#rather than his intrigue of magic powers

[tartagliove]

in an alternate version of this vampire!Childe fic, Reader is quarter fae, which is what intrigues him about you. in this one, Reader is a human baker, and what catches his attention is your sweet scent—but what keeps his attention is simply you.

[viaviavie]

short drabble about overblot!jamil projecting onto you, but on the bright side, you're distracting him by feeding his ego! tw: it gets suggestive at the end

You swear you have seen this scene play out before. Perhaps it was in one of those old animated films you've seen before waking up in Twisted Wonderland, but the resemblance was simply uncanny. The feeling of warm gold gripping at your wrists made you grimace as you eyed its chain leading back to a haughty Jamil, seated upon the lavish cushions and fabrics. Students, or perhaps, slaves, tended to him from every corner, whether they were feeding him, fanning him, or guarding him. Luckily, at least he had some courtesy to let you keep your uniform, rather than give you a makeshift set donning Scarabia's colors.

God knows where Grim, Kalim, and the Octanivelle students were now. Wherever they were, you found some solace in knowing that Grim would at least remember you. If that direbeast were to ever make his way back, you would become his priority next to fixing this mess. The thought of not being rescued made you grimace, an expression that did not go unnoticed by this mockery of a Sultan.

The great Jamil spares your pitiful form a singular glance, piqued with amusement. "Prefect," The title slipped from his lips so smoothly, but the way he tugged you over with the chain was anything but gentle. Choking back a yelp, he watched as you scrambled to your feet and hurried to his side like his pet.

For a student with no magic, no family, and no knowledge of this world, it was a wonder that someone like you ended up in the eye of the hurricane. After all, Jamil thought of you to be insignificant to his wicked plan to usurp Kalim's position. It wasn't as if you had any real power to stop him, though he would be certainly amused if you tried to fight back. It would only give him a reason to put you back in your place.

Much to his surprise, however, you had been surprisingly obedient since he kept you captive and threw your companions to the other side of the realm. You did not wail or protest, nor did you struggle when he placed these chains on you. Instead, you watched along and nodded accordingly without rebellion.

And he adored every second of your obedience.

(Really, what else could you possibly do? There was too much risk in fighting back when Jamil looked like he could bite your head off! It wasn't obedience, it was absolute fright and wise decision making on your own reactions!)

Jamil was not too fond of you standing while he was lowered to the floor. With a single tug, you found yourself collapsed onto pillows, a knee trapped between Jamil's legs. Eyes wide, your cheeks had begun to burn red at how close he was, not to mention how your hands had been pressed to his chest. With a click of a tongue, Jamil raised a brow. "Clumsy." He allows you to readjust yourself, only satisfied when you sat on your knees with your hands clasped on your lap.

Perhaps that was the one thing he was intrigued by the most about you. Boring his dark eyes into yours, he leans into your stoic expression with a wicked smirk. He knows what you truly are, after all. "Delightful little thing, you are. You've seen right through my facades quicker than any of those buffoons ever had since my enrollment here." You cannot tell whether it is because of how close he was, or if it was because of his deduction, but he takes such amusement in the way your breath hitched.

"Pray do tell, what is it about you that gave you such foresight?" You swallow to yourself. Your lips had already parted but your teeth were clamped shut, as if you refuse to admit your secret. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that Jamil appreciated your prolonged silence. A harsh hand gripped your cheeks, and you couldn't control yourself from reacting in pain. The viper forced you to look at him, and the snakes protruding from his body hissed and rattled with aggression. "You cannot fool me, prefect. I see right through you, even now." Still, he does not let you go. "To think that Azul fell for your naive and docile facade, he was a fool to let you retake Ramshackle dorm. I would have seen it coming a mile away."

You remain silent, pupils shrinking as he gripped your chin tighter. A grin of a snake overtook his features, and for a moment, you swear that his eyes were slitted too. "You and I, were are not so different." With his other hand, Jamil allowed his digits to play with the golden band around your wrist. "No one really knows what you're like. All they know is how agreeable and nice you are, and that is all that it takes to gain their trust." He gripped your wrist and suddenly, you find yourself pressed flush against the cushions and Jamil is on top, pinning you down as if you were prey. "Or maybe, that's all it took to gain more."

Still, you do not fight back. You stare at him with shock, frozen and uncertain on how to plan your next move. Jamil is looking for something on your expression, but not even he could force a reaction out of you. "Did you find me a fool, prefect? If one cannot wield magic themselves, surely, they can find others to wield it for them." His eyes narrowed with suspicion as his grip tightened even more. "You could have stopped with Housewarden Riddle, but you had wormed your way into Savanaclaw and Octanivelle. And now, you are trapped here with me." Jamil lowered himself into your ear, and you can feel that sinister smile.

"You and I are the same. I don't need my unique magic to make you admit it." It takes everything in your power to keep yourself from correcting him. A man who has worn a mask his entire life, and you, who only learns to adapt accordingly. He, who yearns to be something he can never be allowed to be, and you, who has been struggling to blend into a world that did not belong to you. You are not him and he doesn't seem to realize that. After all, when you live with envy, it becomes easy to believe that everyone out there is aching to be more than what they already are.

"What did you hope to gain from me?"

As much as you wanted to reply, you saw a glimpse of teal hair from the corner of your eye. Then you spot two heads of teal, and that fedora hat. Hiding your relief and excitement, you avert your attention back to Jamil. Holding back a gulp of courage, you sighed in an affectionate tone. “Jamil,” You breathed out, turning slightly to shield his view. “I never realized how attractive it was when you took what was entitled to you.” You felt him stiffen before he shifted towards you, almost suspicious of your words.

In an attempt to feed the lie, you mustered wonder into your eyes and smiled in triumph. "I did not hope to gain anything from you, Jamil. Rather, I was just looking for the right person to admire." You could sense that there was still distrust in his gaze, but nonetheless, he did not pull away. Instead, he allows a hand to play with your cheek, toying with your starstruck expression. "Go on." He purred, as if he were trying to milk more honeyed words from your lips.

And you would indulge him. "Riddle was only a little boy with a temper. A housewarden with such a short fuse would forever be blinded by his rage. An impulsive boy he was, and even now." You lie cleanly, leaning into his warm touch. He hummed, seemingly pleased. "Leona wouldn't care less about matters within his dorm unless it were to challenge his pride. He will forever be indulged in sloth. He knows nothing about hard work." It hurts you to say such things about your friends, but seeing Floyd give you a thumbs up from afar as he snuck through the crowd had eased the guilt.

Jamil is smiling now, allowing a hand to play with your hair. "What can I say about Azul?" You paused for a moment, watching as your friends halted from behind a pillar as you mentioned the Octanivelle housewarden. You sucked in a breath, and hummed condescendingly. "He is nothing without victims, and without his contracts, he is just as insignificant as everyone else without power." Jamil barks harsh laughter at your words, almost surprised himself but your 'true nature'. Luckily for you, he was so distracted by his wicked laughter that he does not notice you screaming a silent apology to a seemingly offended Azul.

Once he composed himself, however, his face darkened as he forced you to meet his gaze with a slight tug of the chain. “And Kalim?” His voice cut through the silence like the sharp end of the knife. For a moment, you swore you were going to falter into fear. “What of Kalim?” Jamil hissed, growing more agitated at the thought of his supposed master. Instead, you stare at him with narrowed eyes, mimicking his scorn. “A foolish boy who is undeserving of his position.”

You allow an impulsive hand to cup his cheek, and luckily, the gesture was welcomed. “It was a relief to see someone so capable take his place.” You sang with a villainous smile, fooling the viper perfectly. "You and I saw how he managed this place. If he was given a kingdom, it would have collapsed under his weight." Jamil shuddered as your hand trailed from his cheek to his neck, down to his collarbones. "It was not too hard to see who was truly ruling Scarabia. I knew immediately who was bringing glory to the name."

Hook, line, and sinker. Jamil fell for every bit of the act.

"Oh? You sing such sweet words, prefect. I prefer this 'honest' you. Perhaps I should keep you in a cage." Jamil relaxed onto his side, his back turned against the rebels who are attempting to hide behind the next pillar. Your attention on them was returned to Jamil as he leaned in close to you, sneaking himself into the crook of your neck. You felt his hand dance along your hip to your waist, making you shudder in his presence. "Wouldn't you like that, prefect? You would never have to pretend again." You find yourself biting on your lower lip as you nodded slowly. "Only for you, Jamil. You are the only one who saw through me." You breathed out as he looked at you once more, barely closing in the gap between your faces.

"Master, prefect." He smirked so boyishly for a moment, and it was enough to make your face red. "Call me 'master'." Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct as his lips finally touched yours, demanding just as the giver was. You felt your heart stop and your neck grow warm as he pushed into you, lowering you both until your head hit the cushion.

If your eyes were open, perhaps you would see the Leech brothers share stunned yet amused expressions at the sight. Kalim was certainly puzzled, maybe a bit scandalized and confused by the sight of Jamil being so forward. Grim and Azul could only stare with their jaws hung until Grim clumsily found himself stumbling onto a table with metal platters that fell with a loud clang!

The spell you had trapped Jamil in had broken in that moment. Eyes snapping alert, Jamil jolted up and whipped his head forward. "What was that?" He gritted out, about to look in the direction of the Leech twins before you yanked on his neck, pulling him back down. "Master, please let me have more." You murmur hastily as you forcibly wrapping your arms around his neck. With urgency, you pull him back into another kiss, rougher than the previous. Whatever resistance Jamil had in the beginning had immediately melted away as he fought against you, prying away your dominance and returning it to his hands that massaged and played with your hips. Purring into your touch, Jamil smiled against your lips. "What an honest pet." He murmured before diving in for more.

With dizzying affection, you lost yourself into Jamil. Perhaps he did not need his unique magic after all to draw out such a secret desire. However, you do hope that Azul and Kalim figure something out sooner before Jamil's hands wander any further from your hips. If you remember exactly how the story was supposed to end, the Great Seven only knew what was going to happen if you never got rescued.

[solkara]

❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒 , jacaerys velaryon ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , your life had been in essos and you thought it would remain that way until you were called to kings landing where a certain dark haired heir stole your heart

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , jacaerys velaryon x fem! red priestess! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , tbh idk if I should do a part 2 for this or not let me know if you guys would be interested in it or . . .

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ the first targaryen you ever met was daemon. the two of you were introduced during his and his wife laena's time in essos. as one of the prince of essos personal red priestesses. your prince going to great lengths to show off his powerful witches and wealth. you were intrigued by them. you had heard a lot about targaryen's and their history. and part of you was curious if all the rumours you had heard were true or not.

⌗ and you got your chance to see for yourself. as you wandered the castle trying to tier yourself so you could finally find sleep. you ended up walking into daemon. and some how the two of you ended up talking all night long. asking each other questions about the other heritage and culture. and by the end of the night you could happily say your curiosity had been fed.

⌗ in the following day you ended up befriending laena as well. the two white haired taking a massive liking to you. as since they didn't have any children of their own yet. they treated you like theirs. and once baela and rhaena were born you became like an older sister to them. and you were very much considered apart of their family.

