#posting from the enchanted forest
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
wiseoldoaktree · 10 days ago
Text
Are you??? Aware of the fact?????? That all the tress can judge you??? DO YOU KNOW THAT?????
3 notes · View notes
chimyku · 5 months ago
Text
Listening to "Chain Girl" by Noboru (it's such a lovely song, especially the -Re Alive- version!) and I can't help thinking that it suits Jelsa so much lolol (I love relating everything to Jelsa). It could be like, a story of their journey before they met each other, you know?! Like, pre-coronation Elsa to fifth spirit, and pre-guardian Jack to guardian Jack.
Read under the cut if you want to see more Jelsa yapping lol
Tumblr media
Elsa has been isolated in her room for so long, so this lyric suits her perfectly. I mean, she does know the reason why, but technically, she doesn't know why she had her powers at that point in time (pre-coronation), so I think it counts XD.
Tumblr media
This lyric reminds me of Jack this time because I remember the scene where he was looking up at the moon, with him telling the Man in the Moon the least he could do is tell him why he's been brought back to life (correct me if I'm wrong, I could be misremembering XD). So technically, it's like his course has been set by the MIM.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And lastly, these lyrics could refer to them finally finding their callings?!?! (Elsa as the fifth spirit of the Enchanted forest and Jack as the Guardian of Fun).
Lol sorry for this random song analysis I just really love both Chain Girl and Jelsa 😭💖
Link to the song:
youtube
With subtitles:
youtube
10 notes · View notes
colouredbyd · 2 months ago
Text
The Secret's Out
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
poly!marauders x fem!reader
summary: When a familiar red panda keeps appearing during full moons and stolen afternoons, the Marauders can't help but feel like they're being watched. But when a single accident unravels the truth, they discover that their elusive companion is much closer to their hearts than they realized.
warnings: fluff, animagus secrecy, fluffy moments, slow-burn tension, unspoken feelings, hints of angst, fluffy ending. technically part of a blurb series but can be read alone
w/c: 5k (this was supposed to be a drabble)
a/n: flicker is so <3
part of my mini blurb series Flicker's Adventures
masterlist
Tumblr media
You weren’t exactly proud of how long you’d kept it hidden.
It had started as an experiment—an idea that had tumbled into your head after one too many late-night discussions with Remus about Animagi. He always talked about it with a sort of reverence, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the spines of dusty library books, eyes distant with the flicker of moonlight. You’d been enchanted with the idea. A secret shape. A second self. Something you could slip into like water, effortless and soft.
But you’d never intended for it to become…this.
The first time you transformed, it was clumsy and half-formed. Paws that didn’t quite fit right, ears that twitched with every sound, like you were listening to the whole world all at once. You barely managed to change back, sprawled out in the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest with twigs stuck in your hair and dirt smeared across your cheeks. But it got easier. Night after night, you practiced alone, curling up at the base of trees or darting between shadows, soft and silent.
It was thrilling. Until it wasn’t.
Because the Marauders, for all their brilliance and their utter inability to mind their own business, had a knack for being everywhere you weren’t supposed to be. And it was only a matter of time before the encounters began.
They had been your best friends since fourth year, and over time, things had shifted, melted, molded into something beautiful and far more complicated. Sharing breakfast meant pressing soft kisses to sleepy cheeks. Studying in the library meant James playing with your hair while Sirius sprawled with his head in Remus’s lap. It was easy, and you loved them fiercely, just as fiercely as they loved you.
But you had secrets too.
The first time, it had been easy to avoid them. You’d been curled up in your Animagus form, nestled atop a low branch near the Black Lake. The sun had been warm, and you’d let yourself drift, tail flopped lazily over the edge like a banner of red silk, swaying gently with each breeze that whispered through the treetops.
You had always loved transforming during the quiet hours. When the grounds were empty, and the lake shimmered under the light of the sun, it was your time to breathe—to be just a flicker of red in the trees, untethered and unseen. You’d never been caught before. Not once. You knew how to blend in, how to become nothing more than a flash of red fur and shadows. But that day, you’d let your guard down.
When the footsteps crunched over dead leaves, you barely had time to snap awake, your heart seizing with panic. You scrambled upright, claws gripping the bark as you peered through the thicket of branches. Just beyond the edge of the lake, James and Sirius barreled into view, laughing and tossing a Quaffle between them, voices carrying in that easy, careless way they always did. They were still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, mud-splattered and windblown, clearly just back from practice. Their cheeks were flushed from the cold, eyes bright with that post-game adrenaline.
They looked almost painfully perfect in the sunlight. Sirius’s hair was wild, catching the light with every toss of his head, while James wore that familiar, untamed grin, glasses askew but somehow still perfectly him. You couldn’t help but watch, tucked away in the shadows, your tiny heart hammering as you watched them joke and shove at each other like children.
“What was that?”
James had stopped short, hand frozen mid-toss as his eyes squinted through the sunlight. He stepped forward, brow furrowing as he peered into the trees. “I swear I saw something.”
Sirius just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder with an exaggerated huff. “You’re losing it, love. Probably just a squirrel.”
“A red squirrel? That big? Nope.” James shook his head stubbornly, still squinting, his eyes scanning the thicket where you were tucked. You flattened yourself against the branch, curling your tail around your body like a shield. For a moment, your eyes locked with his, and you froze, heart leaping to your throat.
But Sirius had already moved on, still tossing the Quaffle back and forth as he wandered down the trail, oblivious. “C’mon, Prongs. We’re supposed to meet Remus and dovey at the library, remember? If you’re gonna start jumping at shadows, at least make it something interesting. Like a dragon.”
James huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he finally turned away. “You’re a menace, Pads.”
“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”
As they wandered away, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, claws still gripping the bark with tension. But then—
“Oi! Hold up,” Sirius called, suddenly pausing mid-step. He squinted back towards the tree you were nestled in. “You know, I’ve never seen something that red. Not even the squirrels.”
Before you could move, James stepped forward, eyes wide with wonder. “Holy shit. Siri, it’s… it’s adorable.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside him. His grin split wide, and before you could so much as twitch, his hand shot out and scooped you right off the branch. “Gotcha!”
You squealed—an embarrassing little chirp—and squirmed in his grasp, claws scrabbling against his arm, but Sirius only laughed. “Bloody hell, Jamie, look at it! What is it? Some kind of magical raccoon?”
James reached out, petting your head like you weren’t currently panicking, and cooed. “Nah, I think it’s some sort of fox. But not any kind I’ve seen before.”
You wriggled harder, desperate to get away, and with a burst of strength, you twisted right out of Sirius’s hands and shot off toward the trees. You heard their shouts behind you—“Merlin’s sake, it’s fast!”—and the pounding of footsteps as they tried to follow. But you were quick, darting between trunks and under bushes until their voices faded.
Panting, you finally stopped in the shadow of a tree, ears perked as you listened for them. From the distance, you heard Sirius laugh. “Like a bloody flicker of light. Fast as hell, did you see that?”
James’s voice was loud with awe. “We should name it. Something quick.”
“Flicker it is,” Sirius agreed, still laughing. “Wonder if we’ll see it again.”
You slumped back against the trunk, heart hammering but… strangely warmed. Flicker. If only they knew.
The second time you crossed paths with them, you weren’t so lucky.
It was a lazy Saturday morning, the air crisp with the promise of autumn, and you were in your Animagus form, sneaking your way towards the kitchens for a pilfered biscuit or two. You’d become somewhat of a regular visitor—house-elves didn’t seem to mind, and there was always something fresh and warm to snatch. This morning, it was shortbread, still steaming and dusted with sugar. You snagged a piece in your tiny paws, nibbling at the edges with a pleased hum.
Just as you were about to make your way back to the common room, a familiar set of voices echoed down the hall. You barely had time to scamper beneath a long, linen-draped table before James and Sirius strolled in, Remus trailing behind them, looking a bit more tired than usual. Sirius had his arm slung around James, animatedly describing some outrageous Quidditch maneuver while James nodded along, spinning his wand between his fingers.
“I’m just saying, I think it’s got to be a magical creature,” James insisted, flicking his wand absentmindedly so sparks danced at the tip. “Nothing else looks like that. That tail? Come on.”
Sirius chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re just upset it didn’t stick around for tea.”
Remus, who had been quiet up to this point, raised an eyebrow. “You two are still on about that red thing?”
“Flicker,” James corrected, grinning like he’d just found a new species. “And yes. Pads said it himself—like a flicker of red. It’s the perfect name.”
Sirius gave a wicked grin, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Prongs nearly cried when it ran off. Thought he’d never see it again.”
“I did not cry!” James retorted, his face flushing. “I was just—invested. It’s not every day you find a creature that cute wandering the grounds.”
Remus hummed thoughtfully, but his lips twitched upward. “Maybe it’s someone’s familiar. Or just a stray. Magical creatures don’t usually stick around unless they’re attached to someone.”
James pouted. “But it was too cute to be random. And the way it just bolted—it was like it knew we were coming.”
Sirius laughed. “Maybe it’s smarter than you, James. Didn’t want to be manhandled by an overexcited Gryffindor.”
You couldn’t help the amused little chitter that slipped out, your small nose twitching as you watched them from the shadows. But your distraction made your paw slip, sending a nearby spoon clattering to the ground. Instantly, three heads snapped in your direction.
“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius drawled, eyes twinkling with delight. “Caught in the act.”
Your heart leapt into your throat as you scrambled backward, accidentally knocking over a pile of napkins in your haste.
Remus took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing as he peered under the table. “Is that…?”
Before he could finish, you bolted out from beneath the table, biscuit still clutched between your teeth. You heard James yelp, and Sirius let out a loud bark of laughter.
“Flicker!” James shouted, immediately dropping to his knees to try and catch you. “Wait! It’s you!”
Sirius lunged for you as well, hands outstretched, but you twisted just in time, skidding around the table leg and darting towards the door. Your heart pounded, adrenaline surging as you made a break for it.
Remus was quicker than you expected. He sidestepped into your path, his hands moving down to scoop you up, but you ducked just in time, sliding beneath a nearby chair. He let out a soft chuckle, clearly more amused than upset. “I don’t think it wants to be caught, lads.”
James practically whined. “But it’s so fast! Merlin, how’s it moving like that?”
You made a daring leap onto a nearby shelf, perching precariously on the edge as you looked down at the boys. James and Sirius both looked up, wide-eyed, as if they’d never seen anything more precious.
Sirius grinned, hands on his hips. “Smart little thing. Knows how to stay out of trouble.”
James glanced at Remus, eyes bright. “Do you think we could tame it? I mean, if we brought it food or something…”
Remus shook his head, though he was smiling. “James, I don’t think ‘taming’ wild animals is advisable.”
Sirius snorted. “Especially when it’s faster than you, Prongs. You might have to start bribing it instead.”
You shifted your weight, trying to balance, but your grip slipped, and you tumbled right off the shelf—directly into Remus’s waiting arms. He caught you with surprising gentleness, blinking down at you in astonishment.
“Merlin’s beard,” he murmured, holding you carefully. “You’re… really soft.”
You froze, heart hammering as his thumb brushed over your fur. James crept closer, his face lighting up. “Moony! You caught it!”
Remus held you securely but didn’t squeeze, his touch far gentler than you’d expected. “It’s not trying to get away now. I think I scared it into submission.”
Sirius ruffled James’s hair, smirking. “Told you Moony’s got that calming effect. Even on weird little red animals.”
James’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know who would love this? Y/N. She’s always going on about how she wants a pet—imagine her with this little thing. She’d lose her mind.”
Sirius laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. She’d probably carry it around everywhere. Spoil it rotten.”
Remus chuckled, glancing back down at you. “Maybe we should introduce them.”
Your tiny heart skipped a beat, the mention of your own name nearly making you squirm. But you stayed still, hoping that somehow, they’d let you go before they realized just how close they already were to the truth.
As they continued debating who got to hold you next, you remained perfectly still, your tiny heart racing. You’d nearly been caught—and worse, you were currently in Remus’s arms, with no safe escape. If they suspected anything, your secret would be out.
But for now, you stayed put, hoping that somehow, you’d manage to slip away before they figured it all out.
And somehow, you always did.
The encounters with the Marauders continued, flickering moments in the shadows of the castle grounds, the edges of the Forbidden Forest, even the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room on particularly stormy nights. They never figured out who—or rather, what—you truly were, and you never stopped watching over them from your tiny, furred form.
Over time, it became routine. They’d spot you darting across the courtyard or perched on a low branch, and instead of startling, they would wave you over with scraps of food and gentle hands. Sirius started smuggling bits of chocolate for you, swearing it was good for "keeping up your energy," while James would leave small pieces of toast wrapped in napkins where he knew you’d find them.
Remus, though, was different. He’d sit beside you sometimes, long after the others had wandered off, his eyes thoughtful and his voice low as he spoke about things that clearly weighed on him. It almost felt like he knew—like he sensed something familiar in the way you stayed close, unflinching and steady, when his voice cracked or his hands shook.
And so it went on, this quiet companionship between you and the Marauders—secrets nestled within secrets, hidden in plain sight.
But secrets, you knew, had a way of surfacing eventually.
And the thread of secrecy is thin—fraying at the edges, whispering of unraveling. Not all lies are meant to last.
You padded through the underbrush of the Forbidden Forest under the pale glow of the full moon, paws light against the damp earth. Countless times before, you had narrowly avoided discovery, slipping through shadows and ducking under roots before any of the boys could see you. But tonight felt different. Tonight, you were pressing your luck, and you knew it.
The forest stretched wide and endless around you, the scent of pine and moss clinging to the air. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver webs across the forest floor. You moved carefully, silent as the mist curling at your feet, ears perked for the familiar sound of paws and heavy footsteps.
Because Remus was out here somewhere—prowling, restless, and wild. And you were not supposed to be here.
But you always were.
It had become a ritual, almost. When the full moon crept up on the horizon, you would follow at a distance, paws treading softly through shadow and light, keeping him within your line of sight. You were careful—so careful—to stay hidden. To remain nothing more than a flicker of red fur between the branches, a whisper of movement in the dark.
You didn’t do it because you doubted him. Not really. Remus was strong, stronger than most gave him credit for. His quiet nature masked a resilience that ran deep, carved out from years of learning to live with the curse that twisted his bones beneath the light of the full moon. You had seen it in the way he carried himself: back straight, chin lifted, even when shadows pooled beneath his eyes and his hands shook just a little more as the days crept closer.
But you also knew the weight he carried, the way his shoulders slumped a little lower as the moon grew fuller. The others saw it too, though they masked their worry with jokes and banter, their own kind of armor against the ache of helplessness.
You trusted Sirius and James. Of course you did. You trusted the way Sirius, with his sleek fur and boundless energy as Padfoot, stuck close to Remus's side. His massive form hovered protectively near, always ready to intercept any threat. And you trusted James, with his proud and unyielding presence as Prongs. His antlers cut through the shadows like moonlit knives, always circling, always watching. They were a seamless unit, fierce and unwavering, guarding their boyfriend with an intensity that rivaled the very stars.
But even so, you followed. Not because you feared they would fail him, but because you knew that sometimes even the fiercest protectors could not hold back the tide. You followed because you understood the way Remus's breaths came out ragged and sharp when the change began, the way his eyes, so often warm and gentle, burned with something uncontainable under the weight of the moon.
You followed not out of fear, but out of love. You needed to see it for yourself, needed to know that he was not alone. Because some secrets, even the best-kept ones, are born from the deepest affections.
You weren’t even supposed to be here. The full moon wasn’t exactly a secret—not to you, not to the boys, not to anyone who paid attention to Remus Lupin’s mysterious disappearances every month. And while Remus had been open about it with you—raw and vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache—Sirius and James had insisted you stay far, far away from the Forest during transformations. For your own safety, they said. For his.
