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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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Do I wanna know? - Chris Evans smut

The one where you’re pregnant, and Chris can’t keep his hands away from you.

Warnings: smut, masturbation, dirty talk, daddy! kink, kind of breeding kink?, possessiveness but kind of in a cute way?, pregnant reader

A/N: Day 10 of kinktober prompts were pregnancy and watching the other get off. Still publishing smut unrevised because I can’t be bother to both write and revise everything in the same day, so if anyone wants to become my beta, I’ll love you forever.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Even when my belly was barely visible, he was already incapable of keeping his hands to himself, always holding, and rubbing and kissing and then his hands would go a bit lower and he’d find me wet and ready for him, like I always was.

Only now that I was big enough that I was waddling my way everywhere, it was like I was some sort of visual viagra for Chris. He was always hard, always in need of my help to get through the day. Our sex life had never been slow when he was back into my arms, but now it was impossible to do anything without finding myself getting pounded by my boyfriend wherever we could find any semblance of privacy.

Which was why when he gave me those puppy eyes after seeing me take off the dress I’d put on for our weekly date night, I decided it was time to try something new.

“Chris, I physically can’t have your dick inside of me anymore, at least not for a few days,” I warned him, holding the hands with which he was trying to grab me to pull me against his body. “I’m serious.”

He was full-on pouting, now, and I could see from the corner of my eyes that there was already a tent on the sweatpants he had put on to bed, so I sighed, getting on my tiptoes to deposit a quick kiss on his lips, and quickly running away before he could grab me again.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do…” I started, sitting on our bed by the headboard, and stretching my legs open as I held my nipples between my fingers. “You’re gonna sit on that chair by the corner of the room, and you’re gonna play with your cock as you watch me play with myself.”

He groaned, immediately wrapping his hands around himself over the sweatpants and almost falling over his own legs while trying to reach his seat. “Fuck, you look so sexy, princess… If you could only look at yourself right now.”

The sight of him licking his lips as he stared at me, sprawled out for his viewing pleasure, had me whimpering. Fuck Christopher Evans and his eyelashes and his stupidly pink mouth. “You like it, daddy? This is yours, all yours. I’m all yours, baby.”

I pulled on my sensitive nipples, just enough to get me whining. I really was roughed up from the amount of times I’d had Chris inside of me the last few days, but if I was gentle enough, I’d be able to still put on a show for him and pleasure myself without hurting my lower parts.

“Shit, yeah, baby. Pull on those sweet nipples for me. I love sucking on them so much, I can’t wait to see our child drinking from you.” Fuck, one of the things I loved the most about my man was how filthy he could get when we were down to business.

“Oh, yeah, daddy? What about this pussy, so you like tasting it?” I allowed my hand to travel further down my body, until my middle finger was grazing my opening and I could use it to circle my clit. It was so enlarged from my hormones getting me horny despite the fact that I’d been fucked every single day of the week that this simple touch felt like heaven, making me throw my head back and expose my neck to Chris, who cursed at the sight of my breasts bouncing slightly from the sudden movement.

“Hell yeah, baby girl, I love it so much. You taste so fucking sweet, I miss it every single time I’m not down on my knees, with your legs over my shoulders. Collect some of that wetness and taste it yourself, honey. Want you to understand why I love eating that pretty pussy.” He’d made me suck on his fingers after they were inside of me a thousand times, but doing it myself, under his watchful gaze, made the whole thing so much hotter.

He was right, I was sweet. But I don’t think I would have appreciated it as much if he wasn’t looking at me like that, like he wanted to devour me whole, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the veins in his neck popping from the restrain he was exercising as he tried to keep himself from cumming.

His thick cock, the reason for many of my wet dreams, was dripping from it’s red tip, and I had to bite my own lip to contain my desire to have him in my mouth. There was always time for that later. Right now, this little experience we were sharing was more than enough.

Chris’ P.O.V.

“So fucking hot, baby. I love you so much. I could spend the rest of my life between your legs and I’d die a happy man. And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? It doesn’t matter that your pretty little pussy is red and abused, if I asked you to spread your legs for me, you’d do so in a second.”

I had to chuckle at the long, drawn-out whine my girlfriend emitted at my words. “Don’t whine, baby. You know how it gets me too fucking hard when you whine like a pretty little baby. If you whine, I’ll have to put you over my lap and punish you.”

She gasped at my words, her little fingers finally plunging inside of her hole as she stared down at me with those fuck-me eyes. Oh, how I loved her. She was my partner, my equal in every single way.

“I don’t think we can get any kinkier, honey,” I joked, squeezing my dick as I watched her thrust her fingers inside of her pussy. She let out a tiny choked up laugh at my teasing, still too busy with chasing her high as I watched her from the chair.

“I don’t know… I can think of a few new ways to experiment when I’m no longer knocked up.” I growled at her response, suddenly feeling my cock throbbing against my fist. Not only the knowledge that she truly was as horny as I was, and up to try new things anytime, already had me feel like cumming, but the reminder that she was pregnant with my child almost made me lose control then and there.

Of course, the visual reminder was there, and I fucking loved it - it was the main reason why I’d been unable to keep my dick in my pants these last few weeks - but to hear it in her mouth, it only made the entire experience even more real.

“You like being pregnant with my child, baby? You like knowing that I ruined you for any other man, because the only cum you’ll want between your legs is mine?” Her breath hitched at my words, her movements on her clit accelerating, as I mirrored in my own cock. “Tell me you love my seed, honey. Tell me you love the fact that I turned you into a mommy, that you can’t wait to be knocked up by me again.”

It was enchanting to see her cumming, and one of the many reasons why I knew I had to have her for the rest of my life. I couldn’t imagine myself without her anymore, and I wanted to be the one bringing (or, in this case, witnessing) her pleasure until our dying days.

The sight of her mouth hanging open, her fingers deep inside of her - where I wished I could be - and her breasts jumping from her effort to get more air in her lungs had me cursing as I, too, reached my own high, spurting cum all over my stomach.

“You okay, honey?” I asked after I grabbed a wet towel to clean ourselves with, sitting by her side on the bed, where she laid like she didn’t have any ounce of energy left in her body.

“Yes,” she guaranteed me, but I could hear it in her voice that she was almost asleep already. “Chris?” She asked as I softly ran the fluffy fabric in between her legs, and I hummed to let her know I was listening. “Why are you so attracted to the idea of me being pregnant?”

My lips twitched up in amusement at her question, but nonetheless, I knew the answer already. “I like the idea of the world knowing you’re mine. Yes, it’s possessive, but that’s me, and I know you love me, sweetheart.”

I kissed her little nose as I curled up behind her, my hands protectively holding my unborn baby and my very sleepy baby mama. “I do love you, you absolute caveman,” she joked, and with a laugh, I went to sleep with barely contained excitement for the next day, when I would finally be able to add a ring to the list of physical evidence that she was mine and mine alone.

#chris evans #chris evans smut #smut #my fics #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #chris evans reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans oneshot #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans writing #chris evans writings

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soupbabe · 3 years

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Shun Kaidou x Male! Reader HCs

Best boy best boy best boy!!! also may or may not sneak some Transguy!Kaidou in this too, hope that y'all don't mind!

Poor boy saw you for the first time and automatically thought you were the prettiest boy he ever saw, so when you introduced yourself to him he stammered like a fool for 2 minutes, then went on with the dramatic 'Jet Black Wings' introduction

You had to discreetly ask other students if you were allowed to play along with his hero delusion or if you had to break it to him that the Dark Reunion doesn't exist

You went a long with it just a tad, you couldn't fully shut him down because of the sad and discouraged look on his face when people made fun of him for it

I can imagine once Kaidou starts developing feelings for you, he was on edge and harsher (?) because in his mind you suddenly became an undercover villain the Dark Reunion sent to befriend him and then get rid of

Even though the reality of it was that he just never dealt with a genuine crush before and it scares him

Queue Saiki stepping in to set things straight because it did hurt you a bit to see Kaidou go on and claim that you're some evil enchanter dude out to get him and he started distancing himself away from you. Don't be mistaken, Kaidou definitely felt the effects of his own actions too. He apologized so many times once Saiki had to get involved because it weirded him out to see his friend classmate get so down because of a guy

Also Saiki was the one to clarify to Kaidou that what he was experiencing was a crush, unintentionally starting too many plans on how Kaidou will win you over and you'll become his boyfriend

Project "Make Y/N my super amazing and cute and handsome boyfriend" is a go!

It starts off with daily compliments, that usually has him hyping himself up with his Hero persona, then him absolutely losing his cool once he actually sees you

"Hey Y/N! You look handsome today!" Oh my god did his voice just crack. "Oh thanks, but are you sick or something? Your face is red."

Okay okay Plan A isn't going that well,,, onto Plan B: Impress him!

This meant that you were constantly being "saved" by The Jet Black Wings, even though the saving was just preventing you from going through minor inconveniences

I swear to God it's like a 6th sense this simp had. Hands are full and the door almost closed on you? Boom, here's Kaidou to save the day! Almost tripped on some litter on the ground on your way to school? Kaidou literally yelled + kicked at it and claimed that it was a trap planted by the Dark Reunion since they knew that you were close to him

You aren't that dumb, you had that suspicion that he had a crush on you so you decided to talk to him privately about it via a study session at your house

So when it was time to address his recent behavior, his brain hit the panic button because this wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to catch on this early. He waved his hands around, frantically apologizing if he made you uncomfortable and if you wanted to stay friends that's 100% okay with him a-

You had to shut him up with a lil kiss on the cheek and told him that you want him to be your boyfriend too.

Nice going Y/N, not even a minute into your new relationship and you're already sure you killed your bf

He got so red faced he passed out-

Considering how he reacted to a little kiss, y'all don't do pda at all unless you want to fluster him

Which doesn't take much, hold his hand on the way to school and he goes "Y/N!!SJSNSKKSBZJSNSHAJ" "Shun, how were you able to even pronounce that?" "It's one of the many secret abilities the Jet Black Wings has yet to show you, darling Y/N!"

You're his sidekick now, even if you don't fully commit to the hero bit. He'll ask you for back up when he's faced with a great foe

You better back him up. Mostly to be a good boyfriend. Secondly, if he's trying to stand up to someone bigger than him (which to be fair. Is literally everyone) there's a good chance you need to be on standby just in case we need a trip to the nurse's office

He likes to call you his Second in Command or he shows you hero name ideas for you in his notebook

He has a separate notebook for your Relationship btw and it's very cute

When you both hang out at Shun's house, it has to be under the excuse of it being for studying just because he hasn't come out as gay yet to his mom yet. He has a feeling that his mom would be okay with it. Like she accepted that her son was trans, but it still makes him nervous

Mama Kaidou already knows and doesn't mind you dating her son. His grades actually have gone up since the relationship started so she's happy and will mind her own business

Y'all actually do study in this at home sessions and it's actually kind of cute. Celebratory kisses when he does well in reviews and at the end y'all cuddle while he gets to ramble about his plans on defeating the Dark Reunion

Dating Shun also involves making sure he's doing okay and he's not pushing himself too hard despite him being a kick ass "superhero"

This mostly comes in when he gets dysphoric and wears his binder for too long

"Shun, it's necessary for you to take breaks. Wearing your binder for longer than you should will mess up your transition in the future." "But I'm okay! You forget I'm not a mere mortal I can handl-" "I'll let you wear my sweaters." "*👀* Okay!"

Days like those are just the both of you cuddling, him wearing your sweater/hoodie, and you giving Shun little remarks to make him feel better

His favorite is when you call him "my hero" or simply "handsome man"

Please run your fingers through his hair it makes him so happy

If you don't wanna wear his hoodies or if you can't, he'll gladly lend you his various rings and necklaces

"This ring was blessed by the gods for ultimate protection against enemies! I think it's the best for you to wear this when I'm not around to protect you."

It was one of those glow in the dark rings you get at arcades, but you couldn't break the proud smile on his face.

Also likes to gift you crystals too! It doesn't matter if they end up not being 100% real, you still put them proudly on your desk and Shun gets so overjoyed when he finds out they aren't just casted aside

He's so happy with you, he finally has someone who loves him and doesn't judge him on his hero complex and doesn't mind the awkward guy behind it too. He gives you many kisses when he is reminded of that and constantly reminds you how lucky he is to have you as his boyfriend <3

#disastrous life of saiki k #shun kaidou #kaidou headcanons #kaidou shun #disastrous life of saiki k x reader #shun kaidou x reader #kaidou shun x reader #x male reader #x reader

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buckthegrump · 4 years

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Enchanted

Summary: Balls bore you half to death. And the suitors that come from across the lands seeking your hand in marriage all seem to have forgotten about human decency. Until one day it doesn’t seem so bleak. Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: legit pure fluff, swearing but what else is new

Word Count: 2029

A/n: I wrote this au a million years ago and now @sunmoonandbucky demanded that i post it rude so here it is.

The only thing you hated about being royalty were balls. Well, not the only thing, but they were at the top of the shortlist. They were always the same old thing. You were forced to dance with diplomats and princes from all different lands, some of them cute, but all of them had the same stick up their ass. Assuming that you would fall head over heels for them because they seemed to forget that you were in line for your own thrown and didn’t need theirs.

So you expected tonight to be the same; only today, your father was insisting that you find someone with whom you could at the very least tolerate. It was your mother’s birthday ball, and the two of them were getting worried because they didn’t think that any one person should rule on their own. They seemed to forget that they had gotten lucky when they found each other and almost instantly fell in love.

A ruler should have someone who knew them better than anyone else, someone who could help them see every aspect of their decision, someone who understood what they were going through. That and it was customary for a kingdom to have two rulers in fear that if only one person ruled, they would become a tyrant.

They had a point, but damn, every one of the “suitable” suitors made you want to volunteer to go dragon hunting.

“But mama,” you protested as you walked behind her. She was telling you that your father was right and that if you didn’t find someone tonight that you could at least live with, they would choose for you.

“No, Y/n, I have heard the last of your protests.” She stopped walking abruptly and turned towards you. “Now I have invited new kingdoms from even further away. None of the boys coming tonight are in line for their own throne, so you can literally pick any of them.”

“The fact that you called them boys just now makes me apprehensive about this whole thing,” you said, and your mother sighed heavily.

“Fine, none of the MEN coming tonight are in line for their own throne. Now please put your father's mind at ease and just pick one.” She turned and began walking again.

“What if they are all the worst people in the world, and not even papa likes them?” You challenged, and she stopped and turned again this time with slightly more rage.

“Fine, if by some act of the universe every single one of the men,” she stressed that last word for you. “Is no better than that Duke of-”

“Troutdale?” You finished, and your mother audibly gags, a very unqueenly gesture, but no one but yourself was paying attention to her.

“Oh, don’t even say it.” She rolled her eyes. “Then yes, you can put off finding someone until the next ball, but you are running out of time, child.”

You smiled as she stormed out of the grand hall. The servants were hard at work, rushing around getting everything done in time for the ball. You turned knowing that you can easily convince your father that every suitor that comes tonight was no good. It was your mother that you had to be more mindful of.

