#three witches au

[naffeclipse]

Charm Brought It Back Pt. 3

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

The lovely @pure-plum request a third part to @jackofallrabbits's and my Hocus Pocus AU! I'm so excited to share this next installment. The witch boys are far from done with the little historian and Michael has some explaining to do. Sun needs to share some vows and Eclipse tries to explain some things on the roof of Michael's home. Enjoy!

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, heavy touching, injury, blood, violence, fire, (temporary) animal death and (temporary) character death.

———

On the outskirts of town, where the buildings and the suburban life thins into winding roads and wild, pale orange and deep red trees, is Michael’s home. He lumbers towards it like a creature from a 1950s movie.

Weaving between your footsteps is Vanessa, the talking rabbit. Her ears stay pricked and her wide, green eyes scan the starry skies constantly—blades of dead grass stick to the legs of your pants. Holes decorate your sweater, and your breathing has yet to level into something less frightening by the night's events.

You close your eyes for a brief moment to contain all the terror within you, but you almost trip on the dark pavement of the road. Michael reaches out to steady you with a rotten hand. Straightening quickly before giving him a glance of reassurance that you're alright, you nod. You stare at the putrid flesh of his fingers. Your stomach twists.

His dark eyes, alit only with twin, pale pricks of light, linger upon you. The weight is unbearable.

You’re not walking much better than the cursed, rotting man with a broken leg. When you asked him if it hurts, he said no. He can’t feel much of anything. You almost burst into tears, but he told you to keep going. It’ll be alright. 

You don’t know what to think anymore.

“There, up ahead,” Michael's voice churns with gravel. He gestures with a putrid arm. “My house. We’ll be safe there.”

It’s a bonte-white structure, a touch old considering the peeling paint on the outside as well as the overflowing garden of lavender—but you understand now why the flora flourishes on the grounds. 

Two stories tall, the roof slants over the attic. On top, a cupola framed in square panes of glass gives a small sense of safety, like a lighthouse on a cliff overlooking a stormy sea. The dark shingles slope down over the upper-level windows. 

“Do you know where Afton’s home is?” Vanessa speaks, and it almost startles you out of your wits. Her small, fuzzy head turns towards him while he reaches the front gate and shoves it open. You follow in afterward.

Your brow crinkles. When Michael first approached you, inquiring history of some genealogy he was doing on his family, you did point out a few historical buildings and locations within town. He said he needed your research for… personal reasons.

“I do, thanks to our friend,” he gestures to you. 

Vanessa flatly says, “The virgin.”

You cringe as the rabbit hops onto the porch. Michael stops before the cement steps with a quiet growl.

“Don’t say that.” He turns to you. “Can you help me up? I’m sorry, I smell like death.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, then immediately grimace at the stretch while you take his arm. “It’s not… going to fall off if I tug you up, right?”

His dark hair falls across his forehead while he shrugs. “I hope not.”

With that cheerful reassurance, you hook his elbow. Shadowing his step, you help him lift his bad leg onto the step, and pull the rest of his body afterward. Repeating the motions, you fall into a natural rhythm by the time you reach the front door. All the while, your mind whirls at Michael’s current condition while the rabbit waits impatiently at the door and the bizarre events since you lit the starry candle. 

“You didn’t tell me…” you say softly but fall short. You don’t want it to be an accusation, but you want to know. “You didn’t tell me about the brothers.”

He turns his face towards you. The clogging scent of decay infiltrates your nostril and you’re forced to cough to clear it away. Spying the yellowed cusps of his molars between threads of his cheek flesh conjures a sickness in your middle. His half-rotten lips press together into a thin line.

“It’s hard to approach someone with ‘Hey, I’m a witch hunter, just like my great ancestor who hung witches.’”

“Michael,” you chide.

“I warned you,” he says.

“I know.” You shake your head. Reaching out, you grab the door handle and push it open. “We need to brace your leg. Just because you don’t feel hurt doesn’t mean you aren’t.”

“Cursed,” he corrects quietly. “Not hurt. It could have been worse.”

His eyes drift to Vanessa, who stands guard for one moment, staring out into the darkness, before he returns his attention to you.

“I can still do things, though I wouldn’t want to be caught by the witches. They would torture me for eternity if they had it their way, I’m certain,” he drips derision.

A dark fist squeezes your heart. Heavy and pained, you guide Michael into his home. You’ve been in here once or twice, advising him in his research since he asked for your help. It was fun. You like talking about the town’s history how many historical homes are still maintained in the area and what significant events took place on what are now random fields or paved parking lots.

“Do you have some wood boards or planks we can use for a splint?” You ease Michael onto a blue couch, ripping slightly at the seams along the arms. The pale wood coffee table is overrun with books, an assortment of old and dark pages worn by time. You’re tempted to flip through titles, but fear keeps you on track. Michael might dissolve into dust and bones right before your eyes. 

“Yeah, under the sink. I have medical supplies in there.” Michael nonchalantly grabs his ripped jeans leg by the knee and hauls his broken leg up to prop it across the coffee table. A part of you squirms to see the unnatural bend in his shin bone, the leg all but collapsing. He continues without missing a beat, “Don’t worry about cleaning the wound or painkillers.”

“O-okay.” You sound far away. Those aspects are important to treating any injured person but what rules apply to a cursed man? Dizziness circles your skull as you stumble into the kitchen. A few dirty mugs are left in the sink. Rummaging underneath it, you find a black tote filled with medical supplies, a suspiciously, well-prepared assortment from bandages to antibacterial ointments. Needles for sutures wink up at you. Wooden stints wait as if expecting you.

Why does Michael have so much emergency aid prepared? It would be nice to think of Michael as simply a man who is well-prepared for the worst, but after tonight, how can you believe that? He’s a witch hunter in the modern day. 

There’s so much you don’t understand. 

Picking up the entire tote, your questions follow you back into the living room. Vanessa sits on her haunches on the coffee table, her fur still caked with streaks of dirt as she examines Michael’s broken leg. He straightens on the couch as best as he can when you kneel beside his wounded leg.

Following Michael’s instructions, you set the splints around the limb, up his knee, and over the top of his shoes. 

“Ties,” Michael says, “right here.” He leans over and fishes through the tote until he finds dark cords. 

You tie it carefully. You don’t want it too tight or else it could cut off blood circulation—if that is still functioning within his walking corpse. Dismissing the idea, you shudder and finish off the knot. 

“Do you have salt? More charms?” Vanessa asks, her attention upon Michael.

“I do. Weapons too,” he says.

“Wait.” You straighten, stepping back to gaze at both of them. This is not a normal conversation. This is not a normal get-together with a zombie and a rabbit—you need answers. Now.

