#her family would hate her disbelief in magic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

velidewrites · 1 year

Text

Fifteen years after Feyre Archeron and her family disappear in the middle of the night, the Prince of the Night Court enters the Blood Rite, determined to prove himself worthy of his title.

He doesn't expect to be hunted by someone he believed to be dead—until she aims her arrow for his heart.

Pairing: Feyre Archeron x Rhysand

Tags: Feysand Blood Rite AU, Illyrian!Feyre, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of angst and then basically just porn, this was really just an excuse to write feysand having cave sex (they fuck in a cave i don't know what to tell you), feyre tries to kill him and he's immediately on his knees, dual POV

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, blood and injury, and death; explicit sexual content in later chapters

Note: This is my submission for @sjmromanceweek! Hope you enjoy <3

Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 || AO3

Chapter 2: Feyre

Having Rhysand on his knees before her might just have been the prettiest sight she’d ever seen.

The years had been more than kind to him, the prick. The last time she saw him, he was no more but an overgrown bat, crying about not getting his wings yet. Now, though…damn him. He was probably the most beautiful male she’d ever seen.

Tall and muscular, those damn thighs bulging under his Illyrian leathers as he knelt. Having spent most of his life in Windhaven’s ruthless training must have paid off in the end. Strong arms, a wide chest and large hands, roughened by some kind of battle. Fifteen years later, Rhysand looked as though Ramiel, the warrior mountain, had birthed him itself—crafted from wind and stone, and the wild, raging sea beyond.

And on top of that, there was his stupid face.

It was unfair, really. The other males must’ve utterly despised him—despised his jaw, sharp enough to cut steel, his proud nose, his full mouth that she was certain had indulged many females over the years. And his eyes—they must’ve despised his eyes, especially.

Because while everything else about him had changed, those eyes stayed exactly as she remembered.

A shade of blue so deep they were almost violet—like the sky slipping from the late hours of the dusk and further into the night. Looking into Rhysand’s eyes felt like flying—like the countless journeys she’d taken at the Continent, her wings taking her high up to the stars when no one cared to watch. When she felt the most free.

Dangerous—his eyes were so dangerous. She could get lost in them if she looked for a second too long.

Mercifully, Rhysand blinked again in disbelief, and the spell was broken.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered, and damn him, even his voice was nice.

Feyre scoffed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

That violet gaze slipped to her arrow’s tip. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked carefully, and her eyes narrowed.

“Would you rather I sing you a song first?”

A slight angle of his head made his midnight hair shimmer under the sunlight. “You haven’t changed,” Rhys noted.

Something heavy fell to the pit of her stomach at that, and Feyre clenched her jaw. “I’ve changed more than you can try to imagine,” she told him stiffly. “Get up,” she ordered.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, and every second of it was torture. She hated the way those eyes surveyed her, the way they took in her face, as if he was learning every inch of it all over again and writing it into his memory. His back straightened, and he met her stare again. “You can hunt,” he observed, something shifting in his tone at that. Sadness…regret?

Feyre shrugged. “Among other things.”

His gaze slid down to her bow again. “How many of them have you killed so far?”

Her smile went feline. “Not nearly enough.”

Rhysand’s dark brows knotted. “How did you enter the Blood Rite?” he asked. “This place is bound by magic.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The bow was starting to grow heavy in her grip, and this conversation was pointless anyway. “You know, for a Prince, you know surprisingly little of your own hellhole,” she said.

“This hellhole used to be your home.”

Feyre flinched, that thing in her gut growing heavier, somehow. “Those days are behind me, thank the Mother,” forcing a lightness into her tone. She didn’t care anymore—she didn’t care about anything.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. “What happened to you?”

“As if you don’t already know,” she drawled.

“I don’t,” he said. “Feyre, I swear.”

Feyre sighed and rolled her eyes again. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this.” She drew the arrow again.

Just shoot him, fool, and be done with it.

“Wait!” he yelled, stumbling back a step. “Feyre, please. I don’t want to kill you.”

Feyre almost laughed. “You don’t want to kill me? Rhysand, darling, did that brute hit your head a little too hard?”

“I am the future High Lord,” he said, as if that was a convincing argument enough, and she wasn’t the one with a weapon pointed at his chest.

Feyre teased, “Now you haven’t changed one bit.”

“Feyre.” She hated the way he said her name. As if he’d missed her. “Where have you been?

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, High Lord.”

Rhys took a step towards her. “That night, you left.” She knew exactly which night he was referring to. “Where did you go?”

“I left?” the question came out high-pitched, and Feyre grimaced. She was allowing this male to get on her nerves, and if she wanted to win this Cauldron-damned thing, losing her cool was the last thing she needed.

But the prick continued, “I searched the entire forest, looking—”

“Don’t you dare finish this sentence," she threatened.

“Looking for you.”

“Lies,” Feyre snarled.

“Feyre, no—”

Feyre drew the string farther back, and Rhysand’s eyes widened—but not on her.

No, they fixed on something over her shoulder.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Feyre whipped back, but the male’s breath was already hot on her neck.

At least two heads taller than her, he seemed completely unbothered by the arrow aimed at his throat—instead, he lowered his head and gripped her tightly, his two, large hands heavy on her biceps.

The other male—his friend, she guessed—snickered beside him. “A female? How absolutely delicious.”

“Stay away from her,” Rhys growled behind her.

“Shut up, Rhysand.”

“You know this pretty little thing, Rhysie?”

“I’m going to kill him first, I think,” the first of the males said, glancing at the heavy sword strapped to his side before grinning at Feyre again. “I’ll show you how a real Illyrian plays, how about that, huh, sweetheart?”

The other male’s nostrils flared. “Looks like he already got to Boreas,” he said, pointing at the body she’d killed a mere few minutes ago. “Was he the one that fucked your nose up so bad, Rhysie?”

“I killed him,” Feyre declared.

The male holding her down grunted. “Don’t make me laugh. You couldn’t shoot an Illyrian male even if he stood two feet before you.”

Feyre sneered. “Try me.”

At that, the male smiled, his eyes sliding over her body in a long look that made her gut twist in disgust. “Oh, I will, sweetheart. Happily.”

“Feyre,” Rhys’s voice was surprisingly calm. “When I tell you to run, run.”

She rolled her eyes. “I told you to shut up, Rhysand.”

And with that, she released her arrow.

She’d almost missed, her hands restrained harshly enough to distract her aim—but thankfully, the bastard’s neck was large.

Blood splattered from his throat and onto her face, and he stumbled back, freeing her from his grasp at last. The other male lunged for her, but Feyre was quicker—a kick of her leg sending him back a few inches and giving her enough time to gather herself.

Rhysand was already moving, a knife suddenly appearing in his hand, and Feyre snarled. This was her hunt, her prey—she wouldn’t let him ruin her fun.

Feyre drew her bow at the winged male when something tackled her to the ground.

With the last remnants of his strength, the Illyrian whose neck she’d pierced her arrow through had her pinned down, throwing his huge body over her with a gurgling cough. Feyre swore loudly, thrashing under him, but he was too heavy, too solid, even with his life slipping away from him by the minute.

Her chest felt tight, squashed under the weight of the muscled body over hers, and she inhaled sharply to no effect. Rhysand shouted her name, and she tried to take another breath—to no effect.

Feyre thrashed and thrashed until her body grew too weak to move. The last thing she saw was Rhysand slicing his opponent’s neck before her vision went dark.

***

He left her at the forest’s edge, hidden between the trees. Safe.

Rhysand got to her the second after she passed out, after all the air in her lungs had been pushed out by the heavy bastard bleeding out over her. He’d stabbed him again, for good measure, after taking him off of her and making sure her chest fell back into a steady rhythm. Only after he’d made sure the two intruders were already dead did Rhys finally allow himself to breathe, too.

He’d carried her away from the small clearing where she’d found him, so that she could regain her strength undisturbed. He wanted to stay with her so badly—to wait until she woke up and make sure she was okay.

But Feyre had tried to kill him, and for some reason, Rhysand didn’t doubt that she would try to do it again.

Now, with the sun already set over the horizon and having crossed the frozen lake, Rhysand sat in the shadows of yet another cave, finally allowing his mind to race.

Feyre Archeron was alive.

How was this even possible? How did she manage to survive? Her mother and father had both been found the same night they’d fled Windhaven—cold, bloodied and buried in the red-stained snow. They said her father was almost unrecognisable, and that they had to piece him back together limb by limb to confirm that it was, in fact, the fallen Lord Archeron.

How did she escape the beast? Where did she escape to? Were her sisters with her, or did they suffer the same fate as their parents?

How did he not find her in the woods?

The questions ran too fast through his mind, too many of them at once and none of them with a clear answer. He was starting to feel light-headed, the stone floor beneath him feeling softer, somehow, as if it shifted under his weight.

Rhysand sighed and rubbed his eyes. For now, the only thing that mattered was that Feyre was alive. He would ask her about everything else later.

If she didn’t kill him first.

With that thought, Rhysand fell into a restless sleep.

***

Rhysand woke up with a heavy boot on his neck.

“Morning, princess,” someone greeted in a low, mocking tone. “Welcome to the land of the living.”

“Don’t worry,” another male chimed in. “We’ll send you back in no time.”

Rhysand’s eyes shot open, and he was temporarily blinded by the sunlight peering through the opening of the cave before two tall silhouettes came into sight.

The Blood Rite, it seemed, would not offer him a single moment of peace.

Unlike the two from yesterday, he’d never met these males. He’d hardly ever left Windhaven, not with his training coming to a close, and whenever he had, it would be far away from the Illyrian territory. They must’ve come from a different village—somewhere in the Steppes, if he had to guess, judging by the swirling ink around their muscled arms—a deep shade of brown, rather than the usual black.

Rhysand grunted, reaching for the leg hovering above him, but his hand was quickly pinned to the ground by another leather boot.

Its owner clicked his tongue loudly. “Ah, ah ah. Not so fast,” he warned. “We got quite lucky to find you, you see. Some of us have a bet going on—the first one of us to bring back your head gets quite a generous sum in return.”

A low growl reverberated through his chest. “From who,” he choked out.

The males laughed. “Oh, Rhysand. You really are as dumb as your father told us.”

Rhys stopped breathing entirely.

There was no chance in hell they were telling the truth—or was there?

Perhaps this had been another one of Father’s cruel tests—a sick, twisted way of getting his son to prove his worth as the sole heir to the title of the High Lord of the Night Court. If so, this must’ve been the worst test yet.

Think, think, think, his mind shouted, calling for his focus, and Rhysand gritted his teeth. He would make them pay. And then, he would pay his dear father a visit.

Maybe he would take Cassian and Azriel with him. They’d been wanting to kill the bastard long enough, and Rhysand hardly minded it being a group effort.

“Get off of me,” he snarled, “and let’s fight like Illyrians.”

The males cackled again.

“See, Rhysand,” one of them said. “There’s only one problem with that logic.”

The other male smiled. “You’re not Illyrian.”

Rhysand’s fists tightened.

And then, a shadow appeared behind his captors.

“There you are,” a smooth, female voice—her voice—said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

The two males turned, and Feyre Archeron smiled. “Thank you for finding him for me.”

And then, she attacked.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @reverie-tales @stardelia

#sjmromanceweek2023 #feysand au #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #feysand #pro feysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing

73 notes · View notes

metalomagnetic · 10 months

Note

What do you think about James/Regulus? It's surprisingly a more popular ship than I would have guessed. I am curious as what your thoughts are.

Also what do you think about Lucius/Severus? What do you think about James/Severus- I think that they would be so toxic that it is kinda compelling.

