#oc (mentioned): Cedric

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Only In Death Does Duty End

Author’s note: Zadakael’s debut! He’s going to show up in a couple of different AUs.

Warnings: Fighting, bloodshed, Blood Angel In Black Rage, tracking and hunting of animals, Let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: Zadakael falls in battle on Holy Terra, and awakes on a planet he doesn’t recognize, not realizing he’s on Ancient Terra. Yet. After nearly dying, and waking up he’s starving and thirsting and goes hunting.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog

Tagged Again: @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Zadakael had been fighting at the Siege of Terra, fighting the Traitor Legions, when he had felt his beloved Primarch Fall. Had felt the pain, the rage, the heartbreak, the beginning of what would become The Curse of the Blood Angels and their successor chapters, they'd always had the Red Thirst, but the Black Rage started as a parting... gift? Curse? Of their Gene-father to his sons. Zadakael, like many of his brothers who fought alongside their Primarch on Holy Terra it's self-had either buckled to their knees and howled out their grief and rage momentarily before rising to their feet as the First of the Black Rage turned them all into a Frenzy they saw Horus in all enemies that were in front of them.

Their blows becoming stronger, as the please and words of the Arch Traitor are but words on the wind and they'd not heed his treacherous words. Zadakael bellowed out his rage and sorrow as he continued to strike down the Bastard and howled is rage and fury as the tears that flowed down his face blurred his vision momentarily. He cared not for the wounds he received, for his blade will strike with mighty fury that will deal blows that slay more than what he received will ensure that those that caused his beloved Primarch's death will die and have the same amount of mercy extended to his beloved Primarch.

He doesn't really feel it when a lucky blow from an enemy sink through his broken Ceramite armor and pierces his armor. He glares at them with hate filled red eyes, even as his final breaths he tries to do just a bit more damage to the Arch Traitor.

"Die!" He spits out at the Arch traitor as his vision fades to darkness and he welcomes the void of death, and to rejoin his beloved father in the afterlife.

He wakes up with a gasp, and lets out the softest of pained whimpers as tears fall down his face. Somehow, he was alive, even though he'd thought he was dying at the blade of an enemy. A small part of him had been glad of it, that he'd be able to rejoin with his beloved Primarch. But he'd heard a loving murmur from his father who'd said that his Duty had not quite yet ended, and that he'd be needed as one of many in a new duty, a new station, a new planet. He'd wanted to say something as he clung to his most holy father, who'd glowed most beautifully in the light of the afterlife.

With those tears he'd allowed to fall he'd bowed his father and obeyed his Decree and he is still alive. He's not on Terra- these trees that he sees are not ones he recognizes. He continues to stay where he lies as his body knits back together with his enhanced Healing. Focusing on his hearts first, and as his lungs knitted together as well his breathing became easier the healing energy focuses on his worse injuries first. By the Throne he is so very thirsty. He'll need to find something to drink, especially with how much energy he's used in order to heal, and in order to heal fully he'd need more blood.

He grimaces a little, as he slowly gets up, careful of his injuries as he tests how his body is reacting and flexes his fingers and toes, slowly, gingerly moving his arms and legs, noting what sings with pain, and the lack of it. His Ceramite armor is completely fucked, and his Vox is busted, but it's still useable enough to wear as he pulls off his helmet and closes his eyes and takes in a couple of deep breaths, trying to see if he can smell any animals nearby. Opening his eyes as he starts to look around, his keen red eyes alighting on a quadrupedal foot track, and as he carefully tracked the prints, hoof prints, likely some sort of herbivore as he follows the tracks and finds scat and tufts of fur.

He continues to track the herd of quadrupedal herbivores, they have bone protrusions from their heads, antlers of some form. He tracks them, a patient hunter as he scares them, into running and carefully chases after them, the slowest of them he’s going to feast upon. Biding his time until one of the creatures’ collapses, tries to get up and collapses again. He carefully angles his approach and pounces on the creature. He ignores is bleating cries as he drinks from the creature, salty-iron flavor of a carbon-based life form.

He’s so thirsty as he drinks, and drinks and drinks, making sure not to spill a drop of the thirst-quenching life’s blood, easily able to hold the creature that slowly stops thrashing in his arms as he drains it dry of blood. After he’s not entirely filled his belly, but has had enough blood that the Red Thirst is no longer something that is a Need, but a Want that he can ignore he takes one of his long knives and thanks the creature for it’s life’s blood as he starts to prepare the animal, carving the hide carefully from it’s flesh.

He’s not going to waste the flesh, bones, sinew, and hide of the beast that he drank from, as that would be wasteful and the meat, he can cure with a pouch of spices that he’d always carried with him, just in case he needed them. Starting a fire was easy with the wood and brush around him as he cooks the meat and starts to cure the hide with what limited resources he’s got to him. He uses all pieces of the carcass that he can, calculating how long he can use what he can, for his own purposes, and his head snaps up as he hears rustling in the bushes, growls softly but stops as he sees a couple of Scout-aged cousins come stumbling out of the bush and stare at him wide eyed and startled.

“Sit, eat, then talk,” He orders the young ones, one of them isn’t wearing armor for some reason and is wearing strange black and white heraldry that he doesn’t recognize, while the other is clearly wounded from the way he’s limping.

“Th-there are Chaos Marines, nearby sir,” One of them says with a stutter.

“Chaos Marines?” He asks with a frown as he shoves food into their hands.

“Traitors,” The one in Black and white clarifies with a twitchy, low growl in his voice.

“You two, stay here, tend to the fire, eat,” He scowls at that, “I’ll deal with them.”

“Uh- when did you arrive Here?” The one in Black and white asks.

“Several hours ago,” He replies, “Do you know where we are.”

The two scouts look at each other and at him, the other Scout, who’s armored seems very Confused. While the one in Black and White Fidgets, “Can you comm anyone on your Vox, sir?”

“It needs to be repaired first,” He says with a shake of his head.

“Uhm… some of the other older brothers- and cousins of the Loyalist chapters say that there is an alliance between Traitors and Loyalist.” The one in black and white reports, while his expression shows his concern and disbelief.

“… That sounds. Not right.” He says with a frown. “Stay here. I’ll handle the Traitors.”

He heads off in the direction the Scouts came from, starting to hear voices, that are twisted as he readies his weapons. “I Shall bring you death Traitors!”

He snarls at them, sending the mixed group of traitors scattering and swearing at him as he hisses and growls at them, chasing after them with his bolter and blade. The cowards flee before him, not in the direction of the confused young Scouts.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Candy Store

Author's note: this is the next part of Mer-Cedric’s journey in the Celestial Seas AU with his bonded. First. Previous. Celestial Seas Masterlist

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

warnings: food mention, ask me to tag something if I missed it/something bothers you

Summary: Cedric brings you to his favorite candy store in the small seaside town you and he are visiting.

“How much interaction have you had with humans, before me?” You ask, looking up at the large black and white scaled mer as he flew alongside you as you and he made your way into the small seaside town you were planning on spending a couple of weeks to months working in temporarily as you stocked up on more backpacking supplies - that and the weather was going to be taking a turn for the worse in the next few weeks, and you’d rather have a more permanent roof over your head, than the tarp-tent that you used. 

“Uhm…” Cedric responded, fidgeting a little with his hands “Not much? Outside of emergency situations where they needed my help, as a healer.” 

You blink in surprise, having not known that about your aquatic companion until now. It explained why he had all sorts of satchels and bags carefully strapped to his body, and how he’d known how to wrap up your ankle when you’d tripped over a tree root and twisted it badly, a couple of weeks ago. Cedric had also insisted on carrying you for several days, after. So that your ankle could heal properly. You’d thought that he’d been overprotective at the time… But as he apparently did have medical training, you supposed that it did make sense for you to keep off of your feet while you needed ot heal. “Ah. So we tend to be a curious bunch. I’m not sure how much interaction these people have had with mer-astartes, so there’s a good chance that you’re going to attract a lot of curious attention. Most people should leave you well enough alone… And anyone dumb enough to be rude you should be able to scare off with your size.”

Cedric nodded, a soft hum leaving him, as he looked at the small town you and he were approaching “Oh! I’ve been here plenty of times. You don’t need to worry about that. A couple of my older Bruders live here, with their festhaftend, so the mort-er humans here have long gotten used to seeing us visiting from time to time.” 

“What… What’s a fest… Festhafthend?” You ask, stumbling a little over the unknown word. You politely ignore the fact that he’s once again hinted towards the fact that his people may not be mortal. You don’t know much about the supernatural species that also call Earth their home, but you do know that poking your nose into places that it doesn’t belong will get it bitten off. 

“Hmm? Oh! Bonded. It means bonded.” Cedric answers, as if that’s supposed to clarify things. He doesn’t look or sound cagey, or like he’s trying to hide something…

Which is why you ask for further clarification “What do you mean by bonded, Cedric?”

“Hmm? Oh… Sometimes an Astartes will find a being of Holy Terra - I mean Earth - whom they are bonded to. A bond is… A bond can mean different things, depending on a number of factors and I really don’t understand it but. Some brothers become like father to very young bonded, like siblings in other cases. Sometimes they become bonded like married. Other times it is the Astartes who is adopted by a being of Earth in a parental role. Bonds happen to beings of Terra and Astartes of all kinds.” Cedric explains, fidgeting more with his hands “It is. Hard to explain. In part because I have never bonded myself. It is apparently a very singular experience.”

You have so many more questions, but the genuinely perplexed expression on the young Mer’s face causes you to decide that when you get to a cafe with free or cheap wifi, you’re going to spend some of the time that you use charging your phone and external batteries looking up those terms, to see if there is any information on these bonds known on the internet. Not that you’d take everything said on the internet as gospel truth. 

~

“Oh! Come with me, this place is very good! And they give out some of their products for free! Very tasty.” Cedric almost chirped down at you, his bright blue eyes lighting up with a nearly childish glee, after you’d checked into a relatively cheap hotel room for the week. He was waiting for you at the door to your room, practically vibrating with excitement.

You can’t help but chuckle a little at his clear enthusiasm “Sure thing, Cedric.” You had your external charges charging in the room and had a couple of good prospects for seasonal work that paid decently already… Besides if you absolutely had to, you could dip into the saving that you had, but you were pretty sure it wouldn’t come to that. 

You’re surprised when Cedric practically drags you over to a brightly painted candy shop, advertising over a hundred and seventy different kinds of salt water taffy flavors. The scent of freshly made chocolates and cooling caramel hits your tongue, and your mouth begins to water. You swallow back your saliva and walk into the cool front room.

There is an older woman behind the counter, where you can see a half-dozen different flavors of fruit-based gummy candy, sugar crystals shining pleasantly in the light. You can also see a dozen or so buckets of ice cream with their tops off in a chiller counter, the names of the flavors up for sale. There are dozens of different kinds of chocolate and chocolate-dipped things. On one wall of the candy shop are different flavors of honey. 

The bulk of the shop, however, is devoted to the many different flavors of taffy, each kind in clear plastic containers that reach floor to ceiling. There is a prize wheel near the payment counter that catches your attention. The older woman calls out cheerfully “Hello young Cedric! How are you today?”

“I’m good, Irene! I’ve brought a friend in to see the delicious sweets you have for sale.” He answers with a bright grin “I have aloe ointment and wound-healing bandages for trade. Oh! I also have some of those pain-reliever ointments for trade as well.”

“Oh who’s this friend? A new-... Oh! A human-shaped friend. I see.” Irene hummed, a warm smile appearing on her sun-weathered face. “Are you going to introduce them to Arnault and Roland later? I’m sure that they’d very much like to meet this new friend of yours.” There is a lilting, almost teasing note in her voice “I was wondering when you’d get a bonded.”

“I would like to introduce you to Roland and Arnault, but you are not my bonded. At least I don’t think you are?” Cedric huffed, his ear fins flicking rapidly as they turn a rosy color. He explains that you’d helped him calm down when a thunderstorm had badly startled him, and in exchange for your selfless help, he’d offered to travel with you for a time.

“I see… Well it was very kind of you to help him, dear. Not many would approach a visibly anxious Astartes, especially one they’ve never met before. That was quite brave and kind of you.” Irene murmured, a gentle expression appearing on her face as she reaches over the counter to gently pat Cedric on the elbow. “Do you know what you’d like to try for free this time, Cedric?”

“Mm-hmm! I want to try the chocolate bon-bon filled with lemon creme, please.” Cedric answered, carefully reading off the label, squinting a little at it.

“The dark chocolate, or the milk chocolate? Also the inside is going to taste both tart and creamy.” Irene responded, smiling a little brighter.

“I know! Miss Angela gave me a small slice of lemon meringue pie the other day. It was. Really intense! But very good.” Cedric answered cheerfully. 

“Alright, then. I just wanted to give you a little warning, since I know that Mer-Astartes have a more enhanced sense of taste than we humans do.” Irene hummed, handing over the chocolate he’d asked. “And for you, dear?” She asks, looking to you.

“I think I’ll try the orange gummy fruit slice please.” You answer, as all of them look good, but gummy candy can have an off-putting texture, and you’d rather know for sure before having to pay for any of them.

“Here you go. One orange fruit slice for you.” The older human answered with a kindly smile on her face. “Now, I believe it’s time for you both to spin the prize wheel! One spin per visit, and you get what it says on the slice of the wheel it lands on. The grand prize being a free quarter pound of any kind of candy you’d like.”

Cedric has already finished his piece of chocolate and eagerly glides over to the prize wheel. He grabs hold of it with two fingers and with the barest flick of hs wrist, sends it spinning and spinning, the steady tap-tap-tapping sound of the marker against the spokes of the prize wheel pleasant to listen to.

It eventually slows down and stops just one to the right of the quarter-pound of free candy, giving Cedric four free honey sticks of flavor or flavors of his choice. He immediately heads over to the small jars holding the sticks of honey to choose and you give the wheel a spin.

The wheel spins for less time, even though you do give it a good heave. You’re also able to get the quarter pound of free candy - which amounts to twenty pieces of taffy, among other options. 

You very much enjoy picking out the twenty different flavors of taffy that sound delicious to you, before going over to the ice cream section of the store. The day has gotten nearly unbearably warm, and an ice cream cone sounds delightful to you. Cedric joins you at the payment counter and carefully pulls out two small, tightly sealed jars and slides them over to Irene, who picks them up and nods “Thank you, dears. Enjoy your purchases!”

You blink, having grabbed out your wallet to pay “Are… Are you sure?”

“Oh yes. Cedric’s pain-relieving cream works wonders for my arthritis. This is payment enough. Go on and enjoy the late-summer sunshine! It’s a beautiful day out.” Irene murmurs, gently but firmly refusing your money with a shake of her head.

“Alright, if you say so…” You blink in surprise but nod.

You happily start to eat your ice cream as you wander out onto the wooden boardwalk, Cedric at your side, taking in the sights of the small seaside town.

[articskele]

Silly Cedric fun facts :3

He tends to add little questions at the ends of sentences, for lack of a better word? Like "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

His favorite MLP ponies are Rarity and Octavia!

His favorite Animal Crossing villager is Tia!

He likes foxes!

