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#What to do if There’s a Witch at Your Door
moonlightazriel · 19 hours
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Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader
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Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.
Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands. 
Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold. 
“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.
Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable. 
But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was. 
Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.
“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book. 
“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.” 
Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb. 
“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep  going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed. 
“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed. 
But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless. 
“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.
“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt  started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully? 
“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement. 
“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.” 
“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”
Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself. 
“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her. 
“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life. 
They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt. 
Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down. 
“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch. 
“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster. 
“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging. 
“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen. 
“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”
“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.
“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it? 
“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.
“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue. 
“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.
“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages. 
“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him. 
He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls. 
They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased. 
It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy. 
Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them. 
The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.
The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.
With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”
Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.
“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.
“I know how to kill him.”
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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lizzieisright · 8 hours
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Moon peppers (4)
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Palestine: what can you do
were!Abby x witch!reader
Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.
Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.
Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend
Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)
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Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.
In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them. 
You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.
Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out. 
Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse. 
Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible. 
Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds. 
At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you. 
“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace. 
Abby growls louder. 
“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”
Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down. 
“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility. 
This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.  
“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again. 
You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.
“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”
Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her. 
“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses. 
“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”
You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck! 
The wolf stomps after you.
“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf. 
“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.
“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her. 
But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back. 
“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”
“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.
“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it  makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.
For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath. 
“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face. 
The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you. 
Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before. 
Well. She can play nice too. 
“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!
You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces. 
It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation. 
“You didn't have tattoos before.” 
You smirk sadly. 
“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”
How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?
“So you still do deals.” 
“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”
“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”
“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”
“I heal fast.”
“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”
Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?
“How far is too far?” 
“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”
Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you. 
You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away. 
It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)
You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all. 
“It's bad.” You laugh. 
“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”
“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”
You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad. 
(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life). 
“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”
“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous. 
“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.” 
Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it. 
“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”
“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute. 
“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer. 
Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried. 
“Do you have any meat?”
“...No.”
“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes. 
“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.” 
That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo. 
“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.  
You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.
After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes. 
She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now. 
You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you. 
“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”
Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her? 
“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?
“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.” 
“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.
“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”
Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad. 
“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way. 
“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”
Abby hums, thinking it over.
“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”
“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return. 
The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous. 
The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house. 
“Why don't you use wood like normal people?” 
“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.” 
Abby huffs. 
“So you rely on your magic all the time.”
“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan. 
Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night. 
You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised. 
You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.
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Note
Hi, I have a request: Could you do Angel Dust x Human Reader in platonic way? Where Reader have magic skills and, for a mistake of a spell, fall in hell and meet Angel Dust.
(I don’t see much fan fiction where Hazbin Hotel characters interact with human reader and I hope this can be possible)
Thank you
omg yes!!! i loved this idea so so much! thank you for your patience as i did this request and i hope you enjoy it!
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down the rabbit hole
rated: G
the spell was supposed to be simple. a simple spell that was to protect your home and transport any negativity away from your home. but after you chanted the last spell for it, you heard rumbling that grew louder. your dog, luna, whined as she darted closer to you and the rumbling increased.
“shit. how are we getting an earthquake?” you ask yourself out loud, not thinking anything of the shaking yet. that is until the ground started to fall away from your feet. your eyes widen as you see a maroon ground and desolate surroundings. your feet glued to where you were as you tried to run and pull luna with you, but to no avail. your scream echoed as you and luna fell through the portal and landed on the ground. your breath knocked from your lungs as luna landed on top of you. you look at her and the around you, seeing a city, but more conveniently a large building that showed it was the “hazbin hotel”. you blinked and murmured to luna to keep close by as she whined and followed you.
shakily making it up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, anxiety clutching in your chest as you froze. a soft lick on your hand pulling you out of your paralysis as you look at luna and sigh.
“okay, girl. i just have to knock right?” you ask, posing your hand to do so, when the door suddenly opens.
“well, hello there-“ the voice is cut off as you scream, startled and step back. luna takes this as whoever was there as a threat and lunges. your mind catches up to your body as you scream at her to heel. not before a very high pitched scream comes from whoever opened the door and they fall back. you, holding luna, look at the… man? deer? person. he was on the ground and his arms in front of his face, subtly shaking.
