#shade witch i miss you

[apricior]

i think dndads s2 good ending is that the shade witch and erin o'neil kill willy stampler with the power of being lesbian witches

[booplesnotts-art]

More HB you say?👀

Constance Hardbroom, my beloved🖤

May or may not have gone back to this specific episode and rewatched a few times cause of this

[floating-far-from-earth]

judging you...

(og cg under the cut)

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 4 , Part 5

Main Masterlist

CW: Asmo's having a bit of a mental breakdown, Beel literally has a fever dream and there's a brief description of lesson 16 in Belphie's part

.

Asmodeus – He didn’t want to play favourites

There’s an endless line of demons and witches alike willing to kill and die for him.

He can’t live without their adoration, their desire and their support.

While he knows you are not like everybody else, he can’t help but compare you to the rest of his fans.

Where’s the difference between your love and theirs? Can you give more than what they’ve already given him?

He can’t help but feel honoured by your confession, being chosen by their beloved human, but the idea of accepting your advances makes him feel ungrateful to his loyal fans.

The rejection comes out easily, just like many times before, and your reaction makes him sigh and almost offer his shoulder to cry on.

That would’ve been too cruel, wouldn’t it?

The uniqueness of your feelings doesn’t stand out until time passes.

It’s not just your attention that he misses, but also the tenderness in your eyes and the shy hint of your smile whenever he looks at you.

It became apparent that you cared not only for what he showed but also for what he hid about himself.

He tried searching for that same shade of love in your expression, but it faded quickly as weeks passed.

It all reached an end where, in a turn of events that made him sweat in fear and disgust, you started to look instead for his eldest brother.

He starts to work, desperately thinking that, maybe, if he made himself more beautiful or popular, you would change your mind and return to trying to be with him.

However, judging by the way you looked at Lucifer, he knew his reciprocation came a little bit too late.

You woke up to the sounds of sobbing, an animalistic yearning for comfort that pulled you out of your slumber. Hands grabbed the blankets covering you and a voice kept bubbling nonsense, an entire monologue full of sorrow that you couldn’t understand. In the end, it was the familiarity of the demon in front of you what fully brought you to the living world.

Asmo, kneeling beside your bed, cried even louder when he saw you opening your eyes. By the desperate moves of his hands you knew he wanted to hug you and that, mixed with the despair in his expression, tugged your heartstrings with painful force and made you open your arms.

He threw himself at you, burying you both in the cocoon of bedsheets and blankets and wept as you smoothed his hair and murmured words of consolation in his ear.

Almost half an hour passed until he could breathe with ease, but he wouldn’t look at you. Not like you were counting on it.

“You love me, don’t you? Do you still love me? Please, tell me you do. I love you, I truly do. I’d never reject you…”

“Reject me…?”

“I love you, I love you…”

Asmo hid his face in the crook of your neck, rocking the both of you back and forth in search of calmness. He ignored your questions and shaking hands, although you quickly realised he wasn’t entirely conscious about it. He seemed completely lost, repeating the confessions of his affections for you until he finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

You laid under him for the remainder of the night, too scared and shaken to rest again and hoping with all your strength that whatever put him in this state would disappear forever.

Beelzebub – He didn’t feel the same

It is indifference. From the moment you stepped into the house, what he felt for you was nothing more than indifference.

His room is empty and his twin’s absence occupies his mind more than it should, but he can’t do anything about it besides dealing with the loneliness.

Living with his older brothers simply isn’t enough anymore.

His family isn’t complete and the presence of a human in their home isn’t going to change that.

The first time he truly interacts with you is in the kitchen, in the middle of the night, willing to murder you over custard. The only reason you aren’t harmed is his brother’s fondness for you.

As a consequence, his room is no longer empty and he finds that quite enjoyable. Without any reason to be rude or mean to you, your short time spent together passes too quickly for his liking and, afterwards, he finds himself visiting you whenever he has the chance.

Beel values your friendship and he believes the feeling is mutual, even when you blush, smile with excitement and stare with bright eyes whenever he enters the room.

He is incapable of seeing how unbalanced your affections compared to his are.

His heart doesn’t stutter at your existence and neither do his words. You are his friend, a dear one, but nothing more; that’s what he tells you in response to your confession.

He pities your heartbreak and assures you your platonic relationship will remain the same, but his promises fall on deaf ears. The friendship is left hollow and unnatural and he briefly wonders if accepting your pouring heart would’ve been the better option.

Would have he fallen for you over time? If that were the case, although initially forced, would the love blossom into something strong and worth fighting for?

He hopes he will, too, go back to normal as weeks pass and you painfully overcome your crush, but when you’re finally able to look at him with non-romantic warmth, half of his face is red, his eyes twitch in adoration at each one of your smiles and his throat hurts from self-caused frustration.

Now it’s his turn to suffer the heartbreak.

There was a deep pressure on his chest when he woke up and as bad as Beel wanted it to be the comforting weight of your body, he knew that couldn’t be true. He didn’t feel the top of your head under his chin or your quiet breath against his skin. Had you actually been there, he would’ve never let you go.

His eyes were tired, itchy under heavy eyelids, and a pounding headache begged him not to move an inch, although he wasn’t sure he would be able to anyway; his muscles were glued to the bedsheets with sweat.

Groaning in exhaustion, he slowly turned his head sideways, staring at his twin’s sleeping form with deep-rooted fondness. Belphie was frowning, probably feeling part of Beel’s discomfort, and was twitching in his sleep, murmuring words he couldn’t decipher and lashing the tuft of his tail with weak movements.

An empty chair was also there, slightly facing his direction.

Quietly, the door opened and the dim glow of the hallway’s candles briefly lighted the entry, distracting him from the ache. A figure stepped in, tip-toeing while closing the door again and making its way to his bed.

MC…?

Was he hallucinating?

“Did I wake you up?” you asked in worry, unfazed by his silence.

He watched as you ignored the chair and sat beside him at the edge of the mattress, unsure of what to say or do. He wanted to touch you, take your face in his hand and make sure you weren’t a manifestation of his desires, but he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. In addition to that, his head felt full of cotton and completely detached from the rest of his body; he didn’t want to strike you by accident.

“My DDD ran out of battery, but I didn’t know where your charger was and I didn’t want to make noise. I just came back from my room”

You lifted your hand and he gasped in expectation, sighing with relief when you pushed away his wet hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. If he could return the gesture, he would, but he was barely able to keep his eyes focused on you, let alone talk or move.

“You’re still too warm” you informed with a frown, preparing yourself to leave his side. “I’m going to get a wet tow-… Honey?”

Beel sighed again, this time shuddering, exhausted at the effort of grabbing your arm and pulling you back to him.

Honey.

Your lips turned down in a sad smile, still coming down to kiss him again for a little longer.

“You’ll feel better tomorrow, I promise”

Honey.

“…ve you…”

You hummed a question against his skin, unsure of what he’d said, but he suddenly felt too weak to repeat himself.

“Go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here, Beel”

Honey.

Belphegor – He hated you

Your free will and your refusal to give up, going up the stairs despite Lucifer’s threats and helping the mysterious man imprisoned in the attic; stupidity and no sense of self-preservation trapped behind a weak shield of kindness and compassion.

Seeing you strive to help him is amusing; like a candle hoping to light the vastness of the night.

That you think he is a human is just an advantage to his plan, but how can you, such an insignificant creature, aid in his escape?

The mere sight of you sends bile to his mouth, but he can’t do anything besides entertain you whenever your human need of connection forces you to search for him.

You talk incessantly and he listens, albeit with no interest and borderline rude behaviour. He scoffs, shoots sarcastic remarks and brings you down whenever he has the chance, calling you stupid and naïve.

That’s why your feelings for him are so surprising.

You… like him? Do you like being lied to and degraded?

Okay.

He’s not going to complain.

It’s just another reason for you to help him without thinking twice.

And that you do.

A laugh blurts out of his throat when he finally closes his arms around your excited figure. You’re blushing and smiling like a fool and when you try to step away to ask if he’s okay, there’s nothing in your existence but pain.

Your desperate scratches are nothing for him and neither is the heartbreak of betrayal in your eyes. If anything, they make him want to hurt you even further, pushing your neck against the floor with inhumane strength and letting your body fall down the stairs like a child dropping a ragdoll would.

He comes to his senses no long after that; less than an hour. Your heritage is explained and his prejudices are proven to be incorrect, vanishing like dust at the prospect of sharing a friendship with you like his brothers do.

You were nice to him then, back when you didn’t know who he was, so why wouldn’t you be nice to him again now that there are no secrets between you? His actions were wrong, yes, but also justified.

Wouldn’t you agree, MC? He deserves the benefit of the doubt.

But why aren’t you looking at him anymore? Why do you hide? Don’t you trust him?

He said he was sorry! Isn’t that enough?

The door opened with a loud noise, then closed almost without notice. Something dragged across the floor until reaching your bed, a blanket, and if the soft hint of lavender didn’t let you know who just disturbed your sleep, then his words would make it obvious.

“You’re not in my bed” Belphie stated. You turned, confused at the abrupt interruption and the tone of his voice, which made it clear he was trying to hide something. His figure was indistinguishable amidst the dark, but his purple eyes stood out like stars. Before you could say anything, he talked again. “Why?”

He watched in silence as you looked around, trying to find a clue to understand what was happening. Still waiting for a response, he huffed as he climbed over you and settled on the other side of the bed.

“Like a cryptid, Belphie” you mustered in annoyance while letting him cling to your side. “You’re just like a cryptid”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re testing my patience”

“Why aren’t you in my bed?”

“I swear to God…”

You stared at him in disbelief, but something in his expression subdued your irritation. Now that he was closer you could see his glossy eyes, a frown twisting his whole face as his hands held on to you with more force than necessary. Although you had suspicions about what he wanted to hear, a sincere I love you, you still took the longer route and calmly answered his question.

“You kicked me out…”

“I never would” he quickly retaliated, sitting straight like a spring and hovering over you with determined and unblinking eyes.

“…because I had an accident in Solomon’s laboratory and my skin and clothes smelt like chemicals”

There was silence in the room for a few seconds and, after pushing him softly, Belphie finally laid down again, his features slowly relaxing until only a bitter expression remained. Your fingers carefully detangled his hair, but not even that seemed enough to fully calm him down.

“I’m sorry”, he said against your shoulder, delicately hugging your waist like you were made of porcelain.

“It’s okay, we can just go back to sleep…”

“I’m sorry, MC”

Your confusion was obvious, but he didn’t say anything and, by the time you gathered enough courage to ask, he was already deeply unconscious.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Knight

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Gwayne Hightower Couple - Gwayne X Reader Reader - Visenya Hightower (Daughter of Rhaenyra and Wife of Gwayne) Rating - 15 Word Count - 1715

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch, me again! Can I request again in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? I really love the Oscar Tully I requested, how you write it is simply divine! But now I’d like to request a Gwayne Hightower story. Wherein he is married to Rhaenyra’s sister named “Visenya” (many years after Alicent’s marriage to Viserys) to have a stronger bond between Hightower and Targaryen. But the thing is that they both resided in Old Town. They both had their first child, a girl the same age as Daeron and now expecting another one. No spice please, just Gwayne being the best husband and father ever, being really clingy and touchy, showering sweet words and kisses to his wife exactly like a simp haha. I am a million times grateful if you do this request, thank you! <33

Gwayne rides into the stables, pulling up and dismounting his horse bag slung over his shoulder. He tries to hurry his way inside fast and easy but finds the Maester pestering him as he walks

"Ser, Ser, A raven from your sister," The short man bobbles about following Gawyne around the yard,

Gwayne lets out a sigh, “What does my sister want?”

