#the dowlings are bad parents
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Hello 🙂
I've got a very specific request please. Do you know of any AUs where Crowley and/or Aziraphale (or one of the other characters, if it's a different ship) are what could be described as "rednecks" (apologies for the term) and/or the fic is set it rural America? I know of "Long Haul", but are there any others?
Thanks in advance!
Hi! I'm not familiar with the USA, so not exactly sure what counts as 'rural America'. Here are some fics set in the US and are very strongly rooted in their location...
Adorable (isn't so bad, when you get used to it) by JoyAndOtherStories (G)
A slice-of-life human AU set in the US Midwest. Aziraphale and Crowley are heading to the farm owned by their long-time friends Anathema and Newt to help them celebrate their newest addition (a new cow paddock). There are a few surprises in store, but all good ones, even for professionally-grumpy Crowley.
H.O.L.Y. (High On Loving You) by Most_Loved_Tragedy (E)
Aziraphale Fell is escaping his abusive partner Gabriel Strong. He has no friends and no family to turn to as his parents died 11 years ago, which led to his moving to the US from London. His last ten years have been ruled by Gabriel who kept him cut off from the rest of the world.
While on the run, he misses his bus and ends up in the middle of nowhere USA. A kind person talks their cousin Crowley into offering Aziraphale shelter in a spare home he has for rent.
Aziraphale learns that even if you've lost one family, you can always find another.
Town Meets Country by Angel_of_the_Dawn (M)
Former preacher Azira Fell moves to a small rural town to work as a librarian and meets Anthony Crowley, former drifter turned farmer. Crowley helps Azira come to terms with his past and face the future.
Under Construction by summerofspock (E)
Crowley has one goal: sell the run-down lodge in the Cascades that his uncle left him in his will.
He doesn't expect to meet someone like Aziraphale, the kind handyman working on his uncle's property who turns out to be more of an enigma than Crowley first thought.
The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)
Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection…
Old Vines by sevdrag (E)
A.Z. Fell, one of the most respected names in wine and food blogging, has been sent on assignment with his assistant Warlock Dowling to spend six months in California Wine Country. Under direction (by his boss, Gabriel) to use this experience to double his blog followers and write a novel, Aziraphale is both excited and anxious about the opportunity.
Anthony J. Crowley is the owner and viticulturalist of Ecdyses, a winery that unexpectedly fell into his lap eleven years ago when he hit rock bottom. He may be in debt, yeah, but he’s paying off his loans — and despite pressure from his lenders and their team of inspectors, Crowley has found a kind of contentment tending his little corner of terroir and producing extraordinary wine. Crowley’s old vines are the heart of his vineyard, and he’s never let anyone in.
Crowley finds Aziraphale intriguing; Aziraphale finds Crowley enthralling. Turns out a famous wine expert and an experienced viticulturalist can still learn things from each other. The summer of 2019 unfolds.
And the one you mentioned...
Long Haul by snae_b (E)
First time he sees him he’s barreling down 40 like a bat out of hell. Thirty miles outside of Flagstaff and six hours behind schedule. The desert looming large on all sides. Red sand and sage stretching out for miles and miles in front of him. Juniper and pine and gray crag behind him. The flora might be changing but that's about it. Same bone-dry air that gives him nosebleeds. Same cute little cottontails and scrawny jackrabbits darting under his tires. Same two lanes separated by white lines...
He checks his speedometer. He hasn't downshifted since the city limits. Sheer luck, that. He's coming up fast on another rig. Flatbed with Vermont plates. Bright white cab with gold wings painted on the side.
Anthony Crowley might have gotten out of Missouri, but he hasn't escaped his past. He wears it like a cloak. When he crosses paths with a guardian angel, he starts to learn how to shed it.
- Mod D
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Continuing on with book-Good Omens. Let me just start with two general observations.
Neil Gaiman, or possibly Terry Pratchett, or both, are just ridiculously funny. The humor shot throughout here is some of the cleverest things I’ve read in a long time. The parentheticals! Mister Dowling being so painfully British in a provincial way given the antichrist meant to be cosmopolitan and international, just.... all of it.
Those chapters are just so durned long. Any editor worth their salt would break this one into at least three or four, and boo on them, because I can’t imagine anything being quite so fun as the way the different sections weave together in such interesting ways. It just keeps going.
More substantively, let’s talk about Crowley again, and evil, and people being people. Because one of the aspects I’m finding most interesting in this opening chapter is how it’s not being good or evil that makes you good or bad. Or destructive. Or the characters I should root for or against at an intuitive moral level. I’m actually having a failure of language here, but speaking as a philosopher even so early it’s something that strikes me as a very interesting take on the concepts. True, and also real.
Take this description of one of the chattering nuns:
Sister Mary Loquacious has been a devout Satanist since birth. She went to Sabbat School as a child and won black stars for handwriting and liver. When she was told to join the Chattering Order she went obediently, having a natural talent in that direction and, in any case, knowing that she would be among friends. She would be quite bright, if she was ever put in a position to find out, but long ago found that being a scatterbrain, as she'd put it, gave you an easier journey through life. Currently she is being handed a golden-haired male baby we will call the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness.
And then later:
Most of the members of the convent were old-fashioned Satanists, like their parents and grandparents before them. They'd been brought up to it and weren't, when you got right down to it, particularly evil. Human beings mostly aren't. They just get carried away by new ideas, like dressing up in jackboots and shooting people, or dressing up in white sheets and lynching people, or dressing up in tie-dye jeans and playing guitars at people. Offer people a new creed with a costume and their hearts and minds will follow. Anyway, being brought up as a Satanist tended to take the edge off it. It was something you did on Saturday nights. And the rest of the time you simply got on with life as best you could, just like everyone else. Besides, Sister Mary was a nurse and nurses, whatever their creed, are primarily nurses, which had a lot to do with wearing your watch upside down, keeping calm in emergencies, and dying for a cup of tea. She hoped someone would come soon; she'd done the important bit, now she wanted her tea.
It may help to understand human affairs to be clear that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.
Usually when we talk about good and evil not being as starkly different, there’s an element of moral nihilism, or at least relativism, this feeling that that means everything is equally right or wrong. And again I’m struggling with language here because good/evil and right/wrong are usually thought to be, if not synonyms, at least strongly parallel concepts. So if you don’t have good and evil or they don’t function in the same way, then of course you affect right and wrong in much the same way. But this seems to be doing something quite different. Good and evil are more like warring tribes than moral distinctions, what we should root for and against. But there’s still something of morality shot through here. People may be people which means liking dressing up on a Saturday night apparently, and that may explain why they’re just as likely to dress up in white sheets or jackboots as tie-dye; but of course the result is nowhere near the same.
And Crowley gets that, probably better than anyone.
Crowley had always known that he would be around when the world ended, because he was immortal and wouldn't have any alternative. But he'd hoped it would be a long way off.
Because he rather liked people. It was a major failing in a demon.
Oh, he did his best to make their short lives miserable, because that was his job, but nothing he could think up was half as bad as the stuff they thought up themselves. They seemed to have a talent for it. It was built into the design, somehow. They were born into a world that was against them in a thousand little ways, and then devoted most of their energies to making it worse. Over the years Crowley had found it increasingly difficult to find anything demonic to do which showed up against the natural background of generalized nastiness. There had been times, over the past millennium, when he'd felt like sending a message back Below saying, Look, we may as well give up right now, we might as well shut down Dis and Pandemonium and everywhere and move up here, there's nothing we can do to them that they don't do themselves and they do things we've never even thought of, often involving electrodes. They've got what we lack. They've got imagination. And electricity, of course.
One of them had written it, hadn't he . . . "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here."
Crowley had got a commendation for the Spanish Inquisition. He had been in Spain then, mainly hanging around cantinas in the nicer parts, and hadn't even known about it until the commendation arrived. He'd gone to have a look, and had come back and got drunk for a week.
That Hieronymous Bosch. What a weirdo.
There’s an interpretation I read years ago, that Crowley’s brilliance as a demon comes down to project management, not hatred or bile or the like, and that that doesn’t make him less demonic. I like that and quite agree with it; it makes him much more modern, and much more influenced by humanity I think, than Hastur and Ligur; but it’s obviously not getting in the way of him doing a good job. What’s so interesting here is this isn’t a project that requires a lot of management at all.
Is it the deep affect of sin? The world is corrupted and broken etc.? That seems completely wrong for this book, and, for the record, my personal moral and theological intuitions. Or is it that there’s something about the demonic that’s integral to the Great Plan that it’s sort of hard-coded into humanity? The asking of questions, the breaking of things so change is even possible? Or, more uncomfortably, is this need to hurt somehow more natural than we’d like it to be? The flipside of the urge to protect, perhaps, paired with the much less admirable tendency to divide groups too large for us to really bond with into us and them, our side and people our side needs to be protected from?
Maybe. I don’t have hard answers here for myself, let alone for Neil and Terry. But what I do see is Crowley is sd about that. He’d torture and hurt because that was his job, but I think he also wanted humanity to be better than that. Which they are, some of them and some of th time, but when they aren’t: hoo boy. It hurts him. It hurts me. But damned if it isn’t also compelling. I’m definitely looking forward to how this distinction (or lack of same) develops.
.... And on that note, I just saw Aziraphale’s name mentioned for the first time since the Garden. This seems like a good place to stop and read other things so I can return refreshed, because as I said these chapters are long.
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Saul silva/Farah x reader - chaotic love
Thank you to @casserole-from-dads-asserole for helping me create this unhinged masterpiece!
A/N: italics will be a different language
Part one:
Standing against the wall, you grinned at the officer who rolled his eyes at you and shook his head a little bit.
“Jamie! My favourite nephew!”
You waited for his response and you grinned to yourself.
“I may have been arrested again yes. I need you to bail me.”
“Don’t you have money?”
“I have money you have my bank card remember? I sent you to school with it so you could use it.”
“Oh right yeah. Okay I’ll see if I can come bail you out again.”
“Thank you! I love you!”
You hung up and beamed at the officer.
“One of these days that kid will stop helping you.” He chuckled.
“He loves me to much I have unlimited money.”
The guard rolled his eyes and took you back to your cell where you had to wait for your bail date.
Jamie got up and padded down to his headmasters office and he knocked on the door and waited for the reply before walking in.
“Everything okay?” Saul asked.
“Yes sir, I need to go to the first world if that’s okay?”
Saul frowned and looked up from his laptop.
“What for?”
“My aunt needs me to bring her bank card so I can bail her. Again.”
“Again?”
Jamie nodded and grinned a little.
“Please? I love my aunt she’s basically my mom at this point sir. I really wanna help her out.”
“If this isn’t the first time maybe it’s time she learned her lesson? And why do you have her bank card?”
“She gave it to me so I could spend money on my travel to and from school. Also she’s not a bad person sir she’s actually harmless, just had a thing for trouble. You know I’m gonna go either way right?”
“Let me talk with Farah.”
Jamie nodded and left and both teachers agreed to go with him since they knew he was going to go either way.
The court date came and Jamie, Saul and Farah stood at the front of the court room.
“Hello Jamie.”
“Hi judge Riley!”
The man chuckled, leaning back in his chair a little as he looked at the two teachers.
