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#… honestly I’m not sure how it’s spelled it’s been far too long since I’ve typed out this ship’s tag 😮‍💨
cassandrapentayaaaaas · 2 months
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Cassandra/Varric, respite, hopeful tone?
“Respite.” It’s not a word that features in many of his novels. There’s enough to get done in two hundred pages without his lead stopping for a cup of tea by the fire, and his publisher didn’t pay him by the word, anyway.
But then again, this shit wasn’t so bad. The sun was warm and the breeze was cool. Shade and sunlight made an intricate web through the trees above him. Below, Sera and Dorian kicked water at each other as the Inquisitor sprinted through the shallows between them, laughing as he’d scarcely seen them do. Maybe he should start writing more scenes with meandering streams, he thought. More moments with the main character’s boots off, their toes tickled by tall grass, and a wide-brimmed had shading their eyes. What harm could it do the good guys to breathe a little?
It certainly wasn’t hurting the Seeker who lay to his left on their shared bank. Her armor was neatly deposited beside her, abandoned for his latest and filthiest work of smut. She breathed easily and turned another page. He checked the number on the corner and marveled at her ability to remain unreadable in the face of complete debauchery. He admired it, truly.
She peeked an eye at him out from behind the cover, and he took the opportunity to give her a knowing wink. “Getting good, huh?”
Cassandra grunted in feigned annoyance, then rolled over to her stomach and shook her head. “The things that you write, Varric.”
“They’re the things that you read, Seeker,” he joked back.
She looked at him again, only for a moment before a deliciously coy smile spread across her lips. She put the novel down, then raised herself to her knees and then to her feet. She towered over him like the tree above, and ran a finger along the scruff on his jawline. “If you behave yourself, dwarf,” she teased in a low murmer, “perhaps I will show you that they are also the things I do.”
… Well, shit, he thought, nearly scrambling to his feet to follow her towards the tents. There was definitely going to be a lot more R and R in his next book.
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sparring-spirals · 2 years
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alright folks, medium paced and moderately tarnished liveblog time, TLOVM S1, ep 7!
oh percy was that kind of student huh. of course he was. i want to ruffle his lil hair.
wait fuck i should be paying attention, i’ve been vaguely wondering what residuum was ever since beau used it to drug a giant baby (that’s a fun C2 reference for anyone not in the know ;) ;) we were also all very shocked ;) )
yo prof i feel like they should at least have some PPE if you’re gonna be exploding rocks in their hands
fucking hell they’re both so baby. so smol. 
Love that this conversation is (very well done) but also essentially: “so percy.... what the fuck is up with you... and also... what IS that....” *points at gun* Percy: *Source: it came to me in a dream.png*.
me: aw keyleth is doing disney princess things. 5 minutes later: oh nope, thats fire. ... guess that could also be disney princess things.
did vax.. just.. pour ale on a fire to put it out? Does that work? Isn’t that- *torn between google and science experiments*
*whistles through teeth* Veeex........ *sees Vax take Keyleth’s side and Vex’s expression* oH p. oh boy.
Scanlan why would you make a joke about too-close-siblings with the peak of codependent sibling relationships in stabbing range.
knowing what I know about campaign 1 has me... so nervous about this conversation... like i know how this episode is gonna go, but by god the character implications. stop insulting scanlan like that cmon :(
what does it say about me that I heard Sam’s voice say “master” and immediately expected “debater” right after.
I find it so funny that of everyone besides Percy/Vax, Vex seems to be closest to Scanlan so far. Like its good, I like their relationship a lot so far, but also like, damn Vex, you’re that allergic to expressing emotions/affections like a regular person huh. 
this is a cute ditty. im liking scanlan, honestly.
HEY THEY’RE PLAYING THE THING IN THE THING ABOUT THE THING HEY LOOK HEY 
"who made this decison" "... you." "no one ever listen to me again." me the fuck too. i feel it.
aw vex, bonding the best way she knows how: talking about sibling relationships. ... and... scanlan.
Scanlan don’t drop your belongings, don’t you want them back? You don’t want to leave your anal beads do you???
(a moment of silence to reflect on how i got to a point where i’m typing that out)
S C AN BOOOOO
(side note: im having a LOT of fun trying to pick out what the DnD equivalents to things would be)
Groggo.... ragin... nice. VM teamwork. nice. :)
aw man :( not nice :( awww man :(
oh fuck, they end it there?
overall:
- Genuinely enjoyed Scanlan here. Juuuust the right mix of unsure and VERY sure and bravado and panic. Excellent. Also his entire rampage through the house was beautifully paced. excellent.
- hmmmmm. might just be sleep deprivation but some of the dialogue... wasn’t quite landing for me, beyond Scanlan’s bits. Can’t quite put a finger on it- not bad, but.... something. VM felt a little more.... tropey? And I can’t pinpoint why.
- Also I’ll admit it here: knowing about Perc’ahlia makes me maaarginally less invested in their conversations? Similarly with Vaxleth, to an extent. This has less to do with the specific ships and more just.... me, and romantic pairings in shows. I like these ships! And characters! They’re fun, and good, but I might be a lil more *grabby hands* at other dynamics.
- Seeing DnD turn mechanics into animated action sequences is genuinely so neat. I kept thinking about what would be an action, what wouldn’t. And also being mildly concerned they didn’t seem to have a long rest? Did everyone get their spells back? If they rested why didn’t Archie wipe the blood off his mouth? Archie just wipe the blood of your mouth ple ase.
- as always, living for characters just Doing Shit in the background of shots. Its my favorite.
- SCANBOOOOOOOOOO
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xaharadesert · 3 years
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Accidental Potion Drinking - Headcanon
Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC
A/N: This is one of the super cute requests I’ve gotten from @firefly-child! It’s taken some time to get to it (as I’m currently working through older requests), but I’m super excited to write something light and fluffy :) the backstory provided was along the lines of MC and their LI having a little wine night when MC accidentally grabs the wrong bottle and they end up drinking a harmless potion instead, which is a really fun request! I don’t know anything about wine, so I’ll just casually skirt around that issue by leaving it to the reader’s imagination, but since the type of potion was left up to me I’ll definitely be having some fun describing the effects! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, and requests are open!
TW: drinking, consumption of alcohol, tipsy characters, mentions of alcohol, sorry I don’t really know how to tag for this kind of thing, but the alcohol bit is really only mentioned briefly to set up the scene
❤️Julian❤️
It didn’t take long to realize that you had grabbed the wrong bottle, considering that after the two of you had taken a few sips of what you had thought was wine you had both started slowly floating upward
There were a few moments where Julian thought to himself “wow, this stuff must be pretty strong, I kinda feel like I’m floating” before he realized that, oh, he was, in fact, floating
This was followed shortly after by only a second of panic, which quickly turned into delight when he remembered he was dating a magician and this sort of thing was probably normal for you
Honestly though, as endearing as it would be for him to simply trust that you were pulling a harmless prank, you would probably be panicking a bit more because oh my stars you grabbed the wrong bottle and which potion was this exactly?
But of course, Julian has an infectious laugh, and seeing as you were already a bit tipsy and nothing majorly bad was currently happening, you dissolved into a fit of giggles as well
By now the two of you were drifting near the ceiling (thank goodness you were inside), laughing at each other as you tried not to spin too far apart
The effects of the potion wore off a few minutes later, seeing as you had only had a few sips each, and you settled down peacefully, no harm done
🧡Portia🧡
The two of you had been having a rather peaceful evening, for once devoid of any sort of job or task that needed tending to
You were genuinely relaxing, drinking wine and telling bad jokes that would send you into full-bellied laughter— the kind that only seemed to grow whenever you tried to stop
With that being said, it wasn’t that surprisingly when the two of you developed a bad case of the hiccups after a while
What was surprising were the bubbles that floated from your mouth afterward
Although you were initially confused, Portia’s obvious delight at the magical turn of events quickly dissuaded your worries
She was always thrilled whenever you performed even the smallest bit of magic in your daily life, and this was no different, even if it was an accident on your part
Her hiccups only seemed to get worse as she laughed harder, tears of joy starting to spill from her eyes
The mood was infectious, and you would find yourself joining her in her pure delight
Small moments of joy such as this permeated your relationship, but this one in particular would always be a favourite of Portia’s, she was sure
💛Lucio💛
You know, even with Mercedes and Melchoir’s incessant barking, you two had been having a rather relaxing evening, sharing your favourite wines with each other as Lucio regaled you with endless stories of his epic past battles and parties
However, as always, things took a turn in the most unexpected way
The two of you had only taken a few sips of a bottle you had brought out when you noticed the dogs’ barks seemed to sound… different
You tuned out Lucio for a moment and came to the realization that you were, in fact, hearing actual genuine words coming from the dogs’ mouths as they yelled at Lucio, an endless chant of “Dad, dad, dad!”
Lucio seemed to have not noticed, so you gave him a gentle shove and motioned for him to be quiet and listen to the dogs, which promptly lead to his own eyes widening and his mouth hanging open as he processed what was happening
He was thrilled, obviously, to be able to communicate with his beloved dogs, and all thoughts of the story he was telling were forgotten
In all honesty, Mercedes and Melchior didn’t seem to have a lot to say other than “Dad!” and “Love!”, but Lucio’s eyes were brimming with tears anyway as he hugged his dogs close
Let’s be real, having the opportunity to tell a beloved pet that you love them and to have them understand it would be one of the greatest feelings of all time, and Lucio was determined to not waste a second
What may have been a small mistake on your part was one of the greatest moments of Lucio’s life, in his words
💚Muriel💚
It wasn’t noticeable at first— then again, Muriel’s voice was rather deep
But after a few more sips, you couldn’t deny it; his voice was definitely getting higher
He had been in the middle of telling you about something funny one of the chicken’s had done that day, and you had been quietly listening, but now you absolutely had to know
So, as politely as possible, you interrupted him, only to find that, oh, yeah, your voice was much higher than before
Both of you seemed pretty shocked, but let’s be honest, it’s hard not to laugh when it sounds like both of you had just inhaled helium, which, apparently, was the effect of the potion you had accidentally poured out for the two of you to drink
Muriel tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably as you embraced the situation and let out a long and loud sound of joy
There was no harm in drinking the potion, luckily, so the two of you decided to continue as you were, telling stories in the most serious voices you could while trying not to burst out laughing
💙Asra💙
Most evenings you spent alone with Asra were filled with quiet laughter and gentle light continuing to illuminate the room even after the sun had bid you goodnight, and today was no different
You had opened a new bottle of wine just a few minutes prior, despite both you and Asra having slightly rosy cheeks from being a bit tipsy already
The cozy light of the lantern above your head reflected off of him in a way that almost made him seem like he was glowing, although combined with the way he dressed it wasn’t very unusual
That was until you reached out to him to push aside a stray curl from his face and subsequently realized that relative to you, he really was very much actually glowing
You had been telling him about a particularly stubborn customer earlier, and as a result, hadn’t had as much to drink, so the difference was clear
He picked up on your surprise quickly, and reached up toward his own hair, thinking perhaps there was something stuck in it that startled you, only to also see his skin was glowing with a faint light
Of course, he knew as well as you did that potions were often misplaced in the shop when there was no real urgency to keep them sorted, so he knew right away what was happening, and, frankly, he found it hilarious
If you were at all apprehensive about drinking random potions while tipsy, Asra would have been pick to put those thoughts from your mind by quickly downing more of the potion and snuffing out the lantern
This on it’s own would have been a funny sight, but when he smiled widely at you and you noticed that even his teeth were glowing with a bright white light, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything but laugh, which, of course, had been his plan all along
He would encourage you to drink the potion as well so the two of you could wander around in the darkened Vesuvian streets and scare other citizens :)
💜Nadia💜
Wine nights with Nadia are pretty common— it’s one of her favourite ways to unwind after a long day of working to improve Vesuvia
However, she’s usually the one providing the wine (seeing as she’s a very wealthy Countess), so nights like this one, where you brought over some of your favourites to share, were rather uncommon
The two of you weren’t particularly tipsy when you accidentally poured a potion into her glass instead of wine— an accident that you immediately recognized when Nadia morphed into an entirely different person in front of your eyes
Nadia herself seemed a bit surprised as well, seeing as the effect of the potion usually left the user with a mild child down their spine
You were quick to point out the error and apologize, but to your confusion Nadia seemed thrilled with the mistake
Blending in with Vesuvia’s population to gain a better understanding of her people was something she had always struggled to do, but you had just handed her the perfect opportunity
Wine forgotten, she grabbed your hand and lead you toward what was sure to be one of the most adventurous nights you had ever had in Vesuvia
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All flavours of wrong (part 1)
Masterlist Part 2
Pairing: Loki x Reader (gender neutral) (reader gets called princess and Queen mockingly, but it can have no gender connotations, just as in a joke).
Summary: You got an arranged marriage with the firstborn prince of Asgard, inheritor of the crown, God of Thunder. But your heart has other plans, that your brain cannot yet comprehend. And on Loki’s side it’s not getting easy either.
Word count: 4.5K
Warnings: Sexual tension (a lot). And honestly not much more? Mentions of blood.
I used prompt #293 and prompt #279 from @creativepromptsforwriting to take me out of a block, so thank you so much to this page, it’s incredibly useful! I recommend all writers to check it out.
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“Thor”, whispered Loki. But since his four failed attempts at calling him discreetly went wrong, he stepped on his foot under the table, making him spill wine all over his trousers.
“For Gods’ sake, brother, what do you want?”.
“Well, finally. Are you ignoring me? I’ve been trying to get your attention all dinner”.
“Yes, of course I’ve been ignoring you”, said as if it were obvious. It wasn’t.
“Why?”, Loki asked, trying to not sound hurt.
“You know why”, muttered under his breath, faking a smile when his gaze met his mother’s. “And shut up, we’re not supposed to talk if Allfather is not here yet”.
“Look, if it’s because I set on fire your History books, get over it, it’s not like you were doing great with that anyways”.
“You… you did what? It was you?”.
“Yes, of course. Oh, you didn’t know. Well, what are you ignoring me for, then? Ah, I know. Is it because I broke the…”.
“How many things of mine have you been destroying lately?”, Thor raised his voice slightly.
“Boys, enough”, interrupted Frigga. “Cut it off, your Father will be here soon”.
The siblings went back to their plates, and Loki kept stealing glances at his brother, trying to figure out what was wrong. Thor was nervous; his leg kept bouncing and bouncing, he barely touched his food (which was very suggestive, given that he usually ate it all in two mouthfuls), and he was refilling his cup with the strongest wine of the table, as if he needed to loosen up for something. Loki decided it was better off to just pay attention to what would come next. It was evident his Father would be bringing the thing that made Thor so nervous.
And then it hit him; it was already June.
The previous year Odin announced the possibility of an arranged marriage to whoever was winning on the competition for the throne, if he hadn't gotten anywhere near a possible royal companion. Thor was winning, by far; of course. And he didn’t show any partner, or even the possibility of a future partner, so no wonder why he was so nervous.
Loki went back to his plate, not sure how to feel. Annoyed, that was for sure. He knew he wasn’t going to be King (at least not until his brother died, if he didn’t die first), but the preparations for his inheritance got there faster than he expected. It was all too quick. And the disappointment grew bigger the more he thought of it. His father was not even giving him the chance to get better in the competition, and instead he just assumed it was Thor who’d win. Frustrating. Obvious, but still frustrating.
The doors opened and a young and bright warrior followed the footsteps of Odin. He, with a smile from ear to ear, waited until getting the attention of everyone, and, directly looking into Thor’s eyes, introduced you with your full name and current social status. Loki couldn’t stop staring with his lips slightly parted.
That was it. That was what annoyed him the most. His brother got to marry that.
He just couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked fast to see if there was something deceiving his perception, if maybe his whole family arranged a joke to him, if maybe that little warrior was an illusion casted by his Mother to laugh at how unfortunate he must have been looking at that moment. At the moment he realized his brother was marrying the perfect partner for Loki. You were, at least in the physical sense, his literal type. He was baffled.
And that didn’t go unnoticed by Thor either, who stole a glance from him and chuckled mockingly. Loki went red of embarrassment and tried his best to hide from you, to avoid your gaze, but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He felt hypnotized, and bothered. You didn’t look at him. You looked everywhere but him. You were amazed by the palace, by everyone around you. It was obvious you were not familiar with a royal life.
“You seem bewildered, brother”, Thor whispered in his ear.
“And you don’t seem as astonished as you should, brother”, he answered with levels of sarcasm in his tone he didn’t even know he had.
“I shouldn’t, this is merely formal”.
“You’re marrying them. It’s not entirely formal. It’s a whole future and family”, Loki discussed, but he knew his brother didn’t care about it enough. His brother didn’t even want the throne that badly, yet he was the one getting it. More and more frustration flowed through Loki’s veins. He kept staring at you with a frown. “Besides, look at that piece of art”.
He looked so tough, so serious, until you stared back. No, you didn’t even stare. You looked up and found his eyes. He quickly softened his expressions as you gifted him a gentle smile. His heart skipped a beat.
And just with a smile he knew, he was completely fucked.
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Loki closed his eyes and shut his fists as hard as he could, trying to focus and concentrate only on what he was supposed to. The spell.
But you were looking, and it was hard.
A week passed by, and you were already living in the palace, bonding with your future husband and trying to learn as much as possible from the new life you would acquire once the wedding passed. You met him everywhere; in the halls, on the meals, on the trainings, on the classes; everywhere. He had no means to escape you. Nor did he want to. But he couldn’t get used to that horrible and sweet feeling of his chest getting tighter, face warmer and balance unsteadier when he saw you.
“You’ve got this, Loki. We’ve been over this”, Frigga said from the other side of the training room. “Just remember what we practiced yesterday”. But the only thing Loki remembered from yesterday was when he was trying to train that same spell and you were, at the same time, practicing your archery skills outside. Sweaty. Tired. Ecstatic. Smiley. Red.
He opened his eyes and dropped his arms, completely giving up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do even a simple spell in front of you.
“What is it that’s distracting you so much, son? You have your head too full for this”, Frigga commented, getting closer to him.
“I’m simply tired, Mother. Don’t worry about it, had a poor night of sleep”.
“Well, get it together for this afternoon. We’re trying again after you get some rest, alright?”.
“Yes, Mother”.
You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation prince Loki and the Queen had. You were way too focused on how uncomfortable the clothes you had to wear were in you. You could barely breathe, and had to fix your posture to avoid choking. Besides, you could feel prince Thor’s eyes on you, and somehow it made you extremely uncomfortable.
You knew you would marry him. Then why couldn’t you at least fake a little bit of interest in him?
You redirected your attention to prince Loki, once again, and the corset was not the only thing that made your breathing harder. Gods, and for the Nine Realms, the prince’s training clothes were something else. Not even compared to Thor’s tank top and weird-looking shorts; Loki’s were almost made exactly for him and his silhouette. Black leather pants and top covering him almost entirely, tight even where it shouldn’t be that tight. Gold endings everywhere and little patterns in his long sleeves and trousers; details that only made it harder for you to not look. But you didn’t even know where to look, if you looked.
Well, you knew exactly where you should’ve been looking. To your side. The blonde and huge man with the big hammer that promised you a crown, a throne and a good place for your family to live in.
You shook your head, and got up to make yourself some tea, hoping the wrong thoughts would fall off your brain and you’d finally come to your senses.
Once you made it to the kitchen, you realized you shouldn’t have gotten there by your own. Unable to get used to the fact that if you wanted some tea you should ask for the maids to make it for you (as with everything, even the clothes you would wear, the foods you’d eat, the way the bed should be made, and an infinite etcetera), you ignored it and put the kettle on the fire.
You tried to reach for the tea box on the countertop, and stood on your toes, failing to even touch it with the tips of your fingers. As you turned around to look for a chair to climb to, you blundered against the God of Mischief’s chest.
“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry”, he apologized, taking a step back. “I was about to get the tea box for you”. You felt yourself completely red.
“It’s… it’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry” you stuttered nervously, with the echoing feeling of his torso against your arms and chest, making you blush even more. You wondered if he did that accidentally.
