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sunderwight · 7 days

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SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #this is luo binghe's palace now shen qingqiu just lives there #the only hiccup is that binghe is strangely bad at convincing anyone else to come work at the palace #shen qingqiu encouraged him to assist in finding other help but somehow binghe always comes up empty handed #oh well guess they'll have to continue living there just the two of them with no one else #(this eventually does change but binghe sulks for WEEKS about it)

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cephalopod-celabrator · 7 months

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I think it's a shame that there was never a discworld book involving Moist Von Lipwig facing the elves. Because I would pay so much money to see that. The elves are dangerous and some of them have seriously powerful magic, but for the most part they're creatures of glamour. They entrance, trick, deceive, and intimidate. But the thing is, Moist is even better at it than they are. Moist's primary skills are just his sheer audacity and charisma. The elves are creatures of stories, and Moist knows how to spin a story better than anyone. Plus, it's mentioned elves often try to use their glamour to overwhelm humans with sheer feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. And while Moist doesn't like plenty of things about himself, he's incredibly good at hiding it. As I said, he's a man with audacity. It could also draw an interesting parallel showing how elves aren't much more than he is, just magical con-artists but at least he's trying to be better now. Bonus: Adora Belle Dearheart vs the elves. She has an even more ironclad sense of self-confidence than Moist. Plus she has golems, which would likely be unaffected by both elf glamour and elf swords, and goblins which were formerly enslaved by the elves and are a vengeful people with access to a lot of iron. It would also be funny if they were hyper-sensitive to her cigar smoke or something

#terry pratchett #discworld #moist von lipwig #adora belle dearheart #elves discworld #elves #gnu terry pratchett #If I had the time and energy to write fanfic this would be one of the things I'd do #making money #going postal #raising steam

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holybibly · 12 days

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This is a little preview of my new series and yes, bunnies, this is a whole series from me. I hope everyone is ready for an erotic dystopia?

Decadent dystopian erotica with majestic dragons - second teaser for today

Glass House Ateez x reader

Everything changed in an instant.

The king was dead, and thousands of dragons took to the burning skies. The old world was over, and a 'new age' was in the making—an age of gods and monsters.

A thousand years ago, the fires of revolution blazed across the face of the world. Dragons—the creatures of ancient legends and children's fairy tales—reduced the once prosperous world to ashes in a matter of minutes. Rivers of black blood coursed through the veins of the streets, flooding the cities and lands in their wake. The sky was a blaze of purple flames and electric shocks. The church was reduced to rubble, and the royal family was executed in a public display. In the eyes of the dead, the unspoken horror in front of these majestic creatures remained forever, and in the sparks of the flames, they shimmered like precious sea stones.

There was a bitter smell of burning flesh and ash in the air. It was the smell of dreams on fire—the smell of a future in decay.

It was the beginning of the end of ancient life. The beginning of a new world. The Age of Immortality has begun.

All the legends turned out to be true; dragons did exist. They had always lived close to us, lurking in the velvety darkness of the night, waiting for the hour. Waiting for the hour to come when the power would be in their hands. Dangerous, unbridled, wild creatures of magic and the elements, predators at the top of the food chain. They had come into the world to rule, not to obey, and now, at long last, their time had come.

The world was at anarchy. Dragons were killing, raping, and enslaving races and lands as if it were an amusing child's game. They drank blood as black as the night from golden bowls, and they ate our succulent flesh as our bones cracked under the pressure of their razor-sharp teeth. They would hold orgies in the midst of the torn corpses and revel in their omnipotence. Those were the days of darkness. A time of terror, when the very word danger was a synonym for life itself. And so it went for several years, until the ultimate power fell into the clutches of the deadly Children of the Night, the oldest of all dragons.

The majestic Hala.

Eternal as the moon itself and deadly as the uncharted depths of the ocean, they inspired burning terror in all who encountered them. To their people, they were nothing more than a myth, a legend written on fragments of tablets. Forefathers, ancestors—they had hundreds of names, but each one inspired more fear than the last. They were predators among predators, bristling with animal dominance and primal, unbridled sexuality. They exuded power and sinfulness. They were the ones who defined the rules and set the boundaries of what was permissible.

With the arrival of Hala, a new phase in the history of the world began.

Humanity was enslaved, and dragons became the dominant species. As the years went by, the human population began to decline rapidly, with fewer and fewer humans, until "our" species reached the status of gatherers. Angelicus Nova, or Angel Stars, was what we came to be called. Human existence took on a strange religious orientation; we were worshipped, idolized, and adored, but despite all this, humans remained nothing more than a rare exchangeable currency, nothing more than an expensive trinket that was prestigious to own and could be broken with a flick of the wrist.

The human being also became one of the ways in which money flowed endlessly. These institutions were known as "glass houses." Gateway to heaven. They would be the equivalent of strip clubs or luxury escort houses if you and I were in the old world. The rules were the same: "Look, but don't touch." Girls and boys were expensive pieces of family jewelry that rested under the glass of fancy display cases. Our masters showed us off to the greedy eyes of the world with all the pride and ostentation that dragons have.

In spite of their possessive, animalistic nature, dragons were nothing more than swaggering bastards with inflated egos and delusions of grandeur.

Humans could be anything as long as dragons owned us—a muse, an innamorata, a nymph, an angel, a siren, or even a goddess—but like everything else in the universe, we came at a price.

The 'glass houses' were only in operation at night. During the day, all the 'jewels' rested and tidied up after tiring hours of contemplation of the world through the bluish glass of the display window. Nice, obliging workers in starched white collars were busy with the cleaning, scrubbing the baroque decorations of the vetrines with great care from a mixture of sperm, drool, and other secretions. You looked at it with an almost reverent awe, finding it disgusting to the point of bordering on the pornographically beautiful.

You could see it as real art—crude and original, but art nonetheless. There was something particularly mesmerizing about it, almost hypnotic, about the way the thick, pearly sperm dripped slowly from the golden flowers.

Of all the glass houses that ever existed, "Eros" was the most beautiful. It was the jewel in the crown of the New Empire, and you were its goddess. There were rumors that the Hala themselves were customers of 'Eros'. But rumors were only rumors. If they were ever to visit your 'home', you would know about it, for they would be where all men ended up—at your feet.

You were content with the life that you were living. There was no tragedy and no misery, no abusive family or abusive peers, no bullying and harassment at school—no, you had it all great. You were born here at Eros—the growth and blossoming of a beautiful flower. Your whole life has been within the confines of glass rooms and silk sheets, but unlike your dreamy friends, you weren't in need of rescue.

Your name is Aphrodite. Born in the radiance of the Creator. A goddess among goddesses, carved out of marble and mother of pearl. Your hair falls to the ground in waterfalls of pearls and silk. Your eyes are the eerie silvery moonlight in half-darkness, the deadly attraction of jewels in velvet lashes. Your lips are the succulent, juicy, forbidden fruit that every man would like to taste. The pain of your kiss is going to be the last pleasure of life.

You are not a delicate, pure lily; you are not a passionate, fiery rose; you are a narcissus reveling in the crystal of mountain waters. You love yourself to pain, to death, to despair, and in all the New Empire, there was none more beautiful than you.

Original sin. The primordial beauty. You are desire in all it manifests and begins to manifest.

The naked goddess, clad in snow-white fur like armor, is the goddess of love and ecstasy.

You've never been conceptualized; you've always been enigmatic.

You have been the object of worship. Your beauty has been sung in songs, and your love has been professed in a thousand languages. "Eros" was the site of visits from the mightiest and most powerful dragons of the New Empire. They all crawled at your feet, stroking their thick, greased with their cum cocks, greedily as they burned your skin with their golden gaze. They licked the deceptively thin glass of your display case with their long, sometimes split tongues, leaving muddy streaks on the perfect surface of the glass. The mighty and great dragons, unaccustomed to humiliation and submission, urinated like bitches in heat at the mere sight of your bare shoulders and long neck covered with diamond serpents, their eyes shining like stars in the twilight of your silken chambers. They would drip their sperm onto the icy marble floor until it collected in small, glistening puddles, and then they would lick it up as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world. Ambrosia in the truest sense.

Behind the glass walls of Eros, they were dominators, predators, and the rulers of this world through fear and pain, but here in this garden of Eros, they were nothing more than whores—shameless and needy. Slaves to your beauty, desperate to please you.

Their moans are always a delight to you. The moaning of your name.

The scenarios have been repeated to the point of being painful. Sugar-sweet subs with outstretched tongues and pretty, tear-stained faces. Dominant alphas with sweat-glistening skin and eyes rolling with pleasure.

Dragons fucked other dragons; orgies and bacchanals were staged; they were subjugated and subdued. They growled, moaned, squealed, and purred; some were fucked like a port slut, and some were licked for hours until they passed out from hyperstimulation. Some masturbated in front of your window, enjoying the fact that you were there to watch them, and there were others who would spend their heat and ruts in front of your window.

The list could go on and on: bondage, darkphilia, breeding, voyeurism, humiliation, objectification, and breathing games.

You were saturated with this game.

There were so many ways in which you could spend your evenings in the company of others. It was all designed to excite you, to make you beg, and to make you plead. Each of your visitors secretly hoped that one day you would strip off your luxurious furs and assume the position that was right for them—submissive, naked, and ready to accept whatever it was they were giving you.

It was an act of power; it was a position of strength, but here you were the strength. You were power.

No one would ever have the temerity to lay a hand on you. Goddesses are always untouchable.

You entertained yourselves by teasing them, mocking them, and fanning their flames of desire and passion. Dragons are creatures that are very dependent on their emotions and their desires; they feed on their power and their magic, but when they do not get what they want, it burns them from the inside; it breaks and crumbles them, like a cookie that has been bitten.

