#which means i had to do some magic to make sure the shadows on her hands weren't pitch black

[robo-dino-puppy]

mark of pride

hfw face(paint)s 44/?

[fastandcarlos]

Daddy The Hero : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: unable to put your daughter to rest, you rely on logan to step in with the magic of dad to save the day

“Logan, are you free?” You called downstairs where you knew Logan was sat watching the next part of the series that you had been watching. Your frame leant against the wall, too tired to even stand upright anymore as cries continued to echo through the upstairs. 

“Babe?” Logan shouted back, pausing what he was watching before standing up from the sofa. 

You stayed where you were, hearing Logan’s footsteps walking through the house, relieved when you saw the shadow of his figure first before his body appearing at the bottom of the stairs, concerned eyes looking up at you. 

“Everything alright?” He questioned, already knowing the answer before he even asked his question. 

Your head shook as a dejected sigh escaped from you. “I feel like I’ve done everything I can to get her to go to sleep, but nothing’s working.” 

The frustration in your voice was clear for Logan as a sympathetic smile appeared on his face. You always offered to do the night routine whilst Logan relaxed after his busy days but tonight you were just about running on empty. 

“Can you come and see if you can do anything? Please. I’m at a loss,” you asked, relieved as Logan immediately made his way up the stairs, forgetting all about what he was watching before. 

If there was one thing you adored about your relationship with Logan it was how well you worked as a team, particularly after having your daughter too. When one of you was struggling, the other stepped in and made sure that you both felt well supported. 

“What’s going on?” Logan smiled as he followed you into your daughter’s bedroom, noticing her sat up with a wide grin on her face. 

“I’m going to go and tidy up the bathroom, give me a shout if you need me,” you told Logan, pressing a kiss against his cheek. 

He hummed in response, taking a seat beside your daughter’s bedroom. “I’m sure we’ll be alright; you take it easy for a while sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at how calm Logan’s voice was, if he needed to stay up all night with your daughter then he would, he’d do anything to make life easier for you. 

“What’s going on baby?” Logan asked, brushing his hand through her hair as her small frame turned so that she was facing him. “You know you should be asleep right now.” 

“I want to stay up with you and mummy,” your daughter argued. 

“You can’t,” Logan gently giggled, “mummy and daddy are grown-ups which means we get to stay up just a little bit later than you.” 

“It’s not fair,” she huffed, her sassy attitude beginning to show itself. 

Logan knew your daughter’s attitude was directly inherited from you. It was like dealing with a mini version of you sometimes with how well your daughter could outsmart him with her comebacks and jibes. 

“What about if I stay here with you until you fall asleep?” Logan offered, keen to get her to sleep as quickly as he could. “We can have some daddy and daughter time?” 

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she smiled. 

Logan nudged your daughter along her bed, making room for him to just about squeeze his tall frame into the bed with her. She immediately snuggled into Logan’s side, allowing his arm to wrap around her and pull her as close to him as he could. 

“How’s that?” Logan asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The giggle that came from her was all that Logan needed to know that your daughter was much happier now. Logan fell quiet, keeping his eyes on your daughter as he watched her eyes flutter shut, hopeful that was how they’d stay for the rest of the night. 

After finishing up in the bathroom, you crept into your daughter’s room to check in on how they were getting on. Logan’s eyes flickered across as soon as he saw you, giving you a thumbs up in the darkness of the room to let you know that she had finally fallen asleep. 

Slowly, Logan sat himself up, sliding your daughter down off of his arm. He thought he’d got away with it, but soon enough her eyes darted open and looked over in panic when she realised where Logan was going. 

“It’s alright, go back to sleep darling,” Logan whispered, feeling her grip tighten. 

“Don’t leave me daddy,” she groaned, kicking her legs against the mattress of her bed. 

“Come on sweetheart, it’s time for me and mummy to get some rest,” Logan tried his best to explain to her, but she was having none of it, digging her heels, and her hands in stubbornly. 

Logan’s eyes looked between you and your daughter, reminding himself of just how exhausted you were. You kept staring across at them as your daughter remained strong, refusing to let Logan go as he tried his best to carry on sliding away from her. 

“I’ll stay here for the night,” Logan told the two of you. 

“A-are you sure?” You asked him, drawn to the difference in size between Logan and the bed that your daughter slept in. “You’re going to do yourself an injury Lo.” 

His head shook, “I don’t mind, if it means you get a peaceful sleep for the night, then it’s worth it.” 

After a little bit more persuading, Logan encouraged you to head to bed, leaving him in with your daughter. She was beyond excited to have Logan stay, falling asleep almost in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the man who spent the night beside her. 

Before you even saw Logan the following morning you could hear his groans coming down the stairs. Every muscle seemed to ache from where he had squeezed himself in, unable to move out of fear of rolling either out of the bed or onto your daughter. 

Your teasing smile was wide as Logan appeared in the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa and stretching his body out for the first time in hours, full of relief. 

Your eyes kept watching him, unable to hold back your laugther. Logan shot a glare across at you as he sat himself up with a shake of his head. 

“Did you have a good sleep?” You jokingly quizzed. 

“Never again,” he huffed, running his hands over his face. “Next time I offer to sleep in her bed, please slap me across the face.” 

“Do you mean that?” You laughed, “because you know that I will take great delight in doing that.” 

“That was awful,” he complained, nodding in response. 

Despite how much it hurt, it was a relief for Logan to look across at you and see you full of energy again. The night’s sleep you had was exactly what you needed to feel like yourself once more, and although he’d suffered, Logan was pleased to see it. 

“I do appreciate you stepping in last night, I know how busy you are too,” you told him, your laughter turning into a wide smile. 

“We’re a team,” he reminded you, “I’m always going to step up and help, I’m her dad after all. Plus, I think I happen to be a pretty cool husband at the same time too.” 

Your eyes rolled as Logan smugly smiled back across at you. “Oh, trust me, you’re the best husband ever,” you assured. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[galedekarios]

gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.

[schoenpepper]

Isekai'd Chronicles 0

Intro: The prologue to your reincarnation adventures~

Warnings: otome games, bad writing, awful grammar, reader has a sister, proofread by quillbot, lots of mentions of death

A/N: The reader is kept as gender neutral as my brain could possibly allow. Also, I have different endings planned per route, and maybe (very small maybe because I'm not too comfortable with it) a couple of harem-ish routes. Anyways, enjoy.

Masterlist

You didn't like otome games, and certainly not harem ones. When your younger sister had begged, pleaded, and cried for you to join her in this weird, "innovative" two-player otome game, you had half a mind to just lock yourself in your room and ignore her. But you don't. Because some god probably has it out for you, divine intervention leads to your agreement, and the better half of Friday night and early Saturday morning is spent flirting with beautiful men on the 32-inch television screen in the living room. Summer vacation means neither of you get grounded for doing so, but there was certainly a healthy scolding waiting for you both come Saturday afternoon.

Fortunately for you unfortunately, the scolding never comes. As it is in every cheesy harem isekai manga, the next time you open your eyes, you're already in another world. Hooray! The same game that you and your sister spent hours on is now your reality. When you look into the mirror, you're even more surprised to find that staring back at you is a cute little bun with clear skin, gorgeous eyes, and beautifully silky hair. Aren't you happy you're super adorable now? Except, this is the face of the villain. That bratty, desperate, and pathetic duke's heir who was an obstacle in all 14 routes and the three different harem endings. It's okay. It's fine. If you never fall in love with the male leads, then you'll be safe!

Safe from falling to your death, getting poisoned, turned to sand, stabbed, drowned, sunk to the bottom of the ocean in a rickety little box, beaten to death, beheaded, hypnotized and made to kill yourself against your will, cursed to melt into toxic sludge, getting an arrow shot through your heart, burned alive, getting hanged in front of thousands of people, or being mauled to death by animals…

Make sure not to fall in love, okay?

The villain's endings—none of them end with you staying alive. So you steel yourself and look at the pudgy cutie pie in the mirror with renewed resolve. You'll live to the end! You'll study hard! You won't fall in love with any of the love interests! Ever! In any case, you are human, and most of the love interests are of other races from other lands, meaning you won't even be seeing their shadows for several years. Right now, you estimate that you should be about 3 or 4. The game starts when you and the main characters are 16 years old in the super-unexpected and never-been-done-before magic academy setting. You have at least a decade to shape yourself up and grind to an OP level; that way, if you still find yourself hunted by hot men, you can at least defend yourself. Hopefully. As a human duke's heir, however, there are two male leads you know from the start. They're also pudgy little cuties right now (all the love interests are at this point in time), but they're dangerous. Because you could fall in love, which is a big no-no. But since you were a teenager in your previous life, you wouldn't fall in love with 5-year-olds. Automatically, they're struck from your mind as "love interests." Still, you can't let the danger be on its own, so you decide to tell your parents that you no longer have any interest in your weekend tea parties at the palace (that the little villain had begged for). You can avoid them easily, and so you will. As a three-year-old, there's not much you can do for now, but one thing you can do is get a tutor to teach you the ins and outs of the universal language (convenient otome game logic). You busy yourself with studying the alphabetical and numerical systems and make a staunch decision to be a good duke's heir and, in time, a good duke ruling over the dukedom.

Fate decides to tear your plans apart little by little, pop the pieces into a blender and add some water to turn it into a paper-flavored smoothie.

[experimentfae]

Alastor x Wife! Sick! Reader

Fluff / oneshot

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

You believed that when you woke up that you be completely fine and healthy well sorry to disappoint but you’re the opposite of that, you’re sick and I mean very sick.

You woke up to feel you’re skin felt hot and dry And now you had a headache that really hurt you then called for alastor which woke your husband alastor up, you heard him groan out “what’s wrong my love?” He turns to his left side to look at you just one look at you he immediately knew something was wrong making him immediately get up.

“By the looks of it you a bad fever (y/n).” “I’m fine it’s just- just then you felt like you were to vomit, and you did “oh satan I’m- I’m “no need to apologize love.” He made the one of the shadows clean the vomit. he snapped his fingers and got magically dressed to go down to the kitchen. “No worry dear I’ll make sure you get better.” Without another word he left leaving you to feel the symptoms coming to you little by little.

Alastor’s pov:

I had to make sure (y/n) got better I hate seeing her in such a sick state especially since we won’t be able to do our usual married life activities. Such as cuddling or going to our favorite places.

Just then Charlie is in front of me “hey alastor have you seen (y/n)? I need her help.” “Unfortunately Charlie my wife fell into a terrible fever so she won’t be able to help you.” I stated just then Charlie face formed into concern “oh no can I help? She always helps around here so I should repay this way.”

This would be beneficial for (y/n) “all right I need you to get my (y/n) some fever remedy medicine, make sure it’s a Belphegor brand she makes the best medcine.” I handed Charlie some money “oh no alastor let me pay for it, like I said I wanted to pay her back.”

“Well… if you say so thank you Charlie.” She smiled “alright I’ll be back soon promise.” She immediately left which now lead me to go back to make the veggie soup.

(Y/n) pov:

You felt your body aching now and “damn it why do I still get sick, for duck sake I’m dead!”Just then alastor came through the door and he immediately came to your side

“dear I know you won’t like this but you have to let me feed you.” “Alastor I could feed myself.” You then tried to lift up your arm but due to the aching it was a struggle, alastor then smirked “hmm I don’t think so.” you just sighed “please just feed me.” He smiled wider “of course.”

After his feeding you, you went to laying in the bed with alastor’s help “oh dear I forget to- just then someone knocked “that must be Charlie.” This confused you he opened the door to see Charlie with a bag “here I got the medicine (y/n).” This made you smile “you got me medicine? thanks Charlie.” She smirked in return “yeah wanted to repay you for helping the hotel.”

She then handed you the medicine. The. Alastor’s tuned to you with his usual smile “I made sure got the best medicine for you love.” you smiled “thank you alastor.” just then you felt alastor kissed the top of you’re head “al, don’t do that what if you get sick?” “that’s a risk of willing take.” Alastor stated with a care.

“Um I’ll just leave.” Charlie interrupted and she walked out leaving you two, you then turned your attention to alastor again “that vegetable soup was delicious, can you make me a Crawfish étouffée tomorrow?” “Of course I haven’t had that in a while myself.”

You then took the medicine. “With that medicine you will be better in no time (y/n), you should rest.” “Yeah you’re right I’ll gonna take a nap.” As you quickly fell asleep you didn’t feel as alastor stroked your face. Gazing at you with so much love and care.

“Get well soon.”

<- Back to MasterList or back to hazbin hotel

[vamp1r3k1tty]

Can you do a Captain Hook romantic fic with some smut please 🙏🥺, with female reader

It starts off with the theme from “love ain’t it” and then it ends with the theme from “love is sweeter”

Thank you so much for the rec!!!

I’m a sucker for smut so ofc I can boo 😝

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Hook x Fem!reader

Summary: In which the real daughter of Mother Gothel finally gets taught how to love

Warnings: smut, neglect, mommy issues, swearing

Authors note: I decided to make this a mother gothel’s daughter ff because with the theme “love ain’t it” I thought she could be the neglected daughter of Gothel (like Cassandra from Tangled the Series) in which her mother never cared for the way she did Rapunzel. Thus being taught her whole life that love isn’t the answer. Hope you enjoy!!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

𝒮𝒽ℴ𝓌 ℳℯ ℋℴ𝓌 𝒯ℴ ℒℴ𝓋ℯ

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Mother Gothel. You probably know her from the tale of how she kidnapped Princess Rapunzel, locked her in a tower and used her magic hair for her own gluttonous actions. Blah blah blah, whatever, but what you don’t know is that she had another daughter. A daughter of her very own blood. And that daughter is me.

When the truth came out about how my mother was a criminal that kidnapped the royal baby of corona and locked her away her whole life, only exploiting her for the magical healing powers that her hair graced her with, people were appalled to say the least. The royal family got their happy ending when they all reunited once again. Their long lost daughter finally returning home after 17 years was a story to be told for centuries to come. They got their happy ending and the whole of Corona rejoiced.

But what about me?

When’s my happy ending?

My mother lived a double life, living in the tower with the daughter she always wished she would’ve been graced with, returning to me in the ‘home’ we shared with only the intentions to turn me into a monster like herself. To continue her legacy.

Which seems to have worked. Since here I am, Merlin’s academy, stalking in the shadows just like my mother always taught me to do. She said I didn’t need friends, because they made me weak. But what stuck with me the most, was that she told me I didn’t need love. “Love ain’t it” she used to preach everyday. I suppose it always stuck with me because deep down I knew, she didn’t love me the way a mother should love her child. She didn’t love me the way I deserved to be loved.

But now I understand that I never truly deserved to be loved because the daughter of a monster like her never gets the happy ending she so desperately wants. Don’t get me wrong, I would never want that happy ending now. Love makes me sick, that’s for sure, and that may be the only thing my so called mother ever truly taught me right. Love does make you weak. And love most definitely ain’t it.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Now when I told you I didn’t believe in love, I wasn’t lying, however that doesn’t mean I don’t like to get involved in other activities.

I quietly pull on my clothes and exit the dorm of the guy I’d just slept with. Only one round and he lasted two minutes. Two. Whole. Minutes. Then he proceeded to fall asleep with me laying beside him in shock. The second he nodded off and began snoring obnoxiously loud was the moment I knew I could make my escape.

I rolled my eyes and continued down the hall to the courtyard. It was currently around 1pm. My free period. And for some reason I decided to waste it on this good for nothing guy I don’t even know the name of.

I decided to walk around and people watch. I always found people fascinating, but I guess that was just because the only person I’ve ever known was my mother, and she’s dead and rotting. Maybe it was a good thing my mother never taught me how to love since that just made her death all the more easier. She ruined my life, kept me hidden in the dark, and after all her dirty deeds she’d commit, the karma that had been so rightfully coming her way hit her like a wrecking ball.