“What is it?” Vanessa asks, her little rabbit face perturbed by your behavior.

“What is going on? No one has given me a straight answer all night.” You cross your arms, clutching at the torn sleeves of your sweaters. 

Michael and Vanessa share a glance as if they’ve known each other far longer than just this evening. Isolation settles upon you.

Michael faces you, testing the splints to see how well they hold. They remain rigid around the broken limb.

“The brothers are witches. They’re very real, and they’re very dangerous,” he says, his dark, sunken eyes holding your gaze. “My ancestor, William Afton, was a witch hunter. He hanged them for their crimes.”

“They were supposed to stay dead.” Vanessa’s voice lowers. Shame and hatred mingle into a chord under her tone. “I was there the day the brothers were hanged. I was the one who led Afton, my master, right to their home. For that, the brothers cursed me with immortality and this wretched body.”

Her ears flick. A heaviness settles over your chest, and your breath quickens into a shallow, desperate rhythm.

“You mean… all this time?” you whisper. 

Vanessa stares at you. Her green eyes are unreadable.

“All this time, I guarded the starry candle. Until you came along,” she seethes for one brief moment.

“Vanessa,” Michael’s voice cuts over her. “Don’t… I shouldn’t have let anyone go there, much less alone.”

“There’s the ceremony we must worry about,” she jumps in place, twisting to face him. “We must only wait them out until dawn, and they will return to their graves.”

Your head spins. The witches who spun you around and purred in your ear have wrecked so much havoc, even after their demises. You turn away.

Michael calls out your name.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” you ask, not looking back at him. Your fingers knot ceaselessly into the fabric of your sweater, widening the holes further. 

“Of course.” Michaels’ voice softens. “Up the stairs, in the attic. Take whatever shirt you want. There’s something else we need to tell you, though. Can you wait a moment?”

“No,” you whisper, then shake your head, “Just… Just give me one minute, okay?”

You don’t wait for an answer as you step out of the room. Hurrying up the stairway that leads to the attic, you hear a hushed exchange. The rabbit harshly wonders if it’s wise to let you leave. You hurry up the steps.

The landing is open, sprawling with chests shoved against walls and a dusty desk left beside a window overlooking the garden sprawling with lavenders down below. A sack of wooden and leather charms sits near the top of the stairs. Across the room, a bed sits with a thick, brown quilt depicting yellow and orange flowers in geometric patterns over the cover. Does Michael sleep up here?

You venture forward, finding a closet with bi-folding doors. You nervously touch your fingers to the handle. Michael said it was alright, but somehow, this feels like an invasion of privacy. A little funny, considering you don’t know as much about your friend as you thought. 

Sliding one open, you find a few shirts hanging. Plaids and button-ups and pullovers, all with the faint hint of Michael’s musky, woody scent. You reach for a fisherman’s sweater, green and thickly textured. Lifting the hook off of the rack, you gingerly handle it with grimy fingers. You make a quiet sound of equal disgust and annoyance at yourself.

Look at you. You’re a mess. You went to explore a historical home and brought three witches back to life. Michael and Vanessa know who the brothers are and the brothers have seemingly claimed you as an intricate piece in a ceremony you have yet to understand.

You should listen to what the witch hunter and cursed rabbit woman have to say. Learning more and diving deep into the past has never been a feat you’ve shrunk away from, but you feel so strange. Confused. 

Phantoms of Eclipse’s hands slip underneath your sweater. Moon’s vows circle your head in a chant, spell-binding and complete. Your stomach burns with the memory of Sun pulling you onto his lap and flying off. 

This should be simple, like a fable. The witches must be defeated and the village saved. Historically, however, witches were only innocents. They were victims of powerful people and scapegoats for natural disasters and widespread sickness. They weren’t luring children away into the house of candy. They were simply practicing an art or culture that so few understood.

A gentle stroke of pity fills you when you think of the brothers and their hangings. Were they truly so evil they deserved to die?

You hear a soft creak of wood just above your head. Your eyes lift to the ceiling. The home is old. It’s bound to groan and settle in around you. Though your heart briefly knocks against your ribs, you clutch at your holey sweater and remember what you’re doing.

Michael and Vanessa are waiting for you. There’s more you don’t understand, and you have to face it. You lower your shoulders and close your eyes, then shiver.

A cool draft ghosts through the room. You turn, dropping the red sweater on the bed. Curiously, your eyes roam the windows, searching for which one hangs open—and why you didn’t feel a breeze before.

A spiral staircase leads up into the cupola. You peer skyward into the black, starry darkness through frames of wood. One of the glass panes is slightly ajar, pushed in, and left precariously loose. A chill slips against your skin through the holes of your sweater.

Was that always open?

Your spine tingles; the sensation of no longer being alone. 

“Hello, sunshine,” a cheerful, dripping voice slips into your ear from behind you.

Sun.

You inhale sharply. Before you can scream, a hand clamps over your mouth. An arm, lithe and solid as iron, wraps around your waist. The witch lifts you off your feet. Struggling, you claw at the hands holding you. Panic surges into your veins as you’re carried across the room and then twisted around to face your abductor. Without his warm, dark palm leaving your lips, Sun pins you onto the bed. You gaze up at him, eyes wide as he grins devilishly. He immediately slots his knees on the other side of your legs, hovering above you like a dark red sunrise, securing you in place.

A quiver runs through you. Your middle returns with a familiar warmth while you roam over his visage. His wide, pale eyes greedily devour you. His other hand softly pets your collarbone, hooking the collar of your shirt to expose more skin.

“There you are.” His thumb softly swipes your cheek without giving you room to speak. “I feared the fool rabbit and the rotten witch hunter spirited you away from us. No need to fear, my darling. We’ve come back for you.”

You whine underneath his palm. His grin widens as if he finds your little muffled sounds adorable. Sharp teeth glint in the near darkness of the attic.

Squirming, you grab at the edge of the bed and attempt to pull yourself out from under him. Sun clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Ah, ah, ah, my dove! I haven’t gotten a kiss from you yet.” He shakes his head with great sorrow. “Don’t you want to hear my vows?”

He snatches your wrists, one by one, and shackles them in his one fist. He lifts them over your head and holds them against the headboard. Your heart thunders at how easily he contains you. Yet, you twist and flutter at him so close. A scent of honey and wildflowers falls from his cloak, sweet and intimate. You gaze up at him, little more than a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“It’s truly breaking my heart,” he feigns dramatically slumping. “My eldest brother has the pleasure of knowing the taste of your lips, and my twin has spoken his vows to you, but what of me? What am I supposed to do but die of heartbreak?”

