#fae!chase collines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Rumplestiltskin, Epilogue

Summary: ...a few years later

Pairings: Andy Barber X Walter X Chase Collins, Lance Tucker X Branwen Barber

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings: a bit of gaslighting and manipulation, sad!Andy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.2K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Walter, how long has it been?” Andy tiredly asks the horse as they wander around the forest. Every day. All day. Nothing ever changes and he didn’t feel as if he was getting any closer. The forest seemed oddly bigger than he recalled.

“It feels as if it’s been hundreds of years with you,” the horse deadpans, and stops abruptly in the woods. Andy lets out an annoyed groan, “He’s coming,” Walter whispers. The horse backs the two of them up, while he and Andy wait with bated breath for Chase to make his monthly visit.

Chase dramatically lands in a crouch, and stands up slowly looking at Andy, “Care to guess?”

“Go over your rules again, trickster.”

“I don’t get anything past you anymore, old man. Should you give me my brother’s name that he told your precious queen, you get your family back. Should you give me his birth name, this all becomes a dream, and you have your baby back in your arms..”

“And I walk around on two legs again,” Walter blows out a puff of air, letting his hoof pound the ground.

“Yes, of course. How long has it been Andy? Your daughter won’t even remember you, would she?” Andy’s nostrils flare as he glares at the faerie. “Oh, that’s right, ten years. No doubt you’ve heard the rumblings in the forest.”

“You sack of shit! You’ve cursed the entire forest for what reason? So your baby brother could have a fantasy with my wife and child. They’ll never belong to him.”

“Hmm, doesn’t matter to me. I thrive and feed off of chaos. Your mistake has made these woods even more interesting. Had you had kept that tree standing, there never would have been the green apples. You did that Andy. Now you rush to the edge of the forest and hope some maiden won’t enter. They always do. The creatures in these woods are too enticing. Prey on the world outside without lifting a finger. Their very essence beckons those weak women in,” Chase throws his head back with a maniacal laugh. His eyes now as black as the feathers on his back and the heart in his chest.

“Bernard.”

“Wrong.”

“Steven.”

“Very wrong.”

“Theodore.”

“Oh, not close at all. Two more guesses, and I’ll see you in a month.”

Walter snorts, wiggling his back. Andy didn’t know any direction to go with these names. Didn’t have a clue what to say. It was always wrong. “Tick tock goes the clock.”

“Azriel.”

“One more guess, King Andrew.”

“Lancelot.”

Chase’s eye twitches for half a second, but then that devil turns his mouth up into an evil grin. “I’ll see you in a month.”

“Ahh!” Andy screams, letting his head collapse on Walter’s neck. “Keep going.”

“Andy, maybe it’s time…”

“Keep going. You’re under this curse until she gets her happily ever after. This is her fate and it was always destined to happen this way, which is why you’re still a horse,” a raven caws in this distance, and Walter backs up a moment.

Looking where the bird had come from, but it was already gone, and he was definitely dreaming.

Lance stands over your body, using a cloth to clean you. A new fresh vase of roses beside your bed. His thumb traces over the features on your face, and he wonders if this was even worth it. He had you, but only in part. You were just a memory now. And he’d forgotten the sound of your voice. Or the way you never hesitated to touch him or show him kindness.

A black raven lands on the window, trying to get Lance’s attention, and he looks over at her, “Come on, princess. Come see your mother,” a ten-year-old Branwen transforms back into a little girl, and she straightens out her dress, walking over to you.

She was getting so big. Changing nearly daily. She gets next to you and leans over, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before sitting on the bed beside you, “Have you drank your apple juice today,” she turns and scowls at Lance, and he throws his hands up in surrender.

“Let me see your eyes,” with a quick caress on your hand, she goes to sit in his lap, while he examines her golden eyes, “Still the same.”

“Why do you make me drink that juice everyday?”

“Because, princess. The apple is what gives you your power. I’m afraid that should you eat the golden apple, you’d…”

“Be like you and Chase?” Lance nods his head, but his eyes move back over to you. “I saw him today,” she grimaces as she looks up at him, “I’m sorry. He was guessing.”

“I told you to avoid that man,” he looks back at her. His eyes flit around her face as he tries to figure out what she knows.

“Chase went to him first. He wanted to know your name. What’s he looking for,” Lance holds up his hand pointing at you, “Why does he want my mother? Can he fix her?”

“No, let’s not worry about that.”

“But I want her, Papa. It’s not fair that I don’t have her awake. What can we do to wake her?”

“Only one thing, my beautiful little raven,” Branwen sighs, assuming that Lance will never tell her, “True love’s kiss.”

“Then it’s my dad?”

“I suppose.”

“So I need to find him. And he can wake her up, and we can live happily ever after?” She smiles up at Lance. Her cheeks dent in with her dimples. “What does he look like?”

“We shouldn’t worry about that. Should your dad want to find your mom, here she is. And if you, her, and your father live happily ever after, where does that leave me? Have I not been good to you? I make sure you have time with her.”

“It’s not the same. That…that child in the forest. She has seven dads. Why can’t I find mine? Would one of them be mine? Can I ask them? Papa, I want my mama,” she pouts up at him while her eyes fill with tears. “It isn’t fair. Princess Orla has all these dads and her mom, and I have neither. And she said her mother is having another.”

“Am I not enough?” She shakes her head, before laying down on Lance’s chest. Her fingers wipe away the tears that just won’t stop, and Lance has to look up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t fair what he was doing. But he couldn’t lose his little raven. The thought of showing up at the tower with you gone, just didn’t feel right. So instead he fights the need to reunite your family. “Orla said her father is Beck. He’s a doctor. Can I bring him here to my mother? Maybe there’s another way.”

“Shh, you need rest. You’ve been flying all over the forest, and you're such a small Raven. But a beautiful and fierce one, my darling Branwen. Go to sleep, child. We’ll go home in the morning.”

Branwen doesn’t want to close her eyes, but when Lance starts singing to her softly, her eyes become heavier, before she drifts asleep on his heart. He looks down at his wings at the bottom feathers turn white, “I won’t give her back,” he says to himself, as the white feathers drift to the floor.

“I can’t. She makes me feel normal again,” he knows this back and forth game he was playing with his soul couldn’t be good. Gain his humanity back, only for him to prove he was in fact a cruel faerie. But he had raised Branwen. She was his daughter now. And Andy could search the forest for a hundred years, and he would never give you back. You and her belonged to him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @whimsyplaty92 @xcaptain-winterx @bambamwolf87 @lavender-annd-lilac @thedarkplume @duuhrayliegh @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @feyfantome @athena-penrose @smile1318 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @andydrysdalerogers

81 notes · View notes

georgiapeach305132 · 3 years

Text

Moon Rituals, Pt. 2

Summary: You continue to meet with Chase, wanting him to join in on the Festival of the Blood Moon, but you have to protect him.

Pairings: Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: implied binding to someone with magic, branding, kissing, mentions of sacrifice, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5k

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

You watch as Chase fiddles around outside of the Ring. Tapping his foot and huffing exasperatedly. “I know you’re on the other side, Moonbeam. I feel you. Already feel our bond strengthening,” his eyes turn up to look at the half waxing moon. “Just come on out of the ring. I won’t hurt you.”

“You promise, Chase Collins?” you ask finally slipping out of the ring.

“There she is. I knew you would come,” he grabs your arm through the ring, pulling you out to him. This time his eyes don’t go onyx, but you still feel the power he possesses over you.

“What do you know about bonds?” you had heard about bonds before. Heard about the fae that shared their immortality with another. Whispers of loving someone so much you’d be willing to lose your wings, offering a part of yourself to another, and spend the rest of your life with them.

“You felt it, too. When I kissed your knuckles, didn’t you?” you did. You’ve been refusing to acknowledge the ancient power he has over you. You have no business falling for a mortal, a witch. “Didn’t have to use any powers over you.”

“You sure you didn’t Chase Collins?” he shakes his head no, and you cross your legs sitting on the forest floor, he soon follows. “What made you search out a Faerie Ring?”

“Very few people in my world I feel connected with. I was cast out by my coven.”

“Why? Did you do something?” you watch his face change, but it still doesn’t give nothing away. There’s almost a sweetness to him.

“No. Just had too much power. My father willed his powers to me. Making me even more powerful. People are scared of power. Like your subjects, my Queen,” his moth turns up into a crooked smirk.

“I asked you not to call me that Chase Collins,” your body moves further from his. Ready to back behind the toadstools.

“And why not?”

“You have not promised fealty. You bear no marks from the moon, not drank any of my wine. You have no right to call me your queen.” You both look at one another. It would take far too long to explain the hierarchy of the Unseelie Court.

“You’re not a high queen though, are you?” you’re not. You became queen by default. Being the last of the Moon Sprites, and the Unseelie do hold the moon in high regard. You shake your head no. “Could I do all that? And you become mine?”

“Exactly why would you want that, Chase Collins?”

“Tired of being alone,” his eyes turn down to the forest floor, his hands playing around with the leaves. It’s turning fall. The Autumn Court will be joining in the Festival of the Blood Moon. “Just want to belong to someone.”

“What’s in it for you?” he shrugs his shoulder. “What’s in it for me?”

“You don’t enjoy my company?” you think about this. When you don’t feel threatened sure you do. But do you feel threatened because of the fear the Court have instilled in you? He is beyond handsome, beautiful even. He is the first one to treat you like an equal. Talking to you because he wants to learn more, not holding you on a pedestal and treating you like you’re made of glass. “I see. Maybe I should go.”

“Please don’t,” your hand holds tightly on his arm and you feel the spark that connects you two. “I do enjoy your company. You’re just intense. I’ve been taught my whole life not to trust witches, and yet, all I want to do is...”

“Be near me?” you nod your head. “So, how quickly can I do all those things you mentioned? I can promise my fealty now. Not sure about all that other stuff.”

“It’s not that simple. You’re a witch you know there’s rituals to all of that,” you glance back up at your mother moon. “It’s almost the Blood Moon. Autumn is coming in celebration. We would have to...I don’t know if you would be welcome inside the circle Chase...”

“Don’t add my last name. I told you, Chase is enough,” his hand comes up to your cheek, cupping it, while his thumb rubs along the side, and it’s almost too much. He grips tighter and refuses to allow you to pull away. “If I can’t go in. Would you allow yourself revel with me outside?” you smile. Finding yourself leaning more towards him. He leans closer to you as well.

“I’ve done the festival enough to know the correct way. We’ll have to take precautions though.”

“Why’s that?” still you two lean achingly slowly together.

“Because...” you can’t finish because his soft blush pink lips connect to yours, and the spark that you had been feeling, burns through your blood. You pull away quickly and gasp. “Chase...”

“You feel it too. But what precautions do we need to take.”

“Protection. The festival is a hunt. Witches are perfect prey,” you don’t notice Jenny’s green body crawling closer to you. “And he is not to be claimed for the hunt,” you warn the other approaching fae. “I already told you he’s not to be harmed.”

“It’s not official my Queen,” her body moving ever closer to you, ignoring your threat from yesterday.

“Shall I make it official?”

A particularly small pixie comes to your side, “My Queen, you know not who you are binding yourself to. Witches mean harm to us. Do you not see the darkness in his eyes?”

“Are we not of the Unseelie Court? Being of the dark ourselves. How could being bound to another dark one be bad?” Chase smugly smiles down at the little pixie. “You lot act like I’m a child.”

“In faerie years you are. An innocent. You being bound to him would be absolute, My Queen.” Jenny’s body stops moving but looks up at you, pleading you not to follow through. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take? You know what that would mean for you.”

“What is she talking about?” Chase’s piercing eyes finally find yours.

“A true binding can take place. As Jenny so pointed out, I’m an innocent. Untouched. If we were bound together, there’s no going back. You die, I die. You leave, I follow. I wouldn’t just be your Queen. I would be your everything. Your equal,” he gulps at the finality of that. “That cannot be done for many moons. Not absolutely. But the process would need to start.”

