#the prompt was witch?? witches??? btw

[captaindamianos]

[lunarharp]

day 3 - exchanging “love letters” and some greying hair

[annaholak]

"Oh no you don't. Not on my watch."

Inktober - Prompt 9: Nest

[sirenspells]

It is imperative you guys know that witch sunny is still an absolute dork. Living out by himself in the woods for four years has definitely given him some confidence, and having magic powers certainly helps, but he’s still terrified of spiders and always has Omori kill them for him even though he could easily obliterate one with a snap of his fingers. He’s famous in the stray cat community for feeding them and being able to understand them and his house is visited by at least three cats a day. When he’s bored (which is often) he’s using his illusion powers to create what are effectively hyper realistic animations. He hasn’t gone to school since 6th grade.

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 3:

Shutting the door to your house, you slide down to the floor, back against the door. Your hands come up to your chest, clutching the fabric of your shirt, heart racing.

Looking around the room, you felt suffocated. Every inch of the wall had some reminder of your husband, paintings, photographs, newspaper clippings of every accomplishment and accolade of his. It made you want to tear your hair out.

A silent scream leaves your throat as tears run down your face. Silent crying was something you've mastered after all these years..

But never have you cried and broken down like this, with something giving you a glimmer of hope. That something was Alastor, he made you feel appreciated, you felt free when you were with him, like all your worries were washed away and you were helplessly in love.

With the realization that you were in love, your hands fell to the ground with a quiet thud. For too long had you suffered the control, the physical and mental abuse at the hands of your husband and your family that only saw you as a pawn- a means to an end for them.

The tears dried up as you sat there silently for hours till the sun rose, feeling like an empty husk of a human. It took you a long time before you could collect yourself.

Though you felt so weak, you had to go out and do some errands. Having to keep up the image of perfect housewife, after all.

With a vacant and empty look in your eyes, you left the house, barely presentable.

You didn't even know what you were going out for, but you'd find something, anything.

During your walk around town, looking for something to buy so you wouldn't go home empty-handed, an odd feeling and urge came over you to take a route home that you've never taken before.

The way you took this time was full of twists and turns, leading to many shady backstreets and alleyways.

One sign reading "Arabella's Apothecary" caught your eye, prompting you to enter.

The door opens with a chime, the shopkeeper giving you a smug smile, "Welcome in dear, how can I help ya this fine morn'?" You nervously tell her that you were just looking around.

The shopkeeper, who you found out was indeed Arabella, like the sign outside indicated, "You know, people don't just come in here for nothin'... Hun, I think we both know you're looking for a key to freedom."

Arabella's words shook you to your core, "A... key? T-to freedom?" You laugh nervously, wondering if this woman was a witch. But then it came to you, maybe you did need... something.

She laughed at your face, "Bwahaha, I can read you like an open book! I'm no witch, I just deal in... specialty medicines, you might say."

After a short conversation with Arabella, you find yourself in possession of some arsenic. This little powder was your freedom, and you thank your lucky stars that fate guided to this back alley hidden apothecary shop.

During the week of your husband's absence, you didn't visit Mimzy's bar at all, actually. You were planning your husband's demise. You had to be methodical, careful, every single minute detail needed to have a plan and a backup plan- including your escape and how you would remove yourself from suspicion of being involved in your husband's death.

When your husband opened the door, announcing his return, you felt a pit form in your stomach. The bile rose in the back of your throat at the thought of freedom being so close and yet so far.

According to your plan, your husband would be dead in the next couple of weeks. It would be hell to not visit Mimzy's bar in hopes of seeing Alastor again, but if everything went according to plan, you'd be free of your shackles. So two weeks, give or take a few days, was nothing compared to the near decade of pain you've had to endure.

There were a few close calls during this time, but your husband was just diagnosed with food poisoning each time until he was found dead at his desk at the office he worked at.

You had slowly poisoned him slowly and consistently enough to evade suspicion. You knew this much when the police came knocking on your door informing you that your husband was found dead. The gates holding back the flood were unlocked, and you crumpled to the floor crying. The police tried to console you, but little did they know that you secretly crying from being overjoyed at the news.

At the funeral, your family and in-laws looked at you with distaste and all they did was tell you to get out of their faces, telling you what a disappointment you were for failing as a wife to keep your husband happy and healthy.

That was all you needed to hear. You turned away from them and left town, not bothering to stop by your home. You left only with the clothes on your body, making your way to Mimzy's bar. If anyone was able to help you, it would be Mimzy, your only true friend in the world.

You get to Mimzy's bar a bit too early, sometime in the evening, as usually the bar only opens late at night. So Mimzy was prepared to ward off any suspicious people that could get the bar/speakeasy in trouble, but she rushed up to you immediately, fawning over you, seeing you in all-black funeral attire with puffy eyes, " (Y/N)! Darlin'!! What happened to you??"

Mimzy ushers you into her office, gives you a warm cup of tea and a blanket as she barrages you with more questions. You smile weakly at her and make her promise not to tell a soul, and she pinky promised that she would take your secrets to the grave. And she kindly offered for you to stay with her as long as you needed.

You took Mimzy up on her offer, but you offered to help out at the bar for as long as you did. It was the only way you would accept her generosity.

-> Part 4

[cookierunauprompts]

Yo, is me, I was one of the anons with this prompt

“Idea, reader cookie wakes up from a nightmare and runs into pure vanilla and tells him what happened to them, he reassures them that they’ll be fine, and offering them to stay in his room for the night…little do they know, for that is not pure vanilla…”

Uh-if ya wanna do it that’s cool

I'm pretty sure the last time you sent this the ask bx was closed but Sure! I'm happy to do it now.

Set in the Warden!Reader Timeline btw, plus Warden Reader Lore. Under the cut because it's pretty long.

Requested Prompts #46 - 💔💓

You are the Warden of the Great Seal, created by the Witches to keep the sealed Beasts in check. Nothing more, nothing less. You patrol the realm of the seal tirelessly, perhaps day in day out. But you never knew what time it was there, nor how much time had passed. You just know that it's long judging by Eternal Sugar's complaints. After all, you are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. It was the purpose the Witches made you for, right? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. " But there HAS to be something more, right?" A voice nags at you, interrupting your patrol. You cannot identify its source, its likely just one of the Beasts messing with you again. You're almost like a chew toy to them. You can't even begin to recount the amount of times you've been torn apart, you tend to keep your distance from Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar. But it's fine, they are contained. You're doing a good job. They can't escape, they won't escape. You can't escape, you won't ever escape. You are the Warden of the Seal, nothing more, nothing less. You aren't meant to be anyone else. But what if you are? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Who were you before you were the warden? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you hear that breaking sound? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you smell that scent? You are the Warden of the Seal, keeping the Seal closed is your job. Can you taste that fresh air? You are the Warden of the Seal. Can you see the empty prisons? You may just suck at your job. Can you feel that you're alive?

----

You awake with a sharp gasp, grabbing your spear from next to where you were laying down. A bed, your mind supplies you with. More specifically, it's a bed in the... uh, where are you again? Come to think of it, there isn't supposed to be any beds inside the seal. So then where are you? And what happened? " Miss Warden?" You hear a voice, you quickly point your weapon at the source and- Oh, it's just Pure Vanilla Cookie. You slowly lowered your spear. " My apologies, but it seemed like you were having a nightmare. Are you alright?" " I- I'm fine. It was just a dream after all." You deflect, and you swear that for just a moment you can see Pure Vanilla Cookie's eye twitch. You remembered where you are now, this was the Faerie Kingdom. It was the home of the Silver Tree, otherwise known as the seal, and you'd left the seal to chase after Shadow Milk Cookie since he'd escaped(momentarily, you remind yourself). The main problem, was that White Lily Cookie had re-sealed Shadow Milk into the seal without you. So naturally, you were on edge. " Are you sure?" Pure Vanilla questioned you. " You did look quite disturbed, Little Warden. If there's anything troubling you, then don't be afraid to tell us." He then offered with a kind smile, it was nice of him to do so in fact. Except, there was just one thing that had made you skeptical. Sure, it was something nice but... " ... 'Little Warden'? You muttered aloud, just enough for Pure Vanilla to hear you. Wasn't Pure Vanilla at least a head shorter than you? So then why would he... Actually, wait. Pure Vanilla hadn't gone through a growth-spurt, right? Because he was simply too tall- Wait. Your formerly appreciative expression falters into a neutral grimace, you could smell the ash from the flames of chaos outside. You could see the cracks in his disguise, in fact, you could even see the maze you'd been trapped in with your new allies sitting on the drawers as if it were an innocent snow-globe, the maze also seemed to be contained in said snow-globe. You point your spear at him again, now knowing who he truly is. " Shadow Milk Cookie." You said sternly. " Drop that disguise you're wearing, I know it's you." The beast wearing Pure Vanilla's dough smirked, a grin far too wide present on his face. " Well well well well well! I didn't think you'd figure me out so soon~!" Shadow Milk's voice came through, he'd completely dropped any pretense that he could have been Pure Vanilla in the slightest way. The beast then dropped to the floor with a splat, melding back into the shadows. It isn't too long before you can feel him curl around you, back in his true shape, resting his head and hands upon your shoulders. You staggered in his grasp with a gasp, your spear dropping out of your hands as you lost your footing. " How'd you guess it was me? My silly lilttle Warden?~ Come on, I'm just crumbling to know!" He chirped, holding your weapon just out of reach. " You..." You almost growled, not willing to entertain the twisted entertainer before you. " What have you done to my allies? Why am I here? Did you give me that dream?" You calmly(or maybe coldly?) questioned him, you know that you shouldn't give in to his tomfoolery. " Oh no no no no no my dear, dreamland isn't my domain, that would be Eternal Sugar's." Shadow Milk chirped, so then... Had all the beast's gotten out? You couldn't help but feel a pang of dread settle in. " As for why you're here, well, you refused to stay put in my silly little maze of deceit! You ended up getting out so... I decided to bring you here!" " And 'here' would be...?" You asked, tilting your head back to look at him.