He leans closer. Your eyes dart to his mouth and back to his gaze, holding you in a feverish, boiling want. A swipe of his tongue wets his teeth. A heat floods your cheeks.

“Shhh, sunshine. I’ll remove my hand so long as you’re good.”

You weakly nod. Your jaw trembles under his palm before the witch spears you with one last warning. His grin, however, grows. His hand lifts away and frees your mouth. Nervously, you lick at your lips while he studies the movement with pleasure staining his expression.

His hand falls, his dark satin fingertips flowing down your chin before ghosting over the sensitive cords of your throat. As if painting with his hands, he follows the curve of your collarbones. You wince when his claws cut through your poor sweater as he warms your chilled body with his palm pressed against your shoulder.

“Will you allow me the honor of becoming your husband?” He holds your gaze. 

Your breath slows as his hand falls to your side and begins softly caressing you through a notable tear in the knitwear of your shirt. A shiver spreads across your body from his touch. He tilts his head, his sun rays cutting through the darkness in a peacock-like twirl.

“Will you allow me to worship you endlessly, to be at your beck and call, to endure curses and terrors, and to witness blooming gardens and bright days by your side?” He sighs so sweetly as if he can’t stand the thought of stalling a moment more. “I’m afraid you are simply too lovely. Let me show you my devotion, then you may say ‘I do.’”

A tender pang in your heart ripples through you. Gazing into his pale, wide eyes, you fall into them. Would someone so evil have so much good to say? Would he ask for your hand in marriage if he truly meant harm?

“Sunshine?” Sun purrs gently. “It’s alright. You can speak your vows later.”

“Wait,” you whisper. Your gut twists as you think of Michael and Vanessa. Your friends are cursed, and they have the power to undo it. “Michael and Vanessa are suffering. Can’t you remove the curse placed upon them?”

Sun’s mouth pulls taut into a razor-sharp grin, but he doesn’t truly smile. Your stomach clenches with dread.

“How sweet to think the enemies of my brothers and I deserve mercy.” He withdraws his hand from the hole in your sweater and slips down to the hem slipping up your waist. His thumb slides over your hip bone. Softly, he begins circling it and you must bite your bottom lip to keep from gasping at how gentle his touch is. 

“Please,” you say quietly. You curl your fingers, still trapped under Sun’s grip. “I can’t say what you want me to say until Michael and Vanessa are free.”

“Hm,” he hums, the sound rolling deep in his chest, “A great gift to demand as our bride. Why don’t we speak of something else? Something more delicious.”

Your lips part as he leans down. His face is mere inches from your own, and you feel a buzz upon your mouth in anticipation. Shyly, a pink blush fills your face.

He draws his hand from your hip and takes your chin in his hand. His thumb gently brushes your bottom lip, holding you in place.

“You have the most beautiful freckles,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and sultry. “Your lips are like roses. Won’t you let me stain myself in them?”

“Sun.” You want to turn your face away, but he’s so close. You can smell the sweetness of his person, and your core becomes molten. 

His mouth finds yours, and heated light falls over you. You fall utterly still under his gentle and smooth, practiced motion. Pushing and pulling, like steps to a dance, he kisses you. His tongue softly swipes at the seam of your lips, asking for entry. A mewl catches in the back of your throat. Insistent but gentle, Sun’s tongue finds its way past your teeth. The molten heat within you becomes lava, volcanic, and you are filled with his feverish desire to love you.

His grip softly flexes against your waist and wrists. Your back arches slightly, and his hand slips underneath you to support your spine. He draws you flush against him. Your sweater rides up, and you feel the soft fabric of his billowy shirt and the smooth, marbledness of his torso. A great fluttering erupts within your chest. Dizzy and struck by his full attention, you are molded by the sheer heat of his affection.

You’ve never felt such love before.

His tongue caresses your own before he draws it slowly out of your mouth. A stretch of spit follows before it snaps. He breaks the kiss, leaving you cold. You whine, afraid to never have such a connection again. You fall back to the mattress but Sun’s hand splayed over your back refuses to let you go, and you remain fast against his body.

He chuckles. “You are so sweet and precious. I have had lovers before, but you are the one who will stay with me. You are mine.”

You breathe out heavily. Your chest is gooey and warm, and your heart beats to a fiery tempo. 

“It’s alright,” he speaks in a low growl, passionate and terrifying, “Accept my vows, and I will love you for eternity. I will give you my heart on a silver platter. I will be your undying servant. I will dance with you every dawn. Sunshine, say ‘I do.’”

It’s on the tip of your wet lips. The words. The one phrase that will somehow evoke magic and time and fate, and make you entirely his.

“Oh, Sun,” you breathe, shaking your head.

Would it be wrong? Couldn’t you show him that he has too many curses? There are other ways he and his brothers can use their magic, right? They don’t have to be like this again.

“One more kiss,” he breathes against your cheek, fingers curling against the dimples of your spine before he bows over you. Your breath catches at the touch of his lips—

Footsteps thunk, slow and uneven, up the stairs. Michael's voice calls out to you, gently, but the undertone of concern does not miss your ears. The splint is working. The quick scurry of little claws scrabbling upwards echoes towards you and the witch about to kiss you.

Sun snarls silently. 

You clench your hands.

“Don’t hurt them,” you whisper, “Please.”

He levels you with a look, a glint of a blade-like calculation.

Rising, Sun pulls you after him in a whisking motion. Your vision spins as your hands fly down to cling to his shoulders. Taking your hips, Sun secures you against him, glaring daggers at the steps leading into the attic room before Michael’s purple face emerges, then widens in alarm and fury. Vanessa bound inwards and jerks to a stop, stunned. 

Sun cackles as he skips you backward in a dizzying, near glide upwards to the cupola. 

“Go and rot elsewhere, witch hunter!” he calls out. You clutch at his arms as he pulls you towards the askew window pane. The night breeze causes your hair to flutter around you. Sun grips you tighter, bowing close and protective over you. “It’s a beautiful night for a wedding, don’t you think?”

“No!” Michael shouts your name, stumbling forward at a break-neck speed. Vanessa scrambles up the thin, narrow steps with bounding legs.

Before you can cry out, Sun bends in half, forcing you down with him as he sticks one leg out of the window, and in one smooth motion, taking you in his arms like it’s your wedding night, he slides you out of the window and onto the roof of Michael’s home. You catch the last fleeting glimpses of Michael and Vanessa, both slapped with horror.