It was delicious, but you were full. Thank you, next.

You never denied that you were a sadist; you had a taste for pain; maybe it was a kind of revenge for the destruction of your family; maybe not. They came to you for that feeling; the dragons wanted to be punished and tamed, and the feeling of pain made them cum harder. As they say, Orgasm is a little death.

You could play this game for hours on end, letting the fur expose your boobs and pressing it against the cold glass as you went. It was magnificent—tall and plump, as if it had been milked with milk—with pink nipples the color of magnolia blossoms. There was something animalistically seductive about it—an appeal to their natural reproductive instincts—that evil thought of possible pregnancy. Their whimpering made you laugh, and the sounds they made were so sweet—desperate pleas and long, long moans.

"Let me taste you; I want it so much. I was a good boy, such a good boy."

There were other days when you would let your hands run over the bare skin of your thighs, leaving long red streaks that stood in erotic contrast to the silk of your pale skin. You smeared the clear, shimmering liquid of your juices along the line of your neck, in that most exciting place for dragons, where their teeth locked in a mating mark, as if branding their mate in the most perverse of affiliations.

"Tell me I belong to you; please say it. I'll do anything you don't want. Own me, use me; I want to be your toy.".

Sometimes other girls would be brought into your shop window to put on an erotic show. Exquisite nymphs and rosy-cheeked Lolitas would explore your tender skin with their soft, wet tongues, leaving traces of hungry kisses, until at last their lips would close on the most intimate spot between your thighs.

On days like this, the whole of 'Eros' would shake with furious, jealous growls and thunderclaps. Dragons were terrible possessive, and even though the "scene" itself would excite the hell out of them, the jealousy would burn through their veins from the inside out, like a deadly poison.

"You belong to me, and only to me. You are mine, mine and mine alone. I will tear this girl apart, and we will fuck in her blood until there are no more conscious thoughts left in your pretty little head, until you remember nothing but my name.".

But no matter what their words were to you, you didn't have a care in the world. Nobody would dare touch the goddess, and if they tried, they would not only lose their hands but also get killed.

That was the law of the New Empire—all the people who were left were protected and sheltered in an incredible way. There were very few of you, and if there had been any harm to even one of you, it would have been a real tragedy. Only once has there been a breach of that law, and the consequences have been terrible. No one wants a repeat.

In any case, your life in the Garden of Eros was a pleasure. Maybe it was some kind of perverse way of looking at the world and love, but you didn't have any desire to change anything; everything was great.

Have you ever wondered if there might be another version of you out there? Perhaps, somewhere in a parallel universe, humans would still exist as the dominant species, their countries and cities would be prosperous, and you would be living a different life—a normal one. There, in that other universe, that other Aphrodite—no, not Aphrodite—you would have an ordinary name, not a divine one, something cute, something sweet, and always with a hint of shyness. It is probably there that you would have experienced your first love, that you would dream of a prince who would take you off into the sunset, and that "and they lived happily ever after." You would have been embarrassed to talk about sex, and you would have blushed horribly if his fingers had been in your knickers. But you weren't her. And she wasn't you. You don't want to be saved from sinning; you want to become one of them. You want to experience forbidden pleasures. You want to subjugate and dominate.

You're not in need of a prince; you've already had a king, or rather, eight kings. The day will come when everything you have ever dreamed of will come true, even if you haven't met any of the Hala yet.

You want power; you want to sit on a golden throne in a castle high up in the sky, and so it shall be. They say that love is a great strength, but they fail to mention that it is also the greatest weakness. And you, like no one else, know how to use it to your advantage.

This is not a pink fairy tale. There are no rainbow ponies pooping rainbows and eating fairy dust. No, this is a rotten world. It is full of debauchery, violence, and sex. You could say, "Come and rescue me. I'm waiting for you," but no, you have to rephrase it as "I'm waiting for you to crawl on your knees and lick my heels, and from that moment on, I will own you.".

Yes, that sounds much better.

It's already eight o'clock; time to get ready; you're leaving soon.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most famous glass house in the New Empire. Tonight we have wet aesthetic cunnilingus as our main course, and for dessert, a mind-blowing orgasm. You have a choice of starters. Drinks are on the house. We accept cash and checks. If you wish, you can leave a tip for one of our "jewels.".

Our hope is that your time at Eros will be an unforgettable experience.

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monsteractialuna · 3 months

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So I'm a massive fan of demon aus and stuff so i ummm made my own demon au 👉👈

I'm not 100% sure if I'm going to write a fic or not for this,, I plan on maybe writing a few chapters, see if I vibe with it, and then post it or leave it in the abyss depending on how I feel when I'm done.

You are a freelance demon hunter with an odd relationship in regards to the demons you hunt. You allow those who kill criminals or the scum of the Earth to go free but hunt and kill those who harm the innocent. You never thought that your work would follow you home, and you certainly never thought that your work would wake you up every morning with pancakes and waffles. Who taught these demons to work a stove?

Some fun facts about the characters and stuff below the read more :)

-Y/n was raised by a demon, hence why they have such an odd relationship with demons. Y/n views them more as people who can make mistakes and less like evil creatures from hell. Y/n allows demons that kill horrible people to live because their Mother was one of those demons, often targeting abusive spouses and partners.

-Sun and Moon used to be one entity but had split decades ago due to a disagreement. They hadn't seen each other since the split until they both broke into Y'n's house.

-Y/n has lost several limbs during their hunts; but since they're on good terms with multiple demons they are always patched back up and made "whole" again. Y/n's mother is constantly on the verge of tearing their face off from stress.

-Since Sun is a plasma demon his body runs extremely hot. He has to maintain constant control of his body temperature or he risks burning everything around him. He also has to control the brightness of his body as if he gets too excited he WILL blind people. Sun smells like ozone before a lightening strike.

-Moon is a demon made entirely of frigid cold water, so just like Sun he has to work to control his body temperature. His natural temperature is extremely cold but if he gets too upset the water that makes up his body could solidify turning to ice. He can freeze the water in the air around him easily. He smells like the ocean during winter.

-Y/n is one of the only demon hunters capable of locking demons into objects. If they cannot kill a demon they will imprison them into an object and keep them in a locked room inside their house. They often put Sun and Moon inside a plasma ball and a snow globe when the two start fighting. Gay demon jail.

-Y/n is capable of using their mother's demonic magic, which is how they are so proficient during hunts. Mother's magic is plant based and helps Y/n control roots, vines, and other flora in their surroundings. The bracelet they wear signifies the bond the two have and Y/n can communicate with their mother through that bond. The bracelet can only be removed if the bond is severed, either through one party dying, both parties agreeing to sever said bond, or a strong enough desire to break free of the bond in some cases.

-Bonds between a demon and a human can come in a few flavors, romantic bonds are symbolized through the demon's solidified magic turning into a ring, familial or friendly bonds are symbolized with a bracelet, and forced bonds are symbolized via a collar around the victims throat.

-Vanessa is Y/n's protegee, after Y/n helped save Vanessa from a forced bond from a demon Vanessa decided she wanted to become a demon hunter to get revenge on the demon who enslaved her. Vanessa doesn't fully believe that demons aren't just evil creatures from hell, but does trust Y/n's judgement.

-The other animatronics are also demons! Y/n is friends with most of them :) Roxanne is a demon that specifically hunts human traffickers, Chica is a demon who hunts people that dump waste into the environment illegally (and then proceeds to consume the dump to ensure the environment isn't too badly effected), Freddy and Bonnie hunt down child abusers and often work as a team to do it, and Monty hunts poachers and exotic animal traffickers.

-Moon falls for Y/n first and falls fast. The minute y/n kicked his ass the first time he was down bad. He makes himself a nuisance to Y/n because he isn't entirely sure how to process these feelings and decides to makes it everybody else's problem. Sun originally just wanted to be friends but as time went on he realized he was falling for Y/n too. While Moon fell in love with you for your ferocity during hunts, Sun falls for your kindness and understanding towards those affected by other demons. Sun absolutely adores your passion and need for justice and it literally makes him swoon.

#my art #fnaf au #dca au #sun fnaf #moon fnaf #dca x reader #I've been putting off uploading these because i was gonna make a doodle page to go along with it but i realized i could make and post that #anytime so umm yeah #if u want to ask me questions about my au pls fucking do because it gives me a reason to actually think about it #designs aren't entirely final i love changing shit as i go <3 #didn't mean to write so much for the fun facts but i got distracted sorry

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perseephoneee · 7 months

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four times we almost kissed and the one time we did (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: slight blood sharing, mostly frusteration

a/n: unfortunately for my sanity, i have fallen in love with kol. why? i couldn't tell you. the actor drives me up a fucking wall. but the character? i am down for bad. so here ya go. feel free to request more kol or over tvdu characters!!

↳ masterlist ↳ want to be shipped with a fic character?

[1] First meeting

Magic has existed in New Orleans for as long as anyone can remember. The prevalence of voodoo-- NOLA's most giant "tourist trap"-- originated in 1791 with enslaved West Africans who moved to Louisiana to grow a community for as many free people of color. That spirit meant that many of its inhabitants descended from that original society or were drawn here for its magical properties. Your family was one of the latter, a bunch of witches seeking solace in a place that nurtured it. Except with magic came strife, and eventually, other creatures came knocking at the door. Enter the Mikaelsons, New Orlean's resident vampire family that was always at the center of whatever drama was happening. Right now, something involving all those magically oriented.

You made it a point to stay clear of the fight. Not because you didn't care– you did– but because it wasn't your fight to be had. That's how you stayed alive in this neighborhood; you knew where to stick your nose and when to stay clear. Besides, all the commotion with one of the Harvest girls (Cassie, you believe her name was) and the witch's distaste of vampires meant tensions were high. You could help the community from the background anyway; you didn't need to make yourself known.

