#he just doesn’t because fae hide their wings

[floorbacon0621]

Fluffy birb boi

#km shea CoMaD #Rigel #FLUFFY #I love winged characters #bacon art #my art #I’m honestly shocked I haven’t drawn Rigel more #km shea fanart #I still have a personal head canon that Rigel can fly #he just doesn’t because fae hide their wings #but if he wanted to… he COULD #hence his telephone pole perch #if he fits he sits

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

#batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #batman #dick grayson #damian wayne #dc batman #tim drake #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin #fae!dick #Fae!batfam #Folklore!batfam #freaks all of them #but like hot freaks

[laughableillusions]

Random Jareth HCs

I talk so much abt him and I have some silly ideas :3c

If he stays in owl form too long he has some trouble changing back. He gets kind of stuck a bit between. He chitters like a barn owl in “human” form, can screech like one if mad. There’s feathers in his hair, and sometimes he still has bird-feet. The worst case was when his arms were still big useless wings. It goes away after a while but he’s impatient as hell and will sulk about it and punish anyone who dares laugh at him for his chicken feet.

Jareth actually runs cold. He can change his body temperature if needed, but it’s very surface level. Usually he’s around room temperature (like a corpse). Cuddling or any close physical contact will warm his body up.

His hands are strangely rough under his gloves, they’re rough and hard like stone. He almost never removes his gloves because his touch alone can cause serious magic shit to happen if he isn’t careful. The glamour he uses to keep his more human form doesn’t really extend to his hands for whatever reason (his truest form is made of stone), so he wears gloves to sort of hide it.

Music lover, I mean duh. He sings and dances ofc, but he actually knows very little about modern music. His knowledge of humanity is still stuck in the 18th century. While he would like the idea of things like CD players and MP3 players etc etc, he will always prefer live performances, be it himself or watching someone else. He would probably go to a lot of concerts just to see what the music vibe is these days.

Doesn’t do well in human crowds. A masquerade ball in his castle is one thing, it’s his realm, it’s other fae. But you put him in a shopping mall or grocery store??? He is not having a good time. Mostly because he sees most humans as beneath him (except for the few he decides are special little princesses/princes lol). Modern humans apparently have a stench to him, and he finds it disgusting when “in concentration.”

He can make any small child stop crying however. If Toby proved anything it showed how good with kids Jareth is. He can entertain any small child with ease. Though it starts to freak the parents out when he starts talking about how much he wants to steal them away from their mothers. The man loves kids, and hopes one day he can actually keep a human baby to raise as his own.

Unbearably physically clingy. Like…unbearably. He’d be attached to his lover like a parasite whenever they try to go anywhere without him. If he can’t touch you, he’s standing behind you with his hands behind his back to keep himself from touching you. Like Jesus Christ man back up you’re not gonna go anywhere‼️‼️

Has a jealousy problem as well. With his stuff and his lovers. You do not touch his stuff without asking him, or until he lends it to you. With romantic jealousy, it’s about the same. Nobody touches what he deems his. He has enough dignity not to cause a public scene, but will glare at anyone who dares flirt with his lover- or if he thinks your not paying attention to him enough, he will give you the cold shoulder until you shove him aside and ask him what the fuck is going on.

Enjoys playing mind games. Though he’s too much of a romantic to do things that would really hurt you, at least intentionally. But his fae nature gives him a bastard side that sometimes can’t help it. But really, he would hate to actually fight with you. The last thing he wants is for you to be genuinely upset, and so will bend over backwards to keep you happy.

Speaking of that, Jareth is 100% a doormat to the ones he loves. He’s been alone for centuries (if not more). And any hope of validation he will chase like a kicked puppy. But everything he does, he expects something in return. (ex: I am exhausted by your expectations of me, isn’t that generous?) Fae are deal makers after all, and so he will create a beautiful ideallic place for you to live…but in return he expects your devotion and loyalty. It seems like a small price, until it isn’t. Sometimes, in exchange for a favor he does for you, he will ask for something in return (be it a task, or an a object).

As hedonistic and mischievous as he is, Jareth is quite emotionally intelligent. His age gives him wisdom, and sometimes it’s like he knows exactly just what to say. Humans have such predictable emotions after all, and he can use his knowledge of them as a form of manipulation if he wants/needs to. But to someone he loves, he would bring perfect comfort to. He will try and make you laugh, then ask if you want him to stay with you or leave you be, anything you ask if it would make you less upset and more comfortable he will do (doormat). If you want him to read you a bedtime story? Do a handstand? He’d fucking do it.

#Jareth #jareth the goblin king #labyrinth 1986 #labyrinth #headcanon post #jareth x reader #my headcanons

[asnowfern]

In Between The Lines

A/N: Happy @nestaarcheronweek ! This was originally intended for Metamorphosis but I’ll settle for cramming it in as a last minute contribution for Day 7 instead!

Summary: In her desperation to contact every friend and relative for help, a young Nesta stumbles onto a written connection with the most dangerous being of them all - a fae. She just doesn’t know that he needed the contact just as much as she did.

Rating: T, WC 3.3k

Read on AO3

With trembling hands, Nesta hands over what are now precious few coins over to the lady at the counter, thanking her before turning away. The ground crunching beneath her feet is a visceral thing. Every snap of a twig and crinkle of a dried leaf echoes in her ears.

Even coins to send out letters seem like a waste of precious resources. A cruel reminder of what they used to have in abundance being lost to them, having long sunk deep into the depths of the sea. Father had mentioned the funds they would get from selling the manor could tie them over for a good while but there is a despair and hopelessness in his dead brown eyes that boils Nesta’s insides.

It is as if he has given up.

Never mind he has three young daughters to feed and clothe, to ensure they wed well into good families. That look in his eyes was like looking at a dead fish, a reminder of a man who had all the riches on the island and still did nothing as his wife withered away. Nesta fumes just at the thought, the additional spurt of energy drives her home with hasty steps.

Nesta walks into the study where she has spent the last few weeks writing letters to every friend and relative - each one more desperate than the last. Only to receive nothing. The silence is louder than any crunch from the ground of impending winter or the trilling of birds surrounding a home that is no longer theirs.

The ink of the notepad glistens from where she had left it half written - another wretched letter she had all but signed off when the desolate realisation struck her: she has run out of contacts to write to.

She picks up the pad, a frown creases between her brows when notices fresh words forming just below where her letter stopped.

Who are you? How did you find me?

She drops the devil-willed pad, as if stung by hot iron.

No. Not the devil. Her fingers shake where she still has them stretched outwards.

Faerie.

***

For the first time in over forty years, Cassian feels something that is not fury and frustration, not the bottomless well of shame that he tries desperately every day not to lose himself in. Because for the first time after being trapped in Velaris, something from the outside seemed to have breached the enchantments hiding the Court of Dreams.

The content of the letter itself is nothing threatening. Just a letter pleading for financial assistance using words too beautiful for a bastard like him. Yet, oddly enough, there is no name or address.

The general in him hisses urgently, demanding him to plug the gap immediately. He pushes it aside in favour of the tight tug in his chest and the sight of elegantly curved scripture. The tug that pulls and pulls until the muscle beneath is sore and tender.

He tears his gaze away from the notepad and absently rubs soothing circles over his chest. Hazel eyes sharpen at the pen lying on the table a couple of inches away and he swipes it off the surface. He lowers the inky tip to the paper and watches blankly as the ink swells beneath the words and then vanishes.

With brows raised high, Cassian throws caution to the wind and scribbles away.

Who are you? How did you find me?

He drops the pen, fingers tapping incessantly against the pad, his leg joins in the restless motion soon after.

Minutes tick by.

Cassian continues to wait - knowing and needing the reply that is to come. He tosses the small knife up in the air. It flies past the height of his chest, his forehead, his wings, and back down into the waiting grip of seasoned fingers. Again and again, even as the room darkens around him.

Again and again until glimmering ink materialises, blessing the paper with its scrawl, beautiful but uncertain. Cassian leans forward, nearly toppling the chair over in its speed. Next to him, the tip of the blade embeds itself into the wooden surface of the table.

Can you help me?

