#raphael is an old lover she wants to know again

[wickedwitchofthewilds]

W-what if I gave Rhea just one more lover??

[katanablue]

Hey there. I absurdly love your blog and your writing style, it’s amazing. I wanted to ask I I could perhaps request a Raphael x reader where it’s kind of an enemies to lovers. Reader and Raphael don’t get along at first because of their similar personalities but after a while they realize that they overplayed their feelings for each other with hate.

I’m not sure if this made any sense at all ;-;

ABSOLUTELY MADE SENSE ANON!!!!

You didn’t request a spef Raph, so I’m going with 07 I hope that’s okay ❤️

Stupid idiot.

Annoying prick.

Hotheaded jerk.

You had a few more insults for the red clad turtle but you’re sure if you kept thinking about it, you’d accidentally say them out loud.

Not that it would matter, it’s not like your distaste for him was a secret. Just like his wasn’t hidden from you.

It’s like two bulls in a China shop whenever you two are together, always butting heads and arguing opinions over the simplest things that can be easily discussed over a cup of tea. But not you two, you two would rather point fingers and get into petty arguments like 5 year olds.

You’re not sure what exactly caused you dislike Raphael, but you’re more than certain that it was him who started it. Probably countered an opinion you had about something so minuscule that you honestly would have let it go if it weren’t for the smug and cocky attitude he was displaying.

Thus, your rivalry with the turtle started.

Raph feels the exact same way about you; complaining that your temper is too short, you can’t take or follow direction and all he gets are snorts and fake shock from his brothers and Splinter.

“Really?”

“You don’t say?”

“That is so funny that you feel that way.”

And all Raphael can do is scoff and roll his eyes because he’s not stupid, he knows you’re similar to him. Maybe that’s why you clash, because he’s never had someone to combat his bonehead personality besides Leo and Casey but even then he was used to it, he’s known them forever.

Now you, having just met you a few months ago because April insisted that you, her friend, and he would get along splendidly.

Clearly she was wrong.

Currently you were over for a game night, sitting in between Don and Mikey while he and Leo sat across. April and Casey temporarily stepped out to grab food for everyone, leaving you with the mutant turtles. But you were having a wonderful time; good games, good vibes, good company…

Almost.

You roll your eyes when you catch Raph scoffing to himself after your turn, crossing his arms and grumbling to himself.

“Problem, Raph?” You ask, painting an innocent vibe as you lean back in your seat to glare at him. He looks at you with a bored expression, shrugging and then gesturing towards the game board with his chin.

“Dumb move, should’ve gone left instead of right.”

You can see from your peripheral how Don shakes his head and how Mikey tenses in the slightest. Leo rubs at his forehead, knowing what was coming.

“Yeah that’s why you got sent back to the start of the board right?”

“Maybe so, but I’m winning with the most money.”

“Doesn’t matter numb nuts, now you have to go past the scammer and pay the debt—“

“Oh I got more than enough, sweetheart—“

“Okay you know what—“

“Enough!” Leo shouts, standing up and looking back and forth between the two of you. “You two, get out. You’re banned from the rest of the game.”

Your mouth drops open in shock and Raph and scoffs again but harder, slapping his palms on his lap.

“She started it!”

“You should’ve just shut the fuck up!”

“Out!” He says again, pointing his finger towards the entrance of the Lair.

You suck your teeth and stand up, walking past Don in sheer annoyance. Raphael isn’t far behind you, muttering under his breath and kicking at Mikey’s skateboard which earns him an irritated ‘hey!’.

You step outside the Lair, wishing you could slam the door in Raph’s face but the entrance unfortunately didn’t work like that. With a heavy sigh you lean against the wall, digging into your pocket to grab your phone only to realize you left it inside. You suck your teeth, ready to head back in when Raph suddenly tosses you something. You catch it, clutching it close to your chest and when you look down you realize it’s your phone.

“…Thanks.”

He only grunts in response, leaning on the opposite wall and crossing his arms over his plastron. You look down at your phone to check the time and any notifications, about to just waste time on social media before deciding otherwise. You shove it into your pocket, pursing your lips a bit and look at Raph.

“…So you think I should’ve gone left?” You mumble, feeling oddly anxious to see if he’d respond.

He raises an eye ridge at you, an insult ready on his tongue before he drops it and decides it’s not worth it, especially considering you two just got kicked out of game night.

“Woulda been better. Cuz now you gotta go the long way to get to the end.”

“Yeah but this route has better chances of getting a treasure chest.” You try to keep your voice calm, surprised at how… quiet, your conversation was so far.

He shrugs and straightens his posture a bit. “Jus’ tryin to help.”

You can’t help but laugh, bewildered that he just say that.

“By calling it a dumb move?” You huff and roll your eyes, feeling that faint flicker of anger start in your chest.

“Well. It was.” He retorts but there’s no hint of hatred whatsoever.

There’s a silence between the two of you now, Raph avoiding your gaze but you looking at him straight on.

“You know, you’re somewhat pleasant to talk to when you aren’t being a dick.”

Now he laughs, shaking his head a bit and finally making eye contact with you.

“Yeah well, you ain’t so half bad when you’re not being crazy.”

“I am not—“ You catch yourself, taking a moment to breathe in. “I am not crazy. You bring out my crazy.”

“Only because you bring out mine!”

You bite your tongue, trying really hard to not fight because it’ll always end in the same way; the both of you repeating yourselves, throwing insults, and then ruining everyone else’s good time. Well, that last part seemed to have already happened.

“You don’t hate me as much as you make it out to be, right?” You couldn’t help but ask, seizing the opportunity to test if there was something more that just this supposed hatred.

He sighs heavily, reaching to scratch the back of his neck and awkwardly shift around. He sucks his teeth and lets out a huff before finally answering you.

“Nah, I don’t. Jus’ hate that there’s someone who’s too much like me.”

You squint at him, a confused smile crossing your lips.

“You mean hotheaded, short tempered, argumentative—“

He waves you off with an exasperated groan but nods.

“Now I see why my brothers are always gettin’ pissed at me.” He chuckles quietly.

You smile, finding his laughter a bit endearing and with the way it warms your chest, you know you want to hear it more. Especially if you can be the one to cause it.

Another silence follows. Raph fidgets with one of his arm bands as a sort of distraction.

“Hope that means you don’t actually hate me that much either…” He murmurs under his breath.

“Well, you get on my nerves and sometimes I wanna pop your head off but, no, I don’t actually hate you…that much.”

He smirks at you and extends his hand out.

“Start over?”

You smile back and clasp his hand, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Start over.”

[thedragonagelesbian]

durge!cyrus/wyll for holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them 🥺

oowoo kiss prompts

holding your lover by the jaw to kiss them

Avernus rings quiet. The hummed wailing of the Soul Pillars has died away, as have the last flames burn-burst from Raphael's gallery of sinners, but Wyll does not relax into the silence. Maybe it's the fleck of ash that has wedged itself underneath his stone eye, or the fact that the good one kept seeing himself in the rags left behind, but he's itchy all over. An old, inevitable self scratching up against the new, impossible one.

His companions, clustered around Raphael's smoldering corpse, seem no more at ease. All eyes drift to Cyrus as the bhaalspawn drifts away, head down, steel-bladed wings wrapped tight around his body.

"Soooo," Astarion strings the word out long enough to sheathe his shortswords, as if the exaggerated syllable will hide the tremor in his hands, "are we going to talk about the five-armed monstrosity in the room, or...?"

Cyrus flinches. The edge of one of the blades catches against his arm, but he doesn't seem to notice. Already too bloodied or too guilty--or both, blood like holy oil to anoint the guilt--to care.

It still echoes in Wyll's ears. At the very beginning of the battle, eyes, lungs, heart, stomach, all full of cinders and smoke and a cambion's brutal fury, he heard Cyrus screaming his name.

Heard the snap of Cyrus' spine as his body undid itself.

"That was duk-tak." Wyll has never known Minthara to speak with warmth, but she does so now, a scorching kind of pride in her voice and a smile on her lips as she regards Cyrus. "The unholy executioner, among the most exquisite of Bhaal's blessings: the dread aspect of the Slayer."

"I didn't realize we were accepting grotesque gifts from our fathers these days." Astarion, still laying the levity on so thick it becomes concentrated, concerned. "However did that happen?"

"I didn't want it!"

Wyll moves now, pulled by Cyrus' voice reverberating along his heartstrings. Foolish, perhaps, knowing already what blood lust the aasimar harbored, and knowing now how it could break loose in bone spurs and howls, but he steps forward anyway. Even as Cyrus shies away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, hoarse. "I should have-- everyone should have known, I just didn't want... I thought I could control it..."

Carefully, oh so carefully, Wyll reaches through the shroud of serrated metal to touch Cyrus' face. Fingers hooked under his jaw, thumb on his cheek, wiping away some of the blood and tears. Though Cyrus will not look at him, there is no resistance to his touch. Just a tired sigh, sinking into his palm.

"I failed Isobel and Father both when Marcus kidnapped her from Last Light, but in killing Ketheric, I killed her too, and so he... rewarded me. Forced it upon me, made my body match my wickedness." Cyrus shakes his head. "I was out of my mind the first time, terrified that I would never find my way back to myself. By the grace of the gods, Halsin found me before I could hurt anyone. He calmed me down enough to transform back, and I thought... hoped, prayed, that so long as I was never that scared again, the Slayer wouldn't come back."

"What happened this time?"

Cyrus blinks. "You, Wyll. You. When I saw you almost go down, I..." Head still bent low, he touches Wyll's chest, peeling away the charred cloth of his robe to graze the burn scar beneath, still raw-magic-tender, the quick battle healing that turns wounds into bruises. "I would have seen my claws run red with the blood of each and every devil in Avernus to keep you safe."

Now it is Wyll's turn to blink, heart thundering underneath Cyrus' fingers. "You manifested an aspect of the Lord of Murder to protect me?"

"It's wretched, I know."

"It's wonderful." Wyll covers Cyrus' hand with his own and squeezes. "You took your father's curse, and despite its every foul instinct, you turned it to your own purpose. You made the Slayer serve you, as my pact once served me."

Cyrus glances away. "You should want to kill a monster like the Slayer, not turn it over looking for something better."

"I need not look any further than the kindness in your eyes."

His other hand still on Cyrus' jaw, he lifts the other man's head. Cyrus stares up at him with his mouth parted, that same constant, wordless objection that's been hanging from his lips since he first tried to kill Wyll in the Shadowlands. Wyll isn't sure if he'll ever be able to erase it completely, but he's gotten very good at swallowing it. At touching their mouths together, washing it across his tongue and down his throat as Cyrus melts against him.

They both taste like soot and blood and heat, Cyrus' mouth ever ravenous and burning at a fever-pitch like the rest of his divine body. Like every campfire Wyll ever had to light alone in the wilderness, shivering in his exile.

The hearth of a home he hadn't known in years.

When he opens his eyes again, Cyrus' wings are gone, folded back into harmless ether, the tell-tale sign of something approximating peace for the aasimar.

Rationally, Wyll knows that Cyrus could still hurt him. Without the wings, without the Slayer, with just the hunger singing in his blood. But when Cyrus flings his arms around him and hugs him tight, Wyll trusts that he won't.

"Thank you."

[sadakorosee]

Bayverse! Leonardo x fem!reader: How does this work (Oneshot)

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Short fic

Summary: Leo... doesn’t know how to use modern laptops.

A/N: This is my first time writing on Tumblr. I was a Wattpad writer but rn I’m talking a break from it. Hope yall enjoy!

Leonardo was never a tech lover.

How many times did he get gobsmacked by Donnie’s new technology and getting his ass kicked by the purple clad turtle’s robot few times. Whenever Donnie explain things off from his screen, Leo’s eyes narrowed from how bright it was. 

“I’m going to go blind no thanks to your screen, Don.”

But when y/n and Leo began dating, Leo wanted to learn and catch up with the new trends just so he doesn’t felt like an old-schooler with y/n. He and y/n are both 20 years old so he thinks it’s finally time to adapt to the modern world. 

One day, y/n brought her laptop + speaker with her so she can open any movies from the website she saved. There was a movie Leo wanted to watch but had no access to it, again, thanks to modern technology. 

“What movie genres are you into right now?” y/n settled down her laptop and faced Leo.

“Adventure, Life lesson sort of thing. Anything you picked.” Leo kissed her forehead before flashing a small smile. 

“Hmm, you like superhero stuff I bet. Why not you search for one and I’ll heat up our dinner.” y/n packed Chinese food for everyone and went to the kitchen to heat it up.

Leo levelling himself to y/n’s laptop and stared at the screen blankly.

Crap. Where do I press search? Wait, how do I do this?

y/n’s laptop was as slim and light like a Macbook’s so he didn’t know how to operate it without damaging its keyboard. y/n came back to ask him something when she noticed how much Leo was struggling.

She giggled when he doesn’t even know where the cursor is!

The giggles turned into a loud laughter echoing the lair catching the attention of his 3 brothers.

Yeah.. they’re never gonna live it down. Especially Raphael.

🐢🐢🐢

Was that good??? I hope everybody liked it. <3 

TMNT Masterlist

[unreadpoppy]

song as old as rhyme - chapter 14

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 13

Read on AO3

A/N: i hope the dress description made sense because i'm terrible at describing clothes even if i'm looking at a photo reference.

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

@desenhosdebolso

@shyminnie07

@lemonandhoneytea

“This is not going to work.” Elize sighed, letting go of Haarlep, after stepping on their toe for the umpteenth time. She quietly apologized to him, again.

“Oh dear.” They said, sitting down to rub their aching feet. “In other times, I’d say not to lose hope, but this is indeed a dire case.”

“I’m going to embarrass myself.” Elize groaned and laid on the ground, looking up. For two weeks, she had been getting Haarlep’s help, but it was going nowhere. The ball would happen later tonight and, at least in the dance department, she felt she made no progress.

While she stared at the ceiling, she kept wondering: why did she care so much about this?

In the past, she would have avoided Raphael to hell and back, and now she kept looking forward to talking with him. Every time they had dinner together, she ended up learning more about him, discovering he was not all that she had previously thought.

Raphael intrigued her. And she didn’t want to embarrass him or herself in front of others, but in her head, Elize kept thinking of multiple scenarios where everything went wrong. The urge to bite her nails was getting stronger but she resisted.

She came back to reality when Haarlep said “Don’t worry about that. If you keep thinking about what you’ll do wrong, you won’t get to enjoy anything. I mean, Raphael is -”

“If you’re going to finish that sentence by saying he’s awful in bed, I already know it.” Elize cut the incubus off. She did not need another reminder from Haarlep about how their master was a selfish lover.

“Rude.” Haarlep said.

Before Elize could reply, the sound of a portal opening made her sit up and see Raphael walk in. She sighed and once again, laid on the floor.

He raised an eyebrow at the scene. “What in the hells is going on?”

