faster! Mmph! Need you to fuck me faster, sir please.”

(this man is so sir coded istg!!)

Majority of the time, Rowan is a ‘you’ll take what I give you’ kind of male. But gods does he love hearing you beg. He’ll drag this out for a while, because one thing to know about Rowan…he’s a tease. He’ll get you whining for him before he finally gives you what you want. Thrusting his fingers into your heat at a relentless pace, cunt sloshing lewdly. You asked him so nicely, how could he refuse? Rowan‘s hand will also find its place wrapped around your throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. So he can feel the vibrations of your moans against the palm of his hand.

“You like that? Is this what you wanted?” He’ll ask you. Knowing you’re getting fucked too good to form a coherent answer.

Too add on, you thank him when you cum. Rowan sees this as form of appreciation for him. He can’t describe how much he enjoys feeling you cling to him as you bury your face into his skin, or look him in eye, murmuring out, broken and raspy “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” almost like a chant.

2. Don’t act like a brat.

Aka, don’t talk back, don’t roll your eyes at him, don’t try to make him jealous, don’t try to squirm away from the pleasure he gives you rowan knows what you can handle

This one is definitely a rule you slip up on from time to time. That little masochistic devil on your shoulder loves to test Rowan’s own devil, the sadist twin.

But we’ll get into the punishments another time.

3. Don’t you dare climax without his permission.

Rowan could go for hours. Teasing you. Winding you up. Release so close you could reach out and touch yet still it’s miles away.

He’s deadly serious about this rule

And he loves making it hard for you to follow

He’ll edge you for ages, making you ride his thigh or hump his pillow while he watches, muttering all sorts of filthy remarks.

“does that feel good, huh? like rubbing yourself all over my fucking pillow? filthy girl, you want me to smell your cunt while i sleep, shit.”

“where’d my precious angel go?”

And all you can do is pant loudly, hips rutting harder and faster as you try to hide how much his words affect you

Every time he senses that you’re close and, he’ll make you stop.

He knows the signs.

By the gods, he knows you better than you know yourself.

And he loves to remind you, that through all this torture, he’s not being cruel…he just knows what’s best for you

Even if that means denying your climax until you’ve hit your breaking point, where he’ll finally take over and do exactly that…

He’ll break you.

[theangrycomet-art]

Loonatics Unleashed:

Tics’ Redesign Notes

Rev Runner: Rowan Renner (22)

“socks” are for protecting his tendons more than the bottom of his feet

also uses feet to grab/adjust things when his hands are full, despite Danger’s protests

leans towards athletic leisure wear

tail feathers used to be thicker, but with his job have worn down (think like old flags).

still debating on feather colors- possibly dyed?

leggy boi

paranoid about being too late from job

wikipedia article addict

knew Tech pre-comet, but only as the one guy who actually paid for his meal instead of claiming he was late

Danger Duck: Daniel Kessler (22)

Mallard (with possibly some martian DNA???- what with how Daffy’s beak/face situation was)

takes him ages to style his feathers

smallest of the group and slightly salty about it

wants to make Zadavia proud so bad because she is one of the few parent-aged adults that’s shown a shred of faith in him

Tech E. Coyote: Dr. Terrence Ethel Coyote (25)

still bitter that he and Rev lost the thermostat argument with Ace

middle child of three (older “twin” sister/litter mate and a younger half sister)

the chips missing from his ear are from his senior project being sabotaged and subsequently exploding

however, between exposing Mallory and and his subsequent hero work, Acme Tech still granted him his degree

Local medical clinic with Anthro Specialist’s know him very well

knew Rev pre-comet, but only as the food delivery boy with faulty rocket skates (offered to fix them but he’d dashed off at that point)

Ace Bunny: Alec O’Hare (24)

Snowshoe hare 

youngest of 10 (6 brothers and 3 sisters)

moved to Acmetropolis to become a movie star and escape his (more) successful older siblings

very little desire to go back home any more than necessary

jacket one of the first things he bought with his first pay check

still friends with one of his acting buddies

due to his stunt double work he is the only Tic’ able to fight in high heels

second cousins with Lexi

Lexi Bunny: Alexandria Rabbit (22)

jack rabbit

only child

still taking a few classes from Acme University online

kind of stumped on what specifically she should get a degree in tho

wear’s hearing aids (courtesy of Tech) to help filter out the excess sound when she’s getting overwhelmed by all the noise

second cousins with Ace

Slam Tasmanian: Azrael Spynlee (22)

apparently tasmanian devil’s are a real animal???

youngest of two

while quiet, he can speak normally

the cook/medic of the group

tend to be the one everyone goes to talk

while he enjoys a good brawl, he is a gentle giant

handles kids best out of the group

[chaoticbardlady99]

Lethal Woman (GN! Reader x Astarion) Chapter 2

Title is inspired by the song Dove Cameron sings. The picture of Astarion is is by @aristenfromwarsaw on Tumblr. Nightmask and Astarion’s tattoo are off the internet, the picture of Rowan is from my PlayStation lol!

Background- You are a Nightmask Death Bringer who was kidnapped by a Nautiloid Ship. Along with 6 strangers, you look for a solution to getting the unwanted tenants in your heads.

Trigger Warnings: Violence, death, mentions of abuse

Story begins in Act 1

(Sorry guys, it's kinda long)

Chapter Two- Astarion 

Chapter Three

   Blinking awake, Astarion jumps up from the ground in a panic- finding the nearest rock to hide behind. Astarion takes inventory of himself, looking for signs of burning or other injuries. Except… Astarion didn’t feel any burning at all. In fact, he can feel the sun and it feels good. Astarion steps out from the shadows with the anticipation of being burned alive, but again, nothing happens. Astarion feels a massive grin spread across his face. No Cazador. No burning. 

    It is a miracle and he has the Mind Flayer of all beings to thank for it. 

     Shadowheart had come across him first as he stood on the beach. She had seen past his false guise and there was a brief tumble between the two before they ultimately came to an understanding. They both had a tadpole in their heads and they both wanted it out of their heads. Astarion hadn’t felt that way at first, but becoming an ugly, tentacled creature wasn’t on his immortal agenda. 

    Slowly their group became bigger. An unremarkable wizard named Gale joined after Shadowheart so graciously pulled him out of his portal. Then there was Lae’zel, who just barely made the cut  (Astarion and Gale had managed to convince Shadowheart that Lae’zel was a valuable asset despite all her bitching). Last, but not least, they played “hero” outside of the Druid’s Grove and met the “Mighty” Blade of Frontiers. 

    Zevlor had asked Shadowheart if she would assist him in convincing Kagha not to force the Tiefling refugees out. Shadowheart had looked back at Lae’zell wearily before turning back to Zevlor.

 “Unfortunately, it’s going to have to wait. We are still looking for one more person from the Nautiloid crash. Their name is Rowan- they haven't happened to come through here have they?”

