#still like how hilda & trigger came out

[little-lemon-lattes]

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”  

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

  “-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head.   “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

#zelda spellman #zelda spellman x reader #caos #Sabrina #lgbt #fanfic #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #miranda otto #caos imagine #wlw #caos fanfiction #your pov

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Theorizing about Frida’s character arc in season 2

Okay, the making of this post was triggered by me overthinking that promo picture. My mind had a lot of Thoughts and I figured I might share some of them with you. Let’s go in stages

1- The Marra, magic, and incomplete character arc

In the first season, we see Frida’s development, the one she was due to since her introduction (and I say this as a fan of her character, not a hater) centered around her joining and being used by the Marra, followed by the realization that she’d screwed up. However, it’s very common for us fans to think that her redemption was done in a rushed way, something which I actually talk more about here. That being said, the writing in Hilda is something I appreciate a lot, and I find it hard to believe that the subject of Frida’s redemption, especially after she went through such a rocky road to get it, will be dropped in season two.

Now, we know very little about the Marra, but judging by what we do know, I’m willing to bet there’s a lot of magic involved in the whole nightmare spirit thing. Add that to the traumatizing business that fighting a ghost was, I don’t think Frida is very fond of magic, at this point. In fact, I think she’ll do her best to stay away from it, but not because (or at least not only because) she is scared, but because she feels like she needs to prove a point. She needs to prove it to herself, and most importantly, to her friends, that she is no longer the person who would go every length to be in control, and letting go of magic, a powerful tool in controlling the world around you, is a powerful symbol of her dedication to that. I do think she had some interest in magic even before the Marra situation (mostly because of the crystal ball in her room), but even if she didn’t, this still sort of makes sense in my head.

So, according to this theory of mine, her not using magic in a time of need would be a part of her grownth, right? If that was the case, seeing her resist the Marra again would be a good way to show how she’s changed. However, we have no signs that the Marra will even be there in season two, which kind of leaves me thinking... what if her grownth will be shown by her *using* magic? If she didn’t want to, either because she is scared or because of her trying to let go of this need to be in control, using magic to save her friends would count as development and allow for a pretty emotional episode, wouldn’t it? Well, aside from Frida’s redemption arc, there was another arc that did not get completed in season 1...

2- The Tide Mice and the promo picture

After the events of The Tide Mice, we see the mice at least twice more (that I noticed, in Hilda’s room and in the cemetery), so it’s clear to me that this case hasn’t been closed. With all the magic theme that seems to wait for us on season 2, it sounds very logical that some focus will be given to the tide mice. What does that have to do with Frida? I may be imagining things, but come with me still

Take a look at this cut from the promo picture. I already talked a little about this, but at first the object that Frida is holding looked like a wand to me, but the more I tried to figure out what it was, the more it seemed to be, in fact, a flute.

Aannnd here is the part in which I begin speaking about 100% theories, no canon backing me up whatsoever. So, we know that the Tide Mice problem has to be dealt with, and we have Frida holding a flute here. This combination reminded me of one specific thing: the Pied Piper tale.

For people who are unfamiliar with it, there’s this guy with a magical flute who uses it to rid a town of its rat infestation by “hypnotizing” them with his music and making them all drown. The tale takes a much darker turn after this, but that’s the part that matters for this theory.

(Also, I want you to remember that Luke Pearson said it himself that he takes a lot of inspiration from legends and folk tales. Granted, the Pied Piper is a German tale and not a Scandinavic one, but eh who knows)

Let’s imagine that, somehow and somewhy, the mice become a problem again. Maybe they’re back with Johanna and David, or maybe they found objects belonging to someone else and morphed into lucky charms for those people. The Hilda trio finds out and does the reasonable thing, which is going to the sketchy, mysterious library lady for help. Now, I don’t know if she’d simply give it to them, if she’d help them find it, or if she’d want them to stay out of this particular mess only for them to get it themselves, but eventually they’d come across the information on this magical flute that *gasps* controls the mice! (Maybe it’s in the footnote of the asterisk of the footnote of the asterisk idk that book is confusing)

Speaking of the book in which the enchantment was, look at this little screenshot which I shamelessly stole from the wiki, and most importantly, at the picture in the bottom right corner. We can see a lute player and a few more people in Middle Ages European garnments (date I stretch it and say they look a lot like German Middle Ages clothes...?). Because of the little shadow of a tide mouse in his lute, the most logical conclusion is that he’s using a mouse to become better/luckier at his job. However, this image is right in the part that talks about how to break the enchantment. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it is telling us the way to defeat the tide mice once and for all is through an instrument, but I do think it could be a clue.

So a series of events happen and they get the flute. Cool! Now they can get rid of the mice once and for all! Considering that the tide mice came from, you guessed it, a tide pool, this would tie in really nicely with the detail that the pied piper made the rats drown. Maybe the mice would come back to their pool and stay there because of the music.

But then why would Frida be the one holding the flute in the promo? If that’s anything like what will happen, wouldn’t it make more sense for Hilda to want to help? Welp let’s go to another round of purely theory nonsense

3- Final theory and conclusion

Considering that we don’t know what the mice will be acting like, it’s anyone’s guess what will happen when they become a problem again. But since it fits in this theory and in canon both, I’ll be considering that Hilda is, once more, suffering the effects of the powerful magic she cast. Not only that, but also David and Johanna would be facing similar issues, and there’s only one more human in her close circle.

You already understood where I’m going at this point, BUT we’re also going to imagine another path to get to the same place. Something I really want more of in season 2 because we barely had it before is more information on how magic works in the Hilda verse. Alas, since we don’t, I’m going be using my instinct here: doesn’t it make sense that a person that has at some point been affected by a spell would not be able to break it? Like, if this sort of magic has touched you, it is immune to you? Likewise, if a witch has tried at some point to break a spell and not managed, wouldn’t it be reasonable to think that this spell would have grown a resistance to their magic? I like this theory because it allows my conclusion to make sense even if Johanna and David aren’t the ones being affected by the tide mice this time, and it still has Frida being the one to save the day because she’s the only one in Hilda’s close circle that hasn’t been touched in any way by the tide mice’s magic.

I’ve probably already talked for too long, but here’s what I’m trying to say: an arc in which Frida sacrifices something to save her friends from the Tide Mice would tie in the two lose strings season 1 has left us. And if it was established that she was refraining from getting involved in magic for her friends, and the sacrificed this resolution by using magic to help them, that would deepen her characterization and satisfyingly redempt her.

That’s what I had for today, hope you enjoyed it!

#watch me get every single aspect of this wrong fjnfjfjfj #this is such a dumpster fire of a theory but it was so fun #i just love brainstorming ok? #this has a lot more pictures than necessary but it makes the post more ~dynamic~ and I didnt want you to get bored fjfjnfjf #hilda the series #frida hilda #hilda season 2 #hilda theory

[ofdragonsdeep]

29: Debonair

Count Artoirel de Fortemps attends a ball for the Members of Parliament.

(ArtoirelxHilda? Sort of?)

The sound of the orchestra echoing out in the high-roofed walls of the Vault promised the trappings of high society to those within. Count Artoirel de Fortemps was no stranger to such functions, wending his way through the crowd with practised ease, but the surroundings sought to subvert the expectation of any passing noble, or indeed anyone who remained familiar with Ishgard, reimagined in the image that her saviours had planned for her.

Commonfolk in their best dress rubbed shoulders with nobility here, a formal gathering held for each and every member of the Republic’s new council. Artoirel had endeavoured to learn the names of each and every person sent as speakers for the House of Commons after the parliament’s formation, but even his memory was taxed to recall the names of their spouses and friends and other miscellaneous plus-one’s. In the same breath, the House of Lords was far expanded from the days of decisions made solely by the church and the four High Houses, though his upbringing had at least given him a head-start on remembering those names.

A buffet had been provided that had likely cost more than many of the commonfolk earned in a year, and champagne was being passed around among the merrymakers. It was not, Artoirel had noted, the best champagne, but perhaps that was the point. Besides, it made no difference to him, as he had made an art of refusing every canapé pressed beneath his nose, a cautious part of him still remembering the events of Falcon’s Nest, the reports he had heard of attempted sabotage on ceremonial functions, and his own persisting dislike of being intoxicated in public.

“Reckon you’ve turned down enough food to feed an orphanage, your Lordship. There better grub somewhere I should know about?”

Artoirel jumped at the noise, spinning on the spot to find Hilda - captain of the Watch, who were the de facto guard for this function - stood just a little bit too close.

“Sadly not, Lady Hilda. I simply neglected to prepare.” He took a step backwards, just slightly, and straightened the collar on his shirt. “I trust that the evidence of your keen eyes will stay between us?” Hilda laughed at that, folding her arms and regarding him with an appraising look. He appeared to come up short.

“Lady Hilda. Don’t get that one much,” she said. “How’s about this then? I won’t mention your disdain for Ser Aymeric’s fancy sausage creations, but you have to dance with me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Artoirel said, taken aback. Hilda winked at him, the smile fitting easily on her face.

“All that book learnin’ and here we are. You. Me. One dance.” She held up a single finger. “That’s the thing where you lead your partner round in circles, in case that was what was holdin’ you up.” Artoirel made an empty noise, then collected himself, clearing his throat as if it would save him face.

“Yes, I am aware of what a dance is, Captain,” he said, exercising incredible restraint to keep the ice from creeping into his voice. “I am simply at a loss as to why.” The single finger was pressed against her lips, inviting him to take part in her secrecy, as if he had any choice when he was not aware of the secret.

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder, your Lordship,” she replied. The gesture became a two-finger salute, and she turned on her heels and disappeared back into the crowd. Artoirel could only hope that she had retreated to actually do her job.

—

Though the guests were unusual, the itinerary was not. Entreés were followed by a time to mingle and exchange the latest gossip, and Artoirel’s feet took him around the room with all the emotion of one of Stephanivien’s strange robotic creations. Though he had despaired of his little brother in the past, he could not deny that Emmanellain’s head was far more suited for such endeavours than his, but he was a master at polite conversation nonetheless. The atmosphere was far more cordial than any such event would have been before the end of the war - there was less power to squabble over, more people who held it, and so less to gain by knowing a few choice and guilty secrets. Artoirel spoke with Aymeric and Lucia, shared their worries on the war which yet fomented at the front at Ghimlyt, all three of them hoping nothing untoward would occur in their absence. He listened to news of the progress on restoring the Firmament from Aurvael, attending with his father the Count. The Dzemaels ignored him, as they always did, but Count Charlemend and his young nephew at least engaged him in pleasantries.

The commonfolk had far more to say, if you knew who to ask. The view of the ongoing reconstruction of which Aurvael was so proud was well-received among the people, despite certain members of the nobility dismissing it as seeking glory from the worthless. Lord Francel had a good heart, and those who he was helping saw it, it seemed.

And the news. There was much of it, and the fine details a little different for each mouth it came from, but Artoirel listened and attempted to filter the nuggets of truth from the sheer volume of it. If only Emmanellain had not been busy with his duties at Dragonhead - though he could not help but be grateful that his brother was applying himself for once, he found himself at quite the disadvantage.

And then, as Artoirel had dreaded, the music changed.

Artoirel was a good dancer. He had been taught from a very early age precisely how one was to dance at a ball, the correct amount of attention to pay one’s partner to not suggest too much but not offend with inattention. The eyes will judge you on every line of your form, his mother had said, and he had taken it to heart, as he had many of her lessons, not all of them in his best interests.

Hilda caught his eye from across the room, and offered him a cheeky little bow. Artoirel let out a long breath, and crossed the room to join her.

“Might I have the pleasure of this dance, Captain?” he asked, holding out his hand precisely as he had been taught. There were whispers immediately, of course, although rather more of them were jealous than he had been anticipating.

“You’re flatterin’ me, your lordship,” she said, playing coy as he had expected her to. “I suppose it would be rude to refuse.” Artoirel mentally went through the motions of gritting his teeth, in order to remain outwardly poised.

Hilda was not dressed to dance the same way the other ladies who had taken the floor were. She had no dress to float with each step, but sturdy trousers and solid leather thighboots that clacked upon the dancefloor with a noise that was, at least, quite satisfying. Her fingers were not smooth, but calloused from holding a gun and holding the line against the ever-rising tide of pushback against their nation’s struggle for equality. Her nails were not painted, but filed down to not catch in the trigger. She carried herself with the confidence and expectations of nobility, the pointed tips of her hyuran ears the damning reminder of why she was not.

She could, however, dance.

“See, your Lordship? This ain’t so bad,” she said, sounding amused by his predicament more than anything else.

“Only one of us will be quashing foolish notions in the aftermath,” he replied, to which Hilda laughed. They separated, turned - Artoirel did not raise his arm as high as he was used to, when dancing with an elezen, and Hilda performed the top spin with remarkable grace. The dexterity that gave her the eagle eye and uncanny trigger finger she was famed for were putting in their work here, though he could not help but wonder who, precisely, had taught her.

“Don’t you think it would be more interestin’ to give them somethin’ more to talk about?” she offered. Artoirel did not stop dead on the strength of reflex alone, but the hells-damned woman had felt the way he stiffened regardless, and it seemed only to egg her on.

“It would be unbecoming,” he managed, and Hilda tutted.

“You need to learn to relax,” she disagreed.

They turned again, Artoirel holding his arm out just so, her gloved hand in his. He could not tell if she was fooling with him and - to his rapidly growing embarrassment - could not tell if he wanted her to be or not.

If his mother had been alive, she would have fainted at the notion of her eldest carrying on some scandalous affair with a commoner, and a half-blood at that. But she had been wrong about Haurchefant - he had loved him as a brother, or tried to, in the gulf between the two of them. There was no need for distinction between high and low-born now, and besides - did her ruby-red eyes not speak of a noble heritage that she had quite rightly cast aside as worthless?

She had asked first, he supposed.

“Perhaps we shall discuss this further when this event has concluded,” he allowed, and Hilda raised an eyebrow. She was surprised, but not displeased, and Artoirel wondered what that said for his character.

“Perhaps we shall, Lord Artoirel,” she said. “Damn, I owe Stephanivien ten gil now.”

Artoirel thought he should not have been surprised.

#huffs angrily at not knowing his mother's name #ffxivwrite2021 #posts at 6am and rockets off to bed without proofreading #Artoirel de Fortemps #Hilda the Mongrel

[cookiem1996]

The Scottish Stranger

AN: Hey everyone! So I guess I have a weakness for the Zowena ship. I’m a simp for these women and they deserve happiness! This fic takes place right after the events of Part 4 of Sabrina and will have some flashbacks. This story is a ‘what if Rowena and Zelda met back at the Academy as teens’ scenario and this will have more chapters! As for where it leaves off for SPN in the present, let’s say this takes place right after Rowena had her second off screen death by Lucifer once again. Also, a trigger warning: there may be some uncomfortable pedophilia (from the high priest of the past) and in the future, some mention of child/sexual abuse. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know if you want more Zowena content!

Chapter One: Macleod

“Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?”- Rumi

Lost.

Zelda Phiona Spellman (Blackwood to some) truly was lost without her seventeen year old niece.

She was also lost without that beautiful cocoa skinned woman: Mambo Marie Lafleur.

The centuries-old witch still could not believe she had been lied to.

‘Baron Samedi? How was this possible?’

Zelda found herself in this hole again, this deep cavernous hole and the walls were closing in on her. She recalled the Eldritch Terror who attacked her mind: the Darkness. Oh, how it knew all her hidden fears.

Once again, Zelda is under attack. She’s lost everything-well almost. She still had her sister to think about and her marriage. She needed to be there for her little sister just as Hilda has been there for Zelda.

Yet, here Zelda sat feeling so alone. She stares up at the dim ceiling in her office as she leaned back in her leather chair. Zelda could not help the waterworks that continued to build up and irritate her eyes.

She wondered if she could summon the loa, hoping she/he would present her with comfort.

Foolish thought. A loa’s job is never done.

Sabrina, she would be forever missed. She was a huge part of the family and it wasn’t the same without her.

Zelda laughed to herself thinking: ‘Perhaps I’ll have less headaches.’

Honestly, those headaches were worth it. Now, it was empty in the mortuary- in the Academy even.

Sabrina always stuck out like a sore thumb at the Academy ever since her first day; it kept things interesting.

That thought brought the centuries-old witch back to the day when there was a frumpy-looking small young girl at the doorstep of the Academy. This was back when Zelda herself attended as a student. Not many could forget that day; this girl stuck out as well, but just like Sabrina, as people got used to the unique witch, she disappeared...

Academy of Unseen Arts-Way Back when

Zelda has to definitely be the most popular witch the Academy has housed-just at sixteen! Sure, there was Constance, Mallory, and Faustus, but Zelda, she reeked elegance; a lot of the students wanted to be her.

Her beautiful waves were this perfect golden red, her eyes a sea blue, and a powerful jaw. Her popularity partially stemmed from her bother Edward Spellman being in the run for Top Boy.

Nonetheless, she was made for power.

Rain poured outside of the Academy, nullifying outdoor activities and kept the students inside for the night. Torrents of raindrops splattered against the windows, illuminated by the flashes of lightning. No one in Greendale was going anywhere during this storm.

Zelda sits by the window not fearing of the trumpets of thunder that seem to almost vibrate against the glass.

Despite what most think popularity entails, Zelda is probably the most studious person one could ever know. Her dreams of becoming a professor in this school (eventually high priestess should the Dark Lord permit it) resonated in her mind as she works.

Not one soul in the Academy was prepared when the large doors received a meek knock.

Zelda tore her attention from her work and arched a light brow. She noticed even the others were surprised.

Professor Brinkley, the current herbology teacher answered the door with a flourish.

There, soaking from pellets of rainwater was a small girl. Her head was covered by a dark hood, although peeking from it were curls of red. Emerald, cat-shaped eyes wandered up to the haggard herbology teacher.

“May I assist you, young lady?” The teacher questioned in a hushed tone.

The girl held on to her cape, shivering.

“P-p-please,” came her soft response in a Scottish brogue, “I am in need of shelter.”

Professor Brinkley raises his brow. He couldn’t help but pity the young girl. She was an outsider, yes, but he could tell she was indeed like them, a witch.

“Come then...”, he implores her. “Step inside and we shall get you warm. Any child of the night deserves warmth and comfort.”

Zelda leans over from her perch to get a better look. Her lips parted in surprise as the smaller girl steps in. The stranger pulls her hood back revealing more of her mass of red locks.

The girl was pale, cheeks lightly dabbed with freckles here and there. Her lips were small, but adorable with how they were shaped into this pout.

Zelda found this girl enchanting. Her studies were tucked in the back of her mind as she watched the Scottish stranger. She barely focused on all the whispers and murmurs around her. Her blue eyes focused on the timid movements the stranger made.

“Where did she come from?”, Constance pipes up. She approaches the girl cocking her head to the side. “Hey, what’s your name?”

With that, everyone else in the main room crowded around the girl, overwhelming her. The girl stepped back slightly, but was practically rooted to her spot. They all hounded her with questions.

Zelda frowned as she slid off her seat. She cleared her throat earning stares from the crowd.

Even as a sixteen year old, she held the air of a refined older woman.

“Enough.”, she starts in a stern tone. “You’re frightening her. Give her space.”

The crowd dispersed then. They watched Zelda carefully as she made her way to the girl. The girl glances up at Zelda in surprise. The way Zelda towered over her didn’t feel in the slightest intimidating.

“I’m sorry about them. As curious as we all are, it is no excuse to make you feel overwhelmed.”, Zelda spoke earnestly to the girl.

Professor Brinkley shut the heavy doors after inspecting what the storm brought outside. The roads were flooded. Any longer and that poor witch would have rowed here on a boat. He realized how Zelda weeded through the crowd like it was nothing.

Before Zelda could say anymore, the teacher places a hand on her shoulder.

“Now, now, Sister Zelda. We should let the girl settle in, shall we? It is clear to us she isn’t a part of this coven, but she must be a child of night brought to us from the Dark Lord. He had brought her into the right place. I’ll show you to the washroom to get cleaned up and into clean clothing. You must be cold.”

Professor Brinkley leads the small girl ahead to the foot of the stairs. Zelda noticed how the girl observes the statue of Baphomet with curiosity and then a twinge of fear. The girl quickly reels her gaze away as she starts to ascend the staircase.

‘If she were truly a child of night,’ Zelda thinks. ‘Why does she cower at the idol of the Dark Lord? Perhaps, she’s been misguided. Professor Brinkley senses she’s a witch. When I looked upon her, she...I could sense a power emanating from her.’

“Hey sister? Sister?”

Zelda’s thoughts are interrupted by her older brother.

“I asked if she said anything to you.” Edward repeated to her. “Are you well?”

Zelda snaps out of her daze as she nods.

“I am.”

Edward inspects his younger sister.

“Well, did she say anything to you?”, he asks.

Zelda shakes her head and gathers her books.

“Whoever she is, there’s something different about her.”

She goes to move forward, but her brother pulls her back gently to stop her.

“In what way?” He questions-more to himself than her.

Zelda shrugs. “I do not know, but I intend to find out.”

Dinner Time

The dining hall is silent save for the cymbals of thunder clashing with the lightning outside. The room is dim with candlelight, but one could see the exchanged glances of curiosity between the students. They were all thinking about the same thing: the girl.