“Elize is stressed because-”

“I can’t do it!” She shouted, suddenly. “I stepped on Haarlep’s feet like ten thousand times by now, my arse is hurting from the two falls I took, this is going to be a disaster.” She sat and looked up at Raphael.

The cambion analyzed the scene for a moment and then let out a laugh. Elize looked at him quizzically.

“If you are having so much trouble, dear.” He walked towards her and offered his hands, helping her stand up. “Maybe I can help.”

Raphael took one of her hands, while she put her free hand on his shoulder. He then placed his other hand on her waist and pulled her close.

Elize blushed and tried to look down but he said “Ah ah. Eyes up.” He started moving them, two steps forwards, two steps back and so on and on. “If you look at your feet, you’ll only get lost.”

Raphael’s gaze was intense and she felt as if he was looking beyond her flesh and seeing all her insecurities. She tried looking at the other people in the room, Haarlep and Mol, but that only made her more nervous.

Almost on cue, he leaned closer and said. “You’re doing good but you need to relax.”

“I just…I’m feeling very vulnerable.” She sighed.

Raphael nodded and stopped, turning towards the others.. “Haarlep, Mol, give us some privacy.” He demanded. Mol tried to protest but Haarlep pulled her along. He snapped his fingers, and music could be heard.

“Let’s try this again.” He approached her again, and bowed slightly, one hand behind his back while the other was offered to her. Elize took a deep breath and placed her hand in his.

“Do not worry about others. All you have to do is follow my lead and enjoy yourself” He said and then they began dancing. This time, Elize focused on the music, allowing it to wash over her. They eventually got to a rhythm so calming that it made her close her eyes momentarily.

When she opened them again, he was smiling at her. “Good.” He whispered and she smiled back.

Eventually, the song came to an end and with it, Raphael dipped Elize, which surprised her. She held onto him, and Raphael forced himself to just look at her face and not downwards.

He pulled her back up, still holding her hands. “I believe you’ll do just fine.” He said, leaning closer. “I left your garment in your room. Go ask Korilla to help you.” Raphael let go of her and then snapped away.

Biting her lip, she quickly walked to her room.

…

The dress was gorgeous.

It was mainly a dark blue color, with golden and red accents,and embroidery. It was long sleeved and the shoulders were slightly puffy. To finish it off, it had a sweetheart neckline, which, Elize quickly noticed when she put it on, accentuated her breasts.

Along with it, there were a pair of earrings, a necklace, shoes and a hairpin.

Korilla had also helped her do her hair, and when it was done, she nodded and said. “You look good. The master will like it.”

Elize blushed. “Thank you.”

There was a knock on the door and Korilla opened it,, revealing Raphael from the other side. The warlock asked her master to leave and she did so, leaving the two alone in Elize’s room. She smiled at him, noticing the way his breath hitched. She also realized that he was wearing the same colors as she.

“I believe everything is to your satisfaction?” He asked.

“It is.” She gave him a small turn. “You have good taste.”

“That I do.” He smirked.

Elize grabbed something from the vanity, her glasses, and walked up to him. “Although, I don’t think these exactly match with the rest.” She finished it by putting them on.

Raphael snapped his fingers. “Look in the mirror.” When Elize did so, she noticed that her sight was the same but she couldn’t see her glasses.

“Did you make them invisible?”

“Clever girl.” He smirked, and then offered his arm. “Now, let us go. I do not like tardiness.”

She grabbed his arm and he snapped both of them away.

[clanofjones]

Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter Eleven

Ao3

<- Previous

Next ->

Chapter Eleven: Two's a Company, Three is a Crime

TW: Homophobic language and semi-graphic descriptions of murder.

A/N: Co-written with @theosb0rnway :)

Casey Jones never took the day off, that was a fact set deep in stone. If evil never slept, then neither did she, but this was different. 

He needed a day to process the idea that his boyfriend was not just a corpse in an icy coffin, but a being, a SPIRIT, that only Casey could see. He slept mostly, residing on top of the ice box while Raph watched her from afar, hesitant to make a move and not wanting to scare or piss off his lover. He didn't want to be double dead. 

The next day was far more productive, and Casey seemed to be in a much better mood after his almost day-long rest. The duo sat at the little coffee table in the middle of the room, Casey writing down ideas for his next moves against Shredder while Raph played with his ghostly sais. 

Who knew that whatever you had on your person also went with you to the next life? Raph didn't know much, or used to care much, about death, thinking he was some invincible force that even when battling Oroku Saki as Super Shredder could not be defeated, but now, here he was, thoroughly defeated. 

He was dead, and he was spiritually attached to the prettiest lunatic on planet Earth whose only current goal was to kill Super Shredder, not something normal like taking a shower or eating a meal that wasn't packaged. It was an issue, sure, but then again, to Hamato Raphael, Casey Jones was the definition of putting the 'hot' in psychotic. 

Said hot lunatic was actually being productive, scribbling some ideas down that Raphael surprisingly approved of. 

Ways to get that bastard's attention: 

Don't? Nah, that's no fun 

Bomb the old mansion 

Karai? 

Take down Tiger Face 

Fish Face 

Wolf Dude 

Beat the shit outta Hun! 

There was a giant scribbled star by the last one, making it officially Casey's favorite choice, despite it loosely having to deal with Shredder. Off to the side, there were little drawings of Casey using various weapons to kill Shredder and his Foot goons, which Raphael tried to ignore as best he could. Then something else popped into the scheming vigilante's mind, a way to get not only Shredder's attention, but the entire city's. A way to make himself truly known. It was a... different idea, but Casey knew she had to throw it out there. For all he knew, Raph might actually like it. 

"Hey, Raphie?" 

"Yeah, babe?"

"...What 'bout goin' after a cop?"

"A cop?" Raph didn't seem angry, which was a good sign. 

"Yeah! Get us actual attention from all the cameras and reporters and shit cause killin' the Foot ain't doin' nothin'." 

"Wait, you wanna... kill a cop?" Casey looked at Raph like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. 

"Duh! Hurting one won't do anything!" 

"Casey, I agree that it'll get us the attention we need, but if we do that, it's gonna get us attention from EVERYWHERE. We're gonna have to be way more careful about what we do and how we're see- how you're seen." 

"So you're... not mad?" Is that really what Casey was focused on right now? 

"'Course I'm not mad, Case! Cops are assholes-" 

"Damn right!" 

"But we also gotta focus on keeping you safe. I know you can pull off the job, but the hardest part is making sure whatever they send after you doesn't find you." 

"I can handle it, Raphie. I hate you always rainin' on my parade, sayin' I can't do things like you can. Not like this is my first time dealing with pigs." 

"I'm not 'raining on your parade', babe, I'm just scared you can't do this by yourself." 

"Casey Jones wo-" 

"I know, I know! 'Casey Jones works better alone', but you can't work at all if you're caught, or worse, killed!" Casey sighed, but from behind her mask, he looked like he was in thought, chewing at her bottom lip. 

"Alright, I'll listen to you, just this once. So whaddya think I should do after I off the guy? Or lady? Or... what's a word for not a dude or a girl?" 

Raph did a facepalm. "It's just a cop, Case, Jesus Christ." 

"Yeah, you're right. But what should I do after I off the pig?" 

"Lay low. Before you do it, we should go out one last time for food and supplies, stuff that'll last us at least a month or so."

"A month? Hope they got those dumb little number puzzles at the store cause I'm gonna need 'em." 

"Sudokus, and yeah. Ya know ya' got me too, babe." 

"I know, but now that I can't pin ya down, I've gotta find other ways to keep busy." 

Raph swore he could hear Casey smirk and blushed a little, not that he could tell.

"I'm gonna need paint too, and I might... I'm gonna try to stop by my place, get clothes, money stash, firepower, all that." 

"Alright." 

"Raph?" 

"Yeah?" 

"...C-Can I let her see me? She's good at keepin' secrets, she doesn't know 'bout what we do, there's no way they could tie me to her if we're careful-" 

"Yeah. Tell her Mr. Turtle says he loves her, okay?" "Course, baby. I know she loves you too, a lot. Oh god, she has no idea that you-" 

Raph put a hand on Casey's shoulder and grimaced at her natural flinch. "Sorry. Look, don't tell her, it'll break her little heart and nobody wants that." 

"I wasn't going to, I'm not gonna hurt my baby sis like that, she's everything I've got left! A-and I left her all alone with Arnold... oh FUCK ME!" Casey slammed her fist down on the table and Raph could hear her crying underneath the mask. 

"It'll be okay, Case, I promise." 

"Will it though?" 

"If we get it done right, yeah. It'll be fuckin awesome." 

"You promise?" 

"I promise, dumbass." 

"Thanks, Raphie boy." 

"No problem, Casey baby." Raph put his arms around Casey, and even though she couldn't exactly do the same, he still tried his best. Casey broke the "hug" standing up slowly and stretching herself out. 

"Ugh! That fuckin table's so low, it's more of a pain in my back than Donnie!" Raph snorted, standing up through the table. 

"So where to, master planner? 

"First thing's first!" She smiled through the mask, "I need the rest my gear." It seems Raph had more experience breaking into Casey's house than she did, knowing how to climb onto the ledge and unlock the window so they could slip inside. Casey's room hadn't changed one bit, if you don't count the smell being fifty times worse. Given that it was 1 am, Arnold was fast asleep on the couch, and poor Angel was in the room right next to Casey's, no doubt breathing in that godawful smell and wondering when her brother would come back. 

Casey opened the door to the living room, sneaking quietly past Arnold and into Angel's room. He closed the door behind her, softly speed walking over to her little sister's bed. "Angel?" He ran a gloved hand through her hair and watched as the young girl opened her eyes. She seemed scared, and Casey realized it was because of the mask. "It's me, Ange, it's me!" He flipped the mask up to show off his real face for the first time in months. No paint, no skulls, no nothing, just Casey Jones. 

"CA'EY!" Angel whisper-screamed, getting up and jumping into her brother's arms for a hug. 

"Shhh! Gotta be quiet, lil sis! Don't want Dad to hear me, kay?" The girl nodded, a huge grin still stuck on her face. 

"I miss you, Ca'ey! Miss you lot!" 

"Me too, Angel, me too." He started to cry, Angel's grin dropping as she heard her sister start to sob. 

"Why you cryin', Ca'ey? Don' be sad!" 

"I'm not sad, I'm happy! I'm cryin' cause I love you, kiddo. I'm so sorry I left you here, I didn't want to, I didn't mean to, you don't deserve this!" 

They stayed like that for another few minutes, hugging while Casey cried, before Angel asked, "Where you go, big bro? Can I come too?" 

Casey shook his head. "No way. Casey had to go somewhere far away to keep you safe, and I gotta go back again until I'm done with my job." 

"Wha' job, Ca'ey?" 

"Somebody hurt me really bad and so I'm gonna hurt them really bad too. Remember how I taught you that? If somebody hurts you-" 

"You hurt ‘em too!" 

"Exactly! That's exactly right, baby sis!" 

Angel giggled, smiling up at her big sister. "When you gonna come back?" 

"Soon, Angie, soon. I promise. I'll be back as soon as I can be and then I'll never leave again! I pinky swear!" 

"You pinky swear?"

"Always." They locked pinkies and bumped foreheads, making Casey's promise something he could no longer break, not that she ever intended to break it. 

"Ca'ey? Where's Mista Turtle?" Casey's breath hitched and he quickly looked behind him to see Raph standing there, silently staring at him and nodding. 

"He's... he's back at my safe place, he's doin' alright. Want me to say hi to him for ya?" 

"Yeah! Mista Turtle gonna come back too, Ca'ey?" 

"Of course he is! We're both gonna come back as soon as we can!" He hated lying to Angel about that, but it was the best he could do for now. He couldn't bear to ever tell her the truth, it was too much. 

"He told me to tell you that he loves you VERY much and that he misses your stupid tea parties." 

"They're not stupid!" 

"Hey, tell that to him, not me! I love 'em!" 

"Yay! And I love YOU Ca'ey!" 

"Me too, lil sis." He paused. "Hey, Angel? You gotta promise me something now, alright?" 

"What is it, Ca'ey?" She bounced up and down on her bed with excitement. 

"If you see me on the TV, or hear about me from the bad people in blue, you CAN NOT tell them anything about me, okay baby sis?" 

Angel nodded seriously. "Ca'ey in trouble?" 

"Big BIG trouble." 

"Uh oh! I keep Ca'ey safe from evil people! I help you, big bro!" 

Casey smiled, a fresh wave of tears dripping down his face. "Thank you SO much, Angel, I love you, okay baby?" 

"I love you too Ca'ey! So SO SO SO MUCH!" 

"You go back to sleep now, okay?" 

"Okay... Are you gonna sleep too, Ca'ey?"

"In a little bit, yeah. I gotta do a few things first, but then I'm gonna go back and get some sleep with Mr. Turtle!" 

"Yay! Casey look sleepy, Casey need sleep!" 

"I will, Ange, I will. Can you go back to sleep okay or you need me here for a bit?" 

"Can Ca'ey stay?" 

"Of course. I'll always stay for you, Angel Jones." He sat down next to the bed as Angel tucked herself into the covers. 

"Love you, Ca'ey..." 

"Love you too, Angel." It took Angel about three minutes to fall asleep with Casey rubbing her back. The vigilante stood up, slipped his mask back on, and walked back into his own room, Raph following quickly behind her. 

"Ya gonna get some sleep now, Case?" 

"No. Gotta do a few more things." 

"You heard Angel-" 

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." 

He grabbed a giant plastic bag from the corner of the room and started cleaning everything out. All the rotting food was thrown out the window, the clothes and weapons stuffed into a bag, posters yanked off the walls and shoved in as well. By the time the bag was full, the room looked like it had barely been occupied. 

"Let's go, Raphie. We got what we came for." 

"Whatever you say, Case." 

The duo made their separate jumps out the window and fled into the night. Now all they needed was just to get the rest of the supplies for the murder. Ah, Walmart. 

The place where you can go at 2 am and nobody, nobody, notices you, no matter how out of the ordinary you look. At least, the security doesn't notice. If Casey got a few odd looks from some equally creepy old ladies, she sure didn't give a flying fuck about it. 

As she picked out the biggest package of Sour Patch Kids he could find and put it in her basket, he noticed a little girl staring at him from behind her father's leg at the other end of the aisle. 

He wondered why the hell a little girl was in Walmart at 2 am, but once again, it was none of his business. He smiled and gave her a little wave, watching her gasp and wave back. 

"Casey, you don't need that." 

"Bite me, Raphie." He muttered under her breath. He walked past the little girl and gave her a wink from under the mask, smiling as she heard her talking to her very disinterested father. 

"Daddy! Daddy! The boy with the cool mask waved at me!"

 "Uh huh. Whatever you say, sweetie." 

Casey loved being herself. As she suspected, even with her blood covered clothes and dirtied skull mask, the dead eyed cashier didn't even seem to notice him. He'd just bought all the supplies for a molotov cocktail, homemade grenades, war paint, and some candy just for funsies and nobody cared!