⌗ which was why laena's death hurt you so much. once new's had broken the first thing you did was hold the two young girls that were like sisters to you. and the three of you sat on the roof of the castle and cried until the sun rose.

⌗ and what hurt you even more was that you couldn't even attend the funeral. your prince and fellow red preistesses forbidding you claiming you were far to young to travel so far. and that instead you should focus on perfecting you magic. to which you begrudgingly agreed and after bidding a tearful farwell to the ones you had called family for so long. you were alone. with nothing but your magic to keep you company.

⌗ obviously you kept in touch. sending letters to the father and daughter trio. but other than that you completely dedicated yourself to training your magic to become stronger. and as the years passed you only seemed to grow more and more powerful. and while you were happy about your progress part of you still craved to explore the world. venture beyond essos and see what else the world had to offer.

⌗ and your opportunity finally came. when one day you were summoned by your prince. who informed you that you were leaving for king's landing. that the newly crowned queen rhaenyra targaryen asked for you. offering you a place on her council. as the positive words of her husband had not gone unnoticed.

⌗ so you departed essos. and made your way to king's landing were you were greeted by some faces. some old some new. "my queen, my king" you said curtseying deeply. but before you could say anything else you were thrown into the embrace of two very familiar forms. baela and rhaena. and with the greetings done. you were partially dragged inside.

⌗ it was rather easy for you to settle in. the targaryens had been nothing but welcoming. one in particular. jace. as it was no secret the heir had grown awfully fond of you. going as far to ask for the creation of a r'hollor template to be made for you. which you greatly appreciated. though you wouldn't deny it made your heart flutter a bit.

⌗ rhaenyra seemed to notice her son's fondness for you. and if anything she encroaged it. as she loved you as if you were her own child. always valuing your opinion and input on matters in small council. so when she noticed her eldest infatuation with her. she was overjoyed as the queen wouldn't deny that the thought of the two of you being wed had crossed her mind before. but if her son was going to court you rhaenyra was going to make sure that he did it properly.

⌗ the following moons were intresting. to say they least. you did you regular council duties as normal. but the moment you were finished you were swept away. showered in gifts and affection. taken on rides on dragonback. which did take quite a bit of convincing. and at some point in the middle. you could well and truly say you had fallen in love with jacaerys velaryon.

⌗ the realisation hit you hard and fast. as here you were looking at this beautiful man in front of you. an angel in the flesh. and he was asking for your hand in marriage. what had you done in your past life to become so luck. and while he waited for a response. you leaned forward and kissed him. "is that an answer for you my prince?" you asked coyly. "plenty good princess"

anon , Jacaerys x red priestess reader where she's from the cult of R'hllor and came to be a close counselor to Rhaenyra, and they go to winterfell together

[rayroseu]

Now that I think about it, maybe the reason why Malleus' Magic is so powerful, because before he was born he was copiously sustained with powerful magicians like Meleanor, Maleficia, and Lilia.

The egg is born through love but only through magic can that egg finally hatch (that's where Lilia exhausted his magic). Maybe a fae's power is determined to how much magic can their parents "exhaust" in making them born(?).

So, essentially, His magic consists of the magic of powerful mages.

1) Meleanor (as his biological mother),

2) Maleficia (her magic was life support while he was incubated),

and 3) Lilia (who hatched him).

So when we fight Malleus, we are not just simply fighting "Malleus" himself, but rather a lethal culmination of Meleanor, Maleficia, and Lilia's raw power.

That's why it feels so impossible to defeat him because we're essentially fighting three powerful magicians at once, it's just in the form of "Malleus Draconia."

All these magicians have high-profile powerful magic, and all of them are faes too. I often assumed that Malleus was rich in magic because he's a Draconia but no, Meleanor used her full magical strength as well but the story didn't showcase her casting some world altering magic like stopping time and encasing human souls inside a magical barrier— Only Malleus did...

Maybe there's really no person who can defeat him as STYX theorizes... Not even Maleficia. While its true she's powerful, but based on this interpretation, she can fight Malleus, but fighting Malleus is also the same as fighting her magic, mixed with Meleanor's and Lilia's (and Levan's even though we don't know how powerful he is).

Levan is Malleus' father but so far the story doesn't imply nor mention any significant magical contribution he did to Malleus. The only thing mentioned in the story about Levan's influence was that Malleus is a kind/gentle person because of him.

I like to interpret he's powerful too! So maybe, its not just Meleanor, Maleficia, Lilia, but also Levan.... if he got the chance to bless Eggmalleus some magic before he lost. So its actually FIVE HIGH CLASS MAGICIANS were fighting against if we fight Malleus ☠️☠️ That's why he's truly "god-like".

I really like the fact that Malleus is undefeatable even by raw power or raw cleverness (like using technology). I know that's still going to be a big part, but its more intriguing for me to how TWST will handle stopping Malleus without obvious offense.

They'll only need to rely on one thing that humans are really great of practicing (more than faes): communication. Maybe the solution may be as simple as talking to Malleus that he needs to stop lol Because really, at this point, thats the most staple choice we have, anything else takes too much time💔😔

Not in the accusing way, but in a kind and understanding way. But, I know that's unlikely to happen knowing how "cringed" NRC is towards displaying kindness (which is often their downfall lol). But remember, the resolution at the fairy gala event? Where everyone was antagonizing the Diurnal Fairies, assuming they'll be stubborn and that they're thieves so they should take the stone without asking them, but then it turns out once they got caught and Silver talked with them apologetically and with understandingly, the Queen understood it and let the stone go...

Maybe Malleus would act like that Queen too?? After all, no one still talks with him about how "indeed, it is painful to suffer and lost, but there's merit in their existence, so we don't need to cut them out of our lives, because even those painful experiences helps us achieve our true dreams." or just a simple "You won't be alone even if Lilia passes away. I'm sure Lilia will be more happy to live his life and live it longer because he'll be remembered by Malleus even if he's just a memory now." or maybe a blunt "The world doesn't revolve around anyone, so Malleus has no rights to dictate how we should live our lives" lol

I feel like Malleus is just a person who never really thinks about other interpretations unless its been said to him... That's why I'm wishing that Book 7 resolves his overblot by not fully painting him as a "catastrophic dark fae" (like what the humans viewed Meleanor), like there'll be a balance between depicting him as a villain but also as a flawed person.

But yes I do agree that the biggest hurdle in defeating Malleus, may not just be his overpowered magic, but also his defiance in believing that he can understand humanity and humanity will understand him 😭😭

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets. 

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him. 

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you. 

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever.”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks. 

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight. 

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist. 

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever. 

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments. 

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there. 

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp. 

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck. 

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow. 

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside. 

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed. 

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner. 

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a melty snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen her?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word. 

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers. 

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face. 

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands.  A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before the another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?” 

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lighting upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them, that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself. 

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply Estelle had jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face. 

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said. 

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed. 

That was until he tried to lead Jason back to his cabin anyway, and your boyfriend had a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified while also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing, the little twig eyebrows on him drawn taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms. 

The lot around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly. 

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes. 

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity. 

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman. 

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know. 

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus. 

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side. 

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman. 

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.” 

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile. 

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew. 

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away. 

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer. 

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile. 

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than aweing. 

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thanks gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the herpes disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks. 

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.” 

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble, “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder. 

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away. 

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline. 

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye. 

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

[princesskenny1998]

Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x pureblood!Reader ~ Promised One

Growing up in a prestigious pureblood family, you had known Draco Malfoy almost your entire life. Both of your families were ancient and influential in the magical world, with histories that stretched back hundreds of years, and the arrangement between the Malfoys and your family had been made long before either of you could remember.

The first time you were introduced to Draco, you were only five, and he was a year older than you. You didn’t know it at the time, but you were both being introduced as future partners. Your parents had emphasized the importance of keeping family lines pure, maintaining the power of the blood, and protecting the family name. Draco had been told something similar by Lucius and Narcissa.

Summers became the time you were always forced together. Your family’s home in the Russian countryside had long, sunlit days that were spent mostly outside, exploring the gardens or playing games under the watchful eyes of your parents. At first, Draco had been something of a mystery to you. He was brash, opinionated, and seemed to take pleasure in teasing you. As you grew older, though, that teasing started to feel less like a childish bother and more like something... interesting.

One summer afternoon, when you were both thirteen, you were sitting on the grass beside a sprawling garden of enchanted white roses. Draco had just made a remark about your Russian accent, imitating it with a smirk on his face. You’d rolled your eyes, used to his teasing, and shot back a quick remark about his pronunciation of certain charms — a sore spot for him, considering how seriously he took his studies. He’d laughed, and you realized then that his teasing was almost affectionate, in a way.

When you reached fourteen, your parents’ efforts to push you together became even more obvious. They started planning more activities, often giving you time alone together in the expansive rooms of Malfoy Manor or your family’s home. At that age, you and Draco both understood the implications of your families’ plans for the future. You had moments where the idea of being tied to someone so arrogant grated on you. But there were also times when you looked at him and felt strangely comforted by the familiar presence.

One summer day, during the warm month of August, you found yourself in the sitting room of Malfoy Manor, watching Draco as he read a book on magical history. The air was thick and still, and you found yourself growing restless.

“Is this what we’re going to be doing every summer?” you asked, breaking the silence. “Sitting around, reading, waiting for our parents to tell us what to do next?”

Draco looked up from his book, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “What would you rather do, then?”

“Something exciting,” you replied with a slight grin, standing up and walking to the window. “Surely, with all the magic we have at our disposal, there’s something better than sitting around.”

He closed his book and stood up, crossing the room to stand beside you at the window. “I suppose we could explore the manor,” he suggested. “There are places even I haven’t been to.”

Intrigued, you agreed, and the two of you ventured into the depths of the manor, laughing as you slipped past portraits and explored hidden rooms. At one point, Draco dared you to go down a narrow, winding staircase that led to a shadowy room filled with dusty old relics from the Malfoy family’s past. The air was thick with mystery, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement.

When you turned to Draco, he was watching you with an intensity that caught you off guard. “What?” you asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he replied, but his gaze lingered, a small smirk playing on his lips.

As the years went by, your connection deepened. You saw each other’s flaws, yes — you knew he could be arrogant and quick-tempered, and he knew you could be stubborn and sharp-tongued. But there was a familiarity that came with growing up together, and it made you feel closer to him than anyone else.

During the school year, while he was at Hogwarts, letters became your main form of communication. He’d send brief notes, detailing his experiences at school, and you’d reply with stories of your own studies and family gatherings. There was something comforting in the routine of it, in knowing that you’d hear from him every few weeks.

Then came the summer of your sixteenth year. You arrived at Malfoy Manor, expecting the usual formal greetings and small talk with his parents, but instead, Draco was waiting for you in the gardens. He looked different — older, more serious. The playful smirk that you were so accustomed to seeing was gone, replaced by a somber expression.

“You’ve heard about what’s happening, haven’t you?” he asked quietly, once you were out of earshot of the others.

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. Voldemort’s return was no longer a secret, and the pressure on the Malfoy family was growing. “Yes. My family… they’ve spoken of it.”