“Parents?”
“No sir, they’re my teachers. They had to bring me.”
Riley nodded his head and the doors opened and you came padding through, placing the cuffs on the table with a happy grin.
“Told ya I could get out Sargent.”
“Okay I admit I didn’t believe it but they’re going back on now.”
The Sargent put the cuffs back on you and you waved at the judge who rolled his eyes at you.
“Right, I’m getting real tired of seeing you in my court room.”
“Ouch, I thought we were friends.”
“You’re a heathen, that’s what you are (Y/N), what did you do now?”
Saul and Farah looked at you, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. You arms were covered in tattoos, from the sleeve of the jumpsuit down to your wrists, one of them continued on to your hand. You had a wolf cut, but they could see piercings along your ears.
You turned to look at them, and they saw a tattoo spreading across your throat and you turned away again.
“I, May, have perhaps stolen a car. Or two.”
“And?”
“They both belonged to the Sarg here.”
Riley nodded his head.
“And then you did what with them?”
“I did donuts in one till the tires blew and then I dismantled the other one..”
You grinned a little and the man behind you smacked the back of your head and you pouted a little bit as you mumbled out an apology.
“Honestly you would’ve thought a woman in her thirties would learn to behave but apparently not. You’re nephew is here to pay your bail with you’re own money which is fair enough, I’ve also added the damage costs of those two cars.”
“Yeah that’s fair.” You shrugged.
You nephew nodded his head in agreement.
“Right, you attended the same school you’re nephew is at right now correct?”
“Yup.”
“Great, you’re going back there with him.”
“Excuse us can’t we have a say?”
Riley turned to the teacher.
“Names?”
“Farah Dowling.”
“Saul Silva.”
“Okay Farah, let’s hear your say.”
“We run a school, not only is this woman older than our students, we wouldn’t know what to do with her, and she poses a risk to my students.”
“She’s harmless she won’t hurt nobody. Trust me, I know. I’m just tired of seeing her in my courtroom, so, she’s going.”
While they argued about your fate, you looked at Jamie and grinned, and he grinned back at you and walked over.
You leant down.
“Wanna see a magic trick?”
“Absolutely.” He whispered back.
Nodding your head, you looked around and put your wrists against your stomach and crouched down.
You built up heat around your wrists and the cuffs loosened and you slipped them off, and you did the same to the ones around your feet.
Then you quietly set them on the floor and stood up, shuffling on your feet as you danced from side to side.
Jamie copied you, a grin on his face as you both danced to yourselves.
“Just dance bud, don’t let anyone bring you down!”
Jamie laughed, and that’s what caught the attention of everyone in the court.
“Hey! Stop dancing! How the hell did you get out the cuffs again!”
The Sargent walked over and you jumped up on the railing, still dancing as the Sargent held up the cuffs and Saul and Farah shared a look.
They now realised how you managed to slip your cuffs as they looked at the little black marks around the inside.
Jamie laughed and jumped up with you, dancing on the table with a wide grin on his face.
“I am begging you, please take her. She’s not a bad person, but if she makes one mistake she’s done for. She’s just a little too care free.” Riley sighed.
“Just dance!” Jamie yelled.
Saul and Farah whispered to one another before they turned around.
“We’ll take her, but we want a list of everything she’s done.”
“Absolutely I’ll have the Sargent bring it around to her place when we’ve gathered everything!”
The judge shouted your name and you stopped dancing.
“Get the hell outta here and go home.”
“Oh hell yeah!”
Jumped down, you grabbed Jamie by the hand and you ran to the front of the building and stopped just outside.
Walking over to a car you looked at the window and raised your elbow.
“Hey! Absolutely not!” Farah yelled.
You froze and looked at her, slowly lowered your elbow.
“We’re getting a lift back to yours.” Saul said.
You grumbled and followed them and the Sargent dropped you back off home.
You let them all inside and the two teachers looked around while Jamie ran off somewhere and you jumped over the couch, standing on it as you grabbed the TV remote.
“Right, you know the drill. Ankle.”
You held your leg out and the Sargent put the monitor on.
“Until you leave.”
You nodded and put on some music.
Saul and Farah didn’t understand a word of it, but you and Jamie apparently did because you were signing along.
“Right, we need to set some ground rules.” Farah said.
You stopped singing and looked at her, sitting on the back of your couch.
“Like what?”
She began to list a lot of things and you tuned her out, and nodded when she asked if you understood.
You had no clue what she said, but you went to start packing some things and soon enough you found yourself in Alfea with your nephew.
You were under strict supervision, being forced to take classes again on the responsibilities of your magic and you stared boredly out of the empty classroom window.
“Pay attention, do you understand what could have happened you using your magic like that?” Farah snapped.
Saul stood next to her, arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at you.
Looking at them, you waved your hand dismissively.
“Don’t you know how to live?” You smirked.
“Living isn’t committing a series of crimes, grand theft auto is the most common one, reckless driving, speeding, DUI, illegal street racing. Those are just a few.” Saul said.
You shrugged a little, standing up as you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your ripped jeans.
“Yeah yeah I got this drill years ago when I was here. They didn’t do very well at teaching me it then, I don’t know why you think you can.”
“Magic is dangerous.” Farah said.
You leant against the table as you let out a fake yawn.
“Magic is dangerous if you make it dangerous darling. I’m just having a little fun.”
You walked over to her desk and looked at the long list of criminal charges you had since you returned to the first world.
“Is that how you really want Jamie being raised?” Saul asked.
“Best life he’s gonna get compared to his deadbeat parents. Trust me. But he ain’t dumb, he’s not gonna follow in my footsteps.”
You turned to look at them and you smirked a little. Placing your hands on the back of your hand you looked between them both.
“Have a little fun.”
They furrowed their brows a little.
“You’re only bound to one life, enjoy it, break some rules.”
“We have no clue what you’re saying.” Farah said.
You smirked a little and walked over, patting your hand against her cheek and you ducked under Saul as he tried to grab your arm and you laughed loudly.
“I know! It’s great!”
You winked at them both as you backed away.
“See you two later.”
With that, you were gone and they both sighed at the same time, looking at one another.
“She doesn’t seem as bad as we thought?” Saul offered.
“I guess not, but it still doesn’t change the fact we need to teach her to respect the use of her magic.” Farah sighed.
Saul nodded his head because he knew she was right.
You jogged down the hallways, waving at a few students as you did.
They had grown used to seeing you around now.
Finding your nephew, you crouched next to him and his friend.
“Hey Sky. You two wanna go for a ride?”
“You don’t own a car.” Sky said.
You held up some car keys with a smirk.
“No, I don’t, but Saul does.”
“Oh yes this is why we love you!” Jamie cheered.
Sky shook his head saying he’d pass, and Jamie immediately agreed so you two jumped in the car and you quickly tore out of the school grounds.
“Yes! This is what this school needs!”
You carried on speeding, pushing the limits of the car.
“Drift it! Drift it!” Jamie chanted.
Jamie started to chant and you looked at the upcoming corner, and you got ready to drift the car.
When you knew you were in the right spot, you turned the wheel and pulled up and hand-break, and car screeched as it drove sideways.
The teenager cheered and you cheered with them.
You carried on drifting around corners, speeding down the roads going around again and again like your own personal race track.
Saul and Farah walked down the hallways and he was stopped by Sky.
“Can I borrow your car?”
“Sure, what for?”
Saul reached into his pockets and he frowned when he couldn’t find your keys.
“I don’t need it, but you probably do it find it.” He said.
Saul thought back to when he last hand them.
Before you ducked under him.
“Oh son of a bitch.” He whispered.
“What?”
“She’s stolen my car Farah!”
“Oh Jesus.”
Both teachers all but ran to the parking lot, and just as they got there his car was being pulled back into the space it was in and you and Jamie stumbled out feeling dizzy.
You grinned as you slammed the door shut.
“Oi!”
Saul stormed over and held out his hand to you and you handed the key back.
“I think it’s outta gas..” you whispered.
You looked at him and fell a few steps to the side and he grabbed your arm to stop you from falling.
“What did you do?” Farah snapped.
“So many circles..” Jamie whispered.
She said, helping him stand still and you both snickered as you looked at one another.
“Right Jamie detention. (Y/N) yours cleaning all this mud of my car.” Saul snapped.
You shrugged a little and removed his hand from your arm as you could drop on the floor and let the world stop spinning.
Looking up at him and Farah, you grinned at them both and they both rolled their eyes at you
#fate the winx saga imagine#fate the winx saga x you#fate the winx saga x reader#fate the winx saga#saul silva#saul silva x reader#saul silva x you#saul silva imagine#farah dowling x reader#farah dowling x you#farah dowling#farah dowling imagine
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✨masterpost of my works✨
posted to my ao3
[this post is subject to editing in the future]
Since I intend on using Tumblr a bit more now, and because I like neat lists, I thought it'd be prudent do make a little list of what I have out on ao3 right now!
My name's Looth, and I am ENTIRELY at the whims of my hyperfixations. I'm on twitter and pillowfort by the same handles, but I rarely use the latter.
fandoms: Stranger Things, Our Flag Means Death, The Witcher (Netflix) and Good Omens
[list under the cut!]
fanfiction
Good Omens:
A Nanny? In MY Summoning Circle?
A twoshot wherein Warlock Dowling meets his Nanny again, via the very normal uni student past time of trying to summon a demon with a book you found in a dodgy bookshop. Very fluffy, genderqueer Warlock.
[Complete] 2/2, 10.5k
The Witcher (Netflix):
The Viscount
[geraskefer endgame]
A 5+1 that works on the premise that "I'm from Lettenhove" is a sort of codeword in the royal class for children that have fallen out of grace with their court/family? And the higher your rank in Lettenhove, the worse the thing you have done is? Lots of Jaskier shenanigans, aggressive found family and genderfluid Jaskier.
Based on a post by @artistsfuneral.
[WIP] 3/?, 1.3k
build me up, buttercup [rated M]
[geraskefer endgame]
A longfic I've been chipping away at since 2020, dear God. Features Jaskier and Yen being fake married and co-parenting Ciri, Geralt getting adopted, the found family inherent to bards and the city of Oxenfurt, ftm Jaskier and Ciri having a well-deserved identity crisis. Also, ocs galore, gratuitous academia, and also Valdo Marx is immortal and Jaskier's annoying best friend.
Geraskefer endgame. My baby, who I will return to as soon as I am able.
[WIP] 15/?, 64k
Our Flag Means Death:
the inertia series [rated E]
a three-part series following Israel Hands as he attempts to move on from the things keeping him trapped in amber, unable to grow.
[steddyhands endgame]
[Complete] 62.9k
1. love like a dog on a leash
Izzy Hands encounters an old friend in the form of Sam Bellamy, Ed starts a barfight, and Stede learns some backstory.
All of these men are haunted in some way.
1/1, 5.5k
2. open season
Izzy Hands finds himself inexplicably being courted by various pirates to be their first mate. No one has addressed that fact that he isn't looking for a new Captain; he already has two. Steddyhands endgame, features some Jackhands.