He smiles widely as he pens down a reply, WHO are you?

Don’t play with me. His mysterious correspondent writes, angry in the crossing of their t, impatient in the jab of their period stop. Can you send us the gold or not?

He can’t, of course. Not while his city is still locked away. But they don’t need to know that yet.

What would you give me for it?

Dots of ink litter the space just below his question. As if they can’t quite decide how to respond. He lowers the pen to paper once more and offers, My name is Cassian. And you?

He frowns as the black ink forms more words, shaky yet stubborn. Are you here to help me or not?

A name, sweetheart. He taunts.

He can almost hear the huff in the response. You can call me Nina.

Is that your real name?

No. He barks out a laugh.

Touché.

Can you help me, Cassian?

A spark blazes a trail down his spine as he takes in his name written by his mysterious partner. He so desperately needs to see it again.

I want to. He tries to explain because he thinks it might actually kill him to have to lie to her. But there is a powerful ward that keeps my city hidden. I can’t contact anyone outside.

Without even realising it, he finds himself without air. Maybe in worry that she wouldn’t respond or in response to the ache in his chest. But finally, he releases it with the appearance of charcoal ink.

Then what do you call this? Comes the answer, direct yet petulant.

I don’t know. I thought that it might have been you.

Another scoff, he can almost hear it. Clearly, because he is the fae here, enthralling the young human female. Don’t be ridiculous.

I usually am. But not on this. You are the first person outside of the city that I have contacted in decades.

A long pause.

So you really can’t help me?

Cassian hovers the pen over the paper before, finally, I’m sorry.

He never gets a reply after that.

***

Nesta freezes in her path, sharp steely blue eyes taking in the angry twin pair of eyes. The tension crackles between them.

“What have you done?” She spits, “You were supposed to get food from the market.”

Feyre’s too youthful and slender fingers grip tighter around the body of the slightly battered bow slung over her shoulder. She shoots back sarcastically, “And then what? Starve for the rest of winter?”

She knows that. She did the maths weeks ago. The measly coins they had left would have lasted them no more than one more week. But it still could have been one more week of stale bread and pathetic bland stew, of not starving. Nesta’s jaw clenches, the muscle in her neck feathers in effort not to twist towards the lump of a man carving yet another wooden creature.

Instead, she tilts her chin just a degree north and her lips curl in derision. “And what can a child like you do?”

Her younger sister shakes her head incredulously, her knuckles turning white around the bow. “At least I am doing something.” And without another word, Feyre pulls her back rigid and walks out of the cottage.

Nesta ignores the all too perceptive brown orbs of her other sister, turning away to focus her attention on arranging the sparse possessions they have on the single shelf. Blue grey eyes narrow as they snag on the wide gaps between the stone walls.

A forgotten distant memory. A fevered conversation with a piece of talking paper. She pushes it away.

She draws her trembling hands back towards her chest and down to her sides. Slim fingers close in forces on the folds of the coarse material of her frock.

Useless. She is useless. What is a sharp tongue and perfect waltz in the face of starvation? What is the point of her? She thinks bitterly and turns away from the wall crevice.

The youngest Archeron returns hours later when the chill of the autumn night has begun to creep into their stoned shack, announcing her arrival with a creak of the door. Nesta opens her mouth, ready to shoot a snide remark when Feyre angrily dumps two squirrels on the table. Nesta forces her gaze away from the dead glassy look of the catch and meet-

The haunted abyss that has darkened the edges of vibrant grey blue eyes. The eyes of a girl who had just lost a piece of herself to the cold desolate woods.

The blankness vanishes with the next blink and Nesta clears her throat, snipping with distaste, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Swallowing a growl, Feyre barely suppresses a look of bewilderment and yanks the squirrels off the table, noisily stalking out of the cottage. Only the sheer weight and ill-maintained hinges prevent the door from slamming. The entire house turns quiet in her absence, even the oscillating of Elain’s gaze is a palpable presence.

Nesta does not see that look in Feyre’s eyes when her sister steps back through the door. Instead, she takes in Feyre’s anger and bitterness and returns them with her own frosted rage.

Hours later, when sleep has eluded her for far too long, Nesta slips out of the body-warmed sheets of their shared bed and into the shivering grasp of the dead of night. Surely, only the Gods know the time now.

She crosses her hands to rub the back of her upper arms, futilely trying to stave off the eruption of goosebumps spreading along her skin. She halts to retrieve a crumbled pad from behind the loose stone.

She should have left this cursed pad in that large manor. Let the wickedness that lives within infect its next occupier, whoever is unlucky enough to buy their house. But when it was time for her to leave, she couldn’t. Her arm resolutely refused to obey its owner’s command and it was all she could do to stuff it beneath a loose rock and pray that it did not try to influence anyone else in her family.

Her fingers trace the yellowed parchment, her brain plays the scene of Feyre stepping out into the snow on repeat. Her youngest sister, taking up the mantle because the man who calls himself their father can’t. His ineptitude, her failure.

The iron bracelet jingles uselessly around her wrist as she raises a pen to summon, Cassian?

No answer. Of course, it’s been months, she scolds herself.

But still, Nesta foolishly stands in the cold. Staring until…

Missed me, sweetheart?

***

Cassian closes the door to his room with a small snick, one hand still ruffling the damp towel over his hair. He tosses it into a bucket in a corner, knowing it would have vanished before it actually hit the bottom. Exhaling a long insufferable breath, he collapses on the soft surface of his bed. His eyes travel to the yellowed pad lined neatly next to his blade.

Nina. Or whatever her true name is, not that it really matters at this point. They have been chatting on and off for a couple of years shrouded in masks and half-truths. Sometimes they go weeks without communicating, once even months.

A part of him still chastises himself for not having brought this to Amren - at what is clearly a breach in their wards. But how can he when he has been dying to crack them open without having the protection fall apart like a house of cards for decades? Spending hours in the library if it meant he could find a hairline fracture to slip through, to be fighting by his High Lord’s, his brother’s side? In its stead, he found a link to an all too young human female who is trapped by the Cauldron just as cruelly.

Someone, who wields sharp words as their sword and wit as their shield. With her, Cassian’s world is suddenly more than just Velaris. With her, he once again breathes the crisp air of the Illyrian mountains.

A careless hand sweeps the bound stack of paper off the table. It hits the firm muscled chest with a slight thud. His brows raise with amusement as he rereads where their conversation ended just a couple of nights ago.

Reading. I miss reading.

He spent minutes staring at the same elegant curvature that he has long ago committed to memory. He breathed it in once more, the enthrallling way she flicks the ends of her g or slopes her R, before rushing down to the depths of the House. He ignored the slight scowls of the priestesses as his wings rustled noisily past the quiet caverns of the library. It took him a couple more precious ticking minutes before he picked out a book.

With a tickling in his chest and a blooming smile on his face, he picked up a stray pen and began to write.

Cassandra’s head whirled around to take in her surroundings - the snowy mountains flanking the small town, the comforting smell of freshly baked bread, the chatters of life and energy swirling around her-

Her heart stuttered.

The male tilted himself away, facing the horse sputtering in delight as he ran a brush along silky soft fur.

Are you writing me a romance??? Disbelief playfully interrupted him.

He corrected her because he sure ain’t hell will never get away from pretending to be able to write it himself, I am copying you a romance.

A pause.

Why?

Because you said you missed it.

The lack of reply spoke louder than any words would. It compelled Cassian to put pen to paper once more and continued copying.

The sight of the long sections of fiction brings a lingering smile at the edge of his mouth, a warm flutter in his chest. Nina, being the infuriating female that she is, snipes impossible notes at the sidebars, distracting him repeatedly.

Cassian curves his abdomen in to sit up, one arm already outstretched to reach for the novel. In the next moment, he starts to write.

***

The fire crackles as the decadent scent of a hot meal wafts over the cottage. There is a lightness that traverses the house that is completely foreign to Nesta: Elain humming a melody just under her breath, lithe hands a motion in arranging a vase of beautiful flowers. Their father moves with a spring in his steps as he hovers back and forth a ledger of carefully notated accounts.