Sun extends his hand. With a hushed but fierce chant, magic heats the air. The little hairs on your arms prickle with a sizzling sensation as Sun casts a spell from his lips. The glass becomes molten, shining orange and taffy-like as it remains stuck within its frames, and then with one more word, Sun changes the glass once more. It warps and expands, becoming almost triple in thickness. 

You catch the sight of Michael throwing himself up the stairs. A warning flies from your lips. Whether he can’t hear you or he can’t stop himself if he wants to or not, he flies into the glass. He bounces off of it as if it were a steel wall. He hits the other end of the cupola, almost falling down the steps before he catches himself.

You gasp sharply. Clinging to the shoulders of Sun’s cloak, he purrs in delight as he slips carefully down the old, faded shingles.

“It’s alright, sunshine.” He pecks your cheek as the sloped roof descends to a dangerous lip with only the gutter acting as a barrier between you and a 20-foot drop. “Eclipse should have cursed the witch hunter into a rabbit. A yellow one with purple eyes. I would have let you keep him as a pet. Vanessa, too, if you ask nicely.”

“Don’t drop me!” your voice rises shrilly as you tuck your face against his neck. “Please.”

“Oh, I’ve received enough lectures from my brothers,” he laughs, then presses close to your cheek, contrite. “Please, forgive me, my darling. My excitement overtook me. I merely had to have you—and our vows still haven’t been exchanged!”

He steps over one of the windows, taking you to the south-facing side of the house, away from the window you both emerged from. Sun is light and graceful as he crosses the dizzying slopes of the roof. 

“The bride returns,” a familiar voice crones. Eclipse.

Lifting your head, you start as Sun slips towards the very lip of the roof. There, floating right in the open air, dozens of feet above the lavender garden, is Eclipse. Moon perches on an arch upon the roof with a disgruntled expression twisting his face while he strokes the warm, honeyed wood of Sun’s broom.

“I’m surprised you didn’t drop our bride once more,” Moon drips with venom. You gaze at him, remembering how he pinned you to the mausoleum wall. A bubbling roil returns to your middle.

“Silence, brother,” Sun growls, “You had your chance to exchange vows and you lost it to a fool imp and a vermin!”

Moon’s red eyes soften upon you when your gazes meet.

“Hello, little mouse. We almost lost you.”

“Moon,” you say softly, blinking against the starlight.

“Come here, little comet.” Eclipse opens his arms out to you. You openly stare. With ease, he balances upon the slender reddish-brown wood of his broom, his cape descending around him like wings. His grin is sharp and earnest, all at once. “We must make haste.”

“Wait, wait,” you try to shake your head but Sun passes you easily onto Eclipse’s lap as if you were mere feathers. 

“Sun?” Eclipse looks to his brother.

“No, I didn’t get vows in return,” he huffs, “the nasty witch hunter has a habit of interrupting private engagements.”

“I thought so.” Eclipse faces you. You sit securely upon his lap. His black cloak drapes slightly over your legs in the manner of a warm blanket. He gently takes your chin in his hand. You are still at the slight trace of his other circling your waist and securing you close. “You need to perform the ceremony with us.”

“Why? Why is it so important I perform the ceremony with you?” you ask softly. The cool air sends a chill down your back. Eclipse frowns before he hugs you close to his chest, sheltering you from the elements.

For a beat, he is silent. He strokes your arm with the back of his hand in slow, tender motions. Your eyelids flutter under such gentleness.

The sound of glass cracking jabs into the air, muffled but distant. A sharp growl echoes from Moon and Sun. You try to twist back to see if Michael is emerging onto the roof but Eclipse hums sharply, regaining your attention.

“It’s important because of you,” he answers gravely but with no less affection. “I have waited a whole life and death for you. As have my dear brothers. Sunrise will be here soon.”

“Sunrise?” you ask, confused. You’ve heard them tell of the bells ringing for them at dawn. “What does that mean then?”

Eclipse cups your face, forcing your attention upon him despite the rush of footsteps scrambling over the roof, and the harsh breaths and sharp curses.

“You love us, don’t you?”

Your lips part breathlessly. His eyes hold you in molten gold, and you become unbalanced once more.

Do you?

Can you marry these strange and handsome witches the very night you brought them back from their graves?

He drops his touch from your mouth and softly caresses the back of your hand. He looks down at it, admiring the small hills of your knuckles and the softness of your skin.

“We don’t have long,” he says. “We have already devoted our hearts to you, little comet. You have the power to—”

“LET THEM GO!” Michael shouts.

Eclipse’s head snaps back to the roof. Sun and Moon are clawing over the singles, the former giving chase after Michael. Shards of glass stick out of the sleeve of his torn shirt, embedded into his flesh; he seems to ignore the wounds entirely. Moon snatches a white rabbit rushing over the arch of the roof with a swipe of his claws. A sharp squeak of pain echoes from Vanessa. Holding up his catch like a fox with his meal, the witch cackles. 

You startle and start to wiggle desperately off of Eclipse’s lap. 

“Please!” You extend a hand towards Sun and Moon. “Don’t hurt them!”

Eclipse begins to wrap both arms tight around you, despite your struggle. Michael recklessly charges down the slope of the roof and reaches deep into his pocket. Producing pale lavender petals, he tosses them like confetti into the air just as Eclipse curses, then shrieks as the petals fall over you both like rice at a wedding.

“No! We’re running out of time!” Eclipse shrieks as he rapidly swipes at his person, removing the petals with a pained expression, but his golden eyes hold you captive. “My bride.”

You sadly shake your head. A dark mouth swallows your heart in a twisting torment: to stay or to leave. To forsake your friends or to give in to your suitors. 

On a nameless fear, you turn back to the roof and fling yourself off of Eclipse’s lap. His claws swipe at your sweater, ripping a tear into the back of it but you managed to land on the lip of the roof. The gutter buckles. You scream. Michael yanks you by the collar of your almost-ruined shirt and drags you up the roof. Sun cuts into his path.

“Nasty little corpse,” Sun snarls, “I’ll teach you to stay dead.”

“Sun, don’t!” Your eyes widen.

His pale eyes flash to you, his wicked grin easing. In the brief moment of Sun’s distraction, Michael squeezes several petals and a charm in his fist. The lethal design flashes in the starlight. Michael hurls the charm and the few petals left. When the charm hits Sun’s chest, a sharp sizzle echoes. The witch yelps, writhing as you fear a searing of flesh before he manages to fling it off of him. Sun is left clawing at where a mark burns through the fabric of his shirt.

Up the roof, Michael scrambles, towing you after him, trying as you might to look back at Sun in your worry. You reach a hand out towards the witch. He stops in his writhing to look back, but Michael pulls you faster until your feet almost give out from underneath you. Across a peak in the roof, Michael zeros in on Sun’s broom.