Salt and vinegar chip enjoyer

There's a magpie that likes to sit in the window and watch whatever he's doing. He named it Parable ouo

Mad that watermelon flavored stuff tastes nothing like watermelons >:C

His favorite soda is Dr Pepper

Drags his feet and sighs the most overdramatic sighhhh when there's a task he doesn't wanna do

Awkwardly steps around puddles and mud and refuses to touch anything dirty- Sometimes he wears these dainty little white gloves and everything

HE WOULD DO THIS

He really likes this himbo from a shitty obscure dating sim that he and Mel decided to play one day

Cedric the type of rapscallion to go "Don't mind if I do" before taking a cookie

[quartztwst]

waitt Azul doesn't like rielle? I'm sry I'm not on Jp but PLZZ tell mee I always thought he was neutral

I THINK HE HATED RIELLE he said he was cringe or smth???

I KNOW HE MENTIONED SOMETHING ABOUT RIELLE AND I THINK AZUL HAS AN ICK FOR HIM HE WAS LIKE “ew rielle i think he should die” or smth idk i REMEMBER IT OR WAS THAT MADE UP IN MY MEMORY WTF

I LOOKED AND I SWEAR THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT AZULBEING A HATER AND I DONT SEE ANYTHING

DID I MAKE IT UP IN MY HEAD AM I DELSUIONAL?? AM I CRAZY??? IM SO CRAZY FOR AZUL I STARTED MAKING SHIT UP IN MY HEAD.

im insane im gone what the fuck i swear

I SWEAR

anyways about my rielle teehee bc fuck azul whatever

Rielle (MY VERSION)

Second year (17)

Dude sometimes is dumb as fuck

Geninuely did not pay attention to Azul until they both went up to the surface

But he did think Azul was cool so he thinks they’re friends but Azul thinks he’s fucking cringe

the reason he didn’t even think about azul is because ermmm he’s a royal and was taught not to talk to POOR POEPLEE (azul is not poor)

but you get what i was saying

he’s the youngest and he’s mostly left behind so he spends his time alone and quiet

UNTIL HE DISCOVERED THAT HUMANS FUCKING EXIST AND WAS LIKE “yo, dad, i wanna go to the surface”

and his dad was like “what but the surface is kinda wack no”

and then he asked the TWST equalivent of Sebastian (CRAB ONE NOT THE DEMON) and RAN AWAY??? TO THE SURFACE. HE LIKE

HE LITERALLY LEFT HOME TO GO TO SCHOOL ON THE SURFACE (no contract needed)

he met azul again during the boot camp thing and wanted to make friends for the first time and was met with “ew die” from azul

he’s very curious about land and land dweller culture so he’s always trying to try everything before his dad figures out where he is at.

he’s late to class everyday bc he’s too busy researching and trying something out

his guardian basically sebastian

accidentally made meth once

his grades are actually pretty good. he’s everywhere but he also studies the night before the test and somehow gets 91%

created an essay under 7 hours and got a decent score

gets his ass scolded by Cedric (cinderella twst oc) and Sebastian bc he keeps doing that

tries to get Neige into his antics

Asked Neige to go sky-diving with him and they literally both went (Neige had fun, Rielle was screaming)

Rielle hates heights but wants to overcome them

made a contract with azul that lost his voice for the first half of the school year before leona dusted it and he gained his voice back (<- i might change this)

[starrgirlella]

Lurking for love? More like lurking for LORE

Hi everyone! Just two days ago, I made some interesting discoveries about LFL by just digging around the website

I'm not sure if anyone else found this out so that's why I'm going to be sharing what I found because it's very interesting

This post is going to be pretty long lol and full of my rambling. If you're interested, please take a read! Do note that English isn't my first language so I may express myself a bit weird 😭

Also IK the screenshots are pretty shitty but I'm lazy oops

To start, I have a habit of checking the sinistershrike website along with the LFL itch.io game page. Why? Well I just like looking if there are any new updates (and its my hyperfixtation so I'm constantly looking for new content)-

And I noticed that on the sinistershrike website there was a new update which some of you may or may not saw.

In summary, the game is getting custom music, prounouns are getting removed so MC is going to be gender neutral and getting called only by their name and most interesting of all: a new main character is getting added, and they're going to be dateable!

Pretty interesting, right? I immediately got curious on who that character might be since they're going to cause drama and more mysteries.

But wait! I'm still not done, hehe

Afterwards, I was just randomly looking at Jacob Alden pics thru google. Again, why? Well, I don't know either lol. It's just a habit that I do when I'm bored and sometimes when I'm lucky, I come across new things.

And this time I was lucky!

So I scrolled down to the end of the results and I saw this post which caught my eye:

What's so interesting about it? Well the fact that the creators website is linked to it. Curious, I clicked on the link and was suprised at what I saw.

(Mind you I still dont know if I'm an idiot just finding this out or not...)

Basically, it's a site containing all info about Jacob! I got really excited when I saw it bc I LOVE learning all the facts about my favourite characters and finding new official content!

When I finished looking through it I noticed two things:

1. The website adress (is that what it's called? Im sorry english isn't my first language)

So when you look at the website adress you can notice how it's linked (basically an extension) to the creators webiste which is: sinistershrike.neocities.org

The thing is; you can't open Jacobs page on the creators site. Like yes, there is a tab which says CHARACTERS but if you click on it you'll get nothing but a scary looking Jacob. Which means to get to this page you have to type the adress in yourself.

So I'm assuming the creator is purposefully hiding this Jacob page (maybe because he wants to finish pages for all characters and more)

And here's the link if you want to take a look for yourself:

https://sinistershrike.neocities.org/character/jacob

2. At the end of the page, you have links to other characters made by the creator.

Not just lurking for love, but other ocs made by him!

Though, if you click on them, you'll get nothing. Maybe they're still being made? I'm not sure.

Now, when you look at the characters for LFL, it's very interesting because we now have info on Sarah's last name AND... an unknown character? Noah Vega.

At first, I was stunned. Who could this character be? Then I went back to the creators website and remembered the mention of a new character, can you see where I'm going?

Noah Vega must be the new character! He was never mentioned before; neither in the game nor in the creators deleted blogs.

And pretty quickly I found proof which helped my theory (I SOUND SO DUMB OMG)

Now going back to the website adress thing.

So I concluded that the Jacob website is hidden from the main website for an reason, hence you can only acess it by finding it yourself. I decided to mess around with the website adress a bit, to see if I could find any more extensions/links.

I started by putting different names in the adress. I tried out: Austin, Sarah, Cedric and Alfred but they didn't lead or anything.

BUT

The only name which lead to an extension was Noah. And holy shit-

I'm finding it hard to express how shocked I was at this discovery

This is a pretty big lore drop imo! So his website shows a pinboard with various notes.

And with these notes we can conclude two things:

1. He has an gambling addiction

2. He is investigating Jacob

He definitely an detective trying to solve an old murder case involved with Jacob. Hence why the mention that the new character will add more drama and mystery to the game.

The three murdered highschoolers must be his old friends mentioned in the game: Steve, Monty and Kenny. Which he claims that they haven't talked since highschool. In reality, they were murdered by him for reasons that are unknown for now.

The website link:

https://sinistershrike.neocities.org/character/noah

And that's about it! I had fun digging around finding this new info and writing this post. I hope to see more of interesting secrets like this in the future because it's fun finding them!

I hope this post was of interest to you :)

[r0-boat]

Instinct

Male! Dragon! OC x AFAB!gn!reader

Feat: Yandere OC Silas

Cw: possessive behavior, yandere character, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, animalistic behavior, biting, claiming bite.

NSFW

Thank you @devotion-disorder for this lovely art piece I'm so glad I commissioned you!!

You smell good.

So good.

Your Skin;

So Soft to the touch,

smooth and unblemished,

just begging for a mate to pin you down and sink his fangs into. Your mere presence was tempting.

Silas knew full well that as the months got warmer and the snow melted, more primal desires started to call to him. An animalistic need that demanded satisfaction. However, a Duke dub Cedric from a neighboring kingdom invited him to a ball and offered he could not refuse even if he wanted to. The Duke was kind enough to Grant him a plus-one, and now, standing before you in an outfit that the maids and tailor specifically prepared for you, how the woven silk fabric hugged every part of your body, oh, how he wishes he could forget that stupid party and rip your outfit in two and ravish you right here in this carriage.

His hungry eyes did not go unnoticed by you. Even now, as elegant and princely as he looked, Silas looked like a caged, starving animal. His eyes were only on you the entire night, even as other more elegant women wine and flaunted their bodies to get his attention, only to clutch their pearls in frustration when the prince only had eyes for you.

Silently stalking behind you like your shadow glaring down upon you like a premium steak on his plate ready to devour you.

But Silas held back his urges for the sake of his reputation, as all Noble eyes were on him. He stopped following you around like a lost puppy and began mingling with Sir Cedric. Talks of trade business gossip from other kingdoms were a much-needed but small distraction from the burning in his core, but now and then, he would sneak a little glances at you. His pupils waning into slits as he watched the other attendants stare at you with the same hungry eyes he had been.

Veins rush with adrenaline when one of the Nobles who had been eyeing you gets the courage to approach you.

The conversation becomes background noise as he tries to concentrate on what that man is saying to you, glaring daggers at the noble, making you smile and chuckle. The dragon in him hissed and snarled, becoming more and more restless. To it, you are an unclaimed potential mate being pursued by a rival.

Silas feels his claws threatening to rip out of his gloves. He clutches his fist with images of the noble's blood painting the walls of the ballroom, Imagining the taste of his flesh on his tongue. He quickly storms out as the Duke is still talking to him.

You look over to see Silas approaching the both of you.

Eyes burning with fury, be prepared yourself for a gruesome site only for it to never come.

" Excuse me, gentlemen, my apologies for interrupting your conversation, but I believe I asked this lovely person to dance with me."

Silas said politely, eyes still burned with a jealous rage that you were all too familiar with. A small, gentle smile on his face, Which only made him more unsettling. And his hand ever so gently stroking your hip, has he pulled you closer to him.

The man, a kind soul, really, took the hint. If he were to stay within your presence any longer than he'd had, this Prince would make him disappear.

"Ah, Sorry, Your Highness, I hadn't realized they were taken already."

Yes, taken… They are mine

A shiver goes down your spine when your eyes meet his, giving off a slight draconic glow of violet piercing into your very soul.

As you danced with him, his hold around you was tight, and his touch was borderline sensual as he caressed your parts in ways along with notice. You flushed, knowing that you couldn't do anything while Silas was feeling your body in public. Even as you try to look away, he moves his head to keep your eyes on him.

"Don't look away from me." He whispered a husky, demanding tone, his thumb gently pressing against your bottom lip as he forced your head back to him. His thumbs wipes across your bottom lip. His fang sinks into his, Imagining the taste of your lips upon his

"Eyes on me, dear."

With the last of his self-control, he lasted from the dance the carriage ride home, letting out a low-throated purr, seeing your small body sat pretty in his lap, his large veiny hand underneath your clothes grasping at your bare thigh. He stayed eerily quiet even as you tried to talk to him. He'd only give one-word answers or hums, his mind thinking of only one thing. His gaze focused on your unblemished neck, shoulders, and collarbone. You feel his hand squeeze your plush thigh, fingers dipping dangerously close to your core. Silas's breath tickles your neck, gently pressing kisses up until he nibbles on your ear. Finally, he whispers.

" As soon as we get out of this carriage, you are coming into my bed tonight. Do you understand?" He smiles as he sees you nod obediently.

When the carriage finally does stop as at his Castle, he immediately has you in his arms, carrying you like a bride, to his chambers, throwing you onto his large bed, going back to the door to lock it.

When you sit up, you see him breathing heavily, his face flushed red, looking back at you with that familiar, hungry look. Silas slowly begins to peel off his clothing one by one as he makes his way closer to the bed to you.

"Do you know what you do to me?" A growl rips from his throat, now half naked, his fingers playing with his belt.

" all night, as I suffer, you sit pretty looking up at others with those big doe eyes.

He creeps closer, hands pressing against the mattress as he leans into your face.

" walking around and then gorgeous outfit men drooling over you like panting dogs. Unaware of who has already claimed you.

He caresses your cheek before his hand slides down, grabbing the collar of your outfit. Pulling you downward, your forehead rested against his.

"Strip."

Claws dug into the fabric. If this weren't off in five seconds, it would be torn off your body.

He watched you slowly shimming out of your outfit. With each delicious amount of skin exposed, he touched and caressed.

Your thighs, your hips, your stomach, your chest. The Prince couldn't keep his hands off you. He could barely hold back when he pressed you into the mattress, a hand secured firmly around your throat.

Fingers trail down your stomach, slipping beneath your undergarments. Thick fingers press. Play with your core. Pressing gently at your tight entrance, fondling your walls, listening to the sweet sounds of your insides as he stirs them. He releases your neck, caressing your cheek as he leans down to taste your lips. His breath shakes as he goes down for another. His tongue is sliding into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling you deeper. He presses his entire naked body against you. You could feel how hard he was straining his pants.

"I want you."

His voice shakes in desperation

"I want to be the only man you look at.

"I want to claim you as mine, to make it so everyone knows who you belong to."

His hand slips to his belt, undoing it, while remaining eye contact.

" I need to be inside you,"

He keeps looking at your core, licking his lips.

" But first, it has been a while since I've tasted you. Let me make you feel good."

Grabbing your ass, he lifts your lower half with ease. He lets out a feral growl as he goes down onto your core, eating you like a starved beast. His eager tongue tastes all of you because he puts his whole mouth on your little body. Lewd noises of his lips slurping your wetness fill the room, which only turns him on more, his feral growls turning into whimpering moans, grinding his hips against nothing in particular. You clenched the bed sheets, wailing and trembling, your body trying its best to squirm away from the intense pleasure only for him to hold you tighter.

You were not getting away from him.

Silas needed to make you cum to taste your essence on his tongue. He needed to feel that satisfaction of knowing that no other man could make you feel the way he feels.

His eyes rolled back when your hand tangled in his hair, pulling on his long jet locks as you braced yourself for your own orgasm. He holds his mouth in place, drinking every last drop of you. Finally, finishing his meal, he drops you like a rag doll, wiping his mouth with his hand before licking his fingers. He was no longer a man at that point, with only one thing on his mind: he flips you over, a firm hand on the back of your neck, pressing you down. He slipped his cock out of his pants, his big hand manhandling your ass open. Your entrance is wet enough with the saliva, cum, and juices, even with his vast draconic cock. He forced himself inside with one motion, mounting you like an animal. You felt his breath already against your ear as he put his hand around your throat. His pace was rough and relentless, grinding his hips with each thrust, trying to drill as deep as he could.

"Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! All mine!"

He repeats like a mantra. You can feel the tip of his dick pressing against the sweet spot inside you, making you clench around his thick rigid shaft feeling every monstrous and inhuman ridge on his dragon cock. His cock felt hot, threatening to burn you out from the inside. You cum again on his cock. Silas is lost and in pleasure, mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm. He removes his hand from your throat, snaking it till around your mouth, muffling your sweet screams when you feel his teeth sink into your neck, his sharp, beastly fangs piercing, breaking your skin as the taste of your blood feels his mouth; he explodes inside you, his whole body is shaking the sheer pleasure making tears well up in his eyes. His hips still as he grinds every last drop deep inside you, claiming you for himself, claiming you in the most primal way any man can. You go limp into his arms, and he catches you, supporting your entire body in his arms. Silas, in a daze licking the new wound on the back of your neck, gently suckling the red liquid from the new mark; his cock throbbed deep inside you, still hard, and his body still felt hot.

"I need more."