He smirked slightly and reached for the box effortlessly, making deep eye contact. Was he… was he flirting, somehow? you asked yourself. No, of course he wasn’t. That would be a hundred percent inappropriate, and he was completely appropriate and polite all the time. Even when he shouldn’t have. So, what was that about? Did he usually look at people like that?
“Breaking some rules, I see?”, he added after a painful minute of silence in where you chose the tea and mug. You turned around and realized he was still staring.
“What?”.
“You shouldn’t be the one making the tea, you know”.
“Yes, I know”, you answered calmly, trying to not show the tremble in your voice. Just the presence of that God in the same room made you feel… tiny. Weak. Maybe in a good way. No, definitely in a bad way; he shouldn’t be making you feel anything, for that matter. “And we shouldn’t be in the same room all alone”.
“Are you kicking me out?”.
“Just stating a fact”.
“Hm”.
“And offering you some illegal tea”.
He smiled. You were way too good for Thor, he thought. You would be bored if you married him. You had the trouble spark in your eyes and Loki was the perfect companion for that. It was so evident you were made for each other; then why would his parents think you would be better off with Thor? He was still clueless at how they could’ve made such an imprudent and blind decision.
“I’d love to, princess”.
You chuckled. “Princess? Really?”.
“Not good?”.
“No”. He lowered his gaze and put a strand of hair behind an ear. “Which kind would you like?”.
He stepped closer to you; so much closer that you could feel his slow breathing grazing your forehead. You tried your best to not rise your head and sink in his sharp features. He grabbed with two fingers a tea bag from the box you were holding. Your hands were trembling slightly. He then got a little bit closer (even though you didn’t think that was possible), slowly stretched his arm and picked up a mug that was conveniently behind you. As soon as he stepped away, you realized you held your breath the whole time.
“Are you alright? You look nervous”, he mocked, which only made you even more embarrassed.
“I suggest you stay in your place, prince Loki”, you said, trying to get back to reality. It was not okay. You could not flirt in any way or form with your future husband’s brother. Wrong. Wrong! All flavours of wrong.
“Suggestion denied”, he said with the same troublesome smirk from before, that still hadn’t wiped off his face. “And you can call me Loki”.
“I will not”, you said, filling his mug with the boiling water. “And you’ll call me by my full name, as you should”.
“You know, in our actual position… you should be the one recieving my orders”, he said, lowering his already deep voice. You swallowed, but tried to keep a determined and confident look on your face.
“Which are...?”. You knew you’d regret even asking, but he was right. He still was your prince, and you still were a mere warrior. He raised an eyebrow.
“Call me Loki”.
“Or?”.
“Well…”, he whispered raspily. You felt he was about to step closer to you again, but the voice of one of his tutors interrupted his flirting.
“What on the Realm are you two doing in here without an escort?”.
“Terribly sorry”, you muttered while you rapidly left the kitchen. Loki stood there, observing you leave and sighed. His tutor looked at him with disapproval and he simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled innocently.
But he had already decided, you were going to be his.
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You couldn’t help but to wander the palace as much as you could. The place was enormous and nothing compared to anything you’ve seen before. You only knew the tiny houses you grew up in Asgard, and the occasional visit to other Realm’s palace in the middle of a battle.
But you had to be careful. Nobody would approve you nosing everywhere, much less at those hours of the night. But, well, it was the perfect time, because the palace would not only be empty, but also illuminated by only the soft glimmering of the candlelights. It was gorgeous.
You roamed around through the hallways, until the sharp sound of a fall stopped you dead on your tracks. The sound was followed by an “ugh, fuck” from a particularly familiar voice, and your curiosity grew bigger. What was prince Loki doing at those hours in… the library, was it? You thought, as you tried to read the sign in the doorframe. All signs had to be in old Norse, of course. And you could barely speak it, let alone read it in the dark.
Peeping from the entrance, you got to see what the prince was doing. With a big and dusty book on one hand and a frown in his face, he was trying to make a pile of books from the floor levitate.
He shut his eyes close and once again, pointed at the books with the palm of his hand. A green light surrounded the objects and two of the three books got suspended in the air. With effort, prince Loki pushed harder upwards to make the third book levitate too, but soon got tired and the rest of the pile fell to the wooden floor again, making the same sound that brought you there in the first place.
He then left the open book he was holding over one of the tables and tried again, this time with both of his hands. In around five minutes he got to make the three books fly above his head, as if they were dancing. His eyes glittered and an ear-to-ear smile lit his face. You’ve never seen him smile so innocently, so childishly before.
How adorable, you thought, as you leaned on the doorframe. But the smile on his face got interrupted when you sloped wrongly over the door and fell down with a sound that felt more like a scream than a subtle gasp.
Loki ran to see where that sound came from, and found your flustered face on his feet, trying your best to not look too embarrassed by the fact that you were hovering, or even spying on him.
“May I help you with something, princess?”, he held your hand to help you up, but didn’t let it out when you were already on your feet.
“Thank you. And, please, don’t call me princess”, you said, freeing yourself of his hand.
“‘Please, don’t call me princess’? Darling, you’re begging for the wrong things in here”. You got chills from the seductive tone of his voice, and tried to ignore it through a laugh. There was nothing else to do but to hope he wouldn’t notice how blushed you’d gotten.
“It’s not appropriate that you keep flirting with me, Mischief”.
“I like that nickname”.
“Did you even listen to me?”.
“Yes, I know. You don’t want me to flirt with you because you’re afraid of being inappropriate. But, between us, which one was the one stalking the other one in the middle of the night?”.
“I wasn’t stalking. I was simply observing and hoping you wouldn’t notice”.
“That’s the dictionary definition of stalking, my dear”.
You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. He would know if you lied; and that’s probably why he kept flirting. Because he knew you didn’t mean it when you corrected him. You liked it. You truly enjoyed it.
“What are you doing?”, you asked after a while, pointing at the floating books that were now almost touching the roof.
“I really need to focus for this one in particular. If I need silence and emptiness, this place and time are usually a good idea. Unless, of course, there’s a little spy falling off the doorframe”.
“Sorry about that”, you chuckled, and he smirked.
“It’s fine, I basically finished it anyways”.
“Looks like you mastered it, though”, you complimented. Loki looked at you with a little smile.
“Well, I…”. He was about to answer you, but you reached out for a strand of hair on his face and moved it behind his ear. The books fell off abruptly, and Loki did his best to cover you from their impact, covering your whole body with an embrace. He didn’t let go of the hug, but looked at your face with shame. “I’m truly sorry. I got.. surprised, I guess”.
“Don’t worry. And sorry, didn’t mean to make you nervous”.
“Nervous?”.
“Or surprised, whatever”.
“You’re right, though”. He smiled gently once more and lowered his gaze. “You make me feel things, little warrior”.
“Prince Loki, you really shouldn’t…”.
“I can say it, you don’t need to answer it”. You sighed and gave him a knowing look. “If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop. If not, let me flirt with you. I don’t need you to flirt back”. You laughed at his proposition and he stared, waiting for a confirmation.
“Fine. But don’t call me princess. You make it sound diminishing”.
“As you wish, my Queen”.
“Oh my God”.
“Precisely”.
You both giggled and tried to keep it down just in case somebody else was awake. The moonlight making its way through the gigantic windows of the library were the only lightning, and the sharp features of the God became even more fascinating by the contrast. His eyes looked deeper. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you with them. You felt naked at his eye, and maybe not in a bad sense.
"What are you thinking about?", he asked after a while. You were both in silence, contemplating each other. Oddly, it wasn't uncomfortable. With Thor, on the other hand, you only felt uncomfortability; even if it wasn't an awkward situation, you knew you were not welcomed by him. Maybe not even his friendship.
"I'm… I think I should get going".
"Why?" he asked, and immediately grabbed your hand. "Stay".
"It's late. Thor might awake and not find me there".
"So?".
"Let's not cause a scandal, Mischief. I have to do what I have to do".
"Maybe you don't have to", he insisted, and you rolled your eyes. With a sigh, he let go off your hand. "I understand. I know you'll be better off like this".
"Yes, I will", you said, faking confidence. Maybe it was your sleep deprived brain that couldn't see right, maybe it was the sudden urge to do what you wanted instead of what you needed; either way, you lingered your way out.
He waited for you to go, but you stayed a little longer, delaying the sneaking back to bed with the man you didn't want to be with. You just needed one reason, only one reason to stay.
"Good night, darling", he said after a while. He knew better than to ruin your future and reputation for his selfish desires. He didn’t want to let you go, he wanted you to be his and only his. But he knew better than to make you a part of his brotherly quarrels. He appreciated you enough to keep you out of it.
"Good night, Loki".
He smiled as you walked away. As much as he shouldn’t have, he got you to call him by just his name.
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Not even two weeks passed by and everyone around him already suspected the obvious; the mischievous and rebellious brother was trying to make Thor’s partner fall in love with him. What not everyone knew was that it was completely working.
The stolen glances from up the shoulders in every meeting, every dinner, every event. The long walks around the Gardens, talking about literature, magic and general life. The trainings in one-to-one combat with him that lasted a bit longer than with the rest of the trainers. And you couldn’t help but smile at everything he said or did; it was so much harder than one could think, to hide such thing from Queen Frigga; she saw it all and knew better than everyone in romance. She also knew better than anyone both of her sons, and it was evident how they both felt about you. Because Thor’s stone cold indifference wasn’t one to go unnoticed as well.
In dinner, Loki was again sitting by Thor’s side, and couldn’t help but to chatter about the subject that bothered him so much.
“They’s late, brother; you’ll marry a terribly mannered warrior”, he mocked. Thor rolled his eyes and contraatacked.
“At least I’m marrying them”.
“You say it as if I wanted to”.
“Please”, Thor scoffed.
“Marriage is a boundary. I merely desire them”.
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to hold their hand from the Throne, or to put a crown on their head”, mocked Thor. Loki sushed him, because he was completely right. Loki would’ve loved to gently caress your hair and kiss your pink cheeks, to fidget with your ring as he held you in the mornings and nights. Gods, he was lost.
“I do not, anyways. But if you plan on borrowing me wedding night and spare you the annoyance you’d feel by bedding them… I agree”.
“Will you keep on making sexual jokes to avoid real feelings all your life or do you grow up after the 1100 year?”.
You opened the door and got in with your head low and breathing unsteady, embarrassed and apologizing. The princes stopped the chattering and followed you with their eyes. Loki didn’t even hide his expressions of pure and raw desire. Your hair was a disaster, and you were still in your ripped warrior clothes, covered in mud, blood and scratches. The dagger strapped to your thigh was, too, covered in blood.
“Hot”, said Loki, unintentionally louder than he should have. Dear, he loved when you looked like a threatening mess.
“What?”, you asked in a breath, still agitated.
“Eh, hold. Hold the door, I meant”, he corrected himself (everyone was looking, even the guests, and he knew better than to be that inappropriate on certain occasions). But you knew exactly what he said and smirked slightly, just enough for him to notice.
“You were saying… you didn’t want to?”, whispered Thor just before Loki got up and walked through the tables. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do, but if he said ‘hold the door’ he had to keep it verosimil, didn’t he?
As he walked past you, slowing down, he whispered “library, tonight”. And then left the dining room, leaving an even more blushed you to imagine what could he possibly want from you. And your imagination was not precisely innocent.
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You took a deep breath and held it for a minute before getting inside. After wandering around the bookshelves, you noticed the room was still empty. Maybe too early? It was barely midnight. Everyone was already asleep and the Palace was, as every night, dead silent.
You sat on the couch and caressed the texture with the tip of your fingers. Was he coming? Did he say it just to make you blush in lunch? Perhaps he was messing with you. He was the God of Lies and Mischief after all, wasn’t he?
After ten minutes you stood up and decided to look for something to read. You wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, so might as well make the most of the night; with or without prince Loki.
You walked slowly, reading carefully every title. If something had your attention, you’d read it on that beautiful velvet couch, in front of the fireplace. Even grab a mug of coffee, to keep you up until you finish your readings. The plan sounded marvelous, but you couldn’t help but to feel disappointed you wouldn’t spend the night with him.
You weren’t expecting to actually get physical, of course. He was not your fiancé and would never be. He was barely a lover. Not even that. He was the man you loved and desired, yes. But merely platonic. It wouldn’t go any further. It couldn’t go any further.
But you were expecting to have that precious alone time he gifted you in the nights, where everything was off and both of you were the only flame alive in the whole Kingdom. The glances he threw at you, the smiles he drew to let you know you were appreciated; you were wanted, you were loved by him.
As you reached for one of the books, a bigger hand wrapped around yours and the book, making you gasp.
“Hello”, he whispered in your ear, earning a shiver from you. Just that, he didn’t need to do any more than that to set on all your alarms and get your face redder and hotter than ever.
You turned around and smiled. He didn’t move away; in fact, he raised both his arms to your sides and locked you between him and the bookshelf.
“Seems like you won’t let me go away, won’t you?”.
“I don’t think you would even if I gave you the opportunity”.
“And how are you so sure about that?”.
“You came here, as I asked you to”.
“So?”.
“Are you actually going to play dumb?”.
You both laughed slightly, still not wanting to make a single noise. He got a few inches closer, and you did too. You raised a hand and fondled his hair. Moved your hand all the way from up his ear to down his neck. He slowly slipped down one hand to your waist and the other one to your collarbone, making the same deep eye contact he made with such lust; that desire he always looked at you, but amplified to a hundred and ten percent.
Now both of your hands were cupping his face. He was warm. And smiley. And… God, gorgeous. Godly gorgeous, as he always was. You traced with your fingers his cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. You sighed.
“May I kiss you?” He whispered, getting even closer. His breathing was slow and you could feel it on your face. His question was barely audible, yet so strongly loud to you.
May he kiss you? May you kiss him? You weren’t supposed to be even that close with him. You weren’t allowed. You shouldn’t look at him the way you did. Or touch him the way you wanted to. But there he was, asking to kiss you. And you had no other words in your vocabulary else than;
“Please”.
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probably-haven · 3 years
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Hello!
So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!
I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!
And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!
rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!
also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 
This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.
ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely
More Archon War Era Venti: one two three
spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)
first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.
the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.
This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea
but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.
When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt
-
as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's
- he was a wanderer
- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)
- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed
there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."
-
Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)
My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.
So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did
so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close
now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.
A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.
It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.
-
now back to Gunnhildr
she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.
It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."
I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.
So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.
Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.
but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.
anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in
The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.
Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.
I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.
And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.
He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.
but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.
I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.
Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan
anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir
He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.
Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it
and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.
See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"
And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.
also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.
Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.
basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.
And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.
And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.
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Yeeaaah… so this ended up turning out longer than I intended… but it’s a theory I felt like sharing nonetheless. Hopefully tumblr doesn’t eat this & if this is too long or odd to answer… don’t worry, I understand. I just wanted to share while it was in my head, ya know? So: Long Post Warning!
I am not 100% caught up on every chapter yet, but I do have a brief understanding of all the events up til now. So please forgive me if this has been revealed and I just don’t know about it yet.
Bell 🧚🏻 = wind spirit🌬🌪
Salamander (who honestly looks more like a dragon than a salamander so he’s gettin’ the dragon emoji) 🐲 = fire spirit 🔥
Undine 🌊 = water spirit💧
As far as I know, we don’t yet have an inkling of who the earth spirit will be or to whom he will “choose” to contract with.
Tbh, I have a some of feelings about possibilities surrounding the earth spirit…
Bell and Undine are both obviously women and I’m 96.8% sure that Salamander is a boy… but who knows, I also wouldn’t be the least bit freaking surprised if Tabata threw that back in our face and Salamander ends up being a girl like in Shrek (and on that note, I just need to ask, in Shrek 2 when Shrek and Donkey drank the Happily Ever After Potion, it’s described as “"Happily Ever After Potion maximum strength. For you and your true love. Drink of this potion and bliss will be thine, happiness, comfort, and beauty divine.” This stuff turned both Shrek and Fiona human while it turned Donkey into a pure white stallion… am I the only one that still gets peeved we never got an answer on wtf that stuff did to Dragon??? Or how it would’ve affected their dragon donkey hybrid babies??? That’s the only thing that irks me about Shrek 2… okay, whew, now that I’ve gotten that out, back to Black Clover theorizing)
Going by the assumption that Salamander is most likely a boy, it would stand to reason that the earth spirit has a good chance at being male as well like 2 female spirits, 2 male.
Salamander’s inspiration obviously comes from dragon lore, I can’t find one singularly specific mythology reference Tabata would have based Salamader on so I’m guessing Salamander is based on dragon lore.
Bell has, for the most part, 2 inspirations Tabata based her on. The main one being Sylphs have power over the skies and air. They've been delineated to have control over the wind and the clouds, and even have the ability to purify the air and control the weather itself. Sylphs are not officially from a specific type of mythology, but if they were to be categorized they’d qualify as European folklore, same as Undine and Gnome which will be explained a few bullet points later. The second and most obvious (my fav of the 2) inspiration Tabata drew from for her character is Tinkerbell; from the blond hair, green dress, gets pissed when male partner pays attention to any female that isn’t her, yeah no denying she’s based on tinkerbell; my guess is Tabata combined her with Sylphs wind magic because it was Tinkerbell’s pixie dust that Peter, the lost boys, and the Darling children used to be able to fly. “Faith, trust, & a little bit of pixie dust” (Which is even more perfect because, even if he doesn’t show it, there is no one else in the series that has more faith & trust in Asta than Yuno does… Yuno’s infinite faith/trust in Asta both drives their rivalry forward and, by this logic, is one of the very reasons Yuno can sore so high🥰).
Undine is the only spirit character, for now, that is directly based off of a real water spirit in European folklore (again, even though Sylphs technically qualify to be categorized under European mythology, as far as I know, they are not officially categorized as such which is why I say Undine is the only one) - “Undine, also spelled Ondine, is a mythological figure of European tradition, a water nymph who becomes human when she falls in love with a man but is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.” Being that Undine is described as being able to take human form when she falls in love with a man *cough cough* Ariel *cough cough* Black Clover’s Undine’s background states that she made a contract with the first queen of the newly formed Heart Kingdom and has thus stayed loyal and made a contract with every Heart Queen since. Maybe she fell in love with the father/brother/husband/male-figure associated with the first queen and since the queen is the predominant ruler of the heart kingdom - Undine made a contract with her to be close to this man while knowing he could/would never be hers… she wouldn’t die if her love is one sided… if her love is unsaid and unrequited then anything this man does with another woman isn’t considered being unfaithful.. and maybe she’s maintained contracts with every Heart Queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love to that original man whom she took human form for. Or she was in love with the first queen and has made a contract with every queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love not on just for that first queen but every one of her descendants. Who knows?
Tabata’s mythological references (demonology excluded because that a whole other thing) for the most part mainly circulate around Greek mythology, Norse mythology, and European folklore.
Going based off of Undine (and Sylphs) , there’s a strong possibility that this yet to be named earth spirit will possibly directly based on, even if only slightly, someone of those three categories above.
Greek mythology, I find somewhat unlikely seeing as there’s no official male god of earth in Greek mythology. There are deities that have roles related to the earth yeah… but no god surround the earth itself or the element itself. The closest thing to a god of earth in Greek mythology is Gaea - goddess of earth. Simplify it to god of dirt and still the only result is Demeter goddess of agriculture (which seems similar to Mimosa in some ways but I don’t think she will obtain an earth spirit because I think the earth spirit will have more to do with mineral earth than plants and agriculture). If there is to be any inspiration drawn from Greek mythology in terms of an earth spirit, but even this seems a little unlikely, my guess would be possibly some characteristics from Satyrs seeing as they are the male equivalent of nymphs - what Undine is technically classified as.
Norse mythology seems a bit more, but not by much at first, plausible in terms of gathering reference for an earth spirit. It probably wouldn’t be the Norse God of Earth Jörd because she is still technically a goddess and mother of earth like Gaea. However, Norse mythology does have a deity of rocks - Hrungnir is a jötunn (a type of entity contrasted with gods and other non-human figures, such as dwarfs and elves. The entities are themselves ambiguously defined, variously referred to by several other terms, including risi, thurs and troll). There is also one more Norse aspect that goes along these lines - Dvergar or Norse dwarves are entities in Norse mythology associated with rocks, the earth, deathliness, luck, technology, craft, metal work, wisdom, and greed.
