#academyspellwood

[frizz22]

Witch’s Mark

Anon tumblr prompt: Zelda signs the book and her first time is with Faustus in the woods right after. Thanks for the prompt! Read on ao3

Notes: Faustus only a few years older than Zelda.

She considered making Faustus wait.

It’d been impossible for Zelda to be his first, being underage and having to wait to give herself to the Dark Lord first. She certainly hadn’t expected him to wait for her to come of age either. Which meant, well, she should balance the scales by taking some other witch or warlock to bed first. She wasn’t his first, so he shouldn’t be hers.

As the magic and lust swirled inside her after she signed, though, Zelda looked up and found Faustus watching her far more intensely than the situation warranted. It sent a spike a heat straight through her.

She could make him wait. She could. But Zelda didn’t want to. She wanted him. And she’d never been one to deny herself the things she wanted most. 

Which was why, after the ceremony was over and the adults filtered away, after her siblings were properly distracted by their friends, Zelda let Faustus pull her aside. And then deeper into the woods still.

Only once the sounds of everyone else faded did Faustus stop and release her hand.

Looking around her with careful neutrality, Zelda arched an unimpressed brow. “And what are we doing here?” She drawled, twirling a curl around her finger.

“I have to make sure you’re truly a witch now.” He teased, drawing a finger down the length of her spine.

Zelda suppressed a shiver and did her best to appear unaffected. “You’re not convinced? My name is in the book, same as yours. Or,” magic crackled visibly at her fingertips, “do you need another kind of demonstration?”

Humming as he circled her, Faustus’ eyes swept over her hungrily. “I need another kind of visual verification. All witches have a mark, your mouth can lie,” his thumb brushed her lower lip and was gone before she could react, “but your body can’t.” He delivered the last few words in a sultry voice that had heat pooling in her lower abdomen.

And oh, how right he was, her body betrayed her when she was around him every single time. Leaning into his light touches only to give little lurches when he backed away quickly. There was no need for teasing anymore, though, all their unspoken promises could finally be fulfilled.

Despite the fact that they were free to do as they pleased, Zelda wanted to play his game. Wanted Faustus to think he was winning up until the end when she turned the tables on him and left him stunned.

So, she turned coquettishly and swept her hair over one shoulder so he could reach her zipper. “If you insist.” She sighed, managing a mildly bored tone.

Faustus stepped up behind her with a dark chuckle and it sent thrills through her. “Oh, I do, Zelda. I really,” he fell silent, he’d lowered her zipper down to her hips and apparently gotten lost in the sight of her bare back. “I really do insist.” He finished, voice harsher than before and pride swelled inside her at how he lost control from such an innocent piece of skin.

Stepping away from him, Zelda let the dress slip to the ground. “Is this enough?” She asked coyly, not facing him or looking at him yet.

And it was as if she could feel the heat of his gaze, how it eagerly traced her newly exposed skin. “Not quite enough.” Faustus growled, his fingertips brushing along the edge of her bra, tickling the skin just above the clasp.

“Oh,” Zelda breathed, trying to sound innocent as she reached behind her and unhooked the material and let that fall away as well. “And now?” She teased, finally peeking over her shoulder at Faustus and nearly losing her carefully crafted demeanor at the lust in his eyes.

A sinful smile spread Faustus’ lips and he shook his head, hands now coming down to bracket her hips. “Almost there, dearest.” His pinky slipped underneath the elastic of her underwear and Zelda almost ended their game right there and jumped him.

But the wait only increased the pleasure. So, she hooked her thumbs through the fabric and lowered her final piece of clothing, bending only at the waist to give Faustus a good look at what he was getting.

He inhaled sharply behind her and Zelda smirked, and the other girls had told her she’d disappoint the well-versed Faustus Blackwood. It appeared they were wrong.

Flinging her underwear away, Zelda finally turned to face him. “I believe I’m ready for your inspection, Mr. Blackwood.” She intoned huskily, holding her arms out to the side slightly. Faustus’ breathing came in quicker bursts as he stared at her, and Zelda could see a slight tenting in his pants. When he didn’t move, Zelda licked her lips and cocked her head. “Faustus? I was under the impression this was an official inspection. If you’re not up to the task I can certainly go find someone who is willing.”

The comment had Faustus snapping to, and there was a dark, possessive glint in his eye that had more heat pooling in Zelda’s core. Taking several slow predatory steps towards her, Faustus’ eyes roved over her. “You could go find someone else.” He murmured, stopping only an inch from her. “But I have a feeling you’d be unsatisfied with another’s inspection.”

Huffing, Zelda rolled her eyes. “That’s hard to tell, especially since you’ve yet to start yours.”

He grinned wickedly at her. “And what makes you think I haven’t started?” Faustus purred in her ear, still not touching her. “A visual inspection is first.” Pulling back, Faustus slowly circled her, occasionally instructing Zelda to lift an arm, turn this way, or that. And how was she so worked up when he hadn’t even touched her yet? How was it his gaze and voice were enough to arouse her so?

Not entirely unaware of her reaction, Faustus stopped in front of her and smirked. “Hmm, no mark. Must not be a witch.”

Zelda shrugged slightly. “If that’s what you call a thorough inspection...” She tsked and shook her head. “I feel sorry for anyone facing trial where they must prove themselves.” And how he didn’t see the pounding of her heart through her chest, Zelda wasn’t sure. But she was sure if one thing, she was playing the game right. Faustus shifted slightly, his hand going to his pants to adjust though his eyes never left her. He was enjoying this foreplay as much as she was.

“Good thing I have failsafes in place.” And before Zelda could make some quip back, his hands were tracing over her skin, following the same path his eyes had taken. And just when Zelda thought she might crack and beg for more; Faustus replaced his hands with his mouth and repeated the entire process. And if his mouth lingered on her inner thighs, her breasts, her neck and had her panting... well, could she really be blamed after so much build up?

He finished his search by sealing his mouth over hers, his hands gripping her hips hard and pressing her against his now very evident need. As he explored her mouth with his tongue, Zelda allowed herself to touch him for the first time. Her hands skating up his chest, around his neck and into his hair, scraping and tugging lightly as their mouths moved.

A growl of pleasure and approval sounded in the back of Faustus throat and Zelda pushed against him harder, wanting more.

A moment later, though, Faustus broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down her neck and then back up to her ear. “I think I found your mark.” He murmured, hand ghosting along her ribs, back down to her hip and then further down still.

“Did you now?” And her voice was pitched higher than she’d like, a little too breathless, but he’d finally sunk a finger into her aching core, and it’d been all she could do not to moan. She refused to give his ego the boost.

As if he knew she was holding back, Faustus added another finger and planted lazy kisses along her chest and neck, his tempo matching that of his fingers, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

While Zelda enjoyed being played with, it’d been all she was allowed before her baptism, they were past that now. She didn’t want a gentle Faustus, had pleasured herself enough nights at the thought of rough and fast sex with the warlock that this wasn’t anywhere near what she wanted.

When she tilted her hips to encourage him to increase his pace, Faustus gave her a feral grin and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking, nibbling and licking in the most delicious manner as he finally picked up the speed of his hand.

Back arching, Zelda moaned out his name, grasping at him, nails digging in before dragging along the back of his shirt. Faustus groaned in response, switching his mouth to her other breast, his thumb coming up to work her clit at the same time.

“Finally,” Zelda gasped, biting her lip hard.

A chuckle rumbled against her chest and Faustus released her nipple with a wet pop. “Is this what you’ve wanted, Zelda?” His eyes were nearly black with lust and she panted from his efforts and the sight of him getting worked up over her.

Always impertinent, though, Zelda huffed. “I expected a bit more... passion.” She settled on the word, arching a brow at the warlock whose hand was still pumping inside her.

Eyebrows flying up, Faustus grinned at her hungrily. “That so?” Trying to hum in a nonchalant manner, Zelda managed a one shouldered shrug. “I can manage that.” He stole a bruising kiss from her lips before suddenly he was on his knees, his mouth aligned with her core. Before Zelda could even shudder at the sight of him between her legs, he circled his tongue teasingly around her clit before sucking it hard into his mouth as he added a third finger inside her and started to thrust faster, harder.

A litany of curses flew from Zelda as pleasure built in her rapidly and she had to cling to his shoulders to remain upright.

This, this was what she’d imagined... and then some. She came with the Dark Lord and Faustus’ name falling from her lips and Faustus continued to work her until she practically went limp. Chest heaving, Faustus guided Zelda gently to the ground.

Pulling away, Faustus licked his fingers clean and then kissed his way back up her body before slipping his tongue into her mouth so she could taste herself.

An obscene sound emanated from the back of her throat and Zelda dove her tongue into his mouth, taking control of the kiss so she could explore and find every trace of herself that remained.

Faustus’ hard length pressing against her thigh had Zelda breaking the kiss and sliding a hand down to stroke him through his pants.

