#like fire and heat is dangerous and burns down forests and villages and is a work of naturw

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Today, Twisted Tales presents... Riddle Red Riding Hood!

I think that the first installment to Twisted Tales (Caterella) went over well, so have another one! ^^ Riddle Red Riding Hood was actually my very first idea for Twisted Tales, but it ended up being the second one released publicly. This took me considerably longer to write because I redid the action scene in this over several times.

Next up is The (not so) Little Merman! ashdbaidslbavsd I’ll be honest, these take considerable planning and brainstorming so I’ve basically only got a few more Twisted Tales planned 💦 Maybe if I asked you guys what kinds of fairy tale retellings you’d like to see me tackle...?

And so, our story opens…

Once upon a time...

There was a bespectacled baker and a young boy with bright red hair. Though the baker and the boy were not related by blood, they considered each other good friends. Thus, they lived comfortably together in a small cottage at the boundary between society and the wilderness--between their village and a great forest.

One day, the baker, Trey, came to the redhead, Riddle, with a wicker basket in hand. Lifting a corner of the checkered towel he had thrown on top, he revealed a crimped crust and a rich filling of minced broccoli, onions, and bacon bits baked into a golden, eggy base.

“Can I have you to take this to Cater’s place on the other side of the woods?” Trey asked. “I figured he’d appreciate having something different than all the sweets his sisters like to eat.”

“Very well. It shouldn’t be an issue for me. I’ll make the run now, while it is still light out,” Riddle agreed, accepting the quiche. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

He made his way to the front door, Trey lingering close behind. The baker raised an eyebrow as Riddle paused to grab a crimson cloak off their coat rack and donned it.

The fabric settled on his shoulders and cascaded down his back like freshly fallen snow. It was soft, velvet-like, and yet it fluttered so easily from the slightest breeze or bump. A beacon dyed red as blood.

Trey cocked his head in confusion. “That’s kind of... gaudy, isn’t it? You sure you don’t want to wear something else for the trip?”

“Its brightness is a boon and a necessary precaution,” Riddle replied. “Were I to wear duller colors while venturing into the woods, a hunter may mistake me as a wild animal and bare his teeth.”

“Ahahah... You don’t need to think in such extremes—but if wearing the cloak makes you feel safer, then go ahead.” One of the corners of Trey’s mouth quirked up, lending him an impish look. “I guess this would make you Riddle Red Riding Hood, huh?”

Riddle stared at him with a slight frown.

Trey gave an awkward laugh. “What, was the joke really that bad?”

“Work on your material. I won’t tolerate any half-baked attempts at humor. Next time, it’s off with your head.”

Riddle turned and swiftly exited, the door shutting closed behind him--leaving Trey with a single burning question.

... Was he mad because I used his name to replace the ‘little’ in ‘Little Red Riding Hood’?

And so the boy went on his merry way into the forest. He was an intelligent youth, and knew to not wander from the path he was so familiar with. A hand was never far from his magical pen, just in case.

He would not stray.

“Bonjour, Roi des Roses!”

Riddle whipped around. The air surrounding him charged with tension and an oppressive heat. Fire flickered in his deadly gaze, and in the ruby red gemstone of his magical pen.

“Fufu. That’s quite a dangerous look on you, Riddle-kun,” his target chuckled. He gave very little resistance and made no attempt to fight back. He only held his hands up in defeat, but beamed as though he had reunited with an old chum.

Not unusual behavior for the oddball that was the town’s local huntsman.

“... Oh, it’s only you, Rook.” Riddle relaxed, lowering his weapon. “You startled me. If you were wise, you wouldn’t risk sneaking up on me like that. I can’t guarantee you’d still have your head intact next time.”

“Ah, you speak of your unique magic!” The huntsman tipped his hat and winked. “The thought has crossed my mind what it would feel like to be bound by one of your infamous collars, to be deprived of my magic, left to the mercy of the world... Were I to weep, would I be granted clemency? Or would I be crushed under a cruel heel?”

“Don’t tell me you were hoping to be collared?” Riddle shook his head in disbelief. “You’re... an odd one, I’ll give you that. I’ll never quite fully understand how you think.”

“Perhaps some things are better left as a mystery!”

“Perhaps.”

Riddle made to walk around the huntsman, but Rook quickly sidestepped, blocking his path.

“Forgive my nosiness, but may I ask where you are headed on this fine day with that quiche? I couldn’t help but be drawn to its aroma—it is one of Trey-kun’s beloved creations, correct? But very curiously, you appear to be walking in the direction opposite of where you reside with him.”

“I’ve been asked to deliver this to Cater. If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way. It would taste best if it were dropped off still warm.”

“D’accord. I understand—I shan’t keep you distracted any longer.” Rook stepped aside, dipping into a bow. “Please send Monsieur Magicam my warmest regards!”

“I will let Cater know you were thinking of him.

As Riddle passed Rook with the flutter of his crimson cloak, the huntsman called out to him.

“Roi des Roses!”

Riddle stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Rook wore an easygoing smile, but his eyes were suspicious, upturned green slivers.

“A word of advice: do remember to stop and smell the roses—but be wary of wild animals!”

“Of course,” the redhead scoffed. “I would sooner burn this forest to the ground than allow some beast to overtake me.”

Riddle Red Riding Hood parted ways with the Huntsman, and wandered deeper into the woods. It wasn’t long before he came across a patch of beautiful roses as deep and as red as freshly drawn blood. Rook’s words resonated in Riddle’s mind.

Stop and smell the roses...

He set the quiche down and crouched by the flower bed, quietly admiring the plush petals of every rose. They were velvety soft to the touch, and as full and vibrant as the lips of a lover. Their perfume was as sweet and deep as the season itself, sending his head spiraling from overindulgence.

I’ll pick some for Trey, thought Riddle. These will spruce up the cottage. He can use the leftovers to make candied flowers.

Why, he could almost taste the sugared petals now.

Riddle Red Riding Hood pushed the quiche aside in his wicker basket, making a small amount of space for the roses.

He took his time surveying the roses, seeking out only the most pristine ones for his friend. Plick, pluck--one by one, he picked the best flowers and dropped them in the basket.

So concentrated was he on his task that he hadn’t noticed the sun had sunk into the horizon. He was tired, and his phone dead, by the time he was done.

His shadow had elongated, morphing into a monster of its own as he finally stood and searched for the path. In the darkness, he could see nothing. If his phone were not out of battery, the flashlight feature would have been useful for carving the path forward in light.

Unfortunately, it was not as easy as that.

“Drat...! I can’t make out a single thing like this.”

Riddle fished out his magical pen and, with the flick of his wrist, willed his gem to glow. A spark instantly ignited, creating a strong circle of light around him.

“That’s better.”

I must be careful about conserving my energy. Keeping up this illumination when I’ve already exerted myself a fair amount to get this far into the woods... It could be disastrous if I were to accumulate a high amount of blot.

Riddle Red Riding Hood treaded carefully, running a hand along each tree’s gnarled bark as he went by. His eyes scanned the dark, alert for any danger.

Then his foot came down on something soft, and a pained grunt sounded off.

Riddle’s spine stiffened. He slowly lowered his eyes to the ground, to where his shoe was. There, trapped under his boot, was a bushy mass of grey fur, which trailed behind a trunk.

A trunk that was... whining?

“What...?” Riddle raised his light--and his voice--as he removed his boot. “Show yourself at once!”

There was a pause as the whining died down.

Then a tall, muscled figure emerged from its hiding place. Despite the fluffy tail and ears, his face was severe, eyes and mouth arranged into a scowl. A low growl coiled in the back of his throat, decorated with a crown of canines.

A beastman? And a wolf one, from the looks of it. Riddle tensed, but held his ground. “Who are you, and just what are your intentions?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” the beastman replied. “What are you doing this deep in the woods?”

The smaller boy stood his ground. “There is no rule which states that travelers are forbidden from this area.”

“No rule maybe, but there are rumors. A dangerous predator that stalks this place. Being out after dark will only paint a target on your back.”

“Your point being?” Riddle’s gaze took a fierce turn. “I will have you know that I am completely capable of looking after myself. I would not be trusted to deliver this quiche to my friend were I not.”

The beastman glowered. “You should have done it in the daytime. Or at least you should’ve brought someone with you. Kids shouldn’t wander into the woods alone.”

“I beg your pardon? I am NOT a child, I am a young man, 17 years of age!” Riddle Red Riding Hood struggled to fight his voice from climbing in volume.

The leaves overhead shuddered, and little feet scampered across the dirt. Heat flooded his face, and he felt flames rising from underneath his skin. Boiling rage that he just scarcely managed to clamp a lid over.

“You’re... 17?” The wolf looked taken aback, his ears flattening at the discovery. “No way. You’re older than me?”

Riddle blinked, his anger simmering down—tempered by surprise. “You’re younger than me?!”

“... I guess so?”

“N-No matter! It’s just an early growth spurt, that’s all! I… I still have time to grow!!” Riddle cried insistently. “Men grow until their early 20s!”

“I didn’t say anything about your height.”

“………………………. O-Oh.”

An awkward silence followed.

Riddle cleared his throat, banishing his embarrassment into the darkness. Scrambling to change the subject. “I-I’m afraid we might have gotten started on the wrong foot.”

He extended a hand. “Riddle Rosehearts. I’m looking for my friend Cater’s residence on the other side of this forest.”

The beastman glanced away, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. Still, his hand slowly found its way to Riddle’s and gave it a gruff shake.

“Jack Howl. You know Cater-senpai?” His guard faltered.

Riddle Red Riding Hood raised a brow. “You do as well?”

“Yeah. I live around here too, so I see him all the time. Guy smiles a lot and talks my ear off. Always on his phone, asking me to hang out…”

“That’s certainly Cater.” Riddle relaxed. “Hmm. I can see now that I’ve misjudged you. Cater is skilled in reading others. Were you truly nefarious, he would not have approached you as he did. It appears that an apology is in order.”

“… No. I owe you an apology too. I thought you were someone suspicious. Maybe even the monster that people were about. But now that I’m looking at you clearly, you don’t seem so bad.”

“Well… perhaps the ‘lost’ part is true. I unfortunately lost track of time.” Riddle waved a hand. “What’s this I hear of a monster?”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know about it.” Jack’s expression darkened, the dips in his face appearing more severe as long shadows crept over the peaks. 

He cast a cautious look to his left and to his right. “No one has ever laid eyes on the thing.”

“Then how are you sure that it exists? If it lives only through rumors, it is no different than a monster that hides under the bed. Just a tall tale told to children to frighten them into obedience.”

“There are stories,” Jack growled, “of people who enter the forest and never return. And the ones who do? They’re forever changed. Frozen in fear or saying things that shouldn’t be possible.

“It can be anywhere at any time. It’s odorless and soundless. When you notice it’s there, it’s already too late for you to escape. It will pursue you to the ends of Twisted Wonderland.”

Riddle Red Riding Hood crossed his arms. “It sounds like a whole lot of hogwash to me. Hmph, I’m shocked that you even entertain the idea to begin with.”

“I’m not entertaining anything.”

Jack’s snarl reverberated in the night. Loud enough to echo, quiet enough to carry. His fists were clenched, nails digging into his skin, knuckles the color of bone.

“I’ve lived to tell the tale.”

Riddle’s eyes widened. “You...”

They regarded one another warily in that sphere of light, gold dappling their skin and hair. Both of them gilded, appearing softer in the comfort that it provided.

“You’ve... been through something difficult, haven’t you?”

The beastman snorted, turning away. There was darkness ahead, and his feet shuffled, testing the bubble of light that guarded them, threatening to burst into that inky area. “... This way.”

“Excuse me?”

“This way,” he repeated darkly, “is a shortcut to Cater-senpai’s.”

Jack’s eyes cut to Riddle Red Riding Hood. A silent invitation, a dare, to follow where he led.

“... I see your game,” scoffed the boy in red, “and I’ve already told you, I am not in need of your protection, nor your directions.”

“Wh-What!!” Jack glared at him, fur bristling. “Y-You’ve got the wrong idea! I’m not offering to help you or anything! I’m not trying to protect you, either!! I just... just...”

Riddle watched him with an unamused look plastered on his face. “Yes, I believe you.”

“YOU CERTAINLY DON’T!!”

Jack’s shout caused the world to shake violently. Plants trembled, and the distant sound of pittering paws sounded.

Everything settled.

And Jack stilled.

“In any case,” Riddle Red Riding Hood continued, strolling past the beastman, “I must be on my way. I’ve wasted quite a bit of time minglging with you, and the quiche is already getting...”

He crashed into one of Jack’s broad arms. Roaring flooded Riddle Red Riding Hood’s ears.

“GET DOWN!!”

Jack tackled the boy with the full force of his weight, arms encircling his torso in a cage. The magical light was snuffed out, and Riddle Red Riding Hood’s pen, missing amongst the shadows.

Their screams and bodies wove together, and the two of them were sent across the forest floor. Rolling, rolling, and gathering stains of dirt and chlorophyll.

The boys’ momentum came to screeching stop only when they crashed into something sturdy, something solid. A great oak loomed over them, its leaves whistling, as if mocking their disorientation, their groaning.

Riddle Red Riding Hood had the luxury of shaking the stars from his head, the time to collect himself.

Jack was already on back on his feet.

A scream of horror tore through the tension. Riddle Red Riding Hood—who had taken a moment to squint into his basket—found the quiche dirtied and fragmented.

“Are you MAD?!” Riddle Red Riding Hood hollered. Heat rose to his face, temper and nostrils flaring. No amount of dusting or glue would restore quiche back to its once pristine state.

But Jack wasn’t paying attention. No, he was preoccupied with growling at a thicket.

Nothing moved, nothing smelled, nothing made a sound.

Riddle Red Riding Hood’s heart caught in his throat.

“It’s here,” Jack breathed. “The monster.”

WHOOSH!

Something went whirring hard, whipping the wind behind it with a sharp snap. There was gleaming and pointed shapes shifting in the night. Something they couldn’t quite see.

The wolf thought fast, and he moved even more quickly.

He dove, shoving Riddle Red Riding Hood away, then barreled after him—and not a moment too soon.

The teeth of an unknown creature nipped at their ankles as they collapsed against another tree. Their skin was saved, but not the hem of Riddle Red Riding Hood’s crimson cloak. It was shredded as something long, thin, and stiff sailed through it, leaving holes in their wake.

They had just narrowly dodged the brunt of the onslaught.

Jack looked back, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting. A vague shape prowled toward them, silent but deadly.

“It’s coming!! Run…!!”

“I refuse!” Riddle Red Riding Hood huffed. “I’m not afraid of a creature too cowardly to show its true face. I will incinerate it before it even…”

He felt for his magical pen, but stopped when his fingers met no wand at his breast pocket. The boy furiously groped around at the dirt beneath him.

“My magical pen!! Where is my… ack!!” He let out a pained cry as something latched onto his wrists.

“Shhhhh. Tais-toi.” A whisper of an unfamiliar language teased him.

“That voice! You’re…!!”

Flesh snaked over his mouth, silencing the boy. Goosebumps raised on Riddle’s skin. Warm breath hovered by the shell of his ear. His cheek, lovingly caressed.

“You are mine now.”

“Riddle-senpai!!” Jack’s shout cut through the darkness like a beacon of light. He glowered into the unknown. “I don’t know what you are, but you’d better let him go right now!”

There was no answer. Jack didn’t need one to sense what was happening. The scuffle of limbs and Riddle Red Riding Hood’s muffled cries were enough to know.

He was being taken.

“I said…. LET HIM GO!!”

A wind whipped up, casting a hole in the tree leaves. The monster shuffled into the shadows, its form concealed from view—with Riddle still trapped in its iron grasp.

Light pooled through the tear in the treetops, lining Jack with an ethereal luminosity. A single silver orb hung high in the sky. His backlight.

The full moon.

His eyes glowed in the dark, matching the celestial bodies in the night.

“Unleash the Beast!!”

At his chant, sparkles spilled over him. His body began to shift, shuddering as flesh and bone rippled and wove into a new form.

Jack fell onto all fours, fur sprouting where skin should have been. Canines lengthening, fingers sharpening into claws, senses heightening.

The transformation was complete in a blink. Where Jack once stood was a handsome and proud wolf, packing powerful muscle on its large frame, its thick fur the color of an early morning mist and a rainy sky. 

With a mighty roar, Jack leapt at the monster and its hostage. Their collision sent them sprawling onto the forest floor, Riddle flung in one direction, and the monster in the other.

Jack quickly lodged himself between the two, baring his fangs at the monster. Through his augmented vision, he could tell that it was humanoid, moving with the strength and the grace of a wild cat.

A formidable opponent.

Jack came at it again, intent on pinning it down with his front paws. The monster met him with an interception, strong hands locking onto his muzzle and holding him back. Fingers crept to his lips, prying his mouth open.

“My, what sharp teeth you have,” the monster chuckled. “All the better to eat me with, I presume?”

A chill traveled down his fur. Fear rattling at the fearlessness.

Jack snapped his maw shut, almost cutting the monster’s fingers clean off. His teeth were every bit as pointed as knives.

“Fufu. I can see that your bite is as powerful as your resolve.”

“Wait! Both of you, stop!!” Riddle Red Riding Hood demanded, weakly grasping onto one of the wolf’s hind legs. “There’s been a grave misunderstanding!!”

Jack shook him off. “Stay back, senpai!!” This guy’s dangerous—and I’m sorry, but you can’t defend yourself without your magical pen.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot allow you to make off with him. Do not be deceived by the wolf, Riddle-kun. You will only be led astray.”

“You fools!!” the boy seethed. Were the moon to pierce the trees, it would reveal Riddle’s bright red face. “Do your ears work?! Listen when you are being spoken to!! I am ordering you BOTH to stand down!!”

Alas! His plea fell upon deaf ears.

The two combatants rushed at each other once more, trading furious blows and blocks. Fabric ripping, flesh and bones cracking.

Riddle struggled to understand the ebb and the flow of the battle cast under a veil of darkness. He cautiously shuffled forward on dirt-caked knees, straining his eyes and his ears to follow the duo.

Slashes of silver peeked through the web of bleak black—and at first, Riddle thought they were stray moonbeams. The grunts and hisses that followed sunk his belief.

No, those are claws and arrows.

Riddle prayed there would be no blood spilled, no metallic tang to stain the beaten path. Which would be a crueler fate: one of them injured, or himself torn in twain from throwing himself between the two?

Riddle Red Riding Hood’s palm came upon something hard on the ground. Too smooth to be a rock or a fallen branch. Yet firm and familiar to the touch.

A gasp rushed out from his lungs.

The missing magical pen.

Fiery determination returned to him, flames flickering to life at his fingertips. All the rage he had been repressing gushed forth like lava punching through a wooden dam.

Riddle closed a fist around the magical pen’s barrel. Raising it high above his head, he recited a spell:

“It is time to deliver your sentence. The verdict will come afterward. Are you ready?”

He breathed deeply, then let his shout cleave the night open.

“Off With Your Heads!!”

The trio found themselves at a strange turn of events. Covered in dirt and bruises, clothes stained and torn, Riddle Red Riding Hood towered in triumph.

“Just as I thought,” he smirked, yanking the monster by the collar into the moonlight. “It was you all along, Rook.”

“So you have,” the huntsman replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Félicitations, Detective Roi de Roses.”

“… Please don’t congratulate me for this.”

“You’re… just an ordinary human.” Jack stared at Rook, then let his eyes dart to Riddle. “He’s really the one that’s been stalking around this forest and scaring folks?”

“He has a tendency to do that, yes. His duties as a huntsman keep him close to the woods most of the time. And his eccentricities, well...” Riddle tutted at Rook, releasing his hold on the collar. “You need to stop troubling the local residents.”

“Je suis désolé. My curiosity gets the better of me! To suppress it would be to deny myself the thrill of the hunt.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were trying to kidnap Riddle-senpai!” Jack protested.

“No, it doesn’t.” The short boy folded his arms, his expression turning stern. “Care to elaborate for us?”

“Fufu. You see, I am well acquainted your house mate, Trey-kun. I happened to pass by your residence as I was returning from chopping wood. It was already a hearty evening by then.”

Rook sighed deeply. “How worried Trey-kun was!! He confided in me that he had sent you, Roi du Roses, to the other side of the woods on a delivery. You had sworn to return by dinnertime—yet when it arrived, you were nowhere to be found!“

“Wait, so that means…” Riddle reeled as realization set in.

“Oui. I was asked to seek you out, and to ensure that you returned home safely. When I witnessed you with a beastman, and one that had eluded me before—”

“—you stepped in to ‘rescue’ me… because, in your eyes, Jack was the monster, not you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You are correct, but you are also wrong.” Rook chuckled to himself. “While it is true that I intended to fetch you, it is also true that I was hopelessly enamored to come upon a beastman!! There are so few of them in our little village. I must take every opportunity to observe them!”

He took a long stride toward Jack, placing himself uncomfortably close to the him. Jack growled, stepping back.