Norse mythologies depictions of both jötunn and dvergar tie into the third category of European folklore’s depiction of earth deities/spirits. In European folklore, Gnome, is a dwarfish, subterranean goblin or earth spirit who guards mines of precious treasures hidden in the earth. He is represented in medieval mythologies as a small, physically deformed (usually hunchbacked) creature resembling a dry, gnarled old man. - this description is similar to that of jötunn/dvergar and also ties into Charmy being revealed as part dwarf which will most likely be explored in a later arc.
Tbh, I picture this guy’s personality being somewhere between Grumpy from Snow White, the grumpy but well-meaning and wisecrack Lorax, and Phil from Disney’s rendition of Hercules… (not only does imagining this type of personality have me laughing… imagining the 2 most whom I find most likely to be chosen by this earth spirit… imagining them being partnered up with this personality has me near cackling😂)
As for the 2 whom most likely might be the “chosen one” of this earth spirit?
Even though he is technically described as being Arcane in terms of his magical attribute, Mercury is by definition “a naturally-occurring chemical element found in rock in the earth's crust, including in deposits of coal.” So mercury is naturally occurring, derived from earth, and the fact that it can come from deposits of coal ties in perfectly to the hypothesis of this earth spirit/deity being along the lines of dwarves which (not JUST in Snow White) are heavily associated with miners in various mythologies and folklores. So even though technically classified as being arcane, I do think Nozel has a strong possibility of being chosen by the spirit of earth (+ it would make for an EVEN MORE epic rivalry between Nozel and Fuegoleon if they both have an elemental spirit) (++ based off of how dwarves are depicted in mythology and based on how I decribed how I think this guy’s personality will be, I can see this guy as wise/rational but also getting grumpy/irritated easily with a short fuse and just imagine him getting irritated and kicking Nozel in the shins when when he doesn’t communicate his feelings properly & almost always kicks Solid/Nebra/Augustus in the shins when he says something he shouldn’t have - omg this guy’ll be a hoot!!🤣)
The second possible “chosen one” of this earth spirit could be Sol. Not only is she 100% raw earth magic but I also feel like it would balance her out a bit having a male spirit attached to her and that’s where the wisdom side of the Lorax/Phil could kick in and help her not only improve as a mage but also as a person helping her not see things so one sided. You notice, even though the Blue Rose Knights are an all girl squad… Sol is the only one that goes to that much of a degree in despising men; everyone else on the squad detests men on the surface but for the most part not truly. Charlotte keeps up the façade of detesting men to both appear strong for her squad ladies but also to mask her own insecurities. Sol, while she has gotten a little better since her initial introduction, is the only one who barely tolerates men… the only one who’s depicted as not having a façade and genuinely detests all men with a few exceptions. Having a male spirit like character who does not take her BS (*shin kick💥*) but also offers her wisdom and guidance that helps her grow as a person would be phenomenal for her character overall.
I find Nozel to be the more interesting outcome (NO! not just because I’m a Nozel simp… who told you that? They lie) but either of these characters would be interesting and could improve drastically in character development and as a mage having someone like this joined at the hip.
What are your thoughts?
– Grimoire_Girl📚
OKay, okay *takes a moment* (Also: did I just stop what I was doing, just to read and reply to this? .... Maybe)
I'd like to platonically kiss you on the mouth (with your consent ofc, because consent is a big thing on this blog), because I love this. Okay the Fue simp in me was hoping to have more of him, but in the end I didn't even mind. And can I just say that I love, lovelovelove the idea of Nozel getting the Elemental Spirit of Earth.
The theory is made *so* *much* *better* by the mental image of him (supposedly 'him') being a Lorax/Phil (from now on, let's call him Phorax). Because can you just imagine this duo?! Nozel, our lovely tsun-tsun who is in need of a big, warm hug and therapy. (Like Nozel, sweetie, I know that there aren't many therapists around, but you need to talk to someone.)
I'm also thinking that since it's probable that there'll be the 2-2 divide between boy/girl spirits, because I kinda agree with you on Sal being a boy (I'm aware of Shrek 2, but unfortunately I have no answers, but I laughed *so hard* while reading that), if there'll be a divide between the Spirit forms that have wings. Because I can't see the Earth Spirit giving a flying Spirit Dive form.
I mean, what, everyone else, aka the rest 3 spirit owners can rise to the skies and then Nozel is left behind like a plucked chicken? (I'm so, so sorry for that comparison, but ain't no one leaving him behind! Nozel. Needs. To. Be. Included.) I don't think that's fair. So, it could very well be that the two else give a "grounded" Spirit form, and Bell and Undine give a flying form.
Aaaanyways... I do like your theory/thoughts on how Undine came to be. And I could very well see that to be canon.
I, honestly, have nothing further to add at this point. Because this is brilliant. I love this.
But Tabata please, give us a tiny bit more lore. Please? A pretty please
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hela-avenger · 4 years
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To the Stars Who Listen- Part 6
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Author: hela-avenger
Word Count: 1790
Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader
A/N: Oh this one was fun to write. Please do enjoy the chaos of this part! Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)
TTSWL Masterlist
You walk into the kitchen quickly gravitating to the freshly brewed coffee pot. You’re not the only one awake in the early morning as Bucky and Sam are bickering from their seats on the counter. 
“I didn’t fall asleep,” Sam exclaims. “You did!” 
“No, I didn’t,” Bucky scoffs. “I was awake from the start to the very end. You’re the one who can’t hang after your early bedtime.” 
“You want to come after my bedtime?” Sam repeats. “At least I get the recommended eight hours of sleep every night. I'm a healthy individual. What do you do? You stay up all night doing God knows what and sleep in all day. You got bags under your eyes, old man!” 
Your chuckle breaks the tension in the room as you settle across from them. 
“Are you two… sleeping together?” you ask. 
“Me and him,” Bucky answers as he points at himself and Sam. “He wishes.” 
Sam looks offended.
“I’m so way out of your league and besides, you’re not my type.” 
“I’m everybody’s type,” Bucky argues. 
You roll your eyes at them wondering how you managed to end one argument just to ignite another one. 
“Guys,” you exclaim, capturing their attention immediately. “If you’re not dating, then why are you arguing about who fell asleep first?” 
Sam and Bucky share a look and you knew the answer would not be to your liking. 
“Tell me.” 
“We were just keeping an eye out for you, doll,” Bucky answers. “Loki knew what he was doing when he chose the room right in front of yours. Sam and I thought it would be for the best to station ourselves in your hallway throughout the night to make sure he doesn’t pull anything.” 
“Yeah, but then I fell asleep on my shift,” Sam sighs. “So we lost surveillance for the rest of the night.” 
“Ha! You admit it then!” Bucky exclaims. “It was your fault!” 
“Oh, come on,” Sam scoffs. “You should have had an alarm ready to take over for your shift. What’s your excuse for not waking me up?”
“Well, I snoozed my alarm,” Bucky confesses with a shrug. “I expected you to come over to wake me up but you didn’t.” 
“So what I’m hearing is that it’s both of your faults…” 
“Yes,” both answer. 
“...And that you guys invaded not only Loki’s privacy but my own for stalking my hallway the entire night...” 
“Yes.” 
“...And not only did you fail in your appointed surveillance job but you have also now severely pissed me off,” you conclude enjoying the alarmed look falling upon both of their faces. You take a sip of your coffee and hum. “I hope you know payback’s coming.” 
They continue to stare at you with mouths gaped open. 
“I know I should be afraid but I find myself very attracted to you right now.” 
“Same.” 
You stare at Bucky and Sam in surprise. 
“Did you guys mean to say that out loud?” 
Bucky scowls before you find his face turning alarmingly red. 
“I mean you’re hot when you’re mad and threatening and in charge...” 
“I think what Bucky is trying to say is that we have a thing for women in power and why did I just tell you that,” Sam stammers out. “I… Wait, are you doing your thing? Your confession thing? Oh, you are! You sneaky…” 
You frown when you realize that you were indeed doing it again. You were in control of this power inside of you but you didn’t know how to make it stop. Part of you wondered if you even wanted to. 
“I gotta go,” you interrupt as you set your mug down. “I gotta go now.” 
You don’t wait to hear their responses as you run out of the kitchen. You just wanted to make your way into your room and figure it out yourself but luck was never on your side seeing as a cheerful Wanda appeared around the corner. 
“Good morning,” Wanda greets. “Do you wanna hear a secret? Vision and I have been secretly seeing each other. No one knows!” 
You can’t hide the shock on your face and neither can Wanda as her smile drops. 
“Why did I just tell you that?” 
You don’t offer a response as you sprint out of the hallway hoping to just reach the privacy of your room. It doesn’t surprise you when you run into somebody else but you are relieved at the face you find. 
“Loki,” you sigh. “Good, great… Let’s go.” 
You take a hold of his wrist and start to lead him out of the building and away from the facility overall. You stray from the paved path and start descending down a random hill. Loki waits for his monitor to go off but nothing occurs. 
“Where are you taking me, little mortal?” Loki finally asks. “Why are we so far out?” 
“I can’t shut it off,” you exclaim as you let him go. “I was just having breakfast with my friends when they started to confess things to me. I didn’t even realize it until they were spewing things I didn’t need to know. I’m not manic like I usually am. I am in full control here and I don’t know how to turn it off.”
Your chest suddenly feels tight and you can’t take a deep breath. 
“Can I even turn it off? Am I stuck this way?” you ask as your vision begins to fade out. “Oh… Oh I don’t feel so good. My heart should not be beating this fast and I feel really hot. I feel like I’m going to…” 
Loki is quick to grab you as he notices your imbalance. He helps settle you down onto the ground and advises you to breathe.
You do but it doesn’t ease you at all. 
Loki didn’t have to touch you to feel the power radiating from your body. Once again it had alarmingly grown overnight to the point that it was no longer being held into your body but around it like a protective cloud.
 “Don’t panic.” 
You glare at him in response seeing as you were currently in a state of panic. 
“Well… don’t panic more than you already are,” Loki corrects. “But your power has grown once again and seeing as you are in control then we must resort to other methods in how you deal with this excess power.” 
Loki waves his hands in a circular motion and a pair of golden gauntlets appear out of thin air. 
“These should help,” Loki states as he kneels down in front of you. He takes your hand and slips one on before doing the same with the other. “Just don’t take them off.” 
You inspect the gauntlets that you were now sporting. The metal was cool against your skin and laid heavy around your wrists. A light stone rested on your palms and you watched as it shifted colors. 
“What are these?” you ask him. 
“Siphons,” he answers. “The stones embedded on the palm of your hands come from Alfheim. They store and help young seidr-wielders to manipulate magic more precisely. I used similar ones when I was younger until I grew into my powers.” 
“But I won’t have that same luxury, will I?” 
“No, no you will not,” Loki answers. “You will have to wear these for the rest of your life and expel the collected power over time. If you go too long without doing so the stones will become overpowered and break which wouldn’t go well for you.” 
“I end up dying, right?” 
“Yes.”
“Alright, great,” you mutter. “How do I do that? Expel power?” 
Loki tries to find the words to explain but finds himself at a loss. He can’t help but think back to how his mother had given him his own siphons when his power started to affect everyone around him. 
“Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and focus. Conjure up your intention and then trust your magic to make it real.” 
Loki uses those same words with you and watches how you follow his instructions with more ease than he had all those years ago. 
A bright light flashes from your hands shooting into the wooded area nearby. Two tree branches crash to the ground and you flinch at the sight of them. 
“Ok that’s kind of scary,” you comment as you look down at the gauntlets. “Was that normal?”
“In a way…” Loki mumbles realizing the alarming power that you held in the literal palms of your hands. “Like I said, you’re stronger than I presumed you would be.”
“Great, that’s great,” you mumble. “Now I know how Tony feels with his thrusters.” 
You look down at the palm of your hands noticing the siphons lighting up once more.
“They’re up and running again.” 
“As I’ve said before, you’ve been bestowed a great power.” 
You can’t help but pause and think over your entire interaction with him. 
“A power that you seem immune to,” you point out as you turn to look at him. “The others… they confessed things without prompting. You didn’t. Why?” 
“We’ll both be immune to each other in one way or another,” Loki explains. “I can never lie to you since you’ll be able to tell. Of course this means that you won’t be able to lie to me because that is my area of expertise and I’ll know.” 
“But why?” 
“Because balance,” Loki repeats. “You and I are two sides of the same necessary coin. We are the light and the dark, the sun and the moon, the good and the bad... ” 
“Right, the truth and the lies,” you sigh but something still didn’t fit in his explanation. “Why does it feel like you’re not telling me everything?” 
Loki is surprised that you have caught on to him quickly. You were adapting fast to your new power. Trusting it instinctively and so naturally as if you already accepted it as a part of you. 
He can’t help but stammer out in surprise. 
“There are loopholes,” Loki answers honestly. “Manners in which I can evade the truth without speaking dishonestly.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. 
“You could certainly work around that though as you did now. I’m sure with some training you could manage to catch on to the evasions quicker.”
“Are you going to train me in that?” you ask. “Or are you going to keep those secrets to yourself?”
Loki can’t help but chuckle. 
You were bold and unafraid of him. Not many of the new agents had that same courage nor the strength to be fighting alongside Midgard’s merry band of heroes. You were one of a kind. 
“We shall see,” he answers. “For now, let’s focus on the siphons. Become familiar with them, get used to the feel of them, and most importantly, learn to aim.” 
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royalreef · 2 years
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@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:
Give! Me! The! Undead! Lore!
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(( I still don’t have a ton of undead lore at this time, honestly? Mainly because I’ve been fussing over how I want to handle them as a group - there are so many variations of “undead” and so many different ideas of what that term means, that it’s hard to nail it down to one single concept.
For example: I already know that vampires are people who have been afflicted with a magical virus, which restructures their body and gives them a compulsion and simple biology needed to obtain and ingest blood. It’s primary host is humans, but has made zoonotic jumps to werewolves and catfolk before, with werewolves being somewhat more common than catfolk. Any species that isn’t a mammal is basically immune, hence those three, and it requires biological components and a living host, so magically constructed species like demons are also going to be immune. 
Importantly, the compulsion is what matters the most - vampires could, very much so, live off of the same diet they possessed before, but vampirism moreso makes them highly adverse and even afraid of eating anything other than blood, even when their body still might need those additional nutrients. This is made even more difficult by the changes imposed upon their bodies by the virus’ magical components, which can make it harder to eat what they used to, giving them traits more in-line with whatever type of magic the virus picked up on. 
It’s spread through blood, either whenever infected blood enters into the bloodstream, or through saliva coming in contact with blood/open wounds. Vampirism is ultimately a pretty survivable condition, so long as the proper steps are taken to accommodate for the person. Since the need for blood is more of a mental need than a physical one, things that look like blood but aren’t can address this issue with ease, or even just substituting animal blood. The only danger comes if these accommodations aren’t made, since vampires can still starve, and no one starving will be acting in their rational mind. 
But all of this comes back around to the issue of other undead. I’ve debated over making zombies a different strain of the same virus as vampires, or even just the same thing entirely, just called a different name sometimes. But I couldn’t tell you if this is a good call- I’m still fussing over it, and I’m not sure how I feel about adding to the trope of a zombie virus, even if these zombies are just... Normal people, still alive, still themselves, just with a change in needs and accommodations that have to be made for them. They might look different now, but it’s far from the end of the world.
Other types of undead get even harder. I’m pretty sure there’s still magically-constructed undead, with the full range of how much of a soul they possess? ( Albeit, in the redesign universe, a “soul” is roughly defined as the amount of magic contained within the body at any given time. Even in nonnative magic users, they still will take in universal background magic and store it within their cells, they just aren’t doing anything with it and it’s too small to create much of an effect. Think radioactive isotopes that get used for things like carbon dating. ) 
With some undead, they’re basically a bunch of bones just loosely tied together and animated to do stuff, some are more complicated and the spells that created them interact with their souls to a degree to allow them to retain their old personalities at their time of death ( since magic picks up on the things that surround it ), and then you have the undead who are basically an entirely new magically-constructed person who just so happens to be contained within a shell that used to belong to someone else, and more from there. It gets even weirder with less-intentional undead, since wild magic can result in some bizarre outcomes if there’s a lot of unused biological material around it, and none of this is even talking about ghosts, which is what happens when a person’s soul at the time of death interacts with magic in a certain way, that essentially forces that person to be reborn as a highly unstable magic construct. In the case of ghosts, they either can be tied to the body in some way or not, and the resulting spell that is their entire self now is usually messy, tangled, and unique on a case-by-case basis.
Steins are also included in the definition of undead, even if the idea gets... even messier from here. There’s no one definition of a stein, no one way to construct one, so this covers a MASSIVE variety of “I tried to make a person” and a similarly ranged variety of results. Calling them steins, or constructs, or any kind of grouping at all really, is going to be more of a cultural thing than an actual term or even a real group. I think the only thing they’d all really have in common is the mix of biological components with magical components, since you still can’t just reanimate dead tissue, but that still makes them fundamentally the same thing as just a skeletal construct, and it’s even worse when you start including the fact that not all of the parts that make up a stein might be dead when they were used. You could argue that other species having kids as they do is the making of a stein, even when it’s just normal sexual reproduction. It’s complicated.
And then you have entirely-magic magically constructed species who get called undead because they kinda vaguely look like the undead. Just to give you a hint of how wide the terms really are.
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jamestrmtx · 3 years
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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]
[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]
Chapter Thirteen | Waterfall (Part 2 of 4)
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
You keep repeating to yourself this is nothing but a simple and friendly outing, though it's easy to forget with how insistent Frisk and Undyne have been in terms of suggesting the opposite.
The feeling's made worse when you get down from the ride and see how grand and overwhelming the place you've been invited to is. In comparison to the warm and calm ambiance of a regular bakery or a small coffee shop, you're met with people clad in semiformal outfits and a refined atmosphere -- similar to that of a five-star restaurant. What reminds you this is just a place for eating desserts is being greeted at the front by a humbler-dressed, white-furred rabbit monster labeling himself as the second owner of the shop, the name 'Roger' spelled out on his name tag. He greets you and Sans in, and offers you a pamphlet.
"I remember you," he says, facing Sans with a smile. "You're from Snowdin, aren't you? It's nice to see you've found a date up here!" The excitement in his tone warns he's about to ramble. "It's so refreshing to see other people like us! Honestly, we… We made this shop hoping more would show up, but you two are the second couple I've had the knowledge of serving here so far!"
"Like us?" you ask, facing the monster. "Is your partner human?" 
"Yes!" he takes your hand while his nose twitches with pent-up energy. "People always come here talking a little, well... mean about it, so I always have to stay on-watch. The first couple that came here got scared off by one of those customers, but now my girlfriend makes sure to keep an eye out!" He lets go, apologizing after. "I get too excited every time I see pairs like you walk in together, but they always tell me they're just friends! And while I get that, really it's... It's such a joy to have you guys here!"
"We're actually not-"
"I get what you mean." In the spur of the moment, you interrupt Sans when he tries to say the truth. Roger's excitement is too bright to rain on, resulting in you wanting to play along. With how he is, you're sure the skeleton's not going to let you live it down, but one look at the hope in the other monster's eyes is enough to make your heart turn to mush. "This is actually our first date, but we're getting there."
Roger smiles, though it soon fades as he looks at the approaching line of customers from afar. Then, he looks to the shop to see the ones who entered in before you have already sat down. "Sorry for holding you back so much," he adds, huffing as an apologetic look makes its way through. "I try really hard not to get too excited about this kind of stuff, but again... It's so nice to have you guys here!" He points over to the counter, smile reappearing. "Go ahead and stop by the counter, alright? You can order to-go, or sit down, if you want to stay!"
"Thank you," you reply, returning his smile. 
You make way into the shop with Sans by your side, avoiding eye contact all the way to the counter. You already know he has a comment on the ready, so it's not much of a surprise when you hear him speak up right before making it there. "So," he says, chuckling. "First date, huh?" He walks a little closer to your side, trying to get you to look at him, but failing. "...Was that meant as a lie, or are you hintin' at somethin' else there, pal?"