" The Spire of Deceit and Truth!" He hummed. " Oh, and if you're planning on escaping then don't even try to! Each floor of the spire is it's own maze of deceit, it's almost impossible to get out!" He says, as if you can't just jump off the balcony. He detaches from you, letting you fall back onto your surprisingly comfortable bed. It's only now that you realize just how large everything's gotten, your reminder that you were just a crumb compared to the beasts. The shadows collect and grow in mass, eventually all forming together to make Shadow Milk's towering form. " Well, I have to go now! All of Earthbread is waiting for my next performance! So just stay put here, you cute little thing~!" He chirped, all before disappearing in a flash of blue light. And now that you're given a moment longer to think, you come to a realization. You failed at your job, if all the other beasts got out then... the seal would have to be broken, heck, maybe even destroyed. And now, you're probably the only one who even has a chance of wrangling them all back up. Hopefully the seal can be repaired... If it's not entirely destroyed.

----

And there we go! finally got this out. I got too busy playing side order for splatoon three but now I am back on the grind! Mostly. (It's five AM as of posting this, don't worry I did in fact sleep.)

But anyways yeah! reader angst! yippee! This takes place in a more sort of 'things are going bad but we may or may not get a bad ending?' timeline for the Warden!Reader AU. Aka where all the beasts get out and Warden!Reader gets trapped in the maze for a while before figuring out she's in Shadow Milk's stupid fucking maze.

But however will the little warden defeat the five great beasts? Well, that's for you to figure out. I'm just the prompt guy(girl).

[ripdragonbeans]

To Whatever End // HighLord!Aemond x Mate!Reader

For @targaryen-dynasty's February Sleepover!

Btw if you can't tell it's an A Court of Thorns and Roses AU but also this is fanfic

Thank you @exitpursuedbyavulcan for being my beta! ❤️

Prompts: "I just want to please you" // "let me take care of you"

Summary: High Lord Aemond traded himself for his Court to keep those he loved safe. In giving himself, however, he found himself bound to the witch Alys Rivers and committed atrocities to the other Courts. But it's been too long. Much too long. Aemond's mate, his true love, takes fate into her own hands and goes to free him. To whatever end.

CW: blood, character death, smut, consensual kidnapping???, oral f and m receiving, unprotected sex, creampie, 3rd person

Long silver-blond hair. A violet eye. A sapphire in place of the other. Expert swordsman. Magic wielder. Cruel but loyal. Wingspan like no other. Aemond Targaryen, High Lord of the Night Court.

Aemond Targaryen loved his Court. He would do anything and everything to keep it safe, including offering all of himself to a witch. This witch, Alys Rivers, had him on a tight leash. Very rarely was he able to do what he wished. Very rarely was he able to visit his mother, brother, or sister. Worst of all, he was forbidden to see his mate.

His mate, how he loved her so. When the mating bond clicked into place for them it made everything right. Alys Rivers, however, yanked him back as far as she could. She claimed that if he ever tried to go back to his mate she would destroy her and his precious Night Court. So, she kept him at her side; forced him to execute any innocent who dared look at her. Used his magic to raise hell on every other Court but his. The other High Lords thought Aemond to be a lover to Alys. They believed he warmed her bed to have power over them all. Little did they know that was as far from the truth as possible.

Years went by. Then decades. Then centuries. Aemond could stand it no longer. He was wearing down in the most terrible of ways. His resolve was breaking, he was becoming numb, he was beginning to forget his mate, his family, his Court. Every now and then Alys would try to lay with him. She knew forcing him would do nothing, but to make him desperate enough to be with her would break him. She was close to this, too. Her seductive ways had been beating down on him. He was desperate to get out, he was in pain, he felt guilty for even having those thoughts about Alys.

His mate. He needed his mate.

She could feel anguish, his pain, through the bond. It was enough. It had been long enough, too long, she thought. Tonight, she would bring her mate home and destroy Alys.

As she made her way through the halls of the House of Dreams, all she could think of was Aemond. They could never talk through their bond; Alys was able to block that part. The occasional tug from either of them was all that they had to keep them together. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts of Aemond that she walked straight into Helaena, Aemond’s sister.

“Thank the gods I found you!” Helaena sighed in relief. “We just received word that Alys attacked the Winter Court. Apparently, it was out of pure amusement.” The bite in her voice was evident.

“Aemond! Was he -”

“Cregan Stark reported that Aemond was there,” her voice faded down to a whisper, “punishing those who were captured instead of killed.”

The sister’s friend closed her eyes in pain and whispered her mate’s name.

“Helaena, I'm getting him back. We are ridding Westeros of Alys and bringing him back home.”

“When do you go?”

“I am going now. Wish me luck, friend.”

“Wait!” Helaena grabbed her arm. “There are rumors of the Winter Court planning to fight back against Alys; that is why they were targeted.” She looked directly into her eyes. “Destroy her.”

Much like her mate, she had wings. Not as beautiful as Aemond’s and not nearly as big, but big enough to fly her way to the Winter Court. The journey there was long and grueling. She tried to take no breaks and the ones that she did were brief and out of pure necessity. As she got closer to the court, she could feel the mating bond grown in strength. Yes, Aemond was always near to Alys in the Court of Nightmares, but with her focusing on the attack, her magic against the bond has weakened.

She followed that bond, followed it all the way to the Winter Court Palace. It was there she found Aemond, kneeling beside Alys as she sat on a throne, like a dog.

“Look what we have here, Aemond.” She looked the mate up and down. “I thought I told you that if she came here or you to her that I would kill her and all that you hold dear.”

Aemond made eye contact with you. He was pleading for her to leave, to be safe.

The mate said, “No. I'm not leaving you.”

Alys chuckled. “A fight you wish, then? A fight you shall get.”

“I've always been ready to fight you, ever since you took Aemond away from me.”

“Oh, but you won't be fighting me. You'll be fighting my dear pet.” She gestured towards Aemond.

Fear and denial slid over her body like ice. No.

“I refuse to fight him.”

“You see, your refusal would be accepted but our dear Aemond here made another bargain with me.” Indeed, along with the mating bond tattoo there was a new one. One that held him to his word. He believed you wouldn't try to reach him, so he vowed to fight you if you ever showed up as payment of me keeping the Night Court and the other Solar Courts safe.” Her laugh was nails scraping against rocks.

Aemond slowly rose and unsheathed his sword. Every move was painful. He tried to resist but it was futile.

He whispered to his love, “Please, leave. I do not wish to hurt you.”

“You have already hurt me by believing I would not come to you.” She let the pain shine in her eyes. “But I forgive you, Aemond. I love you.” And she drew her own sword.

“Ah, but to make it interesting,” Alys chimed in. “I will release him from his bargains should either of you deliver a devastating blow on the other.”

Hatred coursed through her veins. “You are vile,” she spat.

“That was not part of the bargain!” Aemond yelled.

Alys laughed. “It may not be, but it will still be amusing.”

His love turned to him. “I love you, but if this is what must happen, so be it.”

Aemond slowly raised his sword and readied himself to fight his mate. Just one devastating blow, that would be it. They could be free.

Their fight was a dance. Twirling to block, lunging to attack. Sweeping up into the sky to avoid. Sweat poured down their bodies. The muscles in their backs screamed with pain and exhaustion as they were constantly in the air. It was all they could to not hurt each other. However, while in the air, away from Alys’ prying ears, they made a plan.

Eventually Aemond found his sword against her throat. He pressed against her until pebbles of blood formed. The bond shook.

“I have her and I have drawn blood,” he called to Alys. “Free me, and free her, and free the Courts.”

Alys tutted. “I said a devastating blow, not a threatening one.”

Aemond’s mate looked to Alys then back to him. He whispered to her, “Now.”

She removed the sword from her neck, ignoring the slicing pain as she slid her hand to the hilt and threw it, aimed perfectly at Alys’. Practiced in magic, however, she deflected it with ease.

“How rude! Attacking a spectator!” She glided towards her. “And now you must pay the price.”

“No, you shall.”

Aemond had retrieved his sword to plunge it through Alys’ neck. He mustered all his strength and poured the magic that she had transferred to him when she was against his sword, as well as his, into the attack and sliced Alys’ head clean off. It fell to the ground with a thud.

Black blood erupted from the body, drenching her and Aemond.

Aemond could only look at his mate. “We did it,” he breathed. “She's gone and all the Courts are free.”

“Yes, we are free.”

Aemond took a step. Then another. Then another. Until he was right in front of her. He gently cradled her face with his blood-soaked hands and brought his lips to hers.

“I thought I would never see you again,” she said against him.

He pulled away. “I must tell you more, I never stopped believing in you. But we must inform Cregan that we are all free.”

Back-to-back the couple cut down and remaining soldiers loyal to Alys until they found Cregan in his own battle. The three of them were quick to overpower the opponents.

Cregan turned to Aemond, the fact that he was standing before him without Alys trailing him hit him hard.

“Is she,” he could not bring himself to ask the full question, lest the answer be unsavory.

“She is gone,” Aemond claimed. He opened his wings to their full length. “She is gone, and we are all free.”

Together, Aemond, his mate, and Cregan announced to the Winter Court that Alys was no more.

“We shall rebuild to be stronger,” Cregan said to his people. He turned to Aemond. “We shall unite.”

Aemond’s mate replied for him, “And together we shall rise above the ashes.”

Once the theatrics were over, the two lovers flew back to the Night Court. While they took limited breaks, they stopped right before arriving at the House of Dreams.

Wings tucked in, they arrived at an inn, Rita's, and found a room.

As soon as the door closed behind them Aemond’s lips were on hers. They danced together as though they were never apart. But their hands wandered as though they were strangers.

He slowly slipped her flying leathers off her beautiful body, taking in every inch of her. Every curve, every scar. He crawled up her body and brushed a hand over the now healed scar that branded her neck. Her body stiffened but in pleasure rather than fear. His touch was gentle, sensual.

“Don't worry,” he said, “I’ll take care of you.” And he kissed her gently.

He pulled away and kissed down her body, paying extra attention to the junction between her neck and shoulder, biting it then soothing it with his tongue.

