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dem-obscure-imagines · 1 year

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The Way it Was Before

Bernard the Elf x Reader

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Summary: Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Note: I was literally possessed by the spirit of Christmas to write this. I still don’t understand how I whipped this up so fast. Also I have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in! Additionally, I will be uploading this to Ao3, so if you see it on there too, don't worry hahaha

Warnings: Language, a lil violence as a treat (nothing major just literally a few punches lol), a lil angst but a very happy ending <3

Word Count: 14k

Reader is: Female, 23

Well, that was it, then. It was over. You couldn’t help but feel a little torn up about it. You just weren’t cut out for the job, or maybe you didn’t have the magic for it. Whatever the reason, Mother Nature had made it clear. You were not the Spring Enchantress, and this would be your last foray into the Magical Realm for a very long time, if you ever set foot in it again.

Mother Nature had to visit Santa at the North Pole. You weren’t sure why, she didn’t tell you what she was there to pick up, but she did give you some time on your own to explore the Workshop for the last time.

Wanting to get away from the wandering eyes, you found a secluded nook and sat down, resting your head in your hands. You loved the Pole. It was so intricate and beautiful and whimsical and you would never see it again. You’d never step foot in Mother Nature’s Grotto or the Summer Isles, or even Halloweentown.

It hit you all at once and the tears came flowing before you could stop them. You just hoped none of the elves were around to find you. You didn’t want to worry them when they were already so busy.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice asked, drawing your attention to the doorway where he was standing. Bernard, the Head Elf. Your eyes wandered over his shoulder to the sign on the door. Of course, your crying spot had to be directly outside his office. Figured.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” You wiped at the tears, trying to compose yourself. You motioned to the door. “I didn’t realize…”

He shook his head. “That’s alright. Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry, I can—”

“No, you’re no bother at all. Come on in. My couch is a lot comfier than that bench there.” He motioned you forward and you hesitated, but got up and walked into his office, a large, cozy room with forest green walls, hardwood floors, a small fireplace, a cozy couch, and a desk facing it. There was a shelf of snow globes on one wall, a shelf of old leather books on another.

Bernard motioned to the couch and you took a seat while he perched himself on the edge of his desk. He plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to you, empathy etched in his brown eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It um…Mother Nature…” You spoke slowly, composing your words. “She said I’m not the Spring Enchantress like she thought. So um…I’m getting my memory wiped and heading back to the Mortal Realm. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Wiped? Like entirely?” Bernard said, horror in his voice.

“I mean, I’ll still know who I was before I started training under her, but…all of the magic stuff, all of this…” You shook your head. “I knew it was all too good to be true.”

“I am so sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wiping your tears on the tissue he’d given you. “I’m just glad she brought me here one last time. It’s so beautiful here.”

Bernard smiled softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small snow globe, waving a hand over it before handing it to you. “Even if you won’t remember this place…I’d like you to take a piece of it with you.”

You took a shaking breath, more tears flowing at his words, at the sincerity on his face, at the beautiful snow globe he’d given you. You stood to accept it and found yourself hugging him instead, seeking comfort from the most powerful elf in the Pole. His arms wrapped tight around you, comforting you at your most vulnerable.

“Thank you. So much. Even if I don’t remember it, I…I think I’ll still know. That it’s real. That all of this is.”

“Believing is Seeing.” Bernard said, meeting your eyes. “Someday, you’ll remember that.”

You hoped he was right…

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaving your Irish Folklore class, you were absolutely buzzing with ideas. It had been an amazing lesson. Your professor was very knowledgeable on all sorts of legends and fantasy creatures, where they’d come from, how stories about them had started. You, as a writer, were planning on using this knowledge to write an epic fantasy romance. You weren’t sure what exactly it would be about; you were still waiting for it to click, but you were sure it would eventually.

You walked to your favorite coffee shop, a little ways from your apartment, and grabbed a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, your favorite around this time of year, sitting down with your work at your favorite table in the corner of the shop.

You took out your notebooks, comparing the notes you’d taken in class to the ones you had left over from…before. The inklings, few though they were, that had lingered in your mind, even after Mother Nature, yes, that Mother Nature, had supposedly wiped them all from existence. Granted, there wasn’t very much left from your time with her, just a few things: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky as you…as you…no, see, there it was. Nothing.

That was all that was left, pieces. And the snow globe on your shelf that you knew was more than just a snow globe, but you couldn’t remember why. Or who’d given it to you.

Sometimes you felt crazy, pushing against the walls of your memory, begging it for just one more detail, but that was how it had been for the last three years. You knew you weren’t making it up, that it was more than just fantasy, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even your therapist. The looks wouldn’t be worth it.

So you kept these things to yourself, jotting them down to get them out of your head. Or, rather, keeping them safe in case someday Mother Nature came to finish what she started, wiping it all away for good.

You worked on an outline for a short story for your creative writing class, but you didn’t feel all that confident in it. You sipped your cocoa some more, which had cooled to perfection, and opened an article you were supposed to read for your Folklore class. Something about elves. Festive, you thought with a chuckle. It was indeed the season for that, especially since that had been your last class before Christmas. A perfect send-off for the end of the semester.

Once you’d gotten a decent amount of work done, you packed up your stuff and headed back to your apartment, setting your bag in your room. You checked a few things off of your To Do List.

Gleaming on the shelf, your snow globe caught your eye. “Believing is Seeing.” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together when you did. It sounded familiar, but…you weren’t sure why. Or what it meant.

Down in the living room, your roommates were watching Christmas movies. In a few days, they’d both be headed home for the holidays and you’d be left on your own for a few weeks. You didn’t mind all that much. You did well on your own, in the quiet. You were kind of sad about spending the holidays alone, though.

Maybe you could find a community event to attend. A holiday party or something. Maybe your college would be doing something for the students who were staying. You hoped they’d let you attend even though you were a grad student.

On the TV, a cheesy Hallmark movie played out, the city girl deciding the small town she’d stumbled into was actually the perfect place for her and the handsome lumberjack that worked at the Christmas Tree Farm at the edge of town was actually her soulmate. You chuckled. You didn’t believe in soulmates. Not like that, at least.

“Hey, we’re going to a party tonight. Down at the Kappa House. You want to come?” Your roommate, Cindy, asked.

“Oh! Thank you. I’m alright, though. I’ll order some takeout or something.”

“Alright.” Megan, your other roommate, nodded. “How was your class?”

“Good! Yeah, I’ve just gotta finish this essay and then I’ll be good for the semester.”

“That’s good.” She grinned, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

You sat with the two of them until they got ready to leave, dressed in short red dresses, fishnets, and Santa hats. “Call me if you need a DD.”

“Oh we will.” They giggled, stumbling out the door, each armed with a bottle of cheap wine, leaving you on your own in the apartment. You did as you’d said and ordered some takeout, cranking out the rest of your paper and turning on some Christmas movies. Elf, Home Alone, all of the classics were on.

You felt something in the back of your mind, a little tingle. You froze, staring at the screen. You expected another little piece, a sliver, anything, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came. You sighed, setting your container of Lo Mein on the coffee table. Suddenly, you were tired. Maybe some sleep would help. So, after putting your things away and cleaning up after yourself, you changed into your pajamas and headed to bed.

You stared at the ceiling for a while, trying desperately to jog your memory for the little inkling that was about to emerge earlier, but to no avail. You shook your head and turned onto your side.

Believing is Seeing…

***

The next morning, you felt groggy and decidedly weird. You jotted down the dreams you remembered in your journal and went downstairs to get some breakfast to appease your growling stomach. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal with milk and plopped down in front of the TV, all but dropping it in your lap when you saw what was on the screen.

“Come on up to the North Pole, folks! Christmas Wonderland right at your fingertips! This year, we’re opening our Winter Wonderland Water Park, Hotel, and Resort! Pet the reindeer! Take a photo with an elf! And don’t forget to meet Santa!”

“What the Fuck.”

“Oh! See! I told you! We should go! They have a two for one on the Mistletoe Cruise!” Cindy grinned, hopping over the back of the couch. “Rewind it!”

You did as she said, pausing when the prices were on the screen. It just so happened to be when this so-called Santa was also on screen. Taking one look at him, you could tell something was wrong. His height, his voice, but most of all, his hair, which was frosted and spiked up. He may have been wearing the suit, but that was no Santa.

Chills ran up your arm at the sight of him. No, that was no Santa. That was Jack Frost.

It was coming back to you a little now.

“What…the North Pole…?” You murmured, confused.

“Obviously. What, did your parents never take you as a kid?” Megan asked. “We went all the time when I was growing up.”

“I can’t say they did, no…” You shook your head. No, this was bad. Something was very wrong here. Your stomach sank, veins on fire and chills unending.

You got changed at the speed of light and headed out to town, stopping in the book store next to your favorite coffee shop, where on the front rack was this new Santa’s memoir. It was titled, “Becoming Santa” and you doubted anything in it was anywhere near the truth.

You scooped up a copy of it as well as a book on the history of the Pole. There had to be something in there, some hint, some…someone you could contact. You checked out at the counter and headed next door to the coffee shop, spreading out your books and notes. You grabbed a cocoa with extra whipped cream and a shot of espresso. You knew you’d need the caffeine for whatever lied ahead.

You combed the books extensively, rolling your eyes every paragraph as you waded through Jack’s stuffy memoir. It was…impossible. You couldn’t believe this had all happened overnight. Unless there was magic involved. You cracked open the history of the Pole book, which had pictures, thankfully. You were able to look through and see if there was anyone you recognized. The longer you stared at the pictures, the more it confirmed your suspicions. You had been to the Pole before, but not in the capacity your roommates were discussing. It hadn’t been a theme park, a tacky tourist destination loaded to the brim with money-grabs. No, you had been there when it was a gorgeous, beautiful workshop, full of joy and love and…for lack of better word, Christmas cheer.

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sat back in your chair, taking it all in. You remembered. Most of it, anyway. There were still bits and pieces that wouldn’t click into place just yet.

“This seat taken?” Someone asked.

You looked up, staring for a long moment as his features came into focus, his kind brown eyes, dark curls, a pointed ear sticking out from under his hat. He was the exact same as the last day you’d seen him, right down to the red tunic embroidered in golden symbols, the tassel necklace around his neck.

You gasped softly. “Bernard?”

Click.

His face split into a grin and a wave of relief swept over him as he all but collapsed into the seat across from you. “Thank the stars. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” You asked, mostly to yourself. You had forgotten him. Well, until now. But it was all coming together. Something about seeing him made everything else, all those loose, scattered pieces, finally come together.

“So far, you’re the only one who remembers.”

“Remembers you?”

“No, remembers…the way things were yesterday.” He lowered his voice and you nodded, eyes wide.

“Okay cool, I’m not crazy. Always nice to know.” You sighed, closing the book and sliding it over to him. “I’ve been looking for…I don’t even know what, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t right.”

“That’s…yeah.” He nodded, flipping through the book before closing it again.

“So what’s going on?”

“No idea. I was on my way out of the Pole when it hit, which is probably why I was spared. All of the elves…” He shook his head, arms crossed. “I don’t have any magic. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why me?” You asked softly, voice breaking at the edges. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since everything happened. I’m really sorry. What happened to you isn’t fair and I understand if you want to stay out of it, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left.”

“I was on your team the second you sat down.” You told him, earning a tired smile. “So I did find…something. Um…Santa. Our Santa, I mean. When did he…?”

“He put on the coat in 1994.” Bernard replied with certainty.

“Okay that’s not good.” You opened Jack’s memoir to his origin story, in which he claimed to have become aware of his Santa Powers in the same year on the same night. “That never happened. Jack…he must have gone back in time and overwritten things.”

“How would he even have done something like that?” Bernard asked, taking the book from you and reading through the section you’d underlined.

“Father Time,” you mumbled. “Maybe he did something to Father Time.”

“Maybe.” Bernard nodded. “He’s in London. Big Ben. We can head there. But first, we need to find our Santa and pray that he remembers too. If not, our goose may already be cooked.”

***

Bernard ordered a drink for himself and the two of you left the shop, sticking a nice tip in the jar on the way out. You led Bernard to your apartment. Your roommates were still there, buzzing about their impending trip to the North Pole.

“I thought you guys were going home to see your families for the holidays.” You said, prying to see just how much they had changed in this new reality.

“Oh right, right, we were, but this deal is just too good to pass up, you know? My parents will understand. We’ll just celebrate…over spring break or something.”

“Yeah, yeah same. It’ll be fine, I’ll just mail them their presents.” Megan agreed, going right back to vacation planning with Cindy.

You gave Bernard a look that he returned before the two of you went up to your room. You pulled open your laptop and sat on the floor, Bernard looking around your room, eyes careful, admiring every detail until he found it, the snow globe he’d given you still sitting on the shelf.

He smiled softly, picking it up and giving it a shake before setting it back. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do. I’ve had it in all of my apartments. I don’t move anywhere without it.” You smiled and paused, thinking. “Did you…use your magic on it when you gave it to me? Maybe that’s what’s bringing my memory back.”

“No, I only used my magic to inscribe the plaque.” He explained, pointing to where the words were inscribed in curling cursive words, Believing is Seeing. “Something else is protecting your memory, even now.”

“Mother Nature?” You wondered quietly. Then again, if she wanted to protect your memories, why would she have wiped them in the first place? It didn’t make sense, so instead, you turned your attention to Google. “Alright, what’s Santa’s government name? As long as Jack didn’t kill him, we should be able to find him.”

“Scott. Scott Calvin.” Bernard replied, sitting on the carpet beside you, leg brushing against yours. “When we found him, he was living in Illinois. He might still be close to there now.”

“Scott Calvin…” You said quietly, typing his name in the search bar along with Illinois to attempt to narrow down the search results. It was common name, but hopefully not too common. You scrolled through hits from Facebook, showing Bernard the profile pictures to see if there was one he recognized. After all, you never saw Santa when he was still human, only as the Big Man himself.

“There! There, that’s him!” Bernard pointed to one of the Scotts. You clicked on his profile and started scrolling.

Marriage Status: Divorced

Employment: Frost Toys, Illinois

“Frost Toys.” You read, sounding deflated. “Even he’s working for Frost.”

“Can you get a phone number? His business phone maybe?”

“Can do.” You hopped onto his LinkedIn and found his contact, punching in the number and handing your phone to Bernard.

He waited while it rang, shaking his head when it booted him to voicemail. There was a long beep and Bernard said, exasperated, “Hey Scott, this is Bernard. If you remember me, remember anything, please call back. We’re going to fix all of this.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to you, looking disappointed.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Having trouble believing that at the moment.” He exhaled, frustrated. “This is bad.”

“On a scale of zero to plastic Santa…?”

He chuckled, mood lightening the tiniest bit. “You heard about that?”

“It was the talk of the meeting that month.” You laughed, remembering. Your smile faded when you remembered who else had been at that meeting. Maybe that was where Jack had gotten his messed up little idea of world domination.

“I’d take three of that guy before this.” Bernard shook his head. “What now?”

You thought before shrugging. “I guess we’re going to Illinois.”

“You’re serious? You’re coming with me to get Scott?”

“Or what, let you do this on your own? No way. Help me get some stuff together. I just put gas in my car so we should be good for a while.”

He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him. “Alright, what do you need?”

As quickly as you could, you gathered up the absolute basics: a pair of pajamas, an extra set of clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, your hairbrush, extra fuzzy socks, and a phone charger. Once the two of you were done, you stopped in the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks for the long car ride, garnering looks from your roommates.

“Hey, who’s the guy?” Cindy asked, having missed him on his way in, apparently.

“I’m Bernard, a friend of (Y/N)’s. We have, uh, History together. History class, that is.” He offered his hand, but neither of them shook it, still too wrapped up in their phones and the cruise tickets they were busy booking.

“Ohhhh, right, I think I remember her mentioning you.” Megan nodded, agreeing. “You two going somewhere?”

“Illinois.”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “What’s in Illinois?”

“We’re going to see The Bean. I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” You shrugged. “Probably cheaper than a North Pole trip, too.”

“The Bean…” Bernard chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved a box of Rice Krispy Treats in the snack bag along with some Hershey Kisses and a bag of Twizzlers.

“Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, pack some salty stuff for me,” you muttered, elbowing him.

“Heh, right. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, packing a few saltier options that would appeal to your human taste buds.

“We probably won’t be back by the time you two leave, so…lock up good, alright?” You asked, meeting each of their eyes.

You loved your roommates. You knew they weren’t usually like this, dropping literally everything for a vacation. It was something about this timeline. Christmas wasn’t…happy like it was supposed to be. It was a bitter, greedy thing that was pushing these girls, who loved their families very much, away from their loved ones during the holidays. It made you sick.

“You alright?” Bernard asked, noticing the moment you began to space out. The last thing he needed was to lose you, too.

“I’m good, yeah. Let’s go.”

***

Hauling your little suitcase and your bag full of snacks, the two of you walked out of the apartment to where you’d parked your car. Thankfully, it was still there, one of the things the new timeline seemed to have no effect on. You slid your suitcase onto the back seat and Bernard set the bag of snacks on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

You settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and adjusting the temperature and the mirrors. Bernard fiddled with the radio, looking for Christmas tunes and finding them, catching the end of White Christmas just in time for an announcement from the radio host.

“We’re playing your favorite Christmas Hits all day, 24/7. That was White Christmas by Michael Bublé, up next, Santa’s new hit single, Come Meet Santa.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groaned as an insufferable song started blaring from the speakers, Jack singing about his fancy new resort at the Pole.

“He’s got the reindeer in a petting zoo?” Bernard asked, disheartened as he listened to the lyrics.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. “We’ve gotta find Scott.”

You connected your own Christmas playlist to the aux cord, doing away with Jack’s twisted idea of Christmas and set up navigation to the Frost Toys office building in Chicago. You figured even if it wasn’t exact, it would get you close enough to Scott by the time he called you back. Well, you hoped he would. Hope was kind of all the two of you had.

You drove out the front gates of your college campus and started heading towards the highway. “Let me know if you need a bathroom break or anything.”

“Alright.” Bernard nodded, still looking tense.

“Did you…try to call the Pole? I don’t know if there’s a special number for that or…?”

“I did. Customer Service put me on hold.”

You blinked. “Customer Service?”

“Yeah we didn’t have that department yesterday.” Bernard crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut in what you were sure was the immense stress of the situation. “Sounds like Curtis is in charge up there now, though. It’s like I never existed.”

“Oh.” You said, turning on your blinker to get in the faster lane. “I’m really sorry, Bernard.”

“Yeah, it’s…we’re gonna fix it.” He insisted, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “We have to.”

“We will.” You assured him.

He chuckled darkly. “This whole time, all I’ve been able to think about is how…this…what I’m going through now is what you’ve been going through for the past three years.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know what I was missing out on until today.”

“How do you mean?”

“Something about you showing up jogged my memory. Before that, it was just little tiny bits and pieces. If it weren’t for your snow globe, I definitely would have thought I was losing my mind. I remembered Mother Nature and the…role she played in this, I guess, but I could not have told you what she looks like. All I’ve had is the idea of her.”

“And now?”

“Now I remember. Pretty much everything, I think. Santa, the Pole, you, all of it.”

“Well that’s good for us.” Bernard chuckled.

“And when it’s over, I’m sure she’ll just…wipe me all over again.”

“I will see to it myself that that does not happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she ever did that to you to begin with. Lead you on like that just to drop you like nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…like I said to you that day in your office—I think, it’s still a little fuzzy—I always knew it was a little too good to be true. I always felt like I just…I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit. That there was this big, beautiful, magical world out there, but I wasn’t meant to…be part of it, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m 1600 years old and I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a place. And having met you, I can guarantee you do belong. If Mother Nature can’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You know, we can always use a hand in the ornament department.”

“I’d work anywhere you stuck me just to be able to hang out at the Pole again.”

“See, that’s the spirit.” He laughed.

The two of you drove for a handful of hours and you did decide to stop for gas, just to be safe. That, and you were really craving a gas station slushee. So, you filled the tank while Bernard grabbed the two of you some slushees for the rest of the drive down.

While he was standing there, there was a weird, floaty feeling about him. For a moment, his hands began to fade, sparkles taking their place, but as soon as you walked through the doors, the bell jingling above your head, the feeling went away and he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling solid again.

“You alright?” You asked, voice hushed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding before daring to meet your gaze. Never in his millennia and a half had he ever felt so weak.

“Bernard?”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, raising his voice slightly, but softening when he met your eyes again. “Sorry, I’m…fine.”

“Hang in there.” You whispered, standing closer to him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of you went back out to the car, sipping your slushees and turning the Christmas music back on when it was interrupted suddenly by an incoming call.

You looked at Bernard and he reached over, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Bernard? Is that you?” Santa’s voice came out of the speakers and you sighed in relief.

“Santa? Oh thank the stars.” Bernard closed his eyes, a long breath working out of his lungs.

“What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“We’re about an hour from Frost Toys. We did some research and found this, uh, new job of yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” He chuckled. “I’ll send my apartment address. Does this number work? Whose phone is this, I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I don’t. It’s a long story, but I’m with a friend and we’re on the way.”

“Good. Well then, I’ll see you two soon. The sooner the better.” Scott sounded very relieved. He hung up and texted over your new destination, which was just a little ways further than the building you were already heading towards.

With new fervor, you pulled out of the gas station and got back on the highway, reaching Scott’s apartment with speeds even Bernard was impressed by. You pulled into the parking garage, got your little orange slip to put on the dash, and took the elevator into the building. Scott buzzed you upstairs and you met him outside the door of the snazzy, modern downtown apartment. At the very least, this timeline had given him a cushy job. He ushered the two of you inside.

“Bernard.” Scott greeted, hugging his Head Elf briefly before the two turned back to you. “I’ve never been so relieved to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bernard sighed.

“And you are…?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced, offering your hand. “I don’t expect you to—”

“Oh! You were Mother Nature’s apprentice for a bit, weren’t you?” He asked, remembering.

“Yeah. That was me.” You nodded, deciding to spare him the gritty details. “I’m here to help save Christmas.”

“That might be easier said than done…”

“(Y/N) thinks Jack might have used time travel to do this. We were planning on going to see Father Time to see if any of this is something he can fix, or…or if Jack did something to him and that’s how he accomplished all of this.”

“It wasn’t Father Time.” Scott shook his head. “Jack tricked me with a wishing snow globe. Made me wish I had never been Santa and…took the coat for himself.”

“Oh.” Bernard murmured, nodding. “The Escape Clause. Well that would do it, then.”

“There’s gotta be some way to undo this.” Scott said. “It can’t just be over. This can’t be it. Carol…she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Mrs. Claus?” You asked softly and he nodded solemnly.

You’d met her on a few occasions and she had always been so nice to you, relieved to have another human-ish woman at the Pole, as she said, which always earned a laugh from you. And now, she was a school principal again at a public school who didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Even Mrs. Claus wasn’t safe from Jack’s trickery.

“Okay, so…we go to the Pole, then. Get…plane tickets, I guess. My roommates were planning their vacation there when we left, so if they can do it, I’m sure we can.”

“Definitely.” Scott nodded, searching for tickets on his phone.

“We go there, find that snow globe, and undo all of this, set it right, the way it’s supposed to be.” You said, determined.

“You think it’ll work?” Scott asked Bernard and he thought over it for a long time before nodding.

“It has to.”

***

Scott booked three tickets for the earliest flight in the morning, at five. You changed into pajamas so you could attempt to get some sleep, and Bernard put something on the TV. You emerged from Scott’s guest bedroom, face wiped clean of makeup, hair freshly brushed, and cute little penguins on your pajama pants. Bernard grinned.

“What?”

“Penguins?”

“I thought they were cute.” You defended, shrugging as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“I never said they weren’t.” He shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hey, pizza sound good, you two?” Scott called from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bernard agreed, flipping channels until he found what he was looking for. Ah yes, the Christmas movies. Specifically, the stop-motion Rankin/Bass movies you’d watched during your childhood. Absolute classics.

You gasped, childlike wonder filling your features. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You like these movies?”

“I’ve seen just about all of them, I think. We always used to watch them when I was a kid. These were my childhood. I like them a lot more than the Hallmark movies my roommates are always watching.”

“Rightfully so.” Bernard agreed. “These guys just…got it.”

“Better than anyone else.” You sat criss-cross on the couch. “Riddle me this, Mr. Head Elf, is Rudolph real?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N), but no, he is not.”

“No! What? You’re lying!” You covered your face with your hands. “My life is a lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He laughed. “Rudolph is not one of our reindeer. The rest all are, though. Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen.”

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen?” You asked.

Bernard smiled, proud. “Precisely.”

“Hey,” Scott held the phone away from his face for a second, covering the microphone with his hand, “pepperoni good? Thin crust?”

“Sounds good to me, Santa.” Bernard gave a thumbs-up. He could not, for the life of him, remember the last time he’d even had pizza.

“Yeah, I love thin crust.” You agreed.

“Great.” He nodded and walked back towards the kitchen again, finalizing the pizza order.

The commercial break hit with, of course, an ad for the North Pole Waterpark and Resort. There were clips of miserable elves playing games in the arcade, forced to work as lifeguards in the waterpark, facilitating the reindeer petting zoo.

You frowned, that familiar feeling of dread settling into your stomach again. This was awful.

“That’s Betty, there, in the green. Third in command. Second, now, I guess. She looks…”

“Miserable.” You finished.

“Yeah.” Bernard nodded. He let out a frustrated shout. “I can’t believe this is happening! Look at them! Look at what he’s done to the Pole!”

Bernard took a shaking breath and slumped back against the couch, his lack of magic hitting him once again and that floaty, sparkly feeling returning.

“Bernard?” You asked, voice rising in concern.

“It’s my magic. The magic of the Pole, of Christmas, everything. Elves are…well, we’re basically made of magic, so if we don’t fix this, and soon…” He shook his head, words trailing off into hopelessness.

“Take some of mine.” You said, quiet, but certain.

He stared at you for a long moment. “What?”

“Take some of my magic.” You told him, more confident this time.

“You still have magic?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“And no idea how to use it, but you do. You need it more than I do right now.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

You unfurled your legs, turning to face him. You turned his hands so they were in a receiving position and placed your palms on his, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to focus yourself, tuning into the fragments of magic still inside of you and then pushing them towards him, through his hands, up his arms, into his chest.

He flinched a little at the feeling, the sharp, cold tingle, but his eyes widened when he saw it, your magic, flowing into him. It was iridescent, teal and purple and pink and blue, waves ebbing and flowing, its gentle glow lighting up your features in the dim room, your hair blowing around softly in the gentle breeze it created.

It looked like the Northern Lights.