"I'm not sure what to think of this myself, but…" You stop halfway, not wanting to admit your own wants just yet. "In the end, I only did it 'cause I couldn't bring myself to get his hopes down." A pink-furred bunnywoman takes your order. The reply you'd given Sans by text is then worded out by him, along with his own order and Frisk's favourite dessert to-go. While you have your wallet close by, you're not told to pay yet, and are instead led to an empty table, where you're both left to wait. You thank the monster as she leaves and go back to your conversation with Sans as soon as she's gone from your sight. "But even if this was a date, I still don't think I'd be able to accept having another one after today's."
At that, his curiosity rises, shown by the subtle flicker in his irises. "What do you mean?"
You avoid his gaze by toying with the cutlery left on the table. "I need to focus more on raising Frisk before going anywhere with my love life."
"Why?" There's honest confusion in his question despite how blunt and intrusive it is without any proper context, something he catches onto by using another one to elaborate his meaning better. "So you haven't dated anyone ever since that day?"
You nod while thanking a waiter, this one a brown bear dressed in more formal wear; he sets two drinks down -- one for you and one for your company. "I haven't, and to be honest I'd…" Your chest feels tight as so does your throat, both of these almost trying to distract you away from what you're about to say. "I'd like to keep it that way for as long as it's needed." You try to stop yourself from saying anything else, though the coziness of the shop and Sans's presence give you an entry for letting out what's been kept hidden for as long as that day came around. "I need to be there for Frisk, and I need to be more careful of who I date from now on." You're not sure what else's making you open up so much, but you don't exactly stop yourself from continuing with your thoughts. "You see, I… I really don't want Frisk to grow up in an environment full of constant fights and disagreements." 
As soon as you catch yourself, your brain makes a stop, yet your mouth continues to pour out what's making your heart strain as much as it is currently. "There's already enough of that in the world waiting out there for Frisk when they grow up, so the least I can do is make it a little easier for them right now." Your mind hates you at this point, though you can feel the rest of your body grow lighter, tension releasing itself from it. "That's why… why I didn't really try to stop Jerry when he started to drift away; when visits became just once a month, rather than twice a week. We didn't really get along well after we (had/adopted) Frisk, so that's why… That's why I figured it was best to let him go."
When you hear your voice turn weak, you stop, mind sending endless comments of disapproval into your thoughts. You flinch when you have a napkin offered out to you, but you take it when you see Sans nod, still waiting for you. He then pulls back quickly, still avoiding your touch. "So, what I'm gettin' at here's that you feel just as responsible as Frisk did over what happened that day," he says, voice low and tone solemn. "Or at least, that's what it looks like."
Sans stops and looks behind you. The same waiter from before appears next to you and places your dessert first and later his; once more, you thank him and wait until he leaves the table. When he's gone, your companion speaks up again, setting the plate aside to focus on you more. "Don't wanna assume things right off the bat, but…" He takes a pause, picks up a fork, and pierces it through the pastry. Then, he faces you, continuing with, "You kinda feel like you've gotta make up for that? Limiting yourself that much ain't really the best option there is, though."
You hum, face away, and pick up a portion off your dessert to distract yourself from him. "I just don't trust myself enough to make the right decision again." You take the first bite; the sweet's flavour helps you with the situation. 
The harmony of cutlery clicking and outside chatter blend into the background as your conversation with him carries on. While you listen, you take another bite off your dessert to make matters less tense. "Y'know, if this helps, most of us think you did a good job raising the kid." He stops again and brings the cup closer to him. "If you look at it this way, you helped with lettin' 'em make their own choices and decide how to approach monsters back then. In a sense, we're all connected one way or the other -- kinda like how you start off as their teacher, and then take them to an actual school where they'll continue to grow as a person." He sways the drink around and looks down at it for a moment. "And even if it's possible for a kid their age to start shapin' their own mindset and decide what's good, what's alright, and what's not, most of it's still based off what they've been taught so far. They're not fully in control of who they are yet, and that's why it's often a huge responsibility to take -- parenting, teaching, and all that."
He stops again to take a swing from his drink. The view of his skull contorting to allow him a sip was one surprising to watch the first time you saw him and Papyrus eating some of Toriel's vegetable stew the day of the blackout, and even more intriguing the time you invited him over for a meal after finishing with your errands at the school supply. Now that you're seeing it for a third time though, you focus far too much on it, yet you try to brush it off and pay more attention to him. There's plenty of questions present in regard to how monsters worked the way they did -- each different in their own way, given how many types there are -- but you're not quite sure if it would be proper to bring them out so suddenly right now.
"Basically," he continues, setting the drink down. "When you're at that young of an age, you don't have a full understanding of who you are, and that's why it's so important for lil' kids to have good, or at least decent examples for them to follow." He faces you. How direct his gaze feels makes you look away, feeling embarrassment burn your face. "And so pretty much based on how Frisk acted during their time at the Underground, I can tell they've been raised well." His gaze drifts off behind you again, though there's a different look to it this time. In contrast to the one he'd given earlier to acknowledge the waiter's arrival, there's caution present in his irises. "What I'm sayin' here is: you're a good parent, (Y/N). And if you feel like you have to restrain yourself from livin' life, you really shouldn't. You're-"
"Hey, Kevin," a man says, voice coming from behind you. "What did the skeleton say to the hog?" 
The strangeness behind his gaze makes more sense now; the voice that sounds from behind you's far too annoying for it not to belong to trouble.
You hear laughter and another voice reply with, "I don't know, Brayan. What?"
Brayan fakes a swoon and attempts to mimic what you can only assume is Sans's voice, saying, "Oh, you're the exact opposite of me -- all fat and no bones. What a catch!"
More laughter.
"Wait, wait," Kevin says, voice now heard from closer by. "I've- I've gotta good follow-up to that one." Even more obnoxious laughter's heard from him, and a not-so adorable snort comes from Brayan. "I might be fat, but you're the real pig here -- liking me only because of those weird tastes of yours!"
"What's bothering you, mi chicharrón*? You're my type. I'm only saying the truth!
"And I'm done with you, you bonehead!"
One of the two men emerge next to Sans and attempts to push him off his chair to follow-up to their impromptu play, with enough flamboyance and sass to make Shakespeare proud.
You step in, grabbing by the arm who you assume's Kevin and keeping him from finishing his joke. He freezes, though he soon recovers, a grin replacing his surprise. "Hey look, Brayan," he calls out. "Piggy's all angry now!"
Done too quick for you to react, you feel something cold pour over your chest and look to your left to see Brayan with a grin on his face and with an empty glass left on his hand. "Cool off," he says, laughing. 
Before you can process it, something trips his feet and sends his donkey to the ground. 
Both your drink and the skeleton's end up thrown on him as a familiar blue aura surrounds both of the glasses. 
"Wh- What the hell, man?" he shouts, flustered. "Who did that?!"
The human owner of the establishment appears right behind him and brings him into an arm lock. She's just as formally dressed as the bear waiter; a long red dress matches with her lipstick and does the opposite with her light skin and bright ginger hair. The name ‘Jessica’ is spelled neatly on her name tag. "Sounds to me like you're the one who needs to cool off first," she says, pulling him to his feet. Her teeth are clenched and a frown shapes her mouth. "Tell your friend he needs to follow me if he doesn't want the same treatment." She drags both men along with her, leaving you alone with Sans -- plus an audience too big for your liking. 
The brown bear makes his appearance again. A mess of apologies exit his mouth as he rushes over with two new drinks and a towel hung over his shoulder. Sans helps him by taking the latter and approaching your side.
"You okay?" he asks. Carefully, he sets the towel over you, hands moving stiff and awkward when he tries to wrap it around your torso. You bite back a smile at that, his current reticence helping you forget about Brayan and Kevin's actions. Even with how daring he was while flirting, he was inevitably trying his best not to cross unwanted lines with you. "Was it hot?"
Stop.
That word repeats itself over and over in your mind as you use the towel to pull him closer to you, his hands still holding onto it. You take them, let him hold onto your waist, and allow your smile to shine through, heart pounding all the while. "No," you reply, grinning. "But you worrying about me kinda is." You kiss his cheekbone, murmuring a 'thank you, Sans' close to his ear cavity.
The crowd goes wild, whistles and woots being let out as you keep your lips there for a moment, right until you feel his skull turn hot to the touch. When you pull back, his irises are wide, jumpy, and bright, these trying their best to look away from you. He lets go of the towel, steps back, and sits down on his chair while the crowd settles out.
"Uh..." he mutters, short of breath. "No problem, (Y/N)."
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
• • •
*mi (my) chicharrón = Fried pork belly or rinds; a pork dish/snack originating from Hispanic countries.
In this case, it's used as a nickname, like honey, sugar, dear, and all that!
• • •
Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)
@the-simp-express
@nektotersh
@disastrous-l0vebug
@therealchickenjoe
@mintyflakes025
@pandaquick
@timelock97
@candle-creeps
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silence-burns · 3 years
Text
Please Hate Me //part 47
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?
Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter
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There are few things better suited to following a great summoning ritual than stalking a kindergartener and, quite literally, taking the candy out of his chubby little hand.
"Hey, that's mine!" the brat, Timmy, screamed, but had to watch Loki unwrap the popsicle and munch on it.
"Oh, Timmy," you sighed. "I thought a tough kid like you would handle this better."
"Who the hell even are you weirdos?" Timmy considered ending his question with a kick to the shins of one of you, but decided otherwise under the unnerving gaze of the strange man in a green suit. There was something off about him, that much was certain, but little Timmy couldn't wrap his mind around how otherworldly he actually felt.
He looked around, but none of his friends were around yet, and neither were any adults. 
You smiled your beautiful, wicked smile. "Don't fret, Timmy. We've heard all about your deeds, and boy, did we actually love them."
Timmy frowned. His chubby cheeks puffed up just in case it was time to scream. You didn't look like parents of whatever kid he might've recently offended. The pocket money he was getting ;ately from his schoolmates was nothing to worry about. A few bucks here and there weren't a reason for such a direct approach. Okay, those glitter pens he took from that girl last week might cause some bigger stirrup, but she certainly had a different set of parents last time he saw her.
"The hell are you talking about?" the boy settled on a safe approach.
Loki chuckled and leaned down to look him in the eyes. The features of his face started to blur. Timmy frowned, but blinking didn't clear it up. The harder he looked, the more they melted, and molded, and reformed-
"We know what you've been doing, child," the creature's horns grew and curled, just as more and more sets of eyes popped open. "We have our eyes on you."
The shadows deepened, and the world turned colder and eerily quiet. It was the absolute stillness of something deeply unnatural moving right past you.
But Timmy, despite what his teachers might say, was a smart kid. Being a bully and a petty little thief for years without facing actual repercussions of his actions could not be achieved if one didn't know when was the time to run. Timmy knew that time had come and didn't wait for things to unravel any further. His short legs took him surprisingly far in just a few seconds. Loki and you could only watch him go.
"Do you think it'll be enough?" you asked, taking the lollipop from Loki. It was the strawberry flavor. "I certainly wouldn't want to fail our first commission."
"I guess we'll see," Loki shrugged off the spell. "But I'm pretty sure we gave him something to think about. I can send one of the shadows after him to make sure he doesn't pick on our 'client' at school tomorrow. It'll be awhile before they disperse after summoning, so we can make use of them."
"Will they still lead us to the stolen pin though?"
"Without any problem."
And that closed the case. It was a little satisfying, Loki had to admit. 
He was still unsure about the pin, though. There was something off about the type of magic he sensed in the box. Faint as it was, the tang of death and rot was still unmistakable and didn't fit in the mental image of SHIELD's safehouse it was supposed to be stored in. It made the chase after the truth more thrilling.
Loki fixed his suit. It was not the type of fashion he usually preferred, but the way you looked at him in it made it worth it. There was nothing as confidence-boosting as being aware that you’re the eye candy for anyone lucky enough to pass.
"Shall we?" Loki offered you his elbow as the shadows gathered and formed a rough doorway. Beyond it, only darkness swelled. 
Stepping through it was a fight against condensed mist, but at least it had none of the flesh-shredding quality of Bifrost. 
The shadows Loki had called followed the invisible trail of magic the pin left behind after it was stolen. There was little chance of them being wrong or simply misled, Loki had assured you earlier. As beings stuck in a state of half-existence, there was not in the physical realm so often that it could affect their judgement and cover the tracks. Still, even Loki had a moment of doubt when he took in the place the two of you had been led to.
"I think we should've used that chicken," you said, looking around what was unmistakably a forest. A thick, dark, and very old forest. Definitely the type of forest unwelcome to unannounced travelers. 
It did not mean you were scared. You were just aware of a certain, thick atmosphere hanging low in the cold, winter air. Somehow, it was darker than it should've been at that hour. The trees loomed over you, their branches twisted and hanging low enough to strangle. 
Loki kept on patting your arm while your terror grew, and despite ignoring him for a while, you finally decided to turn.
A thick wall of a hedge, painted in a rotting green and sprinkled with half-melted snow, stood tall and guarded whatever was behind it. The branches were woven too tightly together to take even a peek between them.
"Is that a house? In the middle of a forest?" You asked, but no answer came. There was no road leading to the house. The trees encircled the hedge, but didn't interrupt its space, as if that particular spot had been chopped out of the forest. As if the usual rules of logic and nature didn't apply there.
"Strange," Loki muttered to himself as he walked closer. The hedge ran far in both directions, and from the point you approached it, no gateway could be seen. High above your heads, thin swirls of smoke rose into the air. 
"We should walk around and see how to get in." You gestured to the left.
Loki looked up. The hedge loomed a few heads above him. Even if Loki jumped, he wouldn't see above it. He jumped anyway.
And was swallowed by the hedge.
You knew there was something wrong with that forest, and the strange house especially, even before the branches shot out and wrapped around Loki. He only managed a yelp of surprise before he was pulled in towards the impenetrable depth of the bushes. As much as it was reassuring to know that your senses and intuition were as sharp as ever, the time to brag would come later. Using the ace up your sleeve, or rather sword in your pocket, you made quick work of all the choppable branches. 
Loki dropped to the ground. 
"You could've cut off my hand!" He looked in horror at the cleanly cut piece of his sleeve. It had been a close call indeed.
"Couldn't you regrow it?"
Loki stopped shaking off the twigs for a moment. "I'd prefer not to find out, honestly."
The hedge, despite your trimming, was as impenetrable as before. The only thing that changed was the distance you kept away from it. After not a long discussion, you decided to look for a way in.
The little gate looked suspiciously ordinary. The metal rusted in a few spots, mercilessly beaten by years of rain and humidity. The path beyond it winded between neat rows of herbs and vegetables and occasionally flowers you couldn't name. The scent of fresh soil hung in the air as you walked through them. The house itself was neither big or new, but was most definitely haunted. There was no doubt about it. It was obvious in the way the windows watched you approach. In the way the smoke curled lazily through a draft you couldn't feel. In the doorknob in a shape of a hissing bat.
"Do we… knock?" you whispered. For reasons you couldn't explain, you had a feeling the house was listening to every word.
"That's usually how it goes," Loki's reply was equally quiet. He made no move to knock, though.
A hollow hooting was the only warning before a dark shape swooped by your heads and landed over the door. The owl was big, even once it settled and closed the wings. The feathers, in various shades of grey and muddy brown, hid it almost perfectly against the wooden planks of the house.
It was a nice owl, one might think without looking closely. Because under further scrutiny, one would notice the deep gash only partially hidden by the puffed up feathers, and the bones peeking out underneath them. 
You stared at the dead owl and it stared back.
It hooted.
"I know, I said I'm coming!" the voice from inside the house shouted. The footsteps neared. Loki and you braced against whatever you'd have to face.
The door creaked open. 
Many thoughts had passed through your mind, but one thing you didn't expect to see was a spotty-faced, alarmingly skinny young man in jeans and a cloud of smoke surrounding him. You got a facefull of an aroma that reminded you of college dorms. You wondered if Loki thought he’d met the wrong end of a skunk. 
"Listen," he said, gesticulating wildly. "I know that y'all always want shit, but my grandma is still on her vacation, and I'm currently busy. She'll surely contact you once she's done, but nothing has changed since last time, and I still don't know when she'll be back."
The owl descended majestically and sat on his still raised hand. The man blinked in mild confusion. 
"I fed you already, don't give me that look, Barbara."
Loki looked at you. You looked at Loki. The owl turned her head backward and noticed both.
"I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure this is the first time we're meeting," Loki forced himself to say after your not-so-subtle nudge to his ribs. "Could we bother you for just a moment?"
"I'm busy, I've got a shift tomorrow and—"
Loki barged in anyway, not interested much in whatever the man had to say. 
The little house turned out to be more of a cottage. Even though some work had been done to restore it and make use of modern inventions, the very core of the cottage stayed the same as it possibly had been for decades, if not longer. 
The herbs hanging from the ceiling to dry filled the air with a pleasant, if a little heavy smell that clung to skin and clothes alike. The huge chimney was full of wooden planks and blasting enough heat from the other end of the large working space to make you regret wearing winter clothing. Whatever was boiling in the huge iron pot hanging over the blazing fire was unlikely to be edible judging by the consistency and color. Or at least you hoped it was not supposed to be edible.
The owl flew in and perched on a chair. 
"Listen, I'd really appreciate it if you could leave me alone," the man groaned, following you. 
He took another drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke, eyes red-rimmed. The owl hissed and moved over the chimney, where she sat with as close to an angry expression as a half-dead owl was capable of. 
To your left, a rather familiar and highly surprising uniform laid along with medical equipment. 
"We'll leave as soon as we get the answers we need," you promised. "And our first question is - who the hell are you, exactly?"
The man blinked. "Are you joking? I thought you were clients."
"What would you sell if we were?"
"I mean," he gestured around. "It's my grandma who deals with potions, but I suppose I could give you a medical check up if you need one? And don't worry if you're dying, that's even better, I've got that covered too. Just make sure to come to me before the decay starts, and I'll put you back on your feet in no time."
"Wait, I'm confused," Loki frowned. "Are you a doctor or a necromancer?"
"My dude, I have no idea where you've been the past few decades, but if you think med staff is capable of making a living from just one job, you honestly should get a reality check. Look around - I literally still live with my grandma and don't even get me started on how much debt I still have to pay off with those stupid side jobs."
"You mean, resurrecting pets?" You looked at the owl. Barbara was not blinking.
"Listen, I'm at the point of my life where I don't ask questions. I just need the money. I want to move out. Have you any idea what it is like to live with your 260 year old grandma who has a better social life than you?"
The silence was a little awkward. 
"Precisely."
Loki wanted to take a deep, steadying breath, but whatever the young man had been smoking didn't sit well with Loki's lungs.
"I must ask though, are you raising the dead because you're such a terrible doctor, or is—"
"Paperwork."
Loki blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Have you any idea how much paperwork follows every death? I'd rather bite off my hand than do any more extra unpaid time than I absolutely have to." The man sat at the table and produced a stash of pot from somewhere. With slow, precise movements he started to roll another blunt. You bent your knees to see under the table, but couldn't find any hidden drawers.
Loki nodded at the man’s comment, although he was nowhere near possessing that kind of knowledge. Deaths that he usually participated in involved little to no paperwork.
"Was this involved in one of your recent side-jobs?" Loki put the little wooden box on the table.
The man shook it before opening. Only after sniffing it did the look on his face change to recognition. "Yeah, I think it was. I was paid to get a pin from it. I don't know what happened to it afterward, though. The client just paid and disappeared."
"How did you get it?"
"Mice."
"What?" Loki asked. You looked around, just in case. 
"No one cares about mice, especially in huge warehouses. That makes them perfect for the job, especially if they're controlled properly."
The dead owl hooted in agreement. Loki had an idea how the mice had been initially caught.
"That complicates our case," he whispered to you.
"Who paid you?" you asked, hoping that the answer wouldn't be...
"I don't know," the young man shrugged. "Some guy in a trenchcoat and lots of shiny money. My favorite kind of a client."