“What do I get? Absolute is...permanent.”

“You share in my immortality. We wouldn’t be immortal, but we would live far longer than any human. Thousands of years. I lose my wings,” you look down at the floor, watching Chase’s hand move involuntarily. You can’t remember when the last time you used your wings for their designed purpose, but the beautiful shades of them would be gone. Leaving behind a macabre skeleton in their place. The filigree of the tiny bones would still be able to extend, but they would leave behind a haunted appearance. The thought of that, and the inevitable exile from your people. “We would roam the earth together. I wouldn’t be welcome here.”

“Do you not get your powers from the other fae?”

“No, my powers come from the moon. I’m a Moon Sprite. If you wish to start this process, I need to protect you. I couldn’t have you being hunted.”

“How do we do that?” your body crawls over to him. Finding a comfy place on his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting on her,” your eyes look up at the sky. The moon barely peeking through a cloud. “Give me your hands.”

“My Queen,” Jenny’s hissing voice screeches through the night air.

“He is not to be hunted,” you warn the pond fae. Holding your hands up, Chase claps his to yours. Folding your fingers over the other’s hands. “Follow my lead.” Leaning into him, your mouth nearly connects to him. “Wait for her,” your voice a warning for him not to touch you until the right moment. You feel her fully come from behind the cloud, crashing your lips to his, absorbing his screams as you burn your protection on the palm of his hands.

Pulling back as soon as the burning stops, but Chase pulls you back into him. His tongue licks around your lips, and you open your mouth, wanting to taste him. While his tongue dominates your mouth, his hands glide around your body. Ghosting his fingers around you, and when you gasp for breath, you push him away. “Not yet.”

Lifting his hands you see the full moon on his left hand, the blackened new moon on his right. Making it impossible for him to be hunted, allowing him to join in on the Festival of the Blood Moon. “I can’t touch you?” he asks, the darkness in his eyes isn’t from his powers. There’s lust in them.

“Not yet, your Grace,” the forest erupts with shocked sounds.

“Why did you call me that?”

“We’ve started the process. You’re becoming my equal.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Each night that Chase comes to visit, you continue the burning of his palms, deepening the colors and the protection. Too many dark fae will be around, and you are now committed to being bound to him. Needing to make sure the powers of the Mother Moon protect him.

“You don’t regret this do you, your Grace?” nodding his head no he pulls you in closer, his hand drifting lower on your body. Chirping when he winds down to your core. “No! It’s not time.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just...I want you.”

“I can tell. The first full moon after the festival.”

“We have to wait that long?” nodding your head yes, he sighs. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

“It’ll be absolute. There’s no going back once it’s official. Are you sure you want that? The protection will still stick. You can still join the festival and no one can hunt you. Sacrifice you.”

“You really are dark,” he chuckles. “But we can stop at any time before?” he watches your face fall. “Not that I want to. Absolute is...it’s final. Would I even be protected from witches' laws?”

“Such as what?” you go to get off Chase’s lap, but he holds you tightly to him.

“Using my powers can, drain me.”

“Is this what this is about? I thought...” questions run through your eyes. Thankful you haven’t gone further.

“No! Not at all. There’s a moon ritual that gives you my powers as well, I would do it. But the thought of using my powers and draining myself, you in the process...you get what I’m saying?” his hands coax down your arms, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“I need to ask. You want to will your powers to me?” you can’t deny the bubbly warmth you feel. Never heading the warning that you can’t trust witches. “Morgan Le Fey would know more.”

“Too many people shouldn’t know about us.” He’s right. The more people that know the more you two are in danger, and it’s still not official.

“I should go. Tomorrow, Chase. In our spot.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

“Your Highness, what brings you to my neck of the woods. I didn’t think your chaperone would let you venture outside of the Ring,” Morgan’s raven wings shine with the sun the creeps through the curtain. Her gown flowing through her cabin.

“I need to discuss things with you. In utmost secrecy.”

“Would this have to do with your little pet that you’re protecting?” you should have known that she would have spies in the guards, watching every bit of your time with Chase, reporting back to the person that pays them handsomely.

“Well, yes.”

“Not surprised I knew about him?” she doesn’t wait for you to answer. She sees the calm in your face. “I thought your nanny told you to not trust witches.”

“He’s different.”

“Love?” she scoffs. Insulting the feelings that you have growing for him. “You want to bind yourself to him? It’s true then, you’re untouched?”

“If all you’re here is to make fun of me, then...”

“Calm down your highness. I only seek information. I understand he has power from another. You know with witches the more they use the more it drains their body, making them old and frail.”

“He told me as much. But like I said, he’s different.”

“So, you claim. What is it that you’re asking? Will your immortality protect him? Is he worth the loss of your wings? The loss of your Court? You’ll be rogue, like me. Never swearing fealty to no one, but your pet,” her wings twitch, and you get a glimpse of their true form. Scraggly feathers that hardly cling to the bones, the floor shows the evidence of her molting wings.

“You bound yourself,” you realize, eyes wild looking at her, “A witch?”

“What gave it away?” she fully removes her glamour, and you see the effects on her. People had talked about how Morgan Le Fey had powers that of a witch. Makes sense that she would be bound to one.

“Where is he?”

“She is dying. Me, right along with her. You can live long, but sharing your immortality doesn’t make you immortal.”

“I’m sorry. Was it worth it?” you now know she has personal experience with your situation.

“It was. I knew her for far longer than you knew this, Chase. Collins, they tell me? That’s a lie. He’s truly a Pope. A descendant of my beloved. He wasn’t raised by his kind. There’s a darkness that resides in him. He has plans to share his powers with you?” looking around her cabin you see the well-worn path she’s made from pacing. “I wasn’t truly bound. Wasn’t untouched. We both just loved one another. You trust this witch?”

Ignoring her question, you move right to something else, “Your wings?”

“She added them. Notice they’re not faerie wings. Added each feather painstakingly. You don’t fly though. He could always cut them off,” she giggles. Your body becomes uncomfortable, she doesn’t fully answer your question.

“Can I see her?” Morgan shakes her head no. “Did her body age with the use of her powers?”

“Not giving that up, are you? Does he want to know? Or are you just hoping he keeps that handsome face? Would he still stay with you if you told him that he still ages?”

“I... uh...” you don’t know the answer. Chase did search you out. Things have moved rapidly. But to ignore the fire you feel when he touches you.

“Shouldn’t you be asking him these questions?” her fingers caress your cheek, and it stings, you push your body off her hands. “Your highness, his touch...it's affecting you. You should leave.”

“What does that even mean.”

“Don’t come back here,” her hands go to push you out of the cabin.

“She stays,” you look up seeing a beautiful, but weak woman. “It’s you.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Previous Next

Masterlist

62 notes · View notes

pandoraborn · 4 years

Text

20 - Lost

---------------------------------------------------------

In an ideal world, Jackie would have all the time he could possibly imagine to recover and heal. In an ideal world, he’d remain happily married with his family, where no one would hurt any of them. In an ideal world, Cian wouldn’t exist.

Unfortunately, they do not live in an ideal world. The world Jackie lives in currently involves him trying to put himself between Cian and his family, because magically, Cian appeared in the kitchen, and is currently screaming in a language only Jackie understands.

Not that Vin and Chase don’t understand Irish, they’re not as fluent as Jackie is, and it seems Cian’s ire is directed toward the hero, rather than anyone else. He’s not moving any closer to the hero though, as both Marvin and Vin have thrown shields up and are in between the fae and Jackie, while Jameson is trying to get Jackie to his feet and out the front door where safety lies.

Unfortunately, Jackie’s not moving. Against his better judgement, he’s listening, almost hanging onto every word Cian is saying. None of it is good, he’s most decidedly not here on good will.

That much should’ve been obvious from the beginning. While still wearing his best suit, the sleeve that would have housed his right arm is pinned up against his shoulder, while his left hand is waving around slowly, as if he has the power to cast a spell.

“You cannot hope to outsmart me,” Cian says, malice dripping from every word. Hatred, even. Jackie can feel it, like some tangible emotion he could reach out and grab, holding it in his fist. He could almost feel it, unless that’s Cian’s aura seeping into the crevices of their minds. Other than the shields from the magicians, no one’s making very many movements.

“You can try and try and try, but you know me Jackie, you know me very well. You, the one called Vin, and Chase, all know me better than you want to admit.”

“I don’t care,” Jackie responds, the Irish falling from his lips with ease. “You still haven’t permanently gotten to us, so I guess we’re at another stalemate.” It’s now the spell seems to be broken, leaving him finally able to haul himself to his feet. “Jameson, Henrik, we need ‘ta get the kids out of here. I’m not letting-”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so.” Cian seems to almost glitch to the side before Amon can rush at him. Jackie blinks, and then Cian has his hand wrapped around Amon’s throat. “Since my initial plan fell apart because of this one, I think I should do something more drastic.”

“No, that’s okay, you don’t need to show us anything,” Jackie quips. There’s a grin on his face as he speaks, but he’s sneaking a side glance at Marvin, trying to signal to him that Jackie wants his swords. “We’ve all had enough fun-”

“No, no no no.” Cian laughs as he pulls Amon closer. “Let’s move on to a more grand affair, shall we? I would love to see how you handle yourself if your precious Amon isn’t here to save your life.”

“He said my name, Jackie,” Amon says monotonously. He’s staring straight at Cian, though his words are directed to the hero. “What the fuck are you saying to each other? How about you speak a language we all understand?”

“Charming, he can’t understand us.” Cian tilts his head to the side, gaze moving back to Amon. “Should I inform him of what I want? All of them? Or should this be a secret between us? I have an idea, Jackson Collins.”

“Whatever you have in mind, I’m not interested.” The grin is wiped from Jackie’s face as the swords clatter to the ground next to his feet. He’s less focused on them than he is the current conversation. “No one needs to get hurt.”

“Hurt? Oh, not by my hand.” Cian’s grip around Amon’s throat loosens, only barely. Jackie twitches his hand, but dares not move.

“What’s going on?” Neb whispers. “Jackie, we can’t understand either of you.”

“Oh.” Cian clicks his tongue, his own smile growing wider. “Oh, this just got even better.”

“Dad, he’s looking at me,” Neb says frantically, moving closer to Marvin. “Dad, what’s-”

“Perfect.” Cian lets Amon go with a harsh shove, back into Neb. It’s a hard enough action that the two entities stumble back and fall to the ground, struggling to get back up within seconds. “Three.”

“Holy shit he does speak English-” Chase starts to say.

“Two.” Cian lifts his hand up into the air, his eyes turning a sheer gold. Several things happen at once at this point, and if asked later, no one would be able to say with certainty what took place.

The ceiling rips completely away. Jackie almost wants to believe it’s an illusion that Cian is casting, but the rising wind and near tornado tells a different story. He immediately lunges to clutch at Alphie, no thoughts for himself, only his kids. “DUCK!” Jackie yells, trying to be heard over the chaos. He’s not sure if anyone can hear him, everyone’s screaming and scrambling around, gripping onto anything set in the ground, or grabbing each other to try and prevent themselves from being sent up into the air.

“One.”

Cian’s voice is not heard, but Jackie can see his lips forming the number. Everything around him breaks and splinters, falling to pieces into this sudden tornado. Jackie can feel his body aching and straining against the storm, but the banister he’d been clinging to finally cracks and breaks, sending Jackie spiraling far, far away.

He can’t see anyone he loves being flung, but he can see Cian standing in place, with both Merlin and Jason standing on either side of him. All three figures on the ground are wearing large grins, almost too large for their faces.

Then, he knows nothing more.

Cian lowers his arm, and the storm around him fades, along with the illusion. The house had never broken in half, nothing had splintered. Aside from random things scattered, the house is still very much intact. He turns to the men on either side of him, giving each of them a nod.

“Your combined magics are very appreciated in this moment,” Cian says, as he turns to leave. “That should take care of all of them.”