“Michael,” you say, but he is already striding towards it. Using his un-splinted leg, he brings his boot down hard on the broom until it snaps and cracks in half.

“Afton!” Sun howls, “I’ll make you pay!”

You hear a sharp snarl from across the roof. You face Moon clutching Vanessa as he begins the mutterings of a curse. Vanessa is kicking with her hind legs and writhing. His black claws wrap around her dirty white fur before she manages to twist and sink her teeth into his hand. A growl, pain-filled and brimming with loathing, echoes before he hurls her away from him. Vanessa falls down the roof and over the edge.

“Vanessa!” you scream out.

“She’s fine, she’s fine,” Michael utters, dragging you back to the cupola. “Go, go, she’ll be outside on the grass, and then we’ll run.”

“No, no, no!” you half-sob. You lock eyes with Moon, his expression unreadable. His eyes are red like blood but he makes no more to stalk after you as Michael shoves you through the shattered window. Thick shards of glass lie upon the steps of the narrow staircase and the wood frame is splintered. 

“Hurry,” Michael urges. He pulls you rapidly through the attic room. He stops only to snatch a leather bag and throw it over his shoulder. “It’s not safe here anymore. They’ll curse it. We have to get to town, shake them off our trail.”

“But Michael, Vanessa,” you sob and realize how stupid you are to trust the witches. They are violent. They are wicked.

You wanted so badly to kiss them.

“Focus up,” he says firmly. “Stay with me.”

You catch a whiff of smoke. You and Michael both pause on the top of the staircase leading to the ground floor, and peer up to find flames licking at the wood of the cupola greedily, and descending further, and further down.

“Fire. Of course,” Michael mutters. “Let’s go.”

He yanks on your arm and you both fly down the steps. Out of the door, you scramble over the porch and onto the lawn, finding the still form of Vanessa on the grass. Just like Michael said. You tear away from Michael to snatch up the rabbit’s body in your arms. You turn her head and find blood splattering the side of her face. Her poor, broken body hangs limp in your hands.

“Vanessa,” you wail.

“Run. It will be okay.” Michael pulls you after him. He races down the lone road, towards the light of the town. 

Twisting back once to stare up at Michael’s home now descending in rapid, unnatural flames of bright orange, you almost fall at the sight of it becoming ash. Upon the roof sit three witches, watching you race away. Their stillness pierces your heart. You sob once more and kiss Vanessa’s head in apology. You didn’t mean for her to die.

Why would they do that? You begged them not to.

Michael keeps running an awkward gait with his splinted leg and his rotten flesh. You keep pace, shoes slapping on the pavement, hugging a dead rabbit to your heart with tears spilling down your face.

[basilpaste]

Chapter III: The Thorn

"This one yearns for connections they feel they don't deserve. Even when shown compassion, they hid themself away. They will make for a cautious heart."

ive been thinking about a slay the princess au. i wanted loop to be the witch. which also meant that loop had to be the thorn. and then i fixated on this so hard i finished it in three hours.

[arthur-lesters-spinal-cord]

Bellaverse au!

Hello and welcome to an idea thats been spinning around my head for months.

The basics:

Arthur runs away from his marriage when Faroe is born, Bella survives Faroes birth.

Bella is tied to a fractured piece of Lillith.

Bellas version of Parker is a newly freed from the dreamlands Noel.

Its a really long one so its going under the cut. Props to you if you manage to read this.

Pretty much everything we know before the birth of Faroe stays the same. Neither Bella or Arthur love one another, they are still both trapped in their relationship.

On the day Faroe is born after getting drunk in the bar Arthur decides to run away from his obligations to his wife and family. He isn’t justified and he knows this. However when has guilt stopped Arthur from being selfish and trying to escape his problems? He ends up in New York but this isnt about him.

Bella survives the birth but there were complications and she has to stay in hospital much longer than would be normal, the whole time never receiving word from her husband. Once she gets out of the hospital she finds that Arthur is missing, the things he could carry (ie clothes and any thing bearing a deep significance to him) removed from their house, only a wad of cash and a hastily written apology in Arthurs handwriting remain.

Instead of going back to her father (who she blames for making her marry Arthur in the first place) Bella decides to raise Faroe on her own. Moving to Arkham she works as a tailor. When people ask her about her child and lack of husband she says she is a widower. Which is not wholly a lie, Arthur is dead to her.

A few years later Bella has a sizeable order to fulfil but if she manages it she would have the money to buy her own shop and create a business instead of working from her flat. Often when she has a large order her friend, Tess helps her out by looking after Faroe. Tess works as a nanny to a few of the families in the area. On the night of this particular order Tess is working and cant help Bella. Tess does however, come over to help out before she has to go to work. Just before leaving she turns on the water for Faroes bath for Bella telling her to turn it off in a few minutes. Bella works with the radio on, she doesnt like silence. It reminds her of growing up and the more recent memory of the hospital ward. Knowing she needs to get this order finished so that she and Faroe can get a better life for themselves she pours all her energy into completing the clothes. She doesn’t hear Faroes cries for help over the radio and her own thoughts on the life this could bring her.

Its only late at night once her work is complete does she remember, and by then its too late.

Faroe is buried in the Saltzman family plot. The funeral is the first time Bella sees her father in years. He asks her to come back to New York with him, she is riddled with guilt over the idea of being where she could’ve raised Faroe, where her daughter would have been safe from her negligence. She goes anyway, she cant think of any other options, what choice does she really have?

Bella begins to drink away her troubles, funded by Daniel trying to help in any way he can but not really understanding how to help in the first place. So he does what he can by making sure Bella has everything she wants, this is not necessarily good for Bella.

Its one day slumped over a bar that she meets a man in a similar position to her. He is gaunt, scarred and starving, with long uncut hair and a haunted look in his eye. She jokes that it looks like they've both hit rock bottom together and offers him a drink, asking if hes ever had a blood and sand. He replies with a mirthless laugh telling her hes had a bit too much of both of those things. They end up at a diner together as the man she met struggles to introduce himself as Noel Finley. They spend most of the night talking. Bella ends up spilling her guts to this stranger, ending up on his side of the table crying into his arms and once the diner closes for the night on a bench in a park. Upon finding out he has no place to stay she drags him home with her past his protests. Its the first time in ten years that someone thinks of and takes care of Charlie wanting nothing in return.

The two of them begin to re-build their lives together. Having someone to collapse onto is rather useful for the both of them. Noel re-joins the police and Bella begins with limited success to hunt for jobs herself.