The man suddenly had a few golden coins out and in his hand. You hadn’t even seen his hands go under the table that time. The coins were heavy and most definitely not fake, although you didn't recognize any of the symbols they bore.
Loki did. 
"Do you think that agent of yours will cover any extraterrestrial expenses?" he asked, watching the reflexes shine on the golden surface.
"Where are we going?"
"To the biggest black-market-turned-casino-turned-complete-mess of a planet in the universe."
"How lovely," you said.
Barbara agreed, hooting happily as she hopped off the chimney and landed on Loki's shoulder. 
"Take her." The young necromancer yawned sleepily. "She hates me anyway. Just remember not to give her any pickles. She's got terrible gas."
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rosebloodcat · 3 years
Text
Toonkind Storyline Idea
Not too long ago, I got an interesting idea for a DnD storyline thanks to some interesting spells I found in the Player’s Handbook. I’ve also been listening to the Toonkind DnD recordings as well. So, as one would expect, the two have been slowly melding together into (what I think) is a fun/interesting story that could be played.
The only awkward thing about it is that I’m not actually in the Toonkind Discord (I’ve got my eye out for the next invite link and I’m praying I’ll be online and aware enough to join in then), so I can’t really share the idea and see if anyone would be up for it. This awkwardness is only increased by the fact that a character I want to see/use for it is one that isn’t mine.
Because of that, this idea has just been festering in the back of my head for several days now and I just- Need to talk about it now.
Like, the fear of possible embarrassment is being replaced by the pure need to talk about this. It’ll probably just sit in my posts/notes forever and not get used, but I want to have it down and out there. (Keeping hopes/expectations low on that front.) I mean, what are the chances that, even if I At’d the players here on Tumblr, they would actually read through the idea? Or want to talk with me about it? Pretty low as far as I can tell.
So honestly, there’s nothing actually stopping me from just rambling into the aether about this. Might as well go for it.
Anyways, let’s get into the meat of this.
I’ll start off by telling people that I had been curious about spells to revive/bring back the dead because I was curious about how many there actually were. 
Unsurprisingly, I found four spells that involved reviving/bringing back the dead.
Surprisingly, though, only three of those spells were necromancy spells! (Revivify, Resurrection, and True Resurrection.)
The Fourth spell was called Reincarnate and was a transmutation spell used/learnable by Druids. (If you’re curious about it, you can check out the exact details here! https://www.dndbeyond.com/spells/reincarnate )
A quick summary of it goes like this: If someone has been dead for less than 10 days, you can touch them (or a piece of them) and create a new body for that person and call their soul to it. The spell causes their race/subrace to change, and the new one can be decided by the DM or via Dice Roll. All their abilities and memories stay the same, but their racial stats/abilities are exchanged for ones matching their new race/subrace.
And I thought, “What if this spell (or a variant of it) was used on a character that died in one of the Toonkind games?”
(Also, I realize I should mention this before continuing, Spoiler Warning for anyone who’s never listened to the Taffy Train Saga and the Coup De Blues games? This involves characters from those.)
I can’t think of too many toonkind characters who are actually Dead-Dead, but I do have one that I have a little bit of a soft spot for. One who was killed in the very same game he was introduced in.
Victor Tim, the (very dead) accountant for Dodo Studios.
(Who has been played by both @modmad and @snailcomicz and I’m not sure which of them he actually belongs to, so I guess he just goes to both for now. I know he was presented as a tool/not very liked character, but I just found him weirdly charming. I can’t explain it if I tried.)
Thus, the seed of an idea was planted in my brain.
What if Victor Tim was brought back from the dead by someone using a variation of this spell? Either as someone experimenting with magic or something. Heck, it could even be done with a machine instead of a spellcaster. (I’m not opposed to the “Illegal or at least Unethical Science” route for a villain. Seeing if they can expand the limit for how soon the spell can be used.)
I mean, considering the chaos brought by Dora Z Scale after the Taffy Train, would it really be so crazy to say that someone took advantage of it?
Someone could have noticed Dora robbing graveyards, seeing that the reports on it were few and far between, and decided to piggyback off her and snatch up remains in her wake. Get some free test subjects that didn’t need to sign waivers whilst everyone was focused on the Engineer and later Dora drama in the papers. Of course, they could have also been a bit more careful and waited until after Dora was captured/arrested before starting their experiments. To give more time for people to forget about them (if they had been spotted during that time) and let their focus be taken up by the former actress instead.
And it probably took a while before they got around to Vic, likely from how little they had of him due to Dora drinking a large portion of him. The Perp probably took their time refining their materials/process since they didn’t want to lose what little they had of him.
All things considered, the extra grave robber probably wasn’t noticed for a long time thanks to the sorting that needed to be done with Dora’s undead army. After figuring out who came from where and sending them back to their proper graves, I’m sure the police were very surprised to find that there were still a number of graves that remained empty.
That lovely little problem was probably kept buried to prevent the public from panicking/getting the police in even more trouble. Especially if The Engineer or Mrs. Tim found out that Vic’s remains were among those missing.
(Not to mention the field day the press would have about it. Like that one, very intrepid young reporter. The one with the dog, you know who.)
I’d say that Vic, when brought back, is still a toonkind but probably a different subrace. (Maybe a Frankenalie? Or a Warne? Unless Mod or Snail see this and think of something that would be more fun/interesting.)
He also probably has no idea what’s going on. Just that he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to be dead but somehow he’s not and he’s stuck somewhere he doesn’t recognize and are both his eyes facing forward? And “Oh no this is bad. I’m pretty sure there is a bad thing happening and I’m alone with no help, oh no, oh no, oh no.”
Because definitely not-okay, illegal/unethical experiments tend to mean the “Subjects” are basically captives/prisoners of the person responsible and need to either be rescued or find a way to escape.
Both routes could go in fun/interesting directions.
Cause, on one hand, there’s the possibility of getting the info out and having Engie pulling/being part of a rescue mission, or at least someone from the studio/Taffy Train may want to check it out. (I mean, who fakes being a dead guy? That’s weird enough that someone would want to look into it.)
On the other hand, there’s also the fun of Vic managing to bust out with the help of other victims in the same situation. Which could actually be a cool set of stories/games to be played. (I’d- I’d actually love to make a character to play that out if I’m being completely honest here. I may have one slowly being drafted out in my head as I type this.)
There’s also the potential hitch of Vic having to try and convince people/prove that he really is Victor Tim, the guy who was murdered by Dora Z Scale. Or that Vic’s note/message really was from him. Even more so if Vic’s talking to people who actually knew him before. (Powerful potential Angst and feels right there if they don’t believe him. Or it could be really funny, depending on how it’s played.)
There are also some fun shenanigans that could happen too. Mostly from Vic trying to figure out how his new race/abilities work. Like (if he was a warne)  accidentally using Expeditious Retreat and yeeting himself into a wall. Or (if he was a frankenalie) getting into a heated argument with an animal via Speak With Animals but not knowing it.
(“Uh, Vic?” “Wha- Oh! Sorry,  I was caught up talking with this guy-” “Vic, you’re talking to a dog.” “...Oh. Suddenly this makes a lot more sense.”)
But- yeah. That’s my idea for a potential storyline for Toonkind DnD, Victor Tim brought back from the dead but not as a Yupyaen and all the possible chaos that could entail. 
Honestly, I have more thoughts on the story, but it’s one of those things that would probably go better if I was able to talk with others about it.
This will probably sit in my posts for who knows how long and never actually get used/played, but I have said my piece now. Who knows, maybe I’ll use the initial idea in something and just remove Vic from the equation.
(... It would be cool if I actually got to use/play this in Toonkind though.)
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amor-immortalem · 3 years
Text
My Adoring Fan Chapter 5
Chapter 4
A/N: A bit of a fluffy chapter as the twins make up
As Aurelius entered the kitchen, both Azalea and Mammon turned their heads to him.
“There ya are,” Mammon says as he leans against the island counter. “Only three hours after your Ma called for you, but, hey, at least you came home.”
“You’re not going to yell at me too, are you?” He asks.
“Well, that depends. Do ya know why what ya did was wrong and do ya understand why you’re being punished for it?”
Aurelius nods. “Yes.”
“Then no, there’s nothin’ I need to say that ya probably haven’t heard from your mother already.” The oven dings and Mammon goes to pull the peppers out and places them on a plate for his son. “Here, have somethin’ ta eat before we leave.” Aurelius nods as he grabs a fork and starts eating.
“Leave?” Azalea asks as she looks between them. “Leave where?”
“Home.” The demon says as Azalea looks surprised. “What, you thought we were bluffin’ when we told you two that if you had one more spat like this that we’d be pullin’ one of ya from the house? Your Ma and I can’t keep coming over here every two or three nights to diffuse a situation between the two of ya like this because ya can’t seem ta learn ta get along. An’ since Aurelius started this by going along with Zulima’s hair-brained idea, he has to move back home until we think he’s learned his lesson.”
“So Aurelius gets punished while Zulima gets away scott-free?”
“No, of course not. Solomon was here earlier ta dish out her punishment and Uncle Asmo will be here shortly ta decide how long whatever her punishment was will last and talk with her about why this was wrong in the first place. Their startin’ to get up fed up with her actions too and this is probably your cousin’s last chance ta prove she can shape up before they pull ‘er out of the house too.”
Azalea turns to her brother with an apologetic look.
“I'll let ya have a few minutes ta talk privately and then we’ll be leaving.” The Avatar of Greed steps out since he knows his children won’t honestly speak their minds if someone is listening.
“Listen,” Aurelius says as he leans his head against Azalea’s, the black streaks in their hair pressed together. It’s a thing they’ve done ever since they we little. “I’m really sorry about this. I knew it was wrong and I still did it anyway. Are you still mad at me?”
“A little bit.” The older cambion sighed, “You didn’t send that audio clip to Max, did ya?”
“Yeah, but if it’s any consolation, she didn’t listen to it and deleted it instead. You really should tell her though. I think you’d be really happy. She definitely likes you back.”
“Why did ya do it? I feel so betrayed.”
“I told Mum that I was just bored but really it was because I was getting annoyed with Zulima talking about how much she quote-unquote ships you two and wishes you’d just get together already...”
“I get that. She can be rather persistent.” Azalea sighs. “If that’s the only reason then I guess I really can’t fault ya for it... How long are ya gonna be gone?”
“Until the end of next term. I’m grounded too for taking so long to get back here, so I’m losing my phone and I won’t get to do any photoshoots for the next three months... I’m think of quitting all together when my contract is up actually. The time off will give me a chance to really decide.”
“Majolish is gonna be really mad that they’ve lost their top model,” Azalea laughs softly. “Hey, the reason ya wanna quit is ‘cuz of that letter, right?”
“Yeah, a little bit.” Aurelius hums. “Actually, while I was running from you, I think I met the sender of that letter- well more like I plowed into her as I was running away. She didn’t seem all that crazy and claimed she didn’t know who I was but I don’t know, I got some really weird vibes so I think she was lying.”
“Hey, I just thought of this but doesn’t that girl who hounded you to start a relationship with her reside at the House of Sorrow? Maybe she’s the one who sent that letter so she wouldn’t have any competition for your attention.”
“I didn’t think of that. It would make sense, actually. “Do you think I should write her back and say I know it was her? See if it was really her and give her a chance to come clean?”
“Why don’t ya do it at school? We’re all bound to have classes with her at some point in the day so being able to get her alone and there be no chance for interference sounds like the perfect opportunity. What’s her name? Is she pretty?”
“She introduced herself as Persephone- you know like that greek myth and yeah she is. Funnily enough, she looks a lot like that idol that Henry was crying about earlier. Her hair and eye color are the same shade of grey as that idol’s.”
“That’s really interesting, actually. When I was talking with Henry earlier, I proposed the idea that maybe she was taking a break to enjoy a normal teen life so I wonder if I was right. Maybe this is something you could actually pursue as far as a relationship goes... If she is that idol then she wouldn’t be interested in dating you for our family’s prestige, fame, or money since she has plenty of her own to begin with. I know you’re lonely just like I’m lonely.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” Aurelius pulled back. “I do want to find a mate eventually, but I also just want to survive RAD first before I start looking. It would be nice to have someone that looks at us in the same way Dad looks at Mum- with nothing but love and adoration but not a lot of demons really like us. They mostly just tolerate our existence.”
“You’ll get that eventually.” Azalea smiled. “I mean I got my person so you should too sooner or later, right?”
“Yeah, we-”
“Aurelius, what’s with this letter you have?” Arella asks as she enters the kitchen. “This really worries me, Sweetheart.”
“I got that today actually and I think I know who sent it, but also I’m starting to suspect she wasn’t actually the one who sent it. I’m going to meet with her at school to clear the air over it.”
“I don’t think that’s a very safe idea, Aurelius. From the verbiage in this letter, she could be stalking you. I know from experience with Dad and Uncle Asmo that people like this will do anything to ensure they're the only ones who have your attention.”
“I promise I’ll be safe, Mum. But I have to find out for sure if it’s her or....” the teen trails off and Arella doesn’t like the sound of that.
“Aurelius, has a classmate been harassing you, Darling?”
“Yeah... I didn’t want to tell you and Dad because I didn’t want to worry you guys... it’s been a thing for a while. You would think after rejecting her for the thousandth time, she would get the hint...”
“What’s been a thing?” Mammon asks as he pops his head in the doorway. “C’mon, Buddy, let’s go home.
“Our son is being harassed by one of his classmates and he didn’t want to tell us for fear of worrying us. Also, he received this rather alarming letter today in the post.”
“What? Lemme see that thing.” He takes the piece of paper in his hands and scans it over, eyebrows raising in alarm. “Aurelius this is not okay.  Is this the person whose been botherin’ ya?”
“Maybe...? I can’t really be sure. The implied sender isn’t the person whose been bothering me at school rather a girl that just transferred to RAD but I think it might have been forged by that person so I would avoid the sender at all costs. I want to meet her and confirm whether or not it’s really her.”
“You absolutely will not be doin’ that.”
“Dad I-”
“I said no. Aurelius, ya have no idea how dangerous people like this really are. I’ve had someone like this threaten your mother’s life multiple times back when we had first started officially datin’. Even Uncle Asmo got the same thing when he and Solomon went public with their relationship and other demons found out they had a kid together. I think combined, your uncle and I got close ta a thousand of these types of letters. It got so out of hand that at one point Uncle Lucifer had to step in and deal with it for us. This spells out nothing but trouble for ya and I don’t want ya getting' hurt by some nutcase that has a few bolts loose in the head.”
“Dad, you’re overreact-”
“No, I’m not, you’re not doing this and that’s final. I still have every single one of those letters and I’ll let ya read the worst ones to show ya just how dangerous something like this can get. Believe me when I tell ya this is not something ya want to deal with. And I’m warning you right now. If you get another one of these types of letters, I’m pulling ya out of modeling until you’re at least 1700 years old.”
“But what about my contract? Won’t I get penalized for breaking it?”
“We had a clause put in the fine print that if your father and I felt you were unsafe or were not benefitting from it emotionally or physically for any reason during the term of your contracts, that we had the right to terminate them at any point in time for your safety.” Arella explained.
The teen only sighs. He knows he should listen to his father but there’s something nagging him at the back of his mind. “Alright, I won’t do it.”
“Thank you.” Arella let out a relieved sigh. “We should get going now. It’s late enough as it is and your father and I both have to work in the morning. Give your sister a hug if you wish.”
The twins nodded as they moved to give each other a hug.
“See ya at school, I guess.” Azalea sighed. “Sorry I got ya booted back home.”
“It’s fine. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t started it. Love you.”
“Love you too.” They let each other go and Aurelius headed off with their mother after Azalea gave her a hug goodbye.
“Are ya good ta go back down the stairs in your room without sliding down the railing? Your room is messy and I don’t want ya tripping and hurting yourself over a pile of books. Ask your cousin to help ya clean it tomorrow.”
“I think so. If I need it, I’ll just guilt Zulima inta helping me. She owes me after that trick she organized.”
“Okay,” the demon chuckles as he pulled his daughter into a hug. “I’ll come back ta check on you when I get back from the fourth layer with your brother. Make sure you use that cane, please. It’ll only benefit you, kiddo. I love you.”
She nodded as she let her father go. “Love you too. See ya then...” Azalea watched them go before going to put the plates in the sink and climbing the stairs. She stopped at Max’s doors and knocked, knowing it was about the time she’d be getting ready to bed. When she heard a soft ‘come in’, Azalea pushed opened the door.
“Hey...” She says as she walked in and closed the door. “We should talk...”
------------------------------------------------------
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cupcakemolotov · 3 years
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Wild Hunt
I think I promised @goldcaught a Klaroline Fae fic years ago. This one has been in the works for a while, let's not talk dates, but 2020 definitely slowed production down. I promise, the second half will not sit languishing in my WIP for too long! The biggest, most heartfelt thank you to Kiry, who has been both a cheerleader and a kick in the pants as needed to get this thing on track to being finished. Kiry doesn't sleep, but I can't complain too much, since they have kindly listened to me complain until the wee hours of the morning. (And also my girl @klarolinedrabbles who saw a super early version of this and was kind enough to be encouraging.)
Edit; And I failed to tag @kirythestitchwitch directly, but you know, today was a trip.
A couple of notes to avoid confusion:
Fae: A word used in this fic to generally reference a type of European mythological beings. Sean O'Connell: Cami O'Connell's Twin.
Synopsis: Killing Tyler Lockwood starts a chain of events that put Caroline exactly where she's always dreaded and longed to be: in the arms of Klaus Mikaelson.
Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - FaeAlternate; Universe - Soulmates; Fae!Caroline; hybrid!Klaus; Minor Character Death; Blood and Gore; Mild Gore; Implied/Referenced; Torture; Psychological Torture; Canon-Typical Violence; Compulsion; Blood and Injury; Blood Drinking
Hand pressed tightly against her side, Caroline took several careful breaths, her lungs burning and her pulse a steady thump in her ears. Her senses were hyper alert, magic straining to catch the faintest hint of a disturbance. All around her, humans slept soft and cozy in their beds, and the night had gone quite. As the silence continued to hold, she allowed herself to relax, letting the cold of the concrete at her spine cool her flushed and fever warm skin. For the moment, she was safe.
Reaching up, she rubbed her breastbone, lips curling into a small, pleased smile at the burn. Her father was angry. If she survived the night, that alone would make the pain of her injury worth it. Thankfully, the knife wound felt like it had finally stopped seeping, and her glamour would hide the blood. It was the iron poison that was going to cause her complications. The black spider web crawling up the line of her ribcage hadn’t made it close to her heart, she was her mother’s daughter too, but it weakened her all the same.
It left her in a magical disadvantage.
Grimacing as her phone buzzed silently in her pocket, she pressed a little further into the concrete behind her and looked around. There was nothing to suggest her cousins had been able to track her, though that was just a matter of time. Thankfully, even suffering from iron, she had enough control of her magic to hide the glow from her phone, though she didn’t quite dare to risk more.
Not yet.
Pulling it free from her pocket, she winced at the number of missed calls and quickly scanned the texts that had accumulated.
Bonnie (12:45 AM): Hello???
Bonnie (12:46 AM): You’re not dead.
Bonnie (12:46): Are you ignoring me?
Bonnie (1:10 AM): I swear, I’ll put Enzo on a plane. With the time differences, he’ll be there before dawn.
Bonnie (1:10 AM): Then you’ll have to listen to him complain about airplane food while he tries to kill people.
Bonnie (1:11 AM): I might do it anyway. I could use the alone time.
Wincing, because Bonnie Bennett did not bluff, she hurriedly tapped out a response.
Caroline (1:11 AM): I’m alive.
Bonnie (1:11 AM): What happened?
Caroline (1:11 AM): It was a trap.
Bonnie (1:11 AM): How bad?
Caroline: (1:12 AM): I’ve mostly stopped bleeding and Tyler is dead.
Very dead. She’d made sure of it. There was a lot someone like her father would do with a dead body, so she’d made a point to separate his head from his body so he couldn’t be resurrected. Baba Yaga spells were rare and costly, but if anyone could get their hands on one, it would be her father. It was why she’d then dumped her stash of holy water on the body and then carefully dusted him in iron shavings, rendering his body and his blood unusable.