“i am so sorry. that was my fault. you startled me and she thought i was in danger.” you explain as you tell luna to sit and stay, and you walk over to help the red deer man up. he glares up at you, looking like he was going to have some snarky comment, when his eyes widen.
“where are you from?” he asks, getting up himself and brushing off his coat like nothing happened. you blink for a moment, and straighten up.
“i’m from california?” you answer, framing it more like a question. his glare is unamused as he stands up straight.
“no, where are you from, what ring? you don’t look hell born.” he says, his eyes narrowing in distrust.
“i-um-i don’t know how to answer that. i’m from earth. i guess? i’m a witch, and i did a spell and i think it went wrong. where am i, actually?” you ask.
“oh yer in hell toots.” a voice comes down the stairs. “charlie we got a new one!” the white spider yells up the stairs, still consumed on their phone. you blink.
“is everyone animals down here?” you ask, but before you can get an answer, a woman with blonde hair bounds down excitedly.
“oh another guest! are you ready to be-“ her eyes widen looking at you. “redeemed?” she trails off, her face scrunching in confusion.
“are you an angel?” another woman, who is next to the blonde asks. you blink owlishly at them.
“i mean, i’ve had compliments before, but if i look that much like an angel, thank you?” you say and the woman shakes her head.
“no, you’re an angel.” her face distorting into anger as she pulls out a spear. “why are you here?” she yells as you back up. luna jumping in front of you and growling. everyone takes a step back at that.
“oh my fuck. is that a dog?” the white spider demon asks, and walking up to luna. luna’s growls deepen and you tell her to heel again.
“be nice.” you mutter to her as she whines and sniffs the spider demons outstretched hand. deeming him a worthy friend, goes over and sits in front of them for pets. “you can pet her. she’s fine.” you say, looking at the spider demon and smiling.
“i haven’t pet a dog in almost 80 years…” he trailed off.
“that’s a dog? from earth?” the blonde squeals and goes over, mimicking the way the spider demon introduced himself and then petting luna too.
“so, let me get this straight… i’m in hell?” you ask. the red deer nods, standing far away from luna.
“yes. you are in hell. but why don’t you look like demon spawn is beyond me.” he provides.
“probably because i didn’t die.” you conclude. “im assuming you all were born here or died and ended up here, right.” there were murmurs of agreement.
“except vaggie,” the blonde points to the spear wielding girl, “she’s a fallen angel.” you nod.
“heaven that bad?” you ask.
“you have no idea.” she deadpans.
“so, i apologize if this is rude, but who are you all?” you ask.
“oh my goodness! i don’t introduce myself!” the blonde exclaims getting up and rushing over to you. “i’m charlie! charlie morningstar. and this is the hazbin hotel. a place where sinners can be rehabilitated and go to heaven.” your eye brows raise at that.
“morningstar, as in lucifer morningstar?” you ask, a bit shocked.
“that’s the very one!” she exclaims.
“how is he? he’s felt a bit off recently, and hasn’t liked the offerings i’ve put out.” you ask as charlie looks at you confused.
“you know my dad?” her head tilted in confusion.
“well, not really. i work with him, in my practice. i’m a witch.” you explain.
“oh, like alastor!” charlie says, making a connection. you look over to where she pointed at the red deer demon, alastor you assumed.
“i don’t think she deals in my magic, charlie.” alastor explains.
“what is your magic?” you ask, curious.
“partially voodoo.” he looks at you and smiles.
“oh, goodness no. my family doesn’t practice voodoo, and that is a closed practice i respect. but more power to ya man!” you say, nodding at him. he tilts his head at you curiously and you look over at luna now on her back and the spider demon rubbing her stomach.
“if you rub her chest to her stomach in one fell swoop, she’ll be your best friend.” you laugh as the spider demon looks at you, does that and watches as luna’s tail wags quicker. he laughs and does it again.
“oh my god, i’m in love.” he says, petting her ears.
“that’s angel.” charlie explains. you smile and nod, until a new person descends the stairs and calls out for charlie.