[breadbrobin]

the bet

part three

cedric diggory x reader — harry potter

[fem!best friend reader]

summary: for once, losing a bet might be a good thing.

warnings: kissing, quite a lot of swearing, betting/gambling, mentions of underage drinking, minor suggestive content, GOD they’re so in love it’s stupid, i think i’m a comedian (i’m not), switched from an x oc story so might have a few mistakes oops, mediocre writing (again i wrote this years ago and this is the worst part i think)

word count: 1.7k

(let’s not talk ab how long it took me to put this up and instead i’ll tell you about how i went away with my friends and may or may not have completely forgotten about this lil series oopssss anyways this is the last part and it’s my favourite i love it so muchhhh enjoy 😘)

part one

part two

——————————————

The Rainy Days

Neither you or Cedric had brought up what he’d said that night, but it hung in the air between you, stagnant and stiff, leaving awkwardness to rest in the growing distance.

It was odd, you realised. One moment, you were closer than ever before, hugging for a second too long, soft touches as hands brushed, then the next, you were sitting at opposite ends of a metaphorical couch, shooting furtive glances at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking.

It was confusing, and you were conflicted.

You almost wanted to bring it up. You knew he remembered, that much was clear. It was obvious in the subtlest of looks, the gentlest of touches, the softest of smiles. But sometimes, it would leap to the forefront of his mind and, cheeks red, eyes downcast, he would retreat into himself.

And so, neither you or Cedric brought it up.

No matter how much you may have wanted to.

The days passed in almost comfortable normalcy.

There were no trips to the lake or the town, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

You and Cordelia taught him how to play Last Card on a thundery Tuesday, all pouting out the window at the storm.

“I hate thunder,” Cedric shuddered. “It’s the worst to play Quidditch in too.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to play in thunder,” you huffed, collecting the cards after he won again. “I mean, lightning strikes the highest object, right? And look what happened to Harry last season.”

“Yeah, that was horrible,” he cringed, taking the cards from her and shuffling them. “Although that was the Dementors too.”

You pulled a face. “Still not an excuse. It really isn’t safe.”

Cordelia looked between you in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You remember Quidditch, right?” Cedric asked. “On the broomsticks.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you know that witches riding broomsticks used to be a euphemism for riding the devil’s—”

“—Oh-kay, that’s enough cards for today!” You cut in. “Cords, why don’t you go grab a board game, yeah?”

“Okay!” she chirped, dancing off upstairs.

You breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in your chair.

Cedric shot you an amused look.

“Shut up,” you muttered.

When you saw a person running towards your house without an umbrella in the pouring rain, you assumed they were an idiot.

Then the figure got closer and you realised that it was your idiot.

“God, Cedric, you dipshit,” you whispered, dropping the knife you was using to butter your toast on the bench and running to the door, grabbing a towel from a clean pile on the way.

You opened the door just as he reached the front steps, having to grip onto the handle tight so that the wind didn’t rip it from its hinges.

“What are you doing?” you asked over the downpour, letting him inside and handing him the towel.

“I swear it didn’t start raining until I was halfway here.” His teeth were chattering. “Gotta love English weather.”

You shook your head in defeat. “Shut up and go take a hot shower. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He didn’t even move to object, shuffling towards the bathroom instantly.

You left a bundle of warm clothes outside the door and sat on the couch with your toast to wait.

Thankfully, you weren’t alone with your thoughts for very long.

Cedric padded into the room with his hair wet and messy and in a hoodie and sweatpants that he’d left at your house a few weeks before. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Are you okay?” you handed him a blanket and a piece of warm toast as he sat down next to you.

He nodded. He looked significantly less cold than before. “Merlin, the last time I was this cold was when you pushed me into the Black Lake.”

“I didn’t push you, you slipped.”

“Yeah, right,” he huddled closer to you, making her tense up briefly. The last time you were this close on the couch…

“Hey, Y/N…” he said quietly after a few beats.

“Hm?”

“About that night—”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“No, I think we should—”

“Cedric,” you said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. We were drunk. It’s okay.”

He paused, studying you like he was committing all of your features to memory. You knew you were doing that for him. “Okay.”

You sat in silence, watching the rain stream down the window.

The Confession

You had a confession to make.

First, to yourself: you liked Cedric—No. You were in love with Cedric.

It was the way he said your name like it was made of porcelain, fragile, delicate. It was the way your bodies fit perfectly together when you hugged, your bodies and hands made for holding each other. It was the way he looked at you, that night and every day since; like you’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. It was the way he made you feel safe.

Was that so difficult?

Yes, a nagging voice in the back of your mind muttered. You’re going to be twenty galleons more broke because of your stupid feelings.

Maybe, you countered it. But I don’t even care anymore.

Your next confession would be to Cedric. That was slightly more difficult.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have the opportunity; you were almost always at each other’s houses. It was more to do with the issue of you being too scared. You shied away from admitting it every time you thought you were ready, pushing your feelings down and down until they were compressed under a pile of anxiety.

So, the confession was going well. Really well.

You stole another glance at him across the room, peering over your book to find him already staring at you. You withheld a squeak and looked back down, sinking lower into your end of the couch.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, slipping a bookmark between the pages and setting his book on the end table.

“What is what?” You didn’t take her eyes off your book, pretending to read with your eyes locked on one phrase: ‘I love you.’

Is it that easy? You asked yourself. I just say it?

Cedric leaned forward and pushed your book down. “Well, either that page is very interesting or you suddenly can’t read, because you haven’t turned the page in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m absorbing it properly,” you lifted it back up but he pushed it down again.

“Absorbing it, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well, my other thought was that you were so distracted staring at me every five seconds that you forgot to actually read.”

You dropped your book, struggling to catch it and sending it careening onto the floor. Your eyes were wide as you stared at him. “No.”

He was smiling, that soft, almost smug smile that you’d fallen in love with. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh, because from here, it looked like you were staring at me.”

You sat up straight. “Really? How odd.”

“Hmm…” he smiled a bit brighter. God, you wanted to kiss him. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

You breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as he leaned back.

“Shame, because I was actually quite flattered.”

“Oh, I bet you were,” you scoffed.

He leaned back into the couch, opening his book agonisingly slow.

You stared at him, legs crossed and brows furrowed. Your head was swirling with thoughts, all repeating, Cedric, Cedric, Cedric. You’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad, to just hold someone. You’d never, ever in your life, wanted to lose a bet.

His grey eyes flickered up to you once, then twice, then again. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, what the fuck,” you muttered, pushing yourself forward and pressing your lips to his.

He dropped his book, the hardback thudding dully on the floor right next to yours, but neither of you cared. His hands found their place on your waist as you leaned over him, one arm supporting you on the wall behind him, the other entangled in his brown hair.

Butterflies danced in your stomach, your heart racing wildly as your lips melded together. It was like they were made to kiss each other; the way they fit so perfectly, the curve of your cheek and the straight line of his nose. All of your swirling thoughts subsided, leaving only one: Cedric.

God, you never wanted to stop kissing him. He was like sugar; tantalising, sweet, addictive.

He pulled away first, thumb digging subtly into your hip, lips parted and gasping for air. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, unable to find your voice. “But I couldn’t wait another—”

He kissed you again, more passionate; noses knocking, hearts pounding, hair standing on end. You wondered how you got so lucky. God, you were lucky.

This kiss was more intense, all those weeks of pent up emotion, released in that moment.

You never wanted it to end.

But, as your lungs gasped for air and your head began to swim, you pulled away. He chased your lips, pressing a final, sweet kiss to them, before resting his head back again.

“Never apologise for that,” he breathed. “Never.”

“Got it,” you whispered, eyes tracing a pattern in his faint freckles. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“Amazing at kissing?” he tilted his head.

“Just amazing in general.” You kissed him again. And if you stayed on that couch all afternoon? Well that was no one’s business but your own.

The Pay-Up

You had twenty galleons ready the second you set foot on the Hogwarts Train only a few weeks later. Cedric was holding your free hand as you wove past loitering students and nervous first years until you found Lizzie and Camila.

“Hey, Morgan, Cedric,” Lizzie raised her eyebrow at you.

Camila saw your connected hands and started prodding her arm.

“Hey, guys,” you smiled brightly. “Just paying up.”

You tossed Lizzie the bag of galleons and turned to Camila. “Sorry, I made the first move.”

“Liar,” she pointed at you. “Cedric, please tell me she’s lying.”

“Nope,” he let your hand go and wrapped it around your waist instead. “She kissed me first.”

Camila groaned, digging through her bag. “Fuck.”

As Lizzie danced in victory and Camila complained about you finding your balls, you had to admit, you had never been happier to lose a bet.

cedric taglist:

@sunburnhurts

[midnight-in-town]

Let's talk about the "Fenian brotherhood" theory !! :D

Firstly, in case you don't know about it, please go read the theory that our!Ciel's birth name might be Fenian/Fionn/Finnian by @azuresins. It is incredibly relevant to what I'm about to explain next !

TBH, I don't really care about discovering our!Ciel's birth name. However, I truly enjoy this theory and I think it makes a lot of sense, because I absolutely agree with the idea of Vincent supporting (secretly or not) Irish independence, turning him into a political enemy of Queen Victoria...

...which could be very much why he ended up dead.

This theory comes from a private convo with my friend, @dorkshadows and I'll sum up their thoughts (and some of mine) below the cut !

First of all, while we think Claudia, Vincent's predecessor, may have been a personal enemy of Victoria because of whatever happened when Albert died in 1861, Vincent strikes us more as a political enemy precisely because of Brown's comment in ch108.

After all, if our!Ciel, who just managed to thwart their plans of getting the sulin gas, is "more like his father everyday", then it makes sense that Vincent "got in the way" of some of Victoria & JB's war/political plans too. >_>

Now, about the Fenian Cycle book: it was an important symbol for Irish independence and the Fenian Brotherhood that started in the 19th century before it got dissolved in 1880. To quote Wikipedia:

"The Fenian Brotherhood traced their origins back to 1790s, in the rebellion, seeking an end to British rule in Ireland initially for self-government and then the establishment of an Irish Republic. The rebellion was suppressed, but the principles of the United Irishmen were to have a powerful influence on the course of Irish history."

But how would Vincent even get involved with it and why?

In the theory that OC's name is Fenian/Finnian, @azuresins mentioned that maybe it's all related to Cedric K. Ros having Celtic origins. Since we do have one sketch by Yana of one twin bringing the Fenian Cycle book to the Undertaker (the most likely candidate for Cedric K. Ros)...

...it might indeed be a partial answer.

There is another possibility though, entirely thought by @dorkshadows, which is that Rachel (and Ann) might have been of Irish origins too.

After all, a common stereotype for Irish people in many stories is red hair and it's hard to forget that it was a very distinctive characteristic of Ann, Rachel's sister !

In fact, one of their first interactions is Vincent telling Ann to be proud of that hair, which we were told she inherited from her dad, the twins' maternal grandfather.

So Vincent might have not just been talking about Ann's hair color in that scene, but more specifically about her taking more pride in her Irish origins. Obviously though, Dalles/Durless aren't very Irish names, but it is possible that their original family name got anglicized into a more traditionally English name.

In any case, Vincent met Rachel and Ann after already knowing their father :

So it's possible that Vincent was, as the Watchdog, investigating Lord Durless as a nobleman with Irish lineage and possible ally of the Fenian Brotherhood. After all, to quote this article, "the Fenians in England and the British Empire were a major threat to political stability". Then Vincent met and fell in love with Rachel, thus deciding to support the Brotherhood instead.

I'd add that Vincent supporting such a cause simply makes sense, considering that the Phantomhive family, too, might have been burdened by the Watchdog's duty generations ago, because of their "different" lineage (full theory here). On top of that, if you add the possibility that Cedric/UT also was of Celtic origins (many decades or centuries ago) and that Vincent knew Claudia's death was Victoria's fault, it only makes sense that he'd eventually politically antagonize the Queen (both for his parents' sake and for Rachel's).

@dorkshadows also pointed out that, to this day, we don't know if the twins' maternal grandfather is alive or dead in canon : he was important enough to be mentioned in Red's flashback but has been missing from the narrative ever since. Timeline-wise, he could be dead, especially since we never saw him in the Blue Memory arc (our!Ciel's flasback), but we never know with Yana (look at Claudia being hinted in panels ever since the circus arc and probably being incredibly relevant), so it's worth keeping in mind.

Then, moving on to ch132 we know that, when the twins were born, Rachel is the one who named them.

Coincidentally (read: it's probably not a coincidence xD), ch132 had the cover with Vincent reading the Fenian Cycle book to the twins and it's also the chapter in which Vicar Rathbone casually says that one twin/both twins (it's deliberately ambiguous in Japanese) have a name that is "rare for England" :

Many fans, myself included, thought that "Ciel" was the name being discussed there, but maybe they were actually talking about our!Ciel's celtic birth name ! To quote @azuresins, in that case that'd basically mean that, in that scene above, "Vincent said to an ENGLISH PRIEST [...] that people of Celtic origin deserved freedom, and to be treated better and that it probably was soon to come".

No wonder that Vicar Rathbone would immediately change the topic lmao ! xD

Vicar Rathbone be like

It is also very meaningful that Rachel decided to give the "Fionn/Fenian/Finnian" name to our!Ciel ("the spare"), as if to emphasize that he was free to make his own path in life, as the second son, unburdened by earldom. Choosing such a meaningful name might even be a parallel to Vincent's own situation with Frances as his spare, since both also have names with a meaning relating to victory and freedom.

Another important detail, as @azuresins already explained here, is that Fenian Cycle is also a tale of revenge and that our!Ciel parallels Fionn big deal, making it all even more relevant. And maybe Yana left other hints in her artworks too...

Finally, historically the Fenian Brotherhood officially got dissolved around 1880 (the twins were 5 years old), but it's always possible that, in Kuroverse, Vincent managed to make it thrive secretly as the Watchdog. The Fenian Brotherhood caused several incidents, including after 1880 (they assassinated a British Chief Secretary in 1882), so it wouldn't be impossible that the Queen eventually found out that Vincent didn't properly take care of them, because he was supporting them.

And when she found out? Well, she branded Vincent a political enemy and we know the rest (the household was massacred in 1885 and the killer most likely received help from real!Ciel, more details in the real!Ciel mastermind theory hehe).

The idea that Vincent ultimately became a political enemy of Victoria because he fell in love with Rachel makes their death...

...even more emotional to me, since Rachel probably died trying to protect Vincent. T_T

TL;DR that's the Fenian Brotherhood theory: because they supported an Irish rebellious group that wanted freedom, Vincent & Rachel were branded political enemies of Victoria and she & JB plotted their deaths, which led in happenstance to the RCMT.