Grunting, Faustus pressed his face into her neck and muttered curses as she continued to work. A smirk tugged her lips and Zelda snapped the fingers on her free hand and suddenly Faustus was as naked as she was. Taking advantage of his surprise at his loss of clothes, Zelda rolled them and straddled him, still pumping her hand along his length.

“Is this what you’ve wanted, Faustus?” She asked, repeating his question from earlier with a light mocking tone. His hands clamped onto her hips, nails biting into the flesh there, and he nodded; too lost to play games anymore. Smiling wickedly, Zelda shifted so she was aligned with him and slid her entrance along his cock, teasing him and coating him in her juices at the same time.

“Satan, Zelda.” He groaned, bucking his hips to try and hurry her along.

And seeing the oh so proper Faustus Blackwood come undone by her was the most glorious thing Zelda had ever witnessed. But she didn’t want to wait, while teasing him was incredible, she knew she’d have plenty of time for that later. Now, now she just wanted him inside her.

With a final teasing swipe, Zelda sank onto him, sheathing his cock to the hilt. She was still sensitive enough that she almost came from that alone, but she ground her teeth and held back; she wanted them to come together and from how Faustus was praising her and her tight, wet cunt, she wouldn’t have to hold out long.

She waited a moment, letting the sensation sink in, there hadn’t been any of the pain the older girls had tried to scare her with; slight discomfort, but that had been quickly overwhelmed but much more pleasurable feelings.

Leaning forward to rest her hands on Faustus’ chest, Zelda started to move, slowly at first, getting the hang of the movement and then faster as she stopped thinking and let her body take over.

Faustus allowed her to ride him for roughly a minute, his eyes simply watching her as she rose and fell over him again and again, and then he snaked an arm around her waist and sat up, clutching her tightly to him while she kept moving.

He kissed her hard, the hand not wrapped around her snuck between them and pinched her clit, rolling it between his fingers and Zelda’s back arched against him. Her head fell back as she tightened around him, grinding tight circles as she rode out another orgasm. Faustus flipped them before she’d finished and started to pound into her with abandon, Zelda moaned again, her climax lengthening at his efforts and he came inside her. Hips snapping forward a few more times as he slowed before he collapsed half on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him in place as she ran her hands through his hair and up and down his back, a smile on her face as she caught her breath.

She’d been warned partnering with others could be a bit disappointing, no one being able to know your body as well as you... but Faustus, he had a road map to her. And Zelda found she wanted to show him all the backroads too.

After some time, Faustus pulled out of her and rolled onto his side.

Assuming they were done, Zelda shifted to get up and clean herself off before disappearing. His hand catching her arm and tugging her into him had Zelda smothering a smile as she curled into his side and rested her head on his chest. The older girls had told her he’d want nothing to do with her after, that Faustus wanted her cherry and nothing more, Zelda hadn’t cared one way or another she was getting what she wanted regardless; but it was another victory over them, this intimacy and cuddling after sex. Faustus’ voice recaptured her attention and drew Zelda out of her internal gloating.

“Satan, Zelda, if I didn’t know for a fact you were a virgin before tonight,” he sighed contentedly. “You’re incredible.” He murmured, languidly trailing his fingers up and down her bare back.

Unsure how to respond without sounding like a cock-struck amateur, Zelda hummed and kissed up his neck, along his jaw and then captured his mouth in a slow, but intense kiss. Breaking, they smiled at one another and settled back down, her head on his shoulder.

“So, where was it?” She asked, tipping her chin so she could look at Faustus without lifting her head.

Brow furrowing, Faustus frowned. “Where was what?”

A smile tugged her mouth and Zelda laughed. “My witch’s mark,” she reminded him of the thin excuse he’d supplied for undressing her.

Faustus laughed too and held her more tightly against him. “Well, you see, I seem to have forgotten.” He stated, eyes glittering. “I’ll just have to search again. Though, I seem to recall it was somewhere down here.” He pulled her so she was laying mostly on top of him and kissed her soundly, a hand roaming lower and lower until it brushed against her lower lips. It didn’t go further though, giving her some time to recover, his hand drifted back up to hold her closer.

Shaking her head, Zelda smiled into the kiss as she adjusted her position slightly so she could explore his skin as well. She wasn’t the only one with a witch’s mark in need of finding.

[frizz22]

The Eldritch Terrors

Maybe they’ll address it in pt 4, but I had a head canon for why Faustus went looking for the Eldritch Terrors in the first place. So, here it is 😊 Read on ao3

He lost faith in the Dark Lord when he was ten and his mother was selected to be Queen at the Feast of Feasts.

Faustus blanched and almost threw up when her paper turned white... but his mother, his mother had beamed and turned to his father, proud.

As they walked back to the manor, Faustus tried to block out his parents’ voices, talking happily about the glory his mother would bring to the family. How wonderful it was that the Dark Lord selected a Blackwood over any other family.

Once back home, he sprinted to his room and locked the door behind him. Faustus couldn’t let his parents, especially his father, see his panic.

It didn’t make sense. How could his mother be happy about this? Why would she willingly leave him? She promised. 

She promised she’d always be there for him. Why? Why would she now think it was okay to leave him alone with his father? Trembling, Faustus threw one of his books across the room before snatching a pillow and using it to muffle his screams.  

Then it dawned on him. His mother was pretending; she had to be. There was no other explanation. She was pretending to be excited as to not provoke his father. Yes, of course. Even now she was likely planning, packing and soon they would run. Soon this would all be behind them. Delighted and relieved at his revelation, Faustus dropped the pillow and swiftly left his room.

But when Faustus slipped down the hall and into his mother’s, she wasn’t in the midst of packing, she wasn’t crying or upset. Instead, she was lounging on her bed, popping blueberries into her mouth as another witch begrudgingly rubbed her calves.

Stunned, Faustus gaped at the pair. “Mo-, mother?” He managed, hovering in the door.

“Faustus, darling, come in.” She waved him over and he approached warily. “You know Mildred, she’s my handmaiden.” His mother added the last part with a poorly attempted whisper and a wink as she ate another berry.

He glanced at Mildred and nodded politely before quickly averting his eyes. Mildred always made him anxious, her fervent desire to be eaten disturbed him. “Mother, are,” his eyes flickered to Mildred again uncertainly. “What do you plan to do tonight.” Faustus tried to be as vague as possible, not trusting Mildred, all while attempting to put an urgency in his eyes.

Melting back into her pillows, his mother smiled lazily. “I plan to spend the rest of the night in bed, Faust, letting Mildred fulfill her sacred duty as handmaiden. I plan to eat delicious foods and bathe in sweet milk to prepare myself for the coven and the Dark Lord; for I am His tomorrow.”

Horror filled him again as he saw the truth in his mother’s eyes. “You,” Faustus swallowed hard, “you plan to stay here all night?” Doing his best not to fidget, Faustus stepped a bit closer. “Wouldn’t, wouldn’t you like to go on a walk with me, mother?” Eyes peeking at Mildred again, but the witch was muttering to herself not paying them the least bit of attention.

If he could just get her alone, if he could just get her outside the house and outside of the wards then, then they’d be okay. Then he could talk sense into her, and they could get away.

She shook her head and popped another blueberry into her mouth. “Oh, Faust, that’s sweet but no. Mama is the star, no, the Queen of this Feast. I plan to prepare myself for the Dark Lord to the best of my ability.”

Bewildered and broken, Faustus backed out of the room, forcing his tears back and ran only once he was out of sight. Unable to comprehend who the woman in the bed was, because she certainly wasn’t his mother. 

~~~~

He made himself sick the next morning; cast a spell, even drank a potion just in case, so he threw up a few times and spiked a fever.

Anything to get him out of attending the Feast. Anything to keep him from seeing his mother happily slit her throat and be consumed by the coven.

Seeing right through it, his father countered his hasty spell work and grabbed him by the back of the neck, propelling him out of the house and towards the church.

All throughout the ceremony, Faustus kept his eyes locked on a crack in the back wall of the church. He stood when he was supposed to, knelt, said the proper responses... but he didn’t have to look.

He wouldn’t look.

But he couldn’t ignore how everyone else surged forward when his mother’s body hit the ground. Couldn’t block out the sounds, no matter how hard he tried.

And then... then his father dug his nails into the back of Faustus’ neck once more, practically dragging him forward and forcing him to his knees next to his mother’s mutilated corpse.

Well, he’d kneel next to her, pay homage to the witch who used to be his mother. But he refused to partake any further.  

Until his father gripped his shoulder so painfully that Faustus’ mouth automatically dropped open in protest only for a piece of raw meat to be shoved inside.

Gagging, Faustus tried to spit it out only to find a spell keeping his mouth shut. Tears poured down his cheeks and he fought against the spell to no avail.

“Chew and swallow.” His father growled in his ear, eyes glinting dangerously. “Chew and swallow like a man or I’ll make you eat more. Don’t embarrass me, son.”

With an immense effort, Faustus choked it down and only then did his father release him and turn back to eating more for himself.

Faustus took the opportunity to leave, lurching to his feet and stumbling out of the church. He made it around the corner of the building before he got sick.

Sobbing, Faustus made his way home, stopping periodically to dry heave a few feet off the wooded path. All the way wondering why the Dark Lord got to have his mother and he didn’t. Wondering why his mother picked the Dark Lord over him. Why she had left him alone with his father.

He was her son. He was the one she was supposed to love, supposed to take care of, supposed to protect. But she hadn’t. And not because it was out of her control, no, his mother had chosen the Dark Lord over her own son.

And despite the rage broiling within him at this knowledge, when he got home Faustus climbed into his mother’s bed and pressed his face into her pillow; determined to drown himself in her scent and memory. 