At least, that's what you hoped. But things rarely turned out how you wanted, and this was one of those times. Walking through the back streets of NOLA was never an excellent idea, but it was shorter, and you just wanted to get to the metaphysical supply store before it closed. You needed more laurel leaves to create protection charms around your house, especially with the uptake in strife in the recent year.

Which is how you came upon a witch killing three vampires in the alley.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave, but the witch noticed you before you could. You didn't recognize him, so you were unsure what coven he belonged to. He was tall enough to probably tower over you, with golden curly hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut your fingers if you touched it. He was unbelievably handsome, and you hated that it caught your breath.

"You shouldn't be here, luv," he crooned, his English accent thick. He sauntered down the alley, coming up to you with narrowed eyes.

"I don't recognize you," you countered, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. It's best not to let him know that you're flustered.

"New in town," he smiled, a cocky grin that told you that he absolutely knew the effect he had on women. It left a bad taste in your mouth. "New Orleans is a big city; I'm surprised you would know everyone."

"I know witches," you said, peering up at him.

"Ah, are you a magical thing yourself?"

"What do you think?" You arched a brow. He stepped closer, reaching up to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger. You recoiled slightly but didn't pull back. Never show fear; that's one thing this town taught you.

"I think you're a pretty young thing," he hummed. "I'm Kol." He peered at you as if waiting for you to offer your name. You didn't.

"Not interested," you pulled back from him, letting the hair he had touched fall back in front of your face. He stepped back into your space.

"I don't know, darling," he smiled, leaning closer so his breath fanned your face. It was minty like he had just had an Altoid. "I think you're interested." You hated admitting that this tall, handsome stranger (such a cliche) was right. And you really hated that if you leaned up slightly, you could feel the warmth from his lips. He stepped back, though, hands in his pockets. The same hands that had used magic to wrangle the undead life of the vampires behind him. You took that as a sign to start to leave, walking backward before turning on your heel and ignoring the gaze of the witch behind you.

"Never got your name!" He chimed. You smiled to yourself.

"Figure it out yourself."

[2] Cemetery watch

Disgruntled. That's how you felt. Chaos had grown over the past weeks, but you didn't see Kol again. A sliver of disappointment, as you did find him cute, but also a relief. You know enough flirtatious bastards to not want to add more to your life.

You weren't thinking about him today, though. You were thinking about your grandmother, who lived in the cemetery right outside your block. A popular cemetery for Wiccan rituals, it made sense for your grandma (the high priestess of your family) to be buried there with heavy praise.

You were laying a combination of roses, lavender, and rosemary for protection when the hair on your neck stood up. Feeling a presence, you soon turn around, making eye contact with the stranger who approached you.

Definitely not a witch; his aura was too dark for that. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and eyes that lingered on you for far too long. He was cute, though, even if he was dangerous.

"Hello darling," he purrs, stalking closer.

"Can I help you?" You sigh, crossing your arms as you peer at him with suspicion. He wears a cocky smile and a look that tells you he would love to have a taste.

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt," he puts a hand on his chest, feigning pain. You look at him closely, but the only recognition is in the pet name. Darling. Not many people called you darling.

"Kol," you said. "You're shorter." His face had a hint of shock before settling into amusement.

"That was uncalled for," he laughed, walking closer to you. In closer proximity, you could see that he was, in fact, very handsome, and he was definitely aware of that.

"I'm reiterating my previous question, can I help you?"

"When my family sent me on this mission to track down the 'wisest witch in the quarter,' I was not expecting you," he looked down at you with gold-flecked eyes. "The beautiful girl who wouldn't give me her name. Except now I know it's Y/N."

"I thought you were a witch," you took a hesitant step back, trying to create space.

"Temporarily," he sighed. "Now I'm back in my original form of vampire." The way he said it gave you pause, as if he was resigned to the fact but not happy about it. You could relate. If you lost your magic, you would be devastated.

"You said something about your family?" you coughed, changing the subject.

"There's someone working against them, and we would prefer if they don't kill us," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clouds above. "People tend to hate us, Mikaelsons."

"You're a Mikaelson?" you hissed. It was because of the Mikaelsons your home was in constant disaster. "Why should I help you? Any of you?"

"For the most part, we don't want to cause trouble. It just tends to find us. Helping eliminate a threat means fewer problems in the quarter," Kol sighed, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek, delicate as if touching the grass in a meadow. "Also, you'd get to spend time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" you breathed, voice wavering slightly. Curse your damn hormones for being swayed by a vampire of all creatures. His thumb came under your chin, allowing him to bring your face closer to his. Kol smelled like fresh snow and evergreens, and you knew that if he leaned a little bit closer, you wouldn't stop him. In the process, likely offend the ghost of your grandmother who was probably rolling her eyes at you right now. Before you could offend all the ancestors with your choices, Kol stepped back, resuming his cocky grin and leaving your breath lodged in your throat. Without a second thought of the implications, you made your decision.

"Fine, I'll help you."

[3] Late night spell-casting

Late nights in the Mikaelson compound meant one thing. Coffee, and lots of it.

You made a deal with the Mikaelsons after you agreed to help them that in exchange for your time, they had to buy you cafe drinks whenever you liked it. Elijah was the most taken aback, but Kol chuckled as if he found you amusing. Still, they found it a small price, not expecting how much you valued your drinks. Most nights, it was coffee, sometimes tea, or even hot cocoa. Quite honestly, you just liked having the power to make them run around.

You sat at one of their many couches, a book of shadows in your lap and a notepad in your hands as you made quick notes about possible spells that could combat the evil at hand. A couple of ideas swam in your head, but you wanted to exhaust your options before risking anyone else's life with a botched spell. Still, you had been at it for hours and started getting sleepy. You yawned, feeling your eyes close slightly. Thankfully, footsteps alerting you to the presence of one of the originals had you sitting up and shaking off your fatigue. Unfortunately, that original was Kol with your coffee order.

Kol was precisely what you thought he would be. Flirtatious, cocky, impulsive, and too attractive for his own good. You hated when murderers were cute; it made life confusing. There were moments, though, when the two of you were performing recon or pouring over spell books that you saw a side of him that only showed when his guard wasn't up. He was calmer, more academic, and a lot more unsure of himself. The only thing you hated about seeing that side is it made you like him more.

"How's my witchling doing?" he chimed, dropping off your coffee and settling beside you on the couch. You told him that being called darling felt ridiculous, so instead, he found a new nickname, which was even worse.

"The usual, I suppose," you yawned again, leaning your head against the back of the couch.

"Take a break."

"You realize it's your life on the line, right?" you huffed, turning to look at him.

"My life will always be in danger, Y/N," Kol hummed, taking your books out of your lap with a minor protest from you. "That's not going to change tonight."

"Don't underestimate me," you grabbed your cup, taking a deep sip and looking at him over the lid.

"I would never underestimate you," he grabbed your coffee and stole a sip himself, earning a growl from you. "Half the things you say shock and confuse me."

"It's my charm."

"Let's do something fun," Kol stood up, trying to drag you with him. "Research is bloody boring."

"We have two very different ideas of 'fun,' Mikaelson," you curled up into a ball on the couch, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. An idea sparked in your head, and you turned a devilish smile to the brunette. "How about tarot cards?"

You found an old deck in the compound, creating a space on the table in the central area to lay out the spread. Even though having your cards would be better, you thought you could probably make do with these. You gave Kol the cards to shuffle and watched as he spent meticulous time connecting with the cards before handing the deck back to you. You started laying out the cards on the table, forming a cross with four cards separate on the side. You tucked your legs underneath you, curling up on the floor so you were huddled by the table. Kol joined you, his back against the couch as he peered at you straightening up the cards.

"You realize you're going to flip them over, right?"

"Shut up, Mikaelson," you chimed, finishing your organization. He watched you with a small smile, and you made the effort to ignore his stare. "We'll start with your Present card."

“Boring,” Kol sing-songed. "Tell me my future."

"I have to go in order, to give an accurate reading."

"Darling, the cards are already laid out; you can do whatever you want," Kol leaned closer to you, squinting his eyes in amusement. "I live my life in futures; who cares about the past?"

Sighing, you decided to obey the nosey vampire and flip over his cards for Future and Near Future. The two cards revealed were the Lovers and Ace of Cups, respectively.

"In your Future is a strong romantic relationship," you start, pointing out the Lovers card featuring two swans intertwined. "This correlates to the Ace of Cups, which signifies new beginnings. Since the Ace of Cups is in your near future, you'll likely encounter someone you'll soon develop a deep, long-lasting relationship with." You turn your eyes to Kol, raising an eyebrow. "Shocking, considering your personality."

"It's not that shocking," Kol quipped, leaning closer to you. "We're here, aren't we?"

His pupils were enlarged as he gazed upon you, and his glance to your lips told you exactly where his mind was. You couldn't deny you weren't thinking the same thing. It didn't help that Kol was dangerous in an enticing way. Ignoring all rational thought, you leaned in closer, nudging his nose with yours. Your heart was beating erratically, and you heard the sharp intake of breath he took. His fingers traced up your arm, each finger leaving goosebumps in their wake. What were you doing?

"How's the research going?" a voice called from the hallway. You scooted away immediately, but Kol stayed where he was. His jaw clenched as he suppressed a growl. Freya appeared, not aware of the situation and probably not caring anyway.

"I have a few ideas," you coughed, taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart.

"Great, I'd love to hear them so I can stop having stressful dreams," Freya chuckled, moving over to the couch. You sent Kol a glance as you passed your journal to Freya. The look he gave you told you that what started wasn't over. And the worst part was you didn't want it to be over.

[4] Injured after a fight

A headache. That's what you were nursing.