Just for a moment, Nesta lets herself pretend - immerse herself in the same reality her father and sister live in. They’re not poor any longer. Hot piping meals are readily available. The desperate kernel of hope they have held on to in the past few years has prevailed.

And she opens her eyes to zone in on the piece of broken wood left by an enraged beast of terrifying size, and the elder Archeron sister remembers.

There is no Aunt Ripleigh, there is no mysterious gold recovered from lost seas. There is no good fortune.

This is only a monster honouring some ridiculous treaty from generations past. There is no forgetting that the price of comfort is their youngest sister.

The wrongness of it leaves a bitter taste in Nesta’s mouth.

Silently, Nesta draws the paltry number of coins from her pockets. Coins Feyre had managed to barter from that female mercenary for the Wolf’s pelt, a different type of blood money. Her mind begins to run the arithmetic and forms a plan.

Perhaps if instead of a pair of new boots that doesn’t pinch, she could have enough. The weight of her plan begins to ground her, reduces the level of bitterness of every fibre of her body screaming at her that this is wrong.

The crackling logs of the fire snaps, ensnaring her attention. The gaze of razor edged silver blue eyes shifts to the fire. Behind it, the loose rock some distance sharpens into focus.

That night, Nesta leaves the comfort of her warm bed once more, digging out the thick wad of paper. She skips through pages of an indulgent fae romance, right to the end of their last correspondence some weeks back.

The Faes are unscrupulous folks. They trick and they take. This one is different only because he can’t. He is trapped just as much as she is.

But still, he is fae.

How do I get past the wall?

She has almost dozed off when glistening ink spurs her back to alertness.

The wall? Into Prythian?

Nesta clicks her tongue in distaste at the obviousness of the question when he adds another word after his last message.

Whatever the reason - you shouldn’t.

The side of her palm presses hard into the papered surface, her fingertips turned white against the tip of her pen.

It remains at the tip of her tongue as her mind refreshes and reminds her: The deep roar of the beast, Feyre’s steely blue eyes as she steps forward, unwavering in the face of powers leagues beyond her own. It’s my sister. She’s been taken. I need to get her back. She almost spills it all out.

But she doesn’t, not trusting the truth with anyone. Much less another fae.

She asks instead, Why?

There is hesitance in his answer. Things are messy now. It is why my city is locked away. It’s not safe, much less for humans.

The blatant dismissal sets a flame alight. It sputters and hisses at the indignity. But like a steel blade stressed in an impossible heat, it eventually quenches and leaves her with a hardened resolve.

All the more reason for me to try.

She doesn’t ask any more questions. Counting and setting the last of Feyre’s coins aside, Nesta climbs back under the covers with Elain.

She will look for the mercenary tomorrow.

***

The frigid sting of water swallows her whole. It burns and burns and burns. Vapourising all that she was, forging into a being she did not want to become.

Nesta opens her eyes when the darkness and agony fades, a foreign silver fire simmers deep within her. Swirling, waiting.

Light streams through the windows and shines on the elegant furnishing of the room. Outside the clear glass is the panoramic view of a city that is not hers, that she wants no part of. Withholding a long suffering sigh, she gets dressed.

The all-too-sharp fae hearing picks up on familiar grunting which she has long identified as the two winged fae sparring. Something in her chest twists uncomfortably at the memory of the crimson siphon adorned Illyrian.

Like everything else, she pushes it away.

It is only after she finishes braiding her hair, tucking those all too sharp ears behind thick locks that she notices a new book lying on the table. She picks it up with a frown and opens to its marked page.

Cassandra’s breasts grew heavier with every breath. The darkened gaze of Matthias pinned her to the rough wooden planked walls, its coarse surface scrapped uncomfortably against her bare back. The male approached with a predator’s stride, his smirk grew as he bracketed her frame between his large arms.

Nesta scowls as she tears her gaze away from the page. Her heart traitorously stammers at the all too familiar scrawl on the thin slip of paper marking the page.

The library is on the second floor, just down the hallway from the stairwell.

For the first time since she’s spilled out of the cauldron, Nesta smiles.

#nestaweek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar

[ofduskanddreams]

Take Me If You Can [teaser]

Happy Halloween! This is not a trick, just a treat for all of you <3 Kinky canon-verse Azris is coming soon, though not quite in time to qualify as a kinktober fic. Minors DNI. Please be mindful of the warnings before clicking beyond the break. This isn't as edited as my usual stuff so please be kind to me.

I used my usual Azris taglist for this but if this snippet isn't your vibe than please disregard the tag. Have a great Halloween :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: CNC (Consensual Non-Consent,) violence, fighting, chasing/hunting, bondage, primal play, making the fae be FAE™, degradation, cutting off clothes, teasing, faebane is involved, toxic masculinity.

Azriel feels the faebane enter his bloodstream immediately, his shadows fade and the stones on the backs of his hands lose their light. As usual, his first reaction is panic. And since Azriel is no coward, he’ll choose fight over literal flight every time. His lungs tighten, gaze searching for any sign of the Autumn male as his heart beats too quickly. Even though this is something he chose, something he asked for, has begged for before, it still goes against every instinct that has kept him alive for the past five and a half centuries.

“You know you can make things easier for yourself any time, Shadowsinger.”

Eris’s voice echoes off the trees, the bastard is using a spell that makes it impossible for Azriel to guess his location because the sound surrounds him.

“Just say the word,” Eris taunts, “or stay still for once like a good little brute and let me catch you.”

Stay still? Like hell he will. Azriel takes off, sprinting across the cushion of fallen needles and moss.

He sidesteps a tree root arching out of the loamy earth, air already sawing in and out of his lungs.

Eris’s laugh sounds from somewhere in front of him. Azriel skids on the soil, turning so quickly he has to push himself off a sap-sticky trunk to stop from crashing into it.

“Running is pointless, you know?”

And Azriel hates himself for the way that coldly arrogant voice, those unmistakably posh vowels, sends a bolt of desire shooting down his spine.

“You will never outrun me. If you try to hide, I will find you. If you try to fly away, I will winnow to you in an instant and take you someplace where no one will hear the way you’ll be screaming for me by the end of the night.”

Azriel runs faster, eyes adjusting to the rapidly darkening forest. He thinks there’s a lake nearby and starts heading in that direction. If he can get to any kind of clearing, he’ll stand a better chance.

Eris doesn’t stop trying to bait him, still projecting his voice so it hits Azriel from every direction.

“You’re nothing without your magic, Shadowsinger. You’re just a helpless male. A coward running instead of facing me. Without your shadows, without your power, you’re useless. What good is a spymaster who can’t spy? A soldier who’s too scared to fight?”

Azriel sees a glimmer through the trees up ahead—moonlight on rippling water.

“What chance do you, a powerless brute, have against me—a high fae prince, the heir to the Autumn Court?” Eris laughs again, “The fact of the matter is that you don’t. I will always find you, Azriel.”

And fuck but the surety in Eris’s voice makes Azriel’s cock stiffen in his leathers. He palms himself hard enough to hurt—not the good kind of hurt—because he can’t afford an erection slowing him down, not when the lake is so close.

“And, when I catch you, I’ll show you exactly what use you’ll be to me.”

It’s a threat. It’s a promise.

Azriel breaks through the tree line and onto the gravelly shore.

But he hasn’t been thinking ahead, doesn’t know where to go because the only options are the water, back into the forest, or into the sky. Flying is the surest way to be caught. Illyrian wings are a hindrance to swimming. The forest means he loses any advantage this clear line of sight gives him.

Though these thoughts fly through his mind in an instant, that’s all it takes. A warm weight slams into him and sends both of their bodies crashing onto the gravel. Azriel lands on his back and the stones bite into his wings, dozens of small cuts on the sensitive membrane open as one—a symphony of exquisitely bright pain blooming.

“Hello, little bat,” Eris sneers above him, auburn curls falling onto his forehead from the chase. The princeling cocks his head, “Giving in so soon?”

“Never,” Azriel growls, slamming a fist into Eris’s side, just below his ribs and rearing up. His forehead meets Eris’s with a crack, shards of light splinter through his vision but Azriel works on muscle memory, throwing Eris off balance and flipping them.