“I’ve always yearned to witness you up close. Your strength, your speed…!!” Rook laughed like a drunken sailor. “They are second to none, Monsieur Tough Guy!! It was a joy sparring with you.”

“… You stay away from me.”

“So you fought simply to sate your own whims,” Riddle grumbled. “Spurned by your provocations, Jack retaliated, believing that there was genuine danger afoot.”

“It was my bad. I shouldn’t have,” he confessed, his tail visibly deflated. Jack looked more like a dejected puppy than a wolf.

“At the very least, it seems that the air has been cleared. Now, on the matter of the quiche!!”

Riddle motioned to his wicker basket, and to its crushed contents. Only the roses he had picked were salvageable, save for a few loose petals.

“You two shall accompany me the rest of the way to Cater’s. You’ll apologize to him for the mess you’ve made, then you will bake him a quiche to replace what was ruined.”

“What?!” Jack’s ears perked up, suddenly alert with alarm. “You want us to…”

“That is the rule!” Riddle bellowed, stomping a foot to punctuate his point. “You must make proper amends, as you both bear some responsibility for the quiche’s destruction.”

Jack’s expression was a scowl arranged with pieces of reluctance. “… Okay. I’ll do it. I feel bad for what I did—and I don’t want to leave things off with such a half-assed apology.”

“Good. Any objections?” Riddle cocked his head to Rook.

“None. I’m ecstatic to accompany you, Roi du Roses, and even moreso to spend the time with you, Monsieur Tough Guy. To restore what once was yours… Truly, there is no quest so nearly as noble! Oh, how my heart sings with anticipation!!”

“… Well. I suppose that settles it then.” Riddle Red Riding Hood gripped the wolf and the huntsman by the wrists. “Come now, we’re already running very late.”

So the odd trio made their way down a dark path and to the other side of the forest. Silver streaked their skin as they exited, the trees bidding them farewell with waves of their branches.

A lone cottage stood under the spotlight of the moon.

Rapping one’s knuckles upon the door yielded a crack, and the flash of orange tresses and green eyes behind it. A familiar face after a day filled with nothing but utter nonsense.

Riddle offered some of the roses he had plucked and a smile. “Good evening, Cater.”

“Eh, Riddle-kun and… co?” He blinked at the hulking wolf, the huntsman, and the boy in the red riding hood on his doorstep. “Jack-kun and Rook-kun too? What are you guys doing here at this hour? Cay-kun’s busy catching up on his beauty sleep.”

“It’s a long story, but simply put… We’ll need to borrow your kitchen to set things right. These two—” Riddle glanced at guilty Jack and a beaming Rook. The gleaming collars they sported were proof enough of their wrongdoings. “—have crimes to atone for.”

“My kitchen? Set things right? Crimes? I’m not sure I totally follow!!” Cater ran a hand through his hair, looking completely bewildered. “Trey-kun’s gotta be seriously worried!

“Ne, shoot him text message to let him know where you are! Trey-kun was just asking me if I knew where you were a few hours ago.”

“I’ll need to recharge my phone.” Riddle flushed with slight embarrassment.

“Eeeh, you don’t have a portable charger? Those things are lifesavers! No wonder why no one could get in contact with you.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience. I’m ashamed that I allowed myself to lose track of time.”

“Ah, geez! You don’t need to bow your head or anything.” Cater stepped aside and opened the door fully. He gestured with a hand. “Here, come in and stay the night. It’s way too late for you three to be out. Riddle-kun—come charge your phone!”

“Thanks.” Jack nodded as he passed. “I’ll do my best on your apology quiche, senpai.”

“You have my undying gratitude for graciously hosting us!” Rook added, a skip to his step as he followed Jack. “We shall make ourselves small! Why, you won’t even notice us in your abode.”

“Yeah, no probs! Make yourselves at home!” Cater glanced at Riddle, the last of his guests, who had yet to cross. “Sooo, you gonna spill that piping hot tea or what?”

“Oh, I assure you that there is plenty to ‘spill’,” Riddle reassured him. A small smirk formed on his lips as he laid his roses in Cater’s arms. “It begins with ‘once upon a time’…”

And they lived happily ever after...

The End

#twst #twisted wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #Rook Hunt #twisted wonderland imagines #Jack Howl #Cater Diamond #Trey Clover #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #something no one asked for #Twisted Tales #beyond the looking glass #twisted wonderland AU #twst AU #AU #twst imagines #twst scenarios #Little Red Riding Hood

[booleanean]

Day 5 - Predator & Prey - Hypnosis

"You're sure you want to do this?" Lara asked for the fourteenth time.

"Yes, love, I'm sure," you reply.

"I know this is my fantasy, I don't want you to feel pressure to—"

You place a digit over her lips, breaking her off mid sentence. She wrinkles her nose, your fur tickling her sensitive predator nose.

You pull your finger away and press your lips against Lara's. "I told you, I like role reversals. I just need a little help to overcome instinct, that's all."

She smooths your ears back. No one but your wolf love gets to touch them, of course. Bunnies hate having their ears touched, but when she does it…

Her long snout presses against you. Your much shorter tongue plays over her long canines, and you feel a familiar heat building inside. A need to feel that tongue elsewhere, to feel those teeth at your throat, a micron away from drawing blood as you scream her name in ecstasy.

"Oh no, you're not going to get away with distracting me like that, Lara. Let's get started."

You push her away gently and sit back down on the edge of the bed. Lara tells you to close your eyes and listen to the sound of her voice. You can hear the slight tremble of anticipation, but soon lose yourself in her soothing tone. You drift in an ocean of nothingness, feeling your body dissolve. You hover on the edge of annihilation, a familiar place the two of you visit together often, but never before for this.

You listen to her instructions, carefully crafted together over weeks and months of anticipation-building planning and fantasizing together. No drawing blood, don't involve others, the hunt ends at sunrise. More rules and instructions, all designed to help you overcome your prey instincts, to embody the predator so she could help satisfy her wolf's need to be the prey.

"When the alarm rings, you'll wake up and hunt me down."

You float in emptiness, your body feeling a soft kiss on the top of your head, then hearing the door click shut and soft wolf paws padding down the hallway. The outer door opens and closes, and you her Lara move down the garden path, the stone shifting under her weight. You lose track of her as she moves down the lane, not even your bunny ears being able to pick up on her movements over the general noise of nature outside.

Emptiness is shattered when your phone beeps. Along with the noise, a terrifying hunger fills you. A need so strong it drives away conscious thought, a need to find your love and make her yours. You sniff the air, though you can't smell well enough to pick up her scent. Instead, you focus on what you can do well. In one leap, you're at the door, then through, and at the back door with two more. You barely hit the path as you leap over the back gate, then down the suburban street in the direction you heard your love go.

You greet Mrs. Sandoval as you sprint past out into the wilderness just outside the village. Her puzzled gaze on your back doesn't bother you like it would normally, your high natural anxiety suppressed today. The light is failing, but then you never rely much on your eyesight anyway.

You pause in the middle of the field behind Mrs. Sandoval's house, listening, straining to hear the slightest noise. There. A different rustle to the grass. You leap away, three long bounds bringing you to where the sound is subtly different. Lara's top. You bring it to your face, smelling her perfume, her fur, and the underlying scent of predator underneath it all. Normally, that scent sends a wicked thrill down your spine. The sensation of danger barely tamed, of a roaring fire in the backyard, a sword sheathed, a wolf full of fresh meat. Today, it fuels your need to hunt.

You tear off your own top. It feels restrictive all of a sudden. Your pants follow, and you stand naked in the field, covered only by your fur like nature intended. Your love talks about this sometimes, describing the burning need to return to nature, to be one with the plains and the forests, to live off what you can catch or die trying, to find your pack and let yourself be subsumed by them.

A twig breaking far away snaps your attention to a spot hundreds of meters away, innate prey reflexes serving the hunter well. Your natural hesitation is gone, your love's hypnosis holding it at bay for a day. You're twenty meters from where Lara left her top by the time it hits the ground again, and another ten before it settles. Without the burning instinct to zig-zag, without the need to throw off your pursuer, you rely on your straight line speed to find your prey. Long legs propel you forward, your arms barely steadying your breakneck rush through the tall grass. The wind of your flight rushes through your fur.

This is exhilarating. You don't feel the need to protect yourself, to stay to the safe places, run along walls. All that is unnecessary in modern society, prey and predators having made peace centuries ago, but instinct is hard to break for long. You relish the sensation of power this gives you, the freedom to go anywhere and fear nothing.

You barely pause when you reach spot where Lara broke the twig. You know it was her deep, deep down. You leap, pushing off a tree's trunk mid-air then onto a large branch, perching like a raptor. You close your eyes and slowly move your ears, fanning across the forest in a slow circle. The world reduces to sound, your domain.

There. Almost imperceptible at this distance, but you hear rustling. A large body moving through the undergrowth, breathing hard. Now that you know where to focus, you can hear what plants Lara's moving through. She's naked like you, her pants discarded along the way, the need to flee bringing out the animal inside, making clothing superfluous and uncomfortable. She's on all fours, almost as fast as you are, sprinting away at an angle, though in a straight line. Despite her need to be hunted, still the predator, thinking only of speed.

You feel the land, see the familiar glades and streams you explored as a child, that you showed Lara when you moved into your house barely a stone's throw away from your parents. Lara runs through them, past where you had a picnic on your first anniversary, then leaping across what was a mighty river to you and your siblings, but in reality is just a small creak.

If you run now, angle the right way— Yes, this is where you meet. You leap down and set off sprinting. The cold late October night air cools you, sweat refusing to even soak into your fur as the wind of your rush evaporates it faster than it can form. You're gaining on Lara, your deep, pervasive hunger building.

You leap from fallen trunk to hillock, past a feral badger's den. You burst into a field, sprinting along the edge of the forest at a speed most other mammals, feral or not, can only dream of. Lara is close, but she's running upwind. You catch a glimpse of silver fur, a white tuft on the end of her tail. She whines and yelps as she finally notices you so close, a panicked noise that goes straight to the pleasure center of your brain. Soon, you'll catch her and taste her, claim her as yours and only yours.

You hear her panting, close to exhaustion. A pack hunter, used to having the option to fall back as her packmates take chase. You're built to run for your life, the only option freedom or death. Now, the only option is success, catching your prey, tackling her to the ground, making her yours.

Lara stumbles, her attention split between the path and you, the unfamiliar terrain leaving her at a disadvantage. You leap, missing her by centimeters, your soft paws, made for digging, brushing the tip of her tail as she finds her feet and darts away. Her greater mass gives her the disadvantage, and you're on top of her in two leaps. Had the roles been reversed, the failed attempt to tackle would've let you escape. Your agility works in your advantage, and the two of you connect and tumble through the soft leaves covering the forest floor.

Lara's out of breath, panting wildly as you pin her to the ground. She weighs easily twice what you do, and is three times as strong, but in the frame of mind she's in, she's lost.

"Caught you." You move closer, and kiss her neck, right over her carotid. Her fur is damp with her sweat, the smell of exertion fueling your lust. The feeling of confronted fear that you normally have at smelling your predator lover so close by is absent. Instead, the smell gives you an even stronger confidence, a sense of accomplishment. You completed your first hunt, and now it's time to claim your prize. Your fingers close around her wrists, holding them above her head.

She is yours to do with as you please, at your mercy. You waver between going down on her, and pushing her snout between your legs. The need to consume wins out, and you move down. You can smell her heat, the moment for this hunt picked on purpose to coincide with it. The two of you fuck like rabbits all the time, but when your love is in heat there is an extra edge that drives you wild.

Her fur tickles your nose as you go down on her. She is delicious on your tongue, all the more for being your prize for your successful hunt. The feeling of power this gives is intoxicating, and your head swims with more than the taste and smell of her.

She writes, play-struggling, whispering soft encouragements you don't need but still enjoy as you dig deep with your tongue. Her anatomy, so different from your own yet so familiar, brings you even more pleasure than you're used to.

When she climaxes, she howls involuntarily, filling the cold night air. The sounds usually sends a delicious tremor of fear through you, but today you throw your head back and join her. The sound is unfamiliar in your throat, but feels so right in the moment. The connection with your love is intense, a fresh bond impossible to break.

You move up, positioning yourself over her snout. Her long tongue snakes out, slipping inside effortlessly. The chase has left your body burning hot, the success releasing massive quantities of endorphins. Her tongue on you feels good beyond description. You can feel her need to thank you for showing mercy, for not consuming her utterly, tearing her limb from limb and devouring her wholesale, bones and all.

Her tongue probes so deeply, finding spots inside yourself you didn't know existed before you met her. Her strong paws steady you as you give yourself over to her, not in the usual surrender, but knowing as the predator your prey will do nothing but please you now that she is caught.

You stroke her hair, her pointed ears so incredibly soft under your fingers. Her breath is short, her nose bent and pressed against you as her tongue shows you what pleasure is really like. You howl as you cum, Lara's muffled response trembling through you as she fights instinct to keep your orgasm going.

After, Lara lays in your arms. Standing upright, she overtops you by a head even counting your ears, but today she's curled up against you, using your arm as a pillow as you scratch behind her ear idly. She's content, satisfied in ways you haven't felt her in a long time. You care for her like she cares for you after a particularly intense session, telling her you love her, telling her how much she means to you, that she is a good girl and has pleased you. She lets out soft, contented grunts, a dog happy that she has pleased her master.

You drift off to sleep not long after you hear her snoring, exhausted the chase and your lovemaking.

When the dawn comes, you start awake. You're not at home. Where are you? Is there danger? Before you can assess anything, you feel your wolf's arms around you. With her, you know you are safe regardless of where you are, and you curl back into her arms. A hint of the hypnosis remains, a confidence regained now that you're awake.

"I really enjoyed hunting you," you whisper.

"You did so well, my love." Lara's voice is so soft, even you strain to hear her.

"Are you satisfied?" You know she is, you feel it in every move she makes, every syllable she utters.

"Oh yes. I really needed that. Thank you."

"I really enjoyed it. I want to do it again. Not now, but soon."

You feel Lara's snout press against you, a wolf's kiss for her bunny love. "I'd like that, very much."

#krakentober #kinktober #hypnosis #predator and prey #lagomorph #canine #wolf #anthro #furry nsft #second person pov #original smut #original fiction

[tranquil-turbulence]

SasuSaku Month ‘22 Day 17

Day 16 | Day 18

Day 17 Prompt: Estate

-Deities AU-

Warning: Snakes

The air was thick and heavy in and around the mysterious shrine; Long, straggly-limbed trees doubled over, their dark, lush foliage dragging the misty grasses and a low, mournful wind rustled her hair and sent shivers down her spine.

Sakura swallowed, glancing behind herself for a quick second before tightening her grip on the offering in her hands. There would be no turning back now.

She took her first step onto the smooth stone of the stair, and all at once a creeping feeling made goosebumps bloom all along her arms, hairs standing alert.

Something was watching.

The weight of what seemed to be a hundred eyes bore into her back as she climbed the stairs and entered the little building. Statues adorned the inside, twin snakes at each side of the gaping maw of the entrance and slabs of text hung on the walls. In the very center of the little shrine was an altar, the shadowy statue of a man brandishing a katana standing in a silent vigil over it. Two braziers stood at either side, faithfully burning with the god’s presence and casting a warm glow about the room.

Slowly, one of her knees hit the floor, and the rest of her soon followed as she lay the cloth-wrapped sword atop the altar, her family’s crest glimmering from the hilt in the glow of the fire. Trembling, she prostrated herself, forehead pressed against the cold stone, hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back..

“I beg you to hear my pleas,” she began. “My village... my family... our lives are in great danger. A foreign nation wishes to invade and kill us all. I have been sent as a sacrifice for you, Hebi-sama, so that you may graciously grant the prayer of my village. Please spare them and take me instead, whether to eat me or to keep me.”

For several long moments, there was no answer.

Sakura waited, her fingers dragged along the stone and feeling the grit under her nails. The village elders had told her that Hebi-sama was a stubborn god, a silent one that preferred results to meaningless prose.

Yet as she waited, she could not help but feel a little silly, kneeling before a cold altar in what should be an empty shrine in the middle of the Forest of Death.

They already expect me to die, she reasoned with herself as she opened her eyes. I could leave. I could leave and they would never know otherwise; all they would have to fear is death.

She let out a silent breath from her nose, guilt panging in her heart at the thought. Could she abandon them like that?

Just as she decided to get up, a frigid wind blew through, making her shudder and extinguishing the fires in one moment.

Fearfully, she dared to lift her head.

Cold red eyes stared down at her from the sudden darkness. From what she could make out, they belonged to a very tall man. Hair black as the night sky framed a handsome, pale face. His brows were furrowed in displeasure, his lip curled into a sneer.

Sakura’s blood felt like ice. Her heart began to pound in her throat, sending pulses of dizziness through her skull.

“You dare look upon a god?” His voice, velvety in timbre, scoffed from the shadows. “Either you are brave, or very, very foolish, mortal.”

“A thousand apologies, sir,” she stumbled over her words as she hastily bowed her head again, “I-- I only come on behalf of my village and its elders.”

“So I heard.” A rustling caught her attention, though she didn’t look up again. Something cold and scaled brushed against her leg, making her breath hitch in her throat - a snake.

She bit back a squeak as a smooth hand curled beneath her chin and lifted her face, and suddenly those ruby eyes were right before her, making her face heat up in a creeping blush.

“And what,” he spoke no louder than a murmur, “would you give me in return for the lives of your countrymen?”

She was certain he could feel her throat bob as she swallowed, before shakily answering, “I give you my life.”

The god didn’t answer right away, calculating eyes narrowing and scanning her up and down.

That same scaled tale brushed against her leg a second time, and for the quickest of moments her eyes darted down, only to widen in realization.

Hebi-sama wasn’t just a god associated with snakes...!

A low chortle made her look back up, and an amused smirk adorned his face.

“You’re a smart one,” he praised, one of his sharp nails caressing her jawline. “You amuse me.”

Without another word, he let her go - and when she made to get up, his tail looped around her waist.

Sakura really did squeak this time, hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick tail as she was lifted aloft.

The young-looking god brought her closer, the black tomoe in his eyes now spinning slowly.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he breathed across her lips, nose-to-nose. She hoped he couldn’t hear how loudly her heart was racing as he stared into her eyes. “I will spare your village. But in return... you will be my bride.”

Her eyes grew wide, for a split-second in fear, but it melted away into surprise. “That’s... that’s it? No catch?”

Hebi-sama tilted his head in question. “What would you consider a catch?”

“I dunno... um, death?” She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders. “You’ll grant them your protection? And all I have to do is...?”

“Unless you would prefer they die.”

She swallowed hard, studying his handsome visage for several long moments.

This was not how she expected to end her fruitless voyage into the forest. But it wasn’t wise to look a gift horse in its mouth...

Slowly, she nodded. His hand cupped her cheek as she whispered, “Very well. I will accept.”

#sasusaku month 2022 #sasusaku #deities #tw: snakes #pre relationship #divine marriage

[amour393]

CLING CLANG HEAR YE HEAR YE

Kai can (probably) heat his hands at will and YA MNOW WHAT THAT MEANS

KAI CAN CAUTERIZE WOUNDS

AND NOW I NEED A SITUATION WHERE SOMEONE IS BLEEDING OUT AND EVERYONE IS PANICKING AND KAI CAUTERIZES THE WOUND AJFHFJSSJFHSJ

#this is actually a really deep metaphor for kai tho #like fire and heat is dangerous and burns down forests and villages and is a work of naturw #but its also a kind and calming force that keeps people warm #and cooks their food #and heals #ninjago #ninjago kai #kai smith

[ladyartemesia]

The Luna

◐ PART VII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker... implied violence, mentions of blood, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, discussions or ruts, (non-explicit) kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker...

Word Count: 4200

Author’s Note: You have no idea what your support has meant to me. After getting the dreaded Covid it was awhile before I had the energy to work on this. Truly your asks and your messages and comments...they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen and @underthejoon were the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. 

———◐——— 

Fifteen Years Ago...

———◐——— 

“It can’t be-”

“Run for the elders! Quickly! 

“Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

The red smoke was invented by the first wolf known to mate a witch. Legend has it that their bond lent him some of her magic and with it he created a mystical powder that unleashed bloody plumes like knife slashes in the clouds. 

It was a distress call. 

A wolf in danger or in need could throw the powder (usually into their fireplace) and the red smoke would rise - drawing others to their aid. 

No fire was needed and the strange shimmering clouds it produced could even be seen on a moonless night. 

“What happened? Where is the Luna?”

The chief elder was still out of breath, having charged over from his chambers to find Isa in hysterics. 

“She’s gone! Something scared her! It triggered a half-shift!”

His eyes widened in fear and alarm. 

“She’s too young to half-shift. The energy it would take-”

Isa broke into sobs again. 

The girl was only five years old. She and her wolf were too volatile to merge safely. The wolf would be frightened - it would run. 

Eventually the child might regain control, but she would have no way of knowing where she was or how she got there… 

And she would be weak. The effects of the shift were too much for a pup that age. 