He pulled away after a few long moments, stopping the flow. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, concern etched deep in your gaze, pulling at his heart strings in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“A lot better. Thank you,” he said. “But save some for yourself. That might be what’s protecting your memories.”

“Right.” You nodded, thinking. “That makes sense.”

It was quiet, the murmur of the TV the only sound other than Scott in the kitchen, getting dishes out in anticipation of the pizzas arriving, their ceramic clattering against the fancy marble counters you’d spotted on your way in.

You looked at Bernard, really looked at him for the first time. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit, back when you were acquaintances, when he was the knowledgeable, responsible, somewhat stern Head Elf with a heart of gold and you were Mother Nature’s apprentice, vying for a destiny you would not receive.

You remembered the way your heart would lurch when he peeked into the meetings you sat in on, with the rest of the Legendary Figures, and occasionally, the Guardians of the Seasons, if their presence was necessary.

One of the other elves, you were pretty sure her name was Abby, had given you a tour the first time you were there, she’d introduced you to him, and she’d also called to attention the way your cheeks went rosy the moment you walked away from him.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he had those memories too, tucked away someplace special, or if you were just another passerby in his long, long life. Sometimes you almost forgot he was hiding a thousand years behind that youthful face.

Sitting there, you weren’t sure if it was him who started leaning in or you, but it stopped as soon as Scott called for you from the other room, like a scratched record in the middle of a sweet, slow Christmas ballad, pulling you both back down to reality.

“Pizza.” You chuckled, standing up from the couch. Maybe it was the lighting, but you swore Bernard’s cheeks were rosier than they had been before.

“Right. Pizza.”

The two of you walked out to the kitchen together and sat on the barstools pulled up to the counter, grabbing slices of the thin-crust pepperoni.

“So, I booked the North Pole tickets. I also booked us tickets from there to London…Just in case.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bernard chuckled.

“Hey, you look better.” Scott noted.

“I’m feeling a lot better, too.” Bernard motioned to you. “(Y/N) here still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

“Good. We’re gonna need all the magic we can get.”

***

You didn’t get very much sleep before your alarm went off. It had been about what you were expecting. You never slept well when you were stressed.

You did, however, have a dream.

You were sitting in a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians, the two of them that were left after the Spring Enchantress’ retirement. Of course, you were training up to fill the position, so it wouldn’t remain empty for long.

Mother Nature led the meeting, held in the giant tree at the center of her Grotto, glancing at her watch every few minutes until finally, he showed up. Jack Frost. Even then, chills ran up your spine, though, at the time, you were convinced it was a side effect of his existence in general.

“Sorry I’m late, ladies. Had quite the hold up in Toronto.” He shrugged, sliding into the fifth seat at the round table, a snowflake embedded in the crystalline mosaic on the table’s surface. “What are we talking about?”

“You, actually.” Mother Nature stated, sitting up straighter. “We were wondering how the search for the Aurora was going, since you’ve elected to take on the task yourself.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s certainly not easy. Winter Guardians don’t just fall from the sky, you know. But I’ve searched all of the places she used to pop up. Hence my overlay in Canada.” Jack shrugged. “And besides, it’s been five centuries since we’ve had one, I think we’re doing just fine without her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Autumn Witch, a gorgeous young woman named Amber Sanderson, interjected, meeting him with her sharp gaze. Her long, curly orange hair was as beautiful as the autumn leaves, brown skin smooth and ageless, even after her thirty or so years on the council. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Then what would you say, Ms. Sanderson?” Jack countered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “If you have a problem with the way I’m running things, I’d prefer if you were forward about it.”

“We have been.” Evangeline Cho agreed, the Summer Sorceress. As her season had just started, she was glowing even more brilliantly than she usually did. “Every year, winter creeps further and further into autumn and spring. And it seems you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

“What, I can’t control that! I’m getting more powerful! It’s merely a side effect.”

“Which is precisely why we need someone on this council who can control their abilities. Such as an Aurora, which you were tasked with finding nearly a century ago, Frost.” Mother Nature stated, her voice cool and even. “If you’d like one of us to find her instead—”

“Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary. I promise you, by next winter, we will have an Aurora again and I’ll go back to managing snow days and frosting window panes.” He drew an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Excellent.” Mother Nature nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

You blinked awake in time with Mother Nature’s gavel, staring at the ceiling of Scott’s guest room. That wasn’t a dream. You were certain. It was a memory. You’d have to tell the others.

***

Once your alarm went off, you got dressed and met Scott and Bernard in the entryway of the apartment. Bernard, who hadn’t changed his clothes, had one pointed ear sticking out the brim of his hat, a dead giveaway if there ever was one. You rummaged through your carry on and produced a knitted hat you’d made a few years back, motioning to his ear.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” He nodded, swapping his usual headwear for the hat you gave him, slipping it on with ease. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I knit.”

He chuckled, checking his reflection to make sure he was covered well. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“As we’re both learning.”

Scott drove the three of you to the airport and you arrived early, hoping your plane would be a little ahead of schedule, but when you found it was actually delayed an hour, it gave you time to grab drinks at the coffee shop.

“Hot cocoa, shot of espresso, extra whipped cream, please.” You ordered, Bernard just behind you.

“I’ll have the same, but make it a double shot.”

“Coming right up,” the barista nodded, setting to work.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, filling the sky with orange and pink, sunlight glistening on the icicles hanging from the windows. You smiled, appreciating the quiet moment despite the dread looming overhead.

Once your drinks were ready, you joined Scott on a chair near the windows.

“So um, I had a dream last night. I think it was a memory from before.” You said, not sure how else to bring it up.

“What was it about?” Scott asked, curious.

“I was at a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians. Jack was there, sitting in for…the Aurora, I guess.”

“The Winter Aurora.” Bernard replied, nodding.

“What is that?” Scott asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Well, there’s a Guardian for each season, often a woman, gifted with the powers of that specific time of year. They work with their Legendary Figures to oversee the flow of time and ensure everything is on schedule. The Spring Enchantress, the Summer Sorceress, the Autumn Witch, and the Winter Aurora.” Bernard explained. “We haven’t had an Aurora at the Pole in 500 years…”

“Well that would explain why I’ve never heard of her.” Scott nodded, thinking. “So Jack took her job?”

“Yeah, they were talking about his…powers increasing, I’m assuming because he was getting buffed by her powers in addition to his. And how winter is creeping into autumn and spring because of it.”

“That’s not good.” Bernard shook his head. “The seasons have to be balanced. Jack’s hunger for power is messing up the eco system.”

“Mother Nature said he was supposed to be looking for her, and I don’t know…maybe he just…wasn’t looking.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Bernard took a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ll add that to the top of my list as soon as we get everything else back to normal.”

As soon as you finished your drinks, the plane started boarding, so you followed after Scott and onto the plane. Through the windows in the walkway, you could see the plane, giant, winter blue, and emblazoned with a giant picture of Jack Frost’s Santa impression, giving a thumbs-up.

“I’m gonna puke.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ditto.”

The three of you boarded and settled into your seats, all in a row. Scott had brought his laptop along to do some research on the flight. He figured it was better to go in with something of a plan than be blindsided by whatever you found on the other side. You had a feeling the Pole would look a lot different than last you’d seen it.

You settled into the window seat and got as comfortable as you could. For a supposedly luxury flight, the seats were surprisingly stiff. Knowing Jack, you should have expected him to cut corners, even in his power fantasy brought to life.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bernard asked, voice soft.

“As well as I can, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.”

He nodded, eyes meeting yours, soft and serious. “I am, too.”

A lady in a flowery dress walked past, her perfume so strong, you caught a whiff of it from the window seat, its floral scent immediately tickling your nose. You tried your best to suppress the sneeze, but to no avail. You sneezed two times, waiting for a third, but it never came.

“Jeez.” You shook your head, reaching for the Benedryl in your bag.

“What’s that for?”

“My allergies. That lady’s perfume was pretty strong.” You chuckled.

“You have allergies?” Bernard asked, eyes narrowing. “Spring allergies.”

“…Yeah?”

“You have spring allergies and Mother Nature thought you were the new Spring Enchantress?” Bernard asked, looking skeptical. He knew Mother Nature. She was an intelligent, almost all-knowing being. He knew she wouldn’t make a mistake that obvious.

“That part never made sense to me either.” You shrugged.

“She thought you were a Spring, but…you’re obviously more of a Winter. I might be a bit biased, though.” He smirked.

Your heart raced when he said it, the realization hitting you that he was flirting. You were getting hit on by Santa’s Head Elf. That was something not everyone could say.

“I mean, I was born in December. The 21st.”

Suddenly, his flirting demeanor was gone, replaced instead by a look of realization, like you had just given him the last piece of the puzzle he’d been trying to solve since the day you left the Pole. “The Winter Solstice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let me see that, Santa.” Bernard took the laptop from Scott’s lap desk, clumsily navigating with the mousepad and punching something into the search bar. “Where was it your parents are from, (Y/N)?”

“I grew up in South Carolina. We were supposed to live in Michigan, but Dad got a job opportunity at the last minute, so we moved right after I was born.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Traverse City.”

“Hmm…” Bernard clicked through articles a bit before finding a story that made your heart race. “Is…Is this the house?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, reading through the article. Three months after your family had moved out, there had been a freak snow storm that took out half the houses in the neighborhood. And your house had been hit the worst, the roof over what would have been your nursery was caved in completely.

“Jack hasn’t been not looking for the Aurora. He’s been killing her every time she’s popped up.” Bernard concluded, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait. So you’re saying…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m…”

“Mother Nature appointed you Spring Enchantress to throw him off of your scent.” He said. “That has to be it. It’s the only explanation.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, fingers shaking as you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I…I mean, wouldn’t I know? I’m not…special. Not like that…”

“Are you kidding me?” Bernard asked, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Y/N), I’ve seen your magic. It’s the only think keeping me alive right now. It…” He reached for your hand, positioning your palm so it was facing upwards and as soon as he did, a wave of stunning Northern Lights glowed between your fingers. “Do you see that? I’ve seen Aurora magic. This is that. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner…”

“Woah.” Scott muttered, eyes falling on the scene unfolding between the two of you.

You curled your fingers, pulling the magic back into yourself and extinguishing the light. You sat with it for a moment and met Bernard’s gaze. “He tried to kill me.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “He tried to kill me for…for power? For a title?”

“We’re not going to let him get away with it.” Scott stated, fire in his gaze. “We’re not going to let him get away with any of it.”

You felt a tingling on your head and watched as white trickled from your scalp down to the ends of the piece of hair at the front of your face. Your heart raced and you touched the hair with shaking fingers.

It was real now. You were the Winter Aurora. And you had a feeling the closer you got to the Pole, the more evident that would become…

***

By the time the plane landed, the three of you were settled on a plan. Scott, Jack’s biggest priority, would cause a distraction, buying time for you two. Bernard would find the elves and try to snap them out of it. You, as the only one Jack wouldn’t fully recognize, would go find the snow globe and get it to Scott so he could undo his wish and fix everything.

Was it a perfect plan? No. But it was all you had, so it would have to be enough.

You walked off of the plane together, hoping the streak of white in your hair wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once you were inside the gates, the three of you huddled, finalizing your plan.

“You’re going to be fine on your own? Do you know how to get to the snow globe room?” Scott checked.

“I’m…being here…yeah, I’m definitely gonna be able to find it.” You nodded, still completely blown away by the powerful waves of magic, hitting you all at once for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Bernard grinned, hopeful. “Good. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe. I…I really don’t trust him. What he’s capable of…” You said warily.

The Head Elf shook his head, confident. “Is nothing compared to what you are.”

“Let’s save Christmas.” Scott announced.

The three of you split off. You watched as Bernard and Scott walked away together, Scott playfully nudging Bernard. About what, you couldn’t be certain, but you had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with you.

Cheeks flushed for more reason than one, you took off, following the swirling feeling around your heart, dodging past security elves with a stealth and speed you didn’t know you possessed. It was like muscle memory, suppressed very deep in the core of your being. A power you had never tapped into, but one that was quick to embrace you. You felt it in your soul, the Pole wanted you there, and it was very glad you’d returned.

Following the instructions Scott and Bernard had given you, you walked briskly down the corridors, slinking past bakery elves on their way to one of the many tourist eating spots. The workshop itself sat big and empty, barely an elf in sight. The few that were there looked tired, sad, working on tacky Santa Claus bobble heads and cheap gift shop pens. It broke your heart.

Distant voices echoed against the cavernous halls. In your mind, you heard echoes, too. Laughter and love and light, elves building toys, creating things together, working to make the kids of the world happy, no matter what it took. The workshop had been wrapped in pine trim and string lights, warm and bright.

Now, it sat dark and empty.

You wiped a tear from your cheek and continued down the hall, to where the entrance to the Hall of Snowglobes was. And at its entrance, was Betty, who stared at you for a long moment as though trying to place where she recognized you from, but quickly shook it off.

“You can’t be back here. No visitors allowed. I can escort you back to the main area, though.” She offered, smiling.

“Your name is Betty, right?”

She hesitated. “How did you…? Nevermind that, you’re still not allowed back here.”

“I have to be back here.” You told her. “It’s important. The fate of Christmas depends on it.”

“Well, the fate of Christmas depends on me doing my job, so if you’ll follow me this way.”

“I can’t do that, Betty.” You shook your head. “And I know you don’t want to either. Don’t you see that all of this is wrong? That what Jack’s done to the Pole, the capitalism, the resort, the gift shops, the reindeer in the petting zoo, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. You know that. I know you know that.”

Betty’s features saddened and for a moment, you thought you’d won her over until she reached for a walkie talkie. “Security, we’ve got a tourist that needs to be removed from the Workshop.”

“Great.” You huffed, summoning your power to your hand, just as Bernard had shown you. But instead of sending a blast of energy at her, you let it slowly waft over, rainbow colors and dancing lights slowly enveloping her. As the magic hit her face, she blinked through it, eyes awash in the pinks and teals and purples. Yet another streak of white flowed through your hair.

She dropped to her knees and stared up at you, tears in her eyes as it all came flooding back. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’re our Aurora.”

“I am.” You nodded, feeling confident in your title for the first time. “And I need your help. We don’t have much time.”

“Bernard, he’s gone! He—”

“He came here with me. We have to hurry. We need that snow globe.” You told her and she nodded.

You helped Betty to her feet and she ushered you into the Hall of Snowglobes, carefully plucking the little glass orb that had started all of this off of its pedestal and handing it to you. You held it with careful hands, admiring it. It was beautiful, if not absolutely dangerous.

“We’ve gotta get this to Santa.” You told her.

She nodded, following you out of the Workshop and into the bustling center of town, an absolute sensory overload if there ever was one. Tourists packed the streets, vendors were shouting over the noise, and above it all, speakers were blaring Jack’s Christmas Album, each new song worst than the one before it.

There was a massive stage, covered in fake ice and bright lights, and on said stage, was him, Jack Frost in all of his faux Santa glory, his red suit iced at the ends, hair spiked and ridiculous, like icicles. Behind him, was a row of toy soldiers and in their grasp was none other than Bernard, eyes wide in fear as Jack manifested a blast of snow in his hand.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted over the crowd, waving wildly to get your attention.

“Get this to Scott.” You handed the snow globe to Betty, urgency in your voice and your eyes. “I’ve gotta get Bernard.”

“On it.” She took the globe from you and weaved through the crowd expertly. You ran towards the stage as though everything was moving in slow motion.

“This guy isn’t Santa! He’s trying to ruin Christmas!” Bernard shouted, voice cracking as he did.

Jack laughed loudly, and the crowd assembled did the same. “Do you hear him? I am Santa! Without me, there would be no Christmas! What gives you the right to say any of this?”

“I’m the Head Elf!” Bernard insisted, struggling against the toy soldiers. “I’ve seen a thousand Christmases and dozens of Santas! You are nothing compared to any of them!”

“Alright, tough guy, you think I’m not Santa? How about I show you what a real Santa is capable of?” Jack threatened, ice in his voice. He raised his hand to freeze Bernard and you dove onto the stage, tackling Jack to the ground, earning a loud gasp and several concerned voices from the crowd.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking narcissistic popsicle!” You shouted, getting a good punch in before retreating to Bernard’s side, kicking the toy soldier behind him and pulling apart the large ribbon bow binding his wrists. Parents covered their children’s ears, shielding them from the harsh language. Some of the crowd cleared out, retreating to a safer distance, while others pulled out their phones, desperate to go viral on YouTube.

“Come on.” You grabbed Bernard’s hand and he squeezed yours, following you off of the stage and through the crowd to where Scott stood with the snow globe. He shook it and made a wish, but nothing happened.

“What?” Scott asked, trying again. “It won’t work.”

“It’s the Escape Clause.” Bernard closed his eyes, remembering the rules. “Jack made this wish. He’s…he’s Santa now; he’s the only one who can undo this.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread flowed over you.

“And those, my dears, are the words I will never utter.” Jack said, dusting himself off and sauntering over to the four of you, his security not far behind, ready to apprehend all of you. “It was a nice try, though. Really valiant effort, all four of you. Scott, Bernard, Betty…and you. I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Maybe if you had half a braincell, you would.”

He scoffed, offended. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure that much out when they get you to jail, I suppose.” He shrugged and the security officers seized the four of you, taking the snow globe and giving it back to Jack. He tossed it in the air cockily a few times before chuckling. “You know, I don’t need this thing. I’m never going to wish all of this away.”

Frost tendrils crept up the glass dome and in a great burst of light, it shattered. You gasped, feeling the magic settle. This was it. This was reality now. There was no way to undo it.

“O-oh.” Bernard took a stuttered breath, faltering. He collapsed to the ground and you pushed away from security, rushing to his side and collecting him in your arms.

“Bernard?”

He shook his head. You raised a hand to give him more of your magic, but he lowered it with his own. “You have to finish this, Aurora.” He said, eyes serious, glimmering despite the pain you could tell he was in. “You’re the only one who can.”

He leaned forward, a hand brushing the hair away from your face, capturing your lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, tasting faintly of peppermint, and then he disappeared in a burst of sparkles, his silver and gold magic drifting forward into your chest.

You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks, arms empty and heart emptier. “No! NO! What did you do to him?” You turned, facing Jack.

“The only thing I could. Protecting Christmas from the likes of you.” He shrugged. “What was it he called you? Autumn? Is that your name? Autumn?”

“No.” You told him, rising to your feet, pure magic lifting you from the ground and setting you on your feet.

His eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I’m the Aurora.” You rose into the air, teals and purples and pinks swirling around you in a rush of power. You raised your hand, manifesting the snow globe within it, its broken shards reforming in your grasp, effortless and precise. Once it was whole again, you shook it, magic swirling within its waters, overriding the rules of the Escape Clause with rules of your own.

A voice came out of you then that you weren’t sure was your own. It came deep from your chest, echoing across the pole, accompanied by a wave of power, the same magic you’d used on Betty, but tenfold, fierce and fiery, prickling like static all down your arms as it left you.

“May Everything Return to the Way it Was Before, to the Way it was Always Meant to Be.”

And with one final rush of magic, everything went white.

***

It took a while for the picture to form in front of you, your hearing distorted, the colors slowly coming back one by one.

You were kneeling there in the center of the Workshop, which was full of elves, their work paused as they watched the scene unfolding. Scott was Santa once more, wearing his red undershirt and suspenders, looking jollier than you’d ever seen him. Carol stood beside him, looking confused.

Mother Nature was there, as was Tooth, and, of course, Jack Frost, wearing his signature blue suit as opposed to the red one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

You got to your feet, looking for Bernard in the crowd, but not finding him. Your heart lurched, your search brought to a halt by Jack’s nasally voice.

“Aw, come on now, kid, no hard feelings, right?”

Rather than replying, you wound up and punched him square in the jaw with more force than you were used to possessing.

“OOOOOOOH…” The elves murmured, wincing as Jack fell to the ground, gripping his face.

“I’m going to ask you one last time and you are going to answer me. What. Did you do to him.” You demanded, a fierce power zinging through you.

“I didn’t do anything to him! This is all a big misunderstanding! Right, Santa? Tooth? Back me up on this!” Jack groveled, shielding his face with both hands, cowering in fear.

“Can’t do that, Jack.” Scott shook his head. “You have to answer to her.”

“Where is Bernard?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at hand—” Jack deflected, shrinking further away from you.

“What’s that?” One of the elves asked, pointing to a column of sparkles manifesting beside you.

You turned to look, staring at it until it clicked. Reaching into yourself, you let the last pieces of Bernard’s magic flow out of your chest, where it had retreated for safekeeping. Silver and gold glitter rushed out of you, swirling from the ground up until he was standing there again, solid and real.

He all but collapsed into your arms, holding onto you tightly while he found his balance again.

“Bernard,” you sobbed, holding him close, your arms desperate to prove he was real again, that he was solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, no need for tears, Aurora. I’m alright.” He grinned, meeting your gaze. His hand rose to your cheek and he wiped your tears away as he took you in for all that you were. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“(Y/N)?” Mother Nature asked, voice soft and warm.

“I…I can explain.” You insisted, turning to face her.

“No need, dear one. I know why you’re here. I’ve always known.” She smiled, bowing her head. “And now that you’re here, we can finish this.”

You looked to Bernard and he nodded, letting go of you to give you a gentle push forward, his eyes proud and supportive.

“Kneel.” She instructed, and you did, dropping to one knee in front of her.

The elves fell silent, desperate to witness what was unfolding for the first time in centuries.

“(Y/N) (L/N), through your bravery and selflessness, you have proven what I’ve known all along. You are the Aurora Borealis, the Winter Guardian, and Protector of the North Pole and all her Magic. For the first time in five centuries, the North Pole has an Aurora, which means…” She looked to Jack, who shook his head desperately.

“No. No way. I am not giving an ounce of my power to that…that…she punched me! Twice! Did none of you see that? She’s violent!”

“After everything you did to the Auroras before her, you’re lucky all she did was punch you!” Bernard snapped, arms crossed. “Not to mention the fact you destroyed her house in an attempt to kill her.”

Jack gasped in faux shock. “What, me? I…I would never—!”

“Jack.” Mother Nature reprimanded sharply. “You don’t have to give her the power. It was never yours to begin with.”

She outstretched a hand and, as easily as turning on a faucet, the power he’d been given, the magical, dancing light, was siphoned out of him and floated straight into you. Your feet lifted from the ground, head tilting back as your body slowly rose from the floor, power greater than you’d ever seen or felt ebbing and flowing around you, changing you into the thing you were always meant to become: the Aurora Borealis.

Your hair fully turned white, glimmering like fallen snow, a few stray streaks of pink and purple and teal scattered throughout. Your skin took on a subtle sparkle, every part of you becoming stronger, right down to your fingernails. Your clothes were replaced with a simple, glittering dress, the color of the night sky.

Gently, you touched down again, fully reborn.

The elves murmured and whispered in awe and you looked around to find a row of proud faces.

Mother Nature stepped forward and took both of your hands in hers, meeting you face to face for the first time in three years. “Dear one, I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I should have warned you, I should have done more to ready you, but I didn’t and…I let you feel alone.”

“I am alive because of you. Because you misled him. Everything you did was to protect me. I understand that now.” You told her, voice smooth and confident.

She touched her forehead to yours for a moment before pulling away to meet your gaze again. “Then, dear one, I have one last question for you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Hereby and Forevermore, your duty as the Winter Aurora is to the North Pole. You are tasked with its safety and secrets, to protect all of its residents and the magic they hold. Do you accept the Title of Winter Guardian and all of the responsibilities it holds?”

“I do.” You nodded, meeting Bernard’s eyes for a brief moment, only to find the warmest, proudest smile on his face.

“Then this belongs to you.” In her hand, Mother Nature manifested a small, elegant silver tiara, embellished with glittering snowflakes. She set it gently in your hair, completing your transformation once and for all.

Jack started sneaking towards the door, but you lifted your hand, a wave of power rushing around him, turning him back towards the rest of you and giving him a push back towards the rest of you. He stumbled forward, looking around the group nervously.

“You’re—you’re not gonna kill me, right?” He asked. “You still need me! I’m the one who oversees the snow days and-and the snowmen! Think of the snowmen!”

“We do need a Jack Frost.” Mother Nature said. “Which is why while you were here terrorizing Santa, I was locating your successor. Jack, come on in.”

The doors of the Workshop opened and in walked a much younger man with shaggy white hair. Your best guess put him in his early twenties, and his wardrobe was much more modern than the other Jack’s as well, a blue hoodie adorned with silver swirls. He carried a large stick with a curve at the end of it, somewhat resembling a scythe.

“Nice to meet you.” He waved casually, leaning against his stick.

“My successor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re firing me?!”

“Oh, we’re doing more than firing you.” Tooth chuckled. He looked to you. “Aurora, what do you think we should do with him?”

“He needs to be put…somewhere he can’t hurt anyone else.” You decided. You turned to the Head Elf and he perked up, interested to hear your suggestion. “Do you have a snow globe I could borrow?”

He grinned and reached into his satchel, pulling out a fresh one. “I like the way you think.”

“What? No! You can’t just—” Jack shook his head, looking to Santa, to Mother Nature, to even Mrs. Claus for some other solution.

“This is for all of the Auroras before me, for the elves you brainwashed and the reindeer you stuck in a petting zoo. You’ll have lots of time to think about what you’ve done. And maybe someday, in five hundred years or so, I’ll let you go live a boring human life.” You told him, taking the snow globe from Bernard and focusing.

There was a bright flash of sparkles and then it was done, Jack was trapped in the confines of the little snow globe in your hands and he looked very angry about it, but his complaints were too muffled to make them out clearly. Santa reached for the snow globe, so you handed it to him and he gave it an amused swirl.

“Well done, (Y/N).” He complimented, passing the snow globe to Curtis. “See to it that this gets locked away properly.”

“Will do, Santa.” Curtis nodded and headed off.

“Now, (Y/N), if you are going to be staying here, I suppose someone will have to show you around the place.” Santa smiled knowingly.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I believe that would be my responsibility as Head Elf, Santa.”

“Yes, I believe it would.”

The Head Elf offered you his arm and you gladly took it, letting him escort you up the stairs of the workshop and down the hall so the two of you could have a private moment. As soon as you were out of sight, he turned to face you, his hands cupping your cheeks, nose brushing against yours.

“See, I knew you were more of a Winter.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’ve never looked better.” He murmured, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours passionately. In your Mortal life, you’d had your fair share of kisses, but kissing Bernard was something else entirely. He was experienced, that was for sure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Now, where would you like to explore first?”