But as he reaches to grab a fistful of Eris’s hair and pin his head in place, the male smirks. Heat wraps around Azriel’s extended wrist as the world darkens, the lake dissolves and he can’t breathe, can’t….

His shoulders burn as his arms are stretched above him to their limit, the rough bark of a tree trunk presses into the open cut on his cheek and Azriel hisses as the hand on his nape presses harder.

“Pathetic,” Eris scoffs, releasing his head with a shove.

Azriel tries to hit him, kick him, something, but his legs won’t move. Glancing down, he sees ropes of flame wrapped around his ankles, glowing orange against the darkness.

“Thinking you could run from me? Honestly,” from somewhere behind him Eris tuts disapprovingly, “this level of delusion would be cute if it weren’t so pitiful.”

“Fuck you,” Azriel cranes his neck and spits but it lands a few feet short of Eris’s polished boots.

“Oh, don’t worry little bat, you will. Try that again. If you make it, I’ll let you lick them clean.”

Despite himself, Azriel’s getting hard. He presses his forehead against the uneven bark, trying to stop the blood from rushing out of his head.

“Oh, I think you like the sound of that,” Eris croons, close enough for Azriel to feel the warmth of his breath on the shell of his ear. “Is that what you are, Azriel? Nothing better than a dog panting at my feet?”

Azriel throws his head back hoping to hit Eris, but all he succeeds in doing is pulling a muscle.

Then there’s cool metal and the familiar edge of a gemstone dragging down the central tendon of his right wing and Azriel’s breath leaves his lungs all at once as he arches into the touch.

Eris chuckles, “Look at you. The famed spymaster of the Night Court, the legendary shadowsinger, and you barely put up a fight. Already so desperate for me.”

“I’m not done fighting,” Azriel sneers, struggling against the restraints.

“Oh but you are,” Eris sounds gleeful. The heat of him presses Azriel into the unyielding tree. Azriel can’t help the noise that slips past his lips when Eris reaches into his leathers without warning and wraps his fingers around Azriel’s cock and strokes leisurely. “Just as I thought.”

The heat of Eris’s skin, the cool metal of his rings, makes Azriel shudder. Eris’s teeth graze the tattoos on his neck and Azriel’s torn between trying to headbutt him again and giving him better access to the sensitive expanse of skin.

“I know how much you hate this,” condescension laces Eris’s words. “You hate that I’m the only one who can give you what you need.” He sighs, releasing Azriel’s cock. “It must be so frustrating not being able to allow yourself the things you want, needing someone else to give them to you, needing me to be that someone.”

A vertical line of pressure lands between Azriel’s shoulder blades—a knife, larger than the one with the faebane.

“Stop,” he grits out, though it lacks conviction.

The moment Eris tackled him onto the lakeshore, Azriel realized how long it’s been since their last game, and just how tired he is. It’s been months since Nyx was born—since Azriel almost lost a third of his family in a single moment and has been doing everything in his power since then to make sure everyone is safe.

The blade cuts through the laces running down his spine, the night air eliciting goosebumps on the newly exposed skin.

“Eris,” Azriel warns. The knife stills halfway through its journey.

“Yes, Azriel?”

The waiting blade, the lack of derision in the words—Azriel doesn’t need to be told that Eris is giving him a chance to stop this now.

He should take it. Azriel should never have let things get this far. Eris is right that a part of him loathes how much he craves this, craves him—the male he’s hated for so long, who’s impossibly complicated, whose masks are so layered that he doesn’t know where they end and Eris begins.

This goes against everything he’s believed his whole life: vulnerability is weakness, weakness is shameful. The last place he should ever want to be is at someone else’s mercy. He’s Rhysand’s spymaster for fuck’s sake—Azriel is the one who binds, he’s the one who wields the blade. It’s who he’s always been: the person everyone needs him to be

— — —full fic coming soon-ish!

tagging : @iftheshoef1tz @damedechance @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @foundress0fnothing @krem-does-stuff @octobers-veryown @born-to-riot @melonsfantasyworld @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @lady-riel @chunkypossum @catboyjamesbond @queercontrarian @asnowfern @valkyrieassassin @wilde-knight @xtaketwox @itsthedoodle @areyoudreaminof @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ablogofsapphicpanic @separatist-apologist @fieldofdaisiies @melphss @bubybubsters @nestas-workwife

if you want to be added to/removed from my azris taglist just let me know :)

#azris #azris fanfiction #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fanfiction #cw: kink #cw: cnc #kinktober 2023 #kind of not really #it is in spirit

[local-ground-apple]

Hello, I just saw that you're open for requests and I thought, I maybe should use this opportunity. I'm sorry for my bad English >w<

I would like to ask for some Head canons where MC/Reader is a demon from their world (Twst) and demons are rare in Twst and he/she is dating one of the boys. How would the reaction be when they find out what he/she truly is, while they date and there is the fact that he/she never hid it anyway or doesn't care that they find out.

Characters I would love to see those Headcanons off are Lilia Vanrouge, Jade Leech and Floyd Leech. They are my favorites to be honest. x3

I hope it's not too much to asks. I'm also not sure if someone ever asked this before. D: Thank you in advance. x3

Hiii, don't worry about your English, it's great! And sure! You're the first one to request something like this. I've never written a demon mc! before, so I hope I didn't fail miserably Also, it's been a while since I wrote anything for tweels

🦇 He knew from the very beginning. At first he wasn't sure that you were a demon. However, he knew 100% that you weren't a human. he guessed your race quiet rapidly, even before you two started dating. Lilia is ancient, so he had interacted with practically every single race in Twisted Wonderland, even as rare as yours. Besides, you didn't exactly attempted to hide your origins,

🦇 Lilia doesn’t mind that you’re a demon. After all, he isn’t human himself.

🦇 You both are really old. Like really old. But that's what made him figure out your race. You often slip up and reminisce about the past. Or you casually share stories from like two centuries ago. If someone points it out, you just brush it off jokingly.

🦇 Silver sometimes jokes that you two are really old (he means that you two are perfect for each other).

🦇 A Fae and a Demon is a dangerous, but powerful mix. You both enjoy someone else’s misery (kidding). However, you two absolutely love pranking others. Your favorite victim is Sebek, given his loud and violent reactions. Lilia “tries” to stop you,

🦇 Lilia never really confronted you about him knowing which species you are, yet he knew that you knew that he knew. You don’t really care if the others find out or not. You simply enjoy being yourself.

🌊 Jade is quite observant and he quickly connected the dots. I mean, not exactly, but he was close. He was aware that you weren’t human. You’ve never really tried to conceal your true nature deeming it too troublesome to hide your demonic heritage

🌊 Since demons are extremely rare in Twisted Wonderland, Jade couldn’t figure out on his own who you were exactly. He had few guesses (all of them were wrong) and even with Azul’s help and knowledge, he didn’t manage to find out your race.

🌊 So he talked with you and you casually told him, dropping this huge news on him. Honestly, Jade suspected that you may be some sort of very rare Fae (oh, how wrong was he),

🌊 Jade doesn’t care about your demonic heritage. Quite the contrary, he finds it fascinating. He can and will ask you a lot of questions about your species. There’s not many books in Twisted Wonderland that are dedicated to your race, so he is rather curious,

🌊 Jade also does it, because he genuinely wants to get to know you better. You don’t mind his questions and you gladly answer them

🌊 Jade is also really curious of your true form (like whether you have wings/horns/tail, etc.) and he will literally beg you to show it to him

🌊 Perhaps one day you will,

🦐 Flyod found out by pure accident about your demonic heritage and he literally doesn’t care about it. You are still his lovely shrimpie, so your race changes absolutely nothing for him.

🦐 Your demonic origin basically lets him squeeze you as hard as he wants without leaving any bruises or gravely injuring you. Needless to say, he is overjoyed, since he doesn't have to hold himself back,

🦐 After he found out, he realized that it was so obvious and he was so blind. Like, you didn’t even bother to hide your demonic traits at all,

🦐 You two are a menace to the society. Sometimes, when you let your demonic traits take over, you are truly frightening. And so is Floyd.

🦐 In the whole school, no one, absolutely no one dares to mess up with you two. Really.