A sharp ringing pierced through your ears, the lights above you blurring into a bad abstract painting. A figure appeared above you, and you slowly registered that it was calling your name. You squinted your eyes, the action causing a splitting pain as the shape of Kol formed in front of you. Worry creased his brows, and blood splattered his face.

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Kol asked, cradling your head. You nodded, grabbing his arms to help pull yourself up. Chaos was erupting around you, and the stifling smell of magic was enough to knock you out again. That's what had happened. It was an ambush, and despite your abilities, you were blasted back into a wall, probably with a concussion and broken bones. It was times like this when you were envious of a vampire's healing skills. "I need to get you out of here."

"They need our help," you grimaced, catching Klaus ripping off someone's arms in the background. Kol caught your gaze and bothered with a slight smirk.

"I'm sure Nik is fully capable of handling himself. Plus, my other siblings are here, and Freya called Vincent. They won't miss us."

"I'll be fine," you tried to say, but it ended in a wheeze as the effort of sitting up caused pain in your lungs.

"You will not. Can you stand?" Kol watched you struggle for a second before picking you up. In a normal situation, you would've complained, but considering all you felt was ow ow ow ow ow you thought better than to complain. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he sped out of the scene and back to the compound. Kol laid you gently on the couch, kneeling before you, biting into his wrist and holding it to your lips. "You need to drink."

"I don't want to be a vampire," you mumbled, brushing a hand across your forehead. Your fingers held blood on them, and you became dizzy with that knowledge.

"I won't let that happen now, drink," Kol insisted, his voice having a hard edge. Considering he was a stubborn bastard, you relented. You hesitantly grabbed his wrist and brought it up to your mouth. The blood slid down your throat cleanly, but you had to suppress the urge to gag anyway since it was blood. You felt your bones click into place, and your headache dull to a memory. You finally looked up, catching Kol's gaze on you. How was it intensely erotic to have someone watch you drink their blood? There must be therapy for issues like this, but you didn't really care. How he looked at you was akin to a predator waiting to devour its next meal. You knew if you let him, he would fulfill every potential vampire fantasy one could have. He touched your cheek, touching your lips where his blood was just a second ago. He pulled away, red coating his fingers, and you suppressed a groan when he sucked the leftover blood.

"Kol," you whispered, your voice raspy. He sat up at eye level, leaning down as if to kiss you. Of course, things weren't that easy, as his family burst into the compound right at that moment. You wanted to let out a scream of frustration but ended up being caught off guard by Klaus dropping a head by the entryway.

"Glad to see our little witch is okay," Klaus chimed, looking pretty proud of himself. If Kol were a cartoon character, he'd blow smoke out of his ears.

"I'm alive," you sighed. Klaus walked over, ignoring his brother's glares, and patted you on the shoulder. That was the closest thing to the affection you were getting from the hybrid. As the rest of the family delved into a conversation about the ambush, you finally got up and looked at the original kneeling on the ground before you. "We'll finish this later," you smiled, pretending to ignore the slight growl that left Kol's mouth as you walked off.

[5] Evil has passed

"I thought you would've left."

Kol stood in the entryway of his bedroom at the Mikaelson home while you stood (guilty) by his bookshelf.

"I was returning this book I borrowed from you," you said innocently. Putting the book back on the shelf, you turned to the man before you, trying his best to plaster on a convincing smile. The threat has passed, your job was over, and yet you were melancholy. These people had caused problems throughout your home since they arrived, yet your temporary alliance ending was something of sadness. You were tired of pretending it was for any reason other than Kol. Kol started as an annoying individual who sought to drive you up the wall, but now was someone you saw a kinship with. Your long talks on history and adventures across the globe were moments where you saw his guard fall, and you loved every second of it. It helped that he was pretty to look at.

"I guess this means goodbye then, doesn't it witchling?" Kol sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. You could swear he sounded disappointed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Depends," you crossed your arms. "I could be persuaded to come back."

"Persuaded?" Kol inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he would ensure a way to keep you around. "Any particular reason?"

"If someone wanted me around, I guess," you smiled, a tiny grin but good enough for Kol to stroll towards you until he towered over your figure.

"I'll give you a good reason," Kol murmured, a devilish smirk on his lips. "Something that we kept getting interrupted for in the past." He cupped your face in his hands, lowering his lips so they were a hairsbreadth from yours.

"Don't be a tease," you breathed. Letting out a dark chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours. It was surprisingly light, not hungry like his usual personality. He tasted like a fresh snowstorm and an evergreen forest, and you know you could get drunk on that alone. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you brought him closer to you, deepening the kiss and earning a light groan from the vampire. Kol's hands tangled in your hair, one of them going to hold your waist. Every touch of his was coldfire, and you were so glad that you were finally alone to burn in him. He tilted your head back, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat that caused you let out a moan. He nipped the junction of your neck and shoulder, kissing over it until he was back at your lips again, leaving a searing kiss. Kol pulled away, glancing at you with eyes abysmal. "What took you so long to do that?" you breathed, a grin covering your face as Kol laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"You're all mine now," Kol smiled, kissing you again. "Always and forever."

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #the originals #vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #tvdu imagines #mikaelson #mikaelson family #my writing

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lurveinn · 1 month

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I’m so curious about Wizarding fashion. JKR isn’t very physically descriptive- we just know that wizards wear robes, which are outlandish to muggles, and pointy hats, but what does that really mean? What kind of robe? Magical fashion clearly isn’t very gendered, since Harry remarks on a man at the Quidditch World Cup wearing a dress and insisting that it’s unisex (certainly not the case in Britain at the time), but we don’t have any other parameters. Keeping in mind the uniform from the movies, and the fact that in SWM, Snape isn’t wearing any trousers, here’s what I think wizards wear:

1. Flowing silhouettes and cloaks; clearly, wizards love a good statement cloak. Think tassels and frills (not like Ron’s Yule Ball fit!), massive extended sleeves and lots of draping.

2. Skirts: let’s be honest, just one singular robe, without any layering, doesn’t give us much to work with. Skirts go with the general silhouette, explain why the World Cup wizard thought muggle men wore dresses, and keep with the no-trousers thing from SWM. I’m South Asian, so I like to have a little fun with it and think of wizards in ghararas (my favourite item of clothing); the Wizarding World is quite insular, travel is relatively unrestricted (hello, they have magic!), everyone has a common enemy in muggles (and other species- goblins, house-elves) etcetera, so race probably doesn’t function the same way and I headcanon a lot of cross-cultural exchange. Plus, wizarding fashion isn’t restricted by weather- they have warming charms- so wearing clothes made for hot climates in England, for example, wouldn’t be a problem.

Plus, I actually think saris are a natural fancy dress option- flowy, drapey, colourful. Speaking of which-

3. If there’s one fanon idea that I hate (aside from fanon!Sirius, of course), it’s this image of wizards (specifically high society wizards) as reserved. Sorry, did we read the same books? Wizards, even posh, rich wizards, like the Malfoys and Blacks, are camp and very outlandish. They do house-elf taxidermy, they keep their wands in canes. Just because Hogwarts uniforms are black doesn’t mean that people dress like they’re in mourning all the time. People can be total snobs and obsessed with their image and still wear bright pink, insane robes, because guess what? They have different social conventions than we do. Men and women dress basically the same, so there is no reason to believe that a man wearing a flowing robe would be against the norm. I say this as someone who believes misogyny and homophobia are well and truly alive in Wizarding society, especially in pureblooded families where the emphasis is on continuing the line; they definitely exist, but they probably look different.

4. My personal obsession and headcanon: rich wizards wearing bones. Look, I might not think of them as racist in the traditional sense, but they are undeniably speciesist, if that’s a word? They think of themselves as superior, and other sentient magical species either work under (goblins) or are enslaved (house-elves) by wizards. We only see Veelas very briefly, but despite them being admired for their beauty, I doubt wizards treat them very well. So- show me blood-purists wearing corsets made of goblin bones and teeth. Show me Veelas being hunted for their blood to stain and dye clothes with. Show me exotic “magical creatures” that are humanoid and capable of reasoning and should have rights, like mermaids and werewolves, being hunted for their scales and pelts while also being ostracised for being ‘non-human’. It’s terrible, but that’s the kind of archaic jewellery and fashion the old families that the fandom likes to fetishise would like to wear.

#harry potter #wizarding fashion #wizarding world #meta #hp

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janehaster · 4 months

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Dreadwolf won't be centered around Solas

Dreadwolf's big reveal won't be Solas' plan.

It'll be the Titans. More accurately, their connection to Arlathan, the Golden City and the true source of its magic.

The big magical mystery revealed in Inquisition - actually, in Descent - wasn't the Elvhen empire. We already knew the elves made a magical empire where they were immortal.

Sure, we were hit with a few surprises, like the fact that the elven magisters thrived due to slavery, to enslaving their own people.

Other surprises were: part of the empire was located in the realm of dreams, immortality ended with the creation of the Veil, spirits served the elven magisters, etc.

But the biggest reveal was the DEATH OF A TITAN. And by the hand of an elven magister, no less.

By now, every DA player knows about it. And how the afresco where it is presented is in a secret area. As if hidden on purpose.

Add to that Kieran's mysterious lines about ancient magic and a time before the Chantry, such as the ominous line to the dwarven origin Inquisitor - you can't be taller. Not without the Titans - and Shaper Valta's discovery of a living Titan, plus how she broke the age old taboo that dwarves cannot cast magic and you have one of the biggest magical mysteries of Dragon Age.

There are several other indications that Titans will take center stage in DA:D (such a weird acronym):

One, the arrangement of the eluvians around a water pool in the Well of Sorrows mirrors the shape of the Titan's core, where its beating heart is located and where we fight the Guardian. This means the kings and priests of Arlathan were aware of the existence of Titans and where their heart lay. They likely traveled inside a Titan for some unknown purpose. And if they did, they learned that the Titan is the source of magic, and that their blood is a way for you to acquire magical powers, even open portals to other realms, such as the Fade and possibly...the Beyond and the Void.