The little dots below her conversation on her messenger app popped up and died several times, and Caroline closed her eyes, letting her head fall back as she waited for Bonnie’s response. She’d know that coming to Chicago was a risk, for a number of reasons, but even at her most pessimistic she wasn’t sure she could have guessed just what she’d find here.
What could possibly have led Tyler to be so desperate that he would trust her father? Tyler, who was one of the few people who knew the truth of her origin, who had hugged her when she’d said goodbye and told her he would always care about her. Tyler, whose blood she now wore beneath her nails, who had stabbed her with an iron knife and who had died with hate in eyes.
Her phone buzzed and she glanced down.
Bonnie (1:13 AM): Klaus is in Chicago.
Caroline stared at her phone, surprise and a shot of adrenaline leaving her momentarily breathless. Klaus. Here. In Chicago. The city where Bill had set up his most recent plots, where Tyler had attempted to betray everything that had once made him a good man. Sliding her teeth along her lip, she very carefully typed her reply, her fingers shaking.
Caroline (1:14 AM): You said he was in London for the next month. What changed?
Bonnie (1:15AM): I don’t know.
Bonnie (1:16 AM): Do you need an exit?
Bonnie (1:16 AM): He owes me.
Caroline was shaking her head even before she started typing. Being anywhere near Klaus was a terrible idea, and Bonnie knew that. That her friend would never make the offer unless she thought it necessary left dread sitting low in her stomach.
Caroline (1:16 AM): What’s got you spooked?
Bonnie (1:17 AM): Someone is blocking my scrying spells.
Caroline (1:17 AM): Bill?
Bonnie (1:17 AM): If we’re lucky. We both know what it means if we’re not.
Caroline’s fingers tightened on her phone case, her pulse loud in her ears. Bonnie was right. Very, very few things blocked her from seeing what she wanted to see. Bill could do it thanks to the blood bind but it wasn’t easy, and he never managed it for long periods of time. Grams probably could have done it. But the list of powerful witches who remained alive in the United States after the purging of New Orleans was short.
There was only one reason Bill would use the blood connection between them to block out any outside magic from interfering tonight. She hadn’t just pissed her father off, she’d actively disrupted his plans, and thanks to Bonnie’s magical brilliance, he couldn’t track her easily. But there was another way to drag her to a Fairy Court, and she would have to move very quickly to avoid it.
Baring her teeth in a mimicry of a smile, she gave herself a moment to feel a sharp burst of satisfaction. She had a list on her phone of her father’s potential means of retaliation, and Wild Hunt was right there at the top as the worst possible outcome, but it also meant Tyler must have been far more integral to his plans than she’d guessed. Even knowing that her chances of survival had just taken a serious dip, it did little to dim her pleasure. If she was very, very lucky her father’s precious Queen would feel the need to take out his failure on him directly.
A girl could hope.If she survived the night, she was going to find a fancy bottle of wine and pick up a cupcake. Maybe two cupcakes. She deserved the mini-celebration.
Caroline (1:20AM): I spotted half a dozen of my cousins tonight. I don’t know who holds their allegiance but it probably won’t matter. If Bill is super pissed, he’ll call them all.
Bonnie (1:21 AM): Fuck.
Bonnie (1:21 AM): If it goes bad, don’t be an idiot. Use Klaus.
Caroline (1:21 AM): No.
Caroline (1:22 AM): Favor or not, I killed his hybrid. He doesn’t strike me as forgiving.
Bonnie (1:22 AM): He’s not.
Bonnie (1:23 AM): You don’t have to tell him.
Caroline (1:23 AM): Uh huh. I’ll call you when I’m safe. 🤦😘❤️🏃
Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Caroline exhaled slowly at the bite that was her warning that her magic was nearly tapped dry. Giving herself another half-a-dozen heart beats to celebrate her first major victory, she turned her mind to her problem at hand.
Bonnie had good reason to be worried. It had been almost thirty years since the Queens had summoned a wild hunt to drag one of the half-Fae home for punishment. Bill had made a point to tell her in great details the torture that had awaited her cousin, the way the Queen had plucked his body and his mind apart for his treachery.
Caroline doubted she had become enough of a problem that the Queens would send the hunt, which meant that Bill would be expending a great deal of power to collect her. Her lips twisted, finger tapping silently against the side of her phone. Fae magic was powerful, and so was her father, but it could be circumvented. She needed to concentrate on that, put together her plan.
Pissing her father off twice in one night would normally be her highest priority, but instead what she wanted to think about was the message Bonnie had given her.
 Klaus Mikaelson was in Chicago.
Anticipation was a tantalizing thrill in her veins. She’d hoped the truth of New Orleans would have helped her grow out of her strange obsession. Instead, it left her wanting to know more. It was a struggle, when all she had to do was text Bonnie and ask for a location. She could then finally indulge in the bone deep curiosity that had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. Maybe figure out the cause of her obsession with a monster she’d never met.
She might’ve, if only doing so tonight wouldn’t put everyone she cared about in danger.
Caroline slid her lip between her teeth, letting the small hurt ground her. If she thought her father hated her enough to call down a Wild Hunt now, exposing the Fae’s secrets to Klaus would make his rage burn even more bitterly. She’d honestly have done it years ago out of spite if such a move would only put her in the crosshairs of the courts, but it wouldn’t.
Bonnie and Enzo would also be marked.
The High Courts currently considered her rebellion to be a family matter, though one Bill was unable to control adequately. She could not risk a Queen deciding she was her enemy in truth, not yet. Not when she was so close to figuring out how to banish her father permanently to the otherside of the Veil.
She’d be thrilled to just killing him, but she long since accepted that might not be possible. Tyler had been right, when he’d called her a monster. When he’d called all of them monsters. He just hadn’t understood that for all of the terrible things in this world that there were worse fate’s hidden behind the veil in between the worlds, horrors lovingly encouraged in Underhill that could break a human mind merely with their existence.
Earth had pushed the Fae back with their iron and religion all those years ago, had sealed the veil with witch magic, and humanity considered themselves victorious. But the truth was all they had done was defer the fight for the territory the Fae claimed as theirs to own to a different day.
The Fae hadn’t forgotten humanity nor had they forgiven them for their defeat. Banished behind magic, the Fae watched and watched and hungered. They had waited for the time that they had truly passed into myth, until the world forgot how to defeat them with a dangerous patience. But the nature of the Fae was as capricious as it was violent, and not all agreed on waiting.
Some had altered their plans and plotted a different course of action.
The Great Experiment.
Caroline supposed she should be grateful for that impatience, it was the reason for her existence, but all she could muster just then was a familiar anger. For six hundred years, members of the High Courts had mingled their blood among humans, hoping to breed children with resistance to both iron and the religion, the tools that had locked them away from the world that had once been theirs. And their plan had produced some success, though not always how they had hoped.
She was one such success.
Elizabeth Forbes had never been comfortable with her half-Fae child, but she’d also refused to abandon her to a world filled with monsters. Instead, she’d taught her daughter the good and the bad of humanity, had shown her the world as it was and what it could be. Her father saw her as a tool, a means to an end. Her mother’s love had been gruff and uneasy, but she’d tried.
She would never, ever forget that.
Or forgive Bill for her death.
Caroline had defied her father and his magic, had pitted herself against his will as she vowed vengeance for killing the one thing she’d ever claimed as her own. Her mother.
Hunting Bill required care and a meticulous eye for detail, and a particular stubbornness she had in spades. His magic was more powerful than hers, but he had always underestimated his only child by Liz, brushed her off as not powerful or clever enough for his schemes. It’s been a deliberate decision of hers to hide what she was capable of, hoping that such a ploy would save her mother. Now, she used her magic against him with the same ruthlessness he had taught her as a child.
But she was just one half-breed among hundreds, and so she’d learned to be careful. She wasn’t even the most powerful of those born on this side of the veil and underhanded ambush tactics had always served her better than brute force. A disruption there, a few dozen murder’s here. Just enough to skew her father’s chessboard while she worked to uncover the truth of his plotting. The fewer of her cousins who were able to carry out the will of her father and his fellow full blooded Fae’s plots, the safer humanity was from a terrible strike.
But she couldn’t kill them all, though she’d certainly tried. Her family did not die easily, and magic lingered in places of terrible violence like fingerprints. Each kill was a risk that could lead to her death. Over the years, it’s become clear that if she wanted to destroy her fathers plots, she couldn’t do it alone. The tie that connected them, the thread that burned so clearly now in her chest with her father’s rage, meant that she’d never be truly safe from him. Blood ties were not easily broken.
But Caroline knew witches, so she’d returned home, to the place where the only people she trusted still lived. Tyler had already been gone by then, lost in his need for vengeance, but Bonnie had been there, lingering in the ashes of conquest almost as if she’d been waiting.
It was then that Caroline had learned that humanity's greatest monster had become its potential savior. That the true potential of Ester’s terrible offspring had finally been unlocked. Klaus Mikaelson had broken his curse.
Her fingers curled into her palms, the strange, bone-deep curiosity that ground her joints together every time she thought of his name a familiar sensation. Klaus had broken his strange Sun and Moon curse in the forest she knew so well, had cut a bloody path through everyone who tried to oppose him, and laid the foundations for the army of hybrids he was determined to build. His perfect army that feared neither sun nor death and were unnaturally loyal.
Hybrids that Bonnie had helped create.
Her best friend rarely spoke of the events that led to the creation of the hybrids, refusing to give Caroline even the smallest detail of how a hybrid was made. Even tucked away in her home in Maine twenty years later, hidden by both Fae and witch magic. Caroline might not have the hows involved, but she knew the whys.
It all circled back to Bill.
Liz hadn’t been the only causality of her father’s hunger for power, just the first in their small town. Murdering Sheila Bennett had been a mistake in that it had set Bonnie against Bill, but it fit the pattern Caroline was starting to see in her father’s plans. Liz had been human, but one whose family had been deeply entrenched in the supernatural for generations. Sheila Bennett had been powerful, but she’d been born of the witch line that had created the Otherside. Gram’s had made sure her death had cost Bill, but it hadn’t been enough to stop his plans as Tyler’s presence tonight had proven.
Sometimes, Caroline wondered why Bonnie didn’t hate her. Bill was a scourge that returned time and time again, because her blood allowed it. Maybe if she’d been stronger they’d have been able to protect their families. But what she couldn’t protect, she could avenge.
Bonnie had agreed to help. Had been working on her own plans for years. The first real foothold into Bill’s master plan had been with the Augustine Society. Bonnie had been watching them for months before Caroline’s return, humans who had relentlessly experimented on vampires. They’d staged a rescue for the vampire that had been imprisoned, and it had been Enzo who had known of Tyler.
Tyler who had been the first of Klaus’ successful hybrids, whose loyalty was a shaky thing despite whatever magic bound him to his maker. Her childhood sweetheart who yearned for freedom from the yolk he had chosen. It’d taken months to go through the society’s notes they’d managed to save, to dig into the texts they had been experimenting with.
They’d known so much but understood so little.
But one thing had become crystal clear.
Bill was trying to bring down the Veil. Not unexpected, as most of the Fae worked to destroy it. But Bill also worked to understand what had led to the banishment of the Fae, so he could break it better.
It had been humans, werewolves and witches who had originally created the veil, blocking the Fae Lords from returning in great numbers after their banishment, forcing them to squeeze through cracks when the veil between worlds was thin or use now defunct gates. When iron had slowly lost its grip on the world, they might have managed more but for Qetsiyah.
Bonnie’s ancestor had been clever. When she’d bound the otherside, trapping Amara in stone and Silas forever out of her reach, she’d sunk the power of those souls into the Veil between humanity and the Fae, creating a second anchor. An additional failsafe to guarantee that no Supernatural would be so foolish as to undo her work.
Witch. Vampire. Werewolf. Hybrid. When they died, they were shuffled into Qetsiyah’s chosen afterlife, and their souls protected humanity. Humans were spared that fate, but their very existence acted a detriment to the Fae, as it was humanity who embraced iron.
The fastest way to destroy the Veil would be to free Silas. For a while, she and Bonnie had worried that he would succeed. But no one knew where Qetsiyah had hidden Silas’ body, and for all of her father’s attempts to restart Silas’ little cult, he’d always failed. The last real surge in members had ended when they’d been slaughtered, setting her father back decades.
The only other way to destroy what Qetsiyah had put into place would be to destroy the Veil at the root. And while no one understood the magic that had cast out the Fae so many years ago, her father didn’t need to understand the magic of the Veil to break it. He just needed dominion over it. But that was no easy task. Humans and witches could be bribed or fooled. Werewolves hovered at the brink of extinction. But the children of Esther, the hybrids that now walked the earth, defied every master but one. And so her father gathered his pieces and worked to subjugate Klaus’ creations in secret.
Caroline had tried to save Tyler.
She’d tried to talk him out of the part that Bill needed him to play. He’d refused. And the betrayal had burned like acid in her gut.
It had been Tyler, who had helped her dig Elizabeth Forbes’ grave. Her friend who had given her his gloves when her palms started to bleed, had said nothing when her tears had made her clumsy. It had been Tyler who sat with her and Bonnie, listening as Grams told them of the dangers in the world after Caroline had announced she was leaving. But her friend had died long before Caroline had killed him.
She shivered in the wind.
She knew Klaus played his part in that. It was impossible not to. It had been because of Tyler that she’d ended up in New Orleans, after all. The whispers of the destruction of the city, of how entire witch lines had been lost to madness and death had not adequately captured the horror of it. She’d seen what Klaus had left behind: werewolf packs left in ruin, the survivors turned and bound to his will. Broken witches and terror ridden vampires.
But rarely death. Klaus was not so kind to let his true enemies escape him in such a way. Instead, his wake left behind living ghosts. At least in this, she had done her best by her old friend. Whatever had driven him, whatever horror he had witnessed that had turned him so fully against her, she hoped he could find peace from it now.
She wasn’t so sure she’d be so lucky. Klaus was a spector in her life that she didn’t know if she could escape. And tonight, she’d killed his first hybrid. She grimaced. Klaus would not take to that news kindly. Best if she was long gone when he learned of it.
She wondered if she could manage it. She already felt the pull in her chest, the need to see, to touch, burning through her. It has always been like this. When Grams had first mentioned his name all those years ago, she’d felt the smallest of pulls, a jolt of curiosity. A tug she couldn’t explain. And everytime she thought his name, every time she heard another whisper of the night terrors he created, the tug to search him out grew stronger.
She’d deliberately chosen to look for those horrors once, hoping the truth of his nature would terrify her into running away. Instead, the monster that she had cultivated since she was seventeen and covered in her mother’s blood had approved. The more she learned, the more she wanted to know.
It was why she’d helped Bonnie disappear. Whatever happened between her and Klaus, she was determined to protect her friends from the fall out of it. But she was not the only Fae who hunted for information about Klaus, and Bonnie Bennet had helped create his hybrids.
Her people would destroy Bonnie, if they learned that truth. That a witch from Qetsiyah’s line had once again worked great magic against them would light the fires of their impotent rage for a long, long time. As long as Klaus and his hybrids roamed the earth, it made their chances of winning a war that much harder.
Fae magic was powerful, but given forced limitations by the rules they had to follow. Klaus and his creations were bound by no such things. And they were swallowing the world.
It had been nearly five years since the first hint of a hybrid returning to the US since New Orleans had raced through the Supernatural community. Over the decades, the US communities had watched from a distance as Klaus had bent Europe to his will, his creations breaking across city after city like a wave, choking out any dissent in their paths.
London, Paris, Milan. They all fell at Klaus’ feet with little more than a whimper.
The first real sign of his return had been when he turned New Orleans into a witches' graveyard, and then his gaze had turned to Chicago. Her father was no fool, he had to have known that Klaus had made this city the seat of his power in the States. Bill was far too cunning to risk catching Klaus’ attention unless he had a plan, and not knowing the exact details of what that plan was worried her.
Though she could guess part of it.
A sharp whistle cut through the air, and Caroline’s gaze cut along the rigid angles and sharply jutting corners of the builders around her, but she maintained her hiding place. She had no intention of being flushed out of cover like a bird they intended to net but she needed to come up with a plan.
Glancing at her watch, she grimaced.
It was nearly two in the morning.
If her father had chosen to call a Wild Hunt, she had roughly sixty minutes until the witching hour of three A.M. struck, and the Hunt was let loose. The blood tie to her father might have eroded to the point that he could no longer use it to force her obedience, but they had never managed to break it entirely. Fae magic was tricky. Blood ties more so. Instead, Bonnie had done her best to cloud it, to thin the connection to a single, potent thread.
A Wild Hunt would cut through the witch magic hiding her and return her to her father. Caroline was certain the only reason Bill hadn’t tried to do such a thing before was because of the cost. Calling a Hunt took a great deal of personal power. She would only have one shot of slipping away, and the risk of being caught by her father’s soldiers was dangerously high.
 Klaus was in Chicago.
Her fingers clenched, and Caroline put her phone away. She wouldn’t risk Bonnie or Enzo by going to Klaus, not yet. Not with Tyler’s blood fresh on her hands. But that didn’t mean she still couldn’t use his presence in the city to her advantage. In a game of half-breeds, it always came down to who was the better gambler.
Supernatural cities always had seedy vampire nightclubs and supernatural friendly bars littered throughout. When Klaus had taken over Chicago, he had commandeered several for his own use. But there was one club in particular that she’d pinned down as potentially being part of his stomping grounds; the number of bodies that were secretly removed from the club gave credence to her theory, though she supposed it could just be a place that attracted excess stupidity.
If she was going to have a chance tonight, she needed to go into that club and stay just long enough to let the scent of mingling supernaturals hide her trail so she could slip away undetected and find a place she could hide from the magic seeking her. If she was lucky, Klaus’ potential presence would act as a deterrent.
It was a risk.
Not only because she needed to keep her own blood-lust in check, but because she had never before let herself venture close enough to Klaus to risk catching a single glimpse of him. She was magically exhausted and wounded, the slow crawl of thirst thick in her throat, and her bones ached with the insistent need that made no logical sense.
She would have to be so very careful. Still, for now, her glamour was holding. Setting her teeth, Caroline turned and headed to the heartbeat of the city. Tonight, she’d find a way to live and tomorrow she’d call Bonnie and they’d work out a plan for her to escape. And she’d have to do it without indulging in a curiosity that had no name but was a pulse in her blood.
The rest is here: A03
(I’ll add the link to FFN once I get it posted.)
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halothenthehorns · 3 years
Text
All in the Family
Chapter 143: The House of Guant
They were once again plunged into utter darkness. The sounds of pots and furniture breaking had nothing on the rank smell of unclean rising to all of their noses. Peter squealed in genuine fright upon something slithering across his face as the others lit their wand in time to see the tail of a snake vanishing into a filthy armchair. James had landed dangerously close to a curdling fire, the smoke still in his face making him cough terribly.
The walls were a gray, dirty stone. There was a boiling pot on a grimy stove in the corner Sirius tipped over, the very air hanging in here made them all wish desperately to be anywhere else at once.
Alice summoned the book to her to get started on that.
"Gaunt eh?" Sirius asked in complete disgust for the house still, though something tickled the name in his memories he'd tried to repress. "Hey Reg, help me out, why do I know that?" Surely he could still talk to the kid without being hated further.
"Morfin Gaunt, tenth branch, line died out with him," he repeated on autopilot.
"Right, thanks," he grumbled, no clue why he'd asked, it helped nothing to make this feel better.
"What's Harry doing here?" James demanded, taking careful steps across the room to be back by Sirius, wand held at the ready for every disgusting pile he passed. "Can't be Dumbledore's lesson to bring him here, what's the point?"
"I suppose there's only one way to find out," Alice sighed as she reluctantly turned back to the book.
Remus came out of one of the rooms with such a look of disgust on his face nobody wanted to ask what he'd found in there. Lily came out of the other soaking wet by her own wand she stowed away, like she'd actively tried to rinse this place from her before they even left.