The chief elder felt true terror grip his heart. 

“Call for the alphas - immediately!”

Although they were technically one of the oldest bloodlines in the village, Park Clan had only five families to its name - all betas. 

Except for one. 

Park Jimin was the first alpha ever born to the Parks and as such he became the head of his family on the day of his birth - officially the youngest clan leader in history. 

When the call for alphas spread through the village, nine year-old Jimin was roused from his bed to serve on behalf of his people. 

Clan alphas were required to report, regardless of their age. 

“I don’t have to tell any of you what is at stake. Our pack has been entrusted with the Luna’s bloodline. Her safety is our sacred commission.”

The woods were no place for a child. If fluctuating temperatures and possible starvation weren’t bad enough, there were wild bears, packless ferals, rogue witches, snakes, and worst of all-

Unblessed wolves—animals without a human heart. They were by far the most pressing danger to the little girl. 

“Surely young Park can remain at home for this,” Jeon Jinseok pressed. The boy was barely older than his grandson, Jungkook, and he was reluctant to endanger another pup needlessly. 

Some quiet murmurs of assent could be heard around the elder’s chambers, however the chief elder himself shook his head sadly. 

“I understand your concern… but the law is the law. Every clan alpha is sworn to such a task. He took an oath after his first transformation-”

“He was seven-”

“An oath is still an oath.”

All eyes turned to the gentle voice in the corner. The Park alpha looked impossibly small and soft. 

But his gaze burned with determination. 

“It is my right and duty to seek the Luna alongside all of you.” His round little jaw clenched stubbornly. “I’m not afraid.”

The sound of bones and sinew shifting filled the air as one by one the clan alphas fell to their wolf forms and took off into the forest. 

Until only a small silver wolf remained. 

The chief elder sighed. 

The boy would not undergo the Change for another six years. The mental link between his wolf and human forms was not yet complete. It was difficult for information to pass from one to the other. 

“You are the wolf force of Park Jimin.”

After a moment the wolf nodded.

“You were called here because the Luna has gone missing and you must find her if you can. Search the woods until your wolf force can endure no longer and then return. If you find the child, bring her home as soon as possible.”

The young wolf nodded again and then disappeared into the night. 

It was cold. 

The last thing you remembered was a loud noise. It was too close - you panicked-

Then there was heat and pain and running and now this-

Darkness and barren trees looming over you as far as your frightened eyes could see. 

“...Hello?”

Your hands were bleeding. Tears began to slide softly down your cheek as your lips trembled. 

“H-Hello?”

Jimin had never been allowed into the forest alone. A myriad of new shapes and odd smells assaulted his senses as he ran. 

He had only seen you a handful of times. 

Bright silver eyes with a smile that could set even the coldest heart into bloom. 

Now you needed him.

And he was going to save you. 

It was not a question or a matter of chance in his mind. He was meant to find you. It was as if a thread from his chest was bound to a thread from yours and his wolf knew to follow it without question or thought for its significance. 

I’m coming, little Luna. Hold on. 

Your nose was not yet fully developed, but the stench creeping through the air toward you was unmistakable. 

Unblessed. 

A soulless wolf. 

The last time you encountered it was after a hunt. Your father killed one who attacked him and he brought it home for you to scent. 

So you could recognize the smell of danger. 

Gradually two shining eyes emerged from the darkness, yet unlike the wolves of your village, these were dark and fathomless-

Hungry. 

You couldn’t tell much about its age or coloring, it was too thin - too dirty, but the bared teeth and steady progress closer signaled its intent clearly. 

“Please,” you whispered, as it crouched back on its hind legs, preparing to strike. 

Tears blurred your vision as you heard it leap forward. 

But the strike never came. 

Another wolf tackled it to the ground before it could reach you. The two of them tangled viciously in the moonlight; a terrifying mass of snarling and claws. 

The smaller fighter was already bleeding, but he clamped down on his opponent’s throat in the first hit and hung on to it even as the animal snapped and scratched brutally at his skin. 

Jimin could feel his strength beginning to fail him. The pain was excruciating, but he had to endure. If he let go, he was lost- 

You were lost.

So he held. 

And at last the soulless wolf collapsed on top of him. 

For a moment, all was quiet. 

Jimin felt the wounds over his hide begin to tug at the edge of his consciousness. Accelerated healing could only do so much... He was hurt badly. 

Then two small hands began to push at the unblessed corpse. Small huffs and heaves poured from you as you worked to free him from beneath his defeated foe. 

“Don’t be afraid, Silver,” you grunted, “Momma says the healing works best if you can get warm.” 

With one final heave you disposed of the beast as best you could, then moved to wrap your body around your injured champion. 

“I can help,” you whispered, letting the tears fall freely. His soft whimpers were the only reply you received as you snuggled in closer, running your hands gently over the soft fur. 

The young wolf’s eyes were already beginning to lose focus. 

“Please goddess,” you begged into the night. “Please save him.”

Then the two of you drifted into a heavy sleep. 

Jimin opened his eyes again just as the dawn broke. 

He was still in wolf form, but the pain of his injuries had lessened considerably. 

Either that or he was becoming numb. 

His eyes dropped to the figure curled up next to him and his heart stirred. You were so pale… and he could feel your small body shivering violently against his chest.

She will not last much longer...

It took nearly everything he had to stand to his feet and nudge you awake. 

“Will you bring me back, Silver?” you asked weakly. 

Jimin nodded and the two of you stumbled forward into the forest, trusting the vague recollections of his wolf instincts to lead you home. 

Isa was beside herself with worry. Wolves came and went throughout the night-

But there was still no sign of you. 

And the odds of a child surviving the woods alone with no heat and no protection were slim at best. 

Her hands shook as she gathered feed for the horses from the storeroom near the back of the house. She willed herself to complete the task - any task - in an effort to busy her mind and perhaps achieve a moment of respite. 

Her hand closed around the back door handle and she started forward - only to nearly lose her balance over something lying on the porch. 

The bucket of feed dropped from her grasp, sending kernels of grain in all directions. 

Two bodies lay in a heap at her feet, clutching one another desperately. The Luna and her silver wolf were covered in matted blood and dirt. 

But they were alive. 

Isa began to scream, drawing out the other two occupants of the house; her husband Roojin and his younger sister, a beta healer named Ryn. 

“Oh my goddess,” Ryn gasped, “that’s the Park alpha! I heard some of the elders saying that he hadn’t checked in last night!”

“Get them inside. If we don’t act quickly we could lose them.”

Roojin tried to lift you away from the wolf, but the action was enough to rouse you and you immediately began to kick and scream frantically. 

“No! I won’t leave him!” you sobbed, wrapping your body even tighter around the injured pup. “Silver, wake up! Please wake up!”

“Baby you need to let him go! We have to treat him!”

But you were frantic, refusing - violently - to be separated from your rescuer. 

Ryn was eventually forced to grab a syringe from her field kit to sedate you. 

Isa carried your limp body to the fireplace and began to peel off your wet clothes while Ryn and Roojin dealt with Jimin’s injuries in the kitchen. Blood dripped over the tabletop and puddled ominously on the floor while they worked. 

“It looks like he was attacked.” Ryn’s eyes began to water. “What a brave little boy.”

“How the hell did he survive this?”

“I don’t know, but without a healing touch he’ll die.” She ripped her gloves off and rolled up her sleeves. “Stand back.”

Twenty minutes later Isa and Roojin caught the young healer as her legs gave out from under her. She had poured the majority of her energy into restoring the young Park alpha - perhaps more than was strictly safe-

But he would survive and that was all that mattered. 

“I must contact the elders,” Isa murmured as she helped Ryn to a seat near the hearth. “In all the chaos I forgot to tell them that we found her.”

Roojin sighed, letting his eyes drift back to the table. 

“That pup brought her back, but I wonder if they’ll even believe it. I wouldn’t - not if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“No...” Ryn whispered from the chair. “You can’t tell them about the boy.”

“Why not? He’s the only reason she’s still alive. He deserves to be recognized.”

“You don’t understand,” she shook her head weakly. “His clan is nothing. They have no power - no other alphas. This will make him a target. The alpha pups will challenge him and the stronger clans will see him as a threat to their influence…”

She pulled herself upright and limped over to the table where the young wolf slept. 

“But he's just a child….and small for his age at that. He has no powerful clansmen to protect him from the ramifications of this.” 

Her hands clenched to fists. 

“When his human form returns, he won’t remember saving the Luna. We’ll take him to his mother’s home at nightfall - make it seem like he wandered back. He may garner some respect for surviving the woods, but then they’ll leave him alone… and he can go on living his life in peace.”

Ryn turned to face them both with a determined expression. 

“We owe him that.”

“Where is the silver wolf? Where have you taken him?”

As soon as the sedative wore off you reached for the boy once again, only to find that he was gone. 

“The silver wolf was hurt very badly, sweetheart. Your aunt carried him away to be treated.”

“I have to go with him! He needs me!”

“No, honey - you can’t-”

Isa pulled you into her arms and you collapsed into helpless sobs. The last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with you. 

You were too weak to fight back. 

“Luna… the silver wolf is in danger. Are you willing to keep him safe?”

You nodded fiercely, letting the flow of your tears soak through your mother’s sleeves. 

“Then you must never tell another soul that the silver wolf saved you. No one can know that he was with you in the forest.”

Your eyes narrowed in confusion. 

“But-”

“You will tell everyone that you found the way back alone. Do not mention the silver wolf.”

Isa lifted your chin till your eyes met hers. 

“Promise me, Luna.”

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you thought of your champion. He had spared you from a gruesome fate and you did not even know his name. 

You wanted so desperately to thank him. 

Last night, you were so cold - so afraid - that you hadn’t said it...

Now you never could. 

So instead you would protect him - no matter what it cost. 

“I promise.”

———◐——— 

Today...

———◐———  

“I don’t like him.”

Jimin tilted his head slightly toward his best friend.

“Who?”

Taehyung took a long sip of water then moved his hand to cover his mouth. To an outside observer he would appear to be wiping excess liquid from his lips. 

“The senior envoy from the Iron Claw pack.” He shook his head. “Something about him is off. He’s ill at ease.”

All the major packs of the mountain nations dispatched representatives to greet and solidify their relations with the new Alpha. 

Any pack who failed to send a proper delegation risked a diplomatic incident. 

The first twenty-four hours held great significance when it came to the transfer of power. The official term for the tradition-packed period between the revelation of the Alpha and his ultimate reunion with the Luna was called “The King’s New Moon.”

The new moon was the darkest phase of the lunar cycle and the immediate separation from his mate was meant to be a test of the Alpha’s restraint and bearing. 

Jimin wanted to put his fist through a wall. 

He missed you. 

Fighting Namjoon was nothing compared to the torture of this bureaucratic circus.

As the day progressed he was extremely grateful to have Yoongi and Taehyung at his side. Yoongi agreed to act as interim Praetor while Namjoon recovered and he and Taehyung were quick to fill in any knowledge gaps Jimin had with regards to protocol. 

The first round of ceremonial greetings between packs dragged on more than an hour before the bell struck for a brief recess. In fact, until Taehyung’s rather strange pronouncement, nearly every moment played out with boring predictability.

Though there was one notable surprise. 

Apparently the Iron Claw pack had just undergone a change of leadership and was now under the command of a female alpha named Azira Kai. 

Authority in the Iron Claw pack was traditionally decided through combat, and Azira beat nearly thirty-five challengers to ascend as queen. 

Female alphas were extraordinarily rare. Jimin knew they existed, but Azira was the first one he’d ever heard of. 

Iron Claw’s senior envoy delivered the news himself at the start of the ceremony and personally conveyed the queen’s well wishes. 

Jimin eyed the representative in question speculatively from his corner of the table. At first glance the man seemed much like every other emissary gathered in the crowded hall to fulfil centuries old obligations. But Taehyung had always possessed a strange sense about people. 

His instincts could not be easily dismissed. 

“I will keep that in mind,” he whispered as he sent the young man a courteous nod.

The sun had already begun to set when a messenger from the chief elder’s chambers arrived at your door. At long last the ceremonial requirements were drawing to a close and soon the elder’s council would be sending you instructions.

However...‘soon’ could mean anything from twenty minutes to five hours. 

“You might as well rest while you can,” Jin teased with a salacious wiggle of his brows. “Who knows what strenuous activity you might find yourself involved in when they finally let that boy loose.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to pretend that your cheeks weren’t burning with embarrassment. 

“I will rest, but not for any reason you’re thinking.”

Truth be told, your nerves were a bit… frayed. 

A frustration was building within you and nothing seemed to satisfy it. You weren’t even sure what you were wanting, but you definitely wanted it. 

“Of course not,” your cousin chuckled as you gathered your gloves and wandered back to the bedroom. 

An hour later Jin’s boredom found him snuggled up on the couch near the fireplace reading over an old cookbook from your mother’s pantry.

“Heavens… no wonder Aunt Isa’s kimchi is so dry. This is a disgrace.”

Suddenly the front door began to shake and pound violently. Strange smells carried through the air and his eyes widened. 

Foreign wolves. 

He drew in a deep breath and immediately growled in frustration. 

Foreign alphas.

A small bowl of red powder sat on the mantle above the hearth. Jin just barely managed to toss it into the flames before the door splintered off its hinges. 

“Hello boys,” he drawled, unleashing a massive dose of pheromones while the knives strapped to his forearms slid smoothly to his hands. “What brings you here?”

“I just heard the strangest news,” Min Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the small scrap of paper passed to him by one of the council aides. 

“Oh?”

The next set of guild masters were making their way to Jimin at a snail’s pace. It would be several seconds before he needed to greet them. 

“One of the healers sent word that Namjoon has disappeared from his assigned recovery room.” He shook his head curiously. “Where do you suppose he’s gone?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. 

That mangy mutt. He’s probably bent Yunli over every surface of her brother’s house by now. Goddess above! He couldn’t hold out for six more days? 

“I’m sure I have no idea.”

I should have killed him. This is a disaster. He can barely walk, how does he expect to-

“The Miner’s Guild is honored to serve at the pleasure of the Alpha.”

Jimin nodded regally and forced up a pleasant smile. 

“The honor is entirely mine, Master Lee. I look forward to-”

A loud crash split the solemn hush of the room as a young member of the council guard burst through the heavy wooden doors. 

“Red smoke! Red smoke rises from the Luna’s hearth!”

Jimin felt his heart plummet into his stomach. 

Chaos erupted immediately. 

“Call for the guards!”

“We must notify the healers.”

“The messengers just spoke to her-”

“Is it an attack?”

“ENOUGH!”

The Alpha’s voice cut across the assembly with authoritative resonance. 

Every eye turned to him in expectation. 

But he could only think of you. 

“Jung, lock the building down. Take your clansmen and seal off every entrance.”

Murmurs began to stir through the hall as Hoseok directed his people toward the access points, but he ignored them. 

“Choi. Make for the healers. Have a dozen of them meet us there.”

Jimin was already heading for the door. The deadly length of his claws flashed ominously in the firelight. 

“Kim, Min, Jeon - with me.”

The three alphas in question fell in step behind him without a word. 

The scene at the Luna’s home was nightmarish. 

Jimin ran to your room immediately, but all he found was a broken window and the lingering scent of your fear. 

His wolf howled in anguish as he fell to his knees and screamed in rage. 

At the front of the house four badly beaten bodies lay strewn about the kitchen and living room area. Most of the furniture was destroyed and the scent of carnage soaked the air. 

“Jin!”

The omega stood at the center of the rubble. There was a nasty slash running up his right leg and another grievous wound near his ribs. 

But his arms were wrapped around a massive foriegn wolf with the thin blade of his favorite knife pressed against the intruders throat. 

“What happened here?” Yoongi gasped. “And that smell-” he moved his hand to cover his nose. 

“Pheromones,” Taehyung nearly gagged. 

His eyes fell to the corpses - examining their injuries with a critical gaze. 

“Jin, you dangerous bastard.”

The omega simply smiled and forced the prisoner onto his knees. 

“I don’t understand…” Jungkook shook his head. 

“He flooded them with omega pheromones... These four were unmated.” The Kim alpha let out a cold chuckle. “He triggered their ruts… and they killed each other over him.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. 

Male omegas really were terrifying.

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed and he considered the scene. 

“None of this makes sense. The scent markers are clearly from the Iron Claw pack. They didn’t even bother to mask…”

Jungkook and Yoongi began to search the bodies for any hint of their motives or identity when Jimin returned from your room. His fury was palpable in the air around him. 

“Why would anyone kidnap a Luna?” he snarled. “The divine bloodline is sacred to all wolves. Who would be so reckless?”

Jin shook his head.

“I don’t know.” His knife twisted into the prisoner’s neck. “But he does.”

Jimin crouched down in front of the foreigner, fighting every urge in his soul to tear the mountains apart for his mate.  

“Where is she?”

The prisoner sneered.

“You may be a powerful Alpha, but you are not of my pack or my blood.  I’ll never tell you anything.”

“Oh,” Jimin’s eyes flashed with golden fire, “I think you will.” 

Heavy. 

That was how you felt. 

Your body was sore (like it had been tossed and carried a long distance) and your mind was out of focus (as if everything around you was moving either too quickly or too slowly - honestly you couldn’t quite tell).

You remembered being drugged; some sort of compound pressed against your nose and mouth.  

Glass from the window shattered onto your face…

Then unfamiliar scents and unfamiliar hands closed in on all sides. 

Too fast for you to react.

Too shocking for anyone to have predicted. 

Nothing like this had ever happened and there was no reason to believe it would. 

To harm a Luna was sacrilege. 

It was simply not done. 

What could drive men to such a course of action? 

You should be afraid; terrified even.  

But you weren’t.

Your eyes fluttered open to take your new surroundings. You could vaguely see the shape of seven or eight wolves - alphas by the smell of them-

And then you smiled. 

It wasn’t your usual impish grin or anything close to soft or inviting. 

It was a cold twist that crept over your lips as you watched your abductors set up their camp. 

After a moment, one of them noticed your strange expression. 

“Looks like the little Luna hit her head on the way here,” he called out to his comrades with an amused snort. “You should have been more careful with her, Mac.”

He shook his head and made his way over to where you were tied up. The young alpha reeked so heavily of sweat and self-importance, you almost gagged. 

“What’s got you so amused, Miss Luna?”

It was more of a taunt than a question, but your smile widened nonetheless. 

“My mate is going to kill you.” 

Shock flickered over his features for just a second before he threw his head back and laughed. 

“We’ll be long gone before your sweet little alpha even knows we’re here.” He gripped your chin between his fingers and you snarled. “We masked our scent as soon as we got you - and there isn’t a wolf alive that could track our crew through the woods.”

“You’re wrong,” you whispered. 

Jimin’s face flashed through your mind - followed immediately by another memory, buried deeply, but never forgotten—

of a frightened little girl and the silver wolf who braved the forest and fought a monster to save her. 

“He’ll come for me - no matter what precautions you’ve taken.” You leaned forward a bit, letting the conviction in your gaze blaze through to the depths of your captor’s soul. “And then - he’ll come for you.” 

If you are already in the taglist, then I will automatically tag you for the next part! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know.

And also please tell me what you thought of this update! I am really excited to hear your thoughts! (I know it was kind of unexpected right?) Feedback really does fuel my writing and hearing from you means a lot to me! On days that its hard to write, I go back and I read your lovely words and it makes me want to keep going! I cannot overstate its value in my heart! 

#park jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bts #bts jimin #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin series #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbts #btscreatorscorner #kwritersworldnet #bangtanidx #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #the alpha #jimin x reader

[lokiarc64]

Jaune’s Vibranium Shield AU: “Still Standing” (Knightshade)

Both Teams JNPR & RWBY where sent out on a mission together to exterminate a hoard of large Grimm Salamanders and Death Stalkers that where threatening a village, as they land into the Village Jaune being the best of leading a team he was appointed the group leader for the mission for his tactics and strategy intelligence.

Seeing the outcome of the village and what it’s been through, he then decided split into four groups of two everyone got together and he was then paired with Blake and then soon they all split up and made the groups search around for Grimm while he and Blake decided to search the forest, while looking around Blake began to talk with Jaune and admire the craftsmanship and dedication he did for his new shield.

As she and Jaune spoke for a bit she suddenly began to imagine him back in the Blacksmith’s classroom shirtless, all hot and sweaty, and covered in soot and scars from sparing, and watching him just work while looking like a greek god, as she was distracted she didn’t even notice the danger coming from behind her, a medium sized Grimm Dragon the size of a Elephant was roaring at her and was about to attack her with a large blast of fire, she looked behind her as she soon noticed and realized, she might not make it, and as soon as she knew it, the dragon unleashed its blazing might.

Suddenly to Blakes surprise, nothing happened she felt the blazing, burning and scorching heat of the Dragon, but as she looked towards it, she only saw the back of Jaune’s Armor and sees him using his shield to protect her, but despite his shield saving them both the shield was absorbing the heat of the dragons power and burning Jaune’s arm, as the dragon then stopped unleashing its fiery might, Jaune then began to attach the dragon taking many hits from the dragon and getting cut and burned he used his shield to stop the Dragon, by throwing and slamming the Dragon with it, and once it was dazed and dizzy he managed to use his word to send the final blow killing the dragon on the spot.