Father Mephisto ate his meal calmly. He knew everyone still wondered about the red-haired teenaged stranger. He broke the silence with his bold voice,

“Where is the girl, Sister Irene?”

Sister Irene, secretary and disciple of the Church of Night, sets her soup spoon down and pats her lips with a napkin.

“She is getting ready. The warm water for her bath took its time. This storm has not helped with the plumbing.”

Father Mephisto scoffs softly as he bores his dark stare toward the bigger-framed woman.

“We do have spells for that, do we not?”, he inquires.

Sister Irene bows her head. “Yes, your Excellency. We didn’t want to frighten the girl.”

“Frighten her?” The high priest’s voice raises.

He laughs boorishly. “She’s a child of night, is she not?”

Father Mephisto turns his gaze over to Professor Brinkley. “Isn’t that right, Brother Brinkley?”

The wiry professor gulps and nods “A lost one.” He replies softly “Her name is not in the book.”

There was a collective sound of silverware dropping on porcelain plates. Zelda’s silverware, however, remained in her clutch. Her eyes widen in shock.

‘I was right. Not a true child of night.’, she thinks.

Father Mephisto, like Zelda, stayed still in his composure.

“She told you her name?”, he asks.

Professor Brinkley nods. His eyes barely meet with his superior.

“She did. I reached out with the other covens astrally about their books. No pages have her name in blood.”

Zelda had hoped this didn’t mean she would be tossed back into the rain. This poor girl seemed lost for sure. She was also eager to know her name. A name to that beautiful face...

“Well, wherever she comes from, she may have been misled. A girl born with powers is indeed a special witch. Of course, we are all born to advance our natural talents by our Dark Lord, but there are some who are granted these greater abilities-ones we do not understand. Nevertheless, if she makes her stay here more permanent, she will need to pledge her loyalty to the Dark Lord. He may grant her more than she ever dreamed of.”, Father Mephisto concludes.

Zelda’s held breath releases into relief. A witch born away from the Path of Night? How was that possible? The witches she’s known all her life possessed smaller abilities, but the true source would always come from the Dark Lord. Those who did not sign lived their lives as a hermit with simple parlor tricks at their behest. This girl has to be special.

Zelda could feel the power brimming in those emerald green eyes-a power unlike anything she’s felt. Her attention then feel to the girl who was just now making her presence known in the dining room.

Zelda’s throat went dry as she observed the stranger. Even cleaned up, she still held this grace-this mystery.

The girl’s red curls were tamed, her face touched with light makeup. The nurses fashioned her into this deep green velvet gown with a laced white collar. This dress brought out her sparkling eyes for sure, Zelda couldn’t even look away. Never has Zelda, in all her youth, been stupefied by a girl. Sure, she’s already had her sexual awakening around the on and off escapades with Faustus Blackwood, but it seemed she was having another sort of awakening. This was her first girl crush.

Father Mephisto stood up and took a look at the stranger. His dark eyes roamed up and down taking in the sixteen year old Scottish girl with carnality.

It disgusted Zelda how he unapologetically would size up the young girls in the Academy. She knew the man craved the flesh of the maiden. His wife, having been aged lost his interest. He is under this spell now-the Scottish girl his new source.

“Welcome.” Father Mephisto greets. “I am Father Mephisto, head of the Academy you stand in and high priest of the Church of Night.”

Father Mephisto sits back down, dark eyes never leaving the stranger. He lifts his hand, crooking his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion.

“Come closer, child. Let’s get a better look at you.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Watchful eyes followed the ginger girl as she slowly approaches the high priest.

Zelda’s lips curl in disgust as the high priest gently touches the girl’s arms, long fingernails dragging along the fabric of her sleeves. Zelda could feel the discomfort from the girl. The girl’s green eyes wandered away and her breathing hitched.

The high priest smirks and tilts his head. He reaches up and turns her cheek.

“There’s no need to fear me.” He chuckles. “Now tell me, what is your name?”

The girl visibly gulps and takes a steady breath.

“Rowena Macleod.”, she answers like the coo of a dove.

‘Rowena. What a beautiful name.’ Zelda ponders dreamily, marveling at the name. She wanted to get to know her more.

“What a pretty name.” Father Mephisto comments.“Scottish. What are you doing here do far from home?”

Rowena’s gaze drops to the ground. It’s as is the question troubles her.

“I had to get away.”, she speaks again. “I want to learn more about my abilities.”

A lost witch for sure. Zelda was more than willing to show her the way.

“Away from your family?” The priest presses on. “Did they shelter your abilities?”

Rowena messed with her fingernails and chewed on her inner lip. Zelda wished Father Mephisto would stop pestering her especially when she appeared uncomfortable.

“They did.”, she replies nonetheless. “Mainly my father. My mum passed when I was six years young.”

Father Mephisto’s expression hardened. “Well, Sister Rowena, if you wish to learn about yourself and your abilities, you are more than welcome to stay. The Dark Lord will shelter any willing witch or warlock. He will open those beautiful green eyes to the true path-the Path of Night.”

Rowena appeared hesitant, which was understandable. Father Mephisto wasn’t exactly the greatest example for a young witch’s mentor.

The Scottish girl eventually concedes “I thank ya for yer hospitality.”

“Of course, my lovely. Now, join us for dinner, please.”

Rowena glances back at the others. They all quickly look back to their plates. Zelda stood up and pulled a chair out unoccupied next to her.

“Here.”, Zelda offers in an assuring voice. “You can sit right here.”

Rowena’s reluctant expression softens as she makes her way right by the offered seat. Zelda stands behind the chair. She waits for her to get settled before pushing it in for her.

“Thank ya.” Rowena says.

Zelda gives her this small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Zelda’ peers look at her in surprise. Since when is she this nice? When has she ever smiled?

She was truly enamored.

After dinner...

Zelda ushers Rowena over to the dorms. There’s silence between them. Zelda cannot find words to say.

Both of the girls would glance at each other every once in a while- a little dance of looks as one would look away quickly lest they be noticed by the other.

“This will be your quarters.” Zelda breaks the silence as they appear by an empty room. “My room is just across the way should you need anything. I room with Agnes. If I’m not there, don’t hesitate to reach out to Agnes should you need anything.”

Rowena steps into the empty room. Zelda leans against the door frame as she watches Rowena smooth the edges of the bed.

“Thank ya. If I’m to be honest...” Rowena turns to face Zelda “This has to be the fanciest room I’ve stayed in.”

Zelda raises both brows. “Is that so?”

Rowena sits on the bed. Her face relaxes from the soft texture.

“I’ve slept on a board covered in straw for most of my life.”, Rowena explains. “Unlike ya, I was never privileged.”

Zelda scoffs at this. She hated that word. Sure, she didn’t grow up poor, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her troubles.

“And how would you know I am privileged?”, Zelda rebuffs.

“The way ya speak, the way ya dress, and all of this. Ya get to stay in this nice place, a place where ya even get to learn more about yer powers. I say that’s pretty lucky.” Rowena replies while laying back on the bed.

“I bet yer family home is perfect as well.”

Zelda’s brows furrowed and her nostrils flare.

“You don’t know a thing about me. How dare you stroll in here and think you have everything pegged. You are lucky Professor Brinkley even let you in. He took a look at you and pitied you.”, Zelda spat.

If anyone knew Zelda, once you set her off, there was no turning back.

It was Rowena’s turn to scoff now. She sits up to glare deep into those precious blue eyes in front of her.

“Perhaps I’ve got somethin’ pegged right. Yer a spoiled brat. I don’t need anyone’s pity. Any kind person would let someone in. Oh wait, this is real life. Ha...maybe yer right. At least I don’t have to live with the fact I get things handed to me.”

Rowena’s temper was evenly matched with Zelda’s. Zelda wanted to hex her right now, insult her further, yet there was something about this fiery redhead that just piqued her interest even more. A challenge wouldn’t hurt, one that would teach her a lesson.

“You’ll regret that, I assure you. I retract the kindness I extended to you.”, Zelda sneered.

Rowena’s eyes lit in what seemed to be a blend of mirth and anger.

“Kindness? More like pity.”,Rowena retorts. “Well, goodnight spoiled brat.”

Zelda stomps one foot and crosses her arms. That earned a serpent-like smirk from the red headed beauty.

“That is Zelda to you.”

Rowena shrugs “Same thing.’’

Zelda grips the doorknob tightly. “Goodnight Rowena.” She grits through her teeth. She then slams the door.

Rowena barely flinches. “Goodnight Zelda.”, she murmurs.

This Scottish girl sighs as she lays back down. She stares up at the ceiling inquisitively. There was something about that Zelda.

Zelda was so gorgeous, filled with a hidden fire. It made Rowena smirk to think she got to this prim and proper girl.

It couldn’t hurt to tease her more.

To be continued...

#zowena #zelda spellman #rowena macleod #spn #caos

[sarahwyland]

74. "You can go kiss my ass." "Okay."

(I still have several prompts - I’ll get to them all!) 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Nick asked. 

“Yes, Nicholas.” 

Nick raised his eyebrow at her short answer and watched as she fumbled with the new kitchen torch she had proudly brought home the day before. He crossed his arms and watched, ready for the inevitable moment in which he would need to intervene. 

Sabrina considered the cake and ice cream she had so carefully sculpted and then topped with meringue. It looked exactly as Aunt Hilda said it should. She took a big breath and raised the torch. 

Nick couldn’t help himself.

“Didn’t Hilda say to bake it instead of torch it?” 

“Nick,” she warned. 

He held up his hands in surrender. 

“Carry on.”

Sabrina repositioned the torch and squeezed the trigger. 

A burst of flame came out. She jumped in surprise, but didn’t let go of the trigger as the flame grew. She tried in control it, to evenly toast the meringue like Hilda had instructed. 

“Sabrina,” Nick warned. “I think you might want to dial it down.” 

“It’s fine, Nick.” 

He pursed his lips. His fingers flexed as he waited to see if he would need to jump in. 

The meringue got browner. 

“Sabrina...” 

“Nick,” she gritted out throw clenched teeth. “Stop talking.” 

All at once, the meringue went up in flames. It quickly spread to the wooden counter it sat on. 

Sabrina squealed and stumbled back, too surprised to even think to let go of the torch’s trigger. It caught the curtains on fire. Nick cursed. He sent a stream of water from both hands, one aimed for what was supposed to be the Baked Alaska, the other at the curtains, then turned both to douse the flame still shooting from the torch in Sabrina’s hand. 

“Nick!” she shrieked as she stood there soaked through. “Dammit! You ruined the dessert!” 

“Ruined the dessert?” he repeated. “Sabrina, you set the kitchen on fire.” 

“I didn’t...” Nick raised a pointed eyebrow. She glowered. “You can go kiss my ass, Nicholas Scratch!” 

“Okay,” Nick shrugged. 

“Okay?” Sabrina repeated. 

“I do like your ass,” Nick said. “Granted, I like Baked Alaska, too, and it doesn’t seem like I’ll be having that tonight.” 

���I hate you,” Sabrina informed him. She stormed off, leaving him to clean up the kitchen. He chuckled and used magic to clear away the ruined dessert and repair the burned counter and curtains. Once he was satisfied, he went in search of Sabrina. He found her on the back porch of the small cottage they shared just down the way from the mortuary. He could see the big house peeking out of the setting fog in the distance.

“I know you hate me, but do you still love me?” he asked as he came up behind her. She didn’t protest as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.

“You know I do, you idiot.” 

“You know I think it’s hot when you’re mad at me for being right about something,”  he countered. He nipped her ear. She tried and failed to elbow him. “Hot doesn’t cover what I think when you’re feisty.” 

“If you think sex is going to get you out of this...” 

Nick sighed and turned her to face him. He trapped her between himself and the railing. 

“Babe, you know you’re not actually mad at me.” 

Well into a century together, he had learned to read her mind, her moods. When she pouted he knew he was right. 

“I wanted everything to be perfect,” she said. “It’s our first family meal since we all came back to Greendale. It’s the first time we get to host one, no Hilda doing all the cooking or Zelda pouring the drinks. Me and you, welcoming our family into our home. I wanted it to be perfect.” 

Nick kissed her forehead. 

“You have made a delicious lasagna,” he reminded her. She had gotten a lot better at cooking over the years, which was lucky for him because he’d had to eat her earliest attempts at replicating Hilda’s recipes. “There’s garlic bread to go in the oven and I did a damned good job chopping vegetables for the salad.” That made Sabrina’s lips quirk into a smile. “So maybe the Baked Alaska didn’t turn out all that well, but do you honestly think Hilda Spellman is going to show up empty handed? It’s okay to yield her the dessert course. You can perfect the Baked Alaska for next time.” 

Sabrina sighed and turned her puppy dog eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for being so snippy.” 

“No worries.” He leaned in to peck her lips. “You can make it up to me later by letting me kiss your ass.” That made Sabrina giggle. “Or whatever other part of you I can get.” 

“It’s a deal,” she agreed. She kissed him again, this one long and promising, before she pulled away. “They’ll be here soon. I suppose I should go warm up the oven for the bread.” 

Nick followed her into the house, then hung back as she walked into the kitchen. He watched as she stopped in her tracks and gasped. 

“How...” 

There, on the newly repaired counter, sat a perfect Baked Alaska.  

“I’m no baker,” Nick said as he once again encircled her from behind. “But I’m one heaven of a conjurer.” He hadn’t understood her insistence on making such a complicated dessert in the first place when baking as a whole wasn’t her strong suit, let alone doing so the mortal way, but he hadn’t questioned it. “I knew what that Baked Alaska meant to you.” 

Sabrina turned and kissed him soundly. 

Fifteen minutes later, the aunts walked in on quite the show.

[starsandauras]

Prompt #17: Destruct

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt 17: Destruct

I have no idea how guns work, I don’t like them. It’s artistic liberties.

Hilda was gorgeous. Long, dark hair, large crimson eyes, fantastic cheekbones. Rough and tumble and so graceful.

And Brigid could only stare at her, pink in the face. The poor dear was always confident and outgoing when it came to her male lovers, but oh when it came to the women… when it came to the women she was shy and almost demure. And it was in full force as she looked at Hilda.

First she had just given birth to Cred when they met, and was in no shape to pursue anyone. And then Thancred had returned, which threw her entire world into disarray. But then, the Grand Melee came about, and there were moments Brigid was too distracted watching Hilda to do her own fighting.

In the end, Hilda would have to take the role of the pursuer, and Brigid the pursued.

And Hilda soon rose to the challenge, arriving on the House Fortemps doorstep and seeking Brigid for an afternoon. Wrapped up warmly, Brigid easily followed after her, glancing at the bag she carried.

“‘Tis that you’re havin’?” she asked quietly, eyes wide over the scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face.

“Just a surprise for you,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But best not to tell that older brother of yours, eh?”

Brigid wasn’t certain what to say to that, so she only nodded quietly, continuing to follow Hilda until they reached the target range the machinists maintained. As Brigid glanced around Hilda sat down the bag and collected what was inside it.

The redhead blinked in surprise as the other woman draped an aetherotransformer across her chest, securing it at her waist. She continued to blink as Hilda pressed a gun into her hands, a lightweight thing, mythril barrel and oak grip easy for her to hold. “O-oh,” she breathed out, looking over her shoulder at Hilda standing behind her. “Nay wonder you were sayin’ nay to be tellin’ Llew.”

Llewellyn *did not* like that Sammy had taken up Machinist, too afraid of everything blowing up in his beloved’s face to be comfortable. That his baby sister was standing here with a gun in her hand… oh he would be upset and worried.

Hilda hummed softly, smiling gently up at Brigid. “Our little secret,” she teased, turning Brigid to face one of the targets. “Plant your feet. The recoil on this one isn’t too strong, but it’s there.”

Brigid’s face went as red as her hair as Hilda tucked up behind her, Brigid’s back flush against Hilda’s chest, Hilda’s arms coming around her to help her hold the gun level. She tried not to go completely ramrod straight and still, especially since it would mean locking her legs, and she very much did not want to swoon in Hilda’s arms.

She also tried very hard not to bring her hands up jerkily, and mostly succeeded, though from the fond laugh behind her, not completely. “When you’re havin’ more experience you can shoot it one handed,” Hilda explained, “but for now let’s use both.”

“Aye,” Brigid replied, voice quiet. Between the two of them Brigid was soon aiming at the nearest target, a stuffed burlap sack with concentric rings painted on. “So I’m just shootin’, aye?”

Hilda let go of Brigid’s hands long enough to turn the aetherotransformer on, and the machine was much quieter than Brigid had expected, even after being around both Hilda and Sammy’s equipment. She was very proud her hands didn’t shake as Hilda’s clasped them again. “Aye,” she said, a smirk in her voice. “Stand firm now, and squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it. I’ll hold you up through the recoil.”

The recoil couldn’t be that bad, Brigid thought as she did as told.

Next thing she knew they were on the ground, but the target was missing a sizable chunk.

They both laid there in surprise for a moment, before a half choked laugh started bubbling up from Hilda, relaxing Brigid enough for her own to join in. She rolled over onto her side, hardly noticing the snow melting into her clothes, eyes shut from the force of her laughter. A few moments later her laughter abated, and she blinked her eyes open to lock with Hilda’s.

Her own laughter had faded, but it was still shining bright in those crimson eyes of hers. “A pretty thing you are,” she murmured softly, smiling again as the color rose to Brigid’s cheeks.

“You’re bein’ pretty too,” Brigid whispered, trying to hide her face in the waves of her hair. Hilda’s smile grew into a grin, darting in to press a quick, chaste kiss to Brigid’s cheek before standing and pulling the other woman up.

“Alright pretty thing, up you get. I might not make a machinist out of you, but it’s good for a woman to know how to shoot ‘round here.”

Brigid laughed, startled out of her shyness and soon regained her feet. “Hopefully with less of us endin’ up on the ground,” she teased.

Hilda waited until she had her arms around Brigid again, holding the other woman’s arms steady and keeping her upright, before saying “I quite like you on the ground.”

Brigid’s second shot went wide, but they both stayed on their feet.

#FFXIVWrite 2021 #FFXIVWrite #Warrior of Light: Brigid O'Donnell #Hilda Ware #Finally getting some forward movement on this one too #once I realized the dynamics it's actually working out #Pairing: Why Not Play

[yuusa]

-ˋˏ𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭 ˎˊ-

         -ˋˏ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒕 ˎˊ-

                 ✧ ��𝒐𝒅 𝑬𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝟑 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

·  ·  ·  · ✦ 𝑺/𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝑯𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝑷𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕'𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒚𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒎.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑯𝒖𝒈𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒋𝒐𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆.

You fumbled around the large boxes within the room, searching for the lost bracelet that you thought you placed in the girl’s cabin. You nervously bit your lips in frustration as you tried to sort through all of the nearly ripped clothing that was patched up with tape, most of which were clothes Hugo bought for you as a gift when the time came. However, the bracelet was a special case that was irreplaceable to you.

It had been given to you when you were much younger, perhaps around the age of twelve when Hugo went on a mission and found scraps around the area. He had been scrounging through different broken ruins to find pieces he could use to make a bond or “promise” bracelet as he referred to it as, something to reward you with when he got back from his mission. 

He was able to find enough materials to make two black bracelets that were long enough to wrap around your wrist multiple times, they were identical in appearance but had small noticeable differences. For one, Hugo’s was a bit scratched up due to his habit of wearing it wherever he went, while yours was more intact as you left it behind at the caravan before a mission. 

“Here, I made this for you to say thanks for always being by my side,” Hugo said, asking for you to extend your arm out, “it took me a couple of weeks to find the right materials but I finally did it.”

You extended your wrist towards him, allowing him to delicately wrap the bracelet around you with his smaller, childish hands. Although the armlets around his wrists were bonded to your body like handcuffs, he was still able to put yours on. Your eyes grew wider as he held up his own arm, he had placed his on the opposite side of yours and he gave you a wide, goofy smile. 

Your fingers dragged across the smooth material of the bracelet, admiring the amount of effort Hugo had put into such a gift. There were smaller patches of tape lining the edges of the bracelet but it held itself quite well together. You could feel an overwhelming rush of emotion flood the edges of your eyes as you wiped them away with the back of your hand. Hugo’s eyes softened as you threw your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of it. 

“Thank you, Hugo, I love it,” you said, his neck being tickled by the smile which touched his skin. 

Now that you had lost the bracelet somewhere on the caravan, you were beginning to sort through your entire box of clothes just to find it. You sore that you had left it on your bed or table before you left, but once you came back from the mission, it wasn’t there anymore. You were beginning to doubt whether or not you had even placed it in your room, perhaps you might have accidentally left it on your arm while fighting the Aragami, it must have broken off or had been sliced and left behind to rot at the mission area. 

You felt your sore shoulders and legs ache desperately, your mind drawing back to the earlier mission which left several bruises around your skin when you were dragged across the ground. You hadn’t checked in the mirror but you could feel your neck feeling funny, it was as if someone or something had bitten you the other night. In addition, some areas were simply sore, as if you had done some sort of intense work out before the start of the mission, however, you were starting to forget what exactly happened.

You tugged on the tips of your hair as you groaned. Cursing to yourself for your foolishness, you rummaged through your clothes for what seems like the fourth time already, growing increasingly desperate to find the sentimental gift. The doors slid open, Claire, Phym, and Lulu walking in together to see the floors of the girls' cabin covered in your clothes. 