~~~~

When he’d finally gotten his bearings back, pushed his grief down far enough he could ignore it, Faustus threw himself into research. Every spare hour was spent reading, for the sole purpose of finding other powerful beings. Satan didn’t deserve his faith, his loyalty. Not when He’d stolen his mother, and especially not in that manner. Faustus was desperate to find something, anything, he could place his faith in, something to guide him, help him. 

It took years.

And it wasn’t until after he signed the Book of the Beast and had access to the academy library that Faustus found something concrete. He was sitting in the library with Zelda, their feet intertwined under the table in case Edward decided to pry, and he was surprised she couldn’t feel how he was practically vibrating with excitement at his discovery.

Hecate.

A powerful being, considered the Goddess of witchcraft and magic, daughter to titans. Actual titans.

Faustus grinned and eagerly turned the page, still stunned he’d found such an entry in a schoolbook—it would be considered blasphemy by anyone else. It was an unholy miracle, such luck... His heart stuttered, fell, then hardened, at the next entry.

Only, only witches could access their magic through Hecate?

Forcing back the damned tears pricking his eyes, Faustus reread the passage. Then again when the words before him didn’t change. He’d finally found a being that could rival the Dark Lord and, and She wouldn’t even look at him, wouldn’t give him a moment’s thought if he tried to pray to Her.

Because he was male.

Forsaken first by his mother, his protector, and now he was being forsaken by this Hecate too? A snarl formed on Faustus’ lips and his body stiffened.

Zelda’s voice captured his attention. “What’s got you in such a snit?” She hadn’t missed his sudden change in demeanor.

Schooling his face, Faustus ripped the pages from the book. “Nothing.” He balled up the paper, wishing he could set it on fire but knowing that would only draw Cassius’ attention and then he’d get in trouble for fire magic in the library and for what he was reading. “Come, we’ve got to get to class.” He threw the paper away, stuffing it deep into the bin; burying the pages along with his hope. Zelda didn’t follow right away though, she hesitated and peered back at the bin, clearly curious about what he’d read.

A shiver of fear shot through Faustus as he watched her take a micro step towards the bin, evidently unappeased by his non-answer. He couldn’t lose her too, though, couldn’t be forsaken by Zelda.

Zelda was the only one who cared anymore.

His teachers only cared about his intelligence and grades, his father only cared for his potential to bring glory to the Blackwood name, Edward only cared what Faustus could give him.... No, Zelda was the only one who truly cared. He couldn’t lose her to Hecate.

He couldn’t lose her to something, not when it was impossible for him to follow.

“Zelda!” He snapped, glaring at her. He got an arched brow and pursed lips in return, letting him know he’d pay for his discourtesy later. But Zelda picked up her bag and followed him, arms crossing over her chest.

Exhaling in relief, Faustus tried to engage her in conversation as they moved through the academy, but Zelda was still mad at him and he wasn’t fully committed to the act. His mind already coming up with where else he could look for beings worthy of his faith. 

~~~

“The Eldritch Terrors.” He whispered aloud to himself, not daring to believe his eyes. Not daring to believe that after years of searching he’d found yet another option.

Could it be true? More god-like beings that could rival the Dark Lord, and these ones who would answer his calls and prayers? Heart pounding, Faustus delved back into the book; desperate for more.

[frizz22]

Hi, can you write part 2 of "Rebuked" in which Edward have a fight with his sister about her night out? The next day when Edward is not at home, she invite Faustus and it all ends up with hot make out session in the kitchen; then Edward walks on them with Diana. Zelda is furious and she leaves Greendale, going to Europe. A few weeks later Faustus joins her.

Very specific but I like it, haha. I did change one detail for the sake of timeline—you’ll see that when I get to it. Hope you still enjoy! Part 1 here Read on ao3

Edward was happily making himself a cup of tea when he realized that the only reason he’d gained this insight on Faustus was because his sister had been going behind his back for Satan knew how long. Setting the kettle down with exaggerated care, he stormed up the stairs and threw Zelda’s bedroom door open with a bang.

His sister bolted up, hair a mess and blinking in confusion, though there was a spell in her hand in preparation for self-defense. If Edward hadn’t been so furious, he might have been proud at her reaction time and instincts.

When Zelda realized it was him, the spell dissipated, and she flopped back onto her mattress. “What do you want, Edward?” She groaned; an arm thrown over her face. “And why can’t it wait until later?”

Stomping over, Edward snatched the comforter off the bed and threw it onto the ground.

Zelda shot back up, fire in her eyes where annoyance had been moments before. “What the fuck?” She demanded, swinging her legs off the bed and standing; preparing for a fight.

“Faustus Blackwood?!” He exclaimed, his face already going red. 

Brow furrowing, Zelda stared at him, baffled. “What about him?”

Her reaction gave Edward pause, made him doubt for a second, because there was no trace of guilt… of anything. But Faustus hadn’t turned up out of nowhere with a marriage proposition. Shaking off his doubt, Edward plunged ahead. “Out of all the men in the coven, you had to sleep with him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Edward. Faustus and I—” She continued to deny, and it angered him even further.

Stalking closer, Edward only stopped when he was towering over her. “Thought you could get away with it.” He interrupted with a growl. “But you didn’t. Faustus missed the memo, gave it away. He was just here.”

Excitement sparked in his sister’s eyes at the news, though the rest of her face remained neutral. “Was he now?” When he didn’t elaborate, Zelda shrugged a shoulder. “I can see who I please. You have no say in the matter.” She raised a brow in challenge.

“I have plenty to say in the matter,” Edward retorted; and though he badly wanted to throw the rejected proposal in her face as evidence, he held back. Knowing if he revealed this to Zelda she would do something rash. “You will not date him. You will not sleep with him. Heaven, you won’t even see him again.” Edward emphasized each order with a slash of his hand. “Faustus Blackwood isn’t appropriate for you to have a relationship with. He—”

Zelda was already rolling her eyes and turning away from him to pick up her blanket, likely to go back to bed.

Infuriated, he grabbed her arm and yanked Zelda back round so she faced him once more. “You will not dishonor the Spellman name by being Blackwood’s slut.” Edward ground out; his face close to Zelda’s.

Jaw set, Zelda pointedly looked at his bruising grip on her arm and then back at him. “Let. Go.” She ordered, voice hard.

“You won’t see him again.” He commanded, releasing her with a little shove. One that tangled her feet in the blanket still on the ground and sent her crashing into her vanity. “Be a whore if you must—Satan knows your reputation has already suffered—but you won’t be Blackwood’s whore.”

Rage contorted his sister’s features as she leveraged herself up slowly, rolling her shoulder painfully. “You’re mistaken, brother,” she spat the title and continued to roll her shoulder by made no move to heal it. “I was a slut or a whore, whichever adjective you prefer. I happily enjoyed the company of numerous witches and warlocks since my dark baptism.” Edward did his best not to flinch at the news, though gossip did reach his ears now and then, he’d always done his best to ignore the rumors that went around about Zelda; because they were normally true. But Zelda didn’t miss the action and smiled maliciously at him before continuing. “But for the first time in years I’m a one partner witch. Faustus and I have a faithful relationship, we—”

A harsh laugh escaped Edward’s lips and he paced away before rounding on Zelda. “Faithful?!” He repeated incredulously, “faithful? Faustus Blackwood is an insatiable whore and would never be committed to a single person; let alone you.”

Sneering at him, Zelda shook her head. “You know nothing about what is between Faustus and I. And even if he was a whore, never to be faithful to me, it’d still be my decision to make whether I wanted to be involved with him. Or involved with anyone, for that matter. You can’t control me, Edward,” she ran a hand through her hair agitatedly. “You’re not father and even if you were, you’d still have no right—”

He slapped her then, hard enough to split her lower lip and it stunned him.

Though clearly stunned as well, Zelda regained herself quickly and slapped him back with just as much strength. “Get out of this room, now,” she snarled, “before I set you on fire.” Her fists clenched at her sides and magic pulsed in the air.

Edward stepped away from her and blindly reached for the door until his hand connected with the knob. Though he’d come in her to confront Zelda about her behavior, he certainly hadn’t intended for it to be so physical. Opening the door, he hesitated, taking in his sister’s split lip, the finger-shaped bruises on her arm and how she was still unconsciously rolling her shoulder.

For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt, but he buried it. He was the head of the Spellman house, and he had to uphold the family name not only by advancing as much as he could in terms of becoming high priest, but also by ensuring his siblings didn’t do anything to besmirch the name. And that included messing with his plans by sleeping with people he deemed a threat to his advancement. “Zelda—”

She hurled the first thing she could grab at him, a hairbrush, and she must have added some speed with a spell because when he shut the door to block the object it dented the wood a bit.

Sniffing and straightening his shirt, Edward walked down the hall to his room. He healed his cheek as he went; he had plans to meet a woman he’d been seeing later and it wouldn’t do to have a red handprint blazing against his skin.