She extended her neck, wanting more. “Please, my love,” she begged.

Aemond smirked against her and continued his way down her body until he came to her chest.

“Gods, I've missed these beautiful tits.”

He was quick to take a hardened bud into his mouth to tease and lick. Her back arched, wanting, needing, more. His hand slid up her body to play with the other nipple, tweaking and flicking it. All she could do was moan.

He switched, giving the other the same treatment with his mouth. She could feel the coil in her stomach tighten. When he was satisfied with her panting, he continued his journey down her body. He stopped at the apex of her thighs. He looked in awe as he gently stroked her folds.

“Aemond -”

He shushed her. “I just want to please you.”

Aemond tentatively brushed her bundle of nerves and watched as she writhed at her touch.

She looked at him, desperate to see him, only to find a devious smirk on his lips.

“Look at you, so wet for me already. Have you missed me that much?” He taunted.

“Yes, of course I've missed - gods!”

His mouth was upon her, his nose rubbing against her as he feasted upon her. All she could feel was him. All that mattered was him. She closed her eyes in ecstacy as the coil within her threatened to snap.

“Aemond I'm going -” she was cut short by her own wordless scream. A wave of pleasure crashed down upon her.

Aemond, however, kept feasting on her. He did not want to stop. She tasted divine and he needed more. Her hips bucked up with each lick. The pressure of pleasure began to build up again. He then moved to suck on her bud and plunged two fingers into her wet heat. The change itself was enough to bring her over the edge again. Only then did Aemond lift his head up. Her slick coating his mouth. She reached for him and kissed him deeply.

“Now it is my turn.” She nipped at his ear.

She stripped him of his clothes and ran her hands all over his body. Up and down her hands went, taking it all in, until she got to his length.

It had been so long since she had seen it; she forgot how big and thick he was. He was already hard and his tip was red and weeping. As she ran her hand over his cock he bucked his hips up, racing for more.

His love obliged by sinking down and taking him into her mouth. He groaned as she began to bob her head up and down, tongue swirling around.

“Fuck, my love!”

She hummed in response, earning another groan from him. She could feel he was close and was ready to take his seed, but he pulled out.

Aemond pulled her into a searing kiss. “I am going to finish in you. Not in your mouth but in your hot, wet cunt.”

His language sent a thrill down her spine.

“Face down, ass up,” he ordered.

She complied, excited for what was to come next.

She felt him shuffle behind her. In one swift motion he sheathed himself fully inside her. They both moaned at the feeling of the other. Taking their time, they just stayed there like that.

Until Aemond began moving his hips.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he ground out.

He picked up speed, fucking her into the mattress. She moved along with him, wanting him to be as deep as possible within her.

Aemond’s thrusts soon became sloppy, his rhythm uneven. With each motion of his cock her pleasure began to crest.

“Aemond, please I'm going to -”

“Together. I want us to finish together.”

With one final thrust, she screamed as she tightened around him, triggering his own orgasm.

They collapsed on the bed, his cock still inside her. Together they stayed there until Aemond pushed himself up to grab a wet rag to clean them up. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his wings around her.

I am yours and you are mine, Aemond sent down the bond.

To whatever end, my love, she sent back.

She pulled him down into another searing kiss, this one promising that they would not be separated again.

[sgiandubh]

Contemplating Bullshit

Quick, Fandom Police, screencap this and send it to CO. ASAP:

'Dear' CO (or should I say, eh... 'Glinda'? 🙄),

You wrote what amounts to a PhD thesis about one of my recent posts (https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753845334988423168/they-watch-they-hate-then-they-copy?source=share). So long for your carefully curated 'I don't care about Those Tinhat Shippers' narrative, in the process: but hey, common sense never bothered you and your ilk, right?

You don't care, but you write. Abundantly. Prompted by a denunciation that should give your 'US progressive beliefs' pause. Between you and me, lady: our European shipper community cannot give a dead rat's ass about you systematically dragging the US politics current evolution in this TV series fandom, in an effort to-

a) brown nose the US more conservative, MAGA crowd (with which 'Erself seems to be resonating, but that is suddenly and conveniently of no social and political import to you, of course)

b) sound sophisticated towards what you think (wrongly) is a primitive, uneducated, politically unaware shipper fandom crowd.

Some of the shippers chose to go political, for their own reasons and if they are happy with it, so am I. I do happen to believe in freedom of speech and editorial choices. Many, such as myself, chose to never mix politics and mundane, private beliefs (such as all this fandom thing), just because we happen to think, in Europe, that mixing those two notions is extreme poor taste. With dramatic historical precedents to boot. So you see, I am not very sure what point are you trying to prove, spare that you somehow consider yourself superior to those who do not share your political views. Told you: so long for your progressiveness and I am sorry, but your are such a Cheap Demagogue, lady!

Then, you couldn't help yourself but tell a Big, Fat Glinda Lie:

I did not invent the Orc concept. Your running mate, BIF (the Poor Man's CO, btw) did - and proud of herself, too:

Discerning Orcs vs. Stupid Shippers, Circle of Trust vs. Rectangle of Reality. We know that song, that is so 2019. And sure, I did mention an Orc Army (five to ten blogs, the rest are parrots, unable to make the difference between 'pixilated' and 'pixelated', when talking about a blurry picture - pixie/pixel, btw). My understanding is that someone as genuinely intelligent (that, I grant you) as yourself was piqued by the irony. But you chose to be nasty. Fair enough. Your problem, not mine.

Have you moved on? It doesn't sound like you did. And yeah, you sound angry and bothered and barely keeping up a civilized demeanor, there.

I could go on and on and on, debunking everything you said, but I am merciful to my readers and I happen to think that sometimes being clear and concise is far more effective than being verbose. So, here is the deal, CO:

Take your condescending, US-centric world view and your intolerant nastiness and shove them right up your Glinda nose, ok?

As for me, I am firmly on the ship deck. You are not to tell me what I saw with my own eyes. Better stick to whatever you post on your political blog. You have a LOT of work to do there. Seriously.

PS: in the book, Glinda is the Good Witch from the South. Just pedantically sayin'.

[thebiggerbear]

Something Like This

Summary: A Nor'easter hits Boston and luckily for you, you don't have anywhere you need to be except right here snuggled up with CJ.

A/N: So, I started writing this back in January. We got quite a few snowfalls that month and I had wanted to write some cuddle time with CJ and the reader from the "I hate you" prompt. I wrote about 70% of it but then got distracted due to busy times at work and in life. But after this latest snowfall, I picked it up again and had to finish it. This wasn't originally meant to be for Valentine's Day (obviously) but I changed it up a little since the timing worked out. It's not much but I hope it's alright. Btw, I love snow, just not shoveling it lol.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in any future CJ or Dawson's Creek works.

Sequel to this prompt response

Warnings: pure fluff; implied sex

Word Count: 5995

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

CJ Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @illicithallways; @nancymcl; @muhahaha303

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

This was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

You opened one eye and turned to glance out the window after hearing a low whistle. You watched as snow flakes whipped around in a furious dance against the glass before moving on. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there.”

You felt your boyfriend nuzzling your ear. “Yeah, it is,” he murmured. “Not that I mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile and turn to face him. You saw the blissed out grin gracing his handsome face and the affection in his green eyes as they settled on you. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, making him let out a tiny contented sigh as he burrowed into your neck. 

The meteorologists had predicted a Nor’easter for the weekend, one that was going to produce at least a couple of feet of snow after a 24 hour period, and predictably, people panicked and flooded the stores. Being a college student, you hadn’t needed to make a mad rush to the store to buy bottled water, canned goods, or bread; that was something you normally had in your stash. But the storm was something everyone on campus was talking about. Some students who didn’t want to stick around for the mushy white stuff headed out early on Friday for a warmer (or at least drier) destination. Even some professors had canceled classes in the early afternoon even though it wasn’t supposed to start snowing until well after midnight. During all of this hubbub, CJ had called you and suggested you come stay at his place for the weekend. Considering you didn’t want to get stuck with Stacey and her boyfriend (you had heard her making plans earlier that day) and you hadn’t seen CJ since Tuesday, you were completely on board with that plan.

You had brought what you considered to be your own personal snowstorm kit which consisted of hot chocolate mix (with tiny marshmallows of course), a big cozy blanket, and the warmest pajama set you owned. They may or may not have bunny rabbits dressed in sweaters, hats, and mittens enjoying a snow day on them. And CJ may or may not have laughed and enjoyed teasing you when you put them on Friday night for the first movie of the evening. He hadn’t been laughing long though when he discovered how easily he could unbutton your shirt and get his hands in there or how quickly he could undress you. 

CJ had his own preparations he had made. He had candles, flashlights, the same type of food and drink stash you had with a few differences, blankets, extra pillows, a few movies picked out and ready to go by the TV, and enough Twizzlers to last you the weekend. You had happily kissed him for that last one; he knew how much you loved Twizzlers.

Sure enough, the snow started right after midnight and hadn’t stopped. Boston was covered in a thick white blanket that just kept growing and growing no matter how many plows made their way through the streets. Now it was Saturday afternoon, with the storm halfway over, and it didn’t show any signs of slowing down any time soon. Feeling CJ pressing gentle kisses to your neck, you were just fine with that.

You hummed happily and closed your eyes, enjoying the sensations of his lips on your skin and his hands sneaking under the hem of your shirt to caress your back. “I love this,” you whispered.

“I love you,” he whispered back, making you smile as he worked his way up to your jaw line.

“We just showered and changed the sheets an hour ago,” you whined when you felt his fingers trail from your back to your front, sneaking under the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“I have extra sheets,” he reassured, placing kisses to your cheek and then the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re insatiable,” you teased. He had already had you twice this morning and once last night.

“So, I love having sex with my girlfriend, sue me.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully before pecking your lips.

“We have all weekend,” you reminded him. Thankfully, his roommate had made other arrangements for the impending snowstorm, something you highly suspected CJ had urged him to do. “Besides, I wanted to just snuggle for a while and maybe make out a little.” You pouted up at him.