“What’s going on? Is everything alright?” Claire asked, coming to your side as you dropped your clothes onto the floor with a dejected sigh. 

Perhaps it might be better to tell them after all, you thought, closing your eyes and sighing. 

“I lost the bracelet that was important to me, I can’t find it anywhere in the cabin and I think it might be outside in the Ashlands,” you replied.

“The bracelet you wore around the caravan?” Lulu added, to which you nodded in response. She and Claire hummed while Phym ran up to you to give you a comforting hug.

“Don’t worry mommy! I’ll help you find it!” She said, “we can look around!” 

You smiled and patted the top of her head, “thanks Phym.” 

“We’ll help too, it might be in the lobby or the Medical Ward,” Claire said, putting a hand on your shoulder, “what does it look like?”

You looked down at your empty wrist, “well. . . It should look like Hugo’s. . .” It was hard to describe your bracelet due to how simple it was that it might get mixed up with other products on the caravan, comparing it to Hugo’s was possibly the best option as he wore his around his wrist for the entire time. 

Lulu pressed her lips together as she placed her hand underneath her chin, “maybe it’s in the guy’s cabin? Hugo might have taken it by accident if they look the same.” 

You scratched the back of your head, your mind still fuzzy regarding the events of last night. You were unsure about whether or not you had left it in the guy’s cabin, you vaguely remembered going there when Hugo asked you to come during dinner but couldn’t remember anything after that. Perhaps checking the guy’s cabin would be a good idea, it might even be there if you looked around but you didn’t know if it was an invasion of privacy to do so. 

You released a sigh and nodded, leaving to open the doors of the cabin and stepping out with the rest of the girls following suit. You turned towards the male cabin and knocked on their door, hearing the sound of shuffling and mumbled voices as Zeke opened the door. 

“Oh hey guys, what are you doing here?” He asked, letting the crew come inside the extremely messy cabin. 

You scanned your surroundings, seeing a variety of playing cards left on the table and ground with records and disks scattered across the room. Some of the beds were extremely messy except for the top bunk, which you assumed was Hugo’s based on how straight-faced he could be at times, it reminded you of when Hugo would tell the other kids to make their beds properly before they left the room. It didn’t seem like his advice really aged with Zeke considering how battered and messy his bed was. 

“We were looking for her bracelet, it looks like Hugo’s, have you seen it?” Claire asked. Lulu looked around the room while Phym danced around to try and find the accessory. 

“Oh you mean the gift Hugo got for her? I haven’t seen it here, and if it’s here it must be buried in the sheets somewhere,” Zeke replied, putting his hands on his hips, “you could search around if you want but stay away from the laundry basket, that's pretty awkward just saying.” 

“We aren’t gonna dig through your laundry,” Lulu playfully rolled her eyes and came to Phym’s side, her hands searching through the boxes for any sort of bracelet that matched the description of ‘Hugo’s bracelet’. 

You nodded and began searching through the boxes, most of them consisted of playing cards or secret stashes of food, you assumed that Ricardo gave them to Zeke for him to share with Phym whenever she did a great job on her studying. Everyone searched through the boxes and eventually came to the realization that it wasn’t in the boxes at all. You began to feel even more stressed by the idea that perhaps you truly had lost the gift and it might be in the Ashlands somewhere. 

“Where is Hugo anyway?” Claire asked, closing the box and setting it back on top of the shelf.

“He’s with Hilda and Keith right now, they’re talking about the Acceleration Trigger and how it could rack in some money,” Zeke replied, shuffling through a deck of cards, “maybe you could ask him about it? Better yet, let’s check his bed!”

“What? Why?” Lulu asked.

“The man sleeps on the top bunk, he must be hiding something dude! Look how clean his bed is! There is something going on there,” he said, “I swear sometimes when we adjust the bed, his bunk is a bit loose at times.” 

“Huh, that sounds pretty strange,” Claire said, brushing Phym’s hair as she held onto her in a hug, “maybe he’s just planning something or writing his reports in bed, he is a pretty serious worker.”

“Maybe you should check, you’re his closest friend after all,” Zeke awkwardly coughed. 

You gave Zeke a nod as you climbed the ladder to Hugo’s bunk, fumbling with the sheets until you touched something. You pulled it out from under the sheets and dropped back down to the floor, opening your hand to reveal a black bracelet that was exactly like Hugo’s. 

“That's great! You found it in Hugo’s bed, I wonder how it got there in the first place,” Claire said, Phym clapping her hands in happiness. 

“Mommy you found it!”

You pressed your lips together as you examined it, there were a few scratch marks on the sides and it was much bigger than you remembered it to be. You examined the bracelet closer and realized that while it looked exactly like Hugo’s, it was because it was his.

“Hold on, it’s not the same one,” you replied, keeping the bracelet in your hands whole the group raised their eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean? It looks just like Hugo’s doesn’t it?” Lulu asked. 

You shook your head, “not to be picky or anything, but this one is a lot bigger than my wrist, and there's a few marks on it. It means it’s a bit more worn out than it should be.” 

Zeke scratched the back of his neck, “oh man, I thought we actually found it but I guess it wasn’t the case.”

“Where else would it be then?” Lulu added.

The metal doors of the cabin opened up to reveal Hugo, standing there with a shocked expression, in his hand was a black bracelet and his wrist was completely bare from accessories, aside from his twin armlets. 

“Woah what are you guys doing here? I was just looking for you,” Hugo quickly came to your side with a nervous smile, “I think I took yours by accident.”

“Wait so you guys swapped bracelets?” Zeke asked, Hugo nodding in response.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m sure you were worried about it, weren’t you?” Hugo casually brought your wrist up to help tie the bracelet together, “my bad, our’s just looked the same you know?”

Phym smiled, “mystery solved! Mommy got her bracelet back!” She ran up to you and you brought her into your arms, picking her up and bringing her closer. 

Claire sighed in relief, “that’s great news, may I ask where you both got your bracelets?”

Hugo turned to you and took his bracelet back, wrapping it around his wrist, “we both got them as kids, I usually went around to salvage some abandoned parts for something to give to the other kids. I just happened to find these two.”

You knew that he dumbed down the story a bit, in reality, you knew he had spent many days looking for parts to make a sturdy bracelet that would last years. Hugo smiled at you while you gave one back to him, the rest of the group chatting amongst each other as he brought himself closer to your ear, speaking in a low voice to avoid Phym hearing. 

“You left it here after last night, how are you doing? You were limping a bit at the start of the mission,” Hugo whispered, you slowly turned to him with a blank expression before turning a flush red color. 

You had completely forgotten what you had done last night with Hugo but it was slowly coming back to you. He had invited you to the guy’s cabin to check over some documents but it ended up getting a bit. . . Frisky. You pressed your lips together in embarrassment while Phym tilted her head in confusion to what Hugo said. 

“Haha, don’t worry about it, I thought you would remember it with. . . You know,” he tapped on the sore part of your neck, causing you to flinch and have shivers run down your spine. 

“I-It’s fine,” you replied, seeing Hugo give you a familiar goofy grin while Phym held onto you tighter, “just. . . Remind me next time okay?”

“Alright, I’ll remind you more often,” he gave you a teasing wink to which you responded with an eye roll.

#god eater 3 #god eater 3 x reader #god eater 3 imagines #hugo pennywort #hugo pennywort x reader #hugo pennywort x protagonist

[sarahreesbrennan]

Could you speak about Nick's heroic moment that impressed you? You mentioned Sabrina's heroic moment that impressed you (Lupercalia) and Harvey's heroic moment that impressed you (saving the witches) so I wondered if you had a Nick moment!

Buckle up kids, it’s time for me to get emosh about Nick Scratch!

Yes I do have a Nick moment, and I am happy that you asked about him! (Apologies for taking so long to reply to this and other CAOS questions I have in the queue, life has been a frenzied whirligig.) I know the rules of love triangles, and one must play fair.  

(It has been interesting writing a proper love triangle, which I hadn’t before, and seeing the many reactions to it. I have one friend who was for Harvey in book 2, but in book 3 she switched to Nick. I have one friend who still loves Harvey and was mad he only got one POV chapter in book 3. I have my father, who is scandalized by the thought of love triangles and wishes for people to Commit to Each Other, and is firmly Team Nabrina and Harvalind without knowing either of those ship names! I Cannot and Will Never tell my father about the sex demons.)

I think everybody noticed the moment where Nick Scratch sacrificed himself to Satan to save Sabrina and also the world. It’s such a big moment and a big sacrifice that it instantly makes many forgive him for all his mistakes. And it’s the very end of that part, and I’ve noticed with Netflix binges even more than with usual TV, the end is the bit that sticks most with people and leaves the deepest impression. You can’t just click on the next episode. You have to sit with what happened. 

That moment of heroism wasn’t overlooked. But early in Part 3, we see inside Nick’s mind in hell, and after weeks of torment he’s still fighting. Wrestling the fallen angel, as Jacob wrestled the angel, and saying no, he won’t give up. The kind of heroism that struggles on, and on, even when it’s tough and thankless, is more difficult than impulsively going down in a blaze of glory. It’s hard to feel good about that kind of fight. It isn’t glorious, it isn’t flashy, and it takes bedrock strength and rare courage. I was so impressed by that moment, and I did worry it would be lost, since Nick’s wild acting out from trauma and satanic possession follows. That inspired Nick’s plotline in Path of Night--to think about how Nick was tormented, and how and why he was able to resist the Dark Lord.

Writing Nick’s POV in hell in Path of Night was tricky, as I couldn’t save him and I knew he would be in a dark place even after being saved! Had I been told people would be reading about a fan favorite character being trapped and tormented while stuck in their homes due to pandemic... I don’t know what I would have done. (I mean, I would have asked the time traveler giving me these tips to give me lottery numbers, please.) I hope I would have been brave and written him the same way I did. 

Book 1 (Season of the Witch) is the family-focused book, because Part 1 is about family coming through for Sabrina, and ends on her toasting them at home. Book 2 (Daughter of Chaos) is the romance-focused book, because Part 2 has many people starting new relationships and exploring what relationships mean to them, and ends with Nick coming through for Sabrina. Book 3 had to be the friendship-focused book, as Part 3 had Sabrina on missions with her friends, who were coming through for her by going to hell and fighting monsters and knowing what was up with her at last. 

It couldn’t be about Sabrina and Nick’s romance, any more than Book 1 could really be about Harvey and Sabrina’s romance, because I was foreshadowing a breakup in both books. Both relationships were loving, but terribly damaged by lies (for which I blame Satan!). And all of these people need to find out who they truly are.

A character who only works in a romance isn’t a good character, and I think Nick is a good character. So when you’re examining a character on their own, you have to pose and answer these questions: who IS this person? What do they care about? How can they be taken apart, and put back together? Consent in CAOS is a big and thorny theme, (and a big and thorny subject generally!), and is discussed extensively in Daughter of Chaos, and that plays out in Path of Night, where Nick has his selfhood stripped away from him and has to try and claim it.

The epigraph for the book is a Dostoevsky quote: ‘Hell is the suffering of being unable to love.’ Nick says himself in Part 1 that Satan doesn’t want his servants to love, and hell is Satan’s kingdom, a place of utter loneliness. What do you do, in a book about friendship, with the plotline set in hell?

The truly lost are those who don’t realize they are lonely in hell. Lilith is ruling hell but missing Greendale, because Lilith underneath it all is a team player--she tried to be on Lucifer’s team for millennia until he made it clear there would never be any reward for her work, and in Part 3 she tries to be on Sabrina’s team, and goes to Zelda for help as an ally. There’s hope for Caliban, because in his reaching out for Sabrina, we see he can be lonely in hell. And what about Nick, in the lowest point of that lonely place? 

I like someone who’ll do epic things for their love, but I don’t like when a character only cares about their love--I think that’s small-hearted. Fortunately I don’t think Nick’s that kind of character at all. He undoubtedly loves Sabrina dearly, but he also had a breakdown about being expelled from school, and even under Satan’s dire influence he found a nice white shirt and came to a magic ceremony because he wanted to be part of it: he cares about community. But his is a community in which caring is forbidden, so caring about that community is a paradox in itself which many of the witches have to deal with, forcing them to lie to themselves and each other. (Zelda and Prudence, very much caught in this trap.) Nick and Prudence both project an air of confidence, but Prudence was literally willing to be consumed in order to matter, and Nick willing to be consumed in order to be loved. (But what is there to love, if you’re consumed?)

Nick’s acting out under the influence of Lucifer in Part 3 is like Harvey being impelled to his father’s violence by Lucifer, though it goes much deeper: that influence brings out the specific dark impulses you DO have, while you might never have acted on them. A lot of Nick’s dark impulses are based on insecurity and his terrible coping mechanisms for dealing with that insecurity: he was gutted when expelled because he doesn’t have a home to belong to. He was raised (and abused) by someone possessive and murderous, who told him as abusers do that only she could love him, and then tragically his community’s ethos confirmed that belief for him. He mentions in Part 1 that he envies mortals because they can love. He’s told by his community that what matters is Satanic power, so he’s instantly made insecure by Caliban Prince of Hell, but he’s also insecure about Harvey because of the idea only mortals can love and be loved, and he’s afraid he can’t be loved by Sabrina as she loves this mortal. Of course, that worry itself makes it plain to us Nick is fully capable of love and of being loved, but that is anything but clear to him.    

The witches are starving for love, and that’s love in all senses of the word. Sabrina does a ton to save and help Nick (to the point of overlooking her own pain and betrayal), but she can’t do it on her own because nobody can: everybody needs a net of community to catch them. 

I mentioned that Book 3 was about friendship because it sets up Part 3, in which friends come through for each other. Nick’s part of that. Sabrina isn’t the only one who comes for him in hell: the mortals came too, and that’s important. Nick’s the witch who is always talking about and interested in mortals, and it was interesting to explore in Path of Night how that came to be. He’s also protective of the mortals--all the witches know mortals die easily, it’s why they call them that--but Nick came to protect Harvey in Part 1, and in Part 2 argued with Sabrina that mortals shouldn’t be fighting Satan as Sabrina planned to fight Satan. Obviously he cares about Sabrina more than he cares about them, but he worries about the mortals in the same way you’d be much more concerned about a toddler toddling into battle than a ninja, even if you were in love with the ninja. It says something about a person, when their impulse is to shield the vulnerable rather than target them.  

In Path of Night it was interesting to explore the potential for friendship with the mortals for Nick. Roz and he have a lot in common, as the big readers of their groups, and were open to being charmed by each other in Part 2. Theo would be an amazing friend for anyone, as he’s ride-or-die for his friends, and also very clear-eyed about them. (Not being romantically interested in them helps with that.) It would obviously be good for both Nick and Harvey to start seeing the other as a person rather than an avatar for their own insecurity. And at the end of Part 3, when Sabrina was off in hell and he certainly wasn’t trying to win her favor, Nick showed up when the mortals called, stayed for them, and fought for them. In another time, he died for them. They came for him, and he came for them. Showing up is a good start. I always love a character who shows up: Sabrina constantly, Ambrose and Hilda and Zelda fighting their god for love, Harvey squaring his shoulders and going in to shoot his brother, Theo hurling his own body at the gates of hell.

But the mortals aren’t Nick’s friends yet: they don’t really know him, and Harvey is triggered by lies, which Nick has had to live by. There is someone, though, who does know him. The big romantic plotline of Path of Night is Prudence and Ambrose coming together on adventures far from home, and the thread about friendship there is that Ambrose is working out whether Prudence likes Nick romantically, or Ambrose himself. In Part 1, Prudence is spiky with Nick because he just dumped her and her sisters (as told in book 1). In Part 3, she’s mad at him and tells Sabrina they don’t work as a couple because she has no time for men who betray women, and Prudence is mad at him in Book 3 too. But in Book 2 and Part 2, she’s helping Nick, hanging out with him, and talking him up to Sabrina. It’s Ambrose, the oldest of the coded-young characters and one of the few with a loving home, who sees and names Prudence’s feelings for Nick, for whom she has a pet name. It’s complicated, in their world and with their respective pain, but he is her friend. She’s the one he opens up to at the end of Part 3.

But Nick doesn’t know Prudence is his friend. Lucifer, known as the Father of Lies, systematically takes apart Nick in Path of Night, to get him to the place he’s in when we hit Part 3. He has to convince Nick that what Nick always feared is true: nobody cares. There’s the physical torture element, which I touch on lightly but enough to be clear it happened, but wrestling with inner demons means more. To quote Faulkner, ‘the only thing worth writing about is the human heart at conflict with itself.’ Nick imagines sleeping a lot throughout Path of Night, imagines peace (another epigraph for a Nick chapter is Dante’s ‘Peace to your hungry soul’), but he’s not really sleeping and there’s never any peace--I deliberately made him more and more tired as the story goes on. Not only tired, but sick at heart as the devil tempts him: he’s offered books, a return to childhood and his mother, a return to school, the story of epic romance he wants to be the hero of, mortal acceptance and affection, and finally Prudence as a friend he trusts to tell him the truth. When he uses his sharp mind to discern flaws in all Lucifer’s illusion he’s shown just enough reality to hurt him. (Harvey and Sabrina have much pain and history to work out and there’s love there, as shown by the two names on Sabrina’s candle, but Sabrina and the Fright Club are all risking their lives to save Nick, and Lucifer sure doesn’t want Nick to realize that: Lucifer’s trying to induce despair.) 

When we see how someone is tempted we also see what they value. In Nick’s case it’s his mother’s love, his mother’s books, a home, romantic love from Sabrina, mortal connection, friends, his school and the opportunities for relationships and knowledge it offers. Then we see everything Nick wants stripped away from him, exposed as illusion. To quote from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, one of CAOS’s forebears in the genre and because I love Buffy, ‘Take all that away, and what’s left?’ The answer is ‘Me.’ When all that’s left is you, then you just might be enough. Even if you always feared you wouldn’t be.

At the end of Path of Night, I couldn’t have Nick be saved, or even have Nick realize he was worth saving, but I wanted the ending to be as happy for him as it could be, by showing my audience that there was hope for him to be found, in all senses of the word. I wanted the reader to feel they’d learned more about who he was, gained understanding of his flaws, that there was greatness in him despite said flaws. Sabrina and the mortals ARE coming to rescue him. Prudence DOES care about him. And saying no, in that loneliest and darkest place, meant something. 

So. That’s Nick’s hero moment for me. 

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #nick scratch #nabrina #sabrina spellman #prudence blackwood #harvey kinkle #theo putnam #roz walker #zelda spellman #ambrose spellman #hilda spellman #path of night #caos books #lilith #prince caliban

[the-worst-fe-player]

Give ur best hot take. It can be about anything

Alright lol thinking about if I should do a serious hot take or a fandom one that's why this took so long sorry also rember I'm drunk and do get a little angry in the second one so if the wording is bad so sorry

So the fandom one. The creast system in three houses was so fucking bad because of how unless it is in combat. Like dimitri is the only character who's creast does something semi good but even then it fucks him up half the time like what do the creast actually do that make them so valuable for people in charge because holst is said to be so much stonger then hilda even without a creast. I get they didn't want to make creast do to much so people would be like yeah taking down the creast system wont fuck up the world because an amazing power is gone but like i feel like it does the opposite if I remember correctly Ingrids supports say the creast blood line is dying they probably wouldnt be around in the next couple of decades and like I said with holsts we see that those without creasts can thrive (if somone says milkan I'm going throw hands lol he was an evil jelous sadist bastard that tried to kill his own brother that's why he was chucked out) so if you put all this together it really doesn't make sense for there to be so much Crest hatred from edelgard from the side its hurting the common folk because like its really not what's hurting them is classims something that we have seen done in other games fuck even different fire emblem games much better

Okay next bit is under the cut the real life hot take because I kind of went off on one genral trigger warning for this

So like for a serious hot take trigger warning for pedophilia so both sides to anit and anit anit are fucking full of pedopiles and minors should stay the fuck away from that stuff and anyone on either sides that trys to get minors involved in that kind of stuff are sick because thir exposeing kids not just to real fucked up stuff but also what I said all the pedos that are on both sides taking advantage of kids that want to play my little actvised. and you wanna known why I know because iv been in fandom spaces since I was 12 years old and when I was 13 my stupid bitch ass befriended a map because my idoit ass got manipulated into thinking she was a good person because she said she wouldnt act on those urges (she did I'm fine I blocked her when she kept on asking for pics but fucked me up real bad it did) and was an anti so shes fighting the good fight when actually she was hiding behind the label anti while being a sick cunt on the side and I know I'm not the only one that has had this happen and some wasn't as lucky as me when it came to what got sent. Anyways after that I remember being like so fucking scared of anyone that identifies as an anti even the ones that have maps kill yourself in there bio and I'm honstly still weary of them now at 18 lol because that was my friend I trusted her only to find out I was being maplted for nudes the whole time (which is probably why I'm such a slut now because I'll rather give it out willing then be malpatived again fuck that makes sense did I really have a breakthrough on fucking tumblr) anway I made a post on a reddit vent bored back in the day i I reddit a lot lol and had a couple of nice people commit me saying it's not your fault you didn't know because your so young and also some saying mood but there was this one fucking bitch that was anti anti to start ranting about antis and we stared dm on here anyway long story short they where a freak as well and there is a lot of horror storys online about anit anits so I wont go into as much detail as I did with the anit one but yeah it fucking sucked and I think this is the first time iv ever said this because of how tumblr can be with this stuff also to anyone reading this I dont want no pitty this was my own stupid falut for falling pary to that kind of stuff alright. But yeah just please dont get minors into anit and anit anit stuff leave that to grown adults who not only understand the shit there talking about (mostly) but also aren't in the danger the children are like how many kids have to come out talking about how many people are using this discourse as cover up for them hurting irl minors. Obslevly not also people that are anits are this bad but there enough of them that you probably shouldn't be inviting kids to discord severs full of them

[lynelovespopculture]

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF ZELDA: CHAPTER 16-THE NEW GIRL

 CORDELIA SPELLMAN, NOW 12, FEELS UNEASY AROUND THE NEW GIRL IN HER CLASS…

Cordelia Spellman, smiled at herself in her full-length mirror, as she finished buttoning her blouse and admired her new skirt. Then she sat down at her vanity and picked up her golden chain with a single crescent moon attached. Ever since her parents had given her the necklace as a Yule gift 6 years ago, Cordelia never left the house without her necklace. Whenever she felt anxious or upset, Cordelia would hold the half-moon and pray. Guess being the daughter of a high priestess made you believe a little more. It was a long-standing family joke that if Sabrina’s black headband was her trademark then the necklace was Cordelia’s. After fastening the chain to her neck, Cordelia gathered her school books together and putting them in her backpack when she heard a bird. Turning around, she saw a dove in a tree right outside her bedroom window. A dove that Cordelia knew well.