🦐 You both are creatures of chaos and you both enjoying wrecking it together. Given your demonic heritage, you are usually more prone to picking up violence as a solution to your problems. And for Floyd violence isn’t a question, it’s the answer that is always yes.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #lilia vanrouge #jade leech #flyod leech #lilia vanrouge x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd leech x reader #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst jade leech x reader #twst jade x reader #twst lilia x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst floyd leech #twst jade leech #twst lilia vanrouge

[christinesficrecs]

Hello Lovely,

I was wondering if you know of a fic where Stiles is Fae. I read it a year or more ago, and it was either incomplete or just a few chapters. I remember that Stiles is sick and hiding it from the pack using various charms like a dragonfly/butterfly wing under his watch band and something in his sock. The pack doesn't know he's fae and they only find out because his uncle comes to Beacon Hills to heal the Nemeton (I think?). I've looked for it under many different tags, but haven't had any luck. Starting to think it's been deleted...😥😥

Thank You!

Hey :)

Well it sounds like this one?

And The Moon Shined A Little Brighter by LuneFaitLaFolie | 17.9K

It’s not in the same spot, it’s over his left shoulder blade, almost like it’s over the back of his heart, but it’s just as big. It isn’t black either, so it also doesn’t match any of his other rune tattoos, which Stiles can say with confidence without looking, are either black or blue. No, it’s a deep red, the same colour as Derek’s alpha eyes.

It is though, a huge ass matching triskelion permanently on his body, and he has no clue how the fuck to tell Derek about it.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #lost and found #moon spirit stiles #stilinski family #doomedtowitness

[mango-ribs]

holy shit it’s my sona if I put any effort into them ?! HOLY !!!!!!!!

More stuff under the cut

ok even though I now have this cute fairy design please continue to draw mango as a little blob guy it’s so cute

ok yes character intro thing??

“Mango” is a faerie (inspired by the Ariels in Ancient Magus Bride, good anime) - He/They/It

// they’re able to use their leaf-like wings to hide themselves

// also able to blend in with fruit, specifically mangos, hence the name!

// being clever and small, they tend to take on a sort of symbiotic relationship with many predators, doing small services or allowing themself to be eaten in exchange for protection or food

// however because they’re a little shit, he often bites the hand that feeds him. literally. be careful opening drawers he’ll pop out and BITE

// Despite being small they can and do prey on smaller critters, so can be considered both prey and predator. They gain energy from consumption without digestion. However they do not do this out of necessity, as they can sustain off of fruit just fine

// it originally had four arms, and doesn’t tell many people how it lost the second set

// The four mandibles/pincers (idk the word) on its face are able to hold its prey in place a la reaper leviathan from Subnautica

// be careful when swallowing, they have quite a few sharp bits!

// personality wise they are sociable but annoying as hell when they want to be. He think he’s a threat man

// follows the fae rules. don’t tell them your name.

// yes, they do taste pretty fruity

🌀🌀🌀 oooooh you wanna eat them so much ooooh you wanna send me asks so bad /j

+ initial doodles :P

#yumyums #mangos ocs #mango ribs #Mango Fae #vore talk #my art #v0re #soft vore #sfw vore #vore meme #unwilling vore #safe vore #vore oc #gt vore #tw vore #vore art #vore ocs #vore fairy ???

[thatmadshifter11]

The Shadowsinger and The Mistress of Love and Lust Pt.2

As the first rays of dawn break over the horizon, I finally allow myself to rest, leaning against him, our bodies entwined. His once bloody and torn wings are now starting to heal, the skin slowly knitting itself back together. There's still a long way to go, but we've made it through the night, and that's a victory in itself. I let myself relax against the man who I had loved for centuries the one who is now my mate, we haven't even gotten to talk about it the way we are bound to each other. To be completely honest I don’t know if I should even be sleeping beside him since he has said nothing to me other then “Mate” that doesn't mean he accepts it but it also doesn't mean he doesn’t.

I close my eyes, allowing the exhaustion to take over. But even as I drift off, I know that when I wake, I'll be ready to face another day, to continue the fight, to heal and protect my mate. I also know that he will do the same for me even if he doesn’t accept the Bond because that is just the type of man he is one with a heart. You may not be able to tell under all the brooding and shadowy exterior but he is one of the kindest most genuine men I have ever met.

His soft whisper rouses me from my sleep, "Thank you, Cici," and I squeeze his hand in response, and blush lightly noticing our proximity and the way we are both covered in his blood. “uh how about a bath?” I ask easing up from the bed moaning my exhaustion taking over me. Before my pain fully takes over I could’ve swore he said something about how he’d only take one if I joined him. I feel my old scars they are sore and my eyes are slowly lose their sight. I think quickly and using the last of my strength I winnow to Cassian and Nesta’s tent. “Cass? Nes?”

I stumble in blindly bumping into a wall- wait not a wall my best friend, Cass! “Cia are you alright?” he asks shaking me lightly and looking me over. “Where's Az is he ok” he asks frantic. “H-he's fine but I need help,” I say shakily. “My powers are weak and without anything to refuel them before I'm done with Az….” My eyes are welling up with my bloody gold tears and I let them fall.

Cass scoops me into a warm, brotherly hug. I hear Nesta approach, “What do you need to refuel?” she asks me and I can’t help but assume she is crossing her arms like I have watched her do for years when she gets curious. I smile, my senses and skills really show when I'm blind it almost makes me want to stay this way, but I will miss colors and glitter being able to see my family's smiling faces.

“Blood,” my voice shaky as I say it. Nesta huffs and hear footsteps shuffling around next thing I know I loose the presence of my best friend and I'm left myself. I can’t help but let my tears fall. I hear them again and Nesta approaches me grabbing my hands. “Eris said he’ll help he said he's done it before,” she says in a hushed tone.

Which brings me back to the time I spent with Eris camped in a cave hiding from threats, as he survived on animals we killed and my powers keeping him afloat as I kept myself replenished with his strong High Fae blood. He was the first High Fae I had ever drunken from. He allowed me to keep drinking from him as long as he stayed strong and healthy we survived 4 months out in the wilderness that way.

“Where is he?! I need it now,” I say agitated wanting to get back to my mate. “He is going to the healing tent to gather supplies,” “Alright thank you so much Nes,” I said leaning up to give her a kiss on the check which ends up rather sloppily on her ear. She laughs, a sound I haven’t heard from her in awhile. Eris helps me and gives me a few bags of fresh blood so I don't have to wonder around like that again. I rush back to Az fully recharged and ready to help him as much as I can.

#feyre archeron #cassian #i am living for jealous azzy #acotar #feysand #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #acotar oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar fandom #nesta is a queen #cassian is readers bestfriend #reader/oc loves red glitter #reader is obviously rhysands sister #healer reader #reader is a high lady #court of dreams and nightmares #love vampires #blood drinking #blood lust

[redheadspark]

Affection and Affirming with Azriel x Reader and the prompt is “in the midst of a tense moment,  receiver turns away to conceal their emotions but sender wraps their arms around them and holds them from behind.” Maybe the reader and azriel got into a bad fight and they don’t really know how to solve it so azriel or the reader holds the other?

A/N: great choice Anon! Thanks! It’ll be short since I’m doing this on my lunch break at work!

Call It Even

Summary: you hated your mate being overprotective, and your mate hated it when you were reckless. One thing you two could agree on: your love for one another

Warnings: just angst and fluff at the same time

“You’ve got to be kidding me,”

“Afraid not, darling”

“Teach me how to fight. Az.”

“No,”

You huffed and placed your hands on your hips, glaring up at your mate to see his stoic and stern glare at you. Standing out in the Terrance of the townhouse in Velaris, squaring off with him again with the argument of your safety and combat training. Or lack thereof.

“Why not?” You asked, trying to sound reasonable and not snippy as you were accustomed to when you never got your way. Especially when it came to your safety and what you could do in self defense.