He studied you for a moment and then let out a chuckle. “Just snuggling and making out, huh?”

You grinned and nodded, loving the sight of his smile. CJ may be an attractive guy with handsome features, but his smile made your heart leap inside your chest every single time. Enough that you were starting to worry that you should probably go to the doctor for a checkup, but damn did you love his smile. Had you been able to see it through the months of phone conversations the two of you had, you probably would’ve been an absolute goner from the get go.    

“Okay,” he sighed and moved his hand out of your pants and flopped onto his back next to you, pulling you further into his arms. “Happy?”

“Very.” You picked up his hand and began to play with his fingers while he kissed the top of your head. His free hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing circles and he let his cheek rest against your hair.

You both stayed quiet for a few minutes and just listened to the wind howling outside every so often.

“You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this,” he quietly admitted to you. “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” You smiled, squeezing his fingers in between yours. “I had a plan I was sticking to until I graduated and nothing was going to change it. But then I met you.” You glanced up to find him watching you, an affectionate smile on his face. “And it all changed.”

The words should have made something in your chest warm but instead a spike of anxiety flowed through it instead. He was supposed to be in New York City right now, not Boston. He was only here because of you, because he didn’t want to be two states away from you long term though you had promised you would visit if he went. Nope, he decided he was staying here and finishing out his education at Boston Bay no matter what you’d said to try to convince him not to miss out on an important opportunity. As far as he was concerned, he’d made his decision, he was good with it, and it was case closed. 

So, a part of you started to worry but knowing you as well as he did by now, he leaned forward and kissed you until the worry began to fade away. “And I couldn’t be happier that it did,” he whispered to your lips before kissing you again. You felt him shift an arm away from you but before you could look to see what he was doing, he deepened the kiss and you melted into him.

A moment later, he pulled away, making you whine and reach for him when suddenly there was a bouquet of red roses in your face causing your eyes to widen in surprise. CJ was beaming down at you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Your mouth dropped in shock. You had been so busy the last two weeks, you had completely forgotten the holiday was today. Truthfully, you had never bothered with the holiday before. To you, it was nothing more than a day that Corporate America hijacked to make even more money off of the backs of its consumers. You had never put much stock into it before, not since you reached high school. And now, you had someone you deeply cared about, someone you loved, and you had made the worst mistake you could’ve made by forgetting the holiday while your amazing boyfriend obviously hadn’t. 

“Th-Thank you,” you stammered. He offered the bouquet to you and you gratefully accepted them, leaning them up to your nose to gently sniff their wonderful scent. “They’re beautiful.”

CJ carefully moved to the side and sat up against the headboard, watching you with a grin. “Only the best for my girl.”

“You know I have to ask how.” You had been here since last night and never once had you come across any flowers. Not to mention, there was no way any flower deliveries were being made today. You idly wondered just how much money florists across the city were losing.  

He inclined his head towards the other side of the room. “Mike’s closet.”

You shot him a look of disbelief. “And they survived?”

CJ laughed and gave you a nod. “They did. I’m not going to lie, I checked on them in the middle of the night when you were asleep. I was worried they would be all wilted or that we might have a Little Shop of Horrors situation suddenly on our hands.”

You snickered and sat up next to him. “If it starts asking me for blood, I’m putting it back in Mike’s closet. It can be a very belated Christmas present.”

He shook his head, chuckling, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’m just glad they held up. I got them delivered last night before you got here. I put them in water and when you were in the bathroom before, I took them out, dried them off, and hid them on my side of the bed. They seem to be doing okay.” He studied the flowers to make sure.  

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. They really were. They could have been dying or missing petals or even a cheap bouquet from the convenience store, and they still would have been perfect. No one had ever given you flowers for Valentine’s Day before or any flowers period — no one other than your dad that is. 

CJ smiled over at you and leaned in to kiss you. “I’m glad you like them.”

“They must’ve cost you a fortune, though.”

He waved his free hand dismissively. “Worth it.” He pecked your lips again. “And I made reservations for us for Tuesday night at that seafood place you like.”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “The super expensive one?”

He shrugged. “I was going to take you last night but I knew it would be packed. So this way, we avoid the whole crowd of everyone trying to cram in a romantic dinner at the last minute and we can just enjoy ourselves on Tuesday.”

Shame began to unfurl in your chest. He had really thought of everything. Now him lighting the candles last night, the Twizzler stash, him insisting on ordering your favorite takeout — all of it started to make sense in a different way than they first had for the romantic weekend you both were holed up in for the snowstorm. How could you have been so blockheaded not to realize? Granted, you both never talked about what you would want to do for this holiday; it was your first one since you began dating. But you still should have realized. Now CJ had gone all out for you, and you had nothing to give him in return. He had even been thoughtful enough to choose not only your favorite restaurant but a night where it wouldn’t be so crowded since he knew how you felt about being in the same room as a massive amount of people. You had the most amazing and considerate boyfriend and you literally had nothing for him. What a crappy girlfriend you were. 

And due to the snow, you couldn’t even try to make up for it by making plans or reservations to take him anywhere (you would have sat in a crowded restaurant for him if it made him happy), or go to the store to get him anything or even purchase ingredients for a meal you could cook for him. You hadn’t even brought anything sexy to wear to bed for him, just your old comfortable PJ’s. Girlfriend fail indeed.

Your smile started to fade and you glanced up at him worriedly. “CJ…I didn’t…I wasn’t—”

He gently kissed your nose. “I know. We never talked about it and I knew you were busy these last two weeks. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I know how you feel about this holiday and well…I wanted to change that up a little. Give you some good memories.” He stroked a petal of the rose closest to him before turning a warm smile on you.

You could feel a familiar stinging in the corner of your eyes. He remembered what you’d told him in one of your many phone conversations when you’d been getting to know each other. You’d been discussing each holiday and sharing both of your thoughts when it came to each one. You didn’t care for Valentine’s Day and when he asked why, you surprised yourself by telling him the truth. In high school, every year, roses were for sale. You could choose between red, pink, and yellow ones; they were approximately five dollars each. You could give it to the person (or people) you bought them for directly, leave it taped to their lockers, or have them delivered to the class they were in. And each year, you were one of two people out of your whole class who never received any. You weren’t a social outcast by any means but you weren’t part of the whole cliques business, preferring to do your own thing. No boy was interested in you and while you had friends, they weren’t the type to buy yellow roses for all of their friends on that day. You and Charlotte Campbell never received a rose in any capacity. And that only held true until junior year when finally you couldn’t take the sad expression on Charlotte’s face anymore as she watched deliveries being made in class, knowing that she was going to be crying her eyes out in the girl’s bathroom before next period, and you did something about it. You ignored the shocked look on Justine Helman’s face when you purchased a pink rose and gave her instructions on where and when to deliver it. The surprised and grateful smile on Charlotte’s face later in History class when a student had delivered the rose to her had been worth it. So much so that you repeated the process in senior year. You had no idea if she ever figured out they were from you (Justine was known to be quite the busybody), but you hoped that regardless, it gave her a little bit of happiness in that moment each time the holiday rolled around.

And from there you slowly began to realize that the holiday was an excuse for florists, candy companies, greeting card companies, condom companies (CJ chuckled at that one but didn’t disagree), lingerie departments and boutiques, jewelry stores, and movie studios and TV stations to make more money. Like one big conspiracy they all partook in for the almighty dollar. So, every time the holiday came around, you rolled your eyes and refused to even acknowledge it. If you loved someone and they loved you, you didn’t need a corporate-infused holiday and two empty bank accounts to show it. That’s where you had stood on the holiday of love and you were determined to keep that stance for the rest of your life.

But then you started dating CJ and now…now you were ready to tear up because he had remembered what you’d said and wanted you to have a good memory on this day for once. You launched yourself at him, kissing him passionately while being careful not to crush the flowers. “I love you,” you whispered when you both needed air.

He moved his hands up to your cheeks and wiped tears away with his thumbs. You had no idea they had escaped. “I love you, too.” His brows drew together as he studied your face. “This was okay, right?”

CJ had never celebrated the holiday with someone either. He’d never been in a relationship when it would roll around on the calendar before this one. So this was his first time acknowledging it, too, to anyone outside of family and friends. 

You gave him the most grateful smile you could. “Yeah. More than okay.” You could see the relief playing over his expression. You reached behind you to gently place the flowers on his nightstand and turned back to him, cupping his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m really glad you like it.” His soft smile made a leaping sensation happen in your chest.

“Like it?” A glimmer of worry shined in his green eyes. “Oh, you are so getting laid right now, pal.” You started to pull him to you as you leaned back onto the bed. He laughed but it got cut short by you kissing him deeply. You moaned into his mouth when he settled in between your thighs and you cradled his hips with your legs. You began to hurriedly unbutton your top when his hands stopped you and he lifted up for air. 

“Wait, wait.” You gulped for air, watching him intently, wondering why he was stopping you. “As badly as I want this, and it’s really, really badly, I actually have a plan.”

You arched your brows in question. “A plan?”

A small raw sound escaped his throat as you rubbed up against him, feeling him growing impossibly harder. “Yep. Damn, I’m going to have to start thinking about Kierkegaard, aren’t I?” 

You had been smirking, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as you continued to tease him, when that caught your attention. “Kierkegaard?”

He nodded emphatically, his eyes closed, as he tried to pull away from you but you locked your legs around him. “Yeah,” he nearly moaned out as you grinded against his erection.

“CJ,” you called in your most seductive voice, a tone that you knew drove him crazy, as he’d told you one night after phone sex during finals week. That had been the first time you’d attempted it and boy, had that turned out to be one fun evening.

You both had been stressed and unable to make time for one another, so you’d taken the situation by the ‘nads, literally. You were nervous; you weren’t sure if this would be something he liked or if you would screw up or if you would sound horrifically laughable. Before you could chicken out, you’d called him up one night near the end of his shift.

“Hello, Helpline. This is CJ.”

“Hello, CJ. I seem to be having a problem that I think only you can help with.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Jo?” You could hear the smile in his voice, having recognized yours right away. You felt a little bit of a thrill at him using your old name; it just added to the excitement of what you were about to do.