***

Bernard took you around the Workshop, showing you all of the departments, which were full of elves, all of them working hard to ensure Santa was on schedule to leave that night. Bernard checked in with each of them as he did, making sure everything was going according to plan. Tooth and Mother Nature had stuck around to help out, and some of the other Legendary Figures had arrived as well, introducing themselves to you when you came around.

Finally, as the end of your tour, Bernard led you to an ornate set of stained glass double doors. As if by magic, they swung open when you approached, giving way to a beautiful bedroom, tall, arched ceilings, dancing Northern Lights projected across them. Stained glass windows, a large, wooden desk, hardwood floors and shelves and shelves of books. There was a carved armoire in the corner of the room, and against the leftmost wall, on a platform, was a giant canopy bed.

“This is the Aurora’s suite. You can decorate however you’d like. I had some elves from the interior design department get it fixed up for you.” Bernard explained, your arm looped through his, hand resting on his bicep. “If you’ll turn your attention right over here…”

He led you to the desk, dropping your arm and plucking something off of the desk. Your snow globe! The one he had given you three years before, still inscribed with those famous words that had started your entire adventure to begin with, the last remnant you had from this life before it was ripped away from you.

“My snow globe! How did you get it here?”

He shrugged, handing it to you. “My magic came back. Which means I can give this back to you.”

Bernard lifted his hand and you pressed yours against it, palm to palm. Gently, your power flowed from him back into you, a light breeze blowing through the room. He brushed your hair away from your face and pressed a long kiss to your cheek.

“There’s still a lot to do, but…I think we’re going to be able to pull everything together by tonight.”

“Well then you better get out there, Mr. Head Elf.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes, “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be just fine.” You assured him, setting the snow globe back on the desk so you could rest your arms on his shoulders, his hands resting on your waist. “And after, you and I will have all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Curtis muttered, standing in the doorway.

“Curtis!” Bernard exclaimed, his voice cracking.

You giggled when he abruptly pulled away to face his number two.

“The tree topper department needs an extra set of hands.” Curtis said, motioning back towards the workshop.

“Can I help?” You asked.

“Oh, Aurora, you don’t have to—” Curtis shook his head.

“Yeah, but…can I?” You asked, eyes curious.

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He made eye contact with Bernard. “I like her already.”

Bernard gave you a nudge. “I do too.”

***

At Santa’s request, you met him and Bernard at the stable gates to see him off for your very first Christmas as the North Pole’s Guardian. Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what was expected of you or what you’d have to do, but Bernard was there, his smile ever so reassuring.

Some of the elves that worked with the reindeer helped get them all properly harnessed and ready for the flight, carefully attaching their reins to the sleigh. Bernard walked you through what you’d have to do. As one of the oldest elves in the Pole, he remembered the process well.

“It’s easy. All you’ll have to do is raise your hand.” He was standing right behind you and raised your hand with his own, positioning it just so. “And lower the barrier so Santa can leave. And if you can’t, we have controls for that now. It’s…mostly ceremonial at this point.”

“Well that does make me feel a little better.” You smiled, turning towards him.

“And, um, after, I think you should…check the armoire in your room. I left something for you.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“Something for the party. You don’t have to wear it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly, cheeks extra rosy.

“And the party starts…?”

“The minute Santa gets back.” Bernard explained. “And then we get three months off and pick back up in March.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling. “Plenty of time for you to show me the ropes.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled, looking both ways, but not risking a kiss, not with all of the elves assembled to send Santa off.

“Everything ready?” Scott checked, donning his famed coat and hat for the flight just as a few elves loaded the famous gift bag, filled to the brim and then some, onto the back of the sleigh.

“All set, Santa.” Bernard nodded.

Scott put a hand on your shoulder, the other on Bernard’s. “We owe this Christmas to you two. Wouldn’t be standing here without either of you.”

“All in a day’s work, Santa.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back. And then the real fun begins.”

“I’ll see to it that we have enough eggnog at the ready.” Bernard replied with a wink, which Santa laughed at.

“Excellent.” He climbed into the sleigh and gave you the signal.

Just as you’d practiced, you lifted a hand and focused on the barrier protecting the Pole, made of the same magic that flowed through your veins. Effortlessly, the veil parted, making way for Santa’s sleigh and the elves erupted into cheers as Scott flew off into the sky. Bernard cheered loudly, turning to you and scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around in his excitement. You squealed with laughter.

Once your feet were on the ground again, you met his eyes briefly before pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek and walking over to Carol, who was smiling a proud, maternal smile.

“Let’s get you ready for that party, huh?” She asked, looping her arm around yours. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything you’ve been up to! It’s nice to have a human-ish woman around here again.”

“I missed you, Carol.”

“I missed you too, hon.”

***

The deliveries went on without a hitch and Scott was back at the Pole faster than you could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carol, you, and Betty had gone into your room to prepare. Carol did your hair, perching your snowflake tiara perfectly atop your head. You felt like a princess.

Betty helped zip up the dress Bernard had left for you, an elegant silver gown with a layered skirt, a tasteful slit up the leg, and off the shoulder sleeves, a layer of tule on top that was embellished with silver stars.

“You look stunning.” Carol complimented, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired your reflection.

“Thanks to you.” You tilted your head. “I’m still getting used to the hair, but…I think it looks nice like this.”

“Makes you look like a superhero.”

“I kinda feel like one, too.”

“Well you should. Scott told me everything that happened. I’m glad you were there to help.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” You said, pausing before asking, “So…theoretically speaking of course, is there a rule prohibiting the Aurora from…dating?”

Betty gasped, smiling. “I knew it! You and Bernard—”

“You and Bernard?” Carol asked, interested. “I never would have guessed.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe a little.” She admitted, pinching her fingers together. “Saving the world together is a very romantic first date.”

“So…I am allowed to…date him?” You asked, earning a giggle from Betty.

“There is nothing, to my knowledge, prohibiting either the Aurora or the Head Elf from falling in love,” she reported. “But I can check the handbook if you want me too.”

“That is good to know.” You tapped your temple, laughing a bit.

Downstairs, you could hear the music pick up and the three of you took that as your cue to join the festivities.

Soon, you were standing at the rail overlooking the Workshop floor, where Bernard was standing, chatting with Curtis, Santa, and some of the other elves. As soon as he caught sight of you, he froze, his glass of eggnog halfway to his mouth and eyes locked on you.

You smiled coyly and lifted the skirt of the gown, carefully navigating down the stairs. He ditched his glass on a cluttered table and met you at the foot of the stairs, taking your arm.

He swallowed thickly, admiring you for a long moment before murmuring, “You look beautiful, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Bernard.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You picked a great dress.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” You nodded, letting him lead you over to where the rest of the elves were paired up, swaying to a slow song. Your arms settled around his neck as he tugged you closer, a hand on your waist, the other finding your free hand.

It was clear in seconds that he knew how to dance, as he expertly spun you out and then back into him with ease, his chest flush against yours, mouth right against your ear. It was one of those moments you were forced to remember he’d lived a hundred lifetimes. He carried them well; he always had.

When the music picked back up, he said, “Let’s go get some air.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back up the stairs to the railing, where a few stray elves were also hanging out, getting some space from the heat of the party. The two of you leaned against the metal, looking down over your new home.

You were quiet for a long while before finally asking the question that had been on your mind since early that morning, in an airplane in another timeline. “Did you know her? The other Aurora?”

He nodded, face serious. “I knew her, yeah. I wasn’t Head Elf at the time, only second in command. She and I were acquaintances, but she was nice.”

“Mmm.” You hummed.

Bernard reached over and touched your hand. “I much prefer what you and I have this time around.”

“And what is it you and I have?” You asked.

“I’m…not sure yet.” Bernard shook his head, tugging you ever so closer, a gentle hand on your waist. “But I do know that in all of my 1600 years, I’ve never felt like this before. Even before, when you left, when I thought I’d never see you again, I was waiting for the day our paths would cross. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but…”

“But, I’m glad you found me.” You interjected, taking another step forward and resting your head on his shoulder.

Bernard leaned in to kiss you, but stopped, noticing all the elves watching. However, when you pointed straight up at a bundle of glowing mistletoe, he knew there was only one thing he could do…

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Ladies, thank you so much for agreeing to meet here at the Pole.” Mother Nature smiled at each of you, seated at the large round table in your office, which was, coincidentally, right down the hall from Bernard’s office.

Around the table were yourself, Mother Nature, and the three other Guardian Spirits, Briar Flores, Amber Sanderson, and Evangeline Cho, each of you dressed for your respective season, but Briar was absolutely glowing, as though a halo of light was positioned just behind her head at all times.

“Thank you for having us, (Y/N).” Briar thanked, bowing her head. “My place is absolutely a mess at the moment. Bunny has paint on just about every surface in the building.”

“Any time, Briar. This place has been quiet since the elves started their break. Things should be getting started up again soon, though.”

“If you need any help saving Christmas this year, you let us know.” Amber chuckled.

“Knock on wood Christmas doesn’t need saving this year.” You laughed, knocking on the table.

“I am serious, though, as soon as Easter is over, we all need to get mimosas and brunch. There is this lovely little island that is just so flowery and perfect this time of year, you’d all love it.” Briar beamed.

The rest of you murmured and nodded in agreement, stopping only when Evangeline looked up at the doorway, biting back a grin.

You looked up to see Bernard standing there, a bouquet of snowdrops in his hand.

“Hello, Bernard. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Aurora, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The guys in foliage need a second opinion when you have a minute.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded, looking to Mother Nature.

“Meeting adjourned. I’ll see you all next month for a progress report.” She smiled, straightening up her papers. The rest of you all stood up from the table and began to exit the office.

Mother Nature rested a hand on your shoulder, glancing back at Bernard. “You look really happy here, (Y/N).”

“I am really happy here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you next month.”

Once the others had scattered to the winds, Bernard walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The guys in foliage, huh?”

“Partially. Partially just the Head Elf wanting to make sure his Aurora had something pretty to look at.” He whispered, an arm drawing you closer for a kiss that you gladly reciprocated.

“Your Aurora already has something pretty to look at.” You replied, a finger booping the end of his nose.

He shook his head, grinning. “Does the flirting never cease?” “Check in with me in a few hundred years.” You replied, setting the snowdrops in your vase before lacing your fingers through his, your other hand rising to rest on his arm as you walked out of the office and towards the large room you’d been using to train your powers. “Now, where were we with those lessons…?”

Tagged: @madameggroll, @capamericant, @midnightmisses, @five-hargreeves-apologist

#bernard the elf x reader #bernard imagine #bernard x reader #bernard headcanons #bernard #christmas #the santa clause

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bg3-stole-my-soul · 5 months

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❤️Tall Fem! Tav x Astarion Headcanons❤️

So— Tall Fem!Tavs— we need more love and I am going to attempt to play with the idea because in fandom spaces I only ever see fem Tavs that are shorter than Astarion and it makes my tall self’s heart ache.

I also know in game it doesn’t matter if your Tav is taller than Astarion…. But like what if it did— 👀

I am going to keep this as racially, background, and class ambiguous as possible however it is very clear the short races like halflings, dwarves, and gnomes this is most certainly not applicable to. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but this is for us 🤌😌

So on that note physically this Tav is tall, muscular, and probably a lil physically intimidating— and like almost every character I write is of Chaotic Good alignment. Tav is a big, sweet, mischievous muscle mommy with big hands—

This is my first time doing a post like this so please be gracious. I did my best to keep this in character for Astarion, while also sweet and mostly focused on his POV.

Being taller than most of your companions wasn’t a bad thing exactly, just a thing. You had outgrown many of your peers ages ago and while it had embarrassed you for a long time, you eventually embraced it. The stares of others became empowering instead of making you try to shrink yourself in any way you could. However this did not save you from being nabbed by mind flayers and infected— damn. It also surprised you when an elf shorter than you managed to catch you by surprise and hold a knife to your throat.

I don’t think Astarion is the type to be insecure regarding his height, man’s petty enough to climb the counters to the top shelf if he damn well feels like it. However upon meeting a female Tav who’s taller than him, stronger than him, he is ever so slightly worried. It makes him want to spur his plan of manipulation for protection into action quickly. Only because he doesn’t want to run the risk of getting snapped like a toothpick—

On that note, watching you fight absolutely does something to this man. Being able to see your muscles all the way from his perch on the other side of the battlefield is certainly something he can appreciate. He can absolutely admit that you are fine af, especially covered in blood.

At first he would be annoyed if you did things like pat him on the head with your huge hands- after all he puts a lot of work into his hair that he can’t see— but comes to realize it’s your way of gentle support. And he supposes it’s better than other things… Eventually he grows to love you resting your big hands on his head or shoulders. And even further down the line holding your hand, his slender fingers tangled in yours.

When this man chooses to try and bite you in your sleep it is absolutely out of sheer desperation because he is terrified of those arms staking him. But when you accept what he is without any real complaint.. he is pleasantly surprised. He likes you’ve got a good heart in that big chest of yours.

When he gets downed in a fight and wakes up to find himself in your arms being carried back to camp OH BOY that might be the first moment he realizes he’s in trouble.

The next time is absolutely the morning after the tiefling party. He wakes up at the crack of dawn snuggled into your tiddies— and as the old meme states “World hard and cold, tiddy soft and warm”. If he weren’t so excited to bask in the sun he would have stayed there all morning. Post confession it is his favorite way to cuddle.

He believes your arms are the safest place to be, and he is probably right. Being held by you makes him feel like he is surrounded in warmth, and if he sleeps there he usually has less nightmares. Drinking your blood with your arms wrapped around him is genuinely sweet and euphoric for this man.

❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️⚜️❤️

~ ❤️18+ HEADCANONS BELOW❤️~

He also enjoys the two of you just snuggling and admiring one another’s appearances, it’s intimate, and it feels right. He loves being able to take his time tracing his hands everywhere on your larger body, finding the places that make you laugh and squirm for him.

He also doesn’t mind a little manhandling if it’s from you, because he knows despite your size you will happily let him move you where he wants or stop if he’s no longer comfortable.

Back at the tiefling party he let you top, and while he does enjoy that, he enjoys it just as much if not more when he does. He enjoys getting to look down at you, and see you come undone at his touch. Call it vanilla, but this man loves being able to watch your face during sex, being able to look into your eyes is a BIG thing for this man.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #astarion romance #baldur's gate iii #astarion x mc #astarion x durge #astarion x tall tav #bg3 headcanons #astarion x reader #first headcanon post

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littlemourningstarr · 2 months

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Take a Taste

Sekh and Astarion pay Dalyria and her Keep a visit- for the first time, with Yenna in tow.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, Yenna is growing up, vampire feeding, almost exhbitionism, blood kink, handjobs, blowjobs, dom/sub undertones, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Astarion swept through the open doors of Dalyria’s keep as if owned it, leading an over-eager Yenna, with Sekh trailing just a step behind. He knew the drow was keeping an eye on all of the spawn- after all, they had just walked in with not one but two mortals- and while Sekh had been there before, and Astarion was fairly sure it was quite clear that he was not to be touched, Yenna was new. Young.

But not young enough to keep sequestered away in Baldur’s Gate, any longer. It had been a hard decision, for Astarion and Sekh, when they decided they were going to visit the spawn, to bring Yenna. But she was adamant she wanted to, and as much as Astarion wanted to coddle her, Sekh believed she needed to be given some freedom.

As if traipsing across the city at all hours of the day and night wasn’t freedom?

Still, it didn’t matter. She was here- and while Sekh could keep a watchful eye, Astarion needed to ensure his presence was known. To remind the spawn that he could, if need be, best any of them.

He didn’t doubt it.

They found Dalyria in the library- which had filled out considerably more, since their last visit. She was standing at a shelf, flipping through a book, but paused the moment the door opened, glancing up.

“I expected you hours ago,” she teased, not closing her book.

Astarion grinned. “Sorry love, but my little darling here got distracted by some… moss, was it?” Astarion glanced back at Sekh, who offered his own beaming smile.

“Yes actually! I’ve noticed there’s been a change in some of what was just common Underdark moss around some of the more inhabited parts of the Underdark, and there was a fascinating patch about an hour back…” Sekh trailed off for a moment, before he cleared his throat. There was just a hint of red, to his dusky cheeks. “That is to say, yes, I got distracted. Sorry Dal.”

Dalyria flashed a sweet smile, fangs on full display, before she turned her attention to Yenna. The girl was standing next to Astarion, quite obviously staring at Dalyria with this awe struck look. “And this,” Dalyria said, finally snapping her book shut and walking over. “Must be the little darling you have been writing about for years.”

She paused in front of Yenna, offering her hand. Yenna took it, glancing at Dal’s fine boned fingers, the subtle jut of her wrist. “Yenna,” she managed.

Astarion wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her so quiet.

“Yenna.” Dal continued to smile. “Lovely to meet you. Thank you for keeping my brother in line.” She took her hand back, reaching over and brushing some of Astarion’s long silver curls off his shoulder. “Gods your hair is so long now. Have you even cut it since… well, him?”

Astarion scuffed, giving his hair a shake. “I have, thank you. What? Jealous? I did always have the best hair of the spawn.”

“It gets in the way,” Yenna piped up, folding her arms. Astarion had freshly chopped her hair before they left- even though he had also done it the week prior. She was insistent on keeping it immensely short. “How many times have you bitched about blood in your hair?”

The elf scoffed, and Sekh pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling language Yenna. That, Astarion knew, was a long lost cause.

Dalyria was laughing though. “Oh I like her, Astarion. I wish you hadn’t kept her locked away for so long.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the place for a mortal child.” He glanced at Yenna. “But she’s old enough now. She could probably take out a few spawn if they looked at her too long.”

“Probably?” Yenna looked affronted. Astarion just waved her off.

Dalyria reached out, smoothed back some of her wild ginger hair, looking at her fondly. “I don’t doubt it,” she said. She glanced at Sekh then. “If you’re interested, the spawn have quite the wild garden out back. I’m sure they’d love some professional input.”

Sekh brightened up. “Come on Yenna, let’s let Astarion and Dal catch up.”

“Why can’t I stay?”

Sekh shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, you could stay inside a library full of books. Or we could go outside and find trouble.” Yenna pinched her lips together, before she was already moving for the door. Sekh glanced at Astarion, a smug smile on his face at convincing Yenna, before he stepped closer, leaned in and pecked his lips.

The drow went to move back, but Astarion reached up, caught him by his collar, kept him close. “Mmm, one more,” he whispered, delighted when Sekh leaned back in, kissed him a bit slower. Astarion wanted to yank at his shirt, pull the drow flush to him, but his husband was stepping back before he could, giving the two vampires a little wave, before he was rushing off, to catch up with Yenna.

Once the door shut, Dalyria looked at Astarion, her face softening. “I’ll be honest, I never expected you to be the one with a family.” She gestured towards one of the library’s couches, and they walked over, settling down. She set the book she had been reading on her lap idly.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprise.” His voice lacked the playful lit he might have had, were it any other observation. Instead it was just soft, adoring.

Dalyria smoothed her hands over the book, took a deep, unneeded breath. “Speaking of family. We need to talk about Leon.”

Astarion leaned back into the couch, draping an arm over the back. He had sent Dalyria a sending spell, advising briefly of what had happened- and that he, Sekh, and Yenna would be visiting, and he would explain in person. It had been much better than waiting ages for a letter to reach her.

It was a shame Sekh couldn’t seem to master the spell himself- Rolan had done it for them, before setting off to inscribe a number of scrolls so they could communicate with their further friends and family quicker.

“Is he really dead?” Astarion nodded. “And Yoosun and… Aurelia?”

“According to him. I didn’t see their bodies but… I don’t believe there was much left.” Dalyria turned away, staring off at one of the bookshelves with a blank look in her eyes for a moment. Astarion let her, gave her silence and space. She had always been a bit closer with all their little siblings than he had.

He had no reason to be- she was the only one that had ever seen what Cazador did to him, was the only one to take him beyond face value.

“How many spawn do you think he had?” She still wasn’t looking at him.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Everything was very… quick. I don’t think we saw most of what he had. And I can’t fathom how many he went through.” Dalyria gave a curt nod.

“You said Victoria was sick… I never knew.”

“None of us did. He hid it well. Only Cazador would have known.” The name would forever taste bad, Astarion knew- but he hoped one day he might be able to say it without his stomach rolling. Or someday just completely forget it even existed, and not realize that he had forgotten. “He was beyond mad, Dalyria. There would have been no saving him.”

She inhaled, slowly. “I believe you. But it still… hurts. I never would have thought…” she trailed off, finally turned her attention back to Astarion. Her eyes looked wet, but no tears found her white eyelashes. “Leon wasn’t who I thought would have gone mad.”

“No, that would have been me.” Astarion flashed a smile- sad, but still a smile, and it was enough to make Dal’s lips quirk up, slightly.

“Your words, not mine.”

Astarion glanced down at the space open next to him, before he said, very softly, “come here.” Dalyria slid closer, leaning over against him, head gently resting against his chest. He lowered his arm, held her to him, rubbing along her bicep.

She fit well. It wasn’t something he’d ever realized- he had hugged her plenty, over the past few years. But during all that time with Cazador- he had been loath to touch any of the other spawn. Dalyria had helped clean him up, yes- especially after his entombment- but she had never truly held him, nor he her. It was as if they couldn’t have allowed themselves the luxury.

Astarion leaned his head down, kissed her hair. He knew she had to hurt, in her heart. She had, in a way, loved them all. She’d just wanted a life for them- the seven, all those other spawn-

“You can’t save everyone,” Astarion murmured, as she draped an arm over his waist, fisted her hand in his shirt. “I know you want to, but you can’t.”

“If I had insisted they stay with me…”

“They wouldn’t have listened. They needed to make their own choice, Dal. We all did.” She shifted slightly, but didn’t lift her head. Astarion let them both lapse into silence, thinking that all she needed in that moment was him there. She didn’t need words to mourn, didn’t need to be reminded of those she had saved. They were all around her.

She just needed time. Something that had plenty of.

“This is in remarkable shape,” Sekh mused, leaning over and eyeing a patch of tongue of madness growing in a rocked off garden, well behind the keep. There was a dwarf and a half elf with him, both beaming over the praise. “I don’t normally even see them get this large.”

“We’re real careful with them,” the dwarf said, stroking his braided beard. When he spoke Sekh could see the tips of his fangs.

“I can tell. Have you done anything with them?” He shook his head.

“First batch, honestly. Dalyria found some books on poisons, but we don’t have much use for that. We thought maybe we could harvest them and trade ‘em out in that town.”

Sekh nodded. Lolth’s Cradle was close enough for that, and there would always be a market for tongue of madness. A proper introduction just needed to be made, so the spawn could traverse safely.

And they really needed to work on their undercommon. But it could all come with time.

Sekh turned away from the plants, found Yenna was examining a sword, held in both her hands, testing the weight. It looked fairly fresh- drow make, for sure. Perhaps one of the many findings the spawn procured during their little adventures out into the Underdark. The smith Dalyria had on hand had done a good job with it.

The drow paused when he realized who was showing her the sword. Sebastian looked just about the same as he had, the last time Sekh saw him. His hair was tied back at the base of his neck, his skin pale but with enough color to show he was fed properly. And he was smiling.

Sekh dared to walk over, not wanting to interrupt- realizing he really didn’t have any concerns over Yenna being around him. He trusted Sebastian enough.

“Sekh!” Yenna called when she saw him, turning and pointing the sword right at him. “Look at this! It’s so balanced, it’s not heavy at all!”

She gave it a little swing, as Sebastian turned his attention to Sekh. Sekh offered him a little smile, as Yenna took a few running steps, practicing a solid leap with the sword.

“You’ve enabled her,” the drow said, folding his arms as he settled right next to Sebastian. “That’s Yenna. Not sure if she even said her name before stealing your sword.”

The vampire gave a soft, little laugh. Musical, almost. “She didn’t, but that’s alright.” He inclined his head slightly, watching her. “She’s yours?”

“She’s my something,” Sekh teased. “But yes. Ours.” He still felt almost trepidatious, mentioning Astarion to the other vampire- just as he wouldn’t bring Sebastian up to Astarion, without being prompted. He could respect the weird hurt they both harbored, over everything. They may not have been in love, but there was still an extra bit of tenderness, rawness, to the two of them.

Sebastian gave a little nod. “She might be better with that sword than I am.”

“Are you learning?” Another nod.

“I don’t want to rely on just… this.” He gestured to himself. “Dalyria has taken amazing care of us, but I want to be able to protect myself, and never be a victim again.”

Sekh dared to reach out, gently grasp his shoulder. “It takes time.” Exactly what did, he didn’t specify. This, all of it- life.

Sekh watched as a number of spawn dragged a bulette close to the keep- one large enough that it would have taken a team of drow, easily. It seemed that the immortal strength was awakening in all of them, even if some slower than others.

“That is huge,” Yenna whispered, staring with large, bright eyes. “Are they always that big?”

“Typically,” the drow said, folding his arms. “That’s definitely a fully grown adult. I have seen some that are massive, but they frequent much more remote locations.”

Yenna nodded. “Can you ride them?”

Sekh snorted a laugh, turning to stare at her. He barely had to look down- and it hit him then, that she was nearly his height. When had that happened?

“Absolutely not. I’ve never seen a tame bulette- not that folks haven’t tried.” He felt a hand ghost along his back, and turned his head to the other side, found Astarion was watching the spawn as they situated the freshly dead beast. He hadn’t even heard the elf approach him. Sekh felt the tips of his claws, poking against his back, through his shirt. Swore he saw his pupils dilate slightly.

Even Sekh could smell the blood, from the bulette. It was heavy, a cloying iron. Next to him, Yenna shifted a bit.

“You can go inside,” he said, “you don’t need to…” watch.

Yenna straightened her shoulders, just as Dalyria came into view, walking over to the spawn and speaking with them. The girl’s eyes stayed locked on her. “I’m fine. I want to.”

She had been adamant, when Dalyria had asked Astarion if he wanted to feed with her and some of the spawn. It was strange- it wasn’t as if she had never seen Astarion feed before, it wasn’t new.

Astarion turned to Sekh then, wordlessly kissed his cheek, before leaving his side, as Dalyria beckoned him over. A few of the spawn had already bitten into the massive beast, fangs working through thick, tough skin. A few had even taken daggers to some of the heavier scale like skin, peeling it away to reveal tender skin beneath. Easier to puncture.

Sekh watched Astarion pull his curls back, leave them resting against the nape of his neck, trailing down onto his back. Dalyria seemed to be teasing him- Sekh swore he heard messy eater, and then Astarion was grinning, those glorious fangs on full display.

Astarion got down on a knee, leaning into the beast, claws trailing along skin- and Sekh watched him open his jaw wide, swore his fangs seemed divinely long, before he was sinking them into the creature. Directly next to him, Dalyria clutched at the bulette, claws puncturing the tough skin and holding on as she bit.