        As Zevlor and Shadowheart talked, Astarion pondered over Shadowheart’s insistence to find them. Astarion could hardly understand Shadowheart’s infatuation with this “Rowan”. 

You’re obsessed because she saved you? He scoffed before thinking, pathetic. That is how thralls are made.

However, now that Wyll had led them to this “Devil” he was searching for, Astarion understood the infatuation. 

     A clash of swords hit the air on The Risen Road. A scream of terror causes Astarion to stop in his tracks as a man comes clambering out of the wood building, tripping over his own feet as he looks behind him in fear. The group takes cover in the nearby brush to avoid detection.

   Before any of them could even blink, they watch the individual he is running from emerge from the entrance. They wore black, thick leather rogue armor that hugs their figure- accentuating their feminine silhouette. Their legs are covered in strapped in throwing knives. They hold a short sword and a dagger as they unhurriedly approach the man who is scrambling on the ground. However, the most unsettling part of the person’s armor is the slate black mask with eye holes and a mouth. Eyes glowing red, they menacingly watch their prey through the mask.

  “Please! I’m begging you! I- I’ll leave and,” the mysterious stranger tilts their head to the side as the man begs and lets out a slow melodic laugh. The man’s body becomes shaken with a sobs, “please! I don’t want to die.”

 “Well Anders,” they say, “maybe you should have thought about that before you attempted to kidnap my companion.” 

   The man, Anders, goes to speak, but the words die on his lips as your dagger goes straight through his mouth, piercing the back of his throat, and severing the connections between his spinal cord and his brain. Astarion hears Gale take a sharp breath next to him. The man slumps over and the Masked figure takes their dagger out of Anders’ mouth- wiping the blood off in the grass. 

  After cleaning their dagger, they stand up and take of their mask.. Their eyes went from a bright, crimson to reveal a completely different color- natural and beautiful. Their ponytail is caked in blood and sweat- falling out of its knot in tiny pieces. If they hadn’t just stabbed a man straight through the mouth with the same terrifying eyes of his master- he would describe their appearance as ethereal.

   “That’s Rowan!” Shadow Heart whispers.

   Gale looks at Shadow Heart as if he is trying to determine if it’s a joke or not. When Shadow Heart doesn’t show any sign of sarcasm, he looks at her with a touch of fear in his eyes.

  “You were saved by a Night mask Deathbringer?” Gale says in disbelief, a hint of poison in his voice. 

 Interesting. Astarion thinks, I wonder if a Nightmask Deathbringer is similar to a Bhaal Deathbringer. 

  Astarion has very limited knowledge on Deathbringers, seeing as they weren’t the kind of people you wanted to associate yourself with as a Magistrate. Well, and Bhaal Deathbringers were not necessarily known for their kindness or restraint- killing anyone who so much as looks at them funny. 

No, you were different- composed and methodical. He admires your handiwork with the dagger- quick and to the point. He can appreciate that.

 “I AM NEVER GOING BACK!”

BOOM!

   The whole party seems to jump at the sudden noise and he watches as you whip around on your heels. You throw your hands up in exasperation.

   “She couldn’t wait like five minutes for me to loot the place?!” You say before  pinching the bridge of your nose. 

 CRASH!

  You groan out loud and Astarion flinches as another loud CRASH followed by more flames comes from the building. The destruction continues for another minute until a tall, crimson Tiefling comes out of the building. One horn broken, one horn intact.

 “Karlach,” Wyll hisses,”your ‘friend’ is working with Karlach.”

Lae’zel puts her sword out to prevent Wyll from sneaking forward. Lae’zel  glares at him.

“Careful, ishtik. They are deadly, but a valuable ally.”

Shadow Heart nods in agreement, “We can’t attack them. We should approach them at their camp. Maybe we can reason with them and then we can fight Karlach together.”

 “We don’t even know where their camp is,” Gale says, “we would need to be tracking them and not to be rude, but we certainly aren’t the quietest bunch.”

Astarion perks up- it’s his time to shine.

“No worries,” he states, “I’ll track them and find their camp.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Despite the groups’ reluctance, Astarion was able to track down your camp. You weren’t there, but Karlach was loudly singing while setting up her tent. After getting back to camp, they all mutually agreed to go back at sunset to confront them. 

    Astarion walks alongside Shadow Heart, offering up some harmless flirting. She asks him about his current “relationship” status, he offers an ingenious response, and she rolls her eyes, annoyed.

 “This is what I get for trying,” She sighs.

  Astarion rolls his own eyes. Shadow Heart is alluring, but Gods does she have a stick up her ass. He felt like saying he “prefers savory” was funny. 

  The entire group had decided to go so that, if it came to a fight, you and Karlach would be outnumbered. Astarion argued that he didn’t think it would matter and you would be able to kill them all by yourself. Everyone nervously looked at each other, refusing to entertain the idea that their journey could be coming to a quick, short end. Astarion was very interested in seeing where this rendezvous goes. He has a good feeling. Wyll suddenly puts his hand up to signal for silence. One-by-one, each of his companions creep towards the clearing and peer through the brush. 

  “Remember that we are here to talk first” Shadow Heart curtly says to Wyll, “we don’t know if they know Karlach is a Devil. They could turn against her.”

 “As long as they don’t mess with the blade, they won’t feel the sting.” Wyll says under his breath. 

 If Astarion was capable of puking, that would have been his cue. Except he was rather busy studying you. Your face being reflected by the fire made you look soft- a stark contrast to the version of you he saw earlier. You have delicate features with scars wrapping around your neck- one of the scars crawling along your face under your left eye. Your hair is in a ponytail with your bangs braided into the rest of your hair- blood and dirt free. The color of your hair is earthy and bright. Your laughter echoes like wind chimes in his ears and he finds himself pitching forward to hear more. Your body is strong, healthy, and lean- your strength evident under your worn camp clothes. 

You are beautiful, but your body language suggests that you think otherwise. Your posture suggests a lack of self-esteem and the way you seem to try to cave into yourself tells him you are shy. Maybe even painfully so. This would be easy. He didn’t even need instincts for this- it was Seduction and Manipulation 101. 

Well, well, well, I may just be the luckiest Spawn after all.

   Astarion is in need of powerful allies- you just happen to meet that need. It would be easy to seduce you with honeyed words and attention. He knows that his condition may eventually be found out and he would need someone to defend him. Not to mention that his sociopathic master is probably searching for him- his master’s favorite toy. He winces at his thoughts and tries to refocus on what he can do to get rid of these obstacles. His brain begins to formulate a plan- the same “plan” he’s used for the last two centuries.

Seduce them, sleep with them, manipulate their feelings,  he thinks.

He smirks to himself.. This was child’s play. After he manipulates you into helping him get rid of Cazador and this tadpole, he would discard you and live his life as a free man. He would never be tortured, oppressed, or violated ever again. 