The ball was in full swing, and your mother looked less than pleased with you. You had turned away every single suitor that had come forward so far, which was somewhere around 10. Your father was still hopeful. He looked like he had a secret that he was hiding from you.

“Y/n, there’s someone I want you to meet,” He said, and you quickly found an excuse to get out of it.

“In a minute papa, I am famished.” You turned and rushed towards the food. You made it to the table and grabbed a goblet of wine and quickly down it. You turned, and from across the room, you see a man with bright blue eyes and even brighter smile who was laughing at something someone was saying.

The two of you locked eyes for a moment, and he gave you a nod to acknowledge he saw you and turned back to the conversation he was having.

“Did someone catch your eye?” You turned to see Taylor, your best friend, smirking at you.

“Oh hush now,” you glared. “He was just laughing, I’ve never seen anyone laugh at a ball before.”

“Well, that’s because you are never looking.” She laughed. “You’re always trying to run off every suitor that comes knocking at your door.”

She paused, and you grabbed another goblet of wine. “Go talk to him.”

You choked, and wine almost came out your nose. “Excuse me?”

“Go speak to him.” She took the goblet and whispered into your ear. “You might miss your chance.”

“Chance at what?”

“Just go,” She ordered as she walked away with your wine.

“Taylor,” you halfheartedly called after her. “That’s my wine.”

When you looked back to where he was standing, he was gone. You sighed, grab some food, and head back to your father to meet the next boy. Your mother had been wrong so far, all of the ‘men’ she promised had turned out to be spoiled boys.

“You are a very hard woman to track down,” Someone said behind you, and you turned to see the blue-eyed man.

“Am I an elk?” Your question seemed to shock him.

“Pardon?”

“Well, you said I was difficult to track down. Are you comparing me to the game that you hunt wherever you’re from?”

“Forgive me, allow me to introduce myself,” He bowed slightly. “Bucky.”

“Y/n.” You curtsied. “So, what brings you here?”

“My father is on business here, trying to get me to take up his trade.” He smiled and cocked an eyebrow. “And you?”

“My mother is trying to marry me off.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of lady who will be married off.”

“Not easily, no, much to her disappointment.” A prideful smile came across your face.

“Would you like to get out of here?” He stepped closer. “Just for a moment?”

You think for a second and glanced over to your parents who are queueing up the next suitors. “Yes.” You breathed.

Bucky offered you his arm, and you took it. He led you through the crowd and out of the hall.

“Where are you going?” Taylor asked you just as you were about to walk out the door. “Should I be concerned?”

“Just cover for me, ok? I’ll be back soon.” You pleaded.

“Fine, but don’t do anything stupid.” She said, letting you go.

“So, this is the first time out of your home country?” You asked him as the two of you walked down the moonlit path in the garden.

“Yes, until recently, my family was concerned,” he chose his words carefully. “They thought that if we left, then we would fall ill and never recover. How about you, is this your first time to Rosedale?”

“No, I live here.”

“Would you ever move away?” He looked at you.

“That’s not really an option for me. Would you leave your home?” You took a turn that led you to a swing where you take a seat, and Bucky remained standing.

“Well, I might, but that’s not really up to me either.” He smiled sadly.

“If you could stay, would you?”

“No, I would just like a say in the matter is all.”

“Ok, let’s talk about something else. What is the royal family like where you’re from?”

“Oh well,” he blew out air. “They are very kind for the most part. They have odd quirks about them that not everyone understands. And the King and Queen are rather paranoid, although there’s no real good reason as to why. What about here? What are they like?”

“Oh well, the King and Queen are fair enough. They try their best to make sure that everything is fair and equal, but that’s not always what people think it is.” You looked at him from the side of your eye. “But the princess is something else. She is very stubborn and rather impossible if you ask me or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

You looked at him. Trying to keep your demeanor neutral. “What did you hear?”

“Well, I heard that she is very kind to those whom she trusts and likes. And that she isn’t impossible, she’s just protective of the ones she loves and herself.”

“You’ve been here a very short time to know so much.” You stood. “Shows you’re resourceful.”

“Well, I find that if you ask servants about the people they work for, they are quite honest. If you give them the right amount of money.” In the distance, the bells could be heard ringing marking the start of a new hour.

“We should be getting back,” You said, he offered you his arm again, and you took it.

The two of you walked back to the ball, occasionally talking about something or another. When you got back, Bucky dropped your arm and faced you.

“I have thoroughly enjoyed myself tonight. It was enchanting to meet you.” He lightly kissed your hand and disappeared into the crowd.

Taylor rushed up beside you and grabbed your arm. She started ushering you back towards your parents. “They kept asking me where you were, so I told them that you went to tend to a matter in the kitchen. I didn’t come up with the actual situation, so if they ask, that’s up to you. But they have a whole line of men for you to meet. None of them are as nearly as cute or charming as the one you were just with, so put on a brave face and shoot them all down.” She patted your hand. “You’re good at that.”

“Thanks, Taylor,” you deadpanned and walked back to your parents.

“Ah, there you are Y/n,” your father held out an arm to you, and you walked towards him. “I trust that the situation in the kitchen has been dealt with?”

“Of course, father.” You plastered the fakest smile you can manage.

“Great, because I have more people I want you to meet.” He gestured over to the line, and you at that moment, wanted to die just a little bit.

Your already dwindling patient was vanishing very quickly due to the amount of bullshit that was being said by the suitors your father was introducing, and much to your surprise, your mother, was agreeing with you.

“Truly Travis, the men you have chosen are abominable,” your mother said, not so quietly in between men.

“Well, Gladis, I doubt you could’ve done any better with the selection that we have tonight.” Your father tried to defend himself.

“You invited all of these families. I, however, only invited one, and I’ve known the mother since childhood.” Your mother smiled.

“Oh yes, well, not all of us had outgoing and charming parents,” your father said bitterly.

“Don’t I know it.” You blurt, earning a glare from your parents. “So mother, when is your ‘perfect fit’ going to introduce himself.”

“Soon,” she said with the look of glee still present on her face. “Very soon.”

You went through way too many suitors in the next half hour. Some of them weren’t even eligible, you were pretty sure your father was just grasping at a dream he wasn’t sure he could have any more.

“Ahh, yes, here they come,” your mother said.

“Your grace, King, and Queen Barnes from Artendale.”

“Gladis,” Mrs. Barnes said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Hopefully, next time will be in the near future,” You caught your mother winking at her.

“Shall we introduce our son?” The King asked. “James Barnes, Prince of Artendale.”

To your surprise, Bucky came into view, and you were at a loss for words. He smiled at you, and you return it.

“Princess,” Bucky said, and it almost sounded like a question.

“Prince James.” You could feel the pride radiating off of your mother. You hated to admit it, but she might have been right.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes AU #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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holylangdon · 5 years

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No Tears Left To Cry (Mother!Cordelia Goode x Reader)

Request: N/A

Warnings: Mother!Cordelia x Daughter!Reader, reader is placed under an identity spell with Coco and Mallory

Word Count: 1.0k

A/N: This scene made me so sad, so naturally, I had to write my own and make it sadder

“If you have any business with Michael that I’m unaware of, girls, now is the time to come clean. I can’t protect you once you're under the spell. I can’t risk him recognizing any of you.”

Your mother’s words shook you to your core, almost with fear. She glanced over your newly enchanted locks of hair and unusually dark eyes, your freshly sun-kissed skin. Her daughter looked like a different person. One she barely recognized at all. But deep, deep within your new appearance, she saw that small glimmer of herself that reminded her who you were. And within that, who she was.

She was your mother. Without you, she was nothing. You had been the light of her life since you were born and she truly couldn't imagine her life without you. Hell, she hardly remembered her life before she had you, and to her, that was a good thing. Her heart ached when she thought of what was to come, to put you directly in harm’s way for the sake of the world. Even though she knew it was for the better, that you were disguised and camouflaged right under Satan’s nose.

But it was good that you were unrecognizable. That means that she did a good job in placing you into your new surroundings. The Supreme was now forced to say goodbye to her only child, possibly forever. You were going to be lost in the Hollywood Hills with Mallory and Coco until the Antichrist decided to strike with his nuclear apocalypse. Then, you would be rescued and sent to one of his underground survival bunkers. His grip on her coven was far too strong for you to all stay together. She had created new identities for each of you. The new Coco St. Pierre-Vanderbilt was inspired by Madison Montgomery herself. Mallory, her assistant, based on several of the many that Madison had when she was an actress. And you... Your new identity held a special place in her heart. The new Y/N Y/N/L/N was uniquely influenced by the young Myrtle Snow herself. Maybe a little bit of Zoe or Nan mixed in there, but mostly your aunt.

You were to be just like her when she was your age. Cunning and alluring, stubborn in your own right. A prodigy of many things and arts. An eye for interesting fashion, which would now be a sense for information. Discreetly determined in your unbeknownst task. Not to mention a shining young actress, which was the suggestion of Bubbles McGee herself.

To be completely truthful, it wasn’t far from your personality now. Myrtle had helped raise you a great deal until she was burned at the stake. And now, these past couple hellish years, she had been your best friend. Your educator, your second mother. She had ingrained so many of her own traits and values and beliefs into you, and for that, you were beyond thankful.

While you and your witchy sisters were under the spell, your mother, Myrtle, and Madison were going to bury themselves underground and wait out the years in the confinement of the earth. That, unfortunately, was not an option for you. You were too powerful and bold to hibernate, your powers would simply explode inside of you. You had to live it out and suppress your abilities, much like Mallory and Coco, until it was time to save the world. Cordelia would much rather you come with her, and that was a difficult reality for her to face. She was finally sending her only baby out into the world, completely human and powerless. That was not ideal for her.

A tear slipped from Cordelia’s cheek as she watched you let go of Myrtle’s hand, coming to stand in front of her. You had just finished whispering your goodbyes to your aunt when your mother called on you. She was to do your spell first, because she was damn aware that it would hurt her the most.

“I am so proud of the young woman you’ve become.” She said lightly, her eyes soft with emotion. “You... When you were born, I was so terrified that I would become my mother. That I would absolutely destroy you. God, I’m so glad to see you now. Beautiful, and strong, independent. You have everything I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“Mama....” You felt the tears stinging in your eyes as you tried to blink them away. “I love you, okay?”

“I know. I know, baby.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist as she let the tears fall for a moment. Upon pulling away, she ran her thumb underneath your eye, catching the water that came from it before doing the same to her own. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, looking into her dark eyes. They glimmered with sadness, a light pink ring surrounding them from her tears. You glanced over to Myrtle, who gave you a small nod. She couldn’t be in the thread ring when it happened, much to your dismay. Your eyes trailed over Madison. Coco. Mallory. You’d said your goodbyes to each girl before you had to let go.

“We’ll be waiting on the other side.” Mallory said, her hand wrapped tightly in Coco’s as they sat on the couch. You could see a small piece of sadness in Madison’s eyes as she batted her eyelashes to push it away. She was never one for emotion, not since you’d first met her damn near a decade ago. She’d come to Miss Robichaux’s around 2012, and the two of you were instantly best friends. You’d grown up with each other and neither of you could quite imagine your lives without each other at this point.

Myrtle paused your mother’s hand for a moment by holding up her own gloved one. “You’ll know when we need you, little dove. I promise.”

And with a small nod and a blow of the silvery powder that rested in her palm, Y/N Goode was gone, replaced by a different girl.

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fandomfanficandmore · 5 years

Text

The Promise (Warlock!5sos)

Another Coven Fic? You fuckin’ betcha! This is a short fluffy one, so enjoy!

fandom: 5 Seconds of Summer

pairing[s]: Ashton Irwin x Ophelia Blackwell

Luke Hemmings x Salem Blackwell

warnings: Warlock! 5SOS, a proposal, lovey Ash, lots of celebrity mentions- try to identify all of them.

word count: 1.8k+

The sun was setting as the group gathered in the mountains surrounding the busy city. Once a week, usually a late Saturday afternoon, the coven of 13 met to practice and worship under their supreme- a woman named Ophelia.

She had just turned 20 when she was handed the title from the previous supreme, her mother Stevie Nicks. Ophelia and her sister, Salem, had been working towards becoming the coven’s supreme since they were children. They were born into the coven, their birth mother being one of the leaders before she was killed by a witch hunter when the girls were three. Instead of them being taken away from the coven, mama Nicks took them in and raised them as her own, teaching them all she possibly could.

Each girl had their own special powers, setting them apart from the rest of the coven. Salem was a telepath, able to read the minds of everyone around her, except for her partner, Luke. Ophelia, on the other hand, was a seer- someone who could see the future- and that made her the perfect candidate for supreme.

Unlike other covens, this one was filled with the celebrities most looked up to. The ranks included the likes of Brendon Urie, the empath, and Jack Barakat, the conjurer.

The coven, though small, was also home to the members of an alternative band known as 5 Seconds of Summer. Luke, Salem’s partner, was a necromancer while Ashton, Ophelia’s partner, was a traveler. Calum, on the other hand, was an elemental and Michael was an eclectic.

Fe looked around the group, all of whom were in the own conversations. This was her second meeting as supreme and she was still extremely nervous, even though everything had already been said and done.

“You did fine, Fe.” A voice inside her head made her jump. She cast a glance at her sister who smiled softly at her while playing with Luke’s hair as he spoke.

“Thanks, Sal.” She thought back.

Salem looked up at her partner, watching his curls bounce as he nodded at what Calum was saying, admiring the way the late afternoon sun reflected off of his hair.

“What are you looking at?” Luke looked down at her, his accent thick as he talked- as it normally is after he’s used his powers.

“You.” Salem purred, making him chuckle. He leaned down, peppering kisses along her jaw as if they weren’t being watched. Salem felt Calum walk away as she leaned into Luke, her eyes drifting closed.

‘Always one to put on a show, aren’t you?’ Salem’s eyes shot open, searching the area for the chocolate haired devil himself, Harry. He, like her, could read minds, and he definitely used it to his advantage when it came to her.

‘Shouldn’t you be off entrancing school girls or something?’ She responded, trying to focus back on Luke.

‘But what fun would that be when you’re right there, looking enchanting as always.’ She couldn't stop the annoyed groan that escaped her lips, causing Luke to pull away.

“Everything alright, love?” He asked, making her roll her eye. “Harry again?”

“He just loves these little head games of his.” She shook her head. “Anyways, we should go talk to Fe. She’s feeling lonely.”

Ophelia was standing by the fire, warming up when her boyfriend appeared next to her, her leather jacket in his hand. “My coat?”

“You were cold so I popped home and got it.” She took the coat from him before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thanks, babe.” She pulled it on as her sister and Luke approached. “Hey guys.”

“Are you almost ready to go?” Her sister asked her, following up before Ophelia could get her thoughts out, “We have that dinner with mother in an hour, remember? You, me, Ash and Luke? We made the plans-”

“Before she went on the recruiting trip. Right. It completely slipped my mind.” Fe confessed. She had spent many nights after her appointment pacing, stressing and worrying about her new title, and because of that a lot of things had slipped her mind. She looked up at Ashton, who smiled softly at her before nodding. He couldn’t read minds like Salem and Harry, but he knew what Fe was thinking without her having to say a word.