“Sir, if they come back at any point soon, I would bend my knee to you.” Merlin doesn’t mean that, and Cian knows he doesn’t mean that. Still, it’s a statement that deserves some humoring.

Cian scoffs. “Tell me, where have you sent all of them? We’ll debate worship and fealty after this question is answered.” He adjusts his empty sleeve, rubbing idly at the fabric.

“Space,” Jason quips. “I don’t know how many, but a good few of them are in space.” He leans against the wall, brushing flecks of dust off his shirt. “I believe Merlin here sent more of them to somewhere cold.”

“I have. It would be extremely hard to escape the arctic when you’re not properly equipped for such extremities.” He gives a nod toward the other two. “The rest, I don’t know. It’s a toss up who lands where.”

“Perfect,” Cian comments. “They’ll be out of the way for some time. Now, there’s someone else I must attend to.” He turns to go, almost fading through the wall.

“Sir? Might I be as bold as to ask what else you have planned?” Merlin tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

“You may be bold, but I will not answer.” Cian puts a finger to his lips. “You worry about yourselves, I’ll worry about me. As far as I’m concerned, our partnership is over. You may continue to do as you please.”

With those words, Cian disappears, leaving the magicians alone in the house.

#whumptober2020 #no.20 #lost #jse community #fic #language barrier #mild violence #long post #ego shipping #miishae writes

12 notes · View notes

evoedbd · 4 years

Text

Queer Advice

Summer - Emily Collins is terrified that Dracula's Brides will need a virgin sacrifice, and she knows exactly who that person would be. Havenfalls finest are LESS than helpful with their brilliant plan to protect their virgin huntress. ((Meshed in Mac having a version of her MC, because she’s the only character who truly NEEDS her MC to reach her full potential.)) *******

“Alright. This is serious business. We’ve found out more of Dracula’s plan and i- SERIOUSLY?” Emily started out seriously, striding into the closed bowling alley with purpose. Once the door swung shut, however, the party lights revealed something that nearly made Emily blow a gasket. A cuddle pile! An honest to whatever god may exist cuddle pile! During what was meant to be a meeting to save lives. Not just A life, but multiple. On a potentially world dominating scale. This was serious business and yet four bodies remained tangled together; a series of semi naked limbs and plaid that became indistinguishable from each other.

Mackenzie Hunt was the easiest to distinguish amidst the chaos. The Alpha was an absolute beast of a woman, in no uncertain terms. A copper skinned goddess standing at 5.11ft high, with muscles that appeared to be forged from literal copper by an artist of ancient times. Forest green eyes kept careful watch over the bowling alley, even though the gentle smile on her lips betrayed her affection for the others. Her duty as pack leader and town sheriff seemed to weigh her brows down ever so slightly, a fact emphasised by lighter hair against darker skin. Her short, choppy hair was ruffled, suggesting she had been running a little earlier. Or perhaps fingers had been running through her hair, like she now ran her own fingers through Aisha’s chocolate dust locks. Just as Atlas allegedly held the world, Mac supported the tangled individuals on her lap. Even then, she positioned herself so that she could break away and spring up at the first sign of trouble.

Aisha Collins appeared content enough with her head resting on the arm of the couch. Aisha looked so similar to Emily one might mistake them for twins, with their high angled jaws and blazing blue eyes. Aisha had grown into her grace, keeping her head held a little higher than Emily, which made her features seem finer. Her sharp edges were softened, as if the world around her was constantly caressing them into tranquillity. The cargo pants she wore hid her lanky legs, even as they tangled with another pair of fine legs clad in designer jeans.

Annabelle Shepard lay facing the other direction; legs tangled through Aisha’s. Her chest rose and fell with the gentle contentment of peaceful slumber. It was easy to forget how fierce the young woman could be when one looked at her soft face. From gentle curves to large, expressive eyes, Annabelle was disarming. When awake, her cheer was almost infectious, yet she held a certain bite to her. An unnameable quality that exposed the truth of the hardships she had faced. That made you respect her without even knowing her. Her lithe arms remained folded against her chest. As always, her arms were covered by long sleeves with buttoned cuffs. The few times Emily had seen Annabelle’s bare arms, she had been greeted with thick, unsightly scars. They were vicious and deep, as if she had been savagely attacked by a rabid animal.

Damien Ryder took the weight of the cuddle pile. He supported Annabelle’s sleeping form, with his nose tucked into her hair. His arms wrapped around Anabelle, with one of his hands holding Aisha’s legs. The tussles of his signature jacket tickled over plaid and denim, offering something for Aisha to twist around her fingers in her half-conscious state. Looking at Damien, the most striking thing about him was the pain. It darkened his ginger ale brown eyes; dragged on his broody brows. Even in a relaxed setting, his squared jaw seemed hardened and his lips downturned. That along with his shoulder length fawn hair gave Emily the impressions of a western outlaw. All that was missing was the twig of barley for him to chew on.

“Pack thing.” Aisha sleepily explained, waving her free hand in a dismissive manner. It seemed as if she believed that nobody would understand it, so she did not bother explaining. There was a gentle cheekiness to her tone; a happiness which Emily couldn’t bring herself to attack. It was with a long-suffering sigh she directed her attention towards the literal devil in the room.

“You just want time off work.” JD accused, a smirk touching their lips as they leaned back against the bar. Jordan Davies was the epitome of teenage angst turned into professional anarchy. Lanky and long, JD was only a smidgen taller than Emily, yet appeared to be half the weight. Beneath the biker’s leather jacket and baggy red singlet, Emily was positive she’d find nothing but a ribcage. That leanness was matched in JD’s youthful face. Mischief twinkled in ember coloured eyes, as always. Nobody could look at JD’s troublemaker getup; numerous piercings, and flame orange hair without feeling as sinful as if they were sneaking out after curfew. Something about the Jersey Devil invited chaos and trouble of the best kind. The kind where you’d wake up hungover, married to a goat and wondering where your trousers were.

“It would mean you’d have to actually do your job, Jordan.” Razi commented, an amused smile forming beneath his elegantly groomed facial hair. Razi was a picture, with only one stylish lock out of place. With his broad, defined features and luscious dark hair bound into ponytail, it was amazing he settled for a bowling alley in a backwater town. Mythical blue eyes shone; sapphires gleaming against his bronzed skin. As usual, the hunky Djinn wore a silken button up shirt, with the sleeves folded up to his elbows and dark suspenders. The half-popped buttons showed off his defined chest, along with the many hairs curling across his skin. When the light caught those hairs the right way, Razi appeared to glow, adding to his calm mystique. This, along with his dazzling smile, was truly what made Emily think the only way to describe Razi was “An exotic gentleman.” ... yet Razi’s sister called him the ugly duckling. If that was true, Emily doubted the world was ready for the Nassar family.

“Come on, Razi. Hikari has that locked down.” Aisha called teasingly, her lips peeling into a troublemaker’s grin to match JD’s. Emily could only wince in sympathy as she looked over to the poor demon, who was struggling to rearrange the bowling balls without breaking them.

Hikari barely passed for human, being half Fae and half, well, Satan. Her soft, youthful features were only hardened by the copious amount of eyeliner surrounding her neon pink eyes. Darkness was a theme for Hikari, with her full, blackened lips and tiny black horns which sprouted from her coloured hair. Her long hair was perhaps the most colourful thing about her, fading from pink to purple the lower one went from her scalp. Two tiny buns sat on top of her head, little spirals of colour that were almost disarming... almost. Nothing could disarm Hikari’s attitude or sharp tongue.

“Look! This is serious! I was doing my homework on potential rituals which the Brides may preform to resurrect Dracula and it turns out that, aside from me, they may ne-“

“Wait... don’t tell me. A virgin sacrifice.” Aisha snipped in, appearing awfully amused when she spoke. When the entire group remained silent, powerful blue eyes widened in absolute alarm.

“Seriously? I thought that was bogus... talk about cliché.”

“Well, Van tried to correct things apparently, but nobody took him very seriously. If he were around, Vanessa is convinced he’d have a lot to say about the current state of things.” Emily informed, her own brows pinching as she went to speak again.

“Of all the things to get right, eh?” JD laughed, only to grow silent at the look on their friend’s face. For all JD’s chaos, they knew when someone was hurting, and they knew when their common brand of humour wasn’t going to add to the situation.

“Not any virgin. The closer to the intended, the better. We already know I’m the intended, with that kidnapping proposal and me being the only human Collin’s woman in town. The virgin sacrifice, well I think I know who that is. I assume it can’t be any of you. Or Diego. I already know it can’t be Grace-“

“Definitely not Grace. We can both confidently confirm that.” Aisha agreed, causing both her and Emily’s faces to flush furiously. Grace’s prom night had not ended with her date dropping her off, rather with Emily and Aisha chasing a teenage boy out of her room with a mixing spoon and a coffee mug. It was an uncomfortable enough moment that all the Collins women did their best to avoid discussing it, yet none of them could ever bleach it from mind. Aisha had seriously considered trying it once she became a wolf. Thankfully, Mac had convinced her not to test out her new powers. JD also refused to erase the memory, finding it too hilarious to see Emily and Aisha squirming.

“I don’t get along with any other family members. Don’t have any friends outside of Havenfall. The only other person I am close to is Vanessa. What do I do? She’s already in the crosshairs, if they catch onto this...” Emily appeared to dissolve into panic, her brows contorting. All the way from her shoulders to her hands appeared to vibrate, blurring subtly due to her trembling.

“If you don’t want her to be the virgin sacrifice, just have her lose it.” JD suggested rather casually before they took a swig of their drink. Emily could only gape, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets as she did her best impression of a guppy fish. Mouth agape, lips flapping as she tried to find the words.

“Wow. Just wow. Is sex literally the only solution you can offer, JD?” Emily demanded, almost on autopilot. She was in shock. The idea was ludicrous! Insane! Utterly bonkers! She couldn’t just go up and offer to sleep with Vanessa! The huntress was already so shy about most interactions, given that she had never even had friends, let alone a boyfriend or girlfriend. If a compliment left her utterly flustered, and proximity took her breath away, then what would suggesting making love do? No, it wouldn’t be making love. Vanessa couldn’t be in love with her. It’d be sex. A physical convenience. It’d rob the hopeless romantic Vanessa of her first experience with love if she agreed to it.

“I’m just saying. A good shag would solve several problems for her.” JD pointed out, once more grinning like a cat who had gotten the cream via nefarious methods. Emily was ready to burst. To smack the demon over the head with a bowling ball. Better yet, ask Hikari to do it. The Scene Demon would probably love to dish out some payback to JD.

“And who would you suggest we get her into bed with? You? Diego? Razi?” Emily demanded harshly, bringing a hand up to pinch at the of her nose. Her thumb rubbed over the small scar beneath her glasses, which bounced over her knuckles as Emily attempted to purge the images from her mind by rubbing at her eyes. Picturing Vanessa with JD did not bring images of love, only an image of the Huntress kicking a demon’s flaming backside out of her van. For Diego, she could only picture a holy sword shooting out the van to decapitate the vampire, or a stake plunged into his heart. Hardly romantic. Razi... might at least be allowed to speak, but he’d wind up with the door slammed in his face.

Emily was so caught up in her musings that she missed the look shared between Aisha and Mac, yet she did not miss the words her cousin spoke.

“Actually... you’re the best candidate.”

“What? Why me?” She almost shrieked, feeling as if she’d been sucker punched in the gut. Was it because Vanessa was her bodyguard? Did they just assume that it’d be acceptable? Was this how boys felt when paired with their female friends? Pressure? A touch of violation? Great. First it was a girl and boy couldn’t be friends, now it was automatically that if two women were close, they had to be lesbians. Would the clichés and stereotypes ever truly die?

“You’re the only single human woman here.” Mac pointed out. Ok. Emily could concede to that logic.

“Huge flaw in that, guys. You’re all just assuming Vanessa is gay!” Emily stated the obvious. Instantly, she was met with various looks of amusement and pity, all of which made her brows feel heavy and her lips ache with the urge to tip into a scowl. Honestly, for a group of outcasts and Queers, their lack of consideration was astonishing.