(friendly reminder that the twins are 7, when Vincent asked Dee to look after them should he die)

I hope it was clear ! Thanks for reading. :))

[jugheadthelesbian]

sfw requests r open!!

alright im caving. while not feeling completely up to writing new chapters for anything, i am desperate to write something 😭😭

so x reader, x oc, and pairings requests r now open!! just send me ur asks w whatever u want for the following fandoms/characters

criminal minds

🩷 x reader/oc: i will do any of the characters from the team x reader or x oc but i LOVE writing elle, garcia, and morgan specifically

🩷 pairings: morcia, galvez, spencelle, hotchi, jemily, jelle, jarcia, ellemily, rossi x gideon, gideon x hotch

harry potter/marauders

🩷 x reader/oc: harry, ron, fred, george, lee jordan, hermione, ginny, luna, cedric, angelina johnson, lily evans, marlene, remus, sirius, peter, james, regulus, dorcas, mary, pandora, evan, barty, bellatrix, narcissa, alice, andromeda, and rita

🩷 pairings: ronmione, linny, lee x george, lee x fred, jily, jegulus, jegulily, regulily, pandalily, wolfstar, dorlene, marylene, marylily, quillkiller, nobleflower, and rosekiller

the hunger games

🩷 x reader/oc: finnick, annie, johanna, katniss, peeta, haymitch, cashmere, gloss, enobaria, lucy gray, sejanus, and cinna

🩷 pairings: odesta, johannie, everlark, hayffie, cashbaria, clato, and glarvel

mean girls(2024)

🩷 x reader/oc: regina, damien, janis, cady, gretchen, karen, and aaron

🩷 pairings: rejanis, fetchen, cady x aaron, ms norberry x mr duvall

stranger things

🩷 x reader/oc: max, lucas, dustin, mike, will, el, steve, robin, nancy, eddie, jonathan, argyle, and chrissy

🩷 pairings: lumax, elumax, byler, elmax, steddie, platonic stobin, ronance, hellcheer, buckingham, and jargyle

note: i will not do anything beyond making out and i will do angst and fluff :) if a character/pairing was not mentioned, but u want to request it, feel free to ask anyways and i will respond privately if i dont feel comfortable doing it. i can do head canons or full-on drabbles, u pick! i can also do platonic pairings or x reader/oc

as for introductions, im a chronic flirter with an obsession for reading who is loved by one(@siriusblackwannabe)

for more writing, go to my ao3:

[kumezyzo]

hai i saw on ur latest post abt rediscovering fandoms a harry potter hastag and im begging you to make ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING y/n & harry potter himself PLEASEE !! i literally went back to my hp era a few days ago and its so RAHH

i already half answered this and then it deleted so im a little salty rn 🥲 but i had this idea for a fic that involved an oc x cedric academic rivals to lovers. and the oc is cousins with draco so theres cute siblings dynamics. and its fluffy but angsty and beautiful.

but ill stick with harry x reader headcannon/blurb for now

its not very hard for you to develop feelings for harry. he's kind and considerate. and not to mention he is literally harry potter.

it felt like every year, your classmates found something to hate about him, but not you. you believed him when he swore he wasn't the heir of slytherin. you didnt tease on him for his newfound fear of dementors. you believed him when he said he didnt put his name in the goblet of fire.

it wasnt hard to become friends with him after your second year. you approached him after the incident with the snake and justin fletchley. you hatef hearing the whispers about the assumed heir of slytherin and told harry that you believed him.

"if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm free." you had told him happily. and he did come to see you. sometimes it was about class work but other times it was about if you had heard anything about the chanber of secrets.

year after year, he found himself trusting you as much as you trusted him. when cedric died, he found you. he had already started to hear whispers of people not believing that the dark lord had returned. but he knew you would listen. you had to.

you let him cry as he recalled the awful events of that night. and something changed in your relationship. you saw each other in a more vulnerable light now. you didn't try to hide that you liked one other.

the thing is, you friends knew you liked him and his knew that he liked you. but it was really only in your fifth year that you two actually started dating.

it was strange making headcannons/blurbs that arent what i usually write. but this was a nice experience. i lost the overall idea of what i was writing... obviously. still hope you enjoyed anon 🥲

the oc's name would be polaris, btw. her dad being regulus black so: polaris black. named after the north star. -nony

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

What is this?

Past =-= Next

Author's note: Next part of Catuis's story in Husbandry. Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric and Ash'val.

Summary: Catius is sent on errands and spots a Dangerous Person.

Warnings: let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Catius was humming to himself, it had been a few months since they'd found Jophiel and had taken him to the Imperial Fist and Salamander Base to get properly patched up. Of course, convincing a skittish, panicky, wounded, and paranoid Jophiel to go to a base filled with Elder Cousins that are First Born that he doesn't know was not easy, also being stalked by a Night Lord had been… not fun.

He was glad that they'd called Elder Apothecary Hura to deal with the fellow Chaos Marine, even though Cedric had to owe Hura a favor for the aid. Hura had called in the favor by requesting Cedric to help him with an incredibly skittish Loyalist Thousand Sons First Born who'd been found in the desert by some of his fellow Chaos Marines and was not… reacting well to being in a Chaos Marine Base.

He'd called Imhoden a 'skittish little cousin'. He knows that Black Templars have a dim view of 'warp witches' but as Cedric was of a gentle temperament and younger, it would help, or so they hoped, calm Imhoden down from his Psyker Paranoia. Cedric has yet to come back from the Chaos Base, but they are in regular contact with him, so he's fine.

And, they do have code words and phrases that they use to ensure that he's still fine, and if he needs back up Catius and the others will go to their brother-cousin's aid, Alliance be damned. For some reason Salamander Captain Ash'val has been keeping a closer eye on him, Claude, Ramiel, and Jophiel since Cedric had 'willingly' gone to help Hura with a particularly tricky patient.

He's finished up the work he's been assigned and heads to who's been assigned to order him about today and reports what he's done and requests another duty task. He's happy to work and is ordered to go and get some supplies from the base line human's town for some items that are easier to buy then to make from scratch themselves.

He nods and is given some local currency and a list and heads to the local town to get the supplies. As well as have a walk about to see who's where in town. There was a rumor that one of the feral war bands of Black Templars was going to be heading into, or would be near the town and they wanted to try and keep an eye on them. Black Templars tended to be rather… temperamental types.

Also, their reactions to a Bond are… not ideal. They are usually not Human Killers. As he's gathering the items he looks to where he spots the feral war band of Black Templars and freezes when he hears a voice that he recognizes. His hearts sinking to his chest as he shuffles to a location that's deeper in the shadows of the building as he mentally swears and carefully peaks around the building.

He feels like a rabbit caught in a trap. Ramiel's told them… some of the things that his so-called Mentor did to him. Has heard the bastard's voice over Vox during some of the rare times that Ramiel was able to try and talk to him, before… before they arrived on Ancient Terra.

Captain Petras is on Ancient Terra- and he's part of one of the less human friendly Black Templar war bands. Oh, this is not good. He's one of the more Infamous Primaris Killers, and he's here. Fuck. Chaplains tended to hold a lot of sway among their battle brothers due to their rank and position within the chapter. Oh, this is not good at all. Suddenly there is a voice in his HUD display and he makes a startled noise.

"-ius, come in Catius," The voice- he recognizes and relaxes a little, it's Captain Ash'val, "Catius sit rep- your vitals are going nuts, what's the situation?"

"Sir," Catius croaks, takes in a breath and then starts again, "One of… of the Primaris Killers is on Ancient Terra."

"…Primaris … what?" Ash'val says.

Catius shivers at the tone of the the Dragon's voice. "What do you mean Primaris Killer? A Chaos or Renegade First Born Astartes?"

"No," Catius says, "He's a Loyalist. Chaos and Renegade Space Marines killing us is understandable, we try to kill them. No- Primaris Killer is a title for Loyalist First Borns who decided that Primaris Marines are abominations to be purged and killed."

There is a silence on the other end of the vox-line and Catius feels like he's said or revealed something that perhaps, Cedric and the other's hadn't told Ash'val or the other First born cousins at the base. Why? He's not sure, but he's got a sinking feeling that he's said something he shouldn't have.

"Catius, get back to base," Ash'val orders, "give me a description and name of this… 'loyalist'."

"… Ramiel didn't tell you? or Cedric?" Catius says, really wishing he could keep his big mouth shut, "This particular Primaris Killer murdered Ramiel. In front of Cedric. And he's a Chaplain."

There is another loud, eternity filled, but actually quite short pause from Ash'val. "He's a what."

Catius winces, there are many reasons why allied Chaplains are… a source of… anxiety for Cedric and Ramiel, and to a lesser extent the rest of them. While Catius had been 'lucky' to not have to deal with many first born before arriving on Ancient Terra, most of the other's had and it hadn't been… the best for them at times.

"My estimated time of arrival is five minutes sir," Catius reports, "I was only able to get half of the requested supplies.

"Someone else will finish getting the supplies, your safety is more important at the moment." Ash'val replies.

Catius blinks and tilts his head, not that Ash'val can see that at the moment, "I don't think he spotted me sir."

"Does he know you are friendly with Ramiel and Cedric?" Ash'val asked pointedly.

"Yes sir." Catius replied.

"And do you want him to know you are here? And possibly them to?" Ash'val asks.

"No Sir!" Catius says with wide horrified eyes, "no!"

[sleepyfan-blog]

Talking to Older Brothers

This is the next part in Cedric’s adventures in the Astartes Husbandry AU, and specifically the Introducing New Primaris Black Templars arc. For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next.  Thank you very much to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Roland and Arnault and @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Ramiel

Tagged:  @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Warnings: mentions of petras, death threats, if there is anything else I need to tag, please tell me!

Summary: After leaving the base, Cedric goes to talk to Roland, then later Arnault.

Cedric only enters the bakery once he’s certain that he isn’t being followed. There is, as he’s expected, a long line of eager mortals inspecting the delicious foods for sale. He deliberately takes in a deep breath through his nose, the mouth-wateringly delicious scents of the lovingly hand-crafted pastries and other baked goods a welcome distraction from the ugly feelings still eating away at his hearts like the most wicked of poisons. He lets out the breath he’d taken slowly, through his mouth, before inhaling through his nose again.

He does this several times, eyes closed as he lets the chatter of mortals wash over him. He’s not listening to any one conversation in particular, but allowing the sounds to help ground him. Cedric opens his eyes as he hears the careful, distinctive footsteps of Roland walking up to him. He’s not surprised that the mortal shop-helper already went off to go get Roland, as he is an Astartes, though a familiar face in this particular bakery. 

“Are you here for baked goods, Cedric? Or have you come to talk to me about something?” Roland asks, looking him over carefully, a considering frown on his face.

“... I need to speak with you, privately. But I did bring money to buy some of the delicious bread.” Cedric answered earnestly. Pallas and Olivar were healed to the point where they were being slowly introduced to baseline foods. There were few things better than the baked goods made by Roland’s Bonded in Cedric’s opinion, and he hoped to get them both a treat…

If he survives the punishment for attacking Chief Apothecary Melinth, he hopes to give them the bread himself. Otherwise, he’s sure that Ramiel will share the bread with them for him. Cedric’s superiors in the base have been distressingly lenient with him so far, but he’s quite certain that has come to an end. But that was a problem for Later Cedric to deal with. 

“Follow me, then, to the back. Do you mind helping me knead the dough? I had to run an errand this morning and we are a bit behind on some of the larger orders that came in while I was away.” Roland asked, gesturing for Cedric to follow him into the back of the bakery. 

“I’d be happy to help.” Cedric answered earnestly. He smiles cheerfully as he sees you working diligently on some kind of fruit filling for the carefully arranged trays of tart-shells, waiting to be filled and finished cooking. “Hallo!” He calls out to you.

“Good afternoon, Cedric. It’s good to see you again. You’ve been pretty busy these past couple of months. New apothecary training?” You ask, giving him a small smile.

Cedric stills for a moment, face solemn “I wish it were something like that. I do apologize for being so absent recently. Things have been… Tumultuous, as of late. It’s what I wanted to talk to Roland about… Arnault as well, though I plan on talking to him later today.”  He goes over to the sink, washing his hand properly before heading over to the kneading table, grabbing one of the balls of dough and starting to work it in his hands. 

Roland washes his hands as well, and joins him in kneading the bread. He asks “What has been going on up at the base?”

Cedric focused on the way the bread dough felt in his hands as he pushed, pulled and folded it for a couple of seconds before answering, making sure not to put too much strength into manipulating the dough, or else it would tear. The repetitive motions and the care with which he needed to manipulate the bread, while also using some of his strength to get the dough to cooperate properly helped him stay calm as he explained, briefly glancing at you before switching over to Gothic “Over the past couple of months, there have been four new arrivals from M42. All four of them have been Primaris Black Templars. All of them badly injured. Two of them died, despite every effort to get them to a point of stability.” 

Cedric felt the bread tear in his hands and his eyes stung. The young apothecary huffed in frustration, shaking his head as he kneaded the dough back together, suppressing a growl of frustration, willing himself to find the calm that he’d very nearly achieved. 

“It’s unusual for an Astartes to die on Terra.” Roland remarked, also in Gothic, so as to not worry you. “Do you know what they plan on doing with the bodies?”

Cedric scowled “It does not matter what they want to do with the bodies up at the base - and I know what the chief apothecary wants to do with them. But since they are Black Templars and I am the highest ranking Apothecary of their chapter that any of them can get ahold of, I get to decide what happens to them. The organs that were salvageable have already been taken-” Damn it, he tore the bread dough again. A frustrated grunt leaves him as he mashes the torn pieces of dough back together, scowling fiercely “-and I intend on having Malachai and Lestras cremated. I will be speaking with local mortals who have facilities to properly burn their bodies, and intend on having their remains burned by the end of the week. Ramiel is getting the necessary supplies for the Rites of Remembrance, and I do have a holy place in mind for the Rites to be performed.”

Cedric put down the thoroughly kneaded dough ball into a loaf-pan, so that it could prove again and then be cooked. He reached for a second dough ball, his hands squeezing into the soft, giving substance. 

“Is this holy place off-base?” Roland asked perceptively as he set the dough ball he’d been working on in its own tin and grabbed another.

“Ja. There is a beautiful baseline church nearby, with stained-glass windows and a bell that rings beautifully when it is rung. One of the Sisters who tends to the spiritual needs of the mortals is bonded to an Astartes.” Cedric explained. He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he should be fully truthful about this particular Cousin, to avoid any potential… Problems “A pre-heresy Word Bearer Chaplain by the name of Lykus. We’ve spoken a couple of times.”

“And here I thought you tried to avoid every chaplain who wasn’t Ramiel for mysterious reasons.” Roland murmured, a teasing smile on his face “I have seen him around, occasionally. He seems a decent sort, and from well before the Fall of his legion.”

“Ramiel and I plan on holding the Rites of Remembrance in that church as soon as he has everything he needs. The two other Primaris Black Templars would be attending as well, though they’ll need assistance to get to the church, as their wounds are extensive and some of them limit their mobility. I was… We were wondering if you wished to attend.” Cedric explained, this new ball of dough tearing in his hands as he asked. The young apothecary wordlessly grumbles in frustration, rolling the two halves back together between his hands before going back to kneading the dough. He can’t quite look at Roland as he waits for the other’s answer.

“I would be honored to attend the Rites of Remembrance, and to meet the newly arrived Brothers as well.” Roland murmured, his voice warm.

Cedric risked peeking over at Roland. Stilling for a moment as he saw the gentle smile on the older Templar’s face. He swallowed hard, grateful beyond words for his response. “I… Thank you. If… If you wished for your bonded to attend, should she wish to, she would be… She would be welcome.”

Roland’s eyes softened a little and he set down the dough ball he’d been kneading, turning to fully face Cedric. He reached out slowly and pulled Cedric in close, hugging him tightly. “I would be honored to attend, and if you would be more comfortable with this event being Astartes only mein bakerin would understand.”

Some of the poisonous wrath in his hearts faded, as his older Brother hugged him. Cedric was careful to put down the dough in his hands so he didn’t accidentally mash it into Roland’s back as he hugged the other back. If he hid his face in the other’s shoulder for a moment or two as even more tears fell from his treacherous eyes…

Well, Roland was kind enough not to mention it, only hugging him tighter still. “Losing brothers is never easy, and grieving for them isn’t a sin, nor is it a sign of weakness.”