Blake was in Aw….she always imagined Jaune as a dorky knight…….but she saw him as he was….a White Knight in shining armor…her Hero.

After the battle he fell down exhausted and tired from the fight, Blake managed to stay with him and called for support and back up for a medical bullhead, and once she gets back to beacon she plans to thank him along with the rest of Team RWBY for saving her.

“Destroyed Village“

Jaune: Alright we don’t know if there are still any Grimm or survivors so I say we split up into four groups.

Jaune: Ruby, you go with Pyrrha.

Ruby: Sweet.

Pyrrha: I’m eager to be working with you.

Jaune: Weiss your with Ren.

Weiss: Thankfully Im not with a complete dunce.

Jaune: And Nora is with Yang.

Yang: Aw Yeah.

Nora: High Five.

Yang & Nora: 🙌

Jaune: That just leaves you Blake with me.

Blake: If you say so.

Jaune: Alright you guys let’s fan out and see what we can find.

“Forest”

Jaune: Man this place sure looks creepy.

Blake: “Looking at Jaune’s shield”

Blake: So hows the new shield.

Jaune: Its very different then what I’m used to but also similar if that makes sense.

Blake: Well I think it’s a good look for you.

Jaune: Heh, thanks.

Jaune: Frankly I didn’t expect this to come out so well when I showed the schematics to my dad‘s friend I was worried that the whole thing would be difficult to make.

Jaune: But thankfully this new metal worked like a charm, the hours and days I put into making this thing was difficult for the most part-

Blake: Uh Huh.

Blake: “Thinks back to Jaune in the blacksmith’s classroom”

Jaune: “Sweating through shirt”

Jaune: “Wipes sweat from head”

Jaune: “Continues to work on shield”

Blake: “Starts to blush”

Blake: What I wouldn’t do to him.

Blake: He has the body of god.

Blake: “Bites Lips”

“Loud Stomp”

Jaune: Blake, what was that?

Blake: “Daydreaming“

Dragon Grimm: “Appears behind Jaune & Blake”

Dragon Grimm: “Roaring“

Jaune: HOLY CRAP IS THAT A DRAGON!!!

Dragon Grimm: “Charges fire breath”

Jaune: Blake, Run!

Jaune: “Runs”

Blake: “Snaps out of thought“

Blake: Huh, did you say something Jaune?

Grimm Dragon: “Shoots Fire”

Blake: Ahhhh.

Blake: “Flinches & Closes Eyes”

Blake: Huh?

Blake: “Opens Eyes”

Jaune: “Blocking Fire with shield”

Jaune: Blake, Move!

Blake: “Nods Head”

Blake: “Moves out of the way”

Jaune: Ahhh, My arm.

Jaune: “Aura Flashes”

Blake: “On top of tree”

Blake: Gambol Shroud wont be able to do too much damage against that.

Dragon Grimm: “Shoots secondary fire blast”

Jaune: “Jumps to the side, dodging the attack”

Jaune: “Throws shield at dragon Grimm”

“Shield hits the right dragon‘s eye”

“Shield returns to Jaune’s hand”

Blake: “Staring at Jaune standing his ground”

Dragon Grimm: “Charges at Jaune”

Jaune: “Holds up shield”

Dragon Grimm: “Rams Into Jaune”

Jaune: “Hits tree on impact”

Jaune: “Gets Up”

Jaune: “Aura Flashes”

Blake: He’s doing it, Jaune’s really fighting a dragon.

Dragon Grimm: “Charges another fire attack”

Jaune: “Runs to the side”

Dragon Grimm: “Shoots fire breath”

Jaune: “Dodges Attack”

Dragon Grimm: “Continuously shoots fire at Jaune”

Jaune: “Slides beneath fire breath”

Jaune: “Jumps away from fire breath”

Jaune: “Uses shield to block fire”

Dragon Grimm: “Charges at Jaune”

Jaune: “Jumps to the side, dodging the dragon”

Dragon Grimm: “Hits tree with head”

Dragon Grimm: “Dizzy upon impact”

Jaune: Nows my chance.

Jaune: “Climbs up dragons tail”

Jaune: “Grabs sword from his back”

Jaune: “Stabs the dragon‘s neck”

Dragon Grimm: “Roars in pain”

Dragon Grimm: “Swings head around”

Jaune: “Hanging on with sword still stabbed in neck”

Jaune: “Jumps off the neck landing on the dragon’s face”

Jaune: “Stabs the dragon’s left eye”

Dragon Grimm: “Roars in pain”

Dragon Grimm: “Attempts to shake Jaune off”

Jaune: “Falls off dragon”

Jaune: “Throws shield on the ground”

Jaune: “Jumps off shield & lands on the ground”

Blake: Nice Recovery.

Dragon Grimm: “Blindly shoots fire”

Jaune: This is gonna end one way or another.

Jaune: “Charges at dragon grimm“

Jaune: “Continuously throws shield at dragon”

Dragon Grimm: “Charges to direction shield hit it”

Jaune: “Jumps on the dragon’s head”

Jaune: “Enforces his shield with aura”

Jaune: “Slams the top of the dragon’s head with shield”

Dragon Grimm: “Falls to the ground”

Jaune: “Falls toward the dragon”

Jaune: “Grabs Sword”

Jaune: “Stabs the dragon‘s head as far as possible”

Dragon: “Roars one final time before collapsing completely“

Blake: The whole knight look is more meaningful then ever before.

Jaune: “Catches his breath”

Jaune: “Pulls sword out of dragon’s head”

Jaune: “Gets off dragon”

Jaune: “Leans on tree”

Blake: Jaune, are you okay?

Jaune: Yeah, but I think I’m done for today.

Blake: Get as much rest as you can I’ll call in support.

Jaune: Thank you Blake.

Blake: No.

Blake: “Kisses Jaune’s forehead“

Blake: Thank You.

#Rwby #jaune arc #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #ruby rose #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #weiss schnee #knightshade #ask & answer #Vibranium Shield au

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air.  And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you.  In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right.  The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face.  "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face.  "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."

#loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel fluff #marvel smut #mcu fluff #mcu smut #fluff #smut #fanfic #loki fanfic #loki series #into the thick of it #taris1kchallenge #tarithenurse

[duskwood-legacies]

"Your Armageddon"

•Fandom: Duskwood

⚠️->Episodes 5-8 Spoiler!

•Pairing/Character: MC, MWAF (Micheal)

•Word Count: 1.1k

•Genre: Angst

•Trigger Warnings: brief mention of blood and self-hatred, mentions of death

•Summary: MC stands face to face with the place responsible for the legend that calls itself the avenger of sins. Turns out, she was just the final pawn in the MWAF’s wicked game.

-----

Fog strangled the forests of Duskwood in a thick grey, forbidding to let anyone gaze farther than their arms could reach. Wind forced branches to collide, wind that soon swirled into a cruel storm to leave nothing but heartless destruction in its path.

As the world seemed to be taken away by Armageddon, I stood with my feet like rooted to the ground. The raven carved into the wood was almost shielded from my vision. Almost.

“Our origin. It lies here.” A raspy, sand-paper like voice taunted my mind from behind. The unnerving sound chased the hairs on my arms and neck upwards, nausea creeping into my throat.

“Is that why you brought me here, Micheal?” My own heartbeat nearly deafened me.

“Do not call me by my name.”

I shivered as I captured the calm tone inside his words. People possessing such calmness within such madness. They were dangerous. By far beyond dangerous. Rain crashed down like cascades, perfecting the chaos menacing around us, flooding homes of animals and drowning out hopes.

“We are one.” Micheal spoke.

“We…?”

“We. Every Man Without A Face before me, every Man Without A Face to follow after me. We share the same memories of your sins, we share the same curse.” Micheal’s voice darkened with each word spoken.

“But— But this is just a legend-“

“Naive girl.” His calmness began to fade away into the depths of hatred.  “We are bound to this universe. We are the avengers for your sins. We are the justice. We are the misunderstood!”

I winced at the sudden loudening of his words. My veins pulsated with hot blood run cold, thoughts going numb with each passing dulled second. My airways tightened with an invisible rope swung around my neck.

“Ask MC.” Micheal’s voice bore into me “Ask. Ask! Ask what’s been haunting you!”

“Why?!” I shouted “Why Hannah?! Why Richy?! Why YOU?!”

I couldn’t see him, but I knew, I felt it. The sickening grin of success, securely hidden under his mask burned on my back, ill sensations diving into my spine.

“Jennifer!” Micheal pressed out, pained inside his neglected soul, relieved to say her name again. “Her death brought this curse upon me! Hannah and Richy watched her life cease from this world! They left her to die, allowed her murderer to run free!”

“They were only kids!” My shout matched a screech.

“Death knows no age!” A tree crashed into the ground behind us. The ominous loud thump hunted ravens out of their shelter, towards the one and only person their loyalty belongs to. My arms flung up and crossed in front of my head to protect my face. Micheal’s furious voice kept burning its way into my brain.

“Her death tore my life apart! Her death allowed the curse to seep into my cracked soul!”

“How is that possible?” I tried to mask my fright with half-hearted compassion.

“You don’t understand?! We were emotionally bound the strongest to those who fell victim to the cruelest of sins! We avenge our loved ones and protect those who can’t protect themselves!”

“By robbing lives?! You are committing sins yourself!”

“That is why we are the victims of our successors. This curse is Duskwood’s hell circle.”

Tears edged my eyes. Memories I couldn’t repress longer found their way back to torture my consciousness. The storm howled louder as the trees whipped into all directions with immeasurable violence. My knees started to feel light under the hectic of the unforgiving insanity those gone-by moments brought back to me.

“Do you feel the sting? The burn? The pain under your skin?” Micheal’s voice mixed psychopathy and lunacy as well as calmness and peace. With a weak spark of agitated success. “Do you hear their voices? Do you see their faces pleading you for help? Do you run from the guilt your sins have brought you? Do you see what monster you encouraged me to become?”

Thunder boomed through the fighting trees. I cried out in despair, broke under the suspense and agony he put me under as I bailed down onto my knees. My hands covered my ears, praying I’d somehow be able to shut his voice out before they reach my brain.

The sweet feelings of his achievement soothed Micheal’s wrath. His mind cleared as he saw his goal unfold in front of him like a dahlia in July.

The sound of branches breaking mixed with the loudness of rain, storm and thunder, becoming clearer and clearer the more Micheal stalked closer to me. I clutched my hands around my ears, with an intensity strong enough to make me hurt myself.

Micheal crouched down behind me. One of his hands grabbed my wrist and moved it away from my ear, easily fighting against the resistance I had attempted put up.

“Answer me, MC.”

I did. Day by day I ran from myself, hated when I saw my reflection, punched a mirror to shatters and watched my knuckles bleed until I could walk again. Every day the images of Richy would restrain my mind with shackles, guilt and helplessness charging and tackling me down the second the image unlocked their door.

“Crying. The silence of the sinners.” Micheal hummed. I didn’t notice I started sobbing.

“You mentioned Hannah and Richy… why me… why are you after me?”

“You have helped murderers. You willingly put people in danger for your own goals. You are powerfully bound to someone who has Duskwood’s blood inside their veins. You are the perfect victim. You are the final sin to separate me from my curse.”

My head pounded with distress. I pleaded for everything to be a nightmare, for the cold of the rain on my skin to be imagined, for the thunder in the sky to be a loud neighbor cutting into my dreams, for the storm to be a mask of my guilt.

The sentences resonated in my mind, bouncing and leaving a dull ache everywhere they touched my being. My parents weren’t from Duskwood. Neither of them had connections to the forgotten village within the lost forest.

My eyes went wide and a sudden inhale filled my lungs as realization came to me.

Jake.

Micheal yanked my head upward by my hair. A thunderbolt struck the tree in half, the spot scared with the raven splitting into two. Merciless heat of fire graced against my freezing skin, a high-pitched ringing consuming my ears. A cold metal blade pressed against my throat as I felt Micheal get closer to my ear one last time.

“This is your Armageddon, MC.”

-----

A/N: Hi!💕 This post was rather unplanned since I didn't want to post too much Angst, but I've had this idea for a while now and reading the story of @neptunee has given me so much motivation, I couldn't resist🤭🌿 I hope the stories don't share too much similarities, I promise if anything appears copied I didn't do it on full on purpose!

#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood mc #duskwood player #duskwood mwaf #duskwood mc x mwaf #everbyte studio

[certifiedskywalker]

Dangerous - Geralt of Rivia

Anonymous said: Hi! Will you write something with Geralt pushing reader away, because he doesn't want her to get hurt? ♥♥♥

AN: I’ve missed writing for (Netflix show) Geralt! I hope I did him justice!

“Jaskier, have you seen him?”

“Who?” The bard’s eyes were not even on you as he asked. Heldin, the local barkeep had his full attention as she poured him a glass of amber liquid.

“Geralt,” you said with a sigh. “Who else?”

“Of course, you and your big, gruff-” Jaskier met your gaze as he spoke. Upon seeing your face and the displeased expression that rested there, he shut up. “He’s outside, walking Roach to the stream.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “enjoy your drink.”

“Oh, I will,” he drawled, turning back to Heldin. “And the company.”

You shot Heldin a sympathetic glance before making your way out of the inn. Music echoed within the walls as the townsfolk celebrated their new freedom. The flock of farmers and the idle hunters that made up the village would no longer fret over the threat of the cockatrice. Geralt had cleared out the lot of them and now all took up with merry.

All except for the Witcher. 

When you stepped outside, you noticed that night had started to fall. Orange-grays of dusk claimed the sky, replacing the soft blue hues that you last remember seeing. How long had you been inside? You had lost sight of Geralt near an hour ago. Time had slipped by while you chatted with the locals and listened to Jaksier’s new song. 

Crisp and nearing cold, the air kissed at your cheeks. You were half tempted to go back inside and warm yourself with a drink by the fire. Geralt would come back, maybe. You could talk to him then about what happened today.

Yet, you knew better than to draw this out. There was tension and Geralt would ignore it forever if you gave him the chance. Neither of you had forever, especially you, being human. With Geralt’s line of work, time was always in danger of running short. You didn’t want to miss anything, even if that meant getting your heartbroken a little.

Nervously, you strode down the cobbled streets towards the edge of the village. The forest loomed in the darkness but you knew that the path past the underbrush would lead you safely to the stream. You and Geralt had scoped out the area the day before while tracking the group of cockatrice that had taken up nearby. Easily, you make your way towards the water. When you get closer, you pick up on Geralt’s voice. 

“I have never felt quite so...helpless before. Yet, I don’t want the feeling to go.”

Before Geralt could go on, you made your presence know. As much as you wanted to know what, or who, he was talking about, it felt wrong to listen in. So, you stepped out of the bushes and cleared your throat. 

“How is he?”

“Sturdy, no worse than the rest of us.” There was a jilt in Geralt’s tone that made your frown. His voice, normally warm when addressing you, was laced with a chill. In an attempt to ignore it, you pulled your cloak a bit tighter around your shoulders.

“Some of us are great,” you replied, “Jaskier is still pestering the innkeeper.”

“Hmm,” Geralt stood as he grunted, bucket in hand. After a pace, he knelt beside the stream and you moved within the little camp he had made. From the looks of it, the fire, the bedroll, the half-eaten meal, Geralt had no intentions of returning to the inn.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m alive.” Geralt turned back, setting the bucket before Roach. He then saw you taking in his camp. “It’s a nice night. I would rather sleep out here.”

“You’re not cold?” You countered, subconsciously tugging your cloak even closer. Geralt sighed, his amber eyes never leaving your form. Silence, however swift fell over you.

This pause gave you a moment to take him in. Without his armor on, he looked softer. Strong arms were out and the dark shirt he wore hugged him better than his usual leather wears. His silver hair was a bit ratted up from combat and linger bits of grime clung to him still. He looked beautiful to you, unyielding.

“You are. You should stay close to the fire.” Geralt reached down towards his things and pulled out a thick blanket. “And take this.”

He stepped towards you, the closest he had gotten to you since earlier in the day. You could feel the warmth of his body emanating out as he tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was just the kind thing to do. Geralt meant nothing by it, you told yourself. Though, recently, it was becoming more difficult to tell what Geralt meant by the things he did.

You stepped closer to the fire, savoring the new warmth around you. Geralt walked back towards Roach to pick a leaf out of his mane. Silence rooted between the two of you once more. Left unchecked, it would grow into a hungry beast, looking to eat you alive. You could not cower in the fear, in the quiet.

“Geralt, we should talk about what happened.”

The Witcher turned away from his steed but did not meet your eyes. Only the side of his face was clear to you, casted in the glow of flame. 

“You nearly died.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yes, nearly, but that’s not all that hap-”

“You should stay behind, here, to rest.”

Shocked, every thought you had left your head. “What?”

“This work is dangerous,” he continued, “especially for someone not as...trained. Today proved that to be true.” Slightly offended, you shifted on your feet and stepped closer to Geralt.

“I feel that today proved many things.” At your words, the Witcher finally met your eyes. You could see the twinge of fear in them, though it quickly faded away. 

“It proved that you need to step away,” Geralt pressed. He was standing a meter away from you now. The fire, to your right, was starting to burn out. Despite the dying of the light, you could still see Geralt’s eyes. 

“Why? Life is dangerous no matter what you do or where you go. I would just be leaving you and I don’t wish to do that.” Geralt took a another step and, with the proximity, you could feel his heated anger against your skin. “I don’t believe you want that either.”

“I am dangerous,” he snapped. You furrowed your brows at him. Never before had he been so upset with you. The sight made your chest ache. “You would be safer without me.”

“Safer? I would have died today if you were not there.” 

Geralt shook his head before explaining, “you would have not been there if it were not for me. Do you not see that?”

“I was there because I wanted to be,” you fired back. Desperate for some comfort, you pulled the blanket more snugly around your shoulders. Tear were welling up in your eyes but you forced them back. “I want to be with you.”

Geralt’s posture faltered just as you realized what you had said. It was out there now, floating, like a falling leaf to the forest floor, between you. You bit your lip to keep yourself from speaking anymore. Though, you were not entirely sure that anything else you say would make things better or worse. Geralt’s eyes were downcast; he could not bring himself to look at you.

“How do you think this ends?” With a large hand, Geralt gestures between you.

Sniffling, you shrugged. “How all things end, eventually.”

“We die,” Geralt agrees, lifting his gaze to meet yours. “We die, possibly tomorrow, in ten cycles, or even tonight. You want to live like that?”

“I already have been living like that,” you said softly. Daringly, you stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you and the Witcher. “You make it worth it.”

Geralt seemed to flinch at your words. “Y/N, please.”

“Tell me you don’t feel that same,” you insisted. “Tell me that today meant nothing, Geralt. Tell me that you made a mistake, that you shouldn’t have kissed m-”

Before you could finish, Geralt’s lips were on yours. His hands were pulling you by the hips until your body was flush with his. Renewed and stronger than before, warmth flooded your senses. Sweat and dirt and hints of ale hit your nose; but it felt like home. He kissed you like he did when death nearly claimed you: fast but gentle.

Then, suddenly, Geralt pulled away. Half-lidden, his amber eyes drank in your expression. You imagined you looked as hazy as he did. Lips were kiss-swollen, chests heaving, and there was the want for more. 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he murmured lowly. “It was the first thing I ever did right.”

Smiling, you pressed your hands to Geralt’s broad chest. “Then let me stay.”

Geralt pressed his lips together as he thought. Watchful but kind, his eyes never left yours. One of his hands moved up your side, your arm, to rest against your cheek. There, his thumb rubbed carefully along your skin as if he were scared to break you. Sensing his turmoil, you reached your own hand up to hold his.

“I want to spend what time I have here with you, no matter the danger.”

Without waiting for a reply, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his once more. Geralt seemed to melt at the touch and turned the tender kiss into a more bruising one. His grip on you tightened and you knew that he was not going to let you go just yet.

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt imagines #geralt fanfic #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagines #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #the witcher x reader

[troublesometrollhunters]

Yandere Skrael ❄

(I really have no excuse for this Idk I like him leave me alone in my hellhole of minor characters I fall for)

~ Mortals are fleeting creatures. They arrive on earth they squabble, they beg, they do pathetic things, then they die. That's just how it is. But you, your different. You have to be to catch his eye.

~ Skrael feels warm around you. Something that shouldn't be possible considering he was created by the magic of the North Winds and yet when he sees you he feels his immortal soul twinge. Something in him changes and he likes that change.

~ You're human. Your life has amounted to almost nothing but your happy with it. However Skrael is not happy. You make him feel warm. Joyous. He's never felt warmth and his joy is often sadistic and comes from torturing mortals or causing choas with Bellroc. You're going to die and this happiness he's discovered will be gone.