“Or kinky. Come on. The leather? The whip?” JD unhelpfully added, miming a whip with their left hand when Emily fixed her glare upon them. The human felt her brow twitch even as she opened her mouth to snap back at the overly satisfied demon. Before she could even utter a single sound, a snort from her cousin cut her off.

“It’s true. No Straight woman would wear that much leather.” Aisha added, smoothing out the moment with logic.

“That’s a value judgement!” Emily scolded on instinct. A rather calm, deadpan stare was the only response. It only got worse as Emily felt her cheeks flush a brilliant cherry tomato. A flush which she was convinced spread to her collar given her spike in body temperature. She wasn’t stupid enough to blame it on the room heating up, not when she was the only one suffering. Okay, so maybe Aisha had a point... slash the maybe. Emily had to concede. She’d never met a woman who kept her nails short and wore so much leather who wasn’t somewhat inclined towards women. Thinking back over their interactions, Emily remembered when she had raised the question about dating history. Boyfriends? Girlfriends? Vanessa had stated explicitly she had no time for girlfriends... ok. So that had to be a hint, right? Vanessa had been so flustered even saying it. As if she expected backlash. So maybe she was a little bit gay? A little. But that was only one half of the sexuality equation.

“She stares at your ass when you walk away. Seriously, she wants a piece. The biggest piece. I can see the gay from across the bowling alley.” Hikari’s voice rung out, drawing Emily’s focus to the approaching Fae daughter of Satan. Hikari had a look of utter condescending disbelief on her face, as if she was utterly flabbergasted that Emily could be so stupid. The intensity of that look sure made Emily feel more foolish than she had ever felt in her entire life, even if she was unsure why.

“She looks at you like you’re chocolate cake, but she forgot to bring a spoon to eat you with.” Razi continued Hikari’s logic in a much gentler fashion.

“Are we forgetting the little issue my last partner had? It’s called a penis!” Emily strained the word “little” with her voice and her fingers, thumb and forefinger held apart to depict the size.

Mark had started out a wonderful partner. A caring man who was decent looking. He had a good job, solid family and had been involved with his church. Early on, Emily had thought he could be the one. Or rather, the best she would ever land with her background. When she had brought him to the bowling alley to meet her friends, however, things had gone south. Fast. Mark had torched his pristine image within minutes by his relentless attack on JD’s lifestyle. Mark exposed a traditionalist streak; which Emily couldn’t overcome. At the time, she hadn’t understood why everyone found Mark’s shouts that JD was going to hell so funny. She’d been busy dumping the tool.

“Ahha! So you admit it was small.” JD cheered, leaping on the chance to have another dig at Mark. The Demon’s grin was victorious; so full of malicious glee that Emily couldn’t even bring herself to defend her ex. Not that she would ever feel inclined to.

“So not the point.” Emily groaned, dropping her face into her hands. Maybe if she pinched the bridge of her nose hard enough, she could repel the building shitstorm which was her massive headache.

“Does it matter?” Hikari demanded in an almost aggressive manner. Shocked, Emily removed her hand and stared at the Fae daughter of Satan. The Faemon appeared impassioned, her neon pink eyes blazing with such intensity it could be compared to a blast of heat straight to Emily’s face. As if she’d stepped from an air-conditioned building into 116 degrees.

“Like, seriously. Who cares if you’ve only been with men in the past, they ain’t the shit.” The Faemon continued, earning an almost amused snort from Emily. JD smirked, Razi coughed. An actual laugh came from Aisha, whilst the rumble of a chuckle echoed softly from Mac.

Emily had always known she found both men and women attractive, yet no woman had ever fit the bill of Girlfriend material. Usually because they were straight. Men had always been easier when it came to dating, thus Emily had learned how to handle her foolish crushes and attraction to men. Women not so much. They still left her tongue tied, overwhelmed her thoughts when she found one she deemed attractive. She still couldn’t flirt in any capacity, and she absolutely could not contain her thirst.

“If you actually connect with Vanessa, go for it. She’s cute, she’s single as fuck and into you. Are you seriously telling me a vagina is getting in the way?” The Fae continued, driving her words home with several firm pokes to Emily’s shoulder. The human could only blink. Hikari had an excellent point.

Vanessa was gorgeous. There was no getting around that. All lithe muscle in a highly feminine frame. Dark hair spilling down her back; hair which seemed to absorb the light in a lilac black cascade. Breathtaking violet eyes, which shone with every single emotion Vanessa ever felt. Yes, Vanessa was physically stunning, yet there was more beauty to her than just her appearance.

Vanessa was just so earnest. Everything about her was so sincere and true that is knocked Emily off her feet. Vanessa’s bravery; her capacity to make Emily believe in the impossible with her blistering passion and steadfast loyalty. It was inexplicable. Emily was forever awed by Vanessa as a Huntress, as well as a person. Whilst Vanessa’s heroism was undeniable, so was the woman beneath the legend. The tender concern in Vanessa’s eyes was almost blanketing; a warm comfort in the night. Vanessa’s genuine smiles transformed Emily’s heart into a prism of light, reflecting the warm glow of happiness throughout her entire chest. Watching Vanessa’s wonder as she was exposed to new things was addictive. To Emily, it felt like watching a whole new world birthed from nothingness. The gentle warmth and pride Emily was a constant undertone for her excitement to engage Vanessa. To learn more. Every scrap of information given by Vanessa was a treasure; a clue leading Emily deeper into a labyrinth. The journey alone was worth more than any treasure. Each moment a glistening point of connection that Emily felt content to exist in. Vanessa’s laughter... melodic. An angel’s song. The sound alone made the world fade away and infused Emily with a sense of unequalled joy. Such a pure, sincere sound as a happy Vanessa gave Emily’s heart wings.

“They sell solutions for that.”

And with Aisha’s comment, Emily’s joy came crashing down. She plummeted, feathers falling from her metaphoric wings with every flap of logic and confusion tangling around her. One moment there was an argument that just because Vanessa was a woman it didn’t mean Emily couldn’t like her, or even, lord forbid, LOVE her. Then, the next moment Aisha was starting to talk about changing Vanessa? It was in jest, clearly, yet that didn’t stop the violent impulse to shout surging within Emily’s veins. Vanessa was PERFECT the way she was. Why would Emily need a silicone attachment to try to deceive her when... Ok, so maybe she was completely into Vanessa. But with angels song and happiness, why would Emily want to ever leave? Or violate that trust?

“I wouldn’t tolerate the townsfolk bothering you two, you have my word.” Mac chimed in, noticing the increasing furrow in Emily’s brow. That was enough to break Emily out of her outrage. Mackenzie was being sincere. Worrying for Emily as if she were one of the pack. That was enough to draw a soft smile to her lips, a gesture of gratitude to the Sheriff.

“Seriously. Humans are so hung up on this shit.” Hikari huffed in annoyance, pausing to blow on her bubble-gum. The bubble grew for a second, then the pronounced pop rung through the silent air. A gunshot before Hikari delivered her perfected opinion on humanity.

“Losers.”

“Gods, are all supernaturals Queer?” Emily didn’t even realise her question had been out loud before she noticed the group pause.

Razi appeared to have been stuck by lightning. His utter shock at the question was reflected by his parted lips when he went to speak. Instead, no words escaped, and his elegant jaw snapped shut. Hikari simply resumed blowing bubbles, evidently indifferent to the question. JD let forth a bark of surprised laughter, followed by a series of eyebrow wiggles at their shocked boss. The Djinn took it in good humour, simply sighing. Meanwhile, Mac and Aisha shared a knowing look; a secret amongst the pack perhaps. Annabelle appeared rather amused as she cast her sight on Damien, who coughed subtly when faced with the weight of his pack’s stare.

“Most are open. Even the ones in typical relationships.” He strategically answered, his eyes lingering anywhere save the almost smug grins of his pack.

“Its a small community, we don’t judge.” JD chipped in. If the devil was burdened by the focused attention of the room, they didn’t show it as they leaned against the bar. In response to the silence which followed, they gave an all too casual shrug. That irritating silence was broken by Emily, who let out an unspeakably pained groan as her head to fall forwards into her waiting hands with a rather pronounced thud.

“This conversation has veered so far off track it’s stuck in the gutter.” Emily’s voice was muffled by the palms of her clammy hands, which were shielding her face. In another universe, the one flashing behind her closed eyes, this conversation had not taken such a turn. They had remained logical and avoided all embarrassment as they came up with the perfect plan to protect Vanessa. There wouldn’t be a literal pile of attractive Supernaturals snuggling on the beaten down old couch. No devilish devils or sexy, well dressed Djinns making jokes. This wouldn’t have dissolved into a discussion about sexuality... and Emily’s temples wouldn’t be throbbing in time with her marching band for a heart.

“I get it, this topic is uncomfortable. That doesn’t change the fact it would reduce Vanessa’s eligibility to practically zero.”

Whether Aisha was genuinely trying to help, or was teasing was uncertain. Her deep eyes held the gentle understanding of a mother; matured and nurturing with a underlying protectiveness that was enough to knock an elephant off track. However, the subtle tilt of her lips betrayed amusement. Restraint. The entire wolf pack seemed to somehow snuggle closer together.

“Look, I’m not about to go up to my friend and be like Hey, so you’re a virgin. Let’s change that so Dracula won’t sacrifice you. That is so tacky, even a porn film would reject that script!” Emily practically exploded, turning to make endless gestures to emphasise her points. Hands and hips became a second language, crudely mimicking out points in a manner equally as explosive as her booming voice. Honestly, the AUDACITY of these people! If Emily had cared a little less or was just a little braver, she’d have already bitch slapped all of them.

She paused, taking a moment to breathe. Deep breaths. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. Her thumb sought out the small scar across the bridge of her nose when she pinched it, almost as if the gesture could contain the storm about to explode from within her.

“She deserves someone she wants to share her life with, not just some convenient exchange.” Emily concluded, pouring every ounce of sincerity into her words. It was true. Vanessa was a romantic, behind everything. For such a vulnerable thing as physical intimacy, Emily wanted Vanessa to have the dream. The perfect first time. Candles and romance with the person she was in love with. The person she wanted to spend eternity with. Emily couldn’t even imagine a world where she took that away from Vanessa. A world where duty claimed the last piece of Vanessa; the piece only protected by lack of time. It was Vanessa’s ONE true freedom. The only part of her life that the Order hadn’t dictated or infected. How could anybody ask Emily to take that away from Vanessa? How could they even THINK it?

“It’s clear you care about her. That must count for something.” Mac’s gentle tones drew Emily out of her internal raging. When Emily turned her gaze to the Alpha Werewolf, she met kind forest green eyes. Mackenzie Hunt understood, at least enough to sympathise with the Collins girl. Mac bore the weight of her power so well that it was all too easy to forget Mac was only a couple of years older than Emily. As far as werewolves went, Mackenzie Hunt was a young Alpha. Barely more than a pup. Yet, she saw Emily’s struggle. Even without a word of it, she offered her full support. Her approval. Even without being a wolf, Emily could feel the power in it. The warmth that emanated from the Alpha’s care.

“Yeah. A better time.” JD added in a remarkably sincere tone. For a split second, Emily almost believed it. Then, the devil’s lips curled. Moment ruined.

“I’m not listening. La La La.” Emily announced, lifting her hands in a weak effort to cover her ears. Still, she couldn’t help letting her mind wander. What if they didn’t have a choice? Would Vanessa be willing to accept her? Could she even live up to even a single dream or fantasy Vanessa had? Vanessa’s lavender tinged grey eyes were so expressive. Would those purples tinges darken to black with lust? Could Emily hold her gaze, or would Vanessa’s gaze devour her soul? How would Vanessa’s soft skin feel beneath her lips? Would hardened abs twitch underneath loving a kiss? Would Vanessa even want that? Could she have the patience to allow Emily to truly make her feel divine with gentle explorations and sincerely sweetened words? Or would she be inclined to take the reins? How would those battle forged hands explore if given freedom to do so? What would she want? Maybe the whip...