“... There is much to do, before I can grieve them. But I will, once they are resting, and my injured Brothers are healed.” Cedric answered quietly, slowly letting go of Roland and turning back to the ask of kneading dough. 

“... Grief does not wait patiently for one to have the time for it.” Roland warned Cedric “If you try to ignore your grief, it will try und consume you from the inside out. Terra is… Terra is a safer place to process these kinds of emotions, difficult though it is.”

“I will keep that in mind, Bruder Roland.” Cedric half-grumbled, though he did accept the older Templar’s word of warning for what it was. “... I need to tell Arnault of the upcoming Rites of Remembrance as well. I sought you out first as the bakery is closer to the base.”

Roland hummed in acknowledgement before asking “Is there anything else that you want to tell me?”

Cedric hesitated for a moment before shaking his head “Not right now, but thank you for listening.” He slowly let go of one of his older brother and started kneading a dough ball, letting out his frustrations on the soon-to-be loaves of bread.

Roland watched him for a long moment before returning to kneading as well “Alright. But if there is something that weighs on your hearts, or you are struggling with something ,you know you can always come to me, and I will help as best as I can.”

Cedric nodded, shifting a little from foot to foot “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Roland.”

“All is well.” The older Templar responded with a small smile.

Cedric kneaded bread until he felt somewhere close to calm, before washing his hands and saying goodbye to both Roland and his bonded. He was fairly sure that Arnault and his bonded were at home, at this time of day, and planned on stopping by, to see if they’d talk. 

~

The young apothecary made his way over to where Arnault and Angela lived, pausing for a moment when his astartes-sized phone began ringing in his pocket. He paused, stepping to one side of the sidewalk so as to not block foot traffic before pulling the device out of his pocket. The name and number identified the caller as Captain Ash’val.

Cedric silently weighed the pros and cons of answering this phone call as it continued to ring in his hands. On one hand, this could be important, he might being recalled to base because a medical emergency was either happening or inbound and they needed all hands on deck. One of his injured brothers could be reacting poorly to being tended to by firstborn Apothecaries, or had taken a turn for the worse. On the other hand he had snapped at the other in anger, and he had a physical altercation with the chief apothecary of the base… The consequences of that, he knew he was going to be facing shortly after returning to said base. 

Cedric continued to stare at the phone in his hand, paralyzed by indecision. Should he put the phone back into his pocket, pretend that it was on silent, or that he just hadn’t heard it, distracted by the sights and sounds of Gannet Point? Should he face whatever trial this was sure to be now? What should he d-

“Cedric?” Miss Angela called out from behind him, causing the young Black Templar to startle and fumble with his phone. Despite his best efforts, it fell to the ground with a deafening and decidedly bad sounding smack as it  landed screen-first onto the edge of the sidewalk near the road. 

“I.. Uhm. Hello miss Angela!” Cedric managed out, attempting to smile down at the meek baseline human before he quickly knelt and scooped up his now broken phone. Dorn damn it all, today was not at all going the way he’d hoped it would. “I was hoping to speak to you and Arnault, if you are not busy…”

Some of the tension that Miss Angela had been keeping in her shoulders relaxed a little and she responded with “Of course I’d be happy to talk to you. Arnault as well. He got a call from Captain Ash’val not too long ago, actually. He said that something happened at the base and you stormed off, and that no one’s been able to get into contact with you for several hours, since. Arnault, love, Cedric’s over here!” That last sentence she half-shouted.

Arnault materialized out of nowhere, clearly having somehow acquired a teleportation array and the ability to use it effectively. “There you are! Come, we will talk in our home. I’ve heard what Ash’val and Melinth said what happened. I want to hear your side of it. Where have you been?”

Cedric fidgeted feeling guilty for worrying the older Black Templar “I left the base and knew I was being followed, so I shook off the person tailing me and went to the bakery that Roland and his bonded run together and talked to Roland for a while while kneading bread, to help calm down. It… it worked more or less.”

Arnault heaved a sigh at that, shaking his head a little “I am glad that you decided to find a safe way to vent your fury though why did you feel the need to shake off whoever was trying to catch u to you from the base?”

“Because I knew whoever was following me wasn’t one of my fellow Primaris Brothers and I… Don’t know how well I would have reacted to interacting with a fairborn marine who wasn’t a Black Templar in the fury I was in.”

Arnault hummed, nodding a little in understanding “Ja, I get that.”

“The door’s open, love! Once you two are ready to come inside.” Angela called out from the front door of her home before entering.

“Inside, now.” Arnault ordered Cedric, pointing at the door, a stern expression on his face.

“Yes sir.” Cedric responded, obediently doing as he was told as the older Black Templar followed closely behind him.

~

“Do either of you want something to drink?” Angela asked from the kitchen as Cedric and Arnault entered the cozy home. 

“Uhm… Some tea would be nice, if you don’t mind, Miss Angela.” Cedric answered after Arnault stared at him silently for several seconds.

“I’ll have a cup of tea as well, mein Engel.” Arnault called out with a small smile on his face. It faded and he addressed Cedric tersely “You, sit. Couch.”

Cedric barely managed to suppress the instinctual flinch the flat tones and sharp orders from an older brother instinctually provoked. “Yes sir.” he carefully took off his shoes first, putting them in the shoe bin before heading to the aforementioned couch, sitting on the edge of it, anxious. He couldn’t even look at Arnault at all, much less in the eye as he waited for the other to do or say something.

A short but very audible sigh left Arnault as the Emperor’s Champion made his way over to where Cedric was sitting, joining him on the couch. “What I was told by Chief Apothecary Melinth was that he asked you about irregularities that he found in the geneseeds implanted in Malachai and Lestras. In the ensuing argument, you escalated things violently before storming out of the base. Care to explain what happened?”

“Did… Did Apothecary Melinth say why I became violent?” Cedric asked, doing his best to keep his temper in check. Apparently the bread kneading hadn’t been as effective as he’d hoped it would be, as the fury was once more surging to the surface. 

“He did not deign to go into specifics, and I was more focused on finding you before you picked a fight with some renegades or chaos bastards, or were found by them and they needled you into causing a much messier problem. What happened?” Arnault asked. He sounded… Worried? And non-judgmental.

Cedric risked looking directly at Arnault, trying to gauge the other’s emotional state. He looked mildly worried, but otherwise calm.  “He accused me of lying about my origins, and the origins of the other Primaris Marines. That instead of being created by the Mechanicum, we are a group of Bile’s abominations in the shape of Space Marines, meant to infiltrate loyal chapters and weaken them from within.”

“He what?” Arnault growled, a thunderous frown appearing on his face. 

Before the older Templar could say anything else, Angela walked into the living room, carrying three mugs of tea and a couple of plates of fruit and crackers. “Here you go, love, Cedric. I also grabbed a little snack, in case either of you were hungry. Do you want me to stay for this conversation? Or is this something private between brothers?” 

Cedric looked over at Arnault, unsure what the other’s decision about that was going to be. Much of this conversation probably wouldn’t make sense to her, even if they did speak in one of the local languages that she did know, rather than in rapid-fire Gothic. 

Arnault sighed “This conversation is going to be one that won’t make much sense to those who are not Astartes, mein Engel, and there are some things that have been verboten to explain, even to our bonded. I adore having you near me whenever possible, but this is an astartes-only conversation.  I hope you understand.”

“I don’t understand the subject matter, but I will let you talk to your younger brother privately. I’ll be in my sewing room, if you need or want my help or presence.” Angela murmured, a small smile on her face as she walked over and gave Arnault a kiss on the lips before walking off.

“I will always want you near me, unless there is something dangerous going on. Then I will want you to be as safe as possible. Danke schon for understanding, liebling.” Arnault murmured, kissing her back, a loving and affectionate smile on his face. 

Angela nodded and left the room, with Arnault’s gaze lingering on her as she left. Once the sounds of her quiet footsteps could not longer be easily heard, the older Black Templar refocused on the conversation “Is that when you got violent? The presumption that he made that you und your Primaris Brothers were not who you said you were, but infiltrators and saboteurs?”

“No, though I will admit to yelling at him for how incorrect an assumption that was. I became physically violent after he repeatedly crowded into my physical space and attempted to grab me while I was trapped against one of the walls of his office.” Cedric paused for a moment, a slight shiver running down his back at the sheer panic and fury that had been running through him at the time. He continued to confess to Arnault “He tried to either grab or strike me and I responded by ducking his hands and kicking his bad knee out from under him. After that the physical fight continued until I could get to the door to his office and leave. I almost physically bumped into captain Ash’val as I fled the base… And I think I snapped at him, and my words to him were uncalled for and rude. After that I made sure to lose whoever was tracking me from the base and went to go speak to Roland… Though I didn’t tell him about the fight I got into.”

“What did you talk to Roland about?” Arnault prompted, his voice measured and calm.

“There have been four more Primaris who’ve arrived in the past couple of months, all of them fellow Black Templars… And all four of them were badly injured. Two of them are in the medical ward, recovering and going through physical therapy for some of their injuries. The other two…” His voice cracked and broke for a couple of moments. Cedric allowed himself a moment to get his words back before answering, voice quieter and shaking “The other two died. The last one we had a bit of forewarning about his condition and where he was going to appear, because of a vision Jophiel received. Despite all of Chief Apothecary Melinth’s skills, he was unable to save Malachai. Less than twenty-four hours later, both Malachai and Lestras were on surgical tables again, this time led by Melinth and six other high to mid ranking apothecaries of Loyalist, Renegade and Chaos leanings, to study the differences between Firstborn and Primaris Marines.”

Cedric paused for a moment “The newly dead brothers, in addition to the new living ones were what I spoke to Roland about. Along with the fact that Ramiel and I intend to have their Rites of Remembrance held soon, ideally by the end of the week. There is a church in town with beautiful stained-glass windows we intend on holding the Rites there. I have spoken to the Astartes who works there. He’s.” Cedric pauses for a moment, looking over at Arnault “A pre-heresy World Bearer Chaplain, with a bonded who is a Sister. Is… Is that going to be a problem?”

“... Do you know if he is corrupted at all?” Arnault asked, a small frown appearing on his face.

“I’ve talked to him a couple of times and he earnestly believes in the divinity of the god emperor. The fall of his legion distresses him greatly, from what little he’s spoken to me about it.” Cedric reported earnestly. “He shows no signs of corruption, to my knowledge.” Cedric also dutifully informs Arnault the name of the church and it’s address, in case the other wants to look at the church and speak to the chaplain himself first. “Oh! One last thing, if you wish and if she wishes, you may bring your bonded to the Rites of Remembrance.”

“You mentioned that all four of these new Bruders were found injured - Ramiel was also badly injured, upon being found here on Holy Terra as well. Do you know how they got those injuries?” Arnault asked, leaning a little towards Cedric as he asked, a very focused look on his face.

Cedric stilled. How much of the truth should he tell in this moment, without asking his brothers first? And he only had suspicions about who inflicted the wounds on Malachai and Lestras, as he hadn’t been able to ask them before they died. But Pallius and Olivar had both confirmed that they’d been badly beaten by Petras in M42 before awakening in M3 on Holy Terra. “As far as I know, they were injured in M42 and were brought by whatever force is behind this to holy Terra, in this time.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Cedric. Do you know how they got so badly injured?” Arnault reiterated, his eyes narrowing a little as he spoke.

“I can’t say for sure how Malachai and Lestras ended up with injuries that they had.” though he had his suspicions, especially with Malachai’s injuries. They were, unfortunately, very familiar to Cedric. “But I do know that they’d gotten those injuries during the course of their service to the god emperor.” 

Arnault’s eyes narrowed a little further “Cedric… Ash’val showed me pictures of some of the wounds that were inflicted on your brothers - including Ramiel. I know what it looks like when someone has been attacked by Lightning Claws. All of them were attacked by an Astartes. None of them had defensive wounds, which means they did not fight back and you knew where all their injuries were, including internal ones.”

Fuck! What should he do? Cedric… Cedric did trust Arnault, he really did. But this wasn’t just his decision to make… Though, technically as the only Black Templar Apothecary tending to the injured Black Templars in the base it kind of was, in a legal sense. “... They were punished. The sins they allegedly committed vary by Brother, but the one that had them ultimately killed was one that they could not change, nor help.”

“Explain. Now.” Arnault ordered, his face a twisted into a thunderous scowl.

“I told you earlier that the Primaris rollout nearly broke the Chapter. Part of the reason why is because some Black Templars were killing Primaris Marines. A percentage of these murdered Primaris marines were the chosen apprentices of other Firstborn Marines who did not take kindly to their proteges being murdered. It was very nearly a full-on civil war within the chapter, and it…” Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look at Arnault directly as he continued to explain. He had a desire to curl up into as small of a ball as his large frame would allow, but managed to  It only stopped after the High Marshal gathered the full fleet together for a meeting and informed everyone that we Primaris marines were here to stay, and that we were not heretical abominations. If anyone wished to disagree with that, they could fight him for leadership over the chapter. None of his challengers survived the ritual duels, including the marine who was responsible for the deaths of all five of my fellow Primaris Black Templars.”

“Are any of the Black Templars who killed younger brothers currently here on Ancient Terra?” Arnault asked, his voice hard and growly. 

Fuck!

“We… We don’t know for certain.” Cedric answered truthfully… Sort of. Petras was on Holy Terra, but none of them had managed to work up the courage to confront the Chaplain directly, to find out when exactly the chaplain was from. Petras was well over four hundred years old, when he had been felled by High Marshal Helbreicht after all, and had spent well over two hundred years as an honorable and well-regarded chaplain of the Black Templars. 

“Explain to me, what you mean by that. In detail, Cedric.” Arnault growled, still scowling at Cedric.

The younger Black Templar tried very hard not to start obviously panicking. Cedric wasn’t sure how to explain in a way that wouldn’t potentially cause Arnault to fly into a rage. “I… Uhm.. Ah…” He grabbed the cool mug of tea that had been created for him and took a sip from it very slowly, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. Before he could come up with something to tell Roland, there was a strong knock on the door. “You should probably answer the door, Brother Roland.” Cedric timidly suggested, hiding behind the mug of tea as best as he could manage. 

Arnault grumbled under his breath as he stomped over to the front door. “Ja, what do you -oh Hello Roland. Bitte, come in. Cedric and I are having a chat, and you are welcome to join.”

“Danke, I’d be happy to chat with my bruders. Hallo Cedric!” Roland calls out, sounding relatively cheerful.

Oh no. Cedric is starting to feel a little cornered. He surreptitiously pulls out his phone - the screen is indeed shattered, but it does light up when he presses the correct button and checks his text messages. He’s got several missed phone calls from Captain Ash’val. The two of them are walking back to the living room he’s sitting in. Come on, escape from this conversation! His phone began ringing, it was Ramiel. God emperor bless you!i “Hey Rami, what’s going on?”

“Mattias is being brought to the clinic for treatment by his warband. He’s been  badly beaten and half-stripped out of his armor. He’s alive for now, but he’s in bad shape. I really think that it would help if you were at there to help him stay calm while he gets patched up.” Ramiel informed him, voice low and worried.

“Fuck! But he-he was fine when he arrived on Ancient Terra a couple of months ago. He-he didn’t somehow go back to M42 and come back again, did he?” Cedric asked, alarm shooting through him as he got up to his feet. “He was… He was brought to Holy Terra before he… Before he was…”

“I know that he was uninjured when he first came to Ancient Terra. According to the Crusade leader, they were meeting with a different crusade, this one lead by a chaplain captain. The chaplain wanted to talk to him privately. After their conversation he left with his crusade and Mattias didn’t. It took them an hour to find him, and he’s badly hurt.”