“I’ll take her home and you guys meet us there when you finish up here?” Ashton asked the other pair who nodded in return. They knew Ophelia was the best in the kitchen and could whip up a full feast in 20 minutes with the help of her powers.

A second later, Ashton had his arms around Ophelia’s waist and in a flash, they were back at the Nicks house. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek as she moved to the kitchen, flicking her wrist to turn the house. She muttered a few Latin words under her breath as she washed her hands, all of the ingredients she needed making their way to the kitchen island.

“Do you need any help, Fe?” Ashton asked as she turned off the water, spinning around to face him with a tired smile.

“Could you get the table set, please?” She returned, watching as he smiled and nodded. Snapping his fingers together, the dishes began setting themselves at the table. She was reading through her old cookbook- a witches guide to cooking that mama Nicks had given her for her 10th birthday, finding the spells she would need to make the food.

Ashton walked to the record player, exchanging the old jazz record for Ophelia’s favorite, the old rock tune fading in through the speakers. He looked over at her, watching as she shut her eyes to listen, calming down before she started anything.

They had been together for over two years, having met when he was introduced to the coven by Harry. He first discovered he had powers when he traveled from one side of a couch to the other while on tour, and Harry happened to see it. As soon as they were off tour, Harry took him to Los Angeles to introduce him to the girls’ mother, Stevie, and explain what the coven was. He could remember seeing Ophelia walk into the room, her nose buried in a book, as a weird feeling rose in his stomach. He was sure it wasn’t nerves- he knew what those felt like- but he was sure it had to do with her, especially because Harry noticed that both had felt it. They later learned that the feeling was called the Divine, a connection between a powerful witch and warlock, who the spirits believed were meant to be. It was strange at first, as he was so new to magic and he barely knew her, but soon they both realized that it was in fact true.

Ashton watched as she began preparing the dinner, listening as she recited spells. Though they had done this many times together, he still watched as though it was his first time witnessing it.

Something that no one- except for probably Salem, he wasn’t sure- knew what was going to happen tonight. After countless nights of researching coven laws and traditions, he was ready. Ready to propose to Ophelia.

In the coven, when a warlock proposed to a witch, he must use a live vine from an ancient plant to signal life, commitment, and growth- both emotionally and spiritually. Both must wear matching rings until their ceremony, where the rings will be traded in for two silver bands forged in the fires of hell. Because of his career, Ashton also had two separate silver rings, nearly identical to the vines, that the pair would wear in public so as to not be questioned.

The front door creaked open, Ophelia’s mother floating in with grace as her bags made their way upstairs. She offered Ashton a soft smile before joining her daughter in the kitchen.

“How was the meeting tonight, Fe?” She asked, washing her hands.

“Good.” Her daughter nodded, the music stopping itself so they could talk without interruption. “Did you find any new-”

“No,” Stevie shook her head, her hair flowing behind her, “it’s been uncharacteristically quiet lately.”

“Well it is only early fall, so there’s still time.” Ophelia offered her mother a smile. “I’m sure we will find some soon.”

“Where’s your sister?” Ophelia closed her eyes before speaking.

“She and Luke stayed behind to replace the protection charms. They should be home now.” As she opened her eyes, she was her sister and her partner walking down the hallway, away from the mirror room.

It was nearing witching hour, the group of five sitting on the back porch. Floating lanterns illuminated the area, casting a soft yellow glow on everyone. Ashton fiddled with the vine in his hand, casting a glance towards Ophelia, taking a deep breath. Both mama Nicks and Salem watched the man with knowing eyes, Salem sending him a short ‘you got this.’

“Fe?” He cleared his throat, catching the attention of his partner who had been throwing a light sphere back and forth with Luke. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, Ash.” She nodded, moving to stand up, but he stopped her. He wanted everyone around for this.

“Don’t worry about moving,” he shot her a soft smile, “I want to do this here.” She cast him a confused glance, to which he returned a bright smile. “We’ve been together for over two years, Fe, two of the best years of my life. My life changed drastically when I learned I had powers, and I honestly thought my life would end, but then I met you. You showed me that my powers were a good thing, you taught me how to use them and you showed me that we could do this- together.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not very good with Latin, but Fe, negabit me tibi.”

Ophelia’s has dropped. Before she was made supreme, she had thought about this moment many times- she had seen it many times. She knew the future could change, but she hadn’t seen it happening like this. She was overwhelmed yet ecstatic. She knew Ashton was her soulmate- or as close to one as a witch could get- and she loved him so deeply. She’d always expected him to ask, but she never expected him to do it now, especially in Latin, the one thing she knew he still struggled with.

Looking at Ashton’s whose eyes were bright with hope, she nodded slowly. “Yes.” She watched as he slipped the vine on her finger, handing her the other to put on his.

Her sister was the first to congratulate her, pulling her in for a hug.

“Finally! I’ve been listening to his nervous thoughts for two days!” Salem thought, making Ophelia laugh silently. “Congrats sister.”

“Thank you!” She thought back, pulling away with a smile. Ophelia turned to her mother, who was finishing congratulating Ashton.

“My beautiful Ophelia.” Her mother called, grabbing her by the hands and pulling her forward carefully. She didn’t need to say much to show how she felt, so she just sent her a warm smile and a quiet congratulations.

tag list: @scribblesos, @damselindistressanu

#weren't expecting that many coven fics #especially in one night #i've been prepping tho #ashton irwin #ash #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin imagines #ashton irwin x oc #ashton 5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos #the coven #warlock! 5sos

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themidtowners · 5 years

Text

OC intro

nadezhda “nadya” andreevna sapozhnikova

sweet child, around 7 years old

The young girl, with soft curls clipped back by rhinestone encrusted bobby pins is never seen without her beloved best friend by her side. Hello Kitty journals. Sparkly pens. Surprisingly neat scrawl. Rollerball lipgloss. Body glitter. A handful of flowers she picked with her best friend at recess, safely bundled up to bring to her mama.

Her brother, though annoying, filling the seemingly lifeless rooms with goofy singing and stories of bizarre characters he created. Even after two years it somehow still didn’t feel like home. They all speak Russian at home, their first language, and the only source of familiarity that would remain a constant throughout the Sapozhnikov siblings’ lives.

She hoped that the more wildflowers she brought home the better the house would feel. She feared she had accidentally upset the spirit that protected the house, she wondered if the spirit was best friends with the people who lived there before her family. Maybe it missed its friend, and felt lonely like she did. She started leaving a few flowers on the porch every day to let it know she would be its friend. Mama always said it was bad luck for the domovoy to be displeased. She prayed each night that her brother would sing louder and tell his stories more passionately each day so that his voice would echo through the halls and warm the ever-present chill she would never be able to fully shake.

curious child, around 10 years old

Messy half updos. A lightly tinted pink sparkly lipgloss. A library card. Backpack full of books, blissfully unaware that someday her back would be aching from the weight of a different kind of book. Good grades. Watching her best friend at her recitals, wishing she was good at something like her friend was. Loud giggles as a tight trio solidified, rationing out the cookies and small cakes and some fruit they stole. Enchanting tales from the siblings’ motherland kept their friend in awe each summer evening as they walked back to their cul-de-sac. She always wondered why her mother sat on the porch swing and waited for them, they never strayed far and they never got into trouble. They’d greet their mother and wander inside. As they put their shoes away they always heard their father whispering to their mother, inaudibly. She wanted to know what he said, and why she always responded with a nervous and doubtful look. She knew they were safe here, that’s what papa always told them. She’d understand in due time.

steadfastly angered girl, around 13 years old

Her hair, tangled and falling in her face as she sits slumped in the chair in the principal’s office. She crosses her arms as angry tears drip from her eyes faster than blood was dripping from her split lip. He wouldn’t listen to her, it wasn’t her fault. She told him to stop taunting her. He wouldn’t stop after she warned him, so she had to stop him herself. He punched back, she thought he should be in more trouble than he was. Just because she punched first doesn’t mean she was the one who deserved to be punished. She just wanted her ari and frozen peas for her jaw. She didn’t listen to the stupid man telling her how unladylike it is to fight and that boys just tease when they like someone, that she needed to take herself less seriously. She was too tired to argue with the man, and the way he watched her made the room spin. It could’ve been the oncoming concussion, but his gaze was more uncomfortable than the pounding in her head. She cried into ari’s arms on the way home, her brother angrily kicking rocks beside them; angry that he wasn’t there to help his sister. He picked his sister a handful of wildflowers, leaving one on the porch. They both started praying again, quietly and subtly, the sign of the cross becoming second nature as it was to the generations who struggled before them.

opinionated teen, around 15 years old

The trio sat in detention. She got in trouble for calling out her history teacher, debating the version of history that he was choosing to present the class. He got mad she detected and efficiently debated the heavy bias in his information. He told her that girls like her were meant to sit and look pretty, to keep their head down and do their work. She called him a few unsavory things and was introduced to the high school’s principal. It wouldn’t be her last encounter with him either, much to both of their irritation. Her brother got in a fight after getting called something, to the siblings, uncomfortably offensive in the hall. Ari snuck in through the window to keep them from burning the whole building down.

jaded young woman, around 18 years old

She smells of roses and vaguely of cigarettes, occasionally hints of something that certainly wasn’t tobacco. She quieted down over time, coming to class with glazed over eyes. Always carries around novels and journals. Fountain pens and an elegant swirling scrawl. Straight A student, graduating a year ahead of her best friend and two ahead of her brother. No longer so confrontational, however the raging fire still burned deep in the heart of her soul. She instead wrote essays and presented projects, scathing and brutal but full of an extremely well educated truth. The absolute mortification of her teachers pleases her.

Trauma will concrete itself into the core of her soul. She’s had tastes of what’s to come, but they are not enough to shield her palate.

She lives her life shamelessly romanticized. Classical romance, a dreamy idea of a woman. She loves early jazz and record players. She loves handwriting letters and pressing flowers, signing with lipstick kisses and a spritz of her perfume, secured with a wax seal. Soft billowing curtains and warm sunset hued lighting. The world so unforgiving, she decided to make her reality dreamy anywhere she could. A boy draped in leather catches her eye, she craves to live in the clouds with him.

The world has been cruel to her and her family, keeping generations in a tortured purgatory. Custom tailored to each generation, a special hell for every individual. She is in limbo, not sure she can call anywhere home. She aches to crawl back into the arms of her family’s motherland. To curl up in the vast expanses of the Russian countryside, to freely speak her native tongue, to run down gravel roads with her brother and cousins. To walk the land her ancestors walked before her. The soil they fought fiercely and bled for, before her. Maybe she would, she always told herself. She still tries to ignore the paranoia and uneasy fear that inevitably eventually washes over her, knowing it would likely not be safe. Her father had gathered his beloved family and fled for a reason. But the desolate midtown didn’t feel much like home still, even after 13 years. The only thing she can seem to fashion into a positive is the fact that it’s fruitful for her writing, leather-bound journals full of poetry and laments. Anger. Desperation. She wants to belong. But she never seems to.

The backdrop of her life - consisting of a crumbling and struggling society, a corrupt government and mistreatment of the masses - always haunting her tales of internal agony. Her best friend and her brother had found their own special space in the unwelcoming midtown, they have a place that is theirs and they find comfort in. She is jealous, she has nowhere to run to. Her only hollow refuge is her dreams. She dreams of the day the rapture will descend, lifting her from the conflicted identity crisis she has been nursing her whole life. She can hear the loud church bells ringing, light flooding the earth. She has seen all that she wants to, and felt all that she wants to. More than she wants to. She often pulls herself from her daydream, knowing all has been lost. A crooked man running across both lands she’s divided between. Only but a pale gleaming remains on the horizon, it seems oh, so, far away. She dreams someday she’ll stumble upon the choir singing her rhapsody, within it will hold light. She will continue dream all she wants to. Dreaming seems to be the only thing left she can do.

#oc intros #oc: nadezhda andreevna sapozhnikova #the midtowners #insp: nadya #riverdale

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

Text

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 99: Really Do Come True

After sending Stardust out of view, because it was known that Trolls didn't like horses, let alone Unicorns, David cautiously approached the bridge, as the hulking, ugly, foul smelling trolls emerged from beneath the bridge with menacing glares. One of them growled and raised his blade, causing David to put his hands up in a surrendering manner.

"Easy...we mean no harm," he assured.

"Humans...they're lying if their lips are moving," one of the trolls hissed to the other.

"All we want is passage across this bridge and we have gold," he offered, as he held up the small pouch.

"No one passes this bridge," the troll growled.

"Everyone has a price. Take a look," David offered, as he tossed the bag of gold at them. The Trolls gathered around and the leader looked up with skepticism. He was clearly impressed by the amount.

"Where does a peasant like you get gold like this?" he questioned.

"My parents send their goods with me to sell at the markets. Mother's pottery and blankets are very popular," he responded.

"No one pays for vases and wool with this kind of gold," one of the trolls hissed.

"It's a set up," the other hissed to their leader.

"What would I be setting up? I'm just a kid from a small farm," David replied.

"And who is she?" the lead Troll asked curiously.

"She's with me...just my girlfriend from a neighboring farm," David claimed and Snow felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of being his girlfriend. Even though she knew it was part of his ruse, it was certainly a lovely notion and she couldn't help but remember the sapling they had watched grow right before their eyes when their hands had brushed. She wondered about that, as she knew magic when she saw it. In fact, she was anxious to consult mother about what it could mean, but her attention was captured again when the Troll snapped at him.

"She's no farm girl…" he accused.

"Pretty...something tells me she is worth more on the market than your stupid pottery," the leader leered, as he started to go around David, but he blocked the way.

"If the gold isn't enough...I have more. But you can't have it unless you take your eyes off her now," David growled protectively, surprising Snow a bit. She knew they were friends, but it had probably crossed his mind that she had been nothing but trouble for him.

"What else do you have?" the Troll asked, intrigued. David dug into his pocket and extracted a ring, much to Snow's curiosity and she saw the way he was looking at it. She saw that it would pain him to part with it and she almost opened her mouth to tell him not to, for it was obvious that this ring was some kind of heirloom. But then her father's life still hung in the balance and she felt both guilt and fear eat at her. Was she selfish for being okay with him giving up the ring for her father's life? A man he had never met?

"A ring?" the troll asked gruffly.

"An enchanted ring," David claimed.

"And what's so enchanted about it?" the Troll asked skeptically.

"It's been passed down in my family for generations and it's said that whoever possess it will find the thing they love most," he claimed, recalling the story his mother had told him just recently when she had insisted that he have it…

~*~

Flashback

About Six Months Ago

David gazed up at the stars on that breezy evening and sighed deeply. It had not been a very good night, for he and his mother had gotten into a bit of an argument. At dinner, she had not so subtly mentioned that a girl from a neighboring farm had come of age and her father had suggested a union between the two of them. He was quite considerably wealthy and while they weren't dirt poor by any means, they still had to work very hard to live as comfortably as they did.