A long look at the dynamics between Ed and Izzy, and now Stede, and the older dynamics of Ed, Izzy, Calico Jack Rackham and Sam Bellamy. Actually, it's a look at Izzy himself, and his various traumas and the way he's transitioning from being in a Black Sails type dark genre to this weird muppet land everyone else on this ship seems to live in.
7/7, 44.5k
3. red sky at morning
An epilogue, wherein the boys all contend with the future on the horizon; the good and the bad of it.
1/1, 11.9k
stranger things
[my current hyperfixation send help]
Eddie Munson and the Dreamboy
[steddie]
Wherein Eddie and El traverse the inside of Steve's mind, and encounter various Steves at different points in his life trying to find where he's hidden himself to escape Vecna's final curse.
A 5+1, featuring Steve's Scoops Ahoy flirting, a little baby Steve, and El's hair.
[Complete] 1/1, 8k.
Dustin Henderson and the Lovebirds
[steddie]
Five times Dustin Henderson was subjected to Eddie Munson being gross and sappy and in love with Steve Harrington, and one time Steve didn't even have to be there.
Features Steve being serenaded, Eddie Munson's Roger Rabbit Impression, Steve's Tiny Gym Shorts, and a good old fashioned worm conversation. Also, gay dnd.
[Complete] 1/1, 9.7k
always burning, world keeps turning
a two-part series set in a soft post-apocalyptic Hawkins, where community and family keep everyone going. And Steve and Eddie kiss about it.
[steddie]
[WIP]
1. took you for a working boy
In a post-apocalypse, mildly nightvale-flavoured Hawkins, Steve and Eddie are the only ones who aren't aware they're dating. Steve does not have a gender crisis but does have a lot of difficulty finding the words for it all, Eddie is oblivious but earnest (and running a radio show, Dr. Death Defying or Cecil Palmer style), Steve and Robin are ACTUALLY soulmates, and everyone's doing their best.
I cannot stress how much everyone thinks they're already dating. Featuring genderqueer Steve, disaster gay Eddie, scheming younger teens, and lots of stobin fluff.
[complete] 6/6, 43.8k
2. hometown blues
The sequel to working boy, wherein Gareth, Vickie and Steve's mom encounter how fucking weird Hawkins has got in their absence, and take it with varying degrees of grace.
[WIP] 3/? 17k
off-script
Wherein Steve Harrington has his sexuality all figured out, Eddie's in comically heavy denial, and everything rapidly snowballs from there.
[steddie]
1. off the beaten path
Wherein Steve figures out he's bi before Eddie figures out he's gay, but Eddie STILL manages to fall first.
Features Steve talking himself though discovering his sexuality in approximately five minutes while on the phone with a baffled Jonathan, and him aggressively flirting with the local metalhead. He's also very good at being an unreliable narrator.
It ALSO features said local metalhead (who thinks himself straight) accidentally flagging, calling Steve Harrington princess in a totally straight way, and doing the ttrpg equivalent of doodling your crush's name on a notebook over and over. Also, somehow he's convinced himself he just hates Steve.
This won't end badly for anyone, I'm sure.
[Complete] 6/6, 34.2k
2. no boys allowed
Robin Buckley has her very first Girls' Day. She gets her hair braided, consoles her heartbroken best friend, and everyone muddies the water a bit on the exact definition of what a Girl is.
Steve Harrington has a good cry about Eddie Munson.
[Complete] 1/1, 7.5k
3. here be dragons
Eddie Munson has kissed a boy, and now he has to handle the fallout. He's got to grapple with the fact that he likes boys, likes a boy, and the harrowing fact that he may have inadvertently broken said boy's heart.
Or, a rapidly snowballing fic that's become a series of character studies by accident. Features Mike Wheeler kicking Eddie's ass into gear, ruminations on being a fashion-assigned dom, Steve Harrington's Various Abandonment Issues, and a surprise Tommy Hagan.
[WIP] 6/?, 38.9k
original works:
court of law
A mildly unhinged second person pov piece about a person going to college and finding that he's trapped in a bizarre dreamscape with no memories. And a new body. He accidentally steals a cute boy's name.
Lots of shenanigans, lots of gender and bad jokes.
[WIP] 6/?, 13k
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Fate Season 1 Appreciation Week, Day 7, Aug 13th- Free Choice
Author’s Note: An AU that’s been started and probably won’t be finished. After s1, Farah goes missing, and she pops up in the unlikeliest of places, Gardenia, CA, where Saul and Sky happen to be visiting Bloom and her parents. The only issue: she doesn’t remember any of them, not even Saul. How did she get there? Where’s Rosalind? Your guess is as good as mine.
Characters: Saul Silva, Sky, Bloom Peters, Vanessa Peters, Farah Dowling (mentioned)
Relationships: Skloom, implied Silrah
Warnings: Mentions of bullying, mild language
“It’s been a long time since you came here with me,” Vanessa shakes out her yoga mat, spreading it flat on the worn wooden floors. Bloom follows her lead, stamping on the far left corner even as it curls disobediently from the years it’d spent rolled up in her closet.
“I thought it was time for a change, you know? I used to like coming here,” she offers her mother a tentative smile, a silent reminder of the fragile bond they’re both trying to foster.
Things haven’t been easy in recent years, a toxic cocktail of teenage angst, anger, and confusion that had Bloom pulling away and erecting barriers faster than her parents could tear them down, furious for reasons she couldn’t explain when they kept reaching out to her despite her repeated efforts to slap their hands away. It isn’t their fault she’s different, strange, weird, or that her classmates whispered about her and shared conspiratorial looks in the halls when she passed. Sometimes those looks were meant only to hurt, disdain and contempt tossed her way as casually as a greeting; other times they were a warning of bad things to come, like a locker covered in graffiti or a soft drink to the face like some cheesy high school drama. Little examples of bullying that could never be proven to be bullying because for all that Bloom knew their intentions to be malicious, she couldn’t actually prove it.
It isn’t her parents’ fault she’s adopted either, in general because they hadn’t known themselves, but specifically because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything, doesn’t stop them from loving her, or she them, and it has actually made things better, rather than worse. Finally Bloom has an outlet for her frustrations, finally she has some semblance of answers for that little voice in her head that’s always whispered that she doesn’t belong. It’s right: she doesn’t belong, and that’s okay, because she’s finally found a place she does.
But it isn’t an excuse to neglect her parents or her home, the only world she’s ever known. In a month’s time she’ll get to visit her friends in their worlds, but until then she’ll be home, and rather than feel stuck, Bloom is determined to make the most of it, to make up for lost time, and begin making amends. She’s lucky, she knows, to have the parents she does, who care for her and love her and try their best. But what she’d said to Miss Dowling hadn’t only applied to her time at Alfea: she had been a brat, and not a single person she’d behaved that way towards had deserved it. To her parents, it had cost them their daughter and their patience; for her classmates and teachers, it had almost cost them their lives. Joining her mother for yoga hardly fixes anything, but it’s a start.
“So,” Vanessa stretches her hands high above her head and Bloom is quick to mimic her, muscles protesting because she has definitely not been following Mr. Silva’s instructions to “stay limber and fit” over the summer months. “Are you excited for Sky to visit?”
Bloom ignores the teasing lilt to her mother’s tone; reaching for her toes is worse, and Bloom grunts at the stretch of her back, almost falling over when she tries to replicate her mother’s tree pose.
“Um, yeah, I mean, it’ll be really nice to see him, and I’m so grateful you and dad are letting him stay at all like, seriously grateful.”
“Well his father is coming too, isn’t he? Mr. Silva?”
“Yeah,” Bloom had been staunchly trying to forget that fact, because the only thing worse than admitting to her fitness negligence once school began again is having him witness it first hand for the week they’ll be visiting the first world. But it’s the only way her parents -and Silva- will agree to Sky visiting at all. A small price, but still a price.
“That’ll be fun,” Vanessa remarks blandly, and Bloom does lose her balance this time, huffing a laugh as she falls on her butt.
“It will not! Mr. Silva’s going to hover over our shoulders the entire time and fret and worry and-”
“He’s a dad,” Vanessa interjects, “It’s kind of our job as parents to fret over our kids.”
“He’s not a dad,” Bloom grumbles, only partially because she feels like disagreeing, but also keeping in mind what Sky had told her. Vanessa glances sideways at her daughter, sensing there’s more to that simple admission than Bloom is sharing, but opts not to press. It likely isn’t Bloom’s secret to share, nor her feelings to emote; Bloom, meanwhile, toys with letting her mother in on this little bit of personal information Sky had shared. Surely it can’t hurt, right?
“Sky sometimes feels like… like Mr. Silva is only looking after him because he feels like he has to. Because he and his dad were friends, so it’s an obligation. And sometimes Mr. Silva gets so caught up in trying to do what he thinks is right that he forgets to just…”
“Be a dad?” Vanessa finishes quietly. Bloom stretches her legs out to the side as far as she can, thankful for the opportunity to stay sitting for these stretches. She nods.
“I know he loves Sky, and Sky loves him too but they’re just so awful at showing it. Or even saying it.”
“Well, honey, some people aren’t good at expressing themselves. And if you want to know a secret, men are the worst at it, that’s just a fact. I know we’re not exactly winning any family of the year awards but maybe we could help? Remember this is meant to be a vacation for Mr. Silva too, after what happened last year.”
“Yeah,” Bloom breathes a sigh, lying flat on her back to stretch one leg straight in the air. It’s funny to think about the teachers needing a break the same as the students but, well, Mr. Silva had almost died their first month of school, and even though they’d taken care of Rosalind and her followers, there's still no sign of Miss Dowling, and it’s taking a toll on morale, and their remaining headmaster. If anyone needs a break, it’s him.
“Yeah,” she repeats, “I guess you’re right.”
She drops her leg, turning her head to face her mother, who’s done the same. Mother and daughter share a grin. An enthusiastic clapping ends the moment, and Bloom tilts her chin to stare down her torso at the legging-clad woman at the front of the room.
“Alright everyone! Who’s ready to do some yoga?”
“It hasn’t started?” Bloom groans, and Vanessa elbows her with another grin, both getting to their feet for the start of the actual class.
~
“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea,” Silva admits, watching Sky toss clothing haphazardly into a bag that’s far too big for the scant week they plan to spend in the first world. A scoff pushes its way passed his lips when Sky holds up two identical jumpers, a sniff test determining which will be joining him.
“You’re not rescinding permission are you?” Big blue eyes widen pleadingly, and Silva shakes his head in fond exasperation.
“I am not, but I just wonder if it’s really such a good idea, making a trip to the first world after everything.”
“That’s exactly why it’s a good idea!” Sky argues, rummaging in his drawers for socks. Silva eyes the overflowing laundry hamper to his left; had he not taught to boy to keep a clean room, or is this some bad habit Sky had picked up from Riven in the dorms?
“It’s been a rough year,” Sky continues, shoving far too few socks into the duffel. “We deserve this little trip away. We always go camping over the summer, how’s this any different?”
“It’s not camping,” Silva points out the obvious, and Sky rolls his eyes.
“You really want to be in the woods for a week after all that’s gone on?”
“You can’t run from what scares you, that’s letting the fear win,” Silva challenges, and Sky heaves a sigh, tugging uselessly against the zipper refusing to seal away his shoddy packing job.