“That bastard’s doing it again. Fuck!” Cedric swore “I’ll be at the clinic as soon as I can. Stay safe, and be smart Rami.”

“You too, Cedric!’ Ramiel answered before ending the call. 

Unfortunately for Cedric, before he could try and leave Arnault’s house, he had to get through both Arnault and Roland, who were staring at him with intensity. 

“Hey, so I need to go. I hate to cut this conversation short, but -” Cedric started.

“We overheard your little talk with Ramiel. You will explain to us right now who this bastard harming Primaris Marines is. We have been patient, waiting for you to talk to us. We aren’t waiting anymore.” Arnault growled, lunging forward and grabbing Cedric by the back of the neck.

“Roland… Help!” Cedric called out plaintively, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“Nein, you will answer our questions. Who is causing this harm? Now is not to be silent, like mortal martyrs. Let us help you.” Roland answered, staring at Cedric impassively.

“I don’t know for certain which chaplain it was!” Cedric protested, wriggling more, trying to escape.

“You have your suspicions. Talk, little brother. Now!” Arnault half-snarled at him.

“Chaplain Mephisteil Petras! He was the one who killed at least a dozen primaris marines, including his own Apprentice, Ramiel! He’s here on Holy Terra. We don’t know for sure if he’s from the time he was running around beating Primaris Marines to death, but he’s beaten firstborn Marines to the point that their crusade leaders have sent them to the clinic for treatment twice to my knowledge.” Cedric blurted out, a scowl on his face “Will you let me go now? I need to help keep another brother from dying to firstborn machinations and tempers.”

"I am going to kill him." Arnault responded. His voice was steady and calm, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"We. We are going to kill him." Roland corrected Arnault, shaking his head a little.

"Uhm... We don't know for certain that it was Petras who beat up Mattias..." Cedric pointed out, anxiously.

"True, but this sort of behavior is not something that just goes away." Arnault rumbled "And he was the one who organized the exile of myself and Roland because of our bonds." And because of his writing sins, but Arnault wasn't going to go into that.

“Danke, for finally telling us, Cedric. We will accompany you to the clinic.” Roland murmured as Arnault set him down on his feet. 

“Ja. Let’s go.” The Emperor’s Champion rumbled, a deep-set scowl on his face as the three of them sprinted out of the cozy home and off to the Astartes-run clinic.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

A Court of Fire & Masks

Eris Vanserra x OC

Chapter 4

Summary Penelope enters the glamorous yet treacherous world of Autumn Court life, where appearances are everything, and even the slightest misstep could ruin her families reputation. As the youngest daughter of a noble family, she's expected to smile, nod, and blend in - just like her older sister. But when Penelope's curiosity about inter-court politics leads to a forbidden mention of unrest, she quickly realizes she may not have the weaponry for the brutal battle of social court, especially when she runs up against heir to the court, Eris Vanserra.

Content Warnings:

Emotional manipulation

Verbal and emotional abuse

Power imbalances

Anxiety and panic

Mentions of sexism & misogyny

Dark themes of cruelty

Word Count: 6,802

The sound of laughter filled the sunlit drawing room, a melody of high-pitched giggles and soft conversations drifted through the open windows out onto the lawn of the manor. The scent of fresh flowers, no doubt plucked from the garden that morning by Prudence, lingered in the air, while Pearl and Prita bickered over their embroidery patterns.

Penelope sat by the window, her eyes skimming over the rolling hills of the orchard, though her thoughts were far from the fields she cast her gaze upon. She could hear Persimmon’s voice drifting across the room, offering some carefully measured advice to Persephone, no double about court etiquette as Persephone perched upon the dress stand, two seamstresses remeasuring the same skirt once more.

Persephone — only two years younger than Penelope would be introduced to court at the beginning of next season, and was already being well informed of the interworking of court politics. She nodded along, though the mischievous glint in her eyes made it clear she was already planning to do the opposite of whatever Persimmon advised. “Honestly, Sim,” Persephone sighed, turning slightly on her stand to give the seamstress more access to the panel she was adjusting, “I don’t think it’s that important to laugh at every one of Lord Cedric’s jokes. I’m sure he knows they’re terrible.”

“Whether they’re terrible or not is beside the point,” Persimmon replied smoothly, her posture as straight as ever as she perched on the edge of the wingback chair. “Court is about diplomacy, even in the smallest moments. A well-placed laugh or smile can make all the difference in whether someone sees you as an ally or an opponent.”

Penelope’s lips twitched as she listened. Persimmon had always been the epitome of grace and control, perfectly groomed for the role of a lady in court, even though her own marriage prospects had been slow to materialize. Persephone, on the other hand, was less inclined to follow the rules, often pushing boundaries and prodding at traditions that had been long instilled in them.

“I’m not going to marry someone just because they have a sense of humor,” Persephone muttered, casting a quick glance at Penelope. “What do you think, Pen? Would you marry someone boring if they had a good title?”

Penelope blinked, finally brought back into consciousness by the question. “I supposed that depends on how boring,” she replied lightly, though her normal recurrent unease remained. The weight of Aiden’s unspoken proposal lingered at the back of her mind like a persistent shadow. She hadn’t told anyone about it, not even Persimmon.

Persephone grinned. “Exactly. I think I’ll take my chances on excitement.”

"Excitement fades," Persimmon said, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "What lasts is stability."

Persephone rolled her eyes, the gesture exaggerated enough for Persimmon to notice. With a sharp scoff, Persimmon stood and gave her younger sister a playful whack on the thigh with a rolled-up magazine she had been perusing.

“Well, it’s certainly quite unladylike to roll your eyes when someone is giving you advice on how to compose yourself.”

Persephone let out a loud, unbridled laugh, one so free it could only belong to someone untouched by the full weight of court politics. "Stop being such an old crone, Sim. You know frowning will only give you wrinkles," she teased, flashing a wicked grin.

Persimmon, never one to lose her composure, lifted her chin slightly. “Just see how it works out for you when you're labeled brutish in front of the lords and ladies. We'll see who has the last laugh."

The seamstress let out an audible sigh, clearly frustrated as she lost her place while Persephone dodged her sister’s swats. She began re-threading her needle as Persephone stepped down from the pedestal, abandoning the fitting. “Honestly, do you have so little faith in me, Sim? I think I know how to compose myself in court."

Persimmon crossed her arms, her stance one of amused authority. "I'm just thankful to the Mother we have a few more months to train you out of those nasty habits."

Persephone scoffed, tossing a hand in Penelope's direction, where she sat quietly by the window. "Please, Penelope can be just as boorish and still get a proposal."

Penelope's head snapped up, her brows furrowing as her heart skipped a beat. “What?"

"Boorish is uncalled for,” Persimmon interjected, her tone slightly scolding, but Penelope was already too focused to care.

“What proposal?” Penelope demanded, her voice sharper, her pulse quickening as she stared at her sisters. She could feel her fingers curling into the fabric of her gown, tension tightening across her shoulders.

Both Persimmon and Persephone exchanged confused glances, the mood in the room shifting in an instant. Persephone spoke first, her tone light but filled with underlying implications. "Well," she said coyly, "it's no secret that Lord Aiden has his sights set on you."

Penelope felt a flush creep up her cheeks as she flicked a nervous gaze between her sisters, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger wash over her.

"I-" Penelope faltered, her breath catching. "There's no proposal," she insisted, though the words felt forced and defensive. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she could feel heat creeping up her cheeks. "Nothing has been said-" The room fell silent as all five sisters locked eyes with Penelope. She shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny and nervously cleared her throat before continuing. "It's just...there's nothing formal yet. No reason to get my hopes up for something that isn't happening."

Persimmon furrowed her brow and took a tentative step towards Penelope. "Isn't happening?" she questioned. "Pen, you must be blind if you can't see the way he hangs about you. Not to mention his increased interest in father's business ventures, it’s clear he’s preparing for a family merger." The weight of Persimmon's words settled heavily on Penelope's shoulders.

With each word from Persimmon's mouth, Penelope felt herself growing smaller until the world around her seemed too big and suffocating. "I know that," she finally admitted. "But I don't want to get my hopes up," she quickly added, trying to deflect their attention away from the truth.

Persimmon gave her a reassuring smile, crossing the room to place her hands on Penelope's shoulders. "Believe me, the attraction from males is not subtle. He has his sights set on you," she said firmly.

Penelope forced a smile, even though there was no genuine joy or reassurance behind it.

Persephone’s eyes flicked toward the open window, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Speaking of Lord Aiden,” she said, her voice teasing, “Penelope, it seems your knight in shining armor is coming down the drive.”

The room erupted into a flurry of excited giggles as all five of Penelope's sisters bounded toward the window, their skirts brushing against one another as they crowded for a better view. Penelope, however, remained frozen in place, her heart sinking deep into her stomach, though she tried in vain to will it back to her chest. She could hear the distant sound of hooves on the gravel drive, steady and rhythmic, before they came to a halt. A dull thud of boots followed, and the next thing she knew, Prudence was leaning out of the window, her arm waving enthusiastically.

“Lord Aiden!” Prudence called out, her voice brimming with youthful excitement.

Persimmon gave a sharp whack to Prudence’s arm, a disapproving scowl forming on her otherwise composed face. But the reprimand was short-lived, as Lord Aiden's cheerful voice drifted up from below, rich and melodic.

“Good afternoon, Lady Prudence!” he called, his tone as warm as ever.

From her position, Penelope could see her other sisters squeezing into the window beside Prudence, their faces alight with joy. Aiden greeted them all in turn, his voice unmistakably fond.

“Lady Persimmon, Lady Persephone, Lady Pearl,” he said, each name rolling off his tongue with ease.

Prita, young and innocent, allowed her curiosity to cut through the polite greetings. “Are you here to see father, or Penelope?” she called, her small voice carrying an air of playful boldness.

Another round of giggles rippled through the huddled group as they leaned out of the window, waiting for Aiden’s response. His laughter followed swiftly, warm and unbothered.

“I’m here to see your father,” Aiden replied, humor coloring his tone, “but if Penelope is in, I’d love to see her as well!”

Penelope didn’t need to glance toward the window to know what followed. She could feel the sudden shift in the room, the weight of her sisters' expectant gazes turning towards her. The smiles on their faces practically shimmered with delight, their amusement palpable. But instead of joining in their mirth, Penelope remained rooted to her spot, her pulse quickening, her feet unwilling to move.

As Aiden’s boots crunched over the gravel below, the clamor of her sisters racing to the door filled the room. They were already tittering excitedly, their voices overlapping as they darted down the hallway, eager to greet him. And still, Penelope stood, a statue amidst the chaos, hoping—irrationally, desperately—that if she didn’t move, she might become invisible. That somehow, if she stayed perfectly still, she could avoid the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

Persimmon was the last one to the door, suddenly seeming aware of Penelope’s lack of movement. “Pen,” she said, her voice light and teasing, “Come down! You don’t want to keep Lord Aiden waiting.”

Penelope snapped out of her daze, forcing a smile onto her face that felt anything but genuine. “Of course,” she replied, though the words felt as heavy as the knot in her stomach.

As she trailed slowly down the hallway of the drawing room, her hands brushing against the smooth banister, she could already hear the lively clamor of her younger sisters echoing through the house. They were practically stumbling over themselves as they raced toward the grand entrance hall, eager to greet Lord Aiden. The familiar chime of the doorbell rang out, followed by excited whispers and the tapping of shoes as her sisters nearly collided in their eagerness to reach the door first.

From her vantage point on the balcony that overlooked the foyer, Penelope could see her mother sweeping into view, her posture straight and commanding as Prita almost crashed into the folds of her gown. Lady Estelle gave the young girl a sharp look of disapproval, eyes narrowing as she turned to face the gaggle of giggling girls who had barely managed to keep from tumbling down the stairs in their excitement.

“Really, girls, you must compose yourselves,” their mother scolded, her tone firm, and laced with disappointment.

At once, all five of them snapped to attention, their shoulders straightening as though they had been given marching orders by a commanding officer. Persimmon, Persephone, Prudence, Pearl, and Prita each adopted a more ladylike posture, their flushed faces still brimming with enthusiasm despite the reprimand. They stood, watching in anticipation as their mother opened the large oak doors with a practiced grace.

A radiant smile spread across Lady Estelle’s face as she greeted their guest. “Ah, Lord Aiden, what a pleasant surprise!”

If it had been remotely appropriate, Penelope would have turned and fled back to her room. But instead, she stood frozen at the top of the stairs, her heart pounding as she peered down at her sisters, who practically buzzed with excitement..

Aiden’s voice drifted up the staircase, warm and unmistakably cheerful. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Lady Estelle.”

“Oh, of course not,” her mother replied, her tone practically beaming.

Aiden chuckled lightly, his eyes glancing at the group of eager girls assembled before him. “I’ve actually come to call on Lord Elian. I was hoping to discuss the orchards—our recent arrangements have overlapped, and I thought we could go over a few things.”

“Of course, please come in, Lord Aiden,” Lady Estelle said, stepping back with a gracious sweep of her hand to invite him inside. The smile on her face never wavered as she welcomed him in.

Penelope watched as Aiden stepped over the threshold, his blonde hair slightly tousled from his ride, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow catching the light. He offered a polite nod to each of the sisters, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. But despite the pleasantness in his voice, there was a fleeting moment—just a flicker—of disappointment on his face, as though he was searching for something or someone.

From her place at the top of the stairs, Penelope’s grip tightened on the balcony railing, her knuckles turning white. She wasn’t ready for this. Not for the weight of her family’s expectations, not for the forced smiles and well-rehearsed pleasantries that were bound to follow.

Lady Estelle’s heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she moved closer to Aiden. “My husband is just in his study. I’ll fetch him for you.” She offered him a warm smile before disappearing down the hallway, her steps light but purposeful.

Prita, eager to be helpful, stepped forward from the carefully formed line of sisters. Her small voice rang out, innocent but confident. “Can I take your jacket for you, Lord Aiden?”

Aiden’s smile softened at the young girl’s offer. “That’s very kind of you, Lady Prita,” he said, slipping off his riding jacket and handing it to her. The fabric practically engulfed her small frame, the jacket looking more like a blanket draped over her arms as she struggled to hold it up. She gave a polite curtsy before scurrying off to put it away.

Persimmon, ever the image of grace and propriety, took a step forward, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. “Lord Aiden, what a delight it is to have you here today.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Aiden replied, his tone warm and genuine. “Though I do hope I’m not intruding on your father’s work.”

“Nonsense,” Persimmon said with a wave of her hand. “Father is always happy to discuss the orchards. He never tires of it.”

Aiden chuckled, though his gaze drifted around the room, clearly looking for something—or someone. His smile remained polite, but there was a searching quality to his expression, a quiet restlessness just beneath the surface.

Sensing his subtle curiosity, Persimmon’s eyes darted briefly to the top of the staircase, where she knew Penelope was still standing. “Oh,” she said, raising her voice just enough to carry, “Penelope is just upstairs. I’m sure she’ll be down any minute now!”

All eyes turned toward Penelope, who felt her stomach drop. She could feel their expectant gazes even without looking directly at them. Forcing herself to move, she took a hesitant step forward, her heart pounding as her mother’s words from earlier echoed in her mind. Compose yourself.

She began her descent down the grand staircase, each step slow and deliberate, as if the weight of the moment was pressing down on her shoulders with every inch she moved. The false smile she had plastered on earlier stayed fixed in place, but inside, her emotions churned like a storm ready to break.