“charlie, sweetie!” the voice says, getting louder coming down the stairs. “you don’t happen to know where my hat is, do you?” you look curiously at the man, who is barely taller than you, his eyes fixed on his jacket not looking up.
“ummm… no, dad. also. i want you to meet…” charlie looks at you. “i never asked your name.”
“oh! it’s y/n. it’s a pleasure to actually meet you in the flesh lord lucifer.” you say, bowing your head slightly. he stops and looks at you, looking taken aback.
“you didn’t die y/n, why are you down here?” he says coming over to you and grasping your arms.
“i was doing that protection spell for the house and i think i fucked it up.” you say, a bit downtrodden.
“don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetie. we all make mistakes and luckily i can get you back up to earth.” he says, smiling at you.
“thank you. it’s a wonder to actually meet you. i was worried, you hadn’t liked many of my offerings.” you said and he looked bashful.
“how do you guys know each other?” charlie asks.
“well, i work with lucifer in my practice, like i said before.” you say.
“she’s a witch charlie. there are many different types of witches, but there are some who have the gifts to communicate with beings outside of earth, or choose to honor certain beings through what earth calls offerings. they can be food, trinkets, etc.” lucifer continued to explain.
“they’re a form of devotion. and there are many different types of relationships you can have. i work with your dad for help with my spell work, i’ve been working with him for almost 10 years now. not so long to him, but a long time to me.” you finish.
“i had no idea…” charlie explained.
“that’s why i said about the offerings and your dad not liking them. i can normally get a vibe.” you laugh. “maybe i need to put more apples?” you ask, chuckling. lucifer chuckling with you.
“nah, just put a damn rubbah duck.” angel says, still petting luna. “he loves ‘em!” you look to lucifer and he shrugs.
“i do like ducks.” he bows his head, bashfully.
“noted.” you say as you walk over to angel and luna, sitting with them. you smile at angel and pet luna’s head and sigh.
“so, how do i get outta here?” you ask, looking at lucifer.
“how about ya nevah leave and luna stays here. she’d love fat nuggets!” angel exclaims.
“fat nuggets?” you ask.
“my pet pig. sweetest little doll eva.” angel says, leaning to you like he was telling you a secret. you smile and coo at that.
“i’m going to need to get an asmodeon crystal from lust and then i will be back. stay here until i get back all right?” lucifer said, materializing a portal and getting ready to step through it. you salute him in understanding and he disappears.
“that means we’ve got more time to talk and i’ve got more time to let this dog!” angel exclaims, laying down next to luna who was fast asleep now. you laugh and look around.
“it seems i do.”
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winniemaywebber · 3 days
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It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 2
💕 Jean 💕
warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), mention of sexual intercourse.
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taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @agir1ukn0w @precious-little-scoundrel
Putting the finishing touches to your famous cherry pie, you remove your apron and walk into the living room, trying your best to swipe flour off your dress as you enter. 
“Pie is done, Binger,” you say quietly so as not to wake the baby in his arms. Yours and Harry's son had taken to mixing up his days and nights. Not a wink of sleep from midnight - what Bing liked to call his witching hour - until at least 5am. It had started to take its toll on the pair of you, the both of you sleeping in shifts for the most of a fortnight. You missed your husband dearly, despite being back in the same house. There was just something about savoring his arms around you, his nose snuffling into your neck as he slept, the comfort you'd been craving for years. You knew it was hard for him too: waking alone from a horrific nightmare, your soft hands not there to soothe him back to sleep and reassure him he's home and safe. 
Placing the baby in his bassinet, Harry gets up from the couch and stretches, yawning heavily before walking into the kitchen. 
“It looks wonderful, my love. He'll love it.”
“Are you sure?” you question, eyebrow raised a little. “You're sure he said that was his favorite?” 
“Yes, Mrs Crosby,” he laughs, kissing your forehead. “I like to think I'd remember these little things about my friends. Don't worry yourself so.” He pulls you into his arms and strokes your back, his nose falling into the crook of your neck. You feel yourself purr into him at the sensation of him tickling and kissing your neck, gasping a little. 
“He's asleep,” your husband murmurs. “Come to bed with me, darling.” 