 Gale interrupts Astarion’s thoughts with a pointed question at Wyll.

“Wyll… I am pretty sure Karlach is a Tiefling.”

  Wyll turns around and stares Gale down with a look of confusion. His confusion quickly turned into irritation.

   “Karlach is a Devil, Gale,” Wyll continues, “my source is very good and is rarely wrong.”

      Venom coats Wyll’s voice.

“Testy,”  Astarion says with a shit eating grin.“I, for one, think they would both make excellent allies- Devil or not.”

    Wyll looks at Astarion with daggers before turning back around to look at the camp. Wyll freezes and reaches for his blade.

     Astarion follows his gaze and to his surprise- the camp is empty and the campfire is out. 

  Suddenly, he watches Wyll hit the ground with a hard thud. Astarion stares in shock (and admittedly, a twisted happiness) as the empty space where Wyll stood was now occupied by you.

    Astarion feels a sense of dread for Wyll as you leer down at him with red, glowing eyes.

  “Well hello,” You say sweetly, a smile stretching its way across your face with your canines showing.

   He feels a shock ripple through his body as your voice hits his ears. Your voice is soft, but fear mongering. Commanding.

 “What’s all this about messing with the Sword and getting the Blade,” your smile becomes a tinge malicious, “it appears you aren’t very good at keeping your word. All you have done is bore me.”

 Wyll growls and lunged from the ground towards you. You simply side step him, put your foot out, and he trips. 

  You smile like a cat playing with a mouse.

“Fighting with emotion will never work for youuuuu,” you say in a sing-songey voice.

  Wyll getting up off the ground, wheezing, lunges for you again. This time you manage to flip Wyll behind you on his back by using his momentum against him. You laugh heartily, obviously enjoying yourself. Astarion could hardly look away. You could have killed him by now, but you haven’t. As much as he would love to continue to watch you torment the Blade of Frontiers, he is ready to put his plan in action.

  “Gods Wyll,” Astarion says with a bored groan, “have you honestly not learned your lesson?”

  A chuckle erupts from behind a nearby tree.  Karlach  comes around the corner and gently puts her hand on your shoulder.

 “It’s okay Soldier,” she says with amusement in her voice, “I think he learned his lesson.”

      You  roll your eyes and attempt to hide a joking smile with a faux pout, “You really aren’t any fun.”

   Karlach gives you a wide grin before she looks at Wyll and the rest of the party. Your eyes wander over the party and they stop at him. If you suspect him to be a vampire spawn, you don’t show it. He gives you a charming grin and you lift your eyebrows in amusement- the corner of your mouth tugging upwards.

 Let the games begin. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

   It had taken the entire party to convince Wyll that Karlach wasn’t a devil. Astarion found it ironic that the supposed hero was so quick to blindly follow someone’s orders- and to kill an innocent no less!

 Astarion feels exhausted, but he is struggling to sleep after his nightmare. The thirst, the hunger was unbearable, but he is too consumed with figuring out how to get back to Cazador. The panic is settling in his chest.  He needs to get back or he is going to be punished severely. He’s broken the rules and he will pay. Flashes of his time in the tomb begin to appear in his mind. 

 No, I am not going back. I can walk in the sun. He pauses and comes to a realization. He’s already broken two of Cazador’s rules and Cazador hasn’t been able to keep him controlled since the tadpole had been inserted in his brain. What if he can break other rules?

 He looks around camp- his eyes settling on your sleeping form. You may empathize with him.. 

   Earlier in the day, he pestered Gale while you and Karlach set up your tents at the bigger groups’ campground. Shadowheart was assisting you both as she talked with you in a hushed tone. Gale, despite his signs of exasperation with every question Astarion asked, explained that a Night Mask Deathbringer is different from the Bhaal Deathbringers that Astarion has read about. You were part vampire, but you aren’t completely undead.  Immortal, fast, strong, and just as lethal as a Vampire Spawn. You can drink blood and you can eat food. You can charm or scare a person with a single look and you can use Ghost Step to surprise your “victims' ' as Gale referred to them. Oh, and you could be out in the sun whenever you want. It may not be comfortable for you on a very sunny day, but you won’t burn alive. He had felt so green with envy when Gale described your capabilities. He would do anything to be able to have all the strength of a Vampire Spawn with none of the unwanted side effects. However, Gale told Astarion he does not know how one becomes a Night Mask Deathbringer as it’s a secret rite within the Guild, but the Faceless have to deem you worthy. The heads of the factions within the Guild bring their “Champions” to the Faceless each year and have them fight to the death. The last person standing gets to become a Deathbringer and take orders from the Faceless. When Astarion pushed Gale further about who the Faceless is, he shrugs.

 “Honestly, I have no idea. Elminster never told me who the Faceless is, just that he hasn’t been seen since Deathbringers began to appear to enact his will.” 

 “So basically fake vampires with all the benefits and none of the side effects,” his voice comes out in a sharp hiss.

 “Basically.”

  Astarion slowly rises from his bed roll and sneaks up to you. He’s quiet as a mouse. He gently put his arms on either side of you, your neck exposed and ready for him. Right when he thinks he’s going to get away with biting you while you are asleep, you wake up with a gasp and your eyes meet him with a confused sleepiness. 

   “Shit.”

 You get up to confront him. If looks could kill, he’d be dead for real this time. 

   “It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” 

  You give him an unconvinced look.

  “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just need some… well… blood.” he says sheepishly.

  He peers at your face and he sees your glare melt a bit. You are still guarded, but open to hearing him out.

  “I feed on animals! Boars, deers, kobolds- whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now,” He pauses, “too weak.”

    You continue to stare at him, so he continues.

  “If I just had a little blood I could think clearer. Fight better,” his voice comes out with more emphasis than he wanted it to, “Please.”

  He tries not to wince at how desperate he sounds. Your arms uncross and you put your hands on your hip, eyes narrowing while you look at him.

 “So you weren’t trying to kill me in the middle of the night?”

   Astarion gawks at you, a hint of amusement in your eyes. 

“That’s your question?” he hisses in disbelief.

“I knew you were a vampire spawn right away,” You look at him with a wry smile and point to your canines, “fake vampire, remember?”

   Astarion mentally face palms and chides himself for maybe inquiring about your condition too loudly.

  Of course you would be able to figure out he is a vampire spawn. You are half-vampire yourself and you heard him bitterly call you a fake vampire.

   You sit back down on your bed roll and sweep your hair away from your neck. He stares at you with confusion and wide eyes.

 Are you…? No it can’t…. Possibly be this easy?

“Well come on, aren’t you going to drink?”

[bullet-prooflove]

Jubal Valentine Masterlist

Before:

Stars Align - Jubal finds himself attracted to the woman he's trying to bring down.

From The Cold - Jubal asks you an important question.

One Day - Jubal checks in with you after you join the Criminal Division.