“Hello, October.” Cordelia greeted the dove before grabbing her backpack and exiting her room. Out in the hallway, Cordelia encountered another animal. A huge brown greyhound lay across the floor, directly in Cordelia’s way. However, this was no mere dog. This was the familiar of Cordelia’s brother, Jake.

“Come on, Apollo, move! You’re in the way!” The dog did move when Cordelia scratched him behind his ear. The dog and the 12-year-old walked through the living room together. As they neared the kitchen, Apollo ran ahead, searching for food and his master. Cordelia stayed behind just long enough to put her book bag down on a hallway bench. Inside the kitchen, Cordelia found the usual suspects: her parents

“Good morning, Mom and Dad.”

Her brother was now feeding Apollo a strip of bacon, and Vinegar Tom, her mother’s dog wasn’t far behind.

“Morning, Jake.”

And her cousin, who unlike her parents and her brother, didn’t live there but worked there and often showed up early enough for breakfast.

“Hey, Ambrose.”

Plus 1 new face around the table.

“Hey, it’s the good doctor.” Cordelia hugged her big sister before sitting down next to her.

“Good morning, Cordy!” LJ smiled. “You don’t seem that surprised to see me here.”

“I’m not,” shrugged Cordelia as she dug into her oatmeal. “Perhaps that’s because I just saw a certain dove perched outside my window not 5 minutes ago.”

“Damn that October! I swear that familiar of mine spoils all my surprises! Anyway, the official reason I’m here is to drop off some medical forums for the boys but I also wanted to check up on you. Are you sure you’re ready for what you need to do today?”

Cordelia couldn’t help but smile. Not only was today the 1st day of school, but it was also Cordelia’s 1st day of 7th grade at Greendale Middle School, the very class that her father taught since she was 4.

Annoyed, Faustus came forward with his cup of coffee. “Hey, you have been teasing your sister all summer about being in my class. I wish you would stop it. I’m a good teacher and you, Cordy, don’t think I’m going to be easy on you because I’m your father.”

Cordelia shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Dad. I going to pass 7th grade with hard work and good grades, the same way I’ll become a top student when I attend the academy.”

Zelda smiled at her daughter. “Now, that’s the right attitude.”

“Butt kisser.” Jake teased his sister good-naturedly.

 10 minutes later, everyone left the kitchen. Ambrose and Jake went to work in other parts of the house, while everyone else was heading out the door. Zelda, to morning assembly at the academy, LJ was heading to the hospital to start her rounds and Faustus started the engine to his white VW bug as Cordelia climbed in beside him.

“So, did you and Mom have the talk today?” she asked her father.

“What talk?” Faustus asked his daughter.

Cordelia shrugged. “The talk, the talk you and Mom have at the start of every school year.  The one where Mom asks you to come to teach at the academy and every year, you turn down Mom’s offer.”

“You know about that?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Everyone in the family knows. What I don’t get is why you keep turning her down. When I was little, you told me that Ambrose is the most powerful warlock in the family but I’ve known for a long time that it’s you. Plus, I heard Uncle C and Aunt Hilda talking about how you used to work there and- “

“Cordy, I don’t feel comfortable talking about this.” Faustus cut in.  “Yes, I used to work at the academy, but that was a long time ago, before the curse.”

“Of course!” His daughter spat. “Whenever I try to bring up anything about your past, all you ever say is it happened before the curse. Never mind that you always say you’ll tell me about this curse someday, but you never have. Dad, I’m 12 now, whatever this curse is, I can handle it.”

Faustus sighed as he pulled into the school parking lot. He couldn’t blame Cordelia for her anger toward him. She was right, of course, he brought up the ‘before the curse’ line a lot but what the child didn’t know was that he tried twice as much to tell his daughter what the curse actually was. Yet, he just couldn’t do it. Even when Zelda was right there beside him to support and help him to explain it all. But 1 look in Cordy’s innocent, trusting eyes, and Faustus chickened out every time. You’re weak, boy, you’ve always been weak. His father’s words were never far in Faustus’s mind. No words could be enough to express how thankful and grateful he was to the Spellmans for their unending understanding and support of him for the last 13 years. However, no matter how loved, safe, and secure his family would make him feel, something always happened, a memory, a nightmare, (last week’s was a real doozy) to trigger his never-ending guilt yet again. That’s why he declined Zelda’s yearly offer to return to teaching at the academy.  It was no longer a school to him, just a scene of his crimes. He felt the same way about the church, though he found it easier to avoid the school. When he did go to mass, he sat in the very last pew, even if as the spouse of the high priestess, it was his right to sit upfront with the rest of his family. He liked to get in and out, to see as less of the coven as possible. Even if the coven and the family’s forgiveness had lasted for 13 years, Faustus still lived his life as if that forgiveness could be revoked at any moment. This is why he couldn’t tell the youngest Spellman that it was only because of her mother that he wasn’t trapped forever inside a wicked, murdering husk. Sometimes it felt like Cordelia was the only 1 left in the world who didn’t know of his crimes and, selfish or not, he liked it that way.

“No, your mother and I didn’t have ‘that talk’ today, we had it yesterday.” There, it was all Faustus was willing to say on the subject. Faustus parked the car and pointed. “There are your friends.”

Thankfully, the sight of her best friends, blond triplets Emily, Erin, and Erica Warner, was enough to distract Cordelia from their current conversation.

“Thanks, Dad,” Cordelia pecked her father’s cheek, left the car, and made a beeline for her friends. “Hi, guys!”

“Hey, Cordy,” Said Emily.

“Hi, Cordelia” Replied Erica.

Erin just waved.

Cordelia frowned. “What’s wrong with you 3? You all look like you didn’t sleep a wink all night long.”

“We didn’t,” mumbled Erin.

“How could we when Mom and Dad had another all-night screaming match.” Emily agreed with her sister.

“Again?!” Cordelia frowned, the triplets confided in her that their parents were having marriage problems for quite some time.

“Hey there, girls!” came a voice from behind.

“Sara!”  All 3 Warner girls cried and turned to embrace the girl coming towards them.

Cordelia wasn’t sure what disturbed her more.  The fact that she had never seen this new girl a day in her life or that she got a warmer welcome from her besties than she did. However, Cordelia easily dismissed the thought when Erin turned back to her.

“Cord, this is Sara Reed. She just moved 3 doors down from us about 2 weeks ago. Sara, this is Cordelia Spellman, she’s been our best friend since, like, ever.”

“So, I’m finally meeting the famous Cordelia Spellman.”

“Well, I don’t know about famous,” Cordelia smiled.

The bell rang so the girls headed inside the school.

“Are you kidding?” Sara told Cordelia, “the triplets talk about you all the time. To hear them tell it, your family owns the town.”

“Hardy,” Cordelia giggled. “Truthfully, they only own 2 businesses, but they are all over town. Let’s see, my uncle owns Dr. Cerberus’s books and spirits and he runs it with my aunt Hilda.  She herself co-owns the Spellman Sisters mortuary with my mother but Mom teaches high school with my oldest sister, Prudence. So the mortuary’s day to day business is run by Ambrose, my cousin, and my brother Jake. Not too far from Uncle C’s shop, is the new office of my other cousin, Sabrina, who’s a therapist. LJ, my other sister, is a doctor.”

“What about your father?” Sara asked.

“Oh, Dad’s right here,” Cordelia answered. “Dad has been teaching 7th grade at this school since I was 4.”

“Which means that Mr. Spellman is our teacher this year.” Erin pointed out.

This made Sara confused. “Wait, I thought you guys were going into 8th grade?”

Emily shook her head. “Nope,7th.”

“I’m going into 8th.” Sara declared.

“I thought she was 12, like us,” Cordelia whispered to Erica.

“She is, but Sara is so cool, I’m not surprised she skipped a grade.”

“Oh yeah,” Cordelia smiled. “What makes her so cool?”

“She’s a Wiccan.”

Her friends didn’t notice when Cordelia froze and her smile disappeared.

 Nina Robinson was the school’s new 8th-grade teacher and she was not at all happy to be there. Some teachers’ passion was children, but Nina’s true passion was men. That was got her in her current troubles. If her boyfriend-correction, ex-boyfriend, had simply told his wife about them, he probably could have avoided a political scandal.  Yet here Nina was, in a backward hic town instead of her beloved New York.

How am I going to find Mr. tall, dark and handsome here in the middle of Nowhere, USA? Nina thought to herself just before Mr. tall, dark, and handsome walked by.

Luckily, Nina was standing right next to Theo Putnam, the vice-principal of the school.  “Um, Mr. Putnam? Who is that?” Nina asked, pointing.

“Oh, that’s Faustus Spellman, he’s been teaching 7th grade here for 8 years. His niece, Sabrina, is a childhood friend of mine.”

Nina could care less about childhood friends as she checked out this Faustus guy and she liked what she saw. Most women would back off when they saw Faustus’s wedding ring, but not Nina. She liked a challenge.

  “So, how are you today, Mr. Wilson?” LJ smiled at her favorite patient.

“Much better now that you’re here.”  Mr. Wilson took LJ’s hand and kissed it.

“Well, I’m certainly glad that those 3 surgeries didn’t rob you of your charm.”

LJ turned as the door opened and there was a man LJ didn’t know. “Excuse me, Mr. Wilson? I was sent here to check your I.V. and do some bloodwood.”

“Well, do it, then. Can’t you see I’m trying to flirt here?”

LJ chuckled as she moved to allow the stranger room to work. LJ also check the chart at the end of Mr. Wilson’s bed. “Everything looks good here. I’ll check back on you this afternoon.”

LJ and the man left the hospital room together. “I’m sorry, but have we met?” LJ asked the man out in the hallway. “It’s just that I’ve worked here for the last 5 years and I can’t place you.”

The man smiled. “Nor should you. I’m part of a group of interns that just transferred here from Moon Valley.”

“Oh, okay. Well, welcome to Greendale Memorial Hospital. How are you liking it so far?”

“I like it very much. I mean, the people are great. There’s only 1 thing I’m nervous about.  My pals keep telling me how tough our supervisor is. I haven’t met him yet; some guys say that our new supervisor is some hard ass resident named Dr. Spellman. Oh, where are my manners?” I’m Peter, Peter Watson.”

“LJ. LJ Spellman.”

Peter stopped walking. “You’re kidding, right.”

LJ kept smiling as she shook her head. “Afraid not.”

“Look, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“After I get my foot out of my big mouth, how about I apologize properly by buying you a drink after work?”

LJ’s smile got bigger. “I would like that.”

 Over the years, some found it odd, that everyone at Greendale middle school, both staff and students alike, all had their lunch break at noon sharp. Yet today, it was a blessing. For at 10 after 12, a fire broke out in the southeast end of the school. Far away from the cafeteria and the teacher’s lounge. By 12:30, all the fire alarms were screaming at full force and the firetrucks were arriving just as the yard was filling with people. By 1 pm, the principal and vice-principal were busy calling parents to tell them not only about the fire but also the happy news that no one was hurt. To give the school a chance to air out all that extra smoke, afternoon classes were held outside, made possible by the nice weather. Although the flames were brief, it did ruin 2 rooms. The library and the 8th-grade classroom were burnt and would be unusable for months. By 3, it was safe to come back inside. By 3:30, the school was over and Cordelia was putting some books in her locker before heading into the girls’ bathroom. Cordelia pushed open the door and froze. There, among a dozen lit candles, were her 3 best friends and the new girl, Sara, all hovering over an Ouija board.

#chilling adventures of sabrina #caoz #chapter 16 #fanfic #zelda spellman and faustus blackwood #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #hilda spellman #ambrose spellman #sabrina spellman #cordelia spellman #lj spellman #Jake spellman #please comment #please reblog #yes i know i've already posted a link to a03 but i've always posted on here too so...

[houseisekai]

House Isekai: Shadowbringers Act 2, Part 2 - By the time you hear this...

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

Upon discovering the true identity of Lahabrea, The Golden Deer and Investigation Team move deeper into the Zanado Tower.

It is there where they make a discovery that pushes them, and everyone in Fodlan into a race against time...

—

Unknown Tower, Zanado

[A Long Fall - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

Claude and Yu moved first towards the crates with their weapons drawn.

The rest of the Golden Deer and Investigation Team followed behind, slowly looking around.

Yu opened the crates and bags of food. It was clear by the dust on them that they had been here for a very long while.

Claude came closer and examined one of the bags, picking it up.

Claude opened the bag, and small blocks of meat fell out of it.

(Claude) “...Huh.”

The meat hadn’t spoiled. In fact, it looked brand new. 

He took another look at the crate, and it appeared that the food had been here for a while.

(Yu) “That doesn’t make any sense. How is the food still fresh?”

Lorenz, Hilda, Yosuke, and Naoto moved up the stairs, taking note of the planks of wood, crates, and lanterns as they were passing by.

Some of them were sawn in half while others appeared to have been unused.

The wood was nailed onto the walls and crates stacked on top of each other were in front of them. 

As they moved up, there were other stairs that appeared to lead higher into the tower but the path with the open door caught their attention.

(Lorenz) “Has someone already been in here?”

(Hilda) “It must be that Lahabrea guy, er...was it Byleth?”

(Yosuke) “We’ll cross that road when we get to it. For now let’s keep our eyes peeled, yeah?”

(Naoto) “Yu-senpai, up here!”

(Hilda) “Claude, get your butt up here!”

Everyone moved up the stairs after they finished investigating.

(Chie) “We didn’t seem to find much, other than supplies.”

(Leonie) “Looks like a bunch of people were here working on this place. Though, I doubt it only took some magic and wood to create this entire place.”

(Lysithea) “No, it seems they were trying to keep something out.”

Everyone nervously looked at each other after hearing that.

Just how big was this tower?

(Teddie) “No use waiting, let’s go in!”

Teddie ran to the open doorway and was ready to fight, the others quickly following behind.

(Ignatz) “T-Teddie! We have to stick together and!-...”

(Teddie) “JEEZ, THIS ROOM IS HUUUUGE!”

Teddie stepped near the edge and his eyes almost went out of his bear suit.

(Kanji) “Holy shit!”

(Marianne) “H-How is this area so big?!”

(Rise) “My Persona’s scans are going off the charts! There’s so much happening and-”

Everyone reached for their heads as they heard Claude’s voice echo through the halls.

“As big class reunions go, this one’s gotta be the worst in history...”

KABOOOOOOM!

The tower shook violently, throwing people off their feet and into the ground.

(Claude) “Never thought the sound of my own voice would be that annoying...!”

(Yu) “I don’t think this is a good time to be cracking jokes.”

Everyone was trying to steady themselves before they heard something in the distance.

clang! clang!

(Raphael) “Hey, I think I hear people fighting!”

Raphael pointed to the end of the walkway, with a glowing circle-like shape at the end of it.

(Raphael) “It sounds like it’s coming from over there!”

Everyone went over near the glowing circle, and it began to flash repeatedly.

(Yukiko) “Um, what does that mean-”

Leonie took a step into it, which catapulted all of them forward into another walkway, soaring high above a massive gap that fell deep into the tower.

When they landed, it prematurely cut off their screaming as they fell onto their backs and stomachs.

(Yosuke) “Ack, I think I cracked my ass...!”

(Claude) “Leonie, next time WARN US before you do that!”

(Leonie) “S-Sorry! I didn’t know it would-”

She was cut off as they were suddenly transported into a massive open field in the middle of battle.

Before they could realize what was happening, Naoto turned around and her eyes went wide.

(Naoto) “EVERYONE GET DOWN, NOW!”

Turning to see what was coming, they all screamed and dove onto the floor, a massive fireball hurling itself past and landing behind the group.

Claude looked up to see himself running into the front, firing arrows into incoming Imperial soldiers.

The group got up and slowly backed up, watching Alliance soldiers follow and move in front of Claude.

(Hilda) “Wait a second, isn’t this?-...”

Hilda saw herself in the distance, fighting off Imperial and Kingdom soldiers as she and several others moved towards a hill.

(Yu) “Gronder Field?! But how did we-”

The entire battlefield began to flash before they were returned back to the Tower where they landed.

(Chie) “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

(Lorenz) “I-I don’t know. It looked like Gronder Field, and that certainly was us but-...”

(Ignatz) “I don’t remember us fighting the Kingdom soldiers. We were just fighting the Imperials!”

(Claude) “Yeah, and I wasn’t fighting the soldiers. Just Edelgard and Dimitri until Lahabrea and Byleth stopped us.”

(Naoto) "Wait a moment, do you remember what Lahabrea said when he was fighting the professor? They were teleported to that future since their subconscious had those memories. What if we went to Gronder in that time because you had been there before?"

(Claude) "...That was us from...those previous times? Man, thats weird to say."

(Yu) "Then what about our voices? Do you think we're going to be encountering our memories too?"

Everyone looked deeper into the tower before hearing echoes of more voices.

(Hilda) "Guess there's only one way to find out..."

Everyone held their weapons tightly and ran down the walkway, only now noticing that some of the platforms were moving on their own.

Some were carrying an assortment of supplies while some were empty.

There was another circle pad at the end of the hallway, which made everyone stop and look at their leaders.

Claude nodded and waited a moment for everyone to brace themselves. He stepped onto the pad and as expected, launched them into the air onto another walkway.

This time everyone landed on both feet, and carried on, noticing the memories of the past flashing more and more.

As they began to run down the next walkway, they were transported to another location, one unfamiliar to the Golden Deer.

The area suddenly became foggy, reducing everyone’s vision to almost nothing.

(Raphael) “Fog?”

The Investigation Team paused for a moment before Yukiko put on glasses.

(Yukiko) “Put your glasses on!”

The rest of the team put on their glasses and their vision became clear as day.

(Rise) “...Yeah, readings are almost accurate to our world’s Midnight Channel!”

(Lorenz) “How in the world do those glasses allow you to see through this fog?!”

(Lysithea) “It’s so thick I can’t even see my hands in front of me!”

(Chie) “Long story short, Teddie made these for us specifically for the Midnight Channel, otherwise these things are useless! So the fact it’s working now-”

(Kanji) “This being transported to recreations of our memories shit is serious!”

(Naoto) “How far does this go?”

The area began to flash a bright white before fading away, putting the groups back to their original location.

As they moved to the end of the walkway, there was a pad that seemed to send them down, deeper into the tower.

(Claude) “Let’s keep going for-”

An arrow whizzed by his head, making everyone duck down and look towards the direction it came from.

(Hilda) “WOAH!”

A soldier in an orange glow was loading up another arrow before Naoto drew her gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet went straight through the phantom soldier but it still acted as if it was hit, then quickly faded away into a burst of energy.

(Yu) “Something tells me we should move a little faster...”

(Raphael) “Then let’s stop talking and go!”

Raphael stepped onto the pad, catapulting him deeper into the tower. Everyone else followed him and quickly, yet gently floated towards the bottom.

The size of the interior was almost staggering, a massive glowing crystal in the middle of the room led down to a seemingly bottomless green pit. 

After a minute of floating down, they finally reached the bottom.

As they took in their surroundings, they noticed a massive door, with the crystal core looming over them.

The group approached the door, looking for some way to open it.

(Ignatz) “There doesn’t seem to be a lever anywhere.”

(Yosuke) “No button, handle...is this an automatic door?”

(Yukiko) “If that’s the case, what opens it? Clearly people don’t.”

(Rise) “Maybe there’s some kind of keycard?”

(Lorenz) “A...key card?”

(Chie) “It’s something from our world. Normally I’d say you guys don’t have the technology to have anything similar to ours but this entire tower...”

(Lysithea) “Hey, there’s something over here on the crate!”

Lysithea picked it up and showed it to the group.

(Teddie) “It’s...a crystal rectangle?”

(Leonie) “Sorta looks like that crystal message thing from earlier.”

(Marianne) “Is there a way to let us hear the message?”

(Naoto) “May I?”

Lysithea shrugged and handed it to Naoto. As soon as she came into contact with it, the crystal began glowing.