I wonder what you think about Bellatrix/Molly- it started off as a crack ship but hear me out. I kept thinking about how Molly was able to kill Bellatrix in a duel despite Bellatrix being being a formidable duellist who at one pointed was personally tutored by Voldemort. I know that JKR intended it as a power of maternal love and blah blah but if you take it literally it means Molly is just a more powerful fighter. I think that they provide interesting foils to each other yet I think that they have some similarities in how they have defined by their relationship with their families/men and their fierce loyalty to their respective leaders. Also I like imagining a teenage Bellatrix who is incensed by Molly who bests her in their duels.

I am neutral on James/Regulus. It sounds like Harry/Draco to me, only with Sirius probably losing his mind in the background 😂

I don't like Lucius/Severus, I enjoy them as friends, more. Plus I think Narcissa is friends with Severus, and I am loathe to hurt Narcissa.

I hate Molly, so I don't ship her with anyone. Not even with poor Arthur.

I could suspend my disbelief on a lot of things in the books- the magic, the many plot holes, a teenager killing the most powerful dark lord etc. I could just go with it. What pulled me out completely was house wife Molly standing a chance against solider Bellatrix. After that happened, I laughed at the absurdity for half an hour and I got completely detached from the rest of the book. I read it without a smidgeon of interest left. I wish Dora would have killed Bellatrix, or Andromeda, hell, even Neville (who certainly did more fighting in his last year at Hogwarts than Molly did in her life). McGonagall would have been the best option- you can still have the mother love thing (after all Minerva is a sort of mother to all Hogwarts students) but it would be believable. McGongall is the one that parallels Bella, with her loyalty to Dumbledore, with her knowledge of magic etc. Hell, even Neville's grandma would have been a better choice than Molly, I'm sorry, I can't get over it still, so many years later 😂

35 notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 7 months

Text

Through Love And By Love (Pt. 10)

Summary: Twenty-Two years ago, Draco Malfoy used the imperius curse to slow Voldemort’s rise to power. No good deed goes unpunished. Warning: this series contains mature subject matter surrounding use of the imperius curse, discussions of trauma and mental illness; reader discretion advised.

Part 9

Scorpius loves Hogwarts. Anything anyone says about him or his parentage is easy enough to ignore. He’ll be a third year in September. But today he is home. Today they are all home, for Leo’s wedding.

"I invited grandma and grandpa Malfoy." Leo tells her mother. "Do you think they'll come?"

"I don't know," Rosanna zips the bride to be carefully into her gown.

"I know they're mad, but they'll come. Don't you think?" Leo lets out a nervous laugh. They don’t want her to marry a squib; but surely, some outdated prejudice wouldn't have them miss her big day.

Rosanna sighs, deeply. "This is your day. I don't want you worried about anything."

"What's the big deal about Henry not having magic? He can't control it, it's hardly like he asked to be without it. He works hard and makes a decent living and-"

Rosanna touches her shoulder, to stop her rambling, "they love you, it's just how they are."

"But why?" Leo's brows furrow, "it's stupid!"

"I agree-"

"But better to keep it in the family than marry anything but a pureblood? I know they wanted Dad to marry Astoria Greengrass." Leo shakes her platinum head. "I did my research, they're cousins."

"Very distant." Rosanna informs her, nearly all pureblood families are related somewhere.

"Why are you defending them?" Leo says, in disbelief. Her father’s parents were pleasant enough to her mother, almost as if they loved her, while hating the fact that they did.

"What color is the sky?" Rosanna asks, throwing a curve ball.

"What?" Leo snaps around to look at her mother, thinking she's finally lost it.

"Just humor me for a second, what color?" Rosanna begins again, patiently.

"Blue." Leo narrows her brown eyes.

"How do you know what blue is?" Rosanna raises a brow.

Leo scoffs, "you taught me."

"What if I told you it was yellow instead? Would you have believed me?"

"I guess so." Leo still doesn't understand where this is headed.

"So the sky is yellow, if I tell you it's yellow. Because you trust me, and you don't know any better." Rosanna reiterates.

"Ok, the sky's yellow." Leo says, "so what?"

"Well no, the sky's blue." Rosanna chuckles.

"Mum!" Leo snarls.

"Imagine the frustration and confusion you feel. You've gone your whole life thinking the sky was yellow. Realistically you know the sky must be blue, because that's how the rest of the world sees it. But wouldn't it be easier to keep pretending that the sky is yellow; if your friends and family thought it was too? Especially if you knew that accepting the sky is blue would have you disowned?" Rosanna explains further, to put into perspective, the pressure a person must feel.

"Well...I guess." Leo gets it. "That's still not an excuse."

"I'm not trying to excuse them. I'm just trying to explain as best I can."

"They came to your wedding," Leo says, bitterly.

"Maybe they'll surprise us," Rosanna smiles, rubbing her daughter's arms, reassuringly.

Leo nods, "where's dad?"

"Last I saw him, he was trying to wrangle Corina into her dress." Corina, their one and an half year old daughter, is a spitting image of her mother, which pleases Draco to no end. But she also has his own dramatic tendencies, which does not please him nearly as much.

"You know, you guys had five great kids," Leo says, teasingly. "But you had to push your luck for just one more. You should have stopped while you were ahead."

"I'll have you know, your father wanted at least a half dozen more of you." Rosanna flicks Leo's shoulder, playfully. "I pulled the plug, thank you very much."

————————————————————————-

"Corina, straighten your legs." Draco coos, the little girl draped across his lap diagonally.

"No, no, no." She screeches.

"Please, darling," Draco huffs, holding the stockings firmly. "You'll tear your tights."

"Go, bye bye." Corina demands, strawberry blonde curls frizzing as her head tosses back and forth against his suit jacket.

"You will go bye bye, after you're dressed." Draco promises.

"Nooooo. Daddy!" The little beast howls, thrashing in his arms.

"Stop it, you're going to hurt yourself."

She burst into crocodile tears, her mouth open in an obscenely wide sob.

"Shh, I'm sorry. I know you're tired." He kisses her head ten times over.

"Mummy." The little girl cries. Corina was having a hard time breaking from nursing. She still wants Rosanna whenever she is tired or upset.

————————————————————————

"I am sorry, Rosanna but she needs you, now." Draco bursts into the room, with the heartbroken little girl. Still wearing only a diaper, her tiny dress slung over his shoulder and her tights dangling from one foot.

"Come here, my angel," Rosanna coos, taking the baby into her arms. "What did daddy do to you?" She tuts her husband, teasingly as she pulls down the left side of her dress.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Leo winces for her mother.

"I'm flattered you think I can still feel my nipples, after nursing six of you." Rosanna smiles.

"Can't you?" Leo asks, a horrified expression taking over her features.

"She feels her nipples just fine." Draco chuckles, kissing the back of his wife's head.

"Dad!" Their daughter flushes scarlet.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He apologizes, realizing his slip up.

Rosanna presses her lips together to contain a laugh.

The room is silent for a moment.

Draco finally gets a good look at his eldest child, after the chaos. She is a vision, in her angelic white wedding gown. Though she has not lived at home for some years, marriage felt much more...permanent. "Can't we keep you?" His voice breaks.

"Dad," Leo crosses the room to embrace him. "You have five more to keep you entertained. You'll be fine."

"But I only have one Leo; and I will miss you, my darling girl. I'm so proud of you, the woman you've become." He kisses her cheek, lightly.

"I love you, Dad," Leo breathes, "I'll still be around. It’s a wedding, not a funeral." She reminds him.

"Yes, I know." Draco squeezes her once more, before drawing back. "I love you too."

————————————————————————

For Narcissa it was never a question, this is her granddaughter's wedding; she’s going.

Lucius however will not listen to reason. "I will not watch my granddaughter reduce her life and namesake to rubbish and marry a muggle."

"Don't you want to be there for Leo? To see her happy? This is her day, she's asked you to be there." Narcissa trails after her husband, in frustration.

"What would you have me do?" Lucius turns back to her, narrows his eyes, "I can't give my blessing."

“Didn’t we say the same thing with Draco?” Narcissa holds firm in her decision. “Rosanna was a disgrace to our bloodline, wasn’t she? My parents disowned my sister for marrying into dirty blood. I was not meant to love that girl. That perfectly wonderful little girl who was forced to grow up too fast.” Narcissa swallows down the lump in her throat. “Bellatrix said she would be a curse upon this family. But she was wrong. I grew to love that half blood girl. Love her like my own daughter. I love her children and I will love her children’s children, and their children’s children after that.”

“Rosanna is the exception, she is not the rule.” Loving her does not negate the need to keep magic in their family line. “Putting aside all else, here are the facts. Leo will outlive him, squibs die out the same as muggles. If she has children, and they are squibs, she will bury her children. They will never wield a wand, never fly a broom, never know what it feels like to receive a Hogwarts letter. Is that the life you want for Leo?"

“Lucius…it’s her life. We can make suggestions, surely, but we cannot dictate what she does with it.”

“I only want the best for her.”

“Suppose this is the best for her, it just looks a bit different than we thought it would.”

————————————————————————

Leo's wedding is perfect and without incident. Which is nearly unheard of for a Malfoy affair.

The reception is equally beautiful, under an ivory tent behind the manor. Leo and Henry are both elated to dance into the night. They would take a red eye out of London that night for a two week honeymoon in Hawaii, before quidditch picks up again.

Corina has taken up residence in 'Won's' arms. She adores her mother's good friend.

Rosanna finds them, near the dessert table, when Draco heads to relieve himself. "So, not as much fun as you remember, huh?"

"I gotta tell you, this kid's a laugh," Ron answers, "good company."

"Don't let Hermione hear you say that, she asked me to cure your baby fever." Ro confesses, around a mouthful of Ron's abandon pastry.

"I dunno what the big deal is. I want to have just one more. Maybe if you talked to her-"

"No thanks." Rosanna cuts him off. She'd been caught up in their spats one too many times.

"If you plant the seed, next time you're at the spiral class-"

"It's called a spin class, because you're on a bike." Rosanna laughs, picking at his plate, for anything else that hasn't been gnawed on.

"Come on, help a guy out, Ro. I want one of these." His eyes drift down to the child in his lap.

"I'll mention it, but that is all." Rosanna narrows her eyes at him. "I'm getting too old for this."

Harry and Ginny make their way over.

"What are you two in cahoots about now? Eating up all the sweets?" Ginny asks as she takes a seat.

"Ron wants me to convince Hermione to have another baby. I'm still trying to figure out why he thinks Hermione can be talked into things." Rosanna explains, crossing her legs beneath the table.

"You're her best friend, and you work together; see her more than I do I reckon."

"I work with her too, Ron." Harry points out, "why haven't you asked me?"

"Well...you're not a bird." Ron explains, lifting one shoulder, "it won't be as impactful coming from you."

"What won't be impactful?" Hermione asks, joining the conversation.

"I thought you went to the loo?" Ron tries to change the subject.

"I did, and now I'm finished; what's going on?" Hermione knows him like the back of her hand.

Ron’s ears flush, deep scarlet at the tips. He’s been caught. "I know you think I don't know what I'm asking, but I do. I want to have another baby with you, my wife, who I love very much."

Rosanna places her hand at the base of the champagne flute Hermione is sipping from, encouraging her to finish the glass before answering. "You can't be serious!"

————————————————————————

Polaris has always been monumentally different from her sisters. Most notably Vega, her twin. Almost as if they were polar opposites. But Vega was always there, always around. Until they were sorted into separate houses. They didn't share a room, or clothes, or even a class schedule. At first it was nice, the distinction; then it was more lonely than either of them anticipated.

After Vega befriended her new roommate, Arlene; Polaris felt more distant from her than ever.

Arlene saw that Vega was different. Very quiet, reserved, and hated to sleep in her bed. She'd often find the Malfoy girl, curled up anywhere but in her assigned sleeping area. One night in particular, the platinum blonde is draped over an arm chair in the common room.