Two, plenty of codexes show the Titans were destroying the cities of the People. For what purpose, we do not know. But the discovery of Titan magic hints that magisters may have mined their bodies for lyrium, angering the stone giants, which lead to Mythal having to kill a Titan.

Three, we find a strange poem in the Fade in DA:I that hints at creatures of same nature being sundered, tainted, asleep and enduring while they wait for the moment to awake. There's every reason to believe they are the Titans, and that the Sundering might refer to when the Veil was created and they lost their connection to the Fade.

Four, Shaper Valta's fate teaches us that dwarves were actually made Tranquil for some reason since their connection to Titans was severed. The reason for it may be the creation of the Veil by Solas' hand.

I want to call your attention to parts three and four because I believe this is the most important fact we know so far: the Sundering, caused by the creation of the Veil was felt by the Titans and turned all dwarves Tranquil.

We never see this said directly in the game because not even the dwarves are aware of it. They completely forgot that part of their history. It's not recorded in the Shaperate, and Shaper Valta hints that the implications of it are quite severe. The entire early period of dwarven history was erased, and it revealed the existence of the Titans and their role in Thedas in the time of Arlathan.

Hence why I believe Dreadwolf will inevitably reveal this big truth, this missing big chunk of Thedosian lore, one that is behind the secret of Arlathan's magic, Elvhen immortality, the true nature of the Golden CIty, of the Fade, the Beyond and the Void.

Once the Veil is no more, the Titans may possibly awake from their slumber. They will be fully connected to the dreaming world, and that can have terrible consequences to the physical aspect of Thedas. If they awaken, they might destroy entire continents, kill millions, entire kingdoms may disappear overnight. They can literally reshape the surface of Thedas. Hence why I believe the consequences of Solas' actions will be apocalyptic. And he's fully aware of it.

As he states to the Inquisitor, as the world burns in the raw chaos, I will rebuild it. What he doesn't mention is that the chaos will be caused not by the arrival of demons or even the Evanuris, but by the cataclysmic actions of the Titans.

I'm really curious to see the full impact of this revelation on a dwarven protag and if they will suddenly develop magical powers once the Titans awaken...

#dragon age #dragon age 4 #dreadwolf #dragon age dreadwolf #dragon age speculation #da: dreadwolf #dreadwolf theory #dragon age theory #solas #solas dragon age #dwarves #titans dragon age #arlathan #golden city #theory

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a-little-revolution · 8 days

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If someone wanted to make a remake of wizard of oz or willy wonka or snow white and the seven dwarves, what would you say would be the best way to fix the stereotypical depictions of magical or inhuman little people? Would it be to just make them Not little people anymore, make them another creature, or to make them like, people with dwarfism? I've heard some ppl bring up the idea of having dwarves in snow white be actual in-world little people as opposed to a mythical race of 'dwarves', but it seems that would carry its own problematic connotations to extend that to what is clearly a race (munchkins) or a pseudo enslaved/servant populace (oompa loompas) would it be better to just remove these characters entirely or have their roles reprised by non-little people? On the one hand, it seems that many of them do not need to be little people, but on the other hand it seems a shame to remove roles for little people.

(i kind of feel oompa loompas are a bit hard to make work at all given they are explicitely black slaves in the original and clearly carry a sort of enslaved populace connotation in most adaptations, but I'm legitimately curious about munchkins, whose size doesn't seem to matter very much in most stories.)

Hello! My answer is to simply stop retelling these stories. The very fact that we hold onto them so dearly when they're as harmful as they are is a huge problem. We need new stories! Depicting real, complex dwarfism. We need a wide range of disabled characters and better representation for little people - and Snow White is not going to be who saves us. Fixing these stores will not undo the harm they've done. We need to leave them behind and write better pieces.

And we as consumers have done that with so many other pieces of media. We've discovered that they're harmful to a certain group, no longer supported it, and moved on. So why not with little people? Why can't folks give us the same respect?

If you can understand that the oompa loompas are problematic because they were based off black slaves, you can also understand that they were problematic because they were dwarf slaves. The two intersect in the films, and they shouldn't be so beloved in my opinion.

And the answer is not to just recreate these stories without us in them - they were built on our backs and that is their legacy. Sweeping it under the rug wouldn't change the decades of harm they've done and the oppression they're a result of.

Just 👏 stop 👏 making 👏 more 👏 of 👏 them

Leave them behind and make better pieces with LP characters!!! Make them complex and loved and diverse and human!!!

#faq #dwarfism #disability #ableism #charlie and the chocolate factory #oompa loompa #snow white and the seven dwarfs #dwarfism in media

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taki-yaki · 2 months

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What if Tav is a fey from feywild, or part fey? I don't have a particular race in mind, just wanted to see Astarion and fey Tav to be chaotic gremlins together

Love stuff to do with the fey, Tav from the fey wilds would create so much chaos together with Astarion. Although in usual D&D terms, the closest to part fey would most likely be a Hexblood. So I’ll be doing a Hexblood Tav who was mainly raised in the fey wilds for most of their life.

Hexblood Fey Tav Headcanons

You began your life as a creature of the fey before a deal gone south with a hag forced you out of your plane to the realm of Torri.

Of course, you would try to get by in this realm with your usual fey antics, of course not too long after, whilst on the road to your next performance, you get abducted by the nautiloid.

Making you curse the chaotic whims that fate throws at you.

Upon meeting your new travelling buddies for the first time, you try to keep your distance from them at first, in fear that they might try to offer you something, believing it to be a trap, binding you to them, forced to do their bidding. You even give them a fake name, instead of telling your real name, taking any precautions from being enslaved any further.

However after the third night of attempting to cook for yourself, you eventually cave after the sweet savoury smells of Gale’s cooking plague you, giving in to the temptation and never looking back since.

Most members of the group saw you as too carefree at times, rather choosing to do what you like at random times. It isn’t until you reach the swamp and finally meet Auntie Ethel, that you seemly completely switch, tearing into the hag with a sense of rage, trying to reenact your revenge upon the kind who stripped you of your home.

Most of your companions are initially taken aback, stating how you could have gone about a less brutal way of defeating the hag, but what’s done is done. Astarion though, just watches over the scene with joy, seeing your victory as a sign of strength. power.

Later that night Astarion approaches you with the offer for a romp in the woods, this makes you hesitate for a second before he says that it’s a fair offer after you gave him some of your blood. At first, you mainly see your relationship as transactional, in fear of being permanently indebted to him, but it isn’t until over time you both start to see your relationship as less transactional. At first, it feels weird to you not to do anything in return for him at times, but you quickly get used to it.

“So I don’t have to sing you a song and dance before receiving a kiss?”

“Well no, but if you want to, then I’m more than happy to watch you flap around like a headless chicken.”

During most of your early travels with Astarion, he would be in awe over how much colour there is during the day, but you state how it seems drab compared to the bright wonders that the fey wild had to offer.

Throughout your travels to Baldur’s Gate, whenever someone approaches you with a request to solve an issue or problem they are having, you’d usually reply with a, “What’s in it for me”, then proceed to go about solving the issue either destructively or chaotically.

A rat infestation? Well, a large fireball in such an enclosed space will make it quick and easy.

Need to clear out the nearby goblin camp? A few powdered keys should do.

Aside from your destructive tendencies, you also love to play tricks on others, whether they deserve it or not, it doesn’t matter. With you and Astation being a tag team duo, while you would create a crowd to distract people with a song or dance, Astarion would sneak around attempting to pickpocket as many people as he could.

Other antics would include trading for weird items, such as attempting to purchase a sword or magical artefact, you would cast an illusion on some nearby rocks to give them the appearance of gold pieces. Followed by having to run from the now enraged shopkeeper, whilst Astarion is in hysterics.

Despite most of your fey traits mainly giving other members of the group grief, one condition you hated was your weakness to iron, even if a ring was placed on your finger for a few seconds, it would leave a slight burn mark in its place.

This came especially apparent one time, during a fight in which you were surrounded by bandits each brandishing an iron dagger or blade, ready to strike at you.

As soon as the first blade makes contact with your flesh, you let out a loud shriek of pain as the tip of the blade leaves a large burn mark on your skin. Alerted by your cry Astarion rushes to your side, quickly taking out the rest of the bandits, before carrying you to safety.

Back at camp, he’d tend to your wound, and whilst holding you close to him he’d softly chastise you mainly out of concern.

“Be lucky that this is only a small wound, just next time stay by my side and don’t rush out like that next time.”

After the fall of the netherbrain, realising how much this realm had to offer to you, Astarion suggests going around exploring more of faerun as hunters, maybe even finding the hag that cursed you and enacting your revenge. After all you did free him from his tyrannical ex-master. Over the 6 months the two of you spend travelling all across faerun, you eventually learn to bask in the wonders that this plane has to offer.

One late night, whilst lying in your shared tent, you turn to face Astarion, feeling as if you have a heavy weight to lift from your chest, you speak “I have something to tell you.” He’d look at you with slight surprise, were you going to break up with him after all this time, “It’s about my name” you spoke sheepishly

“What about it my love, I think it’s a nice name.”

“Well, I may have given you a fake name, I was worried you would use it as leverage to bind me into a contract of sorts”

He laughs a bit upon hearing this, and you swiftly reply with “Well it may not seem like much to you but it’s a big deal to us fey.”