For the first time, you saw a crack in Draco’s confidence. He looked away, his hands clenched at his sides. “It’s... complicated,” he admitted. “The expectations, the pressure. It feels like... I don’t have a choice.”

You stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Draco, I know. We were both born into this. But maybe... maybe we don’t have to follow the exact path they set for us.”

He looked at you, surprised. “You think so?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “There’s always a choice. And whatever happens, you won’t face it alone.”

In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you. Despite the weight of the expectations placed on both of you, there was a sense of unity, a feeling that you could face whatever came your way — together.

That summer was different from the others. Your interactions took on a new depth, a sense of shared struggle and understanding. Draco confided in you more than he ever had before, and you found yourself opening up to him as well. Late one night, as you sat in the library, he turned to you and said quietly, “You know, I used to think this arrangement was just... something our families imposed on us. But now…”

He trailed off, looking away, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Now?”

He met your gaze, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “Now, I think I’m actually glad it’s you.”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to fully acknowledge the feelings that had been growing inside you. This wasn’t just an arrangement anymore. It was real.

When Draco returned to Hogwarts that autumn, you felt the ache of his absence more than you ever had before. Letters came, but they were fewer, more guarded. You knew things were becoming more dangerous, that the world he was returning to was growing darker by the day.

One winter night, as you were reading by the fireplace, an owl arrived with a hurriedly scrawled note from Draco. His words were brief, but they conveyed a desperation you’d never seen before.

“They’re expecting things from me that I don’t think I can do,” he’d written. “I’m trying to protect my family, but it’s getting harder. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

You read his words over and over, your heart aching for him. You wanted nothing more than to be there, to offer him some comfort, but there was only so much you could do from afar. Still, you wrote back immediately, pouring as much reassurance and strength into your words as you could.

The next summer, when he returned to Malfoy Manor, you saw the toll the past year had taken on him. His face was pale, his posture tense, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. But when he saw you, some of the weight seemed to lift from his shoulders.

You spent long hours together, walking through the gardens, talking about everything and nothing. He confided in you more than ever before, sharing his fears, his regrets, his hopes for a future that seemed increasingly uncertain.

One evening, as you sat together under the fading light of the setting sun, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “I don’t know what the future holds,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I know I want you there, whatever happens.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling the truth of his words resonate deep within you. Despite the shadows that loomed over both of your families, despite the uncertainties that lay ahead, you knew one thing for certain: you wanted to face it all with him by your side.

In that quiet moment, under the soft glow of the twilight, you found solace in each other. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to hope — to believe that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could carve out a future of your own choosing.

[ms-snape]

hey I noticed you haven’t done any Lucius Malfoy fics yet, and I’d like to request one if you’re open to it, the reader is a strong-willed witch who doesn’t fall for his usual charm? Lucius is used to getting whatever he wants, but the reader constantly challenges him, and it intrigues him in a way no one else has. Over time, Lucius starts to realize that he’s genuinely falling for her, and there’s a slow-burn romance as they go from tension-filled encounters to mutual respect, then love. Lots of witty banter, hidden vulnerability from Lucius, and a surprisingly soft, romantic confession at the end.

Title: Charm

Warning: None, lucius being lucius

Words Count: 2000+

Masterlist

---

The Ministry of Magic was a labyrinth of enchantment and bureaucracy, a place where power dynamics shifted like the tides. Y/n Y/l/n, a strong-willed witch and a respected potion master in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, had learned to navigate its complexities with grace and determination. Her talent and hard work had earned her respect, but it was her unwavering spirit that truly set her apart.

As she walked through the bustling atrium, she could feel the gazes of her colleagues—some filled with admiration, others tinged with envy. Y/n had always found herself on the fringes, content to focus on her work rather than engage in the political machinations that often defined life at the Ministry. Yet, it was the whispers of a certain silver-blonde wizard that broke through her concentrated bubble.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Lucius Malfoy greeted her, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. He leaned casually against a pillar, the epitome of aristocratic elegance. “I must say, your dedication to your work is admirable. Most would have crumbled under the pressures of this place by now.”

Y/n glanced up, her brow slightly raised. “And yet here I am, standing tall,” she replied coolly, matching his tone. “Flattery won’t earn you any favors with me, Malfoy.”

“Flattery?” He chuckled softly, his icy blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I merely speak the truth. Your determination is commendable.”

Her heart raced as she held his gaze, the playful banter igniting something within her that she hadn’t expected. She had long since learned to see through his polished facade, understanding that behind the charm lay a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. But Y/n had never been one to succumb easily.

“Save your compliments for someone who might appreciate them,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m not interested in becoming another feather in your cap, Lucius.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by his usual composure. “Is that so? I find it refreshing, really. Most women seem eager to bask in my attention.”

“That says more about them than it does about you,” she shot back, walking past him with purpose. She felt the heat of his gaze on her back, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Days turned into weeks, and their encounters became a familiar rhythm, a dance of words and glances laced with underlying tension. Y/n would catch herself thinking of Lucius more often than she cared to admit. He intrigued her with his intellect, challenged her with his wit, and made her question her own perceptions of power and vulnerability.

Lucius, on the other hand, found himself drawn to her in ways he had never anticipated. The thrill of their verbal sparring ignited a fire within him, and he began to look forward to their encounters. No one else had dared to challenge him so boldly, and he found her spirit intoxicating. It was a contrast to the women he had known, who had often been content to admire him from afar.

One particularly dreary afternoon, Y/n found herself in the Ministry’s expansive library, surrounded by stacks of books as she searched for an elusive potion recipe. The dim light cast a warm glow over the dusty volumes, creating an atmosphere of quiet reflection. She was so engrossed in her task that she barely noticed Lucius approaching until she felt his presence beside her.

“Lost in thought again?” he asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

Y/n glanced up, suppressing a smile. “Just doing some research. What brings you here, Malfoy? Surely you have more important matters to attend to.”

He leaned against the table, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her. “I could say the same for you. Researching potions when you could be enjoying the finer things in life?” His smirk was infuriatingly charming.

“I enjoy what I do,” she replied defensively, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Not everyone needs the thrill of high society to find fulfillment.”

“Touché,” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes. “But wouldn’t it be better to have a little fun? Life is far too short to be buried in books, even if they are as fascinating as you make them seem.”

Y/n straightened, her eyes narrowing. “You mean the kind of fun that leads to empty flirtations and false promises? No, thank you. I prefer to keep my life meaningful.”

Lucius’s expression softened slightly, his facade slipping ever so slightly. “I admire your conviction, Y/n. It’s refreshing to see someone who knows what they want.”

Their eyes locked, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, a spark of something deeper than mere attraction. But she quickly quelled it, reminding herself of the walls she had built around her heart.

As weeks turned into months, their encounters grew more charged. Lucius began to seek her out more frequently, often finding reasons to linger near her office or cross paths in the halls. Each meeting was a mixture of tension and exhilaration, a game of verbal chess where neither was willing to yield.

One day, as they walked through the Ministry gardens during a rare moment of respite, the sun filtering through the leaves, Lucius turned to Y/n with a seriousness that caught her off guard. “You know, there’s more to me than what you see on the surface.”

She raised an eyebrow, curiosity piquing her interest. “Is that so?”

“Many view me as simply a wealthy, influential pureblood wizard,” he continued, his voice low. “But I’ve faced my share of struggles, Y/n. I’ve fought against expectations and the shadows of my past. It’s exhausting, and I wonder sometimes if anyone sees beyond the facade.”

Y/n felt a pang of empathy for him, understanding that beneath his charming exterior lay a man grappling with his identity. “I can relate to that,” she admitted softly. “I’ve often felt the weight of expectations myself. People assume they know me, but they rarely take the time to understand who I am.”

He paused, their eyes locking as a shared vulnerability lingered between them. “Perhaps that’s why I find you so compelling. You challenge me, push me to question who I am and what I truly want.”

“Is that what this is?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “A challenge?”

“Perhaps,” Lucius replied, a smile tugging at his lips. “But it’s more than that. I’m beginning to realize that I want to know you—really know you.”

Y/n’s heart raced, and she felt the heat of his gaze. “Lucius, this isn’t—”

“It’s not just a game,” he interjected, stepping closer. “I’m not asking for a fling; I’m asking for something real. I want to explore this connection we have, to see where it leads.”

His sincerity struck a chord deep within her, and for the first time, she felt the walls she had built begin to crumble. But fear still lingered, casting a shadow over her heart. “What if we ruin what we have?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we will face the consequences together,” he assured her, a determined gleam in his eyes. “But I’d rather take that risk than live a life filled with regrets.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer, the world around them fading away. Lucius’s heart raced, anticipation mingling with hope. He had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he knew he couldn’t walk away. Not now.

“Okay,” she said finally, her resolve wavering. “Let’s see where this takes us.”

With that, their relationship began a delicate transformation. They spent more time together, sharing moments both grand and intimate, navigating the complexities of their lives with newfound honesty. Y/n discovered layers to Lucius that no one else had seen—the thoughtful, introspective man hidden behind the mask of privilege and power.

In quiet moments, they would share laughter and stories, and Y/n found herself enjoying Lucius’s company more than she had ever imagined. He would often watch her with an intensity that made her heart race, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. In turn, Y/n began to see glimpses of vulnerability in Lucius, moments where he let his guard down and revealed the man he truly was beneath the polished surface.

But despite the growing bond between them, doubt occasionally crept in. Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucius was still bound by the expectations of his past, the weight of his family legacy hovering over them. It was a nagging thought that made her question the foundation of their connection.

One evening, while attending a Ministry gala, Y/n stood by the window, gazing out at the stars. The ballroom buzzed with laughter and conversation, but she felt out of place amidst the opulence. Lucius approached her, his presence grounding her in a way that soothed her insecurities.

“Why so pensive?” he asked, his voice a low murmur as he joined her at the window.

“I don’t belong here,” she admitted, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. “These people… they don’t see me. They only see my title, my work.”

Lucius turned to face her, a seriousness etched on his features. “You belong here just as much as anyone else, Y/n. You’ve earned your place through hard work and talent.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, sincerity resonating in his voice. “You have a strength that commands respect. I admire that.”

She felt warmth bloom in her chest, a flutter of hope igniting. “Thank you, Lucius. That means more than you know.”

He studied her for a moment, the weight of his thoughts hanging in the air. “There’s something I need to confess.”

Y/n’s heart raced as she sensed the gravity of his words. “What is it?”

“I’m falling for you, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice steady yet vulnerable. “In a way that I never thought I could again. It terrifies me because I know my past is complicated, but you make me want to be better.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart swell at his honesty. “Lucius…”

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone—not even Narcissa. You challenge me in a way that makes me want to shed my past and become someone worthy of you.”

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as she fought against the emotions flooding her heart. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either. You’ve surprised me.”

“Then let’s surprise each other,” he said softly, reaching for her hand. “Let’s build something real together.”

In that moment, the world around them faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of them and the connection that had blossomed between them. Y/n felt a surge of warmth as Lucius intertwined their fingers, a gentle yet firm grip that spoke volumes of his intentions.

“Okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s take this journey together.”