I clearly hadn’t hid myself well enough in the shadows as I was taught to since I bumped into someone, none other than the sea queen herself, Uliana, and her pathetic little posse. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Gothel.” She spat my name at me like it was worthless. Which I suppose it is.

The rest of her gang crowded around me and I could only roll my eyes at their attempts to intimidate me. “Uliana.” I retorted, half-assed. She cocked her head to the side and laughed, the rest of them joining in.

“Just came back from hooking up with one of your little boy toys, hm?”

“I did actually!” I replied with false enthusiasm. “But I guess you’ll never experience how good that actually feels.” I fake pout and her gaze hardened and the others let out wolf whistles and choruses of amusement.

“She got you there Uli!” Morgie, the weakest link of the group, chanted and laughed in her face, only fuelling her anger more.

“So, Princess.” None other than Hook himself began talking and strode over to me, arrogantly, then proceeded to get right up in my face til we were merely centimetres apart. “When you gonna come to my dorm next.” He plastered on a sickly sweet smirk and glided his ice-cold hook across my cheek. “I’d love to share this “experience” with you that you so gloat about.” He bit his lip and his eyes flickered down to my own, then back to my eyes again.

“Too bad you’ll never know.” I kissed my middle and ring fingers, then pressed them to his own lips as he raised his eyebrows at me, smirk never leaving his face. I walked backwards, making sure to hold eye contact with a smirk of my own until I finally swivel around and walk the way I came towards my alchemy class.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Sat at the back of the classroom with no partner beside me, as per usual, I didn’t expect anybody to join me. Until the seat that had been empty for months was finally pulled out. I payed no mind to it, just assumed whoever it was had picked the wrong seat and would soon realise that they were about to perch next to a death wish itself.

However, they made no attempts to move, so I decided to lift my head from my arm and glance beside me. Though I did not expect for said person to already be staring at me with curiosity of her own.

“Maleficent? Are you even in this class?”

“No, but Hook has taken quite a liking to you, and I must say, you somewhat intrigue me too.” I sat there and looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, then she rolled her eyes and continued talking. “He wants you to meet him at the water fountain after school is over. I suggest you go.” She then said nothing else and proceeded to stare at me for the rest of the lesson.

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After that weird encounter with Maleficent, I went back to my dorm and doodled in my notebook.

Living in neglect, I used to always write poetry as an outlet, a way to express my emotions without actually expressing them. Then I became somewhat of an emotionless freak and now I just write about the ways I want to feel.

I’ve had writers block for a while now, but maybe now that I’m being exposed from my place in the shadows, I’ll have something to write about. Eventually. Considering I’m still sat with nothing to write about.

I thought about meeting Hook after school, I really did. But I thought back to what my mother said and all those thoughts dissipated as soon as I had even thought about them. It was around an hour or so after school had finished, and no sign of Hook, which furthermore led me to assume that he never actually wanted to see me in the first place and Uliana and her goons just wanted to provoke me more than they’d already tried to.

Suddenly banging sounded on my door, waking me from the haze I was in, I begrudgingly got up from the comfort of my bed and opened it.

“Hook?”

“Hiya Gothel.”

My eyes widened and shot down to my attire, for I was wearing none other than my low rise pyjama pants and my boob tube top. I internally winced, knowing I didn’t look my very best. I knew I’d hear an earful from him and his clique if he were to tell them about it.

His own eyes widened and looked me up and down, then proceeded to giggle at me. I only looked at him in confusion. Somehow, he seemed to take my silence as an invitation considering he barged into my room and plopped down on my bed. I rolled my eyes and closed my door, opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off. “Oooh what’s this.” He picked up my notebook and began looking through it.

“Not for your eyes!” I lunged forward and jerked it out of his hands before he could get a word in.

“Alright lassie, I didn’t see anything.” He giggled again. “Why, is it your secret diary?” He taunted. “Do you write about all your little love affairs in there?” At this point he was cackling, so I shoved the book in my drawer and cut him off.

“What are you doing here, Hook?”

“Well I did get Mali to tell you to meet me at the water fountain, but clearly you didn’t get my message.”

“Message received, James. I just didn’t reply.”

“Oooh we’re going by first names now are we Y/N?” I crossed my arms and deadpanned at him. “Okay okay! I just wanted to see you, but I guess I received your message too.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

“Wait!” My arm shot out and grasped his own, which seemed to have been the reaction he wanted because he turned to face me with a cheek eating grin.

“Yes, my dear Y/N?”

“What did you want to see me for?” He walked towards me, my hand still on his arm, and got right up in my face like earlier on today. He smiled at me, and for a moment I almost thought it was genuine. Almost. Then he trailed his hook across my face again.

“Why do you think, Princess?” He asked me, rhetorically, and I knew this answer. At this point the coldness of his hook was sending tingles down my spine, and our close proximity was enough to make my knees weak.

“I don’t know James. Why don’t you tell me.”

He smirked and leaned forward “How about I show you?” He entrapped my lips in a bittersweet kiss. It started off slow, until it was clear what both of our intentions were. The kiss progressed quickly, considering I was pressed up against my door, hand on my neck and hook down the waistline of my pants.

Our tongues were clashing and it was clear as day who had dominance over the situation. In all my hookups, I was always the one taking control. But with James it was different. And I loved it.

I let out a whimper and he tugged me up, so he was carrying me, back still pressed firmly against the door. I pulled away for air for not even a millisecond, and James had already latched his lips onto my neck, leaving love marks all over.

He trudged me over to my bed and settled me on my back, looming over me seductively. I pushed him away and tore off his shirt hungrily, revealing his perfectly sculpted body. I bit my lip and closed my eyes in desperation. When I reopened them, James was gazing at me in awe. He took his hand and rubbed my cheek.

It felt different from before. He was looking at me with a sense of security. I felt safe in his arms. He leaned back down and kissed me again, this time much gently. For a moment I succumbed to the warm fuzzy feeling I had bubbling in my chest, before I realised what was happening and flipped him over onto his back.

He seemed surprised I’d taken control and let me work my wonders on him, letting out whimpers of his own. I pulled away and smirked at him, in which he proceeded to stare up at me with those beautiful doe eyes of his. “What’s the matter Jamesy? Cat got your tongue?” I was now grinning as he shut his eyes tightly, pushing himself further into the bed.

To say I was turned on would be an understatement. In fact, I was indubitably stimulated in all the sweet spots in my body. I was legitimately turned on with the most arousal I had ever felt in my life.

I ran my fingers through his hair before latching onto his soft strands and pulling myself into a hungry make out session once again. This time, he pushed me away and ripped my own shirt off.

Considering I was in my boob top- more specifically my lounge attire- I had decided to not wear a bra, much to Hooks pleasure considering he flipped me onto my back again and eagerly devoured my breasts.

I couldn’t help the moan that had escaped my lips and he kissed me recurrently, fondling my tits in his coarse palms.

I was desperate.

I wanted him.

I needed him.

Thus I pushed him off me, to his dismay and he looked at me in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak until I shushed him and took my pants off.

I prompted him to do the same, trailing my fingers down his torso and over his clothed phallus. This seemed to get a good reaction out of him as he threw his head back and whimpered once more. Quickly, he took off his own pants and before he got the chance to reside above me once more, I had already sat on his lap so I was straddling him.

I decided to grind my hips against his own as his dick only doubled in size, poking my own clothed pussy through his boxers.

We stared at each other in stupefaction and desperation for a moment. His eyes were the most beautiful sight I had ever gazed upon. I could get lost in them for centuries.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” I said, earnestly.

He chuckled. “I should be saying that to you, my dear Y/N.”

We smiled at each other and I proceeded to run my fingers through his hair again.

Then his smile fell.

“You don’t have to do this if you want to Y/N.” I looked at him in confusion. “I’ve been teasing you about it and said I wanted a shag, but if you’re not actually up for it then we don’t have to do anything. I really respect you, Y/N.”

I could only gawk in astonishment. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“It’s just that… none of the guys I’ve slept with have ever been so…” I trailed off, unable to find the right words.

“So… consensual?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yeah. But it’s fine!” I cut him off before he could say anything. “I do want to do this with you. I want to do everything with you.” We smiled at each other again. I leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Also, that was really sexy.” I giggled and kissed him again.

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I couldn’t tell you how long we had been in that same position, just making out, but eventually we had both fully stripped and he was looming over me.

A sweaty mess.

An insanely attractive, sweaty mess.

He was deep inside me, skin slapping skin and the only thing I could focus on was our chorus of moans. His chorus of moans. The way his eyes rolled back every time he pounded into me had me close to my climax.

If this man asked me to get on my hands and knees and beg for him, I literally would. No guilt in that at all.

I thrusted my hips up to meet his own, one of his hands rested on my tit, and the other wrapped so laboriously around my neck. I was so edged and I could say the exact same thing about him as he praised me with each stroke he hit.

“You feel so good Y/N oh my god” his grunts and moans felt like the biggest reward I could ever receive.

“I’m so close James.” I panted.

“Me too princess, me too.” The way he normally called me princess was all part of an act. Just an effort to taunt me. But the way he called me it right now had me under his spell.

As quick as those words left his mouth I had already come undone underneath him. I moaned his name so loud I was almost sure the whole of Corona could hear me, but this clearly untied the knot in his own stomach as he climaxed soon after me.

He stayed inside me for a few seconds to prolong our orgasms, still on top of me for a couple moments more, then pulled out and rolled beside me, tugging me onto his chest.

His hands stroked through my hair so precisely, each strand he touched managed to tickle my scalp and I found myself snuggling into his side.

He ogled down at me and I looked up at his gorgeous features. “What?”

“I’m just looking at your beautiful face, my dear Y/N. Am I not allowed to do that?” The way he looked at me gave me butterflies. His gaze made me feel like the only girl in the world. And if I was, I’d happily be his girl.

I let out a small chuckle before I realise what was happening. My eyes widened and I sat up quickly.

“What? What’s wrong?” He followed so that our eyes were level.

“No. No actually, you’re not allowed to do that.” I sprung on my bed and rushed to put my clothes on. “You should leave, Hook.”

“Wh- did I do something?” He mimicked my actions.

“You did more than just something.”

“I’m- I’m sorry Y/N. I really care about you, I don’t-”

“That’s the problem!” I snapped. “You shouldn’t care about me!” At this point, tears had welled up in my eyes and threatened to fall. But I wouldn’t allow them to. Not in front of him. I sighed and looked at them ground, my shoulders slumped and my arms fell by my side. “Nobody cares about me…”

“Is that what this is about? You’re insecure?” He asked sincerely.

“I’m more than just insecure Hook! I can’t do this cutesy-relationshipy stuff. I’ve never been loved. My mother always told me that love isn’t the answer. That’s how I’ve been brought up. I can’t show love because I don’t know how it feels…”

“Then let me show you.” He walked over to me, carefully as though to not trigger me again. To show me he truly cared. He latched his fingers under my chin and lifted my head to look at him.

Not his hook. His actual working hand.

That was my final straw as a tear managed to work its way out of my eye. “What?”

“Let me show you what it’s like to be loved. Let me love you, Y/N. I want to love you.”

He encapsulated me in a soft hug and I let myself melt in his touch. “I want to love you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Please show me how to love.”

And with that, he kissed me again. The sweetest kiss I had ever received.

For once in my fucked up, isolating life, I truly felt loved.

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A/N: Hope this was okay! I feel like this was so long 😭😭 I was fr writing for ages. But what my lovelies want, my lovelies get 🤭😝

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Getting answers out of Norris has proven quite challenging. Your disagreement with Azriel is weighting on you more than you thought it would.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5 ○ Part 7

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift his face to yours, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

[tanema123]

Hello this is a little thing I’ve been working on thanks to your Yandere post. Velvette is the Yandere.

"My sweet Carmilla, do not worry I will take you from this nightmare and truly make you mine." Velvette said, smiling from the shadows in Carmilla's closet.

————————————

"Thou art mine tonight, my angel..." He said while a mischievous grin was spreading on his face.

"What do you mean by that...?" Zestial's grin spread wider. He crushed his lips to Carmilla's. He was surprised when she was just as hungry as he was. He rolled over to place her on the bottom of him. God, she was so beautiful! He removed his lips from her mouth and began kissing her neck.

"Zestial!" She felt a sensation in her thighs. Zestial once more began to kiss her lips and his hands began roaming down her waist, feeling the curves of her body. Carmilla could feel him harden which made her blush. He removed his lips from her as he slowly began to pull down her black nightgown to her waist. He smiled at her and whispered "beautiful" before he pressed his lips on hers once more.

This was a night they would never forget...

————————————

Velvette heard screams coming from Carmilla. Was that bastard hurting her?! She moved through her hideout and peeked through the door where she could see that demon thrusting inside of Carmilla!

No! She must save her! Zestial claims to love her and then rape her? But, then she heard that the screams from Carmilla were more from pleasure than pain. "Zestial, deeper!" She heard her scream. God, did she actually want that monster inside her? No! He must have threatened her. She was her lover not that spider freak! No, she couldn't.

Carmilla was her’s and only her’s.

(Oh my god. I love it. Someone made a thing inspired by my post. *Happy tears*

It may take a while for the drawing to be done I mentioned I will do. I had a plan, and it got derailed....

Some stuff sneaked in. And I have some requests to do. But... I can offer you this instead)

Velvette doesn't know how to read

Velvette stormed off in the direction of the V tower. She was grumpling about Carmilla the whole way. She can't love that spider after all!

She is hers!

Her love!

Her woman!

As soon as she entered the tower, she passed Vox and Val making out in the middle of the living room, easily ignoring them and trotting to her humble abode.

Upon entering her room and slamming the door, she didn't stop. Instead she passed directly to the small side door.

The evil smile was evident as a light of day. She opened the door and turned the lights on, lighting up the area. She breathed in the smell.

The whole room was covered from head to toe, in pictures of one and only, Carmilla Carmine. They showed her every angle, every clothing piece, every hangout place and some were even in various states of undress.

Velvette indulged in them for only a bit... Before heading directly to the table. She opened a drawer, pulling out a doll.

"Finally, the thing I was working on will be done."

She grinned, excitement evident in her face. The doll she was holding looked exactly like Zestial. She hates that man, but it's necessary for it to work.

Velvette out the doll on the side for a bit. Taking the knife in her hand, she went to the middle of the room. She cut her hand, letting the blood drip, before drawing a circle combined with ruins.

As soon as her blood stopped she continued the plan, putting the doll in the middle. She smirked.

"And the last ingridient"

She pulled a long green silky thread from her pocket. Only one spider in the entire Hell has a thread like this. She tied it to the doll, before stepping back.

"I can curse him. Carmilla will surely be mine now!"

Velvette started chanting in a demonic tongue. The circle glowing a sickly red colour, proving it's doing some sort of magic. As Velvette finished the last words, the glow dispersed in an instant, as the thread became crimson.

Velvette started laughing manically.

"Haha...Haha... muahahhahahahahsh.

It worked! Now surely she will be mine!"

....

The next overlord meeting, 4 weeks later, she turned up late like usual. She got places to be after all. But what she didn't expect was to Zestial actually be present. And for Carmilla not to.

What is going on?!

"Where is the old hag"

Zestial groaned in annoyance as she entered.

"She will come shortly... She has an announcement to make."

Velvette was confused. Carmilla was never late, and now Zestial says she has some sort of announcement.

What the fuck did her spell do if it didn't kill him!

Right then, Carmilla Carmine herself entered. She looked normal as per usual. A bit more tired, but that's normal for her. She stood in front of the table barely giving them all a nod in a greeting. Barely acknowledging her. Velvette is getting angry. Why hasn't she said anything to her!

Carmilla coughed once to get their attention. She looked nervous.