Sekh swallowed, tried not to be distracted. But gods, he swore Astarion was at his most ethereal like this- there was something so glorious, so breath taking, about the elf letting himself be beastly. Sekh adored it, loved this side of Astarion so fiercely it made him dizzy.

He glanced next to him, and Yenna was leaning forward- so far in fact Sekh was concerned she’d fall right on her face. He followed her eyes, and they were still locked on Dalyria, watching as she arched her shoulders slightly. As if there was nothing else in the world.

A little smile crept onto Sekh’s face. It was a look he knew well; he'd given it to Astarion, countless times. He’d caught the vampire looking at him, in the same way. A look of sheer adoration.

And, in this case, possibly a fledgling crush. Something about that made Sekh giddy, because as horrifying as it was that Yenna was growing up, it was also exhilarating.

Sekh gently touched her shoulder, and she glanced up at him, slightly shocked- as if she had forgotten he was there. Silently, he guided her a few steps closer- not worried about her safety. He was there, and he would take on the world to protect her.

Besides, Astarion would never let a spawn touch her. And Sekh trusted Dalyria’s control.

This close the scent of blood was so strong it made Yenna wrinkle her nose. But she folded her arms, didn’t look away. Sekh pulled his hand from her shoulder, leaving her be in her thoughts, in her little world.

Sekh turned his attention back to Astarion, as he lifted his head, sucking in a breath. He didn’t need it, but he had gotten into a habit of breathing while awake, that Sekh swore sometimes the vampire himself forgot he didn’t need to. He had his jaws open, blood dripping down from his fangs, along his chin.

Sekh shifted, felt his pulse jumping. He folded his arms, let his fingers flex, wanted to grab onto Astarion. Wanted to hold his hair back as he fed, wanted to be right there as the color and life seeped into him. Feel him grow warm.

The vampire glanced at him, blood smeared lips curling into a smile, his eyes dancing like the blood moon. Sekh’s heart thudded against his ribs, made his chest ache, the affection and desire sliding down into his belly, pooling in a raging heat between his legs.

Astarion tilted his head back a little more, eyes going slightly heavy lidded, and Sekh watched his nostrils flare, once. And then his smile was a knowing grin, eyes lingering on Sekh for what felt like an eternity.

Gods, could he hear his heartbeat? Could he smell him? Sekh was sure he could, even as Astarion turned back to the bulette, sinking his fangs back in for a fresh bite.

Sekh moved on instinct, body taking over as his mind simmered. He strode over, getting onto his knees right next to Astarion, trailing his hand along his spine. The vampire gave a pleased little rumble, hips shifting slightly, as on Sekh’s other side Dalyria lifted her head, looked at him, intrigued.

She didn’t say a word, and Sekh turned his attention back to Astarion, freeing his hair, toying with it as the vampire grasped at the dead beast with his claws, until they were red, blood seeping under his nails. When he lifted his head again he turned, got that same bloody hand around the back of Sekh’s neck and pulled him in near-violently.

Sekh fell against him, as Astarion kissed him, ravaged his mouth with teeth and tongue. Sekh’s head spun from the heavy taste of blood, the iron-rich salt coating his own tongue, smearing along his lips as Astarion kissed him as if he wanted to claw down his throat, rip out his lungs through his wanton mouth.

The drow returned the kiss in kind, fisted his hands in Astarion’s shirt, tugging him close, letting himself fall back. They sprawled on the ground, Astarion braced over Sekh, bracketing him in, curls falling around them in a silver-white curtain. Sekh nipped at his tongue, before he got his lip between his teeth, pinched it, heard the vampire growl.

The only thing keeping Sekh from reaching for the buttons on Astarion’s pants was the fact that Yenna was still there, a few paces back. He couldn’t have cared if Astarion fucked him into a screaming mess in front of the other spawn- in fact, that sounded deliciously delightful- but he clung to that little thread of control he had left.

Astarion seemed to be clinging to the exact same thread, when he finally pulled from Sekh’s mouth, pushed himself up until he was straddling him- making a show of wiping his mouth along his hand, fangs still poking out at his lips.

Sekh glanced past Astarion, found Dalyria was still watching them. She had since stood up, had her arms folded, this intrigued sort of look. “Is this always how it is with you two?” she asked- voice teasing, yes, but also genuinely curious.

“No,” Sekh managed, pushing himself up on his elbows.

And from a few paces back, “Yes!” Yenna, yelling. Dalyria started chuckling, as Sekh craned his neck back, caught sight of Yenna and her ridiculous, toothy grin. “Don’t listen to them, they don’t know how to keep their hands off each other.”

“Yenna,” Astarion warned, even as he was still stradling Sekh.

The girl rolled her eyes. “What? Not my fault you both don’t know how to stay quiet and that they don’t build walls thick enough to block you out.”

Dalyria fully laughed now, bending over slightly with the sheer force. Sekh turned back towards her and the spawn, could just see past Astarion that a few had paused their feeding, were watching with bemused little bloody smiles.

The elf stood up then, shaking his hair back, before he offered a hand down to Sekh. Sekh took it, and Astarion pulled him to his feet, brought him flush to him, but hesitated close to his mouth, as if stopping himself from taking another kiss.

Sekh grasped at his waist then, whispered, “I think they want a show,” before he closed the space himself, kissed Astarion as if Sekh had been the blood-lust filled one. Astarion mewled into his mouth, hands roaming along Sekh’s chest, scrambling and scratching at his shirt.

The drow forced himself to keep calm enough to not shove Astarion back against the bulette and strip him right there- again, another lovely idea if he was honest- and instead pulled back after a moment, panting softly.

He glanced away from his husband, and realized Dalyria had stopped laughing. She lifted her hand, waving off towards the Keep. “Go,” she said, before she turned her eyes to Yenna. “Nothing will touch your little darling while I’m here.”

There was only a moment, a single sliver of breath, where Sekh glanced at Astarion, gauging his reaction- before he was grasping at his wrist, turning and hauling Astarion towards the keep, nearly running.

Astarion’s shoulders dug into the wall, a groan swallowed down as Sekh’s mouth pressed to his, harsh, needy. He moved to get his hands on the man’s waist, but Sekh grasped his wrists, pushed them hard against the wall, pinning him. Astarion arched, mouth opening, only to have Sekh’s tongue pushing in, tracing his fangs, making him shiver.

He rocked his hips forward, and Sekh squeezed his wrists, thumbs pressing into where his pulse would have once been. His grip was tight, almost made Astarion’s bones ache.

The drow bit his lip then, hard enough that Astarion grunted, before he finally released Astarion’s wrists, effortlessly dropping to his knees before him.

The vampire stared, slightly wide eyed, as Sekh popped the buttons on his pants, fingers easing the fabric apart, so he could reach in, squeeze the shape of his cock through his underwear. Astarion sucked at his lip- and tasted blood. The ghost of the bulette’s, yes- but stronger still, his own.

Sekh smirked, had this knowing look, before he turned his attention back to freeing Astarion’s cock. He pulled him free of his underwear, giving him a slow, firm stroke, watching as precum beaded up his slit, rolled down in a single drop over his knuckles.

“What got to you so quickly, my love?” The drow rubbed his thumb against the bundle of nerves, just below his cockhead, and Astarion swore he saw starbursts.

He swallowed, throat feeling tight. Gods, Sekh needed to ask? He could smell the arousal on the drow, watching him and the other vampires tear into that beast. Could smell his cunt and how it dripped at the sight of all that blood-

At the sight of Astarion, embracing his monster.

And yet somehow he seemed perfectly composed, and Astarion was the one with his damn cock out, heart racing. It wasn’t fair. Mere seconds ago they had both seemed mindless, and yet now Sekh seemed almost poised.

Astarion was happy to let his drow have that control- in this moment, he just wanted to be pulled apart.

Sekh leaned in, placed a ridiculously gentle kiss to his cockhead, lips smearing precum over soft, hot skin. “Starshine,” he murmured, not a question, just a blissful sigh. Astarion’s hands scrambled along the wall, searching for purchase and finding none. Sekh opened his mouth, made a show of sliding Astarion’s cock over his tongue, halfway into his mouth-

And then back out, slowly. Astarion let his eyelids flutter, as Sekh did it again, still slow, leaving his cock spit slick. The drow’s hands went to his hips, and in a rush of strength shoved them back hard, so Astarion was pressed tightly to the wall.

“You don’t move,” the drow whispered, “understand?”

The vampire managed a single, weak nod. Gods below his stomach was nearly aching with a fucking need to be properly buried in that mouth- but Sekh went back to that slow half swallow, leaving Astarion on edge. The hands on his hips relaxed slightly, as Sekh pulled off, chose to drag his tongue down Astarion’s cock, kiss at the base, let it rub spit against his marked cheek.

Astarion’s fingers flexed against the wall. He wanted to thrust forward, to watch Sekh’s eyes water as he took his mouth and his throat. Loved when his husband got so fucking desperate when he sucked his cock that he could sob, knew his cunt would be aching, drenched.

Gods Astarion wanted all of him.

Sekh took him back into his mouth, this time until his cockhead was nudging his throat, then back out, slowly. Astarion exhaled a shaking breath, lost himself then and tipped his hips forward, trying to thrust faster.

The hands on his hips tightened, slammed him back. “No,” Sekh growled, the guttural voice dragging from his chest. Astarion choked on a gasp over it, his cock twitching, dripping precum.

“Fucking gods Sekh,” he muttered, as the drow licked at his head, before taking him back to his throat. “What’s gotten into you?”

Astarion wasn’t complaining- far from it- and it was honestly normal to have the drow be in control, but this was-

This was something else. And it was utterly divine.

Sekh didn’t answer, began to bob his head just a little faster. Astarion reached forward then, got a hand in his hair, fingers tangling in it. He felt Sekh’s hum of approval, the other hand staying splayed on the wall, still trying to hold on.

Astarion realized he was panting- more with the restraint to keep from fucking his drow’s throat, than anything else. But his belly was fucking tight, his spine and his balls aching. Once he might have even been embarrassed about how easy he was to get off-

Except it hadn’t been like this, with anyone else. With Sekh he could actually feel good, feel safe enough to enjoy himself. And even years into this, this life, it still floored him.

He tipped his head back, eyes half shut, peering out throw heavy lidded eyes. He swore he saw something, at the door- which they had left ajar in their rush to get into the bedroom. But Astarion honestly didn’t care- if any of the spawn were curious enough to want a peek, let them watch.

He moved his eyes back to the ceiling, letting them fall shut, fingers flexing against Sekh’s scalp, in his hair. A silent warning.

In response a squeeze to his hip- gentle, now. No need for Astarion to try and draw this out.

The vampire let his mouth go slack, a pleased moan, ending in a sigh leaving him, as his orgasm washed over him in a blissful wave. His muscles went loose, felt warm, as his cum spilled into Sekh’s mouth, over that talented tongue. His drow took him in, held him back against his throat, even tried to swallow with him there, making Astarion’s belly flutter as the overly sensitive head of his cock was stimulated.

When Sekh pulled back slowly, Astarion managed to look down, watch his wet cock slide from those pretty lips. Sekh stood up, hands leaving Astarion’s hips- one grasping his chin, holding him firmly still, as he leaned in for a commanding kiss.

Astarion stayed lax, happy to let the drow lead, to follow his beckoning tongue, to whine as Sekh’s other hand moved between them, wrapped around his half hard cock, began stroking him. “Dar-ling,” Astarion managed, swore his legs were trembling.

Sekh rolled his thumb over his cockhead, and gods above, Astarion wasn’t going any softer. He could feel his muscles, confused, over stimulated, responding as if he was on the verge of orgasm again.

Sekh pushed a thigh between his legs, helped to support him as he rubbed at the underside of his cock, had Astarion’s breath rushing out so quickly he was growing dizzy. He couldn’t seem to make his eyes focus, and closed them instead, as Sekh went back for his mouth, got his lip between his teeth, squeezed another drop of blood from it.

The drow drank it down, shivered with delight. His tongue flicked at Astarion’s fangs then, pressing to the tips and making him shiver.

“Take a taste,” Sekh whispered, his hand moving to properly stroke Astarion again. Gods, he was hard, felt so fucking close already he swore he would die.

Sekh gave him a proper kiss, and when Astarion nipped at his lip, didn’t pull back. The tip of one fang punctured it barely, but one bead, then two of blood laced over Astarion’s tongue, had his head swimming.

He came from the taste alone, from the ghost of the decadence of his love’s blood. He was shaking with him, whimpering against Sekh’s mouth, as the drow hushed him, stroking slowly, milking the fucking orgasm until Astarion couldn’t even breathe- and forgot that he didn’t need to.

Astarion felt his knees threatening to buckle, and Sekh released his cock finally, hooked an arm around him as he leaned forward, rested his weight against Sekh. “Hush, I have you,” the drow whispered, his voice no longer commanding but soothing, sweet. A sudden switch-

Because that was what Astarion needed. And the man knew, without being told.

Astarion pressed his face into the crook of Sekh’s neck, breathed him in. Sekh shifted slightly, managed to get Astarion’s cock back into his pants, so he could lean him back against the wall-

Only to scoop him up, to grin, wicked and divine, as he carried him to the bed. Astarion got his arms around Sekh’s neck, felt like he was in a dream, everything moving slow, fuzzy along the edges.

Sekh settled him onto the bed, and Astarion refused to let go, trying to drag him down on top of him. His drow laughed, nudged the tip of his nose against Astarion’s. “I’m not leaving,” he promised, “just let go for a moment, okay?”

Reluctantly, Astarion did, and Sekh climbed into the bed, sitting up against the pillows. The moment he settled, Astarion was draping over him, snuggling into his chest, chest rumbling in delight when Sekh got his arm around him, simply held him tightly.

The vampire felt beyond relaxed, felt boneless, against his drow. Satiated from all his thirsts, he had a thrumming warmth seeming to echo through him. Sekh idly pet his hair, as Astarion let his eyes drift shut.

“We left Yenna with a hoard of vampire spawn,” Astarion mumbled, “we’re awful parents.”

Sekh laughed, and Astarion could feel the vibrations of it, in his chest, against his cheek. It made him drowsy. “She’s alright. Dalyria would never have let a thing touch her- and honestly, at this point, I trust these spawn.”

Astarion sighed. “Trusting a vampire, your biggest weakness.” He smiled into Sekh’s shirt, as the drow gently rubbed his hand down his spine, making his scars tingle beneath his shirt.

They lapsed into silence, for a time, and Astarion almost began to doze, before Sekh said, “I think Yenna might be in love.”

Astarion shot up at that, pushing himself to his knees and staring at Sekh with eyes. At the sudden movement Sekh laughed again, so much so that his belly had to ache with it. “What?” Astarion asked.

Sekh took a moment to compose himself, reaching up to wipe a tear away from one eye. “The way she’s looking at Dal- it’s precious.”

“Dal- Dalyria?” Astarion’s voice nearly cracked, and Sekh just grinned.

“Relax Starshine. It’s a crush- it was going to happen one of these days. Honestly, I respect her taste.” Sekh folded his arms, and Astarion frowned.

“I don’t know if I should be more alarmed that our Yenna is capable of a… crush,” he gestured almost wildly at the word, “or that you’re attracted to my sister!”

Sekh bit his lip, quite obviously trying to keep from a third bout of laughter. He was failing. Astarion reached out, shoved him- but Sekh grasped at his wrists, fell awkwardly onto his side, missing the pillows, and dragged Astarion with him. The elf sprawled over his husband, as Sekh squirmed about.

Astarion dipped down, kissed his jaw, before he pinched the meat of his shadowed cheek between his teeth playfully. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” Sekh whispered, playfully tugging at one of Astarion’s curls.

“Me? Of course not.” He pushed himself up, chose to settle his weight on Sekh’s waist as he straddled him, folding his arms.

Perhaps he was pouting. Just a little. Sekh just grinned up at him, the sort of smile that was unguarded, unrehearsed. The same kind that made Astarion’s insides tremble.

His pout fell away to a smile, and he found he was laughing at the man beneath him, at himself. “Perhaps a little,” he conceded, as Sekh lifted his arms, found Astarion’s hands and took them both, tangling their fingers together.

“No one in this life or any other could compare to you.” Sekh said it so seriously, despite the grin on his face. His mismatched eyes were locked on Astarion, making him feel seen- as the drow always did.

Once, it had been terrifying. But now?

Astarion wouldn’t have it any other way.

#baldur #astarion #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #sekh'met #sekstarion #astarion/tav #astarion x tav #eternally yours

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not-alien-girl-v · 2 years

Note

love your work! can u write a kai anderson x reader smut with him as an elf on a shelf????

absolutely yes!!!!

warning: elf!kai, smut, lowk being attracted to an inanimate object, unprotected sex, size kink, he’s an elf so whatever kink that is, watersports, dirty talk, use of a different hole in the female body, ready has to lick her own pee, elf!kai licks readers eye, gets sealed in her wall

note: not my best work but that’s ok. JUST FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES I SWEAR GUYS IM NOT CRAZY. tbh this isn’t that good but it’s comedic and that’s all that matters to me, also it’s not x reader it’s x claire sorry not sorry

she couldn’t believe her eyes. he looked just like him.

it has been a full year now since kai’s untimely demise, and sometimes she felt as though his face was everywhere. in the passing of strangers, in the clouds in the sky, the paint imperfections on her ceiling as she layed awake at night.

but here he was. his stern face magically before her, his greasy blue hair, his dark eyes. all fit compactly onto the small face of the elf on the shelf she stared at in the store.

how had the makers of this doll gotten every single feature correct about him? all down to the single freckle at the tip of his nose.

claire was supposed to be moving on. claire had moved on. hadn’t she? as she grabbed the doll and stuffed it into her basket, heading to the checkout lanes.

___

she thought about it all night. the way she delicately unpackaged the doll, set him carefully up above the mantle, a place where Kai and her used to sit, cuddled up before the fire, now much duller and more empty once he’d left.

the elf sat there like a reminder, of him, of who she used to be, what they once had. she had to avert her eyes before she teared up too much.

claire wasn’t really sure what she was expecting the first night she took him home, but when the elf remained there, untouched, unmoved, looking still, identical to her beloved but in the sense that it, too, was lifeless and cold.

though, it’s not like she could just throw it away. throw him away. so she left him there. sure, it hurt to see him like this, but it hurt more to have to say goodbye for a second time. moving one is for chumps, right?

the second night was different, however. firstly, claire had taken a shower at 10, finding that none of her clothes were clean, she was left to shut down the house for sleep completely naked. it was no big deal. she lived alone now, and she kept her windows closed most of the time.

she locked the door and tidied up the house, turning off the lights of the well decorated tree in her living room. as she practically danced around the house wearing nothing, she was completely unaware of the tent slowly growing in the groin of the elf, carefully watching the show. it wasn’t something she’d concern herself with, given that elves don’t have genitalia, or so she was led to believe, but something about this elf was different.

he wasn’t like other elves. perhaps he was special enough to cure her lovesickness.

after taking care of all that needed to be done, she layed down in her empty bed once again, as she had done for an entire year now, day after day, and it didn’t ever get easier, she just got used to it.

that’s when she heard it. thump thump thump

‘what the fuck?’ she thought to herself. she would have said it out loud, but she had two reasons not to: one being that she promised herself she wouldn’t allow herself to go crazy in such a way and another being that if an intruder had entered, they would surely hear her.

she didn’t dare move, her breaths shallow and quick as she waited to hear if she truly had gone crazy yet.

thump thump thump

she lived alone. of this she was sure. no doubt in her mind, nothing in her house was supposed to make any noise after she had retired to her bedroom. unless…

no, it couldn’t be. sure, she had dreamt of it almost every night, no, every single night since she had lost him, but there was no way he could walk back through that door. magical things don’t happen in the real world, as much as you hope and pray.

she crawled out of bed and crept down to the floor by her bedroom door, trying to make out a shadow of what might be out there. the hall light was on, something she definitely was not responsible, and her stomach dropped.

the more she thought about it, the more the most dangerous part of her brain took over. what did she have to lose? she had no family, aside from kai, no friends, aside from kai’s friends, though she hadn’t talked to them since, and was working a minimum wage job in a fast food restaurant.

she could storm out of the room and confront her attacker with nothing but her bare fists and let god be her witness as no one else sure would be.

with no second thought, that’s what she did. she swung open the door.

in this world, there were a few things she had to be sure about, with each passing day, the threat of losing her sanity became more apparent.

1. magical things don’t happen in the real world

2. she truly was alone in this world, in every type of way

3. kai anderson, the love of her life, bane of her existence, and the only thing that ever kept her tethered to the earth, was dead

though, as the elf, also known as kai, stood before her in the doorway, menacing as ever, almost as much as when he was alive, with a boner in his silly little red footie pajamas.

it was erotic in nature to claire, being so sexually aroused by an elf doll, but she found it hard to be ashamed as he resembled her beloved so closely.

“kai?” she gasped out loud and fell to her knees, still not even eye level with the elf.

“claire…” the elf spoke lowly and claire expected some type of comfort, jesus, he had been gone a year now, how much more can she take, but he stepped forward and continued, “you’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

she picked her head up from her hands. “wha- i don’t understand?” she spoke through sobs.

“you heard me. loud and clear. you’ve been naughty. i’ll tell santa if you don’t obey me.”

“what do you want, divine ruler?” she looked down at him with dark eyes.

“lay down on the bed, you dirty little slut.”

she felt her arousal grow with every squeaky word he spoke. something about being an elf, in such a small body caused his voice to sound something like a chipmunk, but she found it erotic, regardless.

she lay down on the bed, legs spread, ready for whatever may happen. he climbed on top of her, straddling her face with his doll legs, and he let his micro erection spring free. “suck, bitch.”

she gulped. “how exactly do i-“ she started but he shoved his length into her mouth before she could finish. it was almost like a single french fry, warm, salty, and small on her tongue, but she worked her best to please him in any way he desired.

“good girl,” he moaned out to her, and attempted to smack her face with the sewn in white gloves he wore, but he could merely caress her cheek limply with every attempt. he sighed and didn’t try again.

his moans got higher in pitch as he got closer to his release, and she was worried he was getting so high in pitch that only dogs would hear him soon.

“fuck baby, i’m gonna-“ he didn’t end his sentence as his hot load shot into her mouth, being about a single drop on her tongue, but once again, she didn’t mind. anything for her master, even if he was an elf.

he removed himself from her mouth the moment he felt her swallow, and moved down to abruptly stick his length into her leaking cunt.

she moaned loudly, out of pity for his small size and in some odd way, immense pleasure, as she found his micro penis much more arousing than she expected.

he groaned in annoyance. “fuck, i can’t feel you at all,” just as claire was about to reach her breaking point, he pulled out, and developed a sinister look on his face. “i know what will work.”

she aimed to raise her head to look at the elf working on her but her body went stiff when she felt his dick slide into her urethra.

“what the fuck are you doing?” she whined out in pain but he continued his attack on her smallest hole, the exact right size for his less than average manhood, or elfhood, as it would now seem to be.

“fuck, you feel so good you little whore. you’re still daddy’s princess, aren’t you?”

she hardly felt any pleasure anymore, mostly just an odd pain, but it was enough knowing it would please her master.

“yes daddy. i’m your princess daddy. i love you daddy,” she moaned. “oh shit,” her voice dropped an octave as panic began to swim around her leaking body. “fuck, daddy, i’m gonna-“

before she could finish her sentence, a powerful stream of piss shot out of her, through the hole the little elf man had claimed, pushing him out of her, and with that, given his now minimum body weight, catapulted his entire body away from her, thwapping him against the wall with a loud smack before he could register what was happening.

he sat up and observed the mess she had made. “lick it up, bitch.”

“what?” she sat up in shock to look at him.

“i said lick it up. since you’re daddy’s princess, you have to do what daddy says.”

though he was just an elf, he was still scary, intimidating and had a murderous gleam in his plastic eyes, something that claire didn’t want to explore, given her reoccurring nightmare of being murdered in her sleep by a doll.

on her hands and knees now, she licked the trail of piss with her tongue off the carpet, attracting all types of gunk left in the carpet from her lack of vacuuming, before she was met face to face with the elf again.

she expected him to leave her a kiss, something she hadn’t had in ages, even in the time leading up to his death. she’d be lying if she said that what she had with kai was perfect, or anywhere near it, and as the last few months went by, the two hardly ever spoke.

instead, he leaned in, slow and carefully, noticing her wide eyes gazing back at him, and licked her eyeball. she flew back in surprise, clutching her teary eye with both hands. “what the fuck?” she cursed, screaming and sobbing in pain.

“i always wanted to try that when i was alive, baby. thanks for giving me the chance to live out my wildest fantasies.”

but the clock struck midnight. with a panicked look on kai’s elfy face, he scrambled to speak one last word, “wait!”

it was too late. his sopping, putrid, soggy elf body was lifeless on the floor, just as he had began. claire picked him up and chucked him at the wall again.

“fuck you!” she screamed as she beat him against the wall, over, and over, and over, until a big whole was left in the wall.

she stuffed him inside of it, and with a plaster repair kit she had been smart enough to purchase a few months back, she sealed him in there. she hoped she would never have to see his handsome, elf face ever again, no matter how much it pained her greatly.

moving on wasn’t for chumps. it was for survivors, and that’s who she was.

#ahs #evan peters fanfiction #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters x reader #fanfic #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson #ahs cult

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blu3stwizard · 8 months

Text

Gerudian Dashboard Simulator 2

🍷 WhinewithWine Follow

Capitan Marcus Graphitter, Mariott's head crime syndicate boss who co-opertaes with the city guard, is a nasty little thottie and just died making it clap in his own tavern

🖼 Grandiose-Aesthetic Follow

#Lascue #Knightly Adventure #Enchanting #Northwestern Vale #Breathtaking

🖋 Coralines-shameless-smut-blog Follow

Ser Sean Mar y Lyonel de Lazure x !Arranged Bethrothed Reader Imagines

Keep reading

🦐Drunken Treasure Follow

gurll this is nottt the time he was just declared missing two days ago

🎻He/Hymn Follow

So like are we *totally* sure that Duke Berdrick isn't a lich? Because like. Have y'all seen him?