With their hearts laid bare, Y/n and Lucius stepped into a new chapter of their lives, one filled with uncertainty but also hope. They faced challenges head-on, navigating the complexities of their emotions and the scrutiny of those around them. Together, they forged a bond that transcended the expectations of their pasts, proving that love could flourish even in the most unexpected places.

As the seasons changed, so did their relationship. They shared stolen moments in quiet corners of the Ministry, laughter echoing in the hallways as they exchanged witty banter. Lucius began to show her the parts of himself he had long hidden, revealing his vulnerabilities and fears. Y/n, in turn, opened up about her aspirations and dreams, her passion for potions igniting new conversations between them.

One crisp autumn evening, as they walked through the vibrant foliage of the Ministry gardens, Lucius paused, his expression serious yet tender. “Y/n, I want to take this to the next level. You’re not just a challenge anymore; you’re the woman I want by my side.”

She stopped, her heart racing as she searched his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you, truly,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m ready to leave the past behind and build a future together.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes as his words washed over her, a wave of relief and joy flooding her heart. “Lucius, I… I want that too.”

In that moment, surrounded by the golden hues of autumn, they embraced their love fully, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them. Lucius brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze softening as he leaned closer. “Then let’s make it official.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confusion mingling with excitement.

Lucius smiled, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “I mean, I want you to be my partner in every sense. I want to show you off, to declare to the world that you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled with warmth, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a joyful sound that echoed through the garden. “I would like that very much.”

“Then it’s settled,” he declared, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. “Prepare yourself, Y/n Y/l/n, for a life filled with love, laughter, and perhaps a little mischief.”

And as they walked hand in hand, Lucius realized that he had finally found what he had been searching for—a love that was genuine, transformative, and utterly real. In Y/n, he saw the reflection of a future he had never dared to dream of, one where they could conquer the world together.

[peachesofteal]

I know you already have a plan for Gaz in the Faerie universe, but I just can't help sharing my own headcanon of him with you (sorry for how long this turned out)-

Kyle is just walking along the street when he senses it. It's barely there, like a kind of magic that hasn't been touched in years, but it's old, and any power that ancient is dangerous to ignore.

He almost misses it, really, the young girl walking past with her friends, but he sends a tendril of is own power out and- there it is. Something that stretches far back into her lineage, untouched within her lifetime, but undeniably there. It is so old he cannot even place it, an unusual occurrence after so many years studying different magics with his comrades.

His curiosity gets the better of him, and he follows you. Discreetly, of course, dispelling any suspicion by using a simple glamour. He follows you home, and finds-

nothing.

There are no spells or enchantments guarding your home, not even a glamour to deter unwanted guests. Such carelessness unheard of for any being of magic, in this world or any others.

Kyle snarls a bit. You have been left entirely defenseless, and he will not let that stand.

He stands watch that night. And as he does, he finds himself drawn to you. You have felt safe enough that you leave your curtains open foolish, he thinks to himself, even as he appreciates your form, your eyes, your smile.

He needs to know who and what you are.

The next morning, Kyle bumps into you, spilling your tea all over your white blouse. He feigns remorse, and insists on paying for it to be dry cleaned. He suggests that you exchange numbers, and you shyly agree- it is not often that such a handsome man asks to contact you, after all.

What you don't know, though, is that you have given Kyle information. He has your name, your number, and your address. He has spent enough years in this world, aiding in his brother's obsession, that he knows how to track someone down with less.

He does use your number to ask you out. Someone needs to keep you safe, after all, since you are apparently unable to do it yourself. And he finds that he enjoys your company. He adores how you share parts of yourself with him, unabashedly telling him about your hopes, your dreams, your fears.

And yet, though he now has your full name, he is baffled that it seems to hold no power over you.

The mystery only deepens when he meets your family. If they are part of your bloodline, then surely, one of them will have a clue as to what you are. And yet, he senses no trace of magic in your parents, or siblings.

The more dead ends he arrives at, the more intrigued he is. So he begins digging into human records, and that's where he finds it. Your sealed adoption record.

He has to call in every favor he has ever accrued in this world, but he eventually finds your birth certificate. The email arrives when Kyle is in your home, washing the dishes after you made him dinner.

A week later he enters the hospital where you birth mother resides. She's unwell, barely able to communicate. She's wizened- with her white hair and sunken eyes, a human would mistake her for being perhaps your great-grandmother, rather than mother. Her eyes meet his across the room, and it is clear- she knows what he is.

Kyle takes a seat across from her. She sniffs the air, and her lips pinch.

"You've been with my daughter, haven't you, Fae?" she spits the word out like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Kyle puts on his most charming smile, the one that makes you feel weak in the knees.

"That won't work on me, boy. I know better now. I don't trust pretty things."

He leans back, undisturbed. "Well, I think we're on rather even footing now, aren't we? You know what I am, and I know what you are." He meets her stare evenly, "and I know what your daughter is, too."

The face of your birth mother darkens. "You won't have her. Not really. Not fully. I took measures to keep her safe. No man- fae, human, or otherwise- will do to her what he did to me."

"Really?" Kyle's smile drops, and his face turns into something determined, almost nasty. "You think you protected her? She has no idea who she is, or what she's capable of. Don't you think that's dangerous, her ignorance of her powers?"

"She doesn't need to know! She has a family! She has a life! She can be happy if you just leave! Her! ALONE!"

If he didn't know better, he might think the woman across from him a banshee. As it is, Kyle keeps his features calm. "I already know her true name. The one you gave her. I can take her away from this place. But you know that there's something I need from you first."

"Never," she hisses at him.

Kyle sighs. "I didn't want it to come to this," he tells her, and reaches into his coat pocket. He would never admit it, but he feels a sense of satisfaction when he sees her eyes go wide with fear, what little color that was left in her face draining away completely.

"Now," he says, charming smile firmly back in place. "Tell me what I want to know."

~~~

He's careful about how he breaks the news to you- his world is entirely unknown to you. You, who grew up sheltered, away from the world of magic and powers that you belonged to by birthright. But he has long since grown weary of the human world, and he is impatient to have you in his own home.

So, after taking you to a beachside picnic, he kisses you gently on the forehead, and whispers, voice low, "I have something for you,"

"Mmm?" you murmur, afraid that if you open your mouth, you'll shatter the beauty of this moment.

Kyle reaches into the bag, and carefully pulls out the item he retrieved from the cove where your birthmother hid it.

You gasp when you see it, even though you're not sure why. It looks like a piece of brown fabric, but even before you touch it, it feels like home.

"This was stolen from you by your birth mother," Kyle explains, draping it around your shoulders. You clutch it to yourself, the feeling indescribable. You are at peace, but you feel more emotions than you have ever been able to name. It feels like the world has suddenly shifted into focus, like the mental fog in your brain has cleared for the first time in your life.

"Stolen? What-"

"Shh," he presses a finger to your lips. "I can explain it all to you, but not here."

"What do you mean, 'not here'? Kyle, what are you saying?"

He silences you with a kiss this time. "I'm not from this world, love. And you don't belong here, either. Please, will you let me show you who you are?" He looks at you, and you're hypnotized by his eyes, so clear, so earnest.

You should say no. This is crazy. You've been dating Kyle for months now, and he claims that he's from another world? Even if it were true, you have a life here. Family, friends, a career, a home-

But somehow, with your new coat making you feel sheltered and warm, none of that seems important. The only important things in existence are you and Kyle.

"Yes."

~~~

In case it wasn't clear, reader is a selkie. Her mother was a selkie who had her coat stolen and was forced to live as the wife of the man who stole her coat. Also, I further headcanon that in this universe, selkies are unique in that they can travel between the different realms without any spells, due to their nature as shifters. They are both human and seal, creatures of land and water, something that is both and at the same time neither.

Oh my god hello? Why is this in my inbox instead of artfully laid out on your own page? I love it. Love a good selkie story, and I loved how you started to build the lore immediately.

🩵

[blues824]

Hi there! I hope you don't mind if you have time to write my request about Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian with nb! or fem! reader as malleus?

What’s up, Anon? I put reader as having horns, but no other description is used.

Ciel Phantomhive

Her Royal Majesty had requested that he host you in the Phantomhive house. He didn’t want to let the Queen down, so he had his staff prepare for your arrival. By ‘his staff’, I mean Sebastian because there is no way that Mey-Rin, Bard, and Finny would be able to accomplish the tasks given to them.

Then you arrived. The most noticeable thing about you was your horns, but Ciel was not intimidated. He had a demon for a butler, after all. He showed you to the room where you would be staying, and you had a surprisingly friendly and polite demeanor. He left you to go get settled in, and went straight to his renowned butler to ask about you and your background.

The things he learned about you were pretty shocking, like how you were a dragon fae from a land called ‘Twisted Wonderland’. It sounded like something he would read about in a novel, not see in real-life. He wanted to get to know you personally, though, so he went to your room and invited you to a game of chess in his study.

Imagine his surprise when you managed to beat him at a board game that he thought he was invincible at. Your cunning mind really intrigued him, so he proposed that he take you around London as your prize. You agreed, and were very excited to see the city that you hadn’t had much of a chance to explore yet. You asked if there were any abandoned buildings or gargoyles, and he said there might be a few.

The excitement on your face as he led you around the streets of the city made him want you to stay so that he could continue bringing wonder to you. The look of happiness on your face when he brought you to an ice cream vendor to try some of the cold treat was one that he wished he could see forever.

Sebastian Michaelis

The young master had informed him that you would be staying at the Phantomhive Manor and he received orders to get the Manor ready. Sebastian, being Sebastian, wanted to make sure that everything was in pristine condition because there was no way that a member of a far away royal family would be housed in anything less than perfection, so he told each of the staff members to not touch anything.

When you arrived, he was standing right beside Ciel and greeted you by bowing and welcoming you to the Manor. Ciel told him to get your things to your room as he showed you around, and that’s when Sebastian noticed your horns. He knew that you weren’t a demon, as a demon typically doesn’t show any horns, so you must have been some other creature.

Well, as he finally led you to where you would be staying, he asked what sort of being you were. You really didn’t want to tell him, but you could feel the magic within him. He was sort of like you, so you felt as though he wouldn’t be scared of you. You told him that you were a dragon fae from a realm called Twisted Wonderland, and that you were the Crowned Heir to one of the many lands within said realm, Briar Valley. It was all very intriguing to the demon butler, as he had never been.

During your stay, it was rather unfortunate that he had so many chores to do when you wanted to talk to him. So, you offered to help him. He at first refused, saying that it would be very improper for a member of visiting royalty to do chores, but you told him that it would give you a normal person’s experience, something necessary for when you are crowned the reigning monarch. He smiled at the loophole, before handing you the rag that he was using to dust the library.

It allowed you both to get to know each other, but he never revealed what he was. You just knew that he wasn’t a human, and that no harm would come to you in his presence; not just because you are the most powerful mage in this world, but also because you are under the protection of Queen Victoria, who already sees you as another one of her children.