“But Rosie will be here any moment and…ahhh–” You can barely piece the rest of your thought together because of Harry putting his mouth on yours, his tongue entering soon after. 
“Fine, we won't go to bed,” he murmurs, pushing you against the counter. “Here is more than fine.” With that, his strong, pretty hands are lifting up the skirt of your dress and gripping your legs, lifting you slightly to get you to sit on the counter. 
“Harry…” you groan as you watch him kneel down in front of you, pulling your underwear to the side. 
“What, my little wife? Do you want me to stop?” he questions, those brown, puppy dog eyes looking up at you as he begins to plant soft kisses on your the inside of your thighs, getting closer to your core with each one. 
“N-no,” you finally stutter out. “It-its just…oh, my gosh.” You're cut off by your husband's tongue taking you apart in seconds. He pulls away, gently pushing a finger inside you. 
"It's just what, darling? Tell me. Tell your Bing just what it is.” 
You can't seem to formulate words due to the pleasure fogging your brain, so you just shake your head, breath ragged. 
“That's what I thought,” he murmurs, returning his face to in between your legs, throwing your leg over his shoulder. “Now, let me make my wife feel good.” 
You're a mess, moments later, Bing mumbling filthy praise as you writhe in front of him. “Wow…you needed that, huh?” He stands up, wiping his mouth and kissing you, you moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 
“Mhm,” you reply, your mouth still on his. “I always need you.” 
“Good,” he grins. He plants a sweet kiss on your nose, winking at you. “We'd better go clean up.” 
---
It's just as Harry's spitting toothpaste into the sink that you hear the doorbell ring. You both look at each other, wincing and waiting for the inevitable screech that strangely, doesn't come. You take a final look at yourself in the bathroom mirror before running to the door, Harry following close behind you, his hands squeezing your butt as you turn away.
“Hey!” you squeal, playfully swatting at him. He chuckles, pulling you towards him again for a quick kiss. 
The doorbell rings again, and Harry goes to open the door. “Here he is!” he shouts, pulling his friend into a hug. “Robbie Rosenthal!”
“Croz, how are ya?” he responds, slapping him on the back. He makes eye contact with you stood behind the pair of them, giving them time to greet one another after so long. 
“Jeez, Croz,” He pulls away, smiling at you. “Wonderful to see ya. And this must be the Mrs Jean Crosby.” 
“Hi, Rosie. A pleasure, finally!” You go to shake his hand, but he pulls you into a huge bear hug. 
“So, so, good to finally meet you.” 
He follows you and Harry into the house, placing his bag by the door. 
“How was your journey, bud?” Harry asks, placing a cold beer in front of him. 
“Ah, not so bad,” he responds, taking a sip. “Jo says she's sorry she couldn't be here.” With that, he glances over at you, and you share a sad glance.
“Oh, my sweet Jo,” you respond wistfully. Jo had been part of the team of ladies keeping you upright in many ways during the time Harry was away. She was always there with a listening ear, a kind heart and a shoulder to cry on when things got especially tough. Because of that, she is now one of your most treasured friends, and holds such a special place in your heart. “I miss her terribly. How is she? Of course, we write weekly but it's not the same as being around her.”
“I know, Jean. She's doing great, beautiful as ever. We've been fixing up a little house to move into after we're married. You guys are gonna come, right?”
“You think we'd miss that, Rose? Come on, man, you know me better than that!” The men laugh, clinking beer bottles as you're pulling vanilla ice cream from the freezer to serve with the pie when a soft cry pours through from the living room into the kitchen. You nod apologetically towards the men and go retrieve the baby.
“Hi, sunshine,” you murmur, picking him up. “That was a good nap, huh? Good boy, I'm sure you feel much better now. Guess who's here?” You lay him down on the changing mat to change his diaper, cooing all the while. “That's right, my boy! Uncle Rosie. Uncle Rosie's here to see you!” 
You feel the presence of someone in the doorway, and look up to see Harry, his arms crossed, smiling at you and the baby. 
“What, darling?” You say, buttoning the baby's romper. 