Raph was right, stocking up on things before his next hit was totally paying off! Raph had been muttering to himself the whole time, Casey tuning him out as best she could. His negative attitude was totally burning a hole in his bad girl persona! 

He forked over some of the money she stole from the Foot goons to the cashier, who gave him a dead-eyed stare and accepted the bills. Casey doubted she would have spared a second glance if Raph, in all his ghostiness, had been visible to others, not only a mutant turtle, but also a semi-transparent ghost. Then again, the lady did work in customer service at Walmart in New York, she figured not much would surprise this lady. 

“Have a nice day– NIGHT! I meant night,” the cashier said, automatically course-correcting, eyes widening briefly as she blinked from the daze that must come with working such a long shift. 

“You too,” Casey said as she accepted some bags and exited. A soft ‘whoosh’ of air hit his face as she stepped out of the sliding glass doors with as much vindication as one could when one stepped over a door threshold. Idly, he realized he should probably get her hands on a car. Or at least figure out some mode of transportation other than his own gear. 

Shifting the bags into one hand as she walked into an alley, with Raph bobbing around her head, Casey fired his grappling hook. 

It caught in a more stable part of the ladder, in contrast to the part of the ladder close to the ground, which was mangled and bent all out of shape.

Casey kept to the edge, so that he ascended in a vertical climb to her stomping grounds. She had to fire her grappling hook twice, the second time impaling deep the ceiling of the small room he and Raph resided in, only ascending again after three light tugs confirmed that the brick wasn’t about to cave, and send Casey to an early grave. 

Any time before Oroku Saki’s grave was far too soon, she decided, spreading his newly bought wares on the floor. Investing in an actual table (or at least not a floor that was both freezing and almost definitely infested with any number of roaches and other bugs to make Raph die twice) wouldn’t be a bad idea either. 

She dumped the bags down on the ground, grabbing the bag he'd taken from his home and setting it down next to the first one and sitting down on the ground next to the coffee table. 

"C’mon Raphie! Don't be a stranger!" The turtle was hanging out towards the window, away from the short excuse for a table, slightly pissed that Casey had lied to Angel's face about getting a good night sleep. 

He begrudgingly walked over, not wanting to deny his lover, almost there when his foot fell through the floor. He thought he'd fixed this already! The angry terrapin could hear Casey's cackle as he pulled his foot from the floor, a growl leaving his throat. 

"Oh shut up." Casey stopped laughing for once, her face morphing into one of concern. 

"You okay, Raph?" Uh oh. Not Raphie, just Raph. That meant he was serious, and serious Casey Jones could sometimes be a scarier creature than the angry, insane, or even pissed sides of Casey Jones. 

"I'm fine, Case." 

"Raph. I know you're lyin', knucklehead. What's going on?" 

"Why'd you lie to Angel about sleeping?" 

"I didn't!" 

"Yeah, ya' clearly did!" 

"No way, man! As soon as I kill a cop, I'm coming back here and we can sleep on the ice box together! The two of us! It's really comfy once ya get adjusted to it!" Raph shook his head. 

At least Casey was serious about going to bed, that was a start. She still had a long way to go in terms of mental health, and if he was finally trying to get better, Raph wasn’t about to say no, even if it was sleeping on that godforsaken freezer box that his own fucking corpse was being kept in. 

"Alright. I'll sleep on the fuckin’ death box." Casey glared. 

"Don't call it that, asshole!" 

"Hey, my body box, my choice." Casey looked confused for a moment before shrugging. 

"I don't think the saying goes like that, but whatever, dude." Her face softened. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Raphie. I didn't mean it, I promise."

"It's alright, Casey, I get it. You like it cause it's me in there, and you have your own way of coping. I should respect that. I DO respect it." 

"Thanks. That um... means a lot, babe." Raph could see a hint of an actual, genuinely sweet Casey Jones smile, taking the moment to sit down next to him, cup her cheeks, and kiss him softly what would be her lips under the mask. Casey gasped before pressing her lips to the inside of the mask. 

God, did he miss kissing Raph the normal way, pinning him against a wall, making out slowly until both of them were left breathless. She was pulled out of her thoughts as Raph broke the kiss, setting a pair of pants haphazardly on her lap. "Here." He pulled out a Sharpie too, and the older boy was impressed at how well he could hold it. 

"Woah! You weren't kidding when you said you could hold shit, babe! Holy macaroni, you're good!" 

They shared a laugh, Casey getting to work on redecorating the old pair of ratty gray jeans. Recreating his clothing took about an hour and a half, two Sharpies, a pair of scissors, half a braincell shared between them both, and an old burner phone playing Casey's "Battle Songs for Fucking Up Bitches" playlist. 

Putting on the newly acquired corpse paint took them another hour, Casey insisting on putting the white paint on herself first before Raph saw his face. By the end of it, his entire face, ears, neck, and forearms were covered in elaborate designs Raph took his sweet time making and touching up. Casey put on the first pair of redesigned jeans, slipping on a black long sleeved shirt before adding his Insane Clown Posse "Hatchetman" shirt on top of that. 

Her gear followed, then Raph with the bandana, and finally, the turtle lowered the skull mask over his love's face, finally readying her for the best part of the night. 

"You look beautiful, Casey Jones." 

"Thanks, Raphael Tomato." 

"Hamato." 

"Tomato, Hamato!" They let out a giggle before Casey started towards the door, taking the regular way out the building for once. It was time to go out and take down one of the worst threats to society. 

It wasn't hard for her to find a cop car just sitting around on some random street far enough away from the hideout that he wouldn't be chased back. Casey smirked to himself seeing the guy eating a donut through the side window. She pulled out his spray can, shaking it, letting the black paint attach itself to the wall, starting her latest masterpiece. That ugly bastard in his car didn't like that at ALL. 

He made the show of flashing his lights before hurriedly getting out of his car, cuffs in hand. 

"Hey kid! Drop the can and put your hands in the air! You're under arrest for vandalizing private property!" 

Casey continued to spray the paint, humming some random tune as he went. 

"Hey! Kid! Can you hear me? Kid!" 

"Oh, I heard you alright. I just don't listen to people as low in this world as you." He laughed. "I don't listen to assholes as evil as you." 

"Kid, the only one doing evil is you." He walked over to Casey and grabbed him by his freshly painted arm, causing Casey to flinch and whip around, hitting the cop dead in the face with the spray can. 

"Fuck off, grease-hands! My boyfriend just worked for two hours on that shit and I ain't lettin' a no good pig ruin all his hard work!" 

The cop stumbled back, blood falling from his nose and mouth. "Alright, ya little faggot," he pulled out the gun from his holster. "No more Mr. Nice Guy." 

Casey ducked as the shots fired, pulling out her own gun and shooting the cop in the leg. Unlike him, she never missed his targets. The cop screamed, falling to the ground as Casey pulled out his hockey stick. 

"Aw! Looks like Mr. Not So Nice Guy couldn't even beat up a fag like me! So sad!" 

The hockey stick swung down once, twice, five times, ten, until the pig was officially down on the ground. Then Casey pulled out a knife, relishing the look of horror on the cop's face as she stepped on top of him, kneeling on his chest and taking off her mask.

"I'm not even gonna lie, this is gonna fuckin hurt! Well, this is what you get for trying to arrest a lady just for makin' his art!" The cop looked mildly confused, but that was replaced by a wave of horror as the knife pressed against his skin. 

Casey gave him a false sense of security for two seconds before lifting it up and slashing his throat with one solid motion. 

"Go to hell, fag-" The cop choked out, his eyes wide as Casey watched the life slowly leave him. 

"How's it feel be killed by a fag? Cause it sounds pretty good to me!" As his head finally met the street, Casey could hear cheering from above him, seeing Raph on the rooftop and waving. 

"Look, Raphie! I did it!" He sounded like a kindergartener showing off their latest art project to their mom. 

"I know! I'm so proud of you, babe! Now hurry up with that paint, will ya?" 

Casey didn't waste another second, spreading the dead man's blood all over his gloved fingers and using it as a paint of its own. She alternated between spray can and blood, finishing up in a few minutes before going back to the cop and wiping the smeared corpse paint off his right hand. Raph smiled from above, so glad Casey remembered his rule about leaving no trace. 

Before she left, Casey went over to the car, opening it with his not bloody hand, and grabbed the half eaten donut from on top of the middle console. She climbed up the ladder to where Raph was waiting, gazing down upon her finished masterpiece. 

"It's perfect!" 

"Is that really one you're going with?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"Alright, I just didn't know you were gonna do it." 

"But you like it?" 

“Of course I like it, Case, I love it! Let's get outta here." They spend the whole way home singing and laughing, Casey reminding himself to wash the blood off her glove so that no one could trace that lowlife's murder back to him. Oh, it really was a good night after all. 

Turtles POV 

The news was the only thing played on the TV anymore, much to Mikey's dismay, but Donnie controlled the living room now, so the TV was technically in his domain. 

The team was all piled up on the benches, sitting down to watch the 10 o'clock news like it was the newest superhero movie, popcorn, pizza, and all. 

"This is Channel 5 news, I'm Theresa Merdir. Breaking news, cop murdered on 5th and Walnut, killer leaves behind a disturbing message to all. Warning, this story contains images of gore and violence. Viewer discretion is advised." 

The group all looked at each other with worried expressions, save for Mikey who was focused solely on the TV. He gasped as the images were shown, many of the dead cop's wounds, but then they flipped to another chilling sight. Written on the cop's face in his own blood was: ‘Look up’, and the camera did exactly that, showing Casey's boldest artwork yet. April let out a gasp of her own. "Oh my god, Donnie, is that-'' 

Donnie looked equally horrified, he could only nod and whisper "It is." 

In a combination of cop's blood and spray paint was Casey's signature hockey mask next to tall, bold graffiti letters that read one single bone chilling word: "Skullshot."

[littlejuicebox]

So many things I could recommend but here are a few for OP and my followers!

Any of @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate’s work — it’s so poetic I want to cry. My personal fav is this one that perfectly capture’s Astarion’s thoughts and feelings realization over time. It’s on her old blog so be sure to follow her new one. But tbh it’s a damn shame that doesn’t have more notes.

@azukiel has a long fic, Nightfall Heir, that I adore and has just recently been updated. I was waiting patiently/impatiently for their return and I’m so glad they picked up the proverbial pen again! Very well done Astarion/Halsin/Tav dynamic.

@tallymonster’s Memories of Us AU — I’m not normally an AU lover but this one got me hooked. She also recently wrote an AU piece based on webcam sex and that was honestly so unique!

@vixstarria can’t do anything wrong tbh. Her Night at the Inn pieces are top tier smut but my personal fav of hers is this fluff one about Astarion feelings realization and his nice simple plan falling apart. Her pieces contain so many humorous bits and are a delight to read.

The entire Whither series by @brabblesblog — redemption AA is a weakness of mine and she does this well. She characterizes AA and his motivations perfectly. I also love muscle mommy Ban with my whole heart.

Any of @tragedybunny’s work — she’s an OG. You might recognize her moonblood fic because it’s basically a cult classic now. I haven’t read it yet but I know her AA fic is going to slap. I’ve seen enough teasers to be certain. And it’s second on my to be read long fic list!

First on my TBR long fic list is @leomonae’s one featuring illithid. I have to say I’m intrigued by the dynamic and I plan to start the fic tonight/tomorrow! Her writing style is wonderful, she explores interesting dynamics, and her lore is on point. Plus her OneShot Shalt Be Thrust Down to Hell rewired my brain and sent me on a Astarion/Raphael rabbit hole.

Which lead me to Palmarosa by the spectaclesofthor, a long fic with an Astarion/Raphael pairing. Heavy stuff but honestly so fascinating.

And there you go!

i am in the mood to read some REAL good astarion work. if you’ve seen anything that has taken you aback recently then do send it my way!

[fireemblems24]

So, in terms of shippy-nes, how would you rate Dimitri's supports? From "muh OTP" to "naw, they just friends"? Elaborate as much as you want. ^^

Oh, man. I just know this is going to get VERY long. I'll just set the "keep reading" line now because I know I'm about to write way too much.

Please keep note, though, that this is purely based on how shippable I think they are based on supports, and not at all how good I think the support is (i.e. Gilbert and Dimitri ranking bottom tier despite having one of the best supports in the franchise in my opinion).

N/A - Hapi.

Haven't see the support list yet. Can't judge it yet.

Literally married to someone else: Alois and Gilbert.

Not a lot of explanation needed here. Gilbert is old enough to be Dimitri's father, married, and is way to much of a mentor figure even if that was your kink. Alois is very, very happily married by the time he meets a teenage Dimitri and is still so throughout the entire game. It is funny, though, how these two are at opposite ends of Dimitri's fluff to serious in supports.

0 Romance: Raphael

I don't have to elaborate on this, do I? It's mostly a joke support that ends at B with someone Dimitri has no chemistry with.

Catherine: Catherine

Dimitri seems to have a cannon interest in getting railed by people who may actually be capable of it, but Catherine is way too much of a lesbian to me. There's just 0 chemistry here.

Like a sister: Annette

As shipable as Dimitri is, I just can't see him and Annette as anything but siblings. Nothing wrong with that, but not super shippable.

She just looks too young: Flayn

This support is actually ripe with shippableness. Both sides end up getting comforted by words from the other and share deep fears and secrets with each other. Flayn also seems pretty openly interested. But she looks like a child, and Dimitri's fairly big and tall. I hate ranking something so low based on aesthetics, but here we are.

Shame it ended at B: Ashe

The conversation ends on a pretty final note, establishing where they stand with each other. Despite Dimitri's wishes to be closer friends, Ashe sees Dimitri too much as a leader. There's a hint, there, with Dimitri giving Ashe a glimpse into his nonexistent self-esteem that could lead to something more, but, sadly, their support ended at B.

Even more of a shame it ended at B: Sylvain

Sylvain ranks higher than Ashe for two reasons: childhood friend angst and because their relationship seems less fraught. However, if you're looking for childhood angst, Felix, and even Ingrid, trumps Sylvain big time here. The less complicated bit gets a bit rocky in part 2 where we never really see Dimitri and Sylvain really talk. Again, another one cursed by ending at B.

Getting warm now: Ingrid

I like Ingrid and Dimitri's paired ending a lot, especially for Ingrid. I also love the childhood friends to lovers trope, and I think they'd fit each other well enough and have beautiful blond babies. I also just think they both have better options.

Lots going for it: Mercedes

Now we're getting into the territory where I actually ship it. Probably one of Dimitri's most underrated ships, tbh. I think they'd be very good for each other. Dimitri demands a lot of emotional attention, and Mercedes want to dote on someone. She gets all the awards for treating him like a friend in part 1, but that doesn't stop them from having serious discussions in part 2. All that's holding this back is wondering if she's almost too motherly at times? Either way, deserves to be more popular.

