#I CAST STAY YOUNG SPELL

[echoes-in-echoclan]

Kestrelstar, how do you feel about seeing your son all grown up?

[hannaxjo]

Alan Rickman, David Thewlis, Gary Oldman and all those are iconic in their roles in Harry Potter, but I’ll always be a bit sad about that casting, because having that ‘Marauders era’ cast be age appropriate would’ve just been so much better for the story.

Sirius wasn’t this old man who spent 12 years in Azkaban, no he got locked up at 21. He spent almost third of his life in a cell. He wasn’t this wise father figure to Harry, he was a reckless thirty-something who never really got the chance to mature past 21.

Remus was an exhausted, bone deep tired man carrying both physical and mental scars from the suffering he went through. Because he’s a werewolf, because of the war, because he lost all of his friends. And he’s only 33 when first introduced.

And Snape. Snape wasn’t an old bitter man who just hated everyone and enjoyed being antagonistic. He was 31 in Harry’s first year. He began to work for Voldemort as a teen, and as a double agent at 20. He’s a thirty-something bitter man, who never got to really live or make real connections. From Harry’s perspective he’s scary and intimidating, but really he’s just kinda…sad and pathetic. And then especially that scene where Snape is begging Dumbledore to help save Lily, and promising anything in return. (Because apparently Dumbledore needs something in return…for saving people.) He’s twenty. Barely out of his teens. Rickman was good in that scene, but having someone who actually looks twenty, would better show how scared, young, guilty and just desperate he was. That might not put Dumbledore in such a good light, though.

And then, the characters I think would’ve been the most important to cast age appropriately. And most people probably already agree and know who I’m talking about. James and Lily. They were 21 when they died. When Harry sees them in the mirror of Erised, they’re 10 years older than him. That’s the age difference Ron has with Bill. In that scene I might understand somewhat them being in their thirties, because that’s what Harry wants. He wants his life with his parents, he wants to have been raised by them. Though, I don’t know if the mirror could know what they might’ve looked like in their thirties, since they didn’t live that long. But then, in the cemetery when Voldemort’s wand spits the last spells cast, we see Lily and James as they were. 21. They’re telling their son to hold on just a moment longer. And they are 7 years older than him. In Deathly Hallows, Harry sees Voldemort kill them. They’re not this happy couple who’s got to love each other for a long time, only to have that happiness torn from them, no they started at Hogwarts ten years ago. They’re 21, and they’ve barely tasted that happiness. At the end of the book Harry talks to his parents. They comfort him and promise to stay with him, as he goes to die. Harry’s seventeen. James and Lily are four years older than him.

It wouldn’t have felt as nice. Harry being comforted by someone who looks almost his age. But it wasn’t nice. It was pretty tragic. Casting people who look 21, would’ve really made it land on the audience. It was a tragedy. They were barely adults.

[distantdarlings]

OUT OF IT // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus

(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)

- - -

The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.

You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.

After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.

You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.

A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.

Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.

You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.

A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.

“How are you, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.

“It was good. What about you?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.

You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.

“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.

You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.

“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.

“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.

It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.

“Hello, friends!”

The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.

“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.

“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.

Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.

You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.

***

That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.

Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.

You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.

***

The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.

And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.

You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.

“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.

“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.

Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.

“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.

His touch against you was almost too much to bear.

You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.

These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.

You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.

You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.

Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.

Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.

Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.

You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.

You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.

A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.

Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.

Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.

“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.

“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”

His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.

He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.

“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.

His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.

“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.

Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.

“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.

What a stupid thing to ask.

“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.

“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”

Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.

He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.

His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.

Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.

“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.

At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.

His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.

After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.

“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.

With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.

With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.

His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.

His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.

With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.

A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.

His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.

As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.

“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.

“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.

The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.

He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.

His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.

Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.

His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.

He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.

“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.

The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.

Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.

With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.

He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.

Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.

If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.

He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.

He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.

Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.

There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.

When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.

The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.

Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.

When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.

He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.

One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.

It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.

The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.

With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.

And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.

Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.

As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.

He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.

“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”

He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.

He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.

“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.

“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.

“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.

“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.

“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.

“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.

“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”

“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”

He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.

One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout , @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33 , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @abaker74, @ilovehotmenandwoman, @kissesbyarabella, @synicaljah (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a DM! Thanks!)

[spacebarbarianweird]

Astarion x f!reader. We Shall Meet Again

Read on AO3

Astarion and Tav are talking about life and death and end up talking about children tags: fluff, comfort, conversation about death and mortality Astarion mentions he wants to step into the sunlight once Tav dies so consider it a trigger warning Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

"Please, Astarion, I can walk on my own!" You try to free yourself, but the vampire drags you on his shoulders like a lifeless sack.

"No, you can't," he replies.

You let out a sigh of frustration. If only Astarion could see your expression, he would witness your disappointment.

The task seemed simple enough. The villagers promised a reward for getting rid of a troublesome troll. It should have been a routine quest for a pair of seasoned adventurers like you. And it had been until the troll hurled you against a tree. Astarion swiftly dealt with the monster, then hoisted you onto his shoulders, and now the two of you were making your way back to the village to get the reward.

"Please, just put me down," you implore.

"Your leg is broken," Astarion insists.

"No, it's not!" You let out a cry of pain as he touches the injured limb. "Fine, you win!"

Astarion chuckles softly as you continue to observe the grass and flowers below. Eventually, the fatigue overtakes you, causing you to black out. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself back in the village.

"We've agreed on five golden coins! Take your reward and go!"

"Yes, but my wife broke her leg, and now I must pay the healer," Astarion argues with a rogue smile. "Eight golden coins."

"Six! We haven't paid the tithe yet!"

"Seven. And your village healer cures her for free."

"Fine! But I don't want to see either of you ever again!"

"It can be arranged!"

The village chief throws a sack of gold to Astarion, and the vampire performs a theatrical bow as if on a stage. Then, he approaches you and gently kisses your forehead, his lips curving into a grin, though a hint of concern lingers in his crimson eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm too young to die just yet," you say as you caress his left cheek, and he closes his eyes, savoring the touch like a content cat.

"I know, but when that thing threw you at the tree, I thought for a second," he stumbles, his voice tinged with worry. "I thought you wouldn't get up."

You remember the wave of pain, the buzz in your ears, and Astarion kneeling beside you, carefully letting you drink a healing potion. He held you gently, his worry palpable as he waited for the potion to mend at least some damage.

He worries sick every time you get hurt. So do you - Astarion doesn't take physical damage easily.

The healer finally arrives, visibly annoyed that he was woken up in the middle of the night. He casts a spell on your leg, and you hear a gruesome sound as the bones fuse back together.

"You could at least be grateful for slaying that troll," you mutter.

The healer lets out a string of curses and leaves.

"Well, I think it's best if we find a spot to make camp before the sunrise," Astarion says.

"I don't think it would be safe to stay in the village anyway. They might start suspecting you're a vampire," you reply as the houses fade into the distance.

"Ungrateful lot," he chuckles.

You take his hand, and you together go into the night. It's been five years since you met at the shipwreck, five years since your unlikely union evolved into something deeper. You haven't grown tired of each other; if anything, you've grown closer, and you can't imagine spending a single night without Astarion by your side.

You are not even sure if you can fall asleep without him cuddling you.

You affectionately refer to each other as "wife" and "husband," even though there was no formal ceremony. One day, Astarion slipped a ring he'd found in a dungeon onto your finger, and you did the same after obtaining a similar one. It was as simple as that.

… The two of you stop and set up a tent as the skies lighten. The tent is crafted from thick, black material and reinforced with a darkness spell - a perfect daylight shelter for a vampire.

You've grown accustomed to the routine. At sunrise, you both go to sleep. When you wake up well past noon, Astarion stays inside, engrossed in the books you've collected on your adventures, while you head out to hunt. But sometimes, you keep the vampire company as he reads aloud.

And once the sun sets, you hit the road again. Both of you share the desire to see the world, and you want to see it together.

Exhausted from a long day of walking and the battle with the troll, you immediately fall asleep. When you wake up, you see Astarion sitting beside you, reading one of his books. The rain is pounding the tent and you feel the cold.

"Good morning," you whisper, and he runs his gentle fingers through your hair. His crimson eyes are brimming with love, but you detect an underlying unease in him.

You've always respected his privacy, but you can't help but notice his recent unease.

"Is everything all right? Do you want to talk?" You sit up, peering at the small entrance tent, shivering.