But he wasn't having any of it. He had met her a few times and it had been like carrying on a conversation with a parrot. This girl had been conditioned to be whatever a suitor wanted her to be. Her father had raised her to get the best deal, which wasn't uncommon at all in well off families. The only reason he considered David a good match for her was because Mama Sera's land was quite valuable and David knew the man had his eye on it. But he wanted no part of a loveless marriage of convenience. He didn't care how much money or what kind of dowry she came with, he wasn't marrying someone he didn't love.

He heard the door open behind him and found Ruth standing there, looking a bit sheepish. Mama Sera had probably had a long talk with her, for she herself had once been handed over to a man in an arranged marriage. He didn't know a lot about Mama Sera's past, except that she had been married off by her father to a King twice her age and that he was a very cruel man. She had barely escaped with her life and to this day, the King thought she was dead, which was the only reason she was still alive. He wondered a lot about that. He wondered why the King would marry her, only to later want her dead. But then he was just glad Mama Sera ha escaped and come to them, for she made his Mother and him very happy.

Ruth sat down beside him and sighed.

"I'm sorry David...I was wrong to push you into something like this. I...I just don't want you to struggle the way your father and I did. I was only trying to make sure you had the best, most comfortable life possible," she admonished.

"I know Mother...I'm sorry too. But I can't marry someone I don't love. You found love with Mama Sera and I want that...I want true love. Don't you think it's the one thing I can afford myself?" he asked. She smiled and hugged him.

"Yes...I want that for you too, more than anything. I just let my fear get the best of me for a moment," Ruth answered.

"But your Mama reminded me that sending you off to marry someone you don't love with your whole being would only cause you pain and then cause us pain," she replied, as she opened his palm and placed a ring in it.

"Isn't this the ring father gave you?" he asked.

"Yes...and at one time I believed that true love followed this ring," she mentioned.

"I lost that faith a bit after your father and I fell out of love. I tried giving it back to him the day I took you and left, but he refused to take it back. He said that the ring still followed true love. I didn't believe him, but I put it back on my finger and we walked out. I figured I could pawn it in the village," she responded. He smiled.

"And instead, it led you to Mama Sera," he surmised. She smiled.

"This ring is magic, my son...there's no explaining it, but it will lead you to true love...I feel it," she urged, as he stared at it.

"I hope so Mother...I really hope so," he replied, as he gazed up at the stars, but failed to notice one twinkling above him.

~*~

"And you expect me to believe some old wives tale?" the Troll hissed. He shrugged.

"Believe it or don't believe it. If more gold is what you want, then I'm certain that's what it will lead you to," David replied.

"And if this ring is so magical...then why would you give it up?" he questioned.

"Because it already led me to her," David claimed and Snow took a sharp breath at that, as her heart quickened, but then she chided herself. She had to remember that this was all just a ruse to get them past these Trolls. The Troll scoffed.

"Sentimental fool...you'd be better off with the gold," the Troll said, as he accepted the ring in addition to the gold.

"Go...before I change my mind," the Troll said, as David took her hand and Wilby trotted beside them, as they almost made it to the other side of the bridge when one of the Trolls grabbed Snow's cloak and pulled her back. She yelped and David was there to pull her away from them.

"What the hell? You have the gold and the ring," he growled.

"Which takes care of your passage, but not hers," The Troll growled back.

"She's with me," David growled and Snow's cheeks colored, as she felt him pull her close by hooking his arm around her waist.

"Let's see what she has to offer in this pack for us," the lead Troll hissed, as he took it and they started rifling through it.

"No…" Snow cried, as they found her pin.

"What's this?" one of the Trolls said.

"Something that no farm girl would have. This...this is of royalty," he said, as they looked up at Snow.

"Run…" David said, as he pushed her ahead of him and she did as he asked, quickly making it to the other side and then sighed in relief. The Trolls wouldn't venture much further beyond their bridge.

"We made it!" she said to Wilby and then turned back, expecting him to be there. But he wasn't.

"David?" she questioned, as she hurried back and saw that the Trolls had detained him. He was on his knees with a blade to his throat and she gasped, as the Troll prepared to kill him. And the thought of him dying made her heart shatter in a way she wasn't expecting or prepared for. But she pushed that feeling away momentarily, as she looked at the dark fairy dust that Daddy had given her. She had been saving it for King Arawn, but the thought of letting David die made her want to die. And without a second thought, she descended on the Trolls and tossed a handful of dust on two of them. Confusion marred their features for a moment, until they were reduced to harmless and rather gross looking snails. David looked up at her in shock, before taking action quickly and elbowing the Troll in the abdomen. He ducked out of the way and Snow hit him with the remaining dust, as he was doubled over. He was also reduced to a snail and he breathed heavily, as he looked at her with a warm gaze.

"You saved me…" he uttered.

"Seemed like the honorable thing to do," she responded.

"But...I know you needed that dust to save your father," he said.

"Not at the expense of your life…" she replied, as they made their way across the bridge, after he retrieved their gold and most importantly, his mother's ring.

"I...I know all of that stuff about the ring that you told the Troll was just a ruse, but I do actually care for you," she admitted.

"Except that it wasn't," he revealed.

"What?" she asked.

"It wasn't a ruse...the story behind that ring is true," he admitted.

"Oh…" she replied.

"And it has led me to you...I don't think that was an accident," he claimed, as they stared at each other for several moments, both aware of the growing tension between them.

"We need to go...it's almost dusk," she said. He nodded, as they hurried onto the castle, but were now incredibly aware of their budding feelings.

~*~

Eli saw the guards arrive at his cell and knew the time had come. He hoped and prayed that Persephone had found their daughter and was refusing to let her anywhere near this. He would gladly give his life if that were true, but he had a bad feeling that his daughter would show up and he would be forced to watch Arawn take away the only thing that mattered to him.

"It's time, Your Highness," the Knight said and if Eli didn't know any better, he could almost detect a note of sympathy in the man's voice. But they were still leading him to the gallows and the first thing he noticed upon entry to the courtyard was the bonfire that had been built with a stake in it. For Snow. These evil people had built this awful clamor of broken wood and burning material for his beautiful, precious little girl.

"King Eli…" Arawn bellowed, as he was brought before his Throne, while the Duke and Frollo sat in smaller thrones beside him.

"You have been charged with treason against your own Kingdom and sentenced to death. Have you anything to say?" Arawn questioned.

"Only that I am an ally to the Queen of the Underworld...and someday, you shall come there and will receive a fate worse than death at my hand for trying to harm my daughter. That is my promise to you," Eli hissed.

"Oh, but my promise to you is that I will do more than try to harm her. Commence with the execution!" he ordered. He was still a bit disappointed that the Princess hadn't made her presence known yet, but Frollo assured him that she would show.

Eli was led to the guillotine platform and he was placed in position. Eli's face was grim as he accepted his fate and Arawn gave the signal. The blade dropped, but suddenly changed into flowers, which fell harmlessly on Eli's head, much to everyone's surprise.

But Arawn smirked, as two figures emerged from the shadows.

"So...Persephone has returned for her former lover," Arawn stated.

"I've also come with a message for you, Your Majesty," she hissed.

"Then by all means...enlighten me," he requested.

"We are not enemies you want to make and you will call off your hunt for my daughter...immediately," she demanded.

"And if I don't?" he asked.

"Then you'll earn a trip to my domain and I will not be merciful," Hades answered.

"My, my, that is quite a threat...except that I know that your powers are not as strong here in the mortal realm," Arawn claimed.

"Oh trust me...I have enough magic here to deal with you," Hades growled.

"Me...perhaps. But I doubt you have the necessary power for your brother," Arawn claimed. Hades' brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn't have time to speak, for a blinding hot pain embedded itself in his back. Persephone cried out, as she saw one of Zeus' lightning bolts sticking out of her husband's back.

"Papa Hades!" a voice cried and the fear seized the three parents, as Snow emerged from the woods, with a young man following her. Frollo smirked evilly, as he was proven right and the guards descended upon her and the young man.

"Snow!" Eli cried.

"Snow...stay back! You have to run from here!" Persephone cried.

"Seize her!" Arawn ordered, but Snow started picking them off with arrows and David relieved one of the fallen soldiers of his sword, as he began fighting them with Snow.

But more lightning crackled from the sky, hitting the ground in a frightening display. Persephone turned her head and saw Zeus emerge from the sky.

"What have you done?!" Persephone cried, as she glared at him.

"I'm here to reign you and my demon brother in...as well as your spawn," Zeus hissed.

"Snow has done nothing...and I can prove it!" Hades growled through the pain, just as Demeter and Artemis arrived.

"This is going to hurt," Artemis warned, as she prepared to pull it with a magical hand.

"And I'm sure you'll enjoy that," he quipped.

"Still making jokes even with a lightning bolt sticking out of your back," Demeter commented with an eye roll.

"Lovely to see you too, Demeter," he commented in return and then cried out, as Artemis extracted it and Persephone used healing magic on his wound to seal it, relieving his pain. But they were immediately all stricken immobile by Zeus and Deimos' power.

"Eli...get her out of here!" Persephone cried, as he rushed to Snow and started prodding her back toward the woods, as David followed them, while fighting off more Knights. But more soldiers arrived and they were overtaken.

"Excellent...tie her to the stake!" he bellowed, as the Knights dragged her to the pile of broken wood.

"NOOOO!" David screamed, as he managed to break away from the Knights and rush to her, but he was immobilized, surprisingly Frollo. The man held a peculiar and fantastic sort of weapon like they had never seen. It was a long, cylindrical rod and it shot a beam of purple magic, which stunned them all.

"David!" Snow cried, as he fell to his knees in pain, as Frollo continued to assault him with the weapon.

"Stop!" she pleaded, as he collapsed to the ground.

"What hypocrisy is this?!" Persephone cried.

"You seek to destroy those with magic and yet you wield it yourself?" Hades accused.

"Oh, this is not magic, demon...this is science," he claimed.

"It is far superior to magic and unlike magic, it is pure of sin and evil. Science is knowledge and far superior to the disease and abomination of magic," Frollo added.

"Looks like two sides to the same coin to me," Eli commented, as he struggled with his captors, while the former Judge and now Royal Vizier made his way toward them.

The evil man felt stirrings in him that he had not felt since his lustful obsession with a gypsy woman in Kingdom of his birth. That obsession had nearly got him killed and he felt those temptations stir in him again. Snow tried to back away from him, but was not permitted to. She gasped, as he put his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him. Frollo felt the lust churn in him strongly, as her beauty entranced him.

"You really are the fairest of them all…" he commented, as she felt revulsion at his touch.

"You better get your hands off my daughter…" Eli growled, as he continued to struggle against his captors.

"Hair as black as night...lips as red as a rose...and skin white as snow," he uttered in the creepiest manner Snow had ever heard.

"You tempt in a way that I have not been tempted in a very long time, Snow White," he told her.

"But I will not let another demon lead me astray. Burn her at the stake!" he ordered, as she was tied to the stake.

"No...please don't do this!" David pleaded, as his eyes teared and his heart filled with fear for her.

"You poor boy...I see she has put you under her spell as well," he said.

"I'm not under a spell, you delusional bastard...I love her!" he shouted and then realized that he had said it aloud. He looked at Snow, whose face was aglow with surprise, sorrow, and overall happiness shining through, even as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I...I love you…" he confessed, as tears slipped down his cheeks too.

"I love you too," she confessed in return.

"This isn't fair...I can't lose you when I just found you," he cried. She sniffed, as his words positively broke her.

"Then you'll find me again...someday," she promised.

"Commence with the execution!" Frollo ordered. David and her family cried out for her and she clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the pain. But the torch that would light the bonfire beneath her was extinguished and this was followed by a high-pitched giggle. The magic suspending the Gods and Goddesses by Zeus was also released, much to Zeus and Deimos' surprise.

"What is this?!" Frollo demanded to know, but then he cried out in fright, as a small man with leathery skin was before him.

"Rumpelstiltskin…" Hades uttered, flabbergasted that the Dark One would intervene to help any of them. It was no secret that some of the Gods did not like an immortal that rivaled their powers, yet was not one of them. Rumple made his familiar hand gesture that he always did upon his introduction. David pulled away from the guards and hurried up to free Snow, quickly lifting her away from the bonfire and their eyes met, conveying the love they were now just discovering was between them.

"What is this?! Seize that creature!" Arawn ordered, referring to the Dark One, but he was alarmed to see all his soldiers suddenly turned into toads.

"Why involve yourself in this, Dark One?" Zeus demanded to know. It was uncharacteristic of the imp to intervene in the affairs of others, unless there was something in it for him.

"That's my business, bolt boy," Rumple quipped, as he turned to Persephone.

"I owe you a favor...for eliminating that contract. I'd say this makes us even," he said, revealing his reasoning, though he would have stepped in anyway, for he needed both Snow and her Charming alive and procreating. But he wasn't about to tell anyone that.

"It does. Thank you," Persephone said, as the imp disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"This isn't over…" Zeus growled.

"For today...it is and I promise you will pay dearly for what your part in trying to kill our little Snow," Demeter promised, as she whisked them all away with a snap of her fingers. Frollo seethed at their escape.

"We will never no peace until we rid ourselves of these demons!" he declared.

"Then we will do so. Perhaps not today...but this war is far from over," Arawn declared.

~*~

They reappeared in the meadow near her mother's summer cabin, which was protected by magic and they would be safe there for the time being. Snow and David stared at each other, as she was still in his arms. Stardust appeared too, thanks to Hades and stood dutifully nearby Snow and David.

"What you said…" she started to say.

"I meant it all...I love you," he confessed. She grinned.

"I love you…" she confessed again, as they realized they weren't alone.

"Daddy…" Snow said, as she rushed to hug him.

"Oh Snow...coming back for me was extremely dangerous," he chided, though it was without a firmness behind it.

"I couldn't let them kill you," she responded.

"And now you're free…" she added.

"Yes, but not safe here for long. Neither of you will be," Hades chimed in, as Snow hurried to hug him and her mother.

"But the summer cottage is protected with nana's magic, isn't it?" she asked her grandmother.

"It is sweetheart, but Arawn will stop at nothing to find you," Demeter replied.

"And now that we know Frollo is dabbling in his own type of sorcery, there is really no telling what he is capable of," Persephone added.

"But I thought Frollo said he hated magic," David chimed in.

"He claims to and also claims to use science, whether he'll admit it or not, alchemy is sorcery," Demeter clarified.

"Yes and first and foremost, he's a politician so you can count on him being rich in hypocrisy," Hades added.

"So this place will not be safe for long," Persephone agreed.

"She's right honey...we can't take any chances. The Underworld is the safest place right now, until this war can be ended," Eli agreed.

"But Papa Hades said there was proof I didn't kill the Queen?" she asked. He nodded and produced his oracle.

"I have it right here and we will attempt to show Arawn the truth. However, I'm not sure he'll believe it coming from me," Hades stated.

"We could send Apollo with the message. If Arawn will listen to any God, then it would probably be my twin," Artemis offered. Hades nodded. Apollo was well known to mortals as the averter of evil. He had stopped many wars through his prophetic abilities and most mortal laws had been created by and given to humanity by Apollo. If there was a go between for Gods and mortals, it was Apollo.