At some point they move into an apartment together. Daniel thinks they are in a relationship that she doesnt want to tell him about, they arent but hes trying to be supportive anyway (Noel and Bella are the bisexual besties of all time).

After Bella helps Noel with a couple of cases that he comes home and rants about, he begins smuggling casework home with him to ask for her advice. Turns out shes a natural. They start their own private investigative agency together. Noel often deals with clients but once word gets out that one of the investigators is a woman there is an influx of women with cases for them due to the fact they trust Bella to take them seriously. Noel is terrified that it might end the same way as him and Roland, but Bella is finally enthusiastic about something and even if he cant admit it to himself he missed the job. He vets every case they take on as much as he can in order to try and avoid the supernatural if not for his new life's sake then for Bellas.

A few years down the line they end up taking the case about a woman called Hattie who has disappeared, her sister Marie is the one who goes to them. Shortly after the beginning of their investigation they find a link to a priest who has also gone missing, Noel leaves for a few weeks to follow a lead on him (i just dont want him to be Parkered and put in a closet ok). While Noel is away a book arrives in the mail.

Upon opening it Bella wakes up without her eyesight or memory and a voice in her head. Bella finds herself bound to the fragment of Lilith which was once Mr Scratch, this fragment has very little memory itself. Bella and the fragment investigate how and why they have ended up tied to one another find leads to Maries dead husband and through investigating him find the secret room in Maries house. Which in turn leads them to the farm. Bella ends up in a hospital after falling from the roof while escaping the insects. The fragment obtains a name but i dont think i want it to be Jane Doe. Edit: she is now called Echo! Upon waking up Bella and her newly named fragment return to the farm. From here they end up falling through the portal and into another plane of existence. I dont yet know where this would be but it would be similar to the dreamlands arc of malevolent. I dont know where Lilith lives in the mythos lore but its there.

Noel returns from his trip with no idea where Bella is. His only leads are a few sightings and police reports to go off before they disappear entirely. Distraught at the fact that even though he was being careful not to let the occult get involved he has still lost a friend to the eldritch. He re-joins the police force throwing himself into his work in order to try and distract his mind from the grief. He works on the cases no one else would be willing to try, the two biggest being trying to profile a serial killer known as the butcher and then trying to find information on Charon, the smuggling ring he is looking at in malevolent cannon. Only they arent connected to the order of the Fallen Star in this universe instead they have ties to a cult of Nyalathotep.

Bella ends up meeting Lilith in her own domain as well as Kayne who is extremely interested in who is annoying his daughter (thats his job). Kayne presents more feminine when interacting with Bella. Wearing a black dress instead of a suit (fem fatale Kayne for the win). Meaning due to her presentation Kayne is referred to with she/her pronouns. Pretty much everything else with Kayne is the same since its still exactly the same guy as malevolents Kayne.

I dont think i want Liliths interactions with Bella to be identical to the King in Yellow. I will need to do some more research into Lilith before i know what happens with them but somehow Bella and the fragment return to earth. Lilith while weakened is still a threat and a presence even once they are back to their own plane.

Now what about Arthur also in New York? I know i said this isnt about him but hes still here. Arthur upon running to New York finds himself doing reasonably well. He makes enough money through his composing and is able to make ends meet. He begins to hang out in bohemian circles again, and ends up gaining a patron who is willing to support his music. Arthur slowly ends up being indoctrinated into a cult. Specifically a cult to Nyalathotep. (It feels like a good time to admit the first bellaverse fic i read was an arkayne fic). Over the years Arthur ends up leading this cult, turns out his patron was infact Kayne messing with different universes and seeing how much he could corrupt this version of Arthur (he wasnt the reason Arthur ran, that part was all Arthur himself). This Arthur is actually the reason Kayne shows an interest in this universe. However, after meeting Bella Arthur becomes more of a hobby he has a vague disinterest in, used more as a way to pass the time than anything else since Bella is the more interesting one.

Arthur within this au acts as Larson does in malevolent. This is way for Bella to deal with her past as well as letting Bella punch him (at least). He is rather influential and has a lot of ties to different organisations despite rarely leaving his home north of New York except to go on tours (this version of Arthur used the cult to obtain fame as a musician).

If there is a situation similar to the order of the fallen star in episode 40 Kayne probably kills Arthur.

Kayne and Liliths relationship are a parallel to Bella and Daniels relationship. Yay for shitty father daughter dynamics. A lot more about Kayne and Lilith get to happen since they are the two main eldritch entities in this. The King in Yellow also lost a fragment of himself. I think that is actually with Larson but he is off doing his own thing, maybe he finds Noel at some point, who knows (aka i have only just thought about this).

Allright I think thats everything. If you made it this far i am kissing you on the forehead. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

Heres a drawing of Bella

Oh and if you have any ideas what to name this au or the fragment of Lilith please feel free to share them (i am so bad at naming things)

[crimeronan]

@meltedmercury jokingly saying princess AU luz is a covid puppy made me DESPERATELY need to go make a Separation Anxiety Compilation, so:

princess luz the covid puppy, with some bonus polyamory....

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and this one COULD be cut off after "this cannot be news to you," but i'm a Big Fan of whatever the fuck lumiter are doing here:

.....one of these days you three are gonna HAVE to DTR.

[ryuki-draws]

4: wears gloves for some reason Me: I cast nerve damage

[netmors]

your eleventh fleet concepts are just *chef's kiss* as brilliant as they can be

Thank you, littlekhada! Your art is also beautiful!

I will continue to develop the “Eleventh Fleet”. My drawings haven’t received such a response for a long time - it’s very motivating. Also noticed that your really liked Thrawn's design during his exile in Peridea. Well… I have an "attempt" to make concept art of a landscape of a distant planet. I wanted to make the Purgills' final refuge more… dead? ashen? atmospheric? Yes, that's probably exactly it.

[the-writing-mobster]

| FRANSWEEK Day 2 — Protective | Westfell AU | The Witch, The Judge & the 3 Card Gamble | ♣️♥️♠️ |

—

She couldn't believe it. He'd missed...

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.

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@fransweek

| Day 1 💖 | Day 2 ♠️ | Day 3 🫀 | Day 4 🔪 | Day 5 🫶🏻 | Day 6 💎 | Day 7 💋 |

[juliaswickcrs]

MULTIVERSE AU :: TESS BECK ( oc halloween challenge, day eight )

No Way Home but instead of Ned summoning the different Peters, he accidentally summons Emma Beck and Theresa Beck from their respective universes.

taglist: @bisexualterror @foxesandmagic @iron-parkr @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather

@arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @drbobbimorse @kingsmakers @noratilney

@stanshollaand @astarionbae @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse

@misshiraethsworld @asirensrage @eddiemunscns

@princessmadelines @impales @waterloou @thatmagickjuju

MARVEL TAGLIST: @notxjustxstories @themaradwrites

[relaxtimestwo]

Dan Heng Δ Witch Hat Atelier AU ⋆｡˚ ⋆

This is part of a Witch Hat Atelier AU concept I've been cooking up.