"It seems I can't keep any secrets from you," he sighs in relief. "I just… got scared yesterday. When that thing threw you. When you fell. Damn, you looked like a ragdoll! Then the troll tried to pick you up to smash you again. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to save you. That you would die."

You say nothing, resting your head on his shoulder and listening to his steady breathing.

"That's stupid. You're here. Everything is great," he says.

You sense that he doesn't honestly believe it. Mortality. Your mortality is what's troubling him. He's undead, immortal. He can only die if someone kills him or if he steps into the sun. But you will grow old and eventually pass away if you're not killed earlier.

A sudden urge to leave the tent and return at sunset washes over you, but you suppress it. You both need to address this, no matter how uncomfortable it is.

"What do you think you will do when I die?" you ask him gently.

He stares at you in horror and disbelief, as if he can't believe you've broached this topic.

"I - I don't want to have this conversation," he mutters.

"Astarion, please. We have to talk about this. My love, I know it makes you uncomfortable, but we must discuss it."

He clenches his teeth. "You can't even comprehend how much."

"I actually can because you don't seem to care about your safety, and there's a very high chance I could end up a vampire widow."

You sit before him, taking his hands and gently tracing the knuckles.

He remains silent, and the only sound is that of raindrops outside. The comfort of the warm tent makes you decide not to venture into the rain.

"I will step into the sun once you die. It's not up for discussion," he says resolutely. "I'll bid you farewell, go outside, and see the sunshine one last time. Don't worry. I'll be with you till the end."

A knot forms in your stomach as you suddenly envision Astarion cradling your lifeless body, waiting for the sun to rise.

"Don't," you abruptly say. "Don't do this."

"Well, it won't be up to you to decide," he says, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Astarion turns his head away, a signal that he wants to be alone with his thoughts.

"Okay, I'll go for a walk," you suggest, wanting some fresh air, but he grabs your hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't want you to catch a cold," he insists, pulling you closer. You rest your head against his chest and you sit together in silence, lost in your thoughts.

"Astarion," you whisper. "Let me tell you something."

"If it's about death again, I'm not interested."

You hug him tightly. "No, it's about… the opposite, actually."

You carefully choose your words. "My people… My people believe in rebirth. We believe that we don't stay dead forever."

You pause, studying Astarion's face, but his pale features remain unreadable.

"When I was little, I was told that our souls come back. In a century, in a millennium. Memories return, and an old personality reawakens. It only happens to some; some are forgotten and never return. That's why we tell stories about our deceased ancestors – to help them find their way back home. Their souls must feel loved to get back."

You hug him even tighter, fearing his reaction.

"Astarion, my love, please, don't step into the sun when I die. Live. I want you to live, see the lands we won't see together, and experience things we won't experience together."

He sobs, and you look up to see his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his beautiful face. You gently stroke his white curls.

"I want you to talk about me, to tell people stories about my adventures, about who I was. You love me deeply, and if my people are right about souls and resurrection, your memories will be the most powerful beacon in the darkest sea of death."

You release Astarion, who still avoids looking at you directly, seemingly embarrassed about his tears.

"And when that time comes, I will find you. I will embark on a quest to seek my vampire husband, and we shall meet again. You will tell me everything about the places you've visited and your adventures. People you've met, quests you've completed. Everything."

You cup Astarion's face, making him meet your gaze.

"Promise me that, my love. Promise me you will keep living." You kiss his forehead, and your heart swells when you see his smile.

"I promise," he says. "I promise I will keep going."

He lets his tears go and you are proud of him for not concealing the emotions. Then he cocks his heads and grins.

"I'll take your word for that because if I'm reincarnated and never find you, I'll be truly upset," you playfully remark.

"So will I if I keep my promise and you never return," he chuckles.

You plant kisses on his cheeks and share a lighthearted laugh.

"Are you going outside?" he asks. "It seems like it's not raining anymore."

He returns to the book he was reading.

"Go, I don't want you to stay locked in here," he insists.

"Nah, it's too cold. I'd better stay inside with you. What are you even reading there?" You try to snatch the book from his hands, but he closes it and attempts to put it away. "Since when are you embarrassed about your reading preferences?"

You try to grab the heavy black volume, but Astarion catches you and playfully puts you on your back, causing uncontrollable giggles. Now, you can't get up but still manage to stretch your hand toward the book.

"What is this?" You open it. "Dhampirs share many qualities with vampires. They walk the line between living and dead, gain heightened abilities, and have a life-draining bite. Children of vampires and mortals, they are few in number…"

You stumble. Children of vampires and mortals…

Astarion blushes. "I found this book in the troll lair. I never knew that vampires could have children. Like, real children, not cursed spawns."

You open another page with pictures depicting a young human woman with vampire fangs.

"It's written that dhampirs aren't hurt by the sun" he continues. "And they don't need blood to survive. They can easily blend with mortals, but at the same time, they are strong as the undead," he pauses. "It's like being a vampire without downsides."

Half-vampires. Dhampirs. You vaguely remember hearing about them many years ago. Is it possible for you and Astarion to have a child? And would it be right to bring a dhampir into this world?

"Now you're thinking about it too," Astarion observes.

"Guilty," you admit, still lying beneath him. You touch his back, feeling the scars through his shirt. He smiles, enjoying the sensation.

"Speaking of mortality and my promise," he continues, "I think I'll find it easier not to step into the sunlight if I have someone to care for. It would be cruel," he kisses you. "To leave a child without both parents."

You giggle.

"Am I getting this correct? You want me to give birth to a silver-curled dhampir so you won't be lonely?" you tease, pressing Astarion tighter. He doesn't answer, too occupied with undressing you.

A child. Your mind pictures a little girl who resembles both you and Astarion. A progeny. Someone to carry a piece of you both into the future.

"I don't mind," you finally say. "I actually really want this."

[hoshinasblade]

"time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me / i know i could have loved you but you wouldn't let me / you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you" but make it about hoshina soshiro

when hoshina soshiro ended things with you, he said he did it because you deserve more than to be a young widow.

you would have called bullshit, but you recognise the truth is not far from his argument - defense force officers sometimes succumb to fatal injuries during kaiju attacks, and hoshina may be a skilled swordsman, but he isn't a god. as if the reason isn't enough, you knew that if he had wanted to stay with you despite being aware of the possibility of him dying in the field, he would have.

ten days before your third anniversary, hoshina abandoned your life and did not leave any traces at all. you did not know whether to be thankful that he was the one to tell your mutual friends of what transpired between you two.

it should have relieved hoshina; not being tied up in a relationship gave him more freedom to choose for himself - he even agreed to wear the weaponised kaiju no. 10 suit despite the likelihood of his lifespan decreasing because at least this time, he isn't worried that he will be leaving you alone in this world should something tragic happen to him. he's a more effective vice-captain if he doesn't have anything to lose.

really, it should have relieved hoshina but it doesn't.

he still makes his coffee the same way you taught him how to when you were just first seeing each other - two sugar and one cream, because he likes sweet things. everytime his jokes sell among the crowd of new recruits, he would get a flashback of how your laugh would sound like. he doesn't know if it's just in his head because it's been a while since he's seen you, much less heard your laugher. one time, when a particularly brutal kaiju attack occurred in the area close to where you live, hoshina soshiro prayed for the first time since he was a child - begging for any saint who would listen that hopefully you're safe, that you're alive.

really, the breakup should have relieved hoshina but it didn't. sometimes when he is too tired from training he would fall to his bed, his hand would trace the other side of the mattress for you only to find the cold and empty touch of his own blanket.

[starkeysmoon]

MISSED YOU

paring: neteyam sully x omaticaya gender neutral! reader

summary: neteyam sneaks away to see you

warnings: none, fluff!

word count: 1.2K!

request: hi i have a neteyam request :) i’d like to read about neteyam sneaking out to see his secret gf, basically his rebellious era hahah, where instead of doing his duties he goes to see his gf and he is happier with her, not needing to be the perfect son (bonus if the sully family are shocked by his recent behaviour and then meet his gf)

a/n: hey lovely, thank you so much for the request! i’m thinking of making the bonus into a part two, hope that’s alright. (also! my orignal upload got deleted??)

it wasn’t in neteyam’s nature to act like this. disregarding his parents' orders and sneaking around to see you.

however, he couldn't stop thinking about you. especially the laugh that would fall from your lips when he made a joke, the never-ending smile he wore when he was around you, the warmth of your touch, and just the way you made him feel in general.