“Are you going to be like this the whole time? Because I’d ask you not to come, or remind you you don’t need to, only Bloom’s parents would feel more comfortable with you there and I know you’d feel more comfortable being there too.”
“Like I’m going to let the two of you galavant around the human world knowing those monsters might still be out there -not likely. And I hope I did talk to Bloom’s parents, and I’ve not been conned by two of her human friends on the phone trying to sneak her boyfriend in the back window.”
Sky removes a handful of wrinkled t-shirts in an attempt to fix the bag situation.
“She hasn’t got any human friends,” he replies absently, and Silva perks up from where he’d been leaning lazily against the door. The nonchalance with which his adoptive-son speaks such a confession into existence is akin to one commenting on the weather, like it doesn’t speak of potentially significant insight into the life of the changeling girl.
“What?”
“Yeah, she said she’s never really got on with any of her classmates before,” Sky removes a jacket too. “That she didn’t really hang out with anyone in particular.”
Silva files that information away to analyze at another time, not wanting to ask any leading questions that will have Sky accusing him of snooping on Bloom again, or using their fledgling relationship for his own gain. The bond they’d reforged is still fragile, and Silva is loathe to do anything that could break it, or strain it in any way. There’s far more they haven’t talked about that they need to, but it’s never the right time. The irony of his earlier insistence about not letting fear control one’s life is not lost on him. He’s terrified of losing Sky, and he hadn’t used to think he could be scared of losing Sky to anything other than death. But the thought of the boy turning his back on him, walking away, fills him with the same deep-seated fear and trepidation as losing Farah or Ben does, the same deep-seated fear and trepidation he’s spent every waking moment trying not to drown in the longer they go without word of Farah’s whereabouts. So rather than address those topics that had driven them apart in the first place in the interest of healing from them, learning from them, and moving on, he’s letting them fester and boil, sticking at a place in his chest and causing a pain almost tangible enough to have him rub at his breastbone.
“Is that really how you’re going to pack that? Have I taught you nothing?”
“You taught me to pitch a tent and dislocate someone’s knee cap, not fold shirts.”
“Don’t get smart with me, I know Ben taught you how to do laundry properly because he’s the one who taught Farah and I.”
Sky’s grin is just shy of shit-eating, and Silva lobs a shoe at him, rummaging through the bag and pulling out handfuls of clothes.
“You’re not gonna need half of this. It’s a vacation, remember? Bring two uniforms, but for God’s sake pack like you’re a normal teenage boy. T-shirts with bands you’ve never heard of and cargo shorts. But you’d better pack one of those nice button downs and slacks we got you. Last thing I need is Bloom’s parents thinking I raised a barbarian.”
“Didn’t you?” Sky quips, and Silva can’t resist wrapping him in a headlock that knocks most of the clothes back on the floor. Sky fights back only half-heartedly, weakened by laughter, and is quick to try and fix his mussed hair when Silva lets go.
“Empty that out and go get the suitcase from the hall closet. We’ll fold your clothes properly or Ben’ll have our heads.”
“Yes sir,” Sky mock-salutes and Silva watches him go with a fond smile quirking his lips, absently smoothing a t-shirt that definitely shouldn’t have been packed, whatever bag it ended up in, because that is definitely a ketchup stain. He huffs a breath and straightens, sorting out the clean clothes from the dirty, mentally tallying his own clothes’ count to start a load of laundry, trying not to think about how much he wishes it had been a teasing “dad” tossed his way, instead of “sir,” knowing he has no right to expect it, ask for it, or want it. But he can wish for it all the same.
Author’s note pt2: I was partially inspired to write this because of a throwaway comment Eve Best’s character makes in Stan Lee’s Lucky Man: “There’s no such thing as magic.” Which is funny, because she later goes on to play the headmistress of a magic school. And it got me thinking about an amnesiac Farah saying the same thing to Saul, and the chaos that would result from that, and the potential Silrah angst of trying to get her to remember not only Alfea and magic, but he and everything they mean to each other. On some level, would Saul be willing to let her go because if she doesn’t remember she’s technically happy? But then of course that’s not what Farah would want. Farah, meanwhile, would be utterly confused why this man claims to know her, and why she feels so drawn to him and everything he says even when it sounds preposterous (because they’re bond is more powerful than whatever magical fuckery is going on, again, I have no idea how this happened or how to fix it). My ideas are all over the place which is why this’ll never get finished.
#winxsource#ftwsweek1#farah dowling#eve best#rob james collier#saul silva#fate the winx saga#fate winx saga#fate: the winx saga#ftws#bloom peters#winx sky#vanessa peters#eva birthistle#silrah#farah dowling x saul silva#farah x saul#long post#fate fanfic
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I am in the works of editing and rewriting my General Dowling FanFic. I will be taking one shot requests for
Farah Dowling x Reader
Farah Dowling x all female characters in the Winx club aside from Aisha and Rosalind.
I will not write Smut as I’m not good at writing smut.
I will do mother/ daughter imagines
Sister/ sister imagines
Aunt/ niece images
Absolutely no hate for my writing.
I will add characters later.
Please keep in mind I am a collage Theatre major. I did bad first semester and will be focused on school work for the rest of semester. I will write a Little at a time and try to post them as fast and I can. I really do not want to be suspended for poor grades. School and work will come first before this little tumblr blog.
Little about the author;
My name is Rhiannon but I go by Rhia. I’m twenty years old and in college. I’m lesbian disowned by my family. Mostly my parents. I am really sweet but please don’t talk crap about me !
I’m going to try and do links in my bio like some of you fancy, fanfiction writers do. Idk how I’m going to do them but I’ll figure it out!
Also I do have ADHD so it might show in my work like it did here ^^^ 😇
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A few things about the Celestial Harmonies National Park au that I dunno if I’ll ever get to really talk about in the fic (but who knows, I don’t have everything planned, I’m still up in the air on some of the characters and who/what they are):
-The logo of the park is a green mountain with a blue sky, two golden rings coming out behind the mountain, and the innermost circle is colored in as brown. It’s meant to look like an eye because eyes are a very common thing in this au (because the creator is both a big fan of, and horrified by, all-seeing eyes watching constantly)
-Aziraphale was originally assigned to the eastern side of the park, but now that he’s the only angel on guard duty, he tries to keep watch over the whole park. This is not possible bad things still happen, and he is miserable about it.
-The other three angles left at the land became a park because it was under a different type of protection, why should they still work there, ya know? Aziraphale remained because he felt it was the right thing to do, especially after what happened in the Original Eden.
-His flaming sword is either sitting on the forest floor, abandoned, or accidently at the bottom of a lake, I haven’t decided
-The park is alive. Literally alive. And it has a mind of its own that Aziraphale doesn’t have full influence over. Sometimes people go missing because the park is hungry (but then again, I just suspect that’s the case with all national and state parks)
-The park is somewhere in the Rockies because that’s the mountain range I’m most familiar with. I dunno what state, I wanna say Montana cause that’s my home state, but...
-Aziraphale loves and hates his job at the park
-He chose to look like a mountain man there to blend in with the locals. Everyone just accepts it, as long as he doesn’t strut around looking like a cowboy, who cares
-He looks like regular Aziraphale when in London, it throws Crowley off, but he’s still attracted since it’s Aziraphale
-Crowley has his southern belle accent normally, but he is able to just... turn it off if he wants to. He can do a Scottish one, and a weird, bland American accent that he does when people can’t seem to understand what the hell he’s saying. He only picked up the accent from living in Louisiana for years with his mother, he’s actually from Washington DC (cause he was originally a Dowling). Which is all hilarious because his mother was Scottish but he picked up on the local accent more so.
-Aziraphale had eye ‘tattoos’ on his body, I have no idea how I’m gonna get Crowley to see them
-Crowley has a snake tattoo still, but it’s not on his face, it’s on his leg. Aziraphale really likes it, thinks it’s fitting
-There is a strange tree in the park that’s hard to find, protected by two birds. Lost children can find it and Aziraphale will take them back to their parents from there. The tree bears apples, but you shouldn’t eat them.
-Gabriel and Aziraphale have a history that no one seems to understand or know, they’re all just aware that these two can’t stand one another and are extremely passive aggressive
-Aziraphale fell in love at first sight, Crowley needs time to come to terms that he’s got a crush
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As You Wish, Angel
As You Wish, Angel
by A_Cypress_Coffin
What if Warlock was illegally adopted by the genderbent version of our favorite pair of celestial and demonic beings? And what if he read them a bedtime story once the apocalypse-that-never-was was over where they were took the place of the main characters. It's only fitting that two of the greatest love stories of all time should mesh so well.
Words: 5922, Chapters: 1/9, Language: English
Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV), The Princess Bride - William Goldman
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/F, F/M
Characters: Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Additional Tags: She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), Mutual Pining, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Protective Crowley, Aziraphale and Crowley are Warlock Dowling's Parents, Warlock Dowling is a Little Shit, Accidental Baby Acquisition, The Dowlings' Bad Parenting (Good Omens), Story within a Story, No beta we fall like Crowley
From https://ift.tt/5esFxGH
https://archiveofourown.org/works/39812970
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In regards to Warlock Dowling,
I feel so bad for him. For starters both of his parents are emotionally neglectful.
His father is always darting around the world, in meetings, and didn’t even spare time for his birth. Let alone, any other milestones in his life pressumably.
His mother doesn’t really care about anything he does, even his name “Warlock” is kind of just a way to get back at her husband. She seems to care more about keeping up appearances and in the one or two scenes their together it’s obvious they aren’t close.
The only time we see them together is during a publicity stunt where Warlock is actually well behaved compared to the failed dinosaur outing.
At his birthday party we don’t see him with a close knit group of friends like Adam.
And to make matters worse he’ll never know his real parents/the more normal childhood he could’ve had.
Crowley and Aziraphale basically acted as his parental figures, and they were also contradicting each other. At least in the show they didn’t raise him since he was a baby but raising a child since they were 6 to 11 certainly leaves a mark on their life.
Then he gets abandoned by the both of them for the 3-5 years in between season 1 & 2 and most likely the foreseeable future . No explanation seen, no nothing. That’s so sad 😭. 6 years is nothing to an Angel and Demon, both of them were ready to kill him with a little hesitation on Aziraphale’s side.
Little Warlocj despite everything is a relatively normal child, though a bit bratty and spoiled. But with his upbringing, this makes complete sense.
anyways this is the end of my rant.
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fc oc meme: serena motola + good omens — @xoteajays
I had… many ideas for this one.
A young demon named Zazzadon who gets sent to Earth in the 40’s (shortly after the church encounter) to be trained by Crowley, and also to keep an eye on him since Hell was starting to realize how much he liked humans at that point.
She and Crowley have something of a father-daughter dynamic, although it’s more similar to Ellie and Joel from The Last of Us than anything else (in that Zazzadon is a sarcastic little shit who can’t seem to stay out of trouble and Crowley is an equally sassy parental figure who is constantly trying to keep her out of it).
First meets Aziraphale in the 60’s when he gives Crowley the holy water and they have their encounter in the Bentley; Zira is very surprised that Crowley has actually been taking care of another being for this long, but also likes Zazzie right off the bat, and vice versa.