This was no new argument, it was an old one that was about to burst into flames at any moment. Yet if you were stubborn, Azriel was just as bad

“There’s no need for you to learn how,” Azriel reason, though you cocked your eyebrow at him, “There’s no real to threat to our borders or our lands—“

“But it doesn’t hurt to learn how to defend myself,” you explained, “I want to be prepared to take care of myself if something could happen—“

“Nothing will happen,” he made it sound like it was set in stone, nothing would change it. Yet it was not defeat with you. Not yet

“Well if you won’t teach me, then I can get Cassian to teach me,” you said lowly, Azriel’s face almost went into annoyance, the mention of the Illyrian Commander. You hated throwing Cassian into the mix, but you also knew Cassian would be willing to help you out. Even if it meant ruffling Azriel’s wings

“You wouldn’t,” he warned, not in a threatening amber but low just the same

“Try me,” you replied, turning on your heel and walking away from Azriel. For some reason you thought you won the battle and argument once and for all. But you were only a few feet away when Azriel spoke again

“I’ll forbid him from training you,” he growled, his voice now low and dominant. You stopped and clutched your hands to tight you thought you were going to make your hands bleeds from the nails digging into the skin, “I don’t what you to be trained how to fight, end of discussion. Do you understand—“

“NO I DONT!” You for finally bellowed and whirled around so fast you me hair flew up in the sky. Azriel saw your anger all over your face, his own face was trying to remain like stone as you yelled, “I don’t fucking understand! I don’t understand why you wish for me to be defenseless and unwilling to take care of myself! I’m not a fragile fae you can keep hiding in your shadows because you can, I want to be able to fight and be on my own and just——FUCK!”

You turned away from him and slammed your eyes shut. Tears wanted to spill to show you were crying , deep down you wanted to cry since Azriel was not seeing or hearing you. But you were too stubborn and too tough to show even your mate your tears. You breathe out so hard through your nose that it was clearly heard.

You loved Azriel, more than anything you did. But in these times when he wanted to protect you from anything and everything, it was so hard to not lash out at him. But now that you did, your own heart was breaking.

You felt scarred hands, hands that have killed in battle but held you so softly in the throes of love and devotion, touching your back in gentle touches as you cried in your hands. The hand slowly moved to your arms, slowly and like silk moving along your skin to then wrap his arms around you.

Your body stayed still, you feeling the hint of shadows and the soft scent of that was purely Azriel as he both touched you and kept his distance at the same time. He was hesitant, alway was, when it came to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost sounding wounded himself as he was so close behind you, “I know how you can handle yourself and you wish to. Your stubbornness, as morbid as it sounds, is one of the reasons why I love you because I know how you wish to stand on your own. I merely…”

He paused, inhaling hard and you void have sworn you felt his breathing against your hair, “I thought you weren’t going to make it when our daughter was born.”

Your remembered that night so clearly in your mind. The cold night was a chill and the birth of your daughter was exhausting. You almost lost too much blood, your baby girl crying out for you as Majda worked her magic to keep you alive. You saw nothing but pain and worry on your mates face as he held your baby close, thinking you are already dead.

You never wanted to see that kind of face on Azriel ever again.

“I can’t loose you, our baby can’t loose her mother. Neither of us will be able to handle it if you're gone and out of our lives. I just thought that teaching you to fight would make you open to being hurt…or killed,”

The tears were gone but your head hung low. You couldn’t feel the tearing in your mating bond, that sore and tender pain of being lost to Azriel. You knew then why he would never let you left a dagger or a sword. You were too stubborn to see it, thinking that he was a merely wanting to be hesitant with you. He has, but more than hesitant

“I wouldn’t do anything out of my control, Az. You know that. Our little girl is my world, our world, and to think that I wouldn’t be able to defend myself…or her. Cauldron forbid if you weren’t here—“

“I get it,” he hummed softly, your body going back into him all the more now as his entire front made up your entire back. It was a safe feeling, even in this time of agitation. You never wanted to be this cross with Azriel, and the guilt you had strummed into your own mating bond connecting to Azriel.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, “I was a stubborn fool,”

“Darling we both are,” he sighed into your hair and hold, “I pray our little Astrid does not inherit that from either one of us,”

You let out a wet snort, Azriel chuckling too and you both are smiling from the thought. There was comfortable silence then, you two holding one another and letting the anger slip away.

“I’ll be the only one who’ll train you, but nothing past a dagger or hand to hand. We’ll call it even, deal?” He asked softly, you tracing the scars on his hands with your fingers.

“Deal,” you replied, being able to handle the compromise , “As I recall, us being in this kind of position lead to us having a little Astrid in the first place, shall we go find her before she has a baby sibling?”

Azriel just chuckled and whirled you around in his arms, you seeing the raw look in his eyes as he smiled and kissed you softly. Both of your stubbornness seemed so strong at certain times. But in that moment, seeing the true reason why he as protective as willing to hold you back, the anger was no longer there.

Calling it even was much better.

The End.

#fanfiction #writing #azriel prompts #azriel supremacy #azrield shadowsinger x you #azriel x reader #acotar fandom #acowar #acomar #acotar fanfiction

[ama-the-weeb]

hongice week day 6! just one more day... today's prompts were fantasy / music, and i did both... because of course i did. fic under cut (@hongiceweek)

It’s a peaceful afternoon, so Leon decides to get outside for a bit and go for a walk. He was dragged out a couple days ago for a family vacation, so this walk is also partly a mini-adventure. 

After walking for a while, Leon finds himself maybe a bit too far from where he’s supposed to be. As the sidewalk turns to grass, he questions whether he should keep going or turn back. The reasonable part of him tells him that he should head back just to be safe, the adventurous part yells at him to keep going. Leon’s heart starts beating faster from the adrenaline. He continues on, off the path.

Walking further into the wooded area, Leon hears what sounds like a melody. Is someone singing? He finds himself walking towards the music. 

Eventually, he makes it to a small clearing and sees a boy about his age with silvery-blond hair that almost appeared white. The snowy-haired boy hums to himself.

“Hey,” Leon says, getting the boy’s attention. The boy turns to him, revealing his bright purple eyes to Leon. Such an unusual color…

“Who the hell are you?” The boy says defensively.

“Leon–” Leon tries to introduce himself but is caught off guard when the silvery-haired boy suddenly seems to sprout wings and fly off. “Wait!” Leon shouts, going after him.

And just like that, the boy vanished.

~

The next day, Leon goes back to the clearing, hoping to see the beautiful purple eyes of that boy again. This time, Leon keeps quiet and hides, hoping the boy shows up and doesn’t notice him.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, the boy appears again, sits on a log, and starts humming his little song again. Quietly, Leon sneaks up and sits next to him. The boy squeaks a bit but keeps humming. The two of them sit like that for a while.

“Why’d you come back?” The boy asks after a while. 

“I wanted to see you again,” Leon mumbles. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

“I’ve… never seen anyone like you before, either,” the boy mumbles back. “You’re human, right?”

“Yeah?” Leon says. That’s a weird question to be asked. “Aren’t you?”

“No,” the boy mutters. “I’m fae…ish. My brother said we’re a mix of things, but we’re mostly fae, I think.”

“I’ve never met a fae before, I didn’t know they sing,” Leon comments.

“Most fae don’t,” the boy replies. “Lu– My brother said we do because there’s some siren in our lineage somewhere.”

“My name’s Leon, what’s yours?”

“...You can call me Emil.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Leon says, smiling. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Emil says back.

#hetalia #hongice #hongice week day 6 #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph hong kong #hws hong kong #this one ended up being really short #sadly #but ah well #its kinda sweet

[cyncerity]

is bet on the crown tubbo a prince/does he have any magic fairy powers? also what are their(tubbo and ranboo's) backstories in general?

Yes!! He is a prince and he does have powers! I hope you dont mind that I’m gonna save a little bit of Tubbo’s backstory for a different post (totally not because I’m having trouble figuring out exactly how everything happened I totally know what I’m doing and am a very competent writer), but I do wanna go into detail about not only a little bit of Tubbo’s backstory, but his and Ranboo’s magic, too!

tw for talk of death and technically hard vore?? Idk it talks about drinking blood idk how to tw that.