"Before we start a meeting I have an announcement to make... I will be leaving the position for a bit and Zestial is taking over till I return."

Why the heck is she leaving! What the heck is going on! Velvette was in disbelief.

"What do you mean you are leaving?! What kind of reason would make Carmilla fucking Carmine leave for "a bit". You are the biggest workaholic we know"

That sentence brought all eyes onto Carmilla. She shifted in her place. Zestial is staring at her... Is he giving her some sort of go ahead to talk?! What kind of bullshit are they hiding?!

Carmilla finally spoke.

"I guess... I should say... It will avoid any problems in the future. It appears someone did a spell a while back around 4 weeks ago. We can't really track it as the spell was done so long ago and I haven't had the symptoms for a while."

Velvette's eyes widened. She did the spell, but Carmilla wasn't supposed to feel the symptoms. What is going on?!!?Did Velvette mess up?!?! She couldn't, she used Zestial's tread!

Rosie was instantly worried. And asked the question they were wondering.

"We can see you are not worried about dying Carms, otherwise you wouldn't be saying it like this. But there are no obvious sights that you are sick in any way. So what is going on?"

Carmilla breathed in, before smiling softly and putting a hand on her stomach.

"It seems it was some sort of fertility spell as currently I'm pregnant."

....

Velvette's mind: Fuck.

AND THAT'S HOW PEOPLE VELVETTE ACCIDENTALLY HELPED THEM WHILE READING FROM A WRONG PAGE.

I'm so glad you wrote this mysterious person. I hope you like my little add-on. 83

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah

An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"

I recommend you listen to About You while reading this

Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)

Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."

I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab

Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)

Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.

This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.

on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)

Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.

When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean

Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow

But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.

OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.

The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love

The Season by @missgryffin

This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."

I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).

A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)

A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."

My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."

chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)

foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)

answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.

The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA

An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.

A classic that everyone should read

Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."

One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away

Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction

Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.

Trackside by @hogwartslivy

James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.

When my two obsessions meet

it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee

A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.

Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus

Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)

Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."

Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.

See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)

Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.

Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood

Nom De Plume by @annabtg

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

(Rated E for later chapters)

Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it

victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)

(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."

Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo

Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor

Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."

some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux

Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.

Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."

Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily

The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together

Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97

The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?

Lily and Remus are me

and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders

“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”

Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.

What the summery said

The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.

The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting

Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)

Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.

Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)

Jump (For My Love)

Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.

Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.

The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).

The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it

A Game Of Thrones

Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?

Euphemia Potter you will always be famous

flowers

A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."

Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for

If You Knew Who Was Talking

hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.

In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.

If only they knew who was talking.

FOOLS the both of them.

glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya

For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.

everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill

Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."

Is this not the dream?

fastening myself to you with a stitch

Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."

it's all happening without me

Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.

A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.

Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."

Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions

It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -

Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful

When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.

So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.

Or so she very dearly hopes…

Tonight Feels Impossible

But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.

To All The Kudos I've Left Before

Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.

James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.

What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."

The title says it all ❤ ❤❤

[thewritetofreespeech]

Halsin x Reader

words: 1.2K

rating: G

pairing: Halsin x Reader/Tav (post-epilogue)

-----------------------------------🐻-------------------------------------

When Halsin took on the duty of reforming the Shadow Lands and taking care of the refugees there, he didn’t realize how much work it would be.

He was not shy of hard work. Halsin loved it. He felt useless for the first time in centuries. However, taking care of so many children, along with helping Thaniel resort balance to the blighted nature around the land, was draining.

“Are you alright master Halsin?”

The druid turned to see one of his old charges there, Willow. A sweet girl. Shy as a rabbit from what he remembered from his time in the grove, but still brave enough to leave it when her heart felt the call to help those in need. She had arrived from the Grove a few months after his own return from meeting friends. Wanting to help. Halsin had been delighted. Selfishly hoping that perhaps some of his efforts as Archdruid had rubbed off on her.

“Yes, I’m fine Willow. And you don’t need to call me ‘master Halsin’ anymore. As I’ve mentioned, Halsin is fine.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Old habits.” The girl bashfully fiddled with her hair and shuffled her feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked tired.”

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want to look the part, now, would we?” Halsin teased. To which Willow bashfully stammered more, and he laughed. “Don’t worry. I appreciate the concern. I am a little tired if I’m being honest. Nothing a goodnight’s sleep won’t cure.”

“You do so much to take care of us mast—I mean, Halsin. Someone should take care of you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He replied. Perhaps missing the true meaning of her words. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Most days. And, I do have someone to help take care of me.”

Since the meeting with their friends, Halsin was delighted to have [Y/N] back by his side. Their time apart had been brief for an elf, yet it felt like the longest time in his existence. He was over the moon when they agreed to come back here with him, now that things were settled; here and in the Gate. Their presence, their compassion, their desire to help this place as well, was a light that this place desperately needed still. And, he had come to realize, he did too.

Halsin said his goodnights to Willow and returned to the small home he had built, which now housed him and [Y/N]. Where once he would have spent his life in tents, or even simpler under the stars, more and more these days he was growing fond of these walls. A phase, he assumed.

"Not making any progress with her?" [Y/N] asked when he arrived at their door. Their ‘town’ was very small. The center of which you could see clearly from one end to the other from your own front door. Which was what [Y/N] was doing with their evening cup of tea.

"What?" Halsin looked confused. Then realized what they must be talking about. "Oh, Willow? She is very clever, but I fear it will take her some time before understanding the basics of her medicine and magic. Progress is a process."

[Y/N] chuckled. "No, I mean progress. You know she's into you, right?"

Halsin was for once surprised. He supposed, deep down, he knew of their attraction to him. He was usually very good at uncovering the desires of others. But with Willow he had been.... blinded to her advances. "Honestly no. I hadn't noticed."

It was [Y/N]’s turn to be surprised it seemed, as they pondered his comment and sipped their tea. “Oh. I’m surprised. I thought you would have jumped on that in a moment. Literally.”

Halsin frowned a little at [Y/N]. “I don’t ‘jump’ on anything.” True, he was open to all experiences that nature had to offer, but he thought he was a little more discerning than that. “Besides, when would I have time? Between the children, the lands, what little spare time I have is spent with you or in bed.”

“Or both.” He had to chuckle at that. When oh when would he develop the skill for not putting his foot in his mouth. Maybe in his next quarter century. “But, you know I don’t mind if you pursue something with her. You’re welcome to explore….whatever path you’d like. With whomever you’d like.”

Halsin was taken aback. Was that how he sounded when he brought this up to his lovers? “And you would really be comfortable with that?”

“You told me when we initially got together that you weren’t someone for monogamy.” They reminded him. “I didn’t assume that changed, or our relationship changed while we were apart. If you want to spend an evening with someone, I understand.”

That had all been true. When he met them, he had been very clear that monogamy wasn’t for him. He had told them that he kept to nature’s way. To roam. To find root and purchase in whatever bed he might find like the dandelion seed on the wind. So why hadn’t he done that?

At first Halsin thought that it was because he was so focused on his new cause. As he also mentioned to them when they met, he could get consumed with something and rarely come up for air. Plus, the children were his top priority. It wouldn’t be fair to have a partner when his full attention couldn’t be on them.

But, the more he thought about it in this moment, Halsin realized that he, for once, simply hadn’t been interested.

In the few moments alone, when his thoughts drifted to desire, he thought of [Y/N] and nothing else. Their face was what he thought of when he took hold of his own needs. Their sweet words. Memories of their body. Now that they were back in the flesh, his eye had wondered even less further. The thought of spending an evening with the willowy Willow didn’t disgust him, but he also didn’t feel desire for it.

Halsin suddenly realized, to his own shock, that he had almost completely shifted from the roaming bear to the wolf. Complete with his own cave, and pack, and mate. He had been…domesticated.

“I…don’t think so.” Halsin finally answered [Y/N]. “At least, not at this time. I would rather stay home with you tonight. If that’s alright?”

[Y/N] smiled at him. Then walked inside with what remained of their tea. “I didn’t come all this way to sit at home alone. Again, not that I would mind for an evening. But, you know.”

Halsin thought he did.

Though he couldn’t say he understood a lot of things going on in the moment, what he did understand is that he wanted to be with [Y/N]. To be only with them for what time they were allowed. To let himself be domesticated.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A Four Part Miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy stood in Steve's living room watching Eddie. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table pouring over his spellbook, his tongue poking out.

"You know, I have perfectly good couches," Steve said, crossing his arms, and Eddie hummed without looking at him. "He's lucky he's so cute."

"Okay. . .okay, it sounds like this spell is going to be difficult, especially with all of us, and it says I need to be. . .stronger for this. Fuck, I have to be a certain level? Well, what fucking level am I?" Eddie asked. "And how do I gain experience? More spells? You know, whoever wrote this book should have had this damn thing coded. You know, write in the margins which ones are for beginners."

"Well, considering the few spells that you have done, I think you're very much still a beginner," Robin said.

"If this is too much, we can wait. . .save up money. . . Buy plane tickets," Steve said.

"Baby, we're going to see this through, and your mother's waited long enough. . .you're worth it, Steve Harrington. . .now, shut up, I'm thinking," Eddie said.

"Oh, oh! I think I remember your father mentioning something about using magical creatures like conduits," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, no, I'm not using either one of you like that. And if my father suggested it, then I'm definitely not going to do it," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, what if we want to do it?" Steve asked.

"I can do the spell myself," he replied.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean you should," he said.

"How in the hell is this relationship supposed to work if we're both equally stubborn?" Eddie asked with a scowl.

"Well, if we're both determined enough, we'll make it work," Steve replied.

"Eddie, it sounds like we both want to do this," Chrissy said softly.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Very," Chrissy said, and Nancy smiled. "I want to do everything that I can to help Steve find his mom or dad. Not just because we're both fae but because it's the right thing to do."

"Thanks, Chrissy," Steve said softly and then paused. "Wait, what do you mean, mom or dad? My dad's dead, remember?"

"Oh. Did I not mention?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"Mention what?" He asked.

"Fae can have children with anyone regardless of their gender. I had two mothers," Chrissy replied. "And some fae are what they themselves call genderfluid. . .depending on what they feel like. So, this person could be your mother, father, or both. Being transgender and queer is also more commonly accepted amongst fae. It's because of their beliefs that the fae had to remain hidden in the shadows, hiding with their illusion and glamor magic. They would come out of the shadows to help lost humans, whether they be fae, humans, or Wiccans, especially if they're children and rejected by their community because of who they love."

"Wow," Steve breathed. "Okay, so you know a lot more than I do."

"Do the fae have like their own city or country I could move to?" Robin asked.

"I don't know. If they do, it's probably hidden," Chrissy said. "There wasn't much in my mother's journal."

"Okay, let's do this shit. . .let's go find this Steve’s mommy or daddy. . .even more so now. Although, I suddenly realized that I'm going to be meeting my boyfriend's parent for the first time, and I hadn't even taken him on a date yet," Eddie said.

"And I just found out that my girlfriend neglected to tell me that she could get me pregnant," Nancy said.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! It slipped my mind. . .I was going to tell you, and then this happened," Chrissy said, looking guilty. "And besides, we can only get each other pregnant if we both wanted to. . .no accidents!"

"I figured you were going to say something like that when Mike barged into the house," Nancy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm messing with you, baby."

"I can get Steve pregnant!" Eddie yelped.

"Down boy, buy me dinner first," Steve said dryly.

"Okay, let's get to Lenora Hills before I get completely distracted," Eddie said. "Nancy, focus, and then we can study fae anatomy later. . ."

"I'm so getting a better grade than you," Nancy smirked, and Chrissy giggled.

"Fuck off, Wheeler!"

Lenora Hills, California. . .

"Fuck!" Eddie screamed.

He dropped Steve and Chrissy's hands immediately as he fell to his knees. Eddie bent over and began to make retching sounds. Steve pulled his hair back just as he vomited. He wiped Eddie's face with a tissue Chrissy gave him and helped him stand up. Eddie's whole body shuddered, and Steve wrapped his arms around him to hold him up. Steve watched as the other man's eyes turned purple.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Is anyone else hearing music?" Eddie asked as blood gushed from his nose. "Did I just gain another level? Hmm, maybe it's something I ate."

Eddie's fading purple eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed into Steve’s arms. Steve picked him and held him close.

"I don't want to be a bummer, but I think Eddie missed by a few blocks," Robin said.

"Well, it was his first time performing the spell," Steve said. "Let's go."

They finally found the house they were looking for, and when they did, they discovered that the front door had been left wide open. Someone had clearly left in a hurry. When they entered, they found it in a stay of disarray, like someone had packed quickly. It was similar to the one in Indianapolis, except the furniture had been left behind. Drawers were opened and emptied. . .papers and takeout menus were littering the floor. Someone had clearly lived here a while, but it looked as though someone had left recently. Steve hurried to lay Eddie on the couch for a moment. He cleaned his face and listened closely to make sure he was just sleeping. He was.

"Is he okay?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, just sleeping. That spell took a lot out of him," Steve replied. "Let him sleep, and we can look around. Maybe whoever left here is going to come back."

Of course, they searched the house for hours and came up with nothing. Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy let Eddie have the bedroom in the back, considering he drained his batteries getting them all to California. He laid Eddie on the bed and sprawled out next to him. He watched the man snore loudly before flopping onto his stomach. Steve ran his hand over his back, smiling when Eddie sighed in his sleep. He laid down on the pillow, wondering if his parent had laid their head on this very pillow. Steve closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Steve was dreaming. He was sure of it. He felt smaller than usual, and he was lying in a . . . Cage? No, a crib. He was a baby, and he was looking up at his mobile made of stars. A face appeared above him. It was a younger, fresher faced Bob Newby. He had hazel eyes just like Steve.

"He's made of stars just like you," Bob said proudly.

"Freckles and moles, my love," a garble voice said.

"Stars, stars to guide his way back to us," Bob said softly.

"He's not going to be like the others, I won't allow it," the voice said.

"There's more of them than there are of us," Bob said sadly. "It's happening more and more lately."

"Bobby. . ."

Wait, was his other parent British? Steve tried to reach for them as they moved closer to the crib.

"I'm right here," Steve tried to call out. "I'm right here!"

When he woke up, Eddie was staring at him.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" Steve asked as he immediately sat up.

"A little, but I don't think I'm at full power yet," Eddie said. "I'm fucking hungry."

"Yeah, okay, we get out of here, and we can find something to eat," Steve said.

"Just a moment," Eddie yawned.

He pulled Steve closer to him and nuzzled his neck. Eddie pressed his lips there, peppering his soft skin with tiny kisses. Steve sighed for a moment and leaned into it. He rolled over onto his side to face Eddie.

"Why are you going through all this trouble? I mean, I know you care about me, but we barely started whatever this is, and you're nearly killing yourself to help me," he said.

"I don't know. . .I mean, I guess it's because of the assumptions I made about you but also because I would give anything. . .chase any lead that gives me any hope that my mama's alive and looking for me. She's not, though. She's been dead for a long time. I can't do it for myself, but I can do it for you," Eddie replied.

Steve wrapped his arm around him, pulled him closer, and kissed him deeply. He poured every ounce of affection he had for the man into that kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against his.

"Come on, let's see what the girls are up to," Steve said.

They wandered into the kitchen to find Nancy, Chrissy, and Robin leaning over a phone book.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed. "How are you doing?"

"Better once I get some food in me," Eddie said.

"Well, we were actually going to order something. I was thinking pizza. Laura never lets me have any," Chrissy said.

"Pizza sounds fucking awesome," Eddie exclaimed.

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, they sat in the living room to discuss their options. Eddie still needed to recharge and get some food in him before doing any sort of spells. In the meantime, they wait it out here and see if the person comes back. Steve was trying not to get his hopes up, but the closer they got to find his parent, the more hopeful he got. Robin leaned over the arm rest of the couch. Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie were talking amongst themselves.