"That's a good idea," Persephone agreed. Tears filled Snow's eyes, as she looked at David, who looked sad as well.

"But...we want to be together," she cried, as she went to him.

"It's okay...you're safety is the most important thing," he replied, as he cupped her face in his hand.

"And it won't be forever…" he added.

"He's right sweetheart and you two share true love, so there will be no separating you for long," Persephone agreed.

"I don't want to say goodbye to you," she whimpered.

"Then don't...because I have faith that we'll be together soon," he replied, as they finally shared their first kiss. When their lips parted, David pressed his forehead against hers, as they attempted to memorize everything about each other in those few moments. She sniffed and looked back at her parents.

"What about you, Daddy? Where will you go?" Snow asked. Eli smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

"I'll be fine, sweet pea. Like you said, I'm free now and I can leave the Kingdom until the war ends," he responded.

"And I will see you soon too," he promised. She nodded and saw her Papa Hades wave his hand to produce two horses, one for her father and one for David to get home. She returned to the arms of her new love and they kissed again.

"I love you...and I'll find you again. I will always find you," he promised.

"I love you and I'll find you again too," she promised in return, as she joined her mother and Hades. David watched in amazement, as a three-headed dog emerged from a cleft in the Earth. The center head nuzzled Snow gently, before prodding her onto his back. Hades and Persephone got on his back as well, before he disappeared. Eli looked at the young man that was in love with his daughter and held out his hand.

"Thank you for saving her…" he said, as they shook hands.

"I love her...you don't have to thank me. I'll protect her with my life," David promised. Eli gave him a smile, before getting on his horse and riding off. David picked Wilby up and got on the one Hades had provided for him. He would return home now with an incredible story to tell his parents and he only hoped that he would soon get to introduce them to the woman he loved...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #AU #HadesxPersephone #Greek Mythology meets fairy tales #Rumbelle #Swanfire #romance #adventure #family #dreaming out loud

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justanoutlawfic · 6 years

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(I have a feeling where you’ll take this one but I love it) can I have some red Snowing/ mama ruby s2 curse broke 4. “I should have told you a long time ago.”? 💖

All the feels in this one. Aghhh, we talk about this head canon a lot, but it hurts to put it into words.

4. “I should have told you a long time ago.”

Also on AO3/FF

Ruby set her purse down and let out a sigh. Anothernight alone. She had considered Granny’s offer, about moving into the loft atthe inn, but it was small enough. They were getting along better now that thecurse was broken, but she didn’t want to rock the boat. They butted headsenough at the diner, all friendly and she hoped to keep it that way.

Her apartment was small, just enough room for one. Theway she felt she was destined to be.

Just as she was about to start making some ramen, sheheard a knock on her door. Raising an eyebrow, she walked over and opened it,finding Emma on the other side. Her heart skipped a beat, as it always didsince she gained her memories back. She had never even gotten to see Emma as ababy, but somehow she had turned out exactly as she pictured. A beautiful blendof Snow and David. Sometimes she wondered if she was imagining things when shesaw a bit of her in there as well.

They hadn’t spoken much since Emma and Snow got backfrom the Enchanted Forest. While her reunion with Snow and David had beensweet, they now remembered what she did to them. They were hurt and shecouldn’t blame them. From the look on Emma’s face, she wondered if they hadtold her about things.

“Emma, hey,” Ruby gave her a small smile. “What are youdoing here?”

“I finally sat down and read the book, all of it.”Emma pushed passed her and walked into the loft. “My parents had told me thatthe three of you were once in a relationship, but that you ended things.”

Ruby bit her lip. “It’s complicated…”

“I read the book, I know what happens.”

Emma flipped forward to the page where it showed Rubyand Blue together. Ruby flinched at the memory of that night. She had gone outto fetch some chocolate for Snow, her pregnancy cravings were growing. Blue hadconfronted her, telling her of a vision she had. If Ruby stuck around, shewould inevitably hurt Emma in wolf form. It would be an accident, but it couldlead to the princess’ death. She told Ruby that for the sake of the baby, shehad to end things with Snow and David. Ruby had hesitated, sure there was a wayto stop it from coming true.

Blue reminded her that she had killed before. Andbesides, every vision came true, even if the ending was altered a bit.

So, she had done the hardest thing ever and packed herbags that night. She told Snow and David it was for the best, that it was fortheir own good and it had nothing to do with anything they’d done. They hadn’tbelieved her, they had been so hurt. She couldn’t blame them, her own heart wasbroken.

“She lied to you,” Emma said, interrupting herthoughts.

Ruby tilted her head. “What?”

“She didn’t have that vision, she lied to break you upwith Snow and David.”

She put the book into Ruby’s hands and the latterflipped the page. Sure enough, on the next one was Blue consulting with anotherfairy, telling her that the deed was done. The kingdom was “pure” once more dueto her lie, polyamory wasn’t acceptable and it was the one way to get rid ofit.

Ruby felt like she was going to be sick. Her heartbegan to race and it took everything she had not to tear the book to shreds.Slowly, she placed it down and began to pace the room. Everything she hadbelieved, was a lie. It wasn’t the first time, Granny had done the same withher, her entire life. Another person she trusted, someone supposed to be thegood guy, had lied to her. At least Granny’s had been for her own good.

This was malicious.

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “How could she dothis?”

“I’ve been wondering why you all have trusted her fora while,” Emma said. “Between her lying about the wardrobe and now this…I don’tthink she’s exactly the hero we pictured.”

Ruby turned back to face Emma. “You have to understandwhy I did this…I had to protect you…Emma, you weren’t born yet, but I had togive you…”

“My best chance.” Emma softly smiled. “I know. Snowand I talked about it in the nursery. She and David gave me up so I could haveit, you did the same. You wanted to keep me safe, you didn’t know.”

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, abouteverything. I just knew all the issues you had with abandonment…”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to build a relationshipwith David, I already have one with Snow…kind of, it’s not the same anymoresince the curse broke. We had one too…but it can be different. I want it tobe.”

Ruby let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”

“The question is, when are you going to tell them?”

Her relief quickly drained. “Emma….”

“They’re hurt, but it’ll all make sense,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter. I left them, I didn’t even tellthem why or give them a chance to react….I just walked away.”

Emma tilted her head. “You know, Henry’s dad left me.He didn’t tell me why, I’ll probably never know.” She bit her lip. “It hurt, alot. But I still love him, I never stopped. And if he came back and had a goodexplanation for everything…who knows? I think I just may be able to forgivehim.”

“Emma…”

“You’d be surprised what people can forgive. Trustme.” She looked from the book to Ruby. “Henry said you can borrow it.”

With that, she walked outthe door, leaving Ruby alone with her thoughts.

Emma and Ruby continued to bond over the next fewweeks, with Snow and David having no idea. Emma knew that it had to be Ruby whotold them about what happened, as far as they knew she was just hanging outwith her friends. Ruby didn’t seem anywhere closer to building up the courageto tell them.

One evening, the two were sitting in a middle booth atGranny’s, enjoying grilled cheese and onion rings, chatting. It was hard forRuby to hear about all of the things Emma had been through. There were somethings that her daughter obviously didn’t think were a big deal, like sleepingin her car or dumpster diving. She knew that if Emma was opening up like thatto David and Snow, they had to be just as worried as she was.

“You bitch!” A sudden voice interrupted theirconversation and they spun around, finding Snow standing in the doorway of thediner, David beside her.

Ruby’s heart skipped a beat, worried that Snow wasabout to throw down with her. To her surprise, Snow stormed past them and to atable near the back. Emma followed her mother’s path and realized she washeading straight towards Blue. She pulled her up by the collar, anger writtenon her face. It was still a new sight for her. A part of her was still used toMary Margaret, the meek school teacher. She was long gone. The princess turnedbandit was in her place and she was not someone you wanted to mess with. Davidchased after his wife, pulling her off of the fairy.

“Snow, I want to kill her just as much as you do, butit won’t do much good,” he said.

Snow shook her head, her body trembling. Blue lookedterrified for the first time in her life and took a tiny step back. “First, youlie to us about the wardrobe! I missed out on 28 years of my daughter’s life, partiallydue to you! Now, I find out that you scared my wife off, you lied to her!”

Ruby’s eyes widened and she looked over at Emma, whoshook her head. “I didn’t, I swear.”

David put an arm around his wife, glaring at Blue.“Why would you do this to us? To Ruby? To our family? We thought we could trustyou.”

Blue sighed, shaking her head, looking over at Snow. “Youare a princess, Snow. You know the expectations that come from that. There is aking and a queen, that is it.”

“You know that David isn’t royal, yet you had no issuewith him being a prince,” Snow said.

“That was bad enough. We can’t put up with…withwhatever the hell it was you three were.”

“We were in love,” David told her. “You ruinedeverything, and for what? Your perceived ideas about how our lives should be?Here’s a bit of a newsflash for you, you may be head of the fairies, but youare not in charge of anyone else.”

Blue shook her head. “I’m doing what’s best for thekingdom.”

“No, you’re doing what’s best in your mind, howeverclosed it is.”

Blue looked around, everyone was staring and no onelooked too happy with her. She was being called out on her shit in front ofpractically the entire town. Granny walked over, wiping her hands on a dishrag.

“There’s the door,” she said, waving a hand in the direction of it. “Don’t letit hit your ass on your way out.” She watched as Blue huffed and stormed outthe door before turning to Ruby, David and Snow. “You three, breakroom.”

Ruby bit her lip. “Granny…”

“Red, go. Now. You all know you have a lot to discuss.I’ll keep an eye on Emma, make sure she doesn’t burn the place down.”

“Hey!” Emma exclaimed. “I’m 29.”

“Yes, and the last time you were here, I nearly lostmy kitchen.” She put an arm around her great-granddaughter, leading her off.

Ruby looked at Snow and David, shifting from foot tofoot. After a few beats of silence, she lead them to the break room, shuttingthe door behind them.

“How’d you find out?” She whispered.

“Henry let it slip,” David said. “You know he knowsall our stories, probably better than we do.”

“I was going to tell you. I just…I was scared.”

“You left us,” Snow spoke up, her voice soft andbroken. It was quite the contrast from how she screamed at Blue. “You walkedaway, you let her get inside your head.”

“I was trying to what was best for Emma,” Ruby said.“I was scared, it wasn’t like I hadn’t killed before. What I did to mymother…it has stuck with me ever since. If I hurt Emma, I don’t think I couldlive with myself.”

“You don’t think I could’ve helped you? You…you don’tthink we could’ve gotten to the bottom of it all? You really didn’t believe inus?”

“I did believe in you!” Ruby exclaimed, the tearsgathering in her eyes. She took a deep breath, her voice cracking when shespoke again. “I just didn’t believe in me.”

David rubbed the back of his neck. “I can see why youdid what you did. It still hurts, but I get it. Why didn’t you tell us when youfound out? Why wait?”

“I knew I hurt you two, I wasn’t sure how much itwould matter. At the end of the day, I left.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know ifyou could forgive me. I already thought that you wouldn’t, but if it wasconfirmed…well that’d hurt worse.”

David and Snow were quiet for another moment, lookingfrom each other and back at Ruby. They remembered every kiss, every time theymade love. Their wedding day, or days really. Every single happy moment andevery victory they shared. They remembered the day she left. Snow cried forweeks and David tried to be the strong one, but would break down whenever hewas alone.

It hurt to lose her, it hurt even more to get theirmemories back and have them hit them like a ton of bricks. They hadn’t evenknown why and now they did. That stupid fairy had ruined their happiness for solong.

Could they stand to let her do it for another minute?

Snow noticed something hanging between Ruby’s tank andflannel top. She stepped forward and pulled out the chain, finding the ruby ringshe had given her on their wedding day. It had once belonged to Eva, just asSnow’s ring had to Ruth’s. She looked up at her, tears in her eyes.

“You still have this?”

Ruby slowly nodded. “I never let it go.”

David softly smiled, walking closer to the women. “We’renot going to work this out in one afternoon…but we can…in time.”

Snow nodded. “David’s right.”

“To start…you could start crashing on our couch.”

“That couch is uncomfortable,” Ruby mumbled, rememberingit from the few times she visited “Mary Margaret’s” loft during the curse.

“We’ll get an air mattress then. “

“This is really what you want?”

Snow rubbed her arm. “Rubes, all we’ve ever wanted isyou. We never stopped loving you and we never will. We found our way once, wecan again.”

50 Dialogue Prompts

List of the ones I’ve already done.

#red snowing #red snow #red charming #snowing #mama ruby #prompt #loboselinaistrash #asked and answered

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zabinizara · 4 years

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And I will roar into the heavens that those who will raise a hand against me shall perish in the attempt. And I will roar into the heavens that I am a force to be reckoned with, and those who can not recognize that will be taught.

Don’t you think ZARA ZABINI looks a lot like ZOE KRAVITZ? Apparently SHE is PROTECTIVE and INTUITIVE but can also be RUTHLESS and SELF-SERVING. They are TWENTY-FIVE and were sorted into SLYTHERIN. The HALF-BLOOD (PART-VEELA) is affiliated with THE DEATH EATERS works as a POTIONEER, and lives in CHELSEA, LONDON. (blossom, 24, MST, she/her)

AESTHETICS :

Liquid silver dripping into a dark green bottle, a pet boa constrictor lovingly cared for, shattered tea cups, keeping secrets so tightly to your chest they wind around your heartstrings, a stack of diamond rings, black lace lingerie worn under a stark white wedding dress, smeared red lipstick, soft moans, power - endless and consuming power, emeralds, thigh high boots, bleach burning your nose, crocodile tears, lipstick on a cigarette, ballet shoes.

HEADCANONS :

O N E ;; Zara is bisexual and biromantic. She will develop feelings for anyone deserving of those feelings and she’s not quiet about it. In fact, in the halls of Hogwarts, she would be seen holding hands with men and women alike.

T W O ;; According to the Veela Wikipedia page, the powers only work on men. This is the reason Zara has so many female friends. She can’t trust that men are around her because they’re interested in her or if they’re interested in the supernatural beauty she exudes. She feels her dynamic with women to be much more genuine.

T H R E E ;; Her Veela mother was the first one to show her power in its truest form. While Monique Zabini loved her husband, she did not love the men who ogled at the two of them. She with her dark skin and he with that of a porcelain dish. It came to a cusp when Zara and her mother were walking and a man made a deplorable comment about helping her make another light-skinned child. In a flash Monique, her beautiful and effervescent mother, became a monster. And, as quickly as it had begun, it had ended. She was herself once more, her silk dress now stained with blood. “Zara,” her mother had whispered to her that evening, braiding the child’s coarse hair. “You are never to allow a man to treat you as anything less than holy.” Zara's large eyes glanced at her mother through the reflection. “Yes, Mother.” And you know what they say. A monster is as a monster does.