Hear me out!

The Astral Express is a moving atelier on rails run by the two witches Himeko and Welt and its watchful eye Pom-pom. The atelier has four apprentices- Dan Heng, March 7th and the twins, Stelle and Caelus.

The pointed cap and cloak designs are based on Pom-pom's outfit in-game, and also the "Welcome" profile pictures.

Hopefully I can develop this concept more when I have time next week!

edit- changed the "armband" colour to black for better contrast (it was bothering me but I couldn't understand why lol)

( ´ ▽ ` )ｏ♡ Witch hat atelier is one of my favourite manga of all time. Shirahama Kamome's artwork is god tier and the magic system and worldbuilding in it is so interesting! I highly recommend it!

➷ "Welcome" profile pic for Dan Heng in-game

➷ rough sketch for Dan Heng's full body design

[avirxy]

beauty and beast au but Claire’s the one cursed because she’s the only one I can see literally pissing a sorceress off enough to get cursed. (If we’re going off the original movie Jim would probably offer them a hot meal and a room for the night, knowing him he’d make everything super accommodating)

[fiannalover]

If I had a nickel for each time a long-running franchise decided to shake things up by introducing an academy setting they never really focused on before filled with competing political factions and a freshened up artstyle game that resulted in a Massive influx of new fans showing up or different (but converging) reasons, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Nightwing/icewing cherik au skit based off the that scene from the lion king

Dragonet reader: *pounces on icewing magneto* dad! DAD!

Nightwing Xavier: your child's awake

Icewing magneto: until that sun rises they're your child

*sunlight shines through the window*

Icewing magneto: three moons why me.....

Ahahaha! They get at least four dragonets!

You have dragonet David, who's more akin to Darkstalker, who has powers, and appears mostly NightWing, with sharper and more numerous spines and a few colder scales...

You have dragonet Wanda, also a bit like Darkstalker, but who appears as a mix of NightWing and IceWing, is super powerful, and prefers Mama/Papa Xavier (or Chary) over Mama/Papa Magneto (or Elk)...

You have dragonet Pietro, who appears like Whiteout but is mischievous, likes Mama/Papa Elk over Mama/Papa Chary, and appears more IceWing than NightWing...

And finally, you have dragonet Reader, who looks like Whiteout, is nicer than their siblings or Mama/Papa Elk, and has powers that are a bit more... unusual, or muted, compared to their siblings...

They make quite the f*cked-up little family, who are all p*ssed when Mama/Papa Chary is captured by IceWings, growing even more upset and m*ffed when Mama/Papa Elk is sealed away by the NightWing queen, and then the four siblings are slowly picked off one by one, locked away in ice or stone, until two thousand years later...

And all four are NOT HAPPY to be starving, giant, and miss their old friends, as well as their Mama/Papa, and are struggling to adjust to modern Pyrrhia...

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Headcanons on Kon in the Captain Marvel adopts Superboy AU

Kon is his universes Captain Marvel Junior, Freddy is called Lieutenant Marvel instead

Billy’s age isn’t known, only the Shazamily and Kon know. Plus Tim, Kon told him and Tim makes sure Batman doesn’t figure it out through sneaky sabotage

His jacket has embroidery saying “You’ve been” with Caps symbol on the back with a “Struck!” At the bottom (You’ve been thunderstruck) instead of “Don’t mess with the S”

Does have access to Captain Marvels powers if needed, he’s part of the family so he can call down the lightning, but doesn’t like to because it ages him up and he ends up looking just like Clark

If he is Shazam-ed up his leather jacket becomes double breasted with the thunder emblem taking up most the front and thunder bolts in a belt formation on his hips, other than that his suit stays entirely the same

Civilian name is Conner Elliot Ordway; Conner is obvious, the Elliot is a nod to the House of El, and Ordway is the maiden name of Billy’s mom. The initials spell out CEO which is a humorous nod to Lex. Billy wanted to make sure Kon had a name that honored his family history, as messed up as it is, while still giving his one that’s makes him part of his family and able to be his own person separate from them. Which is why he gave him the last name Ordway instead of Batson, so his identity is completely his own if he wants it to be.

(More under the cut)

Knows Billy is Captain Marvel but still sees him as a great father figure, one who cares about and loves him unconditionally and respects him while also actively trying to be present in his life

Billy models his treatment to Kon as a mix of how he remembers his own dad and doing the opposite of what Superman was doing, which leads to a very loving parent-child dynamic built on respected boundaries and lots of open affection to remind eachother they’re loved

Billy mainly sees Kon as a older brother, Kon sees Captain Marvel as a dad figure and Billy as a little brother when they spend more time together as civilians. It changes based on how long they spend together in one of Billy’s forms for the most part, but mainly Kon sees him as his dad (even if the differences in age are supposed to be odd)

Billy uses the “Pretending to be my own dad” trick with Captain Marvel to get Kon in a high school in Fawcett plus Tim’s stellar “I faked a whole uncle to avoid being adopted” abilities to fake the paperwork

Billy works at Whiz radio and uses Cap in civilian clothes working odd jobs to afford an apartment for the both of them, which is made a lot less expensive when Billy uses that “Powers of Shazam, summon before me (insert desired thing here)” spell he summoned a ping pong table with that one time to cover large furniture

Superman started giving Cap the silent treatment after he learned Conner has been all but legally adopted Kon

Mary is a cool aunt to Kon, both get along well and scrapbook together as a bonding activity

Freddy, understandably, freaks out and is all over Kon the first few months he’s part of the family. Asking about TTK, doing dumb stuff with their powers and arm wrestling to see whose power set is better, asking any and every question that comes to mind. Those two get in a lot of power based shenanigans and hang out a lot in and out of costume

The love language of the entire family is shared time and involves a ton of physical affection just because it’s good to remind people you love them with a hug, Kon is living his best life with all the love and validation he gets 24/7/365

Billy inadvertently catches up with and excels past his age groups study’s after learning what he can as Billy and trying to stay up to date with Kon’s school work to be the parent that can help their kid with homework and does

They go as eachother for Halloween one year, Kon takes a selfie and shows it to the rest of young justice forgetting they don’t know about Billy and when they ask he panics and says that’s his kid brother.