It was as if you had cast a spell on him that he couldn’t seem to break from, not that he was complaining.

all he knew for certain was that he needed to see you. as a result, he settled to complete his task as soon as possible. his parents, particularly his father, had instructed him to gather twigs and branches for the mreki u'lito (fire pit) tonight.

he hastily gathered the twigs and branches, tying them together before he placed them to the side of a tree and hiding them well. he made a mental note to himself that he would bring them back home later, as he was supposed to.

a sense of guilt filled his chest as he looked back to check on the now-wrapped twigs and branches. his hands trembled a little. his tail swooshed from side to side. debating if he wanted to go through with it or not.

neteyam knew he shouldn’t leave his duties unattended, especially as the eldest son of the family. his parents were counting on him.

he knew it was wrong and that they would be worried if he didn't return soon, but why did being around you feel so right? he let out a huff, shaking his head before walking in the direction of your meeting spot.

neteyam was approaching, walking quickly, but he paused. his ears perked up when he heard familiar sounds of laughter and giggles coming from south the direction of where you were supposed to meet.

he followed instinctively and was met with a surprising sight. you were playing with a plant, the helicoradian to be exact.

he watched you in awe as you touched the leaf, it coiled up and retracted to the ground in response. you let out a soft giggle before moving to the next one.

“(name)!” he called, a smile filling his face. you turned towards the sound of the voice, smiling, before rushing towards the young boy and immediately engulfing him in a hug.

he sighed in contentment at the warmth of your presence. his previous sullen demeanor completely washing away from his body. his hands moved down to your waist and drew you in closer. the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before eventually pulling away.

“that seemed like a lot of fun,” he noted, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“it was.” you answered, your smile widening. “so, what brings you here?” you teased, already knowing the answer.

“a certain someone,” he quipped.

“and where might that certain someone be, neteyam?” you inquired, a smirk now tugging at your lips.

“they happen to be right in front of me,” he says happily, you giggle at his answer as he takes your hands and places them in his own.

“so miss me already, huh?” you teased once more.

“more than anything.” he sighs, his thumb gently caressing your hand.

“you know, it’s only been a day,” you point out, and he laughs in response.

“and a day is already long enough for me to miss you, my love,” he admits, his eyes locked on yours.

your cheeks feel hot at his words and your stomach does a flip, almost as if butterflies had entered your stomach and were fluttering around. “you just can’t seem to get enough of me can you?”

he chuckles at your words. “yes, I truly cannot (name).”

you pull him in for another hug, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his hands wrap around your waist gently. the two of you soaking in each other’s warmth and presence once more.

he always made you feel at ease when he was close to you, and you adored him for it. you peppered soft kisses along his neckline before gazing up to look at your boyfriend to find that he was already looking at you with a grin on his face.

“i see you (name),” he says softly, before planting a gentle peck to your lips.

“i see you too, neteyam.” you beam up at him, noticing how his eyes light up at your words and how you can tell they are filled with so much love and care.

“now, are you up for a quick game of who can close all the helicoradians the fastest?” he challenged with an annoyingly cheeky face, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“oh, you’re on, sully!” you say, rushing towards the helicoradians before you’re pulled back as a hand latches onto the end of your tail.

“hey!” you yelp, swishing your tail out of his grasp. “that’s not fair”

“I never said it had to be fair,” he says, lips curving into a teasing smirk.

“i’ll get you for that!” you threaten.

“go right ahead, (name). i’m right here” he taunts, holding up his hands as if to assert his innocence.

you launch your body onto him, causing the two of you to tumble onto the ground. the helicoradians shrink right under you as the two of you playfully roll around the forest floor trying to topple one another.

it’s a continuous cycle of either one of you on top saying a smug sentence before they get flipped over and their back’s pressed down against the forest floor and they are proven wrong again.

“willing to surrender now, (name?)” neteyam asks, noticing your somewhat tired state, his body now on top of yours pressing you down on the ground.

“no,” you reply, refusing to back down despite the obvious fatigue in your voice.

although your response confirms his suspicions, and he moves away from you before offering his hand, which you gratefully accept.

the first thing you notice when you’re back off the forest floor is neteyam’s body covered with dirt before your eyes flicker to your own.

you gently brush it off yet it does no good, as it creates an even bigger smudge. neteyam moves towards you and helps you brush off the rest of the dirt on your body.

“thank you, neteyam” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, eyes full of gratefulness.

“no worries, my love.” he chuckles, his hand moving to place a braid behind your ear. your cheeks turn into a shade of pink at his motion.

“i really do love you, you know that?” you say, giggling. he nods his head at your words, “and i really love you too.”

the two of you turn around hand in hand to notice that the helicoradian field had coiled and shrunken to the ground.

you both end up bursting into a fit of laughter at each other's competitiveness earlier. “it’s a draw,” you exclaim, and neteyam merely shakes his head. “you wish.”

[honey-milk-depresso]

Hello! May I request Diasomnia boys dealing a very sick S/O? Like they will get sick every month. High fever, vomiting, headaches, blocked nose, sore throat, you name it and they have had that illness before. And they're also very behind on their studies because of this.

I had a friend like that too, and she’s currently in another school but we still talk to each other once in a while. This might be a little bit of my own experience mix in this so hopefully it doesn’t sound weird :”))

Diasomnia looking after a really sick s/o

Malleus Draconia

The smallest of a little sneeze from his precious child of man already makes him panic. Seeing you bed-bound with a runny nose, sore throat and headache, he’s getting an actual heart attack.

How can one be so frail??? Malleus might offered casting long lasting healing spell, or try making an elixir to make you permanently well again that no sickness can touch you no longer. But even you think it’s a bit too much when he elaborates how hard it is to find all the damn ingredients.

But Malleus is insistent. “It’s alright, my dear. I will scour the whole continents to find each ingredient.”

After much convincing from you, he reluctantly agreed to just help make simple, healing potions that can last you for a few days before you need to consume them again from him.

He might also consult Lilia on what he should do to entertain you while your bed-bound, and I swear to the SEVENS that he will bring his whole violin as entertainment while having many other brass instruments playing a whole orchestra of soothing music for you like you’re royalty or something like-

He might’ve also consulted with Silver for help and he told Malleus that you probably only wanted his company. To talk to him while you’re stuck in bed for a while until the potion boils finish so that’s what Malleus do. It’s rather peaceful just sitting there and talking to you quietly. It makes his heart feel at ease and he hopes he makes you feel at peace too. <3

Lilia Vanrouge

He’s experienced in taking care of sick people because he had young Malleus and Silver, so he’s pretty much equip to look after you.

Although Lilia has never quite experienced someone who can REALLY get sick and stay sick for a long time, he’s up for the challenge if it means to care for you. You’re his S/o after all!

Lilia is actually really good! He knows how to make the bed super comfy for you to sleep in, his voice always soothes and calms you down, he always remind you to take your meds and drink lots of water while you’re at it. Maybe he’ll ask Malleus to make you a potion to cure your sickness for a while or do it himself!

Just errr…. Don’t eat his cooking because, well, we all know how ominous it looks. And tastes.

Lilia has the habit of reading bedtime stories to you, mostly because he did that for Silver and Malleus when they were younger and he projects that action into you to comfort and soothe you while you’re sick. After all, you won’t feel better if you’re heart isn’t at ease, either.

When you finally fall asleep, Lilia smiles softly before kissing your forehead, sitting on the chair beside you bed and watch over you. <3

Silver

He panics a little, but the first thing he’ll tell you is to get lots of good rest and sleep.

He also tries to mimic what Lilia would do when he was sick during his younger days: singing you a lullaby, try reading bedtime stories (although he might fall asleep halfway), reminding you to take your meds and drink plenty of water.

Silver may also seek Malleus help in making a potion that could help you recover for a while or even lend one of Lilia’s storybooks to help you.

Would stay around you to be company while you’re bedridden, even if he gets sleepy and tired he’ll never leave your side or stop taking care of you.

Might’ve also tried to cook for you, but he only cooks soup because he doesn’t really know what else he can do. He just hopes it can make you feel better at least.

While you rest in bed, Silver, although succumbing to falling asleep, still holds your hand while you rest as both of you fall into a deep slumber together. <3

Sebek Zigvolt

Panicking beyond belief. How can one be so fragile and sickly?! He can hardly believe it and he doesn’t know what to do when you are bed-bound. The smallest sneeze of you already has him all over you with concern, so with your really sick nature, he’s practically made it a point to just be in your life now. Like he shares with you.

Initially, Sebek might’ve come off a little bit insensitive, saying how you should exercise more or something to build up a better immunity system. However, Lilia taught him otherwise to put you first. He knows the boy cares about you so he’s helping him show care in better ways.