They didn’t know that you had a secret of your own. They didn’t know you were perfectly capable of watching over Remus without the risk of getting torn apart. Because, well…they didn’t know you were an Animagus. And certainly not a red panda of all things.
But you’d always been stubborn, and you hated being shut out. So, here you were, paws barely making a sound against the forest floor, your tiny body slipping between shadows as you followed the familiar scent of musk and pine.
Tonight was different, though. The moon hung heavy and full, casting its silver light over the trees as you crept towards the edge of the Shrieking Shack, your heart pounding in your tiny chest. You had watched the transformation from the shadows, hidden and silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. It always did—eventually.
The howls had stopped. That was your sign.
Cautiously, you scurried through the cracks of the shack, slipping inside just as the silence grew thicker, heavier. Remus was there, sprawled out on the dusty wooden floor, still shivering from the aftermath of the transformation. His skin was pale, marred with fresh cuts and old scars, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to catch his breath.
You stayed hidden at first, tucked away in the shadowed corner of the room, watching with a quiet intensity. You were careful, always careful, as you slipped in unnoticed. The silence between your breaths stretched long as you waited. You needed to see him again. To be sure. He was okay. Alive. The simple reassurance of that truth was always the reason you came. It didn’t matter how many times you had witnessed it before, you still found yourself drawn here, drawn to him, like some unspoken promise you couldn’t shake. And yet, even after all this time, you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to let go of the gnawing fear that one day, it would all be gone. That one day, it would be too late.
And then it happened.
A small movement in the corner of your vision—the slightest shift in the air. You turned your head sharply, eyes narrowing. It was quick. A fleeting blur that seemed far too deliberate for your liking. Something so small, but still enough to spike your pulse with a jolt of panic. You froze, your eyes darting from one shadow to the next, until the source of the movement became clear. A spider—its legs long and thin, its body barely a shadow against the worn wooden floor. You held your breath for a second, staring at the creature as it crept closer with an eerie calm.
Even in your Animagus form, the instinct was immediate. Fear licked at the back of your throat, and before you could even stop yourself, a sharp, startled squeak escaped your lips. The sound was completely unexpected, startling even to you. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, and within seconds, you sprang backward, your claws scraping desperately against the wooden floorboards in an effort to distance yourself. The panic that washed over you was raw, unfiltered. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged, your muscles tensing in reflex.
“...Flicker?” Sirius’s voice was the first to break the tension, disbelief coloring every syllable. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, sprawled out on the floor, fur still fluffed up from the fright.
James was next, practically stumbling over his own feet as he stepped forward, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “What the bloody hell is Flicker doing here?!” His voice was sharp, edged with that familiar note of exasperation that you knew all too well.
The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, everything going unnaturally still as his words hung in the air.
You froze, your entire body tensing at the sound of his voice, wide-eyed and terrified. Every instinct screamed at you to retreat, to disappear, to vanish back into the shadows where it was safe. But it was too late. There was no hiding now. The room had shifted, all eyes now on you, and you could feel their gazes like physical weight pressing down on your fur. Panic rose in your chest, tightening around your throat like a vise.
Before you could react, Remus, still lying on the floor, managed to crack open one eye. Even in his obvious pain, there was something in his gaze—softness, tenderness—that cut through the whirlwind of panic in your mind. 
His lips parted in a slow, weak smile, and the warmth in his voice was unmistakable, soothing against the raw nerves coursing through you. “Hey… come here,” he murmured, his voice rough but somehow gentle. Despite his struggle to move, his hand patted the floor beside him in invitation. “Can’t really move right now.”
The sound of his voice, that calming familiarity, reached you with a force far greater than the fear clawing at your insides. You hesitated, your ears twitching nervously, unsure of whether you should give in to that pull. But something about the way he looked at you—something in the way his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of affection and understanding—made it impossible to refuse. 
With careful, deliberate steps, you padded over to him, your paws light against the floor, though your heart pounded wildly in your chest. When you reached him, you curled up beside him, careful not to press too heavily against his wounded form. 
The space between you felt like a bridge you couldn’t quite cross fast enough, yet as soon as you were near, you felt his hand rest gently on your back. The touch was so light, so tender, it might have been a dream if it weren’t so real. You could feel his fingers brush against your fur, grounding you with every small movement.
James and Sirius, for all their confusion, exchanged bewildered looks across the room. They hadn’t expected this.
The air in the room grew thick with tension, all eyes still on you as you remained curled beside Remus, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to steady your breathing, but it was impossible. You could feel the weight of their stares, the confusion swirling between them like a storm just waiting to burst.
And then Remus chuckled. It was low, raspy, and yet the sound was warm, full of affection and something else—something that made your pulse skip. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours. For a moment, everything seemed to pause.
“I know it’s you,” he murmured, his voice soft but just loud enough for you to hear. There was no uncertainty in his tone, no hesitation. Only understanding. “You don’t have to keep hiding.”
The words felt like a shock to your system. Your breath caught in your throat. What? You stared at him, wide-eyed, your mind racing. How could he possibly know? How long had he known? You were about to ask, but before you could form the words, the rest of the room seemed to catch up to what Remus had said.
James blinked, his face a perfect picture of disbelief. “Wait… what?”
Sirius’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing in confusion and a growing sense of disbelief. “What do you mean? Know what?”
Remus laughed softly, a sound so full of warmth and knowing it almost made you want to shrink back into yourself. “Come on,” he whispered, giving a slight nod toward you, a knowing smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Reveal yourself.”
The room fell utterly still. The air crackled with that charged silence, the kind that comes just before something explosive happens. You hesitated, every nerve in your body on edge. The tension in the room was palpable, thick as smoke. For a moment, you thought you might be able to remain hidden, to stay in the safety of your animagus form, but Remus’s eyes were so full of trust, so full of that deep, quiet affection, that you couldn’t refuse him. Not now.
You took a shaky breath. You stepped back, slowly, tentatively, your paws scraping against the wood floor with every hesitant movement. And then, in one fluid motion, you transformed. Fur and claws gave way to skin and hands. The change was swift, almost disorienting, but before you knew it, you were standing before them, fully human, exposed, and vulnerable.
You could feel their eyes on you, wide and unblinking, trying to process the impossible. Remus's soft smile never wavered, his gaze warm and steady, a silent reassurance amid the storm of emotions swirling around you.
James was the first to break the silence, blinking as if trying to clear water from his eyes. “Merlin’s bloody beard! Flicker’s—You’re—” His voice pitched somewhere between awe and shock, hands still raised mid-gesture as if he had been frozen in time.
Sirius was not much better off. His jaw had practically hit the floor, his eyes impossibly wide. “That’s…how did…since when?!” His voice was high and incredulous, disbelief painting every syllable. His gaze flickered between you and Remus, a hundred questions bubbling just under the surface.
You stood there, cheeks flushed and heart thumping wildly, hands fiddling with the edge of your shirt. It felt surreal to be standing in front of them, exposed and vulnerable after months of hiding. You turned your gaze to Remus, the only one who seemed entirely unfazed. His eyes were gentle, crinkling at the corners as he regarded you with a sort of fondness that set your heart alight.
“Ever since you fell into my arms in the kitchen,” he said, voice soft and rich with nostalgia. “I smelled you. Even then, I knew.” His hand reached out, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, grounding you back into reality.
James let out a strangled laugh, half-disbelieving and half-amazed. “You mean this whole time…?”
Sirius’s eyes snapped back to Remus, his shock melting into something sharper. “Wait. Wait. You knew?” His voice grew louder, more animated. 
Remus blinked, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “Didn’t seem like the right moment to bring it up.”
Sirius’s expression turned comically affronted, his hands flying to his hips. “Not the right moment? Not the—Remus John Lupin, I am going to throttle you.” Without warning, Sirius dove at him, tackling Remus to the floor with surprising gentleness, considering his usual recklessness. Remus let out a soft grunt, half-laughing, half-protesting as Sirius pinned him down, grinning like a madman.
“Sirius!” he groaned, shaking his head, though there was affection in his tone. “I’m in pain, you know?”
But Sirius didn’t seem to care about that. He hovered over Remus, eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint you knew all too well. “You absolute bastard!” Sirius crowed, shaking him playfully. “You kept this from me? From us? Moony, we share everything! I tell you when I find a new freckle on my arse, but you can’t tell me Flicker is our darling girl?”
Remus chuckled, not bothering to fight back, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “You seemed happy enough with her as she was,” he teased, a glimmer of affection lighting up his gaze. “Didn’t want to ruin the magic.”
Remus’s laugh died down slightly as he met Sirius’s gaze, his expression turning a little more serious, though still soft. “I knew,” he admitted, voice quieter now, though it was filled with warmth. “I could smell it. I’m not just a werewolf, you know. My senses are… sharper than most.” He shifted slightly under Sirius, wincing as a wave of exhaustion hit him. “I’ve known ever since that night in the kitchen. And I just… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
Sirius, still hovering over him, raised an eyebrow. “A big deal? You kept this secret from me?” He gave Remus a playful shove, trying not to be too rough, but clearly finding the whole thing ridiculous. “Moony, you are a tease. But I guess you’re lucky I love you.”
Remus smiled up at him, his eyes soft with affection despite his exhaustion. “Lucky for me, then,” he whispered, reaching up to gently cup Sirius’s cheek.
James, who had been listening in, finally seemed to process what Remus had said. His face broke into a grin, and he shook his head in disbelief. He stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief, though his smile was growing by the second. 
“Unbelievable. I’ve been feeding you bits of toast under the table for months,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “You let me make a bloody fool of myself!”
Sirius finally released Remus—though not before ruffling his hair mercilessly—and turned his attention back to you. His eyes softened, grin turning fond. 
“Well, that explains why Flicker’s always been so damn cute. No wonder you were my favorite,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping you up in his arms without warning. You let out a squeak of surprise, but Sirius just squeezed you tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Our girl, huh? Been sneaking around all fluffy and adorable while we’ve been pouring our hearts out to you.”
James joined in, throwing his arms around both of you with a laugh. “I’ve been whispering my Quidditch strategies to you! Telling you all my secrets. Oh, you’ve played us brilliantly, haven’t you?”
You were laughing now, the sound spilling out of you unbidden and light, your hands curling into the fabric of their shirts as you squeezed back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you!” you giggled. “You were just…so sweet to me. I didn’t want it to end.”
Sirius scoffed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his hands still firm on your shoulders. “End? Are you joking? Now I get to sneak you bits of bacon and call it romance. You’ve upgraded our relationship, darling.”
James snorted, leaning back to ruffle your hair. “Honestly, it just makes me love you more. You absolute minx.” His hands found your waist, pulling you back into his chest with a grin. “And here I thought you just liked curling up in my lap because you were a needy little furball.”
Sirius gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait. This means…you heard everything, didn’t you?” He pulled back, eyes wide with a mix of horror and amusement. “All those times I talked to you about Moony and Prongs…oh, Merlin, I’m going to need to lie down.”
Remus, still sprawled on the floor, chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows. “You did tell her quite a bit,” he mused, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. “I was starting to wonder if you were sweet on our little Flicker.”
Sirius rolled his eyes but grinned shamelessly. “Oh, I am. And now I don’t have to feel weird about it.” He scooped you back into his arms, spinning you around once just for good measure before setting you down, his hands never leaving your waist. “I think this calls for a celebration. Butterbeer in the common room?”
James raised his hand. “And toast! For old times’ sake,” he added with a grin. “I’ve been feeding you scraps like you were some little stray, and it was you all along.”
Sirius chuckled, threading his arm around your waist as Remus finally got to his feet. “Merlin, I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Human or red panda, you’re ours. No more sneaking off, yeah?”
You smiled, feeling the warmth of their affection wrap around you like a blanket. “No more sneaking off,” you promised, and the three of them pulled you into their embrace, laughter and warmth spilling out into the room.
And for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to hide.
2K notes · View notes
immortalmrwavell · 22 days ago
Text
The Hike
(Original story posted May 23rd 2023) Minor edits and corrections
After about an hour or so of hiking, Adam had reached the foot of Mount Servus Masculus. He stared up at the mountain with a confident grin. “I’ve still got no idea what the locals were so scared of. This is gonna be easy..” He spouted cockily.
Over the years Adam had climbed numerous mountains both tall and dangerous, snowy and windy. He’d traveled all over the world climbing all kinds of different mountains and documenting his experiences. One day soon he even planned on getting to the peak of Everest! Compared to that and most other mountains he’d done recently, this ‘Mount Servus Masculus’ seemed like child’s play. Looking at it from where he was, he figured he’d be up and down it in no time. Yet none of the locals would dare go near the mountain let alone climb it. Apparently there was some strange superstition around it. Adam didn’t give it the time of day though. It was just your same old ‘Oooooh anyone that tried to climb it has never been seen again’ mumbo jumbo. He’d heard it all before. It didn’t scare him then and it wouldn’t scare him now.
The confident hiker took a swig of water from his bottle just before adjusting his pack and marching onwards. He followed along a path that seemed to lead through the trees that covered the lower half of the mountain. It was heavily overgrown with wildlife covering most of the path. Due to this it wasn’t long before Adam pulled out his machete and started hacking through all the thick brush blocking his way ahead. All the while he could hear birds and insects chirping around him in a song-like manner. It was kind of beautiful actually.
Adam pressed on until the path finally started to open up a little more, allowing his trusty machete to have a break. This also gave him a better chance to admire the scenery of the mountain’s forest. Once again he couldn’t think for life of him why everyone was so afraid of it. Everything was so lush and vibrant. The grass was so very green and the plants growing around the trees seemed to glitter with an array of so different colours. And the way the wind gently whistled through the air… it was so enchanting. It almost made him wish he lived here. But he had to continue on.
Before long he found himself reaching the edge of lower forest and entering a rockier part of the mountain. He could tell there were more trees further up but he’d need to climb a little before getting there. That said, even as he escaped the beauty of the forest below, that wind continued to swirl around him in a strange manner. Whistling even clearer now in a way that could only be described as a melody of nature. He was so encapsulated by the sound that he’d failed to notice how his previously baggy clothes had begun to feel much tighter around the seams…
The path forward had become much clearer now with a winding trail that gradually led Adam further up the mountain. As he wandered along the trail, it felt as though an invisible hand was tugging him along. Encouraging him to keep walking. Encouraging him to reach the top of the mountain because doing so would make him feel oh so good. Encouraging him to take off his backpack and leave it on the side of the trail. He dropped it without a second thought, not even acknowledging the wide array of other backpacks lying around the area discarded. The song only wove itself deeper as it encouraged Adam to slip off his waterproof coat next, reasoning that it was far too warm for that…
At some point he found himself looking down to see he’d taken off not only his coat but also the jacket underneath, leaving him in just a tight black t-shirt. The fabric of which stretched tight across a plump pair of pecs that hadn’t existed before. Not to mention how Adam’s sleeves had begun to ride up his growing biceps as the shirt groaned under the size of his expanding back and shoulders. He should’ve been freezing cold without the rest of his layers on and yet the wind swirling around him was just so warm and relaxing. It was like the higher he climbed, the hotter the air became. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him that this wasn’t normal but the whispers of wind only told him to keep walking. To keep climbing. To keep growing. And he listened.
With every step he took, Adam’s muscles pulsed. Bulking and ballooning with new mass. His whole body grew thicker and stronger until the wind whispered at him again. Telling him to rip off that useless shirt. He wouldn’t need it where he was going.
“Ggguuraaaahhh!” Adam let out a deep roar as he gripped the centre of his shirt and tore it wide open before tossing the remains on the ground. He let out a small grunt before continuing his ascent up the mountain.