~ Speaking of Belloc they don't approve but Skrael has noticed that when he's busy they'll keep an eye on you and he's eternally grateful. His siblings in magic soon gain an interest in you too. It's not like his which boarders on possessive but rather their curious. You're HIS human and they understand this so he's unconcerned of their interest. After all your practically family now.

~ One night while you sleep, such a silly mortal thing. He picks you up cradling you close. You shiver air coming out in white puffs and he pauses. You are mortal. Fragile. And sadly effected deeply by his cold. Holding you in your sleep could prove dangerous so he has to place you down back into your bed furs. Bellroc burns with the heat of a thousand fires but at least they're warmth is good for humans. As Bellroc picks you up you sleep soundly much to Skraels relief. He was prepared to freeze the whole village if you refused to come with him but now no one will suffer and you will live in eternal bliss.

~ Nari is ecstatic to meet you. You're terrified and confused when you wake to this green fae in your face but they're to excited to notice. Heart racing as you lookinh around confused Nari's tail swishes as they bombard you in questions. Skrael is a bit mad as they wanted to be the first you saw when you woke in your new home but Skrael can't get mad at Nari. Skrael's excited your here with them too.

~ You try to run looking for an entrance but Skrael simply floats in front of you to block your path. The ground becomes icy and as you trip they catch you. Blue eyes burning as they gently push the hair out of your face. Skrael introcudes himself with a gentle voice as he strokes your cheek.

~ He pauses when you become visibly confused. You have no idea who he is. That lowkey pisses Skrael off but they can work with it. They'll work with it.

~ Skrael introduces his family. Nari and Bellroc. They are kind to you and he is happy everyone's getting along. You seem uncomfortable eyes constantly darting around and Skrael had a feeling if you could you'd run. Pouting they gently squeeze your shoulder. There's no reason to be afraid or scared.

~ If you didn't like Winter before that sucks because Skrael is determined to make you love it. Snow and ice is their craft and Skrael will make you come to love it. They show you the beautiful side of winter. The quiet snowfall, the still forest, lakes frozen over, gentle frost, crunching snow that echoes for miles. Skrael is excited to show you all of it and show off his talents.

~ It was all so lonely before but with you he feels inspiration. Skrael makes delicate frost patterns for your enjoyment and takes you far away from people. Somewhere beautiful where you two can iceskate in peace. If you don't know how to Skrael enjoys teaching you, helping you glide over the smooth ice he made for you.

~ They spoil you. You are given riches beyond your wildest imgination, extravagant gifts, fancy clothes, and are treated better than most royalty. Only the best for Skrael's partner. Nari loves growing you flowers and enjoys the way your face lights up when she shows her magic. Bellroc likes to entertain creating a shower of sparks or making the fire dance for you. And Skrael? They give you everything. They're love. They're devotion. Even a little of their power. In secret they make you have a mages life span so you may never die on them. They just love you so much you can't fade away on them.

~ Skrael has studied mortals extensively. He knows of their need for food and water. Skrael's family gives you only the finest. You're their pride and joy now. Cooked meats you could never afford in your old life, fresh fruits from across the world, hearty vegetables. None of them can cook but with magic they can summon or make anything. If you ask you shall receive.

~ It's a semi lonely life only having Skrael, Bellroc, and Nari to talk to but Skrael does everything in their power to make you as happy as you make them. Skrael truly loves you as much as someone like them can.

~ Skrael can't stand it when you mention your old life or friends. When you suggest leaving. Hundreds of years have passed and Skrael and the others take care to not let you know this. Sometimes Skrael considers telling you the truth just to make you see their your only option but your happiness means everything to them. The family stays with you while Skrael cools off.

~ All in all it's not a terrible situation. Skrael has never hurt you. Not on purpose at least and The Arcane Order is very kind to you. Nari with their never ending affection and stories and Bellroc with their warm hugs and soothing voice. It's not an entirely healthy situation as you had no choice but it's not terrible either. It'd be best to just give into Skraels affections and let the Arcane Order love you.

#yandere wizards #yandere arcane order #yandere skrael #skrael #skrael x reader #skrael of the north wind #wizards x reader #nari #nari x reader #bellroc #bellroc x reader #wizards skrael #wizards nari #wizards bellroc #yandere nari #yandere bellroc #yandere nari x reader #yandere bellroc x reader #wizards skrael x reader #wizards nari x reader #wizards bellroc x reader #yandere wizards skrael x reader #yandere wizards nari x reader #yandere wizards bellroc x reader #yandere toa #toa x reader

[philliamwrites]

killing me softly with his song | (Childe / Reader) [chpt.1]

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairing: Childe / Reader

Tags: #fem!reader, #from childhood friends to lovers, #reader is a fatui agent, #slow burn, #unresolved sexual tension, #mature language, #forbidden love

Words: 2k

Summary: "Lybuov zla, polyubish i kozla," sighs your sister as she wipes off the table, but that makes you feel even more miserable. Falling for a goat might save you from an actual heartbreak by Tartaglia's hands.

____________

Loosely connected chapters about you and Childe finding happiness. Maybe.

Notes: Part 2

Masterlist

***

childe? what a problematic asshole i hate him i- *trips* *thousands of pictures of childe spill from pockets* fuck those aren’t mine i swear i’m just holding them for a friend i- *slips on a pile of pictures* fu ck no they’re not mine i hate him i just- *more pictures fall out as i fall to my knees, desperately trying to pick them up* hang on a sec jUst LISTEN

Chapter 1

     A cold gust of icy wind drives you deeper into the sheets and you swear by the name of Her Majesty Herself once you get up and find Alexei, you’ll smother him with a towel for leaving a window open in the middle of the night.

    Somewhere outside, a rooster crows. Fine, not dead of the night then, but no one cares for technicalities like these when sleep is involved. Especially after a night like this one, when Alexei fucked you into oblivion and back, you need every minute of shuteye you can get before another day of exhausting missions in the Chechnaya Taiga of Snezhnaya claims your last strand of sanity.

    It’s peaceful mornings like these that make it all worthwhile though—the quiet during the early golden hour when people slowly wake up to a brand-new day and get ready to do their chores, their factory work. The sheer number of possibilities stretching out before their hands, and hope rekindled every morning despite the harsh cold waiting at their doorsteps. You love how everything stands still, how even the uncaring universe seems to grant people a sliver of peace, allows them to be soft and vulnerable. To be kind to themselves by indulging in a freshly brewed cup of coffee or tea. Nothing can spoil this for you, nothing and no one—

    An awkward cough sounds from the door. You close your eyes, willing him to disappear by simply ignoring him, but his eyes burn into the back of your head like two smouldering coals and eventually, you turn around to see Alexei standing in the door frame, shifting from left to right. “There’s someone out there who wants to talk to you,” he says.

    Turning around, you try to disappear into your pillow. “Whoever it is, I’m sure they can wait until it isn’t such a damn unholy time.”

    Alexei clears his throat. “It’s uhm … it’s someone from the Fatui.”

    Your eyes snap open. Suddenly the warm, cosy blankets feel like a snake’s tight hold around your body, and you struggle out of its grip, grabbing for the dressing gown you carelessly threw around the back of your chair last night.

    The sun hangs low in the east, painting the city of Kerch that stretches outside of your window a sheen of dusky gold. When the red-brown bricks of the dacha cottages come into view, you think of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child every year in celebration of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of the Zapolyarny Palace.

    Cold already seeps into your bones even though the robe is tight around your body. You hiss when your bare feet hit the icy floor but can’t find your slippers. Time to die like a woman.

    You brush past Alexei, who’s scratching his head, still just in his underwear and you think him crazy for walking around half-naked like that even though it’s minus 58F outside and the heating systems inside your barracks only start to work once outside temperatures drop to minus 75F.

    Maybe what they say is true. People from around Noyabrsk in the north of Snezhnaya regularly dip into frosty rivers and you do remember him mentioning ice swimming is his hobby. It was one of the few things you thought attractive about him. Actually, it was the only thing you thought attractive about him.

    Light streams into the floor from the kitchen, flickering once, twice in dangerous foreboding. It’s time to switch the lightbulb. Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure, because that isn’t important right now. What’s important is Tartaglia sitting at your table, leaning back in a chair, both feet crossed on top of the table, and eating your leftover mayonnaise sandwich you saved up for breakfast.

    His eyes slide lazily toward you, taking in your form—barefoot, shivering even though the fur from your bathrobe is of the finest white wolf fur obtainable on the market.

    Tartaglia finishes your sandwich, smacks his lips and licks mayo off his fingers. He doesn’t even like it, and you know from time to time he can’t handle dairy all that well. He just eats it because he knows how it infuriates you.

    “Alexei, huh,” he says in lieu of hello. “Didn’t know you’re into himbos.”

    Behind you, Alexei makes a sound like a kicked puppy. You glare at him over your shoulder, then jut your chin towards the front door. “Out. Now.”

    He doesn’t wait for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly fast for a guy this big, he bolts into your room, gets dressed in record speed and leaves your little one-bedroom apartment without so much as a Goodbye or “We’ll hear from each other,” and you prefer it that way. It saves stuff from getting messy.

    Speaking of messy, you really wish Tartaglia would have sent you a note before coming. The smell of icy wind and snowy forests clings to his clothes. He must have come straight from a mission, not unusual in the slightest, yet in most cases he sends a message your way just to make sure he doesn’t run into one of your one-night stands and it doesn’t get ugly.

    Like right now.

    “I thought you had a little more class than that,” he says nonchalantly. His feet keep wobbling from left to right until you make your way over and push them off your table. Not that you actually sit there to take your meals, no. But this is your home, you have to assert dominance.

    “Well, I’m not picky,” you say, taking the empty chair opposite from him. “The nights of Fyrva’snezh are really fucking cold.”

    “I’m sure Fire-Water will do the same trick.” He’s sulking, yet he has no right to it and knowing Tartaglia, that’s why he sulks even more.

    Your relationship can be summarised with one word: complicated. Which is funny, because besides martial arts classes (taught by a teacher that is a real ball of sunshine who could easily snap your spine like a twig) and infiltration tactics courses (led by a grumpy teacher who once woke you all up in the middle of the night to do a spontaneous quiz about infiltration steps and everyone who failed or fell asleep had to run a marathon through the forest in their underwear) you had to take at the Fatui military school of Zapolyarny, they also teach mathematics and molecular physics, and that shit was complicated.

    Growing up in a small seaside village—bless little Morepesok; how much you miss babushka Katya’s refreshing botvinia soup—with only a handful kids your age, gravitating towards Tartaglia was the natural development. He loves ice-fishing, you love eating fish. You gag just smelling solyanka, he wolfs it down like it might be his last meal on earth. Opposites attract each other, as they say, and how true it is for you two—you, the morning person and he, the night owl; his will of iron and your nerves of steel. Your bow, his sword, even though Tartaglia is a masochist who likes to make it hard for himself by trying to switch weapons solely because you’re better at it than him and he is a sore loser.

    His worship of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, your fear of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

    “I don’t think you came all the way here just to call me a slut,” you say. He is in no position to do so anyway, because Camilla from the ptychy’moloko shop down the road that leads to the Sarov church didn’t shut up about blowing him for weeks until you sent her a liver of a pig and claimed that was the leftovers from the last girl that thought she could put a leash on the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Camilla quickly moved on to an inconspicuous merchant who sells matryoshka dolls for a living and all is well that ends well.

    “What do you want?”

    Tartaglia starts tapping a gloved finger against the wooden table, a nervous tick you don’t know he’s aware of.

    “I’m leaving for Liyue first thing tomorrow.” His tone is low when he speaks, his earlier nonchalance replaced by a sense of urgency.

    “Okay.” It isn’t the first time he’s leaving Snezhnaya by order of the Tsaritsa, but every time he does, something inside you leaves with him. “So, you want me to keep an eye out for Teucer and the others?”

    “He’s really unhappy I’m leaving again already.” Tartaglia doesn’t mention the reason he was sent away just a couple of months ago to Inazuma was because he accidentally blew up an artillery factory belonging to a nobleman that secretly shipped orders to Fontain. The fallout from that was easier to handle with him not being anywhere nearby. Tartaglia is like a pair of hot tongues; no one is sure where to put him or how soon he would cool off, but if they just drop him, he might light the world on fire. Kid gloves are put on and a careful perimeter marked out.

    “And what excuse did you make up this time?” You knock your foot into his leg, lingering on his calf just a second too long before withdrawing again. “Another business trip to promote your toys? You can’t hold up this charade forever, you know.”

    “Why, your eyes feast on Snezhnaya’s greatest expatriate toy seller, now extending to the Liyue Branch of our Institute for Toy Research.” Tartaglia’s eyes have taken on a playful glint, and he leans forward as he speaks. “You wouldn’t be so cold to break a little boy’s heart. That’s not you.”

    You want to remind him that you have no problem to put an arrow between a man’s eyes, or rip out his fingernails, one by one, to get the information that you want.

    “You owe me, toy man.”

    “Put it on my tab.”

    Tartaglia looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but as always, he decides to swallow those words even though they must hurt like swallowing needles. You know that feeling, and so you help him sort out his tightly entangled yarn of emotions by figuratively pushing him off the cliff.

    “Don’t forget to bring condoms. I hear the women of Liyue are beautiful.”

    Tartaglia goes a sickly grey colour, like the ashes of a dead fire, but he’s been the leading role of this play too long to fall out of character now. He gets up and stretches like a cat getting comfortable in a spot of sunlight. His jacket rides up, showing a stripe of skin, and you quickly turn your head away before giving into leaning over the table and mark him with your teeth.

    Patting his left pants’ pocket, Tartaglia says, “I’m always prepared.” He carries a grin that is dry, humourless, and for a brief moment, you two lock eyes, trading a look that feels like a dare. You allow yourselves to imagine how he picks you up and carries you to your bed where you two would proceed to fuck without abandon through the whole day and the following night, leaving the bed only to get food until Tartaglia leaves for Liyue and you’d send each other love letters until his return. What an idea. What an utterly stupid, naive, wonderful idea.

    “Well, lucky ladies,” you say, not bothering to hide the jealousy in your voice because jealousy is easier to handle than regret.

    “Lucky indeed,” he agrees and dons his easy-going smile, one that he’s perfected after hours upon hours in front of the mirror until it accomplished what he wanted: to mock people, infuriate them.

    On his way out, he stops to ruffle your hair in an affectionate way, one typical for childhood friends, but the distance between you is like the ocean separating Snezhnaya from Liyue.

    It was on the very first day of your conscription into the military organisation, Number Six of the Ten Laws that the Fatui abide by: Any physical or romantic relationship between Fatui agents is prohibited. As thou would not exchange flesh with thy brother or sister, so thou shalt not with your comrade, for he or she is thy brother or sister in arms.

    And everyone knows Her Majesty the Tsaritsa’s word is law, and though the law is hard, it is the law.

__________________________________________________

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[monster-bait]

Into the Light—Will-o-the-Wisp Monster Match; M Elemental Fae x F Human, SFW for now (Rating will change!) Pt 1: Beginnings; or, Careful Where You Wander

Part 1 of a Fae realm story, will be at least 4 parts; commission for @thelampades​

You had always known the way through the wood.

Out the side door and through the garden, past the lavender patch and the campion planted by your grandmother; past the knotty old crab apple tree, its twisted limbs brushing the ancient, crumbling stones of an old bench, where you’d sat at your grandfather’s feet and listened to stories of secret fortresses on the moon. Through the gate and over the low stone wall which separated your family’s patch of property from the wilds, up the toadstool-lined pathway, past the lightning tree and across the wide meadow, ringed in green hills. A dark line of sentinel conifers stood at the forest’s edge, but your feet knew the path they concealed.

Ominous and forbidding to strangers were the woods, full of hidden dangers for the unwary, t’was true...but you knew the path well, had used the packed earth byway since you were just a child, a shortcut to town, set with landmarks as familiar to you as your own room, landmarks you trusted, which had never failed to lead you home.

You should have known better. 

Should have known it was impossible to trust wild things, should have known not to give your confidence to the ancient trees and the things they hid in the darkness. You should have known to stick to your path. Too late for self-flagellation now. You were nothing if not a fool, after all.

It was that foolish confidence that had led you out of doors that night.

There’d been a storm brewing for the better part of the afternoon: an oppressive heaviness in the air broken by the occasional gusting downpour. Distant thunder rumbled from the hills, and as the sky darkened, lightning accompanied. 

You’d been to town that morning, had managed to time your darting return trip between the bursts of rain, ducking into the treeline of the woods just as drops began pelting down once more. The trees had provided a cover to the calamitous weather, shielding you from the worst of it as you scurried like a mouse up oft-trod path; past the crumbled remains of an old woodswoman’s hut, past the wild blackberries and a lone standing stone, until you reached the fork in the trail. 

As a child, you’d etched a small arrow into the bark of the twisted maiden tree, a simple reassurance that you were on the right path, that you’d be breaking through the treeline to run across the meadow and clamber over the stone wall, to the warmth of your home and your mother’s biscuits. That day, the arrow in the twisted tree had been a reminder that you'd need to pause at the meadow’s edge, to ensure the weather was agreeable before you darted out to where the lightning tree stood.

You’d always had a curious fascination with the tree, felt a connection to its scar, a zig-zagging line of stripped bark where the tree had absorbed a lightning bolt, giving it its name. You were certain that you could hear the rumble of thunder still trapped within, and that if you were to strip away the bark around its burn, you’d find the blackened trunk riddled with veins and blood vessels, and that the beating of its pumping heart would match that of your own. You didn’t know why you had such a strange affinity for the old tree, but you always stopped to press your palm to its burnt side, to feel the storm raging within, but not that day. That day the rumble from the hills seemed ominous, a portent of warning carried on the air, and you did not dawdle.

That morning’s trip to town niggled at the back of your mind as the kettle heated once you were safely indoors. A trip to the seamstress, to the market, a quick pop into the baker as well, all doings that needed done, despite the weather.

You’d bumped into him outside the baker’s door, cursing your desire for warm bread in the first place when your toe caught the edge of the ladder he was stepping down from, causing you to pitch forward. The man had pivoted, just in time for you to slam into the broad, solid plane of his chest, big hands closing over your upper arms as you lost your footing.

Tall, taller even than Euan the ox, that great oaf who lived up the lane who every girl in town was gaga for, even though he was vicious when he drank, which was often. Tall enough that your nose barely came to the middle of his chest. Broad shoulders and long limbs, limbs which held you and your groceries firmly. You’d swallowed hard at the flex of his bicep, clearly felt through the roughspun he wore.

You did not know his name, but it was not the first time you’d encountered his crooked, carefree smile. 

The first time had been on the day a fire had nearly consumed the bank. A crowd had formed on the corner to watch the brigade do what they could, and you’d hovered on the edge of it, having just come over the hill from the woods. You’d not gotten the full story amidst the mumbles and muttered curses of the crowd, only that Mr. McConnell was insisting the bank had been struck by lightning in the middle of the day, despite the fair weather. You’d been straining to overhear the conversation between two women when the man in front of you—also hanging to the back of the crowd—had spun on his heel, a brilliant, crooked grin lighting up his face. 

Seeing the same handsome face now brought you up short as you wobbled. 

“You alright there, missy?”

His voice was deep with a touch of raspiness, holding you securely as you reeled. “Yes,” you gasped out, feeling your heart redouble its pounding as you looked up at last. Chiseled was the only appropriate word you could think of to describe his high cheekbones and square jaw, as heat flooded your cheeks, heat that would make itself known in scarlet patches, you knew. His nose was long and straight, and a scar cut through the arched brow above his right eye, the silvery white line moving like a spider web across his face to disappear into his unruly hair. “Yes, I-I’m fine. I should’ve been watching where I was going, I didn’t mean to bump your ladder, Mister…”

“Jack,” he cut in, lopsided grin stretching further, a smile that had set your teeth on edge the last time you’d withered before it. Huge hands engulfed your own, ensuring you were steady. His fingers were impossibly long and slender, the pads on them rough, the hands of a man who knew a day’s hard work, and you felt yourself quake beneath his casual touch.  “Jack of the lanterns.”  His lips were still pulled into that smile, but you’d refocused your gaze on his heavy-lidded eyes, bright and filled with a mirth that sent a spark crackle up your veins. 

You felt your own mouth drop open as his face lowered, your breath ceasing as his mouth approached your own. He’d been inappropriately familiar the first time you’d encountered him on the street as well, bowing low and kissing your hand as he stepped around you, and a fleeting part of your brain wondered what would be said if there were any eyes upon you, knowing the way village tongues loved to wag. When his lips detoured to whisper in your ear, you weren’t certain if it was relief or profound disappointment that twisted your insides. 

“You’d best be gettin’ on, missy. Storm’s a’brewin.”

The tip of his thumb had caressed the inside of your wrist, and your knees had nearly buckled when he’d released you with a wink, whistling a tune that was oddly familiar, like a half-forgotten dream, and you’d scurried home once he’d disappeared into the encroaching fog, trying to put the unsettling encounter from your mind. 