"She requests for you to take coach and begin the road to king's landing, Ser."

Gwayne grumbles, rubbing his forehead. “By the gods do I need to spell it out for her… no. I am not going to Kings Landing.”

"But Ser-" He began,

Gwayne held up his hand, stopping the man there. “What part of “no” are you unable to comprehend? I will not be going to that viper’s nest, I do not care for how much my sister begs and nags, nothing she can say will change my mind.” Gawyne sighed once more, "I will not risk such a movement, I will not do it. Visenya could begin her labours any day I will not risk taking her on the road in her condition much less to Kings Landing just to please my sister. Visenya will remain here, in our bed-chamber, with her maids and maesters while we wait for the baby. and I will be here. By her side."

The Maester began to argue more but at this,

“Do. Not. Push. Me.” Gwayne turned to face him, a growl upon his lips.

the Maester froze like a deer in the headlights at this, his legs going still and his lip quivering slightly as he nodded his head. The maester grumbled but relented, knowing he was not going to get any further than that, “Very well, ser, I shall inform your sister… again.”

Gwayne let out a scoff, running a hand through his hair in a bout of frustration. “I would not waste your birds on my sister… I’m certain she has a mind to flay you alive if you say “no” once more.” Gwayne heads inside the Hightower, heading up the many stairs to his chambers, already he felt a giddy smile as he opened the door.

The balcony doors open letting a soft breeze blow in from the sunset sea, the sweet canopy bed shaded by wooden screens. And there she lay Visenya his beloved wife. Long hair messy from her rest, wearing only her long white nightgown and her socks, her baby bump ripe and ready to pop any day. She hums softly as she slowly sews little baby clothes.

Gwayne stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her with a soft smile. He thanked the gods she was his, and questioned whatever luck he had been given for the brief time just to call her his own. He could have watched her forever, until Oldtown and the Hightower sank into the sea. But he moved further into the room, closing the doors behind him. He sets his bag down beside the bed, walking over and sitting on the edge. He looks at her sewing before his eyes move up to her face, his smile only growing. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then her forehead, then her nose, then her lips, then her jaw, then her collar, then her chest, then her bump, where he finally stops. He reaches out, resting his hand on her belly, rubbing it softly with a gentle smile. “Are you working on the clothes again, my love?”

she nodded "Mhm, I made our little knight some little socks to warm his tiny toes,"

Gwayne chuckled softly, grinning at the thought of their child and their tiny little toes ripe for kisses and tickles, “How shall our little night shall be to have such tiny socks, why I could fit the whole knight in my sock,”

“And poison the poor lad,” she joked,

“You are cruel to me my love,” he teased giving her another kiss, “You know not yet if it is a boy or girl, love…”

"No, we shall have to be surprised."

Gwayne smiled softly, taking her hand in one of his and intertwining their fingers. “Indeed, though regardless, I’m certain they will be a gorgeous and strong child. They have us as parents, after all…”

she nodded with a giggle in agreement,

“And I spent the day in the Old Town gardens and I gathered you enough Moonblooms for a whole batch of soap.” He cooed glancing to his bag, “As soon as your hungry let me know and I will make it myself for you,”

“Thank you darling,” she cooed, "What did the maester want, he came looking for you earlier"

Gwayne let out a sigh, he laid down resting his head on her bump in such a way he could still look at her face, “Ummm have I ever told you how beautiful you are,”

“Yes you have,” she smiled, “Maseter… wanted… what?” She reminds,

“You know just staggeringly beautiful,”

“Gwayne!” she complained, “Don’t just avoid the topic,” She warns, “You are causing me distress,” She teased rubbing her belly,

“More ravens from my sister, demanding my presence in Kings’ Landing… I once again refused, I will not take you on the road with you in your current state. It is not fair to you, nor the babe.”

"You know she will not stop her asking until she feels the babe in her arms"

He let out another sigh, “I do not care how many ravens she sends, I will continue to refuse her. I will not risk you or our baby for my sister’s whims.” he explained, “It is three months ride to kings landing, swiftly and you are in no condition to travel for that long, let along be on any swift movements. Our babe will be born by the time we arrive and I will not risk you and our baby’s health to have your labours in the back of a coach. No. You will be here. With all the citadel’s maesters to aid you, all your handmaidens. And I by your side. In your own bed, with your own views, Visenya,” he took her hand in his holding it to his chest,

"But don't you want to take your beautiful wife, swollen heavy with your babe to court to show off?" she teased

Gwayne chuckled, bringing the back of her hand to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

“While seeing you in court would be wonderful, you are more important then any lords, ladies or my sister. You are my wife, my love, my Visenya.”

He shifted once more so he was lying partially on top of her, his body mostly on her side, his head now against her torso. He wrapped his arms around her waist, He listened to the sound of her breathing, the steady beat of her heart, and most importantly the sound of the little pitter-patter of their child’s own delicate little heartbeat. Everything was perfect, here in this moment in his mind, often he whispered sweet cooes to her and peppered her with kisses telling her and their baby how much he adores them,

Suddenly the door to the chamber flies open

"Did I miss it!" Lianna yelled in panic, standing at the door in her green gown, fresh from her library session with her cousin Daeron,

Gwayne nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout from the doorway, not expecting his daughter’s sudden appearance. The surprise was soon replaced with a sigh and a chuckled at the girl’s question. “Miss what, Lianna?”

"My baby brother!" She bolted over jumping onto their bed with excitement

Gwayne chuckled, shaking his head, his hands going to her little arms to prevent her from accidentally moving the bed too hard, knowing Visenya needed to be on her back most of the time these days. “Lianna, you’ve asked this every day for two months, and it’s always the same answer. Your brother has not arrived yet.”

"Why not?"

Gwayne sighed, smiling at his impatient, and at times, irritatingly stubborn daughter. “Because these things take time, sweetling. Give it another month or two, you’ll have your baby brother to dote on and bother all the time.”

lianna nodded, and pulled a bundle of flowers from her back "For you mama," She offered the flowers to Visenya,

"Awww thank you my sweet girl," she cooed taking the flowers from her, setting them in a vase beside the bed with the flowers’ Lianna brought her yesterday, but keeping one out to rub on her belly to soothe the little baby within,

Gwayne scooted over, The sight made him smile. Lianna was so sweet, though a handful at times. “Those are beautiful Lianna, you did well with them,”

“Lianna, would you like to feel your sibling move? I can feel our little knight right now…”

Lianna immediately came to rest her hands on Visenya's belly "I feel him! I feel him!"

Gwayne chuckled softly, watching Lianna rest her hands on her mother’s belly, a smile upon her face. He reached out, gently resting his own hand over Visenya’s stomach, smiling at the feeling of their child moving around in there. He could practically feel Lianna’s excitement, and he smiled softly at their daughter’s enthusiasm for the little one.

Visenya chuckled, placing her own hand over her Gwaynes, both of them now resting on her stomach.

“See? He’s a little knight indeed. He has been very active lately, moving around in there quite a lot.”

“Umm, I think he is almost ready to join us,” He smiled,

“I think so too,” 

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

i am reblogging everything at once i do not care i literally stopped caring the second i saw that you tagged me in this masterpiece because i don't remember adding much to the ship's discussions (and i'm too scared to even look at it anymore xD my art back then is giving me goosebumps hhh) and definitively did not talk nearly enough about my headcanons about my favorite little silly guys so nah nope i'm spamming you with love right now be prepared for the heart attack koti!!! <3333

Colours of LOVE!!!

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Oh just look at them! Nightmare experiences a bunch of different feelings here. At first he is embarrassed he got called out for being jealous, next Killer teasing him doesn't make it easier and lastly he commits to public kissing XD. So cute.

Nightmare's part when he says "we barely know him and I don't.." it was mean to be barely readable since he just talks to get out of the situation but he got interrupted by Killer. But if anyone has trouble reading that I can make a transcript!

• Support me on Patreon! •

Just in case you didn’t know - this story is inspired by @zu-is-here, @help-im-a-gay-fish @yuriyuruandyuraart and some other people, and is about what if all characters we know are just actors playing their roles in some kind of TV shows. The names are the same, but personality can be different.

[c0sm1c-c01nc1dence]

Red

✧ Pairing: Hunter x human!reader ✧

✧ Content/warnings: Soulmate AU, takes place during season 3, use of the word ‘damn’ once, the title is bland and I’m sorry, Hunter and the reader are both dorks, first post on here!! ✧

The “rules” for soulmates, as it were, were pretty straightforward. You see everything in the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you make eye contact with them you can see in full, proper colors. Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? Well, not for you, it wasn’t.

You, for the past sixteen or so years of your life, had been seeing nothing but red. Different shades, thank god, but red nonetheless. And to be frank, you were getting pretty damn fed up with it. The thing is that no one naturally has red eyes. And you would know; you’ve googled it maybe a thousand times already.

So you were fairly certain you didn’t have a soulmate, and this was all some cruel joke from the universe. But life marches on, so there’s no time to dwell on that, is there?

───── ───── ───── ─────

Another day at Gravesfield’s high school, bland as ever. At least until you caught a glance at your friend Luz. Rather, former friend. She’d been acting weird ever since she came back from that ‘reality check’ camp. And not standard Luz weird, no— she’d been avoiding you since then. Acting like she didn’t know you at all whenever you approached her, not to mention her sudden lack of interest in anything she used to like. The Good Witch Azura books, most notably.

So, needless to say, you were a bit surprised at her new look. Curly hair, a new scar over her eyebrow, and a general air of seasonal depression about her. Even though your recent interactions hadn’t gone so smoothly, you couldn’t help but ask. You were still allowed to care about her.

“Luz?” You called out from down the school hallway. She turned her head in your direction, and you could practically see the stars in her eyes when she saw you. She ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. Stumbling backwards, you hesitantly returned the gesture. “Good to see you too?” You awkwardly pat her back, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Y/N, I am so glad to see you! Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” She backed away and wiped a small tear from her eye.

“We saw each other yesterday, though?” You chuckled, still perplexed by this whole situation. “Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kinda acting like you just came back from war right now.” Her face fell slightly, but her smile quickly returned.

“Meet me at my house once school’s done, ok? I have… a lot to tell you.” You nodded, and watched her just walk away casually after that interaction.

“Cool. Good talk, I guess?”

───── ───── ───── ─────

“So, if I’m following,” You began, now in the Noceda family’s living room. “You didn’t go to summer camp, but instead spent several months in a fantasy world, and the Luz I’ve been interacting with is actually a shape-shifting basilisk.” You pointed to Vee, who nodded shyly. “And in this fantasy world you became a witch, made a bunch of new friends, and got a girlfriend.” You left out the details involving Belos and the Collector, deciding that you didn’t need to recap whatever nonsense was going on there.

“Yeah, actually. You’re handling this surprisingly well.” Luz noted.

“I think I’m still in shock, to be honest.” You laugh a bit in disbelief. You couldn’t begin to comprehend what she’d been through during those months, and you kind of didn’t want to. “So, more importantly, do I get to meet these new people?” You questioned, and her face brightened.