Of course, Zazzie immediately clocks their crushes on each other, and she and Crowley have a sassy exchange in the Bentley about it once Aziraphale leaves and she’s just like, “You wanna kiss him so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Goes right along with Crowley and Aziraphale’s plan to raise the Antichrist with equal influence; disguises herself as a new maid in the Dowlings’ mansion at the angel and demon’s request to make sure neither of them are pushing too far in their influencing.
She and Aziraphale develop a genuine friendship over the years of raising Warlock, bonding over their love of food and fascination with different aspects of human culture (though he refuses to really acknowledge it as friendship the same way he denies his feelings for Crowley).
However, after the “breakup” scene at the bandstand, she tells him off for trusting Heaven so much and refusing to admit how much he cares about her and Crowley, and marches off with her demonic mentor while giving the angel the finger and not looking back.
After the Apocalypse is averted and the Ineffable Husbands make their plan to avoid execution, they send Zazzie to hide with Anathema and Newt in Jasmine Cottage, since Anathema has wards on the house that can protect it against any more demons entering. (She’s not too happy about this plan, but not having anyone to switch bodies with, she goes along with it.)
No canon ship, but at the end of the finale when the Husbands switch back and go to the Ritz, she declines to go with them, citing a date with a human girl she’s been talking to online.
She also threatens Crowley to finally tell Aziraphale how he feels before they leave to go to dinner, and does a little happy dance when she comes back to the bookshop after her date to find them kissing on the sofa.
(I’m also gonna tag @endless-oc-creations in this, just because she’s my Good Omens girl and I feel like she’d like this.)
send me an fc + fandom for me to make an oc on the spot!!
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Hi! I was wondering if you know any fics where in the focus is Azi, Crow, Adam and Warlock? Like a sort of found family fic between the 4 of them. It can be angsty or not. I just wanna know cuz Warlock is like EXTREMELY underrated and I feel bad for the poor child. XD Anyway, thank you!
Hello! You’ll want to check out our #kid fic tag for loads of Adam and Warlock content. And we also have a #warlock dowling tag! I’ve pulled together some of the fics from our tags with the four characters and a found family theme...
A Journey Into The Unknown (Which Shall Lead Us Ever Closer To Home) by BlackUnicorn (NR)
Anthony J. ‘just call me Crowley’ Crowley is…content – his little queer café in the heart of Soho, his son, his best friend, his snake.
Aziraphale is…existing – day in, day out, in the same job, with the same people, and the same half-forgotten dreams. Going through the motions.
Never would their paths have crossed if not for a boy, a teenager, really, running away to the city in search of something better.
That’s how it starts, anyway…
My Dearest Warlock by Sassyandsarcastic15 (T)
Biological family doesn't always mean everything. Biological family can hurt you, break you, mock you, or leave you. Blood doesn't always mean everything. True family isn't defined by blood, but rather by true love that can never be taken or forsaken.
Warlock Dowling was more than happy to receive the news that Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis are willing to take him and raise him as their own. Although, he did receive a rather large shock upon learning the identity of his former nanny and gardener. But that doesn't really matter, all that matters is that Warlock has the family he always wanted.
With adventures that only God could have though up and romances that have been boiling for centuries, the small little town of Tadfield is in for an awakening that no one expected. And sometimes, the unplanned things are the best.
Chaos Theory by the_moonmoth (T) (series)
If an Antichrist flaps its wings in Tadfield, what does that mean for Warlock Dowling?
Adam put the world back together during the Apocalypse like a great big jigsaw puzzle, but something about Warlock never fit right. Eight years later, Adam thinks he's finally figured out how to fix it, but he should've known that humans are far too complex for simple solutions.
Going Overboard by Fyre (T)
When you do a job, you expect to get paid. What you don't expect is for things to go overboard.
Ineffable Overboard AU
It never hurts to keep looking for sunshine by elf_on_the_shelf (E)
After Adam's parents die in a car crash, Aziraphale is forced to start taking care of him as more than just an uncle. Don't get him wrong, he loves the little devil, it's just that he is completely clueless and could rather use some help.
In comes Crowley, Adam's new nursery school teacher with his amazing skills in dealing with kids. Could he be the answer to all of Aziraphale's prayers - Adam-related and otherwise?
Well, it looks like he might be just that, judging by the weird things Aziraphale's heart seems to be doing whenever he sets eyes on the man. Now, if only the tall ginger returned his feelings...
It Was Always You by mltrefry (T)
A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place.
Anthony Crowley and his son, Warlock, relocate to the quieter city of Tadfield from that of London. In the process, manages to find again that one person who always made him feel less alone, the one person he was pretty sure he was never going to speak to again.
But the road to true love never did run smooth (something that’s been true from their very beginning). Despite the easy way they fall back into each other, their lives don't seem to follow suit, and if it's not one challenge its another. But despite everything they find themselves facing down, the ten years without each other taught them one thing: they’re better together than they are apart.
- Mod D
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Fics: *portray the Dowlings as bad parents*
Me: >:0
#this is about both of them but moreso harriet. we have no proof they were bad parents! as one person has pointed out if Thaddeus being#an absent husband was frequent harriet would have been used to it by the time he missed warlock's birth. and warlock is probably an#exhausting child lbr i dont blame her for seeming tired during their walk in the dinosaur garden#harriet dowling#Thaddeus dowling#warlock dowling#good omens#i'm saying stuff
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The Prince and The Fairy Chapter 9
Pairing: Sky X Male Reader
A/N: This chapter is a bit longer than usual. Thanks for waiting so patiently. Bloom also joins the cast now.
Y/N and Sky had Silva leaning on them for support as they hobbled back to Alfea. Y/N wasn't so sure what a gash from a Burned One would do, but from the way Silva was breathing heavily, it couldn't be good. Their friends were right behind them as they made it inside the courtyard. Students were staring at them in shock, seeing the Headmaster of the Specialists, injured.
“I'll get a medkit from the Bastion!” Terra says.
“And I'll get Dad,” Sam says, as Musa follows him.
“I'll get the Headmistress,” Beatrix said. She ran in the direction of Ms. Dowling’s office.
They get Silva to the greenhouse and Mr. Harvey, Sam, and Terra’s dad gets to work on treating Silva's wounds. Sky was a nervous wreck, walking back and forth in anticipation.
“How bad is it? Sky asked tensely. “Can you help him?”
“Sky, I’ll be fine. Just let Professor Harvey do his work,” Silva said weakly. Silva groans as Ms. Dowling enters the greenhouse. “I should have moved it right away. You should have had more soldiers,” she said.
“Guys, could we have the room, please?” Silva asks, looking at Y/N, Sky, Sam, and Terra. “We’ll keep you informed. Go on.” Everyone nods their head, but Sky is still reluctant to leave Silva. Y/N grabs Sky’s hand and gently leads the young prince out of the greenhouse. When they're sure that they are alone, Ben Harvey looks at Silva and says. “It’s just us Saul.”
“The Burned One was loose before we got there. I saw someone… in the road.”
“Someone let it loose on purpose?” Ms. Dowling asked, shocked. The Headmistress looks at Ben and frowns. This isn’t good.
“He’s gonna be ok right, Y/N?” Sky asked. They were laying on Sky’s bed. He was shirtless and in sweats and Y/N was dressed in pajamas. Sky’s arms wrapped around Y/N. Y/N could hear Sky’s heart beating against his chest. “Of course, he'll be alright. I know that I only just met him, but he seems like a tough guy,” Y/N says. “But what if he doesn't get better? What if he dies? I can't lose another father, Y/N. I just can't,” Sky said.
“Shhh. It's okay, Blue Eyes. Let it out,” Y/N said, as Sky buried his head in the crook of Y/N’s neck, as his body began to shake as he cried softly. Y/N rubbed his hands up and down Sky’s back in comfort, as his eyes turned white and a vision made its way into his mind.
In the vision, Y/N could see a young woman in her early twenties. She had long, pale blonde hair tied into a ponytail, with kind amber eyes. She wore a pale green tube top and a pale blue ruffled mini skirt over pale blue leggings with yellow ribbons tied around them and matching ankle-length boots. She had beautiful giant wings that were shaped like seashells. Yellow, with a green border. She was crying.
“I'm sorry, little ones, but I can't let anything happen to you.” She brushes a hand and Y/N can feel it on his skin. We’ll be together again someday, she promises as Y/N can hear babies crying.
“Daphne. It’s time.” The young woman walked away.
The vision shifted and Y/N found himself in a hospital. The sound of a heart monitor could be heard. Then a flat line. “We’re losing them. Hurry!”
“Damn. No!”
It was quiet after that. I have to go tell the parents that–“Excuse me, ma'am? You can’t be in here–”
“I’ll take it from here, doctor,” a voice says.
A woman enters the room. Not the same one as in the first vision. The woman appeared to be in her sixties. She had long, blonde hair with striking blue eyes. She had wrinkles on her eyes. She smiles at Y/N. “When the time comes… find me.”
Y/N came out of the vision and quietly gasped. What the hell just happened?
….
It had been almost a week since Silva was attacked and Y/N’s vision. Things at Alfea had changed. Bloom finally came to Alfea and Y/N couldn't be happier than to have his sister here with him. He told her about everything that she had missed. About the Burned Ones, being changelings, his vision, Sky. At that last one, Bloom smiled. “So, I miss Hogwarts for one week, and my baby bro already has a boyfriend? Damn,” she teased. She was roommates with Terra, Aisha, Musa, and Stella. That'll be fun. Along with the good changes, there were also some bad ones as well. Sky was a lot more distant. He trained all the time, so Y/N barely saw him that much. Did it hurt? Yes, but Y/N understood Sky was hurting and needed some space.
Y/N, Bloom, and Aisha are on their way to class when they stop and look at some old photos of past Fairy students. “Can we not do this again?” Aisha says.
“I know. I know,” Y/N said.
“There are just still a few possibilities,” Bloom said. She had a vision the same night Y/N did, and when she found out he had too, they agreed to find the woman who left them in the First World. “I know it’s hard to see what someone’s going to look like when they’re older, but… see if I squint my eyes and tilt my head, this Farrah Fawcett one is a dead ringer.”
“There are a lot of fairies in the Otherworld, guys,” Aisha says.
“Well… you said the most powerful ones come through Alfea, right?” Y/N asks her. The woman, Daphne in my vision, had seashell shaped wings, and according to the book on fairy wings in the library, comes from a source called Sirenix, which is ancient ocean magic.”
“Technically, Alfea looks for magic potential,” Aisha says. “When they admit fairies, but, yes, powerful fairies come through the school.”
“Well, these women embedded these memories in our heads 16 years ago. So, they must mean something,” Bloom told her.
Aisha sighed. “Well, maybe Terra’s dad has some old yearbooks we can look through.” Y/N and Bloom smile. “After the class, we’re now officially late for. Let’s go,” she says, grabbing their hands and dragging them to class.
Sky is unfocused during his sparring match against Riven. He’s been so focused on making sure Silva’s alright that he’s off his game today. He’s been off the whole week, actually. He’s been really distant from Y/N, and he felt really bad about that. His boyfriend’s older sister finally came to Alfea. A fiery redhead, who was also a fire Fairy. Oh, the irony.