Arlene leans in, to tap her shoulder. Vega's pale skin barely brushes the pads of her fingers, the contact instantly jolts her awake.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vega snaps, drawing in on herself.

"Why don't you go to bed?" Arlene frowns.

"I can't sleep in that bed." Vega informs her.

"And why not?" The other girl crosses both arms, over her chest.

"Because it was my Mum's, and when I lay in it... I see things." Vega whispers, into the dimly lit room.

"What kind of things?" Arlene wonders, taking a seat on the couch, opposite her.

"Things that happened. Not to me." A thousand laughs, a thousand tears, none of them are her's.

"We could switch beds, but I'm not sure who mine belonged to." Arlene offers, she knew of Vega long before she met her. Her mother is one of the most well known legilimens of all time. Vega must take after her.

"Lavender Brown." Vega says, the bed aside of her mother's used to be Hermione's. "They moved everything around so no one would be particular when given room assignments."

"Maybe it'll be easier for you there?" Arlene hopes so, the girl deserves a proper bed.

"Or maybe I'll see you." Vega tells her.

"I'm not so bad." Arlene smiles, "quiet boring really, my life; compared to yours."

"Boring sounds pretty brilliant." Vega grins in return, "thank you."

————————————————————————

Polaris likes Arlene well enough. But she all but sprints from the crowded dance floor, when she overhears them dreaming up a life together.

Harry's oldest son notices Polaris leaving, just as he's gathered the nerve to ask her to dance. James follows her, to the outskirts of the lawn. Near the cast iron fence that separates their estate from the rest of the world. "Polaris, wait up!"

"Bugger off, James." She sneers, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her ice blue eyes.

"Oi, I'm here to help." James rakes a hand through his dark hair.

"How are you gonna to do that?" Polaris scoffs, of course, perfect James Potter, thinks he can fix everything.

"Dunno really," He admits, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. "I'm rubbish at this sort of thing. But I'm here."

"I heard Vega talking to Arlene...about doing something like this, after they graduate." The icy blonde tells him.

"So?" James shrugs.

"So, it pissed me off." She snaps, tracing a finger down the dark metal beside her.

The boy chortles, "go on then, tell me how chuffed you are at the idea of your sister being happy."

"How can people just settle? All that life to live, all the potential and possibilities and you just...get married? And they're so happy about it! Leo will be thrilled to leave the Holyheads and have a baby. Arlo and Marko basically have an entire ceremony planned. And Vega, we shared a womb for nine entire months! She's completely content to move into a hole in the wall with her little girlfriend." Polaris seethes, she is envious of her sisters. Not because she doesn’t want them to be happy, no, not that at all. Rather because they're content to be 'normal'...and she isn’t.

James chuckles, Polaris is something between a friend and a girlfriend. They snogged, he asked her out, she shot him down, and then snogged him some more. "What's so wrong with that?"

"I don’t want to settle,” she whispers.

"Then don’t." James smirks, at the back of her head. Thick hair beginning to break free of its barrette.

"Really?"

"I think you're afraid of what comes after graduation, you haven't got a proper plan. It's ok that you don't."

"You're not just saying that to stay in my good graces?" Polaris turns to him, full lips quirked in an accusatory grin.

He raises a shoulder, "I do want to be in your good graces, Polaris. But I meant what I said.” He tugs a loose piece of platinum hair. “I don't want to settle either."

"You won't wait on me forever."

"Maybe I will.” They’re only seventeen and he’s not opposed to playing the long game. Polaris is a piece of work, but he likes that about her; loves it even.

"Shut up." She bites back a grin, glancing up at the sky as it begins to darken. "Holy dark mark in the sky at my sister's wedding."

"Way to change the subject." James turns from her, to have a look. "Holy dark mark in the sky at your sister's wedding."

————————————————————————

Lucius waits his turn to dance with his granddaughter.

Leo smiles when she finds him there, accepting his outstretched hand. “You came.”

He gives a curt nod, his blonde hair is down, same as Draco’s, schooled straight and sleek for the occasion.

“I didn’t think you would.”

“You can thank your grandmother, she talked me into it.”

“I’m glad she did.” Leo admits.

“As am I.” The confession is quick, as though it were unpleasant.

Behind her grandfather, Leo can see Polaris rush back into the tent. Her blue eyes are wide, glossy, cheeks flushed from running, her hair fallen around her face from its careful updo. James is there, holding her. Not taunting, teasing or tugging at her the way he normally would. Holding her like she is in danger.

“Dad!” The sound of it is horrid, retched from Polaris’ throat.

Draco’s eyes find her, immediately rushing to her aid. “What is it?” He checks her over thoroughly, brushing sweat damp tresses behind her ears.

“The mark was in the sky.”

“What?” Had Fred and George sent up some sort of fireworks and spooked her?

“The dark mark was in the sky.” Polaris jerks on his hands, the way she would as a child, asking him to banish the monster beneath her bed.

“You stay right there.” Draco orders, breaking away to see for himself. Sure enough, the sky is lit up. The skull and snake.

Part 11

#through love and by love #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x oc #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x oc #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter #Ron weasley #Hermione granger #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy

19 notes · View notes

countrymusiclover · 2 months

Text

45 - No Normal Conversations

Part 46

Family is More than Blood

@secretdreamlandmentality

Klaus and Ethan had went their separate ways leaving me alone by myself standing outside the office wooden door. Fiddling with the fabric of my shirt I sucked in a breath not wanting to nosey yet dying to know all at the same time. Caroline and Missy had been in there talking for close to two hours nonstop. “Fuck it, Raelyn.” I cursed under my breath moving my ear against the door great full for vamp hearing.

“Missy, I'm sorry this has become a huge struggle for you. This is never an easy task for even experienced vampires.” Caroline was the first one to speak in the conversation.

On the inside of the office Missy sighed heavily sitting down in the nearest chair. “I don't want him to turn and then regret it. I mean I've heard aunt Rebekah and aunt Elena how they hate it.”

“Hey, no vampire turning experience is ever the same story. I mean I got killed by Katherine shoving a pillow over my face after she posed as my best friend.” Caroline clasped her hands together lowering herself down on a knee to be eye level with her. “Melissa, I want you to listen to me. Having concerns over this is completely normal.”

She wiped underneath her nose sniffing. “I just don't know what the right call is. I…I've never turned anyone before and then there's the whole sire bond control and how well he can control his desire for blood. The only simple thing would be making him a daylight ring.”

“We'll just take it one step at a time. I will be here for you along with your parents.” Caroline declared from what I could hear until someone came walking around the corner drawing my attention away from it.

“Raelyn, can I ask you something…Are you snooping on your daughter?” Jacob paused in his steps in front of me.

I take a step backwards from the door. “No.”

“Rae, you're lying when you bite your lip.” He challenged me.

I gasped huffing my arms crossed over my chest. “I do not!”

“Yes, you do.” Jacob sent me a look. “Anyway, with you having been a heretic longer than I have is there any chance that you could make certain parts of me function again?”

“I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?” If I had been drinking something I would have choked on it. Covering my mouth I coughed into my hand.

My twin brother held his hands in front of himself. “I am asking if you can make it where I can give Hayley more children.”

“Jacob, I…I don’t think it is possible. And I don’t have my magic ability at the moment.” I shake my head in disagreement feeling goosebumps crawl up my skin at the thought of taking my magic back at this time.

Jacob dropped his hands to his side. “Rae, please think about this for a second. Andrea is the only child we have.”

“And that’s a reasonable reason for me to take back my powers when you haven’t comprehended that I nearly tried to harm everyone in this school. That’s the reason I put it away in Jo’s hunting knife.” I parted my

Ips in disbelief.

“Raelyn, you keep popping out babies. Like I'm glad you can but goddamn you have an army of supernatural soldiers.” Jacob suddenly snapped at me catching me off guard.

I dropped my mouth open. “J…I…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough here.” Jacob stomped up to me snatching my wrists and I winced feeling him siphoning from me. “If you won’t help me then just teach me the spell and I’ll do it myself!”

Shoving him against the wall with vampire speed I showed my fangs to him. “It’s not a spell that gave me that ability, Jacob!”

“Then what was it?” He spat back at me.

I sniffed through some tears not wanting to remember all that time without him in my life. “Esther tried to kill all of her children until I siphoned her dark magic away. Uncle Joshua tricked me into becoming the Leader of our Coven. Her power was killing me until I died becoming a heretic. Only my stomach is still mortal it's not something I can do without using black magic.”

“You’re gonna make me say what I’ll regret saying to you aren’t you?” He asked me.

My eyes shifted to focus directly on my brother's eyes. I never thought we would be having a fight like this and it scared me the second the words slipped from my mouth. “Say what, J?”

“You’re being selfish, Rae. You’re being selfish by not even considering the possibility of doing the spell if I hadn’t asked you.” Jacob flashed his fangs, pushing me away with his hands roughly where I stumbled into the wooden wall behind me.

I grunted, pressing my back against the wall, remaining almost stuck to it out of fear. “Jacob…”

“What the hell is going out here?” The office door opened and Caroline stood in the doorway with a hand on her hip scowling.

My twin brother rolled his eyes, vamping off without another word. “Nothing that concerns you, Forbes. Just my sister being extremely selfish.”

“Raelyn, what is he talking about?” The blonde turned her head at me.

I slowly pushed myself away from the world, still processing what had just happened before my own eyes. “Uh…I have no idea. I..I need some air.” Vamping off in the distance of the mansion I got away from there as fast as possible. Entering a bedroom upstairs I felt my whole body shaking and my heart inside my chest was tightening even if it no longer beats to keep me alive.

Gripping fists full of my hair I paced back and forth around the room. Someone vamped in the bedroom while I reached up on the dresser for the knife. Drawing the blade down into my right palm I felt the burning of my magic inside of me even though I had none currently. “Raelyn, is everything alright?”

“Phasmatos triut nas ex veras, maquis dumnas rotenem-“ I clutched the hunting knife in my hands with the window glass behind me beginning to shake and shatter into pieces until someone snatched it from my hands and I couldn’t feel the tingling anymore.

Klaus was the one who had come into the room. “Rae, what the hell are you doing?” He held the knife away from my reach.

“Destroying where my magic is stored because my brother now hates me.” I attempted to reach for it but he saw my movement before I could make it. Klaus grabbed my wrists holding them above my head once I was trapped between him and the wall.

Klaus tilted his head so confused. “Rae, you’re not making sense right now. Jacob doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes he does, Klaus. He got upset when I told him I wouldn’t take my magic to dark magic to give him and Hayley the chance to have more kids like we do.” My chest heaved up and down and our noses were inches from touching.

The hybrid didn’t move from our current position furthermore he stepped closer if it was humanly possible reaching up with his other hand to wipe away some falling tears. “Rae. He’s your brother, you’re twin, he couldn’t hate you if he tried. Believe I know a simple sibling squabble when I see one.”

“You won’t ever understand.” I shake my head vamping out of his grasp easier than normal since his guard was down.

Klaus yanked his head in the direction I was watching me going for the hunting knife that was on the carpet floor. “Oh no you don’t.” He vamped onto my back pinning me down the second my fingers brushed the handle.

“Ah Nik! Get off me.” I screamed with his body on top of mine. I elbowed him in the stomach giving me the chance to roll onto my back and hug the blade to my chest.

My husband held himself by the palms of his hands on either side of my head. “Love, I don’t know what has gotten inside that head of yours. But I certainly don’t care for it at the moment.”

“You don’t need to understand. Just know that once my magic is gone for good everything has to be better.” I declare meeting his baby blues.

His eyes changed briefly to the familiar yellow and I heard a low growl from the back of his throat. “One minute you’re telling me you’re magic is who you are so that’s why you are waiting until you’re comfortable again and now because your brother wants to knock up his wife some more you must completely destroy a huge part of who you are. Raelyn, that’s bloody ridiculous - ooohh!”