Held back by characterization: Byleth

This is an incredibly romantic ship. Part of AM seem built around betting the player will romance Dimitri. The hand holding stuff is adorable, and seeing them play out standard tropes but flipping the genders is pretty interesting. It's held back a bit by Byleth not being as compelling as other characters. Dimitri also seems a bit too dependent on Byleth too. To it's credit, though, it feels natural and it's a good breather that it leaves enough room for Byleth to play mentor rather than shoving it so hard it feels forced.

It's complicated: Felix

Holy hell this is a TOXIC relationship. But I'm weak, y'all. If you want angst, nothing, absolutely nothing tops these two morons. They're 100% that pairing I absolutely die for in fiction and can't get enough of in fanfiction, but good God in real life, no fucking way. Anyways, there is just so much to unpack here that I feel their relationship deserves its own write up. The fact Felix is the only character in the game who gets majorly different endings when he leaves his house and only ever is happy when Dimitri survives is just the tip of the iceberg. Even their paired ending is full of unresolved yearning. HOW. Only held back because I really would've liked an A+ support.

Super sweet: Marianne

They only have three support conversations and a paired ending, but not a moment of that is wasted. Some highlights include Dimitri NOT telling Marianne to just smile or be happy, Dimitri LISTENING when Marianne tells him to stay away, rescue romance (between C and B), mutual relief when they discover someone who feels the same way they do rather than just trying to change them to fit someone else's idea of normal, mutual healing together without being dependent on each other, seeing two sad characters who deserve the world get such a happy paired ending together. Did I mention that paired ending? I almost cried. They both deserve all the happiness and that the writers let them get it by pairing them together. Yes. Only held back because they literally only get three conversations and end ending, please fix this Three Hopes.

I literally cannot: Dedue

Everyone knew this would be number one. Someone once told me on here they thought Dedue got wrote out of part 2 so much because the writers saw what they created and went "oh, shit, how is he supposed to get Byleth?" Their co-dependency, difference in stations, complications given what Faerghus did to Duscur, and Dedue's refusal to be Dimitri's friend (in part 1), gives it some good angst, but there's sweetness to balance it that Felix/Dimitri doesn't have. Their A-support is mutual gushing, they're both just two big (terrifying) teddy bears, and Dimitri's reaction when Dedue returns in part 2 makes me cry. But, it's got that bit of spice I mentioned earlier to keep it from venturing into the too sweet area like Marianne and Dimitri could dip into. The backstory between them is so interesting, even outside of AM, these two don't separate. They get "moments" in every. single. fucking. route. Dedue broke Dimitri out of prison and just . . . there's just so much here. They also suit each other so well. Dedue even said he knew the real Dimitri all along and STILL LOVED HIM ANYWAYS. How can you not ship this? How often do you find the bodyguard with a crush/loyal knight when the guarded person is equally infatuated from the get go? So often these kinds of things seem lopsided, but not here, no way. Dimitri returns every inch of Dedue's loyalty in full. And I cannot just cannot with them. That the screenshots from Three Hopes confirms that's Dedue's hand on Dimitri's? Dead. I'm actually dead. Not seriously. But yes.

[modernmagdalene]

Saint and Crystal Associations Part 2

Once again, I’m posting this as a potential resource for other Christian witches or Christian mystics (whatever you call yourself). These are my own personal associations, not official associations of any Christian denominations, so if they don’t feel right for you feel free to use different crystals with different saints. Thanks and enjoy.

Saint Francis of Assisi --> Amber

Francis is best associated with Amber. While not technically a crystal it still is used in a lot of crystal magic. Francis is a very complex saint who helps with a lot of different things: voluntary poverty, helping the poor, antiwar, and oneness with nature. Amber is very old and connected deeply to the earth. It helps with grounding, clarity, patience, wisdom, dissolves negativity, eliminates fear, and balances emotions. All things Francis needed to leave his life of privilege behind and follow God. I think it represents much of who Francis is and can help support the same virtues that Francis represents. 

Saint Brigid --> Opal

St. Brigid would be associated with Opal. Brigid is a saint that is very connected to the goddess Brigid. Their stories are extremely intertwined that you can’t really talk about without the other. Both are connected to fire, love, and hope and that’s all things Opal is connected with as well. I also personally tend to associate Opal with the divine feminine and Brigid connection to a goddess makes that work as well.

Saint Julian of Norwich --> Moonstone

Julian of Norwich I said in a comment that I associated with Lapis Lazuli but then relaized I was already using that crystal with St. Perpetua and Felicity. So I did some more research and decided that Moonstone would work really well for Saint Julian of Norwich. Moonstone is obviously associated with Lunar magick and the moon is also regularly associated with femimine energy. Which works wonders with St. Julian who often depicted God as femimine. One of the things that made her contraversal. St. Julian of Norwich had visions and was a prolific writer. Moonstone helps those seeking wisdom and strengthens psychic abilities. St. Julian of Norwich is also a known cat lover so have moonstone carved into the shape of a cat is even better. 

Saint Mary MacKillop --> Obsidian

(Trigger Warning Mentions of sexual abuse in this.)

Mary MacKillop is the first saint of Australia and one of my favorites! Mary MacKillop reported a priest who was abusing children and not longer after a friend of this priest used his connections to get her excommunicated. Her excommunication was eventually lifted. I have always admired her strength and resilience. That’s why I chose obsidian for her. Obsidian shines a light on the negativity and clears it away, helping us to choose the path leading towards light and love. It is also a protective stone as it used to be used for weapons. If you need to fight the devil obsidian is up there with tourmaline as an excellent crystal to clean house.     

Saint Raphael the Archangel --> Ametrine

St. Raphael the Archangel is another favorite of mine. If you use a Protestant Bible you might not have read about him. Raphael is featured in the Book of Tobit which is only in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles. The Book of Tobit is an epic love story between Tobias and Sarah that also features thievery, exile, and fights with demons. Where Michael and Gabriel tend to appear to humans briefly then leave. Raphael, disguised as a human, travels with Tobias throughout the whole book. Raphael is most associated with healing and I connect him to the crystal ametrine. Ametrine is associated with healing, harmony, strength, balancing physical and spiritual life, and aids in contacting spirit guides. This works with Raphael’s connections to healing. Furthermore, Raphael’s role guiding Tobit and being a spiritual being working on earth makes ametrine perfect in helping to connect with him. Use this stone and ask him to help find balance in your practice and assist you with finding spiritual guides.

Saint Rita --> Smoky Quartz

St. Rita is the patron saint of impossible tasks. She is someone I rely on when I really need to overcome an obstacle or problem in my life. She is also prayed to when someone has a deadly illness or serious problem helping with things that seem impossible to deal with is just her jam. Because of this I associate her most with smoky quartz. This crystal is super powerful and is a great grounding and balancing stone. It absorbs negative energy like a sponge (because of this it should be cleansed often-ish use your best judgement). It’s so useful and can even cleanse other crystals. It keeps all the negativity away from you which is something that one really needs when dealing with impossible situations.

Saint Mary Magdalene --> Celestite

Mary Magdalene is one of my favorite witchy women in the Bible. She wasn’t scared away like the other disciples when Christ was crucified, she was the first to preach about the resurrection, and was active in preaching and teaching others about Christ. One of my favorite stories about her comes from the Orthodox tradition where she was preaching to Emperor Tiberius Caesar about Christ and turned an egg red to prove to the emperor that Christ’s story and power was true. I associate Mary Magdalene most with Celestite. Celestite raises spiritual vibrations, promotes spiritual growth, and aides in communication with the spiritual realm. This crystal also boosts self-worth and self-expression, all things Mary Magdalene had in abundance. Mary Magdalene also seems to be the most connected to the spiritual world out of all the apostles (with the exception of maybe John) so this crystal is perfect for her.

Saint Joan of Arc --> Bloodstone 

St. Joan is a warrior and protector. I also consider her a trans and/or genderfluid saint who will naturally protect trans and genderfluid peoples. Because of this I associate her most with bloodstone. Bloodstone promotes justice and strength, it is also good for healing and renewal, but bloodstone is probably best known for boosting spells and banishing spirits. Or as I prefer to use it, boosting protection spells and banishing TERFs.

Saint Francis de Sales --> Kyanite

St. Francis de Sales is one of my favorite saints purely because he is the patron saint of writers and I am someone who greatly enjoys writing. Kyanite is the crystal I use with this saint. It promotes creativity and also dispels negativity aka those negative thoughts that tell you that you can’t write. It’s also supposed to sharpen your focus which can be especially helpful with writing or any creative work, especially if you are easily distracted like me.

Saint Anthony of Padua --> Amazonite

St. Anthony was one of my grandmother’s favorite saints and probably the saint I use the most in day to day life. He is the patron saint of lost items. He was a devout priest and taught students from a book of psalms. He once tried to preach to people who refused to listen to him. He instead decided to preach to the fish who all started to gather near the shore to listen to him. When people saw this they decided they should listen too. So you know when in doubt preach to fish I guess. Anyway, I associate St. Anthony with amazonite. Amazonite helps sharpen the mind, aids communication and promotes good luck all of which are great attributes for learning and teaching, finding lost items (that’s the good luck bit), and aiding communication could help you talk to people or fish, your call. 

Saint Valentine --> Rose Quartz 

St. Valentine did a lot but he is most associated today with marrying couples in the Christian church during the height of Roman persecution. So naturally I associate him with rose quartz, a crystal that promotes love and fertility, dispels loneliness, opens the heart to compassion, and even strengthens faith. The perfect stone for this romantic saint. 

Saint Scholastica --> Citrine 

St. Scholastica was the twin sister of St. Benedict, and was the founder of the women’s benedictine order. As someone who went to a benedictine college I have a fondness for her. If you are a storm witch in particular I think this might be the saint for you. At one point Benedict and his monks visit Scholastica and her nuns. Scholastica didn’t think she would live long enough to see her brother again after this meeting so begged him to stay the night, but Benedict didn’t want to spend the night outside his monastery and told her he couldn’t. So Scholastica prayed and a massive thunderstorm suddenly came making it unsafe for Benedict and his monks to travel. And here is my favorite bit:

“Realizing what had happened, Benedict reproached her: "What have you done, my sister?” Scholastica answered simply, "I asked a favor of you, and you refused to listen to me. So I asked my God, and He, more generous than you, granted my request.” Once again Scholastica’s pleas won the favor she was seeking.” 

With Scholastica I associate the crystal citrine. Citrine is all about manifesting change, protection, creativity, and success all things she needed to live the life she did.

Saint Dymphna --> Blue Lace Agate

St. Dymphna is one of my favorite saints and she is one I utilize often. She is most associated with mental and emotional illnesses. If you are a spoonie witch this is the saint for you. Because of this I associate her most with Blue Lace Agate, which helps people express themselves (helpful when going to therapy or a doctor) and also helps with dealing with any sorts of fears or anxiety. (Reminder: That utilizing this saint and crystal is meant as a prayerful way to ask for help dealing with mental and emotional illness. It is not a replacement for therapy or meds.)

St. Sara-la-Kali --> Jasper

St. Sara-la-Kali is the patroness of the Romani people. She is said to have helped the Three Marys of the Bible arrive safely in Gaul after she had a vision of them arriving. She used her dress as a raft and helped the women get to shore despite the tumultuous waves. She was also extremely generous and often collected alms for the poor. I associate her most with jasper. A crystal native to Romania it aids in peace and wisdom and also is particularly helpful during times of transition by providing stability and protection. It also supports perseverance and acceptance, something we definitely need Sara's help with right now.

[antisocial-af]

Title: A Chance at Forever

Gift for: @brightasstars

Chapter: 3/3 COMPLETED

Square Filled: Free Space (For @shadowhunterbingo​)

Raiting: T

Wordcount: 1839

No Major Archive Warnings

SFW, Angst with Happy Ending, Time Travel, Malec Fluff.

Author’s Note: I am still under the weather and have been for a bit. But I wanted to finish this Bingo Square before the event closed. 

Summary:

Alec and Magnus travel to the past and make a big decision about their future.

Read on Ao3

Story:

The portal threw the couple out on an expensive-looking rug, causing them both to groan in discomfort. 

"Where are we?" Alec questioned as he started to straighten himself out. 

"Not really where darling," Magnus corrected him as he held his hand out to help his husband up. "More like when."

"When?"

Magnus looked around and confirmed that Ragnor's portal actually worked. "we are in the past, Alexander."

Alec just looked at his husband, confused. He didn't understand what Magnus was going on about. Finally, Alec took his husband's outstretched hand and replied, "Magnus did you hit your head hard on the landing?"

"No, but darling, we must get moving," Magnus stated as he started to pull Alec through the old house. "We can't stay more than an hour, or else we might be stuck."

Alec stumbled after his husband at the insistent tugging. Magnus had never led him wrong, so he trusted the other but still didn't stop the confusion growing within the Shadowhunter. 

Alec watched as his husband's eyes darted around the room till a smirk played onto Magnus' lips. 

"There you are!" Magnus declared in an excited tone. He moved forward, pulled on the bookshelf in front of them, and sent a pulse of his magic through the vault’s lock. He had to make sure that even if someone found his vault, they wouldn't be able to open it without his magic signature. 

"Magnus?" Alec called out, even more confused than before. He looked around the room and saw old reports laying on a desk. Alec's breath caught when he noticed the dates on them. 1989.

"Just a sec, darling," Magnus called back as he shifted through the small vault. He was sure he put the vial in here. He was positive about it. Magnus pushed back some old photos till a small purple vial attempted to roll out and onto the floor. He quickly wrapped his magic around it and saved it from a shattering fall. "Got you.' 

Magnus couldn't help the small thrill and anxiety that shot through his body as he looked at the flask. This small ingredient held the key to his happiness. 

"We should get going, Alexander," Magnus stated as he turned back to face his husband, who was now reading through reports Magnus must've left out in the past. He could see the horror and strain on his archer's face. "Alexander?"

"In Idris, all these are locked away and censored," Alec managed out as he kept reading the orders the Clave had signed off on in the past. "Magnus, I had no idea…." 

Magnus pushed the vial into his vest pocket and made his way to Alexander. He moved the files away from the Shadowhunter and cradled his husband's face gently. "My love, you aren't them. What they did in the past, you have worked relentlessly to reverse and amend. It is a part of our past, but it doesn't define us."

"They took so much from you all," Alec whispered as he leaned into Magnus' touch. "I'm sorry."

"Darling, what they did is not for you to apologize for," Magnus continued. "Now we can talk about more when we go back, but we really have to go, darling.” 

“Cause Rangor and the portal?” Alec asked as he nodded. 

“Yes, I’m not sure how long our dear little cabbage will be able to stabilize this magic,” Magnus replied, tugging on Alec’s hand towards the unstable-looking portal. He assumed the way back was the same way he got here. He just needed to think back to the present day for the portal to push them back into the loft. “Make sure you don’t let go, darling.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alec smiled and pulled Magnus closer. He didn’t exactly understand how he ended up here, but he knew those documents. He had so many questions, but they could all wait until they got home and far away from this time period. 