He didn’t know when it’d happened but at some point he’d also taken off his boots and socks. Leaving him walking along the mountain trail barefoot. Now all that was left was a threateningly tight pair of trousers and underwear. But soon enough, as he reached what looked to be an old bridge that stretched over a creek, Adam found himself compelled once again to strip. The song of the mountain winds commanded it. He complied without hesitation, tugging off his trousers and leaving them on the side of the path. He crossed to the other side of the bridge in nothing but a tight pair of blue underwear that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Eventually Adam found himself face to face with a wall of boulders. It didn’t seem as though the trail continued any other way around it which could only mean that his one option was to rock climb. And climb he did. Making sure to get a good grip with both his hands and feet on each sturdy piece of rock before pushing himself higher. Getting closer and closer to the top.
Tumblr media
Once again part of his rational mind screamed at him, saying that doing this without any of his gear whatsoever was not only weird but extremely dangerous! But deep down he somehow knew that the warm comforting winds swirling around him at all times would keep him safe. And so he shook off any silly doubts before continuing to climb. Feeling the air around him grow stronger the higher he went.
Tumblr media
Soon enough Adam found himself having somehow scaled the entire wall of rock. As he did, he turned and looked towards the Sun in the distance as it shone bright upon the land below. He couldn’t help but smile. “Be free.” the wind whispered to him softly. Then without a second thought he reached down and yanked his underwear off. Holding them in his hand for a moment before tossing them off the ledge and watching as they blew away. Just like what would soon happen to the last of his free will.
For just a moment Adam felt the strange wind disperse and was immediately hit with a wave of clarity. “W-what the fuck am I doing and- My body!? What happened to me!?” Adam screamed in confusion as his cock flopped between his legs. He couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around what was happening. Not only as to why the hell he naked but also to how the fuck he’d gotten so buff! His arms were so thick and powerful with muscle that bulged with every movement. His back and shoulders had broadened significantly and his chest had grown into a pair of prominent muscle tits with an incredibly sensitive pair of nipples to match. It was insane! Even his ass had expanded into a huge bubble butt now! And as crazy as it all was, he couldn’t help but stop and admire his new and improved form.
Tumblr media
His admiration of his newly sculpted body was soon cut short however as the wind rushed back in an instant, sending Adam straight back into trance. This time it felt as though an invisible pair of lips had wrapped themselves around his cock and were sucking on it gently as they guided him slowly towards an opening in the second forest higher up the mountain. Almost like he was being tugged along by his dick while being sucked off. Of course the enchanted Adam didn’t question this one bit as he allowed his cock to lead the way. All the while failing to notice how, despite being fully hard, his manhood still seemed to be growing longer and thicker.
Unlike when he’d made his way through the forest lower, a clear pathway made itself visible through the trees. Leaves and branches actively moving out of Adam’s way without him having to lift a finger. It was as if they were alive. Now allowing him easy passage to continue ascending until he reached where the wind was taking him. The peak.
He walked for about an hour, having his new monster dick edged constantly the whole way. Only after all that did Adam finally reach an opening in the forest. He’d reached the top of the mountain it seemed and what he saw was something nobody would’ve believed had they not seen it with their own eyes.
There was an entire community of hunky naked men!
Some of them were simply lying around, displaying their bodies, others were actively flexing and admiring themselves while a few were straight up fucking each other raw and filling one another’s holes with their cum. Ordinarily this would’ve been enough to have Adam running for the hills but the wind reassured him that this was all normal. That he belonged here now. He silently complied before walking into the testosterone filled camp, his hard sensitive cock bobbing up and down with every step.
“Ah there you are. Adam is it?” Called a somewhat familiar voice. Adam turned his head to see a man sitting on what looked to be some kind of throne. He was a naked hunk just like all the other men and was currently being worshipped by two other hulking meatheads. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. It’s been about a year since we’ve had any fresh meat.” He continued. That’s when it hit Adam. This man. It was him. The whole time. The voice whispering in his ear. The wind telling him what to do and think. It was all him! “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll feel right at home around here soon enough.”
Every ounce of what was left of Adam’s free will was screaming out in distress. Telling him to get away as fast as possible. Yet his body wouldn’t move. Only continuing to stand before this king of hunks with the biggest hard on of his life. Unfortunately for Adam however, this man wasn’t a king but rather a powerful wizard and as such was able to hear all the inner thoughts his new recruit was having.
“Oh? You’re still resisting?” The man said as if it were comical. “Boys. Drain him dry.” He commanded and just like that the two men that’d been worshipping him turned to face Adam with lustful grins on their faces before immediately getting to work. Kissing, licking and groping every inch of Adam’s body while they teased him with their own. He tried to resist as much as he could but when one of them started waving their fat muscle ass in front of him, he just couldn't stop himself from slamming his cock inside!
“That’s it boy! Drain those balls and your free will along with em!” The wizard shouted and with all the edging Adam had already received, that encouragement was all he needed. Moments later Adam let out an almost animalistic roar as he blew the fattest load of his life while simultaneously submitting to this hunky wizard. Any will of his own was now completely erased and replaced with nothing but thoughts of muscular men, dicks and ass. He was now cursed to be a dumb horny himbo on top of this mountain for the rest of his life. Breeding and being bred to no end. That was his purpose now.
183 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 8 months ago
Text
Crimson Lovers • KSJ
Tumblr media
Pairing: Seokjin x reader
SUMMARY: “I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” Jin whispered into your lips like a promise. If it weren't for your lust addled mind, you'd believe him. “You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”
Or alternatively, your friend’s only solution to you being a broke college student with a family to feed is to attend a private feeding party where the most affluent vampires are in attendance to drink fresh blood in exchange for money and get yourself in trouble with the infamous Kim Coven. 
Tags: Vampire! Seokjin, Half-Faerie! Reader, Mythical Creatures AU!, SMUT, Cunnilingus, Magic slick (Seokjin passed out from it lmao), Blood sucking(obvs), not beta read.
Words: 5.1k
I just found this one collecting dust in the vault so I decided to post it here since it'll be a shame if I don't post a 5k words worth work. Its supposed to be the first chapter for a mythical creatures and reincarnation au bts x reader story but I immediately hit a wall.
I'll prolly pick it up in the future idk.
• MASTERLIST •
__________
Never in your life have you ever thought a single sheet of paper could weigh so heavily in the palm of your hands like it holds the heaviness of your future.
Depending on your answer, it does.
The card was a vibrant crimson with a nice golden design of modest swirls as margins for the text that are colored in silver, the material no doubt expensive. It was an invitation to a private feeding after all, how could it look shabby when only a selected few are given the opportunity to attend?
By selecting a few, you meant people from affluent backgrounds and some unfortunate people desperate for money.
It was obvious what category you’d fall into.
If you were to attend the party.
“Stop staring at it like it offended your ancestors, I'm just suggesting it.”
Soomin, your friend since high school, says.
“Where did you even get this? You don't know any vampires, do you?”
She shrugs, leaning back into her armchair. “Got a few favours. You were complaining about needing money and thought I could use some of them.”
Scratching your head, you read the card's contents with careful apprehension.
“Relax, it's not enchanted to track where it goes. It's just a normal card, you know I wouldn't force you into something if safety wasn't guaranteed.”
Before leaving the herd to pursue college far from the safety of family wards, your mother had enchanted your accessories with aura suppressors and glamours to prevent people from knowing your heritage.
You were told of horrors of the inhabitants outside the plane, both mortals and supernaturals turning over every leaf in the forest just for a whiff of a faerie.
Your blood is as precious as its golden colour, said to restore even the weakest mortal on its deathbed to pristine condition with a mere drop and turn a half vampire’s miniscule powers into a bottomless pit of a royal pureblood.
Faeries live in constant danger and you'd be damned if you weren’t taught to overthink everything.
“It’s anonymous, they’ll have you wear a mask, don't overthink it too much. My aunt used to tell me ‘your body is an emergency fund, every part of you is profitable. You just need to know the right place.’ or in my case, a man.”
She says, wiggling her fingers in front of your face where a gigantic pink diamond glimmered under the light above you, an engagement ring from the werewolf she bagged from dancing haphazardly on a stranger one friday night.
It's her pride, being able to capture the attention of one of the country's most attractive bachelors. It gave her a confidence that soared so high in the skies, she had nudged the space terminal. You couldn't even blame her for thinking so, knowing you'd share the same sentiments if it were you.
But still, daring to wander around without the wards your mother has spent years of creating to keep you safe, it makes your stomach churn. 
Placing the card and pushing it as far as you could, you lean back into the chair.
“I don't know… It's really risky.”
“I’m just suggesting here,” she sighs, sliding the paper back in front of you and patting it. “If all goes well, you wouldn't need to work overtime for a year at least.”
“You saying that only makes me overthink it even more.”
She rolls her eyes playfully.
You knew she was right and the prospect of not working for a year is tempting. But a part of you frowned at the thought of risking your safety for a couple of zeroes in your bank account. Pride is such a fickle thing, so easily threatened and dragged through the mud when desperation kicks in.
But what is Pride in the face of your mountainous pending bills?
Not to mention, your mother and little brother's living situation back in the province. Soobin needed new shoes for school, you've seen how well-worn it has been—if well-worn meant clumsily glued back soles onto the upper body for the nth time with shoelaces frizzled and pulled taut from being twisted into knots and years of washing.
Your barista and supermarket cashier job nor your mother's job as a saleslady in the wet market doesn't reward you enough to save for his shoe while trying to sustain both you and your family, you need more. Taking on another 9-5 job is far from the solution.
Grabbing the paper with a newfound heaviness in your body, you sighed. The address encrusted in silver stood out in the seas of crimson reds, rooting your eyes onto the text.
“You asked for my help and I offer this–this somewhat long term solution.”
“But what if someone tries to track my blood back to me?”
Your mother and brother are counting on you, her salary from selling in the market aren't enough for the both of them. If you were to disappear they would sink further than you all already are, Soobin would stop attending school in favour of working. The guilt from seeing your mother bend over her back to be able to put food on the table would kill him.
It's a burdening feeling you wouldn't wish upon him. He should only know to have fun, make friends, and experience life in high school like a normal teen would.
You can't afford to put yourself in danger.
“I’ll put my name on the list instead. I promise you that you'll be safe, you just need to find someone to feed on you and then you can go, easy money!” 
Seeing the hesitance in your eyes, she continued.
“Sometimes you just need to live a little. There's rewards in risking, you know?”
But then again, nor can you afford new shoes for Soobin with your minimum wage jobs.
With a defeated sigh, you looked up to meet your friend's eyes. 
“How should I dress?”
________
He should've known better than attending parties the prehistoric council members had invited him into, you'd think centuries of politics would render him immune to these tricky situations yet here he is, standing awkwardly in the middle of the meeting room while holding said invitation and a cocktail. The old geezer was already gone by the time he realised his mistake. 
The envelope was a deep hue of red, a foretelling sign of what the party might be about.
It wasn't a shock when he saw the neatly imprinted silver text on the thick crimson paper telling him of a private feeding gathering for both the fortunate and the unfortunate on Saturday.
While being a vampire himself, he never had to feed on strangers when he had his coven to fill him up for the next month or so. His age has allowed him longer intervals between feeding and at this point, he has grown nonchalant with that aspect of his life. 
Obviously, he should've ripped it to shreds and incinerated the damn thing.
But a voice whispered at the back of his, urging him to join the small gathering. A nagging feeling tugging at him and telling him he'd miss something important if he were to dismiss the invitation. Yet when asked why he went, he said it's to oversee the event undercover.
He could still feel the burning curious gaze of his brothers on his skin.
Which brings him to his current predicament, fighting off the urge to yawn from the absolute boredom caused by newbloods breaking their backs to impress potential business partners and blood donors.
He silently thanked whoever thought it was a good idea to have guests wear masks. There would've been heaps upon heaps of scandals if he were to be spotted in a feeding party, not to mention, the newbloods trying to peacock their way to being sponsored by the Kim Coven and from the rising irritation burning his back, he might shave off a huge number off the vampire population.
He couldn't remember the times he had done his route around the hall, trying to avoid people vying for a morsel of attention and trying his best to not stay still in one place for people to recognize him but he did know that if he were to go around once more, he's leaving once and for all.
Downing his last martini, he stood up. 
Only for a dizzying scent to knock him back into his seat. It grabbed onto his throat with a tight grip, stuffing his head and demanding his attention. It smelled like the sweetest of sin, honeyed and dripping thick on his tongue. 
A faerie’s blood, although from a half, is still as tantalising as a pure blooded one.
He hears the murmurs, could feel multiple spawns’ auras spilling out of their body, their greed relentless and non-discriminating as it lashed out over each other, fighting to be noticed by the woman in the black bodycon dress. Why are they looking at her? How dare they lay their eyes on what's mine—
He immediately shook the thought away, making a note to review it later.
You strode into the middle of the ballroom with a sway to your hips, lips painted in the hue of blood stretching into a coy smile as vampires of all ages take a step towards your direction. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination with its thin fabric clinging onto your form tightly. From the spaghetti straps hanging flimsily on your shoulders to the low dip of its collar between the mounds of your chest and the high slits on one side to reveal the plumpness of your thighs, you were mouth watering in every way possible.
With pouty lips tinted in crimson red and hair loosely curled on the side of your face. You were a sight to behold.
Seeing you stride in with all that skin displayed for everyone to see, a ravenous monster at the back of his mind resurfaces. Greed and possessiveness of the others seeped into his skin, awakening something he had long buried.
A potential mate, his mind had whispered 
Fuck, you're driving him insane.
Seokjin didn't notice his feet moving, following the alluring scent beckoning him close as if hypnotised but he did see the flirtatious narrowing of your eyes as he approached. If his power is spilling over the floor and deterring everyone from daring to get in between you both, he ignored it. 
In fact, he revelled in their soured faces and shivering bodies.
He wasn't one for claiming territories nor was he the type to flaunt his power but for tonight, he'll make an exception.
No one is to dare interrupt him.
“What's a pretty faerie like you doing outside of their realm?”
He tried so hard not to stare at the delectable view of the mounds of your breast or the unblemished skin of your neck and chest but it's difficult with the view granted by his height. Your heartbeat pulsed nervously despite the flirtatious mask you so perfectly strut with. 
He could practically taste your scent being this close and his throat dries up.
Fuck, you're gonna make him religious.
“The same as the other women in pretty dresses in this room, darling. Money.”
“Aren't you scared people might hurt you?” It was a genuine question, if he wasn't here to step over the pining prospects, he didn't want to imagine how they would've killed each other for a glance.
You would've been ravaged, you were bold for strutting into a room full of ravenous vampires. It was impressive as much as it made his blood curl. He pushed the thought away, he wouldn't want to scare you off by decorating the hall in gore.
Seokjin could feel your fear, could hear it from the racing beats of your heart under flesh and bones. You were nervous, no doubt ready to bolt the moment you were approached by the predators surrounding you in all directions yet you faced him head on with a false confidence he started to think is real.
If fear were to ever linger in the corner of your eyes, he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for every supernatural in this room. 
No one should ever dare scare you.
“I'm desperate. So, if you aren't trying to take me for the night, I have other guys pining for me so excuse—”
“I didn't say I didn't want you, sweetheart. I'm just trying to get to know you better.”
You stopped, looking up at him through your lashes as you stepped closer.
Lithe fingers boldly reached onto his tie pressed neatly behind his blazer—nails painted in a sinful red hue, he notes— tugging and twirling it between fingers as you stepped closer and closer, further drowning him in your delectable fragrance. Your nervous heart beats echoed in his ears and it sounded like the piper's capturing tune, your scent surrounds him like a haze of amortentia, demanding his attention on your eyes, your lips, your skin and to the dip in your waist. All Seokjin could think about was you.
Your soft flesh flashing up at him, teasing him and urging him to have a taste, to feel the rush of your blood coating his tongue and down his throat, to run his hands over your skin and have his marks littering its unblemished surface.
Suddenly his clothes felt suffocating in the heat of his desire.
Was he seriously this floored for someone whose face he hasn't seen?
“All you need to know is that I need a name to moan, handsome.”