He learns to cook soup, pray to Malleus for help in making a potion for your sickness (which the latter helped obviously), might’ve also pulled off the “I WILL TRAVEL THE WORLD FOR THE RARE POTION INGREDIENTS TO CURE YOU FOR GOOD” thing like Malleus which you have to keep on insisting for him to, I don’t know, not be stupid to get himself killed and he RELUCTANTLY listens to you.

He watches over you despite being tired and despite him not being the most lovey dovey or romantic boyfriend out there, you know he cares about you, maybe much more than you know. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[maybeacloud]

Only The Good Die Young || E. Bridgerton

Summary: Fem!reader is staying with the Bridgertons for the social season and decides to confront Eloise about her feelings.

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: None

<A/N> This is the first piece of fanfiction I have shared with anyone so it might be a bit rough, but if you have any feedback don’t be afraid to comment! Also, English isn’t my first language, sorry about any spelling errors :P

…

It was already past dark and most of the Bridgerton household had retired for the night. Only one person remained, curled up on a small sofa in the drawing room, her nose buried deep in a book. You could not help but stare. You were not sure you could ever get enough of it. Eloise’s hair, which had previously been pinned up, now hung loose around her face, and a burning candle cast a gentle light on her face.

You walked up to her, drawing her attention away from the yellowed parchment. “May I speak to you about something?” You said hesitantly, suddenly too nervous to meet her gaze.

She laughed “Of course you may. You can always come to me.” Her smile was as warm as always, and her eyes looked like deep blue waters in the flickering candlelight. You suddenly felt hot, as if you skin was burning, and you forced yourself to look away.

“If we are to remain friends-“

Eloise cut you off; “Of course we are, what makes you believe that we would not?” She tried to make it sound light hearted, but the words came out sharper than she had intended.

“If we are to remain friends” you started again “I can not keep secrets from you”

You looked down on your friend. Her face had settled in a worried expression. You suddenly regretted bringing up the topic but that was to no avail. You must finish what you started.

“I have these - feelings - that I would like to discuss. And I do not expect you to feel the same way…” at this point you had started pacing back and forth like a trapped animal.

“… but in these past few weeks I have come to know you as someone who is not quick to judge others, and I sincerely hope you will grant me that kindness…” Your steps slowed.

“For I hope I have not misjudged you, ms. Bridgerton.”

As you turned to look at her, your eyes meeting for the first time since you started you rambling, you knew you had to tell her. You could not keep a friendship build on lies.

Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted slightly as if she was wanting to say something. You stood in silence for a moment allowing her time to intervene. But she just tilted her head slightly, her eyebrows furrowing into an expression of worry and confusion.

You realised you had dragged this out for far too long. And you suspected your nervous fidgeting had not helped soothe your friend’s worries.

“Every time I look at you, Eloise, it’s as if my whole world disappears and I am left with nothing but blank space; I am left grasping to find my way back to reality because if I am alone with you my mind will wander to places it should not.” You could not afford to stop talking, for if you did you might not find you way back.

“I am willing to throw away whatever dignity I have if it means I get to hold you, and it scares me. Because I- I have never felt like this before.” That last sentence came out more as a whisper.

Eloise sat still as a statue, unchanged, and for a second you started to wonder if you had imagined the whole thing, but then she moved. She straightened her posture, looked down at the book laying on her lap and hesitated for a moment before fixing her gaze back onto you. You suddenly felt unable to breathe, as if a weight was put on you chest.

Eloise, without breaking eye contact, untangled her bare feet from her nightgown and slowly stood up, meeting you at eye level.

Her face was impossible to read as her expression seemed to change constantly.

“Eloise, I-“ You started to apologise, but all words left you as you felt her hand reach for yours. Her touch was warm, like a small spark that quickly grew into a burning fire. She held onto your hand, still with her eyes fixed on you. And without thinking you took a single step, almost closing the distance between your bodies.

She was close enough for you to feel her warm breaths against your skin and you could not pull your eyes from her face. You were desperate to memorise every freckle on her face, the way the flickering shadows from the candlelight softened her features and then there were her eyes. They were like a frozen lake; idle on the surface, but beneath it lies a deeper water, constantly moving with the current. They wandered across your face before settling on your lips.

“Tell me…“ She trailed of, her voice was low and husky. A shaky breath escaped your lips and she took that as an invitation to start slowly guiding your hand upward until your palm rested against the bare skin right below her collarbone. “…tell me if you want me to stop.”

And with that she fully closed the distance between you, and as your lips met hers you knew that you never wanted her to let go.

…

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Bard-aby <3 except he's only loosely a bard bc i don't subscribe to absolutes <3

rambles:

BARNABY WITH PANTS??? BLASPHEMY!!! however this is a (dnd-inspired) fantasy au so. pants! loose pants tucked into modified boots because no one can tell me No!

based off of Clown's pokemon au human Barn, it seems like he might be a bit of a jewelry guy! he was wearing rings! and had an earring! also i think Barn just looks great w/ some extra shinies, yk yk

since ties aren't really a Thing in fantasy settings, i combined the iconic pattern w/ his vest for a two-in-one. then suspenders bc they fuck severely! his belt buckle is a bone both as a nod to the pattern on his tie / house decoration, and to go along with how Wally has an apple buckle! besties stay twinning!

you can't see it but on his other side he has his pack & his smoking pipe holster, which attaches to his belt! it's very high quality leather that he spent so much money on. his pipe is important to him - he carved it himself out of wood from an important tree from his childhood, so he wants it to be properly stored & protected! he has two kinds of tobacco for it - normal, and magic tobacco that essentially allows him to cast minor spells w/ the smoke

the feathers on his hat are from Ms. Beagle! in my mind he left the farm to go adventuring on a bit of a bad note, but his mama made sure to give him a couple feathers to take with so that she'd always be close <3

he keeps his claws blunt so that he doesn't accidentally scratch people/things, and so that he can play stringed instruments without cutting the strings. while i imagine for this au he plays a wide range, he prefers Loud Handheld Instruments that allow him to sing along. so in mind he has an Accordion here! loud! jaunty! but i imagine he also keeps a recorder in his pack for when Frank needs annoying. (he did have a lute, but he broke it over someone's head in the act of defending Wally's honor)

im still trying to pin down the right balance of colors for his outfit, but! for a little au tidbit - all of his spots are the same two blues as his ears. in this im imagining that he, at a young age, learned a very basic cosmetic spell that allowed him to change his spots color to mimic Ms. Beagle's! he wanted to look like his mama! but by the time he's in his late 20s he no longer changes his spots

ohhhh i forgot to add his pockets. Oh Well

[justsalpals]

Jace knew pain. He could handle that.

No, the worst part of dying was the fear. That split second before the end when pain took a backseat, a fluttering consciousness latching onto the only thing he knew for certain.

This was the end. This was it. No more. Over. Dead. Gone. Finished.

His chest spasmed in wild aborted half-breaths, choking on bloody phlegm his body wanted desperately to expel but lodged in his ragged throat. Fingers twitched as if to form the somatic components for a spell he lacked the energy to cast. The world shifted and sputtered, fading no matter how tightly he tried to grasp it close to his chest.

For all the world it almost felt like being back in high school again, desperately willing his eyes to stay open as the teacher droned on and on about material components even though everyone in class had an arcane focus. Just as he had back then, Jace was powerless to resist as his eyelids drooped and he finally dropped down into the long rest waiting for all adventurers in the end.

Pathetic.

End of the line. So where did that leave him? Caught between divine domains, having never pledged himself to any one divinity. The astral planes, the pits of hell, or even following the innate magic in his blood back to the feywilds of his ancestry?

End. The end. It was the end of him.

Is this all you are?

Was this his legacy? A young and powerful sorcerer, the potential of the universe sparkling at his fingertips, all the world open to him.

Spent the prime of his life getting heckled by fourteen-year-olds who only cared about learning how to cast fireball.

(I can't teach it to you, he always had to explain to the new ones, with their dead eyes and dumb gaping fish mouths. More of a coach. We're just spitballing back and forth what it might Feel Like to have the option of summoning a giant sphere of fire to raze down one's enemies.)

Is this what you're dying for? A handful of self-centered, idiotic, ungrateful brats?

Beyond the veil of death, every nerve in his body dulled to utter numbness, something in Jace's chest pulsed.

For a boss who'd fuck a flaming pigeon out on the bloodrush field before he considered giving you an ounce of respect?

In the darkness of the in between, caught in the steps before final death, the air turned hot and tacky. Blond hair curled limp against his forehead, drenched in sweat, heat clawing across his skin like a furnace trying to burrow its way back home.