The Devil You Know - You are forced to make a decision after a visit from Rowan Quinn.

Reckless - Jubal goes to bat for you.

Somebody Like You - Jubal gets a little jealous when he finds out about you and Briggs.

Slow Dance - Jubal and you share a moment during a collegue's wedding.

2AM - Jubal picks you up when you call him at 2am.

Just In Case (feat: Stuart Scola) - Jubal and Scola discuss his feelings for you.

Second Chances - Jubal reveals how he feels in the aftermath of the shooting.

If There was Ever A Time - Companion Piece to fics Second Chances and 'Just in Case'. - Jubal recalls the conversation he had with Scola during your shooting.

Two Days Arc:

Two Days - Jubal and you discuss moving forward after an undercover op.

Two More Days - Companion piece to Two Days - Jubal and you end up in the back of his car.

Worth The Wait (NSFW) - Companion piece to Two Days and Two More Days - Jubal is certainly worth the wait.

After:

Don't Tell - Jubal keeps your relationship on the downlow until he can't.

Say My Name (NSFW) - Jubal wants you to say his name.

High - Things get dicey when you and Jubal run into an ex of yours.

UC!Series:

Part One: Right Here - Jubal comes home to find you waiting with news.

Part Two: Grit - Jubal remembers the first time you met and how you came to work in the Criminal Division.

Part Three: 3AM (NSFW) - Jubal waits up for you.

The Fall - Jubal slips when he finds out about Tyler's illness.

Torn!Apart Series:

Part One: Nothing To Tell - Rina forces Jubal to make a choice.

Part Two: Pause - Jubal breaks your heart.

Part Three: One Sip - Jubal knows all it takes is one sip.

Part Four: Real Talk - Scola gets real with Jubal.

Part Five: Don't Lie to Me (NSFW) - Jubal comes clean about Rina.

Part Six: Family - Jubal's nightmare comes true.

Time Out - Jubal knows when you're starting to spiral.

Love Language - You don't realise that Jubal speaks Italian.

Home - You and Jubal discuss the future.

[chntfessions]

OKAY I WAS WORKING ON THAT FAN EPISODE, AND UHH I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.

this is only a draft, feel free to give constructive criticism

some quick background, this would probably be like episode 5-7 ish in s2. elijah has not been seen again yet btw.

[CLICK]

[DING!]

SYDNEY

“Good morning everyone and everything! The time is 8:67, and the sky is a cardboard brown. Now, if yesterday you missed the giant gaping hole that opened up on the west side of camp because you were with councilors Soren and Fennel. Well, you do now! But because I was so caught up in reporting this mysterious pit, I forgot to share some of the paintings the people in cabin ladybug made! My third favorite here is by Gramm Backside. Their painting was a self portrait of themself, it looks just like them! The same teeth, eyes, and that blackened face where you can only see the eyes and teeth! Great job Gramm! Second, we have this painting by Floor Handle. Her work had a boy in the middle of the fields. As the eternal doom of the sky and the land is swarming behind him, and it feels as if its all going to crumble down on top of him. Pretty neat! And for my personal favorite, drumroll..!”

[drumroll noises]

“Marty McMark! His painting had me in a trance. The blood stained leaves on the forest ground, realistic eyes popping out of the sky - Rowan wouldn’t like that. The sky weirdly being blue too, odd. And the creature behind the bushes with a skinny neck, and an uncanny smile. What a cool painting! Marty when you get home, you better frame that! Alright so, for our breakfast. Matthew made us some lobster biscuits with metal chunks! Yknow, if I had the very slim chance to even see a lobster house, I would feel so bad for the little lobster in those tanks. To be picked up from that cramped place into a boiling pot. Don’t worry, Matthew assured me these lobsters were already dead before cooking! For the vegans you can eat the chunks of metal! Just don’t get around any magnets! For the activities today, we have rituals to bring the demons and devils up here from whatever they were doing!”

[CLICK]

[CLICK]

[DING!]

SYDNEY

“The time is 12:412. And the sky is a dirt color. Look, I am very happy that you guys did bring some of those demons and devils onto campgrounds, but I wasn’t expecting this… if you weren’t here last year, then you wouldn’t know some of the stories I told. There were a couple of times when I talked about up and Adam. Or at least how he introduced himself. Adam is a demon, apparently, makes sense. But he would show up in my dreams. Offer me things, and talk. I’m not going to name who, but I think we all know who is the trouble maker here. They set up their ritual, and it worked! But now… Adam’s here and we don’t know how to really react to this. It seems like he’s been waiting for this, and doesn’t want to go back. He’s in my office, not in this room, but in the building. We don’t want you kids into this, so us councilors will be working on this! Anywhos, today's lunch is crab crunch! ‘Eat with the shells!’ And activities are eating sand! Councilors Mila and Juno will be looking after you all, keep safe!!”

[audible steps]

ADAM

“What a nice cabin you have here!”

SYDNEY

“Wha- Adam you’re supposed to be on the cot!”

ADAM

“Mm, but that’s boring, not a good way to treat guests.”

SYDNEY

“We weren’t expecting you- Adam, I wasn’t even expecting you to be real so please just stay patient with me. On the cot. Oh shoot. Really quick, kids, Salem is asking you all - please stop throwing stuff into the hole. We have no idea where it goes!”

[CLICK]

yeahhh :DD

i will be posting this to ao3

YEAHHH THIS IS AWSOME

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

Oprah the devil act one scene one

I think we can all agree that this woman here is part of the problem, I’m by the look what she said and then look what she’s done, wanted to take Michael Jackson down, and David Gaffin well, her connections with him as suss, apparently according to blind item lore, Gavin who funded the documentary along with Oprah leaving Neverland, I’m not saying I don’t believe Michael Jackson didn’t do what he did because I do I know these powerful people, abuse their own meaning people in the industry with them because of their connections but to a civilian they might or someone is not enter the chat Evan Rachel wood, it is tale as oldest time, and unfortunately it doesn’t seem to be stopping, they seem to just migrate, yes you the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz Russell Simmons yes Tom Hanks, Tom Hanks didn’t you even in the Simpsons movie?, Covid oh unsurprised surprise you were the first person you have it., moved to Greece where the age of consent is 14 we know about you and your weird picture taking.

But as you can see, all these people know about Weinstein and Hollywood I believe, I mean in Gwyneth Paltrow speech where she thinks Harvey Weinstein she’s holding back the tears and I believe she’s holding back the tears because she realised she had to thank that fat bastard who treated her so badly, that Brad Pitt even had to step in and have a few words at him about his behaviour with women about his grotesque ways. I’m so glad Rowan Farrow doesn’t have any problem or didn’t have any problem in taking him down. Many people tried to and we couldn’t but he had his mother., had a sister to one stepsister one adoptive I believe, Rowan Farrow allegedly came out of Woody Allen’s ball sack no way, he looks far too much like Sinatra and he has so much more respect for women, as do most gay men well not all, in fact I can think of some who can be really disgusting. Enter Barney from how I Met your mother., Winehouse cake after she died Hollywood and you’re all coming out and you be seen for wicked ways but Oprah promoted so many things games having weird people on your show fans and people like Russell Wilson and Harvey Weinstein come on girl have a bit of class, we need to bring down this corruption in Hollywood but your supporting foundation of it these women why do you need to support these men so badly as well.