You didn’t know why you were so discomfited by the lantern man, why he made you feel as if there was a memory tugging from the morass of your mind, attempting to free itself from the muck. All you knew was that he rose the hair on the back of your neck, made you want to run...but also that the spark that seemed to singe your hair whenever he was near was somewhat intoxicating. You wouldn’t have been upset if he had taken the liberty to kiss you that morning. As he’d disappeared into the gloom that afternoon, you’d watched the lanterns flare to life, a golden glow in the mist, one after another, until you’d turned to hurry back to the protective cover and familiarity of the trees.

The man was strange, and you were strange enough on your own, no sense in adding to the assumption that you were nothing more than the odd girl in the village. Not that you cared, not personally, but it set you apart, and you were tired of feeling lonely. 

You shook your head as though the motion might shake loose and disperse thoughts of the strange man. There was washing to put away, supper to be prepared, and soon you’d managed to lose yourself so completely in your chores that all consideration of that afternoon was forgotten. Thunder continued to rumble the walls as dusk approached, well after the rains had ceased, and when fingers of lighting began to light the sky you were thankful for getting the shopping done early.

It was then that you saw the light. 

Small and bobbing low to the ground, moving at the far edge of the meadow, it flickered like a lantern as you peered in confusion from your small kitchen window. A child, you thought instantly. No adult would have been carrying the lamp so low, and none would be so foolhardy to be out wandering at such an hour in this weather...your thoughts were interrupted by your gasp as lightning split the sky, illuminating the black outline of the lighting tree in the distance. You lost sight of the lantern as thunder shook the house, and it was several long moments before you were able to pick out the bobbing light once more, moving steadily to the treeline of the dark wood. 

Your feet moved on their own volition, several quick steps to the door, which your traitorous hands threw open. Before you had any say in the matter, your shoes were on your feet and you were off, darting through the garden. The woods were not a place for a child in the middle of a sunny afternoon, let alone after nightfall, particularly with a storm coming. 

Through the garden and over the wall, up the small pathway until you’d reached the burnt up old tree, and lightning once more lit the green hills. Then you were running pell-mell across the meadow, whispering to every deity in the sky to not allow the lightning to find you.

The bobbing light had disappeared into the trees. 

You’d never been in the forest at night, but your feet knew the way. The path was dark, the moon above the trees concealed by clouds, but lightning illuminated the forest path every few minutes, showing you the trees to the sides of the path. 

“Little one! Wait! This is dangerous, you must come back!”

Gradually your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you began to pick out the familiar landmarks or the path—the moss covered stones of an old, forgotten well, a felled tree draped in a ghilie suit of moss. You’d not yet reached the twisted tree with your arrow when the flickering lantern light ahead abruptly veered off-course, heading into the dense thicket of trees.

You swallowed down a curse as you struggled to follow, calling out feebly once more.

“Little one, come back!”

Eyes appeared to your left, the glowing orbs belonging to some small creature you told yourself, crying out when you stumbled over a root. The light was leading you too far astray, too far from the path in a twisting manner, and returning would be dangerous if you continued. You need to turn back. The little voice in your head had just made itself known when your foot squelched in mud. Mud? It had rained, you reminded yourself, and the whole forest was still damp from that afternoon’s storms...but the next step was spongy and your foot sunk, icy water grazing your ankle above your leather boot, and you realized where it was you were headed. The bog. 

You remembered adventuring with your brother as a child in these woods, how you’d found the bog quite on accident. You’d had nightmares of the woods in those early days, repetitive dreams of being chased, of hounds at your heels, stumbling alongside leaping stags, until your brother was old enough to play with you in the meadow, and abruptly the dreams had stopped. You’d not been afraid to go exploring. It had been on one of those days, chasing each other with swords made from sticks, dodging around trees and running far off the trail, that you splashed unexpectedly into the water. Your brother had stumbled, the spongy moss of the wetland floor sucking around his foot, and he’d gone down face-first, stunned and sputtering. The clutching moss bed had not wanted to let him up, and you’d needed to pull with all your might to free him, and you’d each gone tearing home in terror, an unspeakable chill coiling icy tendrils around you as you ran.

It was the bog to which you were being led now, in the middle of the forest at night, in the pitch dark. 

Run! You listened to the voice in your head, spinning quickly before the wet earth had a chance to claim you. You realized in horror that the woods were silent, the sounds of the rustling leaves and rumbling thunder gone for the first time since that afternoon, the non-stop flashes of lightning darkened. There was nothing good waiting for you in the bog, and you couldn’t trust whatever it was that was trying to lead you there. You realized how foolish you’d been, that a lost child would have surely answered your repeated calls.

Without the help of the lightning, the woods were black once more. That’s what it wants, it means for you to be lost. It was dark and you’d been foolish...but your feet knew the way.

Over a log you’d balanced on as a child, up the small embankment where your brother had gone leaping, only managing to break a tooth and get you both in trouble, over the roots you’d tripped upon earlier. Ahead was the path, the path that would lead you home.

Past the old hut, past the shape of the blackberry bushes and the standing stone. You hadn’t realized just how far off course the light had pulled you, well past the fork in the trail, but you could make out the tree just ahead, the twisted segments of the thick truck always reminding you of dancing maidens. You didn’t know why it had always felt like safety once you passed the tree, but the feeling had always been there since childhood: once you reached your arrow, you were safe and nearly home.

The large rock had not been in the path that afternoon, for surely you would have taken a moment to move it off the trail, but it was there now, unseen in the darkness, and your scream lodged in your throat, choking you as you pitched over it. There had never been an incline in the pathway before, but as your body hit the hard earth, you rolled, gasping when you landed in the bramble beside the trail.

You’d scraped your knee painfully and had come down hard on your shoulder, and wanted to do nothing more than curl into a ball and cry...but adrenaline pushed you to your feet once more. The first few steps were agony, but you were determined to make it to the meadow.

You’d gone several meters when you realized you were on the wrong fork in the path.

Everything was wrong. The long shadows of the trees, lit by a moon that hadn’t existed only moments before, seemed to jump and leer as you whirled on the path, realizing your folly. It’s fine, it’s only been a short ways...just get back to the tree and on the right path, and you’ll be home before you know and can forget this ever happened. It should have been just as the voice in your head said, for you hadn’t gone that far...but as you staggered down the trail, your dancing maiden tree was nowhere in sight.

Glowing eyes began to appear at the sides of the endless path, silent witnesses to your panic. It’s only animals, foxes and rabbits, you tried to tell yourself, but somehow they too seemed ominous on this wrong fork in the road. When the moon shifted, illuminating the path before you—straight and shadowed, with no fork in sight, you began to panic in earnest. Could you be going the wrong way? Did you get turned around when you fell? You spun to look back the way you’d come, but the moon showed you nothing that would aid your journey. No, you definitely came this way...it’s probably just ahead.

When you turned on the path again, you were engulfed in arms, a looming figure blocking your way. Your scream was muffled by his huge hand, fear rippling up your spine as his lips pressed to your temple. “None of that, lovely girl. There are things that lurk in the wood, and you don’t want to draw their attention.”

You fought to control your breathing, to harness your panic as you panted in the tight circle of his arms. He was right. You didn’t want to draw the attention of the things that might be lurking on this strange path. Like whatever that was leading you.

“If I let you go, you’ll not scream?”

The instant his arms loosened their tight hold, you sprang away, getting your first look at the tall man. High cheekbones and a square jaw, set in a flawless, porcelain-like complexion. Fair hair fell carelessly around his high forehead, grazing his broad shoulders, and as you watched, his lips pulled into a crooked grin, showing you the glint of fangs. You shivered before him.

“How is that you came to be here, sweet?”

His voice was mellifluous and impossibly smooth, raising the hairs on your neck as he took another step closer. Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky when his hand raised: long, slender fingers, the tendons standing out in relief in the brief flash of illumination. You gasped when his knuckles met your chin, the back of his hand lifting your face gently, and you got your first good look at your potential saviour.

His eyes were the color of a tempest at sea: the stormy, grey sky and raucous waves, shot through with golden lightning. The tremor began in your toes, shivering up your body until you were shaking internally, your lungs stuttering, robbing you of breath breath. His eyes were like yours, so like yours, and you’d never met anyone before who had eyes like yours. 

“Hmm,” he mused, tilting your head with the tips of his fingers as his thumb traced along your jaw with a feather-light touch. “Touched by fire,” his other hand raised to rub one of your unruly red waves between finger and thumb, “and kissed by lightning...aren’t you a curiosity. You never answered me, pet.”

It took a long moment for your brain to catch up with his words. “I-I was following the light. I thought someone was in trouble, and...I followed it. I just want to go home, I-It’s not safe to be in the woods at night.”

“No,” agreed, dragging a cool fingertip down the long, white column of your throat. You arched beneath the pressure, despite the fact that your brain was screaming at you to put distance between yourself and this stranger. “It is not. But then, it’s always night here, sweet. How is that you got this far, I wonder? Following a light, you said? Surely the light would not have led you this far astray.”

“It was leading me to the bog,” you confessed, plowing on when he opened his mouth to interrupt, “but I know the way through the wood. It was only at the fork...there was a hillrock in the path and I fell, and I went the wrong way. I...please,” you whispered, trailing off. Always night? “I just want to go home.”

“I’m sure you do, but I’m afraid that’s not possible. You must be careful where you wander.” A creeping chill moved up the back of your neck as he spoke, as the shadows of the forest crept closer. “You’re in our realm now, pet.”

As he spoke, you noticed for the first time the slender tail twitching behind his muscular form. Whip-thin and sinuous, you watched as it moved, acting like an arm, independent of the rest of his body. Lightning split the sky, illuminating his striking silhouette, and his tail flicked, giving you a glimpse at the small, flickering lantern it clutched. 

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Go on to ~pt 2~

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#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x reader #monster x human #m monster x female reader #fae boyfriend #fae #tricksy fae #faeries #fae world #the court of night #elemental fae #will-o'-the wisp #lightning fae

[mosswillow]

Hiding Your Wolf (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Warnings - 18+ dark fic, kidnapping, noncon/dubcon, public nudity, smut, werewolves, A/B/O dynamics.

Word count 1.8k

Summary - you’ve been hiding your wolf your whole life. You know you shouldn’t go out on a full moon but you want to so badly.  

A/N - I wrote this quickly and didn’t do a good proof read or anything.  Enjoy :)

It’s a bad idea, you know it is. You can hear your mother's voice in your head admonishing you for even thinking of going out tonight. You want so badly to go though. Your friends have been begging you for weeks to go out with them. They can’t understand why halloween is such a dangerous time for you, especially this year which lands on a full moon. They would look at you like you’re crazy if you told them werewolves existed at all let alone what would happen if one caught you. You’re not a wolf but you have one in you. One bite would turn you, changing your life forever. You’ve been able to hide from wolves your whole life by being careful. You usually smell human but some nights of the year your wolf's scent comes through. Your parents are both wolves but never forced you to change. They kept you safe, giving you a choice. Maybe you wouldn’t mind turning if you were an Alpha or a Beta. Even if you were caught and turned you would still have a life. As an Omega though your life would be destined for service. You would most likely be forced to give up everything. School, friends, a career, traveling. All gone the second a pack turns you.

You spray yourself heavily with perfume and walk into the living room you share with your college roommate Darcy.

“Woah Y/N, went pretty heavy with the perfume.” Darcy laughs.

You brush off the comment, changing the subject.

“I decided to come tonight. I might leave early though.”

Darcy jumps up and down with excitement. She runs to her room, grabbing a dress and a sheet and shoving them at you.

“What is this?”

“Your costume!”

You strip and put your dress on, holding the sheet up confused.

“It’s a cape.”

Your eyes get big with recognition. The sheet is red. A hidden wolf dressed as red riding hood. You tie it around you like a hooded cape and twirl around.

“Looks great, lets go.”

You giggle as you make your way towards the house party. You’re on full alert, looking around and keeping your nose open. You walk into the party and grab a drink, starting to relax and enjoy yourself. One of your favorite songs comes on and you start dancing with a class acquaintance, flirting with her a little. Something about the atmosphere makes you more outgoing and you feel yourself becoming lost in a haze of delight. After the dance you get another drink and stand next to Darcy, talking and laughing. A shiver runs through your spine suddenly and you look across the room meeting eyes with Steve Rogers.

“Shit.”

“What?”

Steve Rogers is a wolf, like a full fledged Alpha wolf. He’s tried to approach you several times and you’ve always avoided him. You’ve always been sure to keep distance from him days before full moons, going as far as to skip classes and lose out on points.

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

“I think I started my period.”

“Oh shit. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s ok I’m getting tired anyway.”

“Ok, I’ll check on you when I get back.”

You’re already half out the door back. You half run through the backyard jumping over a drunk guy laying in the grass and throw the gate open. You start speed walking home. Half way through your walk you exhale, slowing down. That was a close one. You reach your building, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight of Steve leaning against the side of the building.

“You’ve been bad Omega, hiding your wolf.”

“Get over yourself Steve. You’re not my ‘Alpha’ ” you take a step back.

“Little Omega denying who she is. You’ll learn. ”

“Get away from me.”

“You smell so good.”

“Please don’t do this Steve, I don’t want to turn. I just want to be a human and have a human life.”

“My wolf picked you.” he says, pushing himself away from the wall and taking a step toward you.

Your eyes widen. He doesn’t just want to turn you, he wants to mate you. You turn on your heel and start running, making it to the forest line. The sheet falls from your shoulders and flies back. Steve grabs hold of it behind you, smelling it and throwing it aside. There’s no getting away and you know it but you keep running anyway. You trip over a tree root and fall to the ground, twisting your ankle. You start crawling, tears falling down your cheeks and Steve walks up behind you grabbing your waist and flipping you around.

“Don’t do it Steve.” you cry.

“Mine.” Steve the junction between your neck and shoulder. You black out.

---

Fire, everything is on fire. Your fingertips all the way to your heart feel like they’re burning up. You open your eyes and only see white. It’s too painful to speak or move or even think. You’re not sure how long you’re in this state before the pain suddenly ends and you’re cognizant. You’re not human anymore. You look over and see a light brown wolf staring at you. It’s Your Alpha, your mind supplies you. No, not your mind. Your wolf. He stalks toward you, challenging you and you bare your neck out of instinct. He licks your neck and nods his head, motioning you to follow him, which you do. You run for almost an hour before arriving at a small village of homes. Steve shifts into a human and looks at you.

“The first time is hard, just focus on your human self and let it happen.”

You do as he asks, closing your eyes and focusing on who you are as a human. You feel the fire again as you shift back and suddenly find yourself naked and cold. A group of people and wolves start gathering around you, whispering among themselves. You recognize several of them from town.

“An Omega,” you hear them whisper to each other.

You take a few steps back and Steve pins you to your spot with a stare.

“She’s mine.” Steve says to the group. Steve holds his hand out for you to take and you muster up all your courage, going against your nature.

“No.”

The crowd lets out a unified gasp before going silent again. Steve walks toward you slowly.

“No?”

You gulp. “I won’t be yours or join your pack. I’m about to graduate school and have a life. I can still have one as a rogue wolf.”

“Kneel.” Steve's voice hits you like a sledgehammer and you immediately obey.

Steve makes it to you, circling around in slow even strides. When he reaches your front he crouches down, looking you in the eyes.

“I already marked you Y/N, you’re not going anywhere.” He says. You feel the place Steve bit you, knowing he’s telling the truth. He made sure to bite you somewhere visible, making the bite deep enough to scar. Any wolf who sees you will know you’re taken.

“Fuck you!” you shout, fighting what feels like 100lbs on your shoulders to stand back up and turn away from Steve. You start walking towards the forest. Every step is a fight and you only take three before you’re being picked up and carried over Steve's shoulder, a sharp, humiliating smack landing on your bottom. You start hitting Steve’s back but he doesn’t respond. He carries you to a house, bringing you up a flight of stairs and to a bed. He throws you on the bed and you scramble to your knees.

“You won’t speak to your Alpha that way.”

He climbs on top of you, his weight crushing your body. He grabs your hands and holds them above your head and you try to squirm but can’t move. He brings his nose to your neck, inhaling and licking both sides, his scent mixing with yours.  

“I’ve been waiting so long to find my Omega, you have no idea.”

He leans in and kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He grabs your breast with his free hand, kneading. He lets go of your wrists, giving you a hard look that tells you not to try anything. He starts kissing and licking you working his way down your body and to your sex. He looks up at you and smirks before kissing your pussy. You whimper and he pulls away.

“You want to come, Omega?”

You shake your head no and he moves back, flipping you over and bringing his dick up to your entrance. He pushes in slowly, pulling at your hips so you stay in place. He starts thrusting harder and you let your front half relax. You can’t think of anything outside of the sensations. The sheets are luxurious and feel soft against your naked skin. beads of sweat forming on your forehead as your heat up. You listen to the slapping and grunting coming from Steve as he pounds into you. You forget where you are for a second and let out a moan which spurs Steve on and he gives a hard thrust, hitting your cervix. You let out a cry from the pain and he shushes you, slowing down again.

“I’m going to come.” He says, fingers digging bruises into your hips.

You feel him fill you up and he relaxes a bit before collapsing beside you. He puts a large arm around you, bringing you into a suffocating hug. You start crying and his chest rumbles, sending a calming feeling through you.

“None of that Doll.”

You stifle your cry and bury your head into his chest. You know you’ll never leave, he won’t let you. You won’t be going back to school or have a career. You doubt you’ll be allowed to go back to your apartment for your belongings or see any of your friends again. The idea of Steve owning you is terrifying. This huge stranger can do anything he wants to you now and you have no choice. Steve pulls a blanket over you and rubs small circles in your back until you relax, whispering praise into your ear. A tear runs down your cheek as you realize that you feel safe and happy with Steve. You’ve lost everything and don’t even care. So many terrifying things have happened tonight but this feeling of serenity is what scares you the most. You fucking love him. The monster that kidnapped you turning you into a werewolf and claiming you as his.

“I love you ‘Mega.”

“I love you too Alpha.”

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!fic #alpha!steve rogers #Werewolf!Steve Rogers

[turtle-paced]

A:tLA Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

First two-part episode of the series, and a very important one for the structure of the series going forwards too!

Book 1, Chapter 7 - The Spirit World (Winter Solstice, Part 1)

(0:55) Previously, on Avatar, Aang realised he was ready to hear whatever it was his previous incarnation Roku had to say to him. Katara lost her necklace and Zuko picked it up. Aang’s duty is to restore balance to the world by defeating Ozai, who got tipped off to Aang’s re-emergence by his own spiritual authorities.

(2:05) Airbenders think differently about heights. When Sokka suggests Katara jump off Appa and check out the fluffy clouds below them, she scoffs - but Aang gleefully says he’ll give it a go and launches himself into the air.

(2:17) Aang reports that clouds are made of water. The party will remember this.

(2:31) In this pre-flight era, where there are very few airbenders, the party has an unusual view of the devastation the Fire Nation has caused to the natural environment of the Earth Kingdom right from the beginning of their journey. As Sokka says, it’s like a scar. Attention to detail strikes again - the devastation is on one side of the river, which clearly halted some of the fire’s progress.

(2:37) When the group lands to check it out, the blackened area of the forest is more a burned-out area of the forest. There’s no wildlife around. Katara and Sokka’s differing concerns show up again. Katara checks in on a very upset Aang, while Sokka looks around for the causes of the fire (the Fire Nation).

(2:59) Aang with the heavy questions. “Why would anyone do this? How could I let this happen?” There aren’t any answers yet. Aang knows the world has changed, but he doesn’t understand how (and won’t until well into season three). As for ‘how could I let this happen?’, that requires some self-reflection. When Aang decided to run away the first time, he didn’t have the faintest idea that this, or this sort of thing, would be the outcome. The important thing here is his realisation that he doesn’t know how to be the Avatar.

(3:16) Aang draws a distinction between learning the styles of bending and learning his job. This shows us that Aang thinks of being the Avatar as more than the cool powers. He’s very much aware that being the Avatar comes with responsibilities he’s currently not at all prepared to handle.

(3:35) Fittingly, Zuko makes his re-entrance by wandering into a scene shouting for people (in this case, Iroh) to go places and do things.

(3:47) Once again Iroh advises Zuko to slow down, rest, and maybe practice some self-care. Alas, Zuko’s troubles cannot be soaked away.

(4:10) I think this might be the first time we’ve seen a variation on Iroh’s breath of fire, exhaling steam through his nose to heat the water. 

(4:16) And another instance of Iroh refusing to let Zuko bully him, with a bit of malicious compliance. Zuko wants Iroh to leave the springs now? Okay! What, it was hardly as if Iroh was going to get in the water fully clothed. It’s saying no to Zuko and giving him some self-inflicted consequences of his own poor behaviour, without hurting him.

(4:30) “Are you ready to be cheered up?” Seriously, love Katara. This implies some time passing between the end of the last scene and the start of this one, in which she’s backed off to let Aang work through his emotions on his own. But she’s also not going to let Aang wallow in his problems, and she’s used the time to find something that might help Aang feel better about the problem at hand. She’s proactively dealing with the emotional issues here.