“Well, the thing is, my boyfriend and I haven’t had much time to see one another. Finals, you know?”

“Yeah, finals week can be brutal.”

“Mmm, you know what else is brutal? We haven’t had sex in almost two weeks.”

It took him a moment to respond and in that time, you wondered if maybe you had already screwed things up. Perhaps you shouldn’t have started this while he was on shift. Perhaps you had made him uncomfortable or you sounded like an idiot as you had feared, probably both. You were just about to backtrack when he quietly cleared his throat. “That does sound pretty brutal. Maybe you two should make some special plans to remedy that once finals are over.”

Relieved, you let out a drawn out sigh into the phone. “But that’s at the end of the week. I’m not sure I can wait that long. I’ve tried taking care of things myself, you know? But it’s not the same.”

“Well, perhaps you’re not using that…method correctly. Maybe you should tell me what it is you’re doing and we can figure it out together why it’s not working. Don’t leave out a single detail. I’m here to help.”

You smirked and shook your head. “Well, that’s sort of what I was thinking, CJ,” you played along. “But, I don’t think that it’s anything I’m doing wrong in the process. I think it’s that my boyfriend isn’t present when I do it. So, I was thinking maybe you could pretend to be him while I do it and we’ll see if maybe that will help, you know?”

“Whatever you need. That’s what I’m here for.” You could hear his voice getting deeper and you felt a flipping sensation in your stomach. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” you whispered huskily. “How much longer do you have before we can do this experiment?”

“I’ve got ten minutes left.” He then lowered his voice. “I can be at your place in twenty.”

Oh God, you would have loved for him to come by but Stacey and her worse half were expected to walk through the door in the next hour and you wanted to continue this game for lack of a better word. “Uh, uh, uh. No can do, CJ. My boyfriend wouldn’t like it and we’re supposed to do this over the phone. You’re helping me so I can make it through the next week until I see him again, remember?”

“But if my shift is over in ten then how—”

“Now, CJ, I believe we exchanged room numbers, didn’t we? In case I ever needed your help outside of your hours at the helpline?” You then lowered your voice again. “And, baby, I really need your help on this one.”

You heard a quiet gulp on the other end of the line. “R-Right. You know, Seth just walked in so I’m going to clock out early and head home. I’ll call you when I get there, it should be no more than ten minutes, give or take.”

“Make it seven,” you huskily commanded before hanging up the phone. You snickered, wondering if he would literally run those three blocks to his dorm if he had to. Sure enough, when he called you eight minutes later, panting and breathing out, “I’m here. I’m here,” you knew you had been right. That had been one explosive night and you had not only discovered something new about yourself but you also discovered something new about him as well. You liked to tease him and be in charge sometimes; he liked being teased and he liked for you to be in charge sometimes. Win-win and it had done wonders for your confidence in the bedroom. You had certainly never done anything like that with anyone else. That was another thing you loved about him. CJ allowed you the room to explore and you felt completely safe with him to do so. 

There may or may not have been a few more illicit call-ins at the end of his shift, and there may or may not have been another week or two that you purposely didn’t see each other so it could lead to fantastic phone sex, desperate and passionate sex when you reunited, or both. 

So now, you decided to use that tone on him once more. “Why are you trying to pull away? I want this really badly, too.” You gently dragged your nails down his bare chest down to his navel, knowing how he loved it when you did that. Sure enough, you heard a tiny gasp coming from him. You lifted up to whisper in his ear, “You can still have your plan but let’s do this first. Come on, CJ, I know you want this just as much as I do.” You nibbled at his ear lobe. “So, I love having sex with my boyfriend, sue me.” You couldn't help teasing him by repeating his words back to him.  

His eyes snapped open and he gently pushed you back on the bed, his hands carefully pinning your shoulders down and his chest heaving in and out. You could see his pupils were blown wide with lust. You knew then if you just nudged him a little more, he’d give in and you wouldn’t leave this bed for the rest of the day. “I really want this but I also want you to see the rest of my plan just as much. And we need energy for it. I’m more than willing to give you what you want later but right now, let’s go see what I’ve got planned first, okay?”

You gave him the sad puppy dog expression as he called it, and predictably it made him chuckle. “Okay,” you agreed. Considering how much trouble he’d gone to in order to surprise you on this holiday, you’d do as he asked and stop teasing him. You unhooked your legs from his waist and he released your shoulders. He began to lean down to kiss you in thanks but he seemed to think better of it and lifted his head once more. 

“So, what’s the plan?” You asked.

“Did you happen to bring gloves and a hat in that huge bag of yours?”

Your eyes widened and then narrowed. “Why?”

He grinned down at you and ran a tender thumb along your cheek.

CJ had told you to get dressed and to bundle up. You had begrudgingly done so, not happy that you were obviously leaving the warm cocoon you had both been in since the storm started, but it was what he wanted and you were intent on giving him anything he desired today. Sure enough, he led you out of his dorm and down the street. The thick snowflakes were still coming down steadily but at least the wind wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. It was almost peaceful, your gloved hand in CJ’s, you two being the only ones out and about. The lack of sounds of city life and the white landscape painted a picture that was beyond beautiful. 

You came to a stop near a park and CJ turned a smile onto you before trudging inward, bringing you along. He settled on an open spot and let your hand go. “Remember when you told me about those snow days you used to have?”

Your lips parted in shock. He really did remember almost everything you told him. You should be used to it by now but it still managed to surprise you every once in a while. Back then, you had no idea just how much he looked forward to your phone calls and how much he truly enjoyed talking to you as you got to know one another. 

You had told him about the snow days you had from elementary school, the rare ones where you would get more than a foot of snow. You didn’t have any siblings and your dad, who was usually busy with work, would take you outside to do all kinds of fun things. You made snowmen, you had snowball fights, you would go sledding…he had even made you a small snow fort once. Afterwards, you would both go inside and your mom would have steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows waiting. Those days were some of your best childhood memories.

CJ grinned over at you and then began to make the bottom part of a snowman. You let out a tiny squeal of excitement and hurried over to help him, earning you a laugh. 

It wasn’t long before you had the snowman built. CJ reached into his pockets and pulled out buttons, a carrot, and an old pipe that he told you he had managed to buy this week when you asked where he’d gotten them from. You felt that familiar warmth in your chest when you realized that he really had been planning this longer than a day or two. Again, you felt horrible that you had been so oblivious and that you had nothing in return for him. You were resolved that you were going to make this up to him, though. Big time. He could pick all the movies you would watch for the next month. You would play all the mini golf he wanted (when the weather cleared up of course). You would let him choose the takeout and restaurants for however long he wanted. You would do everything he wanted to do and give him whatever he wanted.

He placed the items on the snowman and slipped out a beanie hat to finish off the look. He stood back with you as you both studied your creation.

“Something’s missing,” you wondered aloud.

“Sticks for arms? I can find some.”

“No…something else.” It finally hit you and you removed the scarf from around your neck, the one CJ had lent you, and wrapped it around the snowman’s. “There.” You beamed over at your boyfriend. “All done,” you informed him in a singsong voice. CJ smiled warmly at you and his eyes held a familiar gleam of affection as he stepped forward. He removed the scarf from the snowman, making you frown. “Hey! Now he’s incomplete again.”

He took a step closer to you and shook the scarf of any snow remnants, gently wrapping it around your neck once more. “You need it more than he does,” he murmured, placing a tender kiss on your nose. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet gesture. You lifted up to kiss him when he took a few steps away from you, making your brows furrow. He grinned and suddenly fell backwards, making you gasp and hurry over, falling to your knees beside him. “CJ, are you alright?”

He chuckled and looked up at you. “What was the last part of the story you told me?” He began to move his arms and legs in a familiar motion. 

“Snow angels,” you whispered.

He continued making one and you crawled a little distance away to plop onto your back and make one of your own. You couldn’t help giggling as you did it. God, this was amazing. Why had you ever stopped doing this once you were no longer a little kid? Why weren’t there any other adults out here, minus children, doing the same? This was incredible.

You had just finished making your snow angel when CJ’s face appeared in your vision. His smile rivaled yours. 

“You ruined your snow angel, silly,” you teased, knowing it wasn’t intact from him crawling from nearby over to you. 

He shrugged. “I don’t need it, not when I’ve got the real deal right here.”

Seeing his eyes intent on you, you knew it wasn’t just some cheesy line he was using on you. As much as you loved him, there was a part of you that didn’t understand the reverence he looked at you with sometimes. You didn’t feel you deserved it and sometimes it scared you that he might have put you on a pedestal that you were destined to fall from, being human and all. But when you would remind him of your imperfections, he would simply shrug and remind you that he wasn’t perfect either. He didn’t want perfection; he wanted real, something like what you already had. “Although, I’ve got to say, you’re pretty damn close to perfect,” he’d murmured in your ear. You had gently swatted his shoulder, which made him laugh, and he’d given you a tender smile. “Perfect for me,” he added. You had kissed him thoroughly for that sentiment and he had nuzzled you as you both settled in to watch whatever horror movie he had picked out.

You now lifted your arm up to grab hold of the collar of his coat to pull him slowly down to you. You pressed your lips to his and heard his hands settling on either side of your head, anchoring him so he could keep his weight off of you. “Thank you for today,” you whispered. 

His smile grew bigger. “You’re welcome.”

You bit your lip nervously. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything planned for you. I didn’t even think… But I’m going to fix that. Starting this week. I’m going to—”

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up. “Today has been a good day for me, too. I don’t want anything else so don’t worry about it.”

You gave him a look. “But that doesn’t make up for—”

“Tell you what, how about we head back to the dorms, get some hot chocolate going, and then you can make it up to me.” He gave you that all too familiar salacious smirk.

“CJ,” you laughed. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

You thought it over for a moment, studying him intently, seeing the red in his cheeks and nose from the cold, and tiny snowflakes hanging from his eyelashes. “Okay,” you agreed. “But we need to do one thing first.”

His smirk grew into a triumphant one. “What’s that?”