“Always the charmer,” Magnus winked and closed his eyes, thinking of the potion he left on stasis in his apothecary, of Chairman probably looking around for him for lunch duty and of all of Alec’s gear and things around their home.

Alec watched his husband concentrate and, like always, swooned at the tiny creases around Magnus’ eyes as he focused harder. He cherished the small details of his husband. The Shadowhunter tightly wrapped his arms around his warlock and closed his eyes, putting his complete trust in him. 

“Let’s go back home,” Magnus smiled as he pulled both of them through the portal. Magnus felt the volatile pull again as the magic ripped through time to push them back out to his present-day loft. 

“Took your time, didn’t you?” Ragnor groaned, exhausted as he tried to bat away the small feline making circles around his feet. “Your beast seems to be hungry as well.” 

Magnus patted himself down, checking everything was in order and the vial still secured in his vest pocket. He quickly turned around to see Alexander doing the same. 

"We got the ingredient," Magnus confirmed as he snapped his fingers, summoning Chairman Meow's food dish filled for the small cat. 

"I'm glad," Ragnor groaned as he fell onto Magnus' desk chair, exhausted. "I've already contacted Cat; she will be here to collect me shortly. But, be warned, she is furious." 

"At you or me?" Magnus asked as he quickly started to pull out the rest of the ingredients Catarina had written down in the recipe. 

"Both." Catarina's voice rang through as a portal appeared in the room. "I can't believe you both would be so reckless."

"Really? I thought this would be expected. I have different cure vials prepared at my home for whenever Magnus calls," Ragnor joked as he started to cough and groan. "Speaking of, do you have magic exhaust remedies on you?"

As Ragnor and Catarina kept going, Magnus gathered all the ingredients and started to measure them out. 

"So it was for a potion?" Alec asked, walking around Magnus' workstation, careful not to get in the concentrated warlock's way. 

"Not just any potion, darling," Magnus confirmed as he dumped the last of his Seelie tears into the pot before vanishing the jar with a mental note to contact Meliorn for more. "This is one of the most important potions I have made." 

"For a client?"

"No, it is for you, my dear husband."

"For me?" Alec questioned as he kept watching Magnus add ingredients before letting the potion simmer. 

Magnus walked forward and took Alec’s hands, and tugged him close. “Remember how we had talked about immortality in the past?”

“We agreed that if it came to it, I would get Raphael to turn me,” Alec nodded as he remembered the conversation that came after he had convinced Magnus to tell him what was bugging him. His husband had been reluctant at first to confide his newest fear with him. It had taken some coaxing till Magnus finally informed Alec that a life without him was not something he was looking forward to and often kept him up at night, especially on those that Alec was off on a mission. 

“What if there was another way?” Magnus asked, bringing his hand up to caress his Shadowhunter’s cheek. 

“Is there?” Alec asked while attempting to temper his excitement. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of changing to a liquid-only diet but would if it meant he would be with Magnus forever. 

“We will see in a few minutes; the potion needs to set for ten minutes before it is safe for you to take it,” Magnus confirmed.

“Will I still be a Shadowhunter?” Alec asked as he looked between Magnus and the resting potion. 

“As far as Catarina found, you will remain the same,” Magnus answered. “You will stop aging within a year of taking it, but there is a slight side effect of it.” 

“What is it?” 

“The potion was created by a Seelie so that they could keep their partner without binding them to the Seelie Realm,” Magnus explained. “In doing so, the partner, later on, developed some extra abilities. Abilities that are usually only Seelie. Random plants growing at will and the sort.” 

“So I will be part Seelie and part Shadowhunter?” Alec questioned as he kept counting the seconds for the potion to set. 

“Not enough Seelie to cause a ruckus but enough that I won’t have to worry about you around my greenhouse,” Magnus teased, trying to lighten the mood. “We can wait, you know. I could put the potion into stasis and look for more ways before we settle on this one.” 

Alec looked between his husband and the potion. With the potion, he could maintain a close to normal Shadowhunter lifestyle. Sure, Alec might have to quit later on once people start figuring out he isn’t aging, but he could have a few more years protecting his Parabatai and sister. Alec wouldn’t have to put Jace through the pain of a broken Parabatai bond. The potion was a blessing compared to other methods they have explored. 

“I want to do it,” Alec confirmed and kissed Magnus’ cheek. “This way, you can also still show me all the great food around the world like you enjoy doing.” 

“I won’t hold it against you if you want to wait, Alexander,” Magnus conveyed, not wanting to push his husband into a choice. He didn’t want Alexander to come to regret it and their relationship to suffer for it. Magnus was aware he was already selfish by making his lover immortal but, he refused to let it cause a rift between them. If Alexander wanted to wait years before making the decision, then Magnus was ready to accept that. 

“Magnus,” Alec called softly. “I don’t want to wait. I want to spend the rest of your forever together. I want to take the first step into our forever.” 

Magnus leaned forward and sealed their lips together, relishing the stubble that brushed against him and the soft reply from Alec as he returned the kiss. “You will never cease to amaze me, my love.” 

Magnus lifted the pot and poured it out to a small glass, observing the potion for discrepancies. Finally, he turned to Alec and handed him the violet drink. “It might taste a bit like metal, but that is normal.” 

Alec smiled and looked at the half-filled cup. He thought that it would be filled with fanfare and dramatics when the moment came to be immortal. Alec believed that he would be nervous, and he still was but not the type of nervous he expected. He was nervous because he would be ensuring his fairy tale with Magnus would never have an end date after this drink. Instead, he would get a happily ever after. Forever after. With one more look at his husband and even the two still bickering warlocks in the background, Alec tossed the potion back like a shot of alcohol and swallowed it all. 

[soc-characters-as-songs]

OCs as lines from the TV 10 minute All Too Well?

some of these are a bit,,,rogue and im sorry

ivy: "'cause in this city's barren cold/I still remember the first fall of snow/and how it glistened as it fell/I remember it all too well"

meredith: "you who charmed my dad with self-effacing jokes/sipping coffee like you're on a late-night show/but then he watched me watch the front door all night, willing you to come/and he said, "it's supposed to be fun turning twenty-one""

diana: "it was rare, I was there/I remember it all too well/and I was never good at telling jokes, but the punch line goes/"I'll get older, but your lovers stay my age""

alassie: "time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it/I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it/after plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own/now you mail back my things and I walk home alone"

ramona: "from when your brooklyn broke my skin and bones/I'm a soldier who's returning half her weight/and did the twin flame bruise paint you blue?/just between us, did the love affair maim you, too?"

rhea: "but you keep my old scarf from that very first week/'cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me/you can't get rid of it/'cause you remember it all too well, yeah"

cornelia: "the idea you had of me, who was she?/a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you/not weeping in a party bathroom/some actress asking me what happened, you"

kaden: “they say all's well that ends well, but I'm in a new hell/every time you double-cross my mind/you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine/and that made me want to die"

andreia: "check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same/after three months in the grave/and then you wondered where it went to as I reached for you/but all I felt was shame and you held my lifeless frame"

suzy: "and you were tossing me the car keys, "fuck the patriarchy"/key chain on the ground, we were always skipping town/and I was thinking on the drive down, any time now/he's gonna say it's love, you never called it what it was"

samuel: "and there we are again when nobody had to know/you kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath/sacred prayer and we'd swear/to remember it all too well, yeah"

bianca: "well, maybe we got lost in translation/maybe I asked for too much/but maybe this thing was a masterpiece/'til you tore it all up"

archibald: "'cause there we are again in the middle of the night/we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light/down the stairs, I was there/I remember it all too well"

raphael: "and you call me up again just to break me like a promise/so casually cruel in the name of being honest/I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here/'cause I remember it all, all, all"

[biiscione]

Instinct - trigger warning: everything.... jk jk. breeding k!nk, exhibitionism - @constylations ‘s estrella and raph being whores, ig. cute whores, nonetheless

     “Cosa?” Voice, low and commanding, inquiries nonchalantly, eyes never lifting from the printed pages. “Use your words, Principessa.”        How long had she been gawking, watching him idly turn the papers of that local newspaper like he hadn’t just rearranged her insides moments prior? Estrella has sat so still, so patient, twirling her fork in her fingers and destroying the yoke of the egg on the plate below. She should eat, she knew that, it was the reason they had stopped and settled on the garden terrace. Unfortunately, she’s still lust - drunk, mind clouded by carnality. It’s something that isn’t so hard for the vampire to spell out on her features, onyx hues peeking over the folded corner of his newspaper, having not gotten the response he had so kindly requested.

       Steel orbs watch him from under dark brows, her anxiously nibbling on the nail of her thumb. Her vampire looks handsome, cute, scantily clad in his smoking robe, an outdated smock he effortly makes look good. Estrella uncrosses sticky, cum - slick thighs and flattens the long skirt of her day dress. It’s not something she would usually sport, but it was quick to put on ( and take off ) and she relishes the dressing ease.        She mulls over her response, what she really wants from him, and speaks it confidently, “I want you inside me.” It is the emptiness that gnawed at her, consumed every thought, kept her from sustenance.        “Bisognosa.” His tone is cool and accusatory, gaze having long removed itself from her. His fingers meticulously refold the newspaper into the form they had received it, tucking it under the empty, clean plate before him. She watches this, how tediously he tends to that stupid newspaper             he’s always like that, huh? DILIGENT.       “Well,” lengthy arms open, beckoning her into his lap. Obliging with giddy delight, she crawls off her seat and steps between Raphael’s long legs. Strong fingers assist her as she lifts the skirt of her dress, settling on the warm flesh of her hips and guiding her onto his cock. Her heat takes him fully and with great ease, like she was made for him, molded to him. She sits happily on his lap, knees together and feet strained so their toes barely touch the ground.        A shaky sigh of relief garners her a kiss between her shoulder blades as Raphael shifts, chest against her back, and reaches for her plate. Full plate atop his empty one, she takes the time to pluck the newspaper from underneath them, unfolding it with less care than he had taken to fold it and scanning the articles.       “Where did you leave off?” She musters through the smoldering ecstasy of fullness.        He pulls the hand from under her dress and silently indicates the printed words. With his other hand, he takes her fork and diligently cuts up the egg she had so mindlessly destroyed.        His nonchalance feels like a challenge to her and she tries to match it, but it was so cruel how he flexed and swelled inside her. Estrella feels he is doing it on purpose. So she shimmies her hips as she reads him the news but is stopped by a wide hand, the pads of his fingers squeezing harshly into her thigh. With whine and a sharp turn of her head, stern gaze watches him.        Dark, heavy brows rise. “You need to eat first.”        Turning her head back, she meets a fork full of eggs and cedes with a sigh, taking a bite before continuing in Italian. Chewing and talking stops as he shifts again, hips lifting slightly to press into her further, the shock of arousing pain as his swollen tip tickles her cervix causing her to stutter.       “É arri          arri          ”       “É arrivato?” Yes. He’s absolutely doing it on purpose.       “É arrivato . . .” Estrella huffs at the correction and at the settling of his hips back onto the chair, swallowing her chewed food and continuing.       Now, he knows he is being too cruel, hand delicately caressing her clothed thigh with reassurances. She ignores his petting while taking another fork - full of food. He isn’t going to win this if she had any say.       This alpine villa set against a beautiful, old lake always had a way of lulling one into a state of insouciance, and that’s why the vampire brought his bride there. The terrace on which they sit is on the ground floor and offers a view of the crystalline waters of the lake. Its garden is flanked by two public paths of cobblestone, blocked off by short shrubbery in an attempt to offer pretty privacy. Not many travelled the path, all except for fishermen, at dawn and dusk, and sometimes the usual elderly local                    “Buon giorno, signora, signore.”       Essie freezes, stops chewing and reading, and does not immediately turn to greet the voice            But Raphael does and so easily strikes up a conversation with the old man on the perimeter of their garden. How could he do that? Speak so carefree about the weather, the day, to a stranger? With his swollen cock deep inside her?       It’s shamelessness really, and the fact the long skirt of her dress, the arms of the patio chair, his own towering frame, shields them. They simply look like a couple at their breakfast table, a wife on her husband’s lap. The vampire shifts as the pleasant man indicates the creeping wisteria on the villa’s walls, resulting in him twisting inside her. Her legs tremble at the sensation and she bites back a whimper.       The pads of his fingers press firmly into her thigh, cementing her against his hips as he ends the conversation with the passerby, who flashes a smile at a now - staring Estrella. For a moment, she doesn’t know what to do, cheeks obviously flushed with the heat of arousal. Swallowing back the sickeningly arousing idea that the stranger knew, she returns his smile as he offers his farewell.       “Buon giorno.” She chirps back, not seemingly suspicious to the poor stranger but her tone was everything to the knowing Raphael.      “Ciao . . . Buon giorno.” Her lover echoes.      Dark hues purposefully eye her profile.      His gaze burns into her flesh. That, coupled with the embarrassment and subsequential arousal, sets her off, hand relinquishing that stupid newspaper onto her plate when the stranger is long gone.     “Eres asqueroso.” She insults him, not daring to watch him in her cold periphery.     “IO?!” Laughter growls into her shoulder. “You can hardly go an hour without my cock inside you.”     That was mean and foul but the sting of truth excites her more. She shifts in his lap, the squelching from the connection eliciting moans from the both of them. He couldn’t deny her any longer, his cool, nonchalant façade hastily deteriorating. Long arms assist her in changing positions, pulling her knees to her chest and guiding her legs to straddle his waist. His cock still seated inside her, the movement was agonizing.     “You feel so good inside me.” Shaky hands hold stubbly cheeks, kissing him, sloppy, open mouthed and sinful.     He growls happily, a hymn of praise that was music to a goddess’s ears.     “I need to fill you with my seed.”     NEED.     Her walls clamp down on his cock, she too needing her womb to be filled with his cum.     She yelps as he forcefully pushes the iron table from them, garnering his legs more room to outstretch and allowing him, and her, to settle on the edge of the chair. He forces their lips together harshly, hips lifting and slamming into hers with the newfound leverage.     “Say it, mia principessa.”      “I need          I need you to put a baby in me,” she wasn’t done yet. “I’ll look s-so pretty with a swollen belly . . . so full.”     He curses against her lips, arching his hips a final time, his cum pooling inside of her. She falters in her own climax, trembling and crumbling against his chest. Long, strong arms wrap around her as he hoists them fully back onto the chair. Her body continues to shake, riding the waves of ecstasy, and he coaxes her through it, wide hand cradling her head against his neck, where she manages to plant several weak kisses. His laughter at the sensation is deep but sweet, dark hues searching patiently for her gaze.      Lifting her head weakly, she presses a sloppy, grateful kiss to the corner of his mouth.     “You did well,” Estrella compliments him, sex - hazed eyes finally meeting his.      “So did you, cara mia.”      Laughter is pressed to his lips. “Carry me in? Before we get an audience. . .” Surely, her legs were too weak to walk, and she is far too unwilling to forfeit both her title as his cocksleeve and the cum that had pooled inside her. Raphael obliges with a kiss, hoisting her up as he stands. Shared laughter rings in the air as they steal themselves away from the light of day and into their den of sin. In truth, neither of them would have had it any other way.