"You doing okay?" Robin asked.

"Trying to keep it all in, you know?" Steve said and paused. "I had a dream about my dad, about Bob. I think it was a memory. I couldn't see my other parent, but I know they were British, and Bob said I was made of stars like them. They have moles like me. . .what else did I get from them? Will I ever see them again? Do they know what happened to Bob?"

"I'm sure that you'll find your way back to each other," Robin said.

"That's what Dad said. . .that my stars would guide my way back to them," Steve said. "It was happening to so many fae children. . . They knew it was going to happen to them."

"You're going to find each other," Robin said softly.

Before Steve could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Nancy went to answer it but paused when they heard arguing coming from the other side. Steve shared a look with Nancy.

"Is that Jonathan?" Steve asked.

"I didn't even think about it," Nancy laughed quietly. "I ordered from Surfer Boy."

"Argyle! What are the odds that my ex-girlfriend is here in Lenora Hills while my current boyfriend is the one delivering her pizzas?" they heard Jonathan yell. "It is not the same Nancy Wheeler. She's still in Hawkins."

"Man, fate has a funny way of bringing people together!" Argyle laughed loudly.

Nancy covered her giggle with her hand and went to answer the door, but Chrissy stopped her. Chrissy pulled the front door open and grinned.

"Hi, I'm Nancy Wheeler," she laughed.

"Oh, shit, man, you were right," Argyle said.

"No. . .that's Chrissy Cunningham. She goes to Hawkins High," Jonathan said.

"Oh, what are the odds?" He asked, and Jonathan elbowed him in the side.

Nancy nudged Chrissy out of the way and appeared in the doorway.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

"Hey, Jonathan," Nancy said meekly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"It's a long story," Nancy said. "And I'll tell you later, I promise."

Jonathan looked at her doubtfully and then looked at Argyle before sighing. He knew that something strange was up, but he couldn't say it in front of Argyle. He accepted their tip and dragged Argyle back to the yellow van, leaving them with their pizzas. Once they ate, Eddie took a nap, and when he awoke again, he started to work on doing the location spell again. Eddie looked down at the paper and made a disgruntled sound with his mouth.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It says Hawkins, but it doesn't give me an address. . .just a bunch of random letters and numbers. It's like someone doesn't want us to know. . .hm, maybe there's a spell preventing us from knowing," Eddie said.

"Well, people place runes on the fae children to prevent the parents from finding them. Maybe they put runes on their houses too," Chrissy said.

"Shit, maybe it's my house or rather the Harringtons," Steve scoffed.

"Well, the only thing left to do is to check it out," Eddie said. "I'll start preparing the spell to travel back to Hawkins."

"Eddie, are you sure you're well enough for that?" Steve asked.

Eddie smiled. He cupped Steve’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his lips before he leaned his forehead against his.

"I'm fine, big boy."

Once they were in Hawkins, Eddie once again vomited and collapsed. They were just outside of Steve’s house. Steve picked him up and carried him into the house. Eddie's eyes fluttered open, and he groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "You should be resting."

"I don't want to miss this," Eddie said sleepily, wiping the blood from under his nose.

Before Steve could say anything else, they heard a figure coming from upstairs. Everyone downstairs tensed up, preparing for a fight. A woman entered the room. Her hair was long and carmel colored with warm golden highlights like Steve’s with moles scattered across her tan skin. She had Steve’s nose and his lips, but her eyes were a bright blue. Her flowered colored dress was as blue as her eyes.

"You're my mom," Steve gasped.

"Today, anyway," she smiled Steve’s smile.

Steve ran into her arms without even thinking. She hugged him tightly, sobbing. This felt right. . .her hug held more warmth than the hugs he received from the Harringtons, theirs being nothing more than cold detachment. His mother's hug felt like home. He could feel her now, too, in the back of his mind. There were so many emotions going through his head, and there was one question that was on his forefront of his mind. He pulled back, tears in his eyes.

"I don't even know your name," Steve said.

"Farran Kelley," she laughed, tears in her own eyes, and she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh, you have your father's eyes."

"Yours too," Steve grinned as he felt his eyes glow green.

Farran laughed as her eyes glowed green as well.

"Your father was a fairy too, you know," she chuckled, and her smile dropped. "He should be here. . ."

"I'm sorry. . .I was there. . . I mean, I didn't watch him die, but I was in the middle of all of it," Steve frowned.

"Well, we warned the humans for years about meddling with that world. . .if I had known you were in the middle of all of it. . .I missed so much," Farran said sadly. "You're so grown."

"There's so much left to teach me. I still don't know everything there is to know about being a fairy," Steve said.

"Oh, so many wonderful things," Farran said and cupped his face. "My sweet boy. . .however, did you get that rune removed?"

"That was me!" Eddie exclaimed, waving from his spot on the couch.

Farran peered around Steve with a grin. Steve moved beside Eddie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mom, this is - "

"Eddie, my God, you've grown so much!" Farran said delightfully. "I haven't seen you since you were an ankle biter."

"You know me!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I was mates with your mum," Farran said.

"You were at her funeral!" He realized. "If you were friends with my mom, then why would my dad. . .I know he's an asshole. . ."

"So, you figured out that he was the one who kidnapped my son?" She asked.

"Well, I had to remove the rune that was on his back, and I had to be blood related, so. . .and kidnapping fae children is the kind of shit my dad would do," Eddie scowled.

He sat all the way up, and Farran sat down next to him.

"Your father loved your mother very much. She was the only person in the world who could make him cut all his bullshit but even though he loved her. . .he still didn't treat her very well. He left her all the time, and I was there for her when she had all those miscarriages. She had complications when she gave birth to you, and after that, it was harder to get pregnant. I did what I could being a fae healer, but not even magic has the answers to everything. It's something your father could never understand. Lizzie and I became close when she got to town. I was there when Al refused to be. That's what really drove him mad. He couldn't forgive himself for it. When I became pregnant, Lizzie became so excited. She hoped our children would be friends. A few months after we had you, Steve was taken from us. I didn't believe it at the time that Al had anything to do with, but his jealousy had been too obvious over the years. He always thought there was something between Lizzie and I, but she had become enamored with someone else. Even though Bobby and I split up, my heart always belonged to him," Farran said.

"My father's a dick," Eddie spat, and then his furious face fell. "Is there anything redeemable about my dad?"

"There's a part of me that still hopes that his love for Lizzie, for you, and Wayne will wake him up, but the rational part of me knows that will probably never happen. You know that you look like him, but I always knew that you got your heart from your mother even when you were a child," Farran said. "It's not wrong to hope that your father might do the right thing by you or the right thing, period."

"It's a small world, isn't it? You were best friends with my mother, and now I'm dating your son," Eddie laughed, and then he slapped a hand over his mouth. "I've gotten a little too comfortable."

"It's alright," Steve grinned.

"Oh! That's wonderful," Farran gasped. "Oh, Lizzie would be so happy!"

"Don't get too excited, mom. It's only been - wait, what day is it?" Steve asked and paused. "Eddie's only recently found out he's a witch, but he's the reason we found each other at all. He's exhausted himself so much to do it."

"Definitely Elizabeth's son," Farran said fondly. "Oh, sweetheart, you look exhausted. We should probably get back to my house. Steve, we should probably get you back to our house."

"We have a house?" Steve asked.

"Well, your father's family home. It's nestled out in the woods," Farran said. "You and your friends are more than welcome to come with us."

"OH! Mom, these are my friends. Well, Nancy's my ex-girlfriend, but now she's one of my best friends," Steve said, and Nancy smiled softly at him. "This is Chrissy. She's also a kidnapped fae child."

"If you don't mind, how did you know Steve’s name?" Nancy asked. "Didn't he have a different one?"

"No, Steve is the name we gave him. It was my father's. I guess the Harringtons were too lazy to change it," she replied, scowling.

"Oh! And this is my best friend in the whole world, my platonic soulmate, Robin Buckley," Steve grinned.

"Hi, Steve’s mom!" Robin exclaimed, hitting his chest. "I told you would find each other, dingus!"

Farran laughed and hugged her tightly.

"So, we're going to your house then?" Eddie asked.

"Steve, is there anything that you want to bring?" Farran asked.

"Oh, I've been wanting to leave for a while now. What I need is already packed," Steve grinned and ran up the stairs.

He came back downstairs with his hands carrying two large suitcases. He had the largest grin on his face. Farran helped Eddie up while Chrissy did the same on his other side as Farran promised Chrissy that she would teach her all about being a fae.

"How are we getting there?" Eddie asked.

"By car," Farran said. "Why? Did you think I had a carriage being pulled by unicorns?"

"Well, now I don't," Eddie scoffed, looking disappointed.

"Unicorns live in Scotland," Farran replied with a laugh. "And are a protected species."

"They're real," Eddie gasped with delight.

Steve laughed as he followed them to the front door. He walked out the front door with them, leaving the name Harrington behind. The name Newby-Kelley slid back into place. He was going home.

Months later. . .After the spring break from hell. . .

Steve stumbled through the trees, clutching his sides. Despite all the medicines Farran used on his son, the bites still hurt.

"It's just up ahead," Steve said.

"So, why did you move?" Hopper asked.

"It's my family home," Steve said.

"Figures John Harrington has more than one home in Hawkins," Hopper snorted.

"John Harrington isn't my father," he sighed. "He never was. Him and his wife hired someone to kidnap me. This is my real family home."

"Jesus," Joyce said.

"It's okay. I found my parents. I mean, my father is dead, but my other father, who is also sometimes my mother, is very much alive and is waiting for us," Steve said.

"I'm lost," Hopper said.

"No, it's just up ahead," he replied.

"That's not what I - "

It was a spacious four bedroom cottage type house in the woods with a stone pathway leading up the front door. Vines covered the house, sealing over every opening as though they were protecting it. There were vines sprouting around the house like a bubble as well. Steve approached the vines, and his eyes glowed green. The vines moved to create a doorway for them.

"What the hell?" Jonathan asked. "Hey, does this have anything to do with you guys being in Lenora a few months ago?"

"You were in Lenora?" Joyce asked.

"We were tracking down my father," Steve said. "We had to come back to Hawkins, though, because he had been tracking me too and tracked my last location to the Harringtons. He was my mother then."

"I'm lost again," Hopper said.

"Man, we're here," Steve said. "How are you getting lost? You're right behind me."

Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Joyce laughed and patted his arm.

"I think he doesn't understand about your parent being both your mother and your father," Joyce said.

"Oh! Some faes can change their gender if they wish. Today, Farran Kelley is a man," Steve said. "He's been my father the last few weeks."

"Faes. . .as in fairies?" Will asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm not human," Steve grinned. "Let's get inside, and we can talk about this."

They went inside the brick house where they were led into an open space living room and kitchen. On the other end of the house was a fireplace where a cool, blue fire crackled. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were stuffed with books. Pictures hung on the walls very neatly. Sitting on the couch in front of the fire was Nancy. Robin and Vickie sat on either side of her, rubbing her back as she cried. Steve felt his chest tighten painfully. Mike pushed his way through the group and ran towards his sister. Farran came down the stairs with Dustin. It always startled Steve to see how much Farran looked like him as a man. It was a good thing, though.

"Holy shit, is that a picture of Bob?" Jonathan said as he glanced at a picture on the wall.

"It is," Joyce said. "Why do you have a picture of Bob?"

"He was my husband," Farran said. "And this was his family home."

"Bob never said he was married," Joyce said, frowning.

"Divorced. We split after Steve was taken from us," Farran said.

"Steve is Bob's son?!" Will asked.

"He never said. . . ," Joyce trailed off. "Actually, he said he didn't have kids he was aware of."

"Steve was kidnapped and hidden from us by wiccan magic. We searched for years, and then Bob stayed here, waiting for him to come home, never knowing he was right in front of us," Farran said softly.

"He does have Bob's eyes," she said as she smiled at the both of them.

"I'm glad Bobby had love in his life before he died," Farran said, patting her hand.

"Okay, tell us everything from the beginning," Hopper sighed.

Farran shared a look with his son before launching into the story.

". . . And we did everything we could, but Vecna overpowered us," Farran said.

"Eddie. . .," Steve choked. "He and Chrissy. . .they died."

Suddenly, everything was hurting. Eddie wouldn't be here anymore. Steve wouldn't wake up next to him. . .no more dinners with Farran, Wayne, and Eddie. It would he a somber affair now with a piece of their family missing. No Chrissy coming in with Nancy to join them. No more double dating with Nancy and Chrissy. No double wedding under fae law. They were supposed to travel to Saoradh, the hidden land of the fae, this summer. Not to get married yet (that was far off) but to view the beautiful land and all it had to offer. Chrissy and Steve were supposed to learn more about their magic, their ancestors. Now, Chrissy was gone, and so was Eddie. Eddie.

"I'm so sorry," Joyce said softly.

Steve glanced at Nancy, who was hugging Jonathan tightly. Argyle stood somberly off to the side. Nancy pulled away and shared a glance with Steve. They moved towards each other. Nancy threw her arm around Steve, still crying. Steve sniffled and wrapped his arms around Nancy. What was going to happen now?

"I am here now," El said. "And I am stronger than ever. I believe together we can destroy Henry."

Meanwhile, in the Upside Down. . .

A figure jumped down into the gate from the Munsons' trailer. The hooded figure moved outside and glanced at the red sky filled with lightning. He pulled the hood down. Al Munson moved through the Upside Down, not stopping until he came to his son's body. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on Eddie's cold forehead.

"I've fucked up, son. I've done everything wrong, and I let my anger get the best of me. I wasn't there for your mom, not the way I should have, and I spent so much time blaming other people. You shouldn't have had to pay for my mistakes. There's one thing that I did right, and that was bringing you into this world with your mom. There's one other thing that I could do, and that's bringing you back. . . I still have time. It's going to take everything that I've got," Al said. "I love you."

Al cut up his son's shirt and began painting runes on his chest. Al took off his shirt before painting the same rune on his chest. He opened his spellbook and began chanting. Al felt his lifeforce begin to flow out of him, purple light floating from his chest. With the spell, Al told it where to go. The light began to pour into Eddie's rune. The last bit of light escaped Al's body and went into his son's. He collapsed on the ground, and as he took his last breath, Eddie gasped for his. Eddie awoke, clutching his chest. Shit, didn't the bats eat him alive? There were no wounds. . .only purple scars. Eddie turned his head to find his father's lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"Dad?" Eddie asked and knelt over him. "Dad?!"

Eddie sobbed. He already knew what Al did for him. . .but why? Why?! Eddie hated him for so many reasons, but now he was grateful to him. It was twice now that this man gave him life. Eddie sat up and took his dad's hand only to discover there was a note in his palm.

"I know sorry isn't going to be enough for how much I fucked up. I let you down so many times. Let Lizzie down. If you've discovered what I've done. . .no apology is ever going to be good enough to make up for what I did to those kids. On this paper, there is a list of names. Kids I sold, witches who have also sold kids. . Do with it what you will. You're already a better man than I am. . .I love you, kid. I know wherever your mom is. She's proud of you. Your story isn't over yet."

A couple of hours later. . .

Everyone stood their ground in the woods. Steve was fighting off the demogorgons and the demobats. His father was fighting beside him. Red lightning flashed over head. Steve held his nailbat, his eyes glowing green as emerald flames erupted around his bat. He swung the bat and hit a demogorgon. It whimpered as it hit the tree and exploded into green flames. More demogorgons came out from the trees, ready to pounce. The party was surrounded. The demogorgons launched themselves into the air.

"ENOUGH!" Henry's voice rang out.