The sort of heat that made it hard to think, hard to move, for fear that the slightest twitch would cut through the atmosphere and sear your skin straight from the bone.

Something crimson crackled through the darkness. A feverish crescendo crawling in every direction, hateful and ferocious in every shattering shower of red.

It didn't have to be the end. Not if he didn't let it be.

Get up.

And really, what had the goddamn gall to keep him here? What universe thought he would just roll over and stay down like a good little corpse?

He just had to. Reach out. Had to. Take it.

Get the fuck up, Stardiamond.

A fistful of rubies sparked and flared in Jace's palm, before he tilted his head back and poured them down his open maw.

On the material plane, Jace Stardiamond's eyes snapped open.

Jace thought he'd known what pain was. A lifetime of arcana, adventuring, of teaching highschoolers, he'd taken his fair share of hits over the years. Not like this. Nothing like this.

Jace thought he'd known pain, and he was a goddamn fool.

This

was

agony.

Writhing on the classroom floor, his back arched into an unnatural contortion of joints and limbs. The feral thing tore from Jace's throat could hardly even be called a scream, mangled as it was with a century's worth of rage buried in the name of a paper thin mask. It bubbled from his mouth as limbs thrashed about, eyes rolling back into his head with the anguish of it all.

"There you are."

A hulking fifteen foot shadow loomed over his twitching corpse, greedy eyes simply watching as Jace's fingers began scrambling across his own chest. A spellcaster's fingers, ordinarily so nimble and precise, nails once filed to a perfect smooth arch now ragged and bloodstained as they clawed through the layers of his own scarf and shirt.

He tore and mangled the flesh underneath until fingertips hit jagged gemstone.

"I knew you had it in you, somewhere under that bone deep smarmy front you put on."

Ruby splintered across Jace's skin, crystalized in his collapsed lung, sparkled in the lining of his throat.

"Bitterness, frustration, jealousy, hatred, judgement, call it what you want, but you've always been bursting at the seams with rage. Just waiting for the right person to come along and break the seal."

Flecks of ruby crusted to Jace's lips, pulled back to bare his teeth in a rabid snarl. The giant above only chuckled, the sound of his laughter like the grinding of stone when a whole mountain collapsed inwards.

"Why?" The word barely scraped free from his raw throat, lingering in the palpable heat clogged air.

A large hand gripped Jace's chin to force his gaze upwards, the bones in his jaw straining and cracking with the force of the gesture. Yet above him, Porter just clicked his tongue as if reprimanding a misguided child.

"Because, Stardiamond, you piss me off more than I can even begin to describe." His grin was too wide, too clean, a little too sharp at the edges. "That's holy, in its own sort of way."

[melrodrigo]

When The Night Falls - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday isn’t soft. But when it comes to a certain someone…

Warnings: Angsty fluffy crap mixed together, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: HA! You guys thought I would do something from the poll? I’m an uncontrollable creature. Also, this is semi inspired by ‘reckless’ by madison beer.

Wednesday Addams was not soft. In fact, that was the last word she would ever use to describe herself.

But today, when she had swung open her door, ready to give whoever woke her up at 2 a.m. hell; she was surprised to find out she felt a little bad after seeing your crying figure.

“Wednesday?” You sniffle, swiping at your eyes desperately in an attempt to look somewhat presentable.

The raven-haired girl stares at you blankly, refusing to give away any of the emotions she was feeling.

Eyes all red and puffy, nose tinted pink; she hated to admit it, you look cute.

The thing was, for the past few weeks, Wednesday’s been feeling weird around you.

At first, she thought that maybe you were using your powers to cast a poisonous spell on her. But on further inspection, she realized you were casting a spell on her, just a very different one from what she expected.

It’s a peculiar feeling, having feelings for someone.

She doesn’t think she’s ever really experienced all that “crush” or “love at first sight” nonsense Enid keeps gushing about.

But right now, with you standing in front of her, she thinks she finally feels those funeral flowers budding all throughout her chest, wrapping itself tight around her heart.

“Do you mind if I come in?” You ask timidly.

Wednesday steps back without a second thought, still staring hard as you walk in. She’s suddenly struck with the realization that you came to her first, out of everyone in the whole school, even her bubbly roommate. It makes her heart sing.

You and Enid had a thing going on. The whole school knew that. You weren’t exactly together, but the look on your face when you talked about Enid was enough for Wednesday to keep her mouth shut about her feelings.

But she came to me, Wednesday thinks.

She walks towards you, tapping you softly on the shoulder.

You whirl, and immediately throw yourself at her, letting your whole body engulf hers.

You hear Wednesday let out a quiet gasp and it makes you giggle a little.

You know she’s not uncomfortable, and you know the tap was an invitation or at least an allowance for you to touch her. You have a bit of a reputation for being the only person Wednesday was willing to let hug her, apart from Enid.

Days spent with Enid usually meant days spent with Wednesday, and by now, you were fluent in the language of her.

“What happened so suddenly that you felt the need to wake me in the middle of the night?” She finally asks, failing to sound sympathetic.

She doesn’t expect it to sound mean, and you know that, so you pay her tone no mind.

“I found Enid w-with Ajax.” You tell her, voice cracking at the end of your sentence, tears welling at the corners of your eye.

Wednesday wasn’t an idiot. She knows what “finding them together” means, and despite all her fondness for the young blonde, she can’t help the anger that stirs in her immediately.

Here you were, crying and troubled over her stupid roommate (crying very prettily might she add), and what, Enid was with Ajax? Of all people?

“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. I know how much you adored Enid.” She murmurs, ignoring the instant tugging in her heart at the sight of you wide-eyed and looking up at her.

To her surprise, you giggle a little, and it sends shockwaves through your and her own body.

You reach up gingerly, pausing long enough for Wednesday to refuse your touch if she wants to, but the goth girl stays quiet, and so you brush away some of the bangs that are covering her face.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, staring at her eyes and then her lips. “To be honest with you, that’s not even the whole reason I was crying.”

“Why were you crying then?” She inquires, and you notice her hands flexing at her side.

“I think…I might like someone else. And I was kind of upset, because- I thought Enid really liked me. But I guess not, so it all works out doesn’t it?” You laugh dryly.

Wednesday’s eyes widen at your confession, suddenly feeling squirmish underneath your gaze. Her whole body freezes, and her mouth feels dry.

It would work out if I was your partner, she thinks.

“Relax, Wends.” You murmur, placing your head back down to her chest. Your words seem to calm her down a little.

“It’s funny, I don’t like her anymore, but when she gets with someone else, I get sad. How messed up of me is that?” You tilt your head up, watching Wednesday gulp once before speaking.

“It is a stupid thing to feel.” Is what she answers, racking her brain to think of something better to say.

You hum, and everything goes quiet for a while. You feel safe, in Wednesday’s arms, in her bed, and you don’t care if Enid comes back to the dorm and sees this.

Before you know it, you’re drifting off into some walmart heaven- the smell of Wednesday encompassing you and the softness of her skin pressing against you.

“YN?” She whispers, stirring you from your so-close-to-sleep state.

You hum in question.

“Now that you aren’t interested in Enid, are you interested in anyone?” She asks, trying her best to not sound too interested in what you have to say.

You smile soft, the drowsiness making your critical thinking skills all mushy.

“Yeah, I told you that already.” You tell her and promptly snuggle yourself further into the girl.

When Wednesday finally gathers up the courage to ask you who it is, you’re fast asleep, snoring quietly on her.

-

The next morning, when you wake up alone, feeling the most well-rested you’ve felt in a long time, you barely notice the dark colors of the bedsheets.

It takes you a minute, but you prop yourself up on your elbow, trying to figure out where the hell you are.

But as the events of the night prior come back to you, you find yourself grinning.

“Stop smiling like that. You look weird.” Wednesday quips, and your eyes dart to where she is, hunched over by her typewriter. There’s a glint in her eye that tells you she’s joking.

You flash her another toothy grin, surprised when she sends you a tiny smile back. And then, as if she’s just gotten shy, she turns back to her typewriter and ignores your teasing remarks.

You sigh dramatically and flop back onto her bed.

“I’m gonna sleep here from now on!” You announce.

You take her silence as a quiet acceptance.