F O U R ;; Her skin color has been the one thing Zara has yet to embrace. With her (literally) enchanting beauty, she’s never known what it is that truly, genuinely draws people in if it’s not her Veela abilities. Growing up, her ideals of beauty were her mother - dark skin the color of the pure silt running through the river beside her house - and the friends her mother brought around - skin as white as the snow that fell on the grass beside her house. She was neither, and when she looked in the mirror she wondered where she would ever fit. In her Hogwarts house, forced to hide her heritage to not become the enemy - in public, forced to decide whether she was more black or more white. Couldn’t she just be Zara?

MISC :

boggart ;; her father as an Inferius. she knows he and her mother are her only two weak spots (until her son is born) and that if her father were to face her again, that would be the only thing to cause her to falter in battle.

patronus ;; an acromantula, the giant spider crawls up the walls and fends off Dementors. this is her Patronus because she is as venomous and unforgiving as the creatures, though their loyalty can be won - as can hers.

favorite spell ;; Cruciatus Curse

amortentia ;; the French countryside when it’s raining, her favorite bakery in Italy and lavenders

wand ;;

—- wood ; cedar wood | The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.

—- core ; Veela hair

—- length ; 10 inches

playlist ;; [ HERE ]

pinboard ;; [ HERE ]

BIOGRAPHY :

*TW FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT, DEATH OF A FAMILY MEMBER, PREGNANCY AND MURDER*

When Zara was born, her father’s eyes sparkled. A tear rolled down his cheek, and her mother - with a tired arm - reached to wipe it clear. “She’s beautiful,” he had whispered. “She’s our little miracle,” her mother had agreed.

Her face was perfect, even moments after birth. Drawing the nurses and doctors to wonder at her face in awe, astonished by the newborn’s beauty. She was just shy of one hour old and her existence was already cause for conversation. She grew up comfortably, in a large home right on a river in Scotland. Her father doted on both she and her mother, arriving home with flowers for both of them for no specific occasion. Simply for being his world, he’d told them. He was everything Zara wanted to find in a man - one to grow old with.

She was ten years old when her father didn’t come home from work one evening. Just old enough to understand what the Aurors meant when they said he’d been found, dead in an alley with his wallet missing. Her father had been taken from her over thirty Galleons, and he would never see her grow up. Monique was inconsolable, and therefore not of much help to her daughter as she struggled through the process alone. One day, things changed. Monique was done crying, she was there to braid Zara’s hair again.

“What did you do, Mama?,” Zara asked. “I didn’t let a man treat my family as anything less than holy.” She had said almost the same thing years ago, walking away from the scene in a blood stained dress. She was exuding emotion. Not just emotion. Justice. Not just justice. Revenge.

Zara longed for a taste of revenge.

Her beauty, the inescapable attention it brought, made it nearly impossible for her to be sure whose intentions were pure. She had a hard time trusting her heart in the hands of the ravenous boys who roamed the halls of Hogwarts. Or anywhere for that matter. And in Fifth Year her tentative spirit around them was proven correct as a man two years her elder held her down, silencing her cries for help. The next day he mysteriously lost his footing off of a ledge in the Astronomy Tower. Zara gave what happened to her no credit to turning her into what she had become. No, she would never give the pain someone had put her through the privilege of being the reason she was strong. She was the reason she was strong. She’d learned from a young age that to be strong was to be untouchable - and god help the person who dared to touch her.

The taste of power it gave her satiated the hunger for revenge that had been aching in her chest for years. She had come out on top. She would never let anyone hurt her again, and she finally felt whole. It was borderline sociopathic behavior, and despite knowing that, she continued her warpath, tearing through the halls radiating an energy only fools would choose to go up against.

Her time came when a recruiter of the Dark Lord approached her - her first husband. A wealthy man who she drew in with her charms, her beauty, her enchanting voice. Then, when she was high enough in Voldemort’s ranks - much more useful than her husband, of course - he found himself at the wrong end of a poisoned tea. She liked the way he writhed in pain beneath her. What they had had never been love. But still, she wiped away crocodile tears as they buried him, treating herself to a new necklace the next day.

She is powered by power. And men came to her, desperate to know what she might taste like. Women, too, only they never found themselves clawing at their own throats as fire tore through them from the inside out. She was gentle with women, allowed them in and out of her Venus Fly Trap as they pleased. A Black Widow, they called her. She liked it. She liked the sound of the venom behind the name she had been given.

Another husband came and went. A Pureblood she met while visiting her mother in France. It wasn’t long before he, too, met his end. Although she waited until he had given her a child and she knew she could secure another fortune before his… untimely death. Her hunger for revenge may have been satiated, but with every sip of power that she’s gotten over the years, the thirst becomes stronger.

#musings.#about.#intro.

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ink-splotch · 7 years

Note

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

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calamity-writes · 7 years

Text

Eh 27.3 Endgame

Cast: Haylan ( @siriusdraws ), Rythlen Theirin ( @picchar ), Milliara (me!) Theseus Trevelyan (@perditionxroad), Peanut Adaar ( @cupcakelogic ), Fiowyn ( @shyquisitor )

Guest appearance: Karya and Aldes ( @kingsdragonage ), Kenslynn ( @megan-mayhem ), the DuMarcs ( @fangrl-esque )

~4600 words, Rated R for violence and language

Fiowyn - Skyhold

Fiowyn stood stock still, holding Nils behind her with one hand, while the other stretched out toward the woman that stood between her and the exit. Tall, regal and imposing, the so-called First Enchanter had pressed her lips together primly at Fi’s refusal to hand over the boy.

“You’re only making this harder for everyone involved, dear,” the woman said with a small sigh. “Here you are, pitifully defenceless and rather drunk, and you plan to stand against me?”

Fiowyn took a deep breath, trying to keep her eyes on the woman with the weird horned hat as she turned to speak to over her shoulder to Nils.

“Nils, sweetie,” she said calmly. “Why don’t you crawl under Mamae’s bed for now? I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come out. Until then, cover your ears and close your eyes okay?”

Nils gave her hand a squeeze and scrambled under the four post bed. It was huge, and it would keep Nils away from any blowback or spells. Fi didn’t doubt that the mage had the upper hand, but she couldn’t -wouldn’t- just hand Nils over so some prissy Orlesian woman.

“A poor decision, darling,” Vivienne said with a sigh. “The boy needs a proper education and he’ll get one despite his mother’s misguided opnions on the matter. Such a shame she went… native with you lot,” she said, voice icy. She flicked her grip on the staff she held and a blast of force struck Fiowyn square in the chest, knocking her back to the floor by the bed.

“I would stay down if I were you, dear,” Vivienne said. Through the ringing in her ears, Fi heard the woman’s heels click on the floor, approaching where she lay and where Nils hid just a arm’s length away.

Fiowyn looked over at the boy, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands over his ears like she’d told him. Something glinted by him, and Fi said a silent prayer of thanks to whichever of the Creators fuelled Millie’s paranoia. stuck to the slats of the bedframe was a pistol.

“Whatever it is you think you’re going to do,” Vivienne said, “Don’t.” Fiowyn watched the mage lower the head of her staff until it pointed directly at Fi’s nose. The tip started to glow, and the hairs along Fi’s arms prickled with static.

“Say goodbye to your nephew, darling.”

Theseus - Winter Palace

Another night and Theseus would have let the questions go. Another night, when his… his… when whatever Milliara was to him, hadn’t killed her ex. When she wasn’t trying to shut him out for no reason. When his blood wasn’t flush with lyrium thrumming with every beat of his heart. He tried to shake the questions off but they chewed at the back of his mind, fuelled by Lyrium.

It was one of those lesser known side effects, like losing your memory after several decades of use. The Chantry didn't tell you the rush Lyrium gave you until your first draught. They let you feel the way it made you bolder, less afraid, and told you it was for when you had to face down abominations and blood mages who would sooner show you your own spine than listen to reason. Whether it was truly the Maker giving him courage or just a chemical reaction tot he lyrium, it didn't matter. The effect was the same. The thrum of the drug in his veins pushed and pushed at the questions until he couldn't take it any more.

Three long strides took him up to where Milliara was stalking forward, muttering to Rythlen.

“Millie, talk to me. Please,” he said, reaching for her arm. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell me what happened. Did he hurt you? Did he-”

She flinched away from him, yanking back from his hand. The flash of fear in those silver eyes cut deeper than any words she might have flung his way. He’d never done anything to hurt her, never. Did she still think he would? She'd said she trusted him, but that was before she'd chosen the bastard Chevalier to watch her back. Now Rousseau had hurt her, forced Milliara to kill him. He might have deserved it, but if Theseus had been there, if he knew what happened maybe he could help... somehow.

“Don’t,” Milliara growled up at him. “Don’t push this right now, Theseus.”

Looking up at him, he watched Milliara put on a mask of anger to hide the fear. She didn’t have to, not around him, didn't she know that? It wasn't as though they were in the middle why did she try to hide that she was just human? Theseus winced internally at the phrase.

He realised Milliara was squinting at him, eyes flicking back and forth as she stared at his face. It took him a heartbeat to realise what she was staring at. He had forgotten she had such good eyesight in the dark. With her eyes, she'd be able to see that his pupils were still contracted to points,

“Are you… high?” She hissed.

“Lyrium doesn't make you 'high',” Theseus said, frowning.

“You- you took lyrium. What, here?” she asked, eyes wide. “Why would you take lyrium here? For all you know someone could have poisoned it, or worse, corrupted it with that red crap!”

“You’re being unreasonable,” he snapped back. He'd thought she was over this. He needed the lyrium to be effective in combat. She'd said she trusted him. Looks like she didn't anymore. “I took it so I could protect you. We don’t know what we’re facing out here, and you kept leaving me behind-”

“I almost lost you at Adamant. I wasn't going to lose you here.” Milliara jabbed a finger into his chestplate. Her glowing vallaslin flickered angrily in time with what would be her pulse. Theseus knew she was truly angry now, but so was he. The only thing that stopped him from raising his voice was her admission that she'd been scared for him, not of him.

Shit.

"Millie I'm sorry," he started to say. She didn't give him a chance to continue. Grabbing his chestplate, she pulled him down to her eye level.

“But this is bigger than you, and bigger than me and bigger than Fred. If I have to cut through you too because you were a dumbass and took lyrium in the fucking Orlesian-godsdamn-court, I will. I’ve done it once and I’ll do it again.”

Milliara let go and smacked his hand away as Theseus reached out to stop her, to try to smooth things over. She'd done it once? Did that mean when she'd been at Redcliffe she'd killed whatever she thought had been him? Or did that mean she'd killed Fred, and wouldn't hesitate to kill him too?

“Trevelyan, take Dorian and find Leliana and Cullen. Tell her what happened. Ry, Solas, New guy, we’re going Duchess-hunting.”

“Mil-”

“That was an order, Knight,” she snarled over her shoulder. “Move your ass.”

Theseus watched her stalk away, unable to meet Rythlen’s eyes as she glanced back with an empathetic face. Instead he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

He had his orders. He hated them, but he had his orders.

‘I’ve done it once, and I’ll do it again’.

“I thought we were past that,” he muttered to himself, then turned to scowl at Dorian.

“Don’t look at me,” Dorian said, holding his hands up in defence. “I did try to tell you to drop it.” The Altus clicked his tongue. “But really, trusting Lyrium here to be untampered with? I hope you’re right and it was untouched.”

Theseus shook his head, starting towards the doors that would lead towards the main ballroom.

“I mean, in Minrathous you’d already be dead by now, but I hope you’re right.”

“You didn’t need to add that part, Dorian,” Theseus said over his shoulder.

“Hm. I suppose you’re right. Well, let’s go save an Empire, shall we?”

Maeve - Winter Palace

Everything happened so fast.

The Empress approached the dias and microphone to address the crowd and had yet to even say anything when the doors to the ballroom burst open and militants with harlequin patterns on their armor strode into the crowd, rifles raised and voices shouting for everyone to get onto their knees and put their hands behind their heads.

Cullen and Maeve both reacted on instinct. He punched the nearest bard, grabbing and twisting the gun from the man’s grip. Maeve slammed her glass into the woman behind him’s throat, grabbing the rifle and pointing it to the cieling and away from the civilians and nobles.

The masqued woman squeezed off a spatter of shots on reflex, the bullets punching into the gilded moulding of the ballroom cieling, sending chunks of plaster and dust falling down onto the screaming people below.

Gritting her teeth, Maeve grabbed the woman by the collar and twisted, throwing her over her hip and to the hard floor. Viciously, she yanked the rifle free and squeezed off a burst into the bard’s chest.

“Get to the Empress,” Cullen was shouting. Maeve could hardly hear him over the screams. But behind him there was another bard, there were too many. She couldn’t leave him and lose him like she’d lost-

Maeve grabbed Cullen’s lapels, twisting and throwing herself between him and the bard. She felt the first bullet punch into her back, tracing a line of fire through her that bloomed into white static in her chest. The other two shots were distant thuds, a hand pounding her back as she choked on the hot froth that bubbled up her throat.

“Maeve?” Cullen sounded so scared. She tried to cup his jaw, but her hands weren’t working right. “MAEVE?!”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I couldn’t let- I’m sorry.” Her lips were still moving, but they were numb now, her whole body cold and numb aside from the trails of fire through her chest. “I love you.”

Warm arms wrapped around her, and Maeve smiled.

Cullen was always so warm...

Milliara - Winter Palace

“Soo...” the new guy said, keeping up as Millie and the others jogged around towards the balcony that jutted out into the courtyard from the head of the ballroom. It was where the peacetalks were to take place, an oasis from the crush of nobles and where the true business of Ruling Orlais was done.

It was also a back way in that Florianne wouldn’t expect.

“What,” Milliara said, turning through the maze of trellises and hedges. She wasn’t stopping, they’d wasted too much time already.

“Do you two always argue? Not that I'm complaining, it makes missions more entertain-”

“Get to the point or stop talking,” Millie said.

To his credit, the new guy took direction well. He coughed awkardly but let the poor attempt at banter drop. Theseus could learn a thing or two about that, Milliara thought bitterly. She'd said not now, and she'd fucking meant it. This wasn't the time or the place to talk about feelings.

"May I have a weapon before we find the Duchess? Pretty please?” Galaren asked. "Unfortunately her men took mine before-"

Without looking behind or slowing down, Milliara pulled the handgun from the small of her back and held it out to the side for the New Guy to take.

“Just take the gun,” she said, biting back a sigh. "And try not to shoot anyone wearing black."

Milliara felt him take the weapon and heard the click as he checked the magazine. At least he knew that much. Whatever witty reply he might have had was cut off by the stutter of small arms fire that ripped through the night air.

“Shit,” Milliara said, breaking into a run. The balcony was just ahead, with the trellis she remembered still there. Bless the void for small favours, Milliara leapt up onto the wooden lattice, climbing up it as fast as she could. Inside the ballroom there was screaming and more gunfire until a familiar voice spoke on the sound system.

“Lords, Ladies, dear Orlesians,” Florianne said. “Welcome with me an end to the corruption of Orlais, an end to the infighting and pointless Civil War. Welcome with me the reign of the only true God, the Elder One!”