(4:47) What Katara found is acorns. Katara’s not just sitting back and saying “I have hope”, she’s going out and finding things that give her hope, and then sharing them. (And important for her to do, in an episode where she doesn’t have much of a role.) It’s also an important reminder for the group and the viewer - despite the destruction, things can regrow.

(5:11) Yet another person who sees airbending tattoos and thinks ‘aha! This must be the Avatar! Definitely not a descendant of surviving airbenders!’ It’s phrased as “are you the Avatar?”, which leads to an understated exchange between Aang and Katara where Aang looks to her, she nods, and Aang nods at the elder in an affirmative. The message between them being that it’s okay for Aang to call himself the Avatar even though he feels like he’s failed.

(5:22) Shot of another Earth Kingdom village. Those walls. No matter how small the village is, they have walls. Because it’s easy for earthbenders to make them. There has, however, been a recent fire. Several houses are burned.

(5:37) Rumours of the Avatar’s return have reached this tiny village who-knows-where in the Earth Kingdom.

(5:58) The problem the villagers are seeking help with is not the Fire Nation, however. It’s a spirit monster, Hei Bai. Up till now, the protagonists have been dealing with wartime dangers (and Bumi). This brings in one of the more solidly fantasy elements of the story. The spirit has been taking people from the village for the last few nights.

(6:20) It’s established here that the solstices are significant dates, as the natural world and the spirit world are closest at these points.

(7:08) This is one of those places where Aang is completely unequipped to handle Avatar duties. He knows next to nothing about the spirit world. This also lets the audience learn along with Aang.

(7:16) When Katara asks if Aang can help, Aang says, “I have to try, don’t I? Maybe whatever I have to do will just come to me!” Aang’s good points and bad points in a single line. Not helping doesn’t even occur to him, to the point where he sees helping others as his obligation. But there’s not much proactivity on a personal level there either, his first instinct being to hope that the solution will come to him, rather than ‘let’s go out and find this solution’.

(7:25) Love Sokka, too. “Yeah…we’re all gonna get eaten by a spirit monster.”

(8:04) It’s an important thing to remember about Iroh - he’s clever and he’s powerful, but he’s not infallible. As we see here when he’s effectively ambushed. Note how unconcerned he is about missing Zuko’s deadline, by the way.

(8:15) The incident gives the writers a chance to reiterate Iroh’s background. Fire Lord’s brother, famous general. It also gives us a title for him: “The Dragon of the West.” Iroh being captured here and addressed by a title additional to whatever he might have by virtue of being related to the Fire Lord shows us his Earth Kingdom notoriety.

(8:35) This is half-comical given Aang’s actual words, but the music and his solitude on the streets of the village are a reminder that Aang, who is not yet thirteen and who doesn’t know the spirit world ins and outs of his job, is heading out alone to confront a spirit who’s been attacking a village.

(8:44) Sokka is the first to object to letting Aang do this alone. This shows us something about Sokka’s relationship with Aang. We’ve seen Sokka reluctant to help strangers - just last episode, in fact - and we’ve also seen Sokka willing to face down an entire warship by himself to help his community. He hasn’t said it like Katara has, but Sokka’s actions show that he’s come to consider Aang as part of his family.

(9:21) Hei Bai appears and definitely fits the description of ‘spirit monster’.

(9:37) While I’m appreciating characters, love Aang, whose first reaction to a giant and quite possibly hostile spirit monster towering over him is to smile, bow, and politely introduce himself.

(9:47) Of course, the flaw in Aang’s approach is shown when his words do nothing. Hei Bai, enraged by the destruction of their forest by humans, starts rampaging around the nearest human settlement. Aang continues to try and talk even while Hei Bai is smashing buildings. We know that Aang’s pretty adaptable; he just doesn’t want to switch tactics to violence. Admirable, but not always effective, and Aang is slow to recognise and engage with situations where he has to fight.

(10:37) Sokka charges out to fight Hei Bai while Katara hangs back. On Katara’s part, I wonder if this is partially her not trusting her own ability to help in a fight.

(10:55) Aang’s just in the middle of saying “I don’t want to fight [Hei Bai] unless I have to” when Sokka gets snatched.

(11:09) It’s nighttime, and Zuko’s out looking for his uncle. Seems he didn’t leave after ten minutes, in the end. All bark and not a whole lot of bite.

(11:16) When a soldier suggests that perhaps Iroh left, under the impression that Zuko would have left, Zuko doesn’t even consider it. Even if Zuko takes it a bit for granted at this point, this relationship is so important to his character development. Zuko’s father hates him. Zuko’s mother loved him, but also left him, and he’s not privy to her reasons for going. And Zuko can still trust absolutely that Iroh loves him and wouldn’t willingly leave. He just doesn’t think about the implications for another season and a half.

(11:22) Zuko also using his brain here as he spots the reverse landslide. Another important thing to show, given that so much of Zuko’s arc involves him dealing with some realisations that are immediately obvious to the viewer. (He’s on the wrong side of the war, his dad’s a piece of shit, things like that.)

(11:37) Seriously skilful flying from Aang - he’s moving fast, through a forest, after sunset.

(12:00) Sokka gets taken into the spirit world, and Aang crash lands in front of Hei Bai’s shrine.

(12:11) Aang wakes up, and the animators do the heavy lifting in partially concealing how Aang’s been taken to the spirit world (or has partially shifted to that plane? The mechanics are unclear). The orange and yellow of Aang’s clothes are washed out in the nighttime scene, further than they were in the twilight scene immediately before the commercial break cut.

In character terms, Aang is struggling hard with feelings of failure. This is even worse because they’re justified feelings of failure and important things he’s failed at. It’s not fair he has the responsibilities, it’s true he’s a kid. There are mitigating factors here. But having tried and failed to stop the damage to the village and rescue Sokka, Aang’s feelings are valid, and deeper than can be resolved in just the one episode. This goes hand in hand with Aang’s knowledge of his responsibilities as the Avatar. He’s well aware of the expectations and where he falls short. We’ll be coming back to Aang’s self-blame and good/bad responses to failure in future episodes.

(12:23) In this establishing shot of the Earth Kingdom soldiers escorting Iroh, note that they’re barefoot.

(12:32) “We’re taking you to face justice.” Another important thing to remember with Iroh. He spent most of his career trying to conquer the Earth Kingdom. With the exception of the one flashback, the viewer sees the kindly old man who’s trying to help his nephew and, later, free the Earth Kingdom. Not everyone in-universe shares this perspective.

(12:44) As we get from the soldiers continuing to helpfully exposit. First mention of Ba Sing Se, here, and the great siege of the backstory.

(12:59) “After six hundred days away from home, my men were tired and I was tired, and I’m still tired.” With what we later learn about Lu Ten, it very much appears to me that Iroh says ‘tired’ but means ‘grieving’, and this line is a G-rated indication that there were a lot of deaths during this particular siege.

Oh, and also it’s a good lead-in to his ruse. Just as Zuko trusts that Iroh wouldn’t up and ditch him, Iroh trusts that Zuko will be looking for him.

(13:32) Gotta feel so bad for Katara, here. Aside from her own backstory of dead and absent parents, she’s just watched her brother and her best friend vanish in a fight with a spirit, leaving her alone in a foreign country.

(13:38) Katara’s holding on to Sokka’s boomerang.

(13:49) As the sun rises, it’s now clear that Aang’s clothes aren’t just washed out, he’s entirely blue-shaded. With his inability to interact with Katara and the elder, not to mention being translucent, the penny drops and Aang realises he’s in the spirit world.

(14:20) Voice acting! It’s just the one line, but on his own, Zuko is a lot less growly and shouty.

(15:06) After a low-key miserable scene of Aang, Katara, and Appa being utterly unable to comfort each other, Aang shouts at the sky that he needs to talk to Avatar Roku.

(15:17) The introduction of the no-bending-in-the-spirit-world rule.

(15:32) We get a good look at the mysterious light chasing Aang. It’s a dragon (Fang). This is quickly followed by our first look at Roku.

(16:28) Interestingly, Iroh is able to see Aang even when he’s travelling in the spirit world. Much like other things in Iroh’s backstory, this is never fully explained.

(16:44) Iroh might have left his sandal behind in faith that Zuko would be following, but he’s still going to attempt to free himself with some quality briar-patching. Of course his captors are willing to chain him tighter.

(17:06) Here we see Iroh heat his cuffs red-hot the same way he heated the springs he was bathing in. He’s showing us combat application of what he was trying to teach Zuko in the first episode - firebending comes from the breath, not the muscles. So he can still firebend effectively when he’s chained up and unable to use his muscles to their fullest extent. I feel pretty bad for this corporal, whose entire palm and fingers were pressed to red-hot metal for a few seconds. If anything, he’s not screaming enough. Iroh follows that up by startling the soldiers’ ostrich-horses and making a break for it, rather than attempting anything more lethal.

(17:18) Aang and Fang approach a volcanic island and a temple. The temple is five storeys. A lot of stonework and tiling, a lot of gold.

(17:40) So while we’re looking at this heavily gilded statue, I just want to raise one question - who ordered this temple built? Or, at the very least, who commissioned this statue of Roku, the dimensions of which must have been calculated with the uppermost room in mind?

Think about it. Roku was a known opponent of Fire Nation expansionism. Would the Fire Sages spend this much money or place a very expensive statue of the Fire Lord’s political opponent in a temple without the Fire Lord’s okay? As we’ll see in future episodes, they’re pretty involved with the state. Could Roku’s surviving family afford this? Would Azulon or Ozai fork out the cash? I also note that the statue is an accurate depiction of Roku in his latter years, so aside from this being done by a skilled artisan (and hence a $$$ artisan), someone who knew Roku well was involved in the design phase.

I think this temple might be a product of Sozin’s guilty conscience. I don’t think this conclusion was intended, but the show’s later depiction of Roku and Sozin’s relationship makes it an appealing post-hoc explanation.

(17:47) Fang spiritually transfers a bit more knowledge. In this case, Sozin’s Comet, bereft of context. It’s clearly bad, though!

(18:00) Bringing back the point about the solstice from earlier, we see a spot of sunlight approaching the face of the Roku statue. Fits with the exposition!

(18:50) Iroh is quickly recaptured, because he’s one chained-up guy trying to escape over dirt without killing anyone (let’s be real, Iroh could easily kill these guys), being followed by three earthbenders.

(19:07) Katara goes out looking for Aang and Sokka. Mostly, this is an excuse for -

(19:16) - Zuko to spot Appa. He knows that means the Avatar. But Appa’s flying one way, the tracks of the ostrich-horses are leading another, and Zuko has to choose.

(20:18) This week in “it’s really freaking hard to humanely contain benders”, the Earth Kingdom soldiers decide to crush Iroh’s hands. Given that Iroh barely used his hands and that the most significant injury he caused in that escape attempt was to someone’s hands...I’m thinking this is more retaliatory than anything.

(20:25) Zuko arrives to save the day, having chosen his love for his uncle over his quest (and, implictly, over his love for his father). It makes it easier to support Zuko and Iroh in this fight, especially after the hand-crushing thing. Unfortunately, as Azula will prove in season two, this isn’t a one-and-done decision.

Also, off to the right - is that a female Earth Kingdom soldier? I think it might be! The show is welcome to continue proving me wrong about female earthbenders in the background! (I mean, they’re still a tiny and voiceless minority, but there are more than I thought!)

(20:42) “You are clearly outnumbered!” “Ah, that’s true…but you are clearly outmatched.” Damn that’s a line. Especially since the fight bears that out. Iroh doesn’t even firebend, instead using his chains. 

In one particularly noticeable shot, he uses the chains to redirect the momentum of a rock flying towards him. From what we’ve seen of Zuko and Zhao, this isn’t a technique firebenders use much. Even before we’re told Iroh learned from watching waterbenders, we’re shown that Iroh learned from watching waterbenders. This series knows how to do fight scenes - not just how to make them tense, but how to make them show character.

(21:23) After failing the previous evening, Aang is trying again. Good on him.

(22:07) Aang touches Hei Bai and learns/confirms that Hei Bai is the spirit of the forest, and says that now he understands. Hei Bai is angry because his home was burned down. So the war can have effects on the spirit world as well. It’s a two-way relationship.

(22:22) Aang offers Hei Bai an acorn. Hei Bai accepts it, and is appeased. So in the end, Aang didn’t have to fight after all. He could resolve the situation using his words. But that was only possible after he understood what was going on, and only after he had some real help to offer. The series is anti-war, but it doesn’t treat talking as a magical cure-all to conflict.

(22:58) “If only there were a way we could repay you for what you’ve done.” “You could give us some supplies and some money.” Ah, practicality. But again the sort of thing that helps to explain how the group are getting by day to day.

(23:24) We leave off with the hook for next episode, part two. Contacting Roku has to be done ASAP, but they have to go to the Fire Nation to do it. Sounds dangerous!

#a:tla #cw: violence #fine toothed comb edition

[nerdypanda3126]

Playing with Fire

Hope you had a Happy Valentine's Day, @bloody-no-kissu! I stepped in as your @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers secret admirer 😁💖

The prompt I chose to go with was: fantasy, the princess falls for the dragon instead – marinette is a princess and bc of a curse she is locked in a tower with a dragon (luka). while she waits for the destined knight to save her from her curse she spends more and more time with luka. they fall in love.

So I did take a few liberties on this to weave it together, but I really hope you like it! Huge thanks to @writtenbyrain for the beta read on this!  

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Marinette had been told the story of her curse so many times she could recite it by heart. 

“You were a baby,” her dad would tell her. “A tiny little thing, still all wrapped up in diapers. And that… thing—” he always growled at that, as if the dragon she’d been found curled up with had personally insulted him. He would shake his head, and give her a pitying look. “—It stole you from us. And by the time we found you, you were already cursed… already...” he would gesture to her at that point, indicating the way she was every night as soon as the moon slipped above the horizon.

Every night she was engulfed in a blue flame that made it impossible for anyone to come near. Impossible for her to be touched. 

What she was never able to find out, though, was why. Why the dragon had apparently chosen her to curse, why it hadn’t killed her outright when she was barely out of diapers. Why she kept dreaming of sleeping safely within its coils, her fire cooled as if that was where she had always belonged. 

She knew where it lived now. Everyone knew. It had taken up residence in a lonely tower high up on the mountain. Everyone said it was guarding a valuable secret; why else would it be there? Of course, people had tried to find out, although they often came back singed and babbling. Something about a dark sorcerer or a beautiful prince or a shapeshifter or… the stories always varied. 

Finally, a reward was offered. The dragon had been a menace for far too long, the writ proclaimed. Anyone able to bring back its head would be handsomely compensated.

More people flocked to the cause: soldiers from far away places wearing shiny armor and bearing sharp, glinting swords, sorcerers with staffs and books claiming they had this method or another to calm the beast. None of them returned. 

Night after night, Marinette’s flame burned hotter, brighter. And night after night she dreamed of the dragon. She couldn’t tell anymore what was memory and what was a dream. She thought she remembered the dragon plucking her from the river she’d fallen into, breathing life and fire into her lungs, curling up around her to keep her warm until her parents found her. But that couldn’t have been true. The dragon was dangerous, everyone said so. And it had left her with this unbearable curse. 

“I’m going after it,” she proclaimed to her parents after the worst night she'd had in all of her eighteen years of bearing the curse. 

Her dreams had been strong that night. She had awoken to her mom shaking her, screaming, desperately pleading with her to wake up. Her hands and arms up to the elbows had been irreparably burned in the process. It wasn't until Marinette had struggled into consciousness that she realized she’d been burning their house down in her sleep. 

Her parents shared a look after her declaration. One of, “We shouldn’t let her, but what else can we do?” 

Marinette winced as she caught a glimpse of her mom’s burned forearms, still wrapped in bandages and salves to soothe the shiny, blistered skin underneath. Her eyes slid over to the corner where she slept, with only her silhouette outlined in the charcoal her fire had left behind. 

“I have to do this,” she said resolutely. “If there’s one good thing to come of this—” she gestured to herself and to the flames that spit and crackled around her “—it means I can’t be burned if I go at night. With the money, you can fix what happened. I'll stay in the stone tower after the dragon's gone where I can't hurt anyone else. Everyone wins," she finished glumly. 

Her dad sighed in resignation and wrapped an arm around her mom’s shoulders.

So the next day just before dusk, they packed a meal for her to take with her, kissed her fondly on both her cheeks, and waved goodbye as she started up the path. 

For it was goodbye. A sacrifice Marinette was more than willing to make. 

As she trudged up the mountain path, the forest grew darker and more foreboding. The only saving grace was that as the light faded, her flame started burning, providing her with light to see by, although she did catch a branch or two on fire as she went. She poured her water out carefully on each one, putting it out without wasting her own resources. If she ran out before she made it to the stone tower, it was entirely possible she’d burn the entire forest down, and it would spread back to her village, back to her parents’ house. 

She soldiered on, even as brambles tore at her skirt and arms, as she grew weary of walking, as she ran lower and lower on life-saving water. 

It was the dead of night when she finally reached the tower, and the dragon wasn’t anywhere in sight. She walked up to the tower using the flagstone path, admiring the well-manicured garden from afar. The tower was quiet, almost as if it was slumbering along with the dragon.

She ran her hand along the cool stone wall as she mounted the steps one by one, dreading what she might find when she got to the top. 

Halfway up, though, she ran into—well, if there was a beautiful prince trapped here, then it must be him. He was tall and pale, with a shock of dark hair and enthralling blue eyes framed by deep purple circles, as if he never slept. He seemed startled to see her at first, though she was used to that. A girl on fire was a startling sight.

But then he reached out a hand, smiling. She flinched away from him. His kind smile shifted to sympathy and he dropped his hand. 

“That’s quite a power you’ve got,” he noted easily. 

She shifted uncomfortably away from him. He didn’t seem affected by the heat she always emanated, but she was still careful not to get too close to anyone. 

“The dragon cursed me with it when I was a small child,” she said.

His head quirked sideways, as if he were appraising her or trying to remember something. When he didn’t respond, Marinette tried again. 

“I’ve come for the reward. Is it asleep?” 

“He,” the man said stiffly. “And he’s gone for now. He disappears at night. You’re welcome to come back in the morning to try your luck.”

There was a note of despondency in his tone, and he scooted past her in the narrow stairwell to continue on his way down. 

She considered continuing up the stairs, but if the dragon was gone, there was no point to it. She hesitated before she followed him—the prince, he had to be—down and back outside. 

There was a pool of moonlight in the very center of the garden, and he walked over to it and lay down as if basking in it. The sigh he let out was at once content and terribly lonely. For some reason, it pulled at her heart. She knew that feeling. She had come to terms with her curse, with her lot in life. But that didn’t make it any better when she was unable to sleep soundly without worrying about her flames burning out of control.

She came as close to him as she dared and sat cross-legged on the flagstone path. 

“You’re not… trapped here?” she asked. Every story she’d ever heard of the handsome young prince was that he was trapped, doomed, kept prisoner by the monster. 

He didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled again. “Oh, I am.” 

“But…” she glanced around. There were no fences, no guards, no magical barriers. She had walked right in, after all. “Can’t you just… leave?” 

He did open an eye at that. “Can’t you just… put that fire out?” He smirked before he closed his eyes again and settled with his face towards the moon. “I’ve been trapped here for longer than I care to remember and now…” He looked over at her again, his blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “So are you.” 

She looked around again. Still, nothing that would prevent her, or him for that matter, from leaving. He sighed. 

“The dragon, he’s been waiting for you. That… well, some probably call it a curse, but it's more like a bond.” 

“A bond?” 

“You were a small child, you said? When it happened?” 

She nodded, and he nodded back in answer. 

“The dragon was young, too. A child in his own right. He wouldn’t have known…” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “He wouldn’t have known that if he shared his breath with a human, he’d be claiming them. Bonded with them for the rest of his life, tethered to them. Cursed to share a half-life with them.” 

“I’m… sorry... “ She struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re saying… I’ve been claimed?” 

“If I had to guess, I'd say your fire only burns at night, right? As soon as the sun sets? Maybe only while you slept at first, but it's gotten worse lately?” 

She blinked at him. Her mother’s burned arms floated back to the forefront of her memory. 

“You have a fire burning in you that’s never been yours to control. If you had stayed away from him any longer, you would’ve burnt out of control until everyone you knew and loved was dead. You’re his and he’s yours, for better or worse.” 

“I… wait… you’re saying…”

“You’re intended to be either the dragon's bride or his killer,” he finished bitterly, turning his head away from her. “Not that he has much say in the matter, either, if it’s any consolation.” 

“But if I do… kill him…” she started, grimacing at the thought, “do you think that would lift my curse?” 

“Yours and mine, too.”

“You don’t look very cursed to me,” she muttered. Other than being trapped, as he’d claimed, he seemed perfectly normal. Every bit the beautiful prince she’d heard tales of. With the moonlight falling over him, he was paler still and he looked like a marble statue that had fallen on the ground. His shaggy dark hair flopped over his ears in ragged lines, and even resting he looked tense.