Which tumbles into Batman thinking Cap is CC Batson reincarnated with powers and trying to be a good dad and hero despite the whole death thing and Tim in the background trying not to laugh when he knows Bruce is wrong

(Stuff tied to comic canons)

Captain Marvel disappears for a solid 3 weeks after Kon dies, spending the whole time bouncing from afterlife to afterlife trying to look for him and asking the various death gods he comes across where Kon might have ended up. He doesn’t find him and has to grieve losing his family all over again

Covered every base he could think of looking for Kon’s soul, checked his family’s old faith, Hades because of the Greek ties, Kryptonian gods, a fist fight with Lady Blaze for information but couldn’t find anything. All he knows after that is that either Kon didn’t have a soul (which isn’t true and he refused to believe that), his ghost is roaming around and didn’t move on properly so he’s in a state of limbo, or he’s in some other afterlife and he has no idea what other ones to check for him in. Either way, Billy can’t find him and gets torn up that he lost some of his family all over again

The new 52 has Superboy Prime a prisoner held in the Monsterlands, a realm under the Council of Eternity’s (and Captain Marvel’s) control. Billy makes every day there a living hell for him for the next year until Kon is brought back, and after that all of Young Justice gets a free lifetime pass to pop by and beat him senseless for some Therapy™️. Tim and Cassie got a lot of hits in

When Kon does come back and gets back into the swing of his civilian life Billy worries a lot more and gets a little hover-y as a parent to Kon, Mary makes him earrings and small pieces of jewelry that has protection charms on them, and Freddy checks up on him between classes.

All in all, it’s a family of orphans all in various situations of oprhanhood being there for eachother no matter how weird life gets for them. Sometimes a family is your middle school aged dad, his best friend, his twin sister, a shape shifting talking tiger, and yourself

[crimeronan]

I can’t tell which scenario’s funnier: Amity reunites with Ghost and Hunter is immediately jealous of her having a palisman because HE would like a real palisman and is just quietly seething because if he speaks he’s going to sound like a giant baby going “I want one of those!!!” OR Grimwalker palistrom privileges mean that Ghost absolutely adores Hunter and Amity’s very indignant about it like “Oh okay I see how it is you run away from me but for THIS GUY—”

DJSJDJJ. por qué no los dos....

hunter is incredibly jealous the first day but then when he falls asleep later that night, he wakes up with ghost sitting on his neck, apparently trying to suffocate him. (luz is snuggled up sound asleep and being no help at all.) he spends some time trying to get ghost to leave in increasingly exasperated hissy ways, bc he doesn't want to wake luz by getting up to kick the cat out, & he's like wow never mind i don't need a palisman at all this thing is a pain <-lying. and then AMITY shows up at the door clearly panicked out of her mind bc she woke up without ghost there, & then she's like hey. Hey. Hey Hunter. I'll Kill You?

[dailykugisaki]

Day 172 | id in alt

Being silly.

[deconstructthesoup]

Okay, after watching several Who Framed Roger Rabbit reaction videos, clips from Dimension 20's Mentopolis, and rewatching Shipwrecked's The Case of the Gilded Lily, I believe I'm in the right headspace to do this, so let's get cracking:

In 1930s Hollywood, Priscilla Grey (Prisoner) and Skip Gallant (Skeptic) are private investigators who are trying to keep their business afloat, alongside their long-suffering secretary, Sienna Shade (Spectre). They've been working together ever since Skip took on Priscilla as a client and proved that she was being framed for a crime she didn't commit, and while they've been getting along so far, tensions are running high as business is starting to slowly dry up... until someone new walks into their office.

Dr. Percy Noble (Paranoid) is a biologist who's recently made a breakthrough in his research, but he's realized that it could lead to something incredibly dangerous, so he hid it away. He knows full well that by doing so, he's likely angered some very influential people, not to mention his boss, Jonathan Echo (Narrator). To make matters worse, he's been being followed for the past few days, and he has no idea who they are. Percy's got nowhere else to turn, and he needs the help of Grey & Gallant Investigations... and the story kicks off from there.

Priscilla and Skip's agency owes a lot of their previous notoriety to the fact that their respective twin siblings, Danielle Grey (Damsel) and Simon Gallant (Smitten), are famous movie stars and a Hollywood "It" couple... who are secretly in a lavender marriage. In reality, Simon's in an on-again, off-again relationship with Sienna's brother Colin (Cold), and Danielle's everything but legally married to Willow Chase (Witch), a singer at a club called the Swindler's Den.

The Swindler's Den is owned by a man named Oliver Teagues (Opportunist), who's got a lot of glitz and glam but is also a bit of a shady type, and doesn't do a lot for free. The only person he seems to trust is his faithful bouncer and business partner, Scully Boone (Stubborn). Scully's got a lot of rumors swirling around him about his past, though if you ask him about it, he'll punch your lights out.

There are two people out there who are both Priscilla and Skip's greatest allies and biggest obstacles---Sergeant Harry Knight (Hero), a cop who acts as their insider on the force yet is constantly worried about them getting in over their heads, and Conrad Tracy (Contrarian), a flashy reporter who always ends up writing brilliant news stories about their cases... though, he often winds up publishing stuff about the cases when they're in the middle of them, which is definitely a challenge when they need to be doing secret stuff. Harry's usually working alongside a sharp-eyed detective named Hunter Doyle (Hunted), who's well known for his impeccable survival instincts... and his jumpiness. Still, though, he's good at his job.

Over the course of their career, Priscilla and Skip have come across several criminals---some good intentioned, some bad intentioned. Among those are Stace Racket (Stranger), an art thief famous for their disguises and habit of only taking from other thieves; Chester Dunnagan (Cheated), a pickpocket who would probably be a lot more successful if it wasn't for his constant string of bad luck; and Addison Vernon (Adversary) and Zora Ray (Razor), the cutthroat ringleaders of a organization known as the Crimson Daggers and largely regarded as the power couple of the criminal underworld.

And on the flip side of things, Grey & Gallant Investigations has done several cases for the rich and wealthy, with varying results. Some of their most prolific have been Gary Quinn (Long Quiet) and Samantha Prince (Shifting Mound), who are the execs at Danielle and Simon's studio; Natalie Monroe (Nightmare) a flighty young socialite who makes a habit out of getting herself into increasingly dangerous scrapes for the thrill of it, and Titania Brightower (Tower), an old-money actress who demands power and respect from pretty much everybody. Titania's never seen without her pet cheetah Beatrice (Beast), and tailing after her is her constantly stressed and beaten-down husband, Benjamin Kells (Broken).

I still gotta figure out the story here... but I'll be damned if figuring out everything wasn't fun.