“Of course! They’re upstairs, so let me go get them and I’ll be right back.” You waited downstairs with Vee, exchanging basic small talk. She apologized for the whole ‘impersonating one of your few friends’ thing, which was nice of her. Eventually Luz came back, new friends and girlfriend following behind her.

“Alright! Everyone this is Y/N.” You gave a polite wave, quickly scanning over the group. “Y/N, this is Willow, Gus, Amity, and Hunter.” You got a proper look at all of them as she said their names, your eyes landing on the blond last. Wait a minute, blond?!

As it would turn out, when you made eye contact with Hunter you could suddenly see a lot more colors. He clearly noticed this as well, as a light blush was present on his cheeks and ears. You could feel some heat rise to your own face as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Luz asked, noticing your stunned silence.

“I, uh…” you stumbled over your words like an idiot, still staring at him. Saving what little dignity you had left, your phone dinged from your pocket. Checking the notification, you gave an awkward smile and held it up to the group. “Oh! You know what, that’s my dad. He probably wants me home for dinner!” You put your phone back in your pocket, and began approaching the door. “I’ll see you guys later, okay, bye!”

You got the words out as quickly as you could, and bolted as soon as the door was open. You ran back to your house, face still flushed from embarrassment and being generally flustered, leaving a room full of witches (and one human) awfully confused.

“Hunter, what was that about?” Willow asked, as he still stared at the spot where you once were.

“Um- good question.”

───── ───── ───── ─────

Later that day, Hunter knocked on the door to Luz’s bedroom.

“Come in.” She said idly, distracted by whatever she had been playing on her Switch. He entered her room, hands anxiously fidgeting at his sides. There wasn’t a particularly easy way to say this, so he just bit the bullet.

“So, you know the whole thing with your soulmate, and how you’ll only see in their eye color until you make eye contact?”

“Yeah?” She encouraged, curiosity evident in her tone.

“Well, it’s possible that maybe, perhaps, Y/Nismysoulmate.”

“What?!” She immediately paused her game, and whipped around to face him. “Really?! Tell me everything!” She sat on the ground and patted the spot next to her, encouraging him to sit down. He did so, face red from having to explain the whole ordeal.

“There’s nothing to tell! I used to only see e/c, I looked at them, now I can see every color, and they— I always thought your hair was black, by the way— and they just ran away!” As Luz sat and processed this information, Hunter continued thinking out loud. “Did they not like me or something? Is it because I’m from the Boiling Isles?” He questioned, grabbing the pointed tips of his ears. Cutting his rambling short, Luz spoke up.

“No, I don’t think so. They were always interested in fantasy like I was. Maybe they were just a bit overwhelmed?” She suggested. He sighed.

“I guess that could have been it.” He said, though the anxiety was still clear on his face.

“Hey, how about I try to get them to come over this weekend? You guys can talk about it then.” He nodded, and watched her grab her phone to message you. Titan, he hoped she was right about this.

───── ───── ───── ─────

A few days had gone by since the whole incident with Hunter. You had been avoiding him since then, though you honestly weren’t sure why. If you had to, though, you’d say it was probably out of shock. I mean, you were convinced you didn’t have a soulmate for years. And now this incredibly good-looking boy comes in from another realm, and he’s supposedly perfect for you? It’s absurd!

Though it was also worry. How would a relationship between the two of you even work out? He’d have to go home eventually, and you probably couldn’t come with him. Maybe he wouldn’t even like you after the way you left the other day, and he’d reject you before you even had a chance. That’d put a quick and easy end to all this.

You’d been really sick of the color red these past couple days. You usually were, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Though you couldn’t avoid your problems forever, despite your best efforts. Luz had invited you over for a board game night to celebrate the two of you reuniting. And, well… who were you to say no?

───── ───── ───── ─────

The day finally came, and it had been going relatively well so far. No one else seemed to know what had happened or why you left that first time you came over. Though you and Hunter had been carefully dancing around each other the whole time. It seemed neither of you were equipped to talk about your feelings at the moment. But were you really ever?

Eventually you saw him slip out the front door. With a sigh, you decided to finally face the problem. No use in stalling any more than you already have. After telling Luz that you were going outside for a moment, you stepped out and saw Hunter sitting on the steps leading to the front door. He turned around at the noise, and immediately turned back the other way when he saw it was you. Wordlessly, you sat down next to him. After a moment, he finally broke the silence.

“You look really nice.” You glanced at him, and saw the pink dusting his face. You smiled at the way his blush would spill out onto his ears.

“Thanks, but I’m not really wearing anything special.”

“I know,” He continued, finally meeting your eyes. “I just mean, like- you look nice. You’re really cute.”

“Oh.” You said, quite simply, now blushing a bit as well. You looked at the ground beneath you, pondering how exactly to go about this. “So, this whole ‘soulmate’ thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” Was all he managed. His hands toyed with his pants, still a bit nervous about this whole ordeal. Unable to find the words he wanted, Hunter just looked out at the surrounding neighborhood for a bit. Eventually, though, he said the one thing that was on his mind at the moment. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if I may suggest something scandalous?” His blush deepened at your words, but quickly faded as he watched you intertwine your hand with his own.

“Wow, and we’re not even married yet.” He joked. You put your free hand up defensively.

“I know, I know! What can I say, I like to live on the edge.” He laughed, and you silently basked in the sound. You set your eyes on the sky above you, a handful of stars already visible in the late evening’s light. Maybe red isn’t half bad after all.

[amphitriteswife]

💛🧡Rejection🧡💛

Tagging: @praisethesuuun @mizz-sea-nymph @nicasdreamer @swallowtail-lotus

I know i made it male reader but feel free to see your oc sunny!😈

Apollo x male! Reader.

Apollo, god of the Sun, one of the 12 olympians and twin brother of the moon goddess herself, Artemis. That’s what he was most known for. Yet many forgot he was so much more than that. For example being the god of medicine, music, boys, knowledge and so much more. He was well loved among the ancient greeks. Often seen as the male beauty. In many of his famous tales Apollo falls in love with a man or woman, yet it always ends badly for them, causing Apollo to have them turned into flowers. Yet despite all the recognition, the glorious tales of him defeating the monster Python… he wasn’t always a saint.

Clutching your bow in one hand, you looked at the boar you just hunted. The boar was usually a symbol or offer to the lady Artemis herself. Once again, failing to have an offer for the god you worship. It was tiring and disappointing. Now it was a waste if you didn’t do anything with the now dead boar. Until the idea hit you that you might offer it to Artemis without entering her temple as only women or her priestesses are allowed to enter in. Walking in the direction of the temple you met one of the priestesses, giving her the boar and turning on your heel to go back to train with your bow, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being followed. It was an uneasy feeling in your gut that told you to keep watching who was behind you. Ignoring the feeling but not the suspicion, you clutched your bow and narrowed your eyes. The sudden sound of leaves rattling made you alert as you quickly raised your bow, pulling out an arrow and aiming at the source of the sound, your hand pulling on the string before firing the arrow without missing a beat.

Steading your breath, you listing closely, hearing the sound of your arrow hitting something followed by a rather loud and dramatic ‘OW’ which made you a bit stunned before you hesitantly walked into the direction of where you shot your arrow. Moving some of the leaves and bushes you could finally see…a naked man in the lake? The sight was honestly a little baffling since most of the warriors were already back at the training camp, and not to mention the light shade of the pink hair which was a unusual color for human hair, walking closer you could see the little red liquid in the pond water, slowly getting thinner the more it stayed in the water. Following the trail of blood you could recognize seeing your own arrow in the right shoulder of the man. The man seemed confused as to why he suddenly got hit by an arrow. Your arrow. Guilt filled your being as you walked closer to the man, wanting to help him stop the bleeding yet when you were about to call him out he pulled out the arrow himself. His hand hovered over the cut before a yellow light surrounded the area where he ws hurt, the wound slowly closing under the dim light.

Suddenly, the man turned behind him. Staring at you wide eyed. He had hazel pupils, something that was rare, yet not unusual. You too stared back at him shocked. Who the hell was this man? Was it a magician? A witch? Should you tell someone? This can’t be real. This cannot be happening. ‘You look like you saw a ghost…well I’m even better.’ The man spoke to you, his hazel eyes focused on you. He had sharp features and a cocky arrogant smirk playing on his thin yet pink lips. He had a nice, lean yet muscular body and his voice was smooth and almost velvety…it made your head a little light and dizzy. ‘Are you feeling alright mortal? Can’t have you passing out on me?’ He told you in a hearty chuckling tone. He was suspicious. He must’ve done something to you. Your vision was a little clouded and your head felt heavy. ‘What have you done to me?’ You asked him placing one hand on your head. Massaging it a little. Your eyes focused on the suspicious man. The man Hmph-ed and scoffed. Closing his eyes, seemingly hurt and offended that he was accused of something like that.

‘I didn’t do anything, you idiot. Who do you take me for? That’s no way to talk your god!’ he said to you, crossing his arms and keeping his head high. How arrogant! And why is he claiming to be a god? That’s disrespectful! Claiming to be a god is highly disrespectful and insulting to your religion. ‘You can’t just claim you’re a god mister. It’s disrespectful.’ You told him carefully which made him scoff at you. ‘I’m no pretender! Seriously who do you take me for! It’s me! Apollo! Your lord! Your sweet, charming, loving, amazing sun god!’ Apollo told you proud fully, his strawberry pink like hair glistening in the waters. But he couldn’t help but chuckle when he looked at your flabbergasted face. His arms reached out to your body and he pulled you in the water with him. His hands on your broad shoulders while he looked you deep into your eyes, his face held a confident smirk and his hands soon began to make its way to your face, cupping it slightly. ‘Keep your god company, won’t you?’ Apollo asked you softly whispering in your ear. The sudden action once again made your head spin.

There was no denying that Apollo was attractive and charming….and seductive. But it was still highly Inappropriate to have something with the god you worship. Would you be allowed to go into the temple again? What if you end up like most of his lovers who have met unfortunate fates? Dying isn’t something you wanted…even if being with your god seemed like a dream. Would it really be a good choice to accept? Is that really what you want? So many questions yet so little answers. It made you dizzy and uncomfortable which cause you to take a fews steps back which made the god stunned. ‘I don’t know if that’s what i want...’ You told him slowly and carefully. You didn’t want to make quick and reckless decisions.. there was too much at stake. ‘I decline. I’m sorry my lord’ You told him carefully but firmly. Even if you loved your god, it was still platonic and admiration. Not romantic love like he hoped.

To not make the situation worse you walked out of the waters, apologized for the arrow and took your leave. Leaving Apollo, even if it was still hard to process in your state of disbelief that it was really him, alone in the waters who was confused himself. Apollo was never rejected by anyone, causing him to have a stir of mixed emotions. He was hurt that you didn’t feel for him. Yet also angry you had the audacity to reject him. Yet also admiration that you wanted to put yourself first. He himself felt strange, but he was a powerful and confidant being. And rejected won’t a final answer. After all. In Apollo’s myths he never took no for an answer either…

🌻Thank you for reading! 🌻

[sunshinemarauder]

Jily Week 2024 MASTERLIST

Jily Week 2024 is officially over, and @kay-elle-cee and I are SO blown away by the response from y'all!

A quick tally of the total participation over all seven days:

FANFICTION: 63

CREATORS: 27

FANART: 19

FAN VIDEOS: 2

TWITTER THREADS: 1

Thank you all for making this year's Jily Week an overwhelming success 🥹 85 works from 27 creators is WAY more than we'd anticipated, and it was amazing to watch the Jily fandom come together and support each other's lovely works!