💎Revivify Follow

The Duchy Necromancer when you ask him why he has to spend a minute with Berdick alone once every 8 hours

💃Eladrinking Follow

Leaving the function almost immediately after entering. call that Huanthing

🧙‍♀️Fagisterium-Ofiicial

Wait I gotta cast legend lore

🧙‍♀️Fagisterium-Official

Okay yeah this is funny

🔪Butcher-than-a-butcher

I think that not having a courtyard to dunk on some barons during balls is false advertising, and should be illegal

🏹MILFs-top-Milf Follow

So i'm on my watch as a city guard, yeah? And we've been hosting mercenaries for the past two months, so it's been hectic, i've seen some shit, don't get me wrong, but this is beyond even me. I'm on street patrol on Smith's Bend, and i see this gagglefuck cluster of adventurers just like? Enter the sewer that were pointed out by a child or perhaps a gnome. And lemme tell you. They looked like professionals. I'm talking like plate armor and magic items. So protocol dictates that i observe and not intervene, because I don't want to get my rectum mangled by some jackass wizard's spell. So they enter, sure, why not, and I decide to move along on patrol, which takes me the better part of two hours, and as I go back there, there they are? BUt they're covered in some strange viscera, and one of them is like fucking caked in blood and mucus, and weirdest part is that one of them is missing??. Anyway they don't pay me enough to bother adventurers, but like what? Girl help

🏰Marthot

the tags on this post are killing me sksjhsjaj

🐉Tiamats-head-game Follow

hey would that not be the guys who felled the sewer hydra

🐄Cowmomma Follow

Yes! They are called The Songbird Brigade, and they were also present at the Lazuli Palace Gala recently. they seem to be closely associated with both Lord Commander Creagan and Jacynthia's bethrothed, Krugan. Supposedly, they were also present at the great knighting of Ashenaide crisis

🎇Beric-the-Cleric Follow

So what happened to the last guy? Wouldn't they at least recover his corpse?

😈Thiefling Follow

maybe the sewers orcs got him?

🎇Beric-the-Cleric Follow

the what?

🐈Nekomancer Follow

🧙‍♂️BlizzardWizzard Follow

Hey guys they're actually called the Nightingale Company

⚔MILFs-top-Milf Follow

what happened to my post

🐐GOAT-knight Follow

Wake the fuck up sheeple. New archeological dig reveals the remenants of a long forgotten civilization from before the giants, along with what seems like an attempt to create an artificial god

✨Blame-Shift

and Marcianno Kordessa's third volume of Encyclopedia Geneticae STILL isn't out

#unproductivity king #go girlie give us nothing 💪

🌹Maidone

Need me nepo-dick from a cringefail Ashenaidean knight

🐙Blundersea Follow

🦈Elf-on-the-shelf

🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀🦀

🐙Blundersea Follow

kys knife-ears

again. campaign meme. don't worry everybody

@zoomire @no-comment-data-missing

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werezmastarbucks · 1 year

Text

golden

part two - Silver

part three - Black

part four - Green

credence barebone x fem!OC (platonic)

fantastic beasts x hogwarts legacy crossover = au

at the Circus Arcanus, Credence, who's looking for his identity and is trying to free Nagini, is a witness to arrival of a new 'freak'. She's constantly yelling something about poachers, and and revenge, and has strange golden chains on her arms and legs.

warnings: minor SPOILERS for Hogwarts Legacy!!!! mentions of abuse, active abuse, mentions of animal abuse (very light, I hate it), angsty of course, but not too much, violence

author's note: to combine the game and the movie, I had to insert a prophet type of the character, and do the time jump. Let's assume since the character had ancient magic, and is a witch, time is lenient to her. Also, as this is the insert of a game character, I gave her prophetic powers in part, to make it feel more like a reader. idk if it makes sense

word count: 8300

music: mermaid by skott, moon river by audrey hepburn, nature boy acoustic by aurora, hijo de la luna by mecano, la petite mort by coer de pirate

Credence couldn't stand this yelling. When Skender went on whipping another freak, trying to beat obedience into them, the boy with the mop tried to hum under his breath to phase out the noise. All of them were freaks, otherwise, they didn't have names. For the audiences, they had their circus names: the Bonfire Woman, the Wicked Twins, the Snake Woman. None of them ever said these titles out loud, none felt like artists. He, Credence, not being the one on the stage, was less than a freak; he was a nobody. It served him just well at the time. Skender would usually call him 'boy', or 'hey, you'.

There was also a serving house-elf who got the same portion of Skender love as everybody else. He didn't have a name at all, and everybody called him 'elf'.

There was noise. Sometimes his bones would burn, and his joints felt like they were about to be torn out. Credence didn't know whether he was screaming then, or the noise of the circus just became louder.

He only had one thing to do.

Unlike the freaks, he was relatively free to move around, and that and only that helped him to witness a new object being brought. The noise she created was almost insurmountable. Credence hid behind the curtain, his eyelids heavy from the lack of sleep. The smells of the circus were itchy in his nostrils; sweat, wet rags everybody wore, scat, sour smell of rotten food. The smell of burning flesh from the Zouwu cage.

Skender servants were whipping the horses, hurrying with the big cage mounted on the carriage. The girl inside was sputtering curses so quickly Credence couldn't process half of them. She was all golden and young, she looked like a hostage. But she wasn't a freak. Her long braided bronze hair was discheveled, she was definitely a witch. On her wrists, and her feet, there were thin but hot-looking golden chains. As she swirled around in her cage, jumping at the bars like mad, Credence noticed the same type of chain on her neck, locked so tight it must hurt her. Her eyes were bizarre, mad, like she was not all there.

He had the wonderful ability to hide so well Skender couldn't catch him even when he stood next to him behind a shelf with potions and medications. In the commotion of the newcomer, nobody noticed him.

The new freak was kept in a bird-like huge cage that was lowered from the roof of the tent; three people were needed to keep her in place with long poles while the cage was being put in place. Not because she would catch flames or turn into a cougar; but because she was so wild all the time.

The bars of her cage lit red-hot everytime one touched them; it was done not to let her move too much. There was just enough place for her to lay down in fetus position. Credence knew all that because he cleaned, and could hide like a ghost. To kill the time somehow in here, until he could come up with a plan, he hid around the corners, behind the curtains, below the desks, among the empty cages, and listened to everything. He was like a spirit, more than a man; and like an annoying poltergeist, he was treated.

As the dust settled, after her hectic arrival, Skender had the honors of listening to her interminable flow of curses and threats; all too rude and self-confident to Credence's taste. He would cram himself in between the clothing rag and the row of shelves standing behind the tent wall, and peek out with one eye to take a look.

"When I get out, and believe me, I will", she hissed with an accent Credence would place somewhere between Europe and north of England, "you will regret ever seeing me with your two eyes".

Skender laughed, his face almost hidden behind his uncombed, lush beard, his dirty face with little pig eyes glistening with sweat.

"You're now in this cage with the chains, little monster".

She tried to grab onto the bar, and the bar sizzled with the piece of skin from her palm. She yelped with pain and jumped back, cradling her hand. Skender started laughing again. Dull music of bells flowed into the tent in narrow torrents. Her face was almost covered with her hair, but big, golden hoops were glimmering through it in her ears; she looked like a jinn.

The girl crawled back and took the bars with her two hands, as if the scorching iron didn't hurt her at all. The movement was quick, sharp; Skender twitched with his whole body and held his breath for a second. For some time, the only sound in there was the bubbling skin on her hands as she held the bars.

"I will make you eat your own two eyeballs, poacher. Remember that".

Skender grabbed a walking stick placed against a box further away, and took two steps towards the cage. The girl slowly let go of the bars and sat down at the sharp sound of the strike.

"Sit back, and be quiet".

The man left, and Credence stepped deeper into the shadows. As the sound of Skender's steps faded away, he heard the girl moan with pain. He peeked out again: she crouched on the ground, trying not to scream.

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"Mesdames et Messieurs! Come closer, see tonight, at the Circus Arcanus, for your pleasure! The ancient creature of magic! Yes, you heard it right! The old hag looks like a young girl but let it not mislead you! For this creature was caught in the darkest forests of Scotland doing ancient magic!"

The crowd gasped. The girl sat in the middle of the scene, on the ground, seemingly unbothered by the dozens of pairs of eyes watching her. Her gold glimmered in the light of candles.

"These chains on her ankles, her wrists, her neck, and around her waist" - Skender banged his stick on the bars of the stage, and nothing happened. "These chains", he repeated again, louder. Of course, she wouldn't perform for him. Her body was shaking with rage. Skender bared his teeth, motioning to the servants to move into the stage and kick her. Nobody would volunteer. Finally, the house elf stepped into the little arena, trembling with fear.

"The chains you're about to see keep her magic at bay. These mind-boggling locks have been forged by Tubal-cain himself, and present another wonder of the world, recovered five hundred years ago in Jerusalem. Only a fine feature of blacksmith art can really contain power like this".

The elf approached the girl carefully and she lifted her face towards him. Surprisingly, she didn't attack him, but even let him get her up to her feet and lift the hem of her chemise a little, where the chain was seen. Having completed this little task, the elf ran back out of the cage quickly. She stayed standing, observing the audience like a wolf, with no human recognition whatsoever.

How old was she, Credence wondered. And does ancient magic really still exist?

"Now, if you will, ladies and gentlemen, on the sides of the cage, we need a little space", elated Skender continued. The spectators shifted and moved, chattering quietly. On both sides of the scene, two magicians appeared, with their wands ready.

"To prove to you how strong the hag is, we will lit her on fire. And believe me", Skender grinned with his showman's sneer, "no hair on her head will be harmed".

Credence caught himself holding his breath. As the two servants shouted, Incendio!, simultaneously, the long fiery tails flew out of the tips of their wands, rushing towards her. The last the audience saw of her was her unmoving position, her face with absolutely no expression. For several moment, she was burning, standing, like a straw figure they burn at the end of winter. After the fire ceased, the viewers gasped once again: the witch was still there, not a sign of burns on her; her clothes, her hair, her whole body unharmed.

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"The next time you levitate", Skender said. After the show, she was dragged and thrown back to her narrow cage, but didn't lose her spirits. Now was the time for her to laugh.

"Miserable fool. I don't levitate by command".

He waved his fist in the air as if he could do something with it. Credence had witnessed her jump on one of the servants with her feet and her fingers spread, trying to gouge his eyes out. She used no magic, but her anger alone gave her a little headstart.

"You will! You will do as I say".

"It doesn't work like that!" she shouted.

"Next time, you levitate like a fairy, or I will start torturing the elf".

The smile didn't quite leave her face, but her eyes hardened.

"You remember what I told you, Skender? Once I get out of here..."

"It won't happen", Skender spat on the floor in front of him. "You talk big, but you won't get out of the chains. You do as I say, bitch, and stop jumping if you don't want your face burnt like your hands".

Credence later interloped the elf as he was bringing her food, and gave him the ointment, for her palms. It wouldn't rid her of scars at once, but should take away the pain.

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Credence loved no one; Nagini loved him. Because he was braver than he seemed, and cared more than he showed. He was nice to her, he talked to her while everybody else, even the freaks, tried to keep their distance. In this little torture prison, the victims even formed alliances and the closest to Skender, put down the outcasts. Credence was not like them, and he was the only one who treated her with decency.

Only through him did she get any news of, if not the world, but at least the enclosed space of their circus. Who perfromed what, who Skender beat up, who left, who came. About the new freak, the ancient witch, she proposed to get closer to her. Maybe she would help them escape; she clearly desires that. Maybe, if they gave her what she wanted - Skender, - and free her of chains, she would liberate them together with her. Credence agreed, but he didn't know how to handle her.

"Be nice to her, like you are with me", said Nagini. Credence was looking down at his shoes on the dirty floor. He was, in fact, not the best for cleaning.

She did not levitate, the next time. As she said, the owner's requirements were unreasonable. There was no way she would levitate. The next performance was a disaster. She just stood there, disinterested, looking at the people outside like she wanted to crunch on their bones. No matter what Skender did; he poked her with his stick and lambasted her with curses, and screamed at her; she wouldn't leviate. Eventually, the servants were called to repeat the same trick with the fire. Credence asked himself, why she bled when stroke with a slicing curse, but wouldn't burn.

After the show, almost as it ended, he raced through the circus. He didn't know why the witch treated the elf so well, but there was talk of her killing poachers in dozens at a time, before she had been caught. He found the elf in the kitchen, mopping half-heartedly, and, with all the magic he possibly had in him, locked him in a huge locket in his little room at the end of the tent, next to the petty, where he slept. He threw some cheese and bread inside, and swore him to be quiet, and listened, as Skender ravaged through the circus, looking for him. He sat on the locket, shivering. Magically, no less than in a sway of miracle, Skender never made it to his little hole. After several hours of beating, screaming and bludgeoning everyone who crossed his path, Skender finally have gone quiet. Maybe he even left the tent to go to the city and buy a new elf; Credence opened the locket and begged with the elf to stay there for a while. The elf didn't much care and didn't fight back as he shoved him deeper.

She was yelling for Skender. Her voice was shrill and angry and made Credence hold on to his head as he approached her cage. The sharp pain in his temples razored him so deep he couldn't see for several seconds.

He sneaked into the place they were holding her and finally stood in front of the cage and not outside, hiding.

She was sitting with her back to the entrance, cursing.

"You should try to comply", he said, interrupting the torrent of crying.

"You should do what he says, for your own sake, and those around you".

He bowed his head a little out of habit. He was still a little intimidated of her, even though she was in the cage.

The witch turned to him, silenced at once. First, she was frowning, but, as she looked at him, her face lit up with a strange expression. He saw the recognition in her eyes, and it took him by surprise. For some time she was even quiet, and then, in a voice no one has heard her use here before, she called,

"Credence?"

She stood oh ner knees and reached her hand through the bars, careful not to touch them. Credence didn't move, uncertain what it meant.

"You know me?"

"Yes", her hand was reaching for him. The gold bracelet on her thin wrist glimmering. Credence wouldn't budge.

"How do you know my name?"

"It's a long story..." she appeared to be pondering something. Then scowled with horror.

"What year is it?"

She had a very young face; not older than eighteen, maybe. It was difficult to say. Her eyes knew something, there were dark shadows around them. But her face was the face of a maiden. And she asked him what year it was?

"Nineteen twenty seven", he said, observing her. She retreived her hand back, touching her head absently, trying to comb her long hair.

"Oh, no", she looked back at him, "we need to leave this place, Credence".

"Is it true that you have ancient magic? That you're old?" he asked, deciding to leave empty politeness aside.

"Yes, but these chains contain it", she said, looking at her wrists. "This one on the neck barely lets me breathe. And to think that I was back at Hogwarts, poachers' doom! That's what they called me! But I completely lost the track of time. I should've understood, when Dumbledore came to teach... I was away for too long..."

Credence blinked several times, frustrated at her empty muttering.

"How do we get them off?"

For a second she thought, then her face lit up. She was so different, so gentle, Credence noticed, when she wasn't screaming profanities at people.

"You could do it". The way she said it was meaningful.

"You... know what I am?" he asked. Familiar itch in the back of his head made him stoop, trying to contain terror tearing out of him. Suddenly he was expecting a strike, but it didn't come.

"Yes", she said tenderly, like someone who really knew him. Credence made himself look up and examined her face again. He was sure they've never met before.

"How? Is it because you're a... an ancient witch?"

"I am not ancient, Skender just invented it for the sake of effect..." she gasped, "the elf! What is with him? Is he alive??"

Credence watch her almost grab on the hot bars again and hurried to answer,

"I hid him. He's okay".

"Oh, thank you, thank you Credence. How many animals are in this circus?"

"Only Zouwu and a kappu. And, well, the elf", Credence shrugged. It felt secondary to him, but clearly, that's what she was most concerned about. "There also used to be a hippogriff and a couple of half-goblins, but Skender got rid of them".

Credence saw she was about to cry.

"What do you mean, got rid of them?"

He tried to actually pull the memory of them from his head; the months at the circus were blurry, like one big, loud, horrible carnival with constant bashing noise and the mixture of color.

"Look. Will you help us if I release you?"

"Who is with you?"

"A friend. Have you seen the snake woman?"

"Nagini?" she asked. Credence decided not to amaze at her knowing them all. He just nodded.

"We should get her out. And the elf. And kappa, and the Zouwu, very important".

He got agitated at her energy, seeing as the plan was suddenly being pulled at the seams. It wasn't their plan to rescue the whole circus.

"No, listen-"

"Bring me the biggest knife you can find, and a bell, alright?"

Credence listened to the outside, making sure nobody was listening to them like he used to.

"Alright..."

She outstretched her hand again.

"Give me your hand, Credence".

Maybe she was about to read destiny on his palm. He saw the scars on her hand, looking very similar to his own. As he touched her slender hand, he felt the surge of magic, and warmth, at the touch of a human. Strange thoughts howled in his mind. He wanted to slide his fingers up and tear the chain from her wrist away.

"We will get out of here. Believe my rage, friend".

As he returned to Nagini to give her the news, he was still pondering on the touch. It seemed he got a glimpse of what his magic could be; as if he touched something equally strong, and equally dangerous as himself, but more golden.

"The next time she's brought to performance, we escape", he said.

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The circus was readying for the evening show. The fire breather was brushing her hair; she gave Credence a glance of resentment as he passed her room. The twins were arguing about something, and the beasts were nervously pacing in their cages. He was overwhelmed with worry; he was sure the witch was going to complicate everything once she's out. It occurred to him in one of those moments, that he never asked her name; while she knew his and Nagini's. In his mind, she was the golden witch. The hoops in her ears, the bracelets around her wrists, and ankles, and neck, all vaguely symbolic, of what, he didn't know. As they gleamed in the bright candlelight, the flashes were as bright as the sun, almost white and iridescent.

Skender's workers poked her with sticks as she walked calmly towards the arena; she did listen to Credence, and became agreeable, convincing Skender he managed to break her down after all. Nagini had been picking a hole in her own cage, in the narrow, thin bars that kept her even in her snake form. At the right hour, she turned and slid quietly, concealing in the shadows of the drapes, while everybody was busy preparing for the show. The look of her empty room was the signal Credence had been waiting for.

He picked up a kinfe from Skender's empty room - he had been hiding the elf in his room, feeding him; he had to get him on a chain not to let him run back to his master. It was for his own good. He made a mental note to release the elf once the tumult begins. He had gone to see the lock on the Zouwu cage and realized it would be useless to battle with it without magic. The sight of the beast, contained in a small cage, stirred anger in him. He decided that he agreed at least on this with the witch. Zouwu had to be set free.

As she was being led through the corridors, happy Skender walking in front of her, Credence peeked from one of the sections of the tent, sending her a nod. She barely moved her eyes but formed fists of her hands. Credence ran. As he was running, he tore the hat from the clown's head, because it had bells. Nagini sliding beside him, his greatest weapon so far. He sneaked behind the back of the worker, and gave him a jab in the back of the neck. Nagini stroke, and the man fell on the ground.

The fuss began. Skender turned around, alarmed by the shrill scream of pain. Nagini slid between their legs, attacking the next guardian, while the witch kicked the third one. She jumped again - like a monkey, her limbs coarse from all the sitting, and started bashing his head on the ground. The horrified worker screamed. Credence watched as Nagini turned back into human and thought it a mistake; she would be far safer if she just crawled away from the path of the witch to let her deal with Skender. He didn't know why she did that. Behind her back, the witch was making her way towards Credence with her hand outstretched. He ran forward, hanging her the knife. A spell whistled just above her ear, hitting Credence in the shoulder. He caught himself on the wall, sharp pain in his limb crawling down to his fingers. He felt the black whirlwind inside grumbling with rage; he would lose control soon, and then the whole circus, together with his two accomplices would be buried. He clenched his teeth, looked into her eyes. The witch turned around and ducked, missing another spell. She was quite good.

Nagini attacked Skender with nothing but her short, sharp blade; and a green flash lit the narrow corridor for a split second. Credence heard himself scream as Nagini fell. The witch yelped with rage and threw the knife. As Nagini's body hit the ground, the weapon cut the air silently, and lounged in the middle of Skender's chest. He already put up his wand again, but didn't have the chance to yell a curse. The witch followed the knife, a golden lightning, and launched on him as he, too, crashed on the ground.

There were inhuman screams as she bent above him. Credence could feel the salt in his throat, while crawling towards Nagini. She was dead.

"What did I tell you, Skender?"

Skender shrieked with pain as she plunged her sharp fingers in his eyesockets. Then, gurgling sound, in Credence's head it sounded like music. He was half-way turned now, having forgotten about the elf, or anything else, for that matter. The world around him was already in shambles; the other freaks ran towards the noise, and now were scattering in all directions at the sight of what the witch was doing to their master. There was roar, and shrieking, and laughter, and terrified screams; wondering yelling from the spectators already at the arena, waiting for the show that would never begin.

She pulled on his shoulders with force, but was still unable to get him up if he didn't cooperate.

"Credence".

He lifted his eyes on her. Her gold touched her cheeks; long locks flying around her head.

"Please don't come undone; not now. You will kill us all".

He made it to his feet, and only then realized he was clutching her hand. She looked down at Nagini, horrified.

"This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to live... what have I done..."

He bit his lip until his teeth hurt. He split his lip in two.

"Skender killed her".

She pleaded with him to go release the animals. The circus workers were already gathering, unsure what to do. There was no explicit need to fight them for they were unguided without the showman who was now lying on the ground, with his squelched eyes in his open mouth. Credence looked at her hands, covered in blood.

"I'll release the elf".

"Wait", she ran back to the body and recovered Skender's wand.

"I can't do any magic at all, but you can".

"I've never had a wand in my life", Credence mumbled. Her face was in front of him, her hands took his head, covering his ears.

"Magic is in you. You're a natural. You can do a simple Alohomora. Meet me at the Zouwu cage outside".

Credence thought of taking Nagini with them, but couldn't think of any possible way to carry her. The best he could do was, taking her to his hole - yes, it was tiny, and smelly. But he slept there, and there was no other remotely acceptable place for her. Feeling his face twitching with crying, he put her into his bed and touched her face.

He then cut the chains off the elf.

"I'll tell master Skender!" he yelled.

"Skender's dead. The witch killed him", Credence replied coldly, "you can come with us if you want".

The elf glanced at the body in his bed and shook his head. Then he walked slowly away, and Credence followed him into the corridor. As he walked, he watched the ravaged rooms and freaks running away. Kappa's aquarium was now empty; his travelling water bag was gone together with him. As Credence turned to exit the tent, he found the river vampire sitting on Skender's chest and sucking the blood out of a big cut on his face. Credence slithered between them and the wall and ran outside.

The witch was standing next to the cage of Zouwu. It was visibly nervous. The cage wasn't even big enough to pace, so it just rocked from side to side, puffing. Some servants were also outside, trying to get her with spells, but she was hiding behind the stands with colorful costumes.

Credence looked at the wand in his hand and realized he didn't know any offense spells. When he heard someone use them, he didn't pay attention, not even a thought in his head that he, one day, would wield a wand. The flashes were raining on the side of the tent, trying to get her, as she crouched on the ground, yelling at them. It seemed, she had lost her mind completely and was just trying to defeat them with verbal damnations. Credence pointed Skender's wand towards two men and thought, 'go away'.

A powerful surge of air picked up the rags, clothes and garbage from the ground, eventually reaching them. It held them in the air like toys, and then they were pulled with force, thrown away, against the nearby market buildings, like glass figurines. The other two made themselves scarce instantly.

The witch reappeared, a bit dowdyish but in one piece, and, suddenly, there was a big, big smile on her face, making her look like a girl again. She gave him two thumbs up. Credence swayed and ran towards the cage. There was a crowd gathering on the square already; people were concerned, someone yelled something about the aurors.

He ordered, Alohomora!, and the lock cracked, and fell from the bars. The witch made him step back as she opened the door and let the beast out.

"Where's the bell?"

He pulled the clown's hat from behind his belt and handed it to her.

She shook the hat in front of the huge beast. It was big, like all the circus itself; bright-red and fiery yellow, it had two gigantic amber eyes that now followed the tiny clown bell attentively.

"Get his collar off", she whispered. Credence didn't even register it until she pushed him lightly on the shoulder. She continued to shake the bell in front of the monster; Credence was getting angry. He wasn't some spell-ready machine, he didn't know how to get the collar off without hurting the Zouwu. He voiced that.

"Credence", she said assertively, tugging on his collar. Finally, a gesture familiar to him, brought him back to his senses. "Credence, my friend, listen to me. Focus on the collar, and say Evanesco. Can you do that?"

He stummered.

"I-I guess".

"Go on my boy. There are people gathering already, and soon, the people of Ministry will be here, and I don't trust them much".

He pointed his wand at the tight iron collar, barely visible in the beast's lush orange fur.

"Evanesco!"

Instead of quietly vanishing, the collar first narrowed, choking the Zouwu, and then broadened, and exploded.

The beast roared and moved its enourmous body in all directions. People around them shouted and rushed away, but Credence decided to fix it immediately. He tugged on the creature's fur, trying to run behind its moving face. He could hear the witch calling his name, and the sound of bells. A strong push bounced off of his hurt shoulder, and Credence was in the air for a couple of seconds. The Zouwu, and the square, turned upside down, and he crashed onto a pile of rags at the circus entrance. As the whistling in his ears calmed down, he regrouped, and saw the witch trying to calm the beast down. She was just like a little squirrel in front of its face. It didn't pay attention to bells anymore, it was snapping its huge jaws, trying to swallow her.

He couldn't control the obscurial anymore. He could feel, rather than understand, as it lifted him up, tearing his body apart. Black smoke lifted him above the ground and pulled forward, towards her. He only just managed to catch her reaching hand as he soared up, into the sky, losing his consciousness in the roaring vortex of the wind.

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When he woke up, the freshness of the air almost lulled him back to sleep. He saw the stars, glimmering silver, winking at him. The smell of fire near him made his stomach suck its guts with hunger.

He sat up, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark, and the fire, scared. Has he killed her?

"Good evening", he heard. She sat on the other side of the bonfire, comfortably leaned against a stack of hay. Credence looked around. They were far away from Paris; the spaciousness around, and the quiet of the night told him they were outside of the city.

Her face was only lit by the bonfire, and she looked like a fiery ghost.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, his voice rusty.

"Oh, not much. Maybe an hour. You're strong", she said, with a hint of strange admiration in her voice. She was pulling her hair, playing with it, finally relaxed. It was obvious she had been preoccupied.

"I- I never asked your name", Credence said.

"Orlaith Peverell", she replied, simply.

"Oh".

She grinned.

"Did you expect something else?"

He was embarrassed at his reaction.

"No, I just... just thought about you as 'the witch'", he said, bowing his head.

"Oohh, I like it. The Witch. The poachers used to call me the Cutter, but the Witch is much more noble and insidious, I think".

Across the fire, her smile glistened like lightning.

"The Cutter?" he wondered.

"I used to use Sectumsempra on them", she motioned in the air, as if she was slicing the fire diagonally. "It's a slicing curse. It opens up numerous little cuts on the body of the enemy. With time, I mastered it so well I could chop them into pieces with one spell".