There’s even a cult leader called son of God John of God who essay women and children Oprah knew this she didn’t care she didn’t care , she just moves on that’s proper Hollywood where you don’t even say it. That’s your PR team. You just don’t talk about it. It happens but we don’t talk about it. It happens but let’s move on. It happens but what a shame but now I’m going to stand over here. I’m sorry the people are getting sick of it and your way your way being at parties and looking like you’re high on cake with Harvey Weinstein that’s a typo I’m gonna leave in., he would be high on cake, you obviously know I meant Coke right,. You know the white snowy stuff.

This woman has such audacity it’s beyond belief, and I’m sorry to say I hate to say it I really do but this is why Rita Ora has gone so far with little talent, yachting it up and then, understand and look at the first picture and read it and you’ll see what I mean, that means and now it’s just common folklore in blind items. Oprah, we do we see you and Gayle king .jail king if you know you know.🙇🏼‍♂️🤬😠👹🤮

[daydream-cement]

i absolutely love ur fanfic, they r just so good, please never stop writing them! ♥️ i have a little request if you could possibly write a oneshot where larissa and fern have a serious argument in fern’s classroom. and then the next day she gets called to larissa’s office where larissa attempts to apologise but fern is still unhappy/mad and wants to be alone. then another argument occurs within the office but as fern states something that really pushes larissa over the edge, larissa can’t help but get closer to her to show who has more ‘control’ but u can guess where i think this could go. 😭 maybe larissa looks fern in the eyes and warns her but then this is where they just can’t ‘let go’ of each other. thank u smmm and honestly, i love ur work so much!!

Over the Edge

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Authors Note: Sorry if you wanted smut anon. I love this prompt, but ya smutty author isn't feelin' too smutty rn so you get fluff? or is it healthy communication? or is it neither? maybe just fighting? who knows? NSFW at end.

"Excuse me? Would you like to teach my class instead?" You glare at Larissa as you try to keep your angered breathing under control. Larissa had just stated that she found your teaching methods unruly and ineffective. You knew for a fact that many of your students were now finding interest in plant sciences when they previously found it a droll subject.

Larissa's jaw was clenched as she picked her next words carefully, so you continued talking before she could stop you, "I think I have a perfectly fine grip on my classroom. Thank you!"

"Two students were nearly eaten by a carnivorous plant today!" Larissa shouted back in response.

"Oh, please. They were fine! Even if they were eaten, the decop process takes hours." That was not the correct answer, but you could care less. You were dedicated to winning this argument.

"Honestly, Fern!"

"Honestly, Larissa!" You were acting so childish and you knew it. She just made you so angry sometimes. Larissa's hands were on her hips as she stared down at you. By her heavy breathing, you knew that she could have killed you on the spot for acting like one of the students.

"I'm not talking to you about this anymore."

"Great. Didn't want to talk about it with you anyway!" You shout as she walks out of the greenhouse.

-----

That night you stayed with Rowan, not wanting to go back and continue the fight with Larissa. You couldn't sleep, however. You were absolutely fuming. How dare she speak to you that way? Just because she is your boss doesn't mean she knows how to run your classroom.

After an hour or so of you complaining about Larissa's controlling nature, Rowan told you to call your mother or talk to someone else about it. Repeating multiple times that both of you were being hurtful and ridiculous.

It was late in the afternoon the next day when you received a call to your classroom phone that your presence was requested in Larissa's office. There was a large portion of you that wanted to not show up, just to stir the pot and piss her off more. You decided to listen to the angel on your shoulder rather than the devil and you headed up to her office.

She was waiting for you, seated on the front of her desk with her arms folded over her chest, "Dr. Rogers."

You roll your eyes as you close the door, annoyed by her fake formality. You turn on your heels and offer her the same in return, "Principal Weems."

You see her jaw shift back and forth as she tried to read you. Her next words shocked you, "I'm sorry, Fern. Last night, I said some really hurtful things an-"

You didn't want to hear it. You still wanted to fight an you still wanted to be angry, "Yes, you called me ineffective and naïve. You insulted my teaching style when I am a damn good teacher."

"That's not what I meant and you know that." Larissa spat back. If you wanted to yell and get angry, she could certainly match your energy. You begin walking towards her, the anger rising in you.

"Do tell what you really meant, Principal Weems. I'd love to hear your perspective on managing a classroom of various outcast children. Oh, wait. You only have three years classroom experience from 15 years ago! What would you know?" You wanted to shove the words back in your mouth as soon as you said them. That was crossing the line and you knew it.

"You little..." Larissa moves off her desk and stands over you. You sometimes forget that she is over a foot taller than you. Her breath is ragged and her hands rested on her hips. You could tell that she was struggling to find the words, "Watch it."

"What are you going to do?" Again you wondered why you couldn't just keep your mouth shut.

"You are driving me absolutely mad." Her tone was different. She was making you nervous. Larissa's looming presence was unrelenting and your mind began to wander. Her dominating presence and heaving chest was reminding you of all the unspeakable things she could do to you. Her hand came up to your throat and you felt yourself involuntarily lean into her grasp, "I simply don't know where you get the audacity to speak to me like that."

You lick your lips, searching for the right words. Was it time to apologize? You felt you anger lower from a boil to a simmer, but you were having trouble reading Larissa.

"Fern Rogers. I swear... Never in my life have I had a teacher speak to me like this before." The grip on your throat tightened and she used her thumb to raise you chin so you would be forced to look at her. You felt like a deer in the headlights. It was similar to the nervousness you felt when you first started seeing each other.

The words spill from your mouth, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Larissa, I'm sorry. I just got so mad and then I said some things that weren't right. I just-"

"Fern..."

"I know. It wasn't right for me to say you are inexperienced. You are a deeply talented educator and I-"

"Fern..."

"Let me finish, I just think-"

"Fern, I need you to be quiet because I'm going to kiss you now."

You cock your head, face filled with confusion as Larissa's lips crash against yours. Her hand moves away from your neck so it can cup your face. She was the one to deepen the kiss, her arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

When she pulled away, your lips chased hers, seeking more. Larissa's voice was sickly sweet, "We are going home where I can fuck your brains out and we are never going to speak to one another like this again."

[maelstroumwaterfall]

Arbormagic Sydrome (The End Of The Wizarding World) Chapter 5 | Hogwarts Mystery Infection AU

Chapter 5. Trust and Support

It's been two days since the Kneazle Incident. Many students couldn't properly participate in lessons as they were traumatized by what they saw. Professor Kettleburn was considered responsible for what happened. As the two students were seriously injured he's been suspended from his job at Hogwarts.