~~~~~~~~~

Zelda stood, seething, staring at the door for some time after her brother left. Though he’d become more controlling since taking over the family, she’d never expected this of him. Well, she could have anticipated his reaction to Faustus, to an extent…. But she wouldn’t have guessed he’d become violent with her.

Picking up her blanket and throwing it onto the bed, Zelda waved a hand to fix the displaced objects on her vanity. That was when she caught her reflection in the mirror; her lip was swollen and bleeding a bit, there were finger-shaped bruises on her forearm and her shoulder still throbbed.

Carefully tracing a finger over her lip, the injury healed itself. Zelda left the other injuries, wanting to leave them as a reminder to Edward; though she did dull the aching in her shoulder. As she made to climb back into bed, still wanting a few hours of sleep, the wards shimmering distracting her; Edward had left.

Sleep forgotten and in a clear act of defiance, also in part wanting to be comforted by the man she spent most of her time with, Zelda messaged Faustus and invited him over to the house. He arrived quickly enough, much to her pleasure; though she was careful not to show it.

“I take it your plans for my brother didn’t go well.” She remarked, opening the front door for him and then walking away, heading for the kitchen.

Faustus scowled, pride still wounded from the very recent rejection. Even if he had a new plan, it did nothing to soothe the deep burning he felt at how smug Edward had been, how superior when he rebuked Faustus. He had no intention of telling Zelda about the proposal, he couldn’t give her that much power over him. Right now, they seesawed, first he had the upper hand, then her; back and forth, it was a game. One they both enjoyed. If he revealed he wanted to marry her, even if Zelda felt as he suspected, it would give her the upper hand indefinitely.

So, avoiding the question, Faustus stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “What makes you say that?” He asked, trailing after her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Zelda cocked an eyebrow. “Because he just lectured me on dating ‘inappropriate’ men, rather heatedly,” she muttered the last part under her breath and Faustus frowned. Before he could question it, Zelda spun to let her eyes sweep over him as she continued into the kitchen; walking backwards. “Which is rich, coming from him. Edward only chases inappropriate women, and not just women, but mortal ones at that. At least mine’s a warlock.”

Eyes widening, Faustus stared at her. He was hers, was he? A tiny flicker of his fingers had Zelda’s feet freezing to the floor, halting her next to the table.

She looked to her feet and then brought her eyes back to his, a spark there. “Faustus,” she murmured, tone equally a warning and an invitation.

He smiled wickedly at her, “yours?” Faustus repeated, taking long, measured steps towards her and it was Zelda’s turn for her eyes to widen.

“Just a figure of sp—”

Faustus grabbed her by the hips then and deposited her onto the table, lips capturing hers. One hand trailed up her body to tangle in her hair while the other remained locked on her hip. She gasped into his mouth and pulled him closer, opening her legs and wrapping them around his waist.

A groan rumbled in his throat at the contact and he unashamedly ground against her, his hand slipping around her back to press her closer to him. Not one to be passive, Zelda slipped her tongue into his mouth as she locked her heels behind his thighs to keep him close so she could meet his grinds in turn. The table started to creak ominously underneath them, but neither of them paused to consider that the piece of furniture might not hold.

Zelda had just slipped her hands under his shirt, having untucked and unbuttoned it, and he was looking to return the favor when a small feminine gasp sounded that was nothing like the glorious noises Zelda usually made.

Reluctantly breaking their kiss, Zelda turned towards the door where she knew her sister must be standing. It was only when she realized that it wasn’t Hilda, that the order to go away died in her throat. Faustus didn’t notice, his mouth now preoccupied with leaving a trail of sucking kisses along her neck—he’d assumed it was Hilda too. And, well, given how this wouldn’t have been the first time Hilda caught them, Zelda couldn’t blame Faustus for not even turning his head at the interruption; his hips still rutting deliciously into hers.

It took her a moment to overcome her lust fogged brain to register that Edward was standing next to the strange girl in the doorway, his face thunderous. Losing that time to come to her senses meant Zelda couldn’t warn Faustus before Edward was striding towards them.

“Blackwood!” Her brother roared, yanking Faustus back by the collar of his shirt; the action almost pulled Zelda off the table as well; her legs had still been hooked around the warlock. “I made myself clear,” Edward added as Faustus stumbled back, and before he could collect himself—still surprised the intruder wasn’t Hilda, Edward punched him in the jaw.

“Edward!” Zelda launched herself off the table and shoved her brother back; her fury matching his, if not greater.

Her brother whirled around to face her, a vein pulsing in his neck. “I told you to stay away from him. And I told you,” he jabbed a finger into Faustus’ chest where he stood massaging his jaw, “there was no way in Heaven.”

Blood boiling, Zelda clenched her fists to prevent a spell from flying. “Yes, because he’s such an inappropriate man?” Her eyes traveled over to the woman still standing the doorway, apparently too stunned to leave. “How old are you?” She demanded.

Clearly startled at being addressed, the woman jumped. “I’m sorry?”

“Your age. How old are you?”

Licking her lips, the woman fidgeting with the end of her sweater. “Twenty-six. What does that—”

Zelda slowly spun to face her brother, lips curling in disgust. “Another one? When will you learn, big brother?” She asked slowly, shaking her head. “What’s your name?” Zelda turned her attention back to the woman.

“Meg—, Megan.” She stuttered, unsure why she was being interrogated in such a manner.

Closing the distance between the mortal and herself, Zelda tilted her head slightly. “Don’t expect to be around long, Megan. You’re the third one in as many months that my brother has brought home.” She glanced over at Edward who was fuming, “and he calls me the slut.” With that, Zelda marched from the room, leaving a horrified mortal in her wake.

Huffing in amusement, Faustus made to follow the fiery witch, only for Edward to catch his arm.

“Stay. Away.” The younger man growled, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

Faustus smirked. “I will when she tells me to,” he remarked, both of them knowing Zelda’s stance on the matter and who she would side with. When he made to leave again, Edward redoubled his hold and Faustus knew he’d have bruises; the thought bringing some of Zelda’s words from earlier to mind—that Edward had gotten ‘heated’ with her. “Is this what you did to force Zelda to listen to your lecture?” Faustus looked pointedly at his arm and back at Edward, anger building up inside him quickly.

“What happens between my sister and I is of no concern of yours.” Edward muttered, though his cheeks turned red, giving him away.

That was evidence enough for Faustus, he sent a spell through his arm to shock Edward, who released him with a yelp of surprise and pain as he shook his hand. “If you touch her in such a way again…” Faustus let the threat trail off, a snarl tugging his lips. He then turned to follow Zelda once more, wanting to know why she hadn’t been more forthcoming about Edward’s confrontation.

Before Faustus could get more than a few steps, though, a spell bodily lifted him up and expelled him from the house and then proceeded to drag across the grounds until his was off Spellman property. When he tried to reenter, Faustus found himself blocked. Grumbling, Faustus teleported away, figuring he’d message Zelda later about why he hadn’t gone after her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Faustus hadn’t followed her. Though somewhat surprised, Zelda brushed it off. She had more important matters to attend to; such as packing. Though she’d considered leaving before, it’d never been a truly serious option for her. The academy was here, her family… Faustus. But Edward, Edward was no longer the brother she’d known all her life. If Zelda were to be honest, he hadn’t been the same since their father died. He’d become beyond controlling and while there were occasions where they got physical with one another, used the Cain pit, this morning had been different.

Dark thoughts swirled in Zelda’s head as she packed, wondering if her plans to get away without Edward following would truly work. If she was quick enough, they just might. Her clothes had just finished folding and shrinking themselves so they all fit into one suitcase when a knock sounded on the door and it was cracking open.

Panic seized Zelda and she launched herself at the door to slam it shut again; sure it was Edward. An affronted, “Zelda!” Sounded from the other side and she sighed in relief before admitting her sister into the room.

Casting her an odd look, Hilda walked in warily. It was only when she saw the suitcase, noticed Zelda’s vanity was packing itself that her eyes went round with realization. “You’re leaving?” She whispered, glancing at the door behind her as if to check for Edward.