[letshavedeernnertogether]

We'll meet again

the plot is: (Y/n) summoms a demon, Alastor, to save herself from awful men and they make a deal. We'll see what comes next in subsequent chapters :>

I used she/her because it seems to me that the heroine has her own character and I thought it won't be right if I write you/your and than the heroine will make something out of your, reader, character, but I still used Y/n because I wanted to make you feel closer to this story and Alastor

english is not my mother-tounge, so I'm very-very sorry about the mistakes I must have made :'<

Part one, the summoning

Away! Farther from this place, as far as possible! It was just incredible to stay here for any longer. Although she couldn't leave this place she still could disappear for some time.

(Y/n) was running through the forest. Cold october wind rustled in her ears and scratched her cheeks, stained with tears. She breathed hard, suffocating with sob and run, but didn't want to stop to recover her wind.

She turned from the path and ran deep into the woods. She could barely see, where she was running, blinded by tears. The mist embraced her shoulders and waist, as if it asked her for a dance. Trees were bare and grey, the grass scratched her ankles. She often stumbled over the roots and stones, almost fell several times, but didn't stopped.

(Y/n) thought how marvelously would it be, if the Death would find her there right now. If she fell and bled until William, riding on the horseback, would find her, to took her to the cold and dirty marriage bed.

She was running until she ran out into a forest border, circled by high pines. There she fell exhausted.

She hated her existence that moment. She wanted to disappear. How awfully, how disgustingly, how abominably she felt! That dirty pig who dared to call himself their family's friend and who almost...

She wanted to kill him, she almost did it, when he grabbed her roughly and tried to press her lips against his. Only a memory made her shudder in disgust. But fortunately, a maid entered the room that moment, and (Y/n) ran away taking an occasion.

Now she cried her heart out.

If only she had the power... The power to take revenge. To do anything. To be anything.

She read about such power. In the books that (Y/n) called classics just because they were old, and that her mother called worthless, as they "don't teach how to live". (Y/n) always replied that these books taught her how to feel.

These books brought her up, even if their authors lived centuries ago. They told her about love, only one immortal love, and what a person could lose to get it.

The influence of these books was stronger due to the fact, that the house, where she lived, was located in the middle of nowhere, and throughout her life she communicated only with her parents, their few friends and servants.

Shaking with sobbing, she was lying on the ground. She knew that everything she read was just a fiction. There never existed any fausts, nor mephistos, nor witches nor evil forces. But she wished it weren't so.

So maybe she could try..?

She remembered a book, she found in the attick. Black leather binding, old yellow pages, blackletter.

"Circle, animals' bones and special words," she muttered.

After a while everything was done. All she had to do is to cast a spell.

Alasor was in his radio studio and he was going to start a brodcast. He made himself a cup of coffee, tuned the radio in and only just sat in his chair when something started to happen.

Everything around him flicked and rattled; the air was filled with red and black shadows.

"What is it?" he said.

Invisible force seized him and he felt the smell of rotten leaves.

Not even three seconds had passed, when the radio studio was empty.

Alastor found himself sitting on the ground in the middle of circle somewhere in a forest border. He saw a beautiful and frightened young woman in front of him. The hem of her long light dress was stained with mud. Hair was messy and her eyes were red of tears. She looked at him with her eyes wide opened, stilly moving her lips.

A human.

Alastor understood that he was still sitting on the ground and quickly stood up.

He noticed how small was this woman. He was tall enough even among the demons; and now standing opposite her he realized how small people were.

"Oh, god," she said and covered her mouth with her palm, "I can't believe. Am I insane?"

The man dusted his suit.

"If you summon a demon and then calling the god for help, then..." he almost closed his index finger and thumb, "maybe slightly mad?"

His voice sounded like coming out of a radio. His wide smile full of sharp yellow teeth gave (Y/n) the shivers. She was amazed at how classically devilish he looked. Could it be because of the colour of his clothes? He had a red pinstriped suit, a red shirt with two intersecting stripes forming something like a cross on his chest, a bowtie, black trousers and shoes with red toes. In his hand he held a strange cane that looked more like a microphone. His eyes were red, and she felt how hypnotical was his gaze. His hair was also red but with black tips. On the top of his head she saw ears and small antlers. "A deer demon?" she thought.

"Well," he said, "are you still going to remain silent and stare at me?"

He throwned but was still smiling.

"Sorry, it's just not every day you summon a demon haha" she began to stroke her hair.

"So is it your first time, hmm?"

She looked at him with her cheeks red, "Summoning? Yeah, exactly..."

(Y/n) thought that his voice was anodyne despite who he was. She couldn't deny that she found him all attractive.

"Well, dear," said the man, "tell the truth it's my first time either! Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" His speech became faster and he held out his hand (Y/n).

He was still in the circle and (Y/n) was out. She tipped her head and asked, "You can't cross this circle, can you?"

He was still holding his hand out her.

"I'm quite sure that you can," he said, gazing at her with a sharp smile.

"But I'm not actually sure if it's safe for me," (Y/n) replied.

He tilted his head sharply, and she heard something like a radio was crackling.

"What a bold girl," he thought.

He smiled wider and put his hands behind his back.

"Ha! Very well, dear! Now if you don't mind, explain me, why have you summoned me?"

Her face became severe; in her eyes he saw something very similar to the thirst for a revenge.

"I want the power."

He looked up at her.

"A demon like you can give me the power, right?" She looked at him with hope.

"What kind of power do you mean, darling?"

She hardly breathed, gazing at him.

"I want to be the one who can't be harmed or even touched by men. I want them to regret they meeting me."

He was surprised indeed, "Why such a unique request?"

She hugged herself by her shoulders, "Just make it," she said.

Alastor noticed how subdued and frightened she was.

Some people say if a person seeks for a devil's help this person is weak, desperate and lost their heart. But in actual fact, not every person dares to do it. Only a fearless, confident in their strength and knowledge and slightly mad, will make a deal. Of course, a lot is contingent. Nobody will ever say that Ambrosio was a strong and brave man. But the inner strength and spirit of Faust, his desire for knowledge and willingness to do anything to achieve his dream, can be envied by many. And Alastor was pretty sure about the strength of this girl. He was actually interested in her soul.

"Let's make a deal," he said holding his hand out again.

(Y/n) looked up at him. She was thinking. What would happen if she did it? Would she end up in hell? But wasn't her own existence hell already? But it was worth it, right? To sell her soul to save her body. Madness, some would say. Maybe she wasn't actually sane that moment, but she did want to revenge.

She came closer and erased a line between her and Alastor. She took his hand and a green light filled the forest. (Y/n) saw how his antlers grew much bigger, the smile stretched from ear to ear, his eyes glowed. She felt like something had changed inside of her.

And then silence.

"Well, dear, here is the contract. You must sign it." He gave her a parchment covered with dark red ink.

She took the paper and read it.

No matter how hard she tried to find something ambiguous in the document, she couldn't. "I guess a demon gets your soul not with a trap in papers but with the formulation of your wish," (Y/n) thought.

And as the formulation of her own wish in papers seemed strange, she asked the demon, "I don't remember that I said something about the demons," she wanted to show Alastor the strange line in the contact, but he was already behind her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She responded with all-knowing tone, "I said, that I don't wanna be able to be harmed by any man, but you wrote here, that I don't wanna be harmed by any demons too."

"Why not, dear?" Alastor looked in her face. (Y/n) could see her reflection in his crimson eyes.

"My dear, I don't fill in the contact, you do." He drew himself up to his full height, "My job is to fulfil your wish in any way, that I think fit. You're the only one who formulates your desire, which is written here in the form you thought about it. So I believe it was you, and you only, who thought that you should be protected by demons too."

All of this he said smiling, accompanying his speech with graceful gestures.

"Evidently, you faced the demon," he put his hand on his chest, "me, and decided to save yourself from such a dangerous fellow." Alastor laughed and she couldn't hide her smile. His laugh was very infectious.

"Honestly, I find you better that most men I know," and before Alastor could realized what she said, (Y/n) asked, "But what about this part?"

(Y/n) pointed at red letters, where was said that neither men nor demons couldn't even touch her, unless she allow them to do it herself, with all her heart, completely trusting them.

"I'm sure, I couldn't think it. This point makes me defenceless. Also, I don't allow those I even trust to touch me. I don't like touch." She was serious as a heart attack.

Alastor leaned over her again to read red cursive. She mentioned that he smelled like fur and wood, and she also noticed a slight smell of coffee. "Can't believe a demon smells so nice," she thought.

"My dear, I must confess that I maybe thought this when we shook hands. Incredibly, how different the contracts between demons are from the contracts between a human and a demon!"

She frowned in cofusioun.

"I mean, my dear," he continued, "it would be quite difficult for you to never be interacted with anyone, there should be at least several men that you trust, aren't there?"