He and Riven fenced back and forth with wooden swords. Sky used one and Riven used two. Silva hobbled towards them as concern flickered across Sky’s face. Silva’s sharp eyes caught Sky’s hesitation as he called out: “Sky, watch your footwork.” The two boys continue to trade attacks until Riven gets the best of Sky and sweeps a foot under him as he falls onto the mat. “Nicely done, Riven,” Silva congratulated. “Nicely done.” Riven grins as he helps Sky to his feet.
“Does he seem worse to you?” Sky asked.
“What? Riven gets a compliment, and all of a sudden, Silva has brain damage?” Riven chuckles. They walk over to the bench where Stella is sitting, texting on her phone. She’s bundled up in a pink fluffy pink jacket, scarf, and headband. “Well, it’s been a week since he got infected by the Burned One. I dunno. Maybe I’m overreacting.”
“What do you think, Stel?”
The princess of Solaria looked up from her phone, clearly uninterested. They put their weapons in the bags. “About what?” She asks.
“Silva. How does he look to you?”
“Fine,” Stella says.
“Dr. Stella coming through with a zero-effort diagnosis,” Riven jokes. Stella ignores him. Riven takes a swig of water as Stella asks Sky: “Are you training later or are we hanging out before the party?”?Stella asks. Sky puts on his jacket. It's a bit chilly outside and his training wardrobe doesn't cover his bare arms. He's unfocused. He's focusing on Silva.
“Sky?” Stella says.
“Hmm?”
“He's fine,” Stella tells him. “Professor Harvey still has him on the Zanbaq, right?”
“Yeah, and that just manages his symptoms,” Sky counters. “He won't get better until they kill the Burned One that attacked him.”
“And there are people out there looking for it,” Stella says. It's not gonna get away from every Fairy and Specialist in the Otherworld.” She glances at Riven, then at Sky. “I have class. Stop worrying,” she kisses him on the cheek and gets up, and walks away.
“So, do you take them both at the same time, or do them separately?” Riven asks.
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm just having a hard time understanding who you're with. Is it Stella or Y/N?”
Sky frowned. “I'm with Y/N, Riv. You know that.”
“Well, then why are you starting shit up with Stella then?” Riven asks.
“I'm not starting anything,” Sky defends himself. “She's just trying to be nice, Riven.”
“Yeah, sure mate,” Riven said. “Why did you choose Y/N over Stella anyway?”
“Because I love him, Riv. He gets me,” Sky said.
“Really?” Riven smirks as a lewd thought comes to him. “It’s butt stuff. He lets you do butt stuff, doesn’t he?”
“Shut up, Riven!” Sky pushes Riven off the bench as the brown haired boy chuckles from his new position on the floor. Riven gets back on the bench, and tries to be comforting to his best friend. “Look, I would blame Y/N and Stella for your shit sparring last week, but… I know how close you and Silva are.”
“I’m about if you ever wanna, like–”
“Um… I gotta run, ok?” Sky tells Riven, as he stands up.
“Sky!”
Sky turns around. “Yeah?”
“Talk with Y/N. Don't keep pushing him away.”
Sky nodded his head.
….
Y/N sat in a classroom with other Fairy students. Sam was sitting next to him. Aisha and Bloom were sitting together and Musa and Terra were partners. Ms. Dowling had given them each different types of items in order to test their magical abilities. Y/N stared at the pages underneath his notebook. “What are you hiding?” Sam asks him. Y/N turns to look at his friend. “Nothing.”
“Come on, Y/N. I saw the pages.”
Y/N sighed. “Alright, I may or may not have stolen some pages from a Fairy book from the library.”
“You did what?” Sam asked. “Man, Griselda will kill you if she finds out.” Sam chuckled at the thought of their strict librarian. “Didn't think you were the bad boy type.”
“Well, I'm full of surprises,” Y/N grins.
“What do they say?” Sam asked, indicating about the pages. Y/N slips the pages towards him. “It talks about ancient transformation magic.There are so many of them, with different usages. Like: Enchantix, Believix, Mythix, Harmonix, and Bloomix.”
“That’s quite the list,” Sam says.
“Yeah, it is.”
“So, how are you and Sky doing?” I know things were pretty shocking last week and we’re all dealing with it differently, but how are you doing?” Sam asks. Y/N gives Sam a sad smile. “I wish I could say we’re okay, but the truth is. He’s been really distant this week, and I want to help him, but he won’t let me in.”
“That really sucks, mate.”
“Tell me about it.” Y/N focuses on Musa, then turns and smiles at Sam. “What’s going on between you and Musa?” Sam looks shocked. “What makes you think something is going on?”
Y/N chuckles. “Come on, Harvey. I’ve seen the way you look at her, and vice versa.”
Sam blushed. “It’s going well. Really good.”
“Good.”
Ms. Dowling comes to them. She looks at Sam. “Your magic connects you to living things. Feel how they communicate to you.” She walks behind them. You can give life. “Can you give life and keep its beauty hidden as well?” Sam’s eyes glow dark green as he makes two flowers sprout from the pot. He changed one flower into another and kept the other one translucent.
“Good.”
She turned to Y/N. “Snowflakes are as light as air and can travel to any place they wish. Can you do the same with that piece of twig?” Y/N’s eyes flash blue and he concentrates. He thought of the snowflakes swirling around the twig like they had him and Sky last week. He imagined it jumping from one place to the other. To his amazement, it had. The snowflakes had teleported the twig to the other side of the table. Ms. Dowling smiled.
Bloom tried to light a single piece of twig without touching the other ones. She had done it, and Y/N was a bit jealous of how she passed her first magical assignment on her first try. Aisha was next, but couldn’t isolate a single body of water without making a splash. Ms. Dowling excused the class after that.
After lunch, Y/N spent the afternoon looking through old yearbook photos, trying to find the mystery Fairy. Sam came walking into his former room later on looking at Y/N. “Hey, aren’t you going to get ready?”
Y/N frowned. “Ready? Ready for what?”
“The Senior Specialists party,” Sam said.
“Yeah, hard pass. You know I don’t do parties.”
“Right, only social at the grocery store and Sunday football games, right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
Y/N didn’t feel like going, but if it was for the Specialists, then there was a good chance that Sky would be there too. Maybe they could finally talk to each other. “Will Sky be there too?” Y/N asked hopefully.
Sam nods his head. “Yeah, Riven’s going. So, it’s a safe bet Sky will too.”
Y/N got ready.
Beer was spilling over plastic cups. A bonfire burned bright and hot as music played. The whole place was bathed in a soft purple light as teenagers Y/N's of age and older danced, kissed, and drank to their heart’s content. All of Y/N’s friends and his sister went off in different directions. That was alright with Y/N. The only reason he was here was to see a blond-haired prince from Eraklyon.
On a bench safely away from tonight’s festivities, Y/N saw Sky nursing a cup of water in his hands, staring down at his phone. Y/N smiled and walked towards his blonde boyfriend.
“Haven’t seen you all day.”
Sky looked up from his phone and smiled when he saw it was Y/N. “Have you been looking?” He looked handsome. Sky always looked handsome, but tonight he looked extra good. His blonde hair was combed back and styled perfectly. Y/N had to resist the urge to reach out and grab a handful of golden locks. He wore a blue jacket with the symbol of the school on the side.
“Desperately,” Y/N said. Sky smiles at him.
“How’s Silva?”
Sky’s smile faltered as he sighed. “Um… Rough,” he admits. He sits down and Y/N sits down next to him. “But… They’re closing in on the Burned One. It’s only a matter of time before he gets better.”
“How are you doing?” Y/N gently pushed. Sky looked down at his feet as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Maybe Y/N had pushed too hard. Then Sky admitted. “I feel shit, Y/N.” Sky licked his lips. “I’ve been a shit boyfriend as well.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Y/N told him gently. “You’ve been a great boyfriend.”
Sky shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I was so cold and distant to you and for that I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s alright. I understand. I mean yeah, it hurt, but you were dealing with a lot and the last thing you needed was Teen sex drama.”
“Teen sex drama?” Sky asks. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Y/N blushed. “You know what I mean.”
Sky looked at Y/N. “I know I’m supposed to be strong but…” Y/N held his gaze as he listened to Sky’s pain and wanted him to know that he was here for him. “Silva basically raised me after my father died. They were best friends. I know we train to fight, to risk our lives, but… I never let myself think that Silva…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know,” Y/N told him. “Certainly not with me. You can let your walls down around me and I promise I won’t let you crumble.”
Sky had a few tears in his eyes as he asked. “I know at the moment you’re at a crossroads with your parents, but how close are you with them?”
Y/N sighed. “If you had asked me that a week ago, I probably couldn’t have answered it,” he admitted. “Now that I think about it, nothing has changed. I mean, technically, yes, things are different, but my love for them is still there. Adopted or not. Love is love.”
“You always know just what to say. How is that?” Sky asked.
“Ancient Chinese secret,” Y/N jokes.
“Well, it’s a good thing I like a good mystery.”
“Yeah, well, I’m an open book, so…” They chuckled. “I could use a good distraction.”
“Well, I did hear mention of beer pong if you want a… big distraction. But we can just sit here and talk if you want,” Y/N said.
The shorter boy stood up and smirked. “Drinking beer really isn’t my thing, but I’d kick your ass at it.” Sky stood up as well and looked down at his shorter boyfriend. “Oh, is that right?” Y/N nodded his head. Sky’s eyes shined like the embers in the bonfire. “You just made a huge mistake. Come on.” He grabbed Y/N’s hand and led towards the beer pong table.
.
#fate the winx#fate the winx icons#fate the winx club#fate: the winx saga#sky fate of winx#sky x male reader#sky of eraklyon#sky fate#x male reader#male reader insert#shy male reader#male x male#ice magic#fairies#male reader#Archie andrews insert
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Fate Season 1 Appreciation Week, Day 1, Aug 7th- Favorite Character: Farah Dowling
Author’s Note: It occurred to me that if Farah had done the mildly responsible thing and accompanied Bloom to visit her parents when she told them the truth about magic and being a changeling, Farah wouldn’t have met with Rosalind and been forced to take a nap. Forgetting that Farah likely didn’t go with her because she didn’t want to leave her school vulnerable while Rosalind is free, Farah accompanies Bloom and the other girls, just for a day, to visit the Peters. A look at my favorite character through the eyes of a third party, after the events of s1. It will soon become apparent in my writing that I overuse repetition way too much. I have also never been to California so apologies if my references to weather and temperature is way off.
Characters: Farah Dowling, Vanessa Peters, Bloom Peters, Winx girls, Mike Peters (mentioned), Rosalind (mentioned)
Relationships: Vanessa Peters/Mike Peters
Warnings: References to s1 trauma, single implied reference to eating disorder
There’s a fairy in her kitchen.
There’s a fairy in her kitchen, seated at her kitchen island, and sipping a mug of hot tea.
There’s a fairy in her kitchen, and it’s not the first time this fairy has been here.
Of course, she hadn’t known she was a fairy then. Vanessa remembers clearly that first meeting with Farah Dowling, because it’s not every day a woman appears on your doorstep offering your daughter a place at an esteemed private school in Switzerland. She’d been dressed impeccably well, if a bit too warm for even the coolest of California’s summer days, but the only indication she found the heat a bit stifling was the woolen coat draped comfortably over one silk-covered arm.