Ok, so, faes are born with powers, and they’re one of the only species that is. They’re very powerful magic creatures, but their magic can be stripped from them by force. Faes tend to not be around other species (besides hybrids, because faes have a very good relationship with animals and this usually transfers over to hybrids respecting faes the same as their animal counterparts) because of the chance that they’ll be kidnapped and killed for their usefulness in spells and potions. Their wings can be ground up and used in potions, their antenna can be placed in wands and staffs to make the spells cast by them more powerful, and their blood, when mixed with other things, can induce the power that the fae had to whoever drank the blood. The last one has to be done very carefully, though, since fae blood is extremely poisonous and if mixed with the wrong materials in the wrong amount can cause death (fun fact: faes who are killed by people who then die by ingesting their blood wrong are given special burials and an honor status because of the karmic death they technically induced) ((can you tell I think more about stupid little cultural things about species than plot))

However, each faes blood holds a different power only relating to themselves, and a different affinity for magic they can learn. For example, a fae’s born talent may be super speed or something, but they have an affinity for water spells. Tubbo was born with super strength, and has an affinity for destruction spells. He hated this for a while, and tried (and failed) to do any other type of magic. Protection, healing, elementals, nothing worked. But he was fantastic at creating spells and eventually magic driven weapons of mass destruction.

That’s how he became a general for his village. Since faes are so powerful, as mentioned previously, they do have a bit of a problem with people trying to find and kill them. It’s why almost faes all live in the forest and hide their homes in trees. But fortunately for them, since they’re so magically gifted, spells and enchanted weapons don’t work nearly as well as a fae’s natural protection. The only weapons and spells that can be as powerful as a fae’s are the ones literally made from faes, as morbid as that is. So if a person comes to Tubbo’s village with a wand that can cast spells powerful enough to break their protection spells, it means a fae was killed to make that wand. It’s still possible to beat these people in a fight, since there’s a lot of fae in the village and said human only has the power of like one fae, but those fights are the worst.

Tubbo led a enough of these fights against humans with fae-powered weapons, potions, and spells that when their ruler stepped down, Tubbo was given the throne, since he had proved himself to be brave, able to steel his nerves, and more than capable enough to lead.

Endermen, on the other hand, while not natural magic users, are magic beings. The only ability they’re born with is teleportation. But, they have their own form of witchcraft, so they can do spells and make potions and such, even if they don’t have the natural magic talent that faes have. (Humans straight up just can’t do magic. Trying to learn spells just doesn’t work for them.)

Unfortunately, some endermen have used fae in spells before. In fact, for a long while, it was a huge cultural thing, which caused a lot of outrage from fae and led to their species being enemies for a long time. That has mostly stopped since their current prince is, y’know, married to a fae (people often wonder if the princes knew about the species history when they got engaged (they did they just couldn’t give less of a shit)), but that doesn’t mean it’s fully stopped. While most endermen and fae try to get along nowadays (well, the endermen at least, for their princes’ sake: plenty of faes hate that Tubbo married “the enemy” and a lot of them just moved to a different kingdom), some still just hate each other. Even Tubbo has been kidnapped once or twice by an endermen who just didn’t know who they were kidnapping. (Ranboo is nice, but isn’t nice enough to let someone who kidnapped his husband off completely free. Luckily for him, Tubbo usually has them “taken care of” when Ranboo finds him. Ie Tubbo is stuck in a cage and whoever kidnapped him is dead on the floor)(Ranboo has never and doesn’t ever plan to ask)

tw for vore under the cut, cause explaining this a bit more requires talk of vore:

The only thing that isn’t fully documented about how fae magic works is that if a fae is swallowed alive by an enderman, some of their natural power can be lended to them, though this can only be done through a fae’s conscious decision to lend their magic. So to put it simply, the only people who have ever successfully done this are Ranboo and Tubbo, since no enderman before Ranboo ever tried to befriend a fae before taking its magic and like hell would any fae give up their magic to a person who would use it to hurt their species, even if it meant saving their own life. So it’s just a Ranboo and Tubbo thing, and they’ll keep it that way, cause they don’t want other endermen and fae trying it. And so far no one has ever questioned why Ranboo occasionally just happens to have super strength, so they’re good.

#cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #bet on the crown au #tw vore mention #love writing useless cultural stuff for my aus that no one cares about

[twisted-legacies]

Teaser - The Desire of the Trammeled Commonwealth

No! 

No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! 

No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

A pink-haired woman stood helplessly in a crowd of people as they watched through a well a girl with brown hair and two black streaks fighting a being in draconic features-and it wasn’t hard to see who was winning the battle. 

The brunette’s outfit was torn to high heaven and was covered in blood and the girl had several wounds on her that where still bleeding, and the girl had a hard time even standing up while it seemed the dragon-like creature barely had a scratch on him and seemed quite. . . melancholy. The male figure clearly was speaking to the girl on the other side-but it was unclear what was being said as all noise sounded like. . . paint splattering and thorns tightening around something.

The pink-haired woman was shaking so badly was being held by a man with black hair and red eyes, who gripped the woman like he was afraid she would crumble if he let go. On the woman’s shoulder was a green chipmunk, desperately covering his eyes and curled into a ball in the pink-haired girl’s hair. There was a few others around her- there was another couple holding the hands with the pink haired and red eyed man, one a woman with black hair and blue eyes and the other a man with silver eyes. The two couples held each other with such fear that if they let go, something bad would happen. Close by, three people desperately grabbing at the well and its’ water and crying their eyes out, crying,  “Darling! Darling! No, Darling! Stop! You’ll get hurt! Just run, Quarry, run! Hide! Come home!” as if they wanted the people on the other side to hear, but the reflections in the well did not seem to hear.

Everyone in the room stop all at once, making the room fall dead quiet as in the well the girl fell to the ground, and several screams of a single name ran out into the room. 

No! 

Stop!

Quentin! 

The draconic figure walked up to the brunette, who seemed to be trying to sit up, as soon as the girl stood up, the draconic figure ripped a piece of the girl’s clothing and threw it into a nearby flame, before he turned back to the girl and spoke something and all that could be heard was the sound of thorns growing. The girl in the well didn’t respond in turn, but instead pulled out a small pin-like object and threw it at the figure that towered over her, to which a black ball of energy formed and blasted the nearby area, knocking the two being away from each other before the dragon-like figure used his wings to stop himself a few feet away. 

The girl, on the other hand spit out a black substance and shakily pulled something out of her jacket pocket that wasn’t torn-a small green stone, before she held it close to her mouth and suddenly, a voice echoed from the well. 

“Help me.” The girl’s voice was shaky and desperate, like a small rabbit running for its’ life in the face of death itself. 

In the well’s water, the girl started to cry and the tears fell on the gem making a ink-like substance appear in the gem and in the background, the fires started to go out of control, causing nearby things to catch on fire and then a wind with the tears blew around the girl, making the fires worse and knocking back the dragon-like man starting to flood the nearby areas but this also seemed to scare the fae. 

“Someone. . . Anyone. . . Help me. . . Help me defeat Malleus Draconia. . . Help me save Night Raven College. . . . Malleus-he doesn’t understand what he’s doing. . . Malleus was blessed with great magic but was sheltered because of it and doesn’t understand the inevitability of change. I can’t beat him on my own, he’s too strong. . . Please, I don’t care what you do to me, but these people shouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of Malleus’ lowest moment. Please.”

The room turned so cold not even a heart beat while the girl spoke.

The girl sounded so scared-like she knew for a fact she truly was cornered and was scared for the world would end at any second. The draconic figure seemed to cast a spell that quickly put out the flames and stop the wind and water before he seemed to try to yell something before trying to rush to the girl.

“I want someone to save me!” a whisper echoed through the room, as the girl clutched the gem for dear life like it was her lifeline and curled into a ball. 

And then, the well’s image disappeared. 

“Quentin!” Several people screamed at once and the several hands reached for the well’s water, but when their hands reached for the water, the water didn’t react.

“Cornelia!” The blonde haired girl clutching the well rushed towards a black haired woman standing in the back with a crown on her head. The blonde gripped unto the older woman for dear life, like if she let go, the noble woman wouldn’t take her seriously. “You can save-”

“Eadwine, I can’t reach her.” The woman spoke. “The gem was the last connection we had to her. This Malleus, his spell that he has around Night Raven College-I can’t find anyway to get in.”