They all heard him but they couldn't see him. The demogorgons paused, standing before them and waiting for their next orders. Steve scanned the treelines for any sign of the bastard. Silence fell as the party gathered together in a circle, back to back. Dustin was one side of him while Farran was on the other. Suddenly, they heard footsteps move closer, the snapping of branches echoing throughout the forest. She appeared, her eyes red and her smile menacing.

"Chrissy," Nancy gasped.

Fred followed after her, then came Patrick, and finally, Max.

"Max," Lucas gasped and moved to get to her, but Nancy grabbed his arm.

"Let me introduce you to my wonderful puppets. . .why would I kill them when I can use them for their power? Oh, I would have gotten to you too, Steve. . .if it hadn't been for Eddie. . .I had to do away with him - "

Suddenly, Henry was cut off by the sound of music. . .specifically the strumming of a guitar. Purple smoke, flashing with light, started to spill through the trees.

"What the fuck?" Will asked.

The purple smoke surrounded Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max. Amongst the smoke, their eyes turned a bright, furious green. The smoke swirled around the bats and the demogorgons as well.

"NO! NO! NO!" Henry screamed as he appeared through the smoke. "WHAT IS THIS?!"

A shadowy figure appeared and started moving towards them. The music got louder and louder until a person appeared carrying a guitar covered in runes. Steve grinned at the familiar guitar and at the ring covered hands playing them. He recognized those hands. He came out of the smoke like a god, his eyes a furious purple and his grin feral. He was shirtless and covered in runes.

"Eddie," Steve gasped.

Eddie grinned and began to sing his spells. He was an angel and devil. Both menacing and beautiful. Steve was ready to get down on his knees for Eddie right then and there. The demogorgons and the demobats turned on Henry. Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max all turned on him as well.

"NO! YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO BE MINE!" Henry screamed.

"We belong to no one," Chrissy said.

Her hands lit up with green flames. She Fred's then Fred took Patrick's, and then Patrick took Max's. All their hands glowed with a bright green flame, and they shot out at Henry. The green flames encircled him, and he screamed as they began licking at him, burning his flesh. The demogorgons growled and dove into the flames along with the demobats. They all began tearing at his flesh, not caring that they were dying in the process. They all watched the flames until everything died out. Henry Creel was dead. The purple smoke was gone now, and the skies had cleared. Lucas rushed to Max immediately, hugging her tightly. Max crashed her lips to his. Nancy ran to Chrissy and immediately jumped into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. She kissed Chrissy deeply, shaking with sobs. Chrissy gripped Nancy's thigh and pressed her up against a tree to steady her. Steve stood and stared at Eddie in shock. The runes disappeared from him and his guitar. Eddie gave his guitar to Dustin.

"I'm real, big boy," Eddie said softly.

Steve let out a sob, and Eddie pulled him close. He dipped Steve and kissed him. Unable to keep their balance, Steve and Eddie stumbled to the ground.

"Well, hell, is anyone going to kiss us?" Patrick asked.

"We could kiss each other," Fred joked.

Patrick stared at him, and the smile slipped off of Fred's face. Patrick grinned as he looked him up and down.

"Yeah, okay, you're cute," Patrick said.

"What?! I mean. . .yeah!"

FIVE YEARS LATER. . .Saoradh. . .

Steve couldn't believe he was here, standing in his homeland with Chrissy, Eddie, and Nancy. Robin brought Vickie as well. All of their family and friends were there, including all of the fae children they had saved over the years. It had taken Eddie, Steve, Chrissy, and Nancy traveling in a cramped RV all over the country to find them all. Eddie hadn't been able to use his magic all the time. He was still amazed every time they came here. Steve gazed at the purple and pink sky, sighing happily. This is it.

"You nervous?" Robin's voice asked.

"Not at all," Steve grinned.

"He's totally nervous," Dustin said.

He pulled his head from the window and back into the small wooden building. He turned towards Robin and Dustin, glaring playfully.

"I'm ready for this," Steve said and tucked his hair behind his ears.

He clipped the fairy wings to his ears and checked his makeup in the mirror one last time. It had been centuries since the fae had lost their wings, but they still made sure to remember they once had them. Steve adjusted his yellow suit. It had been tough choosing between the suit and the fairy wedding robes, especially since the robe had lovely flowing sleeves. Steve chose the suit because his ass looked great in the pants, and he loved to see Eddie drool. Steve was more than willing to wear the jewelry, and if he knew Eddie, which he did, he had chosen the long flowing robes. Farran popped her head in, wearing fairy robes with glittering and moving flowers. Her carmel hair was piled on top of her head, with strands of hair framing her face.

"Oh, you look so beautiful, my love," Farran gasped.

"Thanks, Mama," Steve grinned. "You look beautiful too."

"Oh, I can't believe this is happening. Bobby and Lizzie should be here to see this," Farran said tearfully.

"In a way, I think they are," Steve grinned. "I feel them."

Farran patted his cheek and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yeah."

Farran took his arm and led him outside. Dustin ran ahead to stand beside Eddie as his best man. Robin took Steve’s other arm.

"Hey, you're supposed to be my best man," Steve said in amusement.

"I've decided to give you away as well," Robin said. "I feel like it's my right as your platonic soulmate."

Farran and Steve laughed. Farran and Robin led Steve towards a cluster of trees. The tree branches moved aside, opening up to a large clearing where a lot of people were gathered. Eddie was up there already, Wayne crying and trying to get him to settle down. He adjusted Eddie's red, long flowing robes before stepping aside. Dustin was grinning with tears in his eyes. There was a large space next to them where Fred was standing up as Nancy's best man, and Patrick was standing up as Chrissy's. The music had already started. Nancy appeared first in her pastel blue suit, and her wild curls set loose. Ted and Karen stood on either side of her, crying. Steve watched as they led her down the aisle, and he laughed when Eddie high fived her before she got in place.

Next came Chrissy in her pink pastel suit, and her strawberry blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Argyle was happily giving her away, laughing when Eddie high fived her too. Finally, Steve was next. Farran and Robin guided him down the aisle where Eddie was waiting for him. With tears in his eyes, Steve couldn't help but think about how all of this started. Eddie had been in robes then, too, clueless about the unknown. He had guided Steve home, led him to discovering the truth about himself, and in the process, they had done so much good. It doesn't matter where you were, really, the people who were the most important to you, they were what made a house a home. As Steve walked towards Eddie, he had the same feelings as he did the day he met Nancy, the day Dustin came into his life, the same emotions swirling around him when he became friends with Robin and it was like when he hugged his mom for the first time since he was a baby. The truth of the matter. . .is that coming home happens more than once, and Steve was lucky to get so many.

[coelii]

let’s talk Castlevania lore~

so it occurred to me that, within the game material (I haven’t watched the TV show or anything like that so that’s not personally interesting to me for this discussion, sry sry), we don’t have all THAT clear an idea of why Dracula is A Bad Guy Who Must Be Stopped At All Costs, do we? I kinda feel like it’s mostly just treated as “c’mon, it’s Dracula, let’s go vampire killin’”

I mean we’ve got the accusation that he “steals men’s souls and makes them [his] slaves,” and, okay, if true (do we ever, like, see that?) I guess that’s pretty not great. And I’m willing to accept just a priori that he is A Vampire and therefore, okay, presumably there’s some drinking of innocent blood or something, not ideal. (Again, not sure that ever occurs on-screen?) I guess he also cursed Simon to have some pretty horrible nights? That’s not rad, i guess.

But like, fundamentally, do we ever have actual word in the games/game material of what exactly Dracula’s menace really IS? Just what kind of fate is the Belmont clan (et al.*) supposedly protecting us from? I guess I probably don’t want to live next door to an Active Vampire, but honestly it’s pretty amusing to me that I can’t actually think of what Dracula supposedly, like, wants.

(*from the Latin “et Alucard”)

So if we’re strictly looking at game material (and specifically main game and not the Lords of Shadow reboot) in my opinion there’s two origin games that have made a case for Dracula’s desires.

Castlevania Lament of Innocence

As covered in another recent ask, this is the official first game in the timeline

Here you play as Leon Belmont whose betrothed Sara is kidnapped by an ancient vampire named Walter Bernhard. Leon’s close friend Mathias Cronqvist, an alchemist who is grief stricken over the loss of his wife Elisabetha (who died of an illness while he was away), informs Leon that Walter was the one who kidnapped Sara and Leon goes to save her. Over the course of the game you learn that there are two powerful vampire relics and Walter is in possession of one: the Ebony Stone that produces darkness and makes Walter effectively invulnerable (as he is strongest in the darkness the stone produces).

You also create the Vampire Killer whip during the game which has the power to break the Ebony Stone and make Walter susceptible to damage. At the game’s climax, when Walter is close to Death (both metaphorically and physically) it’s revealed that Leon’s buddy Mathias had the other vampire relic, the Crimson Stone, the whole time. This relic absorbs the souls and power of other vampires (kind of a Ghostbuster situation).

Walter’s soul is captured in the stone, but Mathias uses it for his own dark purposes - to become a vampire himself and take revenge against God (whom he curses for taking his wife from him). Mathias eventually gives up his name and adopts the name Dracula instead and is canonically the Dracula in all Castlevania Games.

This origin story unfortunately leaves a lot to be desired in Dracula’s motivations because it basically amounts to Dracula being a man who’s just mad that God took his wife from him and uses another Vampire’s power (Walter) as his own. He isn’t noble or powerful without the stone (which is this red thing he wears in much of the official artwork apparently)

But I guess “stick it to the man” is technically a motivation…

Castlevania Legends

Now I’m a Lament of Innocence denier personally and would prefer to use the older games as the source to answer this question.

According to the Legend’s instruction book the story is:

IT WAS THE MIDDLE AGES IN TRANSYLVANIA. ONE MAN CAME INTO POSSESSION OF AN EVIL POWER, AND THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS WAS BORN. BEFORE LONG, THIS BEING HAD USED HIS NEW-FOUND SUPERNATURAL POWERS AND THE MAGIC POWERS OF HIS FOLLOWERS TO SPREAD HIS PLAGUE OF DARKNESS AND DESPAIR THROUGHOUT THE EUROPEAN CONTINENT, HE WAS COUNT DRACULA. EVEN TO MENTION THE NAME OF THIS PRINCE OF DARKNESS WAS TO CAST FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE IN THE LAND, WHO WERE POWERLESS TO DO ANYTHING SAVE VOICE THEIR CONCERN. HOWEVER, AT ABOUT THE SAME TIME A BABY GIRL POSSESSING SPECIAL POWERS WAS BORN TO A FAMILY LIVING IN A REMOTE AREA OF THE COUNTRY. "YOUR POWERS ARE MEANT FOR A HIGHER PURPOSE AND NOT ONLY FOR YOURSELF” SHE WAS OFTEN REMINDED AS SHE WAS GROWING UP. THE PLOT OF THIS GIRL'S FATE BEGAN TO DEVELOP ONE NIGHT IN HER SEVENTEENTH YEAR WHEN SHE MET UP WITH THE YOUNG ENIGMATIC ALUCARD, WHO WAS ON A JOURNEY TO SEARCH FOR THE FATHER THAT HAD DESERTED HIM. THE YOUNG GIRL'S NAME WAS SONIA BELMONT, AND SHE WAS THE FIRST OF THE VAMPIRE HUNTERS IN THE BELMONT FAMILY TO BECOME LEGENDARY.

Now unfortunately this doesn’t tell us too much. In this origin Dracula exists already, obtained his power by coming “into possession” of it, and his motivation is simply “spread his plague of darkness and despair throughout the European continent” (Africa, Asia, the Americas, and Australia are all safe apparently).

Now I don’t want to theorycraft too far off the actual game material here, but I do know that Vampire Hunter D was heavily inspirational to the development of Castlevania. Many people know the anime films, but Vampire Hunter is a series of novels first published in 1983 (three years before the first CV game was released) and in these novels the being known as the “Sacred Ancestor” is the progenitor of all the other vampires and the oldest among them. He is known as the Vampire King or God and D is the Sacred Ancestor’s son (so to speak). This was the inspiration for Alucard, who we know in Castlevania lore to be Dracula’s direct descendant.

The VH novels present vampires as a race unto themselves, not the traditional mythos of humans given vampiric power (although they can still create vampires from humans).

Novel #17: White Devil Mountain (published 2014) is more explicit in this stating that vampires predate humans by possibly millions of years. The Sacred Ancestor, as the oldest among them, felt it was his duty to watch over his people and did many experiments over the years to try and save his race from eventual extermination (not necessarily by the hands of Hunters, but through a variety of circumstances). Some experiments included inventions that could block out the sun and give eternal darkness (a common theme in vampire lore).

The Dracula of Castlevania seems as much inspired by Bram Stoker’s creation and the historical Vlad Tepes as he was by Vampire Hunter’s Sacred Ancestor.

If the Sacred Ancestor’s motivation was as ward and protector of his race, acting in various ways to save them and ensure their continued reign and existence then I would say Dracula’s motivation is similar: “spread his plague of darkness” by ensuring that the curse of night spreads and his people can remain powerful and eternal.

In Short

Both games present Dracula as a man who obtained power through unholy means. Walter Bernhard’s origins aren’t necessarily explained in the game and it’s possible that like Vampire Hunter D he is of a race of vampires older than humanity and Dracula simply is just a man using his power as his own. However I feel Dracula’s motivation may still be similar to that of the Sacred Ancestor from VH: with great power comes great responsibility (thanks Ben!) and his duty is to protect and allow his people to thrive in a world hellbent on destroying them.

[headfulloflettuce]

Puppet Darling - Part 3

Inspired by @wallflowers-in-the-wind’s post here.

Here you can read part 1 and part 2 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7

Nesta was hiding. Lucien insisted they split up after Feyre's…breakdown and she had been here ever since. 

Stuck in a broom closet.

If her mother was still alive to see this she would have proceeded to keel over and die again.

Nesta snorted.

For a general he was rather bad at this game of hide and seek, though perhaps this would be more up Azriel’s lane.

“Nesta? Nes? Where are you?” Cassian called out, the sound of his boots coming closer.

He passed the broom closet.

“Sweetheart?”

Nesta smirked.

He didn’t even think I would try and hide in a space as…messy as this.

She shifted, the grime from the cleaning supplies sticking to her dark blue dress, her hair falling out of her bun in a messy fashion. Nesta knew she was being petty; not dancing with her mate because he hadn’t complimented her dress.

It was stupid. But so was he, so in her mind, it evened out.

Even though I spent hours preparing. 

I mean, if he can compliment Mor’s dress for fifteen minutes straight, surely he could spare me a glance. 

Nesta crossed her arms. Until he acknowledges her efforts she wasn’t going to come out of this closet. 

The door creaked, making Nesta jump, hitting her head on the low ceiling. A breathless Lucien scrambled inside, shutting the door closed behind him.

He stared at her.

She stared back.

“Excuse me but this hiding spot is taken.” Nesta smirked, raising her eyebrows at the red head.

Lucien only brought his fingers to his lips, begging her to be silent. 

Nesta quieted, listening closely to the sounds around them. 

There was nothing.

“Lucien, what is-”

He covered her mouth with one hand, listening intently, using the other to pull back the curtains on the small window in the closet, illuminating the whole space with bright sunshine.

Nesta listened too. She heard it now - the soft whispers.

Along the edges of the door she could see them, the small shadows that squirmed and weaved their way through darkness, trying to see what was inside the closet, but failing due to the light’s presence.

Lucien exhaled as the shadows left, removing his hand from Nesta’s mouth, “We’ll have a short while before Azriel realizes where we are.”

“Sorry, but where you are. I am not in on whatever you’re doing.”

“I am trying to find the reason why Rhysand lost control of Feyre.”

Nesta looked at him.

“Feyre said that this is the first time she’s been in control in years, that means something here must have disrupted Rhysand’s power over her.” Lucien explained, “I was sneaking around, trying to find clues when Azriel got suspicious and began following me.”