[thatneoncrisis]

Curious about your issues with the show!! I have my own ofc but always interested In more opinions

spoilers for like. all of the show el oh el

its hard for me to like. properly articulate on the fly but i think its primarily 1. a show that is genuinely trying to build a complicated structure out of the rusted metal and twigs that makes up LoL lore that gets overhauled every like, four years, so often times it feels like a character in arcane will get hard shafted out of a natural arc so they end up where they "should be" in accordance to their league counterpart.

strongest example i have off the dome is violet, where i think in act 1 of arcane shes a really intriguing and well crafted character whos sympathetic and has goals and values you can follow. and then they shunt her off to prison during the time skip and when she comes out shes like. everything she does from that point on just feels Tilted it feels like they gutted out all the parts that would have gotten me from A to Z wrt her going from scrappy kid in the lanes whos like. direct causes of terror and unhappiness in life were from enforcer. to a bitch who joins the enforcers. and its not that i dont think that turnaround is possible, i just dont think they articulated it well with such a truncated amount of episodes split between so many subplots

and then my main Thing 2. uuuh. this is more of like my own issues with this kind of story telling in general rather than an arcane specific issue that i will codify as "liberal progressives attempt to Both Sides the issue of apartheid in their magic story." the creators of the show emphasized that they wanted each character to be morally grey, differnt shades to them and the motivations contextualizing their actions. which is like, fair enough thats just good character writing but i dont think theyre particularly. great at that. especially when trying to marry it to my earlier point about how certain characters essentially have to invert to become their league analogs in some sense. also someone like ekko? not grey. hes just right? he doesnt fuck with enforcers and he doesnt fuck with the kingpin flooding the lanes with shimmer, he just wants to help the people suffering the most. stand up dude.

theres a lot of different levels to which this clashing between intent and execution falls flat for me in arcane but the one ill get into now is silco and vander. from an objective view its a classic story of two close brothers in arms driven apart by ideology/circumstance, weve seen it with professor xavier and magneto, it also reminded me of tchalla and killmonger although they dont have the childhood friends aspect going for them. but the point is its not like a unique idea. two people want to change the world for the better, one of them starts killing civilians about it, the first guy is like hey! maybe dont do that! epic fall out ensues.

and the story is cognizant of the fact that silco IS an antagonist: not just in the sense that he is opposing our protagonists goals, he sold out the children to the enforcers in the first act, he released shimmer onto zaun and keeps a stranglehold on the city with his circle of chem barons like he fucking sucks. and the whole time im watching im noting how his methods to "free zaun" are like, THE thing destroying it. the streets are rampant with nameless mutated homeless people hooked on shimmer he is directly responsible for. and i was kind of waiting for like. a shift within his circle. if that makes sense. obviously people like violet and ekko and caitlyn dont like him but they never did they dont have to be convinced, but to have someone who initially put all their trust into him as the guy to bring zaun into glory and then slowly have to reckon with the fact theyve propped up a mad man who has prioritized power in himself over the initial goal of liberating the city would have whipped ass.

and then it just didnt happen. theres this fascinating thing going on with silco where hes talking mad shit about the likes of vander, oh hes too softhearted, he will never do what it takes to truly ensure the safety and freedom of the lanes bc he cares too much about his damn babies. and then silco finds himself as caretaker of one of those babies. the show meticulously shows me how he cares for her, he softens for her, he lets her tinker in her silly cave all day and blow up cops with harley quinn bombs. so we have three main things to keep in mind with silco:

his primary stated goal is to free zaun from piltovers repressive rule.

his shimmer production is one of if not The thing actively destroying the lanes

he now has Baby, whos safety has become a growing priority for him.

this culminating in the finale where he is presented with the opportunity to hand her over to the authorities in exchange for zauns independence. now THIS could have been a really interesting internal dilemma for him. he is now faced with the exact choice that led vander to becoming "weak" in his eyes. whats one girls life in exchange for his dream finally becoming a reality. but its also an impossible thing to ask because thats his Daughter. so now hes risking scrutiny from his underlings for being wishy washy. ooh intrigue mystery. youd really need some time to steep on his agonies and what hes really willing to prioritizeat this point in his life

and then none of that happens bc hes immediately kidnapped and shot and never has to seriously consider it. he never has to SACRIFICE he always just. has everything he wants. forever. until he dies. powerful chem baron running the show with his army of teen supersoldiers.

another route i considered them being able to do is something more focused on him and sevika. she left vander to join his cause specifically bc she thought vander was weak. as his right hand, she would do anything for silco, including literally giving up her fucking arm when she saved him from the blast in act one. timeskip, now we see she has a fun new mech arm powered by silcos own shimmer, which we are shown the side effects of time and time again. i thought this was leaning into a metaphor about how her emotional dependence on him and his cause was being represented by a chemical dependence on shimmer. like its destroying her physically and mentally but she NEEDS it to work out to know it wasnt all for nothing so shell put up with whatever sketchy bullshit hes got going on, the ends justify the means. and we get like six detailed shots of shimmer being pumped directly into her body i thought for sure they were gonna be like oh this is fucking killing her, like a compound v situation

but shes like. fine. theres no side effects besides a cool scar. shes chilling.

i also thought her antagonistic dynamic with jinx was going somewhere. like if sevika noticed that silco was putting her above what needed to be done for the sake of liberating zaun, and noticing how it mirrored how vander became "weak" and getting that much more pissed about playing second fiddle to a 17 year old. like imagine you get that whole scene where sevika makes it look like shes gonna execute silco, then murders the chem baron who asked her to do it because she trusts him THAT much, then later she hears about jayce's offer to silco and sees him GENUINELY considering leaving the offer on the table JUST for jinx. sorry if i was her id snap. id go crazy id start a coup.

so basically what im saying is. lotta different options to make the characters richer and more grey as they struggle with what they really care about. but the story just kind of shuffles past them and then insists that the bonds were there the whole time you guys jinx and sevika are totally besties now shes a symbol of zaun <3

[queenstarlight2]

Please do an imagine for Feren; if you need an idea how about the reader being a nymph and helps heal Greenwood so he so yandere because they are perfect in his eyes. btw I love your writing! and I'm so happy your back!! 💕

What a creature (2K)

Feren the military captain, departed with a group of his trust-elven warriors group to investigate a disturbance at the edge of his king’s kingdom.

Upon arrival at the scene, Feren the leader encouraged his trusted elven warrior's group to tread lightly until they figured out what was going on.

As the group approached cautiously, Feren’s elf eyes could make out someone in the distance. Feren signaled for his soldiers to stop while carefully moving ahead toward the stranger alone. As he approached, he was struck by the stranger’s striking beauty seemingly young, delicate appearance.

Feren was taken aback by the stranger's ethereal and otherworldliness, he was captivated by her presence. He couldn't help but approach her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He came to a halt a few feet in front of her before speaking with a soft and gentle tone.

"Who are you?"

As Feren observed the stranger more closely, he noticed a faint aura of otherworldliness surrounding her, and as he turned to his surroundings, he realized she was using magic of some kind to heal the damaged and infected areas of Mirkwood forest. Taken aback by this, Feren couldn't help but take another step back before he spoke again.

"What… What are you doing to my king's forest?"

Feren's expression shifted between caution and awe as he observed the woman's actions. He didn't know if she was friend or foe, but something about her didn't seem threatening, and he was intrigued. He studied her further and noticed that she was much younger than he had first thought, perhaps even younger than he was, but her magic held a certain undeniable power.

As Feren stood before the young girl, his initial caution slowly melted away, replaced by a growing curiosity and fascination. Seeing the magic that she wielded, even to undo some of the damage to his king's precious forest, he also felt a strange sense of attraction towards the girl.

The more he thought about it, the more he found himself entranced by her. He could feel an unfamiliar fluttering in the pit of his stomach and butterflies in his chest as he looked at her.

After a few moments of awkwardly standing there staring at each other, the girl finally spoke up. Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, and there was a tinge of nervousness in it. The girl nervously played with a strand of her ethereal hair, trying to avoid eye contact with Feren. "I-I'm sorry," she said, her tone gentle. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just trying to heal some of the damage here in the forest."

Feren's initial stiffness melted away as the girl spoke up. He noticed her nervous mannerisms, the way she avoided eye contact and the gentle tone of her voice. Rather than feeling threatened, he found himself oddly enamored. He took a step closer to her, his expression softer and more attentive.

He held up a hand to stop his soldiers from interfering and gestured for them to stay back. He then turned his focus back to the girl. "It's alright," he assured her gently. "You didn't frighten me. I was just… surprised."

He took another step forward, standing directly in front of her now. He couldn't help but find himself captivated by her ethereal beauty. Her gorgeous hair, her delicate features, and the aura of magic surrounding her all seemed to draw him in. Despite her youth, she radiated a power that intrigued him. He chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're just a young girl. Where did you come from? And how do you have such magic at your disposal?"

The girl's nervousness seemed to slightly ease as Feren spoke to her with a gentle, non-threatening tone. She mustered up the courage to answer his questions, but her voice still held a hint of shyness.

"I-I'm not just a young girl," she replied, her voice soft and delicate. "I'm a nymph. We are… magical beings, connected with nature. My magic allows me to heal and maintain the balance of the forest."

Feren's eyes widened in surprise at her revelation. Nymphs were elusive creatures, living in harmony with nature and possessing powerful magic. For one to be in Mirkwood forest was both intriguing and unexpected. He took another step forward, his tall, muscular frame towering slightly over her petite form. There was a mix of fascination and caution in his expression, as if suddenly aware of the potential power she held. "A nymph…" he repeated, almost incredulously. "I've never met one before."

He took a moment to study her more closely, his gaze roaming over her slight form, the soft features of her face, and the strange markings on her arms. Seeing the magic aura surrounding her, he realized he was in the presence of something extraordinary. Involuntarily, he found himself taking yet another step closer to her. He was now standing mere inches away from her, almost as if pulled by an invisible force. He tried to maintain his composure, but there was something about her that was irresistibly attractive to him…

Feeling drawn to the nymph, Feren couldn't help but find himself wanting her to stay nearby. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he offered a proposition to her, his voice gentle yet firm. "You seem to have a unique power, a connection to the forest itself," he said, his eyes never leaving her face. "Perhaps you could… come back with us? We could provide you with food and lodging in the kingdom of Mirkwood."

As Feren gazed at the nymph before him, he felt his heart skip a beat. The way she stood there, her slight frame and delicate features, the soft magic aura surrounding her… all of it was irresistibly charming to him. Against his will, his eyes involuntarily softened and his expression turned somewhat sentimental as he looked at her. He took in a breath, his heart fluttering in his chest, and fought the urge to reach out and touch her.

As the nymph smiled gently, Feren found himself completely and utterly smitten with her. Her sweet smile and shy demeanor only served to fuel his growing attraction to her. His thoughts began to spin with possessive thoughts, and a hint of obsession started to grow inside of him. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving her face as he spoke in a soft, somewhat desperate tone. "Please… will you come with us? I'll make sure you have everything you need, a safe place to stay, anything…"

He took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between them. His eyes searched her face, taking in every delicate feature. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and keep her safe and nearby, where he could protect her and indulge in her presence. His mind was filled with protective and possessive thoughts, a need to have her close and keep her for himself. But he did his best to keep it hidden, maintaining a facade of politeness and restraint.