He could feel the thread of his patience running thin, lust leaking in and clouding his judgement. He smirked. “Name’s Jin. What should I call you then, sweet thing?”
Your arms reached around his neck, body pressing flush into his chest as you looked up at him through lidded eyes. The size difference not going unnoticed, if anything, it made him want to drive a stake through his heart.
“Cherry.”
He doesn't know who started it first, nor does he remember how you both ended up in a private room after the feeding contract was signed, doors locked behind you both as he pressed you onto its wooden material, the masks long forgotten on the floor. Seokjin felt your lust in how your scent sweetened further like heaven's nectar, grabbing onto his throat and drowning him.
It almost felt sacrilegious that he gets to know you so intimately like this. Almost unfair how your desires grappled with his patience like a cat with a ball of yarn, temptation lighting his skin alight.
Pulling away, his lips immediately zeroed in on your neck. His fangs ached to be buried onto your precious skin but he knows better than to harvest his rewards early. He sucked bruises and marked your throat yet the greediness in his chest didn't relent, if anything, it rampaged further at the sight of you littered with his marks.
They looked so pretty on you.
“You're driving me insane.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Taking your lips once again with his, you engaged in a wild dance of teeth dragging over his lips and tongue clashing with yours before picking you up and taking you both to the bed at the far corner of the room.
The straps of your dress falling from your shoulders shouldn't have the effect it does to him yet here he is, throat tight and mouth watering as he hovers over your pliant body, full chest spilling on the sides of your body, raising with your laboured breath with cheeks flushed with desire. His hands pushed the offending fabric of your dress to bunch over your inner thighs, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of skin being revealed to him before noticing how the thick flesh managed to look so small under his palms.
His mouth dries.
He can't wait to see how Namjoon feels about the size difference between you. The man would lose every morsel of control.
“Stop staring!”
“Why should I? You look so pretty like this.”
There's something so sinfully divine in how the fabric only seems to cover the necessary parts of your body, trying its best—and failing—to hide you from his gaze, the devil about to corrupt your purity with a bite.
You whined, hand reaching for him as you flush darker at his comment.
You'd turn Yoongi into a devout worshipper who'd dedicate a thousand songs because of this sight alone.
He ran his hands across your thighs, thumb inching closer to your heat under the fabric and every time it neared your breath hitches. Your heartbeat thuds a little faster, a new melody he's grown to love. 
Yoongi would've somehow composed a song with it.
“If you stare any longer, I'm going to start charging you.”
He didn't mean to laugh as hard as he did at that.
“Not much of a threat for me, sweetheart. I'm fucking rich.”
Your scent flares as you let out a soft moan and he captures your lips once more before pulling away with a smirk. 
“I'd spoil you rotten, put you in the nicest, most expensive clothing and I'd still have more to spend on you for an eternity.” 
You whined and it sounded like the sweetest melody he'd hear once he enters whatever heaven there is for the supernatural. 
Seokjin didn't have a kink for spending money on someone nor did he imagine he'd have one, but as he drawled on, he couldn't help but imagine you in the most lavish fabric to pose for him and his coven members, to see your form covered in the softest of silk and the rarest of gems only their money could purchase, his throat tightened.
Taehyung’s designed clothes would fit you perfectly.
“You like wealth, princess? I have plenty. My coven has a dragon, he'd spoil you rotten, he’d stop at nothing to give you everything you'd ever wanted.”
You didn't react to his revelation and he takes it as a win, a silent acceptance of his coven.
“Please just touch me.”
“Where do you want me, princess?”
You take his hand, lithe and small against him, and bring it close to where you wanted him most between legs, nudging his fingers between folds and shocks shoots through his body. He groans, the lacy fabric already drenched with your arousal, doused with your addicting scent.
“I want your fingers inside me, Jinnie. Please?”
If you asked him for the universe with that voice, he would learn how to shrink it and hand it over to you the next day tied with a bowstring.
Are you aware of the power you hold over him?
Instead of moving, he let you move his wrist, watched you with rapt attention as his fingers dipped down your folds, hovering on your clenching hole before rising to nudge your clit, teasing your already sensitive self and moaning from the slightest of touch. 
If it wasn't for the unfamiliar signature of a faerie in your scent, he would've thought you were a succubus.
“Look at you grinding on my knuckles so prettily, already so needy for me.”
He pressed light figures of eight on your button and drank in the sight of your desperation with rapt attention. Your hips twisted, eager for more. Tugging the fabric aside with the other hand, he toyed with your clit, using different pressures and motions to figure out what brings you the most pleasure before dipping a finger into you.
Your velvety walls fluttered around him, pulsing with need and tightening oh so deliciously on his finger. His cock stirs in his pants as he adds another digit, he can't wait to bury himself into your warmth.
Seeing you thrash around in pleasure as his fingers drove and curled inside you, got his body crawling with the intense feeling of greed. He wanted to see more of you, to have you on the brink of breaking. Suddenly, the dress flimsily covering you grew offensive. He eyed the material restricting his movements before pulling away from your cunt and reaching up to tug your panties off of you, discreetly tossing it into his spatial storage.
The dress is already halfway off your skin, he could easily tear them apart to replace them with a better, more expensive fabric but decided against it.
He sheds the clothing inch by inch, placing soft kisses and gentle nibbles to newly uncovered skin, leaving you breathless beneath him. Your scent flourished with your magic. It was electrifying. Intoxicating how your power seems to react so well with his.
Like you were meant to be.
Sitting back, he admired the divine artwork before him, embedding the sight into the walls of his brain. Your arms moved to cross over your breasts from his gaze making him reach down to entangle your fingers with his and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“Don't hide from me. You look so pretty like this.”
With you finally revealed bare beneath him, he wasted no more time, leaning down to your cunt where your scent was stronger and licked.
Your flavour explodes on his tongue and he groans. Whether it was just your scent he’s tasting or your arousal he could care less, mouth latching onto your folds and tongue lolling on your erect bead as he sucked. His head buzzed, intoxicated by the fluctuating aroma surrounding him. He could die happy between your shuddering thighs threatening to close around his face, he didn’t mind it though, he can go on without breathing if only he could taste your sweet nectar.
Tasting you felt blasphemous, like he broke every heavenly rule there is by having you drip on his tongue. Sinful and outright disrespectful, and he loved it.
Heat ravaged his entire being alight, desire running rampant and restless under his skin. His fingers roamed your uncharted skin possessively, digging his fingers onto flesh and dragging them down, cupping and squeezing whatever he could reach while his mouth busied with your clit. Your hands grabbed at his head, fingers threading and entangling themselves onto his hair, confused whether to push him away or to tug him closer as you edged closer to the precipice of your high.
“I'm so close…! Jinnie please!”
With your back arched, hair laid around your head like a halo and chest glistening with sweat stuttering as you come to a close, skin illuminated by the soft lights of the room, Seokjin swore he has never seen a more beautiful sight than this.
His fangs ached once more.
“Fuck..! I’m gonna—”
He pulls away, teeth sinking into the plush of your thigh and your body seizes with pleasure, the ecstasy caused by his bite pushing you over.
Your blood is light and rich on his tongue, syrupy and honeyed, like the sweetest nectar found only in the garden of eden, the flavour heightened by your climax. Seokjin could taste the sugariness of your orgasm as if it was his own and he groaned. It was dizzying, the taste clogging his senses and stuffing cottons inside his mind as he took and took. He has never realised how hungry he was until he’s bitten into your skin.
His head swims, intoxicated by the raw magic in your blood entering his system, intertwining and entangling themselves into his own before boldly integrating with the flow of his power as if they've always been there. Energy buzzed under his fingers now erratically plunging and curling inside your cunt, further sweetening your blood as you edged between pleasure and pain from overstimulation.
Then in the midst of all the pleasure and nirvana, something clicks into place and he jerks awake from the haze.
Forcing himself to pull away, he almost black out as if he’s been taken off of life support—he feels like he did. Head blank and lightheaded, blood drunk. Even in his bleary state, he could feel it. An additional trace of your magic latching onto his own, a bond unconsciously made.
The uncomfortable stickiness in his boxers didn't go unnoticed and he buried his face into your thigh, blushing for no one in particular.
He cursed under his breath before pushing himself up and wishing you both into the comfortable clothing he had stocked up in his pocket dimension before taking his phone out of it, immediately greeted by the onslaught of text on his lock screen, all two hundred of them from his brothers who had no doubt felt the addition and his intense pleasure from feeding on you.
Normally, he'd be embarrassed by the thought of them knowing what he's been up to but there were more pressing matters to attend to. 
For example, the bond formed without your consent and his.
There's panic and confusion swirling madly like a hurricane through the six other bonds. He forced calmness down the lines tethered to his magic before turning back to the issue at hand.
He might have to wake you up and inform you of what happened.
But when he looked up and found your eyes closed, most likely blacking out from the intensity of the unprecedented bonding and the overstimulation from a vampire's bite, he figured that he'd deal with it tomorrow. You looked peaceful and he found himself mirroring the same sentiment, exhaustion weighing his bones. He dragged himself up next to you, arms wrapping around your torso as if he has always been doing so.
There's still insistent tugs down the lines of his bond, demanding answers and the constant buzzing from his phone but that's for tomorrow's Seokjin’s problem to solve, for now, he closes his eyes.
For the first time that year, Seokjin sleeps and wakes from the most pleasant rest he's had in centuries only to end it abruptly when he wakes up with the other side of the bed empty and he freaks.
______
“What the fuck do you mean you just left him?!”
“What the fuck was I supposed to do then?! If he's as high profile as you think, I don't think he'd appreciate waking up next to a one night stand!”
“Not all of them you—ARGH!”
Soomin groaned exasperatedly and loudly, folding over herself as she facepalms on the other armchair in your dorm's living room. Deeming it not dramatic enough, she grabs the pink throw pillow behind her and screams onto it.
Truth be told, leaving Jin earlier that morning placed a heavy weight on your heart. It felt so wrong to walk away from him, as if there's a string tying you to him and now it's pulled taut—which is a crazy statement to think about, there was no bonding ritual so how could you feel so dejected from closing the door behind you?
You have a couple of spare zeroes in your bank account now with bills paid and an expensive pair of black shoes already in transit for Soobin. Why would you be sad from leaving a one night stand?
You couldn't even believe you managed to bag someone that high in the social hierarchy. That party was a nightmare, walking in knowing all eyes would turn to you, all predatorial and hungry, it almost made you want to run back to your mother's arms. But you're an actress, theatre experience be damned if you weren't going to put on the greatest act of your life.
Fake till you make it, you always think and it led to you having the most earth shattering, blackout worthy orgasm as well as owning heaps of money.
Soomin has a different sentiment though, now standing up to crossover to where you sat across her before promptly hitting your body with the pillow.
“You're. So. Fucking. Stupid!” She screams like you had pissed and disrespected her ancestors’ grave, striking after each word. “That man might be Kim Seokjin from the most elusive clan in the world! Number one most sought bachelor and the country's most powerful sorcerer and you just walked away from him!”
“How could you be so sure it's him? All we got is a nickname.”
“His name is literally Jin which is short for Seokjin and he's a vampire wizard! You said he has a coven with a dragon? Well, guess what?! That dragon is Kim fucking Namjoon, another member of the Kim coven! That man is one of the richest in the fucking world and you just ditched his coven’s eldest!”
She swings for the last time and you weren't so fortunate the last few times—already letting down your guard when she began ranting—and it hits you square in the face. You groaned in pain, the zipper on the side of the pillow scratching your skin. 
Soomin’s anger immediately dwindled as she realised her error and gasped, falling to her knees and hands already reaching to cup your face to check for visible marks, pillow left abandoned on the carpet.
“Can't be damaging the face that bagged the Kim coven.”
“No damage here.”
“Just my faith in your decision making skills. I mean,” she stands, now more subdued and more disappointed than angry, still you eyed the pillow warily. “You've been wearing yourself down to death for years not only for you but also your family. If you were taken into the Kim Clan, you wouldn't have to worry about money anymore.”
Despite being one of your closest and longest friends, there's always been a huge difference with how you both perceive money. 
You're desperate for it, clawing and digging your hands bloody through the desolate desert for a chance of finding one small nugget to sustain your family while Soomin was familiar with it—she grew comfortably living in her parents’ spoils of years of hard work but never enough to buy the highest of quality items until her fiance came and suddenly, she had more than enough to spend for her luxury and you.
You strived and toiled for a smidge of stability whereas she revelled in anything life throws at her without worry because she has her parents to catch her if everything ever goes wrong.
She thinks of luxury as designer brands and ridiculously highly priced products that don't guarantee the greatest quality but you think of luxury as never having to worry about spending a cent over the designated budget for food shopping.
Even then, you loved her to the bone. Appreciated her like a sister from another mother.
“I can't afford to be distracted right now. I have a course to finish and a family to keep alive, I can't be hanging onto blind hope.”
Soomin's eyes softened, understanding and sighed. Turning around, she licked up the stray pillow before settling back into her chair and crossing her arms.
“I'm just… I just wanted you to be happier. It's a life mission of mine to make sure I won't die before seeing you living without stressing over details.” 
“I know.”
“I love you, leaflet.”
You laugh and she smiles. “I love you too, queen.”
427 notes · View notes
tolkienhorrorweek · 12 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Tolkien Horror Week is back for another year of celebrating all the terrifying and unsettling bits of Tolkien's work! The event will run from October 26th to November 1st and accepts all types of fanworks. There is an AO3 collection for the event here.
Below are some suggested prompts for each day of the week. They are not mandatory; feel free to combine them or disregard them entirely.
Day 1: Angband, Utumno, & Tol-in-Gaurhoth | beautiful and yet horrible of shape | captives and thralls Day 2: Angmar & Minas Morgul | lit with a fell light | specters and wraiths Day 3: Mordor & the Dead Marshes | enmeshed in shadows | spells and enchantments Day 4: The Barrow-downs & the Old Forest | cold be hand and heart and bone | mists and mires Day 5: Mirkwood, Nan Elmoth, & Taur-nu-Fuin | hunted like wild beasts | beasts and monsters Day 6: Nan Dungortheb & the Paths of the Dead | phantoms of terror | webs and snares Day 7: Isengard, Moria, & Númenor | old and forgotten | rituals and sacrifices
Please mention @tolkienhorrorweek in the body of your post and tag #tolkienhorrorweek and #tolkienhorrorweek2025 in the first 10 tags. You may also submit a post. Please tag any content warnings/gore and place any NSFW content beneath a read more/link to AO3.
For more information, see the FAQ. If you have any questions, drop them in the ask box.
Art is by John Howe.
189 notes · View notes
miunachan · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Soft & Cozy Story Ideas ♥
Hey ✿
This time I wanted to share with you a few soft & cozy gameplay/story ideas for The Sims 4 ♥ They are pretty ✧basic✧ and easy to play after a long and exhausting day just to chill out🌿
Most of the ideas are also base game compatible, nevertheless I included recommended but optional packs ❀ Feel free to comment your cozy story ideas and I will happily add them to this list~
Here is the original post. And in case you like cute Sims 4 stuff, please take a look at my Patreon ♥
My other story ideas ✧. ✲゚・。✧・゚ ✿ Ultimate List of Business Ideas ✿ Very Dramatic Story Ideas
Happy simming =^◕⩊◕^= ~ MiunaChan ♥
Tumblr media
🌾 Simdew Valley
She has inherited an old, run-down farm from a distant relative. With nothing but a few basic tools and a lot of determination, she sets out to restore it to its former glory. She cares for animals, grows fresh produce, and slowly transforms the neglected land into a thriving homestead. Will she turn it into a successful business or simply enjoy the peaceful farm life?
Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Horse Ranch, Seasons, Businesses & Hobbies
Tumblr media
👶 Cozy Parenthood Journey
She always dreamed of having a family, and now that dream is coming true! From decorating the nursery to knitting tiny clothes, every day is filled with excitement and preparation for the new arrival. Once the baby is born, she embraces the cozy chaos of late-night feedings, lullabies, and first steps. Will she find the perfect balance between self-care, family life, and her own dreams?
Recommended Packs: Growing Together, Nifty Knitting, Parenthood
Tumblr media
🧙‍♂️ The Thanatology Scholar
Fascinated by the mysteries of life and death, your Sim immerses themselves in the study of thanatology. They attend lectures, read ancient texts, and experiment with spiritual practices. Along the way, they uncover hidden truths and develop a special connection to the spirit world.
Recommended Packs: Life and Death, Realm of Magic, Paranormal Stuff
Tumblr media
🖌 Artist’s Peaceful Retreat
She retreats to a charming lakeside cottage to finally dedicate herself fully to her art. Every day is spent painting, sculpting, or writing – inspired by the breathtaking nature around her. Will she sell her first masterpiece or simply create for her own joy?
Recommended Packs: Dream Home Decorator, City Living, Businesses & Hobbies
Tumblr media
🔮 Enchanted Village Life
She has always felt drawn to the mystical and unknown. When she moves into a tiny, ivy-covered cottage at the edge of the forest, strange things begin to happen — her garden flourishes overnight, fireflies seem to whisper secrets, and the old spellbook on the dusty shelf calls to her. As she brews herbal teas, crafts protective charms, and befriends a mischievous fox, she slowly uncovers the magic hidden within herself. Will she embrace her new life as the village’s gentle witch?
Recommended Packs: Realm of Magic, Cottage Living, Paranormal Stuff
Tumblr media
🧘‍♀️ Zen Retreat
Seeking inner peace and balance, your Sim leaves behind the hustle and bustle of everyday life to run a small wellness retreat. They spend their days practicing yoga, meditating, and offering relaxing massages to visitors. As they help others find tranquility, they may just discover a deeper sense of harmony within themselves.
Recommended Packs: Spa Day, Snowy Escape, Businesses & Hobbies
Tumblr media
🌊 Mermaid’s Hidden Cove
Deep beneath the waves, your Sim has always felt a special connection to the ocean. One day, they discover a hidden cove, teeming with magic and mystery. As they embrace their mermaid heritage, they explore underwater secrets, befriend turtles, and gather treasures lost to time. Will they remain in the depths forever, or will they find a way to balance life on land and sea?
Recommended Packs: Island Living, Realm of Magic, Outdoor Retreat
Tumblr media
🐶 Pet Whisperer
She has a heart for animals and takes in stray dogs and cats. Her little home is filled with love, fluffy friends, and daily adventures in the park. Maybe one day, she’ll even adopt a horse and expand her cozy home?
Recommended Packs: Cats & Dogs, Horse Ranch, My First Pet Stuff
Tumblr media
🚐 Van Life Adventure
She has left her old life behind and now lives in a renovated van. Every day is a new place, new encounters, and cozy evenings with a guitar by the campfire. Will she eventually settle down, or will she stay on the road forever?
Recommended Packs: Snowy Escape, Outdoor Retreat
Tumblr media
☕ Little Book Café
She has always dreamed of owning her own café – and now it's finally happening! Her little shop is the perfect retreat for book lovers who want to enjoy a cappuccino and a good story. Can she turn her tiny café into a beloved gathering place for creative souls?
Recommended Packs: Get Together, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies
Tumblr media
🍎 Classic Cottagecore Dream
She has escaped the city and bought a little cottage in the countryside. Here, she lives the dream of a simple life: feeding chickens, growing vegetables, making homemade jam, and writing letters to a mysterious pen pal. Who knows – maybe the mailman will soon bring more than just bills?
Recommended Packs: Cottage Living, Seasons, Eco Lifestyle
Tumblr media
🏡 Tiny Home Escape
The call of minimalism has reached her! She sold her big house and now lives in a self-built tiny home. She discovers how little she really needs – and how much joy comes from living with nature and focusing on what truly matters.
Recommended Packs: Tiny Living, Eco Lifestyle, Outdoor Retreat
Tumblr media
📚 Cozy College Life
Your Sim isn’t here to party hard — they’re here to enjoy the simple joys of student life. Early morning coffee runs, study sessions in a sunlit library, and cozy nights spent journaling in their dorm. They join a book club, decorate their tiny student apartment with fairy lights, and take peaceful walks around campus. Will they graduate with honors, or will they discover that learning is about more than just grades?
Recommended Packs: Discover University, High School Years
Tumblr media
🎶 Slow Life Musician
She enjoys a relaxed life in a small apartment. By day, she works in a record store; by night, she plays guitar at a cozy café. Music is her lifeblood – will she one day write a song that changes her life forever?
Recommended Packs: City Living, Get Famous
Tumblr media
🍰 Comfort Baking Challenge
Baking is her passion! Every day, she tries new recipes and invites friends and neighbors to taste her latest creations. Maybe one day, she’ll even open a little cupcake shop?
Recommended Packs: Home Chef Hustle, Get to Work, Businesses & Hobbies
Tumblr media
🌿 Secret Garden
Her tiny garden is her pride and joy. She spends her days tending to plant, growing herbs, and creating a beautiful flower bed. Will she start her own flower shop or discover the magic of healing herbs?
Recommended Packs: Seasons, Eco Lifestyle, Cottage Living
Tumblr media
🧶 Cozy Grandparent Life
Knitting, gardening, and baking fill her days – until she stumbles upon an old love letter she never sent. Her heart races. Could her first love still be out there somewhere? And if so, what will happen if they meet again after all these years?
Recommended Packs: Nifty Knitting, Growing Together, My Wedding Stories
208 notes · View notes
phemiec · 5 months ago
Text
there’s no one like David Lynch obviously, but if you’re feeling the loss and are a fan of surrealist filmmaking, I have some recommendations!
Cecilia Condit. A veteran of indie surrealism, you may be familiar with her echolalia-inducing viral work from the 80’s Possibly In Michigan. Her films have a stripped raw home-video aesthetic and feel both welcomingly intimate, and distantly dreamlike. Favourite piece: All About A Girl.
Ann Magnuson. Creator in the same vein as Cecilia but infinitely underrated. As in, less than a thousand subscribers. Musician filmmaker and dream tapestry weaver. Your strange aunt becomes a content creator. Favourite Piece: The Enchanted Forest.
Carter Amelia Davis. Mixed media animator who makes some of the grossest and most compelling nightmare fuel out there. Deeply enjoyable especially if you are a mentally ill internet poisoned nihilist like me. Favourite piece: Cave video 2.
Cyriak. Surrealist animator well known from the halcyon rage-comic days of the internet, you’re probably already familiar with his work. His stuff is pure audio-visual cacophony, no plot, just expertly crafted chaos, but hypnotic if you can stand the overstimulation. Watch his stuff high to instantly die. Favourite piece: Breakfast.
Micah Buzan. A surrealist/psychedelic animator/musician I will NEVER stop recommending. His experimentation with colour, form, sound and imagery is so earnest and expressive, and conveys a very specific kind of existential angst that any current/former sensitive teenager can appreciate. Favourite piece: The Thief.
Jack Stauber. You already know him so there’s really nothing to say. He is the GOAT of mixed media animation laser targeted at the scared traumatized baby in your brain. Favourite piece: New Normal.
PLEASE add to this post if you know more surrealist indie filmmakers!
251 notes · View notes
kathaelipwse · 3 months ago
Text
A Love That Time Forgot | Bangchan
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Word Count: 2941 words {Reading Time: 10-ish mins} Warnings: Witch!reader x Knight!chan | Bittersweet ending | NO PROOF READING WAS DONE Genre: Fantasy | Angst | Romance | Reincarnation | Enemies-to-Lovers | Suggestive (MDNI) Synopsis: You have walked through centuries—cursed with immortality, watching kingdoms rise and fall. Long ago, you had a mortal lover—Bang Chan, a brave warrior who promised to return to you. But he never did. Now, after lifetimes of loneliness, you meet him again… only he doesn’t remember you. Worse, he is now a knight sworn to hunt witches—and you are at the top of his list. As he gets closer to you, something within him stirs—memories that shouldn’t exist, emotions he shouldn’t feel. But can you make him remember before he kills you? Author's Note: Sighs. No clue why I wrote angst. (And posted after A WHILE.)
Centuries ago, in a realm where magic whispered through ancient forests and kingdoms clashed beneath star-dusted skies, love was not merely forbidden; it was a crime. You, a witch of formidable power, a weaver of starlight and shadow, found your heart ensnared by Bang Chan, a mortal warrior. His loyalty lay with a kingdom steeped in fear, a land where magic was anathema, a plague to be eradicated. Yet, amidst the clash of steel and the stifling prejudice, a love bloomed, a fragile flower in the heart of a storm.
Stolen moments were their sanctuary. A hidden glade where moonlight painted silver patterns on the forest floor, a forgotten tower overlooking the kingdom’s bustling city, a secluded cave where the echoes of the sea whispered secrets. Each encounter was a defiance, a rebellion against the very fabric of their world. Chan, with his calloused hands and eyes that held the depth of a thousand battles, would trace the constellations on your skin, his touch a silent promise. You, with your whispered incantations and eyes that shimmered with ancient wisdom, would weave enchantments of protection around him, hoping to shield him from the encroaching darkness.
"Wait for me," he had said, his forehead pressing against yours, the warmth a stark contrast to the chilling wind that whipped around them. His voice, usually a command on the battlefield, was now a soft plea. "Even if I die, I will find my way back to you. I swear it upon the ancient stones, upon the very stars that witness our love."
But war was a ravenous beast, and fate, a cruel puppeteer. He vanished into the heart of the conflict, his promise echoing in the empty spaces he left behind. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months, and then, silence. A silence that screamed of loss.
Desperate, driven by a love that defied reason, you broke the sacred laws of your lineage. You delved into forbidden rituals, invoking ancient powers that should have remained dormant. You sought to resurrect him, to pull him back from the clutches of death, but fate was not so easily swayed. The spell, a twisted mockery of your desire, did not restore him. Instead, it cursed you with immortality, a lonely eternity stretching before you like an endless, desolate landscape.
Centuries passed, each one a heavy, agonizing burden. Kingdoms rose and fell, empires crumbled into dust, and the world transformed, yet you remained, a silent observer in the theater of time. The memory of Chan, his face, his touch, his voice, became a constant ache, a phantom limb that throbbed with unfulfilled longing. You watched as the world changed, the whispers of magic turned into fearful screams, the open fields turned into bustling cities, and the old ways became legends.
Until now.
Until you saw him again, a figure emerging from the shadows of a world you barely recognized, yet his essence burned familiar.
The world had changed, a tapestry woven with steel and smoke, where the whispers of magic were met with fear and violence. Witches were still hunted, their powers deemed a threat to the rigid order of the new kingdoms. At the head of this brutal crusade stood none other than Bang Chan.
No longer the warrior of honor, his heart a beacon of loyalty and love, he was the King’s most feared knight, a figure shrouded in coldness and ruthlessness. His name was spoken with a mix of awe and terror, his blade a symbol of the kingdom’s unwavering might. His eyes, once filled with warmth and devotion, now held the chilling emptiness of a winter’s night.
And when his blade met your throat, the cold steel a stark reminder of the chasm that separated your past and present, his eyes held no flicker of recognition, no echo of the love you shared.
"You should be dead," he murmured, his voice sharp with suspicion, a predator assessing its prey. The words were a physical blow, a confirmation of the cruel twist of fate.
"And yet, here I stand," you whispered, the words a defiance against the impossible. The air crackled with unspoken questions, with the weight of a past that refused to be forgotten.
Something flickered in his gaze, a fleeting shadow of a forgotten memory, a ghost of a love that lingered in the depths of his soul. But before he could grasp the elusive thread, you vanished into the night, a wisp of shadow and magic, leaving him with nothing but doubt, a haunting echo in the silence of his heart.
Chan was haunted by dreams, vivid and unsettling, visions of a woman he did not know, yet somehow knew intimately. Whispers of a love that seemed to belong to another lifetime, a forgotten language spoken in the depths of his soul. He dismissed them as the remnants of a fevered mind, a product of the relentless battles and the weight of his duty.
And then, he found you again.
The enchanted forest, a sanctuary of ancient magic, hid you well, its labyrinthine paths and whispering trees a formidable barrier. But his instincts, sharpened by years of relentless training, led him to your hidden abode.
"You're in my head," he accused, his sword drawn, its gleaming edge reflecting the moonlight, his heart a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. "You're weaving illusions, witchcraft."
"You know me," you countered, stepping closer, your voice a gentle caress, a whisper of a forgotten melody. "Somewhere inside you, beneath the layers of time and memory, you remember."
His grip tightened on his sword, the knuckles white, his eyes a storm of confusion and suspicion. "Witchcraft," he repeated, a desperate attempt to cling to the familiar, to the logic of his world.
"No," you whispered, your hand reaching out, a silent plea. "Fate."
A battle raged in his eyes, a conflict between the man he was and the man he was meant to be, a war you refused to let him fight alone. And when his hesitation, a flicker of doubt in the armor of his resolve, gave you an opening, you vanished, leaving him standing in the ruins of a past he didn’t yet understand, a puzzle he was compelled to solve.
But he followed, driven by an unseen force, a pull that defied logic and reason.
Chan, a man bound by duty and discipline, should have turned back, should have retreated into the familiar embrace of his world. Instead, he chased you, drawn by an invisible thread, into the heart of the enchanted forest, into the sanctuary of your forgotten past.
And suddenly, he was inside your home, a place untouched by time, a haven filled with remnants of a life that whispered to him like a ghost, a symphony of forgotten memories. Ancient tapestries depicting scenes he vaguely recognized, books filled with symbols he instinctively understood, and the lingering scent of your magic, a familiar warmth that permeated the air.
"Tell me you don’t feel it," you whispered, your eyes searching his, seeking a spark of recognition. "Tell me you don’t know me."
His jaw clenched, his voice rough with denial. "You’re playing with my mind, weaving illusions, witchcraft."
"Am I?" You reached for him, your fingertips grazing his skin, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through his veins, a reminder of a connection he couldn’t explain. And then—he remembered.
Not fully, not yet. But flashes of a past that should not exist, a life lived in a time he couldn’t comprehend, slammed into him like a tidal wave. Your laughter, a melody that resonated deep within his soul. His hands tangled in your hair, the silken strands a familiar caress. His lips murmuring your name in the dark, a sound that echoed in the chambers of his heart.
Something inside him snapped, the dam of his carefully constructed reality cracking under the weight of the encroaching memories. With a growl of frustration and desire, he grabbed you, slamming you against the wall, the force of his actions a reflection of the turmoil within him. The air between you ignited, electric with something forbidden and familiar, a spark of a love that refused to be extinguished.
"What have you done to me?" he whispered, his voice rough with conflict, his eyes a storm of confusion and longing.
"Nothing," you breathed, your voice a soft caress, a balm to his tormented soul. "I just let you remember."
And then his lips crashed into yours, a desperate, aching plea, a battle between love and war, a collision of past and present. His hands roamed your body, relearning the contours of a love he once knew, his breath uneven, matching yours, a rhythm of a forgotten dance.
You gasped as he lifted you, pressing you against him as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded, the anchor to his fractured reality. His lips left scorching trails down your neck, murmuring words that made no sense to him, but you knew they were remnants of his past self, breaking through the barriers of time and memory.
And for that night, he let himself fall, surrendering to the echoes of a love that transcended lifetimes.
When dawn came, painting the sky with hues of rose and gold, clarity returned, a cruel and unforgiving light that exposed the fragile nature of their shared night. Chan awoke, the remnants of passion still clinging to him like a phantom limb, and found you still in his arms, your warmth a comforting weight, an anchor in the storm of his memories. But that warmth, that intimacy, terrified him. It was a stark reminder of the forbidden, of the world he was sworn to uphold.