She’d smiled and introduced herself, spoken clearly and plainly, no false flattery needed, used all the right buzz words and said all the right things to charm them into accepting. It makes sense now, where she’d come from, knowing what Alfea does, and who Bloom is. But back then she’d been everything one might expect of the headmistress to an international school, not a hair out of place, a grace and elegance to be admired. But she hadn’t been arrogant in her assessment of them as parents, as people, had only ever been gracious and kind.
There’d been a fairy in her kitchen, seated at her kitchen island and sipping a mug of hot tea with the bearing of a queen, somehow making the thirty-dollar mugs Vanessa hand-picked to match the kitchen cabinets look cheap.
“You have a lovely home,” she’d said, and Vanessa had smiled, having heard it a thousand times before, because nobody ever shows up to someone’s house and proclaims it to be ugly. But Farah Dowling had perused the space with warm eyes settling on the cabinet in the corner of the living room, admiring the glass figurines Vanessa had inherited from her grandmother. The collection had grown over the years, every birthday and Christmas and Mother’s Day adding something from Bloom or Mike or both, but Vanessa’s favorite had always been the glass rose, one of her grandmother’s, a present from her grandfather on their first wedding anniversary. It’s kept tucked at the back, one of the petals chipped from a bad move, and the stem has the ugly, uneven reminder of a break fixed with superglue by a child playing Beauty and the Beast, worried about mommy being mad. Farah had nodded to the case with a silent question, taken Vanessa’s waved hand of encouragement as permission to approach. And she’d looked past all those crystal figurines, the swarovski teddy bears and beautifully sculpted ballerinas to the broken rose at the back, had cradled it in gentle hands and remarked on how beautiful it was. And it’d been in that moment Vanessa decided, whatever Bloom did, she liked this woman, who saw the beauty in broken things.
But this time, there’s a fairy in her kitchen, and she is broken.
It isn’t readily apparent, and perhaps it shouldn’t be so readily apparent to Vanessa, who’s only met her twice. But perhaps that’s why it is so easily observed, because the fairy in her kitchen now is so remarkably dissimilar to the fairy that had been in her kitchen then.
Farah Dowling is no less impeccably dressed, if not still a little too warmly for even the coolest of California’s autumn days. Her woolen coat lies draped over the plastic skeleton serving as a coatrack tucked out of sight in the living room, a fruitless battle Vanessa’s been waging against her Halloween-loving husband for years. She has no excuse, currently, to detest the thing for being there, since the rest of the house is similarly bedecked for the rapidly approaching holiday in warm tones of orange and red, Vanessa’s choices straight out of the most aesthetic of interior design catalogues juxtaposed against the garish party-supplies Mike insists on retaining each year. But in a week when the pumpkin motifs have been swapped for generic autumn leaves and eventually turkeys, the skeleton will still be there, and Vanessa will comment on it, and Mike will declare it to be a a Thanksgiving skeleton, and it’ll stay right where it is.
Vanessa takes a generous sip of her tea, a camomile she’s not fond of but indulging in only out of solidarity for her guest, the fairy in her kitchen mechanically sipping from her own tea. Farah’s fingers curl around the mug just a bit too tightly, and the warm eyes that peruse the room now do so not out of quiet curiosity, but absent need, an unspoken instinct. Her gaze doesn’t rest on the china cabinet, nor the ornamental clock on the mantel, the framed paintings scattered around the walls painted by her very own student. She doesn’t comment on the loveliness of the home, nor Vanessa’s carefully chosen decorations, how the throw pillows contrast nicely with the drapes or the table runner matches the napkins. There’s no mention of how the fragrant scent of spiced apple and cinnamon from the candle between them ties the intended ambience together. She doesn’t remark with amusement at the ridiculousness of Mike’s decorations, the plastic spiders on Vanessa’s table runner or the glittery black cats and witches hats taped to the door. She doesn’t spare a passing glance at the window clings spelling out the holiday surrounded by cartoonish depictions of candy. Farah Dowling observes the room with a critical eye only interested in the essentials: the exits, the entrances, and visible weapons. The potential for threats, and the quickest way to deflect them, or defeat them.
She’s on edge, unbalanced, and the earlier spun tale of magic and mentors and massacres keeps Vanessa from asking why. Old wounds have been reopened, old scars ripped apart, and Vanessa doesn’t need to ask to know that this woman who once radiated confidence and surety has been shaken and exposed. Her movements are stilted and stiff; her mug strikes heavily against the granite countertop when she lowers it and minutely-shaking hands disappear into her lap. Her posture is perfect, too perfect, back ramrod straight and shoulders tense and muscles taut with unease and old habits. The elegance is still there, but it’s become forced, a sad facsimile to the effortless grace she’d exhibited the last time they met: the queen has become a general, a soldier prepared for war. Vanessa recognizes in Farah the same posturing she sees in Mike’s fire fighting buddies, the rebuking of pain and twisting of trauma into fragile strength, and she recognizes the same harsh lines in Farah that she’s seen in war veterans, men and women used to rigidity and structure, who salute for the flag and stand for the anthem with the same steel they’d learned in boot camp.
It’s humbling, and it’s sad. There’s a fairy in her kitchen, seated at her kitchen island, sipping a mug of tea, and she feels unsafe. She has watched a world she carefully constructed come crashing down around her, she has admitted to a narrative fabricated, and she is lost, set adrift by her own decisions and lies and drowning in uncertainty.
“You should stay for dinner,” Vanessa speaks into the silence, and Farah’s eyes snap to her, the fog of lost thoughts fading into a gentle guardedness Vanessa doesn’t take offense to. It has nothing to do with her, she knows.
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“And I wouldn’t want to send you home hungry,” because there’s a hollowness in Farah Dowling, an angular softness that comes from skipping too many meals either accidentally or on purpose. As someone who’s skipped meals accidentally, Vanessa knows how easy it is to fall into the pattern of forgetting, how quickly the day can go by without the pang of hunger to drive away the gnawing of anxiety and worry and fear. As someone who’s skipped meals on purpose, Vanessa knows how easy it is to be talked out of eating, how easily the guilt and shame can fill those hollow spaces instead. The least she can do, for this woman who’s done so much for her daughter, for this woman who’s suffered so much because of her daughter, is offer dinner, even if it’s only take-out pizza.
“I insist,” Vanessa adds, and the smile Farah offers is acquiescing and brittle. The tea she still drinks has to be cold, because Vanessa’s is, but she doesn’t complain or ask for a new cup. Vanessa is conspiring to take it from her, to whisk it away and down the drain and replace it with a fresh cup, when the thundering sound of feet on the stairs draws their attention to the hall.
“Hey mom,” Bloom leans against the counter with the overplayed innocence of a teenager already unwilling to entertain a refusal of her request, “The girls wanted to see the beach and I said it wasn’t that far so we could drive out for a beach day. We’d be back by dinner.”
Farah’s attention is easily distracted by her students, that honeyed gaze sweeping their forms for injury or ill health like she’s expecting to find something. Vanessa takes advantage, sneaking her mug out of reach to brew a fresh one, but she only makes it to the sink, mind spinning with a hastily formed plan. There’s a tick in Farah’s jaw that tells her the headmistress is reluctant to let the girls out of her sight; she’s on edge enough with them just upstairs, so to be so far out of reach must seem inconceivable even as she plans to return to Alfea tonight. But Farah stays quiet, perhaps assuming, and rightly so, that her worry holds no grounds outside Alfea’s jurisdiction, that this is Vanessa’s plan to refuse.
And Vanessa has no plans to refuse.
“I’m sorry Bloom, I was going to ask you to run some errands with me. Maybe the girls can go off on their own and you can meet them later.”
The utter scandalized betrayal on her daughter’s face is not an expression Vanessa is unfamiliar with, but the hurt lurking there too threatens to lance through her heart.
“I finally have friends,” the look seems to say, “And you’re going to force me to run errands instead of hang out with them?”
“I just can’t run these errands by myself,” Vanessa doubles down. “But there’s no reason the other girls can’t go. Your dad’ll be there, they’re having an ice cream fundraiser down at the boardwalk for the fire house!”
“Mom,” Bloom hisses, teeth grinding irritably, and Vanessa is reminded of too many similar wind ups perpetrated deliberately or accidentally and the damage they’ve done to their relationship; she folds her arms so she doesn’t break character. “You’re kind of being unfair don’t you think? Can’t we run the errands later?”
“I have to do them today, sorry Bloom. If we leave now, you should have an hour or so at the beach with the girls before dinner.”
The girls in question share pointed glances and shuffle on awkward feet, clearly uncomfortable at the turn the conversation has taken; Bloom’s defiance melts to resigned disappointment.
Vanessa wonders, for a moment, if she hasn’t miscalculated, but then-
“There’s no reason the girls shouldn’t enjoy the beach together. I can help with the errands, if you wish, so Bloom can go with them.”
“Seriously?” Bloom’s wide-eyed gaze shines with gratitude and adoration as she turns to her headmistress, “Thanks, Miss Dowling, you’re like, seriously the best.”
The look she levels at her mother holds far less contempt than Vanessa knows it can. It’s a small price for a bigger pay off, one hopefully Bloom will acknowledge and forgive her for.
“You’re too kind Miss Dowling, but I couldn’t ask that of a guest.”
“It’s no trouble, I insist. I’m afraid I’m not very good at being idle.”
Vanessa pretends to mull it over, Bloom’s bottom lip drooping into a pleading pout, and finally sighs with resignation, as though they’ve locked her into a box on their own, ignoring that she’d handed them the key.
“Oh alright. Be back for dinner, and take some of the waters in the garage fridge for your dad and the guys.”
“Thank you! Thank you thank you!”
Vanessa gets a hug despite her earlier casting as the villain, a fleeting thing that she’s come to appreciate; Farah also receives one with the frozen posture of one who isn’t used to them, or has perhaps talked herself out of wanting them. The smile she offers is small and bland, but the girls don’t notice, scurrying away as though afraid minds will be changed, chatting about sunscreen they’ll probably forget and towels and other beach-necessary items.
It’s only then Farah notices her missing mug, hands settling in loose fists on the empty countertop, and Vanessa ignores her inquisitive glance in favor of blowing out the candle and gathering her keys from the basket by the fridge.
“Shall we?”
Farah still grabs her coat, Vanessa notes with amusement, even as she places it carefully in the back as though she expects a sudden drastic dip in the temperature. They don’t speak, for which Vanessa is grateful, as she backs out of the driveway, mindful of the Anderson’s and their dog and the Robatussen kids on their bikes, grappling with the knowledge that a fairy now sits in the passenger seat of her sedan. That, and because if Farah asks about their destination before Vanessa’s gotten far enough from the house that turning around would be an inconvenience, there won’t be a destination.
It would be easy, she knows, to address the moon-size elephant in the room, to point out each and every thing Vanessa had taken note of, to use as evidence to support her claim that Farah Dowling is not okay, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. But years of boldly and mulishly and, she can now admit, callously calling out her daughter’s insecurities and problems, thinking that getting them out into the open was better than bottling them up, has taught her that perhaps it’s time for a different tactic. Perhaps, instead of cornering, as her mother use to do with her, she might try coaxing.