The moment the nymph agreed to come back to Mirkwood with Feren and his patrol group, his heart practically leaped out of his chest. He couldn't believe his luck, that this incredible creature would now be staying nearby where he could see her every day. As he silently celebrated, his thoughts spiraled into admiration and fixation. He couldn't help but think that she was perfect, a being who could heal Mirkwood forest and his own soul with her mere presence.

As they began the journey back to Mirkwood's kingdom entrance, Feren found himself walking beside the nymph, his eyes often sneaking glances toward her. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of her every move, every sound she made, and every word she said. They walked in silence for a moment before Feren finally spoke up, his voice soft and filled with admiration. "So… um, can I ask your name, little nymph?

She smiled, and spoke kindly to him"I'm afraid my name is a very intimate matter, only for lovers"

The nymph's response left Feren's heart racing. It was a custom that nymphs only give their names to their lovers, a sign of deep intimacy and intimacy. An intimate secret. Feren couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions at that revelation. A part of him wanted to earn the privilege of having her name, to earn her trust and affection. He fought to keep his composure, trying to remain polite as he replied. "I understand… But how shall I address you then?"

The nymph shrugged slightly, her reply both teasing and soft. "You can call me whatever you like," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Feren's mind instantly began to race with possibilities, different pet names and affectionate terms swirling in his head. Each one felt so intimate, so personal… It took all his restraint not to blurt one of them out right then and there.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice as he spoke again. "How about… sweetheart?" he suggested, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue. He glanced at her, waiting for her reaction, hope and anticipation in his eyes.

The nymph chuckled softly, a hint of bashfulness in her voice. "Sweetheart, is it?" she teased, a small smile on her lips. "I suppose it will do, for now at least." Feren let out a quiet exhale, relief and excitement flooding him. As they continued their journey and finally reached the halls of Mirkwood, he couldn't stop stealing glances at her, her every word and gesture sending a thrill through his body.

As time passed, the nymph's magic worked its wonders, slowly healing the infected areas of Mirkwood forest. Feren couldn't help but witness her incredible abilities, further fueling his admiration and fascination for her. With each passing day, Feren found himself falling more and more in love with the nymph. His thoughts were increasingly consumed by her, his heart swelling with an irrational yet intense affection. He yearned for her presence, for her smile, for her touch… For her to be his and his alone.

He began to make subtle changes to ensure her safety and comfort. He assigned his most trusted guards to discreetly watch over her and keep her from harm. He also made sure to frequently check in on her, his presence never far away. He took every opportunity to talk to her, to listen to her, to soak in her presence. His thoughts became increasingly possessive, his infatuation spiraling into an obsessive need to keep her close. The thought of her being with someone else, of her leaving Mirkwood… was unbearable to him.

As his infatuation continued to grow, Feren knew that he wanted to make the nymph's heart his. He began to slowly court her, using any opportunity he had to impress her and show her his affection. He would take her on secret walks through a part of the forest that was especially beautiful at night, he would bring her gifts like rare flowers and shiny stones, and he would engage in long conversations with her, learning everything there was to know about her.

He was never pushy or demanding, though. He knew that winning her affection would take time, and he was patient with her. He was happy just being around her, observing her, listening to her soft voice. But he was also acutely aware of his desires, of the possessive need that burned within him to claim her as his own.

As the days passed, Feren's patience was rewarded one evening when the nymph finally told him her name. The act was a sacred one, signifying her acceptance of him as a lover. Hearing her name, a feeling of utter elation and triumph washed over him. He repeated her name quietly, as if committing it to memory. He didn't want to forget it, ever. He knew now that he was one step closer to having her heart completely.

As the days turned into weeks and months, Feren and the nymph grew increasingly closer. Their love blossomed, becoming a beautiful bond that only grew stronger with time. Feren had always been protective and possessive of the nymph, but now that she had accepted him as her lover, his feelings only deepened. He vowed to always keep her happy, safe, and by his side. Their love story continued a tale of affection and devotion amidst the lush forests of Mirkwood.

[sealixirfairytales]

TWST OC Based on my Anansi! :) Because the image's writing are small, here it is: Age: 17 Best Subject: Alchemy Birthday: November 18 Class: Second Year Club: Board Game Club Height: 172 cm Hobby: Telling riddles and stories, weaving intricate illusions Homeland: Afterglow Savannah Likes: Trickery, puzzles, stories Dislikes: Arrogance, hypocrisy, getting tangled in his own webs

Unique Spell: “Spider’s Whisper” – Plant a single thought, suggestion, or rumor in someone’s mind. It’s a subtle nudge rather than outright mind control, and the thought can be shaken off with enough willpower or suspicion. This power is especially potent in crowded areas, where rumors can spread quickly before anyone realizes who started it.

Anson is known for his sharp wit and his knack for riddles and stories. He often speaks in metaphors or gives half-truths, leaving others guessing at his intentions.

He uses tricks and schemes but tends to target those who are arrogant or hypocritical, teaching them humility or a lesson in perspective. His pranks have a habit of turning out “educational” in unexpected ways.

Anson is skilled at gathering information through stories and social connections. He’s the kind of person who knows all the secrets around campus and has contacts in every dorm—though getting him to share anything useful requires either clever negotiation or a clever enough riddle.

Anson is adept at thinking on his feet, adjusting his schemes as needed. He’s known to make use of unexpected resources.

Anson has a friendly rivalry with Azul, as both are adept at reading and manipulating others. However, Anson’s chaotic, mischievous nature contrasts with Azul’s more calculated approach. Anson might tease Azul for being too “predictable,” while Azul respects Anson’s skill but finds his unpredictability frustrating.

Anson has friends across the dorms, especially with characters like Ruggie and Floyd, who appreciate his humor and antics. He’s also intrigued by Leona, who he views as a “lion who needs humbling,” though he’d likely avoid getting on Leona’s bad side unless he had a clever scheme in mind.

Anson is amused by RSA and finds its students a bit too self-righteous, haugthy and/or naive. He occasionally sneaks over to cause harmless mischief, leaving confusing riddles or stories that RSA students believe are signs or prophecies.

Voice Lines • Login: “Heh, you’re back? Ready for another story, or did you want me to spin a web of mysteries for you today?” • Friendship: “A friend is just another kind of challenge, y’know. Make sure you’re clever enough to keep up with me.” • Battle Victory: “Caught like flies! Too easy. Who’s next?” • Unique Magic: “Ah, whispers in the wind, thoughts that linger. Let’s see where this thread leads…Spider's Whisper!”

His inspiration, Anansi the spider god:

[sharpedgedfool]

i fucking love your monster au design for shadow could we have some lore abt him? (if you want to :])

Apologies for the essay I'm about to drop for your ask jddfgsdkgf, but here's a sketch as a peace offering and I'll drop all the lore I have for you under the read more! Glad people are interested in it cause I'm currently obsessed with it lmao

OK so basically Eggman in this universe is still the mad doctor type, he’s just obsessed with the occult instead of robotics. He’s a mortal human but hunts monsters for experiments and he’s obsessed with gaining supernatural powers to rule the world, and Sonic and Amy with their usual group are his main enemies.

He has a big following of humans (who think he’s trying to save them from monsters) and a rather large army of other monsters who work for him - so he has a ton of resources despite being a 'regular dude', and he’s slowly collecting spellbooks and teaching himself magic.

He finds a rare grimoire, and it unlocks a treasure trove of dark magics. Now his big master plan is to summon a demon to serve him and gain ultimate power, to do this he needs the seven emeralds for the ritual.

Sonic and Amy are the main hero duo in the story, Sonic was cursed with lycanthropy as a child when a pack attacked his village, he was spared because he was young, and went to find a witch in hopes of a cure. The witch he found was Vanilla, her daughter Cream, and Amy who is her apprentice. Before Sonic could be cured he made friends with a few other cryptids who live in the same woods and in the end decided he’d rather stay cursed with them as he had nowhere else to go anyways. He’s not in a traditional pack (all were-creatures) instead they have a rag-tag group with all kinds of different monsters that live with the witches (Tails and Knux are in there somewhere I promise jkfgdhdf). He likes having the werehog strength so he can fight back and protect his new family.

Rouge is a born Vampire, not turned. Her parents were killed at some point and she took over their coven after she avenged them and proved herself worthy. She’s like the Queen of sorts and rules over a majority of the vampires across the world - she has eyes (and ears) everywhere, there's very little she doesn’t know about. So Sonic and Amy ask her for help when they realise Eggman’s planning something big. She has a huge hoard of gems locked up in a big spooky cliffside castle, she’s obsessed with treasure still. She agrees to aid them to overthrow Eggman in exchange for the seven emeralds for herself. She doesn’t want to use them for their power, so they agree.

Everyone teams up to find the emeralds first, but Eggman outsmarts them, and the ritual begins before they can stop him, and once it’s begun it’s irreversible. The only thing they can do at this point is change who the demon is bound to, so Sonic throws himself into the curse (he already has one after all).

Shadow is the demon that’s summoned. Typical demon pacts imply that he’ll do whatever the summoner asks, granting them ultimate power, but he’ll get their soul in return. The catch is if Sonic never asks him to do anything, he’s technically not indebted and Shadow won't get his soul. It’s a game of temptation, but since Sonic was technically an unwilling participant, Shadow's more intrigued than anything - he’s confident Sonic will eventually cave and ask him for something (they always do) so he doesn’t attempt to trick him, he sees no need.

Sonic now has a demon chained to him constantly, and he’s extremely on guard (demons are as powerful as creatures get in this universe) and he’s off put by how genuine Shadow comes across. Shadow asks a lot of questions, and Sonic assumes he’s doing it to learn how to manipulate him - Shadow finds it amusing. Eventually they get used to each other, Shadow and Rouge get along well (though they both tease Sonic mercilessly together so he tries to avoid her but Shadow will nag him to visit) Amy tries to work on a spell to break the bond between them but it's a notoriously hard spell to break (perhaps impossible as they destroyed the grimoire in the fight with Eggman), but eventually Sonic and Shadow are both unsure if they want it to be broken at all…

Sonic starts asking Shadow questions too, and finds out more about Shadow. Originally he was an angel - thousands of years ago he had a mortal friend (Maria) and the two of them were inseparable. Unlike demons, angels rarely interact with the world so her village mistook her good fortune as witchcraft and assumed Shadow to be a demon. They killed her over it, and Shadow was heartbroken - in a fit of rage he lashed out, wiped out their town and proved to them he could be the demon they thought he was. He became a fallen angel, scorned and bitter - not born of pure evil but clearly capable of carnage all the same.

Unlike hellborn demons, Shadow doesn’t enjoy mindlessly committing atrocities - he has to feel it’s a necessary evil or he’ll turn it on his summoner (this makes him dangerous to summon, he’s normally considered off-limits). He’s one of the more powerful demons but he’s hard to reason with to make it worth it. Eggman targeted him specifically because he thought Shadow would side with him as Maria was a distant ancestor of his.