Sniffing, Zelda made to shrug nonchalantly but winced, her shoulder still tender. “Yes,” she stated primly, trying to play off the pain, “it’s high time I went out on my own. Can’t live here forever.”

Brow furrowing, Hilda took a step closer to her and poked her shoulder experimentally. Zelda couldn’t help the small yelp that escaped her and she swatted Hilda’s hand away. Pressing her lips together, Hilda took Zelda’s arm and started to probe it, carefully sending healing spells into her as she worked. “Did Eddie do this?” She asked softly, though from her tone it seemed she already knew.

“Perhaps,” she muttered, though her body relaxed as the pain eased in her shoulder.

Frowning, Hilda finished her exam and sat on the edge of Zelda’s bed. “Why not heal it yourself?” Zelda turned away from her sister, not wanting to admit it’d been for petty reasons, an attempt to make Edward feel guilty later. But Hilda knew both her and Edward too well and a long, exasperated sigh left her as she shook her head. “That’s not why you’re leaving though, is it? It’s because of Faustus.”

Shocked by her sister’s perception, Zelda saw no reason to deny that Faustus was a big part of her decision; not that she expected him to follow her. “I’m leaving because Edward keeps trying to control me and I refuse to be. I can see who I want, whether that is Faustus or someone else.” She came and sat next to Hilda on the bed, bumping her shoulder against her sister’s. “Edward and I cannot live in the same house anymore, Hildie. It’s too volatile between us,” Zelda gestured vaguely with her hands, unsure how to convey her relationship with their brother. “And I won’t be controlled.” She repeated firmly, standing and moving to pack up some photos.

To her surprise, Hilda stood and started to help her, folding some of the quilts she’d made Zelda over the years and shrinking them to fit in the suitcase as well. Together they finished packing in a matter of fifteen minutes, magic speeding up the process.

She paused and spun slowly, taking in the room she’d lived in most her life; making sure she hadn’t missed anything. When she stopped, she was facing Hilda who had tears in her eyes. An affectionate smile touched her lips and she pulled her little sister into a hug.

“I can’t tell you where I’m going,” Zelda murmured sadly, “Edward is sure to go through your memories so he can follow me and bring his wayward sister home. I can’t risk that.” She pulled back and framed Hilda’s face, brushing away some of the tears that had fallen. “But I’ll send postcards,” Zelda promised, tone brighter to try and raise Hilda’s spirits. “I’ll send them as I’m leaving a place, so by the time you get them I’ll be long gone and Edward can’t find me.” Stepping away, Zelda picked up her suitcase and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll call you on the mirror when I can. Take care of yourself, Hilda.”

A watery smile spread across her sister’s face and she pulled Zelda into another hug. “Me? I’ll be here, as always. You’re the one that needs to be safe.”

Shaking her head, Zelda broke the hug and took Hilda’s chin in her free hand. “If he comes after you, you contact me immediately. Immediately. You hear me? Use the witching board, the mirror—I’ll have my pocket one on me at all times, alright?”

Hilda took Zelda’s hand in hers and squeezed, “he won’t. We don’t fight like you two do.”

It wasn’t good enough, Zelda knew that, in time, Hilda would do something Edward found less than fitting for the Spellman name and without her there to run interference or to draw his ire with her more inappropriate behavior, he would turn on Hilda. It was almost enough for her to unpack her suitcase right then.

As if sensing this, Hilda tucked a stray lock of hair behind Zelda’s ear. “He won’t. But if, and I mean if, he does… I promise to contact you, okay?”

A shaky exhale of relief left Zelda, and though she still felt guilt at leaving Hilda behind she knew she couldn’t stay. Pulling a letter from her pocket, Zelda handed it to Hilda with a whispered spell, hiding it from Edward’s probing should he go this far into Hilda’s memory. “You know who this is for,” she murmured, releasing the envelope a little reluctantly. Leaving it here made her feel vulnerable, as if she were admitting something better left unsaid. “You’ll only be able to give it to him if he asks.” She added, it was her only concession, the only reason she felt she could leave it in the first place. Because if he asked, then technically he was taking the first step, not her.

With one final goodbye, Zelda teleported away; Marseille, France her first destination.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn’t seen Zelda in over a week. She hadn’t responded to any of his messages and he was turned away at the perimeter of the Spellman property every time he tried to visit. It was possible Edward had bound her to the house, punishing her as though she were a child and not a witch nearing her first half century.

It wasn’t the first time Edward isolated his sister in an attempt to rein Zelda in, but it was the first she hadn’t immediately defied him in some way. Perhaps it truly had turned physical during the siblings’ last altercation, and that was why Zelda was keeping her distance. Faustus had intended to determine if Edward had hurt her for certain the next time he saw Zelda, but he couldn’t seem to find the chance.

Which was what led to him cornering the youngest Spellman sister at the academy. Taking her elbow and hurriedly leading her into an empty classroom as the rest of their classmates made for the dining hall. “Where is she?” He implored, not wasting any time once the door was shut behind them.

Hilda smiled widely at him, and much to his confusion, she handed him a letter. “I knew you’d ask,” she breathed, eyes twinkling. “Give her my love.” The blonde squeezed his forearm and departed, leaving him bewildered.

Unable to wait, Faustus sealed the room and ripped the letter open, recognizing Zelda’s handwriting at once.

Faustus,

If you’re reading this, well, you’ve already surprised me.

He scoffed at the words but was thrilled she’d taken the effort to write a letter. Edward must be monitoring all other forms of communication, forcing her to resort to this mortal means. Turning back to the letter, Faustus read on.

I cannot remain in Greendale any longer. Living with my brother, he, he has become superior; intolerably so. I refuse to allow him to try and dictate my life and I refuse to endure his tantrums when I do not follow his commands.

So, I left. I suppose there are some who would call it running away. I considered it running towards something. And though I do not expect you to leave Greendale, do not expect you to leave the life you’ve built, have been working towards for years… I leave you this.

A small charm appeared in his hand, a tingling sensation shooting through his skin when it made contact. Images flashed through Faustus’ mind and suddenly he knew exactly where Zelda was in Europe. She’d left him a map. A map that would lead straight to her no matter how often she picked up and traveled. Marveling at the charm, turning it over between his fingers, Faustus drug his gaze back to the letter.

Though I know it is foolish, I hope to see you. Satan knows why I’ve put my faith in us. In whatever it was we were building. But our time together meant something to me. If it meant anything to you, anything… please find me. At least once. At least to say goodbye.

If I do not hear from you, I will assume you’ve moved on. Found some other willing witch or warlock, maybe both, and took them to bed. I won’t begrudge you that. Heaven knows there are easier partners within the coven; ones without Edward as a sibling.

Should this be the case, I wish you well, Faustus.

          Zels

P.S. If you need a reference when you become high priest, should Edward truly grow the balls needed to challenge you, I am more than happy to provide one.  

Faustus slumped heavily against one of the tables in the room. She was gone. Left without a word. Well, some words, he amended, scanning the letter once more. But she hadn’t anticipated him asking after her, had enchanted the letter so Hilda could only give it to him if he broached the topic first.

Had she really doubted him that much? Truly thought she meant so little to him? Maybe, but maybe not. She’d left him a way to find her; one that she hadn’t even given to her sister based on how the youngest Spellman asked him to relay her love. Zelda wouldn’t have done that if she thought he would reject her invitation.

It was then he realized Hilda had anticipated his approach. That him pulling her aside was only a matter of time in her mind, and her words conveyed that she expected him to chase after Zelda as well. Faustus should be upset. That he was so easy to read, to predict; though to be fair he and Zelda once had a lengthy discussion as to whether Hilda was an empath or not—her actions today only evidenced their suspicions further.

Though it irked him slightly that Hilda could guess his next move, Faustus couldn’t find it in himself to care that much. Instead, he pocketed the letter and the charm, running his fingers over the trinket as he left the classroom and headed for home, joy flowing through him.

Yes, he’d follow the trail Zelda left for him. While he may be the one chasing after her, she’d been the one to lay the path first; offering him the chance, holding out her hand and asking him to jump. Faustus was more than willing to do just that.

But first, he had matters to attend to here in Greendale.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks had passed since Zelda had left. In that time, she’d spoken with Hilda often… far more frequently than when they lived together. They were careful, only talking with one another when Hilda was away from the house and only using secure mirrors or witching boards.

Hilda told her Edward had been wroth; that his magical outburst destroyed most of Zelda’s bedroom when he’d discovered it empty later the night she’d fled. Their brother had gone on and on, calling Zelda an ingrate, disrespectful, a whore. But he hadn’t made a move towards Hilda, even when he discovered her part in Zelda’s flight. He’d stopped speaking to her for several days, but aside from that, hadn’t taken Zelda’s actions out against her sister—for which she was immensely relieved.