You instantly scooped up snow on your right and gently hit the side of his head, causing the snow to fall down the left side of his face and onto you, making you twist and squirm underneath him to keep most of the mess from pelting you. 

CJ glanced down at you in shock, one half of his face covered in snow, his beanie completely saturated with it. You laughed and he immediately caged you in between his arms. “Oh, you’re going to get it.”

You hit him with another snowball and as he recovered, you crawled out from underneath him, laughing. You had just gotten to your feet to run when he tackled you, making you shriek, and began to pelt you with snow. An all out snowball war ensued and you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed that much. Eventually, CJ won (you let him win though you would never tell him that) and he hovered over you, snow covering every inch of him, smugly smiling down at you. Now, this was perfection. You had never seen a more beautiful sight and your heart had that leaping sensation in your chest again. You hoped that no matter how old you got one day, you never lost this memory. Not only of how he looked but also how much you truly loved him in this moment. 

You lifted up and kissed that smugness right off of his face. It wasn’t long before you were back at the dorms and he had snuck you into the showers with him, promising hot chocolate after you both got warmed up. As the hot water rained down on you both, you gasped as he teased you from behind, his hands roaming all over you. You turned in his arms to face him and wrapped yours around his neck to keep steady. You gasped again when he picked you up, urging you to wind your legs around his waist, and moved you under the spray so he could use the tile wall behind you as leverage.

CJ kissed you deeply, neither of you minding the water trickling down over your faces. He broke away and stared into your eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you whispered back to him, smiling, before his lips covered yours once more. You quickly thought back over everything from today and his words came back to you. “You know, Y/N, I never thought I’d be able to have something like this.” “A relationship with a girl where I’m sober…and happy.” The truth was you never thought you’d be able to have something like this either. But you did; you had it. And like CJ had also said, you had never been happier.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

Main Masterlist

Main Tag List Submission Form

[multiverse-of-fanfic]

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt (Jun. 9): Dreamlover by Mariah Carey (HAPPY 30 YEARS TO THIS SONG BTW) 455 words (forgive me, it’s not very micro but oh well it got away from me)

Draco watches Harry down a third shot of Ogden's. He might be impressed if he wasn't so on edge.

"I can't believe it's happened again," Harry says on an exhale, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. "There must be something wrong with me."

Draco can't help but scoff. "Don't be absurd. There's nothing wrong with you. Well, other than your dreadful sense of style and inability to keep your beast's nest of hair tamed.”

Harry attempts to level him with an unimpressed scowl, but it comes across rather wonky and constipated-looking, vibrant green eyes the only part of it bearing any intensity. A lick of heat flares to life over the expanse of Draco's skin.

Giving up with a hiccough, Harry traces the rim of his glass with a lazy finger. “I really thought this time would stick,” sighed Harry, “but apparently I’m the type of bloke that takes eight months to realise his boyfriend is having him on.”

A sneer threatens to twist Draco’s face, but he’s just barely able to keep it simmering below the surface. It had taken every ounce of his willpower to stop from storming Grimmauld when Witch Weekly’s Summer Lovin’ issue had dropped with much fanfare, and Harry’s faux-beau had said Harry’s favorite dessert was tiramisu.

Now, he lives with a daily urge to confess his feelings to Harry. Feelings long harbored, long stoked, and long lasting. Because Harry deserves someone who won’t use him for fame or flee at the first sign of hardship. Because as much as Harry is The Boy Who Lived and The Saviour, he is also the nightmares Draco knows he still has about the war, and the flicker of shadow that crosses his face every May.

“Harry,” Draco says softly, setting his own glass to the side, enveloping Harry’s hands within his own. “There is nothing wrong with you. And there is someone out there for you. Someone who is everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Harry gazes up at him from under a curtain of raven black fringe, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth. “Why can’t they just come get me and take me away? I’m tired of looking.”

Draco swallows dryly. “You never know. They could be right in front of you. All you have to do is see them.”

Ambient sound from the pub spills around them, but they are nothing more than a distant buzz when Harry looks at him intently, the world narrowing instantly. Draco has spent a lifetime observing Harry, knowing him…loving him. Understanding him and what he needs. There is no greater expert on Harry Potter than Draco Malfoy. Something has got to give, and he only hopes that this time it does.

[cloudcountry]

one more chance (now that i have you.)

this is a birthday gift for @merotwst and a continuation of her request for the 1k event (here!!)

i had no idea your birthday was so close but i'd like to thank your other moots for unintentionally reminding me LMAO