In case you missed it, here is our AO3 collection!

And, of course, below is the master list of all the fan content made for Jily Week and links to the Tumblr/Twitter posts (from where you can also access AO3 links). 👉

~~

Day 1 – Love is in the Hair

Mistle-Wow by @livelaughlovetoread | Tumblr

Simple Math by @yallthemwitches | Tumblr

Auburn by @sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

Braid by @ohmygodshesinsane | Tumblr

Love Is In The Hair 1 by @eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Love Is In The Hair 2 by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Something Eternal by @tedwardremus | Tumblr

Art by @tinyluminaryzombie | Tumblr

Love Is In The Hair by @drearymondays-05 | Tumblr

Hairography by @petalsthefish | Tumblr

Thread by canismajore on Twitter

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre/dejaentends | Tumblr (part 1) | Tumblr (part 2)

Art by @fiendishfyre | Tumblr

swimming through sick lullabies by @gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

flower & thorn by @thequibblah | Tumblr

he cares by sunflowersamples | Twitter

How Lily and James Fell In Love by @sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Risky Business by @arianatwycross | Tumblr

Art by @constancezin | Tumblr

Day 2 – Partners In Crime

The Interrogation by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

Partners In Crime by EastWindMlk | Tumblr

United Front by yallthemwitches | Tumblr

Partners in Crime by @abihastastybeans | Tumblr

Video by herefromwoods on Twitter

Partners by ohmygodshesinsane Tumblr

roots of memory by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

partners in crime by tinyluminaryzombie | Tumblr

Gentle, Patient, and Devoted by tedwardremus | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

“Just” Partners by petalsthefish | Tumblr

Chicken of the Woods by @alrightevanns | Tumblr

Shades of Mischief by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Art by constancezin | Tumblr

Day 3 – In Vino Veritas

In Vino Veritas by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Screwed by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

Drunken Confessions by drearymondays-05 | Tumblr

Force Majeaure by yallthemwitches | Tumblr

Liar, Liar by @annasghosts | Tumblr

Truth in a Bottle by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

Under the influence of loss by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

Art by tedwardremus | Tumblr

Art by constancezin | Tumblr

Day 4 – Flip the Script

Flip The Script by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Like Water by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

The Good Witch by petalsthefish | Tumblr

Those Who Wallow by yallthemwitches | Tumblr

Simmer Until Ready by kay-elle-cee | Tumblr

A Note of Affection by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

the dance of mischief and duty by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

Art by constancezin | Tumblr

Day 5 – Matchmaker, Matchmaker

The Sound of Silence by yallofthemwitches | Tumblr

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Four Names by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

Matchmaker, Matchmaker (2) by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

The Marauders’ Master Plan by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Art by tinyluminaryzombie | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

crafting chemistry by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

Art by constancezin | Tumblr

Day 6 – Inspired By…

Inspired By…Bioshock by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

The James Potter Affair by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

The Lady of Kini by @annabtg | Tumblr

Inspired By…Titanic by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Video by @lupinflowrs | Twitter | Tumblr

Art by lupinflowrs | Tumblr

Pride, Prejudice, and Potter by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

Art by tinyluminaryzombie | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

i’m waiting for it, that green light by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

Art by @ilikeginnyweasley | Tumblr

Art by constancezin | Tumblr

Day 7 – Continuation Station

Cervus by sophie-hatter-jenkins | Tumblr

The Boy (In The Bedroom) Next Door Extra by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

Echoes of Tuning Hearts (Bonus Track) by Eastwindmlk | Tumblr

when i first saw you, the end was soon by juniperpyre (a cut scene) | Tumblr

My Dog Said I Can’t Go Out With You (James’ Version) by tedwardremus | Tumblr

ripples in the water chapter by kay-elle-cee | Tumblr

Not A Bang, But A Whimper by yallthemwitches | Tumblr

but we dream in the light by gigglesandfreckles-hp | Tumblr

Bewitched By You by sonics-atelier | Tumblr

A Cup Affair by @maraudersinparadise (translation of their own fic) | Twitter | Tumblr

Art by fiendishfyre | Tumblr

~~

P.S. If you are sharing any late works, please still tag us and we will reblog/comment. If we missed tagging you/reblogging/commenting on what you wrote, shoot us an ask or message 💛

And don't forget these adorable badges!

I would also like to add a HUGE shoutout to Kelsey, without whom this fest wouldn't have been nearly as amazing! She's been so organized and enthusiastic, and I'm so glad I asked her to join me in co-hosting 💛

[thestuffedalligator]

The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.

It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.

I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.

My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.

It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.

I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.

The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.

Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”

“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”

Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.

I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.

The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.

This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?

I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.

I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”

I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.

“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”

“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”

I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”

I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.

I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.

I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.

“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”

“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Four}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Four

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} In the present day, Cami takes matters into her own hands by going to the police, urging detectives to search for your killer. Meanwhile, Rebekah and Kol return to Mystic Falls to seek Bonnie Bennett’s help...and run into an old friend. In the past, your church has a watchful eye on your every move as fear of demons brew among the villagers, risking your exposure and ruin.

5.4k words - Warnings: so much angst, Cami trying her best, Kol and Rebekah being an iconic duo in Mystic Falls, murder investigations, pain with a sprinkle of more pain on top, hallucinations, demons and Klaus having a little treat...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}{Part Six}

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss

Cami sat nervously in the waiting area of the police department, wondering why she ever thought this was a good idea. What was she going to say? That she knew a vampire that was murdered? They would want details she couldn’t give… like, where’s the body? How does she know there was a murder?

She could already hear them laughing her out of the office.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. This was the right thing to do. She had a hunch, and it was her job to follow through.

A door opened, and a tall, no-nonsense detective stepped out, scanning the room until his gaze landed on her. With a slight nod, he motioned for her to follow him, leading her to a small, windowless room.

“How can I help you, Miss O'Connell?” he asked, settling into a chair across from her.

Cami took a breath, the uncertainty bubbling up again. “I… I have a friend who went missing, and I was hoping the police could help me find her.”

“Missing?” The detective’s brow lifted, his expression shifting to mild skepticism.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. She’s been missing for several months…” Cami replied, realizing too late how wrong that sounded.

“Months?” His skepticism deepened, one eyebrow arched.

“Yes,” she repeated, trying to sound more confident.

“Miss O'Connell,” he said, softening his tone just slightly, “you’re aware that most missing persons cases aren’t solved. Many aren’t even reported until it’s too late.”

“I understand,” she replied, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap.

The detective sighed, studying her closely. “Do you have any evidence of foul play?”

Cami’s mind raced. “No… I don’t have evidence, but I know something is wrong. She wouldn’t just disappear.”

“Alright,” he said, pulling out a notepad. “Let’s start with her name and tell me what she looks like.”

Cami swallowed again, steadying herself as she described you: the color of your hair, the shade of your eyes, the way you always wore that silver bracelet. She felt the lump in her throat grow as she spoke, picturing you more vividly with each word.

The detective listened, his expression hardening slightly. “Did she have any enemies?”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “She… well, she had a lot of enemies,” she admitted, immediately regretting it.

He raised an eyebrow, jotting something down. “Enemies?”

“Yes, but she was… a private person. I don’t really know who they were,” she said, guilt pricking at her as she lied.

The detective’s patience began to wear thin. “Miss O'Connell, if I’m going to help, you need to be honest. What aren’t you telling me?”

Cami hesitated, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. She glanced down, trying to find the words. “It’s a long story,” she managed, her voice small.

“We have time.”

“It’s a very long story,” she repeated, almost pleading.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I have several open murder cases on my desk. I’m not going to spend hours on a missing person unless you can give me a reason to. So if you have something to tell me, spit it out. Otherwise, we’re done here.”

“Right, sorry,” she stammered, her cheeks burning. “It’s just… my friend was married into a very powerful family of vampires, and she is one herself. And she was murdered, I know where and when, so I need your help collecting forensic evidence.”

He stared at her, his face blank. “Are you kidding me?”

“I wish I was,” she said softly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, gesturing toward the door. “Please leave.”

“But-”

“Miss O'Connell, unless you want me to throw you in jail for wasting police time, I suggest you leave now,” he said, his tone cold.

Cami rose, shame washing over her. “I’m sorry. I was just hoping-”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his expression hardening.

She hurried out, her heart pounding, a mix of anger and humiliation clouding her mind. She had been foolish to think the police would help. As she walked down the hallway, she caught sight of a bulletin board covered in photographs and reports. Missing people. Her heart sank as she stared at the faces.

“Hey!” she called out as a young officer passed by.

“Yeah?”

“What’s this for?” she asked, nodding to the board.

“Murder victims, same motive. Possible serial killer,” he said.

A chill ran down her spine. “Can I look at the case file?”

The officer raised an eyebrow, giving her a wary look. “Sorry, ma’am, but those files are confidential.”

“Right. Thanks.” She forced a polite smile, walking quickly out of the building. Once outside, she pulled out her phone and dialed Klaus’s number.

“Cami?” Klaus answered, his tone warm.

“I’m at the police station. They’ve got a case on a possible serial killer,” she said, her words spilling out. “All the victims… Klaus, they look just like her.”

There was a long, tense pause on the line.

“Stay where you are,” he said finally, his voice low and serious. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

Relief washed over her as she hung up, the weight of fear lessened. Maybe, just maybe, they were onto something real.

“Rebekah, darling, be a dear and pass me that bottle,” Kol gestured lazily toward the expensive bourbon behind the bar.

She raised an eyebrow. “Planning on getting wasted? We’ve got work to do, Kol.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy,” he replied, grabbing the bottle as soon as it was in reach. He poured himself a generous amount, then one for her. “I died in this town. I’m entitled to a drink.”

Rebekah sighed but accepted the glass, taking a small sip. “Technically, we both did. Though, you managed to do it twice.”

Kol smirked, savoring his drink. “Ah, yes. I nearly forgot how much fun it was the first time.”

He turned, leaning back against the bar, surveying the Mystic Grill’s bustling crowd. Music hummed in the background, laughter and chatter filling the air along with the scent of alcohol. The place had changed, yet a strange sense of familiarity lingered.

“This place brings back memories,” Kol mused, his tone light. “There was a lovely little spot nearby where I’d... relieve myself. Quiet, private.”

Rebekah grimaced. “You’re disgusting.”

"What? Like you didn't have your spots, Rebekahhh," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I liked the view, nothing makes the bowels move quite like the morning sunrise,"

She let out a sound of disgust, and tossed back her drink, setting her glass down and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Not much has changed about this place, still a glorious shit hole," He quipped, taking another gulp of his drink.

She rolled her eyes, leaning back against the counter and scanning the crowd. Her eyes landed on a familiar face sitting in a booth, and she smirked. "You can't be serious,"

"What?" He asked, arching an eyebrow, turning to look at where she was staring. "Oh, for fucks sake,"

Stefan Salvatore was sitting in a booth, alone, sipping on his drink. He was watching them, his expression carefully neutral, his body tense.

"I'll deal with him," Kol muttered, standing up.

"Kol, behave," Rebekah warned, elbowing him.

"When have I ever not behaved?" He shot back, smirking.

"Do you want a list?" She snapped, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "We are here to convince that Bennett witch to help us, not cause trouble."

"I'm just going to say hi," he defended, holding his hands up. "If anything happens, it will be entirely his fault,"

She rolled her eyes and released his arm, giving him a pointed look.