“You can’t stop me, Nik.” I moved my closest knee up into his crotch and he moaned in pain giving me the chance I finally needed. Grabbing the knife in both hands I began chanting the destruction spell for the second time. “Phasmatos triut nas ex veras, maquis dumnas rotenem-“

The bedroom door that Klaus had shut behind him got flung open a second time. I could hear heavy breathing and the person’s heart beating rapidly meaning they definitely were human. A hand grabbed the doorframe and I saw Lizzie Saltzman struggling to catch her breath against it. “Oh my god what I wouldn’t give for vampire speed.”

“Son of a bitch. Elizabeth, what are you doing here?” I snapped pausing the spell for a third time, annoyed by my siphon niece's presence.

She put her freehand over her heart. “Touchy Auntie Raelyn. I…uh sorry can’t breathe.”

“Lizzie, I’m kind of in the middle of something. So can you please get on with what you need to tell us.” I was growing impatient hearing my husband’s moans of pain dying down meaning he would be going for the knife in the next available position.

She finally had caught her breath standing more upright in the doorway. “Sorry to spoil whatever you were doing. I think Andres is dating gross Connor or one of the other Townies at the high school.” She scrunched her nose when the words came out of her mouth.

“No she’s not. Andrea, can’t possibly be old enough to date yet.” Klaus shot in a sitting upright position glaring at the witch.

Lizzie made a scoffing sound at him. “She’s practically a teenager, Uncle Klaus.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Hell, I didn't let Hope or Melissa date until now.” Klaus shrugged his shoulders not liking the thought of it.

The Saltzman blonde quipped back. “What about Alina then?”

“Her situation was completely different than my other kids and you know it.” He raised his tone at her waving a finger at her warningly.

Tightening my grip on the hunting knife handle I began chanting. “Enough both of you! Phasmatos triut nas ex veras..”

“Elizabeth, stop her.” Klaus instructed her quickly before I could finish the spell.

Lizzie snapped her fingers previously siphoning some magic from the walls of the mansion allowing her to draw the blade from my hands and turn it invisible before our eyes. “Invisque.”

“Niklaus Mikaelson!” Whipping my head to my husband I wanted to ring his neck so badly, showing him my fangs and vampire eyes.

Lizzie shifted her gaze between the two of us moving her finger around in a circle gesturing to our current state of still laying on the floor with torn clothing and messy hair. “Am I missing something else or did I just interrupt you two having sex?” I facepalmed myself sometimes wishing she wasn’t so much like Caroline at times.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

4 notes · View notes

artinclined-jointheartside · 1 year

Note

Can I have Terra Headcanons pwease 🥺🥺🥺

SO! With no direction to go, I'm just gonna toss out all sorts of sheeat! Disclaimer, though should be obvious – most of this pertains to my story After the End. However, a lot of it I've just accepted as personal fancanon because I can't see it any other way. As such, I'm stuck with it! And now so are you~ I hope you enjoy!

Terra Snapdragon~

The long-standing, and believe it or not quite loved and adored, Head Witch of the Plant Coven.

A lot of people have a bone to pick with her. Some hate her for something she may have done or said, some may dislike her because she has her own way of doing things, but no one can deny she does get shit done and has an energy about her that never fails to catch attention.

That energy has been present since the very beginning. Spunky even from her childhood, she was always excited to do things and happy to learn. Mostly about Plant Magic, but believe it or not, that isn't where she had her start.

In an ironic parallel to another plant witch we know, she actually had her start in Abomination magic. She wasn't bad at it, exemplary in some cases, but her real passion was plants. Alas, that wasn't The Plan and she had to sequester that passion, only practicing it when the rare opportunity to sneak away from her studies (and home) presented itself. Life was hard, harder than her bright smile let on, but she found her ways to have fun and make it bearable.

A series of unfortunate events befell her however, and while her passion never died, her life became … harder. More and more she had to hide her true desires and bury what she really wanted, as The Plan became more and more restrictive. We all know what it feels like to be caged by life occasionally, and well, she certainly felt it.

Fake smiles and poised poses hid sleepless nights and anxiety ridden days as things got worse and worse for her, and not just in regard to her endless studies, oppressive obligations, and harsh "punishments" for her failures. Finally, after a particularly grievous setback to The Plan for her life, and a punishment taken too far even by comparison to prior instances– she snapped.

Even to this day, if one were to look into the records, they would make it quite clear that no one really knows who or what wrecked the home on the outskirts of town, leaving the youngest member of the family alive, but in bad sorts. Visiting the devastated estate when released from the healing ward, she seemed to those observing to be in shocked disbelief. And she was, to an extent. But it was rather disturbing to say the least when the young woman of twenty suddenly sliced her hair off with an old dagger pulled from the debris and started laughing like a lunatic. She collected one other item and proceeded to walk away, telling them to do what they wanted with the ruined home, it was nothing to her now, and disappeared into the forest.

When she reappeared days later, it was far from where she'd grown up and the people who'd failed her, and with very little evidence of her old life.

Not even her old name.

And right up to a Plant Coven tent she waltzed.

Now, they didn't know this strange young woman who seemed oh-so-eager to join. Which was odd, because usually they see an aspiring plant witch at intervals through their life, even if said intervals are irregular. But this twenty-year-old who looked like she'd just come from a fight with a tree was something else. Luckily, the older adult in the tent was a laid-back guy and decided to see what she was about – despite the others' fears of her being dangerous. See, the Plant Coven was surreptitiously on good terms with witches of all trades and kinds – wild witches, included. However, only eight years prior there'd been an incident with a wild witch that was especially heinous, and they were more feared and hated than ever as a result. The Plant Coven, while accepting of many creeds, were still wary of danger. And with most young witches having some sort of interaction with the people of the craft they wanted to follow, it was odd that no one had ever seen this woman at least once over the last two decades. So, was she wild? And looking a wreck and sporting a wicked smile, was she safe to be around?

These fears aside, his seniority won out and Terra got to camp with the Plant Coven. Soon enough, that wicked smile turned excited again and her eagerness to learn and help won over those more questioning of her motives. Besides, Hildevard, the Head Witch at that time, seemed to like the spunky stranger, and if Hildevard liked her, she had to be alright. Though, more than one person was curious as to why, when finally receiving the Plant Coven sigil, the woman seemed relieved of all things.

Nevertheless, the strange and curious Terra Snapdragon was now an official member of the Plant Coven.

And she took to Coven Life quite well. "Back in the day" as they say, the Plant Coven didn't have any permanent locations or structures. Instead, their "official" locations were mere tent encampments dotted about the Isles. And their motto, which is still the Plant Coven motto to this day, was "Do what you will." Which basically means "Live and let live." So long as no one gets hurt and everyone involved is of age and accepting, well, do what you will!

And an awful lot of that included dancing~

Terra knew dancing. But she knew the waltzes and ballroom dances and poised and proper with structure and control. Not wild and unrestrained with passion in every step and fire at your feet.

And, you may have heard, in the Plant Coven, everyone dances. You'd think the Bards would have them beat, but living free among the forests and the valleys, with warm fires lighting the night and all sorts of tasty things filling the veins with all sorts of rushes, you gotta do something with that energy~ She took to dancing just as ardently as plant magic itself, and was soon outdancing even the most enthusiastic of partners. And she still does, even to this day. Don't challenge her unless you're ready because even at 75 years young, she'll have you under the table in no time!

And of course, as time ticked by, she grew in may different ways, not the least of which being her dedication to the coven and propensity for the craft. As such, no one really thought it odd in any way when, after a few weeks away from the encampment that she never quite went into detail about, she came back with a plant. A flower, specifically. A well sized one. Very pretty color. On her head, though?

At twenty-seven, she'd accomplished a lot for herself and a great deal for the coven, but this flower, for some odd reason she never really would say, seemed to fill her with a great deal of satisfaction and pride. And while she would eventually admit that the plant ending up her head was, in fact, an accident of sorts, she rather liked it where it was so she had no plans to remove it.

It did have an unforeseen side-effect, of course. Over time, her hair gained a more leaf-like quality, whole sections of it standing separate and almost stiff. What she came to understand, and hardly minded, was that the flower was, in a manner of speaking, nesting. Attached to her scalp by fine, vein-like filaments, it was stimulating her hair growth and altering the consistency, allowing for a buildup of soft material to bed itself against. Over time, whole sections of hair came to be attached more to the plant than to her. However, it was hardly a concern to her and still isn't. After all, she'd gained two new appendages in return for the honor of nesting atop her head, and they've come in quite handy many times, so it was a fair enough exchange in the end.

That said, if the happy accident that landed the flower on her head had never happened, she'd hardly have the patience for such a huge quantity of hair. Short of shaving it all off, the less the better would have been her preference.

That said, the flower did end up on her head after all, but what if she were to take it off? Because she actually can. Even after all these decades, she could remove it at any time. If she just so happened to get tired of it being there one day, what would happen to that iconic hair of hers?

Well, she'd lose most of it. Whole sheets would fall away, detaching from her and the flower. However, the bulk of her real hair is still attached to her and healthy as can be! Albeit, sapped of color due to the flower's influence, and losing more as a result of removal. And while she'd had naturally straight hair before acquiring the flower, the impact of it's presence is never-ending it seems, as she'd be left with rolling waves and curls in it's absence. Now, how long the long hair lasts for someone who's never had to upkeep curls is a question worth betting on.

Appearances aside, Terra has always been passionate, both about her craft and the people in it. See, found family really does have meaning on the Isles, and the Plant Coven became her family. They accepted her, crazy and all; they trusted her intuition, despite questioning change; appreciated her dedication, as single-minded and intense as it could be at times; and supported her whole-heartedly when Hildevard announced she'd be the new Head Witch – and sooner, rather than later.

Reality was, there wasn't anyone who fit the role better.

Since the time she'd arrived at the young age of twenty, to the time of the announcement when she was only twenty-nine, she'd gone from offering helpful suggestions that were just what was needed, to straight up making whole-coven impacting decisions that only bettered life for everyone in it. From building the first large-scale greenhouse, to organizing the way everyone grew their plants amongst each other, to standardizing how any product produced was inventoried and sold, to keeping actual track of coven funds and using them to further build up the coven's structures, she eventually grew the Plant Coven's encampments from simple tent villages on unclaimed land to actual physical locations on properly coven-claimed land – allowing for all the legal rights and protections such a validated claim afforded.

How she'd had the starting funds for such endeavors and where she got any knowledge of the legal system, no one asked.

Especially not with the beloved old Hildevard, mysterious and sagely as she was, supporting the young woman at every turn.

So, she was inducted as Head Witch, done so just after turning thirty, the youngest age allowed per the legal stipulations for Coven Heads. And still so far the only witch in history to actually be inducted at that age. While some might consider becoming Head Witch to be the height of accomplishment, to Terra, it was just another happenstance, one that simply allowed her to better work on improving her coven.

As far as she was concerned, she still had a lot of work to do, and it wasn't going to do itself, now was it?

What she built, she preserved. What she grew, she maintained. And what she gained, she protected.

But more on that in another post~ Stay tuned for part two!

31 notes · View notes

constitutionalweasleymonarchy · 2 years

Text

MOLLY: Tuesday

From the flash fic collection Days That End In Y

prompt: meeting friends or family

Molly Brigid Weasley was born precisely when expected, and Percy was not ready.

He’d read all the books, all but turned the house into a padded cell, and cleared that week’s calendar of meetings with anyone more important than junior level management.

He was prepared. But not ready.

Everyone said it was natural to feel that way. Not that Percy admitted the feeling aloud to anyone but Audrey; it was unsolicited advice meted out with varying levels of patronisation, assuring him that it was normal to have absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Only he knew what he was supposed to do. The execution seemed simple enough — feeding and bathing and safety; these things could be learnt.