“Alright, would you do the honours of telling me your name my love?” whilst trying to do a small bow motion while lying down. Leaning closer, you whisper into his ear in your native tongue of Sylvan, your true name, before leaning back waiting for his response. He looks at you for a while before the expression on his face goes soft “Well I think it’s a beautiful name, regardless of what it is, you will always be my darling.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #had fun writing this one #adding some slight angst and fluff so a bit of both worlds

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writers-potion · 2 months

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Dark, Twisted Fairytale Prompts

writing prompts by @writers_potion Check out my masterpost for more tips :)

Cinderella brutally murders her stepmother and two stepsisters at the ball. Now, the prince must track the suspect down..with a shoe.

Snow white marries the prince...who is now trying to murder her so that he can enjoy her “sleeping beauty”.

Little red riding hood is a werewolf hunter killing werewolves in hiding...including her grandmother.

The Pied Piper began to play. Every woman/man-child begins to follow him and whatever he does, they wouldn’t leave.

Rapunzel locks herself away in the tower, enslavering every man who comes to “save” her from the evil witch who, in fact, does not exist.

The princess kissed the frog...and now she was a slimy creature, too.

However, the king and queen soon realized the curse was in fact a blessing. the palace was so peaceful with the princess forever asleep and finally quiet, for once.

“God save alice, the Queen of Hearts!”

The Little Match Girl must sell off all of her ill-fated matches to step into unimaginable wealth.

The Little Mermaid strikes another deal with the witch. She would sacrifice one of her sisters to get her voice back.

Aladdin set Gini free...without knowing that the evil magic spirit had actually deserved the punishment he got.

Hanzel and Gretel realizes that the witch is in fact their birth mother who was abandoned in the woods by their stepmother, who had been their father's mistress at the time.

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venusintheblindspots-blog · 9 months

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More on the dynamic between Rhaenyra and Nettles…

One of my biggest qualms of ASOIAF, is the inherent racism displayed in the text, and the fandom, when discussing characters like Nettles, Elia, Baela, Laena and Rhaena.

My introduction to ASOIAF was House of the Dragon, and after watching, I was an avid team black supporter ( still am, Rhaenyra was Viserys’ heir).

After finishing the main series, and watching half of Game of Thrones, I reread Fire and Blood, focusing mainly of the Dance of Dragons.

Of all the interesting characters during the Dance of the Dragons, the one that caught my eye was Nettles, the first and last rider of Sheepstealer.

Her introduction alone was enough for me to fall in love with her :

“Unlikely dragon rider”, “the first and last rider of the dragon Sheepstealer”, “fearless”, “cunning”

Very little is known of Nettles’ upbringing, as the accounts of Eustace, Munkun and Mushroom are biased with racism, classism, misogyny and second hand information.

I’m not particularly sure if it was George’s intention, but the language used by Gyldayn and the a portion of the fandom is a prime example of how black girls are robbed of innocence and agency when being accused of ‘wrong’.

Going back to her relationship with Rhaenyra, the two women are not on equal footing. Rhaenyra was awarded privileges even other noble women in the realm could only dream of,(not that she lived without suffering, she still faced misogyny & sexual abuse), as opposed to Nettles, who lived as a commoner with nothing to do but survive.

Coming around to the Dance of Dragons, Nettles fights for Rhaenyra’s claim as the rider of Sheepstealer. She grieves Rhaenyra’s children, and the loss felt in war.

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s are implied to have an open marriage in Fire and Blood.

Mysaria is Rhaenyra’s Mistress of Whisperers during the Dance of the Dragons, with no implications of animosity between the two. Yet, upon the hearing of Daemon and Nettle’s rumored romance, Rhaenyra is angered?

Rhaenyra’s disdain for Nettles reminds me of another harmful dynamic in real world history,- a jealous white woman, and a young black girl being cut by the blade of her vengeance. Rhaenyra dehumanizes Nettles, going as far as to call her a creature and demanding a brutal death for Nettles, so that Daemon could be free from her ‘sorcery’. She cannot conceptualize how Daemon could be attracted to Nettles, so she accuses her of using magic to bound him to her.

Their dynamic reminds me of the relationships between wives of white slaver owners and the enslaved women that their husbands would abuse sexually. The blame is never casted on the husband. Whether or not Nettles and Daemon had a romantic relationship or a father-daughter one, she did not deserve the treatment Rhaenyra gave her.

To close this, I still like Rhaenyra as a character. She’s interesting in a sense where, regardless of what she’s done, she was the better option for the Iron Throne, especially if we are going off of her character in the show. However, she still reads to me as the epitome of white feminism. Her fight is for no one else but herself.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #anti rhaenyra targaryen #asoiaf nettles #nettles defense squad #hotd #nettles x daemon #nettles f&b #nettles asoiaf #anti fandom #nettles #netty #mysaria #gyldayn #daemon targaryen #sheepstealer

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chillwildwave · 1 month

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The Wishing Kingdom: Prologue.

@annymation @uva124 @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @thisnameisnotspokenfor @mythartist21 @mafik-sun @lunellasflo @rascalentertainments @frogcoven88 @kstarsarts @oh-shtars @spectator-zee @emillyverse @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @galacticstarslove17 @tumblingdownthefoxden @rylxdreams

(We hear the Disney intro with 100 at first but then we pan over to the Walt Disney Castle where a storybook titled “The Wishing Kingdom” is seen being laid on a desk, while we hear a choir harmonising, we hear a voice that is remiscent of an Golden Age male narrator.)

Once upon a time, there was a sky, so blank and so bare, even clouds covered its dread, what remained was a dark pit of nothingness.

It stayed like this until those clouds danced around the sky which caused cosmic dust to glide on by, it is said that when two elements are combined, you would get one of the most brightest creatures ever seen in the universe, responsible for looming over humans over the sky, day and night, providing every need that they offered.

So much so that the star god, Xanthos used his powers to create a habitat for all the stars, the kingdom of Starfell, where these creatures would live peacefully and decide in which star would grant wishes to their people…

Down the mist of the ever-so vivid Starfell, came the land of humans where they believed so much in the wishes that the stars held that they would hold a tradition, where their wishes would be written on a single strand of ribbons and wrapped around the branch of the first existing wishing tree…

(Little Asha interrupts the story as soon as her dad says “wishing tree.”)

“You mean the one we are on at the moment?” She enthusiastically questioned as she wiggled her legs, begging for her dad to answer.

“Yes, dear, now let me finish the story cause I’ve got more to tell.” Her dad replies when he turns another page on the book.

Even though some wishes were granted by the stars themselves, there were a few that were too controllable to grant, this happened with two specific people, a prince and a princess, held a wish in their hearts, trying to call the power of the stars to make them come true, however, the stars kept their powers shut after they found out about that wish, they thought that it would be too dangerous as it was said that if any dangerous wish was granted, it would release a dark void that would not only destroy Starfell, but also the entire humanity of Earth.

The couple tried to beg for their wish many times, not even days and weeks, but for years, until the stars decided not to grant it due to how much danger it could possess on causing destruction on the universe.

Even with their wishes in their hearts, they decided to head to a cabin where each book held a spell that would grant them magic, not just magic, but magic so powerful, it is almost impossible to avoid, so they scrummaged all the books from the shelf until the prince found one where he took deep breaths and summoned the old and powerful forces…

Magic, rare and strong,

Give me what I deserve,

Feed that feisty song,

And let the wind dissolve,

The wind dissolve.

(As he says that, he closes his eyes as we see Green effects swirling around the couple, the Princess holds onto him as he says the spell, it takes a long time until they are relieved that they had so much power from the one spell now.)

And with all this power they held, it was then that people believed that they were responsible for granting the wishes, as if they had the same power as the stars.

So it was there where they found an island on the Mediterranean Sea where the Kingdom of Rosas was established, with a hidden hamlet where the enslaved, scrubbed, cleaned and guarded their land until their chains were broken.

(We then go back to little Asha with her head next to her father.)

“You mean, that where we live, what is the cost of freedom if you can’t buy it her in this kingdom?” The little girl raised to question, her inquisitiveness kept flowing.

“I don’t know what the cost is, but it is part of what the king and queen say for their people.” Her dad replied with a solemn look on his face, he looks up to the stars while he touched his wish on a ribbon.

“Asha, there’s something I would like to tell you, look. You see these stars, right above us, legend says that these are used to believe us that with a wish, comes a dream.” (The screen then goes to the stars, the brightest one illuminating in the night as Asha’s dad speaks.)

“And when you have those, all you have to do is to keep believing, and when you have that dream, if you want to achieve something, you need to have the courage to get what you want.”

“What happens if…” She took her time to come up with another question, although she knew that it was negative, no matter what, she asked anyway. “I don’t work hard enough.”

“Well if you don’t, well, it doesn’t mean that your life is going to be entirely perfect, and if you don’t work hard, your goal will be much more complicated that it might seem.” (This causes her dad to look down at her notebook while Asha tries to get him to not look at it as she thinks he’s seen her swearing in her notes.)

“Dad, give me my notebook back!” She playfully teased him while still holding onto it.

(He still holds on to it as he reads her page while Asha slowly looks over it to see which page he is on.)

“It seems that you writing about what you want to achieve right at this very moment.” He giggles as he feels her embrace as she lays on his shoulder to look at the stars one more time before bed.

“Well, yeah and the start barely even begins with me, but tell me Dad, did you ever have a wish once, did the stars answer?” She spoke softly.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, his eyebrows causing a frown with his eyes looking up one more time. “Never, cause I’ve kept that wish for a very long time, for as long as I can remember, and since the king and queen became the new wish granters, I always knew that my wish should be worth keeping in my heart no matter what cost it had to get to me, and I believed in myself harder to the point where entered this area, with you and Sakina, and that wish, I wrote it on the ribbon and hung it on this branch of the tree, it is so special to me because it reminds me of that wish growing and growing as it lays on the branch, if it drives my heart, it’s possible that my dream would come…”

Silence… He just suffered something inside of him that the end is nearly near, there’s only silence, not much talking, Little Asha gets up and helps her Dad get up after he felt something but he fell back down causing her to carry him but it was no use, we also see Sakina running towards the tree after the commotion, as she runs to the tree, she sees her husband slowly dying while she stands next to Asha with tears running down her face, she also strokes her on the hair, gently.