Leaping from the trellis to the balcony, Milliara landed and rolled on the flagstones, absorbing the worst of the sound. She crept forward, bent low to hide behind the feast table that stood between her and the ballroom until she reached it’s edge. Peering around it, she could see Florianne standing next to a kneeling Gaspard and Celene. Each had a Bard in armor standing behind them with a handgun pointed at the back of their heads.

“Mother fuckers,” Milliara breathed. She glanced over at Ry, and signalled she was going in. They’d have to catch up, there was no time to waste.

With no gun –damnit New Guy– she was limited with what she had to work with. Millie peered at the top of the table, plucking two cheese knives from the spread and tucked them into her belt.

She took a breath in and held it, letting it out as she stepped out from behind the table and launched her two daggers at the gunmen. There would be others, and a knive thrown was a knife you couldn’t count on getting back.

The first gunman stumbled with a cry, the gun falling from his hand. The second grunted, legs buckling underneath him as the superheated blade of Milliara’s dagger bit through the back of his neck. She didn’t stop to watch if the blade had paralysed him or not. Pulling to stolen cheese knives free from her belt, she ran them over the spongey pouch at her hip, coating them in poison. If they weren’t already, this was Orlais after all.

The attendees at the ball gasped as Millie appeared from the darkness of the balcony. Milliara twisted, slamming her foot into the head of the injured gunman and knocking him over and away from Celene.

Behind her, Milliara could hear the others landing on the balcony, and she felt the cool prickly of magic settle around her shoulders. Solas, she guessed, but in the thick of things, it could be anyone who’d cast the spell. Millie just open it was a friendly spell and not a malicious one.

“You are as stubborn as ever,” Florianne said, lips peeling back from her teeth. “But before you move further, let me ask you: how much do you love your son?” Milliara froze, cheese knives in each hand. The chill she felt may well have been ice water poured down her spine.

//Never let them see you bleed,/ she reminded herself. The next words were unbearable, but she said them because she had to, because if she didn’t, she’d give up what was most precious to his… hyena in silks.

“I don’t,” Milliara lied. “I would have thought you’d understand bargaining chips, Florianne. Keeping Nils meant keeping Frederic in line.” She forced her lips into a smile with too much teeth, even as she prayed to the void that Nils was safe. Skyhold was remote, it was patrolled and Fiowyn, Peanut and the others were there. Nils had to be safe. “Of course now that Fred is out of the picture… he’s a child as any other.”

Florianne hesitated. It was only a flutter of doubt but Milliara saw it in the Duchess’ eyes before she turned to face the crowd. The courtiers, sharks one and all, caught it too. Blood was in the water, and it wasn’t the Inquisitior’s.

“I don’t believe you,” Florianne said, gesturing up toward the screens hung around the dias. They flickered and cut away from a shot of Florianne to an image of the inside of Milliara’s rooms at Skyhold. More specifically, the floor where Fiowyn lay on one of he rugs that had been brought in at Josephine’s insistance. Nils liked to run his toy ships along the curling vines woven into it.

Now, Milliara watched as her cousin stared up at whoever was wearing the camera. A staff was outstretched toward Fiowyn’s face, crackling with energy. The camera spun, knocked off balance and Milliara caught a glimpse of dark manicured hands reaching out and throwing a ball of energy towards the two figures that now stood in the doorway. The audio crackled and popped, static and shouts of surpise as a Very Angry Qunari who was wearing a ruffly pink apron and bows on her horns, charged. Kalieth behind her was shouting, but whatever it was that she said was lost in the static and feedback.

The camera tumbled, bouncing and rolling to the side to show Peanut haul Vivienne to her feet and physically throw her into a wall.

“Hmm,” Milliara said, placing her hands on her hips. “This is going really well for you, Florianne.”

Vivienne tried to rally, reaching into the ether and pulling out a glowing blade to slash at Peanut. But a shimmering barrier sprung up, sending the blade skidding off harmlessly.

From underneath the bed, a small face and hand could be seen, and Milliara’s heart swelled up painfully as she realised her son had helped to protect his tutor. She swallowed hard, trying to regain the cold mask of indifference. It was too late.

“Don’t love him hm?” Florianne said, smug. She reached up to her collar and pulled at the butterflies there. Whatever magic or engineering had held the dress together released, letting silks fall to the floor. Underneath she wore light armor, similarly painted in ugly harlequin red and white. Orlesians.

“Look,” Milliara said, giving up on the pretense of indifference. “You’re not going to win this, Florianne. Surrender now, and I’ll let you live. You tried a play and it failed. There’s no shame in admitting you lost.”

“No shame?” Florianne asked, placing a hand to her breastbone in shock. “In losing to an elf? Please, I would rather die, rabbit.”

Milliara felt her lip twitch up into a sneer at the slur.

“That can be arranged. How about a duel? One on one. The winner takes the game tonight and the other’s life.” Milliara glanced out at the crowd, eyes scanning and catching key faces. Leliana, Josephine, Alistair were all there. Accounted for. If she could minimize losses, if she could just keep this from getting worse-

“Hm,” Florianne said, tapping a finger against her lips. “No.”

The Grand Duchess pulled her other hand around from her hip, now holding a handgun similar to those her henchmen had held before Milliara had incapacitated them. Instead of dodging to the side, Milliara threw herself forward. The gun flashed, bucking twice in Florianne’s hand before the elf was on her. Cheese knives or no, they were sharp and coated in the strongest poison Milliara had been able to make earlier that day.

The broader of the two slammed into the crook of Florianne’s elbow, slicing through the thin material there to bite into flesh. The poison was fast acting, not lethal but enough to disorient, and hopefully enough to turn the odds into Milliara’s favour. She had, after all, brough cheese knives to a gunfight. Not one of her best moments, she knew.

Florianne’s spare hand snapped into a hard punch to Milliara’s face, splitting the skin over her left eye. The hot blood that poured out stung her eye, and Milliara squeezed it shut to keep it from distracting her. But the hit had been enough to dislodge her grip on the Duchess. A sharp kick send Millie sprawling back onto the marble floor for the second time that night, and she wheezed and rolled back onto all fours.

Bright bolts of energy arced over her head and slammed into the Duchess, sending her staggering back. And Rythlen, beautiful, warrior queen that she was, charged forward and slammed the edge of her shield into the Duchess’s stupid masqued face. Florianne toppled, arms flailing at her face, now shattered by the Warden Queen’s strike. Hands were helping Milliara up, but he Inquisitor didn’t take her eyes off Florianne. The Duchess had let out a garbled cry for help, but her agents weren’t coming to her rescue.

Spitting blood from her mouth, Milliara snatched up the thermobladed dagger from where it was still buried in the gunman’s neck. With three strides, she was by Rythlen. The Queen sliced low with her sword, taking the Duchess out at the knee. Milliara, aching and exhausted, stepped forward and slashed her dagger down into Florianne’s exposed throat. Red sprayed out onto both Millie and Ry, staining pale skin. It was the second time tonight, but this time Milliara didn’t feel sick as she watched the body slump to the floor. This time she just felt relieved.

Looking up at the crowd below them, she saw that the guests had risen up and overpowered the Harlequins. Alistair and the Starkhaven Prince now held rifles and fallen agents lay by their feet in slowly spreading pools of blood.

“I really…” Miliara wheezed, bending over and bracing a hand against the railing of the balcony they stood on. Her chest was aching and she realised that one of the bullets had struck her chest armor, bruising already hurt ribs. “I really missed this.” She offered a half-smile to Rythlen.

“Bullshit,” Ry said, sheathing her sword and deactivating her shield. “You’re hurt. Let’s get you sitting down and have someone take a look at you.”

Milliara debated a smartass remark, but by the time she had anything half-way decent she had Ry on one side of her and the New Guy on the other, helping her out to the night air where the negotiations and feasting table still stood, relatively undisturbed.

“So, is every mission like this?” Galaren asked, helping Ry ease Milliara down into a chair. It was upholstered in white velvet and Millie took a deep, perverse, pleasure in knowing she’d stain it beyond all saving. Fuck Orlais. The only good things here were the music, the coffee and the cakes.

“Yes,” Milliara said, leaning her head back against the chair and closing her eyes. She winced as cool hands touched her forehead, just above the cut on her brow.

“Apologies,” Solas murmured. “I can help ease the swelling but it will take some time to heal. I do not have the skills that Enchanter Haylan does when it comes to medical arts.”

Milliara heard the swish of skirts approaching them, along with a delicate clearing of a throat. Reluctantly opening her non-blood covered eye, she looked past Solas to where Celene and Gaspard now stood. To their credit, neither one looked as though they’d just had their lives threatened. Calm, composed, the dust was even gone from Gaspard’s knees.

“We owe you a great deal, Inquisitor,” Celene said. “You have saved our life, and exposed a plot to drown our Empire in chaos. Yet, we still must resolve the matter of the Orlesian Civil war, or tonight’s sacrifices will all be for nothing, non?”

“Briala and Gaspard both were aware of the plot and tried to turn it to their advantage,” Milliara said, gesturing with her hand towards Galaren. “He can attest to Gaspard’s role.”

She watched the Empress feign horror and had to resist rolling her eyes at the display.

“But-” Milliara said before Celene could demand Gaspard’s head. “The Inquisition requests that you don’t kill Gaspard. Just exile, he can serve with the Inquisition until the Magister Corypheus is defeated then go off to… fuck, wherever,” she said, waving her hand vaguely. “Just not Orlais.”

Celene huffed, but nodded gracefully.

“As a favour, we grant this request in face of all you have done for us tonight, now, if you will excuse us, we need to see to clearing up this mess. Guards, escort our dear cousin Gaspard to the Inquisition forces, and fetch a healer for the Lady Inquisitor.”

Washing off the blood and grime of the night was cathartic, even though the cut on her forehead stung when water touched it, Milliara had stood with her head under the shower head for a full minute, just to feel the water wash off all traces of Fred and Florianne.

If she’d been allowed a choice, Milliara would have stayed in that shower for the rest of the night. It was safe and quiet, and most importantly away fromm qyestions about what had happened with Fred. Reluctantly, she’d dried off and fixed her hair and makeup in the guest suite Celene had given to them to use. Rythlen had already finished and now was pulling on her gown again.

“Rather impressively, casualties were low tonight,” Leliana said, standing by the door with her arms crossed at her waist. She’d arrived while Milliara was in the shower, and waited until she’d finished drying off to start the debriefing. “However, Cullen is… despondent. Maeve did not survive despite the best efforts of Celene’s healers.”

Milliara was quiet at that, and glanced down at her right palm, where the Anchor’s scar glowed green on her hand. In another universe, had things worked out differently? Would she be the one who had died tonight, and Maeve who had survived to save Orlais?

“Who else?” Milliara asked, standing slowly from her seat at the vanity and crossing to where her change of clothes hung from the closet door.

“A few minor nobles, Frederic of course, and the serving staff. We discovered Briala’s body in the front garden, whether she’d been attempting to escape or help the Empress, we will never know”

“Millie,” Rythlen asked, perched on the edge of the bed. “Are you doing okay? With everything that happened tonight…”

Her first reaction was to snap at Ry, tell her that she was fine. But, she wasn’t. And Milliara had had enough lying to friends for one night.

“No,” she admitted, unzipping the garment bag and pulling out the dress inside. It was white, simplly cut but embroidered with glimmering beads. Like her suit, the dress had a plunging neckline, and was slit up the centre to allow her to move easily. It was a far cry from the confections Fred used to dress her up in. Thank the Void for that.

“I’m not, but, I will be eventually,” Milliara admitted after a moment. She winced, pulling on the dress gingerly over the bruises that had started to bloom along her ribs and back. "Right now, I just want to try to enjoy what's left of the night. The food and wine and music and maybe listening to that Starkhaven Prince talk about anything."

Leliana smiled. "He does have a charming voice, doesn't he?" the bard said. "I'll tell our people to keep an eye on you and to fend off the suitors."

Milliara paused in the middle of pinning on the Inquisition broach and looked over at Leliana in horror.

"What... suitors..." she asked carefully.

Leliana just smiled, and opened the door.

"Go on, enjoy yourselves," she said. "I'll manage the rest of the evening so you two can relax. I suggest trying some of the petit fours, they're quite delicious."

Milliara watched Leliana slip out the door, then looked to Rythlen. Tall and strong, the elf wondered how the Queen managed this, the life of ruling and court and everthing. Every day.

"Hey... Ry?" She said quietly. "Thank you. For being here." For being a friend. "It means a lot to me."

#Entropic Horizons #Endgame #Milliara #Theseus #Rythlen #Fiowyn #Peanut #Kalieth #FRANNNNDSHIP

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cometladyicarus-blog · 7 years

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Before They Were Wardens - Solona

Of these I have written right now (Still working on Theron, Serada and Darrian of my Wardens in this set right now), Solona’s the darkest. I found this darkness fitting for a Kirkwall origin for the Human Mage origin, and it is a major point where I have refit some of the canon backstory in terms of when certain events happen due to the vague information available and my own faulty memories at times.

There are minor characters death, though we don’t get to see the characters well enough to get to know them for himself, and it introduces an idea I’ve got in my head about some of the magic that was expanded by DA2.

Originally this story bit was me trying to imagine what being a mage originally from Kirkwall might be like for Solona Amell. Solona is also my favorite of my Wardens because, well, Arcane Warrior is awesome. This is also why her segment is the longest of the ones I’ve written, and a part could also fit into another character’s segment.

And I really wish Inquisition’s Advanced Classes were options in Origins.

“What? The tale of how Warden Natia Brosca joined the carta isn’t impressive enough for you? Well, fine. Here’s the tale of Solona Amell, now I’ve been lucky, or unlucky as it may be, to get to live where her tale starts. I’ve also had a rare chance to actually hear about these events from her herself, in a roundabout way.”

The storyteller sighed and flipped a coin. “I guess I’ll tell the truth as well as I know it, and fill in the blanks based on the Amell I met long after the events took place. But I’ve seen where she starts, and even as a youth, that place unnerved me.”

Odd things happened around her. Always have. She had a way with making the morning fires start when they were forgotten in the night and helped the servants keep warm and employed. In the summer, she always drank cool water, even when the next glass had lukewarm water. If things crashed into her, she healed quickly.

Yes, strange things, small strange things. Not important strange things. Things no one gave a second thought to because they were so small. So small, they could be easily missed.

And then she would look an adult in the eye and give a bright sky gray look that seemed to lay claim to knowledge she didn’t have. Couldn't have. Her eyes seemed to have a slight brightness that couldn't change with dimming light. Suspicion dispersed among her family’s peers when her older brother joined the Templars of Kirkwall. A Templar would know if she were … or if she were just an unsettling child.

She was going to turn ten the day after he went missing. She went to the Chantry, to the Gallows, to the Viscount's Keep to find him. No one knew he was missing until the family started looking for him. His Templar gear was stored away for the end of his shift, he left the Gallows as he did every evening.

She took his armor and sword to the Chantry. She prayed the Maker would keep her brother safe. Her mother found her in the pews reciting Trials and in the company of a pair of concerned Templar Knights. With a family as old and powerful as hers, him being kidnapped for ransom was very possible. Two Amell children going missing within Kirkwall would be disastrous.