Percy was confident in his ability to be a father; what he questioned was his aptitude for being a dad.

Bonds like that didn’t come about just because you put in the time and effort. Percy had spent years making himself useful, watching out for those he had a responsibility to, and trying probably far too hard at times… and the people meant to love him had never actually liked him.

Whatever deficiency it was in him that separated him from everyone else, it wasn’t likely to get any better with children. Percy didn’t understand children at all, and trying to talk to one was usually an exercise in madness.

It wasn’t for lack of wanting. In fact, the more he watched Bill with Victoire, the sure-footed fondness and pride he showed her — or the ease and amusement with which George handled Freddie — and the way their children so clearly adored them and instinctively sought them — the more he hoped for exactly that.

Audrey insisted he would have it. It would be different, she said, when it was his own child; he’d know her implicitly as she grew under his care, and he would be Daddy, irreplaceable by anyone else.

The problem was, Percy himself was a prime example of how this could go horribly wrong.

It didn’t matter, for the purpose of this analysis, whether it was Percy or Arthur who’d been wrong back then: The fact was that Percy had spent a not-insignificant part of his life hating his father.

Whilst he would always have lingering opinions and disagreements as to how his dad had gone about certain things — the vestiges of resentment and frustration and confusion still imprinted upon him, the way a wand remembers magic performed a decade ago — Percy had finally come to accept that, whatever their differences on the subject, Arthur had done what he’d sincerely thought was best; that he’d tried in his own way and had cared for Percy in whatever way he knew how to do.

And this realisation did not help at all, because it meant that whilst Arthur had good intentions as a parent and Percy had tried to be a perfect son, they still became strangers.

But here was the world telling Percy that this was meant to be the greatest love of his life.

Percy had never felt like the greatest love of anyone’s life, romantic or otherwise, at least not until Audrey. He wasn’t even certain what that was meant to look like.

It only took him about ten seconds holding Molly to understand.

The first five seconds were pure shock that this was actually happening. The next five seconds were sheer panic. And then he was overwhelmed by the fiercest sense of devotion he’d ever felt in his life. This should only have intensified the anxiety, but Percy was suddenly very, very sure — because failing her was simply not an option.

He’d heard some say that holding a baby was awkward, nerve-wracking, like they might break at any moment. But Percy knew intrinsically that — though Molly was tiny and perfect and breakable — she was safe with him.

“You’re so… miniature,” he marvelled, caressing her ears, nose, fingers. He let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Who gave you the right to be this small?”

It was inane talk, but Molly didn’t mind — and she didn’t mind when he babbled on quietly about things that didn’t even matter, because there was simply so much he wanted to say to her.

“You know,” he said in a low voice, like a secret between them, “I hope you’ll go easy on me. Uncle George has been taking bets on whether Ron or I will crack first.” Hermione had been due right around the same time as Audrey.

“He’s giving even odds to me and five-to-one for Ron. Obviously I put twenty Galleons on Ron. So, you know, if you cooperate, this might pay for your first broom.”

Molly yawned, and he placed a kiss atop her head.

Whether or not she decided to cooperate, Percy was finally ready.

#30 days of percy fluff #percy weasley #molly weasley ii #family man percy weasley #hp fanfic #percy x audrey #percy weasley fanfiction #audrey weasley #ronsgirlfriday #days that end in y

24 notes · View notes

heinrich-18 · 9 months

Text

Tag Faust:Hurt Lost of The youngest

Tag whas away as the tragedy happened he whas just whit Friends away as he came back wo he finally finde he’s dear brother whit crying and death face

Tag whas shocked too be true Nacht never cry he is too proud for this

Tag going too him as he looks at him „Nacht Jo what happened did someone die ore why are you crying“lazy smile

Nacht hold up he’s and stare at him“……T-Tag

Tag looks at him oh shit someone did actually die wo could it be it’s can be just Yami ore Morgan ore Ida this are the only one wo could die

„It’s ok Nacht I’m here little bro going too help you“say Tag whit a soft face

„M-Morgan…. I -I can‘t I’m sorry I tucked him I -I tucked him from your all I -I……..

Tag stare at him did he did say this No Morgan not Morgan and how the fuc€ could he’s big Brother……..

Tag just looks at him a tear come down he’s face“how did he? Whas at least fast?

Nacht Stare at him „I whas so stupid if I didn’t summon him It would never happen………..

Tag is irritated summon what? „What did you summon Nacht I’m here Nacht……

——-

Nacht tell’s him how he did summon devil‘s and Lucigus and the shit

——-

Nacht holy shit are you ok is Ida ok?!

Nacht Stare at him“ I-Ida is missing I couldn’t find her even whit my magic…………I don’t know……..

„It’s ok I will fined her whit you and then can we talk oh shit I can ask my network and we can ask yami it’s going be fine Nacht I -I can help………..

Nacht Stare just at he’s little brother wo look’s at the first time not lazy Ore bored…….More scared……“I yes But go away from My Tag go whit Ida away from my……I‘m not worth it too be helped….

Tag loos disbelief at Nacht „oh hell No Nacht don’t come whit this at least stand for Your sins bevor you kill you self if I look away don’t you dare

Nacht just look’s away from him then…….

—————-

After the burial did. Tag not finde Nacht Tag hope Nacht did Nothing harmful he even ask yami wo just say Nacht will be come back whit time

Did Nacht just run away From him?! What is whit Ida and the other?! Don’t he care……. Did he kill himself what the hell happened

Tag don’t want’s not too know he hate it so he make he’s Organisation Mafia too know stuff and get Money Nacht is not dared too run away……..and Ida….He’s lovely gremlin sister is away Nacht is right she can’t be found…….What can he do…….they and Nacht going too pay for running away all he wants is he’s Family back

Na at least he will get information and help the magic knights more yami’s William and dorethy and julius of curse……………

#Tag Faust #nacht faust #mention of #Morgan Faust #ida Faust #julius novachrono #dorethy #william vangeance #yami sukehiro #black clover au #black clover #black clover oc #oc

2 notes · View notes

namea123 · 10 months

Text

Unpopular Tenchi Muyo Opinion

I HATE the outcome of Tenchi Muyo. No, hate is too light a word, I abhor what they've done to it with every fibre of my being. I had been obsessed with the show for years as someone who grew up on Toonami. It was one of my all time favourite shows and it is something I rewatched time and again (Tenchi Muyo, the movies, Tenchi Universe, Tench in Tokyo etc).

One of the key elements that kept me coming back was the queen herself, Ryoko Hakubi. Space Pirate to some demon to others, Ryoko was widely regarded as a fan favourite. She had a spunky personality, her playful antagonism with Ayeka was fantastic and amusing. More than that though, her love for Tenchi was my favourite thing about the show. She genuinely loves him, and would do anything for his happiness. In Tenchi Forever, when he was whisked away by the main villain, her voice was the thing that woke him out of his spell.

She and he arguably have the most romantic coded relationship out of all the girls. Ayeka being the second to actually express her love for him. What I loved about Tenchi was that he valued the girls as family. Outside of Ryoko and Ayeka all the other girls didn't treat him as husband to be material. Sasami was like his little sister and they had a cute sibling type bond. Washuu was his mentor, and yes could be flirty with him for the sake of making him uncomfortable and pissing her daughter off but it was never portrayed to be a genuine serious romantic interest. Ryo-Ohki was a literal cabbit (cat rabbit) for majority of the series and other than one appearance as an "adult" she was shown as a child like Sasami when in human form. Mihoshi was like a loveable crybaby big sister. She had a short instance of crushing over Tenchi when she just joined the Frey but it disappeared relatively quickly. The roles and dynamic for the cast was fantastic. It wasn't a stereotypical harem, Tenchi didn't care about romancing the ladies under his roof. They were his family and with the exception of the aforementioned Ryoko and Ayeka, they loved him back in a normal familial way.

That is until the writers decided to go charging into stereotypical harem territory.

**Spoilers Ahead**

I won't waste your time, Tenchi ultimately marries ALL of the ladies. I was in disbelief. Ryoko and Ayeka were ultimately who I saw marrying Tenchi if he did have a polygamous marriage (it made sense so I had expected it). WHY did he have to be paired with all of them?!? Him wedding Sasami who magically grew up in the span of 12 years despite never aging for centuries. She still also calls him Tenchi Niichan (🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️). Him marrying and impregnating Ryo-Ohki is one of the most ridiculous and quite frankly awful developments to have come out of this continuation. She's a freaking spaceship that can't speak and literally meows!!!!!!!!

Not only that Ryoko who always loved and adored Tenchi is now docile and content with sharing him when she couldn't stand seeing another woman with him. We were teased with images such as this of their wedding and Ryoko as one of the possible Empress Consorts of Jurai with their daughter.

They gave them the most romantic moments only for them to get a sloppy canon. What good is canon if it's a steaming turd?? What's worse is that Kajashima (the creator) is the one who made it into a giant pile of shit.

I do not recognize this show, I do not recognize my fave characters and I sure as hell don't recognise this terrible whack plot. I guess there's a reason why I only found out about this show two years after it aired. Hell I didn't even know season 4 had come out 🥴If ever a show should do a redo, I'd fully support it being this show.

#tenchi muyo #ryoko hakubi #Look how they massacred my faves #Absolutely awful storytelling and piss poor conclusion

2 notes · View notes

summercreolefanfictioner · 2 years

Text

the crown and the throne (DiaLovers fanfic // Game of Thrones AU)

the bastard who sought the throne || reiji, cordelia, kanato

If someone were to ask Reiji about his life, he would tell people it's a dark comedy—dry humor to anyone who watches him with a keen eye as they shake their heads in disbelief and utter the words:

"A bastard could only dream."

Chaos is a ladder, a wise man once said.

Many have dared to challenge Karlheinz over the throne, claiming that the House of Sakamaki, despite the bounty of riches they bring to the land of Westeros, is nothing but a family full of scum. All they do is wipe out civilians of their homes, kill the innocents, and tarnish every reputable home that goes against their ruling.

He also challenged his position on the throne.

Prince Reiji of the House Sakamaki. The Poison Maker. The Genius. The Second Son.

Reiji wanted to strangle everyone who called him "The Second Son." He dreamt of making them drink his poison and meet their demise. These fools not knowing who he truly is. As much as he is a bastard like his idiotic lazy elder brother, he was still a prince, and he can still seize that throne.

That's why he did what he had to. He created solutions. He showed progress. He presented innovative ideas that could bring the House Sakamaki to the top. However, his mother, Lady Beatrix—the fine lady he calls mother dearly—doesn't see the light in him the way he sees it. But, nonetheless, he didn't hate her like how the triplets loathed Cordelia. He wanted her to have a taste of her own medicine.

I will reject you the same way you reject me.

And so, he orchestrated her murder—even paid a highly-skilled assassin to kill her in a gruesome way. But her final hour was filled with a smile of relief, claiming how she was glad Reiji put an end to her suffering as the mother of Karlheinz's first children.

Reiji wasn't happy about it—brooding even at the fact that Beatrix assumed it was an act of love. And now she was gone, he hated the fact that he's still stuck as the second son who aids his father and the throne is still beyond reach.

One time, Cordelia approached him like the she-devil she is, sashaying her way in his laboratory as she gives out empty praises for his work. And she was getting close, a little too close than he would prefer. Well, what do you expect? Karlheinz has married a woman who indulges herself in shameless acts with other men and even coerced one of her sons to commit trysts with her.

"You know, Reiji, you'd be a great king."

"A bastard can never be a king."

She scoffed in amusement. "Is that a lie you want to tell me when you've done nothing but get your way up the ladder?"

Reiji didn't bother to explain, minding his own business as he takes note of his latest experiment and what he could do to improve it. Cordelia was having none of his behavior, so she settled for getting straight to the point.