He winked at her and strode towards Stefan, a grin spreading across his face, sliding into the seat across from him. "Well, well, if it isn't the famous Ripper of Monterey. Seems you have a new hobby of stalking people,"

Stefan smiled faintly, swirling the bourbon in his glass. "I'm just enjoying a drink at my local bar,"

Kol chuckled, shaking his head, a sly smile tugging at his lips. "How long have you been following us, hm?"

"Since you showed up," Stefan answered, taking a sip of his drink. "I thought you and your family moved on to New Orleans."

"Oh, we did," Kol grinned, tilting his head. "But, we've always had a fondness for this place. We are sentimental like that,"

"So this is just a vacation then?" Stefan asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"In a sense," Kol shrugged. "Family business, you know how it is,"

Stefan hummed, raising an eyebrow. "Does this have anything to do with the death of your sister-in-law?"

"Oh, you're a busy little birdie," Kol drawled, his smile widening. "Where did you hear that?"

"It's not everyday that a Mikaelson dies," Stefan replied, his tone light. "That kind of news gets around."

"Ah, yes, the supernatural grapevine," Kol sighed, rolling his eyes. "A dreadful thing. So, have you heard anything useful?"

Stefan stared at him, his jaw clenching, Kol could tell he was afraid, even though he made great efforts to hide it. "Like I said, just rumors."

Kol laughed, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Stef. You're safe, Rebekah would have my head if I killed you."

Stefan raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that would stop you,"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," Kol scoffed, tilting his head. "Your neck is intact, isn't it?"

"Why are you really here, Kol?" Stefan asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Looking for a friend of yours, perhaps you could help me," Kol replied, a smile tugging at his lips. "We need to speak to a young Miss. Bennett."

Stefan frowned, his eyes darkening. "What do you want with her?"

"Relax, Stefan," Kol sighed, shaking his head. "We're not planning on harming her. We just need her help, that's all."

Stefan leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering to Rebekah who was walking towards them. "And if she says no?"

Kol's smile widened, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Then we'll convince her otherwise,"

Stefan tensed, his expression hardening, his hand tightening around his glass. "Is that a threat?"

Rebekah let out an annoyed sigh and leaned over the table, pinching Kol’s arm. "Stop being an ass."

"Ow," he whined, rubbing his arm. "You're supposed to be helping,"

She glared at him, then looked at Stefan. "Don't mind my brother, he was dropped on his head when he was a baby,"

"I was not," Kol protested, frowning.

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to Stefan, placing her hand over his, smiling sweetly. "Tell me, what is Bonnie up to these days?"

"Bonnie isn't going to help you," Stefan answered, his voice hard. "She's not exactly a fan of your family,"

"We aren't looking to be friends," Rebekah said, shaking her head. "All we need is a little help,"

"Help with what, exactly?" Stefan pressed, his eyes narrowing.

Kol and Rebekah exchanged a glance, and Rebekah gave him a nod.

"The death of my sister-in-law was a bit unexpected," Kol explained, his voice low, his smile fading. "We want to fix that, bring her back,"

Stefan let out a dark chuckle, leaning back in his chair, shaking his head. "So it's true? Elijah has gone off the deep end?"

"You are hardly one to judge, darling," Rebekah remarked, glaring at him.

"Look, I have no interest in being dragged into Mikaelson family drama," Stefan replied, his voice tight. "And neither will Bonnie,"

Rebekah let out a soft sigh, and glanced at her brother, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "Brother, will you get me a drink?"

"Sure, Bex," he said, giving her a wide smile before heading up and walking to the bar.

Rebekah leaned in, her voice lowering. "I think you have misunderstood us, this isn't a request. We are asking politely for you to tell us where Bonnie is... Or I will force the answer out of you,"

"I would like to see you try," Stefan replied, his words laced with challenge.

"I'm stronger than I look," she murmured, her gaze lingering on him, her smile turning sly. "You of all people should know that."

Stefan stared at her, and she could see the tension in his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes.

Kol returned and set a glass of whiskey down in front of her, sliding back into his seat, sipping on his own drink.

"One last chance, love," Rebekah purred, taking a small sip, her gaze locked on Stefan's. "Tell us where to find Bonnie, or things will get ugly."

"You can do whatever you need to do to me. I'm not giving up my friends," Stefan said, his jaw clenching, his eyes flashing.

Rebekah let out a long sigh, and reached over, her fingers trailing along his jaw, tilting his head to the side.

"Look around Stef, all the people in this bar, they have interesting looking drinks in front of them, don't they?" She asked, her voice soft.

Stefan stiffened, his brow furrowing, his gaze sweeping over the bar. All the glasses in front of the patrons seemed to be filled with a bright blue liquid.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice strained.

"Those drinks aren't exactly... safe," Kol chimed in, his tone full of amusement. "It's absolutely horrid what antifreeze can do to a human's internal organs."

"Antifreeze?" Stefan repeated, his eyes widening, a hint of fear flashing across his face.

"Mhm, it's actually a rather effective poison," Kol added, grinning.

"To Stefan Salvatore," Rebekah said, raising her glass, her gaze locking with his.

Stefan watched in horror as all the patrons raised their glasses with her, some holding their cups to their lips, poised to drink. She had compelled the whole bar, and it was a terrifying sight.

"Wait, stop," he stammered, panic rising in his chest.

Rebekah smiled and put her glass down, everyone else doing the same. "Where is Bonnie?"

"Fine," he said, swallowing hard, his pulse racing. "I'll give you her address,"

"Good boy," she said, her smile widening, patting him on the cheek.

"You're psychotic," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Oh, darling, I'm a Mikaelson, this is just a Tuesday for us," she replied, winking at him. "Write down the address,"

Stefan glared at her, but obliged, quickly scribbling down the address on a napkin.

She snatched it from him, and tucked it into her purse, before getting to her feet. Her blonde hair swayed behind her as she turned and headed towards the exit, not looking back.

"Lovely seeing you again, Stef," Kol called out, smirking. He got up and followed her, leaving a defeated Stefan sitting alone.

13th century Europe

Evening mass was almost over, and you were growing more and more bored, wishing you were anywhere else. Your attention was drawn to the window, the full moon hanging low in the sky. It was a beautiful sight, reminding you of your night with Elijah, and the promise he had made. You smiled faintly, a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

You could feel Mother Mathilde's stern gaze fixed on you, and you tried to look serious, straightening in the pew. But the thoughts wouldn't leave your mind. You wondered if he would ask you to marry him, if he would take you away from the convent. A strange sort of longing gripped your heart, and you realized, more than anything, you wanted to be his wife. You wanted to live by his side, grow old with him, share his bed, have his children. The realization surprised you, a wave of panic rising within you, and you swallowed hard, trying to calm yourself.

As the priest finished his final prayer, you joined the others, standing and reciting the closing hymn. Your voice faltered as Mother Mathilde stood, moving to the altar, her expression unreadable. She nodded to the priest and turned to face the congregation.

"There has been some troubling news," she announced, her voice loud and clear, filling the sanctuary.

Your brow furrowed, and you listened, waiting for her to continue.

"There is reason to believe demons may be among us," she continued, her eyes sweeping over the crowd.

Murmurs erupted from the congregation, and you felt a chill run down your spine, your stomach twisting into knots.

"Two of our children were nearly attacked last night in the forest," Mother Mathilde's voice rose, silencing the crowd. "We must be vigilant and pray that God will protect us from this evil."

Your heart was pounding, and you were certain that you had heard her correctly. In the woods? Was it near the same place you had spent the night with Elijah? 

"Be wary of those who tempt you into sin," Mother Mathilde's gaze swept over the room, her eyes stopping on you. "Be mindful of those who wish to lead you astray,”

Your stomach sank, and you felt a rush of embarrassment, a sudden urge to run out of the chapel. You stared at the ground, heat rising in your cheeks, shame burning within you.

"Have any of you been tempted? Speak now so we can root out this evil," the priest called out, his eyes searching the crowd.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down, your heart racing. You knew it was a trap, and yet, you couldn't resist the urge to look at her. You raised your head, catching her gaze, and immediately regretted it. She was staring at you, her expression full of judgment. You felt like a child being scolded, your eyes falling back to the floor, unable to look at her anymore.

"For those who lay with demons are anointed by evil, and must be cleansed," she declared, her voice full of conviction. “We must prevent this sickness from spreading by all means that we possess,”

You couldn't move, frozen in place, panic rising within you. You didn't know what to do, or where to go, so you sat there, waiting, hoping she wouldn't come for you.

The priest began speaking again, and the rest of the congregation joined in, reciting a prayer. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the words, but it was useless. All you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears, the sound of your heart pounding. You were terrified, and all you could think about was running.

Suddenly, there was a commotion behind you, and the chapel door swung open. Several of the nuns rushed in, their faces pale, their eyes wide. They were carrying a limp body between them, and as they laid it on the ground, you realized with horror, that it was Sister Claire.

The other nuns gasped, and several cried out, crossing themselves. You couldn't look away, transfixed by the gruesome scene. Her throat had been torn out, and her blood was everywhere, pooling on the stone floor, staining the white robes of the nuns.

"Dear God," Mother Mathilde exclaimed, her eyes wide, her face ashen.

The priest crossed himself, his voice shaky. "It seems the demons have claimed their first victim."

Elijah was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, studying his reflection. His hair was damp and tousled, his cheeks smooth, his chin freshly shaven. His deep, dark brown eyes, full of secrets and sadness. He could see the weight of his years etched in the lines on his face, the shadows beneath his eyes that refused to fade.

He could feel the ghost of your hands wrapping around his shoulders, see your smiling reflection in the mirror as you gazed at him, your face radiant with happiness. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, allowing himself the dangerous comfort of imagining your touch. It was like being caressed by a shadow… your fingers tracing the contours of his body, exploring the planes and ridges. Your voice echoed softly, teasing and affectionate, calling his name as if you were still there.

"It’s okay to be sad, Eli," you had once told him, pressing a kiss to his neck, your fingers resting over his heartbeat. "You don’t have to carry it all alone."

He felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids and swallowed hard, forcing the memory back. He had been vulnerable enough already, and he couldn’t afford to give in further. Opening his eyes, he steadied his gaze in the mirror, his grip on the sink tightening until his knuckles turned white, his jaw clenched. He had promised to always protect you, and yet, here he was. A failure. The ache in his chest spread, crushing, unrelenting, leaving him feeling like a ship adrift, helpless in the abyss.

He avoided looking at the wedding ring on his finger, a sharp reminder of what he had lost. It felt wrong to take it off, yet the temptation to cast it aside was almost overwhelming.

Turning away from the mirror, he grabbed a towel, drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. Returning to the bedroom, he saw you. Your phantom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"You know it's your fault, right?" you teased, tilting your head. "If you had just left me alone, none of this would have happened."

"I didn’t have a choice," he replied, his voice hoarse, tight with emotion. "I loved you. I couldn’t let you go."

"Liar," you laughed, shaking your head. "You didn’t love me. You wanted to own me, possess me."

"No, I-" he started, but the words caught in his throat.

"You turned me into a monster, corrupted my soul," you hissed, your eyes flashing, a cruel smile tugging at your lips. "You destroyed me, Elijah."

He closed his eyes, turning his face away, unable to look at this twisted version of you. "I’m sorry," he whispered.

"Pathetic," you sneered, contempt dripping from your voice.