“You’re blushing.” Aisha’s amused tones dragged Emily’s mind from such a salacious place. She had to get out of the bowling alley, before things became even more awkward. Before she started imagining things more explicitly. She lowered her hand to her pocket, wiping clammy palms against the coarse material before she pulled out her phone. A lifeline to save her from humiliation.

“Oh look, I got a text! Gotta go!” She stumbled over her blatant lie in a rush to get the words out. Her phone had not chimed. Without waiting, she broke into a brisk walk towards the door.

“To ensure Helsing’s safety!” Came a quip from behind her. Emily didn’t hesitate in raising her middle finger over her shoulder, shouting out to the chorus of laughter chasing her into the streets.

“LA. LA. FUCKING. LA.”

#lovestruck #Vanessa Helsing #havenfall is for lovers #vanessa x mc #supernaturaldisasters #Everyone is a little gay #fluff and humor

12 notes · View notes

poemsforpersephone · 4 years

Text

I’m on a quest friends! And this quest involves book recs, so I know y’all are gonna be happy haha. I’m still working on my 2019 book rec list, so hopefully this will put you on until then!

So, this is part of The Hanged Man release promo I’m taking part in this month, and the aim of the game is to recommend books that a Tarot Sequence fan would enjoy, and in order to do that I’m dissecting The Last Sun into tropes and then basing book recs off of those tropes. I’m focusing on LGBT inclusive books too, so every book here has some aspect of that.

Found Family/Soul bond: This is literally one of my favourite tropes of all time and it shines through (ha, sun puns) in The Last Sun. The connection between Rune and Brand is the best, as well as the one they share with Quinn, Max and Addam. The following two books excel at found family and the idea of people coming together.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. I think almost everyone and their aunt has read this by now so i’ll make it snappy; Six of Crows is a great example of a group of people coming together for a reason and becoming an odd little family on the weirdest of terms. There’s also the magic element that I love in this duology, which is another reason I wanted to rec it, I think fans of the magic system in the Last Sun would potentially enjoy this too.

Crown of Feathers by Nicki PauPreto. I ALMOST put this under world building because i love the world that this book introduces. It’s very fantasy heavy and well crafted. “Crown of Feathers is an epic fantasy about love’s incredible power to save—or to destroy.” THERE ARE PHOENIXES PEOPLE. The soul bond here comes into effect between the main characters and their phoenixes who act as companions, hence the rec.

Kick Ass/Powerful Protagonist: Rune is, above all, able to kick everyone’s butt to the sun and back (no, i’m not going to stop. get used to it!) So if that’s a quality you really wanna explore more of, start with these books.

The Batwoman comic series is a great series. Lesbian badass main character and beautiful art work. I’m still new to the world of figuring out where to start with reading a series but a good place to begin with Batwoman, I’ve found, is with the new 52 run, or with the rebirth run.

The Lightning Struck Heart by T.J. Klune. Fans of The Last Sun will definitely love this one. The writing has a similar kind of humour, there’s magic AND the main character is absolutely able to kick everyone’s butt.

Dreadnaught by April Daniels. Main character is transgender and very, very powerful. Danny basically inherits superheros powers when they die in front of her, and she has to figure out how to adapt to her new life as a cape wearing crime fighting master.

Fantastic World Building: I mean, what more do I need to say? I can’t fit another pun in here though, it i-sun-t possible... >:D

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon has literally one of the best cases of world building i’ve ever experienced? It isn’t urban fantasy but it IS fantasy and there ARE dragons and really what more could a person need. What? You DO want more? Well fine. There’s also some fantastic characterisation at play, and there’s some great representation! including two women who dig women (romantically... not with a shovel).

The Abyss Surrounds Us by Emily Skrutskie. “Cas has fought pirates her entire life. But can she survive living among them?” This could have easily gone under Kick Ass Protag too, and also kind of soul bond/companion bond, but I chose to put it under here because I really liked the way the world building worked? It’s unique and interesting.

Urban Magicy Vibe: Listen, it’s a title okay. It doesn’t always have to sound epic it just has to explain things. The books under this category are here because they have main characters who aren’t heterosexual and the vibes of the stories give me similar urban magicy vibes to The Last Sun. Also, in most of these cases the sense of humour matches up quite well to the one found in The Last Sun too, so I’ve just put the summary next to them instead of a full on explanation because I’d be saying the same thing over and over again haha.

The Fever King by Victoria Lee. “In the former United States, sixteen-year-old Noam Álvaro wakes up in a hospital bed, the sole survivor of the viral magic that killed his family and made him a technopath.” Need I say more?

A Ferry of Bones and Gold by Hailey Turner. “Patrick Collins is three years into a career as a special agent for the Supernatural Operations Agency when the gods come calling to collect a soul debt he owes them.” (I really, really like the front cover on this one. I know that’s random, but it’s just so pretty??)

Dim Sum Asylum by Rhys Ford. “Welcome to Dim Sum Asylum: a San Francisco where it’s a ho-hum kind of case when a cop has to chase down an enchanted two-foot-tall shrine god statue with an impressive Fu Manchu mustache that's running around Chinatown, trolling sex magic and chaos in its wake.”

Iron & Velvet by Alexis Hall. “My name’s Kate Kane, and when an eight-hundred-year-old vampire prince came to me with a case, I should have told her no. But I’ve always been a sucker for a femme fatale.” (This one is a particular favourite of mine!)

By Fairy Means or Foul by Meghan Maslow. “The last thing half-dragon, half-fairy private investigator Twig Starfig wants to do is retrieve a stolen enchanted horn from a treacherous fae, but there’s no denying the dazzlingly gorgeous unicorn who asks Twig to do just that.”

The Enchanter’s Flame by Michele Notaro. “Strange things are happening all around Brinnswick. Things that remind me of a piece of my past I’d rather forget. Girls are being killed, drained of blood, and left with strange markings on their bodies. When I finally connect the cases together, a specialist is called in—though, what he’s a specialist of is beyond me.”

Anhaga by Lisa Henry. “Aramin Decourcey—Min to his few friends—might be the best thief in Amberwich, and he might have a secret that helps him survive the cutthroat world of aristocratic families and their powerful magic users, but he does have one weakness: his affection for his adopted nephew, Harry.” Full disclosure, I haven’t read this one yet, but I’ve heard good things and it does sound like the kind of book that a Last Sun fan would enjoy (hence me wanting to read it in the first place haha).

So there we have it! I might make another of these if I can think of anything else that a fan of The Last Sun might enjoy (and for those of you who have read some of these books and enjoyed them but NOT read The Last Sun, you should do that! It’s fantastic!)

#scionsofatlantis #hangedmanpromo #sunsoutgunsout #book recs #lgbt book recs #the hanged man #the last sun

40 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Rumplestiltskin, Branwen Barber

Summary: Branwen is growing up

Pairings: Branwen/Lance X Chase, Branwen X Dove, Branwen X the Bears

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings: none, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Oh my little raven,” Lance bounces the baby in his arms, trying to get her to stop crying to no avail. “Branwen, my darling, I don’t understand.”

Chase growls. His head resting in his hand, before he looks up from his thorned throne, slamming the hand on the armrest, and it only makes her cry harder. “Would you get that thing to shut up. I thought she would be an asset to us, but instead she’s giving away our location with her shrill cries. Take her to her mother.”

Branwen’s golden eyes start to get darker and she lifts up out of Lance’s arms and cries directly at the other faerie, “I have told you she’s smart. She won’t take kindly to screaming at her,” she reaches towards the exits. Her fist curling up, making grabby hands. “Is that what you want? You need your mother?”

“Get rid of it. I will have her left in the woods for Geralt to carry her off. Leaving nothing but her scattered bones in the forest,” looking back at Chase her screams reach a high pitch that rattles the walls. Even Andy searching in the forest, stills, listening further.

“You beastly! Lance control the brat.”

“Maybe if you didn’t give her juice made from the golden apples she wouldn’t be acting like this!”

“Maybe if you would have milked the fucking cow she would have something to drink,” Branwen slaps at Lance’s arm, growling at him. “Baah! To you, too.”

Lance looks down to her chubby little arm, pulling at a few black feathers on her. She turns to look at him pouting, “They’re attached. What did you do?”

“Good. She can be our little spy and eyes of the sky. Are you becoming what your name means?”

“Chase, these are raven feathers.”

“So they are.”

“I’m going to Aurelia’s tower. And I’m staying, and will try to figure out how I’m supposed to teach a baby how to use powers. She only crawls and she’s sprouting feathers! You’re the vilest of monsters in the forest,” Chase shrugs his shoulders, and flicks his hand towards the door. “How many apples have you eaten?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I feel sorry for you.”

Chase’s nose curls up in a snarl. Gritting his teeth, he clings tightly to his throne, “You think you’re better than me because your feathers change colors. The demon faerie turning back into an Angel. Why don’t you go live with Castiel, and explain to him what you did. How you took a baby from her father. And how you don’t know how to make deals with humans.”

“Aurelia was born of magic! And you know. You have her mother in a well. It would be near impossible to trick her.”

“The damn mermaid wasn’t cooperating. I need ears and eyes on land, water, and the air. And that little brat will be next,” Lance launches himself into the air to go to you, ignoring his tyrant bother all together. “She will be mine. As soon as the laws that bind me from making deals with children end. She will be mine.”

Lance lands softly into your room, setting Branwen on the bed, and the baby crawls up your body, laying belly down on your stomach, while her head rests on your chest, “Mama.”

“Yes, my beautiful raven. That’s your mama,” walking closer to her, he pets along the feathers on her arm, and she hides her arm from him, pouting and shaking her head no. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m curious. I think you may be covered in feathers one day. But those only appear when you’re angry. Look.”

She brings her arm back, and they both watch as one dissolves back into her skin. “Your mother relaxes you, huh? I’m sorry, my child,” he regretfully answers. Walking towards your bed, he brushes the hair off your face. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Branwen’s eyes get heavier, and her hand reaches for her arm. Without thinking, Lance pulls up your arm to lay over her body. It was a pitiful way for her to hold Branwen. “Your mother saw past my corrupt heart. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Dada.”

“No, darling, your daddy would take you away from me. Men in the forest are not to be trusted. You never know what they are capable of. Now, sleep. And when you wake, you can have your apple juice,” her lips smack as her eyes fully close. This was the best way for her to sleep. She felt most at ease when she was with you.

Lance sits on a chair close by watching the two of you, if he had to do it again, he’d never taken you. He would have left you and Branwen to be found by Andy. Ready to gravel at his feet while he begged for forgiveness. And now he thinks he’s just too far gone. Needing to keep the charade up a bit more.

Branwen walks through the forest, having heard people’s voices. Pushing back branches as she gets closer to a woman with a swollen stomach, holding a toddler over her head smiling. A man rests his hand on her belly, smiling up at the little girl, and they both giggle up at her.

Getting too close, a she steps on a fallen branch, and the crack alert the couple, and she starts to retreat. “Bucky, there’s a little girl.”

He stands up, blocking his wife and daughter, trying to get closer to her, “Are you alone?”

“Don’t eat me,” Branwen cowers away. Her fear making her transformation impossible. “I can’t fly away. Please don’t eat me.”

“I don’t eat children. Are you alone?”

“I’m supposed to be watching the woods for my uncle.”

Bucky turns back to the woman, giving her an odd look before stepping closer to her, “Where’s your mother?”

“Asleep in the tower. You won’t eat me?” She trembles, trying to look around at you, and gives you the most pitiful look.”

“Would you like some food? Water?”

“Dove!”

“Bucky, this is a child. I am a mother, and she’s alone in the forest, if you and the others can not protect me, Orla, and this unborn baby from a child, there is something clearly wrong. Come on, little one. What’s your name?”