i hope,,,, i write jamil well because i know full well you've read like every fic of him ever probably and im a bit nervous BUT i tried my best!! so yeah i hope your birthday goes wonderfully + sending jamil hugs for you C:< (he adores you completely btw he told me himself) (not w/o rolling his eyes though smh)

~~~~~

Jamil sighs, shutting the kitchen doors quietly. His sigh echoes off the kitchen walls and returns to him, distorted and unlike himself. He supposes he hasn’t truly been himself in a long time, though. Breathing in deep, he slides his hand behind his vest. The spot over his heart has a pocket, one Jamil sewed in himself when he received his uniform from the Headmage. He removes a wrinkled picture of your smiling face, your cheek squashed against Jamil’s as he smiled softly. Even though you were staring right at the camera, it’s obvious Jamil was looking at you. It was taken years ago. You would tell him he needs to let go.

It’s not that easy, though. And it never will be.

Jamil slips the picture back into his pocket and sighs again.

The dinner party Kalim threw tonight had the biggest feast Jamil had to prepare all year. His shoulders are aching and his brain is absolutely fired, but the weight of his history homework in his bag reminds him that the day isn’t done just yet. He pats the spot right above his heart as if asking you for just a little more strength, and slings his bag over his shoulder.

There’s no way he can think in Scarabia, and he certainly can’t hide out in his room. Kalim will come for him, and Jamil doesn’t want to deal with him right now. It’s best to head to the library. Nobody will be around at this time.

Sure enough, the hallways are empty and Jamil makes it to the library without an issue. He makes a beeline for a table in the back corner, tucked behind a tall bookcase that houses a myriad of books about curses.

How to Curse Your Enemies for Dummies. Curses! I’ve Done it Again! A Step-by-Step Manual on How to Not Curse Yourself When Attempting to Damn Your Foes. The Curse of The Poisonous Apple and Other Famous Dastardly Deeds. Top Ten Deadly Curses.

Jamil finds solace in the titles. They’re quiet, ancient, and soothing. They don’t scream or yell or demand anything from him. They simply exist in the place in which they were placed.

A true blessing. Jamil wishes he could do the same.

He places his bag gently on the floor beside his chair, opening it quietly. Jamil sticks his tongue out and furrows his brow, pulling out the required history textbook and his homework. Trein’s assigned essay will be a piece of cake for Jamil, but he knows Kalim will need revisions from him tomorrow before class. He always waits till the last minute.

Pushing the Asim heir out of his mind, Jamil settles in and begins to read. The prompt is simple enough—all he has to do is write a five-hundred-word essay about the similarities between two of the Great Seven. Jamil contemplates writing about The Great Sea Witch and The Sorcerer of the Scalding Sands, but that brings Azul to mind and Jamil has to suppress a shudder.

Why can’t those two annoyances stay out of his head for one minute?

Jamil buries his nose deeper into his textbook and rolls his eyes. Now he wishes he brought his headphones so he could block his thoughts out, but he was so eager to leave that he left them in his dorm—

He flinches when something heavy hits the ground a few rows down, a soft voice frantically shushing reaches his ears.

Are they shushing...the book?

Jamil stifles a quiet laugh. That must be what they're doing, because there’s no way anybody else is in the library this late. He looks up from his book when their footsteps approach where he’s sitting, brow furrowing in confusion. Surely they aren’t coming to this table—

They round the bookshelf, three thick looking books stacked in their arms. They aren’t looking at him at all, but he’s definitely looking at them because they just look so familiar and he can’t put his finger on it but oh, oh, wait a second. He knows exactly who they are and it’s so clear to him now, how could he not recognize them immediately?

He whispers his childhood friend’s name.

He whispers the name just to check if it really is you, back from the dead, or if it's a lookalike that came to haunt not only his dreams but his life too.

He whispers the name to see if it really is the person he took the blame for all those years back when he went to a carnival and had the best time of his life and oh, you’re staring at him now with those same eyes. You recognize the name and that’s enough for Jamil to spring out of his seat, eyes wide.

You yelp, flinching back at his sudden movement. Jamil hisses and jolts forward as the books in your arms start to topple over, grabbing the books to hold them steady, and wrapping an arm around your waist so you don’t fall.

If anyone were to walk in on the two of you, it would look like you’re dancing. Jamil stares and stares and stares, piecing together the little bits of you he remembers and he looks down your arm to see a band that doesn’t belong to Scarabia, which explains how he hasn’t seen you before because he knows if he’d found you before this he never would have let you go again.

“Jamil?” you whisper, tense and unblinking, “Um, I’m okay.”

“Yes, right.” he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm as he sets you back and on your own two feet, “It’s just...It’s been a while.”

“It has.” you murmur, placing your books on the table he was working on.

You’re avoiding him.

“What have you been up to?” he asks, hating the way his voice shakes as he hopes desperately that you won’t run away.

That question makes you break.

“I’m sorry.” you sniffle, dragging your hands over your eyes and it's only then Jamil realizes that you’re crying, “I should have fought harder for you! I can’t get over what happened all those years ago because you were the only one that understood me, and I cared about you so much but no matter how often I tried to sneak out or talk to my parents they wouldn’t let me see you! And when I talked to your parents during the day, they would always say you weren’t home, or that you were out with Kalim, and it was all my fault for dragging you along that day and I’m so sorry for doing that to you—”

“Hey.” Jamil murmurs, placing a gentle hand on top of yours, “Hey. It’s okay. We found each other, didn’t we?”

You look at him with watery eyes and furrow your brow, staring. He can’t imagine what you’ve gone through these past few years, holding this guilt so close to your heart. No wonder you’re a wreck.

“I don’t blame you.” he says, staring straight into your eyes, “I don’t blame you for anything. So don’t blame yourself. That was the most fun I’d ever had.”

“Really?” you smile a little, and Jamil leans forward as if he’ll be able to store that smile in his memory forever.

“Of course.” he smiles back, soft and affectionate, with all the love and tender understanding in the world.

You hesitate, ducking your head again.

You want to ask a question.

“What is it?” he asks, removing his hand from overtop of yours to give you space to think.

He really, really hopes you won’t ask him to leave.

“Can I hug you?” you whisper, almost as if you don’t want him to hear.

Jamil thought you’d never ask.

He opens his arms, a wordless response that you accept gratefully. You fall into him and he falls into you, too. Jamil hears you sob quietly into his vest, right above his heart where that old picture of you rests.

Even now, you always find your way to that spot, don’t you? Jamil supposes it’s only natural since you’ll always have a space there just for you.

[changingplumbob]

Bakery: Henri Hart

Lucky 13 Witches’ Challenge

@bashfulcookies prompts from their Silver Moon Coven post. CC list and download with everyday/formal outfits below cut.

Yes it's out of order but I just made him and am very pleased and wanted to share. He only needs 3 pieces of cc btw.

He wants to bake his way into your heart. Does his baking contain love potions or is it something else that has the public flocking to his shop?

DOWNLOAD from SimFileShare - This does NOT contain the cc as per general creator terms of use. Everyday and Formal are styled. Other outfits are base game.

Skin default: Agave V2 by @nesurii Eyes: Waterdrop by @pralinesims

@pralinesims freckles/mole Yder, Skin detail lashes Spoiler,

@veigasims: Facial hair 31

EA Content

Get Famous: Hair, formal suit

Cool Kitchen Stuff: Everyday outfit

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

For You, I'd Paint the World Red

Prompt: They hadn't meant to do it. They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic. But they couldn't help it. And maybe, just maybe... they were glad they did it. Or the one where MC destroys an entire coven of witches and adopts a kid on the way.

Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

TW: Arson, implied child abuse, please let me know if there is anything else I should add.

AN: Is it just me, or does anyone else get frighteningly vivid dreams that they turn into fanfics so they can share this weird cocktail of feelings and emotions with everyone who's interested? This is very self-indulgent, btw. I just want MC to be allowed to go crazy sometimes. Feral even. We believe in murderous MC supremacy in this house.

Elliot Crowe belongs to my absolute darling of a friend @doodlboy <3 thank you for letting me use your mc in this little thing. This will also be a series of sorts, so please look forward to that ^^

"This is the last one MC."

(e/c) eyes looked up at the sorcerer. Elliot smiled, earning a sigh of relief in return from Solomon's prized apprentice. A very tired, ready-to-fall-asleep-standing apprentice.

"I'm glad," they yawned, stretching their arms over their head as they followed him to the transportation array. "I swear, once I'm done, I'm heading to back home and sleeping for the next three weeks."

"You've certainly earned it," the man hummed, offering his hand, like the gentleman he was. The two stepped onto the array, Elliot activating it with a simple incantation.

A few seconds later, the pair found themselves in front of the last coven's mansion. The massive structure was creeping into the nearby forest, where the younger of the two could make out glowing spectres darting through the trees.

"Tastefully decorated," Elliot remarked, drawing their attention back to the imposing building in front of them. It looked like a normal mansion, from what they could see; nothing particularly stood out a first glance. But there was a slight feeling of difference, something only those sensitive to magic would notice. They had been getting this feeling at nearly every coven they visited.

MC was glad that these visits to the supernatural were once every twenty years. The aim of these 'inspections' was to make sure that the other supernatural members of the world upheld their end of the various treaties and contracts signed by them with the Sorcerer's Society.

MC had met Elliot a few times before through Solomon. Elliot Crowe was the apprentice of one of Solomon's old friends, and almost like a son to the white-haired man. This meant that the sorcerer often checked up on him, resulting in the two young humans bonding over the woes of apprenticeship and making fun of Solomon's age, much to his chagrin.

This friendship was what lead to the two pairing up when the audits were announced. Elliot and MC were chosen to inspect the covens of witches who practised magic under the Sorcerers Society's careful supervision, both major and minor.

All those they had visited up till now were incredibly interested in helping humans at best, and wanting absolutely nothing to do with anyone outside their coven at worst. Either way, it was a somewhat ideal first time doing this for them, even if it was a bit tedious.

They weren't kidding about sleeping for 3 weeks. Belphies pact mark was glowing faintly, almost as if recognizing their wish to indulge in his sin.

Elliot cleared his throat. His eyes locked onto theirs, an uncharacteristic seriousness in them that startled MC enough to chase away their fatigue momentarily. A shiver went up their spine as they felt him put up a magical charm to avoid any eavesdroppers from hearing his next words.

"The coven we're inspecting now," he began, his tone low and firm, "is the one the Society is most wary of, MC. The witches here are known to have made and to look for ways to make, pacts with a large number of demons."

"While most of their pacts are lesser demons, they have a contract with someone rather important in the Devildom. Someone you know quite well."

They didn't have to ask whom. In all the their years of staying at the Devildom, they knew only one notable demon who had a pact- wait, contract?

Elliot seemed to have sensed their confusion as he clarified, "Despite what many think, Mammon didn't actually make a pact with the witches. He signed a contract, presumably one that acts almost like a pact and has nearly the same pull. For what, nobody knows."

They did. They knew exactly why Mammon signed such a disadvantageous contract. But it wasn't their place to spill his secrets. Instead they asked, "Does the Society know what are the conditions of the contract?"

"No," Elliot frowned, his displeasure on not knowing more showing clearly on his face. "No, they don't. The covens are entitled to privacy and secrecy when it comes to things like contracts with demons as long as they're not wreaking havoc on humans. As long as no humans are hurt, the Society mostly lets them be." His voice drops down to a whisper, even though there is no chance of anyone overhearing them because of the charm he'd cast earlier. "But recently, there has been a large number of missing human cases in this area. And well, this particular coven has always been a little shady."

"That's rich, coming from you," MC snorted, elbowing Elliot lightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. Elliot graced them with an exasperated smile. "Very funny, but that's not the point. Now listen carefully. Once we go inside, I will need you to distract them-"

"... Don't tell me I have to dress in drag and do the hula.."

"As funny as it would be, no. Make small talk, use some of your 'little human' charm on them," Elliot hummed. "Whatever you need to do to make sure that you are the only one they pay attention to. Make it seem like you are novice to all of this, as unthreatening as possible. Make them underestimate you."

"Hm. Sounds like something I can do."

"Good. I'll try to slip away unnoticed at a point to actually investigate, so don't worry if you can't see me."

"What do you want out of this Elliot? Or more accurately, what does the Society want?"

"Some proof that their suspicions are right about the coven." A reason to exterminate them went unsaid.

"Alright. I'll do my best."

"You always do."

"And this, is our archives. Please come in, dearest sorcerers."

MC took a big breath and did as they were told, quickly stepping into the room. Their jaw was aching from the dopey smile they had plastered on ever since entering the premises. Just a little longer, they thought to themself, thinking back to how they had lost sight of Elliot halfway into their tour, the coven head not even realizing.