(Soldier’s voice) “By the time you hear this, I’ll be dead, so don’t bother trying to save me! Just...Get the hell out of here! This...This door, I don’t know who, or when it was made, but it...It goes into your mind! N-No, that’s not right, It takes you- O-oh GODDESS! HELP, NO-----...........”

(Everyone) ?!

(Yu) “What in the...?”

(Hilda) “What the heck happened?!”

(Kanji) “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t mess with this shit after all-”

Before anyone could another comment, the door slowly began to open, emitting an orange glow.

(Claude) “Tch, too late!”

Everyone drew their weapons expecting something to appear.

Instead, when the door open, everyone slowly felt a force pushing them in.

(Teddie) “H-Hey, my footing is-”

A violent shockwave blew out from the door, knocking everyone off their feet as it dragged them into the glowing orange light.

(Hilda) “GAH?!”

(Claude) “DAMN IT, EVERYONE TRY TO GRAB ONTO-”

Claude was the first to enter, completely vanishing from sight.

Lorenz was almost next to fall in, but Yukiko grabbed his hand and summoned her Persona to grab her.

(Yukiko) “S-So...Strong!”

Marianne, Rise, and Teddie were the next ones absorbed into the door, everyone struggling to even muster the strength to resist.

A final shockwave forced everyone into the door as their bodies leapt from the ground, into the light, Yu being the last one to enter.

...

[Song End]

...

Yu flew outwards from the portal and landed face first into the hard surface of the ground.

As his vision started to clear up, he could hear everyone groaning from the pain of their landing.

The area they were in was extremely claustrophobic, with a table in the middle, and some furniture and decorations most of them didn’t recognize.

(Teddie) “MMMMMFFF!”

(Raphael) “Oh, crap I think I’m crushing him!”

(Lysithea) “Then get off of him, don’t just say you are!”

Raphael quickly got up, only to see Teddie completely flattened.

(Hilda) “EUGH! Ugh, I’ll never get used to that!”

(Teddie) “Sh...Shaddup!”

Rise and Yosuke helped Yu up as everyone else tried to recover from the fall.

(Rise) “Senpai, are you alright?

(Yu) “I’m fine, Rise. Where are we?”

(Yosuke) “I don’t think we took the time to actua-?!”

Yosuke’s eyes grew wide as he looked around.

(Yu) “What is i-...?!”

Yu had the same reaction as Yosuke once he recognized the room.

(Claude) “Yu, recognize this place?”

(Yu) “It’s my room!”

(Hilda) “Huh?”

The Investigation Team looked around and quickly realized he was telling the truth.

(Kanji) “Think it’s one of those memory flashes from before?”

(Naoto) “It’s hard to say. I think it would have gone away by now if it was-”

knock knock knock!

(Little girl’s voice) “H-Hello? Is anyone in there?”

Marianne and Ignatz were closest to the door, and reached for their weapons before Yu put a hand on both of them.

(Yu) “N...N-Nanako?”

(Nanako) “Huh? Big bro?”

Yu opened the door and let her in, shocking everyone.

(Claude) “Has...any of the phantoms acknowledged our presence besides wanting to kill us?”

Nanako looked extremely confused looking at the Golden Deer.

(Nanako) “Who are they? And what are they saying?”

(Hilda) “Huh? Can you not understand us sweetie?”

(Nanako) “...?”

(Yosuke) “Nana-chan, you understand what we’re saying right?”

(Nanako) “Yes...? I’m really confused right now...”

(Dojima’s voice) “Nanako! Is everything alright up there?”

(Nanako) “Yeah! It’s just big bro and his friends!”

(Yu) “Dojima too?”

Yu motioned everyone to follow him downstairs, including Nanako.

At first Dojima looked confused seeing Yu and the Investigation Team come down the stairs. The last thing he remembered was seeing Yu and his friends off at the train station. That was just yesterday.

He was about to say something before seeing the Golden Deer right behind them, carrying all sorts of weapons.

(Naoto) “H-Hello, Dojima-san.”

(Claude) “Yeesh, this is awkward. How do we even begin this?”

(Lorenz) “Greetings, we are part of the Leicester Alliance!”

(Dojima) “Er...What language are they speaking?”

(Marianne) “Certainly not like that...”

(Dojima) “No first of all, how the hell did you all get into the house? We haven’t even left all day!”

Teddie ran up to Dojima and began poking him.

(Dojima) “H-Hey, back off!”

(Teddie) “SENSEI, HE’S REAL!”

(Everyone) ?!

[Paradisaical Predicaments - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

(Chie) “Woah woah woah, hang on! We’re really back in Inaba?!”

(Nanako) “What are you all talking about? Are you guys okay?”

Kanji and Rise rushed to the back doors and opened it, seeing it was a bright and sunny day.

(Kanji) “No orange shi-...crap as far as I can see.”

(Rise) “I’m sensing something nearby us-...W-Why can I still sense things?! We’re not in the Midnight Channel or Fodlan!”

Lysithea pulled out a tome and snapped her fingers, a black flame appearing at the very tip.

(Lysithea) “I can still cast magic?”

Nanako and Dojima started to get more on edge as both groups were testing their own theories out.

(Yu) “Everyone stand back, there’s one last test we need to do...”

Yu adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath, holding out his hand.

(Yu) “Izanagi!”

A tarot card appeared floating above his hand, which he crushed into pieces, summoning his Persona right behind him.

(Dojima) “WHAT IN THE?!”

(Nanako) “Dad?!”

Yu turned to face Izanagi, frowning at the fact he was able to summon his Persona. Izanagi quickly disappeared at Yu’s command.

(Yukiko) “T-That should be impossible!”

(Leonie) “Is it not normal for you guys to be able to summon those?”

(Yosuke) “NOT IN THE REAL WORLD!”

(Chie) “O-Oh my god, this is too much to handle!”

(Dojima) “Hang on just a damn second, who are these people, and what is even happening?!”

Claude froze when he realized what Rise said.

(Claude) “...Rise, what exactly were you sensing?”

(Rise) “Um...it’s a signature similar to something we fight called a Shadow.”

Everyone turned to Rise.

(Yu) “...Where?”

The entire house shook violently as a roar came from outside.

Everyone dashed outside to find a mass of black clouds forming with arms and glowing red eyes.

People screamed in horror seeing what was happening outside, and ran for their lives in the opposite direction.

Nanako ran behind Dojima, her legs trembling as he reached for his gun.

(Yu) “There’s no denying it, we’re really back home-”

(Yosuke) “But how are shadows able to form in the real world?!”

(Dojima) “GET DOWN, NOW!”

Dojima opened fire at the shadows, which they quickly disappeared into orange glowing light.

(Claude) “BEHIND YOU!”

Claude raised his bow and fired an arrow behind Dojima, killing another Shadow that was sneaking up on them.

(Dojima) “Thanks.”

Rise gasped as she summoned her Persona and began scanning the shadows.

(Rise) “These signatures, they’re starting to match the phantoms from the tower!”

(Hilda) “What?! How?! We’re not even in Fo-”

KAFOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The ground shook violently as if an earthquake struck Inaba, the screaming of everyone getting louder.

(Kanji) “Holy shit, EVERYONE, OVER THERE!”

Kanji pointed towards the direction of the riverbed, where they saw the Zanado Tower.

(Marianne) “How did it...!?”

(Yu) “We have to get back to Fodlan, Rise how dangerous are these shadows?!”

(Rise) “A-A little but I think the police or armed forces can deal with them, seeing how quickly Dojima and Claude killed them!”

(Dojima) “Yu, do you know what’s going on?!”

(Claude) “Tell your uncle we have to go, can they defend themselves?!”

(Dojima) “Go where, exactly?! Who even are you?!”

(Claude) “We’re going back to...!!!...You...You understand me now?”

(Dojima) “I...I can. I can?”

(Lysithea) “What...?! Wait a second, the Investigation Team was only able to understand us and vice versa because they came to Fodlan. Does that mean...?!”

Naoto quickly looked back at the Tower, the skies started to lose the color of its blue into a pale white.

(Yu) “Dojima, we’ll be back as soon as we can. Hold out until then.”

Dojima looked at the tower, then back to the group.

(Dojima) “...Be careful, Yu.”

(Nanako) “Stay safe, big bro...”

Yu nodded and held onto his Katana’s sheathe, everyone rushing towards the Tower.

Tokyo, Leblanc Cafe...

Sojiro washed the cups and half-heartedly listened to the TV until breaking news came on, catching everyone’s attention.

(Reporter) “This just in, several unknown towers have seemingly materialized out of nowhere in 3 locations, a town called Inaba out in the country, Tokyo, and Tatsumi Port Island!”

Sojiro stopped washing the cups as everyone in the cafe began to mutter to themselves. He frowned and went outside and onto the street, finding a massive half crystal half red rock tower piercing the skies.

(Sojiro) “What in the hell...?”

He took out his phone and tried calling Futaba.

...

No luck.

She had only been missing for a day, and he couldn’t seem to call Akira or any of the other former Phantom Thieves.

Part of him wondered if they had something to do with this...

Tatsumi Port Island, Kirijo Group Headquarters

(Officer) “What did the scanners say about those towers?!”

(Officer 2) “Sir, shadow presence is confirmed but...something’s off with them. It’s like it’s half shadow half...”

(Officer) “Half what?!”

(Officer 2) “We don’t know sir, we’ve never seen anything like it before.”

(Officer) “Get the anti-shadow weapons deployed before too many people are harmed, whatever it is, we need to stop this! Get the S.E.E.S operatives on the line, now!”

(Officer 2) “Yes sir!”

Fodlan, outskirts of Derdriu

As the group was walking quietly, the Persona Users suddenly dropped to their knees, grabbing their heads and wincing in pain.

(Akira) “AAAGH!”

(Minato) “S-Shit!”

(Minako) “M-My head...!”

(Edelgard) “Healers, NOW!”

(Kazuma) “The hell?! What’s going on?!”

(Rean) “A-Are they getting more of those weird voices?”

(Ainz) “If that’s the case, why aren’t we getting it?”

Lahabrea and Sothis looked at each other with unease.

(Sothis) “Do you think its...?”

(Lahabrea) “There’s no other explanation, it has to be. EVERYONE, MOVE IT TO DERDRIU, NOW! PICK THEM UP IF YOU HAVE TO!”

The healers tried to help the Persona users, but to no avail. Eventually some had to be carried and helped as they walked.

Sitri let Minako’s arm go over her shoulder and moved with the rest of the group.

(Sitri) “Minako, can you understand what’s going on?”

(Minako) “A...A tower...?”

Sitri only looked more confused as Sothis and Lahabrea tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

(Sothis) “We’re running out of time, if we don’t activate this plan-”

(Lahabrea) “I know...”

He closed his eyes and sighed.

(Lahabrea) “I know.”

Part 2: END

[This Beautiful Cruel World - Attack On Titan OST]

Your dream is where your heart is

It’s something more fragile than life itself

No matter how many times you throw it away, you still find it

So rest in peace now

Your wish is violated by your pulsing urge

and as much as you forget about it, you recall it again

In this beautiful and cruel world

We only ask “why” we’re still alive…

Ah, what are we going to protect

with our strength and weakness? If reason no longer exists

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

#House isekai #House Isekai Shadowbringers #fanfic #crossover #byleth eisner #Claude von Riegan #yu narukami

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Family Fights - Chapter Fifteen

Summary:  Even the strongest bond, the most loving family, can be broken by nightmares, and the librarian is soon to learn this. As she learns sinister things about a person who she had thought was lost forever, she realizes she will need the help of another witch to get her family back.

Notes: Guys, just to let you know there’s an initiation rite of sorts in this chapter. I tried to portray it the healthiest I could, but if cults/religion triggers you, you should be cautious after the first scene (ya know, after the first _#_#_#_)

(chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9) (chpt10) (chpt11) (chpt12) (chpt13) (chpt14) (chpt15)

The girls enjoyed varying their meeting place often. Though they had one spot in the Huldrawoods that they called theirs, it wasn’t uncommon that in the colder months they’d do their gatherings in one of their houses. When that wasn’t the case, though, sometimes they still liked sitting around Myra’s tend. A change of scenery helps us get creative with the nightmares, Jade always said.

That night was one of those occasions. Neither she nor Jade had gone out haunting, staying at the woods instead. They were trying to get everything ready for when the girls came back with more stories, lighting up their fire and putting logs around it for them to sit on.

Jade had been acting off that evening, Myra noticed. At random moments, she’d stop what she was doing and look around suspiciously, or take a deep breath with her brows together in a frown. She tried to ignore it, but Myra had been with the Marra long enough to know that she was sensing something she didn’t like, and she knew that it would fall to her to give an explanation.

Eventually, when Myra was about to sit down to wait for the group, Jade grasped her shoulders and made her look into her eyes. Myra tensed you instinctively; it was never good when Jade got angry.

“There’s something off here.” She said, staring at her face intensely so as to be able to catch any sign of deception. “Myra, was a human here?”

Myra held her breath and forced herself to not look away. Many weeks had passed since that happened, she’d hoped that the girls wouldn’t be able to pick up their energy traces. And she was quite sure the others wouldn’t be able to, but being the oldest member of the Marra, she should have expected Jade’s senses to be sharper.

“My sister came here.” She admitted. “But I sent her away.”

Strengthening her grip on Myra, Jade narrowed her eyes.

“Only your sister?”

Myra took a deep breath. It would be easy for her to lie, but if Jade was pressing for more information, then she could have already picked up the energy imprint of two different humans. And Myra definitely did not want to face the consequences for lying to her.

“I sensed someone else when she came, but I didn’t even get to see them. And later a friend of hers came-”

“A friend? A witch too?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Her breathing was hard though she did her best to hide it, and she measured her words carefully to make sure nothing she said could be interpreted as untruthfulness.

“And you let her go?!” Myra couldn’t help but flinch at the harshness in her voice, but at least Jade let her go, taking a step back and stomping her foot on the ground. “Myra, what the hell? We could have kept her! How long has it been since we had a decent practice target?”

“But she was an adult!”

“That would be even better! Don’t tell me we wouldn’t have tons of fun scaring a grown up. It’s much better than those scaredy-cat kids that we usually go for.”

Myra crossed her arms over herself as Jade paced around the campfire. The way she looked at her when she was angry always left her with a chill inside.

“We never go for adults for a reason. Their fears are much harder to recreate, you told me so yourself.” She argued. Myra still remembered vividly how she’d wanted to haunt her teachers and her headmaster when she first became a marra, to give them a taste of how she felt going to school. To give them a taste of how she felt every day and they did nothing about it. She’d been advised against it, though. All the other girls warned her that she did not want to discover the pain that trying to recreate existential crises in nightmares was.

“Exactly! If we had a guinea pig, we would be able to get better at that! But you just let her go. You know how rare is it for adults to be in a place where they’re vulnerable for us to catch them?”

Not knowing how to defend herself, Myra only lowered her head and accepted the mocking that Jade kept throwing at her. Even when the girls arrived, the first thing that she did was tell them all about Myra’s shortcomings, making her the laughingstock for the night.

They’re just messing around, she told herself that night, when they were all gone and she was free to stare at the night sky undisturbed. The moon was in waxing crescent, she realized. The time to set intentions to work on and get ready to take action. The moon’s first step towards fullness.

She sighed, curling herself into a ball in front of her tent. It used to be her favorite phase when she was a child. It reminded her of the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland, and every other month when the crescent moon came around, she’d ask her sister and mother to read her the book. She would giggle as they made different voices for the characters and imagine that the moon was the cat smiling down at her.

But that time was long gone. She could do magic much more powerful than the prosperity spells that occasionally would be cast on times of waxing crescent, and she could do it in any moon phase. She didn’t need her mother to read her stories, or the silly beliefs her family held about a rock in the sky. She was infinitely stronger now.

But if she was so much stronger, why did she feel like she was about to cry?

_#_#_#_

Everything had to be perfect.

Well, things didn’t have to be perfect. Her apprentice had never expected flawlessness, or complained when she took her through ways that weren’t as interesting as the traditional practice. But this? She wanted this to be as close to a proper witch’s ceremony as she could, because she knew that Hilda would love it.

The Inaugural was one of the most important marks in a witch’s path. It was when a young practitioner stopped being an initiate to finally earn the title of apprentice witch. it was when the practitioner could say that they were no longer glimpsing into the path of witchcraft to decide whether or not it was for them, but in the beginning of their own path. And, aside from all the symbolism, it was when the young witch was given their wand.

Maven vividly remembered her Inaugural. She remembered her mother in ceremonial vests leading them to the forest, her father carrying her baby sister behind her. The utter joy she’d felt when her mother had given her her wand and declared her a witch had left a warm mark on her heart, and looking back she pinpointed that moment as the one when she realized how deep her love for magic went. Because that was the moment she realized it was not about power, it was about connection.

Originally, she wasn’t going to organize an Inaugural for Hilda. She’d planned on simply giving her her wand when she was ready and continuing her training. But in the months they’d trained together, their relationship had clearly changed, and Maven had long stopped pretending that she wasn’t as invested in the girl’s happiness as she was in her magic. Now, she wanted to give her a ceremony as close to tradition as she could.

All the members of a magic community showed up to this event, to greet their newest member into their circle and honour them. However, there were no magical communities in Trolberg, no covens to speak of anymore, which did take some of the shine away from the experience. For her own Inaugural, her mother had invited a few great aunts and uncles which she didn’t think she’d ever seen again, even when they looked for other witches to help them in their research on the Marra. Hilda, however, didn’t even have that, so Maven had to make do with what she had.

The beach had been the chosen spot for the ceremony, for having been the place where Hilda managed an important turning point in her practice, and now her two best friends whispered to themselves by the shoreline. Not too far away were Alfur, who had made a point of helping Maven in the organization of the Inaugural, and Raven. Johanna wasn’t there yet, as she was the one responsible for bringing Hilda to the chosen spot.

With each passing day, the nights were getting longer and colder, a sign of how Autumn was upon them, and Maven breathed the cool air into her lungs as she looked up at the sky. Luckily, it was a cloudless night, allowing them to perfectly see the stars and the waxing crescent moon. Inaugurals were always done in this phase: it was believed to strengthen the witch in the path they had ahead of them.

The beach was just as bright as the sky. A path of torches had been made from where the sand began to where Maven awaited for Hilda by the water, wearing her mother’s old ceremonial garments: a deep blue robe, to signify her wisdom and insightfulness as an older witch, and the iconic witch’s hat, synbolizing her connection to the universe.

Even though she had taken all the steps to certify that they would not be seen, Maven still felt tense every time a car drove by them. She didn’t have much time to worry, however, because soon Johanna’s car parked by the sidewalk. Hilda got out first, wearing the white cape that Maven had asked Johanna to have her wear to the ceremony.

She imagined it must have been an interesting conversation. After all, all Hilda knew was that she was going to go through a rite of passage. It was part of tradition for the witch to not know exactly what would happen, and Maven had found the surprise so delightful in her Inaugural that she hadn’t wanted to spoil it for Hilda.

After the torches, which had called her attention immediately because of their brightness, Hilda’s gaze fell on her best friends. Just as Maven had asked of her, Hilda hadn’t told them much other than that she was being trained to be a witch, so she understood her apprentice’s shock at seeing them there. She just hadn’t been able to leave people who mattered so much to Hilda out of the ceremony.

She walked towards the beach, taking everything in with wonder in her eyes. Though Maven thought she would have rathered talked to her friends first, as soon as she saw her mentor standing at the end of the torches in her solemn attire, she headed in her direction. When Hilda locked her gaze on her, they both smiled at each other.

There was no right way to do this, Maven discovered when she did her research in order to be able to be the head of this ceremony. There were no special words that needed to be said. To welcome your apprentice into the community as best as one could was already enough.

“Good evening, Hilda.” She said when the girl was close enough. “Sorry for the suspense, but it’s a part of the Inaugural.”

Hilda looked around her, seeing all her friends watching her with pride in their eyes. She could even swear she saw tears on her mother’s.

“Good evening!” Confused as she was, she couldn’t help but be excited. Not knowing exactly what would happen made her even more so, in fact. “What are we doing today?”

“Today marks the day when you truly become a witch.”

Open jawed, Hilda felt her heart pick up pace. As she watched Maven kneel down to her level, she pictured herself doing all the fantastic things she’d seen the librarian do, using her magic to help people and keep the balance nature.

“Now is when you truly choose the craft. We do not ask you for undying devotion. We do not request that you never change your mind.”

Maven stopped suddenly, and Hilda could see her lower lip tremble for a moment, her gaze turning dark for the quickest second, even though she tried not to let her abrupt turmoil show.

This was a happy occasion. It was not one to remember the one witch who changed her mind. It was not one to remember her sister. She took a deep breath and picked up where she had left off.

“But you’ll never stop being a witch. Your power was already unlocked and can never again be hidden. But now, you set free your soul as well. Should you accept, there will be no hiding your nature or cutting ties with your responsibility. It’s your path and you must walk it with selflessness and wisdom. Is that what you chose?”

Maven was not afraid of a negative answer, and nor was she surprised when Hilda answered with a strong “yes”. But it didn’t stop her from feeling glad and so incredibly proud.

She got up then, and reached for her robe’s long, thin pocket, one that was made under measure for only one type of object, and arguably the most important in a witch’s craft.