Aiden’s eyes finally landed on her as she reached the bottom step, his expression brightening in an instant. “Penelope,” he greeted warmly, offering her a gentle smile, “I was hoping I might see you today.”

Penelope returned the smile, though the effort felt almost painful. “And here I am,” she said softly, hoping her voice didn’t betray the tangled mess of feelings inside her.

“Radiant as ever,” Aiden said, his eyes lingering on her, the compliment smooth and sincere.

At his words, Penelope’s sisters practically vibrated with excitement, their faces glowing as they exchanged delighted glances. It was as though the compliment had been given to all of them, and they could barely contain their enthusiasm.

As Penelope descended the last few steps, Aiden closed the short distance between them. He extended his hand, and though Penelope’s stomach twisted, she placed hers in his. His grip was warm, gentle, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. The quiet squeals that followed from her sisters sent a fresh wave of heat to her cheeks.

Before she could utter a word, her mother and father appeared, their footsteps hurried and light as they crossed the foyer.

“Girls, please,” Lady Estelle said, her voice firm but not unkind as she waved her hand towards the crowd of daughters. “Give Lord Aiden some space.”

At once, her sisters stepped back in a perfect synchronized movement, as if rehearsed, leaving Penelope standing beside Aiden, alone in the spotlight. Aiden’s smile remained soft and inviting, his brows raised playfully in reaction to Lady Estelle’s gentle reprimand. He turned slightly, extending his hand to Lord Elian, who approached with a broad, proud grin on his face.

“Lord Elian,” Aiden greeted, clasping his hand in a firm handshake.

Her father’s chest seemed to puff out, his smile widening even further. “Lord Aiden,” he returned warmly. “I wasn’t expecting to see your friendly face today.”

“I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important,” Aiden offered.

“Nonsense!” Her father’s voice rang out, full of energy. “I always appreciate your company. Tell me, what can I do for you?”

Aiden smiled and shook his head lightly, a modest gesture as if not wanting to impose. “I was just passing by and recalled our recent conversation about dividing labor for the harvest this fall. I’ve spoken with my father about it, and he agrees—given the percentage of land ownership—it’s only fair we account for a larger share of harvesters in that area.”

Penelope stood quietly, watching the scene unfold, her heart sinking deeper as she took in the exchange. Her father’s pride was palpable. She had heard the same admiration for Aiden during countless family dinners, her father praising his eagerness to learn the business. Aiden, after all, was everything Lord Elian could have wished for in a son—a driven, respectful young male who was genuinely interested in the estate’s future.

“I’m glad to hear he’s on board,” her father responded, his smile growing wider. “Come, let’s discuss it further in the study. I’ve got an apple brandy that I’ve been saving for just such an occasion.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Aiden said, though his tone remained light, as if he knew the offer would be extended regardless.

“Not at all,” Lady Estelle interjected, stepping beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Lord Elian has been going on about that brandy for months. You’d be doing us all a favor by finally giving him a reason to open it.”

Aiden chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Her father let out a hearty laugh, clapping Aiden on the back. “That’s the spirit! Come along, let’s not waste any more time.”

Penelope’s father pressed a gentle hand on Aiden’s back, guiding him toward the study. But just as they began to move, Aiden glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Penelope.

“Penelope,” he called, his tone light yet.

At the sound of her name, Penelope straightened, her spine stiffening with surprise. She hadn’t expected to be addressed, much less involved in the conversation.

“Why don’t you come with us?” he suggested, his voice still carrying that note of nonchalance, as though the invitation was entirely casual.

Penelope’s pulse quickened. “To the study?” she asked, her voice betraying her shock despite her best efforts to keep her expression neutral.

Aiden smiled, warm and inviting which only deepened the knot of confusion in her stomach. “Why not?” he said, his eyes filled with something almost...hopeful.

Her father chuckled, giving Aiden a light shake on the shoulder. “I’m sure Lord Aiden wouldn’t mind your company,” he added, though it seemed forced.

Penelope’s fingers instinctively clenched at the folds of her gown. She had rarely, if ever, been invited to her father’s study. In truth, she knew very little about her father beyond his role as provider, his distant presence felt more like a fixture than a guiding force in her life. Her mother had always emphasized that her father’s duty was to ensure their wealth and security—that anything more, especially when it came to the emotional and domestic sides of their lives, was to ask too much.

Lord Elian had always been an elusive figure, a shadow at the dining table or an approving nod from the end of the room during large gatherings. He wasn’t cold, but distant, like the sun shining just beyond the clouds, unreachable.

The reality of his role wasn’t unusual in the Autumn Court, where fathers of high rank were often expected to manage estates, businesses, and the finer points of political alliances. Their relationships with daughters, particularly those without sons, were often more formal, almost ceremonial. Still, Penelope had grown up holding him in a certain untouchable regard—almost like a revered statue in a grand hall, admired from afar but never approached too closely.

“I...” She hesitated, glancing at her mother, who lingered near the foyer, observing the exchange with her usual composed smile. Penelope's eyes flitted to her sisters, who stood in curious silence, waiting for her response. The entire moment felt surreal, as though the air itself had grown thicker, heavier, with expectation.

Aiden’s gaze remained steady on hers, warm and patient. “I would enjoy your company, Penelope,” he said, his voice gentle, coaxing.

Penelope swallowed, trying to steady her breath as she offered a slight nod. “Of course,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. But why do I feel like I’m walking into something much larger than myself?

As the two males strode down the hallway, Penelope followed behind. Her mother threw her a hopeful, yet tight smile, and pushed her shoulders back, reminding Penelope to maintain her poise.

Penelope straightened her spin, her lips pressed tightly together as she tried to steady her breath. Her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears, nearly drowning out the sound of her father and Aiden’s light conversation ahead of her. The long, dim hallway leading to her father’s study felt like a tunnel of judgment, lined with portraits of her ancestors whose painted eyes seemed to follow her every step. Their scrutinizing gaze and unsmiling faces made her feel smaller with every passing moment.

A few steps ahead of her, her father’s large hand clapped reassuringly on Aiden’s shoulder, and together they strode toward the wide, heavy door at the end of the hall. They moved easily, lost in conversation, their voices deep and familiar, the kind of camaraderie that he might have shared with a son.

As they reached the door to her father’s study, he swung it open with a casual motion. Sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating the overly large room. The study overlooked endless rows of orchards, the trees standing proudly beneath the golden glow of late afternoon. Maps and charts lined the walls between the tall arched windows — carefully plotted planting rotations, all displaying the intricacies of the estate her father managed with such diligence. At the center of the room sat his desk, an imposing piece of craftsmanship carved from the very apple trees that had first grown on the land. The way it stood — dominant and commanding — made it clear that this room was more than a study. It was a throne room, and her father held court here.

Her father and Aiden shared a hearty laugh, their voices bouncing off the polished wood floors lined with thick intricate carpets. Her father wasted no time, heading directly to the bar cart at the far side of the room, muttering something to himself with a pleased grin on his face. Aiden, on the other hand, moved more slowly, taking his time to settle into one of the deep velvet wingback chairs near the desk, his posture easy and comfortable.

Penelope, however, lingered by the door. Should she sit? Stand? The room felt too heavy, even with the tall ceilings, it was suffocating. She remained rooted in place, a bead of sweat trickling down her spine, and she swallowed, trying to tamp down the creeping sense of anxiety that had rooted in her chest.

With a triumphant gleam in his eye, her father turned back to them, holding two crystal glasses and an old bottle of brandy, its label faded and worn. “Aha!” he declared, his voice thick with satisfaction. He crossed the room, pouring the amber liquid into the two crystal glasses. The scent of the aged liquor filled the room, nauseating to Penelope. Her father handed a glass to Aiden, who accepted it with a nod, swirling it gently.

“To the future!” Lord Elian toasted, raising his glass with pride.

But before Auden could clink his glass in celebration, he turned over his shoulder, his gaze falling warmly on Penelope. “Penelope,” he began, his voice as warm as the sun streaming through the windows, “would you like a glass?”

Penelope blinked, caught off guard. “Oh—” she stammered softly, taking a hesitant step forward. Her father’s gaze lingered, and though he said nothing, the subtle tightening of his features spoke volumes. She swallowed, managing a small smile. “No, that’s alright,” she murmured as she forced a soft, polite, embarrassed smile onto her face.

Aiden, unfazed, flashed and encouraging, almost teasing smile as he sidestepped her father and retrieved a third glass from the bar cart. “Oh, come on Pen, I know you aren’t fond of champagne, but apple brandy?” he said, pouring the rich amber liquid. “It’s different. I think you’ll like the cinnamon flavors.” He turned, handing her the glass, his expression light, kind, free of any agenda.

Penelope hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of her father’s eyes still on her. But Aiden’s face, warm and sincere, devoid of any pretense, coaxed her into accepting the drink. She reached out, her hand trembling just slightly as she took the glass from him, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Aiden offered her another encouraging smile before turning back to her father who still stood watching them. “If we’re toasting to the future,” Aiden said, “then it only seems right that all members of the future be included.”

Penelope’s father blinked, clearly taken aback by Aiden’s bold inclusion of his daughter, his mouth hanging slightly open. He cast a glance at Penelope who felt herself shrinking even more.

But after a brief pause, her father cleared his throat, and lifted his glass once more, his voice forced but steady. “Of course,” she said finally, his expression resigned but trying to appear jovial. “To the future.”

As the warm amber liquid crossed her lips, it burned her tongue and gums, forcing Penelope to swallow with difficulty. The burn trailed all the way down her throat and into her belly, where it settled alongside the heavy knot that had already formed there. Aiden hissed softly through his teeth, holding the glass away from him as if analyzing it. A chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest. “That’s strong,” he remarked, his tone light and amused.

Lord Elain laughed heartily as he drained the last of his own glass, immediately refilling it. “I would hope so, given it’s been aged for a century!”

A century, and yet it still tastes like poison, Penelope thought bitterly, though she kept her expression polite, hiding her distaste.

Her father gestured to the chair behind Aiden, his tone generous, “Please, sit.”

Aiden turned to Penelope, flashing a smile as he gestured to the seat just behind her, “Ladies first.”

Penelope placed her half-finished brandy glass on her father’s desk, smoothing her gown before seating herself. She felt the weight of her father’s stare settle heavily on her shoulders, and her eyes instinctively dropped to the ground as she tried to hide her discomfort. Aiden took the seat next to her, and her father, leaning back in his oversized chair, folded his hands over his desk, watching them both with a casual yet keen gaze.

For a brief, tense moment, no one spoke. Aiden crossed one leg over the other, swirling the last remnants of brandy in his glass. The silence stretched out as if both males were waiting for the other to speak first, sizing each other up in a subtle battle of wills. Penelope could feel the tension simmering beneath the surface, but neither her father nor Aiden let it show in their demeanor.

Penelope wondered if the quiet would have been more natural if she weren’t in the room. Surely they’d be discussing business by now, she thought. But instead, they sat in this heavy silence, a formality that felt stifling, as though the air was thick with unspoken words she wasn’t privy to.

Finally, Aiden broke the silence, turning his head toward her. “Penelope, what do you know of your family’s business?” he asked, his voice casual.

Penelope blinked in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry?” she asked, momentarily thrown off balance.

Aiden’s expression remained open and interested, with no trace of an ulterior motive. “How much have you been involved or informed about your father’s business dealings?” he clarified.

Penelope’s eyes flicked to her father, whose stoic expression revealed too little. She swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “As much as my father deemed necessary to tell me,” she replied, unsure whether to lean into the innocent daughter role or pretend that she had been more involved in her father’s affairs than she actually was. She tried to look to her father for the answer, but he gave no indication of what he would prefer her to do. She could feel the tightrope she was walking.

Aiden’s lips quirked into a smile. “I only ask because I think it’s important for the children of such successful business operators to understand the workings of such enterprises.” He turned his gaze back to her father, his tone respectful, yet laced with subtle challenge. “We wouldn’t want all your secrets to live with you.”

Lord Aiden’s smile was friendly, his words held an undercurrent of tension, as though he were testing the waters, pushing at the boundaries of the traditional Autumn Court mindset. Penelope’s throat tightened. He’s challenging him. Aiden’s words seemed to toe the line of respect, yet it was clear that there was more at stake than polite conversation.

Her father, composed, allowed a slow smile to spread across his face, though his eyes gleamed with something harder beneath the surface. “I agree,” he said, leaning more forward, the weight of his chair creaking under him. “Though after being blessed with daughters, I’ve always looked forward to passing my knowledge onto their husbands. You know how females can be,” he chuckled, as if sharing a private joke, confident Aiden would understand.

Aiden’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘how they can be’?” he asked, his tone measured.

Penelope’s father hesitated for a moment, glancing briefly at her before averting his gaze back to Aiden. “I just mean that females don’t have the same…” he paused, searching for the right words, “entrepreneurial drive, as us males. It’s not in their nature.”

The bile rose in Penelope’s throat, but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to remain silent. Her pulse quickened, the weight of the expectations in the room laying heavily on her chest. She wanted to speak up, to challenge the archaic belief that her father had just so casually laid bare. But she knew better than to step out of line, especially in front of another male that her father was posturing in front of. She was no one’s property but her father’s and challenging him would only make things more complicated.

To her surprise, Aiden chuckled softly, though his posture remained relaxed, his eyes still flickered with some unspoken fire. “I believe you’re selling your daughter a bit short,” he said, his voice kind but pointed. Penelope felt her heart skip.

Aiden continued, turning to face her slightly, “Penelope here has quite the calculating mind. Not to mention a drive and passion I think you’re underestimating.” He glanced back to her father, an edge in his voice as he looked at her. “In fact, I’d wager she could run intellectual circles around the both of us.”

Penelope’s breath caught, and she dared not look up at her father. The room was charged with tension. The two males veiled in polite words. Aiden’s compliment - though genuine - carried with it an undercurrent of defiance, a subtle challenge to her father’s, and many other older males, old-fashioned beliefs.

Her father smiled thinly, though his fingers flexed slightly on the armrest of his chair. “Is that so?” he said, his voice smooth but tight. His gaze locked on Penelope as though she had caused this grand betrayal.

Aiden’s gaze remained steady. “Absolutely. In fact, I think Penelope has the potential to contribute more to her family’s legacy than any husband could.”

Her father’s smirk was reptilian, cold and unfeeling. In all of Penelope’s life, she had never had a personal conversation with him. Never been invited to the rooms where real decisions were made. Her world had always been confined to the drawing rooms and parlors, honing her skills in the pursuit of finding a husband — someone who could take over the estate or elevate her family’s status. She had no mind for business, not because she lacked the intelligence, but because she had never been allowed to develop one. Yet here, in this room, Aiden’s challenge seemed to ignite something deep within her — a simmering anger that bubbled at her father’s casual dismissal, his overt disregard for her capabilities.

Still, there was no world in which she could openly challenge him. Not here. Not now.

Her father guffawed at Aiden’s statement, the booming sound jarring enough to make her jump. “My dear boy,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye, “you are most definitely part of the younger generation.” He laughed again, louder this time. “Ladies are meant for continuing families. Males ensure prosperity.”

Aiden didn’t laugh. In fact, his expression hardened. “I disagree,” he said, his voice firm but measured. “I believe there are plenty of females who could run an estate far better than I could. And I certainly don’t plan to treat my future wife as someone whose only purpose is to bear me children and raise them.”