He couldn’t bear it anymore, his heart breaking all over again. Retreating to the bathroom, he shut the door behind him, pressing his back against it as he took a shuddering breath, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

"Go away," he whispered, his voice strained.

"No," your voice answered, the doorknob rattling, the door shaking as if it would break under your rage. "You promised to love me, to protect me."

"I know," he murmured, his voice thick with grief and regret. "I know."

"You lied," you spat, the doorknob rattling harder, the door creaking and straining against its hinges.

"Please," he begged, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"Open the door," the voice hissed, rattling the knob with renewed violence, the door cracking under the pressure.

"Go away," he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest, every muscle tensed.

And then, abruptly, there was silence. The only sound was his own heartbeat, thudding in his ears, drowning out everything else.

He stayed still, afraid to move, unsure of what might happen if he did. His entire body felt frozen, rooted to the spot, waiting.

From downstairs, he heard the sounds of Cami, Klaus, and Marcel entering the compound, and he took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain his composure. He couldn’t let them see hin so weak and broken. He knew he couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever.

"Elijah?" Klaus’s voice echoed through the compound, laced with worry.

Clearing his throat, Elijah steadied himself and opened the door. The bedroom was empty, the ghost of you nowhere in sight. He let out a long, uneven sigh, then went down to the courtyard, where Klaus, Cami, and Marcel waited for him.

On the table were at least forty photographs, each one of a different woman. They all looked hauntingly like you.

Elijah frowned, stepping closer, his gaze sweeping over the pictures, brow furrowing as he took in each face.

"What’s this?" he asked, his voice low.

"It’s the list," Klaus answered, his tone grave.

"Of what?" Elijah asked, his confusion mounting.

"Victims," Marcel explained, watching Elijah closely. "Louisiana has a serial killer."

Elijah stiffened, his eyes darkening as he picked up one of the photos, staring at it, his stomach twisting. It was an image of a woman lying in the woods, stab wounds in her hands and feet, her face pale and ashen. She had the same hair as you, the same shape of your mouth. He swallowed hard, anger rising in his chest.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asked, his voice strained.

"We think there might be a connection to your wife’s death," Cami said softly, her eyes full of sympathy.

"This has nothing to do with her," he growled, his fingers gripping the picture.

"They all look just like her, brother," Klaus pointed out, his brow furrowed. "It’s hard to ignore."

"No," Elijah muttered, shaking his head, refusing to accept the implication. "You’re wrong."

"Look at the pictures," Klaus insisted, his voice firm. "It’s too much of a coincidence."

Elijah’s gaze dropped back to the photos, the truth sinking in. It felt like looking at countless versions of you. And yet, none of them were truly you.

"The killer has been operating in Louisiana for years," Cami continued, her voice gentle. "No one has ever gotten close enough to identify the suspect, much less stop them."

"There was a pattern to the murders, at least until recently," Marcel added. "They were all killed in or around churches,"

"My wife wasn't murdered in a church," Elijah said, his voice hard.

"As far as we know," Klaus argued, his eyes flashing. "You found her body in the streets, but it doesn't mean she was killed there."

Elijah let out a frustrated sigh, his jaw clenching. He knew his brother was right, and the thought made his blood boil.

"Whoever did this is a sick bastard," Marcel said, his voice edged with anger. "They take their time, torture their victims for days, even weeks before they kill them."

Elijah's stomach churned, and he set the photo down, his eyes closing, a wave of nausea hitting him. The thought of you suffering like that made his skin crawl, his heart ache.

"I compelled a very friendly detective to let me borrow his files," Klaus said, smirking. "The last crime scene was not too far from here,"

Elijah's eyes snapped open, his gaze locking with his brother's.

"We could take a look," Klaus suggested, his tone cautious. "Maybe there's something there we can use,"

"I'll get my coat," Elijah said, his voice flat.

Klaus nodded, a grim smile tugging at his lips.

Cami sighed, her shoulders sagging, worry etched on her features. Marcel squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, his expression solemn.

"Let's go," Elijah muttered, moving past them, his thoughts racing.

There was no way this was connected to your death, it couldn't be. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a chance. He didn't know what he would do if it was true.

13th century Europe Since the announcement of demons in the village, Mother Mathilde had increased her scrutiny over the sisters. You knew she was watching you, waiting for you to slip up, hoping to catch you in the act of sin. But you were careful, keeping your distance, staying out of her way. Still, she found excuses to punish you, giving you extra chores and longer hours.

"She's going to work you until your fingers bleed," Sister Margaret said, her voice hushed.

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, though you felt anything but. "It's nothing I can't handle,"

Sister Margaret looked at you, her eyes full of concern. "Still, it isn't right. You haven't done anything wrong."

You swallowed, thinking of the night you spent with Elijah, the promises he made. Had you been foolish? Had you led him to Sister Claire, causing her death? A wave of guilt washed over you, and you shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away.

"I'll be fine," you insisted, forcing a smile.

"If you say so," Sister Margaret sighed, turning her attention back to the task at hand.

You worked in silence, scrubbing the floors, your thoughts drifting. You couldn't stop thinking about Elijah, the way he held you, the promises he made. A part of you feared him, what temptation he had brought into your life. Another part was drawn to him, the desire still lingering within you.

You felt tainted, dirty, knowing that he was a demon. Still, there was a part of you that longed for him, the desire pulsing deep within you. You couldn't explain it, the way he made you feel, the way he changed your life. It was like a force of nature, powerful and all-consuming.

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up, surprised to see Sister Margaret rushing towards it.

"I'll get it," she called, hurrying to the front of the convent.

You continued working, but your curiosity was piqued, wondering who had come to the door. You heard the muffled voices of Sister Margaret and the visitor, but you couldn't make out what they were saying.

"She's here, she'll see you," Sister Margaret said, her voice sounding surprised.

You straightened, wiping your hands on your apron, wondering who the visitor was.

Sister Margaret returned, her eyes wide, a hint of panic in her voice. "There is a nobleman here to see you... Lord Mikaelson,"

You swallowed, feeling a mixture of dread and excitement. What was he doing here? Why did he want to see you?

"Tell him I'm not available," you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady.

Sister Margaret frowned, studying you. "Is something wrong?"

You shook your head, unable to meet her eyes. "No, everything is fine, I just... I don't feel well. Tell him I can't see him,"

She hesitated, her eyes full of concern. "I'm sorry, but he's very insistent. He says it's urgent."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "Fine, I'll speak with him. Just give me a moment."

Sister Margaret nodded and turned, leaving you alone. You took a few moments to compose yourself, knowing that whatever Elijah had come for, it wouldn't be good. You smoothed your hair, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You walked down the corridor, stepping into the reception room. The space was sparsely furnished, with only a few chairs and a small table. The walls were bare, save for a cross and a painting of the Virgin Mary.

You could see Elijah standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked out of place, dressed in a fine tunic and cloak, the sunlight casting a glow on his pale skin.

You stood in the doorway, unable to move, feeling a strange mixture of emotions.

"You shouldn't be here," you said finally, your voice trembling slightly.

He turned, his gaze locking on yours. "Neither should you,"

"What are you doing here?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I need to speak with you, in private," he replied, his voice low.

You glanced around, looking for Sister Margaret, but she was nowhere in sight. "This isn't the place," you said, shaking your head.

He approached, a hint of desperation in his eyes. "Please, just give me a moment of your time."

You hesitated, your mind racing. You knew you should send him away, but your gaze dropped to his lips, remembering the way he had kissed you, the way he had touched you.

"Tonight, in the place we went before," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt a flush of heat, the memory of that night washing over you. "I can't,"

"You have to," he said, his voice urgent. "Meet me there."

You bit your lip, torn between fear and desire. Finally, you nodded, unable to deny the pull he had on you.

"Tonight," he repeated, a flicker of relief in his eyes. He turned, walking towards the door, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll be waiting."

You stood rooted to the spot, watching as he disappeared through the doorway, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall.

"What did he want?" Sister Margaret asked, startling you from your thoughts.

"I'm not sure," you lied, swallowing hard.

"Well, he seemed upset," she said, her voice full of concern. "Perhaps you should talk to Mother Mathilde."

You shook your head, the thought making your stomach churn. "No, it's not necessary."

Sister Margaret studied you for a moment, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Don't stray from His light, sister," she warned, before turning and walking away.

You watched her go, her words echoing in your mind. You had already strayed, you thought, a wave of guilt washing over you. But what choice did you have? Your heart was drawn to Elijah, despite the danger, despite the consequences. He had stolen your heart, and you knew there was no going back.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3. Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6. Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9. Chapter 10. - Chapter 11

Word count: 1310

Chapter 11:

Jen grabbed the boy and brought him to her side, instructing him on how to swirl. You were not sure why, but you speculated she was too anxious to focus on it, and you did not blame her.

For a first trial, this was intense, and you did not wish to think of what would come next.

"Eeryone, pull a strand of hair outta your head now." Jen suddenly instructed, and you all obeyed, with Alice even taking a strand from Sharon's head. "A single hair only. Everybody, hurry up."

You all threw the single piece of hair into the swirling boiling water, except for Agatha. As she was ready to do that, she froze and stared at something that you could not see.

It was her time to face her nightmare.

You were not sure what it was, but the fear crawling on her face was not something that you liked. Her illusion was small, but it was enough to send her to the floor with a loud gasp, eyes wide staring at nothing as tears were fighting to escape.

You glanced at the clock, seeing the time being way less than before and you acted on impulse. You stood behind Agatha and after you muttered an apology, you pulled a piece of her hair.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed and looked at you with a hurt expression, but you figured it was mostly shock from your actions.

"Sorry" you said and tossed the hair into the water.

The other witches tried to ask Agatha what she saw, but she refused to answer, turning the focus back on the potion.

Yet you could not help but steal glances at her; seeing her how hard she was fighting to keep her composure in front of the others.

Whatever she has faced has shaken her to the core, and you knew only one thing could truly do that...

Her son

You never learnt what happened to him, and she always refused to tell you, going as far as to raise her tone when you tried to push the topic.

So, you let it go and simply waited, hoped, for the day she would open up to you. You had met that boy when he was very young, and while you never had the chance to bond with him properly, you were always wondering what happened to him.

For the day it all went downhill, that boy took with him the bigger part of Agatha's heart and light.

"We need to clasp hands..." Jen instructed, your focus on her again. "...and clear your minds. Once our intentions are aligned, it will glow bright cerulean."

Alice glanced around her. "Yeah. What're our intentions again?"

"To not die."

And so you did that, pouring all your intentions of surviving the first trial.

You dared to open one eye and once again was disappointed to find that your effort did not work with the first time.

Why? Because the colour of the potion should be blue, and this was clearly a shade of green.

"I must have forgot something." Jen exclaimed as panic started to rise within her.

Teen dared to glance at the clock. "One minute left."

You felt your heart beating faster and you looked at the worried potions witch. "What did you forget?" You asked, hands placed firmly against the marble surface.

Jen, feeling the weight of the situation, took a step back. "I don't know! I've never made this potion before! I make retinol serums, for Christ's sake!"

"Fifty seconds."

You glanced at the boy. "Shouting the time is not really helping here!" You snapped back, realizing that if Jen suddenly got cold feet; you were all dead.

Surpringly, it was Agatha who took the initiative. She grabbed the witch from her upper arms and stared dead into her dark eyes.