"Ayato... he has no chance of succeeding Karlheinz," she said, her tone hinting slight bitterness at the fact that her sole heir defied her command.

"So I heard."

"Karlheinz sees Kanato as the one next in line," she continued, then added, "but that boy has always been weird. He snaps in a flash of a moment, then he cries in his doll room and screams."

Reiji wanted to scoff. Well, Kanato has been "cursed" by magic, killing people at the age of eight. What do they expect him to be? A sane person?

"How about Laito?" he suggested. "He's the smartest out of the three."

No one would deny that. Laito is a cunning individual. He may not be on par with swordfights like Ayato or a wizard like Kanato, but he chooses his battles very well.

Cordelia only smirked. "That boy would serve a different purpose."

Reiji sighed, having none of her scandalous hints. "Your grace, as you can see, I still have my experiments to tend to. May I ask your purpose of visit?"

Now, they're talking.

"You're aware of how I despise my dear husband, right?"

Reiji nodded, holding a calm facade, but deep inside, he was surprised. All this time, he thought this woman would beg on her knees for their father's undivided attention.

"Here's the deal: you help me kill my husband and I'll help you ascend from your current position," she offered, and when he seemed skeptical, she added, "If you're thinking about Richter, don't worry about him. I'll handle him well."

"And how do you help me with that? Besides, if you kill your husband, and your children cannot sit on the throne, that means you'll have to bear another offspring. As if a woman can sit on the throne."

Cordelia laughed at his silly joke. "Who told you that?"

But it got Reiji thinking. It wasn't like he wanted to kill Karlheinz. Everything he did was in favor of him. However, if he conspired with Cordelia and her evil schemes, there's a high chance of him ascending a higher position in the royal hierarchy.

He narrowed his red eyes at her. This conniving bitch.

And so the plan was set into motion. He spent hours on making the perfect poison, the one that would instantly kill Karlheinz without him suspecting anything. While he was piling books at the library, Kanato entered, hugging Teddy to his chest and picking up one book from his pile.

He read the title aloud, "Manipulating Death: A Deadly List of Bottles."

Reiji was sure his younger brother knew nothing of his deal with Cordelia, so he brushed off his gesture as mere curiosity. "Do you need that?" he asked.

Kanato shook his head, plopping onto the nearby couch as he observed Reiji, who was feeling uneasy with his stares.

"Do you need something from me, Kanato?"

Kanato nodded. "You don't believe in magic, right?"

"And?"

Kanato was only silent, but he had a calculating gaze on him, and it irked the shit out of Reiji. Although Kanato was nothing but a brat, he can be unpredictable.

"I know what you're going to do," he stated.

"What do you mean?"

"As if a woman can sit on the throne. Those were your words."

There was a moment of silence. So Kanato knew. He either heard their conversation from his mother or sent someone to eavesdrop on them. Whatever it was, he knew.

"I won't interfere," Kanato assured. "I just want to send you, and on behalf of Ayato and Laito, our regards."

Reiji raised a confused brow at him. "Are you perhaps leaving this place the same way Laito did to search for Lady Yui and Ayato?"

Kanato shook his head in negation. "This will be the last time I am seeing you, Reiji. I thought a goodbye should be in order."

Reiji was still on his spot, refusing to meet Kanato in the eye. He never believed Kanato's premonitions, dismissing it to be a child's nightmare as he was always about scientific proof. But everyone knew that once Kanato speaks of someone's death, it will truly happen. It was inevitable, they always say.

He swallowed nervously. On the other hand, Kanato didn't care about what Reiji was feeling at the moment. He just thought his older brother should know the truth.

"Be grateful that I am here to see you off," Kanato claimed, then turned to Teddy. "Come now, Teddy. We'll play with the new dolls today."

And just like that, Kanato left the library with an astonished Reiji, who was slowly fearing the number of his last days.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

NEXT CHAPTER

STORY MASTERLIST

#cordelia sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #sakamaki triplets #sakamaki brothers #diahell #dialovers #diabolik lovers #rejet #shuu sakamaki #shu sakamaki #reiji sakamaki headcanons #diaboys #diabolik lovers fanfic #game of thrones au #reiji fanfic

33 notes · View notes

mercerislandbooks · 2 years

Text

Book Notes: Maggie Stiefvater

I don’t remember what impelled me to initially pick up The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater. I know it was before I was working at Island Books. I know it was before I was reading a lot of YA. I know I felt vaguely embarrassed about it, that it wasn’t the sort of thing I “should” be reading, before my “read what you like” revelation.

What I do remember was being utterly, surprisingly, captivated. The Raven Boys begins like a fairy tale, if a fairy tale was set in Henrietta, Virginia, and centered on Blue Sargent, the ungifted daughter of the local clairvoyant, who has reached her 16th year under the regrettable prediction that if she kisses her true love, he’ll die. This is not the only stuff of fairy tales afoot — at the nearby boys-only Aglionby Acadamy, Gansey, Ronan, Adam and Noah are searching for the final resting place of a medieval Welsh king. When their path inadvertently collides with Blue (or is it fate?) the plot begins to thicken. A mysterious magical forest, dreams that become reality, and an unsolved murder all weaving together in what is only the beginning of a four book cycle.

I’ve mentioned The Raven Cycle before when discussing the joys of rereading. While waiting between books, I would return to the ones that were out; something I’d previously overlooked coming to light, a further joining together of the narrative, the interplay and subtle growth of characters, the perfectly apt word choices. I marveled at the craft of Maggie Stiefvater’s writing, to be so deliberate in the emotional resonance she creates with each scene that every word attunes to a particular atmosphere. I read her standalone novels, The Scorpio Races and All the Crooked Saints (sadly out of print now), and dipped into her backlist. When she continued in the world of The Raven Cycle, with Ronan Lynch as her central character in Call Down the Hawk, I was eager to see where her imagination would take me next. The Dreamer Trilogy is now finally concluding with Greywaren, which came out October 18th. In this series, Stiefvater delves further into the past of the Lynch brothers and the magic system underpinning a world hidden behind our semblance of normality. She made me sympathetic towards characters I previously hated and willing to suspend any and all disbelief, following wherever her words lead me.

For loving her and these books so much, I’ve had a hard time finding an audience for her among our readers. They show up now and then, and we geek out over our shared love of all things Maggie. But we keep a handful of her books in YA so that I have them to hand should that particular person come in. Someone into exquisite writing, contemporary fantasy, found family, a bit on the grim side, with a deep appreciation of art, Celtic music, and muscle cars. For that reader, Maggie Stiefvater is a hidden treasure. If this sounds like you, and you don’t want to commit to a series, give her Printz Award-winning The Scorpio Races a try. It’s also our Knitting Book Club pick for November. As an added bonus, it’s actually set during the month of November, so now is the perfect time to pick it up. Otherwise, if everything I’ve said above intrigues you, start with The Raven Boys, and see if Maggie Stiefvater doesn’t cast her spell over you too. Happy reading!

— Lori

#island books #lori robinson #maggie stiefvater #the raven cycle #dreamer trilogy #scorpio races #booknotes

8 notes · View notes

xalygatorx · 18 days

Text

Powerless (2017) | Chapter 17, "Within You"

Years after Sarah’s wit and bravery saved her brother and brought the Labyrinth to its knees, her daughter Andie is transported to what remains of that same fantastical place, somewhere she thought only existed in her favorite childhood stories. To find her way back home, she must traverse what’s left of the crumbling kingdom, find a way to set both moments and magic in motion again, and even save the Goblin King, himself. But who will save her from him?

Powerless is a SFW slow-burn romance between Jareth and an original female character. The story overall contains descriptions of fantasy violence, mild suggestive content, and grief regarding family illness. Chapter-by-chapter warnings will be provided as well.

Summary: Andie wakes the morning of the ball and thinks back on the past six days leading up to it, no longer sure if going home is what she truly yearns for, despite it being what she knows she must do.

Pairing: Jareth x Fem!OC

Warnings: Suggestive content and dialogue; significant fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

Andie didn't feel quite as she'd thought she ought to when she woke up the day of the ball. She had expected to feel relieved that she would get some answers, maybe irritated by having to attend a party as large as Jareth had led her to believe, but definitely sure of what she would be doing after its end. That had always been wishing to go home; it had even come up after she and Jareth had spoken again the evening that the Labyrinth reassembled.

After getting dressed and passing the day with her colleagues that first day that the Labyrinth was on the mend, none of them had quite known what to do. After being involved with the chaotic disarray of their broken home for so long, Hoggle and the others were almost in disbelief that things were finally fixed. Jareth experienced instances of that as well, though he was more pleased than any of them that everything was seemingly back to the way it should have been and took every opportunity to flex his abilities. However, whether that was to show off or to make sure everything still worked properly.

By the time they all turned in early for the night, Andie had decided that it was more for showing off. She couldn't blame him though, she more than likely would have been trying everything out as well if she had been in his situation. When she'd stepped into the bed chamber she would be staying in, Andie had been jarred from her thoughts by the sight of the room. She'd thought that she had seen it in its full glory earlier while the sun was high in the sky and sending beams of gold down to filter through the crystal adornments, but she'd not thought once about the moon. It all looked like something out of a Cinderella tale.

And yet, past that, she was drawn toward the sky. Andie had crossed the room with wide eyes to the window, slipping the latch free and pushing the panes outward so she could see it fully. It was truly amazing, every indigo and navy swirl of its expanse, housing cascades of starlight from the galaxy beyond, lighter violet clouds gently outlining the more clustered areas. Her eyes moved over the brilliant, shimmering white orbs far off in the universe surrounding this unimaginable place and she felt at peace for the first time since the Labyrinth pieces had reconvened.

Yet as soon as she thought about her lessened anxiety in general, the source returned to her mind and she winced at the memory of Nyle's screams and Jareth's expression after she'd dropped the dagger and he'd thought she'd truly meant to kill him. She still had not quite figured out what she'd seen in his eyes, but it had sliced into her more deeply and painfully than any physical blade could have.

Nibbling her lip, Andie had shaken her head in that quiet moment; so much had happened here. She'd never bargained for any of it. She'd bargained for a boring summer outside taking care of her mother and working at a job she hated and then returning to school for a semester of rigorous fall classes before finally graduating and going full-time with said awful job until she found one to mesh with her degree. None of this should have been possible, but it absolutely was. She was far past thinking any of this was a dream. That notion had come and gone within minutes of her arrival.

Andie pursed her lips and listened to the gentle sounds of nighttime outside, just a rustle of a breeze and the shimmer of moonlight in the fountain down in the gardens below. The crystalline features of the room around her glittered and glowed with the light as well, making the whole of it seem alive. Her stomach made a small sound then, breaking the moment, and she looked toward the small clock at the corner of the room. Midnight, it read. Perfect time for revisiting the kitchen.

When her gaze started to move away from the clock, she noticed that the headboard of her bed had a peculiar pattern upon it she wasn't quite sure she'd seen before. It almost looked like…

Her eyes narrowed faintly, but she played it off as being blinded by one of the reflections from the crystals, stretching as she sauntered over to the bed and sat upon it. She slowly turned to sit crossways and facing the headboard, raising her hand and poking it with purpose.

The pattern disappeared as she'd expected and she suddenly heard a mildly perturbed voice behind her observe, "I am losing my touch, I take it."

"Kind of hard not to notice a rough sketch of a face on a board where it wasn't before," Andie had pointed out, smoothing her hand over the now-plain headboard before turning around. She'd managed to pick just the moment he was sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her, putting their faces in close proximity until she leaned back to look at him. "You were spying on me?" she accused.

He looked minutely offended that either she accused him of peeping or that she'd leaned away from his sudden closeness, but he chose only to address the former. "I was…not," he finished lamely.

"You've got to be able to do better than that," Andie informed him, though she nearly laughed at his grumpy expression.