In a moment of doubt, she pulled his armor on. Just as if he were with her in the Chantry, protecting her and Kirkwall from evil mages and helping the good ones in the armor. Her brother's brothers-in-arms removed their helmets and gave her a smile mid-chant.

She refused to go home, not until her brother was found safe. The Templars promised to keep her company in her prayers.

She stayed in the Chantry the entire day, too worried to bring herself to eat. The Sisters and Revered Mother offered what words they could and tried to coax her to at least eat some bread and drink some water. She turned down the offer of food and drink, suggesting them for the Templars with her instead.

Afternoon bled into the darkness of night. The Sisters and Grand Cleric turned in for the night long before, but still the girl sang the Chant with her Templar guards. The final bell of the day chimed to announce only mere minutes were left for the date. A mouse scurried past the Templars and the noble girl.

The doors swung open with a chill. The moans caught her and the Knights’ attention. The red firey mass moved slowly, groaning and hissing while the surface it moved on burned. She ran down the steps, armed with a book of the Chant as the Templars drew their weapons and shield.

The mass stopped just out of range.

“Little… sister?” The voice was distorted, ringing as familiar, though unplaced in identity. The mass reached around its neck and tossed a necklace towards her. “Brothers, little sister, end me.”

She walked to the necklace and stopped at the Templar's Amulet of Andraste, on the bottom it had been engraved IA. “What?” She picked it up and turned it over to see the family sigil. Her heart sank as she realized who the thing had been.

“Now, before-” He was cut off with a scream from within.

“Abomination? But he's no ma-” The shield-bearing Templar died with a red arm, blade, thing piercing his chest. His brother-in-arms was thrown by the other.

The thing that had once been her brother moved towards her. She took the dead Templar's sword into her hand, using her other hand to keep balance on the flat of the blade.

“You are not my brother.”

“Yes, rage. More.” She felt a pull on her soul as she snarled.

“No! Begone!” She pulled back, and swore she felt her brother stand with her, making the sword lighter so she could use it with one hand. A bright blue glow pulsed on the ground.

She stepped towards the thing and pierced where a neck would have been. She screamed and slammed the sword against the burning body as it broke before the blade.

The blue glow grew in size until the body was little more than gore and stain. She stepped back to wear the necklace in a foggy moment she could control her limbs. She didn’t see the blue glow fade away, or the place her brother begged for death at set itself aflame. The flames froze when there was nothing left to burn.

The sound of her heartbeat faded as she vaguely heard someone scream and someone else shout directions that became clearer with every panicked breath she took.

The Chantry sisters and Revered Mother helped the surviving Knight stand as she was wrapped into a blanket, armor of a confirmed to be dead Templar and all.

First Enchanter of the Kirkwall Circle Gallows walked into the Chantry to see a group of young Templars protecting someone, something, in the middle of their group as the Knight-Lieutenant tried to make them obey her orders.

“Excuse me. Sers, what happened?”

“These Knights are protecting an apostate!”

“No. We are protecting the younger sister of our own. She smited the abomination.”

“And used magic!”

“She had no idea she's a mage. We've been cancelling her magic out.”

The First Enchanter made an asking motion with his hand. The Templars parted enough to let him through, sealing the ring behind him when their Lieutenant tried to follow.

An injured Templar held the ten year old in his lap, her face still smeared with abomination blood. He noted the armor several sizes too large for her –Templar armor, she must have been the missing Templar’s sister.

“I am First Enchanter Mordiin, may I know your name, little one?”

She looked at him with the clear grey eyes he recalled a Templar's sister being accused of having as magic eyes. He looked at her face and saw Templar Amell's features in her, confirming her as the missing man’s kin. As he looked closer, he swore he could see the eyes of a Spirit looking at him through the reflection, under the swirls of mana in their color, but when he tried to look closer, only the eyes of a mortal mageling looked back.

She sniffed. “Mama and Papa will be unhappy with me again. I don’t want magic. Magic took Illo from me. And I killed him.”

He nodded at her reaction. Not an easy task for a hardened Templar, let alone a child toward a beloved sibling, to slay a demon that had once been someone she knew and loved. The girl had not been born under a kind star. “I do not believe he would have wanted to stay as he was before you did.”

“Mama and Papa will be unhappy, ashamed of me. They were so happy Illo joined the Templars, and now I’m a mage-!” She sobbed the rest that he couldn’t figure out.

“Enchanter, she used a Holy Smite on the abomination before killing it. When the seal faded, she burnt the remains and froze the flames to protect everything else. She's not an apostate. Her brother had no idea she was a mage, she had no idea. Her family won’t be kind to her, not after her aunt Leandra left with an apostate.”

He placed a hand on the scared child's head. “I know the First Enchanter of Ferelden's Circle. It's a ways away from Kirkwall, but you won’t have to see your parents be upset with you, or this Chantry where your brother died.”

She looked up as a soft green spark passed over her fingertips to the injured man. His injuries healed themselves as his leg righted. The green spark flicked out when she jerked her hands away to stare at them, as if expecting a demon to spring out of her fingers.

“Will there be nice people?”

“Knight-Commander Greagoir's a bit rough, but he means well as I remember him in his Knight-Lieutenant days here. First Enchanter Irving will be delighted to have a new student.”

She looked at the Templars protecting her and saw them nod.

“You show promise of being a great mage, but you will not pass your Harrowing if you stay here.”

She nodded and held out a hand for the mage to take. The knights broke from their formation.

The Lieutenant spoke up again. “Good, now give the girl to-“

“She's going to the Fereldan Circle. Her family would sooner have her harmed than safely taught. This tragedy needs not to be compounded when she had never used magic before.”

She looked behind her at the Templars and thought she saw one smile and wave at her before walking through the statue of Andraste. A demon or spirit, she wondered.

The three Templar Knights who started their shielding of her were sentenced to transport her to Kinloch Hold. The one who had been injured in the fight gave her Illo's pauldrons and bracers as they boarded the ship.

The ship trip was different than she thought as she tried to stay out of sight from the sailors who gave her a look she only recognized as “bad”. Two Knights stayed with her at all times to keep the sailors away from her.

She was more delighted to see land than her escorts were, as they thanked the Maker for the safe journey and swore to Andraste they would take the longer land journey back to the Free Marches.

The port city was part of a bigger group of cities and farms called a Teyrnir. She frowned and tried to learn and make sense of what she could.

“Bowf! Bo-u!”

“Mabar!” A short tailed wolf almost ran into her, stopping just shy of her face it decided to lick.

At her shriek a girl, a few years older than her, tapped at a collar around the wolf's neck. “Mabar, don’t scare the Templar girl. So sorry, Mabar just runs off and thinks everyone is her friend. Unless he gets close to her food, but still. Hello, I’m Elissa. And you're with the Templars? How awesome!”

The older girl grinned and tossed a white braid over her shoulder.

“I-I'm not a Templar, miss.”

The girl looked confused for a moment.

“I-I'm a mage going to Kinloch.”

The girl laughed. “I heard Kinloch is a good place, Templars aren’t mean to mages. At least, that's what the visiting Mages say.”

She smiled at the elder girl. “Thank you. Nice to meet both of you, but I need to find my Templar friends.”

Elissa pointed towards the Chantry. “Come on, I’ll take you, I saw them heading this way.”

The white haired girl grinned as the duo and Mabari found the three worried looking Templars. “Sorry, my dog distracted her. And then I kept talking to her and didn’t let her leave until she said she needed to find you.”

Young Amell tried to straighten her new robes as she recalled her lessons on manners. “I’m sorry, I should not have gotten distracted by the dog and should have stayed close.”

“Nah, we're the ones at fault. We should have been keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t get lost even when we did.”

Elissa grinned. “It was my fault, please allow me to make it up by feeding and housing you for this part of your trip.”

The Reverend Sister stopped arguing with a local Templar at the idea.

“Young Lady Cousland! You know better than to interfere with Templar and Circle business.”

The young mage looked at the other girl, who simply kept smiling.

“Yes, Sister. But should I not rectify my error as best I can by being a kind host? These four aren’t Fereldan, and I can't let the good Sers and Lady to return to their home saying Ferelden is uncivilized and rude, can I?”

“If you insist, but my lady, you should inform the Teyrn and Teyrna of your guests.”

Elissa cheered. “Yes! You have to see Castle Highever.”

As the group followed the apparent noble girl, she named off the names of the mountains to the distance.

“On really super-clear days, I swear by Andraste's feet, I can see Kinloch Hold. You’re going to love Ferelden. I mean, we have rain and dogs everywhere, but even in the rain it's beautiful here.”

At the gates, there was a small group of guards, each looking injured or more tired than the next member of the group, all of them making protesting noises as their leader just sighed and growled out the girl's name. “Lady Elissa.”

Elissa grinned and waved them off. “I'm home just fine. And I have guests! Sers Vakar, Notter, and Sanni, Serra-“

“Apprentice Amell.” She flushed as she cut off the noble, but she was not a Serra, certainly not a lady anymore. “We’re on our way to Kinloch.”

“And I insisted they should stay the night with us.”

“A mage?”

The girl's grin morphed into a frown and a straightening in her shoulder. “My guests. I will not allow you to speak a word of ill luck or intent towards them, mage or not, now or in the future.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Elissa grinned again. “Come on, I’ll show you the way. Mother won’t be happy she didn’t know a week ago, but this is better than her trying to set me up with Bann Teagan or someone else older than me. Or a baby, like, gross, right?”

“Before we knew I'm a mage, I was scared I'd be married to someone Papa’s age.”

The older girl's smile faltered. “I thought mages didn’t have to worry about marrying, ever.”

“I was a noble. Now I’m a mage.”

“I'm going to join the Shield Maidens of Andraste. Fight for justice before I have to get married- Shields have to have a number of years of service first- so I don’t have to deal with more politics and stuff for a while again.”

The trio of Templars shrugged as the girls changed subject to dogs in Ferelden.

Kinloch was a tower in the middle of a lake. She smiled at the boatman who shrugged at the trio of Templars.

“Never heard of a mageling who needed three Knights to bring her for the Circle.”

“We’re from Kirkwall. We interfered with our lieutenant’s plans, so we were sent with her to make sure she got to the Circle.”

“You three are young too.”

“We took our vows last year. With her brother.”

“Poor kid, so far from home and kin.”

“Another mage made him into a monster. Here is a kinder fate for her.”

She sat to the edge of the boat, lowering her hand into the lake water and letting it drift with the current the boat made. The water of the lake felt different than the water of the harbor back home. It felt cleaner, like she was not going to have her hand grabbed by some dead corpse wanting to drag her back under.

She looked up to her new home, and could feel how clean the air, the water, and she was certain even the tower, were. Kirkwall to compare, was truly a city of chains, the weight of the thousands dead for the greed of the men in charge, the weight of the blood.

Ferelden, as much as she’d seen it, was so huge and open, she felt small and easily ready to be lost. Ferelden was free. She could feel why Andraste fought so hard against the evils of the blood mage controls Tevinter Imperium, when She came from this realm that breathed free of the blood that choked her home.

Not that the young Solona could put her sense of freedom, cleanliness, and her religious understanding into concise words at the time.

The tower’s massive doors opened to show the approaching boat a bearded man wearing the robes of the First Enchanter.

“Welcome to Kinloch. We don’t usually get mages from outside Ferelden often, so my apologies for the rush to set up.”

She smiled at the bearded Enchanter who offered a hand out to her.

“I am First Enchanter Irving, the grumpy Templar is Knight-Commander Greagoir, and the lady to his other side is Enchanter Wynne.”

She smiled and curtseyed as her mother drilled into her for years. “Hello. My name is Solona Amell, from Kirkwall.”

“How far into your studies are you?”

She looked between her Templar friends and the people of her new home. Blushing, she rubbed at the arm guard she wore under the robes. “I didn’t know I was a mage until a month or so ago. A thing - a demon or something? - attacked the Chantry, and it used to be my brother. I killed him. My brother was a Templar, see. We didn’t know I had magic.”

The unsmiling man in Templar armor sighed. “Maker help us, you will need constant watching.”

“I didn’t make my brother into that thing! He didn’t come home after shift, we went everywhere. I went to the Chantry to ask the Maker to keep him safe.” She swallowed, running her hand along the chain. “My prayers were too late, I guess.”

“Commander, I was with her when she went to the Circle to look for her brother. I followed with her, and I was there in the Chantry when she slew the abomination.” Ser Sanni set his jaw. “I am her best witness.”

The three Templars from Kirkwall had been given orders to transfer to Kinloch's Commander Greagoir, signed by Knight-Commander Knell of Kirkwall.

Night time was the worst time for her as she transitioned to Circle life. She dreamed of the night she killed her brother. Sometimes, he helped her plunge the sword into him. Some nights, he begged her to let him go. Others she watched him transform in the Chantry. She had to place a Silence ward on herself at night to keep the others asleep.

Other apprentices found her brother’s armor pieces once and started to sabotage them before she set the group on fire and Smiting them in a rage. She stood, armor pieces in her arms, her peers on the floor in a fit. She screamed and was sent to be isolated for a few days as they recovered.

When the true crime had been revealed, she was released to begin a different training plan. She worked with the other Templars more often, working her glyphs and weapon enhancement spells to coincide with her resilience to a Smite.

As she trained, she slowly made friends with two mages, Anders and Jowan, who would often make up dream-like stories about the things they would each do when they grew up. Change the way magic was viewed, convince the Chantry to relax their strict laws, go to Orlais and speak with the Divine about the politics as they understood them.

Often she had to drag Anders from trying to swim across the lake, swearing she was going to let the moron drown next time. And sure enough, she was dragging him back the next time, making the same oaths.

She was often found at night working on spells with Jowan, trying to tutor him on the lessons of the day. More often than not, the spells would work too well and she’d be sent to the infirmary again to keep the record for most visits to the infirmary strongly in her possession.

Eight years later, she could wield a sword and shield almost as well as any Templar. She moved with the grace of a warrior, but had to hide her weapons training when the higher tiers of the Chantry came to visit.

She asked once why she had to hide her skills.

“What you are being trained in is very close to heresy.”

“Commander?” She frowned and made sure her arm guards were fully covered.

“Knight-Enchanters are few and far between on Thedas, and for good reason.”

She nodded. “Magic is to serve man, never to rule him.”

“We are seeing if you can handle the Knight-Enchanter training. If not, then you be a very well trained battle mage who can be sent around Thedas to combat the blood mage cults or whoever the Divine deems necessary.”

“I see. Thank you, Commander.”

When the guests left, her lessons resumed. Other mages gave her a wide berth as she wore lighter pieces of Templar armor, including the very ones from Kirkwall most of the time.

“Ap-prentice Amell?” A strawberry-blonde man rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand as the other held his helmet against his chest. “The Commander and First Enchanter have decided that it’s time for your Harrowing.”

Solona Amell turned and smiled, setting aside her herbalism supplies. “Thank you, Ser Cullen.”

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