“No! NO!” I won’t accept that!” The girl screamed. “Bring her back! Bring her home! Bring her home right now!”

“Eadwine-” A few people spoke up, and the two death-gripping the well rushed to the girl’s side and tightly hugged the blonde girl, who seemed to collapse in the two boy’s arms. 

“We can’t just let her die!” Eadwine screamed. “She’s all alone and dying in a foreign land without anyone to help her! She wished for someone to help, so we need to help her!”

“Eadwine, she may have gotten-” A man with brown hair and brown eyes started.

“Don’t give that bullshit Thaddeus! She was your apprentice, wasn’t she?” Eadwine’s eyes swelled with tears looking at the brown haired man with black eyes. “Are you just going to put your blind faith in a wish we don’t even know happened? Quentin has already Overblotted and nearly died because of because of that same blind faith!”

“Darling-” both of the boys spoke, which seemed to make Eadwine break and fell into the brown and blonde hair boy’s arms, who hugged her so tightly it seemed like it was crushing the girl, but the girl didn’t seem to mind, if anything seemed to make the girl sink ever more into their arms. 

“Quentin. . . My light, my heart, my life. . . I’ve failed you again. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry you married a woman that can’t even grant your wish you when you need it most. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything.”

Eadwine’s sobs eventually seemed to make the two boys holding start to cry, before the two couple went over to hug the three bent down and hugged the three on the ground and started to cry as well. 

Is. . . Is there really nothing we can do?

Quentin. . . 

Please, come home. 

I want you to come home.

I want to come to you smiling in your old blanket sitting by the fireplace, all wrapped up like a butterfly in its’ coccoon, waiting for its’ time to come out.

I want to see you in the flower field again, covered in those flowers that you’d always use the wind to make it rain on anyone in the castle.

I want to see you back in your chair in the library, reading a book like there’s nobody else that ever existed besides that book. 

The room seemed to be filled with suffocating sadness that ate at everything in the room where it sucked all emotions into its’ darkness, where the only thing thing that seemed to pierce through the darkness where pharses of grief. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I should have gone with you to Night Raven, then maybe this won’t have happened.”

“I should have never left your side, ever.” 

“I should have protected you like I promised.” 

“Things shouldn’t have turned out like this. . . It’s not fair.” 

“Where did it all go wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have ever let you leave Andalasia.”

“This. . . isn’t fair. This isn’t fair!”

It seemed all at once, the hearts of a people spoke at once. 

“Give me my life back!”

and something within Twisted Wonderland itself seemed to hear the call and responded. 

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst original character #twisted wonderland original character #[ 𝓘𝓼 𝓢𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻? ] - In Character #[ 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓐 𝓣𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓣𝓸 𝓑𝓮 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 ] - Canon Universe #[ 𝓐𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓪'𝓼 𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓮 ] - Quentin Nighy-Sallow #[ Oh bot would you look at that peeps. Selena is making content! What a concept! ]

[mytarnishedsilver]

Have you seen IVY around Faerune? She’s a FAERIE who SUPPORTS the Unseelie Queen’s reign. People have heard she’s INDEPENDENT, FRIENDLY, and POLITE but can also be STUBBORN, REBELLIOUS, and RESERVED. We’ll see where she falls when the revolution arrives, but until then she can be found working as a SERVER.

FAE NAME: [redacted]

FULL NAME: Ivy

FACECLAIM: Florence Pugh

BIRTHDATE: May 10, 1996 [27]

ZODIAC: Taurus

SPECIES: Faerie

FAE FORM: pointed ears, opalescent hair and nails, delicate dragonfly wings

IDENTITY: Cis Female, She/Her

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

ORIENTATION: Pansexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: (Secret) Girlfriend of Helena Theriot

OCCUPATION: Server at Maple Diner

HABITS: ignoring her parents, rejecting her birthright, looking out for her siblings

~ CHAPTER ONE ~ 

Read here.

~ CHAPTER TWO ~

Honestly, Ivy is relieved that the Unseelie Queen has taken over. It means her own family and Seelie Court supporters will stop pressuring her to become the princess they wanted her to be. She wants nothing to do with royalty and her heritage, she just wants to work at the diner and kiss her girlfriend, Helena Theriot.

Because of Helena’s father, Ivy’s taken to glamour herself as a man named Helix while with Helena in public, posing as a ‘male faerie suitor’ so if word ever gets back to Aloysius Theriot, he will think his daughter is seeing a man. She doesn’t like hiding herself, but she would do anything to ensure Helena’s happiness, and she knows she can be herself with Helena in private, even going so far as to showing Helena her true fae form only a few months into their relationship.

Helix’s faceclaim is Froy Gutierrez.

#ivy:bio2 #season2intro

[lunarcovehq]

Wilhelmina Fitz is a siren that currently resides in Echo Acres and has been a Lunar Cove resident for about a year luring residents into turning their radios on in the middle of the night.

ITS THE END OF THE WORLD

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her

DATE OF BIRTH: February 14, 1999

OCCUPATION: Late Night DJ at Siren’s Sounds

FACECLAIM: Anya Taylor Joy

AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

SPECIES: Fae

SUBCATEGORY: Siren

FAE COURT POSITION: High Fae

AGE THEY APPEAR: 23

WELCOME TO LUNAR COVE, BILLIE FITZ

Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse

Wilhelmina “Billie” Fitz doesn’t much remember her mother. The woman was in and out of her life for the first few years before she just disappeared completely like vapor. It was okay, though, because her dad stayed, and her dad loved her, and her dad wanted her to be just like him: a hunter of supernatural beings. Her childhood was filled with travel and training, the two of them moving across Europe to meet with others like them. Except Billie wasn’t really like them. She started having strange dreams from a young age, dreams full of water and song. She wasn’t comfortable with the jobs of her father and his friends, though she knew she should be. They were doing what was right. They were helping humanity.

The only problem was that Billie wasn’t human, a fact that was quickly discovered once she hit puberty. Her body changed, and not in ways she expected. The wings were bad, but at least they were controllable sometimes. The tail, though, was a problem, along with the abilities that made her eyes glow and the weather change to be as stormy as her moods. No, Billie wasn’t human, she was something far, far worse, and there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. It wasn’t something that her father would understand, so it wasn’t something that she could tell him. Billie did the best that she could to hide her unnatural abilities, managing to slide under the radar for a few years. After all, a hunter does not look for their quarry among one of their own. 

However, time and experience and her very being made Billie feel more and more uncomfortable with her father’s occupation. It was impossible for her to feel comfortable hunting others that weren’t that different from her at all. Billie wanted to believe her father, that what he was doing was for a greater good, for humanity, but it was getting hard to be human. Billie didn’t know how she ended up this way, but she wasn’t human. She was uncomfortable with going on hunts, something that caused many arguments with her father, until one night, in a moment of stress, the sounds of their arguments were accompanied by a change in weather, a shift in the breeze, and an unnatural glow to Billie’s eyes. Finally, her father saw her for what she was, and there was no going back. 

To call it a fight would be to give Billie more credit than she was due. Her father called her a monster, and all she could do, would do, was run. She managed to escape to the sea and ended up spending a few months beneath the waves, trying to figure out what to do with her life now that it had been turned upside down. She might not have agreed with her father about so many things, but she still loved him. She’d hoped that he would still love her, but hope is a funny thing, a trifling thing. 

The ocean wasn’t for Billie, not for an extended stay, and she eventually made it to land, now across the pond without any identification or direction. She drifted for a time, staying along the coasts of New England before stumbling into the town of Lunar Cove. The air felt different there, and, while Billie chafed at the thought of being near so many other supernaturals, it was as good of a place to blend in. For the last year, she has worked the graveyard shift at Siren Sounds Radio, tending to fill the dead-of-night hours with classical music and show tunes, taking up residence in the outskirts of town in Echo Acres, near the river, and minding her own business by staying as far away from supernatural politics as she possibly can.

#billie fitz #wilhelmina fitz #taken fae #anya taylor joy #echo acres #all #siren sounds #fae court member

[writer-akihiko]

so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

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