Never give them your real name, Lance’s voice is clear in her head. “Raven.”

“That’s a beautiful name. Come on. You’re a bit older than my daughter Orla, but I’m sure you two can play. Do you have brothers and sisters?” Branwen shakes her head reaching out to grab the woman’s hand. “Don’t worry, Bucky is a lot scarier looking that he actually is.”

“If anything should happen to you or the babies, I…”

“Nothing will happen, James. She’s fine.”

——

Artie tries gathering his sisters up from foraging in the forest, “Eden, Calysta, can you quit rolling around, and grab your baskets.”

The twin girls giggle as they continue to spin around until they get dizzy, and falling to the floor. “No wonder daddy and papa have doubts you’ll turn into a bear,” a girl dressed in all black, a several years older than Artie drops to the floor, and both girls scream running behind their brother.

He backs them up slowly, trying to get close enough to the cottage to call out to his fathers. “What do you mean they’ll turn into a bear?”

“We’re werebears,” he whispers, getting ever closer to the cottage.

“So you drink apple juice everyday? Am I a wereraven?”

“What are you talking about?” He looks back at his sister, “Fetch papa and daddy,” looking back at Branwen she lets a few feathers sprout on her arm. “I don’t want to hurt you, bird. My fathers are a grizzly and kodiak. And they’ll eat you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m curious. I’ve never met anyone that can change into an animal.”

“Artie,” Eden gives her big brother a tug on his arm, and he glances back swishing his head towards the cottage. “She’s pretty. Do you growl?”

“Ravens don’t growl,” she giggles. Sitting down on the ground. “Did you know that the name Eden means blessed bear and Calysta means most beautiful and is in a bear constellation. Artie? Is that short for Arthur?”

“Yes!” Eden says, grabbing her sisters hand to sit in front of the girl. “He’s already turned. He’s a polar bear.”

“Ahh, the white and noble bear. His name literally means bear,” Arthur wants to get his dads. But he couldn’t leave his sisters. “And do you guys turn, too?”

“They haven’t,” Calysta pouts back at her brother, while Eden slaps her hand on the floor. “They probably won’t.”

“Artie only changed because Sadie was threatened,” Calysta giggles. Both girls collapse on each other all giggly again.

“Sadie Barnes?” They both laugh out a yes, and Brawnwen looks up at him. “I know her. And Orla. Are there other bears?”

“Koda!” Eden squeaks. Both girls now giddy and in tears with laughter.

“Koda, little bear,” she smiles, reaching a hand out to the girls.

“Don’t touch them?” Arthur’s skin prickles up, and he shakes his head. “Please, I can’t control the anger just yet.”

“Artie! Eden! Calysta!”

“That’s our mama!” Calysta jumps up, running towards her voice, and grabs a hold of her mother’s legs with Eden shortly behind.

You walk to see your handsome boy, trying to control his urge to change, and you press his head against your side, “Artie, you are a sweet boy. You don’t have to fear the change. You are protective and fierce and…oh! Sy! Ari! Koda, fetch Papa and Daddy,” the chubby cubby boy waddles off to get his dad, and she rubs her hand over her little bump.

“Son, is this why your changing?”

“Yes, mama,” he turns his piercing eyes away from Branwen who starts to back away. Two giant men run to her side, and one scoops up both girls, while the other stands in front of her, bringing his son by his side.

“Who are you?” His voice growls out.

“Raven. I’m just girl.”

“Sy,” her hand holds onto his arm, “She’s shaking. Where did you come from?”

“The tower. I heard him say the girls wouldn’t turn into bears. I’m just curious,” the woman tilts her head to the side looking at her, “I turn into a raven. I don’t mean any harm.”

“Birth or magic?” Sy grunts again.

“I’ve always done this, as long as I can remember. I don’t mean any harm.”

“Daddy, she’s nice,” the woman smiles at her.

“She is,” the twins say in Ari’s arms. “She told us our name meanings.”

“Daddy, Papa I think we can let her come into the cottage. Talk to her about changing. What harm could come of that?”

Ari leans his head back on the wall. Sitting outside his daughters’ room because his wife had insisted to let the girl stay. Her hand grazes under his chin, before she struggles to sit in the hallway with him. “You should get some rest.”

“As should you. She’s just a child.”

“Who came from where? Where are her parents? Who is she? Have you ever heard of someone who could turn into a raven?”

“No,” she answers quickly, grabbing his hands, “But I had never heard of werebears until I came into the forest. And now I can’t get away from them. Why such hatred for the child?”

“It’s not hatred, Goldie,” Sy joins the two of them in the floor. “It’s fear. Our cubs and you are in here. Artie fears he can’t control himself as a bear, because of the stupid faerie, Castiel who makes a point to show up every year, and every cub that’s born,” his hand presses against her stomach, and his clicks his tongue, “Our job is to protect you.”

“And my job is to be a mother. And she needs one.”

“Goldie, I know what you’re doing,” Ari pushes back her baby hairs, and gets closer to her. “She’s a mystery. And she is no child. She’s nearly grown.”

“She acts as if she’s alone. And she has a chain around her neck. What if she’s in trouble?”

“It’s a necklace,” Sy moves to stand up, extending a hand down to her. “You need rest. Let Ari watch over the girls. Koda is asleep in the bed.”

“That is a chain. I don’t care what you say. We need to inform Castiel and…”

“Goldie, bed,” Sy pulls her up, looking down at Ari as she walks into their room. “Do you think this is the girl that Dean was talking about?”

“I thought it was just a necklace,” Sy gives a low growl, and Ari shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t want Goldie to worry about it. She’s carrying our cub. Whoever this is, she won’t be left alone with our giggle boxes that I fear don’t have enough anger to turn into a bear. And I will refuse to let that faerie continue to check on Artie if he makes him feel that amount of fear. He would never hurt his mom or siblings. Didn’t even hurt Sadie.”

“Sadie,” Sy smiles. “Bucky is going to love them when they get older.”

“Go tend to our wife. I’ve got the twins.”

“Koda is in the bed with us. There won’t be any tending.”

“Good. I get jealous when I’m not present. Go. I’m sure she’s harmless. But just need to be on the safe side.”

Branwen blinks her eyes slowly. Hearing every word from the three outside. The only children she had ever met had more than one father, while she didn’t have any. She had been shown immense love from women that didn’t even know her, but her own mother was in an ageless sleep. Her own body now nearly caught up with her mother’s. It wasn’t fair.

Her chain around her neck gives a small tug, but she ignores it. She’ll spend tonight at the bears house, and in the morning she would fly to their cave. Refusing to give any information to Chase before she spends the rest of the day with her Papa. She lets her eyes close softly before letting sleep take over her. Feeling warm and loved in this cottage, even if the men did not trust her. She understood why they didn’t. She wouldn’t either.

Branwen had a fear that the drinking of the apple juice would turn her corrupt just like the faeries, but alas it had not. Instead of scouting the skies, she now spent her days trying to find children to make her feel like her life had a meaning. Growing up alone and with only faeries was no fun. But the forest was full of them. Even though now she was far past her age of playing with children.

She was no longer a child, even if she wanted to be. It only meant that too many years had passed, and didn’t appear that her father was any closer to finding her mother. Not yet anyways. But maybe one day. One day, she knew they would all be reunited again, and she would finally get to hear her mother’s voice. No longer would she have to wrap your arms around her, you would just be able to hold her. One day.

Masterlist

#rumplestiltskin #rumplestiltskin drabble #lance tucker #fae!lance tucker #lance tucker x oc #lance tucker x branwen barber #chase collins #chase collins x oc #chase collins x branwen barber #fae!chase collins #into the woods verse

48 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

Moon Rituals, Part 3

Summary: what did you learn

Pairings: Chase Collins X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: lap riding, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.3K

Series Masterlist

Nervously you wait at the edge of the mushrooms for Chase. There was so much to discuss with him, and all that you had learned from Morgan and Chase’s kinfolk. This changed things. It made what you and Chase were in the process of doing seem much more worth it. You could bring on a new age of moon sprites. You would no longer be alone.

You hear his boots clomping through the forest before you emerge. Getting pulled back by quite a small pixie, “Please, My Queen, don’t go. Revel in the moonlight with your kind.”

“Chase is my kind. He bears my marks, and he will soon be truly mine. Stay in here, so Jenny won’t get you though,” he gives you a pitiful little pout as you step out into the moonlight, and it was as if the moon was directly on you and Chase. Watching as you told him a bit more about your fate. “You’re late, Chase Collins.”

“You’re keeping up with me,” he gives you a little smirk as he gently holds onto your forearms. His fingers drawing shapes on them, “You’re warm.”

“I’m happy,” leaning forward he presses a chaste kiss along your cheek, before sitting on the forest floor, rubbing his lap enticingly. “What is it that you want?”

“I want you to sit in my lap, and tell me about your day. That shouldn’t be too hard, right, My Queen?” Rucking up your dress, you straddle his lap, looking directly at him. Things were so much more intimate now. You could feel his sexual hunger through your bond. Could feel his anxiety grow as he was further away from you.

Looking up to the sky, you look at the moon, and softly close your eyes, “The festival is tomorrow, are you nervous?”

“No,” he shows you his palms and the burned moons in his skin, “You have sworn yourself to me, and I you. What did you learn from Morgan Le Fey? Good news I hope.”

“You’re descended from a very powerful family, did you know?” Chase gives you a quick nod, while his hands massage over your legs. “Morgan is very much in love with your lost relative Goody Pope. They were bonded to each other. Not quite like we would be.”

“How so?” Chase looks down at your lap, and doesn’t draw attention to the slow gyrating you were doing with your hips, only pushes you further into his lap where his bulge was right at your core. Grinding over it just felt natural.

“Our situation is different, Morgan is not of a royal standing. The Moon Sprites are no more. Just myself. It’s prophesied,” you stutter a moment, gulping at the pleasure that was blooming in your stomach. Ignoring how quiet the forest had grown. Adoring how Chase’s eyes looked brighter blue in this light, almost as if they were glowing and silver.

“I am to change the bloodline,” you stutter as heat pools to your core, your pace growing as you look at them. “Create a new world of Moon Sprites. Powers beyond our former glory. Powers from a witch and a faerie,” his fingers dig into your ass while your back arches up, and you start panting. “A true binding of our souls, our lines, our magic. It won’t be as strong, but it will be pure, wild, and different. It won’t…won’t…Chase it won’t…” he gives you a kiss to your temple as you finish out this ride.

Faeries from the guard stand excited around the edge of the forest, and staring at the two of you. Salivating as you search for something. Search for your words. For this impending high that was stopping other thoughts. It was just Chase. There was nothing more. Leaning your head back you bask in the moon’s barely there light. Whispering up at her like a prayer until the damn breaks, and you press your forehead against his. His petal pink lips brushes the softest kisses against yours, and he smiles at your labored breath.

“She’s his.” “The process is nearly complete.” “The official binding is well underway.” “Drink of her! Taste her!” “Finish the process, mortal!”

Chase’s fingers slide up your leg, connecting to your drenched folds. “Don’t enter me,” you answer nervously, but he swipes a finger up your slit. Bringing his fingers up to look at your slick. Twisting his fingers into the night before stuffing them in his mouth, sucking on each one like he was tasting the most delectable dessert. Gazing up at the moon before he pulls you in for a bruising kiss.

Giving your greedy tongue a suck, and you taste yourself on him. Moaning out his name, while the other faeries begin to back away. Their mischievous grins look up at the moon until they bow to the moon, and to her almost reborn children. A screech in the distance sounds out, but it was as if you and Chase were in a protective bubble, and heard nothing. Nothing else mattered. And you hold both his hands in your own, pointing them to the sky.

A tall figure and one wretched crooked one bow in the darkness, before making their way back to their cabin. It was official, and they were soon to give their life for your own.