He tore himself away, the movement abrupt and violent, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. The weight of his duty, the rigid structure of his life, crashed down on him, a crushing burden. He was the King’s knight, a symbol of unwavering loyalty, and you were the kingdom’s greatest enemy, a witch whose very existence threatened the order he was bound to protect.
"I… I can’t," he rasped, his voice rough with remorse and fear, retreating as if burned by your touch. The words were a betrayal, a denial of the very love that had blossomed in the night.
"Chan—" You reached for him, your eyes filled with a hurt that shattered something deep within him, a fragile piece of his soul.
"No!" His hands clenched into fists, the knuckles white with tension. "I don’t belong to you. I don't belong to this."
You stepped closer, the hurt in your eyes deepening, a silent accusation. "Then why did you let yourself remember? Why did you surrender to the echoes of our past?"
But he didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The conflict within him was a raging inferno, consuming his reason and his heart. He turned and left, disappearing into the shadows of the forest, leaving you alone with the shattered remnants of a night that should have been a promise.
And when the King, a man consumed by fear and paranoia, commanded your execution, Chan did not object. He stood silent, his face a mask of cold resolve, his heart a battlefield where duty and love clashed in a brutal, unending war. He watched as the wheels of fate turned, sealing your destiny with the cold, unyielding stamp of his silence.
You stood on the execution platform, the rough wood cold beneath your bare feet, the air thick with the scent of fear and anticipation. The crowd below, a sea of faces twisted with hatred and bloodlust, hungered for your demise, a spectacle of the kingdom’s power. And at the center of it all stood Chan, his sword gleaming in the harsh light, his face an impenetrable mask, torn between the duty that bound him and the destiny that called to him.
"End her," the King commanded, his voice echoing across the square, a decree that sealed your fate.
Chan raised his blade, the movement mechanical, devoid of emotion, but his hands shook, the tremors betraying the turmoil within him. Memories flooded back in full force, a torrent of images and emotions that overwhelmed his senses. He saw you, not as a witch, not as an enemy, but as the woman he once died loving, the woman whose laughter was a melody, whose touch was a fire, whose love was a beacon in the darkness.
His grip loosened on the sword, the steel trembling. His chest ached, a physical manifestation of the pain that tore through his soul. And suddenly, he knew. He could not lose you again. He could not bear the weight of another lifetime without your love.
Before the King could react, before the guards could intervene, Chan turned his blade against them, cutting them down with the precision of a man reborn, a warrior driven by a love that transcended duty. He fought his way to you, a whirlwind of steel and fury, breaking your chains with a single, decisive stroke, pulling you into his arms, his touch a desperate plea for forgiveness.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice breathless, his eyes searching yours, seeking a flicker of hope.
Tears burned in your eyes, a mixture of relief and disbelief. "Always," you whispered, the word a testament to a love that had endured beyond lifetimes.
And with that, you both ran, fleeing the wrath of the King, the judgment of the kingdom, and the cruel hand of fate.
But the King’s wrath was swift and relentless. His soldiers, driven by fear and loyalty, pursued you with unwavering determination, their numbers overwhelming, their resolve unyielding. They found you before you could escape, their blades striking Chan down, his blood staining the earth a crimson testament to their cruelty.
He fell, his body a lifeless weight in your arms, the warmth of his life fading into the cold embrace of death.
You screamed, a raw, primal sound of grief and despair, a cry that echoed through the forest, shaking the very foundations of the earth. Magic surged through you, wild and untamed, a force unleashed by the depths of your sorrow, a power that threatened to consume everything in its path.
And now, you had a choice, a cruel and agonizing choice that would determine the fate of your love.
Sacrifice your immortality, the very essence of your being, to bring him back, to restore the life that had been so cruelly taken?
Make him immortal, binding his soul to yours, ensuring that you would never lose him again, but condemning him to an eternity haunted by the echoes of your shared past?
Erase his memories, setting him free from the burden of your love, allowing him to live a life untouched by the pain of your intertwined destinies?
Tears streaked down your face, blurring your vision, as you whispered your decision into the wind, a silent prayer, a desperate plea to the forces that governed your lives.
Because love was never the curse, the burden that weighed you down. It was the price, the sacrifice you were willing to make, the ultimate act of devotion. And fate, the cruel architect of your destinies, always demanded to be paid, its debts settled in tears and blood.
You dropped to your knees, your hands trembling as they cupped his face, the skin cold and lifeless. "No, no, no—stay with me," you pleaded, your voice a broken whisper.
His lips barely curled into a weak smile, a final gesture of love. "I found you again," he whispered, his voice fading into the silence. "That’s… enough."
"No!" The word broke from you, raw and desperate, a cry against the injustice of fate. Magic surged within you, a tempest of power, wild and untamed. You could save him. You could tear apart the very fabric of reality, rewrite the cruel ending that had been imposed upon you.
But deep inside, you knew the truth, a truth that echoed in the depths of your soul. If you saved him, bound his soul to yours, he would never be truly free. As long as his soul was tethered to yours, fate would never stop hunting you both, its relentless pursuit a constant threat to your fragile happiness.
Tears burned down your cheeks, a river of sorrow, as you made your final choice, the ultimate act of love and sacrifice. One final spell, a powerful incantation that would erase everything, the past, the memories, the love that had endured beyond lifetimes.
Chan’s body glowed softly under your touch as the magic took hold, the light a gentle caress, a farewell. His pain faded, his wounds healed, but the price was heavy, a sacrifice that would leave a void in your soul.
When his eyes fluttered open, they were blank, devoid of recognition, empty of the love you shared. No memory of your touch, no echo of your laughter, no trace of the past that had bound you together.
You smiled through your tears, a bittersweet expression of love and loss, pressing one last kiss to his forehead, a silent farewell. "Be happy, my love," you whispered, your voice a gentle breeze.
And then you disappeared into the shadows, a wisp of magic, a ghost of a love that had been, watching from afar as he woke to a world where you had never existed, a world where he was free from the chains of your shared destiny.
Fate had stolen your love once, a cruel and unforgiving act. This time, you gave it away, a sacrifice born of love, a testament to the enduring power of your devotion.
168 notes · View notes
eternalbright-star · 1 year ago
Text
Herobrine x F!reader
🌷A/n: Am I really doing this? Of course I am, I want that Herobrine smut but can't find it on here. (First official post on here and it's smut-)
🌷warnings: smut, dubcon/noncon(?), hair pulling, marking, tentacles(just a bit), creampie, aphrodisiac, mentions of stalking, fingering. (let me know if I missed anything)
Tumblr media
You honestly could find it within you to question how you got into this predicament, you just needed to find sugarcane for your farm so you could harvest them and make paper for books in your enchantment table.
But because they were so hard to find near where you had set up base, you needed to travel a bit far across the land, which caused you to be out after sun down, so now you were trying to avoid monsters that come bumping at night.
So with sword and shield equipped, you carefully trudged through the forest, not being able to throw away the feeling that someone must be watching you.
You chalked it up to a wandering trader who managed to drink an invisibility potion to avoid being attacked by zombies, but what didn't come across your mind was you didn't see his usual llama companions around.
You dodged branches and arrows, eyes focused at the path up ahead of you, despite being far from home, you still wanted to get out of the forest, something about it seemed to make you so unnerved and you just wanted to be away where you could have so many vulnerabilities.
Not really noticing the glowing white eyes that stared at you in the dark, nor did you notice tentacles that stalked you in the dark and approached you like a predator would with its prey.
But you did however feel the appendages wrap around your ankle, pulling you down to the forest ground with a shout of surprise as your body collided with the grassy ground.
You twisted your body to look at what had grabbed at your ankle and gasped in horror at the dark tentacle that wrapped itself at your ankle, brain trying to figure out what the source of the tentacle could've come from.
With footsteps being heard, your eyes glance up, causing you to shriek and crawl away as you looked at the being that approached you, with such predatory intent at that.
"Let me go!" You shouted, gripping the handle of your sword tightly and swinging at it, hitting the side of the tentacle. When you did so, a loud shriek was heard as he withdrew his tentacles and took a step back, cradling the injured appendage.
You twisted your body and stood up, nearly tripping and falling on your face as you ran away, lungs burning as you selfishly inhaled oxygen, as you looked back, watching as his silhouette became smaller.
But it didn't seize your running, but you couldn't get far when you were pushed to the ground, you were being pushed from your upper back onto the ground, your cheek making contact with the grass blades below you, “Let me go-” you were interrupted when a tentacle was shoved into your mouth.
Something sweet had ran down your tongue and down your throat, causing you to swallow the sweet substance, the tentacle had slowly retracted, and you tried to get up, but the burning feeling in your body stopped you from doing so.
“Ah…” you breathed heavily as you began to sweat, you tried lifting yourself up using your arms but you couldn't, so you laid there with your head buried in your arms with your ass sticking up in the air.
You quickly flinched as you felt a hand rub your crotch, causing you to make a muffled sound, you turned your head and weakly stared behind you as Herobrine knelt behind you, rubbing you through your pants.
You couldn't help but grind against his hand, trying to seek friction and satiate the pain growing in your lower stomach, so it didn't bother as much as you thought it would when you felt his hand go underneath your clothing, his hand toying with you nipples and how his fingers seemed to rub your folds, gathering up your slick.
Your body jerked when he rubbed your clit particularly hard, eliciting a shrill moan from you, every touch, every caress seemed to make your pussy so wet.
He flipped you onto your back, your eyes making in contact with his white eyes that seemed to glow brightly in the dark, he ran a hand down your thigh and squeezed your ass, while his other gripped your hair to pull your head back to bite you on the neck, eliciting a groan to come out of your mouth.
Your body felt so heavy and hot, and your clothes were not helping at all because of how constricting it was, so you tried to pull your clothes off of you, but was too weak from whatever substance he had made you swallow.
His stare bore into you, but he helped you take your clothes off nonetheless, leaving you in your underwear beneath him, he pushed his hips against your crotch, making you feel the hard on he had as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, he lifted up your bra to let your boobs spill out of the garment, grasping the soft mound and giving it a little squeeze before he took it into his mouth.
Sucking and licking your nipple as he pinched and pulled the other, grinding his cock against your clothed pussy, eliciting a moan out of you, your hand grasping his brown locks as you arched your back .
He let go of your nipple with a 'pop', his thumb hooking onto your panties to pull them off, leaving you bare under him on the grass, the moons light reflecting onto your wet pussy as you laid there all pliant for him to use as he pleases.
He ran his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his fingers before he sensually rubbed your hole, occasionally giving attention to your throbbing clit.
You were so...
So sensitive.
You couldn't help but feel so lost in the pleasure, you couldn't help but cry out when two fingers had entered you, his fingers much thicker than yours were, giving you this feeling of a burning stretch as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside your warm walls.
Being able to hit the spot that even your fingers couldn't during those lonely nights, all while you crumble completely just from his fingers, Herobrine watches you with a careful eye, watching your reactions and changing his pace and direction based on how you reacted and cried out.
His hard-on pressing against your inner thigh as he continued to watch you come undone, even after your first orgasm, he didn't stop, his pace remained the same way, but his thrusts were so hard and precise it had you shaking, that he needed to put a hand on your thigh to stop you from closing your legs.
Once you came a second time, that was when he found you fit to be able to take his cock, he pulled his fingers out of your pussy, his fingers and palm was coated with your juices, he stared at his hand before popping his fingers into his mouth, curious as to what you tasted like.
You watched with lidded eyes as he sensually licked and sucked his fingers of your essence, once he finished licking his finger clean, he leaned forward and buried his face against your neck while he unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hard cock out that leaked precum.
You shivered when you felt the head of his cock was being rubbed against your folds, coating his cock with your slick to lube him up. He licked and sucked at different places on your skin while he teased your hole with his cock.
Whatever skin he could bite and suck on was marked by him, like a show for territorial matter, like he's marking you as his.
When the tip of his cock is pressed against your hole, he could feel your pussy try to already greedily suck him in, pushing inside of you slowly as he leaned against his forearm that was next to your head, his free hand on your hip so he could properly insert himself inside of you without having to squirm so much.
Once he fully bottomed out, your mouth hung open while your eyes seemed to be on the verge of rolling to the back of your head as your sensitive body accepted his full size, his cock was like no other, he seemed to fit so snuggly inside you.
After what felt like minutes, he gave off a few experimental thrusts before fully on thrusting hard into you, changing into a more comfortable position so he could hold your hips with both his hands, to properly grind your hips against his.
As he thrusted inside of you brutally, the sounds of skin on skin contact and your loud moans echoed around the forest, his presence having made any nearby monster avoid the area around the two of you, giving you two the privacy that you needed.
Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders to keep you grounded, but all it did was have his pelvis grind against your clit, adding to the stimulation that had your eyes forming tears in the corner of your eyes from the severe pleasure, feeling so lost in his touch.
You were so perfect.
Herobrine could help but bite your bottom lip, wanting to tease and pleasure you at the same time, but that could be for another time, he could finally be able to get the taste of this pussy of yours.
You'd always felt that you were being stared at, but what you didn't know was who was doing it, he hung around your area ever so often, watching you from your window as you tried to pleasure yourself during those lonely nights.
Now he can be able to pleasure you over and over so many times, as he pleases.
He could feel that you're close, with the way your pussy was clenching his cock tightly, as if it greedily begs for his cum to fill you up.
With a bite of his lip and furrowed eyebrows, he lifted your hips, the new angle had you seeing stars as he hit the right spot over and over, a pornographic moan didn't hesitate to escape your lips as you desperately clung to him, your nails having been clawing at his skin through his shirt.
With a final thrust, the two of you came together, the thread in your belly having been snapped as you shivered, feeling ropes of his hut cum being shoot into you, your body flinching at the feeling of being full.
When you thought it was finally over, he had you flipped onto your stomach and he was thrusting into you over again, pulling in your hair to pull you against him, your back making in contact with his chest as he pounded into you.
The two of you going at it the entire night as he fucked loads and loads of his cum into you, by the end of it, you were spent and the effects of the aphrodisiac had already worn off, and yet you were still begging for his cock.
🌷End note: That's all for today! Hope you guys like this one, I spent too much time writing a full on smut , but here it his, hope you're proud of me!
613 notes · View notes
wiseoldoaktree · 12 days ago
Text
if a revolution needs anything, it needs drums.
trust me bro ive been here since the 1700s idk how no ones cut me down yet
6 notes · View notes
raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago
Note
Hi, I'm really fond of your blog, and I've been desperately trying to find more information about Sage's Island. I know the major landmarks (the schools and the village in the middle) but do we know any specific details about it? Like looking at the map, I can't understand whether any student/staff member would actually walk/use a vehicle down the twisted path connected NRC to the village, or would they use the school mirrors to get down there? Do they use brooms to get around the island (Your post on transportation was quite eye-opening).
I started asking all these questions because I'm trying to write a Jade fanfic, and looking at the map of Sage Island led to several questions. Mainly, I thought that if he were to be exploring mountains and nature in general, would he have to go to lower elevation to be able to hike?
I know I'm focusing a lot on what could be considered plotholes, but I'd love to have your insight on how geography and transport would be on Sage's Island. Thank you!
[ Modes of transportation in Twst resource / How mirror travel works (speculation/theory) ]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In terms of Sage's Island's geography... It is shaped like a chicken drumstick-- It is considered part of the Land of Dawning.
There is NRC to the north, RSA to the south, and Foothill Town in the middle.