[laulink]

A.N : I have no self-control. The second I enter a fandom, I want to write for it. My next life as a Villainess is no different. So here’s how I want the series to end ! Yeah, thinking a bit of a lot ahead, but what can I say, I’m a sucker for happy endings. Ship : Katarina x Maria.

“Thank you for telling me everything, Katarina. You are in quite the difficult situation, indeed.”

Katarina dropped her head at her mother’s words. Her situation being difficult was an understatement, really. Even though she had managed to avoid her doom by, somehow, leading the game’s story to the friendship ending, or what had seemed to be the friendship ending at the time, she had been harshly reminded that her story didn’t end at her upperclassmen’s graduation party. She was still promised to Prince Giordo who refused to break off their engagement. She had tried to stall, win some time in hopes that Giordo would fall in love with someone else and finally free her, but it hadn’t happened. Instead, she realised he was in love with her, apparently had been for years, and she... she was in love with Maria.

Sweet, kind, cheerful, gentle, beautiful, warm Maria... To make the villainess fall in love with her, she was truly the perfect otome game heroine ! But she was more than that. So, so much more. So brave, so passionnate, so fierce and loyal... How did Katarina think, for even a second, that she would not fall in love with her ? But now she had realised : Maria had won her heart over a long time ago and Katarina wanted nothing more than to spend her whole life with her... But Giordo was in the way and ready to force her into marrying him.

So Katarina had gone home to beg the only person she could think of for advice : her mother, the terrifying Duchess Claes. At least she seemed to understand her daughter’s pain and show some compassion. Now, to know if she would be able to help...

“Mother... Do you have an idea to solve this situation ? I’ve already tried everything I could to make Giordo back off and break our engagement, I even asked my friends for help, but to no avail. He seems convinced that if I marry him and we spend time just the two of us as husband and wife I’ll fall for him... But I can’t accept that ! I don’t want to marry him !”

Katarina felt tears gathering in her eyes as she almost screamed those last words. She tried to hold back a sob : she couldn’t break now, too much depended on her next move. Her whole life... and Maria’s.

Katarina felt her mother put a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t even realised Lady Claes had left her seat across from her. She looked up to her mother’s face and felt her heart break at the sadness in the older woman’s eyes. That could only mean one thing...

“Is there... nothing I can do... ?”

Lady Claes let out a sigh as she sat down next to her daughter, then gathered the young woman in a tender, soothing embrace. Katarina felt herself melt into it and her tears rolling down her cheeks. It had been so long since her mother had last held her like this... So long since she had needed the reassurance and motherly touch.

After a few minutes, Katarina’s tears dried up and she straightened in her mother’s embrace. She couldn’t spend her whole day crying. She had to face whatever the future held for her and fight for her own happy ending. Even if her mother couldn’t help her, she would find a way.

Scrubbing at her face to get rid of the last of her tears, Katarina separated from her mother’s arms and put on a brave face.

“I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you, Mother. I haven’t been the best daughter I could be, I realise that... Yet, I am thankful for everything you’ve done for me in all those years.

- It’s true, you have caused quite the problems,” replied Lady Claes, her face an impassible mask. “Which is why, Katarina... I am disinheriting you.”

Katarina’s eyes went wide. She looked at her mother more closely, but still, no trace of emotion showed on her face.

“What... ?

- You are no longer my daughter, no longer the heir to the Claes family. And since the engagement with Prince Giordo was a promise between our two families, it doesn’t stand anymore either. If you wanted to get married to him, you’d have to accept his proposal once more... but you won’t do that, will you ?”

The cogs in Katarina’s brain started working again, slowly, then faster, faster, faster. And she realised... her mother wasn’t ashamed of her, wasn’t disappointed, wasn’t rejecting her. This was her last gift as Katarina’s mother... The last thing she could do to ensure her daughter’s happiness.

Now she could see it. The pain in her mother’s eyes. The faint tremble of her lips. As she had disinherited her daughter, no bridge remained between them. They would never see each other again. But Katarina could be happy with the woman she loved and that was all her mother wanted. All she had ever wanted. 

Katarina felt the tears come back to her eyes, but she held strong. Her mother was doing something so hard and heartbreaking for her sake, yet managed to control her own emotions : Katarina had to do the same, show her mother that she was strong enough to handle herself, so Lady Claes wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore after today.

Taking a deep breath, Katarina closed her eyes to compose herself. When she opened them again, no tear slid down her cheeks and her gaze was resolute. Firm. Just like her mother. Lady Claes almost smiled ; at last, her daughter showed the qualities she had always hoped to see in her. She could break down after Katarina left : for now, she needed to make the best of the time they still had together. To admire the woman her daughter had become while she still could. Then see Katarina off with a smile. What would come after... she would worry about it when that time came. For now, Katarina was all that mattered. As she had always been.

Katarina looked in her mother’s eyes, determined and strong. When she spoke, her voice did not waver.

“I understand. Thank you for everything you have done for me up until now... Lady Claes.”

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

Closing the door of her mother’s room, Katarina let out a deep sigh. This wasn’t how she had hoped her day would go... but she understood the gift her mother just gave her, and she swore to herself that she would make the best of it and lead a happy life.

She made her way across the estate, down familiar corridors, old stairs, past the paintings of her ancestors and the curious faces of the staff members. She would miss them... She hoped they wouldn’t be upset that she left without saying goodbye. But she knew that if she did say something, she would cry again and she didn’t think she could handle shedding more tears today.

Finally, she opened the main door to the estate and stepped out into the sun. But apparently, the day wasn’t done surprising her.

“Huh ? What is everyone doing here ?

- Katarina !

- Katarina-sama !

- Sister !”

All of her friends ran to her, worry stitched on their faces. They were all here, Mary, Sophia, Alan, Keith, even Raphael and Nicol, her precious Maria... and Giordo. She felt the sting of anger piercing her heart at the sight of him, reinforced when she noticed how worried he looked, as if he wasn’t the cause of her pain to begin with... but a gentle hand on hers dragged her attention away from him and on the person who was touching her. 

Maria. 

Somehow, just seeing her seemed to lift all the burdens on Katarina’s shoulders. She felt herself take a deep breath and a smile come up to her lips. Gently, she took Maria’s hand in both of her own and brought it to her lips, softly kissing her knuckles. Maria smiled at that and drew imperceptibly closer, filling Katarina up with the strength and courage she needed to deliver the news.

“Thank you for coming, everyone, and sorry for worrying you,” Katarina started, looking at her friends gathered around her. “I am fine. Everything will be fine from now on.

- What has your mother decided ?” asked Giordo.

He looked worried. Unsure. Maybe was he starting to realise he had gone too far. But it was too late anyway ; and with how things were now, he would have no choice but to accept his defeat.

Instead of answering him directly though, Katarina turned toward Maria. She was still holding her hand in both of her own. Despite their different upbringings, they had similar, calloused hands. Yet, the way they touched each other was the softest either of them had ever felt.

A smile on her lips, Katarina confessed :

“My mother disinherited me.”

A concert of gasps, quickly followed by questions from all of their friends. But none from Maria. She looked surprised, but kept her mouth shut, waiting for Katarina to continue. Patient. Confident in her lover’s smile and assurance.

Katarina’s smile softened even more. Now for the good news.

With a clear, strong voice that halted her friends’ questioning at once, Katarina resumed :

“Now that I am no longer the daughter of the Claes family, the promise between Duke Claes and the King to see Prince Giordo and I married doesn’t stand anymore. The engagement is cancelled.”

Katarina delighted in the way her announcement caused Maria’s face to brighten, her lips to stretch in the sweetest smile, her eyes to crinkle with happiness, her cheeks to redden in delight. She could spend a thousand years watching Maria’s smile and never tire of it. But she had one last thing to do, and hopefully, it would make this smile brighten even more.

Still holding Maria’s hand, Katarina dropped on one knee. She could hear her friends gasp and squeal in excitement, but she didn’t pay it any mind. She was entirely focused on the apparition before her, on how Maria’s blush deepened as she understood what Katarina was doing while tears gathered in her eyes. Happy. Hopeful.

“I have nothing left to my name, nothing but the clothes I am wearing and my love for you, Maria. I am not the brightest, nor the strongest, and definitely not the most powerful person around... but I do love you more than anything in this world, and I will prove it to you every day if you let me.”

Katarina brought Maria’s hand to her lips once more to kiss her knuckles, sealing her promise, then looked back up at her, tears shining in her eyes again, smile so wide it hurt.

“Maria Campbell, will you do me the honour of being my wife ?”

Maria let out a sob as she nodded, too overcome with emotions to form the words right away. But she managed, a second later, and squeezed Katarina’s hand as she answered.

“Yes... ! Yes, I want to be your wife, Lady Katarina !”

Grinning wider than ever before, Katarina rose to her feet and hugged Maria around the waist, picking her up and spinning her around in delight. Maria’s arms wound around her neck and her laughter rang in her ears as the purest sound she had ever heard while their friends cheered around them. But Katarina barely heard them ; all that mattered was Maria.

Her fiancée.

Her future bride.

The love of her life.

Finally stopping, Katarina let Maria down on the ground and gazed at her for a second, before drawing her even closer and into their first kiss as fiancées. Their friends cheered again, deafening, and their smiles were too wide for a proper kiss, but Katarina didn’t care.

This was the best day of her life. And she couldn’t wait to see it topped by every day that would come after.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Bitch talk about rapharl teaching Alec how to cook a good meal for Magnus and both deciding to work together after lot of bickering because of Magnus bane love juices (u said in your last answer to ask u this so I now demand)(also coz I m Intruiged)

bitch i literally have already told u about this but also sure uwu

ok so like….. alec doesn’t get food. that’s just how it is. he grew up eating nothing but institute food and you can bet your ass there wasn’t seasoning on that shit. on like shadowhunter christmas or fucking something they put salt on the food and that was real adventurous. in shadowhunter culture, food was always seen as nothing but means to an end, Nourishment™ and nothing more. i’m surprised they even had shit like pancakes instead of just being like “for my patrol i am bringing this raw kale, yoghurt and rice smoothie. it is the best combination of nutrients for this time of day & activity” or just straight up eating like nutrient paste like those astronaut food thingies, but i suppose for that last one you would need technological development. do shadowhunters even have blenders tbh. anyway

the point is, food isn’t culturally an important thing for shadowhunters, which is all but canon considering the face magnus made at institute food (seriously, like… the trauma), and there is NO WAY alec knows how to cook. moreover, he doesn’t really get the inherent connection magnus has with culinary as a way to keep tradition alive and express one’s feelings, including love

but he does understand the basic fact that food matters for magnus. it’s funny to me because during s1, every time they talked about dates, alec suggested drinks (as he knew it was something magnus liked), but magnus always went for restaurants. the ethiopian place he knows, the place they went to in tokyo for their second date... i think drinking is more flirting for magnus, but going to a restaurant is more romance. because like not to slut all over the place yet again, but food is love

all of that to say (can u tell this is gonna be a really long answer) that alec is smart enough to eventually realize that magnus would love it if he made him some food. but does alec know where to start? no. he can’t like, tell a carrot apart from a broccoli tree and that’s just how it is. so, he goes to raphael for help, because he knows for a fact that raphael loves cooking and that magnus loves raphael’s cooking

and because alec is Like That his approach is very much like… “okay so teach me right now how to make a michelin star-worthy meal” and raphael is like… rubbing his temples, stressed out already, because goddamn 

so raphael has to sit down and explain the facts of life, i.e. that it doesn’t work like that, to him. cue dramatic speech about how cooking is an art, it’s not just about following a recipe. raphael could teach alec the steps to the most intricate dish, and it wouldn’t be worth anything if alec didn’t understand food, how it worked and how it meant. you don’t expect someone to draw the mona lisa just from knowing art theory. it takes practice, and love, and dedication, and raphael is willing to teach alec all that, but he has to understand that it will take a long time

and alec is like. what the fuck is a mownay leezah and raphael has to sigh and be like. cooking is like mastering a weapon. you have to train. and alec is like ah okay understandable 

cue cooking classes, which will 100% be written here like some “the hero is trained by their wise, old uncle on the ways of fighting” trope because like, yeah. so put on some music that matches that tone

so for the first class raphael puts some soup in front of alec and alec is like. hmmm. and raphael is like “take some and tell me how it tastes” and alec of course goes all “soup……” and raphael raises his eyebrows at him and he’s like “vegetable soup……” and raphael makes go on gestures as patiently as he can and alec is like “i think there’s……….. potato” 

so speech number 1: to be able to cook, you need to know how to eat. cooking is something that you do with all your senses. you need to be able to taste, and tell what’s missing, or if there’s too much of something, and if the texture is right, etc. you need to know what you’re looking for, you need to understand how to improvise, you need to pay attention and be in tune with it. you have to understand the ingredients. and alec is just like, nodding along and doing his best, because look. he might be a himbo with no previous experience on this and he might have no idea what raphael is talking about, but he does want to get this right, and understand this part of magnus better, too. only reason he’s not taking notes is because raphael looked at his notepad like he was going to die

alec takes to describing and understanding textures pretty well (hypersensitivity, babey!), but struggles a lot more with tastes because he doesn’t really have the apparel to describe it accurately due to lack of experience with that. which quickly makes raphael kinda.. sad. he went years without eating (he WILL find a way to be able to eat AND be still a vampire if it’s the LAST THING I DO IN THIS STUPID LIFE) but he can still tell what everything tastes like from memory. it’s not that alec can’t tell, he just… doesn’t know what to do with them because he was raised in a culture that literally didn’t care (and possibly forced him to eat Bad Texture foods and shit like that because it’s not like he has the space to complain about that, does he? and as a fellow autistic raphael can sympathize with that very, very well) 

so slowly but surely alec starts to pick up on tastes and describing and telling them apart and recognizing them when together, you know, shit like this. and sometimes he can recognize something from places magnus has taken him to before and he’s like oh, ginger! that’s what it was! magnus likes this, and his eyes are so full of love raphael has no choice but to huff like a kid because he can’t be caught thinking that it’s cute that alec loves his dad so much