"I have always hated you... but I left you alone because what you were doing was important. Not this Kale Kare crap, the real work. You can be that witch again. They can take your power, Jen, but they can't take your knowledge."

Silence enveloped the room, everyone looking at Jen for the missing ingredient; feeling bout to pass out from the worry and the stress they were all experiencing.

"Blood. We need the blood of the unpoisoned."

It was Alice who gathered the courage and checked the clock. "Thirty seconds."

Agatha did not hesitate to grab a huge kitchen knife. With her free hand, she grabbed the boy's wrist and, with the other, cut a deep enough slash. "Thanks for being underage."

The move shocked everyone, but Agatha paid no mind as she guided the boy's hand over the boiling water, letting the droplets of blood fall in.

A sigh of relief left your lips when it turned blue and you wasted no time dunking your glasses into the water before hastily drinking the antidote; just as you were in the last ten seconds of the countdown.

However, the timer did not stop after you drank the antidote and it took you all a few precious seconds to be reminded that Sharon had not taken it since she laid unconscious on the couch.

By the last second, you managed to empty the cup into her lips, and by the faint movement of her limps; it was evident that she was also alive.

A clicking sound startled you all before it was noticed that the oven door had opened on its own.

You were the first to walk toward it, perhaps the bravest, and you were surprised to see some never-ending slide leading Gods knew where.

"I think this is our exit," you said as the others gathered around you.

"I am not climbing in an oven" Lilia argued. "That happened to a friend of mine, she had a lovely house, and she ended up..."

Her storytelling was cut short as the windows broke, and saltwater started to fill the house at a terrifying pace.

You stared at it with wide eyes as the dark blue waters were coming your way. You were a good swimmer and you always found something nice at the salty smell of a sea breeze but even this was out of your league.

Lilia moved first, now longer hesitating to enter the oven and slide down; followed by Jen.

You waited for Agatha to join y before she could, Teen and Alice reminded you that Sharon was still left behind.

"We don't know what happens if we leave her behind." Alice argued.

You knew she was right, and honestly, Sharon should not die like that; not when it was never her fault for ending up on the Road.

You turned to Agatha. "Go, I will go help them"

Surpringly, your lover did not agree as she once again grabbed your wrist. "No, you go down that oven"

Yet you stubbornly stared her in the eye, not moving an inch. "No, you are, or you are helping me with Mrs. Davis"

Agatha wanted to argue, to grab you by the back of your neck and shove you down that slide. She wished to scold you to for suddenly being both selfless and annoyingly stubborn.

In the end, she gave up.

"Fine!" She spat, and you both joined to help carry the unconscious human towards the oven.

By now, the floors had flooded, and the water was rising fast; making your fear it would block your way to the oven and your only exit if you were late.

Thankfully, you all managed to push her down the slide and followed suit. This time, it was Alice who stayed behind.

She watched you go after Agatha, and as she sat by the edge, she grabbed the oven door and closed it behind her before letting gravity and water pull her down the unknown slide.

Chapter 12

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

Mother of Humanity

Adam sat underneath his favorite tree in all of Eden. The one where he and Lucifer would spend their time under the shade laughing, talking, and sometimes even singing together. Nowadays he would go to when he needed a place to think. It had been about a month since both Lilith and Lucifer left, and a month since the angels had decided what to do with the stake of humanity on hold. Lilith was meant to be Adam's wife, the mother of humanity. Instead, she chose to throw all of that away while taking Lucifer with her.

That left them with a difficult decision, should they make a new woman? For what if she turned out exactly like Lilith and abandoned her duties as well? And the next one, and the next one, what if no matter how many times they try to create a new woman she would turn out the exact same? Then like a flash it hit them, they already had a loyal human who could play that part without question, Adam! Now, some might be confused, Adam was the first man, the future father of humanity, his body was not meant to carry children only produce.

That was when they got the most genius idea to become a woman. Only half the time though! By day he would be a man and at night he would be a woman, Eve, they would call him when in that form. They explained however that when he was finally blessed with a child, for nine months he would be stuck in his Eve form. Then when the baby was finally born, he would return to his natural form. Until night fell or the blessing happened again.

The angel's crisis regarding the true beginning of mankind was over and humanity would finally blossom and spread Earth. When Earth was finally suitable for humans until then Adam and the first generation of humans would stay in Eden. So long as they followed the one rule of course. As for Adam, he felt conflicted, though he always did dream of getting to become pregnant, it was always his angel who fulfilled that wish as they started a family. He loved Lucifer, yet he chose that horrible, horrible witch over him. Not to mention that the elders didn't even bother with asking him what he thought or what he wanted, they simply gave him this new responsibility.

Now he sat in his Eve form, and he looked the same, he now just had a vagina, large breasts, that were slightly bigger than Lilith's, a curvaceous backside and torso, long brown hair, and no facial hair whatsoever. All in all, it was Adam but now as a woman. Yet one feature of his body never changes his warm brown eyes. He sighed once more staring up at the shining rays of the moon. That's when he heard it, 'swoosh' 'swoosh'. The sound of heavy wings descending, he stood up prepared to greet one of the elders, hopefully, Sera, when he gasped. In the distance, a familiar angel stood with a familiar-looking woman. Not wasting any time, he sprinted his way over to the couple.

Adam: LUCI! LILY! OVER HERE, ITS ME!

The two turned in shock as a woman came tumbling toward them. Assuming it was Adam's new bride that they both heard of being created they stood to attention. Lucifer stepped forward ready to greet the second woman when he was cut off surprised by the second woman scooping him into her arms and giving him a great bear hug. He blushed as his head was smushed in between her sizeable bosom. It caused Lilith to stare bitterly at the sight. Once Lucifer was out of her hold he looked up at her beaming face. His brows furrowed as he saw tears start to fall from those strangely familiar eyes. Yet the smile still remained

Adam: Oh Luci, I missed you so much! I thought you were gone forever. The angels told me you wouldn't return, but you did, you really did. It doesn't matter though I'm just so glad you're back! You finally came back, for me, right? Because you know I love you, right?

Lucifer's eyes widen to the sizes of dinner plates, this woman not only acted as if she knew him since forever, but just declared her love to him.

Adam: Luci? What's wrong Lucifer?

Lucifer: (gulps) How, how do you know my name?

Adam: Luci it's me, I know I don't look like myself, but it really is me. It's your best friend Luci

Lucifer took a full minute to scan her face trying to see if she was in any way joking or lying. It was when he started to really stare deeply into her eyes, those eyes. Now he knew why they looked so familiar, those eyes, they were, she was,

Lucifer: ...Adam?

@kittenfangirl20

[professorsnape394]

Seducing Mr Malfoy

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x Reader Rating: 🥵 Summary: Lucius teaches his son how to properly treat a woman.

A/N: First time ever writing for Lucius. Please let me know what you all think of it!

Warnings: Violence (one instance of Domestic abuse?). Smut. Slapping kink. Degradation kink. Voyeurism. Oral (male receiving).

Word Count: 2569

Credits to Gif Creator.

Since his divorce Lucius had been living the high life as one of the wealthiest bachelors of the Wizarding World. Having been with Narcissa since leaving school he had never had much opportunity to sow his oats and truly explore the litany of woman at his disposal. It seemed now, that he was able to have whoever he wanted for however long he wanted; women loved a man in power, and Lucius had an abundance of it.

His son, Draco, on the other hand, was not coping quite so well in the absence of his mother, taking inspiration from his father to plough through a number of young witches’ keen to experience a taste of the Malfoy life, but never quite seeming satisfied by any of them.

Frustratingly, the kind of life Lucius led also required him to put in the work to retain his prestigious position at the Ministry of Magic. Which is what led him to working over the weekend in his home office, depriving him of the much-needed female attention he had quickly become addicted to.

Scribbling away furiously at his desk, Lucius was eager to finish his work and hit the town, leaving his son the privacy of the Manor to entertain his new girlfriend. Lucius usually never took an interest in the revolving door of young witches that passed through his house on the arm of his son, but his most recent girl had caught his attention on a number of occasions this week.

The first time Lucius saw her was fleeting. As he headed out the door as Draco was coming home, the young lady stopped him in his tracks. Usually, he would have ignored the woman, greeting his son with a brief nod before disappearing out the door, but something about her confidence to address him, intrigued him.  

“Mr Malfoy.” She greeted, stopping firmly at his feet.  “Y/N L/N. It’s a Pleasure to finally meet you.”

She held out her hand for him to take. He quirked an eyebrow at the firmness of her grip, impressed by her boldness.

“And you.” He stated simply, crushing her hand and flicking his gaze over her face.

While her clothing was similar to any other woman that he encountered these days; short and low cut. Her features drew him in unlike anyone ever had. Her doe like eyes made her look innocent, but the crimson shade on her lips told a different story altogether. Lucius could see why his son had chosen such a rare beauty.

She gazed up at him through a curtain of thick lashes, refusing to be the one to let go first.

“Hurry up.” Draco snapped, yanking her by the arm. “I didn’t bring you here to make small talk with my father.”

“I apologise for taking up your time, Mr Malfoy. I hope I see you again.” She flashed him a smile, idly nibbling on her plump bottom lip.

Lucius’ gaze latched on her mouth once more, finding it hard to drag himself away.

Finally, Draco stormed off, leaving the witch to scurry after him. Lucius couldn’t help but watch the sway of her hips as she sashayed her way up the grand staircase.

~

The second time he encountered Y/N, he heard her before he saw her.

After a long day at the office, Lucius crashed onto his bed exhausted, not even bothering to change out of his suit.

He awoke hours later, feeling groggy and uncomfortable. It was one of the rare nights he missed having his wife around to take care of him. Attempting to drown away the thoughts of his ex, Lucius poured himself a glass of aged whiskey and strolled to the bathroom to shower stresses of the day away.

It was on his return from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel, that his ears pricked up at a sound from down the hall.

“Oh God, oh God.” The woman’s muffled moan echoed out the room.

His son’s voice murmured a string of curses, followed by the sound of a hard slap. This seemed to only spurred the witch on; her moans turning from high pitched and fast, to long a long and throaty groan.

Lucius’ feet carried him towards the door without thought, finding it slightly ajar.

“Fuck. Please Draco.” She begged.

Another few harsh slaps sent the woman overboard. She reached her climax in a series of pants and whines, her voice growing louder as she came.

Lucius slowed his breathing, recklessly approaching the threshold. His dick had quickly become painfully hard, the friction of his tip rubbing against the towel driving him mad with desire. Taking a sip of his half-finished whiskey, Lucius dared peak through the crack in the door.

His eyes quickly landed on bed, the woman lying face up, panting breathlessly. Her bare chest rising and falling erratically with each breath. Lucius’ gaze roamed her naked body, stroking himself roughly over the fabric of the towel. His attention quickly turned to Y/N’s face, flushed with colour, cheeks burning red from the smack of Draco’s hand and her mascara had run down her face with tears. Lucius might have been worried she was in pain, were it not for the wild grin spreading from cheek to cheek.

In an instant Draco grabbed her roughly by her hair, flipping her body until she was lying face down on the mattress, ass perfectly positioned up. Lucius took a step away from the door, just in time to see the girl turning her head in his direction, staring mindlessly at the door while Draco rutted into her from behind. The older Malfoy watched on quietly from the shadows, alternating between sipping on his drink and tugging himself sore at the sight of Y/N’s eyes rolling back in her head.