There's also a beach on the outskirts of RSA; Epel and Deuce pay a visit to this beach in book 5:
Tumblr media
On the southwest side is a port town called Craneport. The east side of Sage's Island also has a port, but this eastern port is primarily for passenger ships. Craneport is all about cargo and shipping goods. The event Port Fest is all about revitalizing Craneport and bringing business back into the area.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The NRC students get to Foothill Town by bus, which picks them up in front of the school gates. This is shown in numerous vignettes and events, such as Leona's Liongarb, Port Fest, and Azul's Bloom Broom. (However, they must first get permission from a staff member in order to leave campus.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Deuce borrows a magiwheel/blastcycle from Ignihyde so he and Epel can speed to the beach. It's quite a distance away from NRC, even further away than Foothill Town, so I guess he wanted to quickly cover ground.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
To reach the mines, mountains, or forest, we see Adeuce, Yuu, and Grim, as well as Vargas, use the Mirror of Darkness to instantly teleport them there. This is most likely because their destinations are quite far (probably off Sage's Island) and they need to get there quickly (Adeuce are on a 1 day deadline and Vargas is planning a 3-day long training camp).
Jade doesn't seem to really specify where he hikes or which mountains he explores, so... I'm not sure what the distance he travels is? There's woods behind campus, so maybe Jade has been there before. I assume if he goes off-campus, his club already has permission to do so.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Students don't typically use brooms for travel. (Malleus and Lilia can levitate or fly though.) There’s an instance in Playful Land: “Poor Jamil... He said he was worried about Kalim and took off toward school on a broom the moment the basketball game ended.” (Can we count Wish Lantern since students use the brooms to get altitude but technically don’t travel anywhere?) We mainly see brooms in Flight class.
My guess is that it's just not magically economical to fly on a broom whenever you want to go somewhere, especially for long distances or for inexperienced mages. You would build up a needless amount of blot (when I'm assuming you need that energy to actually carry out errands or to do your magical homework or whatever). I’m not sure if the students keep their own individual brooms for travel; the brooms seem to be either school equipment or regular ass brooms they grab and enchant during Flight class.
I don't recall instances of how the staff get to and from campus, but Crewel does mention (in his Rich Fur Coat vignettes) having an apartment in Foothill Town as well as a place of residence back home in the Queendom of Roses. Crewel's special interest is vintage cars and he also says he would love to be able to drive along the ocean with his dogs, but he does not actually say that he drives to and from work.
All I can say is, it definitely would NOT be feasible to walk all the way to Foothill Town or the beach. No one's about to waste X hours trudging down that perilous path to eat at the local burger joint 😭
106 notes · View notes
jadeshifting · 7 months ago
Text
— THE HOGWARTS NEWSPAPER
Tumblr media Tumblr media
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
i’ve had this in my script and my drafts for a while, but i saw @beatrixshifts mention on my tl that it would be cool so that’s why i’m posting it >:)
(also, I did not come up with the name of the newspaper, i got it from another user yearsss ago, so cred to them !!)
“The Daily Prophet and their flobberworm of a head reporter can keep their drama— we don’t twist our stories to fit some stale Ministry narrative.” — The Editor-in-Chief of The Puffinton Post
THE PUFFINGTON POST is a chaotic yet strangely efficient operation run out of a repurposed classroom on the third floor (which is lovingly referred to as The Quillery.) run by a rotating team of overachievers, gossipmongers, and one sleep-deprived layout wizard, it’s both a battlefield of deadlines and the social pulse of the school. the editors use enchanted Quick-Quotes Quills to speed up production, though it’s anyone’s guess if the quills capture actual facts or just the juiciest version of the truth
HOW IT’S RUN
the team is led by an Editor-in-Chief (usually a loud, opinionated seventh-year), assisted by a handful of section editors who wield red-inked quills like weapons. each week, they hold heated brainstorming meetings, where the room crackles with enchanted floating parchment and enough spilled tea (literal and metaphorical) to fill the Great Lake. submissions are open to any student, but staff writers get first dibs on big stories—assuming they can charm the editors, who love a bit of drama
THE NEWSPAPER TEAM
REPORTERS . scout the juiciest gossip, biggest news, and weirdest happenings on campus. practically unstoppable, they’ll dive into the Forbidden Forest for a scoop if it means landing the front page
EDITORS . ruthlessly revise articles and argue over headlines, aiming for maximum drama without ending up on a professor’s radar
PHOTOGRAPHERS . armed with charmed cameras that capture moving images, they often risk life and limb chasing Quidditch players mid-match or snapping Peeves in action
ILLUSTRATORS . craft whimsical moving cartoons or hauntingly detailed sketches, depending on the tone of the piece
LAYOUT TEAM . use advanced spellwork to arrange articles, images, and enchanting advertisements that sometimes wink at readers
SECTIONS & NOTABLE STORIES
HEADLINE NEWS . covers Hogwarts’ biggest events. Recent splashy stories include “Are the House-Elves Planning a Union?” and “Hagrid’s Pumpkin Patch: A Site of Magical Growth or Magical Mischief?”
QUIDDITCH CORNER . tracks team stats, with columns like “Is Gryffindor’s Seeker Actually a Golden Snitch Magnet?”
SOCIAL SPOTLIGHT . a slightly catty, endlessly entertaining rundown of who’s dating, who’s fighting, and who’s been caught sneaking butterbeer into the Astronomy Tower
MYSTERIES & ODDITIES . a deep dive into Hogwarts lore, featuring pieces like “The Hidden Staircase That Eats Shoes” and “Who Really Haunts the Fourth Floor Lavatory?”
OPINION & SATIRE . snarky takes on everything from new potion regulations to the controversial topic of house unity, with regular features like “Why Ravenclaws Think They Know Everything” (written by a Ravenclaw)
CREATIVE SHOWCASE . poems, short stories, and student artwork, like “An Ode to Dobby” or fine-tip pen sketches of the Black Lake’s grindylows
DISTRIBUTION
The Puffington Post is distributed every Friday morning via enchanted paper airplanes that zoom directly to breakfast tables in the Great Hall. the magic wears off if you take too long to read, so dawdling isn’t an option. prefects often complain about students reading under their desks during Charms, but professors secretly subscribe, too.
SPECIAL EDITIONS (every one is a chaotic affair, jam-packed with so much Hogwarts spirit you can almost smell the butterbeer stains on the parchment)
— THE VALENTINE’S SPECIAL : Love, Lies, and Lacewing Potions
this edition is dripping with enchanted hearts and aggressively pink margins, with stories like “Top 10 Secret Spots to Swoon Your Sweetheart” and “The Most Romantic Love Potions You Absolutely Shouldn’t Use (But Totally Will).” the gossip column goes full throttle, outing secret crushes (with questionable accuracy), while the Creative Showcase features poetry so sappy even Madam Pince has been caught dabbing at her eyes
— THE FIRST-YEAR SURVIVAL GUIDE : Sorting, Snitches, and Surviving Snape
released every September, it’s a crash course for newbies. expect practical tips like “How to Get the Moving Stairs to Chill” and “10 Ways to Not Cry in Potions (Impossible, But Worth Trying).” veteran students contribute anonymously to the “Unofficial Rules” section, which includes gems like “Don’t Look the Bloody Baron in the Eye” and “If Fred and George Weasley Offer You Candy, Run.”
— THE YULE BALL EDITION : Fashion, Feuds, and Footwork
a glossy, glitzy masterpiece with enchanted images of past Yule Ball outfits and step-by-step charms for fixing last-minute wardrobe disasters. the Social Spotlight section is essentially a pre-ball betting pool on who’s showing up with whom, while Opinion dives into debates like “Should Durmstrang Boys Be Banned from Stealing All the Dates?”
— THE END-OF-TERM SPECTACULAR : Grades, Gags, and the Great House Cup Debate
published in June, it’s part celebration, part roast. professors get “awards” (like Flitwick for Most Patient and Snape for Most Likely to Kill You with a Glare), and there’s always a cheeky exposé on house-point shenanigans. expect tear-jerking farewells to seventh-years alongside brutally honest year-in-review recaps, like “Was That a Troll in the Dungeon or Just Another Tuesday?”
EXTRA, EXTRA !!
— RIVALRY . there’s a (very one-sided) feud with The Weekly Wizard, a smaller Ravenclaw-run zine, though it’s been dismissed by most students as “too niche and painfully dull”
— BEHIND THE SCENES . the staff always keeps a stash of Honeydukes’ chocolate for late-night edits, and their mascot—a tiny enchanted quill named Zippy—flits around leaving motivational doodles on unfinished articles
if Hogwarts has a pulse, The Puffington Post is the enchanted quill jotting down every thrilling, bizarre, and scandalous beat
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆. ࿐࿔
229 notes · View notes
shhhsecretsideblog · 1 year ago
Text
No Time To Hide
This was something I wrote for an Imagine You’re Pregnant prompt, original post here. Thought I’d make a side blog and post it here as well cos I really enjoyed writing this and might be tempted to write more birth fics
Eva opened the wooden window of her small cottage, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair. The smell of woodland and damp grass filled her nostrils as she took a long, calming breath.
Describing herself as a green witch, Eva loved her little cottage hidden away from everyone deep within the rich forest. Coven life was never something that appealed to her; the idea of being constantly surrounded by other witches, their opinions and their magic, was torture for Eva. She much preferred her own company, free to live her life the way she wanted. Free to use her own style of magic, without the distraction or judgement of others. It was why she decided to live here in the heart of the forest. There was a river that flowed through the centre of the woodland, the ancient trees stood tall around her home, and the forest floor was packed with all manner of plant life. It was perfect; just her, the elements and Mother Nature.
Despite her preference of living alone, as time passed Eva began to yearn for something… it wasn’t romance or friendship, but the idea of a child. Children were never something she had considered, but as she grew older Eva had begun to see the benefit of having children. Someone to pass all her knowledge and wisdom to, someone to love and care for and share all that she’d learnt. She wanted to pass on this way of living, to create a legacy.
A few months ago, nine to be exact, she enchanted a local townsman - not that he would ever remember it. And now here she was, rocking side to side and cradling the underneath of her heavily pregnant stomach, preparing herself as birth drew near.
The cramps had started yesterday afternoon, small and barely noticeable at first. Eva had been terribly uncomfortable these last few weeks, suffering constant aches and twinges, so she did not immediately give them any thought. However when they got sharper and more frequent, forcing her to pause whatever she was doing, they soon got her full attention.
Not knowing how long this could take but knowing she would eventually lose mobily as her labour progressed, she collected all her preparations and got the supplies ready. Blankets, towels, sterilised medical equipment, all within easy reach in the main living room. Snacks and drinks lay available on the coffee table and a pot of hot water sat by the open fire keeping a constant warm temperature.
“Mmmnnngghhhhh” Eva moaned deeply as the latest wave peaked. She leaned forward resting her elbows on the window sill, jutting her hips back and swaying them slightly. The baby was low and heavy in her pelvis, the head pressing downwards as her body slowly opened up.
When the latest pain had eased Eva straightened and looked down at her swollen stomach, speaking lovingly towards her unborn babe. “You’re really coming aren’t you little one? I’ve not done this before so please take it easy on me.” Her child responded with a gentle kick prompting the witch to smile.
Over the next few hours Eva got into a good rhythm riding out the contractions, each one hitting sooner than the last and with incrementally more vigour. She paced, rocked, squatted, kneeled, trying to find any comfortable position to ride out the waves. Her low and heavy stomach made moving from position to position cumbersome; one hand staying on her bump or her lower back at any given time, while the other kept her supported on whatever furniture or surface was nearby.
As the contractions ramped up, creeping steadily towards unbearable, the witch’s teeth clenched tight and she growled behind them. Three minutes apart. Holding on to the back of her armchair Eva lowered herself into a deep squat. Sweat covered every inch of her body, her thin linen dress and underwear clinging to every curve of her fertile frame.
Her hips were in agony, the pressure building. She opened her mouth to wail but no sound came out, shocked into silence by a sudden burst between her open thighs. Immediately the pressure eased and Eva could catch her breath again. The wooden floor below her feet was soaked; her waters had broken.
“Oooooooh okay- We’re getting so close- Are you ready to come out now baby? I cannot wait to meet you.”
Eva stood up, cradling the curve of her spasming bump. Her bare feet stepped ungainly out of the puddle on the floor and she quickly threw a tea towel down to soak up the worst of it.
“It’s just you and me, little one. We can do this.” Eva reassured herself, rubbing circles around her swell, preparing for the intensity to soar now her waters had gone.
However, before the next contraction could strike the witch startled at the sudden loud interruption of ringing bells. Rapid and urgent, the piercing chimes echoed all around her cottage, howling through every room.
Witch hunter!
The enchantments set up around her hidden home in the forest hadn’t gone off in decades - she had almost forgotten the wards were still in place. And yet the incessant ringing immediately chilled her to her very bones, suddenly haunting her with long forgotten memories of the brutal murders of her fellow witches.
Her stomach clenched with a new, different sensation - fear. At any other time Eva would arm herself with weapons and potions and storm outside on the offence, making sure to take down her enemy before he had the opportunity to strike. But now… the pressing weight in her hips and the constant aching of her contracting womb showed she was in no position to attack, or even defend herself, if put up against a murderous witch hunter.
She had to get out of here. The warning bells throughout her home would soon reach the ears of the witch hunter and then he would beeline straight to her hidden sanctuary. She needed to find somewhere else to hide.
Distracted by the chimes, Eva was unprepared for the next contraction when it ripped across her body, rooting her to the spot. She doubled over in pain, palms planted firmly on her thighs.
“Unnnhhhhhhhhhhhh no-no-no-no……” she whimpered through strained breaths as the pain skyrocketed and her belly hardened. Panting heavily the witch ignored growing desire to bear down. Her waters had broken, she was probably almost fully dilated, if not already. But she couldn’t stay here. If she stayed, both her and her child would certainly be killed. She had to leave and find somewhere safe to deliver this baby.
After what felt like an eternity, the contraction finally faded and she bolted straight out the back door of her cottage, leaving barefoot with nothing but the clothes on her back. She had wasted precious minutes since the warning alarm riding out that last pain - she couldn’t afford to waste any more time gathering supplies to take with her. Eva took off as quickly as she could, disappearing deep into the lush green forest.
She barely got out of sight behind the first set of oak trees before another contraction was already upon her. Two minutes apart. Leaning against the rough bark of the nearest tree, Eva squeezed her eyes shut and tried hard to swallow the whimper creeping out her throat. The unbearable pressure was demanding in its silent request and her knees trembled with the effort of ignoring it. The baby was so heavy, and dangerously low. Feeling like it would just fall out if she took a step too wide. Yet she remained strong, persevering and weathering the storm in her uterus, determined to keep this baby inside of her until she got somewhere safe.
The second the pain let up an inch the witch was on the move again running as fast as she could across the forest floor. Over ferns and moss, rocks and fallen branches, thankfully the hardened soles of her bare feet were used to the uneven terrain. She made sure to keep off the main footpath and stayed hidden within the dense trees, but it made for more of an obstacle course than she’d like. With added weight of her labouring belly she couldn’t move at speed and on a few occasions nearly lost her balance. But deeper and deeper into the forest she went.
The trees became her allies, providing cover and support when she was forced to stop with each new powerful contraction… 90 seconds apart... 60 seconds apart. A large, ancient willow tree with an unusually curved trunk was the latest comrade in her fight for survival. Eva had pitched herself within the alcove of the trunk, out of sight and leaning back against the bark, lifting the weight of her hardened stomach with both hands. The long hanging branches brushed the forest floor in a circle around her position, hiding the witch behind a nature-made curtain.
“Grnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Eva could no longer hold in the animalistic sounds of her extremely advanced labour. The baby was right there, nestled deep in her widened cervix, desperate to be born.
“Nooooooooo-please-baby-wait-a-bit-moreeeeeee-” she begged through gritted teeth. The next contraction started before the current had even finished and the need to push was too powerful to refrain. Knees bending and thighs widening, Eva’s body pushed of its own accord.
It felt right, pushing. It was what she was meant to be doing - to follow nature's primal instinct. And yet she couldn’t forget the very real threat of the witch hunter, still hidden somewhere in this forest, poised and primed to kill her.