"Oh, hush, I was seeing if you were all right," Jareth groused. "And considering playing a trick on you if you were…"

"Ah, there's the Goblin King I know." Andie sobered a little. "Why were you seeing if I was okay?"

He arched one perfect brow at her. "You think me entirely insensitive?"

She smirked a little despite her efforts to hide it. "Not even close. But I thought that I was maybe a bit better at looking composed."

"Not even close," he tossed back at her playfully, resting his chin against his fist as he looked at her. "What is bothering you? Or should I say what has been bothering you?"

Andie frowned mildly just before her stomach growled again, causing her to laugh embarrassedly. "Can we have this talk over a snack?"

"I can call one of the servants to fetch you something," he offered.

She smirked. "I have legs, I can walk down there, myself."

"It's just as well, I'm afraid," Jareth admitted. "The goblins have not returned just yet."

"Couldn't you just magic them back?" she wondered.

He pondered that. "Perhaps, though it will be a madhouse once they come. And it is such a peaceful night," he observed with a brief glance toward the open window. "Though, that does remind me… What did you want to eat?"

She thought about that. "Ice cream?"

Jareth chuckled and the sound was like music to her ears. "What flavor?"

Andie realized what he was getting at and grinned slowly. "Mint chocolate chip."

The Goblin King—fearsome and limitless as he could be—conjured precisely what she requested in a bone china bowl, handing it to her after the light show of magic was complete. She noticed then that despite his more relaxed state of dress—his jacket gone and a pair of ornate black house slippers replacing his heavy boots—he still had his gloves on. "Now, are you settled?" he wondered, looking at her as she observed his hands and entirely missed the unintentionally affectionate look in his eyes.

"Almost," she said as she settled in and tasted the treat. It was better than any ice cream she'd ever had. Of course it is…, she thought with a small smirk as she savored it, blushing when she caught Jareth staring at her lips. Before he could draw too much amusement from her reddened face—which he was already noticing—she asked, "I was wondering, why do you look so different from the other goblins?"

He arched a brow. "Because every goblin you've seen began as a human."

"You weren't human?" she asked in surprise.

"Do I look like I was human?" he chuckled.

"None of the goblins look like they were human. In fact, you're the most human-looking of all of them," Andie pointed out. He allowed that, reclining to lie on his side across the bed, his head propped against his arm as he continued to regard her. "So, what were you? And why didn't you correct me when I asked you if you remembered being human?"

"You asked me if I remembered being selected for my post," he corrected her calmly.

"Well, you said you were a goblin. I remember you saying that for certain,"she countered solidly.

He smiled at her persistence. "Because I am. In part."

"What's the other part?"

"So many questions," he chided her. At her sour look, he smirked and, at last, relented. "I was born of the Fae, dear girl. Raised by the Goblin King before me and then given the throne when I was of age and he fell ill."

She nodded a little. "That makes sense."

"I am glad it meets your approval," he drawled in order to provoke her a bit. "Now will you at last answer my question?"

Andie rolled her eyes and winced as she got brain freeze before replying, "Everything just happened so quickly. I just can't get that last standoff when I was trying to fix the clock and you were fighting Nyle out of my head."

"You are bothered by his demise?" he asked a bit incredulously.

She worried her lower lip faintly. "More how it happened than that it happened," she rephrased.

"Why?" Jareth asked, his expression turning a bit cold. "He deserved what I gave him."

"It doesn't change that it was somewhat horrific," Andie reasoned quietly. "I'm not blaming you, if that's what you think. In fact, I also feel sorely about the fact that you truly believed I was going to kill you."

That earned a look of surprise. "Oh?"

"Yes," Andie murmured uncomfortably. "How could you think that of me?"

"I have already told you, your fears were genuine. And not unfounded."

"Even so, I—"

"There is no need to explain yourself, my dear. I hold no grudge," Jareth told her as he sat up. "In fact, you have my gratitude as much as ever. For reasons I have already divulged to you."

"You said there was more that I did. More I did not know of," Andie pressed, those words having danced around her head for some time since they'd been spoken. "Will you tell me what it was?"

"You pry," he accused her gently as he slowly sat up from the bed. "There is much I shall tell you, but—again—not yet." Jareth smiled crookedly. "Instead, I shall thank you again before I take my leave and remind you that your end of our bargain still stands."

Her brow creased as she set her spoon back into the empty bowl. "My end?"

"Yes, your end," he'd murmured playfully, snapping his fingers and causing her dishes to disappear into a faint shimmer of light. "Nothing comes free, not even for me. At least not when I have made a deal which entails that it shall not be free. I owe you a favor. One you may use as you see fit." He offered that information willingly enough, but she could tell that, on some level, the vulnerability made him wary.

With that being said, he rose and with a graceful flourish of a bow, he’d whispered, "Goodnight."

The problem was that Andie was not sure what she wanted anymore.

As she delicately stretched and made no move to rise from the bed, the past few days continued to flow through her mind and she couldn't help but smile. She had been dead set on going home, but now? Now this place was starting to feel curiously like a home. What a dangerous notion.

She'd explored just about every explorable inch of it the first two full days she was there, though she'd opted not to go down into the underground passages or anything equally ambiguous in safety. It was only on that first day that she stumbled across what looked like a storage room on the top floor, filled to the brink with all manners of stuff. Anything from furnishings to clothes to antiques to battle arms to what appeared to be an actual Regency carriage, there were too many objects for her to properly identify in the amount of time she was there. Andie had carefully stepped into the vast chamber and walked along the path that ran through it all, trying to get a look at everything as her curiosity burned bright. She was vaguely reminded of the Junk Lady's affinity for clutter, but this place was different. This wasn't a junkyard, this was a collection.

As she passed the carriage, her attention held to what appeared to be a diagram for palm-reading propped against four huge, heavy-looking tomes stacked atop one another, she paused, her eyes catching on a crystal ball in a small velvet box nearby. She knelt down and looked it over, gently picking the box up off the floor and tilting it a bit to see if it really was just as it seemed, unlike literally everything else she'd encountered in this world. Just as she was ready to touch it, an arrogant voice had said, "I would not do that if I were you."

Andie had sworn softly as she nearly dropped the box and its contents, turning to look for the smug Goblin King wherever he may be. It was only when her gaze dipped upward to the driver's seat of the carriage that she saw him, and he was most certainly smug. "Do you want me to break your things? Is that your goal with attempting to scare me every chance you get?"

"Touchy, my dear," he chuckled. "I really got you, didn't I?"

"Make sure I don't have glass in my hand next time, maybe," Andie grumbled. "What is this?"

Jareth looked at the box and smirked faintly, though it held an edge of sadness. "Well, turned just that way, it grants particular powers. However, if you turn it just to the right, it will show you your dreams."

"Where did you find such a thing?" she'd asked as she observed the crystal ball. "And why is it collecting dust up here if it's so special?"

"It is of my own creation," Jareth replied, watching her closely from his perch. "And it was originally meant for Sarah."

"Ah," Andie had murmured awkwardly, not having the intention of opening old wounds. She carefully set the box back down and left it be. "Sorry."

"What for?" he wondered, the riding crop present in his hand again as he observed his station in the coach.

"Well, it's obviously up here for a reason," Andie noted as she approached the coach. "Scoot over."

"Oh, no, my lady, you mustn't sit with the driver!" he told her with a false scandalized tone.

"I'll sit where I damn well please!" she insisted, holding back laughter.

"No such luck, in the carriage with you or I shall use this," he continued to tease her, gesturing at her with the crop. "Or would you—"

"I would not, I am a lady, after all," she bantered back and he laughed, watching her climb into the open-top carriage. She settled into the bench seat behind him and turned to the side so she could see him. "Where are we heading?"

"Undiscovered territory," he said with an implicative smirk before turning his head to regard her. She noticed again how unearthly his beauty was. Exquisitely handsome, indeed… What a disaster, Andie thought to herself, as she was already drawn to him for his wit and mind. Not to mention these exchanges of playful banter were so addictive. "It is up here because I had no use for it. And neither did she."

"Could you have gotten some of your power back with it after time stopped?"

He shook his head. "All of it stopped. Even it was useless in that time."

Andie nodded a bit. "So, you offered her that? In exchange for…"

"What do you think?" he countered and they both fell a bit silent in knowing that Andie knew as much of the story as she needed to in order to figure that out.

It still embarrassed him some how he'd pleaded with Sarah. He heard himself in his memory—"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave…"—and felt positively ridiculous. What a selfish situation that had been. And yet, those thousands and thousands of years ago, he had meant it.

Everything had changed after she'd rejected him, however, in more than just this physical world. He had changed. And then he'd changed again after meeting her. Jareth glanced toward Andie and couldn't help but inquire further, "What caused your mother to fall ill?"

Andie frowned softly. "A dopamine deficiency." His brow arched and she took the hint. "It's a chemical in the brain. When there's not enough of it and it's not made in the amounts it should be for a person to function, bad things take place in the body. In her case, it was something called Parkinson's disease."

"Parkinson's disease," Jareth murmured, trying out the term on his tongue. "I have heard of that some time before."

"With your being alive for thousands of years and back and forth between here and my world, I'm not at all surprised."

"Will it kill her? I know you said she was not dying, yet…"

"It's not a terminal illness, but it is disabling, which can shorten a person's life, yes… So, in a way, it is a possibility." Andie ran a hand through her hair and sighed, seeming and feeling distant with the thought of her mother in such a state.

It was the sensation of Jareth taking her hand that brought her back to reality and she looked at him, looked at the unhidden sympathy in his eyes. "I am truly sorry."

Andie nodded a little and smiled sadly. "So am I." Jareth looked at her a moment more before leaning in and kissing her forehead, then helping her off the carriage and leaving the storeroom with her to seek brighter scenery.

When the girl who had revived time and magic in the land of the Labyrinth thought of her uninhabited apartment back in her world, which held only the necessities and no one to share them with, a certain moroseness seeped into her heart. Ever the loner, she'd never felt a need to hold anyone's company but her own. She indulged at times, of course, and she loved her family, but she had never had trouble with being alone. She was starting to wonder if that would hold true once she returned.

"Dear child, you are horrific at riddles," Leona had teased her with a rumbling laugh as she lay within the archway that was her post in the gardens. She'd returned to it the day after the Labyrinth's resurrection and had seemed quite pleased to be back at her job. Andie had made a point of visiting her on the fourth day of her stay to see the sphinx in her natural state, though what she had ended up involving herself in was a game of riddles. One she was certainly not winning.

"I've never been faced with a sphinx's prowess at it before. I thought I was good at them until now. Give me another, I'll get the next one," Andie had persisted, readying herself for a new puzzle.

Leona smirked good-naturedly. "This is the last, child. If you do not solve this one, I daresay you are a lost cause and I shall win." The sphinx's tail flicked pleasantly as the breeze brought the floral scents of the garden their way, another beautiful day in what had proved to be a lineup of beautiful days after the storm that had ripped through the broken land.

"All right, go," the human woman had requested, lying on her stomach in the grass, her legs bent behind her and crossed comfortably at the ankles.

Leona had squared her stone shoulders before beginning her last riddle and Andie's last shot at redemption after missing two consecutive riddles. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. Through raven skies and stone torn asunder, I have been your light. Within the heart of the storm and the strength of the stars, it may please you to know you shan't look very far. I have always been within your sight. What am I?"

Andie blinked and thought over the riddle, let the nuances of it and the pleasant roll of Leona's voice wash over her as she began to consider the meaning. The beginning was simple, it referenced the Labyrinth and its toils. The raven skies were dark of night and the stone torn asunder was likely the pieces of the maze in its shattered state. I have been your light…, Andie repeated in her head. What was the rest?

"Would you mind repeating it? Without making fun of me, maybe?" Andie requested, causing Leona to laugh.