Her dad continually coughs in agony, while Asha grabs his chest and tries to revive him. “No dad, you can’t, you said you would always be with me… You can’t!” Her voice is almost lost due to her pain.

The last words were spoken… “Asha… Sakina… Look at me, sometimes, not matter how old and young you are, the wishes will be dead if you don’t make it happen, there’s not a single thing like living forever to grant your wish, you shouldn’t have to live forever without that chance of wishing upon a star… Just, remember.”

He says after he closes his eyes, while he fades away to dust filled with sparkles setting their way to the sky, tearful Asha couldn’t even move after she tried to hug her mum because her hands were too shaky, despite that, her mum hugged her back as they watched the dust glide away, directing itself towards the cosmic sky of the stars…

And that’s the prologue for y’all, it would be nice if you give me your thoughts and also, I’m planning on doing an animatic to the same scene but who knows I could make some tiny adjustments to it as I go, here is my WIP animatic so far. There’s more to come.

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maxislvt · 2 years

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Her Body Is My Coffin

All your life you'd been told to stay away from the monsters that lurked beyond the gates. They were mean, nasty, and more than happy to eat up anyone as sweet as you. Well, that's what dad told you. He never told you about the monsters that send you hand written poems and pretty flowers attached. He never mentioned how they smelt nice and knew all the right places to kiss you. Too bad for you, because those are the most dangerous ones.

Warnings: Smut, Loss of virginity, fingering, and oral sex! This is a darkfic however this part isn't really that dark!

Series Masterlist

Your parents had always warned you about the creatures that lived beyond the gate. The big ones with nasty teeth and huge claws that would rip up cute little kids like you if they ever ventured out too far. Mermaids with matted hair and sharp teeth that would swim around your feet and drag you right down to the deepest depths of the ocean. Packs of big, hairy werewolves that'd chase you for hours just to rip you limb from limb with their mates. Witches that were happy to cut you open and use your body parts for all kinds of sick spells. For years, you'd been taught that the only thing between you and a gruesome, untimely death was the magic silver gate that surrounded your city.

What your parents didn't warn you about were the pretty monsters. The ones that magically knew what books you liked or would send you sweet notes with the prettiest handwriting you'd ever seen. Those were the real danger. They could sneak into your heart and make you do all sorts of crazy things. For most, it came in the form of simple things like handing over large sums of money or allowing their mind to be enslaved for the rest of their natural lives. For you, it seemed to be something much more intimate.

This monster, whatever it may have been, wanted your heart.

At first, you didn’t think much of the strange gifts you began to receive. You had many suitors so waking up to random and generally outlandish presents. What separated your ghoulish suitors from others was there was no name attached to anything they had given you. Though it frustrated you a bit at first, you began to appreciate it. You had planned to return the first gift and politely decline the advances, just like all the others, but with no name attached you had to keep it. As the days passed, you couldn’t help but to appreciate the craftsmanship of the bracelet. The symbol that hung in the middle as a trinket was foregin to you, but you wore it regardless. The gifts continued to flow in after that. Each more expensive and grander than the last. Simple jewelry paired with pretty flowers turning into books accompanied with never ending love letters. At one point, the suitor had thrown themes out the window and started buying you just about anything you wanted.

Though you came to accept the gifts with open arms, your curiosity was getting the better of you. You wanted to know who your suitor was. It was a dangerous decision, but you couldn't help yourself. You didn't think there would be any danger —if it was purely for a chance at eating you, they would've done it by now. Plus, whatever it was had some means of getting into the city without being detected. That meant either someone was helping them or they were already living among humans undetected. With next to no information, you set off late at night in an attempt to find your mysterious monster.

You needlessly chose to sneak through your window, somehow assuming it would be easier than walking out the front door. After an awkward bit of wiggling and pushing, you say off towards the edge of the city. The only lead you had was that most monsters dwelled in the woods behind the city. If your suitor was sneaking in, they'd probably be coming from there. The east and west gates were heavily guarded and the north was too risky to sneak in.

The woods south of the city always terrified you as a child. You'd only been out down south once for a dear when you were younger. The evil that dwelled within took its toll on the land — so much so that even small parts of it slipped past the gate. It had become a stark contrast to lush forests and vibrant landscapes you frolicked in as a child. It was dark and cold. The trees twisted and formed into odd shapes. The grass remained dead and a flat beige color year round. Sickening growls and other unsettling sounds would come from deep within it. You never knew what or who was making such noises, but you felt bad for them.

Being back near the gates again had reawakened your fear.

You'd become painfully aware of the fact you were exposed to whatever hid in the forest. The feeling of being watched made your stomach tight. Your plan to investigate had been watered down to surveying the area from a distance. Fear had overtaken you and even walking straight became a struggle. The noises from beyond the gate were getting to you. Labored breathing, the sound of footsteps, even the occasional whimper. Forest monsters weren't typically so cruel. You tried to ignore it. You kept your head down and your mind busy while the creature from beyond toyed with you. But when the whining and rustle of trees mixed with unexplainable squelching, you panicked. You ran back home with any consideration for the slowly waking city.

You hadn't gotten any sleep that night and the only reason your night hadn't been a complete waste was because of an envelope that was set in your windowsill. Initially, you thought your suitor had gone back to romancing you with poetic words, but you weren't disappointed to see a letter. You weren't sure what you expected from it. Maybe a long winded confession or an essay on why you were the most adorable person your suitor ever laid their eyes on.

You received three things in that letter.

One, a confirmation on who and what your suitor was. It was more of an apology for what happened the night before, but you were thankful to put a name to such gifts. Though you had a couple vague ideas of what they may have been, knowing she was a vampire made you even more curious. Her name was Wanda Maximoff. It was a foregin surname you were sure, but you decided to focus more on the fact that she had been the mysterious creature watching you last night. It wasn’t the best apology if you were being honest with yourself. Though she admitted to her wrong doings, she seemed to justify them by rambling on about how cute looked. “Like an unprotected newborn kit being swarmed by an eagle” as she strangely put it.

The second being an invitation to meet properly. Wanda didn’t expect you to be bold enough to meet her without the protection of the gate between you, so she kindly suggested simply talking where you two had first “met” last night. She did mention not wanting to meet until next week. There was no given reason as to why you two could not meet any sooner, but you assumed she’d be off doing important vampire things. Vampires were some of the most organized monsters and you knew they had lineages and collations you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around. If Wanda had money to throw at you just about every day for weeks on end, it would make sense she had some important job among her people.

The third and final gift was a bit more intimate and tangible. It was a polaroid you didn’t notice until it slipped out the envelope. It had fallen face down on the ground. You knelt down and noticed the blood red writing on the back. ‘From thinking about you ♡’ it said in the cutest cursive you’d ever seen. The cuteness of the tiny heart and handwriting did nothing to prepare you for what was one the front of the polaroid. The second you flipped the photo, your mouth went dry. Wanda sat on her knees with her thighs spread apart. Her fingers buried deep inside of herself. You could see the way her slick pooled into the palm of her hand. With her mouth slightly agape, you could see the way her fangs poking out at the inside of her lip. She wanted you and that was simply another declaration of it.

The polaroid had been ingrained into your retinas with how much you stared at it. It made the next eight days a living hell for you. No matter how much you tried to ignore it or actually engage in the things happening around you, your mind always wandered back to it. There were multiple times when you had nearly caved and touched yourself to the thought of how Wanda would treat you. Some days you thought of her as a soft and gentle lover. One ready to please you at all times and happy to ruin you. Other nights you thought of her as a greedy and cruel lover who'd tear you apart and use you for her own pleasure.

By the time your special day came, you had overwhelmed yourself. You frantically searched for the perfect outfit. It had to be cute but not too cute or your parents would ask questions. It couldn't be too revealing or you’d freeze before you even got halfway to your destination. Eventually, you gave up and decided to wear something basic in hopes your vampiric lover wasn’t as high fashion as the ones you saw on TV. You felt strangely protected when leaving out the second time. Though you were sure Wanda was miles away from you, knowing someone was waiting from you made the abandoned and unkept area less scary. There was a bit more pep in your step as you made your way further south. You weren’t even aware of how giddy you were until Wanda pointed it out.

“And here I was worried you wouldn’t show up.” The vampire wore a confident smirk as she emerged from the forest. Wanda casually leaned back against a tree. Before she spoke, she decided to let her eyes roam over your body. Her view had been limited to what little she could see from a distance or behind trees. To be so close with so little blocking her view — it was a magical feeling to say the least. “You can come closer, I won’t bite.” Despite her promise of safety, she couldn’t help but make a show of dragging her tongue across her fangs.

You were sure she’d only done it to scare you a bit, but there was familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach that wasn’t fear. Despite your growing arousal, you inched forward until you were right in front of the gate. “I um,” you nervously cleared your throat before continuing, “I really liked your gifts. Especially the poems, they were really cute.” You struggled to focus on your words as Wanda walked closer towards you. The more you looked, the more out of control your thoughts became. You found yourself particularly interested in her fingers. Memories of that damned polaroid flooded your mind all over again. You couldn’t tell it from the picture, but now it was clear that Wanda took great care of her hands. The skin looked silk smooth and her nails had been painted a matte black. Your favorite part was certainly the complicated rings that decorated each of her fingers.