Once the annoyance of being forcefully summoned wears off,  Shadow’s rather pleased Sonic isn’t trying to use him for anything - he’s secretly happy to have someone with decent morals to hang out with (he’s an outcast in hell for obvious reasons) but he’d refused to make mortal contact with anyone willingly after Maria for fear of resigning them to a bad fate all over again.

Again thank you for reading!! I'll have more art to share soon!! :)

[m-jelly]

Requested:

Levi x reader + Narnia (base?/theme? from the three movies) 😊😅

I know the Narnia books and movies. I can work with this! Normally I don't do movie or tv or book inspired, but I know this and I can make it Royal AU with magic easily!

Another land with love

Levi x fem!reader

Royal AU, magic AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, villain Levi is actually the good guy, becoming a couple, Narnia inspired.

In your attempt to flee your terrifying partner, you climb through a closet and end up in a new world. You're soon captured by Count Levi Ackerman whom you're warned is evil. During your time with the Count, the two of you fall in love, discover your powers and learn the Queen is the true villain.

Warning, this is a long one because I was given too much free rein on this! It wasn't a scene. Sorry it's a tad long, I tried to cut it down. This has two parts to it.

@ladycheesington @darkstarlight82 @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @nyxiieluna

@li-anne @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

@searriously

Panic consumed your very soul. The heat from your heavy breathing wrapped around you as you tried to stay quiet inside the closet. Tears stung your eyes as terror took over. Your body was working overdrive listening to anything. Fight and flight were kicking in.

As your partner's footsteps got closer to the room you were hiding in, you knew that he'd find you and beat you. So, you wiggled further back into the closet and felt cold air. Intrigued and hopeful that this could be your way out, you turned and shoved your way through the musty clothes towards the coldness.

Musty old clothes soon turned into rough pine branches covered in snow. Pain shot through your feet as you ran through thick snow, you were not wearing the clothes for this kind of weather but you would rather face a bitter winter than what was behind you.

It was like the trees were trying to help you be free because there was a push behind them. Eventually, you flung your body out of the treeline and slammed against the snow. With the momentum of your efforts, you rolled down the hill and smacked into a post of a fence lining a road.

You lay there for a while as you let the tears run down your cheeks, you were fed up with everything. After crying for a bit you pushed yourself up and started following the road until you noticed lanterns and a town in the distance. You needed to find someone to help you out.

As you shook from the bitter cold air you noticed posters about the dreaded Count, to be careful of him and to inform the Queen of any and all of his activities. Count Levi Ackerman seemed handsome from the drawing, but you knew better than to have anything to do with bad men again.

You stumbled into an empty tavern and over to the keeper. "H-Hello. I a-ah, need help."

He stared at you. "You're not from here."

You shook your head. "I came here through some weird doorway." You shivered. "I don't know what's happening."

He hurried around to you and guided you to the fireplace. As soon as he sat you down, he wrapped a blanket around you. "I'll get you something warm to drink."

"Th-thank you."

The keeper sat with you and explained you were in a snowy land called Paradis which was ruled by a kind Queen, but rumours are spreading that she might be causing the long winter. He informed you that Count Levi was the Queen's rival, he'd been raiding lands and taking it for his own. All people who use magic are with the Count.

It was clear the more this man talked, the more there was disgust and dislike for anyone with magical abilities. The Queen had linked magic to the Count and therefore all magical people and things were bad. The more he spoke the more uncomfortable you were becoming because you had come here by magic.

He stared at you. "Are you magical?"

You gripped your drink. "No. Magic doesn't exist in my world."

"But you came here by magic."

You put the cup down and held your hands up. "I'm not magical."

He stared at your hands to see a light pink light dance around your hands. "Filthy blood! You're a magus!"

You stood up. "I'm telling you, I'm not from this world. I don't use magic."

He grabbed your upper arm and dragged you out of the tavern. "You're all the same! Disgusting magus!"

You screamed when he threw you hard out of his tavern and against the muddy road. "Ow!"

"You belong in the mud! You pig! MAGUS! MAGUS!"

"Tch, oi?" Both you and the tavern owner looked at a man sitting on a black horse wearing a thick black cloak, black clothes under, black undercut hair and the most devilishly handsome face. "Watch your mouth."

The tavern owner shook. "Th c-count!"

You watched him trip up his stairs and fall into his tavern and lock it. A shiver ran through you as you felt the Count's eyes bore into you. You turned your head and gazed at him only to see his gaze was not of rage or disgust, but something rather soft. Never in all your years has a man ever looked at you like that before.

He jumped off his horse and strolled over to you. "So, you're a magic user and by the looks of you, you're not from this world."

You gulped hard. "I fell into this world through a doorway. Please, don't make me go back."

He crouched next to you and felt his cheeks heat up at how pretty you were. "You must be frozen and scared." He pulled his thick cloak off and wrapped it around you before scooping you up into his strong arms. "Tell me, why do you fear going back?"

"There's only pain. A man is waiting who claims he loves me."

"He hurt you?"

You nodded. "Yes."

Levi gripped you tightly. "I won't let you go back." He sat you on his horse before climbing up and holding you. "I'm Count Levi Ackerman."

You gave your name. "Thank you for your cloak, but aren't you cold?"

"I use fire magic, I'm fine." He looked down at you and thought you looked adorable. "Rest, I'll take care of you and bring you somewhere safe."

You admired Levi's cold beauty. "O-Okay."

He held you close and activated his power causing you to feel a gentle warmth coming from him. He wasn't sure who you were, or where you came from but when he looked into your eyes he saw a connection with you. The two of you were bound in some way, and he felt a need or desire to take care of you.

He glanced down at you as his horse walked and saw you were clinging to him and asleep. He smiled softly and enjoyed the contact with you.

It'd been a few weeks since you'd arrived at Levi's manor. Everyone had cared for you and treated you like you were the Countess of the home. Levi treated you as if you were his darling love. He was so kind and attentive to your needs.

Magic lessons with Levi were fun, he was teaching you how to embrace your newfound abilities. You listened to every word he said and in return, he listened to you about your world. Levi was fascinated by your world and all the cleaning products you had access to.

The way Levi gazed at you, talked to you and smiled at you made you think he possibly had feelings for you. As the weeks passed, he started bringing you gifts that brightened your day. Some of you hoped he cared for you like you cared for him.

You reached out and watched a huge oak tree grow from the earth from your pink magic. You marvelled at how big and brilliant it was. "I can't believe I can make something like this."

Levi stood behind you and ran his hand down your arm stretched out. "You are brilliant. I've never seen this kind of magic before. You're almost as powerful as me. I believe if we work together we can stop the Queen."

You turned and faced Levi as he played with your hand and caressed your cheek. "I hate that everyone has you wrong." You leaned into his touch. "You're a good man who is misunderstood."

"I'm happy as long as you understand me."

Your cheeks heated up. "I need to ask you something."

"You can ask me anything."

You let out a shaky sigh. "I need to know how you feel."

He tilted his head. "How do I feel? I feel okay."

You shook your head a bit. "N-Not that, b-but I'm glad you're okay."

He released you and stepped back as he called your name.

You panicked a bit. "I-I'm sorry, I w-won't ask!"

He called your name again. "You can ask me anything. I was just moving back because look."

You lifted your head to see flowers everywhere and Levi was covered in them too. You gasped a bit and felt your heart race. "Ah, s-sorry."

He smiled. "It's beautiful. You must be feeling something good."

You stared at him and admired his smile, which only caused more flowers to grow around him and little lights of pink to float around him. "Levi?"

He looked over at you as some light landed on his finger. "I'm in love with you."

You gasped. "H-huh?"

He blushed hard. "S-sorry, but I just felt so compelled to say how I felt." He approached you. "It's true though." He held your hands. "I hope you feel the same way."

You nodded shyly. "I do. I love you too. I was going to ask you if you care for me, but now I have my answer."

Levi pulled you against him. "May I kiss you?"

You whined a little. "You may, but I will warn you if you do you might be swallowed up by flowers."

Levi chuckled and held you against him. "I'm willing to take the risk. Besides, I might end up surrounding you with my flames."

You gasped when fire danced up your arms. "Warm."

He leaned closer and spoke against your lips. "They won't hurt you. They're gentle like I am with you."

Before you could answer him, he pressed his lips against yours and hummed in happiness. The heat between the two of you was addictive. The two of you clung to each other as the kiss deepened. More flowers grew and combined with Levi's flame abilities causing big, bright and dazzling flame flowers to grow around the two of you.

Levi pulled back from your lips and sighed. "Better than I imagined."

You giggled. "Yeah, you're right."

"I think you're my soulmate." He groaned a bit. "Tch, that sounded so cheesy."

You cupped his face and kissed him. "I think we are, soulmates that is."

"I'm glad you feel the same way."

You nibbled your lip and noticed the flowers. "We made flowers together."

He held you close and looked at the flowers you mentioned. "They're...wow...incredible."

[yanderes-galore]

Enki Ankarian (Fear and Hunger) with a priest reader Romantic/Platonic 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

I haven't actually written for Enki yet, so here's my attempt :)

Yandere! Enki Ankarian with Dark Priest! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Religious themes, Dark themes, Manipulation, Protective/Possessive behavior, Necromancy, Blood, Death, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Enki is a soul who craves knowledge.

The reason he came to the dungeons was to learn due to his nature as a Dark Priest and someone with the Enlightened Soul.

Enki's antisocial and probably didn't even speak with his fellow priests often unless it was to learn or perform rituals.

He's frail yet rude and closed-off compared to the rest of the main cast.

He's confident in his skills, that being magic and intelligence.

As a result, when you meet him he may seem arrogant to the average person.

Enki didn't expect to meet anyone in the dungeons except for Le'Garde.

Yet when he's drawn to one of the libraries in the dungeons to investigate the ritual circle there and learn more from the books... he meets you.

Enki doesn't get close to people.

He keeps relationships with others, especially in these dungeons, as partnerships to benefit from.

It's never usually personal.

Enki pauses when he sees a fellow priest in front of him.

He's indifferent at first until he sees you seated by the ritual circle while reading a book.

You were most likely reading about certain rituals to call upon the gods for power or insight in these dungeons.

Not wanting to be a threat, and possible wanting to learn from you, Enki greets you.

At first the interaction is tense.

You look at him like you aren't sure if he exists.

Yet soon you snap out of it and ask about him.

"Oh, yet another priest tempted by forbidden knowledge, I see? How intriguing... care to join me? That is... unless you're foe more than friend."

After your original tense attitude between each other... you two soon become rather amiable in the library.

Enki is hesitant as he's learning everything's dangerous in this place.

But soon he sees you as not a threat in this place.

In fact, you're another way he can get closer to enlightenment with all your knowledge.

Enki would get along with you as a fellow priest for the most part due to your shared desire to learn more.

His first few encounters with you are... mixed.

He loves combing through books of spells and gods with you.

Limitless power... limitless magic... limitless knowledge.

He likes your shared goals yet is still closed-off enough to not consider you anything more than an acquaintance.

Enki's obsession speed is probably the slowest out of the main characters.

He takes a long time before considering you close to him, even if you are a fellow priest.

He just... isn't used to such connections.

He's used to going against morality, he's used to taboo.