Barnaby and Maelström were transferred to the hospital wing and treated. Barnaby's condition was better than Waterfall's, but his wounds were still serious and the Kneazle leaved very deep scratches along his arms. His hands were bandaged and have to get disinfected over time.

Maelström's face was almost fully bandaged, nobody was allowed to visit him since the incident and he was in coma since he was brought to the hospital wing.

The whole situation even broke Rakepick's plans but gave her some time to deal with the situation with Merula's wand. She wouldn't even care about it but when she examined Snyde's wand she couldn't help but felt that she saw it somewhere. She usually recognises every type of curses she meets, but this one made her confused and doubted.

Anyway she still searches for the answers. Even though she now has less job as Five Year's students were briefly suspended from classes, finding the information about the 'curse' she met was more than just difficult.

Merula was thinking about what happened for a long while. The Kneazle's attack proofed that something wasn't right, but she couldn't search for the answers all alone. Later, he was going to tell Ismelda about what happened in the common room, but now she's moving towards the hospital wing to meet Barnaby.

She hoped she wasn't the only one who noticed the Kneazle's behaviour. Before it attacked Waterfall it looked not aggressive but rather scared. If someone also noticed it, it has to be Barnaby. At least there was some use in his knowledge about animals.

Snyde was already about to enter the hospital wing she noticed that Rowan was walking away from the room. He noticed how determined she was when she walked towards the room and wondered if she was also looking for Maelström.

- Merula? Are looking for Maelström? - he called out. He sounded quite uncertain and awkward, Merula wasn't the one he could casually talk to.

Snyde suddenly stopped and turned towards him. She even forgot there were other students as she only saw her destination and no obstacles.

- No? Are you? He is supposed to be in the hospital wing, isn't he?

- Yes, he is.. but.. I didn't find him there. I wanted ask Barnaby but he was sleeping and I leaved. - he sighed and Merula couldn't help but felt a some kind of empathy towards him. Maelström was a selfish, arrogant, conceited liar and yet, he had such a loyal and trustworthy friend like Rowan.

She saw how worried and conflicted he was and once again felt regret that the Devil's Snare didn't manage to end Waterfall's miserable existence.

- Listen, Rowan. We both know something isn't right with Maelström. You have to be the first one to notice that. - she didn't want to stay silent about it anymore. She had to make sure everyone knows the truth, even though she wasn't sure if she knows it herself.

- I.. - he wanted to deny her words but he indeed noticed but how strange was Maelström's behaviour recently. His emotions became somehow unstable, he was constantly complaining about thirst and hunger, scratching his skin, and besides all of this, Waterfall was very aggressive towards magical creatures. - I want to trust him.. But..

Merula looked at him closer and gave a slight nod, already knowing what he's going to say.

- You're right. - he finished. He was still very uncertain, he felt like he's betraying Maelström, but aslo felt like something really is wrong.

- Oh, finally. - she smirked at him. - And don't say I didn't tell you that before.

- But you didn't?.. - he already felt like regretting saying this but Merula only rolled her eyes.

- Anyways, I think I might be very close to finding the answers. Not like I care about this freaky thing Waterfall.

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

Barnaby just woke up and leaned at the back of the bed. He still felt this burning pain in his hands but he didn't regret helping Waterfall. It was the least he could do for his friends. He was a little surprised that he didn't notice Maelström anywhere in the room, but decided that he was probably transferred to the hospital in Hogsmeade where he could get better treatment. Suddenly the door in the hospital wing was opened and he flinched a little when Penny rushed inside the room and moved to the other end of the room with a quick pace.

It wasn't even a minute when she came back with an even more angered look than before. She stopped near Barnaby's bed and clearly had something to tell him. Barnaby couldn't help but noticed the red scratches on her skin. Even now while she while she looking at him she was scratching her skin. Hands, face, neck, everything had these red marks.

- WHERE'S MAELSTRÖM?! - she asked almost yelling. Barnaby even though it wasn't her as it was the first time he saw her like this.

- Well, he's not here.. - he responded, still being a little confused. He didn't even manage to gather his thoughts as everything happened too quickly.

- What do you mean he's not here?! - she shouted back while her nails kept leaving red scratches on her cheeks.

- Um.. Obviously, I mean he's not here.. - he responded, not really understanding the question. Her expression was enough to tell him that she's not satisfied with such answer. - I don't know where he is. He was probably transferred to the other hospital..

- Don't know?! How do you fucking not know if you've been here together all the time?! YOU, USELESS PIECE OF. - she didn't manage to finish her sentence as she was interrupted by Barnaby, to this moment it looked like she almost caused her scratches to bleed.

- There's no need to yell, Penny.. - Barnaby said, feeling a little hurt at her words. He never thought she could think about him like this.

- Yell?! I don't ye.. - suddenly, she stopped like she just came back to reality. She even stopped scratching her skin for a moment and her expression became less annoyed and aggressive.

- I-I.. - her features softened and her look slowly turned into a really worried one as she saw Barnaby's upset look, and she felt extremely guilty after she understood what she just said to him.

- I'm so sorry, Barnaby I.. I don't know what's wrong with me.. - she managed to say while one could heard a slight trembling in her voice. Her eyes watered before a few tears fell down her cheeks. - I don't know what's going on with me.. . I-.. I... I yelled at Tonks.. Insulted Ben.. and even Rowan.. It's.. It's all because of this curse.. I wanted to ask Maelström to stop searching for the vaults, but couldn't find him anywhere!.

- Hey, hey, it's fine, Penny... - Barnaby said softly, helping her to sit down at the bed. He couldn't bear seeing her tears and even felt like crying himself. - You can tell me everything, just please, calm down.. - he saw how difficult this all was for her and he felt genuine empathy towards her. He carefully pulled her in his embrace and gently hugged her.

- Please, Penny.. Don't cry. You'll get through this.. We will. - he said, really trying to reassure her. She indeed looked very tired and scratching her skin was obviously painful for her, but she just couldn't stop herself. Seeing her suffering was more than just painful for Lee.

She leaned on him and she couldn't believe she was finally able to rest after everything. She felt constantly nervous, afraid and tired. She felt so guilty for hurting her friends and this support from Barnaby was very important for her. She layed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. - Thank you, Barnaby..

(Thx for reading 💝 😊 The next part is going to be about Tonks and Rakepick and I'll try to write them 'till the end of my weekends (this Wednesday :'<) I also need to work on my school project but it doesn't mean I'll not spend more time drawing and writing things I'll not need in my life >:>

[blairstales]

Red Threads in Scottish Folklore 🧵

In historical Scottish folklore, the colour red was thought to be protective, so many red charms were once used to sain(protect and/or cleanse). This also counted even if it was a simple red thread.