"Why did you hunt... the poachers?"

"Yes. Well, when I was at Hogwarts, the Forest was swarming with them. I would walk through it to meet my peers, and there would be voices in the woods. I decided to clean the forest. You should've seen what they did to the animals they caught", her face changed into the grimace of hatred.

"And how did you get caught?" Credence felt like he was treading on top of a thread, asking her further, as if she could snap. He rubbed his neck which was a little sore after turning. In fact, he realized, his whole body ached, but now it was this warm ache of relaxing muscles.

"Oh, it was so simple. I was not being careful. Dumbledore told me to be discreet, but I was so arrogant. I have ancient magic, Credence. I could turn the earth. I could move mountains, almost. I thought I could take on twenty, thirty men at once. And I could. But, well, I hunted poachers, and they knew the strings to pull. They caught me up in between two flames. They said they wanted to put me in chains and one of them, he held this baby deer in his hands, threatening to slice its throat".

Credence frowned,

"Not even a magic beast?"

"Does it make any difference? As I let them put the chains on me, they let it go. I didn't know these were so powerful", she tugged on her wrist. "Can you try to take them off?"

She was, herself, like a magical chained beast.

He shook his head.

"If I tear them off, I tear you apart with them".

"I am useless", she sighed. "If I weren't useless, Nagini wouldn't have died. This wasn't her fate. She was supposed to live on".

Credence felt the knot in his chest, and concealed his face for a moment.

"Who will take her place now?" she mused quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Orlaith gave him a look of significance, as if she was seeing him for the first time. She even stood up and circled the bonfire to sit next to him.

"How are you after the flight?"

He was taken by surprise by her question. Very rarely, maybe once or twice in his life, has somebody asked him how he was. How he felt, whether he hurt. She was visibly unsure whether to touch him or not, and halfway through, Credence wished she did. She touched his hand quickly.

"I'm alright".

"Can I see your arms?"

A vomit-inducing feeling snaked into his stomach. No way, there are these cracks on his skin, through which the black core is seen. His core. He was dying.

He shook his head slowly and moved away a little.

"I asked you", he repeated, a bit colder, "what you were talking about, about the fate".

She sighed and turned towards the fire. Only now Credence noticed that the witch wasn't wearing any shoes. Her feet must be hurting.

"I know things. Like, your name, and what you are. And I know some of the future, although it's uneven. I can't tell you everything now, it's too sad for me. But... I know that, because I was there at the circus, Nagini died".

He was trying to place this kind of magical ability somewhere on the spectrum of what he knew.

"Are you clairvoyant?"

"Not quite. I just... know how the story goes. It's rather useless now, because I've already been changing the course of time. It seems I've bothered everything".

"Do you know who my mother is?" he asked quickly.

Orlaith was expecting this question. Her voice was filled with sorrow,

"No, I'm sorry. I know that you are an obscurial. Or, rather, there is an obscurial inside you. But your family..." she narrowed her eyes.

"You know, I can tell you this. You are the first - and the only - person in the history who hasn't only survived the first years with obscurial, but lived to see adulthood. You know what that means?"

Credence was silent, thinking, how many times he has reflected upon that. It wasn't something to be proud of, or amazed. Clearly, Orlaith thought that. That he was that special, strong, chosen one. She looked at him like that; like he was something.

"Come on, Credence".

"I don't know. I've thought about it. I can contain it now, control it a little. But I don't know what it means".

She rubbed her foot unconstrainedly. The chain on her ankle winked at him.

"I think... well. When you think about it like that... you must really be very strong to fight and even tame an obscurial like that, for so long. You must have some very old blood. Maybe you're one of the very powerful trees, Credence. I've only heard of several warlocks who could theoretically have that much of magical control".

"What's it good for?"

"It narrows the search greatly".

He shook himself up. Cope, he thought. She makes a lot of sense.

"And... who do you think..."

"I don't know American wizard families, I'm sorry. See", an upset laughter shook her body, "I know so many things, but none of them are useful for you".

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In the morning the first light woke him up. A foggy new day was rising above the countryside; Credence had no idea where they were. Chances were, he would need to turn and fly again, only to find out where to move on. While Orlaith slept, snuggled in the hay, he went searching for any houses at all; clutching Skender's wand, he was ready to use it to get some food for breakfast, and shoes, for her.

The remnants of a village were situated not far away, but no people. There was no food; he only found a couple of old, shattered houses, and a big, empty barn. Inside, he found a pair of beaten down boots, small enough for her feet. And a little brown chick, no bigger than a sparrow, peeping softly. He picked up the baby bird in his hand, feeling strangely hollow.

"There aren't even any scraps to give you, little one", he murmured. Together, a chick on his palm, and boots in his hand, they walked across the huge barn. He did manage to find a very old, half-empty bag of crops; but no human food.

As he came back, the witch was already awake, sitting there at the cold bonfire, like someone struck her on her head.

"Sorry, I'm not an early bird", she greeted him. He showed her the shoes, and the chick he found, sure she would love her.

Orlaith was amazed at the little baby like it was the most fantastic thing she'd ever seen in her life. She let it sit on the skirt of her dress, and then handed it back to Credence.

"I think she likes you more".

She was very grateful for the boots, too. Although they were still slightly big for her, she put them on at once, smiling.

The question of breakfast never came up. As they started discussing what to do next, it turned out they had very different plans of action.

"We need to go back to Paris and somehow hop on a train to London. From there, we-"

"No", Credence refused, "I have an address. There is a chance it's my mother's place. That's why I came to Paris in the first place. I have information. I need to go see her".

Orlaith shook her head assertively.

"No, Grinderlwald is looking for you. You won'd find anything in France, Credence. Your best chance is with Dumbledore. We need to seek him. Him, or Newt".

Just the name he recognized stopped him from shaking with anger.

"Newt? Scamander?"

"Yes, you've met him. He has connection to Dumbledore. He'll help you. At Hogwarts, with Albus, you'll be safe".

"I don't need to be safe. I'm looking for my parents", he pressed. Orlaith looked at him with her almost golden eyes. In the light of day she looked more tired, but still mysterious, sparkling. Like a fairy. It was a surprise she couldn't actually levitate; with all her wavy hair, and long dress, and round rings. She was all the light Credence lacked, in his appearance. He knew he was black, bloody and heavy.

"If Grindelwald gets you, you may get the answers, but then you'll die".

"That's what I want".

She stood up, towering above him. Credence was forced to look up upon her. Her face was concerned, unreadable otherwise.

"Don't say that again, Credence", she said quietly. "You will have a better life, without this curse. You will heal, and with healing, you will cast the obscurial out. Hasn't Nagini ever told you it doesn't matter what you were born?"

The sound of her name made him jump out.

"Don't use her like that".

"She was right", Orlaith continued, "you will find your family, but you shall find them not through the alliance with Gellert Grindelwald".

"Is that also a story you know?" he asked with his fists clenched.

"I'm much like you, but my destiny was more gentle with me. I don't know why I have ancient magic; my name only gives me so much to ponder on. But it doesn't matter how I came here, who sent me, why I know what's going to happen. I learnt to control it, it doesn't matter to me anymore. What matters to me is to keep the people I love, safe".

Credence turned away, away from her gaze, that made his spine twitch. He ignored the word she said, it didn't apply to him. Obviosuly didn't apply.

"I thought you only cared about animals".

He heard her chuckle. Her hand laid on his shoulder, and he felt the magic again. They were like two parts of a mechanism, vibrating off of each other. Two sources of infinite magic. It was surprising she didn't feel that, or didn't show. He put the little chick into his pocket.

"I need to go back to Hogwarts. They must be looking for me. They're looking for you, too".

"You go then". Credence hadn't mentioned still that he had no idea what 'Hogwarts' was.

"You don't understand..."

Credence turned back to her and clutched her narrow shoulders. He hadn't touched anyone in years, at all. He could feel the bones under his fingers, and her flesh, warm. He could almost feel her bloodflow, that's how vivid it was. And her slightly open mouth, her flaring nostrils, and her golden earrings, all of it, opened up a gap he didn't know existed in the world. Connection to someone else. She didn't retaliate, didn't scream at him; she didn't get angry or scared. The obscurial inside of him lingered obediently without raising its head. He let go of her, ashamed.

"You don't understand", he managed to utter, "I've been living, without a name, for twenty-seven years. I don't know anything about Grindelwald, and I don't think I care. I can't care".

She put her hands up, with her palms, scarred but much, much healthier than before the ointment; she never got to know that it had been Credence who sent it to her. The elf didn't actually like her that much at all.

She didn't get the chance to say anything, as her eyes enlarged with fear.

The sound of the wind was too swift behind his back, and the smell of someone's presence hit his nose.

Orlaith clutched his shoulder, digging her nails into his flesh, right where the spell hit him yesterday. She held him like she wouldn't let go even if they chopped off her arm. He stood next to her, looking at one man, who had apparated silently and was waiting for their attention.

How much had he heard? Shouldn't be too much, since Orlaith noticed him almost at once. But what if he had been creeping before?

His white face, a face of an old falcon with one glass eye, observed them with quiet contentment.

"My boy", he said softly. His skin crawled. He remembered this person, from before. His suggestive hands on Credence's neck, not warm, but dry and cool, the need to freeze and just comply that always overcame him when this man was beside him. Even when he looked different, Credence was awashed with the sense of importance, and doom, and inevitability. He did care, he thought, deciding the things were much simpler a second ago. Seeing Grindelwald quietly eyeing Orlaith, as he was ruminating. He now got the idea of urgency all of a sudden. A person like this, who had manipulated him to find an obscurial, only to use it, like a weapon. If he got a creature that wielded ancient magic into his arsenal, there would be horrifying things happening.

Her voice echoed strangely in his head. Sure, she would have these chains broken, but then she'll die.

Orlaith just clung onto his shoulder, trying to shove him behind, as the wizard examined them.

"Finally, I found you. Good that you're spending time outside of the city, Paris is so dirty. Who is your friend?"

"She's a freak from the circus. We escaped yesterday", Credence said, which came as a shock to himself. Without a stutter. He knew he could destroy Grindelwald if he really wanted. If he had time to practice, to use this creature inside of him. If he really tried.

As the wizard made a polite step forward, Orlaith barked,

"Don't touch him!"

Gellert's mouth formed an 'oh'. He was entertained.

"A freak, from the circus? And what little tricks do you do, mademoiselle?"

She was about to open her dirty mouth and flood him with everything she could come up with, but Credence took her hand and pulled it away from his shoulder.

"Nothing. She could barely levitate. Why are you here?"

"I have come for you, Credence", Grindelwald cooed quietly, his eyes still on the witch. Credence saw how the old wizard was contemplating her golden collar.

"Or should I take her, as well?"

Orlaith tried to grab him again, but Credence shook her off. He didn't even have space to give her a look.

"You need me? Let's go", he said.

"Credence!"

He closed his eyes and formed a storm. In a second, he turned, letting the obscurial out, and it was so easy, almost painless this time. Encircling her, sheltering her from the wizard, he whispered, hoping that she would hear,

"He can't know what you are".

He couldn't see her face, engulfed in the black and orange vortex of himself. The fractions of his soul were tearing at his eyes, ice cold. Then he moved towards Grindelwald where he knew the man was standing, and they flew, together, like two black swarms, towards the skies.

She kept calling his name.

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Dumbledore was most puzzled, happy, relieved and worried all at the same time. She begged him to go at once, but the blood pact weighed on him. As he worked on the chains, he was thinking.

"You know, Orlaith", he said, musingly, "that chick Credence found in the barn. What was it like again?"

The chains were almost choking her now. In presence of someone who could break them, they started killing her slowly, squeezing her throat.

"Well", she hissed, "it was small. Smaller than a chicken baby. Dark brown, with some spots. Interesting, green eyes, very uneven green".

"And the spots - golden?"

Something snapped. Orlaith already thought it was her own artery. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy, two Dumbledores floating in front of her. As she saw one golden little snake on the floor, she took a deep breath of air.

Albus was shaking his hand, like it burnt.

"Yes, pale golden", she said, touching her neck and feeling a scar with her fingers. "Why?"

The next chain, feeling its sister defeated, started crushing her ribs, and Professor rushed to disenchant it.

"Um... well... I'm thinking. You're right about Credence being uncharacteristically strong to whithstand an obscurial for so many years and even stay sane. It does mean very old and powerful blood".

"Don't tell me he's a Peverell", she squealed. One of her ribs cracked, and Dumbledore cursed the chain several times.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow ow ow ow!"

Finally, it fell down, as well. She could feel magic running through her veins, bright purple, and blue, and red. All her body was shot through with the warmth of it - a feeling she hadn't appreciated before. Albus mended her rib.

"Why?" there was a curious smile on Dumbledore's face.

"Why what?" she panted.

"Not a Peverell", Albus smiled wider.

"Oh, you know. Wouldn't want to find out that I fell for my cousin".

He was gentle with her wrist chains, smirking.

"Oh, no. See, I think this wasn't a usual chick. I'm not sure though - but", it was obvious Albus was uncertain. He gave her a long look.

He was fussing with the third chain, muttering.

"What was it then?"

"If it has pale golden spots, and unevenly green eyes, it might just be a phoenix, and coincidentally, my brother had confided in me, not earlier than three months ago, that he had had a son".

Orlaith let the magic shoot down her limbs, busking in its welcoming tingle. The rest of the chains broke and fell off her. Dumbledore stood up, content that he had no need to kneel down now.

"Professor, you think he's a Dumbledore?"

"Not sure, but he might be. He's the right age. And you can stop calling me Professor".

She looked outside, where spring light glinted on the surface of the great lake. How the boy would have loved the sight of these peaceful mountains.

"My brother met this muggle-born girl in summer of 1899. He only decided to tell me now, because, well, Fawkes left him, all the while Newt brought news of an orphaned boy with obscurial. You know there had already been an obscurial in our family".

She nodded.

"And Aberfot thinks his son ended up in America? How did he become orphaned if he has a living father? How did you not know of his existence these twenty-seven years?"

He laid his firm but reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"All of those are good questions, Orlaith. But do answers really matter right now? If Aurelius Dumbledore is in Grindelwald's hands, we should throw all forces to get him out".

She nodded again, now, in agreement. She rememebered Credence wasn't big on all this philosophy. Aurelius wasn't.

"He only went because he was afraid that Grindelwald will figure out I have ancient magic".

Behind her, Albus sighed with his kind, wise sigh, and it sounded like a smile. Aurelius, she thought. Golden, like her.

#ezra miller imagine #credence barebone #hogwarts legacy #credence barebone imagine #aurelius dumbledore #fantastic beasts #albus dumbledore #gellert grindelwald

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babykentthegent · 9 months

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Lucky 7-Months

Somehow we are nearing the end of the year and what a year it's been! We started the year wanting to adopt a baby and ending the year with a 7-month old. It's been a rollercoaster of a ride, but we wouldn't have it any other way. Kent is learning and growing so fast that it's hard to keep up. His hair is getting long and he now has two little baby teeth in his bottom front gums and two vampire fangs trying to bust through the top. And his personality...he is nothing short of perfection. He's so loving, so silly, and has a way of bringing sunshine into peoples' lives. The love we have for this boy is boundless and continues to grow each day we spend with him. Feels like just yesterday we were flying home from Texas just before summer and now it's almost Christmas!

In the last month, Kent has tried so many different foods. He really enjoys eating solids and is getting better at using utensils. That's not to say that he is clean about it - we find food all over the place, including the ceiling. He just learned that the dogs will lick his hands clean and has turned it into a little game. The friendship he is developing with the dogs is so special and warms our hearts. Between our two giant hounds, his grandparent's small pooch, and his nanny's birds, we think Kent is developing a strong love of animals.

With this year being Kent's first Christmas, we've been considering what traditions we want to either create or carry on with him from our families. The holidays certainly feel more exciting now that we have a kiddo. With Christmas having been my mom's favorite holiday, and her having passed away in December, the last five Christmases have felt like a candle that had been blown out. Kent has brought light and joy back into our lives and this year Christmas feels special again. I can't tell you how many lives Kent has touched with his mere existence, but I can tell you that he has completely transformed ours. As the year comes to an end, we can't help but feel immense gratitude and are so happy for the honor of showing Kent the world.

Some of the traditions we hope to introduce him to:

Reading the Night Before Christmas on Christmas eve

Opening one present on Christmas eve

Leaving out cookies and milk for Santa + carrots for the reindeer

Watching Christmas Story on Christmas eve and Lord of the Rings trilogy (extended edition) on Christmas day and dad's birthday

No Elf on the Shelf for this family - My ADHD brain won't possibly remember to do this every night not to mention Rob thinks it's creepy, haha! To each her own! ;)

Kent got to meet Santa for the first time not once, but TWICE. He did so great and didn't even cry! That was until Santa turned him around to show the camera his booty message. We were no longer in eye sight and he no longer had his parents to reassure him that he was okay. It made for a fantastic photo, though! The second Santa he met was while visiting Rob's family. It was such a nice surprise and Kent loved tugging on Santa's beard. He also got to meet some distant cousins that were closer to his age. His cousin Penelope even taught him how to hug properly. It took a couple eye pokes, but he eventually figured it out.

Kent has been surrounded by family and loved ones this month. He really seems to be social and loves interacting with everyone. So many people have told us how good he is, how he never fusses, and is such a laid back baby. This kid is all smiles and is so good at communicating what he needs. Kent spent time with multiple grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins. He loves everyone and everyone loves him. <3

Christmas is just about here and we could not be more excited! We know he'll likely only be interested in the wrapping paper and less on the gifts themselves, but I am just grateful that we get to experience his first Christmas together and to begin our family traditions.

Happy new year to everyone reading! We hope that 2024 is full of new adventures and more happy memories ahead!

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combatfaerie · 10 months

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Ficlet: Bedecked

Story: 2021: Bedecked Word count: 1,079 Relationship(s): Becky/Seth Also available at:AO3 and Wattpad and dreamwidth Summary: Seth tries to figure out Christmas traditions.

"Stockings? Santa photos? Elf on the Shelf?" Seth sounds like he's making his way through some arcane checklist and that's because he basically is. It's not like his family doesn't celebrate some version of Christmas, but now that he's been with Becky for almost three years, he's been exposed to more Christmas rituals and traditions than he could imagine. At least I didn't propose as her Christmas present, he tells himself. This is Roux's first real Christmas—she wasn't even a month old for her first one—so he wants to make sure she enjoys it.

Becky comes over and looks at the paper in his hand, smiling softly. "You made a list? Aw." Wrapping her arms around him, she cuddles up to his side. "That's so sweet."

"Well, I mean, it's not like I haven't done Christmas before," he replies, hoping he doesn't sound defensive, "but I know it's your favourite holiday, so I want to make sure I know what's going on."

"As long as you don't do that Happy wife, happy life bullshit with me," Becky insists. "You have to enjoy everything too."

Happy wife. That's been Seth's goal from the second he knew he was going to propose. Their wedding was postponed because of COVID and so much happened before they finally got wed—Roux was born, Becky's father died—that it feels like they crammed a decade of experiences into a year. Becky made her in-ring return at SummerSlam and won a title, and things have been going full tilt ever since—and Roux has been with them for most of it, on the road, on flights, and backstage. "I know. I just know it means a lot to you," he replies, "and I think it would be cool to build some traditions for her too." He looks over to their daughter, who's happily dancing with the dog. "I know it can be whatever we want it to be...."

"Exactly. I'd say yes to stockings. I had one as a kid and they're fun. There's always small little presents you can sneak in there. Photos with Santa?" Becky grimaces a bit. In some ways, Roux is remarkably well socialized, in large part from being backstage with so many adults. It may be different when she's the centre of the spectacle, though. "If Mick was doing a Santa appearance, that's one thing. I know we're getting the certificates," she adds, "but I don't know about a mall Santa. We'll have to see. We can try. The mall may be the hardest part of that equation."

Seth nods. In Davenport, anyway, they're recognizable enough that they get stopped frequently. The fans usually aren't rude—mostly they just want a selfie or an autograph—but it can make even the simplest activities take forever. Los Angeles has its own problems. "There must be some... private Santa functions or something, right?"

"Probably. We can look into it." He's not at all surprised to see that Becky has a list of her own and she adds Look up Santa options at the bottom. "Elf on the Shelf?" She frowns again. "I never had it. I think it's a bit weird, to be honest. Also, not too sure how Darrell and Kevin would take to it."

"Good point." The cat and dog were good with Roux herself, but they considered any toy left on the floor to be fair game. Unless the surveillance Elf was kept on a high perch, it likely wouldn't be safe. "Um... matching pyjamas?" When Becky chuckles, he just shrugs. "I saw it on a commercial. I didn't know if it was an actual thing or not."

"I know some people buy matching pyjamas for their families for Christmas Day, but...." Becky trails off, glancing over at Roux. "You'd probably overheat in flannel, and she seems to have your genes for that, so she'd probably have the shirt off in ten minutes."

Seth laughs. "She is my mini-me," he agrees with a grin. Then he raises his voice a bit. "Hey Roux, do you want matching jammies for Christmas?"

Roux perks up at the mention of jammies and toddles over to her parents. Jammies means bedtime, which in turn means stories and dancing and picking out her favourite stuffed toy to sleep with that night. "Ammies?"

Seth crouches down and hugs his daughter, lifting her up with a groan to make her laugh. "Not right now," he explains carefully. "For Christmas." He points to the huge tree in the corner that they put up yesterday. They're inviting his mother and stepfather over to help decorate it, so it looks rather bare at the moment, but Roux loves it all the same; Seth has caught her sprawled beneath it more than once, napping happily. "Would you like to have jammies that match Mama and Dada's?"

Roux looks over to Becky. "Mama ammies?"

Becky nods. "Would you like some like mine?"

"Yeah!" Roux nods so emphatically she nearly bonks her head on Seth's chin.

"What about Dada?" Becky asks, darting in to kiss her cheek. "Should we get Dada jammies like Mama's too?"

"YEAH!" Roux's enthusiasm makes Seth need to tighten his grip on her so she doesn't fall. "Dada ammies too!"

"Well, that's one thing settled," Becky declares. "Now we just need to go jammie shopping."

Seth sighs. Becky was right when she said he would probably overheat, but if he only has to wear them for an hour or two, he can make do. I can always take the top off, he reasons, setting Roux back down on her feet so she can run over to Becky. "Okay. Let me get my phone," he says, "and we'll find some jammies we all like."

"Ammies! Ammies!" Roux starts twirling around with happiness and if Seth needed any more reason to wear flannel, it's right there—in her absolute joy, the way her delight powers every movement.

Becky watches Roux dance, her smile as soft as Seth's heart feels. "I know Santa normally gets milk and cookies," she said casually. "But I think he might appreciate a cup of coffee every now and again, don't you?"

"Absolutely." Seth rests his chin on Becky's head. Maybe the matching pyjamas will become a yearly thing; maybe it will only happen once. He just knows he'll appreciate the chance to make memories and moments with the two people he loves the most—even if he's wearing flannel while he's doing it.

#combatfaerie fic #brollins fic #rollynch fic

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ecthelion-in-the-fountain · 2 years

Text

Valinor Faeron

Since everyone seems to love this bby of mine and it came to my attention i think of *after the first kinslaying* Faeron i should make this.

Taglist sorta: @eunoiaastralwings tis the baby in Valinor cuz your fic reminded me to do this yes i may of took some insparation from that an added that to canon oc Faeron | @aetherofthepen you seem to like this bby as well so

Our Lovable baby was even more lovable before the Trauma dump known as the Silmaril's came along yes blame the silmarils for what happened to Faeron because that is the harbinger of every single bit of the mans truama including the Valar Truama he sustained in middle earth.

As an Anon said Faeron give Janeway energy he does but not Pre Kinslaying i mean he technically kinda had a janeway background- DID I JUST MAKE JANEWAY IN TOLKIEN no he has ✨Truama✨ and ✨all the homo✨

Faeron was definitely the silent type especially towards Celegorm and Curufin the man had a grudge and by Eru Faeron has worse grudges by that father of his but he never really acts on them just gives the silent treatment.

Faeron and Caranthir as taken from Tara are but like two bright northern stars on each side, shining as much as the other and they do have a very strong trustable strong silent bond.

Faeron was definitely the fairest (in judgement) out of everyone from that godforsaken bloodline and much more reasonable, maybe before Fingolfin took him in mistook him as a song of Fingolfin if they did not know him well

Faeron also was much more light hearted and cracked jokes unlike post kinslayings Faeron, while Faeron did silent treatment some elves and had an almost telepathic link with his twin he was very easy to get along with if you could pull him out of the library he was always in.

Faeron was also seen as the 'assistant' of Mandos that was how Irmo got to know him and then Irmo introduced him to Valkor and then the oh shit i am so very homo Faeron came from.

Celegorm always seemed pissed off by Faeron because he most likely was everything Faeron seemed to do or say pissed him off the hunter didn't like how 'fair, perfect and ethereal' as other elves called Faeron was and then called him an asshole when they to his eyes they don't even look close they just have sorta the same hair, but then again they complemented Faeron's personallity more.

As all the prince of Noldor Faeron definitely had admirers and elleth's and ellon's fawning over him he was that one guy who a man looked at and questioned his sexuality but he was straight Aka he had the Ryan Reynolds effect.

their were many roomers spread that the silmarils weren't the only thing Fëanor made with the light from the two trees when the Silmarils were first made maybe Faeron was the Aphrodite affect and the silmarils were trying to kill him for being to much of a pretty boy (ah yes the affair of Fëanor and the Silmarils)

Faeron is defo a mothers boy i mean thats obvious from him to swearing the oath.

Valkor has had plenty of times even before the kinslayings comforting Faeron even before the elf confessed to him calming his dreams and head, the man overthinks to the point you would think his brain might explode, he gives mega Lindir Anxiety feels in Valinor.

The amount of time the ambarussa's have been threatened by Caranthir when finding Faeron's head in his lap asleep is astronomical.

Spiraling Faeron Brain: Could Caranthir calm me - Yes | No Would I have to bother Valkor - Yes | No

The man has a flowchart in his brain when it comes to that you would think as an elf he wouldn't get panic attacks especially in elf 'heaven' you would be wrong always about Mandos needs this Mandos needs that, can I even do that for Mandos, is my dad mad at me, is that just another disownment joke, AGHHHH WHY SO MANY ELLETH WANT ME BEGON, AHHHHHH FUCK I HAVE A MASSIVE CRUSH ON IRMO'S MAIAR.

poor baby is so tense all the time about doing something wrong, maybe him putting a book on a shelf and swapping it for a sword and doing the dirty work was a good thing he swapped the Panic and Anxiety for Truama.