Hilda’s wand had come in the mail earlier that month. She’d known what it was instantly, since the package was not only from Oslo, the master wandmaker’s town, but also because the cardboard box was marked with many unobtrusive safety sigils. Inside, protected by another box, was the wand. Maven noticed easily that the wandmaker had taken her requests and made them better.

In the handle, simple yet delicate images of flowers and leaves had been carved into the poplar wood, and there were small pieces of green jasper scattered around the shaft like stars in a sky. At the base of the wand, there were two carved triangles facing the same direction, one of them with a line crossing its tip. They represented water and earth, the two elements that empowered Hilda the most.

It had taken Maven no more than a look to decide that Hilda would love it.

As she pulled the wand out of her pocket, the librarian watched Hilda’s expression closely, happy to see the utter amazement that seemed to wash over her.

“Then this belongs to you now.”

Picking up the wand from Maven’s hand, Hilda ran eyes through it, feeling the texture of the carvings and gemstones. She could not believe her eyes, and even though Raven and Alfur clapped excitedly at her, the only thing she could do was look up at her mentor.

“Thank you so much.” She said with emotion. She was about to take a step forward to hug Maven when the librarian took another wand from her robes. This one Hilda had already seen before many times: it belonged to Maven herself.

“You don’t need to thank me, Hilda. You did everything yourself. But we’re not finished yet.”

The librarian took a step back and pointed to the sand.

“Can you draw a pentacle?”

“Oh.” It was a simple enough request, and Hilda kneeled down to comply. As she used the tip of her wand to draw on the sand, she knew that Maven’s wand was pointed at her, even though she couldn’t see it.

“By water, earth, fire and air.” She said as Hilda drew her five point star. “And by the universe that unites us all, you are now, forever and truly, a witch.”

The last words were said as Hilda finished the circle connecting the points, and as soon as she did a blue light the same colour as her hair arose from the pentacle. They all stared in awe as Maven waved her wand, making the light rise up and form a ball in the air, and then guided it to Hilda’s wand, where the light was absorbed by the wood.

As soon as that magic was inside her wand, Hilda could feel it buzzing with familiar energy: her own. There was a little piece of her inside the wand now. And she sensed there was a piece of the universe inside it as well.

Being the least startled among them, Maven spoke first.

“Congratulations, Hilda. That was a very big step.” She said as the others walked closer to them to congratulate the girl. The first person to get a hug, however, was Maven herself. Hilda all but lept at her as soon as she stopped talking, and surprising even herself, Maven was able to catch her.

Her surprise must have shown on her face as she held the girl, because when Johanna came to them, she giggled as soon as she looked at the librarian. Instead of easing her, however, Johanna added to her shock by joining in on the hug, squeezing Hilda between the two of them.

Soon, all of Hilda’s friends, human or otherwise, had joined in on the hug as well. It was an awkward situation for Maven, but not at all unpleasant. These were all good people, and it was good to know Hilda was surrounded by so much support.

“This calls for a celebration!” Johanna chirped when she drew back. “What do you say we go out for some pizza?”

David and Frida agreed eagerly, and Hilda fist pumped the air when Maven put her down. Only Raven decided to stay out of it, knowing that he probably would not be allowed inside a restaurant. Of course, that didn’t stop him from making Hilda promise she’d save him some for him to eat at her house.

As they all headed to the car, Maven shook her head fondly, telling them that she’d meet them at the restaurant as soon as she put the torches away and changed out of her clothes. She’d attract some very judgemental stares if she walked in dressed like a monk in a pointy hat, after all.

But truly, the main reason she’d stayed behind was to examine Hilda’s pentacle. Even after the energizing of her wand, a weak glow still came from it, and not only was this unusual, but it was very telling too.

With her wand, she guided the salty water to form a stream, moving forward and over the pentacle, and twirled her wand to make the water repeat the movement. When at last it erased the pentacle, in a way that the remaining glow seemed like specks of shining dust in the water, she made the water slide back to the sea. As if diluted by the large body of water, the remains of Hilda’s magic could then no longer be seen.

She’d never heard of that happening before. The wand was supposed to have been able to absorb all of the magic. As far as she knew, there would be no side effects for that, but it did mean something curious.

Hilda was far more powerful than she seemed.

#fic: family fights #my fic #the hilda librarian fanfic #hilda cartoon fanfic #hilda netflix fanfic

[urdbell18]

Those Moments In Between The Problem with Mary’s Hair

AN: So thanks to this virus I’m out of work for the next too weeks and I’m bored out of my mind. So I got this great idea about creating a mini series to my main fic A Seed Hidden in the Heart. This is the first story but f you guys have anything that you want me to write about just message me! I think this might be fun. 

Zelda loved a lot of things about Mary. She loved how Mary could anticipate her needs before she even needed them. She loved how Mary always had an ear to listen with and if anyone needed help she was willing to lend a hand. Most importantly Zelda loved how Mary was with her family, especially her daughter. Mary was the perfect parent, she was strict yet fair, fun but knew when to be serious, reliable without being overwhelming. Mary took to being a guardian to two extremes, a teen and a small child, almost effortlessly and it was just one of the reasons why Zelda loved her.

Mary had only one flaw however and that was her hair.

Now don’t get Zelda wrong, she loved Mary’s hair. Mary’s hair was soft and full of volume, perfect to tangle your fingers in. It’s just the problem is that ‘volume’ translates to ‘a lot’ and Mary had a LOT of hair. A sort of trail seemed to follow Mary wherever she went as several strands of hair would end up on things, mostly soft surfaces like the pillow cases and the back of the sofa. It wasn’t noticeable at first but over time the build up of loose hair started to become more obvious which triggered something inside Zelda. Zelda wouldn’t call herself a neat freak, she was just the type of person who liked things to be a certain way and that way just happened to be organized. So her reactions when she saw the large collection of hair on the pillow or on the headrest in her car were perfectly normal for her. She bought a large collection of lint rollers and that was that.

Or so she thought.

A month after Mary moved in Zelda noticed that her tub wasn’t draining as it normally would. It wasn’t something that she noticed at first until she came into the bathroom to brush her teeth and the tub would still be filled with water from her daughter’s bath. It gave her pause. She checked the plug and it was fully dislodged so it wasn’t that, so what could it be?

Zelda didn’t think about it again because everything seemed to go back to normal, her tub was draining like it should be until, yet again, it wasn’t. She noticed it first when she was taking her morning shower and found herself in ankle deep water. Curious, and luckily she didn’t break her neck getting out of the tub. The problem got steadily worse until she couldn’t stand it anymore and turned to the only person that she knew who could fix it, Ambrose. Ambrose was their resident handyman, he couldn’t fix big problems like when a tree fell and put a whole in their roof but for small problems he was great. He had an answer for her almost straight away when she came to him, his exact words were, “Again? I just cleared it two weeks ago.”

Two weeks ago? That was the first time that Zelda noticed the tub wasn’t draining properly. It was also, when she checked the calendar, the end of the month. That meant on the first Ambrose completed his monthly chore of maintenance on all of the household plumbing, including the tub in Zelda’s room. So the drain was clogging faster than normal and the only reason why that was that Zelda could think of was because of Mary.

All evidence pointed to Mary. Zelda never had this kind of problem before. Not when she shared the room, and thus the bathroom as well, with Hilda. There’s never been a problem with her and Vida. Mary was the only factor that added up. All that hair had to go somewhere and down her drain wasn’t one of them. So she bought a drain trap to catch it all and it was fine until… this

The drain trap needed to come out. It did its job and that was the underlying problem. A clump of hair and other things that Zelda didn’t even want to think about circled the trap. She was NOT going to touch it. She called out to Mary who came into the bathroom a bit confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you to remove that.” Zelda pointed at the drain trap but didn’t look directly at it in fear of being sick. Mary looked over the edge of the tub and grimaced.

“And what exactly is that?”

“That my dear is a week worth of your hair trying to clog up my drains yet again.”

“Last time I checked I’m not the only one with hair. How do you know this is all my doing?”

“Because I never had to deal with this before until you.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean!?” Zelda took a deep breath. This was escalating out of proportion.

“I don’t want to fight with you but we can’t have the drain clogging up every other week. Could you please just clear the drain.”

“Fine.”

A compromise was reached after that. Zelda would set the trap while Mary would clear it as well as picking up any stray hair that she could. And everything worked out just fine.

_____________________

Part 2

There were some advantages to living in Greendale. One of them that Mary cared about the most was the humidity or lack thereof. There was little to no humidity in Greendale and thus her hair wouldn’t get staticy or dry like it did whenever she was sent to camp in Arizona. That was hell on earth.

However, Greendale did come with one disadvantage and that was rain. It rained a LOT in Greendale. Their yearly rainfall rivaled that of Seattle and Forks and they were one of the rainiest towns on the east coast. All that rain led to one thing that Mary was starting to believe was even worse than the humidity. Frizz.

When spring hit Greendale there were two things that Mary could count on, her allergies and frizz. Both things were manageable. She had her allergy medication for outside, she didn’t really need it for inside anymore thanks to Zelda’s neat freak nature. Zelda says she’s not a neat freak but she totally is and Mary loves her for it. She still had some off days, mostly it would be her eyes would be too dried out for her to put in her contacts. The frizz however, she hadn’t quite mastered. She tried everything, and she means everything, to try and tame it with little to no results. After years of dealing with the same thing she just accepted it as something that happened and went with it, unless something happened.

Like getting a hairbrush stuck in her hair.

The thing about her hair was that it was always kind of hard to brush. Unless she used a smoothing conditioner her hair would become coarse and make the act of brushing it twice as hard. So meeting some resistance wasn’t that unheard. None of that didn’t matter when frizz was involved and so it wasn’t completely unheard of if her brush got stuck in her hair but this was completely different. Her brush wasn’t just stuck it was stuck. Any other time she could get her hairbrush out of her hair but, nope. Her tugging was only doing one thing and that was causing her pain. As loath as she might want to admit it she needed help. Luckily the first person she came across was Hilda.

“Hilda.” The plump blonde woman jumped a bit, she probably wasn’t expecting anyone to still be upstairs.

“Oh, good morning Mary. Thought you would be downstairs with the others.”

“I’ve had a bit of a set back that has kept me and I’m in need of your assistance.”

“What’s wrong?” Instead of trying to explain it Mary turned around so that Hilda could get a clear view of the blue backing of her hairbrush. “Oh my! How’d this happen?”

“Would you like me to blame genetics or the weather?” She heard Hilda chuckle behind her and a warm hand landed on her shoulder.

“Brace yourself love, this is going to hurt.” Mary took a deep breath and placed a hand on the railing. Without further hesitation Hilda started to yank. She was right, it hurt!

Nether noticed Vida coming up on the first landing nor her eyes wide in horror until…

“Mommy!”

At the same time downstairs:

Zelda closed her newspaper, only one article interested her today and now that her reading was done she folded the newspaper and placed it next to her empty plate. She checked her watch and her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Mary and her sister should be downstairs by now and yet when she did a head count they were missing. Ambrose was here eating a bowl while stretched out on the bench. Sabrina was putting some final touches on a school assignment. And Vida was next to her downing the last remainders of her milk. Mary’s absence didn’t go unnoticed by her either.

“Where’s Momma?”

“I don’t know, baby why don’t you go upstairs and check up on her.”

“Okay!” With that Vida jumped down from her seat and rounded the corner out of sight. Zelda checked her watch again and sighed. At this rate Mary wouldn’t be able to sit down for breakfast. This wasn’t the first time it has happened so Zelda got up and filled a travel mug with coffee and popped some toast in the toaster. Mary could eat in the car, something that she never allowed, but Mary needed to eat something and her threat of vacuuming her entire car if she saw even a single crumb was enough for Mary to keep things neat.

“Mommy!” Zelda’s blood ran cold and she rushed out of the kitchen to where her daughter's voice was coming from. Behind her she heard Ambrose and Sabrina scrambling to catch up with her.

“Vida what’s wrong!?”

“Aunt Hilda’s hurting Momma!” Zelda opened her mouth to say something else but froze. At the top of the stairs was her sister and her girlfriend. Something was poking out the back of Mary’s head and she had an ironclad grip on the banister. Vida looked at her with big eyes filled with unshed tears. Zelda could only imagine what all of this looked like to a four year old.

“What is going on here?”

“I was just trying to help with…” Hilda’s sentence trailed off and she waved a hand to the back of Mary’s head. Mary just gave a sheepish sort of smile and a light blush crept up on her cheeks.

“Hilda.” Zelda didn’t need to say anything else as she went up one side of the staircase. Hilda went down the other, ushering Sabrina, Ambrose, and Vida to the main floor. Vida looked up at her but Zelda just nodded and gave her a soft smile. She went with Hilda without a whimper. When Zelda reached Mary that blush seemed to have gotten darker and spread higher on Mary’s sharp cheekbones. “Let me see.” Mary turned to show Zelda the hairbrush that was half embedded in her hair. With gentle fingers Zelda observed the damage. “Come with me.” Zelda turned back to her bedroom, Mary followed her. She pointed to her vanity and, after a slight hesitation, Mary sat down. All Mary could see in the mirror was Zelda’s torso and the flexing of her shoulders as her arms moved. Next thing Mary knew the brush that was causing a tugging pain in the back of her head was being held out to her with a smug look on Zelda’s face.

“Frizz?” Mary gave her a side nod and took back the brush. There was a huge clump of hair in the bristles. Mary hates to think about the damage to her hair. “All you had to do was say something.” Mary turned to look at Zelda surprised.

“Really?”

“It’s not as bad as it was when I lived in London but I’d get the occasional flare up now and again. We just need to find the right combination for you but for now...” Zelda went into the bathroom then came out with a tube in her hand. “Try this.” She squeezed some cream into her hand and then ran her fingers through Mary’s hair. It felt good, really good, and Mary gave off a low moan, it almost sounded like a purr. “That’s better wouldn’t you say?” Mary brought a hand to her hair, it felt almost back to normal, it was still a little rough but a whole lot better than it was before.

“Thank you.” Mary got up and gave Zelda a quick peck on her lips. Zelda hummed and kissed Mary back.

“There’s toast and coffee waiting for you downstairs, We need to get going.” Mary looked at the alarm clock and cursed under her breath. She quickly grabbed her shoes and scrambled to keep up with Zelda. Hilda was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, she handed Mary a travel mug and her toast. She and Vida sent them off with a hug and a wave goodbye as she, Zelda and Sabrina went off for another exciting day of Baxter high.

After that Zelda found the perfect combination to contain her frizz. Some cream, a little hairspray and she was good as golden. No more dryness. No more stuck hair brushes or cries for help. 

Thank god.

#Zelda Spellman #Madam Satan #madam spellman

[themadchemist]

So I finally got the courage to post about her. I tried to stay away from the actual game story since I don't remember much about ARR and Heavensward despite playing them and I only watched Stormblood and Shadowbringers. I might play the free trial soon so I can refresh my knowledge of the first 2 expansions but I don't think I can play the others so if I get anything wrong main story and lore wise just let me know.

These are just general stuff and headcanons but it might contain SPOILERS FOR 5.x

Name: Arciela Ausbasch

Age: 27

Nameday: 22nd sun of the second umbral moon

Height: 170cm

Profession: Apothecary and healer

Canon class: WHM/BLM (it's the classic FF sage but there's no sage in FFXIV)

Sub classes: SCH/Alchemist/Botanist/Culinarian

Headcanons: again they're just general stuff and they contain SPOILERS FOR 5.x (I'm on my phone so idk how to put the under a cut)

Arciela/WoL:

She sat out on her adventure because she wanted to explore the world and learn more; to expand her horizontals horizons as a healer and apothecary and if becoming the Warrior of Light and saving the world was the way to do it then she would embrace her new role and duties in order to achieve her goals (she's also reckless and would never say no to an adventure even if there was a chance that she might die in the process)

Self proclaimed culinarian. After everything is over, she dreams of opening her own restaurant and bakery.

Relationship with her allies:

Thancred and Estinien are her closest friends and drinking buddies

Papalymo was like a big brother to her (he reminded her of her own brother) and helped her learn new black magic spells and perfect the ones she already knew.

Urianger and Y'shtola are her "nerd friends" as Thancred dubbed them. She still has trouble understanding certain things that Urianger says.

Ryne and the twins are like little siblings to her and she enjoys spending time with them and teaching them things. She taught Ryne how to make Thancred's favorite foods and desserts and she goes swimming with Alisaie (I can't think of anything she might do with Alphinaud except for being nerds together).

She's very close with Aymeric, especially after the dinner (and a certain culinary adventure that prompted Arciela to work on creating the best honey cake the lord commander will ever taste.)

She became good friends with Cirina after spending an entire day trying new recipehs recipes and making the mol taste test them for her (iirc Cirina liked food, right?)

X'rhun Tia is like a father/cool uncle to her and they're super close. He's also her favorite job/class teacher. She appreciats his patience when he was teaching her red magic. While she didn't struggle in the casting part, she did struggle with the fencing part, especially since it was completely different from the dark knight style that she learned from her father (I'm working on her father and I have this idea that he was once an Ishgardian dark knight but I'll wait until I either play or watch Heavensward to decide if I want to go with it or not)

Other good friends of hers are: Kan-E-Senna (who helped her with her white magic), Haurchefant (who was like a brother to her. His death still haunts her) and the Fortemps in general, G'raha Tia (he's adorable and she has a very hard time containing the urge to touch his ears and tail. She's doing a good job so far), Moren (she spent most of her time in the Crystarium in the library with him), Cid, Hilda and Unukalhai.

Triggers for remembering her past life in Amaurot:

The deaths of Lahabrea, Emet Selch and Elidibus and meeting Hythlodaeus.

Lahabrea's death caused her to vaguely remember her time in Akadaemia Anyder and her work as an alchemist but she dismissed the memories as dreams and didn't think much of it since it was similar to her work as an apothecary. She didn't remember him but she felt that they were connected somehow.

Meeting Hythlodaeus for first time triggered memories of Amaurot in general but she also dismissed them as an effect of being there and talking to him.

The death of Emet Selch caused the first bang of memories for she remembered her time and true relationship with him. The memories and the new knowledge brought about hesitation and uncertainty, doubts and immense guilt.

Meeting Hythlodaeus the second time in 5.3 and collecting "stars" triggered memories of her time as Azem and the final days. His presence somehow made it easier to handle the new memories.

She didn't remember Elidibus prior to fighting him in the Seat of Sacrifice, but she remembered enough to know that they were once connected and thus she found the resolve to kill him and end his suffering, for both his sake and the sake of the world.

It was only when he regained his memories that hers started to come back more clearly to her.

The hope that her friends are now resting in peace, free of Zodiark's tempering was the only thing that kept her from crumbling under the weight of her memories and guilt.

Amaurotian Arciela/Anais/Azem/The Alchemist:

Just general stuff to explain certain things from above:

Before becoming Azem she was a professor in Akadaemia Anyder and an accomplished scholar in the field of pharmacy (potions and herbal medicine; or this is what I think is their equivalent of pharmacy at least).

A friend of Emet Selch, Lahabrea, Hythlodaeus and Elidibus. (I ship her with both Lahabrea and Emet Selch so nothing's official until I decide on one of them or create multiple time lines).

Childhood friends with Lahabrea. They've known each other for so long, attended the academy and became professors together. They're probably the only ones who actually listen to and show interest in each other's rambles (just let them be nerds together)

She's also a self proclaimed culinarian, which made her delve into the field of botany and create certain herbs and trees including cocoa trees which lead to her creating chocolate.

During their days as students, Anais would wake Lahabrea up in the middle of the night or drag him away from whatever he was doing to accompany her to the kitchen so she would try to make the new recipe she came up with. He'd complain the entire time she's cooking but at least she could count on him to give her his honest opinion. After tasting the new recipe, he'd either complain some more, insult her ability to cook and just leave if he doesn't like it or he'd ask for seconds... And thirds...

Her favorite pass time is annoying and pranking Lahabrea and Emet Selch. Sometimes, she would team up with Hythlodaeus and they're an absolute menace together.

Lahabrea's reactions are the best because he never sees anything coming since he's always too engrossed in some book to pay attention to anything else and thus, he's always startled, surprised and falls for all of her pranks. And he's ALWAYS extremely pissed off afterwards and they'll be subjected to one of his famous rants and lectures. Hythlodaeus suffers. Anais has known him long enough to get used to them and thus they have no effect on her (and one would think that he's known her long enough to learn to not let his guard down around her when she's bored). It's always worth it though.

Emet Selch's reactions are the second best, because whether the prank works or not, he'll complain about it because he's dramatic. He gets his revenge by pranking them later.

Much like Arciela, Anais took the chance of becoming Azem and traveling the world to gain more knowledge on her field of studies.

Class: SCH

#this turned out longer than i thought it would #I just hope that I won't regret it later lol #It's all subject to change when I replay the game #And I'll add more later #ffxiv oc #ffxiv wol #amaurotian!wol #arciela ausbasch #anais #oc headcanons #ffxiv #ffxiv spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #let me know what yall think

[frizz22]

Can you do a fic where Zelda gets kidnapped by hunters and Faustus stops at nothing to find her? (I would not be opposed if he brutally killed them)

Thanks for the prompt! Read on ao3

NOTES: 1x09 canon divergence

TRIGGER WARNINGS: told partially from Mr. Kinkle’s shitty ass POV, violence, and an attempted rape scene

Paul Kinkle was no idiot.  