Everyone but the girls continued laughing enthusiastically about Harry's little cheat sheet of a potions book, until Alice leaned up and whispered in Frank's ear and he stopped abruptly with an annoyed frown. The others didn't pay it much mind, shifting around impatiently to find out what the point of being here was even if they gave the place more life than this dung hill likely ever had as they continued whispering about getting their hands on that in their own time to breeze through their OWLs.
Lily bit her lip hard to stop herself falling to the filthy floor for laughing at that. The idea had never occurred to her she would ever want to help the Marauders, but the idea of inventing that Wolfsbane potion herself was still heavily on her mind and she wished now more than ever she had her own copy on her to take notes in. The tempting idea to inform them they were currently muttering about wanting Severus's help even in proxy was just a bit of a bonus she'd privately enjoy.
Regulus' smile slipped a notch though when he heard of some of the oddly specific spells being addressed in the margins of this book. He'd told Lily the truth, he did not hang out with Snape nor really know what they got up to on a regular basis, mostly he just hung around in his room alone looking at the excellent view and doing his homework, reading, or exploring the castle alone, if not on an errand. Even if he did turn a rather blind eye and ear most times to not hear what they were laughing about too in ignorance, what little he had heard made him wish there was an attic at Hogwarts.
Some of those spells though, he'd swear he recognized them coming from Snape himself, who often spent his times writing in a potion book. He shared his ideas with Mulciber and Avery all the time, and they often taught others if they were satisfied with Snape's new ideas.
He watched Evans for a few moments and felt his suspicion all but confirmed when she kept watching the book as if it were personally hitting her in the face. He didn't want to risk missing a word of what Dumbledore said though, and if Evans wasn't telling them he wasn't going to do it for her, so kept his mouth shut.
Alice did indeed have all attention as Harry arrived for Dumbledore's lesson, and explained what exactly Harry was going to be doing with him this year.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Sirius groaned loudly when Dumbledore made to put the first memory in like that was all the explanation needed. "Hearing of his past, are you kidding me? Who the hell cares what he did before he started murdering people for fun?" He could personally speak from experience he wanted no part in someone looking into his past, Harry doing that to them had been awful enough, he couldn't imagine the value of doing so for anyone else, even Voldemort.
"I think it's brilliant," Lily said to him stiffly. "How else are they supposed to learn about their enemy, clearly whatever method everybody else is using isn't working."
Sirius retaliated with grace, but there was a smile on his face as he began hotly going back and forth. Lily even began to relax as well as she shot back for everything he said.
Watching Sirius and Lily's argument escalating, Peter and Remus kept glancing significantly at James like they expected him to step in. He, however, was merely examining his fingers with far too much fascination.
Remus finally cleared his throat awkwardly and asked, "ah, Prongs, you going to...do something about that?"
"Nah," James shrugged without concern, "neither's even pulled their wand out yet, let them sort themselves out."
It was honestly just a nice refresher to James she wasn't yelling at him for once, and Sirius even seemed to be enjoying himself. Considering how well he'd just done not starting a fight, and only guiltily realized out in that shop he'd done it for him again, this felt like old hat! Finally some kind of balance, if Sirius needed to get it out of his system this was probably the best way to do it, neither held any real heat in their argument. She gave some pretty witty retorts, and he was almost curious to see how many different ones she could lob at him before someone gave in.
Instead Prongs pulled Remus back a step and whispered quietly to him, "hey mate, everything okay with you two?"
Remus flushed in the dull lighting and tried not to shift around like a twit, maybe Sirius hadn't spooked off Prongs as well as he thought. "Fine, nothing new to speak of."
"Uhhu," James muttered, clearly unamused. "Look, whatever you two keep going off to do, you're starting to annoy him Remus. I don't know if it was the love potion thing or something else, but could you cut him some slack?" Sirius hadn't been saying anything outright, but ever since he'd come back from the garden he could tell something had sprung up between the two that was bothering them that hadn't been there this whole time. As if they needed another mess to be dealing with!
Remus bit his lip and fought the urge to tell James to stay out of it before reminding himself there was no 'it.' This was his mess and he did need to deal. "Right, sorry," he apologized, thinking ironically James wouldn't blink next time he dragged Sirius off for the opposite reason of why they normally did as he promised in his head to fix this once and for all.
Alice finally cleared her throat to stop the two, watching in a vague sort of amusement as she asked, "regardless of our opinions, can I please get to it? This place isn't getting any more cheerful."
Sirius gave a long, exaggerated sigh and turned in surprise to see James and Remus muttering something, both instantly stopping when they realized the same. "Am I interrupting?" He grinned. "Do you two need some alone time?"
"You think Evans would fall into my arms if I swept Moony off his feet first?" James happily teased back. "She's obviously his favorite."
Remus made his eyes go as widely innocent as possible. "Yes, I'm so sure the multiple attempted murders has just warmed her right up to me."
"Worked on me didn't it?" Sirius smirked.
"You're too easy to please," Remus shot back.
Peter snorted from across the room and James didn't bother to hide his laughter.
Alice was smirking just a bit too when she giggled at Lily, "that wasn't at all what I thought you meant when you said you'd start talking to them."
Lily huffed a bit of hair out of her face and chose not to respond, not exactly wanting to admit how good it had felt to get a little fire out of her system, and Sirius had happily returned.
She finally turned back to the book though and began describing the memory in vivid detail. They all startled in surprise to find themselves back in Little Hangleton, and Remus was first to the door trying to open it in hopes they'd be free of at least this smell.
Blessedly, they were stepping into such a tall, dark grove of trees the bright sun shining down hardly hurt their eyes through the foliage. The snake nailed to the door swung and the house was no more pleasant to view on the outside, but at least it didn't smell as much out here!
The idea being offered that they could make a trip to the haunted mansion in the distance or the graveyard appealed to no one.
Alice sighed in relief to catch her breath out here and sat down in the grass to keep going, but Lily started wandering around in true curiosity what this place had to do with Voldemort. It certainly seemed his type, and now it turned out Tom Riddle's mansion was indeed in the distance, so the connection had a clear line being drawn.
"Oh, horses!" She shouted gaily.
Only Remus went to the edges of the trees to see her delighted shouts as the two grazed in boredom with no clear riders in their saddles.
"They shouldn't be dangerous, look like normal ones, if you want to have a closer look," Remus said off hand, still watching closely. This didn't exactly seem like the kind of house for illegal breeding, ironically, but he still watched carefully just in case.
She needed no further invitation and walked cautiously but openly towards them. Neither creature gave a care to her approach, they were clearly well trained and tamed as she started stroking one's glossy chestnut neck and listening with the first hints of sorrow to leave the house behind her as the gray began nosing her curiously for sweets.
It was completely disgusting to both brothers to realize the line had likely died out because the sister had seemingly refused to have her brother's child, but hardly better she had Voldemort as an offspring instead. Possibly enacting her death from this deranged Marvolo fellow. It was a damn miracle their own parents hadn't managed anymore kids, like a sister for one of them.
Their skin crawled, Regulus retreated farther into the shadows, and fought the urge to purge all pureblood lineage from his mind as his brother had clearly done at such an insight, and Sirius bit his tongue hard to stop the obnoxious comment of asking Moony if he'd be happier if Sirius had been a girl.
They'd known Tom Riddle was only a half-blood thanks to his memory back in the second book, but they'd never have expected to get such details as both of his parents being shown like this though.
When the memory was done and Dumbledore gave his explanation, they all looked around wearily one last time at the beautiful country side, cozy village down in the distance, stately manor hiding the graveyard beyond, and hovel in the bright sun. Who ever would have guessed the destruction of their world could start from such a place.
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thejilyship · 4 years
Text
1. Canon Jily Becoming Friends
I meant to post this yesterday, but it was day three or four of a migraine and I was not able to do that. But here it is! 
This fic is like a broom cupboard fic, but if the castle itself was Sirius or whoever normally locks jily in a broom cupboard. 
WC: 2.5k
“This is your fault,” Lily said, holding her Charms book against her chest as she marched down the corridor, anxious over the fact that she was going to arrive at her class late. She hated being late, it made the back of her neck feel prickly, even if Flitwick had never given her a hard time for anything over the course of her Hogwarts career. She was Head Girl now, and she’d never been late to Charms and so she felt even more anxious than that time she had walked in late to Potions. 
“Of course it is,” James muttered, though despite his languid tone, he was keeping pace with her, and to his credit, he didn’t seem too thrilled about the fact that they were going to be late either. Flitwick wouldn’t shout at them or deduct points in front of the entire class, but he would look at them like he was disappointed, and that was somehow worse. James didn’t do well with people he respected being disappointed in him. 
This extended to Lily. 
“Do you believe that this is somehow, not your fault?” Lily asked, pushing open a large oak door befitting the old castle. She used too much force and it clanged loudly against the stone wall behind it. 
The door slammed shut behind them and Lily turned her head to glare at James, because honestly, that was childish. (Even though she’d slammed it open. Frustration might just be the least rational of all emotions.)
He glared right back, assuming her glare was still about what had happened in the student office. 
It mostly was, but it also wasn’t. 
It wasn’t really about the door either. 
They reached another door in the corridor and Lily hesitated for a moment before opening it, because she couldn’t remember it being there the last time she went down the hall. Perhaps it wasn’t, the castle changed as it wished after all. 
She opened it and less than ten paces from where they were, was another door. The same type. Large, thick, oak and old. Lily tilted her head to the side and looked over at James. “Did I take a wrong turn?” Lily used to have stress dreams about getting lost in the castle on exam days. Today was not an exam day, but being lost with James might be worse. 
Perhaps. 
Probably not. 
“What?” He snapped, too lost in thought to be paying attention to the odd placement of doors. 
“I asked you if I took a wrong turn,” She repeated, turning to face him, a hand on her hip, still hugging her book to her chest. “There are too many doors in this hallway for it to be the right way to Charms.” 
“I don’t even understand why you’re so upset about being late. We’re the Head Students-”
“You’re not listening to me!” Lily threw up her hand, “Like always. Where are we?”
James was about to make a snide remark, but then he looked around, saw the two identical doors so closely placed together and tilted his head to the side. “Well this is strange.” He walked over to the door that they’d walked through and pulled it open. Or, at least he tried to pull it open, but it didn’t budge. 
Lily reached out and tried the other door again, but it decided not to budge either. 
“Are you doing this?” Lily asked, though even as she said it, she didn’t think that he was doing anything to the doors. 
“How would I be manipulating the castle? I mean, I’m thrilled that you think I’m capa-”
“James, what is going on?” 
He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, “I mean, I know that sometimes the doors get funny and lead you to the wrong corridor or something, but I’ve never heard of something like this happening. We’re locked in here.” He looked back and forth between the two doors. “Is the room getting smaller?” 
“What?” Lily started panicking, but then she looked around and shook her head. “No, the room is not shrinking, stop trying to scare me.”
“I’m not trying to scare you, Evans, it is an actual concern I am having.” He had his hand over his heart now and he was taking deep breaths, looking very much like he was concerned about it. 
“Try your door again.” Lily said, reaching out to the door nearest her again. But nothing happened. Not even when she pulled out her wand and tried a few spells that were meant to open doors. When she looked back at James, he shook his head.
“I guess we just have to wait until the door decides to let us out. You shouldn’t have slammed it against the wall like you did.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and then leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was seated on the floor.
“Me? You slammed it too!”
“I did not! You slammed it against the wall and then I jumped in after you, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face as it bounced off the wall and slammed shut. I didn’t know you had such impressive upper body strength.” 
Lily flushed, as she hadn’t meant to slam the door that hard and maybe for another reason. “Do you really think the door is upset with me” She asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek and glancing over at the door. 
James was quiet for a moment and then he started laughing. 
“What?” 
“Are you really concerned that you’ve upset a door?” He asked, his voice still full of mirth. 
“Of course I am, since that door has the ability to trap us in this room forever.” Lily huffed and then slid down the wall opposite of James so that they were sitting across from one another on the flagstone floor. 
“You might have a point, but still, it’s a door. You seem to love it when I’m upset with you, but if a door is upset…” He trailed off, shaking his head. 
“Are you upset with me?” Lily asked, that not sitting right with her. 
“Don’t you want me to be?” James asked, quirking a brow at her. “You’re always shouting at me and blaming me for things I didn’t do and trying to make me feel bad about making you late to class even when it was an accident.” 
There was hyperbole there, and Lily could hear it, but she could also hear the truth in his words. “I honestly just assumed you liked getting under my skin. It didn’t dawn on me that I might have been being a bit… dramatic about the whole thing.”
“Evans, I’m constantly doing whatever I can to make sure that I don’t upset you. I know it’s hard to tell, since you’re always looking for a reason to be upset with me, but still, I do try.” 
“I am not-” She could feel herself getting upset again and she took a deep breath. She looked at him, watching him run a hand through his hair and glance over at her. “You definitely said that to get a rise out of me.” She said, but she said it calmly. 
“No, I said it because it’s true.” He countered. 
“It is not true. I am not always looking for a reason to be upset with you.” He just offered up so many reasons for her to be upset with him that she was often upset with him. But it was his own doing, not hers. 
“Alright,” He sighed. “So in your mind, you think that I go around, thinking of nothing other than ways I can ‘get under your skin.’ That’s how I spend all my free time? When Sirius tosses me a note and it goes too far and hits you in the back of the head, I somehow orchestrated it? When I’m using a book that you were planning on using in the library, you think I somehow read your mind and knew what book you wanted?” 
It all sounded a little ridiculous when he put it like that. But in the moment, it had certainly seemed like he had been trying to bother her. “I didn’t know that Sirius had thrown that note.” 
“Course you didn’t. You didn’t want to listen to me.” 
“Well,” She shrugged her shoulders and huffed. “I mean, you can’t really blame me, can you? You used to go around doing things just to bother me. You might have sto-”
“No I didn’t.” He sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little snitch that he always seemed to have on him, even though he was a chaser. “I know that I’ve pulled some stupid stunts in the past that have, rightfully, angered you, but I never went into any situation hoping that you would walk away pissed.” 
That just sounded completely false. “Really? No situation?” 
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Alright, that’s not fair. There was a few months last year, after we came back from Summer Hols, but only because you were refusing to speak to me otherwise.” 
“Of course I didn’t want to talk to you! I was angry with you!” 
“Yeah,” He nodded, his hand raked through his hair again. “Rightfully so.” 
“Gee, thanks for that.” She rolled her eyes, but for the first time since the incident down by the lake, she could see that he was remorseful about what had happened. That was more than she could say for Severus. He had said that he was sorry, over and over and over, but he wasn't. Not truely. If he was truly sorry, then he wouldn’t still be hanging out with people like Burke and Mulciber, people who were going to be death eaters once they graduated, people who believed that Lily being in school was an offence to them and their pure blood families. 
“I know that was a long time ago,” She said quietly, tucking her hair back behind her ear and then crossing her arms over her chest. “And I don’t mean to get so upset with you all the time. I guess it’s just easier.”
James narrowed his eyes. “Easier than what? Not being upset with me all the time?” 
Lily gave him a small grin and shook her head. “Maybe. Blaming you for a lot of stuff that’s happened these last couple of years though, it’s easier than actually dealing with it.” 
James dropped his head so his chin was touching his chest. “Evans, that’s not fair.”
“Well I thought you deserved it. Most of last year, I thought it was your fault.” 
“Are you talking about Snape?” He asked, looking up at her. 
“Yeah, but not just him saying that word. I tried to blame you for why he would even think to use that word in the first place. I didn’t want it to be his fault I guess, and you were always finding a reason to mess with him.” James opened his mouth and Lily cut him off. “I know that he was doing the same thing.” 
James was quiet. “I’m sorry.” 
“No, stop.” Lily shook her head. “I’m sorry that I’ve spent all morning shouting at you. And that I’ve gotten us trapped in this room. And that I’ve been holding a grudge for too long.” 
“Well, thank you, but I’m sorry too.” James crossed his legs, one of his knees bouncing. “I know that everyone always gave you slack for being friends with him in the first place, but it’s hard to watch someone that you know turn themselves into something you don’t recognize.” 
Lily tilted her head to the side. He was right. None of her friends had understood why she’d hung out with Severus, even before he’d started down the wrong path- or maybe he’d always been on the wrong path. She’d spent a lot of time thinking she could pull him back in the right direction just by showing him the Muggleborns could be the opposite of what his other friends were telling him. She might have worked harder in potions to get competing grades with him, she worked hard in all of her classes so she would have top marks, so that no one could point at her and say, ‘see, it’s because she’s a muggleborn, they’re just not as good at magic.’ 
It was all toxic, it was all heartbreaking. Because she’d asked him before they went to Hogwarts, and he told her that it didn’t matter. He’d lied from the beginning. He made an exception for her, but the moment he got angry with her, he’d used that word. 
“Do you know what that’s like?” She asked quietly. 
James nodded. “I mean, not to the same degree. But I grew up with a lot of these kids. Wilkes and I were friends before his dad threw his support behind a bill that would have limited the number of muggle borns admitted to Hogwarts each year. I mean, we were still friends after that, since we were nine and we didn’t understand at the time. Emma Vanity, Davie Greengrass, we had a lot of lessons together before Hogwarts.” 
Lily raised her brow. Surprised to hear that all these future death eaters had once been innocent children, and that they’d been friends with James. 
She stood up and brushed her skirt off. “Okay, I have an idea.” She said. James was looking up at her from the floor, his brow furrowed. 
“What’s your idea?” Lily held out her hand to help him off the floor, and he took it without hesitating. 
“I think we should start over.” She said, letting go of his hand once he was on his feet. “I can’t promise that I won’t mess up, but I think we should just wipe the slate clean and start over.” 
James’ brows shot up his forehead. “Really?” 
“Yes. I mean, we’ve both made mistakes, but why not? We’re not the same people that we were a couple of years ago, otherwise you wouldn’t be head boy and I- well, I would probably still be head girl, but still.” She shrugged and James laughed. 
“This sounds like a good idea.” He nodded. 
Lily grinned and held out her hand again, this time in mock greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Lily Evans.” 
“James Potter,” His grin grew and he took her hand. She smiled back at him. “You have one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen.” 
Lily felt her cheeks heat up, but her smile didn’t shrink. “Well, thank you!” She dropped her hand and looked back and forth between the two doors. “Do you think we should try them again?” 
“We’re going to be very late,” James nodded, walking toward one door. Lily walked toward the other. 
“Ready?” She asked, looking over her shoulder. 
James nodded. 
Both doors opened. 
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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years
Text
Under My Skin (Ethan x MC)
Warning: 18+, NSFW
Summary: Set in the middle of chapter 6, Ethan and Naomi have it out over the current state of the diagnostics team.
Tags: @colourmeshy @virtualrain202 @fanmantrashcan @writinghereandthere @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune ~v~
Naomi stares at the textbook in front of her, eyes tired and blurry. She checks the time on her cell phone and 3:22 AM stares back in bold, white letters. Craning her head slightly, she spots Ethan standing at his kitchen island, looking at something on his laptop. 
She never thought she’d be back in his apartment, but he invited the entire diagnostics team over so they could get some research done on Leland Bloom’s case. Ethan wants it to be solved as quickly as possible, and he wants to be rid of the tech billionaire, so after work they all congregated in his apartment, eating Chinese food, drinking wine, passing around textbooks and throwing out theories. 
They’ve been at it for almost 6 hours now. 
The energy in the room is off. Ethan’s been pissed ever since the board told him they’d need to be for-profit and start accepting wealthy clients and potential donors, and everyone feels it. June, Baz, and Naomi have been walking on eggshells around him, but aside from occasional snark from Naomi, they’ve been extremely curt.
Jenner likes her though. The golden retriever took a shine to her the moment she crossed the threshold to Ethan’s condo, sniffing at her feet and attaching himself to her hip. He’s now lounging with her, head in her lap and she pours over this book, and she’s glad. The friendly dog provides an excellent distraction and Naomi is thankful, because his owner currently sucks.
Naomi has dealt with a lot of Ethan’s moods before: upset, defeated, angry, happy, the works. But she’s never had his ire directed at her before. They’re in this mess because of her, and it’s a tricky space to occupy. It’s not fun.
“As much as I love reading, if I look at another word, I think my brain might melt,” June says, breaking the tense silence. She stifles a yawn.