“Red, being the colour of blood – the essence of life- is the supreme magical colour. In Scotland, necklaces of red coral or red rowan-berries, strung on red thread, were worn as amulets.” "The Silver Bough: Volume 1 " by F. Marian McNeill (1957-1968)

I have talked about rowan in the past, but one way the red thread is often mention is paired with rowan. The rowan might be wrapped or woven with the thread, then put with whatever it is that you want to protect. For example, you might make a charm to go above your door(especially on cross-quarter days), or maybe create a collar to place on your cows neck.

In Islay, not twenty years ago, a man had a rowan-tree collar for securing his cow at night, and every time the animal visited the bull he passed this collar thrice through the chimney crook. On Beltane-day annually he dressed all the houses with rowan. “Witchcraft & Second Sight in the Highlands & Islands of Scotland” by John Gregorson Campbell (1902)

However, even on it’s own, the thread was considered powerful. Red thread was used to protect from fairies, witchcraft, the devil, the evil eye, and even adders. An adder in Scottish folklore is not typically referring to the real-life snake that shares the same name, but instead a huge snake-like dragon that is more commonly called a Beithir in Scotland.

“Various sicknesses of humans, sheep and cattle in Lewis and other of the Outer Isles were once put down to the bites of non-existent adders, especially where symptoms included some kind of skin peeling or flaking. The custom, as elsewhere, was to put a red woollen thread through the hole, dip the stone in water, bathe the affected part and give the patient some of the water to drink.” “Healing threads : traditional medicines of the Highlands and Islands” by Beith, Mary 1995

As well as a way to protect from something, it was also a cure. As if simply touching the red would break whatever hold something had on you, the thread was sometimes even prescribed for sickness.

If you want more quotes and links to historical Scottish audio recordings on this subject, I have a list on my website (at the bottom of the post).

[kats-fic-recs]

The Best Daredevil Fics I read in 2022

How to Make a Family by Matt Murdock

Step 1. Have a dad.

Step 2. Lose your dad. Be miserable. Great job, everyone. We’re doing amazing so far.

(Matt's arduous journey towards being a functional person, with many stops and starts along the way.)

Candy Land

Matt is having fun with this, at least in some way. Sucking on Life Savers and smirking, and no guilt at all. If Matt could feel guilt, none of this would be happening. Things might be okay again.

But he doesn’t, and this is what Foggy is left with: a candy-stained mouth and a creature that’s more devil than man.

And Foggy still loves him

Invisible Ink

“Hello, welcome to Josie’s, I’m Foggy, what are you looking for?”

“Uh, nothing,” the guy replies, and Foggy is nonplussed for the nanosecond it takes to put together glasses, cane, and the way Hottie McHotFace is gazing absently over his shoulder.

“Oh, oh, you’re blind, dude, sorry. But, uh, this is a tattoo parlour?”

“I know.” The guy sighs. “I lost a bet?”

Or: The One Where Foggy Is A Tattoo Artist And Matt Is The Worst

Just to Listen to Your Breath

After the events of Season 2, Matt and Foggy aren't speaking. But that doesn't mean Matt's not hanging around.

Knock Three Times (On the Ceiling If You Want Me)

Matt's downstairs neighbor sings showtunes (badly) at all hours, eats weird-smelling food, and never stops talking.

Matt falls in love long before they actually meet.

Rowan and Red Oak

Foggy meets a man with a red oak wand and a sweet smile. Over the next eight years, Foggy makes a lot of coffee, reads a lot of tea leaves, breaks a lot of rules and casts a lot of charms. He also spends a good amount of his time pining over his perfect partner and trying to keep his wild outbursts of emotional magic to a minimum.

Stupid Cupid

Foggy plays karma bingo and wins a cupid.

His cupid is possibly the worst matchmaker in the world.

Other People's Blood

Foggy finds himself reminiscing on the ten years he's known Matt Murdock - son of and assassin for the Kingpin. The things they've learned about each other and the violence they've wrought together. Something sharp, and twisted, and beautiful.

A love story written in other people's blood.

The Constellation of Touch

Months after Fisk is put away, nothing's right between the partners at Nelson and Murdock. But Christmas is here, and Matt is still expected at the Nelson house.

darling you're stars

Matt wanted only Foggy’s purple flannel and if he could not have that, then he would have nothing. He would go cold.

(Foggy tries to understand the underlying causes of Matt's bizarre relationship with clothes.)

just meant to smile

“So we agree that Matt is still an Elle, though?” Foggy said.

The current working theory among their cohort was that there were Elles, Emmetts, Vivians, and Warners and if you weren’t one of them you were an extra and you were doomed to fail.

“Yeah, no. He’s still an Elle.”

“Okay, so at the risk of sounding desperate, does this make me an Emmett yet?” Marci gave him a pitying look. She reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, Vivian,” she promised. “The plot will go on once we get our internships.”

(The Legally Blonde AU that no one asked for.)

Take All The Courage

When what should have been a straight forward mission in Hell's Kitchen goes pear shaped due to lack of communication, teaching his teammates sign language seems like a logical step to Clint. Communication when their comms are down - great plan! And including the local vigilante, who's been working closely with them on this, is a real no-brainer.

Until it turns out said vigilante is an asshole that thinks sign language is beneath him, judging by the way he's stubbornly refusing to learn it.

(Conversely - Matt's trying, he really is but damn it, those two signs are exactly the same... what do you mean they mean completely different things?!)

None So Blind

They say when you assume you make an ass of you and me.

Matt wishes that the Avenger's assumptions about his seeming inability to read the written word did something as benign as making an ass of him and them. Being called illiterate shouldn't hurt, not when he knows he's not, and it's not like he can tell them the truth.

Not that the truth would make much difference. He's just going to have to grin and bear it.

If he can.

Speyeria Cybele

Matthew's not the first Murdock to tell Father Lantom he had the Devil in him. Only Jack's Devil was nothing like the one Matthew sees in himself.

Jack's Devil was magic. Literally.

(Or a history of Father Lantom's relationship with magic, the Devil and the Murdock boys)

anthropomorphism

Matthew Michael Murdock was a person who had been taken, killed or next to killed, and turned into a droid.

Foggy sobbed as quietly as he could into the toilet.

Like a Handprint on My Heart

The day Foggy’s supposed to start working at Hogarth, Chao, and Benowitz, he wakes up, walks into the bathroom, starts to take a leak, glances down to check his aim, and freezes when he sees black letters on the inside of his right elbow.

His bladder forgotten, he brings his arm up, closer to his face and horizontal, as if he couldn't tell what the word was immediately. As if he'd somehow misread it, even though it's only four letters.

Matt.

Look Around, It's You I Can't Replace

Matt handles his separation from Foggy after the breakup of Nelson and Murdock a bit less well than he anticipated. As in he doesn't really handle it at all.