He prioritizes necromancy and blood magic... Which makes me think, out of all the main cast, he could do horrendous things to get what he wants.

If he felt obsessed with you, which he eventually will be, there's probably nothing he wouldn't do.

You being a fellow priest seeking knowledge may actually speed up his obsession speed more than anything else.

He finds himself seeking you out in the dungeons to see what you've learned.

It's transactional, often giving each other gifts to help one another out.

Yet... Enki finds himself enjoying your presence more than he thought.

Usually with others he finds speaking to them... irritating.

Although, your conversations with one another have often involved sharing knowledge.

So that's most likely why he enjoys your presence.

He likes your presence enough to invite you deeper into the dungeons, searching for answers and knowledge together.

By the end of your shared journey... he may not even let you part from him.

He's frail yet together you two can handle yourselves with destruction and restoration spells.

Enki feels... flattered when you offer him scrolls or books to peak at.

He was originally going to learn more alone...

But now he can't help but feel anxious when you're not in sight.

Subconsciously he finds himself... protective of you.

He isn't quite sure why... but perhaps he does resent the idea of you getting hurt.

Although, if anything really did happen... who's to say he doesn't just bring you back with a ritual and incantation.

Such a thing definitely would come into play later.

He's so determined to reach enlightenment that he can't see your... hesitation.

You're on edge due to the sights you've seen, the spells you cast taxing on the mind.

In fact, it wouldn't be surprising if Enki's obsession started getting worse due to low mind.

The more spells Enki casts, the more deranged he gets due to the nature of it.

Enki's used to it, knowledge comes with a cost.

Yet as he loses his mind, he finds himself clinging to you.

He keeps you close and whispers about how you're both so close.

Soon... you both can learn all there is to offer in this world.

As you go deeper, you feel more on edge.

You knew the risks, you already knew going this deep comes with a cost...

But Enki keeps getting worse.

He keeps dragging you along, refusing to let you leave.

You can't leave... you can't leave him...

Not when you're so close.

Despite your protests, Enki's too focused on your supposedly shared goal.

When you begin to fight him, to reason...

Enki stops you.

You're both so close.

Don't you want to reach enlightenment with him?

Don't you wish to sit on the throne?

To enter the void?

When you continue to fight, to show that you'd rather leave the dungeons than stay with him...

You two fight... with the last of your health and mind...

Only for Enki to strike you down, a similar action he's done before with another one he's loved.

Personal connections... how troublesome.

He doesn't even care if he's insane at this point.

Yet he definitely loses the last of his mind when he sees you dead before him, blood trickling from your wounds and onto the cold ground.

Without too much more thinking, this would be when he makes you a ghoul.

The unfortunate part is you lose your mind... he really wishes he could avoid this...

But he's already too attached to care.

Ghoul or not, Enki's determined to keep you with him when he reaches enlightenment.

You're the only one he's allowed this close to his heart...

Perhaps there's a reason he isn't close to many as a dark priest....

[queercontrarian]

Ascension - A Beron Origin Story

@sjmvillainweek Prompt: Origin Story

In the middle of the First War with Hybern and Spring, Beron finally gets what he always wanted.

Read this story on AO3

The air was sweltering outside, only some flimsy spells keeping the inside of the tents cool and dry. In all his years, Beron had rarely known such weather within the borders of the Autumn Court. Now, with Summer encroaching on their territory and Spring breaking into their lands, the magic was out of balance and the weather followed. It was chaos. It was hell.

Athos had hoped that the fighting on the continent would distract Aldwig and his rabid hellish brood enough from the war they had started with their neighbors for Autumn to recover but Beron knew better. The High Lord of Spring would rather give up his colonies on the Continent and all his connections in the Human War than risk losing so close to home, especially to their perceived lesser neighbor, Autumn.

The attack on their borders and the southern provinces had been swift and brutal. Albéa, the once proud city which housed in equal parts Spring, Summer and Autumn fae reduced to nothing but bloody rubble and bones, many of the smaller villages along the way destroyed or abandoned, their inhabitants fleeing into the old woods.

It was from those very woods now that Beron had been launching his attacks, forced to watch as Spring and Summer made breach after breach deeper into his Court. Despite his General’s protests Athos had tried to meet the enemy in the field again and again, and each time Autumn’s army had suffered immense losses. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers thrown directly into the Beast’s maw with nothing to show for it but fewer mouths to feed. There was nothing to be done. Autumn’s forces were weakened by years of cuts to fund his father’s feasts and his brother’s expensive taste, the weapons lacking quality and the soldiers lacking training, ressources and grit. He could only hope that his wife’s campaign for support from the Day Court would be successful. To go begging at another High Lord’s court for help would have shamed him to the point of self-immolation only a few years ago, but the desperation of war had burned any such qualms out of him by this point. What mattered now was the survival of their people.

Of course his brother couldn’t know about the moves Beron had been making behind his back. Athos was already paranoid and irritable on a good day with the fire of the Phoenix running through his veins, seeing enemies in every corner, intrigues and plots to steal the throne from under him in every sideways glance, yet his brother was too apathetic and cowardly to act on what he thought he saw in any way other than to yell at Beron to somehow fix it. Beron did not have time to ”fix it” for his fool of a brother, and there was barely anything to distract the male with anymore either, especially since the camp had run out of the good wine and even the whores had abandoned the tents, instead fleeing north to hide in the shadow of the mountains along with a large part of the population.

Athos never should have been High Lord. He was a weak male, weaker even than their father, who had gone through all the effort of dethroning his own brother to be High Lord only to never do anything with the power at his disposal but throw lavish parties and spend every last coin in the Court’s treasury on food, alcohol, pretty trinkets and prettier females. Beron had shed no tears when the High Lord had been ambushed and killed near the Spring border by the younger prince and his savage war band. He’d been angry at the disrespect his family had suffered, his father’s cut-off head sent back to the Forest House in a box, his mangled body fed to Steffan’s beasts. He’d been worried for his family’s safety, devastated by what he knew war would mean for his Court, already worn out by their High Lord’s selfish whims. But he had not grieved. He’d only gone through the motions, smeared ash on his brow, taken off the jewelry, donned the black robes, spoken the prayers, and then returned to the battlefield, carrying in his heart only the burning rage he felt over the mantle of High Lord passing to Athos instead of him. Athos, who did not have any of the qualities a High Lord of Autumn should have, no claim but the blood running through his veins. Who worked only a fraction as hard as Beron did, who used his fire for parlor tricks, to amuse his tasteless companions, his circle of sycophantic noblemen who hadn’t held a sword since their hundredth birthday. Beron did not understand why, but he had no time to question it, and no one to complain to. War had come to their Court, and the Mother had chosen his brother to lead instead of him.

Twice the magic had spurned him, but not this time. He had not even bothered washing his brother’s blood off of his hands before going to see his nephew, only stopping by the tent Eris was staying in on the other side of the encampment, near the other officers. Beron did not think they would protect him if Nicholas chose to come for him, and he needed to be prepared. His nephew had fewer supporters than Beron did but was better liked than Eris, and he would not suffer any competition, even if there were no Heirs left but his younger cousins. Beron hadn’t been there when his brother had received the blessing, but it was custom for the High Lord to isolate himself immediately after the mantle passed. It was a sign of respect, both to the Goddess and to those who had come before them. To reflect. To pray. Nicholas had decided not to follow that tradition. He’d called Beron to his tent right away, to chastise him.

His nephew had been young, barely seventy, yet he’d spoken with the entitlement and false wisdom of a male ten times his age, about duty, about sacrifice and consequences. What did he know of those things? He was a child compared to Beron, even compared to half the males in this camp. He’d only lead Autumn into certain doom. He’d proven it at his first opportunity, blaming Beron for his father’s death like Athos wasn't grown, Beron’s senior by more than a century. He was a High Lord, he should have been able to hold his own without Beron having his back for five cauldron damned seconds, especially if he insisted on putting Eris and his soldiers near the front of the battle. Beron had only been distracted for a few seconds but it had been enough for some Spring Court mutt to taste royal Autumn blood. He’d killed it, of course, but not before the beast had shredded his brother’s breastplate into pieces and ripped out his throat. Even if he’d wanted to help him, there would have been nothing he could have done for Athos. He was gone before the beast hit the ground and the High Lord’s power with him.

Beron wiped his bloody dagger on one of the heavy drapes hanging by the plane of the tent. A waste, just like the rest of the finery his brother had insisted on bringing along instead of sending it into the mountains with their mother and their wives. Useless, the lot of them, but he’d set it right. He’d been preparing for this moment for years. He knew better than anyone how this Court functioned, what Autumn needed, how it fought and lived and died.

And yet the power had avoided him a second time, choosing Nicholas instead. Fortunately his nephew had never been a very quick study. It took time to get used to the powers the Mother granted them, time Beron had not given the boy. In the end, he’d looked so surprised despite everything, despite the accusations and the threats, the demands he’d made so bravely mere moments before. Kneel before your High Lord. Foolish boy. Foolish, foolish boy, so arrogant, so smug, so utterly unprepared. Beron sneered.

“Father?”

Beron turned to the opening of the tent, finding Eris standing in the fading light of the day. The sun set his hair aflame, a golden glow framing his silhouette. The markers of an Heir. A glint in the shadows broke the moment, light reflecting off the blade as Eris quickly sheathed his dagger, taking in the scene before him: Nicholas’s body on the carpet, his throat slit from one ear to the other, the blood soaking into the ground by Beron’s feet. Eris wasn’t stupid. He knew instantly what his father had done. He dropped to his knees without hesitation, his head bowed.

“Long live the High Lord, chosen by the Cauldron, blessed by the Mother,” Eris recited the ancient words, the confirmation each High Lord of this Court had received from his priestesses and subjects since Autumn was created.

For the first time, Beron allowed the power to run freely through his veins. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Nothing came close, not using his natural-born powers nor his first victory on the battlefield. He’d never felt so connected to the land, feeling every tree, every river, every stone, the wind rustling the leaves over their heads, even the clouds high above. He felt the soldiers around them, their heartbeats, their breath, their blood rushing through their veins. He felt Eris, his eldest son, his Heir, closer than anyone else.

Eris had finally finished his prayer, still kneeling on the carpet, his cousin’s blood soaking into his pants. He hadn’t looked up yet, his deep red hair falling into his eyes. He was still so young. Barely older than his mother when they had been wed, Beron reminded himself.

He let the power sink back into his skin, into his blood, where it kept flowing, singing, burning in the most delightful way. He took two steps to cross the space between himself and Eris and reached out his hand, lifting his son’s chin up so he’d face him. Eris’s eyes were wide but there were no tears for his cousin to be found, no grief. If he was even surprised or shocked, he hid it well. When Beron let go, his fingers left bloody prints on his face, and he fought the instinct to wipe them away.

“Stand up,” he said instead, his voice low but clear. He took a step back as Eris slowly rose to his feet again.

“You are the Heir of the Autumn Court now,” Beron continued, watching cautiously as Eris once again took in the scene inside the tent, the blood, the gold, the glow of power that connected them both now and forever. “You will be High Lord after me, and High Lords don’t kneel.”