“Did you find anything?” her voice softened.

“Perhaps.” Lucien muttered, “Apparently a fae called Elanor interrupted the High Lord’s meeting, which was when Feyre left. I suspect she has something to do with this. She is a scholar employed by Helion in the palace. Maybe she has some sort of power, or magic that influences Rhysand.”

“A power? That can influence a High Lord? Please, Lucien, that’s absurd.”

“It is, but it isn’t unheard of. After all, they’re not invincible against ash wood, why can’t something else mess with them? Or any fae for that matter?”

Nesta shrugged, feeling doubtful about the whole situation.

“I am going to try and sneak into her study and see if there’s anything there.”

“What if I tell Rhysand that you’re plotting against him?”

Lucien paled, “You wouldn’t do that…”

“Would I not?” Nesta jutted out her chin.

“You hate him.”

“Oh, and here I thought I was supposed to love him?”

“Nesta, this is your sister, please.”

“Please what?” Nests was annoyed, first Cassian, now Lucien was bothering her.

Can you not leave me to enjoy my quiet and peace for five minutes?

“Please, help me.” Lucien’s eyes were earnest, “Help me save my friend.”

Friend. He was still willing to call her friend after everything.

Nesta sighed, “Fine. I will help you. If next time you won’t bother me when I am relaxing.”

Lucien looked around the small closet they were sitting in, “I am sorry, I didn’t realize we were at a luxurious spa resort.”

Nesta glared, “Do you want my help?”

“Yes, sorry. No more spa jokes.” Lucien nodded apologetically, scooting over to the door and checking the hallway, “It’s clear. We can go.”

She crawled out of the cramped space, following Lucien who dusted his pants off from the dirt that got on his clean pants. Nesta looked down at her dress, covered in dust and soot. She took out her handkerchief, trying to clean it off as well, but it only smudged.

Lucien took the lead, walking down the hallway, carefully checking corners and continuously looking around to ensure they weren’t being followed.

“Are you a ballerina Lucien?” Nesta noted.

“Sorry, but if you haven’t forgotten, an infamous shadowsinger is on the lookout.”

“Right.” she still thought he looked silly.

Nesta hadn’t decided what she thought of her sister’s ramblings. Because truly? Mind control? She couldn’t bring herself to trust such a statement when Feyre had raved about how amazing Rhys was. How he saved her from Tamlin. How the Spring Lord was the worst male to ever walk this planet. How Feyre practically worshiped the ground Rhysand walked on…

Nesta paused, her youngest sister’s panicked expression flashing in her mind.

What if it was true though? What if Feyre truly wasn’t Feyre all this time? 

Nesta glanced at Lucien’s concentrated expression.

Lucien took her seriously the moment she confessed.

“How much farther?”

“We’re here.” Lucien turned into another hallway, pressing his ear against the third door, checking if someone was inside. He then pulled out a lockpick and began working the lock.

Nesta kept watch, ready to shut down the operation if anyone came close.

The lock clicked.

“I got it.” Lucien pushed the door open, Nesta stepping inside.

The room was tall, with models of planets hanging from the ceiling amongst the faerie lights. A large window behind the work desk provided additional illumination. Lucien began carefully searching through the items left on the couches, while Nesta gazed at the bookshelf lining the wall in wonder. 

She ran a hand down the spine of an ancient text. 

Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. The knowledge you must hide within you.

Nesta paused her musings, smirking as her fingers found a romance novel.

My, the smut you hide inside you…

Turning away from the books Nesta walked over to the large work bench covered in papers and various instruments. She leaned in, analyzing the beakers and vials closely.

Which one of you is weakening Rhysand?

Her eyes scanned the crystals, rocks and moss littering the space, stopping on a vial full of golden powder. Nesta huffed, sensing Lucien peeking over her shoulder.

Personal space much?

The sparkles shimmered, mesmerizing her with the lattice patterns being constructed and destructed as it swirled. She picked up the vial, giving it a gentle whirl. 

It was definitely a powder, despite its watery visuals. 

The door clicked, as someone began unlocking it.

“Shit.” Lucien whispered, quickly taking Nesta’s hand, winnowing them away as the door swung open. 

They teleported into the Day Court’s garden’s maze. 

“Wow Lucien.” Nests chuckled, “What will the faeries say when they see us here together?”

What would Elain think?

Lucien looked away, putting distance between the two of them as he began navigating his way out of the garden maze, “We needed more time. That powder must be related to this situation somehow.” he gritted his teeth, regretting that he hadn’t grabbed it.

“You mean this powder?” Nesta pulled out her handkerchief, filled to the brim with the sparkling dust.

Lucien stopped walking, staring at the dust, “I thought you said you would sell me out to Rhys.”

“I changed my mind.” Nesta pocketed the powder, “I can’t let you have all the fun now can I?”

“No, I guess you can’t.” he conceded. 

“What now?”

“We should find Feyre, tell her what we found.”

“Then we have no time to lose.” Nesta took the lead, “Who knows when our dear High Lord will come looking for us.”

Nesta couldn’t believe the person standing across the ballroom was the same sister who had just been sobbing, begging her for help. Feyre was chatting with Day Court nobles casually, the superior aura that Nesta had grown to despise back in full force. Her sister giggled at something a fae female said, bidding them goodbye as she was left alone.

“Now’s our chance.” Nesta gritted her teeth, ready to hurl the stupid powder into her sister’s face and remind her of the things she had been spouting mere hours ago.

“Wait.” Lucien spoke up before Nesta could get closer, “We can’t just throw the powder at her.”

“Why not?”

“If it is the thing causing him to lose control over her he will find out if he searches her memory, it’s best to be discreet.” Lucien grabbed a tray of wine glasses from a servant passing by, “Put it in here.”

“Should I add it to ours too?”

Lucien hesitated before nodding.

“Isn’t that unsafe?” Nesta asked pointedly.

“It is, we don’t know if it has negative consequences besides disrupting Rhysand’s powers.” Lucien agreed, “But we don’t have to drink, just pretend to.”

Nesta sprinkled some of the powder onto the top of the drinks, pocketing the rest of it afterwards.

“Hey Feyre!” Lucien approached the High Lady of the Night Court, smiling brightly, “How is your evening going?”

“Oh, it’s good.” Feyre smiled, her movements smooth and controlled.

“Good, would you like to have a drink? We wanted to toast to you and Rhysand.” Lucien offered her a glass.

“Haha, you’re so sweet Lucien.” Feyre took one of the glasses, Lucien and Nesta matching her movements.

“To your happy union.” Lucien congratulated.

Nesta looked at her sister, searching for any hint that this whole thing was a ruse. That this was all an elaborate scheme to trick her and Lucien into doing something they weren’t supposed to. 

She found nothing but the familiar blue-gray eyes, soulless and void of the spark, the anger and happiness Nesta witnessed in them when Feyre found her and Elain in the kitchen.

Feyre smiled, her eyes glazed over as she tipped her glass to them, bringing it up to her lips. Taking a sip, Feyre’s eyes widened, the panic and clarity Nesta had seen in her sister earlier returning in full force as she swayed, Lucien placing a hand behind her to keep her stable.

“Luc-”

“Don't draw attention.” He said quietly, still smiling, waving to a few emesseries that passed by.

Feyre nodded, blinking away the mist from her eyes.

“How did you do it?”

“We found the thing that does it.” Lucien kept his wording vague.

Feyre breathed a sigh of relief.

“What now though?”

“We need to run.”

“Feyre you can't be serious, that's suicide. Rhysand will easily catch us.”

“We have to!” Her voice rose, catching the attention of a couple noble females nearby, “He knows I am free, he'll come as soon as he can away from talking with Helion and Thesan!”

“Feyre you need to be quiet.” Lucien shushed her, “I understand you're scared but if you yell it'll only get him here faster.”

“We should go a route he wouldn't expect us to.” Nesta spoke up, her mind already spinning with ideas.

“We should just winnow away-”

“No, that's what he'll expect us to do.” Nesta cut Lucien off, “We'll go by foot.”

“By foot, are you crazy? We'll get caught at that rate!”

“Not ‘we’, us, you are staying back.” Nesta gave the order.

Feyre stared at her sister.

“What are you talking about? Of course I am coming with you!” Lucien sputtered 

“We need someone to keep an eye on Rhysand, if we leave with no one on the inside we'll be in more danger.” Nesta explained.

Lucien reluctantly nodded, seeing her point, “So you want me to be the sneaky fox on the inside?”

“More like a mole or a rat.”

“I prefer Fox.”

Nesta turned to Feyre, not wanting to continue this useless debate, “Is there anything you need before we leave?”

“Nyx.” Feyre said, “We need to get him. I can't leave him with Rhysand.”

“Where is he right now?”

“With Naula…”

“We can go get him together.” Lucien offered, “Nesta you should stay back to not raise suspicion.”

“Right…” Nesta responded dryly.

“Wait,” Feyre looked to Nesta, “Can you get Elain to come with us?”

“Feyre, I don’t think she wants to leave at this point.”

“It’s dangerous…please, I don’t want her to get hurt.”

So me getting hurt was fine, but her no?

Nesta sighed.

Well…at least we can agree on her wellbeing.

“I’ll convince her.”

“We’ll meet at the docks.” Lucien took Feyre’s hand.

“Why at the docks?” Feyre sounded exhausted.

“You’ll see.”

Nesta found Elain chatting with a group of Day Court herbalists.

“Elain, may I have a word?”

Elain looked annoyed but stepped away with Nesta to the side, “What is it?”

“We need to go.”

“By the Mother, did Feyre convince you?!” Elain looked disappointed in her sister.

“Elain, I think…she might be telling the truth.”

“She was just drunk.”

“Lucien took her seriously.”

Elain quieted at the mention of Lucien, narrowing her eyes, “What did he say?”

“He said it was because of the bargain they struck under the mountain.”

“What bargain?”

Well, at least I wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“The one that required Feyre to spend a week with Rhys in Night Court.”

“What…?”

“We’re planning on running.”

Those words didn’t sound real to Nesta. The idea that they were finally leaving? After all this time? Abandoning the very thing they-she, had sacrificed so much to?

It was liberating.

“Hold on, isn’t this an overreaction? We should try to talk it out with Rhys, or ask Mor for help. Oh, I am sure Azriel would be willing to listen!”

“Elain-”

“No!” Elain raised her voice, startling Nesta, “You don’t get to tear me away when I just settled in. You don’t get to tear me away from the life that I had built for myself. Feyre was happy living in the Night Court as the High Lady until what? An hour ago? Claiming to have gotten mind controlled?” she took a step forward, “And why are you so keen to believe her? Don’t tell me you’re trying to play the caring older sister after”

Nesta didn’t say anything, watching as her sister caught her breath, calming down.

“Better?”

Elain nodded.

“Elain, I understand that this is all…a lot right now, but I still think that this is a good decision.”

“Leaving?” Elain snapped.

“No, call it taking a vacation.” Nesta corrected, “We’ll go somewhere else. Someplace we can treat as a neutral ground for our conversations with Rhys and the others. If…and when we have resolved this conflict we can go back.”

Elain gently brushed her dress out, processing.

“When are we leaving?”

“Now.”

“The main part of the event is over, you should be able to escape on foot.” Lucien explained as the group, dressed in gray cloaks, approached the port, “You’ll escape on a ship heading back to Summer Court, from where you can travel to Spring and to the human lands.”

“Thank you.” Feyre murmured, holding a bundled up Nyx close to her chest.

“It’s nothing.” Lucien avoided making eye contact with Elain, leading the Archeron sisters to a large transport ship, “I already checked, there is a large crate at the very end of the ship that has free space that won’t get filled up with produce. Hide there.”

With that he winnowed away.

The three sisters exchanged a look, carefully boarding the ship, Nesta keeping a lookout to ensure they weren’t spotted. 

Feyre sat quietly, holding Nyx close to her chest, gently bouncing him to keep him quiet.

Elain curled in on herself, while Nesta tapped a rhythm with her finger.

“Is the ship ready to depart?”

“Yes captain!”

“Good, we’ll be departing in fifteen minutes.”

The sailors moved around the ship, chatting and double checking that everything was secure.

Feyre flinched.

Nests cast her a questioning look.

“Sorry, it’s the bond.” Feyre cringed, “Rhysand is screaming at me to return through it.”

“Maybe we should.” Elain said pointedly.

“Absolutely not.” Feyre’s voice regained its previous panic, “We cannot go back.” she hissed.

I hate that look in your eyes.

Nesta gazed at her younger sister.

I hate how weak you are.

Feyre took a deep breath, trying to ease an invisible pain.

Where is my sister? The one who hunted? The one who protected us?

“Captain! Captain! The High Lord of Summer is here!”

“Please, just Tarquin is fine.”

“Right sir.”

“Are we ready to set sail?”

“Yes sir!”

“Don’t High Lords winnow home?” Elain mouthed to Nesta.

They’re supposed to.

She didn’t give her sister a response.

“Sir, please take a look.” the captain opened a nearby crate, “While in Day we were able to purchase some of their wines.”

“There was a second crate with more somewhere over here.” another voice sounded.

Light hit their faces as someone opened the crate they were sitting in. A sailor stared in confusion at them.

“Kid, the other wines are to the left of that.”

“Um, sir. There’s…uh.”

“What is it?” Tarquin’s voice approached, his face appearing beside the younger fae’s.

He made eye contact with Feyre.

“You.” Tarquin glared, his voice like the ocean hitting sharp cliffs.

“T-Tarquin.” guilt flashed across Feyre's face as she pulled away, hiding further in the crate.

“Why the hell are you three in here?”

“Tarq-”

“Here to steal another ancient artifact?”

“No!”

“Let me guess, Rhysand is hiding in one of these as well.”

“High Lord-” Nest was also interrupted.

“No, that’s too beneath him. He’d rather send his dear High Lady here to do his dirty work.”

Feyre looked at him pleadingly.

“Get out.” Tarquin’s face showed no sign of backing down.

Feyre paled, “No.”

“Did I not make myself clear?”

“High Lord.” Nesta spoke up, Tarquin glaring at her instead, “We’re not here to steal from you.”

“Then are you here to have a tea party?” he laughed.

“We’re on the run.”

Tarquin raised an eyebrow, “On the run? From what?”

“From Rhysand.”

The group went quiet.

“What are you talking about?”

Nesta looked to Feyre.

I don’t know how to explain your situation.

“Rhysand used his daemati powers on me.” Feyre explained.

“What are you talk-”

“He started when I first went to the Night Court. After he showed up at mine and Tamlin’s wedding.”

“From what I heard you seemed happy to leave Tamlin.” Tarquin countered, “Didn’t he keep you trapped? You made a big deal over it.”

“I was happy to leave Tamlin.” Feyre said, “But the more time I spent with Rhysand the more he took over my mind. The less I could properly think for myself.”

Tarquin still looked skeptical.

“Please Tarquin.” Feyre begged.

My sister could beg.

Nesta had never heard her take such a pleading tone.

It clearly took Tarquin by surprise as well, his skepticism vanishing for a second. He opened his mouth to speak when a familiar dark voice greeted him, “Tarquin, long time no see.”

“Rhysand, what brings you here?” Tarquin gestured for the fae beside him to cover up the crate, plunging Nesta and her sisters into darkness.

Feyre squeezed Nyx closer to her, her eyes full of fear and quiet tears.

“Ah, I just wanted to stop by and say hello.” Rhysand’s footsteps approached the crate.

“Feyre, you need to breathe.” Nesta whispered to her sister, watching her begin to hyperventilate “You can’t let him know he’s close.”

Feyre nodded, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to remain calm, Elain doing her best to keep Nyx distracted from the situation.

“Say, you haven’t seen Feyre have you?” Rhys asked casually.

Silence.

“No, I haven’t. Why? Did you lose your wife?” Tarquin’s tone was humorous.