What All This Time Was For

On the rare occasions he reminisces about high school Foggy kind of wonders if he isn't just filling in the worst parts of teen comedies.

Foggy goes to his high school reunion.

[gwyns]

make 3 acotar confessions that would get you in trouble *evil laugh*

1. amren isn't the devil the fandom makes her out to be

2. ianthe is kind of a girlboss when you think about it like if she wasn't a literal rapist, i would've stanned her so hard

3. a lot of y'all act like tamlin was this master manipulator when... no? he's as traumatized as any other character in this series, it's just he doesn't know how to cope properly and therefore he acts out/makes bad decisions and we have *waves hands at entire series* all that

bonus! a couple non acotar related takes:

4. rowan is sjm's most boring character to date

5. bryce was valid in her feelings and actions in hofas. does it make them right? of course not but why don't y'all try dealing with all THAT. then we'll talk about how aNnOyInG she was 🙄

[wicked-witch-for-hire]

Book recommendations for Galemancers

Happy belated Thanksgiving!

This is a thinly veiled attempt to recommend some personal favourites of mine. They are all fantasy novels with the occasional romance woven into it, but they do not belong in the romantasy genre (but if you have a great romantasy rec, or any other recs, please share it).

I have concentrated on newer releases but there will be a list of honorary mentions for all the classics at the end.

I.

- Gale is perfect, and I want exactly that!

Naomi Novik - Uprooted

“Our Dragon doesn’t eat the girls he takes, no matter what stories they tell outside our valley. We hear them sometimes, from travelers passing through. They talk as though we were doing human sacrifice, and he were a real dragon. Of course that’s not true: he may be a wizard and immortal, but he’s still a man, and our fathers would band together and kill him if he wanted to eat one of us every ten years. He protects us against the Wood, and we’re grateful, but not that grateful.”

This is a delightful standalone fantasy based on mostly Polish fairy tales. Our heroine, Agnieska has been plucked from her home by their village's feudal lord to serve him for 10 years. Said lord also happens to be a prickly, impatient wizard who begins to teach Agnieska magic after he discovers to both of their dismay that she is talented.

I don't want to spoil the plot for you, but let's just say that there is an Evil Wood, a handsome prince who wants to save his long lost mother, and nothing will happen as you would expect to happen. It is imaginative, enchanting, engrossing and even funny.

II.

- I like Gale, but I wished to have adventures with Tara!

H.G. Parry - The Magician’s Daughter

“In every fairy tale ever told, it's a bad idea to tangle with a magician's daughter."Nobody, not Hutch, not Rowan, not even herself, had ever referred to her in those terms before. And yet hearing it made her relationship with Rowan so clear and so bright that it hurt. She still didn't know who he was, or why he had done so many of the things he had done. But she knew who he had raised her to be. If he wasn't her father, then she at least was his daughter.”

Have you been wondering if a wizard can be a good father? While an aloof wizard might not be the best choice to adopt a shipwrecked little girl at first glance, Rowan and his intelligent, loyal and kindhearted familiar Hutchington together are more than enough. (You have heard me right, Tumblr! :-P) Thus Biddy grows up on Hy-Brasil an enchanted little island not far from the coast of Ireland.

"Biddy loves her strange little home, despite being unable to use magic herself, but lately spends her time yearning to explore the outside world and meet actual humans (rabbits being notoriously poor conversationalists, after all, and magicians being, well, erratic at the best of times). After Rowan runs into a spot of trouble, inadvertently dragging Biddy into a magical mess almost a century in the making, her wish to explore is granted, but Biddy quickly learns that the outside world is not at all like the storybooks she grew up reading." (Lightspeed magazine)

This is a nice, meandering fairytale of a found family, coming of age and beautiful worldbuilding. It is full of magic, peril and adventure. I was very grateful to experience losing myself in book like a young girl again.

III.

- I love Gale, but I have respecced him... (how dare you! you heathen!) But I still like brooding heroes I need to save from themselves...

Alix E. Harrow - Starling House

"The gates of Starling House don’t look like much from a distance—just a dense tangle of metal half-eaten by rust and ivy, held shut by a padlock so large it almost feels rude—but up close you can make out individual shapes: clawed feet and legs with too many joints, scaled backs and mouths full of teeth, heads with empty holes for eyes. I’ve heard people call them devils or, more damningly, modern art, but they remind me of the Beasts in The Underland, which is a nice way of saying they’re unsettling as all hell.

I can still see the shine of the window through the gate. I step closer, weaving my fingers between the open jaws and curling tails, staring up at that light and wishing, childishly, that it was shining for me. Like a porch light left on to welcome me home after a long day.

I have no home, no porch light. But I have what I need, and it’s enough.

It’s just that, sometimes, God help me, I want more.

I’m so close to the gate now that my breath pearls against the cold metal. I know I should let go—the dark is deepening and Jasper needs dinner and my feet are numb with cold—but I keep standing, staring, haunted by a hunger I can’t even properly name.

It occurs to me that I was right: dreams are just like stray cats. If you don’t feed them they get lean and clever and sharp-clawed, and come for the jugular when you least expect it."

One part Southern Gothic, one part dark fairy tale and also intensely romantic story of two acidic, stubborn people battling monsters and each other.

"We meet Opal, a young woman who’s stuck in the tiny town of Eden, scraping a living so she can get her bright younger brother into a better school. Eden is nowhere, notable only for its connection to the author E. Starling, who wrote a single cult-hit children’s book, then disappeared nearly a century before. The house she lived in, Starling House, still stands, but it and its keepers have long had a mysterious air about them. So when Opal starts dreaming about the house, she wonders what it means. Then, the mysterious resident of the house, Arthur, hires her to clean the place for far more money than her old job, Opal can’t resist. But the house holds secrets—and danger—that she couldn’t possibly have imagined." Link

List of Honorary mentions

Ursula K. Le Guin - A Wizard of Earthsea (1st book of the The Earthsea Cycle)

Diana Wynne Jones - Howl’s Moving Castle

Thanks to @mavka-world

If you want even more:

Charlie N. Holmberg - The Paper Magician (1st book of the The Paper Magician trilogy)

- this is a YA fantasy, some parts of it reminded me of Anne of Green Gables (mostly because it is set in Edwardian times), and there is a bit of an anime flavour to it. All 3 books together is a pleasant albeit a bit formulaic story of girl named Ceony Twill who becomes the apprentice of a famed paper magician, falls in love with him, and of course has to save him :-) It is the perfect book to read if you are in a turkey coma!

Jim Butcher - Dresden Files

- while Butcher has problems writing non-stereotyped female characters (especially in the earliest books) I can forgive some of these tropes in a noire urban fantasy, where our hero happens to be a wizard working as a private investigator. Don't read them, but listen to them because the audio books are narrated by James Marsters (Spike from Buffy) and they are so damned good...