(but it earns him many points in raphael’s book)

once alec graduates in Eating, they go to speech number 2: Why You Have To Vibe With The Ingredients. maia is there for that one because i said so, and anyway they need to get to taki’s to have this particular class because they grow at least some ingredients there okay let me have this (one of the things that made maia’s heart melt for raphael the most was seeing the way he was so careful and loving with the plants, like….. especially if they’ve started working together before raphael could eat food, he would just treat them with so much care and longing and put his all into making sure they grew healthy and well and it was just… heartwarming and heart wrenching in equal measures). but anyway she mostly takes to sitting on the counter, watching this unfold, and being very amused

so raphael shows alec, who promptly almost steps on a really small basil tree, leading raphael to scream NO!!! like he is dying and making maia almost double over with laughter, what they have. obviously they can’t grow enough shit to run a whole ass restaurant but they have almost all kinds of herbs and a few quick-to-grow, easy-to-take-care-of ingredients like tomatoes and squash. bonus for these ones: their fruits are also very visible! so raphael gets to show alec how they grow, what the texture is like, how much they weight, etc. obviously he doesn’t expect alec to grow his own ingredients or anything, but it is important to pick the right ones, otherwise no matter what you do, your food will suck. and seeing some examples of them growing might help you understand why and how that works

so raphael goes around to teaching him how to select the best ingredients according to type of vegetable, then meat, chicken, etc. and like not to slut over raphael but for just a second can i say that he’s just… such a patient fucking teacher, even when alec makes him want to die on the spot, and he is clearly so passionate about the subject, like he talks about it with such conviction and care and wants to make sure that alec understands exactly how it works beyond just decorating what is the correct texture for what and maia is just making heart eyes at him the whole time. she came here to be amused but seeing her boyfriend like that really makes her melt. ugh i love them

also every once in a while alec will say something Painfully Shadowhunter-y and raphael will just stare right at maia with the deadest-looking eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, and she almost spits into her own coffee at least once. sometimes she pats his shoulders all like “hang in there, bud”. but also like, he can’t fool her and she knows that he’s proud whenever alec gets it right, and he’s happy that he gets to do this for magnus, even if kind of second handedly. he knows that it will make magnus immensely happy if alec manages to make him a good meal, and like, he deserves it. plus, raphael just loves food and being able to share what he knows about it is always a joy. not that he won’t complain the whole time. but you know

okay so for next time, alec actually gets to cook for real! some good ole’ s o u p. and alec’s like “hmm. i mean i wanted to make something nice for magnus, you know?” and cue speech number 3: if you aren’t able to make a really good soup, you won’t be able to make anything else. it doesn’t matter how simple the dish is, what matters is to do it right, to make it with love, and to make it taste like home. soup is not just soup, it’s warmth, it’s love, it’s caring, it’s peace. i want you to prove to me that you can pour your whole heart into whatever you make magnus. there are no better or worse dishes, there are dishes more suited to one’s taste, or to an occasion. if magnus is upset, some nice, hot soup is going to soothe him way better than the most delicate pastry. so make me some soup, lover boy, and prove to me that no matter what it is, you can put your love for magnus and take care of him all the same

and alec is not one to back down from a challenge, so he sets his jaw and proceeds to cook like he is heading to battle, or in an episode of hannibal, or some shit. and inevitably he overthinks every single detail and it turns out weird and suboptimal, and raphael is like “i can taste your nervousness in this” and alec is like “nervousness is not a taste” and raphael is like “and yet”

speech number 4: you don’t have to think about it, you have to feel. if you’re thinking too much, you’re stuck in your own head, you’re not paying attention. food isn’t made with the mind, it is made with the senses. pay attention to the textures, tastes, sounds, colors. don’t be out there trying to think of what the most accurate combinations are, or something. just pay attention to what you’re doing

and alec’s like. “i’m too autistic for this humbo jumbo i don’t know how to cook through following my heart” and raphael, ready to smack him with a newspaper, is like “it’s not about following your heart, it’s about following your body, paying attention to what you feel. you are more likely to notice texture differences, tastes, sounds, brightness. use that” and alec’s like alright

anyway so alec makes some and it’s like, alright, not fantastic, but good. then for the third one raphael just goes “ok just think about magnus” and alec is like *vibrating* man i sure do love magnus and he’s practically secreting heart emojis through his pores and raphael is like uggghhhgghhhghghhghhhhhh g r o s s, texting maia about his woes and pain lmao. anyway you guessed it the soup turns out great cuz i’m a corny bitch. raphael is like maia. maia. the soup was so good. just because he was thinking about magnus. he’s actually worthy of my dad. uggghhhhh put a stake through my hEART and maia is just like. pat pat

okay so then they go to more technical shit like chopping techniques and temperatures and stuff like that you know the usual shit. and raphael teaches him some more recipes until he eventually decides that alec is good enough to learn something fancier to woo magnus with - idk what that would be tbh so like insert something here. and okay alec graduates cooking class woohooo

and then a few days later magnus goes visit raphael and he’s all like “so… alec cooked for me the other day” and raphael pauses and softens incredibly and is all like “did he now?” and magnus nods, clearly so happy it’s unbelievable, possibly a little in awe because he wasn’t expecting the sudden display, not when he knew that alec wasn’t exactly interested in culinary, much less for it to be so good. like obviously alec had put thought and work into this and it’s just… really nice. and he felt just so cherished and loved and i just aaaaaaaa

obviously he tries to keep the lovey-dovey shit to a minimum, if anything because raphael already teases him enough (he’s still not over “because you’re totally unbiased”), but it’s just so obvious that he’s happy and he can barely hide a smile behind his tea and whatever raphael made for him (pan dulce maybe?) and he looks almost giddy, and that’s enough for raphael to feel accomplished. and he asks what alec made for him and magnus goes “soto ayam” and raphael’s eyes widen in shock and he smiles to himself like “the bastard”, because in the end alec made magnus soup, soup from magnus’ culture, because he understood perfectly exactly what raphael meant with food being love and care, and i just aaaaaaaaaaa

and don’t get me wrong he’ll make magnus fancy dinners too eventually, with roses and wine and the whole shebang, but he specifically chose soto ayam to be the first because he just loves magnus and wanted that to show through his food before anything else and i just doadsiahdaih im a soft bitch the end

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

For if they return they were always yours

For @aceon-ice​

Summary: The tightness in her chest, the coiling coldness in her gut, the force in her lungs, preventing her from exhaling properly; it’s been a blessing framed as a curse, or a curse disguised in pleasure. Even now, she’s not sure.Her head is; stubborn, proud, unwilling to sacrifice another part of herself. Unlike her heart; brave, but foolish, vigorous, but vincible, always hoping, close to unhinged surety that the next person she offers it to, will not strike, crush, or break it.She longs for that someone by her side, someone she can trust, count on, be comfortable with, and know, no matter the troubles, hardships, or challenges they'll face, they won’t forsake her.

A/N: Hello AceOnIce, I chose a fic for Lydia/Izzy, because I adore them, and I hope you can enjoy this. It's my first fic where they are the main couple, and I was hesitant, scared to mess up, but I really enjoyed writing it. <3

Read it on ao3: HERE

The shine of the blade hits her eyes as she moves it to polish the other side, her motions stilling as her mind drifts to memories, treasured, but painful.

Her fingers brush long blond hair from her lover’s naked shoulder, her skin shining golden in the candle light. She trails her fingers along her spine, down to the small dent of her lower back, and follows with her lips the same path upwards again.

She can feel the tremors in her lover’s body, hear the small sounds of pleasure, even the smile on her lips. She shifts around towards her, gray blue eyes locking with her own, a hand cupping her neck, pulling her closer, and she loses herself in fervent kisses.

The tightness in her chest, the coiling coldness in her gut, the force in her lungs, preventing her from exhaling properly; it’s been a blessing framed as a curse, or a curse disguised in pleasure. Even now, she’s not sure.

Her head is; stubborn, proud, unwilling to sacrifice another part of herself. Unlike her heart; brave, but foolish, vigorous, but vincible, always hoping, close to unhinged surety that the next person she offers it to, will not strike, crush, or break it.

She longs for that someone by her side, someone she can trust, count on, be comfortable with, and know, no matter the troubles, hardships, or challenges they'll face, they won’t forsake her.

She wants someone like Magnus, or Clary, devoting themselves to her brothers, unconditionally.

No one has ever given themselves to her unconditionally, and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, a toxic fracture in her heart, and endless thoughts of self-doubts, and feelings of inferiority. As if something inside her is simply wrong, and somehow, everyone knows, and leaves after taking her apart, a little at a time.

Lydia was never going to be hers. Everything about them was doomed from the start. She was a typical product of The Clave. Actually, she was a rather perfect creation. And Izzy hated her, for all the obvious reasons, but even more so, for the way she saw her own faults, prejudices, and failures reflected in her.

Thanks to Magnus, Luke, Raphael, and other Downworlders, Izzy realised that she had a long way to go before she could truly pride herself in an ally. She knew she couldn’t have escaped The Clave’s visions, not her parents’, not every Shadowhunter’s she ever had dealings with, had to learn from, but she always thought she was somehow… better.

Oddly, only through meeting, and getting to know Lydia Branwell, did Izzy really see her own shortcomings, and misconceptions. She was, and still is, grateful for that. She’s done more growing in the past year, than in all her life before that.

And she realised how exhausting, and excruciating taking yourself apart bit by bit is. To be brutally honest with herself about herself, everything she’s done, and even more so, the things she failed to do.

She’s especially thankful to her friends who helped her along this harsh journey, taught her, and opened her eyes in many ways, as well as her family, and some other Shadowhunters who felt that the old ways weren’t as golden as they were made out to be.

But she hadn’t expected Lydia Branwell to be one of them. Izzy had almost playfully cursed her beauty, because even though she was determined to hate this Clave envoy with all her might, she had two very well functioning eyes, and Lydia was sheer gorgeous.

When Izzy felt particularly petty, she even cursed her for that. But things changed, too fast for her mind to catch up. Suddenly, Lydia was on their side, and with that, on the side of innocent Downworlders they wanted to protect.

Izzy was never especially good at letting hate consume her, which some said to be one of her greatest strengths, and so animosity turned into sufferance, turned into acceptance, and surprising affection.

And soon her heart throbbed the moment Lydia entered a room, talked, smiled, and accidentally, or purposely, touched her. Even when they argued, and they did that a lot. But it helped them work out their differences in many aspects, and she just felt closer, and more drawn to her.

And when she found that she wasn’t the only one who made up reasons to spend more time together, she leapt into the feeling, into her arms, and bed.

And she was determined to have no more regrets.

She feels a blissful heaviness throughout her body, permeating her wholly, arms closing around her, rolling her over on her side, her naked body pressing into her lover’s, sheen with sweat.

Soft, thin strands of blond hair are sticking to Lydia’s face, she tries to blow from her eye, her face changing into mesmerizing laughter as she fails.

Izzy grins, and caresses all of her disturbing hair away, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of Lydia’s smiling mouth, just to be hugged tighter, and kissed harder.

“You know,” Izzy’s head is comfortable on Lydia’s warm stomach, an arm wrapped over her, Lydia’s fingers gliding through her long, unruly hair, sending prickles along her neck, down her spine, she delights in.

“We’ve spent every night together for almost ten days.” Izzy continues, not sure why this thought took hold of her, but there’s always a reason.

“Yes, we have. And it’s been good.” Lydia says, her forefinger slowly running down Izzy’s brow and nose.

“Mmmm, yeah. Wouldn’t you like it to stay this way?” Izzy asks, sudden surprise and realisation taking her breath away.

“Even if I did, Izzy, it won’t. We won’t be here forever. Nothing is ever certain in our lives, but that things will always change.”

Izzy knew she would say something like that, there was no other option, even. Not for them. And, yet, a flicker of hope for something else was born the moment she asked, now extinguished, casting a shadow in her mind, chasing away her rare moment of levity.

She never said anything regarding this topic again afterwards, knowing how Lydia would react, knowing that hearing it from her lips would hurt even more. They were… something, but not everything, and once again, she had to accept that. She just wasn’t enough, for Lydia, or anyone, or maybe, what Alec and Jace found, was simply too rare, and most other Shadowhunters wouldn’t. She had to accept it.

Even when she knew she fell in love with Lydia, completely, she still had to accept that she was the only one, and that she was the one who would have to nurture another broken heart, once Lydia broke it off, or was sent away.

Or accepted a higher position at the Institute in Rome, with a very good chance to be promoted again.

Izzy knew that it was Lydia’s greatest wish, and ambition, and that she would always choose her head over her heart, and her career over a relationship. Izzy even understood it, to a point, but it still crushed her bone-deep to hear the words.

Lydia was leaving, and she would be happy with the decision. And Izzy had no say in the matter, and she couldn’t ask her to stay, would never plead, would not show how much it hurt, more so than she had anticipated, but it may as well.

She wished her all the best, smiled somehow, and left.

That was four months ago, and a lot had changed, again, just as Lydia said. Izzy was going to be the new Head of the New York Institute, because she too, had to put her career before anything else, because, again, she was proven wrong to want something else.

She hadn’t really talked to anyone about it, but she knew her brothers, and friends, knew, and she knew she could have cried and be comforted by them, but instead, she was grateful for Jace, and Clary’s willingness to train with her every day, and Alec’s insight into her new position, as well as Magnus, and Raphael’s teachings of more she had yet to learn, wanting to be the very best role model she could be, especially for the new generation.

Izzy blinks, the shine of the blade she’s gripped in her hands before her eyes, irritating them suddenly. She inhales, exhales, and puts the blade away, then cleans her work station.

She’s been here, on her own, for the past five evenings, just cleaning weapons, thinking, trying to unravel some of the knots in her mind. She knows she’ll be okay, generally. She knows what she has to do, must put forward, and still learn, and she knows it will never end.

And maybe, the void, sometimes filled with sadness, sometimes anger, sometimes loneliness, guilt, or pride, will become smaller in time. She can’t but try, one day at a time.

The door is suddenly pulled open, Jace storming inside, his expression grave, letting her know something bad happened.

Lydia is here, and she’s badly hurt. She was brought by two Shadowhunters who had been working with her in Rome, but Izzy can’t focus on that. She races to the infirmary, Jace on her heels, blood draining from her face as she sees her lying on the white bed, her face ashen, bruised, and bloody.

“She made us promise to take her here should anything happen to her.” Izzy isn’t able to look at the other two women in the room, her brain barely catching up with their words.

There was a demon attack, a big one, and Lydia got hurt. Izzy feels paralyzed, unable to do anything but keep staring at Lydia’s face, her eyes shut. She doesn’t even know if she’s breathing.

She suddenly feels a hand on her shoulder, and becomes aware of Jace behind her. “Iz.” She shakes her head slowly, forces air into her lungs, and steps forward, her whole being trembling.

People are rushing in and out, but she hardly notices, unable to take her eyes and mind off of Lydia’s face. Izzy’s hand shivers as she touches Lydia’s wrist, to find her pulse, weak. But alive. Time loses its meaning.

She blinks, warm, dark eyes meeting hers, a soft, compassionate smile. Magnus’ hands are moving slowly above Lydia’s motionless body, light-blue magic curling around them, into her.