"No."

"Then don't worry!" He placed his hand on her shoulder and their cheeks touched, "this point doesn't mean anything for a reserved woman like you!"

He stood straight again.

"But how could be your thoughts written here?" she exclaimed. "Didn't you tell me several minutes ago, that I'm the only one who fills in the contract?"

"It's written in description of my protection of you," his voice became lower, "And as I mentioned before only I decide how to do it," and than backed to normal.

"All right," she sighed. She suspected that it was a trap, something that she would regret later; but she didn't want to worry about it too much. She was sure in her distrust of people.

(Y/n) continued on reading. It was a part of what Alastor would do to protect her.

"As you see, darling," Alastor looked at his nails, "I will always be by your side." He smiled wider at her.

"I give you my shadow," He hastened to add, "well, only a part of it, otherwise you would have my shape of shadow hahaha!"

She glanced at his shadow. Yeah, it would be difficult to explain why did a girl had a shadow of a tall, slim, deer like man.

She looked at the contact again. She sighed and signed it without hesitation. Before she had time to finish the last letter, the contact disappeared in green light.

Alastor stood in the bright green light holding out his hand. His antlers grew larger, reminding the branches of a dead wood. His smile was stitched, and on his forehead (Y/n) saw "X".

They shook hands and all of this had disappeared.

"Well, dear," Alastor adjusted his jacket, "now I'd like to warn you that this shadow has quite a cruel character!" He grined.

(Y/n) looked at her shadow under her feet. It had the same shape as usual, but it was much darker now. And then she saw how the shadow changed its shape in the place of the head. A long sharp arc appeared there. It looked like a smile. (Y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine. The smile disappeared.

"It'll get rid of your evildoers." The demon came closer. "But you need to remember, my dear, that it won't help you, if you let them harm you." He made her look at him, raising her chin. "You're invulnerable now, but you still can be harmed by any woman or anyone who you trust. So choose wisely."

She didn't move. She felt hypnotized, and his touching gave her a little tremble. "What did you say about touching just a moment ago?" said an annoying voice in her head.

"Funny, I told you to chose wisely who to trust, but still I can touch you." Alastor was smiling at her and ran his thumb down her chin. She still didn't move. He drew himself up straight and let her go. She blinked as if coming out of a trance. He put his palm on his chest saying, "I'm very flattered."

It seemed to (Y/n) that she saw some kind of softness and his eyes. But a sardonic grin appeared at his face again.

"Well, my dearest, with this I say goodbye to you." Alastor stepped in the drew circle. He looked around him and sayid to (Y/n), "Interesting, dear, but it seems to me, that I can't leave you until you command."

She looked at him. She understood that she didn't want him to leave. His face, his voice, his manner of speaking... She already missed it.

Did he saw a regret in her eyes?

"It was a real pleasure to get acquainted with you," Alastor said.

"Shall we meet again?" She asked and made a tiny step forward.

"I'm sure we'll do."

She gazed at him, pressing her hands to the chest. They would meet. He gave her power. She was saved. They would meet.

She took a stick and completed the erased circle.

"Goodbye, Alastor."

(Y/n) was left alone.

[milksuu]

Second Magic

Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader

Word count: 2.OK

Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood

Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.

He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.

a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.

There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.

From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.

“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”

“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”

“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”

“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”

She’s still alive?

“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”

There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”

The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.

To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.

Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.

You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”

He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”

With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”

When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.

Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.

“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.

“You could say that.” 

For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety. 

Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own. 

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”

“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”

“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”

Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.

Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”

He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.

You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.

An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.

The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.

“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.

“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”

Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”

He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”

There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”

Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head. 

Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.

“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”

“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”

He blinked with mystification. “Him?”

A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.

“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.

“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”

“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”

The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears. 

“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”

“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”

[cloudcountry]

HELP I'VE BEEN CURSED

SUMMARY: Sebek thinks you've put a spell on him. In a way, he's not wrong.