Elrond wonders if what the Kidnap dads told him with Valinor Faeron that Lindir was secretly the reembodiment of Valinor Faeron but with the looks of Maglor the elven lord will never know, but ofcourse Lindir was in the anxious mode all the time and Faeron only was like that or worse when he spiraled which was somewhat rare for him.

Crack Idea Elves had: LINDIR IS FAERON'S SON

Irmo to elves: Darlings that man is so very homo and so very bottom he would not have children well biological children but that is what you are suggesting.

But of course Irmo never says anything though he's just best supportive Valkor dad 👍👍(and eventually best Faeron father in law)

We stan Best dad Irmo here!

#faeron #oc #lotr oc #silmarillion oc #tolkien oc #tolkien #valinor faeron #original character

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eludin-muses · 1 month

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Chat Chat: finn and niserie

"Just a minute," Finn called behind his shoulder as the bell to The Raven's Message twinkled, signaling a patron. Niserie curiously gazed all around, her hazel eyes flickering to all kinds of various herbs, tomes, and other magical products. Soon, Finn descended a staircase to meet her, of course after completing a recipe to ship. "How can I help you this evening?" he asked politely. "Are you looking for a potion, a specific ingredient? We have it all, if not I will hunt it down for you." She nodded. "Do you have something that could enhance a weapon's power? I know it sounds vague but there's a monster I've been wanting to hunt down." Finn's interest was instantly piqued-of course he'd gotten requests aplenty for something like this, however, hearing an adventurer's quest was another thing that made the job all the more worthwhile. "Yes, of course. On top of that, I also have potions for your defense in that case, and one to restore strength," he said, motioning for the elf to follow him toward a row of shelves farther in the back. Various shaped vials, bottles and flasks filled with multi-colored liquids adorned them. "They will be an extra charge if you choose to add them, though." Niserie mulled it over, but couldn't seem to make a decision, internally scolding herself-for Pete's sake she had a boyfriend who lived and breathed this stuff! Sensing her hesitation, Finn stepped forward and plucked a dark colored vial from the shelf. "This one is a buff potion. It lasts a good while, 20-30 minutes. Drink it and you'll be landing some heavy hits no matter the foe," he explained, holding it up. "It's made with the claw of a dragon and feather of a griffin among other things. Goes for 595 Jydro." Niserie took it from him to take a look, frown playing on her lips. As she was again thinking about it, Finn went to rummage through the shelves for some other choices, but he couldn't help but wonder. "What is this creature you're facing? It might give me a general idea of how to serve you." Niserie blinked, and peered up toward him. "Well, for starters, it's just a rumor. A friend of mine wants me to investigate some disturbances within Midasay Forest-" Finn stopped her almost immediately. "Midasay Forest? You are bringing a party, right? I've been there to harvest ingredients. Some of the creatures I've seen are no joke and my magic skills aren't up to par either! And that disturbance, I wouldn't put past it being what I think it is. I've read up on it. The Univaus." The silence that hung in the air confirmed everything he needed to know. Shaking his head, he turned and again went back to finding the perfect mixture for this patron--no matter how crazy she may have seemed. "I can handle it," Niserie insisted. "I'm not just some lowly elf, I've been through more you can imagine." Finn paused, arms gathered with various bottles. Whirling, he got a good look at her face. "These should work, I'll calculate the totals. Who are you? Rather, who am I making this order out to?" Placing the potions upon his workstation desk, Finn dipped a quill into some ink. "Niserie Reythana," she told him. "I'm not from here." His demeanor changed just as quick, scribbling her name onto worn paper. Now he knew. "I've heard about you. Listen, I commend your bravery and your story, but please, if you really do plan going into Midasay Forest alone-" "Nothing's going to stop me," she told him. Her tone left no argument. "If that disturbance turns out to be something that can harm somebody, I can't let it go." Finn sighed, resigning to the fact. Many times he'd come across reckless customers and he'd feared they would reap what they sowed. In the end, he'd never really know. "Very well. These potions should cover all of your bases: defense, offense, and restoration." He watched her carefully, that resolve never left her eyes as she took the bag and turned on her heel. Seems as what the fellow named Wulfric told him was right - she was determined and let nothing get in her way.

#muse: niserie reythana #muse: finn powell #i had to edit this a little to get past tumblr's apparent new character limit and i hate that... whatever i guesss #it wouldn't let me post the original version of this so yeah i guess there's a limit which sucks #anonymous asks #we've got mail. ; asks #only in eludin. ; in character

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stellisketches · 3 years

Text

MCD Headcanons I have that have nothing to do with anything

Aphmau's favorite fruit is pomegranates

Laurance is an Aries

Zenix was 17 when he got turned into a shadow knight

Kawaii~Chan is 19 in season 1

Dante loves Honey because his mother was a beekeeper.

Brendan likes cows and drinks more milk than water

Emmalyn has decked someone over spilling coffee on her book

Aphmau had no sense of modesty when she awoke. Once while it was hot she took off her shirt while farming and almost killed poor Brendan and Garroth when he came to check what was going on.

Zenix has a weird obsession with polishing his sword

Molly and Dale got married really young, and it was Molly who ended up drunkenly proposing

Emmalyn’s favorite food is noodles and mushrooms.

On numerous occasions, Laurance has gotten drunk and jumped into the swamp rivers to wrestle an alligator because someone bet five silver he wouldn’t do it.

Zane is a fashion fanatic

Janus was apart of the circus before he joined the Jury of Nine (Please read Silver on AO3 its the only other fic I’ve had the confidence in posting)

Zane is Aro Ace

Aphmau is Bisexual

Laurance is Bisexual

Garroth is still trying to figure that shit out

Garroth, Vylad, and Zane all had dancing lessons as children and were a form of punishment for when they misbehaved (jokes on Zianna, now Zane is just an asshole who can absolutely cut the fucking rug)

Sasha makes moonshine when she’s in the overworld

Shadow Knights don’t need to eat or sleep, though most do anyways (somewhat akin to alcohol, it’s a type of common indulgence)

Shadow Knights also lose their sense of sex drive

Shadow Knights don’t have a digestive system and don’t go to the bathroom- all the food they eat just burns up inside them

Their body temperatures are several degrees higher than a normal persons (around 99-103)

They have absolutely no alcohol tolerance on account of not having a working liver

I could write about Shadow Knight lore for fucking ever

Jeffory is the only jury of nine members that is actually straight

Laurance genuinely cannot remember his body count (his most conservative estimate is in the 60s)

Garroth didn’t learn about sex until he was almost nineteen

Mead, whiskey, and occasionally very sweet wine are the only types of alcohol Garroth likes. (If they were in modern day, he would exclusively get the pretty and colorful cocktails).

Vylad is really good at identifying plants and trees

Before he died, Vylad was singlehandedly running O’Khasis’ weed distribution

Garroth has a guilty pleasure of romance novels. He’s ‘borrowed’ a couple off of Emmalyn’s shelf when she wasn’t looking

Zenix has the shittiest handwriting known to man

Zane assumed his role of High Priest when he was only seventeen, after his predecessor named him his heir and suddenly died of a heart attack four days later.

Garroth’s snores are the second loudest sound known to man, only being outclassed by Aphmau’s

Brian has had to repeatedly hold Zenix back from killing him in his sleep due to that

There is a running joke in O’Khasis that the Jury of Nine is the High Priest’s harem. If any guards are found making this joke, The High Priest has them meet an unfortunate accident

This is ironic, as several of the Jury members themselves make jokes about the Jury of Nine being a harem (Most of which comes from Janus)

A juror that will remain unnamed tried to convince the others to have an orgy. It was unsuccessful on account that the unnamed juror referred to it as a ‘jorgy’

Laurance cuddles his pillow when he sleeps

Lillian gets chronic migraines

Janus was born on new year’s

Joh and Hayden were in a romantic relationship with one another

Matilda was a half elf

Since his mom is a half-elf, Levin gets a good pool of genetics and will likely be able to live up to 180 or so and will stay looking young for longer.

Geocentricity vs. Heliocentricity is still a hotly debated subject for Ru’aunian scientists

There are two moons that orbit their world, though they are always on opposite sides and switch hemispheres during the winter solstice (the only day where both moons are visible on the Ru’aunian Hemisphere.

They’re both called ‘the moon’ but Seyla is the winter moon and Stjerne is the summer moon

Only two of the jurors can naturally use magicks

Garroth’s love languages are Words of Affirmation, Physical touch, and Acts of Service

Laurance has fallen off a total of 4 roofs in his lifetime.

A girl once tried to kiss Zane and he went into a fever coma for three days afterwards

Janus is nonbinary

Modesty is more important in the west than in the east.

The guards have a blank ‘days without Dale falling in the well’ board in the guard tower. It has never gotten over 10.

Similarly, they have a jar of coins labelled ‘Door Jar’ that Garroth must put money into every time he breaks a door. It usually fills up by a month or two

Laurance is the most physically attractive character in the series

Laurance was also Garroth’s realization that he wasn’t entirely straight

Aphmau paces when she’s thinking

Zenix is terrified of Kawaii~Chan after he got his ass handed to him by a bunch of maid dolls wielding knives and sticks

Has woken up screaming from cat maid nightmares on several occasions, narrowly avoiding being murdered by Laurance

Ivy and Lillian were dating

While Irene is the main goddess of Ru’aun, worship is also extended to the other divine usually dependent of how influential the other divine might be over their day-today life (i.e, Guards ask for protection from Esmund, scholars leave offerings to Enki, etc)

Zianna is not Ru’uanian, and came from a region far away.

I am ashamed to say this is not all of them

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uselessgayshit · 2 years

Text

this was supposed to be vexleth but my multi-shipping ass couldn’t stick with just one

There was nothing familiar in his workshop, not one green thing to break up the metal strewn across every surface. Bolts, screws, barrels of that black powder that made her skin crawl. She didn’t fully understand - she never would - but she didn’t believe he did either and that’s what worried her.

“I can hear you pining, Keyleth.”

“Wha - I’m not, psssh, Im just -“ As she fumbled around from his sudden attention, her hand knocked a lens off the cabinet and it shattered against the stone floor.

“Would you please be careful, Keyleth. It’s quite expensive to make the things I do.”

“Oh… sorry Percy.”

She whisked her hand absentmindedly and the pieces shuddered back together seamlessly. She picked up the lens and placed it carefully back on the shelf.

“It’s quite unfortunate isn’t it?”

“What is? Did something happen?” As soon as the words left her lips she knew they were foolish. They had been holed up in the dark firelight of his workshop for hours. No one had spoken through the earpieces. They weren’t needed. Nothing dire had happened. It was odd to not be on high alert.

“The pining.” He flipped the protective lenses that covered his glasses up. “You pining after her while her brother pines after you.”

She covered the blush on her cheeks with magic; the small change in her visage imperceptible to Percy in the lowlight.

“He told you he loved you, admittedly at the worst possible moment - I’ve never met a half-elf with worse timing - and has now been wandering the keep gloomier than usual, annoying us all with his moping.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem, Percy. He’s been avoiding me because in the middle of battle - in a life and death situation - I didn’t declare my love back. I was more than a little preoccupied.”

He rummaged through a box. “I’m not faulting your reaction. But your dewey eyes for Vex’halia aren’t helping the matter.”

There had been a turmoil roiling in her chest since the day they came upon her in the woods. It hadn’t hit her consciously for a long time. The twins were endearing in their own very special way. They were highly abrasive with the softest of insides when you got to know them and Keyleth liked to think she did. They all liked to think they knew one another much more than they actually did. The recent endeavor into Percy’s past had blown that into perspective.

“I’m not one for prying, so feel free to tell me to ‘fuck off.’ No hard feelings.”

“Percy, I had my first kiss a couple months ago. How would I even know what love is?”

She held her breath, waiting for him to call her on the deception, but he took the almost complete truth she offered him with a hum of acknowledgement.

She had known love. She knew love. What she felt for her fellow members of Vox Machina was akin to, couldn’t really be called anything else, but love. But she also knew what her future was and though it could be a fulfilling and long life of leading the Ashari, it would never be a life that allowed a partner by her side. Whether it be Vax… or Vex.

At some point, she was going to lose everyone she had ever grown close to and she refused to make it hurt more, make it harder to watch everyone leave the world before she did, by announcing feelings that would only ever lead to devastation.

“I think love catches you by surprise. I think that’s the whole point.”

“Do you love someone, Percy? Love someone like Vax thinks he loves me.” It was said in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t something Keyleth would hold him to if he wished to retract it.

Percy paused in his work, taking an unhurried moment to mull it over. “Yes. Yes I think I do.”

“Who?”

He smiled to himself, the firelight throwing odd shadows onto his face. “That will come in time.”

“How does it feel?” Never giving much consideration to falling in love before, the last week or so, it was the only thing on her mind.

“Honestly?” He placed his tool firmly against the wood. His tinkering stopped as he answered her. “Not as life-altering as you would think.”

“She doesn’t love me back.”

“No,” he laughed and she found that it didn’t bother her. “No, Vex’halia loves three things in life. Money, bargaining and Vax. In that order.”

“You forgot Trinket,” Keyleth reminded him fondly.

“Right,” he chuckled again. “Four things. Money. That damn bear. Bargaining. And Vax.”

“Does everyone know?”

“I wouldn’t suppose to pretend I know the group’s collective thoughts.” He was twisting something in a pair of pliers. “But, I would assume most aside from Grog have noticed. Not to be rude, Keyleth, but you aren’t the subtlest of people.”

“Do you think Vax knows?”

“Of what?”

“How I feel?”

“Do you know how you feel?” He examined a long, metal cylinder that she didn’t know the purpose of.

The only thing she felt was confliction. Would Vax think he was her second choice? Would he think she was settling? Would he understand that you could be in love with more than one person at one time? He had to. She had seen the way he looked at Gilmore.

She wasn’t blind to the fact that that’s how he looked at her now

“I love him, Percy. I do. But at what cost?” There was so much she had left to accomplish. So many things she had to do before she could be free from obligation - and really, she’d never be free. Her destiny was to finish her Aramante and become the leader of the Air Ashari. Where did Vox Machina fit in that? Where would Vax fit? She knew they didn’t; no one did.

“Cost doesn’t apply to love, Keyleth.” He flicked his protective lenses back down so she knew he was almost done with the conversation. “That’s the point. You give everything. You give all of yourself. And the other person accepts it without question.”

And with that she knew whom Percy loved. Her heart twinged, only the barest amount.

#my fic #i don’t know why the spacing is so fucked up #tumblr obviously hates me #critical role #vexleth #Vaxleth #perc’halia #keyleth #vaxildan #vex’ahlia #percy de rolo #cr fanfic #critical fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #vox machina

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The First Year

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapters will have additional warning when necessary.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

//////////////////////////////////

Part I - The First Year

Hogwarts will be fun was the first thought you had when you opened the letter in your hands.

Tony, your older brother, ruffled your hair slightly as he came down into the kitchen and watched you open the mail.

"Your letter finally arrived, huh, little witch?" He joked with a smile as he sat down at the table.

"I can't wait to go!" You commented excitedly rereading the acceptance letter for the third time.

"Miss, after coffee, can we go to diagonal alley if you like?" Jarvis, your butler, asked you politely as he poured Tony's coffee making you hesitate slightly. Tony, who had his eye on you, forced a smile as he patted you on the arm.

"I'll go with you, don't worry." He assured and you nodded.

"I wish dad would come." You grumble as you sit down and Tony sighs.

" Yeah, me too." He says. "But you know he's busy, and we can't leave it to the last minute."

You mumble in agreement as you serve some sweetbreads on your plate.

Eating in silence for a few moments, you are startled slightly when Tony lets out an exclamation.

"Damn, I forgot to write back to Steve." He announces getting up and walking over to the next shelf where there were some stationery and pen.

"Your boyfriend will be upset." You tease lightly, and Tony mumbles softly without responding.

When he finishes writing the letter, he goes to the kitchen window and opens the metal, whistling loudly in a familiar rhythm. A few seconds later, Iron, his barn owl lands in front of him. Tony stroked the animal gently before dangling the letter in his paws.

" Please take this to Steve, Iron." He ordered and the animal made a noise before flying away again.

"Jarvis, I'll get ready to go." You tell the man as soon as you finish eating and head off toward the stairs.

//-//

Diagonal Alley is a noisy place.

Tony asked you to walk beside him, but you stopped walking at the first Quidditch shop you spotted, and he had to turn back halfway when he noticed you were no longer beside him.

"Don't do that." He warned, mildly annoyed, but you glazed over at the exposed broom in front of you, and he let out a chuckle when he noticed. "Come on, Y/N, you already have a broom."

"But that's no ordinary broom." You retorted with an impressed look. "It's a Nimbus 2000, it's the fastest broom there is."

"You have the 99, I don't understand the difference." He retorted with his hands in his pockets and you shrugged.

"Tony, can we buy it?" You asked pleadingly, making your brother laugh slightly.

"Let's buy your stuff first please" He retorted with a smile and you grumbled but accepted the arm he offered for you to hang on. Jarvis walked behind you with a keen eye on your surroundings.

After you had bought the vast majority of your supplies and replenished your stocks of potions items for Tony, Jarvis took you to Blossoms and Blurbs to buy this year's books.

"Good morning! Hogwarts, third and first year books, please." You heard Jarvis tell the clerk who approached you three. Tony nodded his head signaling you to feel free to walk around the bookstore in the meantime, and that is exactly what you did.

You found many interesting books in the place as you walked among the shelves. One in particular caught your attention, as there seemed to be little miniature magical creatures trying to jump out of the cover, and you grabbed it on a table, watching the item carefully.

You smiled when an ink dragon jumped into your hand, moving your head as if you were looking around. Distracted by the book, you let out a low exclamation when someone bumped into you.

"Sorry, kid." You heard a female voice speak in a humorous tone. It is a girl taller than you, short red hair. "I ended up tripping over some of those runner books."

"It's okay." You said with a smile. The girl looked at the one book in your hands for a moment.

"Do you enjoy creature tracts?" She asks casually as she reaches for a book on the bookshelf beside her.

"I don't know yet." You say and she looks at you slightly confused, "I never studied."

"Ah, first-year." She understands and you nod in agreement. "Hogwarts too or some other?"

"Hogwarts."

"Cool, I guess I'll see you there then." She says. "I'm from Slytherin, third year."

You let out a surprised exclamation.

"Maybe you know my brother." You say and the girl takes her gaze from the books in her hand she was checking to look at you with her eyebrow raised in curiosity. "His name is Tony Stark, he's also from your house."

The girl lets out a short laugh.

"I can't believe you are Stark's sister." She says. "We're not exactly friends, but I've seen him around the dorm several times. And your brother is a pain in the ass, by the way."

You laugh lightly, agreeing.

"I am Natasha Romanoff." She introduces herself next, balancing her books in one hand to greet you. You introduce yourself with a gentle smile. "Good luck with your books." She says before turning away.

You think it's cool that you already know someone besides your brother before you start at Hogwarts.

//-//

Buying your wand is a rather strange experience.

Mr. Ollivander has a glint in his eye as if he knows everyone's secrets, and seems to disappear and reappear in his store very easily.

Tony sat on one of the stools while he waited for you, and Jarvis went to buy something for you two to eat.

After trying almost five wands, and exploding a glass vase when he tried the last one, Mr. Ollivander sighed.

"Sorry, I don't know why it's not working." You asked feeling nervous, but he smiled.

"Don't worry, dear." He said. "Difficult customers are so much fun."

He walked back in between the shelves after that, and then reappeared with three new packages.

"I remember when Howard Stark bought his wand." He told smiling nostalgically as you opened one of the packages, a black wand in front of you. "Phoenix, Cedar, slightly flexible."

"Dad has changed wands thousands of times." Added Tony wryly, but Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind.

The wand you tested let out a faint spark when you tried to cast a simple conjuration spell, and the man in front of you was quick to take it from your hand the next second.

"I think I have a better idea." He announced turning around, and then climbed the ladder supported by the wall, picking up a package at the top.

"Try this one dear." He asked handing you a dark wand, the wood was shiny, a color you didn't know exactly what it was, but it was beautiful.

When you grabbed the item, you felt a tingling sensation spread throughout your hand, and the wand vibrated slightly for a few seconds, causing Ollivander to let out a noise of excitement.

"You see, I knew I would find an owner for you dear." He spoke and you realized that he was speaking with the item in your hands. Soon he turned his gaze back to you. "Take good care of this one, will you, it was quite difficult to get dark elf blood for the core."

"R-right." You said with a slight frown, not quite sure what to make of that information.

Tony laughed lightly at the interaction, he should be used to Mr. Ollivander's eccentric manner by now, since he kept breaking his wands just like your father and often returned to the store to get a new one.

After paying, you and Tony met Jarvis outside, he was carrying some sweet rolls.

//-//

July ended too quickly for your happiness. You were very eager to go to school.

You spent most of August at home, playing quidditch with Tony in the backyard, curiously reading the magic books you bought, and trying to peek into the basement where your father worked, but he always caught you looking and smiled, asking you to go back to your room.

You would like your father to take you to the station, but he said he had a magic conference in September, and would be traveling for the next few weeks. Tony was upset, but he put his arm around your shoulders and asked you to hurry to get your bags.

When you finally got to the station, you were slightly nervous about going through a wall, but Tony laughed, and showed you how to go first.

You hugged Jarvis good-bye before following your brother along the way.

Tony dragged you across the train cars to the first empty cabin he could find. He commented that it would be nice if you made your own friends, but that he would like you to sit with him.

So here you were, sitting with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, Tony's best friends since the first year. The boys smiled encouragingly at you. You already knew them, because Tony kept inviting them to spend holidays with him all the time.

"Hey, Y/N, how was your vacation?" Steve asked as soon as you sat down next to him. You shrugged, saying that it was nice, but that you were looking forward to attending Hogwarts.

Soon the boys started talking about what they were excited about next year, and you did your best to keep up, not knowing exactly who the people they mentioned were, or knowing the classes they talked about.

Many minutes after the train was moving, a girl opened the cabin door.

"Hey, strangers." She greeted with a smile.

"Hi Peggy." Steve said with a smile, you frowned at the slight scowl on your brother's face.

"They're calling for us in the prefects compartment, Steve." She warned and Steve nodded, getting up. He and the girl then left, and Tony crossed his arms.

"What's wrong?" You asked noticing his posture and the way Bucky had a little smile on his face.

"It's nothing." Grumbled your brother, and as he turned his face to the window, Bucky who was standing in front of you, whispered to you.

"Tony thinks Peggy likes Steve." He recounted. "So he doesn't like Peggy very much."

"Oh." You said, pretending to understand the whole plot. It didn't make much sense to you because everyone couldn't be friends, but you figured that when you were your brother's age you would understand better.

//-//

The Hogwarts Express only stopped at night.

Properly uniformed, you smiled when your brother patted you on the shoulder, telling you that he would meet you at the castle, since the first-year students had to go by boat.

Your hands were sweating a little as you walked up to the extraordinarily tall man who introduced himself as Drax.

"First-year students, please, six in each boat." He shouted to the crowd, and the students moved closer together.

You sat in one of the first little boats, five other children you didn't know surrounding you.

"I'm so excited." A blonde girl commented cheerfully, waving her hands. She smiled at everyone as she introduced herself as "Harley Quinn".

"I bet you''ll blow something up once we get there, Harley" Added a redheaded girl sitting next to you, you could tell by her tone that they were probably friends. The blonde, Harley, laughed.

"Shut up, Ivy." She said, and then Drax was back, climbing into one of the boats beside her. He checked the boats one last time, then waved his hand, and the transports began to move.

Everyone, including you, let out a chorus of excitement.

When you noticed the castle, you smiled. It was huge, and just as amazing as Tony used to tell you.

"Wow, it must be amazing to fly over all that." You quietly observed, and the girl next to you turned her head in your direction, smiling.

"Do you like flying?" She asked, and you nodded. She looked at you for a moment and then held out her hand to greet you. "I am Diana. Diana Prince."

"Hi, Diana." You said introducing yourself next. "Do you also like to fly?"

"I love it." She says. "I hope i can make it onto the team."

"I don't know if the first-years have any chance, but I'll be rooting for you." You assure, and Diana smiles.

When the boats stop in the harbor, the students are all excited to get out and see the castle, but Drax's almost intimidating posture makes everyone properly behaved.

He leads the crowd to the staircase, and then there is a lobby. There is a woman waiting for everyone, her strict posture makes you think she is someone you wouldn't want to upset.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She announces. "I am Professor Okoye, head of Gryffindor house."

The students exchange burbles next, but the teacher's gaze shuts them up almost immediately.

"As long as you are here, your houses will be like your families." She continues. "Your triumphs will earn you points, and if you break any rules, those points will be taken away."

She says, casting a disapproving glance at one of the students in the corner, who giggled. "In a few moments we will begin the sorting hat ceremony."

The teacher then turns around, heading toward a large bronze door, and talking to someone on the other side. You hear someone laughing near you, and you turn your head to the side in curiosity.

It was a blond boy, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as he balanced one of the gold cups he picked up from the surrounding shelves. You thought he would be in trouble if he knocked it over, and this seemed to be exactly the same opinion as the girl next to him, who was looking at him disapprovingly.

"Stop being an idiot, Peter, put that back." She complained and he laughed, shrugging.

"Gamora, you're a spoilsport you know." He retorted and when he put the cup back, it spun and fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. The boy turned pale as Teacher Okoye turned her head in his direction.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to them.

"Reparo" You said drawing your wand as you pointed at the broken object. Some children let out impressed exclamations when they saw the bowl form again, but you just put your wand away in shame. It was no big deal. Okoye caught up with the three of you next, looking reproachfully at the boy.

"I expect better behavior during the ceremony, sir..."

"Quill"

"Mister Quill." She completed and took one last look at the boy that had with his head down before turning back to the front of the crowd again, waving for the students to follow her.

"Hey, that was pretty cool." Peter commented beside you as you walked. You shrugged, focusing on the path.

//-//

The sorting hat was something exceptional.

Tony never told you how the choice was made, and you knew it was only to annoy you. He had sometimes joked that the students faced each other in a duel, and even though you told him to shut up, you had a look at his spell book before you came.

The actual ceremony was much simpler, however.

When it was your turn to climb onto the small stool, you bit your lips, hoping that everything would go smoothly. Just as the old cloth of the hat fell over your eyes, blocking your view of the rest of the hall, you heard a voice in your head.

" Hello, dear, no need to be so nervous." Announced the hat gently. "You are a curious little thing, I see."

"Is that a good thing?" You thought, and the hat chuckled lightly.