Izzy doesn’t know who called him, or since when he’s been here, her eyes filling with unshed tears, her chest tight with gratitude, hope, and fear. She doesn’t know if she’s breathing herself.

“Give her some time now, darling, she needs lots of rest.” Magnus leans down, kisses her head, and makes to go, but Izzy catches his hand, clutches it tightly, looking up at him, feeling small, and fragile for a moment, not knowing what to say, her lips quivering.

“Thank you.” She thinks she might break down and cry, but she doesn’t, and he smiles at her, squeezes her hand, and leaves her alone with Lydia sleeping like before.

Except, Izzy notices finally, there’s more color in her cheeks, and the cuts and bruises have healed. There’s just some crusted blood. She gets a warm, moist cloth, and carefully wipes it off of her brow, and temple, suddenly stopping as her eyes swim with hot tears.

She moves backwards, turns away and takes a few deep breaths, fighting for composure. She puts the cloth away, and sits down again on the chair she’s been occupying for hours. She just can’t seem to move away.

She startles, not having realised she’s been drifting, her eyes taking in Alec’s face, bent down next to her. She blinks, fatigue keeping her mind hazy.

“Go get some rest, Iz, I’ll sit with her.”

Izzy turns, a rush of memories clearing her mind, staring at Lydia’s face. She’s sleeping, Izzy hopes. She’s breathing. That’s all that matters for now.

“Go on.” Alec prompts her, takes her hand gently, and pulls her off of the chair. Her body feels stiff and cold.

“No, I- I want to stay, I-”

“Just for a little while, I’ll call you immediately if anything changes.” She meets her brother’s gaze, warm, concerned, probing. She nods vaguely, but she can’t agree completely.

“I’ll just take a shower, then I’ll be back.” She knows he wants to argue, but changes his mind, smiles softly, and nods.

Her shoulders sag as she leans against the closed door outside, her head low. She feels surreal, exhausted. But there’s no time to waste. She walks the halls to her room, her boots the loudest sound around a quiet institute. It’s 1am, she notices as her gaze passes a clock, but she doesn’t care for that.

She strips, fastens her long, straight hair in a high bun, and steps under the warm water. She waits for a minute, turns it hot, waits another minute, and turns it cold, the shudders all over her body waking her up more.

She hasn’t really been able to think, but now, as she’s lathering soap over her body, her mind wanders to the start. To those Shadowhunters that brought Lydia here. She made us promise to take her here if anything happened to her.

It’s more than unusual, curious. Why would Lydia make them promise that? Why would she want to come here? It’s too strange. She can’t ask them now, as they had to leave right away. She wonders how their superiors reacted to their report. Or why no one tried to contact them - or, they might as well have, but no one told her. That’s more likely. She doesn’t care right now.

She only cares for Lydia to open her eyes, and talk to her. Explain. Just as long as she’ll be okay. Izzy rinses herself, steps out, grabs a towel and flings it around her body, walking back to her bedroom to find some casual, warm clothes.

She glances at her bed for a moment, but even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead she takes her stele and activates her runes to get herself through the night awake.

She slips into sneakers, fastens her hair in a neat ponytail, and heads back to the infirmary. Alec looks up, not really surprised to see her back so soon. He would do the same, be the same, so he has no leeway to reprimand her, anyway.

He stays with them for a while, quietly. She knows she could talk if she wanted to, and there are things she might want to ask him, should even, but she really only wants to stay here like this. Not talking, listening to Lydia’s quiet breathing, watching her chest rise and fall.

At some point she reaches for her hand, and tenderly takes it into hers. Her skin feels warmer, not as clammy as before. Izzy feels relief. But she has to wake up, yet.

She sends Alec home after an hour, promising to let him know if anything happens, or if she needs him. She should be the one to be here with her. She wants to be, needs to be. No matter the outcome.

~~~

She becomes aware of something touching her hair, startling her into an upright position. She didn’t exactly fall asleep, but put her head down next to Lydia’s torso, closing her eyes, her mind drifting here and there.

Newborn daylight floods in through the windows, but Izzy blinks several times, though Lydia’s eyes are open, focused on her, her fingers slightly touching her hand.

“You’re awake!” Her mind is excited, anxious, suddenly on overdrive, trying to tell her what to do, what to think, but all she’s able to do is stare at her.

“I am.” Lydia’s voice is rough, and quiet, but alert, and Izzy knows she knows who she is, and where she is, and probably also what happened.

“Are you hurting?” It’s all Izzy can ask while she’s trying to catch up. Her mind is reeling, and there is so much she wants to know, but she has to reign herself in, one thing at a time.

Lydia thinks for a moment, her body moving lightly in places under the blanket. “A little sore, much better than I should be. Magnus?”

Izzy just nods, unable to take her eyes off of Lydia’s face. She’s not as white as the pillow case, but still paler than she usually is. But she will be alright. She’s really… okay.

Izzy can’t prevent herself from grasping Lydia’s hand, holding it tightly in both of hers, for a moment unable to breathe. She exhales slowly, her chest aching.

“I’m sorry for the trouble, I’ll make sure to apologize to everyone.” Lydia sighs softly as her head slinks deeper into the pillow, her gaze falling away.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to worry about that, just- why?” She didn’t mean to end her sentence here, but she’s overcome with so many thoughts, and emotions, and she wishes she could keep a cool, calm head right now, but all of this has gotten to her a lot more deeply than she realized, and inwardly she’s stiff, and trembling.

Lydia licks her lips, and Izzy thinks she should get her something to drink, but her hands are gripping Lydia’s, and she can’t seem to let go.

“I’m sorry.”

Izzy doesn’t understand, and she hopes Lydia will explain everything, right now, or she might burst. She shakes her head, slow growing desperation winding up her stomach, chest, and throat.

Lydia clears her throat, shifts her head slightly, and glances up into Izzy’s eyes. “It was my last day, I wasn’t going on any more missions, but they came out of nowhere.” She swallows with some effort, and Izzy knows she needs water, that she should get her some, but her words are stuck in her brain, and she’s unmoving.

Her last day? She doesn’t comprehend anything anymore.

“I hoped to see you again, whatever happened.” Her voice sounds hoarse, and she’s coughing lightly, shaking Izzy out of her stupor. She turns quickly, glad the table with the water is within her reach, grabs the jug and fills a glass while keeping hold of Lydia's hand.

Lydia takes the offered glass from her, and, propping herself into a more upright position, slowly swallows half of it. She gasps, sighs, and sinks back down, giving the glass back.

“Thank you.”

Izzy puts it away quickly, and gathers her thoughts. “I still don’t understand, are you saying you-”

“Quit. I quit.” Lydia’s eyes are trained on hers, and Izzy feels a shudder rushing all along her spine. What?!

“I told them that I would come back to New York, and that they had no say in it but to accept my decision.”

Izzy notices the tiny, sad smile in Lydia’s eyes, and somehow, she still doesn’t understand anything. “But you wanted to leave, you are determined to have your own institute.” So, why would she ever want to come back? Why would she get in trouble with The Clave?

“I was- am, but… I found out I’m also a fool. Just like Jace said.” She’s smiling a little more, coughs again, and Izzy is fast to help her up, stroking her back gently until Lydia gives her a nod, and she carefully lets her lie down again.

“Jace?” Izzy’s mind, and heart, are all over the place.

“He said I was a fool to leave, and Clary agreed. Alec didn’t say anything, but he gave me that look of his, you know, the one that makes it very clear he thinks you’re wrong. I understood their view, but I wanted to be right. I needed to be.”

She sighs softly, and reaches out her free hand towards Izzy’s face, her fingertips tracing her chin. “Max once said that he liked having me around because you were always smiling when I was there. I had forgotten about that, but I had many sleepless nights, and I remembered. But I still needed duty, and career, and hard work, to determine my life, and my future. That’s what I thought, despite everything I had witnessed from all of you, I couldn’t let go of that part of me. I was too scared to, I was even ashamed, and I didn’t fully understand why.”

She drops her hand, and closes her eyes for a moment, visibly emotional, and exhausted. Izzy is letting her words process inside her mind. But she’s too scared herself, to come to a conclusion on her own, she needs Lydia to tell her everything.

Lydia opens her eyes, and focuses again. “Sorry, I feel a little dizzy, but I’m alright. All I wanted was to see you again, and talk. I didn’t expect it to be like this, but it’s maybe more than I deserve.”

She shifts a little, seeming in discomfort, but when Izzy makes a move towards her stele, she holds her back, taking both of her hands into hers. “I also realized that I needed to leave. Or I wouldn’t have understood any of this. I thought I had to fight, and defeat my emotions, my heart, but in the end, I fought, and defeated my head, and my fear, and shame, so I could come back, and be sure.”

She moves onto her elbow, upwards to be face to face with Isabelle. “I never promised you anything, because it would have been a lie, and I made sure to keep a part of us separated, because I could only allow for one outcome, for us to be apart. And I had to be away to understand everything you’ve all been showing, and teaching me, all this time. I couldn’t let it in back then. But when I was alone, finally a step further towards my goal, with every day everything felt a little stranger, until it all felt wrong. And I did try to convince myself of the opposite, but even then, somehow I knew I didn’t really mean it.”

She pauses, shifts again, and sits up properly, her long hair falling into her face, but she doesn’t let go of Izzy’s hands, merely shaking her head to make it move.

“Once I understood what was happening with me, or rather, what had happened in me, it was almost easy to let go of the set ideal of myself, and my life. And I had to agree with Jace, I was a fool.” She smiles softly, her eyes glistening.

“And I’m so sorry for making you collateral damage in my journey of finding myself, I guess. I can’t vow that I would have got here if things had been different, but I wish I didn’t have to hurt you in the process.”

She kind of slumps into herself, shutting her eyes, full of regret, and Izzy can’t but keep watching her face, so dear to her, Lydia’s words repeating over and over in her head.

She shuts her eyes, as well, gathers herself, looks at Lydia again, and slowly pulls her hands out of hers, making her startle and look at her in alarm, but Izzy soothes her quietly, and pushes her gently back down into bed, staying seated on the edge of it, her hand caressing a few strands from Lydia’s face.

“You really are a fool, a pretty great one.” Izzy smiles, her eyes burning with hot liquid.

“But I’m going to let you in on a secret.” She leans down a little, Lydia’s expression surprised, curious.

“We’re pretty much all fools here, with very few exceptions.” She smiles softly amidst realising what Lydia has been saying. She came back, she wants to stay here, she doesn’t want to be the head of some institute, she wants…

“But some of us have followed our hearts, and weren’t led astray. So, is that what you’re saying?” She leaves her hand covering Lydia’s jaw and cheek, piercing her gaze, needing certainty, because she knows her own heart, and who she wants the last person to be to give it to, and take care of.

Lydia’s eyes widen slightly, and Izzy can feel both of their hearts beating faster in the space between them, and she’s hoping, trusting it completely, to not make an even greater fool of herself.

Lydia exhales suddenly, her lips curling into a lovely smile, her eyes shining. She nods. “It would be an honor to rank amongst the fools at the New York Institute.” They’re both giggling quietly for a moment, tension falling off of them, tired, surprised joy remaining.

Lydia turns her head, cupping Izzy’s hand on her face with her own, kissing her palm, inhaling her scent, her eyes closed.

Izzy’s fighting with a sob, deep down still a little apprehensive, not yet able to chase every last shadow of doubt from her.

Until she locks eyes with Lydia once more. “I missed you.” And Izzy hears the pain in her voice, sees it in her eyes, and before she can say anything else, she leans down, touching her lips, kissing her sweetly, until Lydia’s arms fold around Izzy’s body, and she’s suddenly moved down and around, almost falling off of the bed, if not for Lydia holding her close, side by side.

“I’m not letting you go again.” Lydia smirks slightly, and Izzy, though concerned for her not fully recovered state, can’t but smile, and give in, wrapping her arms around Lydia in return, their noses brushing together.

“Then you better never scare me like this again.” She gives her a reproachful look, and Lydia’s expression softens. “I’ll do my best.”

Izzy has to be satisfied with that. “I have some news to tell you, as well.” She smiles a little, leading her mind to a safer topic, but for a split second, a crack opens inside her, fear striking her. What if she already knows I’ll be the new head of the institute, and that’s why-

“What is it? I haven’t heard any news in forever, tell me.” Lydia’s words close the crevice immediately, calmness, and happiness settling inside Izzy’s body, warming her from deep within.

“It’s not that important right now. I’ll tell you later.” She smirks, and Lydia seems regretful for barely a moment as their lips slide together, hands stroking over one another’s body, tangling through hair, and caressing the little skin that’s revealed.

Izzy feels Lydia’s lips wandering along her cheek, soft caresses, and touches, to her temple, eyebrow, and forehead, suddenly whispering right above her ear, her breath stuck, her heart stuttering.

“I love you, Isabelle, for certain.”

A tear slips from Izzy’s eye, every part of her brimming with bliss too vast to comprehend, but, finally, she feels that she’s enough, because this feels right, like she’s been found, finally able to let go of everything else.

[redbritishsniper]

five times kissed (for raph and nat ofc <3 🥲)

The first time they kissed it was unintentionally.  When they were ‘younger’ - Natasha being 25 back then and Raphael well...who knows how old he was during their early stages of their odd friendship - they were pissed. It was mostly Natasha after a few drinks in. The strong kind since Raphael’s vampirism doesn’t effect his bloodstream. One thing he should have known when she gets drunk is that she gets giggly and dry lipped. So when she nearly stumbled off her seat when they were about to leave, dear Raphael with a kind soul, he helped her up and was lip locked with her till he pulled away.

She doesn’t remember what happened the night before and he didn’t have the heart to tell her about it.

The second time they kissed, she was hesitant before hand. It was a curious thing to wonder what was it like to kiss him. Heartache, mostly anger, was all she felt after leaving that horrible relationship and booze was what she was seeking for. He, however, did not approve of it and instead was trying to ease her head for her children, how young they were still and would need their mother functioning and healthy. What a good friend he is, a friend she wonder what it’s like to kiss. Raphael didn’t back away when she made the first move but he didn’t object it yet reminding her to not rush after what happened. She nodded her head and gave the bottle to him to throw it away.

The third kiss happened months later after the second kiss. One that got extremely heated and with both parties knowing what’s going to happen afterwards. The door shut the world out for their privacy alone with each other in bed.

The fourth kiss was a sad one. It was thought to be their last kiss due to their positions they must be in. They can no longer be able to see each other and neither of them can able to tell when will time allows them to cross paths again if they do not have their own separate endings with someone else. Neither of them wanted to pull away yet someone have to be the one to leave first, their backs facing them until they disappeared from their sight.

That is, until the fifth kiss happened. One that brought the spark back for these two right here. When strangers became friends, friends became lovers, lovers became strangers, and fate brought these two back together as employer and employee once he caught wind of Natasha retiring from her position as Sniper. Despite her aristocratic status she could have returned to, he gave her the job that she fondly enjoys better and to be closer to his side.