In all their discussions, Zelda dared not ask after Faustus. Not wanting to know the answer one way or the other. Either he’d forgotten her or he’d asked Hilda about her, read the letter and run; wanting nothing to do with the clingy witch she’d come across as. Whichever it was… she’d yet to hear a single thing from him.

It shouldn’t have surprised her. The silence, the absence… and if she was honest, it didn’t, not really. But that didn’t stop it from hurting. From the ache that developed and settled deep in her chest, one that throbbed whenever she thought of Faustus, whenever she thought she caught sight of his profile in a crowded square, whenever she thought she heard his silky voice.

Her first month passed with little fanfare, she’d moved often, just in case her spells didn’t hold against Edward; though she’d only felt the telltale buzzing in the back of her mind a few times, alerting her that Edward was searching for her. Other than that, he brother was either content to leave Zelda be, which she doubted, or more likely he thought she’d return after cooling down… how wrong he was. Which meant she was currently residing in a little flat she’d rented from an elderly woman who owned a seamstress and tailoring shop with her husband. It’d taken some convincing, not many young women lived on their own in Spain at this time; but a little spell had the woman giving Zelda a fair rent and fewer glares for her chosen lifestyle than others would have.

The day passed swiftly, Zelda spending her time touring the lesser known parts of town and testing out her Spanish on native speaker for the first time in ages. She was returning home when movement caught her eye from one of the dark side alleys.

A spell leapt to her hand immediately, ready to take on whatever dense male saw her as potential prey, ready to show that she was, in fact, the predator in this situation. Only, only when the man stepped from the shadows, Zelda’s hand fell to her side, useless. “Faustus?”

“Zels,” he breathed, closing the distance between them and crashing his lips to hers.

When they broke, Zelda ran a hand lightly over his face, trying to recommit Faustus’ features to memory. “You, you…” She smiled and scoffed quietly in disbelief before kissing him again.

Grinning against her lips, Faustus answered her unspoken question. “Of course.” He lifted her and carried her up into her flat, lips alternating between consuming hers and smiling. Faustus pushed into the flat with a whispered spell and took Zelda to bed.

As they laid together after, Zelda pressed against his side despite the heat and Faustus’ arm wrapped around her tightly as though afraid she’d disappear again, Zelda couldn’t help but voice her amazement at his presence.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She admitted in a whisper, tracing his tattoos and keeping her eyes on his chest. While she was ecstatic he was, a small part of her wondered if this was just him coming to say goodbye—like she’d requested in her letter.

Faustus’ free hand gently tilted her chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Why wouldn’t I be? You asked—”

Sighing, Zelda rolled away from him and wrapped the sheet around her before sitting up, much to Faustus’ protest. “I did,” she conceded, picking at the fabric. “But I wasn’t sure you’d even receive the letter, let alone come.” She shrugged, trying to play off how much of herself she’d bared in that damned letter. And despite how pleased she was that he was there, Zelda knew she’d tipped the scales heavily in Faustus’ favor and she was unlikely to ever regain the ground she’d given up.

Stunned, Faustus pushed himself up as well and leaned against the headboard. “You didn’t think I’d even ask after you?” The hurt in his voice had Zelda looking up from her lap and into his eyes, and what she saw there took her breath away. “Of course, I asked after you. Of course, I came. I—” Faustus speared a hand through his disheveled hair in frustration. “This,” he gestured between them, “us, it means something to me. A lot.” He reached over and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb along her skin.

“So,” Zelda swallowed, knowing she was laying it all on the table, holding nothing back now. “You didn’t just come to say goodbye?” And oh, how she hated how her voice trembled at the question, but she had to know. Had to know if he was just going to leave after sleeping with her one last time.

“No!” Faustus exclaimed, startling her in his volume and he smiled ruefully. “No,” he repeated, much softer this time. “I came to stay. I’m sorry it took so long, but there were matters to attend to in Greendale that I had to get in order before leaving.”

Blinking, Zelda could only stare at him for a moment. “You’re here to stay?” She breathed, not daring to trust her own ears.

Faustus smiled crookedly at her, “yes.”

“But, you’re, you’re training to become the next high priest in Greendale. Your entire life—”

He cut her off with a light kiss. “Is easily transferred to another location, as you’ve found in the process of moving your own.” Faustus lifted a brow. “And you’d be amazed how many Churches of Darkness there are that are in need of a high priest over here.” He quipped, sounding rather pleased with himself and his planning.

Still stunned, Zelda shook her head. “You’d really move here? With me?” There was a pause, though Zelda thought it was more from an internal debate than him reconsidering his actions to uproot his life.

Sighing, Faustus shrugged. “Of course. I mean, I did ask Edward for your hand. I’d already committed to the idea of my life changing because of you; perhaps not in this way, but—”

Zelda reared back, “you what?!” She demanded, gripping his forearm tightly.

A smile quirked the corner of Faustus’ lips. “I asked Edward for permission to marry you. An archaic tradition even by witching standards, but I saw no reason to spurn it when it was supposed to be a mere formality. Not an actual chance for Edward to rebuke me; which he did.” Faustus added in a grumble.

“You wanted to marry me?” And Zelda wanted to curse Edward for making this decision for her, for not even consulting her about it.

Tucking some of her hair back, Faustus leaned in and kissed her slowly. “I want to marry you.” He corrected, leaning his forehead against hers. “Will you do me the honor?”

Laughing a little in disbelief, Zelda closed the limited distance between them and kissed him again. “Yes.” She murmured, her lips brushing his at the word.

Faustus pulled back, eyes bright and smile brilliant. “Truly?” When she nodded eagerly in return, his smile widened in delight and he rolled away from her, hanging half off the bed to grab something. As he sat back up, he produced a ring and slid it onto her finger. “There, perfect.”

She couldn’t help but admire the ring, it was gorgeous. Bringing her eyes back to Faustus, she realized something. “This was your plan, with Edward. This was why he was so furious with me. Because not only had you revealed our relationship, but you asked for this.” She gestured to the ring now snug on her hand.

“To be honest, I didn’t anticipate him reacting so poorly.” Faustus admitted, leaning against the headboard once more, only this time he pulled her into his side as he did.

A slight scoff escaped her, “well, a few things make sense now.” She murmured, hand coming up unconsciously to touch the lip her brother had split with his slap several weeks ago.

Her movement didn’t go unnoticed and Faustus carefully took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “Did he hurt you?” Zelda huffed and averted her eyes, not wanting to ruin the euphoria radiating through her with thoughts of that day. “Is that why you left? Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked at her imploringly, and when she didn’t answer, he wrapped both arms around her. “You could’ve come and lived with me… in Greendale.”

The words had her pulling back so she could see his face. “I—, Faustus,” she touched his cheek sweetly, “Edward would never have allowed it.” Zelda stated, a sad smile on her face for what could have been their life in Greendale, with her family, if only Edward hadn’t forced them to leave.

Rolling his eyes, Faustus kissed her palm. “I’m sure we could have convinced him, probably still could. Edward brought a mortal into your home, for Satan’s sake. Surely, we—”

“No, we couldn’t have. That wasn’t the first time Edward brought a mortal woman home, certain he’s in love.” She informed him, resting her head back on his shoulder, cuddling further into his side. “Only, so far, every time he reveals the truth to the mortal of the month they panic; forcing Edward to adjust their memories and sever the relationship.” Zelda exhaled slowly and then continued. “Then, then he starts again. If he’s to live what he plans to preach should he become high priest, then he needs to find a mortal mate. That, and he’s desperate to find that love he’s so jealous mortals possess.”

Faustus scoffed and shook his head. “Why? Why envy the mortals so much? Witches have a version of love, do we not?” His arms tightened around her and it set her heart racing.

Carefully, Zelda ran her fingers along one of the arms around her, keeping her eyes down. “Do we?” She asked softly, hoping she was reading the situation properly.

A quiet chuckle emanated from Faustus and he dipped his head to kiss her, bringing up a hand to keep her chin raised when he broke the kiss, making her meet his eyes. “I love you, Zelda. It is strong… it may not match what the mortals have, but—”

Zelda cut him off with a searing kiss, nipping his lip when she pulled back. “I don’t want what the mortals have.” She muttered, pressing closer against him. “I want you, and this, and whatever the future may bring. Because—” and even though Faustus said it first, Zelda found the words still stuck in her throat despite the truth in them. She’d always been told love wasn’t possible for witches, not romantic love, at least. But she found this was one thing about their kind, about their history that she was more than happy to ignore. “I love you too.”

Beaming at one another like idiots, they shuffled further under the blankets and spent the night exchanging kisses and planning their future—Edward and his rebuke be damned.

Notes: I made it some random mortal instead of Diana because this is somewhat Academy Spellwood and Diana wouldn’t be around yet. Though I think how I wrote it fits well with this version of Edward.

[frizz22]

This prompt is definitely out there (and just curiosity more than anything)... Blackwood trying to make Zelda jealous by cavorting with Hilda. Possibly at the Academy. Bonus points for Hilda love.