"It might be." He said mysteriously. "Interesting what I see here. Very interesting."

"What are you seeing?"

"Your memories, dear."

"Oh." You thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. That seemed like an intrusion of your privacy. The hat laughed again, and you remembered that he was on your head.

"You're hard to sort out." He says, and you squeeze the stool. "Don't worry, I'm not going to send you home, that's not how it works."

"Oh, right."

Hat was silent a few moments.

"I see courage in your heart." He says and you try to remember the characteristics of the houses. "But that courage is well forged with your loyalty."

You swallow dryly, feeling your anxiety rising. This was definitely taking much longer than the people who went before you.

"You are as smart as your father and brother, both members of the Slytherin house." He says. "There's a willingness not to let them down."

"That's personal." You grumble feeling your cheeks flush, but the hat doesn't care to apologize for bringing up your insecurities.

"Ah, this is interesting here. A pure kindness, yet pruned in your origins of shallow paternal affection”.

You frown, not understanding what he is saying.

"You are quite adaptable child, it has always been one of your best virtues." The hat remarks, and you get the impression that the next part is only said for you. "Tell me, where would you like to stay?"

"Isn't that your job?" You retort in thought, and hear him laugh again. You rush to correct yourself, not wanting to be rude. "Sorry, hat. I don't really know. I'd like to stay where I fit in best."

"You would do well anywhere." He retorts, and you frown. "And that's pretty impressive, you know. I haven't met another hatstall since the last century."

You swallow dryly, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'll work hard, sir." You tell him. "I don't want people to think I'm a special witch just because of my family. That's something I'm sure, I don't know if it helps you choose."

Hat lets out a sigh of relief.

"Actually, that's exactly what I needed."

It takes a moment for him to speak again, and when he does, you feel your whole body shake.

"Hufflepuff"

//-//

Steve Rogers is the head boy of Hufflepuff and he celebrates excitedly when you sit down at the table next to him.

"That's so cool" He comments. "I'll be able to tease Tony all year about it."

After that, director Agatha Harkness, made the announcement of the beginning of the year. If her goal was to scare the students, she succeeded when she talked about the deadly dangers surrounding the forbidden forest and the punishments for the disobedient. Professor Strange interrupted her speech as he cleared his throat, awkwardly waving for Agatha to stop saying such things, and the woman giggled.

Dinner is delicious, and then you are following the crowd of students into the communal rooms.

"Butterbeer" Steve said to the portrait on the wall, and you blinked in surprise when the painting moved to the side, a door behind.

You sighed when you realized how cozy the Hufflepuff's common room was.

"Everyone please come in." Asked Steve in the center of the room, waving to the students who stayed behind. When everyone was around him, he smiled. "The dorms are divided by gender, but you can sleep wherever you feel most comfortable. I will only suggest that none of you try to sleep with the seventh graders, because they are scary." Steve joked making the crowd laugh lightly. "We have a supply of food in those lockers, just in case you feel like having a snack in the early morning, outside of the permitted hours for walking around the castle." He continues and stands thoughtfully for a few moments. "Most of the things you need to know are on the bulletin board on that wall, and you can also ask me anything you want. Your belongings have already been taken to the free beds, but if you want any help, you can organize among yourselves or just come talk to me."

Steve smiled as the crowd moved. You headed in the direction where he said the rooms were.

//-//

You let out a surprised exclamation as something landed on your head.

"Damn, sorry!" Asked an asian girl approaching you, and pulling the small being out of your hair as you entered the room. "Groot, I told you to behave yourself."

"I am groot." Grumbled the little creature. You looked at it wide-eyed, impressed.

"Wow, is that a tree?"

The girl laughed, putting the small creature sitting on her shoulder, sitting on the bed next to the one you identified as having your things.

"Yes and no." She said. "I found Groot in my garden over the vacations, and well, I don't know what he is exactly. But I think he was trying to make my mother's plants grow."

"He's really cute." You commented approaching with your finger extended. Groot smiled, accepting your touch.

"I am Mantis." Says the girl next and you smile at her as you introduce yourself. "We're going to be roommates."

"Yes, and so is Groot." You add as you take off your cape to throw on the bed that would be yours.

After eating so well at dinner, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep.

You dream of glowing green eyes and a red light, but you don't recognize them or understand what it means, and when you wake up, you no longer remember.

//-//

Two weeks since you started at Hogwarts, you are used to how eccentric everything can be.

The classes weren't as difficult as you imagined, but that's probably because you've had contact with magic all your life and always had an easy time learning things. All the teachers were unique in their own way.

Professor Rocket, for example, taught Transfiguration and spent almost the entire period transfigured into a raccoon, even outside of class hours. He was temperamental and got irritated very easily when students talked too much in his class, so it was not recommended to do so.

There was also Professor Fury, who had an eye patch as a mandatory piece in his daily costume, and all the students spent more time trying to guess how this happened, than listening to his explanations of defense spells against the dark art.

Your astronomy class on Wednesdays was taught by Professor Odin, who like to claim that he was a descendant of the Olympian gods, but no one believed him. He was also the father of two of your classmates, Thor and Loki Odinson, who were the exact opposite of each other. While Thor was warm and friendly, Loki was cold and reclusive, plus the former was from Gryffindor and the other from Slytherin. Surprisingly, you liked them both.

You ended up meeting the head of your house only on the second day.

Professor Heimdall taught Divination, so you wouldn't have any classes with him until the third year.You bumped into him when you were late for fifth period and had to run to the common room for your Potions books, and almost fell on the floor when you turned the corner without looking and the professor was there. He prevented you from falling with a wave of his wand, smiling gently.

" Forgive me." You said clumsily, feeling slightly intimidated by the yellow irises as the magic set you on your feet properly, as well as catching your books in the air and placing them in your hands again.

"Be careful with the castle corridors, Miss Stark." Said the man, and for some reason, you thought he wasn't just talking about this little incident.

"Professor Heimdall, let's talk in a private place, please." Asked Professor Okoye, who was standing at his side, she looked at you with a certain disapproval, and you couldn't tell whether it was because of your intrusion, or the fact that your tie was hanging loosely around your neck, in addition to the open buttons on your shirt.

After this little incident, you asked Steve who Professor Heimdall was, and he explained that he was the head of Hufflepuff, and might seem intimidating at first glance, but that he was very kind.

But so far, the professor who has intrigued you the most was Professor Erik Lehnsherr, who taught Potions. He didn't say anything that wasn't related to the subject, didn't make any comments about behavior or events at school. And he had such a stern and mysterious look in his eyes that no student had the courage to ask him anything. You heard Peter Quill make a bet with Thor Odinson that Professor Erik was unable to smile because of some particular sorcery, but you thought it best not to laugh, especially since Mr. Lehnsherr was looking at your direction.

When you had your first Potions period with Slytherin, after herbology professor T'Challa needed to reschedule classes for an appointment, you were surprised to discover that professor Lehnsherr had children.

Gamora ended up on the same bench as you, and she was talking to her sister, Nebula, about an incident that occurred in their dormitory.

"Clearly, the professors' children have an easy time getting away with punishment." Nebula bitterly remarked, and you frowned in confusion.

"I don't think it was the girl's fault." Gamora retorted as she put the ingredients into her cauldron. She looked at you quickly, realizing that you were listening to the conversation, but she didn't scold you, she just kept stirring the mixture.

"What happened?" you asked next, and Nebula looked at you with mild irritation. She seemed about to tell you to mind your own business, but Gamora smiled, moving closer to whisper to you.

"A girl lost her temper in the Slytherin dorm bathrooms last night." She told. "She's a second year, her name is Wanda Maximoff. She and her brother are Professor Lehnsherr's kids, and everyone is saying that she didn't go to detention because of it."

Your jaw dropped, impressed.

"I can't believe Magneto has children." You said making Gamora and Nebula laugh at the nickname. Last week you found out that the school had been calling Erik that since he stopped the hall chandelier from falling on the teachers' desk two years ago when he used non-verbal magic to attract the metal, and everyone started calling him that behind his back. Tony told you and you liked the story.

"I know right, he seems so self-contained." Gamora remarked looking back briefly. Professor Erik was focused on his own potions book.

"That noisy kid from Gryffindor said he's married." Nebula added next and Gamora laughed lightly.

"Peter Quill?"

"Yes."

"Wow, that's surprising." Says the girl. You both return to stirring your cauldrons in silence after that little conversation.

When you have finished your mixing, Professor Erik gives Hufflepuff five points for your good work, and you smile with red cheeks.

"You're nice." Nebula suddenly said beside you as you were leaving the room. Gamora stood next to her. "Do you want to walk around with us?"

"We're already walking." You joked and Gamora laughed unlike her sister who grimaced.

"Yep, definitely cool." She added. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"

"At your table or mine?"

Gamora and Nebula exchanged glances.

"I'm not sitting with Hufflepuff." Nebula declared and you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"You know I'm from Hufflepuff, right?"

"I'm reconsidering the invitation." She retorted and you frowned, but Gamora smiled at you.

"Will you sit with us, please?"

You sighed, nodding in agreement. You could talk to Tony after all.

//-//

Lunch at the Slytherin table became an everyday thing after that day. It took two weeks for Mantis to start joining you, and then you realized that you had a small group of friends now.

At Christmas, neither you nor Tony came home, because your father was working and you didn't want to be alone in the Stark mansion. You ended up turning down Tony's invitation to spend Christmas with Steve Rogers and his family, because you weren't really friends with Steve. Tony insisted, not wanting you to be alone, but you assured him that you would be fine in the company of your friends, and that he needn't worry.

On Christmas morning, Groot woke you up by jumping on your face. You laughed lightly because he was so small that he was like a tickle, and stood up as you returned the little creature to Mantis' bedside table.

A few hours later, as you were opening your presents at the Slytherin table along with Gamora, Nebula, Mantis, and Peter Quill, who had also stayed at Hogwarts for the end of the year, you let out an excited exclamation.

"I can' believe it." You spoke, opening the package in front of you. It was a large box, it was bewitched and only revealed the actual wrapping once you tore the paper off. It was actually a broom.

"Wow, that's cool." Peter remarked as he looked at your present.

That's how you ended up in the middle of the snow, testing your new broom while your friends cheered and celebrated below you.

"Are you sure you can fly?" You asked Peter as soon as he asked you if he could ride. He shrugged, smiling.

You and the girls watched as he controlled the broom for a few feet above the ground, and then he overspeeded it and sped away.

You all ran into his direction, while the broom seemed almost annoyed at his lack of control, and knocked him into a tree. Peter fell between the branches, onto someone who was resting under it.

When you all reached him, you frowned when there was a boy pushing Quill.

"Watch it, dude!" Warned the boy, but before you could say anything, Gamora was already stepping forward, wand in hand.

"It was just an accident." She said and the boy looked at her surprised with her wand outstretched. He crossed his arms however, not looking scared.

"Oh, you're going to spell me now, are you?" He teased.

"Piss off, Maximoff." Warned Nebula next, taking a step beside her sister. So this was Pietro Maximoff. You figured that confidence should come from being the son of one of the professors.

"I suggest you leave my brother alone." Warned a voice behind you. You turned next, only to catch sight of a girl with brown hair, green eyes that glittered with anger.

Gamora clenched her jaw, and Nebula drew her own wand toward the girl, who also had her wand in her hands.

You sighed, raising your hands as you stood in the line of fire.

"Would everyone please calm down?" You asked. "It was just a misunderstanding, and the broom is mine anyway, no need to fight about it."

It takes a moment, but Gamora puts down her wand, and everyone follows her after that. She has an insinuating smile on her face.

"You really are a Hufflepuff, aren't you Stark?" She teases, and you laugh sheepishly, putting your hands in your pockets. "Come on Quill."

Gamora warns and the boy shoots Pietro an ugly look as he leaves. You accept your broom that he hands to you, and turn around, your gaze meeting that of the girl who is supposed to be Wanda Maximoff for a moment. You feel your face heat up at the intensity of the angry look, and you look away, following your friends.

//-//

The months went by quickly as the rest of the school year passed. You managed to do very well on the exams, and didn't get involved in any near-fights again.

When the year ended and the Hufflepuff didn't win the House Cup, you thought you should have been more upset, but you didn't mind having Gamora and Nebula celebrating beside you, laughing and hugging you excitedly.

You also didn't understand why you felt your stomach turn when you caught Wanda Maximoff smiling amidst the Slytherin celebration when you looked around.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandaxyn #wanda maximoff x yn #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy #marvel imagines #harry potter au #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader

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entishramblings · 4 years

Text

The Restricted Section [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: hey guys! sO I ended up getting like super into this one-shot and it got a little off track but I feel as if it still matches up to the request! Also I do lowkey mention some “first age lore” but I pulled it out of my ass.....just go with it tho it’s fanfiction lol

Request: Anon — I've been seeing your AMAZING writing pop up on my dash and I love it!!!! If you're not too busy (and no pressure at all to write this in a timely manner), could you possibly write a short one-shot of Legolas' reaction to unexpectedly finding someone sketching him? Bonus points if the sketch is really good, and EXTRA bonus points (and digital cookies!!) if he secretly has a crush on the person sketching? Again, no pressure!!!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Greenwood’s library archivist. Legolas comes to do some research. goddamn why does this summary sound dirty??

Word Count: 2,840

Warnings: none

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

Being Greenwood’s Archivist for the thousands upon thousands of treasured papers, scrolls, and books did have its perks one could say. (Y/N) not only wanted to be immersed in the secrets and stories of the world, but she was required to. She spent much of her time reading and cataloguing—not that she minded considering the knowledge she had obtained was vast and fruitful. Furthermore, she was basically permitted to do whatever she wished given that she only had to give reports to the King every couple of weeks. This left her with much appreciated free time.

Currently, the Greenwood castle was hushed as every elf was sound asleep, basking in their own dreams and memories, well...almost every elf. (Y/N) was wide awake. Her favorite time of the solar cycle was the silent hours of the night; because, here in the darkness of the sky, there was nothing more enticing than being alone in the vast silence of written secrets—especially when no one was around to catch you sneaking a peek in the restricted section.

(Y/N)’s preferred spot in the library was a very specific little nook for a handful of reasons. First of all, it was lined with tall shelves filled with different volumes and ledgers that created a private and secluded feeling. Furthermore, the lucky position of these paper-filled towers allowed for a clear eye-line to the main area of the library—an eye-line that could not be seen from outside the special little cranny. This, of course, was perfect for handling prohibited materials. Lastly, she was adjacent to a large stone fireplace where light and warmth were compelled to pour into her form. (Y/N) appreciated this, especially during the coldness of the winter months.

So here Greenwood’s Archivist sat, curled into a dark cushioned armchair within a shrouded crevice of the Library, sketching the forbidden monsters from first age lore.

The faint scrapping sound of charcoal against yellowing paper faded into the crackling of the flames while (Y/N) skillfully manipulated the material in her small, leather-bound, sketchbook. Every so often, she would pause to take a sip from the tea cup that she placed on one of bookshelves. The flavor of the warm liquid melded into the woman’s mouth; the taste of ginger and cloves folded around her tongue and initiated a warm sensation throughout her body. She really did feel at peace in this moment, cloaked in the secrets of the night.

However, that tranquility was reshaped into alarm at the sound of the large wooden doors creaking open. (Y/N) stopped her sketching and cautiously peeked through the shelves. Her lips parted and her brows furrowed when her eyes rested on the intruder.

What could the Prince of Greenwood want from the library at this hour?

(Y/N)’s eyes widened when yet another thought crossed her mind.

What would the Prince of Greenwood do if he saw a book—a restricted book—in her grasp?

Quietly, the archivist tucked the dusty green volume under the armchair and turned her sketchbook to an unmarked page. But, before she started sketching something new, her curiousness compelled her to watch the Prince.

(Y/N) smiled softly as Legolas’s calloused hand gently stroked the leather spins of every book as he strolled through the aisles. His brilliant blue eyes wandered across each title, clearly searching for something. His dark brows furrowed when he reached the end of the shelf, apparently not finding what he had been looking for. The Prince continued weaving his way between stacks of books until he was directly on the other side of (Y/N)’s shelf.

The young woman held her breath as her heart pounded.

What if he caught her in here?

She inwardly chided herself. Why would she—the archivist—get in trouble for being in the library? This was her domain, her job. Her anxieties were completely unrational.

(Y/N)’s frantic thoughts froze when one of the books began to slide away.

Still unaware of her presence, Legolas opened it to read the text on the first page. It seemed that he was content with his selection for he turned on his heal. The Prince made his was to the center of the library and sat down at one of the tables that was lit with candlelight.

After a couple moments, (Y/N) quietly stood up and walked towards the shelf. She laid her hand on the now spacious gap. The young woman frowned. He had taken a book on forestry—the sickness index. Was there something going on within the trees of her home?

Deciding to push her concerns aside, for now that is, she snuggled back into the comfort of the armchair.

From her position she was able to see the elvish prince clearly.

A little grin stretched across (Y/N)’s lips. She picked up her charcoal once more and began to sketch the outline of his form. As time went on, she shaded in the curves of his jaw, the bend of his lip, and the scowl upon his brow. It was coming together quite nicely.

She did not know how much time had past, but when she looked up from her sketch Legolas was gone. (Y/N) tilted her head slightly in confusion.

She was just looking at him.

He wouldn’t leave a burning candle and opened book unattended, would he?

The sound of paper-filled leather sliding from the shelf behind her made the archivist turn quickly. The person on the other side had sensed her movement and peaked through the hole where the book had previously rested.

“My apologies, Archivist (Y/N). I knew not that you were here.”

The young woman stuttered out a response, “Oh um, it is alright, My Prince. I....I...was just—

A smirk pulled at his pink lips when his gaze landed on her open sketchbook. “Is that me?” He questioned.

(Y/N) cheeks began to heat as she slammed the sketchbook closed, “No.”

He raised an eyebrow before walking around the tower of books that was between them.

When he entered the tiny nook he looked around at her set up—stacks of many books and ledgers piled high upon the floor, a thick blanket dangling off the armchair, and a hot cup of tea upon one of the shelves.

“I almost forgot about this space. It’s quite cozy with the fire, is it not?” He said.

Legolas made his was towards her and gently held out his hand. Nodding at the leather-bound sketchbook, he spoke, “May I?”

She couldn’t exactly refuse the Prince, now could she?

Wordlessly she passed it to him.

Ever so carefully he began to flip through the pages—birds, horses, forestry, flowers, creeks, pillars, stones, and, of course, people. There were a handful of sketches of elves that he recognized as maids and servants—likely her friends, he guessed. Additionally, there was a fair amount of pictures of the guards and even one of his father. The coroner of his lip pulled upwards again when he found one of himself, and another, and another. His expression then changed to surprised amusement at what looked to be a demon. Strange. He shot her a playful look and by her reaction he was sure she knew which sketch he was looking at. Legolas continued studying the charcoal art pieces until he turned to last marked page—to the one she had just completed: him.

“These are quite good, (Y/N). Have you ever considered abandoning the library for art?”

“Well, no. It is just a hobby of mine, I suppose.”

He nodded and handed the sketchbook back to her, “And the demon?”

“Ahh yes....um, well....”

She glanced down at the floor as she stuttered. Anxiety flashed across her eyes at the sight of the corner of the green volume peaking out. She kicked it under the chair quickly.

However, her action did not escape the observation of the Prince. Yet again, he raised a brow.

Legolas knelt down and tugged the book out. He read the title aloud, “First Age Index, Volume IV. Morgoth’s Experimentation.” A deep chuckle escaped Legolas’s chest, which of course was not the reaction (Y/N) had been expecting. The Prince spoke again, clearly entertained by the situation. “Let me guess—from the restricted section.”

“Of course not!”

Legolas stifled a laugh. “(Y/N)?”

“Hmm?” She responded while avoiding his gaze.

“You are a terrible liar.”

The young woman looked up at him, “I—I am not!”

Legolas rolled his eyes. However, the playful expression faltered and his face instantly melted into what looked to be a sudden realization.

He swiftly stood up and tapped his palm against the cover of the book. “Does the restricted section have lore on earth sickness and forest disease from the first and second age?”

“I—erm...I haven’t been in the restricted section, My Lord,” she stammered.

He shook his head, “Again, (Y/N). You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed in defeat before speaking reluctantly, “It does.”

“Take me to it.”

The Archivist led him towards the gated shadow-ridden corridor and stood still.

Legolas offered her a sideways glance.

She sighed; now her days of browsing the forbidden knowledge were over.

(Y/N) pressed her finger against the lock and slammed a closed fist on the latch. It instantly creaked open.

The Prince’s eyes shown with amusement but she just shrugged and stepped through the gate.

He was enjoying this way too much.

They walked into the circular room; light poured in from a high window, showing the dust dancing through the stale air. (Y/N) led him straight to the section he had requested. She then began to pull out books, ledgers, and scrolls; placing them in Legolas’s arms until they were piled high to his chin.

The two then exited the restricted section and (Y/N) locked up the gate once more.

Legolas then followed the young elven woman towards the table he had previous occupied. The Prince carefully set the overflowing stack of knowledge down. He opened one of the books and skimmed the beginning index before speaking.

“Ada (father) did not believe me when I said something has been stirring in our forest. My senses pick up a darkness nearing for the trees have gone silent and the animals run west. Yet, the insects increase—specifically the spiders.”

She frowned.

Interesting. Interesting indeed.

The archivist rocked on her heals for a moment, contemplating asking the question that persisted in her mind. “So, does this mean I am not in trouble for reading the restricted section?”

Legolas shrugged, “What Ada (father) doesn’t know, can’t make him angry. Besides, this is too important.”

(Y/N) hopped up onto the table and sat with her legs dangling over the edge. She grabbed a book from the pile and began reading.

What was making their forest sick?

.....

Legolas and many members of the guard had just arrived back in Greenwood after patrolling the east end of the forest. The Prince sat in the armory ridding himself of the countless weapons that clung to his body. He let his thoughts wander as he did so.

Two months had past since he had come across (Y/N) sketching in the library; and ever since, the two elves had met every night—well every night that Legolas was not on patrol. They had moved from researching at the table to scrutinizing in the comfort of (Y/N)’s favorite crevice of the library. The archivist sat in her leather armchair while the prince rested on the floor, leaning against a bookcase. The space was quite cramped, but he didn’t mind. Besides, it allowed him to study (Y/N) as she sketched and read. He would be lying if he said his heart did not yearn for her.

Additionally, the formality of titles between them was left behind as the two had become quite close. Legolas appreciated this; often many treated him differently because of his royalty, but not (Y/N). Furthermore, no longer was she concerned about the repercussions of reading material from the restricted section. Besides, if Thranduil somehow found out and was to punish her for it, he would have to punish his son.

“Prince Legolas!”

He looked up as his name was called. Legolas offered a warm smile to the guard who spoke. “Meludir, I trust patrol went well for you?”

The dark hair ellon nodded in response. “Are you going to the library after this?”

Legolas shrugged, “Perhaps.”

A light laugh fell from Meludir’s lips, “To see (Y/N)?”

The Prince’s brows furrowed. “Well, she is helping me with some research.”

Meludir smirked, “Research hmm? You are aware there has been some whispers flying around?”

Legolas tilted his head in confusion.

“Well, you spend much time with her. Enough to end up in her sketchbook—on multiple pages.”

The blonde elf bit back a smile. Of course Legolas was aware that during their research (Y/N) would put down the scrolls and ledgers and pick up charcoal and paper; and, quite frankly, he did not mind. But he was unaware of how Meludir knew if this so he opted to ask. “How do you know of her sketches?”

Meludir grinned, “I may have stumbled across it in the library very late one night.” He paused, “You can imagine my surprise when I went to find light reading material but came across the Prince and the Archivist throwing books at each other’s heads.”

Legolas looked down at his dirt ridden boots to hide the smiled that surfaced from that memory.

This of course did not escape Meludir’s gaze. The young ellon chuckled at his superior’s behavior and clapped him on the shoulder. “Best you head over there then.”

.....

The sun had set and the moon had taken its place. Legolas strutted into the library after he had washed up and changed into fresh clothes. He quickly made his way to the little nook filled with all their research.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned when he came to an empty space.

“Over here!”

He whipped his head around to see the young archivist thirty feet up a ladder; she was reaching for a book that rested near the rafters.

She called out to him again, “Come catch this!”

He walked towards her until he stood at the foot of the ladder. (Y/N) then let the heavy book fall through the still air; it landed perfectly in the prince’s waiting hands.

The archivist grasped onto two more books before gracefully climbing down. “Come on then, we must get reading. The sun won’t stop rising for us.”

She plopped down in her armchair and Legolas sat in his usual spot across from her. After a couple hours of endless reading and research, (Y/N) gasped.

“Legolas! I have found it!”

His head shot up, “What?”

“The—the sickness...the darkness. What you have described to me is exactly what a scribe wrote in an old Quenya dialect: Telerin. I’ve been translating it.” She stated as she moved the position of one of the three books in her lap. “It says it right here. Before the rise of Sauron.....animals fleeing, insect population stirring, trees going silent—“ (Y/N) stood up in excitement. “I found it, Legolas! I found it!”

The Prince leapt to his feet. Full of emotion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her form up. He spun around quickly as little laughs left the woman’s lips.

Legolas set her down, but did not remove his arms from around her waist. “After all this time of researching....you—you did it!” He paused, “You are very brilliant, you know that (Y/N)?”

She shrugged, “Well, I don’t—“

He interrupted her, “You are, (Y/N). You are. You know this library as I know the woods. You were able to make connections between books and scrolls that I never would have seen. You were able to analyze data and translate languages with no trouble. You are incredibly intelligent....and I admire that.”

The young woman’s eyes drew to the floor and her cheeks heated.

“(Y/N)...” Legolas whispered while cupping her chin.

He lifted her face and the air seemed to still between them as their eyes locked.

“Legolas, I—“ She whispered.

He did not let her finish. He gently pressed his pink lips against hers and (Y/N) instantly responded. The earthy smell of dirt and trees filled the archivist’s nostrils as paper and fire filled the prince’s. It was almost hypnotic. As the two let their mouths dance against each other slowly, reality melted away. Legolas pulled her form closer and she obliged. (Y/N) snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his loose blonde locks. The Prince let his hands wander down her back and across her hips, feeling every curve. The young woman could not help but feel a wave of warmth wash over her for she had craved this. The kiss was calm, gentle, and full of innocent love.

When the two reluctantly pulled away for air, (Y/N) rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“Do you know what this means, Legolas?” She whispered.

“You heart craves mine as much as mine craves yours?” He responded quietly.

“Well yes, but no....I meant about the forest. The sickness—it’s darkness. Sauron’s darkness. He is returning.”

.......

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