To her surprise, he started chuckling, although there wasn’t any mirth to it. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Nothing,” he said, although he sat up and faced her. “I just wonder if you’ll still think that in the morning.” 

“What happens in the morning?” 

“The dragon comes back,” he said simply, and he pushed himself up to stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I have a feeling I’ll sleep better knowing my savior has come at last.”

He quirked his lips in a funny sideways smile, then offered her a hand again. She shook her head at him and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I promise.” 

She hesitated. The fear of hurting him flared strong and her fire started flickering and sputtering along with her anxiety. His eyes softened, and he reached forward, into her aura of flames. To her complete and utter surprise, his hand came through unscathed. 

“I told you, it’s okay,” he said. 

Stunned, Marinette  laid her hand in his and he helped her stand up. Her fire raced along his arm and arced over his body until he was just as engulfed as she was. But rather than being harmed by it, it seemed he was helping her with it, sharing some of the burden. In fact, when he released her, she looked down at her hands and was shocked to find that the moonlight was the only thing illuminating them. 

She looked back up at him and he smiled, although it was still tinged with sadness, and he gestured with his head to the spot of moonlight that still spilled across the grass.

She ran, giddy to be released from her curse for the first night in her entire life and fearful that it would come back before she could race back to the safety of the stone path. As she rolled in the cool grass, she couldn't help the giggles that escaped her, the pure bliss of being safe under the stars overtaking her. When she finally stilled, she sighed as she looked up at the bright, twinkling lights, unobscured for the first time. They were so clear, all the way up there, like she could reach out and touch one. She lifted her hand up and pretended she could, cupping the full moon between her hands as if she held it close.

She’d gotten so used to the flames crackling around her that without them the world seemed deathly silent. Peaceful, but eerie. 

When she sat back up and turned to look back at the path, she found that the prince had disappeared. To turn in, as he’d said, although he hadn’t told her where she might sleep.

She looked at her hands again, so foreign to her without the bright blue flames. They looked smaller. More fragile. 

Suddenly, she realized that was the one thing protecting her from the dragon. The reason she’d felt so confident in coming up here. She couldn’t be burned at night because she was already engulfed in flames. But he’d taken her flames away. He’d gifted her the ability to roll in the grass without burning anything down, sure, but he’d also stolen her protection. 

Even though her flames weren’t snapping around her, she felt the panic rise up in her chest. What if he was a dark sorcerer after all? What if it was his job to lure people here and steal their power? What if this had all been a trap? 

She stumbled to her feet and clenched her fists. He’d seemed so kind. She’d trusted him. She hadn’t thought he would steal from her.

She marched back inside, uncaring if the grass sizzled under her feet or not. The tower stairs only went up, so she followed them, winding her way up to the top, unsure of what she might say or do if she found him, but certain that she had to find him regardless.

The sound of heavy, deep breathing hit her first. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. It was something much bigger. 

She tiptoed around the last bend, her fear climbing with each step.

She held her breath as a large room at the top came into view. One wall was completely open, and there was a huge, sleek, black, serpentine figure wound tightly around itself in the moonlight that spilled into the corner. One wing was draped over its head, like a curtain.

She held her breath as she backed out of the room. 

Hadn’t he said the dragon wouldn’t come back until morning? Hadn’t he said it disappeared at night? Hadn’t he said—

She cursed the dark sorcerer, the beautiful prince, whoever he was, under her breath as she turned and tripped her way back down the stairs. He had also said she couldn’t leave, but based on the way he’d lied about everything else, that’s exactly what she would do. She would run, all the way back to her parents, to her village, even if it meant sleeping on a stone bed the rest of her life. 

As she ran towards the forest, her steps started sizzling underneath her again, and her hands started to flame up before she could stop them. Her tears dissipated before they even had a chance to fall. 

From the top of the tower, she heard a strangled cry, still inhuman, but closer to it, and filled with pain. It spurred her on, although the fire was starting to burn white around her hands, stinging her painfully, and she shook her hands, trying to put it out. The farther she ran, the more the fire seeped into her skin, making her cry out. 

There was a great whoosh of wind behind her, then footsteps, matching her pace, although more spread out. The pain was blinding, but still she pushed on against whatever unknown barrier was causing it. She cradled her hands to her chest and struggled as each step forward was now a shooting, searing, white-hot bolt of pain through her. 

Strong hands caught her from behind and pulled her backwards—the hands of the dark, beautiful sorcerer. She kicked against him, trying to pull away, but he held fast. The pain behind her eyes cleared and she realized he was taking the fire away from her again. 

“You… can’t… leave…” he huffed as he dragged her backwards. She tried to claw away from him every step of the way.

Finally, though, he’d pulled her back to the clearing and dropped her on the stone path unceremoniously. She bolted back up to her feet and he caught her around her middle and shoved her back down, moving at the same time to stand in front of her and block her path. 

“You can’t leave,” he panted again. “Or we both die.” 

“I’m supposed to believe you’re kidnapping me for my own good?” she spat and scrambled back to her feet. “And who the hell are you, anyway?” 

“Sorry. Luka. I’m Luka.” He held his hand out for her and she smacked it away. He winced. “You have every right to be upset. But listen to me. I’m just trying to protect you. You can’t leave this tower without me.” 

He was still trying to catch his breath, and she noticed for the first time that his eyes had changed to serpentine slits and there was a distinct black sheen on the backs of his hands that worked its way up his forearms.

As she watched, he grabbed her hand and shivered as she was once again engulfed in blue flames and he returned to normal. 

"We're connected," he explained softly. "We share the fire. It's mine in the morning and yours at night. Now that you've come here, you can't leave unless you're either with me or there's no fire to share, or it rips us both apart. So for your own sake, you either stay put or you kill me, do you understand?"

He released her hand, and she looked at them incredulously. That he'd taken her fire away and given it back was proof enough of what he was saying. 

"Kill you?" she asked, his words sinking in through the remnants of pain behind her eyes. "As in… you're the…the...?"

"Yes."

"But you're…" she gestured to him, to his humanness, and he shifted uncomfortably under her bewildered gaze. 

"I know. Like I said, it's yours at night. That was the first time in 18 years I've had the moonlight on my scales." 

She gasped for breath as her fire started spitting around her, casting off sparks that came dangerously close to the grass. "I can't… you're human, or half-human or… I can't… I can't do this!" 

"That's okay. Hey. It's okay." His hands hovered over hers, not quite touching her, leaving her fire with her. "What's your name? Can you tell me your name?" 

"Ma-Ma-Marinette…" she stuttered as she attempted to keep breathing. 

"Okay, Ma-Ma-Marinette." He smiled, trying to put her at ease. "Let's just take this slow, okay? Would you be willing to stay here tonight with me? We can talk more in the morning." 

"You're a dragon in the morning," she said, then a hysteric giggle burst out of her at how ridiculous that sounded. 

He chuckled with her and laid the back of his hand against hers. As her fire arced across to him, his eyes turned into slits again and his scales slid over his arm. "I don't have to be anymore." 

She gaped at him as he pulled his hand away again and slid back to humanity. 

"One night. That's all I'm asking." 

Her dream popped back in her head and she blushed even before the question was out of her mouth. "If I sleep… you know, touching you, or like, against you… would that…?" She gestured to the fire still burning around her and then to him. 

He smiled again and chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I think so. But everything's stone, so you won't burn anything down if you'd… you know, if you'd rather not." 

She considered for a moment until her curiosity got the better of her.

"One night," she agreed.

He let out a sigh of relief and gestured for her to lead the way. 

As she mounted the stone steps again, her fire—his fire, she corrected herself, he'd shared it with her—bounced off the smooth stone and flickered along with her nerves. This time at the top of the stairs, she paused to look at the room Luka had called his own for 18 years.

There was a nest of pillows piled in the corner, a stack of books with open pages fluttering in the breeze that flowed through the wide opening, a lyre leaning against the smooth wall, and bits and pieces of armor lined up along the wall like trophies. She recognized a few here and there and gulped. No wonder they hadn't returned. 

She half-turned to him, her question dying in her throat, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Tomorrow," he said, gesturing for her to continue past everything. She did, but paused before her flames touched the pillows. 

"Here," he said, and threw out a hand for her to take. Tentatively, she took hold of him and watched as he shivered and his transformation took hold. 

He kept eye contact with her as scales slithered over his arms, his hands turned to claws, wings erupted from somewhere around his shoulders, and his body elongated until it was a solid length of powerful muscle.

She slid her hand to what was about his neck and he blinked slowly at her before lowering himself to the pillows and coiling his body tightly around itself, tucking his legs in what seemed to be a familiar position. 

It was a bit awkward to maneuver herself into his coils without taking her hand off him, but they managed and he draped his wing over her, for warmth she assumed, because the breeze that was drifting in was nipping at her exposed skin. And he was warm, she realized, like having his fire returned to him made him a living furnace.

She could see it, when she twisted to look at him: a deep blue illuminating the thinner skin at the base of his neck and flaring brighter in his chest as he breathed. 

She curled into him and fell asleep with his deep, heavy breathing in her ears and his sleek scales shifting under her hands.  

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #LBSC Exchange 2021 #lukanette #lukanette endgame #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #dragon!luka #cursed!marinette #fic title: playing with fire

[ku-ro-kai]

Lust at first bite

This was inspired by Trevor and sypha from the series Castlevania- personality wise so on

This is a one-shot★

Warning;fluff and angst,sexual tension, blood drinking, heat mentioned,missionary, squirting, praise kink, manipulation,aphrodisiacs, blood, multiple orgasm

He's been sneaking and stealing looks for too long, he's grown tired of it despite his small attempts at gifts he's been getting the nyphms to deliver or trying dispatch a plan in starting a conversation with you without being killed.

To his castle before the huntresses and witches hunt him down, touya was from a Royal bloodline of vampires. He's been going out every sunset in looks for his favorite huntress

She wasn’t like the other huntress’s in his eyes.

He had come to her in the middle of the night,he was looking for fresh virgin blood,he found you out on a night stroll.

He recognized you from flyers that he would come across when wondering in abandoned villages. He came to the conclusion you weren’t no ordinary boring huntress.

You were different,unique is what he would say, your family tree was dangerous to other creatures,coming from witches and huntsman.

(A month ago)

His father warned him about your family,beware of them, don’t never go by the (L/N) markings in the woods,every creature thought your family tree was killed off.

You were out getting fresh air,you couldn’t stand being in rooms with other huntresses and huntsmen, they envied your family,despite their hate for you,there was no escaping the headmasters.your family payed their debt years ago,why were they still inviting you to these silly meetings.

You heard a low groan from behind you,a annoyed sigh left your lips”At this time,show your face”.

Dabi thought you were some stuck up whore at first, “what if I don’t want too?”Gonna skin me and turn me into boots”

You turned around to face the unknown man ,he looked like a victim of fire,ebony hair that was spiked from front to back, blue eyes that sparkled like the ocean on a full moon,he was dressed down to toe in leather ,only a upside cross hanging from his neck,fingers covered in all different metallic silver rings, ones with diamonds,rubies and sapphires.

“Who exactly are you and how’d you get passed the barrier ?”

“You’re barrier is a piece of shit ,sorry darling I just don’t state my name to any stranger."

"It's like that with you vampires? Stuck up"

"Feisty, you huntsman look down on the rest of the world and expect everyone to get on their knees and praise you"

"You monsters have curses put on y'all,so you take your anger out on the huntresses and huntsman,since we hunt you down"

Dabi rubbed his chin, you weren't wrong,if anything he would do anything to take this curse off and have a normal body.

"You're a very stubborn human"

"You're one to talk"

A small chuckle came out, dabi was a man of many lies but he couldn't lie that you weren't an interesting huntress, maybe his favorite out of the ones he met in his life.

"I'll spare your life this time darling but if we come across again, there will be no mercy"

You never met a vampire like him before, he's cocky and comes with too much pride, A total prick.

"Same to you, just keep in mind that sneaking up to your prey comes with being completely silent"

You two parted ways that night and now he hasn't been able to get you off his mind

(Present)

He took you're words to heart, the sunset were his time to go see you.

Quietly hiding in the shadows, you were always out taking a stroll, did you not receive a good capture?

The headmasters have been keeping you stored away from missions,you were completely drowned out from all the drinks you spent at the tavern,only thing in that god forsaken castle was old people and moldy fruits.

You could proceed with skinning this annoyance of a vampire and receiving money

“Do you have nothing to do besides stalk me “

Dabi never understood how you could figure out how he was there,he was the best when it came to sneaking in the shadows,or so he thought.

“Your always walking around this area,I figured I’ll stop by”.

“You’ll be foolish to think I’ll believe that lie”

“Look my name is touya todoroki,first son to the King vampire Enji todoroki but refer to me as dabi for now “

That name was catching like wildfire when you were younger,it was a story of a little vampire boy playing by himself in the mountains near a peasant village ,his father made him go up there if he couldn’t make a flame change it’s color to blue.The boy was too careless with the way he would shoot his fires into trees ,as in result,he struck a branch, that caught half the village on fire ending with getting stuck under a large burning oak tree.Some say he hunted the woods looking in revenge for his father,others say he was in search of better body.

“I’m (name),how long have you’ve been living on your own since the forest fire “

“ for 210 years, it took months for my body to get used to staples"

You had guilt in your eyes,he always saw this in his victim's face when he would suck them dry,the stares he got from their cold,decaying corpse. He loved that look

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think" he snapped.

"Hey no need to get rude" you looked at the full moon, maybe this prick of a vampire could help you with a drink "dabi wanna go out for a drink"

He looked you dead in the eye "with you? No thanks, trying to finesse me out of my money, I knew you huntresses weren't always good out if the bunch"

"I guess we are both liars than, well I'll just take my leave, if you wanna suck my blood I'll be at the blue soul lake"

You walked away into the forest

"Why that specific area- it's hunted by witches"

"Not the big bad vampire being scared of witches"

"Who the hell said I was scared, if anything I'm just concerned why that cursed part of the forest"

"That cursed place is my home"

Blue soul lake was wretched area, swarming with witches and witchcraft. The only thing is that place is good for is the glowing lake that only shines on a full moon.

"My father told about that place, used to be ritual when witches would bring kids, kill them, sacrifice them to whatever God you nut jobs believed in and kept the skulls and eyes for gross potions. What do y'all do now, pretend to be gypsies"

You chuckled at him "no we don't do anything out of that kind, I just live there because I love the way the lake shines at night and because I grew up there"

Dabi didn't understand why you would just invite a vampire to your house as if it's the normal, he could care less,long as he can be near you, you made him feel whole again, maybe because he hasn't gotten a load off in awhile, where you good at massages?, he could make you queen, give you children and regain his body back with your weird passed down powers

He wasn't thinking right, make you queen? Breed you? Spend the rest of eternity with you? He surely wasn't in love with some thorn in the side huntress,that's below him.

"Dabi why do wear the rings and what's with the silly name"

He got embarrassed, hiding his face “it’s not silly “

"It’s a little silly"

He turned back facing you,you’re warm smile brought him comfort

“The rings are from my mother, she gave all my siblings rings”

“Ah you royals always have the easy life ahead”

“You could say that , I’ll probably still have my body back if it weren’t for my father”

“I guess the stories were right”

“I hate him , I can’t stand to even look myself in the mirror when I remember I used to look like him”

Awkward silence was there for a while

“I could've easily snapped your neck when we first met"

"Why didn't you do it"

"You intrigued me"

"Not me catching your interest -what now you want me to be your queen"

"If if weren't for your cocky mouth,you could be heir to the throne of my queen"

"you like me?!"

"I'll kill where you stand"

You covered your smile with your cape.

"you didn't say no"

Dabi turned away to hide his blushing, you were a silly little thing with the ability to have him head over heels in love with you. You were just food to him now he has to deal with red swallowing his face and this shaking feelings in his chest.

You two reached your home-it wasn't too bad, A little snags and there, he could probably fix it with a little magic, too his disappointment you didn't have nothing crazy going on- it's cozy and warm

He picks up a picture "nice place you got here darling-a little sad there isn't hearts in jars and a shit load of strange plants"

"Are all vampires like this? Assuming all witch descent are into witchcraft"

"Must be the huntsman genes"

Dabi put the picture in his suit pocket, he continued walking around your house coming across from a family tree of pictures

"Dabi what's it like living like a vampire?”

“It’s quite fun,scaring frisky young ones comes with the job,sucking blood all night long is the dream,don’t have to worry about dying since I can live for centuries also the garlic shit is a myth"

You carry a bottle of holy water out "how mad would you be if I sprayed this on you"

"Try me"

After running, what seemed about an hour, you came to a stop leaving you panting on top of the stairs"you sly bastard" your clothes were tattered and scattered all around your house

Dabi covered a burned mark of you splashing him in holy water " just wanted to mark you as mine and only mine, what do you say doll? Wanna come back and live with me"

Dabi show case devilish smile was vacant , now a show of hostile in his face

“What if I come across that corner and bite that neck of yours (name)”

His voice was calm but his demeanor was sinister.you could see red gleaming in his eyes

You saw a flash of black,now you ended up upstairs in the middle of the hallway on your back with vampire in the crook of your neck ,his keen fangs edging on your vital

"...your the devil touya"

He licked a long stripe on your neck, now placing kisses on your jaw "if I'm the devil you must be the devil's woman huh" he let out a raspy chuckle, he lifted your thighs up" your something else you know that (name),Do you get off to me to trying to kill you " he moved to the side staring at the wet mark on your neck.

He licked a long stripe on your neck, now placing kisses on your jaw "if I'm the devil you must be the devil's woman huh" he let out a raspy chuckle, he lifted your thighs up" your something else you know that (name),Do you get off to me to trying to kill you " he moved to the side staring at the wet mark on your neck.

"Dabi why is it so hot" you tried to push him off you but he wouldn't budge

"Don't worry doll, the aphrodisiacs are doing that" dabi ran his hands around your waist"those huntsman have treated you so badly, don't you wanna get revenge"

"Yes... But"

Your body was burning in the inside, how did he get his hands on aphrodisiacs? Did he sneak something on his tongue

"Dabi-please" at this point you were begging to have some sort intimacy

He took your face in his hand "but what? Together we can be unstoppable, a powerful couple, rule over kingdoms although You would look better holding my children in that stomach of yours " he ripped your tattered clothes off with ease" all you gotta say is yes darling "

"Yes, fuck yes -please dabi"

His clothes were vacant, you felt something hard press against your outer lips, you begin grinding on to his cock

Your being such a needy bitch in heat" his length closing around your walls like a fitted glove,in such a slow manner ,now accompanied by him placing a hand on the bulge poking in your stomach”your such a good huntress doll, now your becoming my prize possession, mind to ravish every night and every day" he was half way in your pussy,groaning at how tight you are "for a pesky girl, your cunt is perfect".

Dabi got closer to the stained mark on your neck, placing hickes all over it. His thoughts were clouded with marking you as his,nobody can touch you with their filthy hands again .

He pressed his fingers against your throbbing clit, soft rubbing making you walls clench around his shaft.

He pulled out, letting out a deep grunt only to plunge himself with a hard thrust, his tip pushing against your womb.

You let out a groan feeling a sharp pain,his keen nails clawing at your waist, watching your blood pouring out on to floor. The pleasure mixed with the pain sending over the edge,he went a couple thrust before cumming releases a raspy moan,dabi took his fingers licking off your blood.

"You taste just as good too" you heard coming down from your high, dabi pulled out uncovering his seed soaking out, he put your legs over his shoulders "wait dabi" you felt his fangs graze your pearl "don't order me around (name)" you jolted when his two fingers went inside your sopping pussy

He pressed the flat of his tongue on your clit with his fingers working on sending you into another orgasm. The Flicking of his tongue and the curling on that gummy spot, sucking on your inner lips with a small pop.

You couldn't hold it, your juices spraying you and dabi face. "What a slut you are doll" he licked his lips watching you pass out from exhaustion

You woke up in room that didn't belong to you, dressed in a beautiful chemist,with a robe hanging off your shoulders .there was pain in the side of your neck, two swollen puncture holes. you had a aquamarine necklace and blood red ring in your hands,the sounds of the fire popping and cracking on the side of your chair. "dabi?" you called out,hearing steps coming into the room behind you.

"Yes doll" "where are we and what did you do to me" he went over to the fire place to throw in some more wood, a navy blue half buttoned down shirt with black tuxedo pants,he was holding a glass in his hand,the liquid in the cup was too murky to be wine "If I can recall you said yes to staying with me or were the drugs that powerful to have you say anything" you remember saying agreeing to staying with but that doesn't excuse the pain in your neck

"My neck?"

"I had to for the sake of you staying with me,if you continued remaining a human I would've"accidentally" took your blood"

"What about the huntress and huntsman looking for you!"

"I killed them, you were sleep for about a month, for the remaining time I put up warnings to stay away from the castle, would hate to have humans killing our children"

Thank you for reading💖, I will be taking a small break for a while after I post my headcannons

#dabi #dabi x you #stalker dabi #dabi x reader