CHARACTER: Sebek Zigvolt.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: Sebek not understanding romantic feelings and going WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS when he catches them >>>>>>>>>>

~~~~~

One moment Lilia was working on his next masterpiece, a blackberries roast beef asparagus casserole, and the next, Sebek was bursting down his door with red cheeks and wide eyes. Whipping his head to face his dormmate, Lilia couldn’t help but smile at the frantic expression on his face.

“Master Lilia! I seek your guidance!” Sebek yelled, “I fear I have been cursed!”

“Oh no. We can’t have that, can we?” Lilia placed a hand under his chin thoughtfully, “Do explain.”

“It’s the Prefect!” Sebek huffed, shaking his head dramatically, “They must have cast a spell on me to remove me from the Young Master! I feel a pull towards them that cannot be explained! It’s illogical and uncalled for! What makes it even worse is the way my heart reacts to them—it palpitates! It’s incredibly concerning! Master Lilia, what shall I do?”

Lilia was baffled for a few beats before a small smirk worked its way onto his face.

Aww, it sounded like little Sebek was in love!

Laughing to himself, Lilia gazed at his underclassman affectionately.

“Listen carefully, Sebek.” he narrowed his eyes dramatically, “A curse has been placed on you, but not by the Prefect. The only way you can lessen the effects of the curse is by staying with them. I’m afraid it may last a while, but staying with them should build your immunity. Make sure to treat them well and make them feel comfortable. That’s essential.”

“Yes, Master Lilia!” Sebek nodded vigorously, “I’ll follow your instructions perfectly! Thank you for your guidance!”

Lilia could barely hold in his laughter as Sebek ran out of the room, surely off to find you and fulfill his duty. He just hoped you were ready to have a rowdy boy trailing after you for however long it took for Sebek to confess to you directly. Humming a jolly little tune to himself, Lilia started his lovely cooking experiment once again.

📚

“Sebek...? May I ask why you’re following me?” you asked, staring at the stack of your textbooks in his arms, “And why did you insist on carrying my stuff? You usually just laugh at me-”

“I’m doing this for Malleus!” he yelled, staring straight ahead with a slight flush to his cheeks, “Don’t ask questions, human! I’m not doing this for you!”

“Right, right.” you hummed, patting his shoulder absentmindedly, “Thank you though. Those books are pretty heavy. It’s helpful having someone like you around to help carry all this stuff since Grim can’t carry his own things.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault!” Grim crossed his arms, huffing angrily.

Sebek nearly recoiled at your touch, the contact sending a shock wave through his brain that sent his heart into another frenzy. There was no way you were a magicless human! You must be a secretly powerful mage deep down, sent to infiltrate Night Raven College and get to the Young Master! Sebek narrowed his eyes at you as you mumbled something about lunch, hoisting your bag higher on your shoulder. Yes...he’d have to observe you more. For Malleus. (Not because he liked being around you, bleh. What a ridiculous idea.)

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

The farmer is a pretty heavy sleeper if even a meteor landing on their farm won't get them up before 6am but what about their spouse? How would they all (sve included if you'd like) react to not only a whole space rock hitting the farm but the farmer reacting with nothin more than a sleepy "oh was probably just a meteor... I'll check that in the mornin."

I had a lot of fun with this scenario, really liked the idea itself. Thank you so much for the ask, and enjoy! 💕

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors:

Sam said quietly, "Oh, okay," and laid his head back on the pillow, falling asleep again. When morning came, the young guitarist would consider his vague recollection of this conversation a dream. What will be his surprise when he sees an actual meteorite lying not far from their house. "Babe, that could have ended badly..." "No worries, Sammy, but if you want, we'll check it out next time." ...Next time?????

"Did you hear that?!" "Relax, dear, it's just a meteorite..." "Ah, alright... It's a WHAT?!" And the slogan of this Harvey's headcanon: "A meteorite is the best alarm clock! You'll wake up right away!" Although in Farmer's case - they woke up to a fuss made by their worried husband. But you can understand the Pelican Town doctor, too - a bloody piece of cosmic rock fell right into your yard, it's hard to stay calm.

Elliott literally fell out of bed from such a loud sound outside the window, and Farmer continued to snore quietly??? The writer was so confused, he didn't know if he should wake up Farmer or not. "Mmmm... Did'a meteorit fal' again... I'll deal with it tmorrw... 💤" Farmer mumbled, leaving Elliott even more confused. Meteorite? Wha- again? They mean... it's happened before and it's going to happen again?! What is happening?!

"Hon, what the fuck." At first Shane's reaction to Farmer's words wasn't too violent, because he's still sleepy. But after a couple of seconds the meaning of the words reached him, the gyrus in his brain started working and he shrieked: "The coop! Charlie!" The realisation that the animals might have been hit by the meteorite instantly brought Farmer to their feet.

No matter how hard Alex tried - his spouse slept like a dead man, muttering that they would check the source of the noise tomorrow. What do they mean, tomorrow?! They need to check it now! Alex can't just leave it alone, so he goes to check it out, with or without Farmer. Whoa, a real meteorite... Erm, shouldn't they tell Lewis or someone about this?

Meteorite or not, Sebastian remained surprisingly calm. He gave up trying to wake Farmer and went to the window to see what was out there. They were right - it was in fact a meteorite, a real one. And there's light coming from it. So cool. "Sure you don't want to come with me, dear?" Farmer mumbled something incomprehensible in response, and the emo decided to go alone, to look at the cool sky rock. Because why not.

Lance sensed something was wrong before the meteorite touched the ground. Fortunately, the far-sighted gallant adventurer had put up a magical barrier that prevented the space rock from crashing into his and Farmer's house or barns. The meteorite had fallen, all was well. "I take it this phenomenon is not new to you?" He smiled as his spouse mumbled "tomorrow..." in their sleep. Well then, they both can look at the meteorite later.

"Razor!" Magnus jumped up sharply from the bed, casting the spell on automatic. The trajectory of the falling meteorite was reversed, and the celestial stone plummeted into the water, no longer posing a danger to the forest. "Farmer, meteorite." "Mhmm, five more minutes.... I'll look at the meteorite tomorrow...." Magnus wondered how his dearest spouse could even survive as an adventurer with no sense of self-preservation. It's a damn meteorite!

A whole palette of emotions was bubbling up inside Victor, awake from the noise. What was that! A meteorite? A real one! It's probably incredibly hot right now, he shouldn't go near it.... But it's a meteorite! It's so scary, and so interesting! Farmer, don't hide your head under the pillow, but get a flashlight. Victor's taking them out to see the space rock! Well, and make sure everything's okay and no animals are hurt, too.

SDV/SVE bachelorettes:

A meteorite?! A real rock of cosmic origin fell right on the farm? Maru immediately jumps out of bed and wakes up Farmer. It's unclear, however, whether this reaction of hers is simple worry about putting out the fire from the meteorite fall or that the young inventor is thrilled that she and her spouse will see the meteorite up close! Probably both. Either way, Farmer won't sleep well tonight...

"What makes you think it's a meteorite? Maybe it's aliens? Oh, that's so cool! Get up quick or we'll miss the whole thing! And grab a sword, just in case." The force with which Abigail was prancing poor Farmer made them realise at once that their wife was not going to let them finish their beauty sleep. Unlikely aliens in there, but they'd have to check anyway. Ugh...

Poor Penny is in complete shock at how calmly Farmer has reacted to everything. Don't they care what happens to the farm? What if what fell down caused a fire and everything could burn? There's a forest nearby, it would be a huge fire! Penny tearfully begged her sleepy spouse to check it out before it's too late. Farmer had to get up (they hate to see their lovely wife crying).

"Did you hear that, Farmer?" "Yep, meteorite hit again, I'll look tomorrow..." Leah can already see the fire that has travelled from the glowing space rock to the dry summer grass. Oh no, there's going to be a fire now... She wakes Farmer up with one mighty shove and shouts an emergency. And as much as Farmer grumbled over their interrupted sleep - the artist was right. A forest fire is a very dangerous.☝️

The sound of a meteorite falling may not have been able to wake Farmer, but the shriek of terror of their wife Haley sure knocked them out of dreamland. "Shh, Haley, it's only a meteorite..." JUST A METEORITE?! Is Farmer laughing at her? Oh no, they can't go back to the dream realm now - Haley wakes them up again and tells them to look at that fallen meteorite before something else happens. Haley's half asleep herself, but she's scared, so she'll insist on checking it out now.

Before going to bed, Emily read a daily horoscope in a magazine that she would soon "be given a big sign, so make your decision at once." Nowhere, however, did it say that this "sign" was a huge rock from the sky. But at least she made the decision right away, (and the right one) - getting Farmer out if bed, despite their protests, to make sure the falling meteorite didn't destroy anything. No "tomorrow", it had to be now. She hopes no animals were! Her heart couldn't take it...

Claire jumped up in bed, as if scalded by boiling water, at the rattling of window glass and the vibrations throughout the house. Something had fallen on the farm - and that 'something' is very big. She woke and woke her spouse to no avail, who only responded to the terrifying sound with a louder snore. How did they even manage not to wake up from such a noise? And how could they mumbling so calmly about the meteorite?!

Poor Sophia, frightened by a scary sound outside , immediately pressed herself against Farmer, trying to hide. Farmer kissed her gently and told her that it was just a meteorite, that everything was fine and they would protect her. After saying "it's okay" and "I will protect you" the panic inside Sophia was extinguished and she fell asleep again in the arms of her spouse. The meteorite in the morning would definitely be a shock to her (she thought she had dreamed the whole thing).

After that horrible sound, Olivia not only wakes Farmer up, but also gets almost half the town up, making one call to Lewis and claiming that something terrible has happened on her and Farmer's property. Farmer sleepily tried to convince Olivia that a fallen meteorite was no big deal, but she wasn't convinced. How is that - a huge, dangerous rock from outer space - and not dangerous!

[asillylittleistik]

do you have any headcanons for alpha karlach with omega tav? or fic ideas? I love her so much🤭

KARLACH MY BELOVEDDDDD

I have so many thoughts on this, I love Karlach so much

Also, you didn't specify if you wanted this to be SFW or not, so I'm gonna play it safe and keep it mostly clean, but if you ever want an NSFW fic or some headcanons, just send in a new request and I can write some for sure

Alpha Karlach With Omega Reader

Okay can I just say that you will never in your life be with someone who is both as lovingly gentle and violently protective as Karlach

I have a headcanon that, since Karlach was sent to Avernus at a fairly young age, and hasn't been out for very long at all, that you are her first relationship

She's heard all the horror stories from you and some other omegas about creepy alphas who only care about hooking up, and will take any opportunity or push any boundary to get what they want

And being one of those creepy alphas is the last thing Karlach wants

So she is so gentle with you, almost as if you were made of porcelain

She's so subservient to your every need that someone who didn't know better might assume you're the alpha

But she just cares about your well-being so much

On the other hand, though, she is extremely cautious that none of those creepy alphas get anywhere near you

If she sees someone checking you out, flirting a little bit, or god forbid trying to take you out anywhere, she's at your side in an instant

She usually doesn't even need to say much, her appearance alone is intimidating enough

A tall, muscular, pissed-off tiefling, covered in battle scars, carrying a great axe on her back, and literally on fire is usually enough to scare creeps off

But for those that don't get the hint, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty

And then she's immediately at your side again, cupping your face and asking if you're okay as if she doesn't have blood dripping off her knuckles

She just cares so much that you never feel objectified or pressured by anyone, especially her

When your first heat comes, she, respectfully, tries to stay as far away as possible

She doesn't want to take advantage of you in such a delicate state

It's not until one day, after a long day of adventuring, she comes back absolutely DEVASTATED to find her stuffed bear, Clive, is nowhere to be seen

It isn't until she makes her way over to your tent that she sees you've made a little nest in there of all the bedrolls and pillows you all have pillaged in your journey

And then she sees you, bare naked, dripping with sweat, and hugging onto Clive like it was your lifeline

And when her eyes meet yours, all you can say is "he smells like you."

You know she can't leave after that.

For a little while, there's this torturous little game you and Karlach have to play

You want to be around her, but just being in the same tent isn't enough. You want to touch her and feel her body all around yours

But Karlach on a normal day is too hot to touch, and horny Karlach? Yeah, she's nearly set the tent on fire a few times now

She makes peace with it, with not being able to touch you, as terrible as it is for both of you

But you guys find a few... workarounds...

But oh man, the day that Dammon fixes Karlach's engine

No amount of pulling the blankets over their ears could help anyone keep the noise out

It isn't until day 3 that Shadowheart finally gets fed up and casts a silence spell over your tent

But Karlach can't help it, it's what an entire life of not even being near an omega does to her

At the end of your heats, when your brains are a little less foggy, she's back to giving you everything you could ever need

Water? Food? Maybe a small healing spell to helping your aching body? She is an aftercare goddess

That's all she cares about, anyway. In her mind, her pleasure is always second to yours

After the tough hand you've been dealt in life, her one goal is to make you feel special and taken care of

And, for someone as new to being in a relationship as Karlach is, she's doing a pretty damn good job at it