Returning to his room, Lucius felt both dirty and unsatisfied, having not had the courage to finish himself off at risk of his son hearing his feral grunts. Putting his moment of impulsiveness down to feeling lonely and overworked, Lucius retired to his bed for the night, but not before downing the rest of the bottle of whiskey he kept on his dresser.

The following morning Lucius awoke with a pounding headache and an incredibly dry throat. Memories of the night before flooded his brain. He expected to feel shame over his actions, but instead he found himself replaying the images and the sounds of the woman over in his head, wishing he had been the one to illicit that kind of reaction from her. At risk of developing another erection, he forced himself out of bed, wandering down to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water.

A tortured groan slipped past Lucius lips at the sight he stumbled upon in his kitchen.

Y/N stood alone in the middle of his kitchen, wearing only a pair small pair of gym shorts and a crop top, stretching to reach one of the higher cabinets, placing her body perfectly on show for him to gawk at. Lucius’ eyes raked over her body, lasering in on her perky little ass and reminiscing on how completely edible she looked bent over last night.

“You know we have House Elves that can get that for you.” He finally spoke, leaning idly on the kitchen island.

The girl jumped at the sound of his voice, spinning on a heel to face him.

“Mr Malfoy. I didn’t hear you come down.” The view of her front was just as good; her breasts spilling over the neckline of her tight top, hard nipples on show from the chilly air that circulated the Manor.

“Mmm.” He hummed appreciatively. “I can be quite discreet when it serves me.”

“I noticed.” She stated plainly, staring directly into his eyes.

Lucius quirked an eyebrow stunned by her acknowledgment. Pushing himself from the counter, he slowly stalked towards her.

“Is that so?”

“You think I was being that loud for your son’s benefit?” She moved in closer, battling her long lashes at him as they came practically chest to chest.

“Speaking of Draco, where is my son?”

“He’s still asleep, probably won’t be up for hours yet.”

“Mmm.” Lucius hummed again, reaching out to brush a thumb along her lips. “Then is it a shame?”

“A shame, Mr Malfoy?” The girl searched his face for any insight into his thoughts.

“A shame I have to be heading into the office this morning.”

Y/N face fell at his words. Lucius took the woman’s chin between two fingers, tilting her gaze up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t be so loud, next time. He’ll think you’re enjoying it far too much.”

And with that Lucius disappeared from the room, leaving Y/N alone in the kitchen, squeezing her legs to fight off the quickly developed ache between her legs.  

~

The next time he saw Y/N enough time had passed that she had been on Lucius’ mind more often than appropriate for his son’s new girlfriend. Draco hadn’t brought her home in a few days and Lucius was starting to miss the sweet sounds that he liked to get himself off to every night that week.

Returning home from yet another tough day at work; Lucius ditched his coat at the door and headed straight for his whiskey cabinet, ready to drown himself in thoughts of her. He made it half way to the kitchen before his attention was drawn elsewhere. Soft cries floated through the house; a familiar voice pleading through broken sobs.

His sons voice; harsh and indignant, had him charging up the stairs.

“I said; Get. On. Your. Fucking. Knees.” The younger of the Malfoy men, pushed the woman roughly to the ground; her knees smashing sorely onto the hardwood floors.

“Draco.” She sniffled, tears steaming down her face. The smile that once brightened her face long forgotten.

“Disobedient Bitch.” He spat.

With his heavily ringed right hand, Draco backhanded Y/N across the face.

The woman gasped from the force, quickly covering her cheek to ease the pressure.

Using his cane to catch onto his son’s collar, Lucius dragged his son away from Y/N.

“Draco.” He hissed into the boy’s ear, crushing his shoulder under his tight grip. “What exactly is going on here.”

Lucius dared to flick his eyes down to the woman now hunched over on the ground.

“She likes it.” He snapped back. “She gets off on shit like this; she’s sick.”

“It doesn’t look like she is enjoying it to me.”

“It’s none of your- “

“SILENCE.” Lucius commanded his son. “I thought I taught you to treat women better than this.”

He stepped slowly in Y/N’s direction, stopping just in front of her knees. He took her face in his hand, tilting her chin to look up at him as he had done the last time they met.

“A woman like this deserves the utmost care and attention. She should be worshipped. Not beaten to the ground like a common Elf.” He used his thumb to wipe away her tears, gently stroking the bright red imprint on her cheek.

“If that is something you do not understand, then you do not deserve to have her at all. She deserves more. Someone who understands the nuances of women. Someone who will treat her like a Queen during the day; and punish her like the slut she is at night.”

Y/N’s wicked grin returned, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip as she pictured Lucius doing everything to her that he just promised. Her eyes dropped forward to his crotch; it didn’t come as a surprise to her that he was already hard just from seeing her on her knees like this.

“Is that what you want, Darling?”

She liked the dryness from her lips, blinking up at him through teary eyes and nodded.

Lucius reached for the buckle of his belt, starting to undo the fastening of his trousers.

“Leave us, Draco.”

“But Father.” The boy stuttered, dumbfounded by the situation unfolding before him.

“I said LEAVE. Unless you want to feel the sting of my hand across your face.”

The boy stumbled from the room, leaving his father and girlfriend alone in the thick silence of the Manor.

Y/N leaned into Lucius’ touch as he cupped her cheek and finished undoing his belt.

“I’ve been waiting for this all week.”

Lucius groaned at her words, putting his hand down his unzipped trousers, easing some of the tension in his boxers.

“Don’t tell me you were thinking of me the whole time you were fucking my good-for-nothing son.”

“What if I told you I was only fucking him to get to you. That every night I made sure to moan loud enough for you to hear in the hopes that you would burst through the door and take me just for yourself. I wanted you to show him how it was done, how I sounded when I came all over your cock.”

“Mmm. Draco was right about one thing; you are sick.”

“What if I told you I got tired of waiting. That I came here tonight with the intention of seducing you.” She paused before deciding whether to continue. “I told Draco I was ending things with him tonight.”

Understanding dawned on Lucius.

“Is that why he was acting that way? Because you broke it off with him.”

Y/N nodded, dropping her gaze.

“That boy is not used to being told ‘no’. He never deserved you.”

“Let’s not talk about Draco anymore. He’s taken up more of my time than I would ever want.”

Y/N ran her hands up Lucius’ thighs, jumping up to her knees again.

“Ready, Sweetheart?”

Lucius pulled his dick from his trousers, pumping himself roughly in front of her lips, precum already dripping from his tip.

Y/N stuck her tongue out eagerly, licking the length of his slit clean. Lucius removed his hands allowing, Y/N to take charge.

Watching her wrap her lips around his cock, Lucius hissed at the contact.

Almost instantly she gagged from the size of him hitting the back of her throat.

“Relax.” He ordered. “Take your time.”

Y/N sat back on her haunches, this time taking him slowly into her mouth. She swirled her tongue leisurely around his tip, making sure he was fully lubricated before sucking him up an inch at a time.

Good Girl.” He hummed, tipping her chin up again, wanting to maintain eye contact with her.

Lucius kept his hands on either side of her face, gently guiding her movements. She bobbed her head rhythmically, savouring every second of finally tasting him in her mouth.

“Keep going, Darling, that feels incredible.” Lucius encouraged.

“Mmmm.”

Y/N whined, finally feeling his tip hit the back of her throat, threatening to surpass the boundary. She rubbed her thighs together but to no avail, the throbbing ache that had started between her legs would not be so easily satiated. Delving her fingers beneath the band of her underwear Y/N slipped her fingers between her folds, focusing on rubbing circles around her clit.

“You have no patience.” Lucius scolded, eyes lowering on her body. “You’ll get what you need soon enough.”

Lucius pulled Y/N to her feet, his cock coming out his mouth with a pop.

“How about I show you exactly what I have been dreaming about all week?”

Her doe eyes slanted seductively at his words.

“Lead the way, Mr Malfoy.”

. . . Taglist:

@pear-1206

[cinnabunwanda]

I CANT HELP BUT LOVE YOU OKAY? ˗ˏˋ꒰ WANDA . MAXIMOFF꒱ -> drabble

content warning —fluff only!!

pairing —fem reader x Wanda Maximoff

summary —Tony and Steve discuss your sexuality, with Natasha, Bucky, Bruce, Peter, and Wanda joining the conversation. Stark and Cap try to determine your sexuality.

word count —  0.6k

As you descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, you caught snippets of conversation from the team gathered there. The voices echoed off the walls and mingled into a cacophony of chatter.

Man 1: There's no way she's straight. She radiates top energy.

Man 2: Straight women can be tops too, you know.

Man 1: She called the witch 'Princess', that is not straight behavior.

You rolled your eyes, used to their playful banter by now, and made your way into the kitchen. "Morning," you greeted Tony and Steve with a smile before turning to see Clint perched on the vents above. You chuckled at his unconventional entrance.

"Good Morning, Y/n!" he called out with a grin. You settled into a chair at the table, facing your teammates who were clearly surprised by Clint's presence.

"So, what were you two idiots talking about?" You grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and sat on the chair backwards, resting your arms on the backrest.

"Hey," Tony protested with mock offense, "he's the idiot, I'm a genius."

"Yeah, a genius who sucks at evasion," you countered wryly. Turning to Clint, you asked, "So what were they discussing?"

"They were trying to figure out if you're gay or not," Clint replied with a mischievous smirk. You couldn't help but laugh out loud at their childish antics.

"Really boys?" Steve looked away sheepishly while Tony shrugged nonchalantly. Just then, the rest of the team filed into the room. Natasha, Bucky, Bruce, Peter, and Wanda all took their seats around the table after grabbing their respective breakfast items. Natasha broke the silence first.

"So what topic brought the conversation in here to a crashing halt?"

"Stark and Cap were trying to figure out if I'm gay," you explained with a shake of your head. Natasha snorted under her breath, not buying their absurd line of questioning.

"Seriously boys? I've never met anyone more obviously a lesbian than Y/n," she deadpanned, her signature smirk making an appearance. You couldn't help but feel a hint of joy at the rare display of emotion from her. Pushing it aside, you focused on the rest of your teammates.

"You all know I'm a lesbian, so what about the rest of you?" Tony answered first with a cool confidence, "Straight."

When you turned to Steve, his cheeks grew red and his eyes silently begged for you to move on. Not wanting to cause any discomfort, you moved onto Bucky who replied with a non-committal shrug, "Uh, I think the word is bisexual." You nodded in acknowledgement before turning to Natasha.

"Tasha?" She smirked knowingly, "Yes." You nodded once more and then looked at Peter.

"Kid? Are you straight?" Peter shook his head uncertainly, "I-I don't think so, Miss Y/n." Not sure how to respond, you simply nod and take a bite of food. That's when Tony broke the silence again.

"Wanda, what about you?" You watched as Wanda's face flushed a deep shade of red before stuttering out an answer, "I-I'm straight." Trying not to laugh, you took another bite of your banana but ended up choking on it when Wanda called out defensively towards you.

"I am straight!" she insisted with fiery determination. After catching your breath, you nodded understandingly but before you could say anything else, JARVIS interrupted with an important message.

"Mr. Stark, Director Fury has sent you a mission." As you all filed out of the kitchen to attend to your respective tasks for the day, you pinned Wanda against the wall for a moment. Leaning close enough so only she would hear you, you whispered with a hint of challenge in your tone.

"If you're straight, then why do I know how you taste?" Without waiting for an answer, you pushed off the wall and walked away, feeling her gaze burning into your back as you exited the room.

©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.