Author’s note pt 2: If I ever continued this, Vanessa would take Farah out for some “errands” that would ultimately end with them getting their nails done because Farah deserves pampering and as far as we know, she doesn’t have many (or any) female friends to spend time with (Luna doesn’t count, I’m sure that’s not a fun time) so I’m making Vanessa that friend. Farah would be coerced into staying for dinner, and then staying the night in the guest room, and Bloom would have her first real sleepover with the Winx girls complete with karaoke to ABBA songs.
#winxsource#farah dowling#bloom peters#vanessa peters#eve best#abigail cowen#eva birthistle#fate: the winx saga#fate winx saga#fate the winx saga#fate fanfic#long post#ftws#ftwsweek1
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Scared and alone (4/12)
Info: Silva Carrys y/n to the greenhouse and Musa and Aisha see her. The girls go check on her before leaving to lunch. Sky finds out via Blook andhim and Riven havent seen y/n for long before they are called away by Stella and Beatrix.
Relationships: Sky x Riven x Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: Mentions of death, loss of parents, harmful acts.
Masterlist
Musa and Aisha walked through the canteen to there next class when they seen Dowling and Harvey rushing past followed by Silva with a young girl in his arms. Watching them they recognized it as y/n.
"Is that............"
"Y/n yeah." Aisha nodded, interrupting Musa.
The two girls looked at each other before rushing in the direction the teachers left, bumping into Terra on the way.
"What's going on?" Terra asked in confusion.
"Y/n's collapsed or something. Headmistress Dowling, Professor Harvey and Headmaster Silva went by carrying her." Aisha said in a hurry before Terra followed them, texting Bloom.
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"Place her on the bed." Harvey told Silva before leaving to his office.
"How long does the dosage last?" Dowling asked, looking at Harvey who was working away in his office.
"Half hour, maybe more, no more than an hour." Harvey spoke before the door opened in a hurry.
The teachers turned to see Aisha, Bloom, Musa and Terra looking in concern. The four girls stopped as they seen y/n lying on a bed close by.
"What happened?" Terra asked.
"Stress." Dowling replied curtly.
"Will she be okay?" Aisha asked.
"Yes she will be fine, why don't you girls go get lunch and you can see her when she wakes up." Silva nodded at the girls.
The four girls nodded before leaving the greenhouse once again. Dowling sighed and turned to Silva with a look of concern.
"I'm surprised Sky and Riven aren't here yet." she stated.
"There in training, probably haven't heard yet. I can almost bet that they will be here at some stage if she doesn't wake up before hand." Silva stated.
"Do they know about her parents?"
"No, I don't think so. She told me not to tell Sky and I doubt that she has told them." Silva shook his head.
"She's a strong girl, but she could do with the support of those close to her. Especially with the frozen ones." Dowling stated causing Silva to nod before Harvey came back in.
"I'm going to give her an antidote to help with her control of magic. Once she has achieved it we will slowly decrease that strength before she is on her own. However, as magic is linked to emotion I am not certain that it will work for her." Harvey explained, showing Dowling and Silva ten vials in a box.
"So she still needs to be able to control her emotions." Dowling asked.
"In a way. This antidote can slightly decrease her feelings, though she will not be emotionless."
"When do you start administering them to her." Silva asked.
"Once she wakes up." Harvey stated before the door opened with a bang.
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Bloom walked out of the cafeteria and started walking through the gardens. Hearing her name, she stopped and looked back to see Sky coming towards her.
"You know you don't have to go along with everything Stella wants. There are other options. Don't do it just cause she's got a strong personality." Sky stated, walking with Bloom.
"I lost the ring. I'm going to help her get it back. It's the right thing to do, end of story." Bloom stated, shrugging her shoulder slightly.
"Two strong personalities. Got it."
"Clearly you have a type." Bloom joked before looking ahead.
"Hey, umm, how's y/n." Bloom asked causing Sky to look at her in confusion.
"She's fine, why?" Sky replied causing Bloom to stop and turn in front of him.
"Wait, you don't know?"
"Know what?"
"Musa and Aisha seen Headmaster Silva carrying her to the greenhouse. They say she collapsed due to stress." Bloom explained causing Skys eyes to widen.
"I've to go." Sky stated before rushing off.
---------------------------
Sky ran through the halls, ignoring the students he bumped into along the way. Reaching his room, he burst through the door to see Riven and Beatrix lying on the bed. They both looked up as he burst through.
"Someone's in a rush." Beatrix commented.
"Keep the door on it's hinges please, don't want Silva to blame me for something else I didn't do." Riven stated.
"Y/n's in the greenhouse. Silva brought her there, Bloom says she collapsed due to stress, I don't know but she's not awake yet." Sky said in one breath causing Riven to push away from the head board he was leaning against.
"Shit." Riven cursed under his breath as Beatrix got off the bed.
"I heard she lost control in her class, almost frosted Headmistress Dowling. People say she ran out of the class after, nobody seen where she went, my guess is the forest." Beatrix stated before kissing Riven and leaving.
"I don't need to tell you why that is such a bad idea." Sky commented, pointing Beatrix's direction.
"YOur seriously going to comment on that when y/n is in the greenhouse after collapsing from stress." Riven stated before leaving the room.
Both boys didn't speak as they pushed past students to get to the greenhouse. Both were worried about their closest friend and where very confused onto why she lost control and passed out.
Reaching the greenhouse Riven pushed the door open with a bang, startling the teachers standing around the bed where y/n lay. Sky rushed in after him and skidded, nearly falling over.
"Y/n! Is she okay?" Riven asked, pushing through Dowling and Silva, not caring that he had forced them back.
"What happened?" Sky asked, looking mainly at Harvey as he walked towards the group.
"She passed out due to stress." Harvey explained, half lying.
"SO she didn't lose control in class." Riven snapped, caressing y/ns cheek softly.
"Due to stress yes. But she is okay." Dowling lied, looking at the two boys.
Sky looked at Silva who nodded before he moved beside y/n, opposite Riven, taking a hold of her hand. He rubbed her hand with his thumb as he watched y/n breathing softly.
Riven looked at Sky briefly as a phone was heard throughout the green house. Sky looked down and got his phone before sighing, seeing who it was.
"Stella I'm kinda busy right now." He started before being interrupted, "Yeah I get that but y/n needs me right now." He sighed after a long pause." Is it really important?" "Okay, I'm on my way."
Sky hung up and let go of y/n's hand before stepping back while rubbing his head. Riven looked down as his phone went off from a text. Reading it, he also stepped back and moved to the door.
"Beatrix needs me/ Stella needs me." They spoke in unison, looking at each other before leaving, unaware of their friend hearing and seeing them leave with tears in her eyes.
#scared and alone#fate the winx saga x reader#fate the winx saga#sky x reader#riven x reader#fate#bloom#stella#beatrix#riven#sky#aisha#terra#musa#headmistress dowling#headmaster silva#professor harvey
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way it goes // Farah Dowling/Saul Silva x Daughter!Reader
Requested by anonymous: Hey I would love to see Saul and Farah who have a daughter who is the same age as the Winx with 19) Dont talk to your mother with that mouth. Maybe after getting into danger with the others they get in trouble.
Word Count: 912
Warnings: Just a couple curse words, maybe a little angsty? And slight spoilers if you haven’t seen episodes 5/6.
A/N: I hope you like it, this is my first fic where the reader was the daughter rather than a love interest so I’m a little out of my element. 🤗 Anywho, any grammar mistakes are of course my own. :’)
As the daughter of the headmistress of Alfea and the headmaster of the Specialists, certain expectations were set in place from the moment you were born. Unlike many others, you were taught at a young age how to control your powers but your parents still thought it a good idea to have you attend Alfea.
Currently it's your first year attending the fairy school. Word traveled fast who your parents were; half of the students kept their distance from you and the other half thought if they befriended you that they would get in the good graces of Headmistress Dowling and professor Silva. It was hard to tell who was actually genuine and who wasn't but after a while your gut instinct told you who was good versus bad.
The Winx were a few of the many that quickly tried to become your friend but you knew right away they genuinely liked you and there were no motives behind their likeness towards you. You all managed to get along well and even though you only knew them for a few short days so far, it felt like you knew them longer than that.
Each girl brought something different to your friendship with them. Musa and you gushed over music and you often tried your best in helping her to cope with her empathic abilities. Aisha and you were similar in the fact that you were both perfectionists, so the both of you tried to build each other's confidence up and teach one another to not be so hard on yourselves. Despite you and Stella being completely different when it came to your personalities, both of you had parents to impress so you both had an understanding with one another and would often confide in each other about your struggles. Then there was Terra. She was probably your favorite and seemed to be the biggest sweetheart. Something inside of you felt the need to protect her. Lastly, Bloom. You couldn't quite put your finger on Bloom. She was nice to you but she was very determined to figure out her past which sort of frightened you in some ways as you weren't sure how far she was willing to go. You tried your best to be there for her as well but your worried thoughts never did seem to cease.
Unfortunately your worried thoughts seemed to be right as currently you and the Winx were working up a scheme to free Beatrix, the girl that Bloom felt had all the answers. At first you were against setting the enemy free, especially because if your parents found out, you would be burnt toast. But Stella's opinion on the matter and the fact that you would actually be betraying the enemy in the end was enough to sway you.
Currently the plan was working. Beatrix had been used to get the magic barrier open in Dowling's office and now the lot of you were looking at a second barrier and within it, Rosalind. It took you a few moments before leaving Bloom by herself, your instincts now telling you how wrong this all actually was. While the other Winx left, you stayed.
Theoretically you had more experience with your powers than Bloom so you could always use them to diffuse the situation. But that had been thrown out the window as while you were stuck in your thoughts, Bloom had in fact freed Rosalind.
"Bloom!" You exclaimed, "We shouldn't have done this!" You could feel your powers coming on edge, the anxiety of the situation causing a reaction to your fairy magic but before you could say or do more, blackness engulfed you.
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You quickly sat up from where you were lying, a much bigger bed than your full size bed in the suite. That's when you felt their presence, and it was anything but happy. Standing next to the bed were your parents, Dowling and Silva, and currently they looked furious. "I messed up so bad.." you squeaked.
"Yes, you did," your mother scolded. "You have no idea how much danger you have put this school in. Your peers, the staff, yourself. How in the hell could you be so reckless?"
You flinched at your mothers words. You had never been in trouble, never gave reason to be in trouble but here you were for the first time. You didn't know how to react, except for the fact that you were feeling all sorts of emotions and felt the need to defend yourself. "Me?! How in the hell could you keep secrets like the fact that Rosalind has been alive? Or that you knew much more about Bloom than you let on? At least I was helping her! Unlike - ."
You were cut off, your father speaking up. "Don't talk to your mother with that mouth." His tone was something you had never heard before, but you knew immediately what it was; disappointment. "You have never done anything like this before until you met those girls. Maybe you ought to start choosing better friends." He rambled on before your mother spoke back up. "Because of you and the Winx, the school is under attack. You are going to stay in this room and think about your actions while we're trying to keep every one else safe because of your wise choice."
The door had been slammed behind them before you could say anything more, the guilt eating away from you the rest of the night.
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