Chase cups your cheek, running his thumb over your kiss swollen lips before pressing it into your mouth. You give the digit a bit of a suck watching him. “Tomorrow night, you can enter me. The use of your magic…” you pull his thumb out of your mouth, tracing the blackened new moon on his hand. “It won’t age you. You’ll be willing your magic to me. We have a duty though.”

“Does it have to start right away? Like we’re bound together, but I have to give you babies immediately,” you shake your head no, with a smile. “I’m confused, my queen. What does this mean?”

“It is prophesied, it will happen when it shall happen. Until then, we have fun. Play with our new powers. Discover one another. I will lose my wings, but I don’t use them anyways. I will become more human than fae. But we rebirth a species. Making it better than the generation before. They will be more powerful than us.”

“And I’m immortal?”

“Of course. We will be trapped in this state forever. We will be together forever. Should one of us hurt, the other shall hurt. If one dies, so does the other. We will be one. We will be…”

“Of the moon,” Chase states, as he gently kisses you. “And we can never go within your faerie circle again, hmm?”

“We must create our own. But we can live amongst mortals. Have a relatively normal life.”

“I don’t want to be normal,” he gives you a little nibble on your lip. “I want to be extraordinary. I want to be…yours.”

“You are,” your voice squeaks, and you find yourself circling your arms around him, and pulling him closer. He was never close enough. “You will always be mine. Remember, your powers will not be as great, but you still will be more powerful than any witch,” his smile flashes sinister for just a moment, and you shake your head no, “There’s a process, Chase Collins. And I’m not just saying that. I’ve heard about you and your coven. Heard how you wanted to force someone to will you their powers. I’m aware you’re not innocent. But you soon will share in my innocence.”

“What?” Grabbing his hand, you push it up against your core, sighing in pleasure. “What does that mean?”

“We become one. We share the experience during that. I’m giving you my innocence. There will be a change in you. I must go. If you want to finish the ritual, I shall see you at the beginning of the festival. Should you not, in time your burns will fade, and both our bloodlines will die out. Farewell, Chase Collins. I hope to see you soon.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @whimsyplaty92 @potatothots @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10

#moon rituatls #chase collins #chase collins x reader #chase collins x fem!reader #chase collins x fae!reader #chase collins x y/n #chase collins x you #chase collins smut #the covenant #The Covenant fanfiction #the covenant fanfic #chase collins fanfiction #chase collins fanfic #chase collins fic #chase collins fics

44 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

Text

Moon Rituals Masterlist

As the last Moon Sprite you should stay safe behind your Faerie Ring but when a handsome Chase Collins waits for a Faerie outside of the ring. What does the witch want?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Drabbles

Whipping, Here Kitty, Kitty

A/N: This series will have themes of lies, made up rituals, sex rituals, branding, made up lore, etc. Please read all before reading. Minors DNI. You are the one responsible for the content you consume.

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

#Moon rituals #moon rituals au #chase collins #chase collins x reader #chase collins x fae!reader #fae!reader #fae #moonsprite #moon sprite #the covenant fanfic #the covenant #chase collins fanfiction #chase collins fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan character x reader

111 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

Text

Moon Rituals, Part 1

Summary: You meet Chase Collins for the first time

Pairings: Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings for this part, but as the story progresses so will the warnings, so be forewarned it will not stay mild. 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Doing this as a prequel to the Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty one shot. I felt this had potential to be more…so let’s see

Series Masterlist

You had never been outside of the Faerie Ring. The brightly colored toadstools of various sizes, colors, and even shapes, circle around the largest oak in the forest. The Faerie Ring keeps you, a member of the illustrious Unseelie Court, safe. The last of the Moon Sprites. You weren’t as powerful as some of the Fae Folk, but you were still of royal blood. Protected by the Unseelie Court, especially during moon phase celebrations. The moon being one of the most important entities to the Unseelie Court.

Your handmaiden Elswyth annoyingly goes everywhere with you. Even when you sit at the edge of the Faerie Ring, for no reason. You can’t help but wonder what’s beyond the ring. Sitting at the edge daydreaming about revelry in their world. The other fae talk about them like it’s a disease. They are dangerous. They would cause harm. But would they if they didn’t know about your heritage?

All fae possess the power of glamour. Which comes in handy considering you’re a fae with wings. Wings that are taller than you, extending above your head, with delicate tails that drag the ground. Fae not of royal blood don’t have such large wings. Wings with the most beautiful shades of twilight, deep blues that intertwine together and fade into a nearly silver white. Delicate but strong wings. And you stick out because of them.

Most of the Unseelie Court who have wings, have wings with black, purple, or silvery white. Their wings are more like gossamer, sheer, and more for looks than functionality. The Unseelie Court is not as strong as it once was. Faerie Courts have broken down into smaller courts; The Summer Court, the Autumn Court, the Dark Court, The Winter Court, The Shadow Court, The High Court. The Unseelie and Seelie Courts are dwindling down. Even talks of you needing to move to the Shadow Court, but no longer do you want to be cooped up in this stupid Ring, or behind another Ring for that matter.

Just to test out if there’s any alarms that might go off if you happen to leave the Ring you pop out one of your indigo stocking clad feet beyond the Ring. Resting it outside, for once Elswyth is nowhere to be found, and for once you feel at peace. That is until you hear the rustling of the leaves. Unquietly your foot slips back into the safety of the ring.

A handsome man with a square jaw, brunette hair with soft curls, that is styled perfectly walked into your forest. You know he can’t see you on the other side of the ring, but his piercing blue eyes stare right into your soul. His mouth cocks to the side as he looks at the ring that surrounds your home, “Faerie folks are in old oaks.” Kicking around at the dried leaves his gaze sets back upon you, “Is that true?”

You gasp. Not only does it appear that he looks right at you, but he knows of the fae, and if that’s true he knows what the ring of toadstools means. His hand rubs along his jaw, and he steps closer to the ring. Going against everything you’ve been taught you dare to stick your head out at the man. “Please don’t. You’ll be trapped here for seven years.”

“So, it is true.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“What are you?” he asks, his face holds a kindness, but his eyes they hold a darkness in them.

“A Moon Sprite. Last of my kind,” you know he probably doesn’t know what that is, nor would it matter.

“What court do you belong to Moonbeam?” you can’t help but have butterflies in your stomach at the nickname he gave you. Affiliating you with your affinity. Little does he know the nights you have danced in moonbeams, soaking up their power for your own.

“The Unseelie Court. How do you know so much about the fae, sir?” you dare to poke even more of your body out of the ring, your shoulders now exposed to the handsome stranger.

“I’m a witch.”

You roll your eyes at him, “They no longer exist, sir. They allowed their powers to die out. Too weak for the growing world. All because they wanted to be acclimated with humans.”

The stranger doesn’t answer you, but his eyes cast over with the blackest black, blocking out his bright sapphire eyes. The wind stirs in the forest and wiggles around the toadstools, breaking a few off of the thick ring. “Stop, sir.”

“I had to prove myself. You believe me?” you nod at him. “Are you not going to step outside the ring?”

“Not today, sir. Us fae don’t trust witches.”

“Because we possess real powers?” he asks with a crooked grin.

“Because you know our weaknesses. You live amongst humans, and you taught them our secrets.”

“I didn’t,” quickly his hand comes up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

“Please don’t sir,” your body lurches back after letting his soft warm hands touch your cold skin.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Moonbeam.”

“Then what is your name?” it’s occurred to you that you haven’t given him a name either.

“Chase Collins,” his head tilts towards you, wanting you to offer up your name.

“Moonbeam,” your faerie giggle rings out into the forest. Stirring the guards outside the ring to your presence. In the pond nearby a green lady emerges at hearing the last moon sprite outside of the ring. Her mouth set to attack to protect you from the stranger. Chase’s body looks around the forest. His eyes spotting the random fae throughout to protect the Ring. “Fae don’t give out our names, Chase Collins. A name holds power. If I give you my name, then you have power over me, and you are a witch. I can’t let you have that, sir.” “Does that mean you have power over me?” you nod your head.

“Goodbye, Chase Collins.”

“Wait! Can I come see you again?” your eyes look up at the sky to view the moon, needing to know what phase it is in. A few more days until a half moon, you shouldn’t be out of the ring during a full moon, not a Moon Sprite.

“Yes, tomorrow. Twilight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase Collins.”

“Will I get to see you fully?” he gives you a boyish grin, biting on his lip.

“Perhaps,” Jenny Greenteeth exposes her sharp teeth, hissing at the stranger. “Come alone.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” he nods over to Jenny, looking and seeing more of the fae, walking closer to him.

“Enough you lot,” you command them. Because you are of royal blood they cease their movements.

“You have that power over them?”

“I’m of royal blood Chase Collins. They are my subjects.”

“Tomorrow,” he bids you farewell. Walking confidently through the forest. Eyeing each of the fae before he’s out of sight.

“Your Highness, you know not what he wants. Witches can’t be trusted,” Jenny warns you. Her body sliding further into the pond.

“What would you know? No one inside the ring knows about his visit. Are we understood?” another command to your subjects. They nod their head. “I’ll allow you to guard me tomorrow.”

“Do not step outside the ring,” is Jenny’s final warning before fully becoming the duckweed again. You fully go back into the ring, with a bigger smile than you have had in thousands of years. Feeling like for the first time you aren’t alone.

It took some time to pull yourself away from the court to make it back out to the edge of the Ring. Thankfully the majority of the Unseelie are scared of the edge. Untrusting of “out there”. You see Chase Collins before you get to the edge. His body planted on the forest floor, legs crossed, waiting for you. His long fingers tap along his khaki peacoat. His eyes daring a glance at Jenny.

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Jenny’s voice rings out. A sharp shrillness that most humans find detestable.

“She’ll show,” he assures her. Never exhibiting that he’s scared of her.

You sit on your calves. Giving you the ability to lean your head out of the Ring right at his eye level. He jolts at the sudden intrusion in his space. Your tinkling laugh echoes through the forest, stirring the guards at your body in the outside world.

“Are you really not coming out?”

“Not today, Chase Collins. I was told not to trust witches. What brings you out to find a Faerie Ring anyways?” you can’t help but smile at his boyishly handsome face. Fae don’t look like him. In all your thousands of years, you’ve never met anyone like him.

“I heard stories. Wanted to see if you existed. When I learned of an extremely old oak in the area, I had to investigate. Can I not come into the ring?”

“You could,” your head nods at him. “But you would be trapped. It would feel a mere few hours, until you stepped outside the ring. Seven years will pass.”

“My Qu… you shouldn’t speak our secrets. Humans can become our pets,” Jenny’s ever worried tone speaks at you. Nearly spilling your biggest secret.

“Chase Collins is not a human. He is a witch,” your eyes never leave his. The crystal blue nearly putting you in a spell before you quickly look away.

“I may be a witch, but you do hold power over me, since you know my name. You can just call me Chase though.”

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, “Is your name Chase Collins or not?”

“It is. Us humans typically only use first names.”

“Seems informal, Chase Collins,” his long fingers pet along your cheek again.

“As does Moonbeam, My Queen,” a wicked grin crosses his face. Jenny’s voice hisses at him, while her body crawls out of the muck. Red Caps, sprites, pixies, goblins, and such all march towards him.

“You shouldn’t have said that, witch,” Jenny’s voice screams at him.

“Make them stop,” his voice quietly begs. His eyes darken to black.

“St-st-stop,” your voice cracks, and none of them listen. Your whole body emerges from the ring, extending your wings for the guards and Chase to see. His body backs away from you slightly. Eyes wide as he takes in your full appearance. Your hair and eyes turning to silver, reflecting the barely there moon. Your dress indigo and cobalt, with the deepest leather arm wraps tied tightly around your biceps in intricate patterns. Extending your wings, you show your true form. The fae stop, bowing down to you. “This one is not to be harmed, you lot. Now be gone.” With their retreating feet, your form shrinks back. Ears no longer pointed, your wings go to your back, creating a train for your dress.

Chases’ body walks closer to you. “My Queen,” he bows, holding his posture, before his head turns to look up at you.