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry for the wait. Read on ao3

He’d done everything he could think of and Faustus still hadn’t been able to get Zelda’s attention. She humored him with smirks, haughtily raised eyebrows, and her biting wit every now and then, but nothing more.

So, he stooped to a new low. He started to pay an absurd amount of attention to Hilda. Never before had Faustus gone to such lengths to get a witch’s attention. He’d never encountered this problem before, and so, to his discontent, it required a creative approach.

The blonde was pleasant enough, pretty and sweet, smart without flaunting it. And Faustus was surprised to find that he didn’t mind Hilda’s company. Yes, the younger Spellman was good; but she didn’t suit him. Their personalities didn’t match. 

It was Zelda’s fire and sharp, sometimes cruel, intelligence that he craved; that seemed to fit so well with his own. And to make matters worse, Zelda seemed perfectly aware of their compatibility, even seemed to experience lust of her own but was playing hard to get. Normally, he would try and turn the tables when this happened, become just as aloof himself. But with Zelda there was something that drew him towards her. Which was how he came to be continuously chasing after the only witch who left him baffled when she managed to wind him up only to walk away utterly unaffected herself.

Chasing after her by pretending he was interested in her sister.

The youngest Spellman seemed oblivious to his plan, and though she was shocked by his attention when it started, she didn’t discourage him. So, they talked more, spent more time together over the next two weeks. Culminating with him standing next to Hilda at the biannual academy dance, attempting to focus on what she was saying but his attention drifting to where Zelda was chatting with some friends wearing a stunning black dress.

It was only when Hilda placed her hand on his arm and squeezed that Faustus realized he’d been staring at Zelda for a solid two minutes. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he turned his gaze back to Hilda. “I’m sorry, what did you say? I didn’t catch it.”

“And you won’t catch her either if you keep being so obvious.” Hilda quipped, a smirk playing on her lips.

Stunned, all Faustus could do for a moment was blink. “What?” He managed to croak.

Chuckling softly, Hilda shook her head. “If you want to make my sister jealous, to get her attention you have to be less obvious.” She repeated kindly, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Licking his lips, Faustus made to deny the claim, but Hilda placed a gentle finger on his lips.

“Please don’t patronize me, Faustus. I know what you’re doing. What you’ve been doing for weeks.” She lifted a brow and took a sip of her drink. “But if you want it to work you have to be more convincing.”

Faustus took a drink of his own, using the moment to compose himself. He’d greatly underestimated Hilda. “And how do I do that?”

“Kiss me.”

Taken aback, Faustus just stared at Hilda. “What?” He asked, sounding a bit like a broken record.

Rolling her eyes, Hilda tipped up onto her toes, slid a hand around Faustus’ neck and pulled him to her for a kiss. She pulled away before he had much of a chance to respond and then pulled him in for another one, this one slightly longer.

When she broke away from him completely, Faustus found that his hands had settled on her hips of their own accord. Smiling, Hilda cocked a brow at him. “That should do it.” She grinned, kissing him chastely on the lips once more, patting his chest and winking before walking away, calling over her shoulder “have a good day, Faustus,” as she went.

Dumbfounded, all Faustus could do was stare after the blonde as she made for the refreshments table.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Faustus jumped and spun to find Zelda right behind him, an amused smirk gracing her lips. “I, uh—” He ran a hand through his hair and composed himself. “Indeed I am.” Faustus tried to reply smoothly, though he could tell Zelda was less than convinced.

Shaking her head in amusement, Zelda stepped closer to him, tilting her head back to maintain eye contact. “But would you be enjoying yourself more if you were with me?” She purred, eyes glittering darkly.

He swallowed hard and only just managed not to blurt out that yes, in fact, he would enjoy himself tremendously if he was with her. But she was just now coming round and he couldn’t act too eager. “What makes you think I’m interested in you? Your sister—”

“Told me what you were trying to do the first time you approached her.” Zelda cut in, quirking a brow.

Embarrassed that he’d been so transparent, Faustus took a drink to buy himself some time. Even with that extra moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “then why let me continue the charade?”

Zelda’s eyes drifted over to the refreshment table where her sister stood. “Because Hilda wanted to use you to make her crush jealous,” she replied, a smile forming on her lips. “And I dare say it worked,” she took his chin in her hand and redirected his gaze to where Hilda was standing. A boy, Michael, from Hilda’s year had just approached her and appeared to be asking her out; much to Hilda’s pleasure.

Faustus blinked and turned back to Zelda, at a loss for words.

Chuckling at his expense, Zelda’s smile widened. “Please Faustus, my sister is too good for you. Surely, you didn’t expect her to stoop to your level.”

Finally recovering himself, Faustus leaned in closer to Zelda. “Oh, but you will?” He intoned.

Tilting her head, as if contemplating the offer, Zelda hummed. “I prefer to think I’m bringing you up to mine. Though I don’t mind the low road every now and then.” Her smile turned wicked and her eyes darkened.

A matching smile spread across Faustus’ face before he closed the remaining distance and kissed her. They broke momentarily for Zelda to grab and his and tug him behind her to an empty classroom. And as he happily trailed after Zelda, he couldn’t help mentally thank Hilda Spellman for playing along with his scheme and helping finally bring him and Zelda together.

[frizz22]

Hello, let me tell you how I love your fics, thank you so much to keep the fandom alive !! Could you write AcademySpellwood with the way they were, how did Faustus asked Edward to marry Zelda and how he ended up 'rebuked'? Thank you 😊

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you enjoy. Read on ao3

She’d just bested him at chess… again. And from the look on her face, she wasn’t going to let him live it down. Frowning, Faustus sat back in his chair. “What next?” He asked, the spark in his eyes belying the tired tone of his voice.

Biting her lip, Zelda cocked her head and let her eyes drift over him. “The shirt, I want to see those tattoos again.” She smirked, lacing her fingers together before resting them on top of the chess board.

Faustus rolled his eyes, trying to pretend as though he didn’t love that she loved his tattoos… she’d helped him design the intricate one on his back. Slowly, Faustus dropped his suspenders from his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it aside when he finished.

Eyeing him with approval, Zelda reset the board. Her fingers lingering on the queen and then the king as she made deliberate eye contact with him and crossed one leg neatly over the other, her skirt inching up at the motion.

“Who decided strip chess was a good idea?” He asked, throat going a little dry at the action. “It takes far too long.” Oh, how he longed to run his hands up her legs and under her skirt to unhook her silk stockings from the garter he knew was hiding under the demur piece of fabric.

Zelda shrugged lightly, “I wanted to do something that took longer than 20 minutes with you for once.” She intoned, quirking a brow when she caught his eyes tracing up her legs. 

A huff escaped Faustus as he made his first move. They spent significant periods of time together, Heaven, just the other day they’d spent two hours in a hot spring hidden from mortals with layers of spells; she certainly hadn’t complained then and he told her as much.

“Fine,” Zelda acquiesced with a sigh, and she removed the tie she’d loosened earlier in the game. “Maybe I wanted to do something mentally stimulating. Have to make sure you’ve got brains as well as balls.” She drawled, countering his move on the chess board with one of her own.  

It was then he realized she was trying to goad him into abandoning their game, Zelda was growing just as impatient with their slow strip as he was… she just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

Grinning slyly, Faustus decided right then that he wouldn’t abort this little strip chess game as he’d been planning to moments before. He’d make her be the one to end it. And just like that, their afternoon turned into a battle of wills.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faustus couldn’t honestly say who broke first, though if asked he’d say Zelda and she would say him. But in the end neither one of them were very patient creatures, not ones to deny themselves what they wanted; especially when it was sitting so enticingly across the way.

So no, he didn’t know who decided the chess game was done. Couldn’t say who’d shot out of their seat first, who’d pulled who into a crashing kiss as they dragged each other to the couch. He wasn’t sure.  

But one thing he did know, one thing he was certain of, was he wanted to marry the witch currently laying against his side, her fingers absently tracing one of the tattoos on his chest. It wasn’t until recently that Faustus realized how much time he spent with Zelda. And not just with her, but exclusively with her, he hadn’t taken another partner since they’d started whatever was between them in earnest.

The revelation had stunned him. He’d never been one prone to monogamy, but neither were most witches. So, the fact that Zelda had inadvertently turned him into a one partner warlock was astounding. Not only that, but she also challenged him in every way imaginable; nothing was ever easy with her. And Faustus knew he wanted to be tested like that, by her specifically, for the rest of his life.

Any other witch would bore him.

“Zelda?” He murmured into her hair, and she stretched lazily against him in response before humming. “Stay with me tonight?” They never did that, slept together in the sense of actually resting. It set a precedent, a dangerous one, but Faustus found he wanted to throw himself off this particular cliff.

She shifted and rested her head on his chest, “really?” Her tone was light, but her eyes told another story; they always did. “But my brother…” Zelda let the sentence hang there.