Despite what others thought, despite how the town of Greendale looked down on him for the way he chose to cope with life; alcohol. But one didn’t have to be sober to realize Tommy wasn’t right. The doctor said it was shock. That whatever his boy experienced in the mines when it collapsed traumatized him and that time would heal the mental wounds.  

He knew better.  

There was something deeply, disturbingly wrong with his son. And it had nothing to do with trauma or whatever other mental bullshit the doctor had babbled about. He’d beat that kind of weakness out of his boys young.  

No, it was something else. And Paul had an idea of what that something was.  

His father had visited recently for Thanksgiving and eagerly talked about their family history when Harvey pestered him for a school assignment. Paul rolled his eyes and got another beer as his father talked about being hunters and the purging of witches in Greendale. It was nothing he hadn’t heard a hundred times growing up when his father was drunk and ranting.  

When his father dramatically finished that witches still lived in Greendale today, hiding amongst them, Paul drained the rest of his beer and grabbed another despite Tommy’s halfhearted protest.  

He’d dismissed it all before as nonsense. The ramblings of an old drunk. But now, looking at how his son sat unmoving for hours, not even getting up to eat, drink or take a piss, Paul started to reconsider.  

Started to think of how often Harvey’s little girlfriend was around, how she appeared almost immediately after his boy came back. Started to think harder about that day at the mortuary where they’d prematurely held Tommy’s funeral. How he’d been unable to move his arm, Zelda Spellman a formidable figure in the background with a dangerous aura around her as he fled.  

No, they couldn’t truly be....  

Paul shook his head and headed to the fridge for a drink. He was being ridiculous. His father was a raving lunatic, talking about witches and magic. But as he worked to convince himself of this, Paul caught sight of Harvey hurling a football at Tommy who stood inert across the yard. He was about to burst outside and beat Harvey for treating his brother that way when Tommy’s hand shot up and caught the ball one handed, arm not even bending. The sight had Paul choking on his beer and taking back his former assertion that his father was crazy.  

Whatever was happening to Tommy was unnatural. And Paul intended to find out what the Spellmans had done to his boy. He also intended to stop whatever evil thing they had brought Tommy back to do; why else bring the boy back from the dead? And that’s what he’d been, what everyone claimed.  

Mission in mind, Paul sent Harvey out to pick up Tommy’s favorite fast food, with the excuse that it might prompt Tommy to eat. Once Harvey’s truck was out of sight, Paul picked up the gun and made for his oldest son’s room.  

Tommy didn’t blink when he came in. Didn’t even move when Paul stepped into his line of sight and leveled the gun at his head. That was the last straw; the deciding factor. Tommy would’ve fought, would’ve yelled at him, would’ve asked where Harvey was. This creature, whatever it was, wasn’t his boy.

Exhaling sharply, Paul pulled the trigger and the husk slumped to the floor. Carefully wiping the gun, Paul placed the weapon in what used to be Tommy’s hand, making sure to get a fingerprint on the trigger, then he went back downstairs and called the police to tell them his son committed suicide—unable to live with the horrors he’d experienced in the mines.  

The police didn’t question it, or him, though Paul was thoroughly drunk by the time they and Harvey arrived.  

His youngest was a mess. But Paul paid him no mind. He had other things to deal with. Like the family that had done this to his. Making his way to his room, Paul started calling his brothers, dad and cousins back into town.  

Their sole purpose... to go after the Spellmans.  

~~~~

They’d just sat down at the kitchen table to eat a quiet breakfast; the mood still somber from the events in the mines and the Kinkle boy’s funeral. Sabrina was especially tight lipped about how her mortal boyfriend was coping, but then again, Zelda had never much inquired about Harvey, so Sabrina’s short answer wasn’t too out of place. The tense silence was suddenly interrupted by a cacophony of alarms. Wards Zelda had placed around the property centuries ago to warn them of threats were going off for the first time in ages.  

Hilda’s eyes snapped to meet hers. “Hunters.” Her sister breathed, already standing up and peering out the window.  

Face screwed up in confusion, Ambrose leveraged himself off the bench to join Hilda at the window. “Hunters? How can you—?”

“Because I set very specific wards up,” Zelda cut him off, already moving through the kitchen and securing various drawers with spells so they couldn’t be opened and reveal the magical items inside. “That alarm sequence is specific for hunters. Ambrose, take Sabrina and cast some extra protection spells on the house. Nothing to keep the brutes from entering, that will only fuel their resolve, but enough to keep them from lighting anything on fire and destroying too much.” Her nephew nodded and pulled Sabrina away before the girl could ask any questions.  

Once they were gone, Zelda turned back to Hilda who’d moved away from the window and was locking down her greenhouse. “You have to take them to the academy.” She instructed softly but firmly, glancing over her shoulder to ensure neither of the kids were within hearing range. “No hunters can enter the academy, it’s the safest place.”  

Brow furrowing, Hilda nodded. “I agree it’s the safest. But why are you speaking as though you won’t be joining us?”  

Ignoring the question, Zelda continued. “Tether them to the building to keep them there, you know how reckless and impulsive they can be.”  

“Wonder who they got it from,” Hilda muttered, mouth pursed as Zelda kept going as if she hadn’t spoken.  

“Once you’ve ensured their safety, send Faustus here.”  

Baffled, Hilda blinked. “No, I’m coming back for you—"

Though touched by her sister’s protectiveness, Zelda shook her head. “If something happens, they need you.” Zelda closed the distance between them and clutched Hilda’s hands before her sister could reply. “They need you, Hildie. More than they need me.” She cocked her head as if daring Hilda to contradict her. “You know it’s true.” When Hilda still made to argue she cut her off. “I’m not saying they wouldn’t miss me, but,” she swallowed, “we both know these are the roles we took on long ago. Protector,” she looked down at herself, “care giver.” She looked back at Hilda and squeezed her sister’s hands. “If anything, I know you can play both roles. I’m not sure I can. Now go, we don’t have much time. It’s been several minutes already.”  

Hilda’s lips twisted and Zelda could tell she was forcing an argument down when she nodded, grabbing Sabrina and Ambrose who had just returned to the kitchen and disappeared with them.  

She waited a moment, ensuring Hilda had followed her instructions and wouldn’t teleport back, before making her next move. The hunters were close to the house, the wards allowing her to sense their proximity. Exhaling deliberately, Zelda exited through the backdoor, making sure the hunters saw her ‘fleeing’ into the woods.  

It was almost too easy to lure them there. And while it may not be the best place to take a stand, Zelda saw no need to destroy the house in the process of dealing with them.  

Only… she’d underestimated them.  

There were more of them than she thought, and they ambushed her once she’d gone about twenty feet into the woods; something cracking against the back of her head. Her vision swayed and darkened as she fell to her knees; stunned. The object struck her again and everything went black.  

~~~~~~

The world came back into focus slowly, painfully.  

Head throbbing and mouth dry, Zelda woke to find herself gagged and hands bound together above her. It was then she realized she was hanging against the trunk of a tree. Just high enough that her feet, which are also tied together, were a few inches off the ground. Blinking away some of the fuzziness in her vision, Zelda glanced up to see she was dangling from some kind of hook that must be used for hoisting up kills to keep other animals away while the mortals keep hunting.  

Apparently, it was good for more than one kind of prey.  

Scoffing to herself, Zelda started to work on her bindings; these hunters were about to find out that Zelda was the predator here, not them.  

Turning her still slightly muddled attention to the men a few yards from her, Zelda noted the hunters were arguing. Why they didn’t just kill her, she didn’t know. Perhaps they had questions, hoped she’d reveal the coven. Just as she was steeling herself for interrogation, one of the men shifted to the side and she blinked.  

Mr. Kinkle? She narrowed her eyes and really focused despite the pain radiating through her head, yes, yes it was the Kinkle man. She recognized him from the funeral, where he and Harvey had knocked the empty casket over.... From when she’d used magic to stop him from hurting his son.  

Satan this was her doing. She’d brought this down upon her family with her recklessness. Zelda didn’t regret what she’d done, protecting Harvey, and it was only fitting she was the one to pay the price; she’d been the one to expose herself to mortals. But didn’t mean she wasn’t furious at herself for the situation.  

It also didn’t explain why she was alive. Maybe it was something as simple as the fact that Paul Kinkle knew her. They’d passed one another at numerous school functions, at the grocery store. She wasn’t just some nameless, faceless witch, she was Zelda Spellman, her niece was dating his son.  

Well, whatever the reason, this hesitancy would be his, and the others, final mistake

Shifting a bit to try and relieve the pressure on her wrists, Zelda attempted to cast a silent curse. One that would have the group clawing at invisible, and nonexistent, bugs under their skin.  

Nothing.

Well, nothing beyond her hands tingling painfully at the movement. Apparently, she’d been hanging there long enough to lose just enough feeling in her fingers to prevent spell casting. The gag didn’t help either. Though Zelda had been capable of nonverbal spells for decades now, the inability to use her hands and the head injuries were making it incredibly difficult to use magic.  

It was then they noticed she’d woken up.  

The hunters immediately fell silent and gaped at her stupidly, clearly still unsure what to do with her. Zelda just glared at them menacingly, trying to subtle yank at the rope binding her hands— perhaps she could wear away at the rope or catch it on the pointed part of the hook and rip herself free.  

Mr. Kinkle finally approached her, features contorted with rage and grief. “What did you do to Tommy?” He demanded, face inches from hers and spittle flying from his lips. The confusion must have shown on her face because he slapped her, hard. “Don’t play dumb you bitch. What did you do to my son?!”

Schooling her expression into something blank and disinterested, Zelda let her gaze slide from him to the trees around him. While she had no idea where this line of questioning was coming from, Zelda wasn’t going to dissuade him from it. The longer she could keep him on this topic and off anything she might have actual information about the better.  

Better was a relative term.  

Her refusal to even talk through the gag, to beg, to offer up explanations, to demand why they’d taken her, infuriated Kinkle. And he took out his fury on her.  

At least he varied where he landed the blows; razor thin silver linings, but silver linings, nonetheless. The rotating impacts gave her some minor reprieve and recovery time. Stalking away, breathing heavily, Kinkle speared his hands through his hair.  

“Paul, are, are you sure?” One of the other men, Anthony, asked, as they huddled around Kinkle. Anthony glanced at Zelda and looked away just as quickly. He was the weak link, didn’t have the stomach for what was happening—especially seeing as how Zelda appeared to have no information. Appeared to be a normal woman.

And really, it was easy enough to rile one another up about witchcraft and other such things in the moment, using his dead son as a rallying cry... but once you had a defenseless woman tied to a tree and were beating her? That changed things.  

The doubt was catching, the others sharing dubious looks behind Paul’s back as well.  

Kinkle refused to be deterred, though, and spun to deliver another brutal blow to her ribs. “This one is certainly a witch.” He spat, eyeing her with such hate Zelda started to doubt this was only about her restraining him at the funeral. “You heard what dad said. And I know what she did to me at Tommy’s funeral.” He backhanded her again, her cheek splitting open. “Can’t stop me now, can you?”

She sneered at him the best she could around the gag. The action only antagonized him further.  

“What—“, he hit her, “did—“, another blow, “you do to Tommy?!” He bellowed, delivering a blow with each word?  

Doing her best to look unaffected by the abuse, Zelda rolled her eyes. The response made easier by the fact that she still had no idea what the man was raving about. Anger finally getting the best of him, Kinkle removed the gag. “Tommy. What did you do to my boy? He wasn’t the same after the mines.”

After the mines?  

What? The boy was dead. This entire time she’d been under the impression Kinkle somehow suspected her in the collapse of the mines because of what she’d done at the funeral. But this?  

Casually stretching her mouth for a moment before wetting her chapped lips, Zelda sneered at the man in front of her. “Maybe you should ask yourself what you did to him. I’m sure there were beatings I wasn’t around to stop. Besides, you’re the one who put him in the mines. Whatever trauma he experienced down there is your fault.” She snapped, trying to pretend she knew what was happening and not that the last she’d heard of Tommy was that his dead body was lost among the rubble.  

Another blow brought her back to the present; a punch to the stomach. The air knocked from her, Zelda wheezed first a moment before spitting at Kinkle; a mix of saliva and blood. “That the best you can do hunter? Or are you so primitive you lost even the knowledge necessary to—"

Suddenly he pulled out a knife and held it to her throat. “Tommy came back. But he wasn’t whole. Like some kind of zombie. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t speak, barely reacted to anything! The doctor said it was shock. But I know better. What did you do?”

Zelda’s eyes widened involuntarily in recognition of the signs. Sabrina, what did you do? She thought, eyes flicking between the group gathered in front of her. No wonder they were here, if they’d interacted with a poorly resurrected corpse believing in witchcraft wouldn’t seem farfetched.  

Her reaction didn’t go unnoticed. Kinkle pressed the knife against her neck harder, cutting into the skin. “What did you do?” He repeated through gritted teeth.  

Scoffing, Zelda shifted, her arms aching from the strain. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The doctor explained it, it’s shock. Or are you just too dumb to understand.” Zelda mocked, brow arching even as the knife dug into her neck further.  

Anthony shook his head. “Maybe, maybe we should go back to the house? See if we can find the someone else, either she gives us information, or it’ll motivate her to talk.” He nervously wiped his hands on his jeans. Despite his suggestion, it was easy for Zelda to see that Anthony didn’t want another hostage, he wanted the chance to run. The others, not catching on to the same clues she had, merely murmured in assent.  

But she couldn’t let them go back to the house; regardless of Anthony’s intentions the others would truly follow through. Right now, all they had was speculation. And while her family tried to proof the house in the little time they’d had after the alarms, Zelda knew they hadn’t hidden or protected everything. Anything more than a cursory search would reveal all kinds of questionable items that would to support their theory of the Spellmans being witches.  

That, and well, Zelda wasn’t sure how well Hilda had actually listened to her. It was entirely possible that, after depositing the kids at the school, her sister came back. And Zelda couldn’t risk the hunters stumbling across Hilda and hurting her as well.  

Knowing what the consequences would be, Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and muttered a spell under her breath. And even though she couldn’t really feel or move her hands, now that she could speak Zelda managed a weak spell which caused the biggest man to run straight into a nearby tree; knocking himself out cold.  

It wasn’t exactly an overt reveal, the man could’ve simply decided to run into the tree all by himself, but it was evidence enough for the other hunters. After checking on their friend, the men abandoned their idea of going back to the house and huddled closer to her, intrigued.  

Kinkle howled in triumph and clamped a hand over her mouth hard enough to bruise. “I told you boys; this bitch is a witch.”

“Maybe,” another man, Mason if she’d heard correctly earlier, grinned and ran his hand up the outside of her thigh. “Maybe we need a different kind of interrogation technique.” He smirked and tugged at the hem of her dress. Anthony paled and backed away, he alone of the group of men balking at the idea.  

Giving her a feral grin, Kinkle sized her up. “I’ve always wondered what you’ve got under these prudish dresses.” He lowered the knife from her throat and brought his other hand down to hold her dress in place as he sawed at the seam where it started by her knee.  

While Zelda tried to be subtle before, she saw no reason to do so anymore. Subtle wouldn’t win her any favors now and could potentially cause her more harm than good. Another spell flew from her mouth and Mason collapsed to the ground, twitching, with reddish foam bubbling at his lips.  

They rushed to gag her again before she could target anyone else. At least she’d gotten rid of another one; the worst one, or at least she assumed he was the worst—he’d been the one to suggest ‘alternative’ methods.  

If only she had full use of her hands and Latin spells weren’t so long... she might have managed a bit more.  

Anthony backed away further, hands held up. “She’s going to curse us all. We shouldn’t even be touching her.” The others froze, eyes drifting to where Mason lay, unmoving and where their larger friend was unconscious, but alive, a few yards away.  

Undeterred, Kinkle started ripping at the seam of her dress, splitting it and moving higher and higher. “We’ve got her gagged again and her hands tied. If she could do anything, she would’ve done it by now. We were just careless with the gag. Won’t happen again.” He gave her calf a squeeze and laughed. “We get to have fun now.”  

Her dress was completely ripped open and ruined now, and the men stood and gaped at her a moment; stunned by her lingerie. She’d never been one for casual underwear and unfortunately today had been no exception when she’d gotten dressed.  

“Shit.” Kinkle muttered, his eyes tracing along her body as one of his relatives adjusted his pants and licked his lips in the background. “I knew you were hiding something good, but Jesus.” His hand came up and squeezed her hip, lingering.  

And suddenly the rest of the groups’ fear was gone. They surged forward to unhook her from the tree.

The moment she was free from the hook, Zelda thrashed against the hands trying to catch her. The fight was fruitless, her arms might as well have been limp noodles for how much strength she had left in them and her feet were still bound.

Bodily dragging her towards a clear patch of grass, the men murmured excitedly. Looming over her, Kinkle undid his belt. “I’m first, it’s my boy she hurt, so I get to hurt her back. Hold her.” He instructed, bending down to cut the rope on her ankles.

The others complied, one man pressing her bound hands into the ground while two others grasped her calves with bruising hands to restrain her now free legs.  

Zelda kept her expression steely; even if her body trembled with adrenaline and rage. She just needed to cast one more spell. Just one. Inhaling through her nose, she managed to twitch her fingers just right despite their lack of feeling and got off what she needed.  

A confounding spell.  

The men paused and blinked at one another, then the spell sunk in completely. A fight broke out, the hunters arguing over why they were there, who should go first, then who’d go after. Two of the men started to brawl; though the ones holding her down merely shouted at each other and didn’t release her.  

The spell was weak, her inability to use her hands to make the proper gestures would mean the confusion would wear off sooner than she’d like. But she didn’t need much time. By now Faustus should be close, Hilda having told him what was happening. Closing her eyes, Zelda prayed to Satan, to Lilith, to whoever might be listening that she bought herself enough time.  

~~~

Hilda couldn’t find him, not at first.  

She’d quickly tethered the kids to the school before running through the place. In the end, Blackwood found her. His head poking out of a closed door, a little further ahead, having heard her shouts.  

“Sister Hilda?” His brow furrowed, the expression was quickly replaced with exasperation. “Your excommunication forbids you—" he began in a bored, tired tone.  

“Hunters!” She gasped, coming to a stop in front of him and clutching at his forearms.  

Blackwood blinked. “What?”

“Hunters. At the mortuary. I took the kids and ran to protect them, but Zelda’s still there! She said she’d be fine. That she’d come here as soon as she dealt with them, but I have a bad feel—"

Before she could finish, Blackwood dumped his ornate robe onto the ground and teleported away.  

~~~~~

Faustus appeared on the front porch, a few feet to the side of the door; which was still closed. And though he wanted to sprint forward, Faustus forced himself to take it slow, knowing he’d be useless to Zelda if he was sloppy.  

Carefully, Faustus poked his head inside; nothing. The house was empty, a quick spell revealed that the only living things inside were spiders and a few mice in the attic. Striding into the kitchen, Faustus snatched a cigarette butt from an ash tray on the table and cast a tracking spell; Zelda’s footprints lit up along the floor. They were everywhere; the entire floor glowing with her presence. Growling at his ineptitude, Faustus adjusted the spell to erase any prints not left within the past fifteen minutes. Only one set remained, they moved through the house, prepping it for an altercation that never seemed to happen, then finally out the back door.  

Nodding to himself, Faustus took one final glance around the room to ensure he didn’t miss anything, and his eyes landed on Vinegar Tom, perched in his basket in the corner of the kitchen. Wishing the familiar was alive to still help his mistress, Faustus ran from the house, tracking Zelda’s footprints as they disappeared into the woods.  

The path was clear for a while and Faustus started to think it was possible Zelda led the hunters astray before teleporting away.  

Until, until he found a disturbing scene. Zelda’s glowing footprints suddenly stopped. And not because she’d teleported away.

True panic settled in. Zelda wouldn’t have gone without a fight. But from the looks of it, the hunters had gotten a jump on her, not even giving her a chance to defend herself, her family and her home.  

Sprinting forward, Faustus followed the deep grooves carved into the soft soil from Zelda’s heels.  

He heard them before he saw them, though how they didn’t hear him as well—considering he’d been thundering through the underbrush—was an unholy miracle.  

When Faustus crept around a tree, he realized why they hadn’t heard his approach; they were too busy fighting with each other. It was only when one of them pushed the other that he caught a glimpse of a battered Zelda on the ground; dried blood in her hair, covered in bruises and her dress ripped open.  

Something dark and raw erupted within him. Without another thought, Faustus crossed the distance between them, spells flying.  

One strung a man up by his feet, his abdomen sliced open to spill out his bodily contents on the forest floor. Another spell snapped thick branches off a tree and pinned another man to the ground, the pieces of wood passing through the man’s shoulders and gut. A third spell ripped a man’s limbs off, another woke the man back up so that he’d have to feel ever second of his slow death. One ran for it, a spell had roots catching his feet and pulling him underground still struggling. The last two were still fight with each other, whatever Zelda had done keeping them distracted. Faustus snapped their necks with the wave of his hand, his eyes on the last man standing.  

He’d saved the ringleader for last; the one who’d already had his belt undone.  

Eyes wild and splattered with gore, Faustus gripped the man by his throat and lifted him up, nails digging into the man’s skin as he struggled in vain, choking. He barely restrained the urge to slaughter the mortal. But that would be too kind. Sneering, Faustus tightened his grip before letting the man fall, another spell hogtied him before he even hit the ground. “I’m going to take my time with you.” Faustus promised, kicking the man brutally in the ribs before turning to Zelda.  