“That never gets old, sweetheart. You and him, me being here to see it. I love it.” He walks over and takes the baby from you, kissing his chubby cheeks before kissing yours. “I love you, Mrs Crosby.”
“I love you more, Bing.”
Rosie gasps as Croz brings the baby into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up and softening at the same time. He stands up, the chair squeaking on the kitchen floor as he reaches his hands out, holding the baby to his body.
“Hi, buddy!” He chirps, smiling down at him. “How's it goin’? Huh? You running mom and dad ragged? Yeah? That's what I thought, little guy. Good job!” He carries on like this, rambling in a voice that's several octaves higher than you just heard, the baby gurgling in response.
“Oh, you guys,” he says, back to his normal husky tone, his eyes shining. “He's beautiful.” 
---
The rest of the day passes quickly, both men rushing around you and switching the baby between them, so you can sit down and rest. Thankful for the extra pair of hands, you take the opportunity to take a long, hot bath and relax, your Bing coming in for just a moment to sit on the edge of the tub, telling you a story from their time in England that he'd just remembered thanks to Rosie and that he just had to tell you immediately, all while rubbing lavender soap into your legs. 
While you're getting ready for bed, you reread Jo's latest letter, which you plan to reply to in the morning.
Darling Jean,
How are you? Good, I hope. I'm so sorry to read that the little guy isn't sleeping well. I imagine that can be so exhausting.
I'm glad Robbie will be there in a few days. That extra pair of hands around so you can relax will be welcome, I'm sure. I'm just so sorry I cannot be there too, to be with you while the boys share their anecdotes. While our men may have lost so much in the years they were away from us, I'm glad it gave us something: each other. You are one of my dearest friends and I am forever glad and grateful that your Harry and my Robert became friends, thus putting us together. I wouldn't know how to live without you now. 
Back to not being able to join Robbie on this trip: tell him to hurry up and marry me so I'm able to come see you and the baby. Start dropping hints now, lady! I'm dying to see you and my beloved nephew. 
Goodbye for now, my dear. All my love, always.
Your friend,
Jo
You smile, placing the letter back on your nightstand, sniffling a little. She is right; the men losing so much, yet you both gaining this friendship is bittersweet. Her being there for you when Harry came home on leave, your nerves wrecked after not seeing your husband for years. She was one of the first people you told when you found out you were pregnant, both of you weeping with joy and hugging. Wiping your present tears away, you run downstairs to take the baby so that Bing can take the first sleep shift. 
“Harry, darling,” you coo. “You'd better sleep if you want to take Rosie golfing tomorrow morning!”
“Oh, thanks, honey,” he says, clumsily standing from the couch so as not to disturb the dozing baby in his arms. “Here ya go, buddy,” he says, placing the baby in your waiting arms. “Go to mama. Goodnight, my son.” He kisses him on the head, then it's your turn, placing a deep kiss on your mouth. 
“Hold on, you guys,” Rosie starts, placing his whiskey glass on the table in front of him. “You aren't going to bed together?”
“We can't right now, Rosie,” you say, sadly. “Little guy here wakes at all hours, so we take it in turns right now.”
“I'm not having that!” he says, shocked. “Go to bed together, I'm here for a reason. Uncle Rosie and his new best buddy can have a few hours to get to know one another a bit better. You've got jazz, a record player and I've got arms that aren't exhausted to be able to hold him all hours.”
“Are you sure, bud?” Harry says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
“Yes, Croz. Go curl up with your wife. I'll be here.”
“Thanks, doll,” you say, a grateful smile on your face. “Come wake us if there's any trouble, okay?” You place the dozing baby in his bassinet next to the armchair Rosie is sitting in, and gently pat his shoulder in thanks.
“I wouldn't dream of it. Goodnight, you two!”
---
You and Harry ascend the stairs together, breathing a sigh of grateful relief. Pulling his shirt off, your Bing walks towards you, his hands finding their way up your night dress. “How's about we pick up where we left off earlier?” he winks, his hands getting further up your bare skin.
“Hmm, yes please.”
“Good,” he murmurs, kissing you deeply. “Just be quiet, Mrs Crosby. We don't want the cops called on us.” 
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thatsbelievable · 6 months
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