“Of course not.” Rhysand said, gritting his teeth, “She said she wanted to go on a walk around the town, so I was just curious if you had seen her.”

“No.” Tarquin smiled, “No, I haven’t seen her.” 

“A pity. I was thinking we could have had dinner together if she was still close by.”

“A pity indeed.”

“She probably has gone home then. I hope we’ll get to talk more another day Tarquin.”

“Have a safe trip home, Rhysand.”

The group beside the crate went quiet as Rhysand left. Once safe, Tarquin reopened the crate, “Get out.”

“Tarquin please-”

“I am not kicking you off. I am going to hide you better.”

The three let out an exhale.

“On one condition.”

“Yes?” Feyre asked tentatively.

“You get the fuck out of my court within three days of arrival.” Tarquin helped Feyre out of the crate, “If you do not, I will send sirens after you to show you the door.”

Next: Part 4

[cakemoney]

once in a while i contemplate what was going to happen to evan, back in season 1 when he asked for the Procedure to Make Him Normal. because, like, we realized that that's a lie, right? we realized at the big reveal that there isn't anything that makes someone capable or incapable of magic; everyone on earth could do magic if they were aware of it and were taught how to do it. there wasn't a thing that could be taken out or a switch that could be flipped; everyone was magic all along, had been even before some british assholes built a secret society on it. evan was never going to stop being magic.

so, like, what was philtrum's plan. were they going to just wipe evan's memories and drop him back where he was before? would they try to erase all of evan's memories that involve magic, including all the scary demon shit that happened throughout his life? or would they just cut out his knowledge of gowpenny, and essentially rewind him to before he got that first owl? if he doesn't remember gowpenny, he's not gonna remember that he was supposed to have a procedure that fixed him anyway, so what does it matter?

i don't remember clearly, but i believe (?) the whole procedure thing was one of the ways philtrum was trying to get the whole pilot program declared a failure, so maybe wiping all their memories and sending them back without knowledge of gowpenny or magic or each other was always part of her plan. but even if they no longer remember what magic is, they will still have the potential of magic, and that could be an issue with evan, right? philtrum and co. don't know everything about evan's demon stuff, but she must've noticed from the beginning that something about evan isn't right. evan's familiar is his own shadow; in every conversation with him, evan has spoken of magic as something that he had a pre-existing relationship with (namely, a bad relationship where he is scared of magic because it has caused bad stuff to happen to him). for all the others, if gowpenny was removed from their lives, may never cast another spell again, but it's hard to be sure of that with evan; philtrum didn't know concrete details about the demons, but she also didn't know that sam managed to charm them into leaving. what happens if Bad Magic Shit happens to evan again, and something leads evan to remembering or finding out about gowpenny anyway? evan could be some kind of prophecied dark wizard, which probably isn't a foreign concept for a headmistress who runs a school where there is a whole house for kids who've been labeled evil; if they return him to america and he's left to his own devices, how can they be sure that he doesn't Cause Problems for wizard society later?

what i mean is. we already know philtrum's tried multiple times to get evan killed; we know she feels contempt for the pilot program and want to get rid of them and protect the status quo. and evan has no family to go back to; the only people who would care enough to miss him would have no way of knowing where he's gone and what's happened to him, and hopefully would not remember him once this whole ordeal was over.

she was probably going to kill him, right? like, why waste time performing complex magic brain surgery on this kid? she's got no issues with lying, manipulation, and child murder. if evan had ended up going to the nebulous Appointment, philtrum was probably going to straight up kill him, or at least try to. and for the first time in his life, the shadows and demons wouldn't be around to protect him.

[7-wonders]

(Michael's Version)

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVII)

Summary: What it says on the tin: Michael's version.

Word Count: 5.6k

A note from the author: Certain phrases and sections may sound familiar, and that's because they are! We're back in the past, baby! This is it—our penultimate chapter. I have so many emotions about coming to the end of this journey, but I'll save them for the final chapter. Until then, enjoy, and as always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

Mad Love Masterlist

When Michael Langdon opens his eyes and finds himself surrounded by white, he believes that he’s died.

In his mind, it’s a logical conclusion to come to. He and Mallory had tried a very risky, obscure spell, after all, one with no real precedent for safety. If it ended up failing, it certainly wouldn’t be a shock. And don’t people see a white light when they die? It’s then that Michael remembers that when he dies, he is most certainly going to Hell, and actually takes a proper look at his surroundings.

While he is looking at the color white, it’s because he’s lying on the floor and staring up at a white ceiling. Around him are bookshelves packed to the brim with a variety of both old and new books—books whose pages are imbued with magic that Michael can sense. There’s a large, mahogany desk covered with more books and spare pages sitting under a picture window to his left, the chair pulled back and waiting for its occupant. Waiting for him, because he knows now beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s in the library at Miss Robichaux’s, which can only mean one thing: the spell worked.

Michael scrambles to his feet, his hand going to rest on the desk so that he can feel the wood beneath his palm and confirm that this isn’t some mere dream or hallucination. His nails scrape along the grain, the wood firm and sturdy and real. An opulent, gilded mirror on the opposite wall garners his attention, and he hesitantly makes his way over to peek in the glass.

Gone is the red, velvet dinner jacket and the dramatic eyeshadow. No longer does his hair tumble past his shoulders, and his eyes are devoid of the cold, disinterested glint that he had trained himself to carry at all times. Now, Michael stares at himself as he was, all those months ago. He’s fresh-faced, though a little exhausted, and he can see only worry and excitement in his eyes. His hair is curly and falls to just past his chin, the ends barely brushing his shoulders if he shrugs. The black bomber jacket slung over the back of the chair is obviously meant to complete his ensemble of a black t-shirt, black jeans, and Docs. 

For the first time in a long time, he recognizes the person in the mirror.

Now that it’s obvious that he’s back to a time before the apocalypse, his mind is already three floors down to where you surely sit. Logically, Michael knows that he should take a moment to assess the situation, perhaps test the parameters of the spell, and see if there are any limits on time or what he can and cannot do. He couldn’t care less about that though, not when he’s back in a world where you’re alive and well.

He throws open the door, so eager to reach you that he rushes out into the hallway without looking and runs right into somebody else. Both parties begin to fall backward, but Michael wraps his hands around his accidental victim’s upper arms and pulls them both upright.

“Whoa!” Zoe Benson exclaims, on the way to the library to return the book in her hands.

“Sorry.” The apology comes easily to him; surprising, considering how long it’s been since he’s had to apologize for anything.

“You’re good!” Zoe assures him, without any of the hate or malice that a witch who just faced off against him in a battle to reverse the apocalypse would be expected to have. “Are you looking for Y/n and Mallory?”

Michael knows exactly where you are, but he nods anyway, if only because you’re being referred to in the present tense.

“They’re hammocking in the backyard, which is a relief. Mallory needs someone to tell her to relax, and none of us can convince her.”

“I’ll make sure to convey the coven’s thanks, then.”

Zoe smiles. “You do that. I’ll see you around.”

Michael nods, waiting until Zoe actually makes it into the library to nearly run (more cautiously, now) down the stairs and towards the backyard. He pauses at the large French doors, taking in the scene before him. You and Mallory share a hammock under a canopy of wisteria trees that are trying their hardest to hold onto their blooms. Where before, Michael had been the one to rouse you from your nap, you’re now sitting up and embracing Mallory. The Supreme catches his eyes over your shoulder, and she smiles in tearful relief.

His feet carry him to the hammock almost unconsciously. Were it not for that, he would still be standing in one spot, stuck in the wonder of this moment and basking in you being alive once more. Now, Michael puts a shaking, hesitant hand on your shoulder, unable to wait a moment longer before touching you, yet wary of ruining this moment. Your skin is warm under his grip, and he can feel your muscles flex as you turn to look at him. When you smile at him, easy and free and nothing at all like the small, pained ones he had had to force out of you for eighteen months, he lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.

“Hi, my love.” He almost can’t get the words out, so choked up with emotion that they nearly become lodged in his throat.

“Hey,” you greet happily, completely and blissfully unaware of the nearly two years of literal hell he’d put you through. “How’d it go?”

Michael doesn’t respond at first, instead sitting on your other side on the hammock so that he can bring you into his arms and enjoy the feeling of you alive once more.

“Everybody’s in such a hugging mood today!” You wink at both him and Mallory and grin. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.” 

Michael hums, but otherwise remains silent. After a moment, you speak again. 

“Geez, was it really that bad?”

Yes, he wants to say. I had the worst nightmare, one in which I was a terrible friend and husband, in which I betrayed everyone I’ve ever known and ruined your trust, trust that I had worked so hard to gain. I dreamed that I destroyed our lives, everybody’s lives, and became a monster. I thought that I lost you, only now I know that I didn’t, because you’re here and happy and alive. I’ve woken up, back into the dream that I didn’t know I was living in until I lost it.

Instead, he says, “No, it was only mildly frustrating. Just…feels like I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Co-dependency isn’t healthy, sweetheart.” Tears spring at the pet name, and he has to shut his eyes to keep them from falling.

“Indulge me for just a bit. We are on vacation, after all.”

You laugh. “I’m on vacation. You’re on a research trip.”

“Since my research hasn’t really yielded anything, how about we make the next few hours before we have to meet Dinah a vacation for both of us?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Michael?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

You radiate joy, and Michael is so happy to be basking in it once more. “Then I happily accept.”

“I have a couple of things to give you for your protection, Michael, in case Dinah tries to cross you,” Mallory says. “Will you come with me while I grab them?”

He’d much prefer to never leave your side again, but he knows that there are matters that need to be discussed in private, so he begrudgingly nods and disentangles himself from you.

“We’ll be right back,” Mallory assures you.

“Don’t worry, I’m just fine out here!” To demonstrate this, you kick your feet up and lay back down on the hammock, smiling at the heat of the sun on your face once more. 

It’s one of the most beautiful sights that Michael’s ever seen in his life, and it makes it all the more difficult for him to leave. Mallory ends up having to tug him to her, transmuting them both so they’re in her bedroom.

“This was a really good time for you to pick,” Mallory admits as she pulls a key from her pocket and walks into her closet.

“I can’t believe it actually worked!” Michael exclaims, running a hand through his hair as he tries to take a moment to process everything that’s just happened.

“I wish I could say that I had faith in us, but it was really 50/50 on what I thought was going to happen.”

“What now? Do we have a limited amount of time here? Are there things that I can or can’t say and do?”

“When I first started practicing this spell, it was difficult for me to stay in the past for very long. It got better the more I attempted it, but the longest I managed to stay was two hours.” Mallory reappears, holding three familiar items. “Even then, the entire time it felt like there was a rope tied around me, constantly trying to tug me back to my time. I don’t feel that at all now.”

“I don’t, either.”

“I think it’s because we cast the spell together. After all, who on Earth is more powerful than the Supreme and the Antichrist?”

The answer? Nobody, unless one of the divine forces decided to step foot on the mortal coil.

“So you don’t think there’s any danger of us being pulled back to our present before I’m able to meet with Papa Legba tonight?” Michael asks.

“I don’t. As for your second question, there are no ‘rules’ as to how you need to act. At least, I don’t think there are. Just…remember that we’re in a very crucial time right now, and that everything you do tonight that differentiates from the original timeline will have an effect on the outcome we’re trying to achieve.”

Michael nods. “Try not to fuck up too badly, got it.”

“Hey, things can’t go as terribly as they did the last time we were here,” Mallory points out cheekily, laughing at Michael’s scowl. “C’mon, you kind of deserve it.”

“I do,” Michael concedes with a sigh.

Mallory hands Michael a box of Cuban cigars and a pouch of mandrake with her right hand, her left holding the lethal-to-Michael charm away from Michael to prevent any accidents. Before he can take them, she grabs his wrist and waits until he looks at her again. “You’ve got this, alright? I have faith in you.���

“Thank you. None of this would be happening without you—you’re the reason I have a second chance.”

“You can thank me after tonight.”

This time, it’s Michael who uses his powers to transmute them back to the backyard. You’re still in the hammock and idly scrolling your phone, only looking up when you hear the air near you shift.

“Back so soon?” you ask.

“Try to sound a bit less excited, yeah?” Mallory teases, holding the charm out for you to take. “Here, this is for you to hold on to tonight. Papa Legba shouldn’t try anything; he’s an honorable being who typically doesn’t take what has not been explicitly given to him. Still, it never hurts to have a little extra protection.”

“It’s pretty,” you note, holding it out to show Michael.

Mallory puts her hand out to stop you. “It’s a charm to protect you against beings that are not of this plane, as well as those descended from said beings. I think you’d prefer not to zap Michael to Hell.”

You pretend to think for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. He’s too cute to get rid of.”

Michael can’t help himself from blushing at the compliment. He’s always been easily flattered, especially when you’re the one doing the flattering. Before anything else can be said, a younger girl appears at the back door. “Miss Mallory? Miss Zoe’s looking for you, somethin’ ‘bout a book you have.”

“Thank you, Abby, I’ll be in shortly.” When the girl runs back through the house, Mallory sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Duty calls, I guess. Try not to have too much fun tonight.”

“No promises,” you say cheerfully.

Before she goes, Mallory pulls you into a hug. “I love you. Be safe, alright?”

“I will. I love you too, Mal.”

Mallory looks at Michael just before she ducks inside, her expression reiterating everything she previously said—that tonight is crucial, that every move he makes now matters, and that she has faith in him. Then she’s gone, and Michael’s turning back to you.

“I was thinking hotel first so that we could freshen up. Does that sound good to you?” Michael asks.

“Sounds perfect. I wouldn’t mind a shower right now.” Your nose wrinkles. “I smell like airplane.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing you can smell like,” Michael says, holding his hand out for you to take so that he can transmute to the hotel.

“Says you.” You grab Michael’s hand, and he squeezes just for the small joy of feeling you squeeze back.

The curious thing about going back in time, specifically to an event that he’s already lived through, is that it feels a lot like being an actor in a play. The motions and words are familiar, and Michael has to put in a bit of effort if he wants to say or do something different than what he already said or did. The deja vu here is strong and recurring, and it takes him a second to get over the feeling time and time again—deja vu about the deja vu; who else can say they’ve experienced such phenomena?

Still, there are more positives in repeating this time than just the obvious one of, y’know, being able to change his major mistake. He’s also able to remember to take everything in, to simply watch and not miss what he once believed to be mundane. 

He’s able to fully enjoy the delight that you display upon finding out what his surprise is, as well as feel proud that he knows you so well. He’s happy to follow you around while you indulge your curiosities, watching you as you stop at each stand and peruse the offerings. He admires how much thought you put into what gift you’ll be buying for Kate as thanks for watching your cat.

(He’s pleased on your and Mallory’s behalf that you’ll have the third member of your trio back, even though you’ll never know that you were missing her.)

It’s thrilling to be walking hand in hand with you once more, to enjoy your closeness and being in love. Michael’s perfectly content to be pulled along by you, to answer your questions about what he thinks about this or that item, to allow you to feed him a beignet. This time, he doesn’t waste a moment of opportunity and kisses the powdered sugar off of your lips while feeling your smile. 

This trip truly was perfect before that fateful meeting, and to get to relive it is a gift. He falls easily into his “role,” parroting those familiar lines about the beauty of New Orleans and your potential grad school options while basking in long-forgotten normalcy. When you stand up, Michael has to hide a smile, knowing what’s coming next. You turn back to him with your hands cupped around something.

“Here, hold out your hands,” you instruct.

Michael does as asked, dutifully waiting for you to deposit your prize into his waiting hands. A fat firefly lazily buzzes around, and he smiles at the sight as it bumps into his hands over and over again. He glances up to see you looking down, not at the firefly, but at him, with a grin on your face. After a few moments, the firefly finds its way out of his hands and back to the others in the grass.