Penelope’s heart thudded painfully in her chest, a rising tide of frustration and embarrassment swirling inside of her. She wished she could simply disappear — melt into the floor or evaporate into the air. Anything to remove herself from this moment. Her father, however, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by Aiden’s response. He eyed the young lord with mild amusement, a small chuckle escaping him.

“You’re still young,” he said, leaning back in his chair with an air of self-satisfaction. “Once you’re married, you’ll find that involving a wife in business can make everything more complicated. Suddenly, time in bed becomes more of a chore, and you start hearing her nagging voice a little too often.”

Penelope’s stomach churned as her father continued, his words like sharp needles pricking her skin. He had seven daughters — seven — and yet he thought so little of them? Of her? Resentment gnawed at her insides, but she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, biting back the urge to speak. She could feel Aiden’s tension beside her, though he remained composed, listening patiently as her father rambled on about the importance of keeping business and marriage separate.

When her father finally finished his tirade, Aiden spoke with a clam, steady tone. “Lord Elain, I appreciate your advice, and I look forward to seeing what marriage teaches me.” His words were polite, but there was a sharpness beneath them — an edge that only someone like Penelope, who had been observing him so closely, might notice.

Her father seemed satisfied with Aiden’s response, but then his attention shifted back to Penelope. “Penelope,” he said, and she flinched slightly at the sound of her name. “Why don’t you go and attend to your sisters? Lord Aiden and I have much to discuss, and I’m concerned that the whole ordeal might bore you.”

Penelope’s face burned with humiliation, her pulse thrumming in her ears. After everything Aiden had said, after defending her, after implying that she was capable of more than her father gave her credit for — her father still had the nerve to dismiss her, to send her off like a child. She wanted to scream, to argue, but she knew better. The repercussions from her mother would be swift, and she didn’t dare risk it.

“Of course,” she said through gritted teeth, nodding her head and rising from her seat.

As she stood, Aiden rose with her, his eyes softening, a hint of sadness in his expression as though he, too, was disappointed by her departure. “Lady Penelope,” he began, his voice gentle, “if I don’t have a chance to speak with you before I leave, it was a pleasure seeing you today.”

“Likewise,” she responded, though her voice felt hollow. Aiden reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the back of it. When he released her, Penelope’s gaze dropped to the floor.

She hurried out of the study, the door closing heavily behind her, and as soon as it clicked shut, she felt the weight of the room’s tension leave her shoulders. Yet, the burn of anger and embarrassment still lingered.

Penelope had half-expected her sisters to be huddled outside the study door, eavesdropping as they always did — not for insight into business dealings, but to witness Aiden’s interaction with her. She could already hear their excited whispers, giggling over imagined glances and analyzing every detail as if the outcome of the conversation was already decided. But as she hurried down the long hallway, she realized she was alone. No curious faces pressed to the wall, no giggles trailing behind her.

For once, it seemed no one was watching.

She didn’t bother returning to the drawing room. Instead, she moved swiftly to the foyer, pushing through the grand front door into the early fall air, the tears she’d been fighting for the last ten minutes finally spilling over as she descended the marble steps. She swiped at them with trembling fingers, but her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. Her chest felt tight, her lungs burning as she tried and failed to hold back the sobs that clawed their way up her throat.

The weight of everything — her father’s dismissal, Aiden’s well-meaning but suffocating affection, her families’ constant expectations — it all pressed down on her until it was unbearable.

The manor faded into the distance as she strode purposefully down the path, her steps carrying her toward the orchards. The trees had always been her sanctuary, her safe place. Even as a child, when everything in the house felt too big, too stifling, she would wander between the rows of apple trees, letting the warmth of the sun on her skin and the hum of the bees lull her into a sense of peace. The orchards were the one place where she could breathe — where no one demanded anything from her.

Now, with the weight of the world bearing down on her, they were the only place she wanted to be. Her feet carried her there without thought.

Her hand pressed against her stomach, trying to steady the tremble in her chest. The familiar scent of ripe apples hung in the air, carried by the gentle autumn breeze, and slowly, with every step she took, the tension began to release. She wiped the last of her tears away, feeling the ache in her lungs start to ease as she ventured deeper into the orchard, where the trees grew close and the world beyond the leaves seemed to disappear.

Here, under the canopy of branches, she could be just Penelope. Not the daughter of Lord Elian, not the future wife of Lord Aiden — just herself.

She stopped near the oldest tree, its bark weathered and worn from decades of bearing fruit. She placed her hand on the trunk, feeling the roughness of it beneath her palm. The steady, unchanging presence of the trees calmed her, as it always had. The bees hummed, the leaves rustled softly in the breeze, and Penelope let her head fall back, her eyes fluttering shut. Out here, away from the study, away from the watchful eyes of everyone in her home and at court, she could almost forget the world beyond the orchard existed.

A Court of Fire and Masks Master List

Tagged: @mrsjna @lilah-asteria @ambivalence-is-me @rcarbo1 @aaliyahmorielle

[articskele]

IM NORMAL ABOUT CHARACTERS IM NORMAL ABOUT MY OCS I. GODDDDD. IM GONNA BE ILL.

SOMETHING SOMETHING CEDRIC VIEWING PEOPLE AS PAWNS AND GETTING AWAY WITH MURDER. AND CHESS BEING A RECURRING THING IN THE MV. AUGHHHH

DOVE AND CEDRIC WERE FRIENDS!!!! THEY WERE BEST FRIENDS THEY'VE KNOWN EACH OTHER SINCE CHILDHOOD THEY'VE SEEN EACH OTHER AT THEIR WORST THEY KNOW EACH OTHER BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE!!!!!!

IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THEM. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THEM. YEARS OF TRUST AND MEMORIES BROKEN BY LIES. WARMTH REPLACED WITH WHITE HOT RAGE AND HOLY RETRIBUTION AND A PAIN IN YOUR HEART THAT MAKES YOU FEEL SICK.

CEDRIC LEAVING CLAW MARKS IN EVERYTHING HE LOVES BC HE'S SO FUCKING DESPERATE TO NOT BE ABANDONED. DOVE LEAVING HIM IN THE DUST AND MOVING ON WITH HER LIFE. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thinking about Self Proclaimed Angel and how it is THE Dove song ever. Go girlie kill!!!

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup! June 2024

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the month of June. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what it was!

1. I read a fic 10-15 years ago about 8th year drarry and their bedroom doors were linked with the person who matched them sexually (obvs drarry matched) it wasn’t on ao3 it was on some old fic website that was a dark green colour. It was deffo an explicit fic.

2. looking for a drarry fic that is also multiple pairings. i read it on ao3, i think 3+ years ago and have been trying to find it since. it's at hogwarts after i think fifth year? harry finds out that students have orgies in the room of requirements, i think its called the five o club or something similar-club, he joins one time and there he fucks draco, the twins, i think also cedric and cho and some others

3. I read it on ao3 and it was fairly long if that helps. It's a fic set after the end of the war, where Draco has gone missing out of the country, Harry finds him living with a group of muggle ocs somewhere, in some sort of shelter, with no memories of his past, not even recalling his name. For most of the fic he's even called by a different name, though I cant remember which

4. I think this fic was fairly known i guess. It was a multi chapter fic. It was set in Hogwarts ( I am not sure if this was the 8th year or not but they were surely not kids). Ron once said that in wizarding world people don't care about gender or sexuality. And that all wizards have a little bit of gayness or poof in them. ( I don't remember the exact wording). Ron also said so we're that draco is pretty and they on care if the person is pretty or not (like not their gender). Hermione and draco have become friends and they were in library talking when Ron came and saw them and he was angry (not too much). Seeing this draco got up and gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek ( he did this with his friends as well, first time he did this to hermione it was an accident). But Ron stopped him by grabbing him from behind and draco just seductively looked over him from his lashes and said Ron. He was then quickly released and gave Hermione one more kiss before going. Ron was then sitting on the table. When Hermione asked him if he was hard () and then started to comfort him like it's fine etc and Ron is just embarrassed and draco is listening to all of this hiding behind a bookshelf. After hearing this he left the library smiling a little. Harry in this fic i am not sure if he thought being gay was bad or not but I remember somewhere that they(trio) were talking about sexuality and muggle saw it as bad and something like this

5. fic where draco referred to the death eaters as "his fathers strange guests" and refused to acknowledge voldy. He mentioned them as having questionable fashion tastes and strange tattoos lol. And everytime harry tried to talk to him about it he would deflect.

FOUND! 6. it was a near direct au of captive prince or perhaps just inspired by so the setting is like foreign fantasy land (do not believe there was magic). it was pretty long, harry was the captured one (for leading a rebellion or such like) and i feel he was often described kinda brutish and draco was described very fair skinned (oppressor cough cough) and etheral perhaps. Definitely was mature or explicit in rating with some detailed sex.

[kanzakurawrites]

Descendants Character List Part Two: VK's

Once again, a lot of characters so I apologize in advance. This is everyone born before the first Descendants movie. Characters who appear in the movies are not mentioned here.

Anastasia Tremaine & The Baker:

Anthony (Canon) - First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Technically, his father is unknown. Protective over his sister, mother, and Dizzy. 16

Liana (OC) - She's prone to getting sick and has trouble breathing, Anastasia believes she has asthma. 14.

Captain Hook:

Harriet (Canon) - Mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Took the mother role for her siblings and is perpetually tired. 19

Calista Jane "CJ" (Canon) - First seen in Wicked World. A wild card and a pirate at heart. 14.

Claude Frollo:

Cedric Frollo (OC) - Would risk his life for his sister. 19

Claudine Frollo (Canon) - Mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. 17

Clayton:

Warren (OC) - 19

Caleb (OC) - 19. No, he is not twins with Warren.

Wyatt (OC) - 18

Clay (Canon) - 17. First mentioned in the books. Does not get along with his brothers.

Dr. Facilier:

"Freddie" Francesca (Canon) - First seen in Wicked World. I gave her the full name Francesca. 16

Drizella Tremaine:

All OC's excluding Desiree, though it is canon that there are Evil Step-Granddaughters

Delaney - Has no idea who her father is, and is apart of Cedric's crew. 19

Danielle - 17

Devyn - She joined Uma's crew to escape her grandmother. 15.

Desiree - Canonically on Uma's pirate crew. I just gave her parents. Her father is Gaston. 14

Darcy - Was the twin to Diana. She passed away when she was 8 after an illness passed over the Isle.

Diana - Was the younger twin to Darcy, once she realized she was older than her sister. 13

Delilah - 13. Was born a few weeks before Darcy and Diana's first birthday.

Gaston:

Probably had many children running around the Isle. Girls who he hasn't claimed.

Gloria (OC) - Gaston only claimed her as she's one of the oldest children on the Isle. Laurette's daughter. Gloria helped to raise Gil. 19

Gaston Jr. (Canon) - First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Older twin to Gaston the Third. Mother is Claudette. 17

Gaston the Third (Canon) - First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Younger twin to Gaston Jr. Mother is Claudette. 17

Galina (OC) - Another daughter of an Isle woman, but this woman didn't try to get Gaston to claim Galina, and he never did. None of her siblings know of her existence. 15

Ginger (OC) - Her mother is an Isle woman who hoped that giving her a 'G' name would make Gaston claim her. This did not happen, but Giana and Gil found her and have tried to help her survive. 14

Giana (OC) - One of the few who Gaston has claimed, only so she can work in the house. Daughter of Laurette. 14.

Geneva (OC) - Claudette's daughter. She convinced Gaston to claim her. 7

Gabrielle (OC) - Daughter of Paulette. She was born deaf. Gloria took over caring for her after Paulette decided she no longer wanted to care for her. Gil is close with her. 4

Governor Ratcliffe:

James (OC) - 19

"Rick" Richard (Canon) - Mentioned in the books, I gave him the full name Richard. 18

Andrew (OC) - 13

Hades & Persephone:

"Hadie" Hayden (Canon) - Mentioned in Return to the Isle of the Lost. Technically, his canon mother has never been mentioned. 23

Morgana:

(All oc's)

Marina - 19. Her mother resents her, as Marina was her first-born yet looks nothing like her. Marina has two children herself, Saga (F, 3) and Zale (M, 1), and doesn't live with her mother. Instead, she, and Morten moved to the pirate village, with Mar eventually joining them.

Morten - 18. Also doesn't have a good relationship with his mother, but has a stronger call to the sea than he lets on. Has a child, Fisher (M, 1 month).

Morgan - 17. Looks the most like Morgana, all the way to having a greenish hue to her skin and white hair with pale pink. But her mother has put unrealistic pressure on her, and she wants to be free.

Mar - 16. Has a little girl named Neri (9 months)

Maxwell - 14

Marie - 13. Her mother tends to pass the younger four off to her to take care of.

Marnie - 12. She and Marie are nine months apart, and she helps Marie with the younger kids.

Murray - 11

Marko - 11

Marley - 9

Monika - 7

Makael - 4

Muireann - 3

Murchadh - 1

Meltem - 2 months

Mother Gothel:

Ginny Gothel (Canon) - Mentioned in the Isle of the Lost books. Friends with Diego de Vil. Might not actually be Mother Gothel's child. 15

Queen & King of Hearts:

Jacks (OC) - 18.

Scarlett (OC) - I suggest you run. 16

Spade (OC) - 14

Smee:

Sammy Smee (Canon) - Mentioned in the books. 18

The Stabbingtons:

Name: Sideburns and Patchy. All kids are OC's

Sean - Son of Sideburns. 18

Sadie - Daughter of Patchy. 18

Saul - Son of Patchy. 17

Sarah - Daughter of Sideburns. 17

Simon - Son of Sideburns. 15.

Yzma:

Zevon (Canon) - Seen in Wicked World. 17

Yzla (Canon) - Mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. 15.

Others:

Ophelia (OC) - The daughter of Monseuior D'Arque. 17

"Shy" Shyrailym - The daughter of Shan Yu. 17

Jonas (Canon) - One of the pirates in Uma's crew. 17

Big Murph (Canon) - Son of a pirate on Captain Hook's crew. 16

Hendrik (OC) - The son of the hunter from Snow White. 16

Diego de Vil (Canon) - First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Cruella's nephew. Friends with Ginny Gothel. 16.

"Hermie" Hermione Bing (Canon) - Mentioned in the books, I gave her the full name Hermione. Her dream is to escape her father's circus. 16.

Mad Maddy (Canon) - First mentioned in Return to the Isle of the Lost. Madam Mim's granddaughter. 16.

Bonny (Canon) - A pirate in Uma's crew. 15

Gonzo (Canon) - A pirate in Uma's crew. 15

Jade (Canon) - Mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. Daughter of Nasira, and is Jafar's niece. 15

Le Fou Deux (Canon) - Son of Le Fou and mentioned in the books. 15.

Eddie (Canon) - Son of Edgar, mentioned in the books. 14

Raina (OC) - Daughter of Rasputin. She does not have magic like her father, and is friends with Claudine. 14.

Reza (Canon) - First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. He's the son of the former royal astronomer of Agrabah and Carlos' rival. 13

"Harry" Harold (Canon) - Son of Horace, one of Carlos' minions. First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. 13

"Jase" Jason (Canon) - Son of Jasper, one of Carlos' minions. First mentioned in The Isle of the Lost. 13

Mable (OC) - One of Mad Maddy's sisters. 13

Arya (OC) - Daughter of the Hunter from Snow White, and Hendrik's little sister. 11

Hopefully this wasn't too chaotic, but this is also definitely not everyone on the Isle. If you have questions about any of the kids, feel free to ask! And if you have a suggestion for a villain with kids, I'd love to hear it.