“I’ve tapped out for the night as well,” Baz adds. “I’ve looked up every possible kidney and bladder disease and disorder known to mankind. I’m on sensory overload. I think it’s time I go home.”
Ethan looks up from his laptop. He knows his team is probably exhausted. He can’t believe they’ve actually stayed over this long. “Well, thank you for staying. Go home, get some rest, I’ll see you at the hospital.”
June and Baz gather their belongings and all of the study material they brought along with them, returning Ethan’s living room to its original tidy state. Muttering goodbyes, the two of them exit the apartment. 
And then there were two. Naomi ignores the tension, ignoring the fact that they haven’t been alone together in over a week. Instead, she buries her face in her book, trying to focus on the words.
Ethan doesn’t bother sparing Naomi another glance before asking, “You didn’t want to leave with them?”
“Why, are you about to go to bed?”
“No.”
“Then, no.” She’s not going to stop now, and give him the satisfaction of thinking she’s given up for the night. Her stubbornness won’t allow it. “I don’t want to disrupt the process. I want this guy diagnosed and treated as badly as you do.”
Ethan scoffs. “I doubt it.”
Naomi has been giving as good as she gets when it comes to the passive aggressive snark, but it’s just exhausting at this point. She refuses to be his emotional punching bag any longer. She whips around in her seat. “God, is being a petulant little crybaby a second full-time job for you?”
That manages to get Ethan’s full attention. He levels a cool glare at the young resident, eyebrow raised in challenge. “You’ve gotten real comfortable calling me out of my name recently. Care to repeat that, Valentine?”
“You heard me loud and clear, Ramsey. You’re being a petulant little crybaby. You’ve been trying to pick a fight with me for the past 2 weeks. Look, I apologized, multiple times, for going behind your back or over your head, but I will not apologize for doing what I believe is right, not just for the team, but the hospital.”
“And you’re an insubordinate know-it-all!” Ethan shoots back. “You’re the type to touch the hot stove despite being repeatedly told not to because you think you’re a special snowflake who’s above getting burned. You lack foresight and analytical thought and self-preservation.”
Naomi recoils, having not expected Ethan to snap at her like that. “Excuse me?”
Jenner recognizes the change in tone between both adults. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, he moves from his spot on the couch and trots out of the living room, disappearing into the hallway.
“You thought this was going to be easy, that patients would just come flocking to us, but look at us, and everything would be perfect. We’re part of some social media...something or another’s video diary, we’re competing with a subpar hospital for patients despite being better than them, wasting time and resources because he wants to treat this like a reality show contest, and who knows what’s next, because you’ve opened Pandora’s box. We’re whoring ourselves out to the highest bidder, and the integrity and core foundation of this team has been compromised. So please spare me the martyr act, Naomi, and while you’re at it, please remember that I’m still your boss the next time you want to spout off at the mouth.”
Naomi’s hands are shaking, and she can practically feel the anger boiling in her blood. The nerve of this man. She stands up, ignoring the heavy book that fall out of her lap and onto the floor as she does so. She charges over to him, and sizes him up. Ethan’s almost a foot taller than her, but Naomi doesn’t care about the height disparity. She tilts her head back so she can look him in the eye.
“I’m not a martyr, but you’re a self righteous hypocrite. You’ve been pouting and waxing poetic about Naveen’s mission when you were the first one to mess with his legacy.”
Ethan’s nostrils flare at the accusation. “Excuse me?”
“Last year, you got into bed with Declan Nash and big pharma, compromising your own shaky moral code in order to save the life of one person. I’m trying to keep the team around in order to save a lot more people than just Naveen!”
“That was different!” Ethan argues. It doesn’t even feel right coming out of his mouth, but they’re far too deep in the argument for him to do anything besides dig his toes in.
“The only difference is you were the one in control then. But because it is my idea, you’re rejecting it. You’re being completely unreasonable here, Ethan. We’re standing in the middle of a sinking ship. Edenbrook is in trouble. My friends and I didn’t get our new salaries upon becoming residents, there’s talk of them shutting down the free clinic, and they’ll be coming after our team next. Who knows, maybe they’ll decide that mental health isn’t important and the entire psychiatric department should go. And then the nurses. And then they’ll start ordering less and less supplies, just to stay above water. And maybe you don’t care, because you’re Ethan Ramsey, you’re so wealthy that you only get a one dollar salary from the hospital, you’re established, your livelihood isn’t on the line, and I’m sure any hospital in the world would kill to employ you, but the rest of us? The little guys? We don’t have that option, so again, if you’re looking for me to kiss your ass and grovel because I made an executive decision, you’re going to be looking for a mighty long time.”
Ethan studies her, his gaze coolly fixated on her as she rants because he’s waiting for the second she stops talking, so he can jump back into his own argument. He realizes that it’s not an effective way to debate, and he falters slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi goads, her voice taking on a singsong tone. She’s embroiled in the fight now. “Cat got your tongue?”
In his 37 years of living, Ethan can confidently say Naomi Valentine is the most infuriating woman he’s ever met. A stubborn, impulsive, hot-head with a smart mouth. 
And fuck, he’s made a mistake.
Her mouth. Now his gaze is fixated on it, her full lips that she’s repeatedly bitten down on during this argument, the tackiness of her lip gloss, the way her tongue darts in and out.
Their argument is now the furthest thing from his mind, and he’s actually annoyed by it. What is it about this…woman that completely bewitches him? He wants to argue, not be transfixed on how pretty she is. She doesn’t even have to do anything and he’s under her spell again. 
A sharp jab in the middle of his chest pulls Ethan back to reality. He looks down and realizes that Naomi poked him in the chest, out of anger or to get his attention, he’s not sure.
“Hey!” The fact that he’s ignoring her only makes her more incensed. He started this fight, he doesn’t get the right to dissociate and shut down in the middle of it. “Have you listened to a word I just said?”
“No,” Ethan answers honestly. Naomi’s eyes darken at the response. He didn’t say that to piss her off further, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight.
He can tell she’s going to launch into another tirade, one that’s completely separate from their original issue, because that’s just how things are between them; they spiral before either of them knows what’s happening.
Before she can even fix her mouth to call him another name, his hand cups her jaw, tilting her head back, and he slants his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely.
She gasps. This is the first time he’s ever caught her off guard and initiated a kiss. She’s usually the one to be in control.
All too quickly, Ethan pulls back, locking eyes with the young woman in front of him. She’s dazed, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.
“Did you do that to get me to stop talking?”
“No, I kissed you because I wanted to. But the fact that it got you to stop running your mouth is a personal bonus.”
Naomi huffs, but doesn’t say anything else. God, he could be such an asshole at times.
“I want to do it again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His blue eyes pierce into her own, and it suddenly becomes hard to focus on anything other than him. “Can I?”
She doesn’t know why it’s so sexy, him asking for permission, but she feels the butterflies in her stomach rumble at the question. She’s barely able to nod her head before Ethan launches himself at her, sending her flying back into the kitchen counter.
It’s so different from any other kisses they’ve shared. This one she can feel all the way down in her toes. His tongue darts out, gliding against her bottom lip and demanding access to her mouth, which she eagerly grants him.
Everything about him invades her senses: the feel of his calloused hands touching her jaw, the scratch of his beard against her face, the smell of his cologne (something by Gucci that she’s been yet to narrow down), his taste (she can still taste the wine on him, even though he drank it earlier), his sounds (the little groans that only she’s privy to, always gravelly and smooth, that make her knees buckle). It all culminates into this one man that is so all-consuming, it makes her lose her mind.
The kisses become shorter, more teasing, allowing Naomi the opportunity to actually breathe. He leaves kisses along her jaw and neck, making her whimper.
Ethan wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist and spins them, pushing her against the wall. She winces upon contact. “Warn a girl next time.”
“You want to know what’s been on my mind recently?” Ethan asks, nipping at Naomi’s earlobe.
“W-What?”
His hands find purchase underneath the grey Henley she’s wearing and he lifts it up. Her stomach clenches under his touch and it’s maddening just how responsive she is to him. “I haven’t been able to get the sight of you out of my mind since I came to pick you up from your apartment the other day.” With trembling fingers, Naomi helps him remove the shirt, and it’s tossed somewhere behind them.
She’s not wearing the grey bra he saw the other day, this one is a soft pink, and he groans at how it contrasts against her skin. There isn’t a color that doesn’t look good on her. “I stood there…” he only pauses to place opened mouthed kisses on her collarbone. “...like a floundering idiot…” this time he kisses slightly lower, earning a sharp inhale from Naomi. The noise does nothing to soothe the erection straining in his jeans. “...while you decided to tease me.”
“You’re the one who decided to stay,” Naomi shoots back with a shrug. “So I had to put on a little show.” He hums in agreement. His tongue darts out, flattening over her lace covered nipple. “Fuck, just take it off!”
“You still have no patience,” Ethan observes. He yanks at the material, until he hears a loud tear.
“That’s La Perla!”
Ethan blinks, struggling to find the significance in that statement. Was it supposed to mean something to him? “Okay?”
“It was expensive, you jerk!”
“I’ll buy you 10 more,” he replies with a shrug before resuming his previous activity, pulling one of her nipples between his lips, sucking lightly. Naomi’s breath comes out in quick bursts, and it’s becoming harder for her to stay grounded to reality. She reaches out, wanting to touch him, but he intercepts, catching her wrist. “Hands to yourself, Valentine.”
Ethan’s fingers make work of the button holding her jeans together, and he drags down the zipper. He yanks at her jeans with the same care he afforded her shirt and bra, tugging them down until they pool at her feet. Naomi does the rest of the work, hopping around until the pants are fully off.
“You and the thin scraps you call underwear, have been driving me insane all week,” Ethan confesses. “The other day when I came to pick you up, part of me was so mad at you because of your blatant defiance, but the other part of me wanted to push you onto that bed, and do very, very inappropriate things to you.”
The wetness that floods her panties is overwhelming. She clenches her thighs together in hopes of alleviating some of the tension, but it doesn’t help. Figuring out a new strategy, she wraps a leg around his waist, pulling him flush to her. She rolls her hips, grinding into him. The growl that escapes his lips only fuels her and strokes her ego. “You should’ve.”
Ethan kisses her again, reveling in the needy way Naomi claws at him. Her fingers are desperate, fingering into his t-shirt, twisting at the fabric. He’s unsure if she wants to take it off, or if she’s impatient enough to say ‘fuck it,’ and just rip it.
Whatever the case, he doesn’t let her continue. Grabbing both of her hands, he forces them on either side of her. “You really do have a problem with listening. No. Touching.”
The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down her spine, but whatever rebellious side of her that wants to challenge the command is squelched with one look into his eyes. She can tell he means business and now isn’t the time to challenge his authority.
With restraint she didn’t know she had, Naomi places her palms on the hall behind her, and she stays as still as she can.
“Good girl.” Ethan smirks and drops her hands. He untangles himself from her and steps back an inch to admire his work. “You followed directions for once.”
Whatever smart aleck reply that was about to fly from her mouth is stifled by Ethan pulling her soaked underwear down and slipping two digits past her folds. The noise she lets out is a mixture of a high pitched yelp and a strangled moan, something that threatens to choke her.
The pace he sets is random and uneven, never giving Naomi a chance to settle into a rhythm, and she wonders if this is his way of punishing her, keeping her keyed up and writhing on him for what feels like eternity, trapped in her own form of purgatory.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and bucks her hips wildly into his hand, trying to keep pace with him.
“Stop doing that,” Ethan demands, using his free hand to pull her lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, Rookie.”
Something about the use of her former nickname makes her moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ethan.
“You like the nickname,” he states. “It’s funny, you know.  You take every opportunity to defy me, argue with me, and push my buttons, yet you get off on me controlling you.”
She can’t focus. He’s too close, it feels too good, and her brain can’t function properly under these conditions. He presses forward, the heel of his palm pressing into her clit, earning a hiss.
“Admit it.”
At this point Naomi would admit to committing armed robbery if it meant he’d keep doing this. She nods frantically. “Yes, Doctor.” He groans at the use of his title, and he pumps harder, curling his fingers inside of her. 
Naomi stands on tiptoes and desperately claws at the wall behind her. “Fuck Ethan, please!”
“Please, what? What do you want?” His lips find her neck again, and he sucks on her pulse point, only making things more hazy. “Use your words, Rookie.”
She wants a lot of things. She wants to cry out, she wants to dig her nails into his back until she draws blood, she wants him to keep talking her through this, his gruff voice in her ear as she shatters around him.
Unfortunately, Naomi cannot form a coherent sentence to save her life. She just rolls her hips, shamelessly grinding herself into his hand. “I...I…” The pleasure mounts, building in the pit of her stomach, spreading out. She’s so close, she can almost taste it. 
“Do you want to cum for me?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I want–” Ethan rewards her for her honesty and his thumb drags into her clit and he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. That’s all it takes, and she orgasms with a strangled cry and she’s thankful Ethan is right here because he holds her upright as her legs momentarily give out.
When Naomi regains the ability to stand on her own, Ethan lets go and slowly removes his fingers. Moving fast, Naomi grabs his hand, and without breaking eye contact with him, she slides the two digits into her mouth, licking them clean.
Ethan’s next breath is a shaky gasp that leaves his lung far too quickly. “Fuck, Rookie.”
“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom?” Naomi suggests, releasing his fingers with a loud pop.
Ethan shakes his head. “No.”
He registers the confusion on her face, but Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He grabs her by the waist and kisses her again, walking them towards the living room. He only breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt over his head, and it joins the growing pile of discarded clothing scattered around. Naomi helps him speed the process along, getting rid of his belt and popping the button on his jeans. Her fingers hook into the belt loops of the pants and she pulls them down.
Before she can do anything else, Ethan stops her wandering hands. “Wait, wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Ethan knocks his forehead against hers and he sighs deeply. “Naomi, if you don’t want to do this, please stop me now.”
She thinks it’s cute that he’s giving her an out, but she doesn’t need it. Her fingers slip past the waistband of his soft cotton boxers, a warm dainty hand wrapping around him.
Ethan shudders as a warmth spreads through him at the touch of her hand, and he mentally curses himself. He pushes her hand away.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not cumming into your hand.” Ethan spins Naomi around and bends her over the arm of his couch. 
While it’s not the desk in his office, Naomi won’t complain. She feels one of his calloused hands trace the length of her spine and her eyes flutter shut in anticipation.
No patience left, Ethan tugs down his underwear, letting the material pool at his ankles. Without another word, he lines herself up at Naomi’s entrance and thrusts into her all at once. He groans at the sensation.
Naomi has never been more thankful for couch cushions, as they muffle the scream that escapes her.
“Fuck, Naomi.” He digs his fingers into her hips before pulling out and slamming back into her. He doesn’t give her any time to adjust, but she doesn’t mind. They both know patience isn’t her forte. “You’re...so...tight.” His words are punctuated by sharp thrusts that threaten to steal the air straight from her lungs.
He leans forward slacking against her, but Naomi welcomes the weight. His beard scrapes against her shoulder blade, his breath warm against her ear, his fingers which are no doubt going to leave a bruise, all of it makes her dizzy, and god, this isn’t going to last much longer.
His thrusts become sloppier, more frenzied as the pleasure mounts, his blood boiling in his veins like molten lava. The only thing he can hear is the sound of the skin slapping, and his ragged breaths.
“Are you close?” He asks. But Naomi can’t think, let alone actually speak words, even if something monosyllabic would suffice. Why does he keep trying to make her speak? Her head drops with a thud and she mumbles something incoherent.
“For someone who had so much shit to talk earlier, you’re mighty silent.” Letting go of her hip, Ethan tangles a hand in her hair, yanking it back so she can’t hide her face in the cushions anymore. His other hand reaches around and he rolls her clit with his middle finger. Still way too sensitive from her last orgasm, she thrusts back, clawing at the couch with her nails, but he holds her in place, refusing to let her move.
“Ethan, fuck, don’t stop!” The words fly out all at once, shaky, fast and jumbled, but it’s all Ethan needs. 
With a burst of energy he didn't know he possessed, he drives into her, plunging deeper. “Cum for me, Rookie.”
Naomi screams. Loudly, and she’s sure his neighbors might be very annoyed, but she doesn’t care. Everything goes white behind her eyes as he all but pushes her over the edge. She clenches around him and Ethan hisses as she’s holding him in a vice-like grip. A few quick thrusts later, and he’s joining her in ecstasy, spilling inside of her. The hand holding her hair tightens for a second, then relaxes.
She’s pretty sure she blacked out for some period of time because when Naomi is finally able to focus, they’re no longer obscenely bent over the arm of Ethan’s couch. They’re on the floor, in the cramped space between the couch and the coffee table. 
She’s hot and sticky and absolutely exhausted. She places her hand over her heart, willing it to stop beating so erratically. Stealing a glance, Naomi peers up and looks at Ethan. He looks as disheveled as she feels, his hair tousled, lips swollen, chest and neck flushed red.
Her voice is horse and completely shot to hell when she finally speaks, “If that’s how our fights are going to play out from now on, I’ll let you pick more fights with you. And I’m a Cancer, we’re stubborn people.”
“I think we can find a happy medium somewhere.”
Naomi rolls over, until she’s nestled into his side and her head is on his chest. She can feel his heart beating rhythmically under her cheek. “Are we still fighting?”
“No.”
“Are you still mad at me?” He doesn’t answer the question right away, and a sense of dread fills her.
“I was never really mad at you,” Ethan admits after a long bout of silence. “I’m just mad at the entire situation. I’m mad at the budget cuts, I’m mad at our country’s healthcare system, I’m annoyed with your inability to listen to me. I’m mad at Leland Bloom’s obscene wealth and the fact that he gets to dangle his money in our faces like we’re horses waiting for carrots.”
“You made the right call, Naomi,” he continues. “But it’s a call you shouldn’t have been forced to make in the first place. I’m sorry for making you carry the brunt of my misplaced anger.”
“Apology accepted. And since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry for calling you a petulant little crybaby.”
Ethan chuckles. “Do you apologize for calling me a goddamn diva, as well? Don’t forget ‘entitled jackass’ and ‘spoiled child’.”
“You co-signed ‘spoiled child’ so I am not apologizing for it.”
“Fair point,” Ethan concedes.
Blindly searching with an outstretched hand, Naomi finds her cell phone and checks the time. She has to be at work in 2 hours, though she’d much rather get into Ethan’s bed and go to sleep.
“That happy medium that you mentioned? I think I have it figured out.”
Ethan raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, yeah?”
“First and foremost, I promise to never go over your head again, if you agree to do a trial run on whatever ideas I may come up with. You can’t shoot me down immediately.”
“I’m...willing to agree to that.”
“And once this all settles down and the hospital isn’t on the verge of complete financial collapse, maybe we can convince the board to only take on one or two billable patients a quarter.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” 
“Yeah, I tend to have those every once in a while,” Naomi teases.
Ethan stares at Naomi as she laughs at her own poor joke. Everything about her is an anomaly to him. She blew into his life a little over a year ago and here he is, willing to adapt his entire ethical code for her. And here they are, entangled together as if he didn’t spend 2 months on a different continent in order to get her out of his head. What is it about her that he can’t shake?
He gently cups her jaw and kisses her as if she’s a precious gem, like he didn’t just try to devour her. “What are you doing to me?”
Naomi smirks, recalling that it’s the same question he asked her in Miami. “Hopefully something good.”
He kisses her again. “Better than good actually.”
Realization washes over her that once she leaves this apartment, things are going to go back to being the way they were. He’ll go back to pushing her away. “So does this mean you want to have another reset?”
The question throws him off, but he soon understands what she means. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” Ethan repeats. If there’s a happy medium to be found between his team and the board, maybe there’s one for him and Naomi.
She doesn’t allow herself to get swept up by his words, but instead she braces herself for the chance that he pulls the rug from under her feet. “Well, what does that mean?”
“It means you and I are going to take a shower together, go to work, and we deal with our obnoxious patient. And after work, you’re going to put on something fancy because I’m taking you out to dinner. How does that sound, Dr. Valentine?”
Naomi can’t stop an annoying grin from spreading across her face. “I think it sounds pretty damn good, Dr. Ramsey.”
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