“Please get up Chase Collins.” Chase grabs for your hand, gently kissing it, and you nearly melt at his touch. “I should go,” your voice shaky with the power that his lips left behind.

“Please, don’t. You only just go here.”

“Chase Collins, you should forget this place,” he doesn’t have your name, and already you feel him holding a power over you. You’re a young and naïve Moon Sprite. You have no business consummating with humans, much less witches. Humans live for far less a time than you do, and witches cannot be trusted.

“No, don’t say that, Moonbeam. I… whatever I did I apologize,” his voice sincere. The wicked look he normally carries disappearing.

“Witches can’t be trusted, Chase Collins.”

“Tomorrow?” he begs, his voice nearly cracking. “Please.”

“I won’t be coming out of the Ring,” your body walks backwards to the ring, but your wrists are grabbed tightly by Chase’s hands. A small yelp exists your mouth, but none of your guards stir.

“Promise me. Or I take you with me.”

“Chase…”

“Promise me,” the darkness in his eyes is evident as you struggle to get away, nearly breaking free before the complete obsidian black coats his eyes.

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

“Outside of the ring,” his hands loosen their grip, but his onyx eyes get even darker.

“You won’t take me?” the movement of your body stops. You now have no desire to move back within the safety of your Ring.

“Not tomorrow.”

Masterlist

#moon rituals #moon rituals au #chase collins #chase collins x reader #chase collins x fae!reader #the covenant #the covenant fanfic #chase collins fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan character x reader

62 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

Text

Moon Rituals, Part 2

Summary: You continue to meet with Chase, wanting him to join in on the Festival of the Blood Moon, but you have to protect him.

Pairings: Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: implied binding to someone with magic, branding, kissing, mentions of sacrifice, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist

“You promise, Chase Collins?” you ask finally slipping out of the ring.

“There she is. I knew you would come,” he grabs your arm through the ring, pulling you out to him. This time his eyes don’t go onyx, but you still feel the power he possesses over you.

“You sure you didn’t Chase Collins?” he shakes his head no, and you cross your legs sitting on the forest floor, he soon follows. “What made you search out a Faerie Ring?”

“Very few people in my world I feel connected with. I was cast out by my coven.”

“Why? Did you do something?” you watch his face change, but it still doesn’t give nothing away. There’s almost a sweetness to him.

“No. Just had too much power. My father willed his powers to me. Making me even more powerful. People are scared of power. Like your subjects, my Queen,” his moth turns up into a crooked smirk.

“I asked you not to call me that Chase Collins,” your body moves further from his. Ready to back behind the toadstools.

“And why not?”

“Exactly why would you want that, Chase Collins?”

“What’s in it for you?” he shrugs his shoulder. “What’s in it for me?”

“Be near me?” you nod your head. “So, how quickly can I do all those things you mentioned? I can promise my fealty now. Not sure about all that other stuff.”

“It’s not that simple. You’re a witch you know there’s rituals to all of that,” you glance back up at your mother moon. “It’s almost the Blood Moon. Autumn is coming in celebration. We would have to…I don’t know if you would be welcome inside the circle Chase…”

“I’ve done the festival enough to know the correct way. We’ll have to take precautions though.”

“Why’s that?” still you two lean achingly slowly together.

“Because…” you can’t finish because his soft blush pink lips connect to yours, and the spark that you had been feeling, burns through your blood. You pull away quickly and gasp. “Chase…”

“You feel it too. But what precautions do we need to take.”

“It’s not official my Queen,” her body moving ever closer to you, ignoring your threat from yesterday.

“Shall I make it official?”

A particularly small pixie comes to your side, “My Queen, you know not who you are binding yourself to. Witches mean harm to us. Do you not see the darkness in his eyes?”

“What is she talking about?” Chase’s piercing eyes finally find yours.

“What do I get? Absolute is…permanent.”

“Do you not get your powers from the other fae?”

“No, my powers come from the moon. I’m a Moon Sprite. If you wish to start this process, I need to protect you. I couldn’t have you being hunted.”

“How do we do that?” your body crawls over to him. Finding a comfy place on his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting on her,” your eyes look up at the sky. The moon barely peeking through a cloud. “Give me your hands.”

“My Queen,” Jenny’s hissing voice screeches through the night air.

“Not yet, your Grace,” the forest erupts with shocked sounds.

“Why did you call me that?”

“We’ve started the process. You’re becoming my equal.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just…I want you.”

“I can tell. The first full moon after the festival.”

“We have to wait that long?” nodding your head yes, he sighs. “It’ll be worth the wait.”

“You really are dark,” he chuckles. “But we can stop at any time before?” he watches your face fall. “Not that I want to. Absolute is…it’s final. Would I even be protected from witches’ laws?”

“Such as what?” you go to get off Chase’s lap, but he holds you tightly to him.

“Using my powers can, drain me.”

“Is this what this is about? I thought…” questions run through your eyes. Thankful you haven’t gone further.

“No! Not at all. There’s a moon ritual that gives you my powers as well, I would do it. But the thought of using my powers and draining myself, you in the process…you get what I’m saying?” his hands coax down your arms, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“I need to ask. You want to will your powers to me?” you can’t deny the bubbly warmth you feel. Never heading the warning that you can’t trust witches. “Morgan Le Fey would know more.”

“Too many people shouldn’t know about us.” He’s right. The more people that know the more you two are in danger, and it’s still not official.

“I should go. Tomorrow, Chase. In our spot.”

“I need to discuss things with you. In utmost secrecy.”

“Well, yes.”

“Not surprised I knew about him?” she doesn’t wait for you to answer. She sees the calm in your face. “I thought your nanny told you to not trust witches.”

“He’s different.”

“Love?” she scoffs. Insulting the feelings that you have growing for him. “You want to bind yourself to him? It’s true then, you’re untouched?”

“If all you’re here is to make fun of me, then…”

“Calm down your highness. I only seek information. I understand he has power from another. You know with witches the more they use the more it drains their body, making them old and frail.”

“He told me as much. But like I said, he’s different.”

“You bound yourself,” you realize, eyes wild looking at her, “A witch?”

“Where is he?”

“She is dying. Me, right along with her. You can live long, but sharing your immortality doesn’t make you immortal.”

“I’m sorry. Was it worth it?” you now know she has personal experience with your situation.

Ignoring her question, you move right to something else, “Your wings?”

“Can I see her?” Morgan shakes her head no. “Did her body age with the use of her powers?”

“Not giving that up, are you? Does he want to know? Or are you just hoping he keeps that handsome face? Would he still stay with you if you told him that he still ages?”

“I… uh…” you don’t know the answer. Chase did search you out. Things have moved rapidly. But to ignore the fire you feel when he touches you.

“Shouldn’t you be asking him these questions?” her fingers caress your cheek, and it stings, you push your body off her hands. “Your highness, his touch…it’s affecting you. You should leave.”

“What does that even mean.”

“Don’t come back here,” her hands go to push you out of the cabin.

“She stays,” you look up seeing a beautiful, but weak woman. “It’s you.”

Masterlist

#moon rituals #moon rituals au #chase collins #chase collins x reader #chase collins x fae!reader #chase collins fanfiction #the covenant #the covenant fanfiction #fanfiction #fae!reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan character x reader

54 notes · View notes

georgiapeach305132 · 3 years

Text

Moon Rituals

Summary: You meet Chase Collins for the first time

Pairings: Chase Collins X Fae!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings for this part, but as the story progresses so will the warnings, so be forewarned it will not stay mild. 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Doing this as a prequel to the Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty one shot. I felt this had potential to be more...so let’s see

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

“So, it is true.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“What are you?” he asks, his face holds a kindness, but his eyes they hold a darkness in them.

“A Moon Sprite. Last of my kind,” you know he probably doesn’t know what that is, nor would it matter.

“The Unseelie Court. How do you know so much about the fae, sir?” you dare to poke even more of your body out of the ring, your shoulders now exposed to the handsome stranger.

“I’m a witch.”

You roll your eyes at him, “They no longer exist, sir. They allowed their powers to die out. Too weak for the growing world. All because they wanted to be acclimated with humans.”

“I had to prove myself. You believe me?” you nod at him. “Are you not going to step outside the ring?”

“Not today, sir. Us fae don’t trust witches.”

“Because we possess real powers?” he asks with a crooked grin.

“Because you know our weaknesses. You live amongst humans, and you taught them our secrets.”

“I didn’t,” quickly his hand comes up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb.

“Please don’t sir,” your body lurches back after letting his soft warm hands touch your cold skin.

“You don’t have to call me sir, Moonbeam.”

“Then what is your name?” it’s occurred to you that you haven’t given him a name either.

“Chase Collins,” his head tilts towards you, wanting you to offer up your name.

“Goodbye, Chase Collins.”

“Yes, tomorrow. Twilight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase Collins.”

“Will I get to see you fully?” he gives you a boyish grin, biting on his lip.

“Perhaps,” Jenny Greenteeth exposes her sharp teeth, hissing at the stranger. “Come alone.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” he nods over to Jenny, looking and seeing more of the fae, walking closer to him.

“Enough you lot,” you command them. Because you are of royal blood they cease their movements.

“You have that power over them?”

“I’m of royal blood Chase Collins. They are my subjects.”

“Tomorrow,” he bids you farewell. Walking confidently through the forest. Eyeing each of the fae before he’s out of sight.

“Your Highness, you know not what he wants. Witches can’t be trusted,” Jenny warns you. Her body sliding further into the pond.

“What would you know? No one inside the ring knows about his visit. Are we understood?” another command to your subjects. They nod their head. “I’ll allow you to guard me tomorrow.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

“Maybe she’s changed her mind,” Jenny’s voice rings out. A sharp shrillness that most humans find detestable.

“She’ll show,” he assures her. Never exhibiting that he’s scared of her.

“Are you really not coming out?”

“I heard stories. Wanted to see if you existed. When I learned of an extremely old oak in the area, I had to investigate. Can I not come into the ring?”

“You could,” your head nods at him. “But you would be trapped. It would feel a mere few hours, until you stepped outside the ring. Seven years will pass.”

“My Qu... you shouldn’t speak our secrets. Humans can become our pets,” Jenny’s ever worried tone speaks at you. Nearly spilling your biggest secret.

“Chase Collins is not a human. He is a witch,” your eyes never leave his. The crystal blue nearly putting you in a spell before you quickly look away.

“I may be a witch, but you do hold power over me, since you know my name. You can just call me Chase though.”

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, “Is your name Chase Collins or not?”

“It is. Us humans typically only use first names.”

“Seems informal, Chase Collins,” his long fingers pet along your cheek again.

“You shouldn’t have said that, witch,” Jenny’s voice screams at him.

“Make them stop,” his voice quietly begs. His eyes darken to black.

Chases’ body walks closer to you. “My Queen,” he bows, holding his posture, before his head turns to look up at you.

“Please get up Chase Collins.” Chase grabs for your hand, gently kissing it, and you nearly melt at his touch. “I should go,” your voice shaky with the power that his lips left behind.

“Please, don’t. You only just go here.”

“No, don’t say that, Moonbeam. I... whatever I did I apologize,” his voice sincere. The wicked look he normally carries disappearing.

“Witches can’t be trusted, Chase Collins.”

“Tomorrow?” he begs, his voice nearly cracking. “Please.”

“I won’t be coming out of the Ring,” your body walks backwards to the ring, but your wrists are grabbed tightly by Chase’s hands. A small yelp exists your mouth, but none of your guards stir.

“Promise me. Or I take you with me.”

“Chase...”

“Promise me,” the darkness in his eyes is evident as you struggle to get away, nearly breaking free before the complete obsidian black coats his eyes.

“Fine. Tomorrow.”

“Outside of the ring,” his hands loosen their grip, but his onyx eyes get even darker.

“You won’t take me?” the movement of your body stops. You now have no desire to move back within the safety of your Ring.

“Not tomorrow.”

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

Masterlist

107 notes · View notes