“You should try and catch one!” you suggest.

Where before, Michael allowed the buzzing of his phone alarm to stop the fun, now, he simply silences it and gets up to join you. He’s not very good at it, and he misses more times than he’d care to admit, but it’s worth it for your laughter and encouragement. Plus, it is pretty satisfying to finally catch one and hold it up for you to see.

You and Michael leave the open-air market ten minutes later than he was originally planning on, but it was more than worth it. The walk to Dinah’s studio is short, made even more pleasant by the sky lighting up as the sun sets and the warm, slightly muggy air.

“Did you have fun?” you ask.

“I think I’m supposed to be asking you that, since I’m the one who planned the date. But yes, I did.”

“Good. I did too.”

“Then I call this date a success.” 

You’re happy with that answer, satisfied to walk in companionable silence. Michael, on the other hand, is wracked with guilt now that there’s a moment of quiet amidst all the chaos that he’s found himself thrown into since the moment he opened his eyes in the past.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

“For what?” In this time, you believe that there’s nothing for him to apologize for. For Michael to be able to live with himself though, he needs to apologize.

“I know I’ve been…off since we saw Cordelia. And I know that you were really shaken up by the Cooperative meeting that I took you to.” You look at him in surprise, and he shrugs. “What? I notice things.”

“I was shaken up,” you admit. “It was scary hearing that you want to end the world so soon, and that there are concrete plans for you to do so. Scarier still knowing that your father’s watching your progress.”

“I know, which is why I’m sorry.” 

I’m sorry that I hurt you in so many different ways, he thinks, mentally apologizing for the things he truly wants to say sorry for. I’m sorry that I killed everybody you ever loved, and that I became someone you would have hated were you not forced to love me. I’m sorry that I got you killed, and that I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“Things are going to be different from now on.”

There’s a hope in your eyes that Michael doesn’t feel like he deserves to have directed towards him. “Really?”

He nods, wanting so badly to reveal his hand, but being unable to do so. Instead, he hopes that you know how sincere he is when he says, “I promise.”

You’ve reached Dinah’s studio, the Voodoo Queen throwing open the door impatiently before Michael can get his hand on the handle.

“You’re late.” Dinah levels Michael with a glare. She’s not that upset, he knows, not when she’s got an extra hundred thousand currently sitting in her bank account.

“Sorry, we got lost,” he lies. You turn your face into his shoulder, coughing to hide your laugh.

“Mhm. Let’s go, I got places to be after this.” She walks towards the back. “And lock the door behind you!”

Through Dinah’s dressing room is another, smaller room—where she conducts her real business. There are candles on various surfaces throughout the room, and the main table, ringed with four chairs, is covered with a red cloth.

Michael pulls out a chair for you to sit in and makes sure that you’re comfortable before pushing you toward the table and taking his seat next to you. You watch Dinah move around the room in a whirl of colors, gathering the last items needed for tonight’s ritual. Your head tilts curiously when she pulls out a match and strikes it into a flame, and he braces himself against yet another bout of deja vu.

“It’s a part of the ritual,” he whispers in your ear, feeling you nod.

Once all of the candles are lit by Dinah’s own hand, the voodoo queen sits down in the chair on his other side. She studies you harshly for a moment, making you squirm under her scrutiny, before looking at Michael. “You sure that you want your honey in here to meet Papa? After all, she’s nothing but a pretty little mortal.”

He smirks. If there’s one lesson he can take away from those eighteen long months, it’s that you’re so much more than that. You’re determined, unflinching in your morals, and willing to face down any of your fears to do what’s right.

“I assure you, she can more than handle herself.”

You smile nervously at Michael, and he winks at you in what he hopes is a comforting way. His eyes are drawn down to your lap, where your hands are shaking. While Dinah grabs one of his hands to start the ritual, he uses his free one to hold one of yours. Your smile softens, and you mouth, “Thank you.”

She turns his hand so it’s facing palm-up, and takes a deep breath in before beginning to knock on his wrist. After she does so, she places her wrist against his briefly before swiping up a bottle of liquor from the table. The amber liquid is poured into a copper mug, and Dinah brings it up above her head in order to pray to it.

“Papa Legba,” she begins. “Ouvrier barrier pour moi agoe.”

This chant is repeated twice more, but it only takes her invoking him the second time for the shadow of a tall figure wearing what looks to be a top hat to rise against the blank canvas of the wall. As Dinah chants for the third and final time, a cold wind sweeps through the room and brings with it an echoing, deep laugh and the sound of bones clinking together.

Michael hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Papa Legba before this night. He heard plenty of stories, of course, but Papa Legba was notoriously hard to get an audience with, even when one was the Antichrist. 

Like many demons, Papa Legba looks like a normal man at first glance. He appears carrying a cane and wearing a fine suit, a top hat decorated with tiny skulls and feathers atop his head. A necklace made of beads and claws rests around his neck, and his long cloak sweeps along the floor. That’s where the human similarities end. White paint covers the top half of his face, and his blood-red eyes look upon the trio assembled before him with delight as he grabs the cup from Dinah and drains it.

“Dinah Stevens! Calling upon me so soon after our last…chat, eh?” He looks down at a couple of cigars sitting on top of a decorative silver plate and hums. “Mm, lucky for you that I cannot resist Cuban cigars, Mambo.”

The empty cup is discarded for one of the cigars, which he holds to his nose in order to properly enjoy it before scratching one of his nails against the end and lighting it. The cherry glows red as he takes a couple of deep puffs, the air growing hot around you as the shadows surrounding him morph in that distinct, sentient way—the shadows of souls now belonging to Papa.

Papa Legba takes a seat in the chair next to you, stretching out languidly. You scooch your chair closer to Michael, and he fights the urge to wrap his arm around you.

“The Antichrist – and his little wife!” Papa Legba greets, his voice echoing and layering on top of itself. 

Michael nods in a show of deference, and you do the same. “Papa Legba,” he says. You jump slightly, his “otherworldly” voice surprising you.

“I am sorry that I could not attend the wedding festivities, mes chers.” He grins at both of you, his gold tooth glinting in the candlelight. “A little drama with your papa, you see. But the entire Underworld was very much abuzz at news of the nuptials, I assure you.”

“We appreciate your well wishes.” You remain silent, choosing instead to smile and nod in agreement. “I assume you know why I asked Dinah to facilitate this meeting?”

Papa Legba shakes his head, but the smirk on his face gives off the feeling that he knows exactly why he’s here. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“You’ve abandoned your post,” Michael reminds him before deciding to go off-script. “And I’m guessing you have ulterior motives beyond becoming bored with your function.”

Papa laughs. “Ah, you’re a smart little Antichrist! Correct, this is the outcome I was hoping to achieve as a result of my actions.”

“Well, you certainly got my attention. Why go to all this trouble?” Michael already knows the answer, of course. But everybody in this room has a part to play in his plan, even though they don’t know it.

“The lords of Hell are not too pleased with the current plans. Ending the world?” He tuts and shakes his head. “Now, that just takes all of the fun out of everything. Who will barter with me when the only souls left on Earth are devoted followers of Satan or half-dead?”

“So you’re the messenger.”

“I’ll confess, I have been sent by my fellow demons to attempt to sway you. For some reason, they think that I am the best public speaker.” He puts a hand to his chest as if he’s touched by the sentiment.

“And how are you attempting to sway me?”

“My dear boy, I am here to convince you not to start an apocalypse.”

This is the moment where it all went wrong. Michael let his anger get the best of him, his need to please his father ruling his emotions and actions. Briefly, he thinks of the butterfly effect, which you taught him while learning it in a class last semester. The belief is that every choice, and every action, no matter how big or small, can set a person on a hundred different courses. He’s seen the course that was taken when he lashed out. Now, he’s choosing rationality, and he’s excited to see what course that leads everybody down.

“You’ll be happy to learn that it will take far less convincing than you originally thought,” Michael says. Next to him, you gasp.

Papa Legba looks simultaneously surprised and pleased. “Really?”

“Recently, I’ve been made aware of some new developments regarding my father and the nuclear annihilation course that we’ve been working on. Now, I’m interested in exploring other avenues.”

Papa Legba’s red eyes are so focused on Michael that it’s even beginning to make him feel a little uncomfortable. “So I may tell my friends that they will get to play with their food for the foreseeable future?”

“Yes, I would say that’s a pretty accurate statement,” Michael says with a nod.

“You have just made many of the legions of Hell very pleased, young master.” His gold tooth glints in the candlelight as he grins, pulling a card out of thin air and presenting it to Michael between his long fingers. “You may call upon me whenever you need so that my friends and I may help you achieve your goal; we are at your disposal.”

Michael takes it gratefully. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” Papa Legba stands and takes the last cigar off of the table with him, sliding it up the sleeve of his coat until it disappears. “Until next time.”

With a gust of wind that blows out all of the candles and the clinking of bones, he turns and melts into his shadows. Shortly after, the lights overhead flicker on, bathing the room in reality once more. Dinah rolls her neck with a groan, taking a moment to collect herself after the strain of the summoning.

“Well, I guess you do have some sort of a spine,” she declares, standing and smudging the symbols she had made at the doorway. 

“A backhanded compliment, but one that I’ll take.”

“Are we done here? I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve got places to be.”

Michael rolls his eyes. She truly is just a terrible person, apocalypse or not. “Yes, we’re done.” 

You’ve been silent since Michael revealed that he wasn’t keen on ending the world, and you remain that way now. Michael gently pulls you from your chair, and you follow him dazedly, letting him handle the goodbyes as you digest everything that’s just happened. Michael can’t blame you in the slightest; he knows that it seems like a jarring and sudden change, especially when the plans to bomb the world are so concrete and detailed.

About halfway down the block from Dinah’s studio—Michael thought that a walk in the cooler night air might do you more good than transmuting—you finally find something to say. “What the hell was that?”

“I told you that things were going to be different.”

“I assumed you meant, like, that you were going to try and push off zero hour a little bit more!” You finally look at him, cautiously and hopefully. “What about your plan? You’ve wanted to end the world for a while now. This is what you and the Cooperative have been working towards since before we even got married.”

“No, that’s not what I want. What I want is a life with you. I want us to actually travel the world together. I want us to experience new things. I want to watch you chase your dreams. I want to develop dreams of my own.”

It’s the first time Michael’s admitted that last sentence to anybody beyond his thoughts in the middle of the night. Even before the end of the world, he watched with envy as you and your friends and fellow students went about your lives, excited for futures and possibilities that seemed endless. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he wanted that for himself, that he wanted to be more than just the Antichrist. While the original meeting with Papa Legba forced him to put that want to the side in favor of accomplishing what he believed to be his destiny, this do-over has afforded him another chance to discover his own dreams.

“Did you know that my father isn’t even the one who picked out the current apocalypse plan?” he asks.

“He’s not?”

Michael shakes his head. “I recently found out that it was the two idiots at Kineros who built the new Ms. Mead. They hacked into Ms. Mead and planted the idea, convincing a vulnerable, naive Antichrist that fire and blood were the only ways to end the world and make Satan proud. All because they were pissed at minor inconveniences and wanted to ‘wipe the slate clean’.”

As Michael says this, he makes a mental note to kill those two. What? He’s still the Antichrist, after all.

“All Satan wants is to win this millennia-long, metaphysical chess game that he’s playing with God. He doesn’t care what I do, so long as I get him some ‘wins’. And Papa Legba was right. If I were to end the world, Satan would win…for a time. But then the rules would be changed, the board reset, and where would that leave me? I’d have done all this, ruined our, and everybody’s, lives for nothing.”

“So this is real? You’re not ending the world anymore?” you check.

“Not ending the world anymore,” Michael confirms. “We’ll find some other way to sow chaos, I’m sure. In due time. For now, I’m happy to wait and—”

He’s cut off when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips to yours. In the eighteen months he’s just lived through, he can’t remember the last time you initiated a kiss. Now, he eagerly reciprocates, kissing back and hoping that you can feel all of his apologies and promises through his actions. He hopes that, from now on, he’ll never have to go more than a day without kissing you again.

When you pull away from Michael, there are tears running down your face. His heart twists at the sight. How had he not known that you were in so much fear about what was going to happen, that you and Mallory were working behind the scenes to try and find a way to change his mind? 

“Thank you,” you say, lifting your hands up to wipe your face clean; a futile task, since you keep crying from relief. “Thank you so much.”

“I love you.” Michael’s earnest in his declaration, never wanting you to forget this fact…or to give you a reason to. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to scare you in this way, to cause you this anguish.”

“I know. You were just doing what you thought you were supposed to do. But you’ve changed, and I’m so proud of you for that.” You always know just the right thing to say, the right way to encourage him. He’s so thankful to have that back.

“I love you,” Michael says again. He’ll say it every hour for the rest of his life, if it means you’ll smile at him the way that you currently are.

“I love you, too.” He kisses you again, there under the streetlights on a beautiful, fall night in New Orleans, and is reminded that there are so many things to love and appreciate about humanity.

Michael may not make it to Heaven when he dies. But right now, in your arms, he’s found the closest thing to it. And nothing will ever make him give it up again.

•••

@ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @nsainmoonchild @redroses07 @xo-angel-ox @littleangel4996 @iamlivingforturner @thatonehumanbeing05 @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene

[stuffforthestash]

Modern Academic AU I Guess?

Got the idea of professor Raphael stuck in my damned brain all morning, so here's hoping writing thoughts down will banish him back to the hells yeah? Edit: There is now a Part 2 and Part 3 __________________________ Raphael - School of Law, obvs. Teaches courses on contract law and legal ethics. He has a reputation for being the kind of asshole professor that can make or break your academic career, and the fact he's tenured is likely the only reason he hasn't been fired over the countless reports of student blackmail and harassment. Gale - Dep't of Literature. His classes are all niche topics like "Magic, Myth, & The Power Of Metaphor", "From Merlin To Dumbledore: A Historical Look At The Wizard's Role In Storytelling", and "The Ancient Art of Flyting", and they're extremely popular. He loves his job, the students love him, but he's rubbed a lot of his colleagues the wrong way. Astarion - School of Theater & Music. Teaches the 101 level acting course and has a rep for being absolutely brutal, but his methods are undeniably effective. Also teaches stage combat workshops, and is constantly on thin ice with the admin for the way he encourages the gaggle of students that started a fan club for him. Wyll - Health Sciences. He's a practicing physical therapist who was invited to also teach part time, due to having gained a reputation as a leading specialist in working with underserved minorities and victims of trauma. His classes are niche and can be hard to get into due to limited availability. Knows Astarion because they're both in HEMA, and sometimes helps with the combat workshops Karlach - Women's rugby coach and former pro-athlete who had to retire after a chest injury. Is also in HEMA, and was inspired by her buddy Wyll to also pursue Phys. Therapy as a career shift. Shadowheart - Grad student doing her thesis on some obscure theological topic, teaches a generic 101 level religious studies class and is obviously only there because the school requires her to put in the hours. Lae'zel - Also a grad student, transferred from overseas. Studying Sports Management and was assigned as an assistant coach to Karlach, except she's in ASC and is constantly making digs about how their practices are vastly superior to HEMA's foolishness. Halsin - Environmental Science. He's the department chair, and teaches courses on conservationism and land management. All his courses are out in the field though, which means he's never on campus and is nearly impossible to get hold of. He hates being the dep't chair, and he only reason he even accepted the position is because nobody else would. Jaheira - Facilities director, not a teacher. Always somehow knows everything that's happening on campus, has contacts everywhere for anything you could want done, and is the person you least want to piss off. Minsc is her shadow, nobody's even entirely sure if he actually works here but is too afraid of Jaheira to ask. And if you actually made it this far, well.. thanks for reading? I'm so sorry? But also share your thoughts! And lemme know if there's any other characters worth doing a 2nd post for.