Her brother, Edward, his mentee… they didn’t discuss him often when they were together. At least, not about how he wouldn’t approve of them. How, since he’d become the head of the family, Edward had gotten a sense of superiority. Going as far as to tell his sisters who they were allowed to date—not that Zelda ever abided by her older brother. In any case, the secretiveness of it all made it a more fun, increased the thrill; even when they were just studying, debating Satanic scripture, or simply talking about whatever was on their minds.

Still, they’d never gone so far as to flaunt what they were doing. Zelda did nothing to try and hide the bruises Faustus’ mouth left along her neck; but either Edward pointedly ignored them or his sister had come home in such a state often enough that he wasn’t suspicious of who’d left the marks there.

“You’ve never spent the night away from home and the academy before? Would he really be so suspicious?” He teased and Zelda hit him lightly in retaliation. Faustus chuckled, “what? It’s not like either one of us were innocent when we started this.”

Zelda settled against him once more, scoffing. “Of course not, you certainly weren’t my first. Nor would this be the first time I spent the night somewhere my brother would disapprove. But this is…” She trailed off and went back to tracing his tattoos for a moment. “This would be the first time I’d mind if Edward interfered. And if he finds out, he will interfere, he’ll try and keep us apart… and I don’t want that.” Zelda finished softly, not looking at him.

His heart pounded at the statement and Faustus was sure she could see or at least feel the drumming beat through his skin. “Leave your brother to me.” This time Zelda did look at him, a skeptical brow raised. “I have a plan,” he exclaimed, trying to sound offended by her doubt expression.

She just hummed and then laughed, unable to hold it back any longer. “I’m sure you do have a plan, just don’t expect Edward to go along with it.”

Rolling over so she was trapped beneath him, Faustus tilted his head. “I can be very persuasive.”

“Don’t I know it, Faustus.” She purred, hands skimming along his back and shoulders. “But I somehow doubt your usual wiles will work on my brother.”

Dipping his head, Faustus placed open mouth kisses along her chest and neck. “I don’t want to talk about Edward anymore, do you?”

Eyes widening in anticipation, Zelda shook her head and drew him in for a long kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Edward was surprised the next day when Faustus sought him out at home. Though they were somewhat friends, Edward and his mentor never met up outside of the church or academy. Still, he invited the warlock inside and they made themselves comfortable in the parlor.

“Is there something going on at the church that needed to be discussed immediately, Faustus?” He asked, unsure what else could be happening that couldn’t wait until Monday—Zelda had just arrived home merely 30 minutes ago, looking thoroughly debauched and proud of it. Not even bothering to try and sneak in, she’d waltzed into the kitchen grabbed some toast, winked at Hilda who blushed furiously in return, and then went upstairs calling over her shoulder that she needed some sleep after a restless night. Whatever Faustus wanted to talk about could surely wait. Edward needed to have a long discussion with his sister about upholding the Spellman name.

Shaking his head, Faustus sat on the edge of one of the armchairs, and if Edward didn’t know better, he’d say the man looked nervous. “No, I’m not here to discuss the church. Or the academy.“ He added before Edward could ask. "I’m here on a personal matter.”

Taken aback, Edward leaned back in his chair. “Alright, how, how can I help?” He was too intrigued by what this matter could be to find it odd that Faustus had come to him to discuss something personal.

Faustus took a deep breath and stilled his fidgeting. “As our tradition commands, I’ve come to ask the head of the Spellman household for Zelda’s hand in marriage.”

Silence fell, both of them just staring at one another before Edward managed to find his voice. “You’re asking for what?” He replied, certain he’d misheard… this couldn’t be happening. He’d have known about them, this couldn’t-

A small smile tugged on Faustus’ mouth before he interrupted Edward’s thoughts. “Zelda’s hand. I wish to marry your sister.”

Edward shoved out of the seat then, starting to pace. The answer was obvious. He had to say no. If he was to usurp Faustus as high priest, he could hardly have his sister marry the man. A marriage would make it seem as though the Spellmans supported Faustus—and if that happened Edward would never be able to surpass his mentor.

Shaking his head, Edward stopped pacing and turned to Faustus. “Absolutely not.” The response shocked Faustus, who wasn’t able to school his face fast enough to hide the surprise and what Edward thought might be disappointment.

Faustus stood as well, straightening his jacket. “Edward, I do not understand. Zelda and I are a good match—intellectually, spiritually. And I don’t believe she would be opposed, if I am correct Zelda holds some affection for me.”

The man was right, Zelda wouldn’t oppose, in fact she’d love the proposal. Edward wasn’t blind to his sister’s desire for more power, or to some of the looks the two exchanged. And the timing of this request, Edward could see now how it lined up suspiciously well with his sister’s night out. However, if ever there was a political match made in Hell, it was his mentor and his sister. They were both ridiculously competitive, ambitious, too smart for their own good. Should they marry they would bolster one another and lead the Church of Night into a glorious new era.

Which was exactly why he could never let it come to pass.

No, that was to be his destiny, his legacy, not Faustus’. Edward was supposed to be the one to usher the church into a new era; but in his version mortals were much more heavily involved.

But Edward certainly couldn’t tell Faustus he was rebuking him because of his own ambition, because of his own plans. So, instead of the truth, Edward latched onto the only feasible explanation. “Faustus, you are my mentor. How would it look if you married your mentee’s younger sister? The tongues in the coven would wag at the age difference. It’s hardly proper.”

It was a weak excuse, and from Faustus’ expression he knew it as well. “Edward, six years is hardly an age difference, especially among our kind. I—”

Cutting him off, Edward opened the parlor door, indicating Faustus should leave. “I’ve given you my answer. It will not change. Do not bring up this matter again.”

He could practically hear Faustus grinding his teeth, could tell his mentor badly wanted to leverage the situation in some way to get a different outcome. But this was one situation in which Edward would always have more power and there was nothing Faustus could do to change it.

With a curt nod, Faustus swept past him and out the front door. One step, he was one step closer to high priesthood. It was an unprecedented step, certainly, Edward had never anticipated Faustus asking for Zelda’s hand, but it was a welcome step all the same. Smirking, Edward went back to the kitchen, humming quietly to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faustus was seething as he stalked back to his house through the woods; not trusting himself to teleport. He’d known Edward would be against the idea, would fight him on it—he’d become ridiculously overprotective since becoming the head of the Spellman family. He just hadn’t expected such an outright refusal.

He’d gone into the situation confident he could convince Edward to allow the marriage. He’d had an argument the length of his arm to explain why he and Zelda should marry, how they were well-suited, that Zelda had expressed similar sentiments—though not quite so blatantly. But Edward hadn’t even given him a chance.

It’d stung his pride; the rejection. And Edward’s gall to try and rebuke him on propriety and age differences when the entire coven knew he liked to play with mortals who were mere children compared to most witches was salt in the wound.

Running his tongue over his teeth, Faustus found himself hating a church tradition for the first time in his life. It was an old fashioned one, certainly, but given how long witches lived they were all old fashioned by nature. The antiquity of the tradition never bothered him before. Besides, asking the male head of house for permission to marry one of his family members was supposed to be a mere formality now. Something done, but not much stock placed in the blessing.

Yet, Edward had used that tradition against him. For all of his monologues about progression, Edward had reverted back to the oldest of ways the moment it suited him. Though Faustus wasn’t quite sure how it benefited Edward to refuse the marriage, he was sure it did in some way. And it irked Faustus even further that he couldn’t figure it out.

He was tempted to teleport back to the Spellman house and find Zelda, barging past Edward and throwing tradition into the wind as he got down on one knee and presented Zelda with the bird hearts he already had tucked into his jacket pocket.

Zelda would agree, in part to spite her brother for trying to control her, but in larger part, or so Faustus liked to believe, because they were well-suited to one another. He hadn’t been lying to Edward when he claimed Zelda held some affection for him. Perhaps even more than some based on their conversation the night before.

If he wanted to be high priest, though, he couldn’t just break a tradition; no matter how tempting it might be. So, no, he wouldn’t ruin his chance at high priest to surpass the marriage tradition. No, instead, Faustus would wait until he was named high priest and then he’d ask again.

It would be much harder for Edward to deny him then. And to increase his chances of success, he might just accidently ask within Zelda’s hearing the next time. Let her weigh in on the issue—she could be very persuasive when she wanted, and Faustus had a feeling she’d want to persuade Edward to say yes; especially if he was already high priest. So, he’d have to wait a few years to marry Zelda. In the long run, what were a few extra years to a warlock?

Until then, he and Zelda could keep having their fun, though it might be a little more difficult now that Edward knew of at least Faustus’ intentions. But, he had a feeling the challenge would only make the game more enticing for he and Zelda both. Maybe Edward had done him a favor in this initial rejection, Zelda was always so fiery in bed when there were more obstacles to get there. Smiling to himself and feeling much better, Faustus went home, happy with his fool-proof plan.