Wanda stared down at you fondly. She leaned down slightly so you two were face to face. “You won’t find it mentioned in many places, but vampires can read minds.” She couldn’t help but laugh when you jumped back in shock. “Awe, don’t be ashamed, I wouldn’t have sent it if I didn’t want you to think about it.” She hadn’t planned on being so cruel to you, but you were adorable. It was a treat for her. For months she watched all the other girls in the city fawn over you and get whatever reaction from you they could. It was only fair she got a chance to as well.

You turned your head away from the woman in front of you in an attempt to get your thoughts in order. You’d subconsciously taken a few steps back. “Can we just talk?” The fact you’d never actually gone on a date had hit like a ton of bricks. “I mean, you’re really pretty and I want this to go somewhere, but I just don’t know what to do.” You flashed Wanda a nervous smile as your arms swung to the side nervously. “I mean, if that’s boring we could do something else– or you could leave if you want!”

Wanda chuckled softly as she sat down on the ground. “You don’t have to be so nervous, I’ll be here until the sun rises.”

The two of you had talked for hours. Wanda offered undocumented information about the world of vampires and you repaid her with any information about your latest interests. Though you insisted you had more interesting things to talk about, it seemed to be the only thing Wanda wanted to hear about. It didn’t make sense why she cared so much about the shows you watched or the style of the clothes you wore, but you were excited to have someone listen to you. Unfortunately, your conversation was cut short by the sound of an alarm.

You instinctively reached for your phone, only to realize it was Wanda’s. “I didn’t think vampires used phones.”

Wanda giggled at your innocence as she sat up. “The older ones tend to stray away from it, but it comes in handy from time to time.” She stretched her arms over her head and stood up slowly. “As much as I would love to hear about your little misadventures, I must get back home before I burn to death.” There was a comfortable silence between you two. For a moment, Wanda just looked at you. Your hair got a little messed up from laying on the ground and it seemed you were fighting a losing battle with sleep. After what deserved to be an eternity, she signaled for you to put your hands through the bar of the gate. She held the back of your hand and nuzzled her nose into your wrist. Wanda took a deep breath and let your scent fill her nose. “I had a really nice night, I hope we can do this again…same time this weekend?”

The way Wanda looked at you made your heart stop. Her eyes were half lidded, but not like the way they were in that polaroid. They seemed more relaxed. There was something in them that just made you feel so safe. “Yeah, same time this weekend.” You were giddy with laughter when Wanda softly kissed your wrist.

“Just get home safe for me, doll.”

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

There weren’t words big enough to describe the way Wanda made you feel. Everything seemed to just fall into place when you were with her. She was irresistible. What was originally just a late night visit on the weekend turned into an every other day thing. If you had it your way, it’d be every day, but Wanda insisted you make up for the sleep you would end up missing the night before. To make up for the insufferable time apart, Wanda had given you her phone number. You found yourself calling and texting her as much as you could for just about any reason you could think of.

It had been a few months into your little arrangement when Wanda suggested you spend a few days over her house. Though you were a little nervous, you accepted the invitation. You had only left the city a few times in your life and you had no clue what lay deep in the forest, no human did. However, you refused to let fear and uncertainty get in the way of your love life. Your brain hardly had any room for fear when you were so caught up in what would happen once you got to Wanda’s house. Cuddling, sharing food, or just being in the same room together. The thought alone made your stomach flutter.

After one awkward climb and a car ride filled with questions, you had your wishes granted.

You were in Wanda’s house. It was a lot bigger than you’d imagined, but it still had that red homey feel you grew to expect from Wanda. The bed in the center was made perfect and decorated with expensive looking red pillows and cozy quilts. You noticed the litany of products sat out on top of the vanity with a tiny red stool in front. There was even a walk-in closet.

"Is this all for me?"

Wanda smiled at the excitement in your voice. "Of course, unless you prefer to sleep in my room." She watched as you looked back between her and the bedroom before you. "I'm kidding, doll, you don't have to choose!" Her arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you in. She attacked your face with kisses. Your mere presence made her house feel infinitely more homey. The thought of you leaving was too much to bear. "Let's get you washed up and ready for dinner, yeah?"

"Oh yeah!" You bent down to tie your shoes only for Wanda to stand you upright. You let your body be guided to the armchair next to your new bed. "Is something wrong?" Despite your worries, you sat down. Maybe there was some weird vampire guest ritual you didn’t know about.

“Pretty dolls like you need help getting dressed, don’t they?” Wanda asked as if she was going to wait for your approval before she began stripping you, but she simply didn’t. You had barely processed what she had asked you by time she had undone the buttons of your shirt and had you completely naked from the waist up. Your arms moved to cover your chest, but Wanda was quick to pin them to the bed. “It’s just you and me, sweet bear, there’s no need to be nervous.” She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before she dropped to her knees in front of you.

You swallowed a lump in your throat as you watched Wanda. To say you were flustered was an understatement. There was no clear indication of what Wanda was planning. Was she trying to tease you or was this just her way of saying she loved you? Your eyes remained glued to the woman between your thighs as she carefully untied and removed your shoes. It was a strangely intimate interaction. Even if your brain had gone off the rails and into the deepest pits of lust. To have someone take care of you at such a high level made you feel safe. You were out in the middle of nowhere and Wanda could do anything she wanted to you, but she chose to take care of you instead. “I really like this, thank you,” You whispered softly.

“I can tell. Your thoughts get very loud when you’re needy.” Wanda’s hand drifted down to the space between your thighs. She cupped your pussy, letting out a soft groan at how wet you were. "Dinner can wait a bit, yeah?" She bit her lip as her hand slipped past the waistband of your underwear. Eventually, she would stop asking and just take you, but for now she'd at least let you think you could say no. "Oh, you're so wet for me. This is all for me, yeah," She moaned out as her fingers teased your slit.

You nodded in agreement. As much as you trusted Wanda, you couldn't help but be nervous. You were a virgin to the highest degree. A few kisses at the end of dates, but nothing beyond that. Hell, you couldn't even finger yourself properly. You were well aware that you should've told Wanda that, but you didn't want her to hold back. "You can do whatever, I can take it." If you weren't embarrassed by the way your voice cracked and completely gave out on your lie — you certainly were when Wanda laughed at you.

"Oh, sweet thing," Wanda cooed as she peppered kisses up your inner thing, "you're a really bad liar." She stuck out her tongue and slowly licked from your clit all the way up to your navel. Then she kissed down the spit trail she left. Her nose nuzzled into your stomach as she slowly inhaled your scent. "I can smell it." She closed her eyes as if she was thinking. "After I take you, we'll be connected forever." Wanda dragged her tongue up your slit and wrapped it around the throbbing bud at the top.

You shiver at the sudden stimulation. Wanda's tongue proved to be a wonder on its own. Your body twitched and jolted at every movement. The overwhelming wetness leaking out between your legs embarrassed you. A familiar burning began to grow in your stomach. "No, it's too much," You whimpered. You were grateful Wanda was kind enough to lift her head when you pushed her away. When you locked eyes with Wanda everything felt okay. "I- we can keep going, just not like that."

Wanda nodded slowly as she rubbed your thigh. "Let's just do one finger for now, yeah?" She climbed on to the bed and laid back on the pillows. A smile spread across her face when you sat between her legs without her saying a word. "Keep being sweet like that and I might not be able to control myself," She chuckled before placing a firm kiss on your shoulder. Wanda dragged her finger up to your lips and pressed against them. "Get it nice and wet for me, I don't want it to hurt."

Your lips parted slightly, allowing two of Wanda's fingers to slip in with ease. It's a strange feeling. You're barely allowed to suck or move your tongue. You gagged whenever Wanda would thrust her fingers into your mouth. The way Wanda used your mouth was undeniably erotic. Feeling her fingers graze over teeth sent another jolt up your spine. Sitting still became impossible. Your lungs felt as if they were going to explode. You couldn't breathe, but you were more aroused than you'd ever been.

Wanda pulled her fingers out of your mouth and used her free hand to tilt your head up so you were looking at the mirror. "You're such a messy thing," She whispered in your ear as her fingers slipped down between your thighs. Her finger sunk into you with ease. "You're so needy, I can't imagine how you handled yourself before me." She pumped her fingers inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust.

You moaned softly at the new found stimulation. The length of Wanda's fingers quickly proved to be more than just aesthetically pleasing. You were already wet before, but Wanda had you forming puddles in mere seconds. "Wanda, please," You squeaked out. You had no clue what you're begging for, but you trusted Wanda would be kind enough to give you whatever you needed.

"Awe, sweet doll, I don't think you can handle much more than this," She teased. Wanda slipped her second finger inside of your pussy. It was near impossible to move with the way you clenched around her fingers. "You sound so good, don't hold back, doll." Her eyes were focused on the mirror in front of her. It was dangerous to have a silver mirror in the house, but if it meant a clear view of your body like this — it was worth the risk. "Look at my perfect doll, you're too cute."

You looked up at the mirror just for a second. Initially, you were shocked by the lack of Wanda's reflection. The shock was immediately taken over by another wave of unfiltered arousal. There you were. Completely naked, sweaty, and being stretched out by seemingly nothing. It was more than enough to send you over the edge. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't hold it!"

Wanda leaned forward as you hunched over. "Shh, it's okay. I got you. Just let it happen." She continued pumping her fingers inside of you so you could ride out your orgasm as long as you could. "There we go, just breathe…nice and slow for me." Wanda pulled her fingers out of you using her clean hand to rub your back. "You did so good for me, now let's get you cleaned up."

You hadn't even caught your breath, but part of you craved for more. Maybe it was the giddiness of losing your virginity or maybe it was the fact you could suddenly hear all the dirty thoughts going through Wanda's head. One orgasm certainly wasn't enough, but you knew better to ignore any warnings Wanda had given you. "Okay, but you're gonna have to carry me."

"And I'd be more than happy to."

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