She’d scrambled to the edge of the clearing when he’d burst in, removing herself from the fray. Now that the fight was over, she slumped against the tree behind her, hands ineffectively pulling at the gag in her mouth; hands likely too numb to properly grip the material.  

Faustus hurried over and knelt beside her.  

“Zels,” he breathed, hastily, but carefully, removing the gag, letting the fabric hang around her neck. “Are you okay?” He asked, freeing her hands and wincing when she whimpered at the sudden flow of blood into the appendages. He massaged her hands and wrists gently to try and ease the pain. “Did, did they—" he looked at her ruined dress and he couldn’t force himself to say it.  

“No.” Her voice was hard, but he knew it was the truth from the dark gleam in her eyes as she looked at the ringleader. “I managed a few spells to distract them. I knew you were coming.” She turned her attention to him and gave him a small smile. Relief flooded through Faustus and he exhaled loudly, resting his forehead against hers before pulling back to massage her ankles where the ropes had cut into her skin as well, trying to restore blood flow.  

“I,” he hesitated, hand coming up to hover uncertainly over her rib cage which was inflamed and discolored from countless bruises. “I can try and heal these myself. It would work, but it’d take longer, might be painful for you. Or I can take you to the infernal infirmary—"

Zelda’s hand latched onto his wrist tightly. “No.” She stated firmly, her nails biting into his skin unconsciously. “Not the infirmary. I don’t,” she looked away from him and gritted her teeth. “Not the infirmary. Take me home.”  

Comprehension dawned on him, she didn’t want to be seen like this, couldn’t let anyone know she’d been overpowered, even temporarily. The heralded Zelda Spellman refused to appear weak in front of anyone, including the academy’s healers. Nodding, Faustus carefully fixed her dress, making sure it a bit looser than before so it wouldn’t chafe her injuries, before gathering her in his arms and teleporting to the Spellman house.  

They appeared in Zelda’s bedroom, Faustus immediately carried her over to the bed and gently placed her on top of the covers. “I’ll be back,” he informed her, already turning to leave.  

She caught his wrist once more. “Don’t go.”

Smiling softly at her, Faustus bent and kissed her forehead, mindful of her injuries. “I’m going to get your sister. Though there is much I don’t approve of her behavior, she is an excellent healer. She’ll have you better in no time.” He turned to leave again but Zelda didn’t release him.  

“Just,” she sighed, “I’m fine. Really.” She added at the skeptical lift of his brow. “Well, physically I could be better. But if anything, I’m embarrassed.” She admitted, cheeks flaming with anger and shame at how easily she’d been overcome. “Mortal hunters, inept ones at that, getting the best of me.” She scowled and winced slightly at the painful tug of her cheek. “I don’t want you to leave because I can’t have the rest of the coven hearing about my incompetence. And, well,” she heaved a breath and shook her head. “I haven’t figured out how to explain to Sabrina that her boyfriend’s family is dead.”

A snarl tugged Faustus’ lips. “They deserved it. Far worse than I gave them. I made it too fast.” He growled, thinking back on the scene they’d left behind, limbs, organs and blood strewn across the clearing. “I’ll have to go back and clean that up. Can’t have a mortal stumbling into the area and finding a crime scene.” He remarked absently, sitting next to her on the bed and tenderly rubbing one the deep, raw marks the rope left on her wrists. The injury faded slightly at his efforts and he huffed in annoyance, clearly, he’d been trying to heal it completely.  

“Make sure you save as much as you can.” She reminded him, smiling a bit at his incompetence in healing. “It’s not often we get access to such a fresh supply of body parts. I can think of several uses for their tongues alone.”  

Faustus chuckled and looked at her, bringing his free hand up to brush her hair back, and tuck it behind her ear before tentatively healing the dark bruise and cut on her cheek. This time successful in his attempt. “You’re really alright? After what they almost—"

“Almost.” She cut in, squeezing his hand in emphasis. “They almost. But they didn’t because I was minimally competent, and you came to my rescue.” Zelda batted her eyes at him teasingly and Faustus shook his head.  

Climbing completely onto the bed and resting his back against the headboard, Faustus shook his head. “I suppose it wasn’t the first time you’ve experienced a beating.” He noted.  

She snorted and then brought up a hand to her ribs in regret. “Hardly. My harrowing was worse by far than what those ingrates managed.”  

Peering at her from the corner of his eye, Faustus wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Tell me what happened?”  

Zelda sighed in exaggerated exasperation and slid into his lap, much to his surprise, though he didn’t hesitate to hold her. She explained how they’d been alerted to the hunters’ presence, how she’d thought she was luring then into the forest only to fall into a trap herself. How they’d tried to question her. She told it all in a level, matter of fact tone, and Faustus wasn’t sure if she was downplaying for his sake, if she truly was unruffled by the whole ordeal or if she just hadn’t processed it fully yet.  

Whichever the case, Faustus knew Zelda would deal with what happened in her own way and would come to him for help or advice only if she wanted to. So, he didn’t press the issue... much.  

“You revealed yourself to them.” He murmured, wanting to clutch her tighter but settling for dropping a kiss into her hair—one thing he could do without hurting her.  

Humming in agreement, Zelda pressed her forehead against the side of his neck. “It was the only way to keep them from going after my family.”  

Faustus pulled back slightly so he could see her face. “Your family was already safe at the academy. Why not let some of the hunters to go back to the house? Why—"

“Because despite my absolute trust in Hilda and her abilities to get the kids to safety, I didn’t trust my sister to simply allow me to face something on my own, especially when it was dangerous. I thought she might return to the house, regardless my instructions. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, risk her safety.”  

Arching a brow, Faustus smirked. “Oh, but you could risk my safety?” He intoned, picking some leaves from her hair and not at all upset. While he’d have preferred Zelda not been in the predicament to begin with, he was glad he was the one she’d sent for. There were few Faustus would have trusted to have dealt with the matter and kept Zelda safe.

She laughed softly, just like he’d hoped, and shook her head. “You’re not quite as important to me.” She remarked airily, moving off his lap, his fingers sliding through her hair with a quiet protest, and getting off the bed despite his much louder protest.  

Turning partially, Zelda lifted a brow at him. “I need to contact Hilda, I’m sure she’s in a state waiting to hear what happened. It’s an unholy miracle she hasn’t teleport—"

Suddenly Hilda appeared in front of them, stumbling a little on her landing. “Praise Satan,” she gasped, seeing Zelda upright and whole. And before anyone could deter her, Hilda launched herself at her sister, hugging her hard.  

A yelp of pain escaped Zelda and she backed away from Hilda quickly, arms wrapped around her middle as if to contain the pain. It was then Hilda took in Zelda’s appearance; covered in dirt, hair still a mess even with Faustus’ efforts, her dress looser than usual and deep, angry red grooves encircling her wrists and ankles.  

Mouth working soundless for a moment, Hilda hurriedly guided Zelda back to the bed to sit. “Stay.” She ordered, and then took off out the door and down the stairs; likely to retrieve her medical kit.  

Exhaling loudly, Zelda stayed put, not wanting to hear Hilda’s lecture if she moved. Faustus harrumphed, shifting so he was immediately behind her and he began to pick debris from her hair once more.  

“Why do you listen to her but not me?” He grumbled, his fingers careful not to probe the spots caked with dried blood where she’d initially been struck in the blitz attack.  

Peering at him from the corner of her eye, Zelda huffed. “Because she’s my sister and I have to live with her and listen to her nagging me if I don’t.”

He muttered something she didn’t catch but she could have sworn she felt him press a feather light kiss onto her shoulder. Before she could turn to face him, though, confront him, Hilda came back, arms laden with supplies.  

To her dismay, Faustus got off the bed then and straightened his clothes. “I’ll be off then.” He said formally, turning to leave.  

Unable to stop herself, Zelda called after him. “Faustus, I—" He stopped and turned to look at her expectantly. Suddenly unsure, Zelda swallowed back the words asking him to stay. “Thank you.”  

Inclining his head, Faustus have her a brief smile. “Of course. I will tend to the mess in the forest and then release your niece and nephew from the tethering spell when I return to the academy. Will that be enough time for you to work?” He turned his attention to Hilda, and Zelda appreciated that he understood she didn’t want the kids to see her like this and was ensuring Hilda would be done by the time they returned. When Hilda confirmed it would be enough time, Faustus nodded once more and disappeared on the spot.  

~~~~  

Hours later, after Hilda fussed and lectured and teared up as she healed Zelda’s injuries. After the kids came back and bombarded her with questions and Zelda told Sabrina it’d been the Kinkle’s; she was finally alone in her room.  

It wasn’t that she needed the rest, though she hadn’t fought Hilda when her sister suggested she lay down for a bit; Hilda had healed her with relative ease, not even a scrape was left to show she’d been beaten. No, she wasn’t off alone because she needed time to recover, or to cope with what had happened. If Zelda were honest with herself, she was sulking. Irritated by how easily she’d lost control of the situation.  

It wasn’t even what had happened to her, so much as how it happened that had Zelda stewing.

It was that a group of unbloodied hunters had gotten the best of her. Because she’d been arrogant, reckless; things she’d scolded Sabrina for being recently. And the revealed hypocrisy burned her a bit.  

Pacing the room, Zelda’s thoughts were interrupted by a pinging from the mirror. Brow furrowing, Zelda sat at her vanity just as Faustus’ face appeared in her mirror.  

“I have something you might enjoy playing with.” He remarked.  

And while Zelda normally would have taken it for an innuendo, the cruel curl of Faustus’ lips told her it was something else entirely this time. Cocking her head, Zelda lifted a brow. “And what would that be?”  

Something vicious gleamed in Faustus’ eyes and he smirked. “Come to the dungeons at the academy and see for yourself.” And before she could reply his image winked out of sight, leaving just her reflection.  

With a mental shrug, Zelda put her shoes on and teleported to the academy; making her way to the dungeons without preamble.  

Faustus was waiting for her; leaning against a wall and wiping his hands on a towel. He was still in his dress pants but had stripped down to the white tank he normally wore under his dress shirts.  

Or, the tank had been white; the material was currently splattered with grime and blood and it was then Zelda noticed it was blood he was wiping off his hands.  

Intrigued, and mildly aroused, Zelda closed the distance between them. Sighing in feigned boredom, Zelda propped one hand on her hip and gestured with the other. “So, where’s this plaything? It had better be worth it if I came all the way here.”  

A smile tugged Faustus’ mouth and he shook his head minutely. “As if the academy is so far out of your way.” He intoned, setting the towel aside even though blood still stained his hands. “In any case, I think you’ll find this trip was... worthwhile.” He flicked his wrist and the door next to him creaked open.  

Lifting her brows at the warlock one last time, Zelda moved past him to peer through the door. A wicked smile lit upon her lips as she took in the sight before her. “Faustus,” she breathed, walking into the room. “You shouldn’t have.”  

The warlock slipped in behind her, the door swinging shut of its own accord. “Oh, but Zels, I do love to spoil you.” He growled, his hands gripping her hips and his lips latching onto her neck. “I was a bit selfish, though,” he admitted, resting his chin on her shoulder as his arms wound around her middle more fully. “I couldn’t help but get started without you.”  

Huffing in amusement, Zelda snaked her hand up to his hair and tugged it slightly. “I think I can forgive you, just this once...” She murmured turning her head to kiss him hotly before breaking out of his hold completely. “As long as I get to finish.”  

A sinful smile spread on Faustus’ face. “Of course.” He gave her a half mocking bow and indicated for her to go ahead as he took a seat to watch.  

Flexing her fingers, Zelda stepped forward and removed the gag from the man’s mouth. “Hello, Mr. Kinkle,” she speared her fingers through his hair, gripping hard and yanking his head back so he was looking at her; tears streamed down his face, cutting through the dirt and blood smeared on his person. “I always wondered what you had under that miner’s uniform,” she mocked, arching an unimpressed brow at the briefs Faustus had let the man keep.  

Kinkle whimpered and tried to wrench away from her.  

“Oh,” Zelda pouted, “don’t be like that.” She released his hair and turned to a tray of instruments sitting on a nearby table and selected a curved knife. “We get to have fun now.” She repeated his words from before, delighting in how his eyes widened in horror as she approached him, knife in one hand and magic crackling in the other.

#caos #trigger warnings #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Zelda Spellman #faustus blackwood #zelda x faustus #spellwood #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #Mr. Kinkle #harvey kinkle #tommy kinkle #OCs #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic #netflix

[autumnslance]

Lmao I got three I'm particularly curious about for you on the character meme. Thancred, Lahabrea, Igeyorhm. XD Feel free to do as many or as few as you'd like of course!

You asked for it. We’ll start with That Damned Rogue. The Ascians will be below.

This of course got long, so behind a cut it goes:

Thancred

First impression: I started in Gridania and took like 2 years to finish ARR 2.0, was already spoiled on the possession angle (I spoiled myself, no big), and had just @erickgage‘s affectionate joking summary of Thancred being the guy who shows up 5 minutes late with Starbucks to all the early battles. So I didn’t really get to meet the guy ‘til the Waking Sands.

And honestly, he was stereotypical generic bland anime prettyboy competent guy. His 1.0/ARR model is…just sorta there. He was a flirt, also generic as heck. Really didn’t register too much, until I finished 2.0 finally and then went hard on the MSQ through the patches and into HW and StB 4.0, when I finally caught up to content.

Impression now: Godsdammit.

My first replay through the game was on PunchyCat, starting in Ul’dah, which meant I got to meet Thancred much earlier. I was immediately amused by his nickname for Nanamo, and Papashan’s assessment of the witty Archon. I was more into the lore, getting the first lorebook and reading the short stories on the main site, and playing through all at once instead of piecemeal over months/years made things make more sense. Thancred hits a lot of tropes I commonly like in a lot of characters, so he jumped up to being a favorite.

Gunbreaker suits him as a tank job (thank goodness he can stop trying to tank warmachina as a rogue, ffs Thancred), and tanking in general suits him when it comes to fighting for those he cares about.

I’m interested in the ShB story mentioning why he wears white in all his gear iterations; I’d previously made a post about his color choices and that aspect of character design, but having a lore explanation for his affinity for that color was interesting. I didn’t think his HW model suited him, honestly; way too rough mountain man hobo. His model in ShB is closer to his ARR model, but different enough, and imbued now with actual character, that he’s a bit more visually interesting and while still pretty typical handsome anime protagonist in appearance; his true personality just comes through a lot more.

I’m still forever mad about the unintentional character ‘ship with Aeryn, tho. It took a 3rd playthrough for it to happen.

For myself, mind, when I got into playing and learned his canonical age, it was at the time the same difference between myself and my younger brother. My assessment of the Scion “family” with Thancred being the middle child (esp his behavior pre-HW) maybe helps that. I’m getting to a point, really, where I look at the characters under 35 and think “OMG disaster children, all of you.”

Favorite moment: Oh goodness. There’s some good ones.

‘How was I supposed to know all my girlfriends would track me down and show up at HQ all at the same time: a master class in how to not to deal with multiple paramours by Archon T. Waters.’

His dramatic reappearance and duel with Ardbert in HW 3.1.

Taking out his frustrations by soloing the Coerthas cyclops boss so we can get on with the Tournament and fight Raubahn. (Side Bonus: pre-tournament when he jokes about fighting for the other team to even up the odds, and then: “It looks to be a veritable who’s who of the Eorzean Alliance. The only question is: who came to watch and who came to fight? Hmm…Nanamo. Definitely Nanamo.”)

Making sure Urianger knew he was still part of the team post-Soul Surrender climax.

“All right, which one of you triggered the obvious trap?” Also learning he can hold his breath for 10 freaking minutes–but still gets to be jealous of the WoL, Lyse, and Alisaie for their kojin blessing.

That dramatic teamwork with Urianger to knock Ran’jit down the pit in Rak’tika.

That frickin’ Trolley duty and it’s aftermath with the completed checklist of anime death markers and then just sitting there battered and bleeding and smiling and then giving Ryne a name and a headpat and “You’re family.” Bastard.

Idea for a story: Have you seen my Ao3 account? *grumbles*

Unpopular opinion: While he likely used drinking as a bad coping mechanism at times in ARR’s patches, I doubt he ever really went to blackout, as losing control to that extent, after having been controlled and probably losing a lot of time while possessed, would be awful. We see him drink a few times, but I don’t think he is/was an alcoholic.

I also agree with @ahlis-xiv that his flirtatious persona was mostly adopted. While he probably does have a healthy libido and enjoys time with paramours (that Urianger keeps a handy list of), there’s a lot that’s likely exaggerated, allowed to be assumed, and otherwise used as a cover, given his specializations. It’s also noteworthy how he’s mostly acting the same even after being lost in the wilderness, right up until our foray into the Antitower. The wit/humor gets toned down a lot, but the flirting is cut out entirely after that. He still charms some ladies in the First, based on incidental dialogue, but that seems a general reaction to him being a handsome hero type rather than any intentional flirtatious act on his part.

Favorite relationship: Thancred and little sister types. I do wish we’d seen more of his relationship with Minfilia outside of informed moments and the short stories. I feel like he has a semi-older-brother relationship with Lyse, too, given their antics in the 2.0 patches (particularly the “Hoary’s fighting the WoL, come watch!” and Thancred not even considering how one of his girlfriends would see him sending Lyse to retrieve an item until after and going “oh yeah, whoops”). And now there’s Ryne, and she is totally running things if you watch their background conversations/body language. But that’s kind of where Thancred likes it; find a girl who needs a protective older brother and do what she asks and whatever she needs.

I do have a special place in my heart for the expanded broship with Urianger that Shadowbringers gave us, though. I’ve already spoken on that one.

Favorite headcanon: Everything people assume about how he spoils the nutkin. And really, focusing on taking care of and doting on a pet would be good therapy. Goodness knows he needs it.

Also I assume he and Hilda hooked up at least once during the HW patches. Part of that expectation and cover, sure, to immediately flirt with the pretty, tough, half-elezen guard captain. But also, he spent however long mostly alone, and then only with the Vath and a nutkin for company; the guy was probably touch-starved and lonely and just needing a connection to another person he could relate to (that wasn’t a bug).

Otherwise, again, have you seen my Ao3? Ugh. Damned snarky smart rogues…

————

Lahabrea

First impression: Laughing Organization XIII-wannabe is obvious villain. Wonder what their deal is.

Impression now: So much lost/wasted potential thanks to being stuck as the ARR villain when it was so hastily rewritten and acted, and so little was decided on the Ascians and their motivations yet. A lot of what we learn now retroactively makes him more interesting. The fact he was a workaholic who looked at the workaholic Scion and went “ah yes; that one will do, perfect” makes me laugh.

Favorite moment: I like his interactions with Elidibus. And I am actually fairly fond of his theatrical reveal in Praetorium about the Ultima Weapon, the Heart of Sabik, and casting Ultima.

Idea for a story: Maybe stuff while he’s possessing Thancred. Maybe stuff between then and the Reactor. I dunno; I’ve been enjoying a lot of others’ stories about our first Ascian antagonist.

Unpopular opinion: Dunno if this is unpopular, but some of the retroactive information is to excuse why he seemed so much less powerful than other, later Ascians, but I do think the Speaker could be quite devious and powerful, if he had better writing around him. He suffers for being from ARR.

Favorite relationship: I am not ashamed to admit I am a Lahabrea/Igeyorhm shipper and Hades Ex seems to agree with me so there.

Favorite headcanon: The Speaker likely also had a good singing voice. Another thing good about possessing a man whose primary cover was a bard–excuses to indulge that.

————

Igeyorhm

First impression: Wannabe-Organization XIII also hires women, cool. Wonder if she’ll get to do anything?

Impression now: I’m sad so much got cut from HW; as great as it was, a lot got left on the editing room floor and it shows in spots–particularly where the Ascians connect with the plot. We learn much about her retroactively as well, including how she worked for/with Lahabrea thanks to being the one to wreck the Thirteenth, and change Ascian policy on how to bring about Rejoinings. I still wanna know more about her.

Favorite moment: You beat the whale, good job–thanks, that’s my key now. It’s such a perfect dick move. Excellent timing and taunting. 

Idea for a story: Maybe some of her inner thoughts working for/with Lahabrea. She was a raised up shard, so does that mean they found the scattered pieces of her original soul and force-merged them? I doubt it, since Emet-Selch mentions raising up those who are a piece of the previous office holder, but I wonder if it came with imbuing the new title-holder with some of those memories and knowledge. Perhaps she wonders if some of her interactions/feelings/whatever with Lahabrea are her own, or her tapping into her previous life’s memories. Something to think about, anyway.

Unpopular opinion: I dunno, she shoulda gotten to stick around longer? Or been allowed to do a lot more? Should have been much more of a presence in HW, but I don’t think that’s unpopular so much as unconsidered.

Favorite relationship: Lahabrea is really the only one she gets significant interactions with. Though I wonder about her interactions with the other few women in the Ascians.

Favorite headcanon: See above with the story ideas, really; she didn’t get a lot of time onscreen so there’s a lot of room to make things up, and retroactive info from ShB to make her more interesting, or at least her situation as an upraised Ascian.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Prompts #Thancred Waters #Lahabrea #Igeyorhm #Ascians #illegiblewords