For a coven potentially doing shady things, they sure were lax with their security.

Melvara, the coven head, finally seemed to notice Solomon's absence. "Um, where is Sir Elliot, if I may ask?"

"Oh, he said he needed to use the restroom. He'll be here soon, but wow! This room is huge!" MC grinned, spinning lightly in place as if trying to take in everything. Truthfully speaking, it was not much. They lived in the Devildom with 7 very wealthy brothers, a demon prince who took pleasure in spoiling his friends, and a demon butler who was more attentive and observant than anyone they had ever known. Their mentor was arguably the best sorcerer alive, if a little eccentric, and they had endeared themself to even angels. Needless to say, they were spoiled rotten when it came to once in a lifetime experiences.

Thankfully, Melvara seemed to buy their act, giving them a proud smile. "I'm glad you think so. Now, how about we have some tea while we wait for Sir Elliot to come back? The archives are the last stop before the Forest of a Thousand Spectres, after all."

They hummed, sitting down at the seat offered to them, eyes still taking in everything down to the last detail. Elliot's words had assured them that this would be one report that would require them to go into heavy detail.

The door to the archives opened for the second time.

(E/c) eyes turned to the witch that entered the room, head respectfully bowed and voice reverent as she presented them with tea and snacks. They gave her a sweet smile, watching in carefully veiled amusement as she blushed and nearly spilled the hot beverage. It was cute how a simple smile was enough to put people at ease. After a few hurried apologies and not-so-subtle glances at them, the witch left the room. For a few minutes, there was blissful silence.

"Say, sorcerer MC?"

"Yes?"

"Pardon my forwardness, but I had heard that you have pacts with all seven of the avatars of sin?"

MC hummed, a pleasant smile on their face. "I do," they said, noting the interest in her eyes. Melvara leaned slightly forward, her eyes gleaming with something that made them pause for a second. Right, don't underestimate the other party, they thought to themself chidingly.

"An admirable feat. May I be so bold as to.. offer you some advice?"

Did they really look that gullible?

"Of course, I would love to learn from my elders."

They hadn't meant to do it.

They really hadn't meant to lose control of their magic.

But they couldn't have helped it.

Not when Elliot burst into the archive room, eyes filled with disdain and murderous intent; holding an unconscious girl in his arms. A very familiar child, one they had yet to meet face to face but had seen plenty of pictures of.

They watched with dark satisfaction as flames engulfed the accursed manor and the forest around it. Screams of the witches stuck inside echoed into the darkness, and MC instinctively covered the ear of the girl who now lay in their arms, still unconscious. The few who had no hand in any of the heinous crimes their brethren had committed cowered somewhere behind them.

The Forest of a Thousand Spectres never looked as hauntingly beautiful as it did now.

A hand on their shoulder had them instinctively cradle the girl closer to their chest. A side glance at Elliot, who had the same blank look on his face. "You can go home MC. I'll report this myself," he said, voice barely above a whisper but firm. Not a suggestion then.

MC nodded, the only indication that they had heard him. Elliot sighed. "What.. are you thinking of doing about her, MC?"

"I'm taking her home."

"She's is the only living witness to the atrocities this coven committed. The Society will wish to talk to her."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Another sigh. "Very well. I'll see you after I've reported the incident and" -he looked over to the terrified witches, the innocent ones, who shrank away the moment his gaze was placed on them- "taken care of them."

"Sure," they said, tearing their eyes away from the flames for a just moment to watch Elliot teleport himself and the witches away, presumably to the Society's headquarters.

They did the same moments later, appearing in their room. MC carefully lowered the girl onto their bed, gentle hands adjusting the blankets to offer comfort and warmth. Satisfied with their work, they pulled a chair close to the bed and sat on it. A breathless chuckle escaped from their lips as they felt the slight trembling in their hands. Their eyes scanned the teenager, sleeping soundly under Elliot's recovery spell.

The fact that a simple recovery spell made her fall unconscious spoke volumes about the pain she had suffered.

MC brushed a strand of hair away from her face, vaguely thinking about Mammon's reaction when he finds out exactly what the sweet little girl had been through. They stole another glance at her, then picked up their DDD.

S.S Audit Stuff (Lucifer, Solomon, Elliot and you)

You: Lucifer. Solomon.

You: We need to talk.

You: Meet me in my room.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hii! using the same prompt as the "farmer as a walking dead (part 2)" could i possibly get magnus' reaction to seeing his spouse like that? (aka magnus reacting to the farmer being able to control themselves despite being practically dead)

if your requests aren't open then i am SO sorry, i saw that the status was set to open and just assuned they were

Hello, dear anon! 👋

You read that right - my askbox is open again, so welcome and don't be shy to ask something again! Thanks for the ask btw (mmm, angst and pain, my favorite 🥲) and enjoy!

"It was all my fault..."

_________________________________________

The Farmer was lucky that it was Camilla who first discovered them, as other mages and adventurers would have simply destroyed the already not quite alive youth without even looking into it. The head witch of the Castle Village was able to hide the frightened and confused Farmer, who had been missing for about a month, and help them figure out what had happened. It didn't take long to figure it out, because outwardly Farmer was no different from empty shells, shadows of those former adventurers who had fallen victim to the dark ancient magic of the cursed deserts. Except that unlike all of them, Farmer retained their mind and memory.

It was a shock to everyone, and it was naturally that it was a huge shock to Magnus, who rushed into the room where everyone was standing, along with Camilla and Farmer.

The witch had already wanted to punish the one who had blabbed to Magnus about Farmer before his due date. The fact that Farmer was alive, but not quite, was definitely a huge blow to Magnus, and the Castle Village witch wanted to try to soften the blow, for the sake of her old friend.

Confused, angry, hurt, exhausted by sleepless nights and the immense guilt over the death of his most beloved person, Magnus walked up to the Farmer, despite the others' best efforts to stop the wizard.

Some expected a great tirade, some even expected Magnus to start a fight with someone out of an overabundance of emotion. But all the wizard did was to hug the Farmer, who couldn't even say anything in his defense.

All the Farmer's clothes were covered in blood and dirt, they themselves smelled of death, their hearts didn't beat.... And yet, it was them. It was the same Farmer who had smiled their snow-white smile at Magnus that last time they had headed into the Crimson Badlands. It was them...

And Magnus had let them go, let them die...

"Magnus, it's not your fault."

It was all his fault...

"Magnus."

It's all his fault, and he knows it...

"Magnus, look at me."

And he did. He raised his head and directed the look of his moist eyes at Farmer's face.

Even though Farmer's pupils had turned scarlet as rubies and the whites of their eyes were dark as void, it was still the same Farmer.

[the-snake-and-the-steel]

So. Uh. Haven't checked in on this in a LONG time. Can I get a really basic summary of the lore? And I mean basic, for your sake lol. (unless you want to explain things more lol, I'll listen to huge rants too)

OH MY GOD YES FINALLY

OKOKOK

THIS WILL NOT BE SHORT AT ALL

Ok. Let's start with everyone's past and current roles/jobs. Not SUPER important to the story, but important enough. Btw a lot of these titles say 'lead' or 'head' but a good deal of these people are the only ones in their roles so yeah, these'll be like. Their titles

Slynn: King

Icia: Head Guardess

Samuel: Royal Dragonmaster

Dunite: (formerly) Head Baker/ Royal Astronomer (you could also say she was the kingdom mage)

Odette/Odysseus: Grand Maestro

Aklatan: Royal Librarian

Mocha & Latte: Head Chefs

Vaga & Nova: Danseur Nobles

Achilles: Kingdom Hero

EVERYONE ELSE BEYOND THIS POINT ARRIVED AFTER HEXE

Mirobelle: Head Maid

Alexander: Royal Tailor

Ramona: Kingdom Mechanic

Switch: Spymaster

Yume: Minstrel

Ok, Got those out of the way.

Now to the actual lore.

Currently there are 2 "eras" to the Kingdom, or the two "reigns". There's Ramiro's reign, and Hexe's reign.

Ramiro's reign was the 'golden age' of the kingdom. He was a kings advisor, and despite often being confused (and kinda going crazy) he was very loving and caring towards everyone in the kingdom. He taught everyone how to play their parts to make the entire kingdom prosper and watched over as everyone literally ran a kingdom together. Sure Slynn was the king, but really the kingdom wouldn't survive without anyone. Slynn surveyed over everyone, Icia led a whole army to fight off typical kingdom enemies (a challenge Ramiro deemed necessary) and much more.

That was unfortunately the shortest reign.

There isn't a said explanation as to where Ramiro went, but one day everyone woke up to a witch being in his place. Hexe was and is everything that Ramiro is not; sadistic, cruel, manipulative, selfish, and never questioned ANYTHING. She basically wanted everything to run for her, rather than the sake of the kingdom.

Obviously, pretty much everyone was against this. Except Slyn. It's not stated why or how, but he fell for Hexe HARD and let himself become a puppet that she could use to her own means. Especially because now, every single NPC was entirely under their control. Which was a lot.

While most people rebelled, some unwillingly sided with Slynn and Hexe in order to avoid conflict. The leaders of the rebellion were Icia and Achilles, who teamed up to try and kill Hexe. After a long, heavy battle however Hexe won due to abusing her own powers as, essentially, a god.

At this point, Hexe decided to curse every resident in the kingdom. Their curses varied based on how much they rebelled, so while Slyn only lost some control of his snakes, Achilles was given severe ridicule and shame while Icia was given endless anxiety and had her ice control reduced to only her emotions.

The next years of Hexe's control had a heavy, heavy impact on everyone. They were constantly walking on eggshells, having each and every thing they did or word they said heard by Hexe. She would punish those who defied her rules or who she felt needed it, and went so far as to use mind control so they would listen to her and she could force them to do things they'd never otherwise do. She enjoyed having control over everyone, going so far as to forbid and force relationships that she disapproved of or desited to see. Slynn obeyed every word of hers and the two actually (somehow) got married which officially gave Hexe the title of "Queen". It was also during this period that an extremely significant event happened between Icia and Achilles which prompted Icia to want to escape, and made Hexe give Achilles another curse: Immortality.

Icia leaving the kingdom was the most defiance someone had ever shown Hexe, so her mere mention was forbidden throughout the kingdom.

After Icia left, Hexe got bored of mind control, but would still use the curses she inflicted on everyone to make life much harder than it had to be. Slynn assisted her with this in every way he could, blinded by infatuation though she only saw him as a tool and plaything.

That's the basis of the lore for before I started the kingdom blog.

The biggest events happening after were Dunite's execution (a long planned event after Dunite repeatedly snuck Icia into the kingdom (and eventually Aoki) through spells and magic) and Ramona's execution (a spur of the moment death).

Ramonas execution has been the most significant throughout all of this, because she was the very first one to not give a fuck in any way, shape, or form. No matter how much Hexe tried to torture her, Ramona wouldn't break and would rather taunt her instead. The final straw came when, after learning about Icia (against Hexe's will), Ramona vandalized the throne room and decorated with Icias past belongings. That act, along with further taunts (that were actually a good point) were Hexe's breaking point and she killed Ramona.

Okay... I think that's the basic summary of lore. At least, the important stuff.

[chodzacaparodia]

Writers tag game

Prompt: share some writing

Thank you so much for tagging me @miyamiwu ♡. Yeah, tagging didn't work (it happens to me sometimes too), but I just saw your post hahah!

This will be the beginning of my first Blue Lock fic, which I've been working on for probably a month now and I still haven't finished it. Of course, I assumed it would be short, but I got carried away again and I have almost 10k words now… However, I'm starting to get closer to the end and I really hope to publish the whole thing this month.

Here we gooo (it will be Hiorin btw)

He used to believe that his soulmate was his brother. Because who else could it be? He had never felt such a bond with anyone. He had always admired him and no one else mattered to Rin like Sae. Most of his memories were of his brother. Their father was merely the background, and their mother was mostly associated with the stories about soulmates she told him at bedtime in his early childhood. She was enchanted by them because she was among the few people blessed with a soulmate, who was Rin and Sae's father. Therefore, Rin became an expert in all known stories about destined people: imaginary ones, but also real ones. He especially liked those stories where siblings were soulmates, which was especially common among twins. The platonic bond between friends also wasn't that bad. However, Rin was not interested in the idea of romantic love, so he usually asked his mother to tell those stories where siblings separated in childhood found each other thanks to the bond of their souls. His requests often caused his mother, a great romantic, to give him a slightly disappointed look. But he didn't care.  These stories gave him hope that he had his soulmate in his brother. True, his feelings for Sae were different from those described in his mother's stories, but he was still sure that if anyone was to be his soulmate, it would be Sae.

(If this was ao3 and not tumblr, I would apologize for any mistakes because English is not my first language lmaooo)

No pressure tagging: @witch-from-a-block-of-flats, @sohereisthisasshole, @vidianlucivious, @blue-thief and anyone who wants to do this <3