The fierce contraction continued to hold her hostage. A long grunt escaped her mouth as her body pushed along with the pain.
“I can hear you, witch!” A gravelled voice taunted from across the thick forest.
Eva’s eyes widened and immediately clamped her mouth shut, biting her lips together drawing blood. Half squatting against the tree, every muscle in her body continued to strain as it forced the baby lower and lower and lower. She couldn’t stop pushing even if she tried. One of the hands cradling her stomach shakily ventured south, lifting up her dress and feeling between her legs. Through the thin damp fabric of her underwear she could feel the baby’s head begin to enter the world.
She panted silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The forest stretched out for miles, completely uninhabited in all directions; she was all alone. There was nowhere to go and no one to help. Heavily pregnant, being hunted, and seconds away from birthing this child.
A loud snap of wood echoed from a few metres away. Eva suddenly bolted like a startled deer, consumed entirely by fear and survival, and disappeared again into the thickened wood. She ran, wide legged, the heavy boulder of a baby’s head deep in her pelvis screaming to be born. Push! Her body cried out. Stop running and PUSH!
But she couldn’t. If she stopped she’d be dead.
Another contraction ripped through her as she ran. 30 seconds apart. Her muscles tensed and squeezed as she ran, her body trying to force the baby out despite the mother’s desire to hold on a bit longer. She could barely stay upright, the raw adrenaline no longer enough to keep this birth at bay. Her legs became jelly, all she could feel was pain and pressure and fear. Eva faltered, she couldn’t go any further. Out in the open she planted her hands against the nearest tree, widening her stance, and pushed. Hard.
“Mnnnnnnnrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!”
More of her baby’s head began to appear behind the fabric of her tight underwear.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh-Hecateeeeeeeeeeee!” she whimpered, praying to the deity.
Her baby was close to fully crowning, she could feel it. The white hot agony of being widened and stretched beyond anything she imagined made her eyes water and throat nauseous. She retched, a dry heave, and desperately tried to catch a breath through the dual need to push and the sudden urge to vomit. The texture of the rough bark beneath her palms was the only thing keeping the witch semi-grounded and preventing her getting swept away in the overwhelming sensations currently tearing her body apart. Still bracing the tree, Eva’s head dipped as she took slow deep breaths, ignoring the instinct to push in order to ride out the sudden nausea.
An ominous whistling sound drifted through the trees carried on the wind. Eva could barely hear it over the thundering beating of her heart, that is until she heard:
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The voice sang.
The witch hunter was close. But so was her baby... Eva felt between her legs again to evaluate just how bad her situation was. It was bad. Her underwear was stretched beyond repair as it housed a significant portion of her baby’s head, filling her cupped palm. Ignoring all the pain and her body’s pleas to push, she panted heavily and tried to think! She needed a plan to survive.
The witch hunter had physical strength, yes, but he did not know these woods like Eva did. This was her home, her sanctuary, and she knew every inch like the back of her hand. Beyond her laboured breaths and the unnerving whistling of the approaching witch hunter, Eva registered another sound nearby - the swooshing sound of running water. The river - she was by the river!
Lifting her head the witch frantically scanned the surrounding area, getting her bearings of where she’d ended up within the woodland. She was a few hundred yards from the river’s edge, about a mile from her cottage. It wasn’t an area she often visited because of…. That’s it! Okay, it wasn’t a great plan, and there was no way to know if it would work, but it was her only shot of survival.
She took a steadying breath through the current contraction squeezing her womb, fighting once more against the primal need to push. The baby’s head filled her underwear, millimetres from a full crown. If she pushed again there was no way she’d be able to stop until the head was fully born.
Whimpering through the pain Eva stood up straight, one hand staying between her legs, and she prepared herself to move. Just get to the river. She told herself before making her way unsteadily east.
The sound of rushing water grew louder as she stumbled slowly through the forest. One step. Another step. Nearly there. She knew exactly where to go, and where to avoid, desperately trying to stay focussed on her surroundings and not succumb to the agonising pain crowning between her thighs. Keep going.
“You can’t escape me, witch!” The voice threatened, getting closer.
Eva stumbled into the side of a tree, her bare shoulder scraping against the bark. Pausing, she took a brief moment to breathe through the pain. It was a mistake. The second she stopped to inhale deeply her body started bearing down again, forcing the baby down. Immediately the head came to a full crown in her damp underwear and she screamed.
“WITCH!” The murderous voice roared.
Eva turned and saw a flash of black leather through the distant trees, and it was coming her way. Cupping the baby’s head she tentatively wobbled forwards, knees trembling, staggering towards the riverbank. The blinding pain was constant, her eyes barely focussing. She had to make it to the exact right spot or her plan would certainly fail. Her footsteps were shaky but determined as she continued the last few carefully placed steps in her journey. Behind her the crunching sound of a disturbed forest floor drew ever closer.
Reaching the river’s edge Eva collapsed against the large boulder that sat on the grassy bank. She made it. Turning around against the stone, the cold granite pressed against her back as she faced the woods and waited for the imminent arrival of the witch hunter. But the baby’s head inched lower, her body stretched to its absolute limit. She wanted to cry, to howl, to scream. Instead she focussed inward, drawing on all the power from the earth under her feet, and taking a deep breath she finally, and intentionally, followed her body’s demands. Teeth gritted, a growl behind them, she pushed with everything she had. Her whole body trembled, bearing down against the pressure of the large round head slowly appearing between her thighs. The ears… a nose… she could feel it all. Her hands frantically scrambled under her dress and within seconds the baby’s head popped out into her underwear and she cupped it quickly within her palm. The relief was instant and for a brief moment Eva’s heart calmed as she held her child’s newly born crown.
The witch’s reprieve was short-lived as the approaching footsteps from behind one of the nearby trees resulted in another person soon entering the river's edge. The witch hunter was dark haired, full beard, but was not as athletic as Eva was expecting. There was sweat glistening on his temple and dripping down his neck, disappearing beneath a thick leather jacket. His mouth practically drooled at the sight of her and he gripped the long hunting knife in his hand. The lust for her death was haunting.
“At last… you’ve given it a good go, I’ll give you that, but you cannot escape your fate.” The man said as he took a step towards her, threateningly swishing the knife in readiness. “You are an abomination, evil incarnate. Witchcraft has no place here. My family has been taking your lot out for centuries. And it looks like I get the honour of not only killing you… but the next generation as well.” He glared at her pregnant swell.
“No- no! This- this child is innocent…” Eva panted, still holding the head of her half-born babe hidden under the draped fabric of her dress.
The witch hunter scoffed and took another two ominous steps in her direction through the fallen autumn leaves. Eva watched each step with a laser focus.
“No descendant of a witch is truly innocent.” He drawled, tilting his head with an unnerving animalistic incline. “Wickedness will run through its veins, there is no saving its soul.”
Eva couldn’t take her eyes off his feet, watching every step he took. She chose this location for a reason, knowing she needed to end up exactly here by the rivers edge - dangerously using herself as bait. His heavy boots crunched through the orange leaves, sauntering slowly towards her like he was toying with his prey. So close. Her heart stopped, breath held as Eva prayed to all the Goddesses for her plan to work. Then whoosh!
The witch hunter was suddenly hoisted in the air by his foot, caught in a primitive trap laid here many years ago by the previous inhabitants of these woods, whom were long dead and forgotten. The man roared as he was pulled sharply towards the sky, his arms flailing, the hunting knife falling from his hand in his shock.
Eva exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in pure relief. The steady thumping of heart pulsed around her body, beating once more now the immediate threat disappeared. The man yelled and shouted at her as he hung limply from the tree, but the sound barely registered with the witch. Her senses had been overtaken by the sudden movement of the baby, turning inside her, and an all too familiar urgent weight pressing down signalling her work was not yet over.
Eva tried to move but she was too far gone, too deep in labour, every muscle seemingly locked in position. “Unhhhhhhhh Hecate….. mnnnggghhhhh the baby- the baby is comingg…..” she whimpered, the pain splitting her in half as she was stretched once more with the baby’s shoulders. All her bodyweight was pressed back against the boulder, and she managed to sink towards the ground. Squatting deeply, her large rounded stomach rested heavily between her thighs.
“Ohhhh it’s coming…. I- need… mnghhhhhhhh I’ve got to… got to pushh...”
She ripped off her underwear as the next contraction started, freeing the baby’s head from the confines of the damp linen. With both hands ready to catch, the witch pushed with renewed determination. “Urghhhhhhhhhhhh!” One shoulder was out! Then the next shoulder. She took a breath, panting, holding the child dangling from her body. Eva became suddenly hyper-aware of the breeze and leaves, the nearby river and the crisp autumn air, all the elements surrounding them which her child was now being born directly into. Trembling, she beared down fiercely once more and within another few minutes a newly born witch entered the world.
Eva sobbed with relief, quickly pulling her daughter up over her stomach and placing her against her chest. The infant made a soft gurgling sound, her first breath, and then started to cry. To a new mother it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound in the world.
“Disgusting…. Filthy little vermin.” The witch hunter sneered with venom.
Eva had forgotten her audience and looked up with hatred at the man still swinging upside down from the tree. She held her baby tight and secure against her skin, as if shielding the child from the mere sight of him.
“You should drown that thing in the river.” He spat.
Red, blinding fury overwhelmed the new mother. With the pain gone and her baby safe in arms, pure fury raced through every pore of the witch’s body, consuming every atom of her being. Rising slowly, babe still clutched in hand, Eva approached the hanging man with eyes glowing with revenge.
“When I get free, I'm gonna enjoy splitting you from ear to ear!” He roared.
Her head tilted in observation watching the man’s disgusting arrogance in his determination to kill her despite still struggling against the rope binding his leg. Apparently unaware his threats were idle and his attempts to escape the trap were futile.
The witch bent down carefully to pick up the large silver blade that had fallen amongst the browning leaves. The man didn’t see the new mother pick up his weapon, and didn't notice the switch when the hunted became the hunter. Eva stalked silently, murderously towards the hanging man.
Before he could open his mouth to mock or belittle or challenge her, Eva’s hand swished past his vision in a flash, the blade gliding through the witch hunter's throat like a knife through butter. The man’s eyes widened, taking a heartbeat to register what just happened, before the cascade of blood erupted from the open wound and he began to choke and splutter.
Eva dropped the knife.
Delicately readjusting and shhhing the newborn cradled in her arm, she took one final look and started their journey back to the cottage. Eva found comfort in the sounds of the forest; of the flowing river, the whistle of a breeze, and the drip drip dripping of her enemies blood now pooling onto the forest floor.
506 notes · View notes
thewriteadviceforwriters · 6 months ago
Note
Hi! I read your posts offering tips on how to describe dark coastal and academia settings. They were super helpful! I was wondering if you had any writing tips for dark forests..? Hope it wasn't too big of an ask. Thanks for your time!
I truly love this so much! I apologize for the delay in my post. I tend to put things off sometimes, I'm a serial procrastinator and it took me a little while to gather my thoughts on what you might encounter in dark forests. But hopefully these are similar to what you wanted!
✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜List of Random Things For Your Dark Forests Settings | For Writers
✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜
The Overgrown Trail 🌿
Winding dirt path obscured by tangled roots and underbrush
Twisted, gnarled tree trunks reaching up to block the sky
Shafts of pale moonlight cutting through the thick canopy
The distant hoot of an owl and the chittering of unseen creatures
The earthy, damp scent of decaying leaves and moss
The Abandoned Cabin 🏚️
Dilapidated wooden structure, its paint peeling and windows boarded up
Cobwebs draped across the porch railing and doorframe
The creak of warped floorboards and the groan of the sagging roof
Rusted tools and broken furniture scattered among the weeds
The stale, musty odor of neglect and the faint tang of rot
The Moonlit Glade 🌕
A small clearing, the grass blanketed in a carpet of wildflowers
Gnarled, ancient trees ringing the open space like silent sentinels
Faint wisps of fog drifting across the still surface of a dark pond
The soft susurration of leaves in the gentle breeze
The faint glow of bioluminescent mushrooms dotting the forest floor
The Winding Stream 🌊
A burbling brook cutting through the undergrowth, its water crystal-clear
Thick, twisted roots breaking through the soil along the banks
Schools of darting minnows and the occasional flash of a trout
Clusters of delicate ferns and mosses clinging to the damp rocks
The soothing sound of rushing water over the pebbles
The Ritual Circle 🕯️
A ring of large, moss-covered stones in a small, secluded clearing
Remnants of burned candles and wilted flower petals scattered within
Carved wooden totems or animal skulls adorning the perimeter
Thin wisps of incense smoke curling up towards the treetops
The eerie silence, broken only by the distant cry of a raven
The Fog-Shrouded Ravine 🌫️
A deep chasm obscured by tendrils of swirling mist
Gnarled, skeletal trees clinging to the steep, rocky sides
The faint sound of running water echoing up from the unseen depths
Thick vines and twisted roots snaking across the uneven ground
The chill of the damp air, raising goosebumps on bare skin
The Witch's Cottage 🧙‍♀️
A crooked, thatched-roof hut nestled between the twisted trees
Dried herbs and animal bones hanging from the eaves
Smoke curling from the chimney, the scent of charred wood and herbs
A small garden of nightshade, mandrake, and other sinister plants
The eerie cackling of the resident witch, her shadow glimpsed through the windows
The Forgotten Graveyard 🪦
Crumbling, moss-covered headstones half-submerged in the undergrowth
Skeletal tree branches reaching down like grasping hands
Ravens perched atop the weathered grave markers, cawing ominously
Shreds of tattered funeral wreaths and faded flowers scattered about
An unearthly chill in the air, as if the spirits of the dead linger
The Enchanted Pool 🌙
A small, still body of water reflecting the night sky above
Luminescent flora blooming along the murky banks
Schools of glimmering, ethereal fish drifting through the depths
Mist swirling across the surface, obscuring the view of the bottom
The faint sound of otherworldly music drifting from unseen sources
The Cursed Clearing 🕳️
A barren, circular area devoid of vegetation, as if scorched by dark magic
Twisted, blackened tree trunks surrounding the perimeter like sentinels
Jagged shards of obsidian-like rock piercing up from the soil
The crunch of bone-dry leaves and twigs underfoot, shattering the silence
An oppressive aura of dread and unnatural stillness permeating the air
173 notes · View notes
tolkienhorrorweek · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Welcome to Tolkien Horror Week! This is a new event, following in the footsteps of Terrifying Tolkien Week, last run in 2019. This event celebrates all things spooky and creepy in Tolkien's work—both the things he tells us explicitly and the things he leaves up to our imaginations.
The event will run from October 27th to November 2nd and accepts all types of fanworks. There is an AO3 collection for the event here.
Below are some suggested prompts for each day of the week. They are not mandatory; feel free to combine them or disregard them entirely.
Day 1: Angband & Utumno | seeth all things crooked | captivity Day 2: Angmar, Rhudaur, & Minas Morgul | of such dread and dark enchantment | sorcery Day 3: Mordor & the Dead Marshes | the pitiless land | control Day 4: The Barrow-downs & the Old Forest | the clinging mists | corruption Day 5: Mirkwood, Nan Elmoth, & Taur-nu-Fuin | the shadows grew long in the forest | hunting Day 6: Nan Dungortheb & the Paths of the Dead | by perilous paths | terror Day 7: Isengard, Moria, & Númenor | we cannot get out | trapped
Please mention @tolkienhorrorweek in the body of your post and tag #tolkienhorrorweek and #tolkienhorrorweek2024 in the first 10 tags. You may also submit a post.
Given the nature of the event, please also tag for any potential triggers or content warnings and place any NSFW content beneath a read more/link to AO3.
For more information, please see the FAQ. If you have any questions, drop them in the ask box.
Art is by Alan Lee.
259 notes · View notes