"No promises," the sphinx had said playfully. She cleared her throat. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered. Through raven skies and stone torn asunder, I have been your light…" As Andie listened, her gaze slipped past Leona toward movement up on the castle wall. It was the balcony; Jareth stood there, in all his kingly, elegant manner, and looked out over his kingdom as she'd often caught him doing. She could not imagine the reassurance he felt from seeing it together and whole again. To feel whole again with his magic restored. "Within the heart of the storm and the strength of the stars…"

Andie felt a strange sense of realization as she watched Jareth and listened to Leona's riddle, her eyes widening faintly as she continued to observe the Goblin King survey the land, his gloved hands braced against the edge of the stone balcony. "It may please you that you shan't look very far…"

She hadn't had to. He'd been there from close enough to the beginning that she felt as if he'd been there all along. I have been your light.

"I have always been within your sight. What am I?" Leona finished at last, watching Andie curiously.

Andie finally tore her gaze away from the balcony, floundering a bit for words. "Um…," she mumbled before shaking her head, much too frazzled and embarrassed at her own thoughts to think coherently. "I think you win with that one, Leona." Was she actually hinting at her feelings for Jareth? Was it that obvious? She couldn't admit to that even if that was what the sphinx was getting at, it was too awkward.

"Truly? My dear, you must be dense. It was your dagger, of course," Leona chortled, purring with delight at her victory.

"That makes perfect sense, how could I have left that out," Andie groaned, shaking her head as she stood up. "I'll have to brush up on my riddle-solving skills before I come see you again. My pride is slaughtered."

Leona smirked. "See that you do. I enjoyed this."

Andie had smiled back. "So did I. See you soon!" With that, Andie hurried away.

Leona had watched her go and glanced back toward Jareth in the balcony, the smirk on her lips impossible to contain any longer now that Andie had fled. "Poor girl."

Andie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, bringing the satin covers up toward her chin and bundling into the warmth. No, she was sadly quite sure there would be no going back for her sorry heart. Whether or not she physically returned to her world, however, was a much different matter, as she would not be returning necessarily for her own benefit. Her family needed her. And yet, so did her family here. Meanwhile, she needed them both and that simply could not be.

On the sixth day, toward the evening, and the day before the ball was planned, the goblins—who had taken their sweet time in their king's opinion—finally arrived back in the castle. Andie was watching Sir Didymus and Ludo playfully joust in the throne room when the cavalry arrived, filtering in through the door as well as they could in their numbers, many piling on top of one another to get inside. She was sitting on Jareth's throne and was removed from the mess as a result, but Ludo, Didymus, and Hoggle were all knocked around by the hideous creatures. Ambrosius sat near her feet, glad to be out of the way, she imagined.

When the commotion became an all-out brawl amongst everyone—there was even friendly fire between the goblins—Jareth arrived on the scene, demanding silence in the hall. Everyone froze, the goblins dropping their weapons before groveling before their king, apologizing for their lateness and their noise.

Jareth looked down his nose at them and ordered, "As you were." The goblins scurried back. "Your truancy has proved quite a nuisance… And you've that much more to do in the short time before tomorrow night. A ball is to be had and the preparations are many. Well? Get on with it!"

The goblins hurried to their duties, just a few remaining as they stared at Andie in the seat of power. Jareth started to shout at them but followed their gaze and cocked a golden brow, which he was quite prone to doing in her general direction.

Andie blinked at the attention she suddenly had. "What?"

Jareth smirked faintly. "Nothing, Your Highness."

"I just wanted someplace to sit," Andie reasoned as she sat up straight. "If you want your chair back—"

"No matter, you may stay. It rather suits you," he chuckled. His gaze turned sharp when he turned it upon the goblins. "What are you lot standing around for?"

"His Majesty has a queen?" one of the pudgier goblins wondered in awe. Andie blushed a deep red and Jareth looked taken aback. "She is most pretty, sire!"

"Yes, well…" He had cleared his throat. "She is not my queen. She is an honored guest."

"But she sits upon the throne!" another goblin protested, not believing that she was just a guest.

Jareth smirked toward Andie as he said, "She sits wherever she damn well pleases." Andie grinned and, though he would never admit it, the sight managed to mesmerize him. When the goblins continued to putt around, he said again, "Do you not have somewhere to be?"

"We are kitchen staff, sire," one objected quietly. "There be no sense in making the meals an entire day before… Unless you have other demands of us?"

Jareth paused and glanced around, noting that the whole of the castle in its reborn state was in fairly good condition. It was just a matter of decor for the ballroom and all that. The food would need to be fresh and he supposed it would have to wait in that case.

Andie was looking around the room, which was only a bit more heavily furnished now with a few rugs and some extra spaces for decor. "Maybe a game?"

Everyone in attendance had perked up at the word. "What sort of game, ma'am?" one of the goblins asked eagerly, the others already stirring with interest.

Andie grinned in anticipation and picked her feet up off the floor before instructing, "Everyone off the bare floor. Rugs are fine, anything is fine really, just not directly on the stone." Everyone—even Jareth after some prodding from his servants—stepped off the stone and awaited further instructions. She smirked as she said, "The bare stone is now lava. If you step in it, you're out. Go."

"What sort of game is—watch it!" Jareth began to berate her, only to be nearly wiped out by Ludo changing location. Andie laughed mirthfully from the throne, not budging one bit and watching the priceless sight before her. Teams formed relatively quickly, Jareth and his goblins trying to get the advantage over Ludo, Didymus, and Hoggle, even as Didymus cried out for Ambrosius to aid him. The sheepdog stayed exactly where he was, playing deaf much to his master's disdain.

Ludo—with his large feet and top-heavy stature—was soon eliminated, though he was not remotely disheartened by the occurrence, and one of the goblins was soon as well. Instead of exiting the game like a fair player, the eliminated goblin hopped on its colleague's shoulders and forced the both of them to topple onto the stone, the both of them making sizzling noises and wailing in faux agony. Jareth and the one remaining goblin shared a rug and watched as Hoggle lost his footing and rolled off a pedestal toward the entryway, causing Didymus to wail at his loss. The goblin saw fit to challenge Didymus and the two began a strange sort of brawl on one of the larger rugs, the entire scenario much resembling a very absurd wrestling match.

In watching the brawl so closely, Andie didn't see Jareth's progress across the room until he had landed upon a small table very near the throne, eying her like a jungle cat. "Don't you dare," she warned him with a giggle before he smiled and leapt from the end table, knocking it over before he landed lithely on the back of the throne, stepping down to sit behind her, his legs on either side of her body. "I think I may have started something serious," she realized as the two pint-sized creatures rolled around on the rug. It was as impressive as it was ridiculous.

"I daresay you might have as well," Jareth observed, though he was looking at her as he said it. She realized this from the direction of his voice and looked toward him, their faces inches apart.

Jareth had just begun to lean in to close the distance when Didymus cried out with victory nearby. "Have I won the challenge, my lady?" he asked hopefully after seeing that Jareth's boot was touching the stone.

Andie saw this as well, flustered and a bit miffed at the interruption, though she should have been glad for it. "You win, Sir Didymus, congratulations."

As he cheered and celebrated with Hoggle and Ludo, though really he'd not won a thing but bragging rights, Andie felt Jareth's lips skim against the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver. "I believe I am the true victor of this game," he noted near her ear, chuckling as she remembered to breathe at last.

Six days. Six days and she'd been around him so often and yet something always halted their progress. Interruptions, somber conversations, doubts, whatever seemed appropriate for the moment. She thought this over through dinner and then afterward as well, when she was moving up the stairs to her room. "Are you quite well?" She turned in the stairwell to see Jareth leaning against the wall just behind her, though he'd not been there just seconds ago. "You hardly touched your meal."

"You keep pretty close tabs on me, Goblin King," she observed as she continued to climb, finally entering the hall. "And I have to wonder why."

"It surprises me that you still wonder," he noted as he followed her up, walking with her down the corridor like a proper gentleman. Though she had heard once that a gentleman was naught but a patient wolf and she thought he might just fit into that metaphor.

"I don't like to assume," she told him, stopping long before they reached her bedchamber. "And I've not exactly been given the answers I was promised."

Jareth nodded, his expression unreadable again. "In time. Sooner than you think, I am sure." She nodded a little, her head still full of half-decisions. "Does it bother you?"

"Not as much as it should, I think," Andie admitted. "Not as much as some things."

"I can give you a partial answer if that will help."

"It might madden me further," she'd laughed softly. "But it’s worth a try."

Jareth smiled slowly. "I very much enjoy your company, my dear. And I endeavor to keep it as close as I am able for as long as I am able." He paused, attempting to read her. "Does that unnerve you?"

"No," Andie said truthfully, watching him and how the moonlight coming through the window made his hair shimmer silver, his one crystal blue eye lit with ethereal brilliance.

Her answer surprised him, she could tell. He slowly stepped closer to her. "Then how does it make you feel?"

Andie looked for a word until she realized she would find none to describe exactly what she was feeling. Instead, she looked up at him and stepped forward, and seeing his eyes widen faintly in shock encouraged her further. She rose up to kiss him softly and that was how it began, gently at first, until suddenly their individually passionate hungers surfaced.

Her arms wound around his neck and held her body against his, one of his hands possessively moving to cradle the back of her neck while the other splayed over her lower back, every firm angle of his body melding with hers. In her enthusiasm, she'd unintentionally backed him up against the wall, relishing in the control for only a short moment. A faint sound that bridged the gap between a moan and a growl had issued from Jareth's throat as he kissed her deeply and claimingly before he'd scooped her up with clear intent and made his way back down the hall to his own chambers. She was lost with him now and could not remember ever being handled quite so gently and demandingly at once in the instant that he swiftly shut the door behind them.

Andie had nearly dozed off again when she felt familiar strong arms tighten anew around her waist, the Goblin King gently nuzzling her neck as he began to wake as well. "Good morning, my dear," he murmured softly against her skin.

"Good morning," she smirked, turning over to cuddle against his side, shifting so her head rested against his chest. He held her close, as if she were something very cherished, and lightly ran his fingers through her hair, looking down at her reverently.

At last, he sighed softly, regarding the sunlight pouring through the window. "I am afraid we have a ball to prepare for," he murmured, though he showed no indication of wanting to get up, particularly when she mumbled a protest and held him more tightly to emphasize her dislike of that notion. "Come along, there is much to do and, not to offend, but I have a feeling you do not know how to dance."

"That would be accurate," Andie sighed as she looked up at him, her hair a gently tousled mess that did risky things to his heart. "However, I don't need to know how to dance as I don't believe I will be dancing."

"It's a ball, love, of course you will be dancing," Jareth informed her.

"Just torture me some more, will you," Andie whined quietly. "Public humiliation is a whole new level."

Jareth chuckled. "I will teach you and you will look as if you've danced for years." He rolled her to lie on top of him so he could look at her more easily, kissing her forehead and then each cheek, ending on the tip of her nose. "You will be just fine. On my honor. Besides that, I cannot imagine you will have experienced a ball quite like this one in your world."

Andie smirked in defeat. "There is a lot here that I've not once come across in my world," she admitted, watching him and the thoughts roving through his eyes. This was the moment that she leaned in to kiss him and they lost themselves in each other, both forgetting about the future for the time being and ultimately making themselves quite late for the day's preparations in spite of Jareth's attempt at being a responsible monarch.

As they worked their way down the staircase to join the others, Andie held Jareth's hand, their fingers intertwined as they spoke of what would be involved in the evening's ball, and she found herself wishing silently more than once that this—that they—did not have to end.

Next chapter: Chapter 18, "New Dreams & Foolish Hearts"

#labyrinth #labyrinth fanfiction #labyrinth fanfic #jareth x oc #jareth the goblin king #jareth #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #the labyrinth #romance fanfiction

2 notes · View notes