#fantasy drabble

[watercolorfreckles]

hi, thank you so much for your wonderful writing :))

I've especially loved reading Deep Blue and I was wondering if you...do continuations? if not that's totally okay, just thought I'd ask :)

have some ice cream :) 🍦

Thank you, thank you! Sorry for taking so long to get to this request. Hope you like it!

Deep Blue - Pt. 4

siren x pirate

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

When his eyelids parted again, the midday sun split the room, haloing the sleeping siren in a honey blaze. Her hair pooled around her head in golden spires where she'd sunken against the cotton pillow during the night.

Her shoulders swam beneath the gauzy knit of the pirate's shirt, pearl-pink skin peeking free. She smelled of the ocean, all salted breezes and chalky sands.

She seemed peaceful, chest swelling with even breaths. An outsider may have labeled her harmless.

The pirate knew better.

His fingers itched to caress the delicate curls framing the siren's forehead all the same. The supernatural charm of a siren, he told himself. He caught his hand when it twitched halfway to action.

He stood up, tearing himself away from the magnetic pull of her. He turned around, shaking out the clumped waves of his hair. His clothes, too, were scratchy with the crust of dried salt. The folds of fabric creased like paper.

He stepped outside and cranked out several pumps of water from the rusted spigot, scrubbing it over his face and hair. The cool droplets streamed fissures down his neck and chest. He pumped fresh palm-fulls to spread over the rest of his exposed skin.

"If you're trying to drown yourself, I can do a much better job of it."

The pirate startled, straightening. "Golden. You're...- How are you feeling?"

Clinging to the open door, the siren stood awkwardly on foreign limbs. The hem of his shirt hung a few inches above her knees; a curtain brushing against his clumsy first aid.

Though her posture painted her a wounded damsel, her eyes were predator-sharp. It set his teeth on edge and sent something primal in his instincts jangling.

The siren's nose crinkled, scanning their surroundings. He tracked her gaze as it roamed over every rock and tree and bump of the earth. "What is that smell?"

The cabin boy snorted, cranking fresh water into his hands to dump over his head. "Dirt."

"Repugnant.”

"Yeah, well... As much as I love it, the smell of salt water and fish can get old as well."

When he glanced up again, he studied the siren more closely. Instead of itchy, irritated skin--sun-dried and chapped--she was glowing as ever. Her golden hair hung in silken waves hardly so much as mussed by his rough sheets, not gritty and salt-riddled as his own locks had been. Her skin faintly shimmered in the daylight.

The only thing about her that wasn't perfect was the red stain weeping through the muddied fabric of her bandage.

Her eyes followed the drip drops puddling beneath the spigot. She wet her lips.

The cabin boy watched her. "Are you thirsty?"

As he'd learned from his hours of curious reading, most sea creatures didn't drink water. They gained their hydration through the food they ate, or their bodies were designed to filter out the harmful sully of salt from the seas they swam in.

Though, his siren was a sea creature no more.

Her feet twitched, seemingly with the urge to take a step, but she hesitated, toeing the wooden step's treacherous edge without letting go of the door.

A small smile cracked the pirate's lips. This creature who had held his life in her hands mere hours prior, capable of capsizing ships and carving out the hearts of men, was afraid to walk. Afraid to fall.

Gravity did have an unforgiving vice above water that it didn't below, weightless and languid in all its honeyed drifting.

He found himself standing in front of her. Ever drawn to her as a moth to its fiery death.

She hissed at him when he offered his hands toward her, sounding like a startled housecat. Jerking back, her heels snagged the rim of the top stair and she fell with a yelp. "Don't touch me!"

Though the cabin boy held up his palms in surrender, the mermaid swiped at him with dull, paddy fingers for good measure.

"Easy," he said, "I was only going to help you."

"Why?"

His brow creased. "...Why?"

"Why are you trying to help me at all?" she demanded.

"You saved my life."

"I tried to drown you! You should have left me there, I would have been better off! Your 'help' is a scourge, a curse!" She pushed herself up onto wobbly feet, smacking his hand away when the pirate reached out again, reflexively, to assist her.

He heaved a sigh, stepping back. “You would have bled to death.”

“It would have been better!” There was something terribly broken in her voice. A windchime once ringing melodic lullabies now cracked and shrieking. She staggered down the remaining two steps, swaying unsteadily on her heels. Her voice softened. “It would have been better than this.”

Guilt twisted the cabin boy’s stomach. “Golden…”

“No. I am now a prisoner in this…weak, defiled body. I have been stripped of every last thread of my identity. My tail, my strength– The ocean has disowned me, I am cursed to die a fumbling human. There is no greater disgrace! I want nothing more from you.” She shoved past him, limping and teetering as she went.

“Where are you going? You’re injured, hungry, and wearing nothing more than my shirt,” the pirate protested, following after her. “You can’t venture into town like that. Many men would take that as an invitation–”

The siren rounded on him, promptly stumbling and catching herself against his shoulders. Her eyes were alight like an August day.

“I know perfectly well what your kind feels entitled to when they come upon a beautiful woman. That is the very foundation of why you are so easily captured under our sway,” she spat. “Your desires overwhelm you, and our songs coax you to believe you can have all you want if only you surrender to us. I cannot make you believe what you do not already want to. You invade our home and hunt us in our own waters, you take and take and take, then call us monsters when we do not let you have us too. As if we are sunken treasure for you to pluck from the seafloor and sell to the next hungry pirate.”

Any response he had readied died behind the cabin boy’s teeth. He wanted to protest that they ‘weren’t all like that.’ That some pirates led with honor, and that many men were decent. He was decent, wasn’t he?

And yet… He still felt homesick for his captain, his crew, his ship. The very ones who cast him to his death for the mutinous act of having a heart.

He swallowed. “I freed you.”

“And for that alone, I spared you. Yet you damned me. Spare me further humiliation and leave me alone.” The siren gave his shoulders a sharp squeeze before letting go, limping away again in the direction she had chosen.

His eyes followed her, clumsy and graceless, all the way to the start of the dirt road that led into the village.

She would certainly be a spectacle there. With shimmery skin and perfect hair of spun gold, eyes like winter fire and only half dressed, she would steal the attention of every human she passed.

She might be found out for what she was. She might be overpowered and hurt, or taken advantage of.

The possibilities burned through him.

She’d begged him to stay away…

The siren’s bare feet kicked up dust along the path that sent her coughing, batting at the air with the same fury she’d faced him with moments prior.

The sight coaxed a tentative smile from the pirate’s mouth. Cursing the sky, the earth, the gods of sea and shore and everything else, he followed after the grounded mermaid.

He would not be responsible for any more of her misfortune. Even if it cemented his own.

He’d always thought the ocean to be fair, even in all its cruelty. It did not shrink itself for the convenience of others. Its crashing swells that swallowed ships whole did not ask for any less from the creatures within it.

He had to believe that there was hope for her, his siren, creature of water and night and song. She would be whole again. He had to try.

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[undreaming-fanfiction]

Sorry for being gone for so long, I haven't been feeling great both physically and mentally, so that was awesome...anyway:

Look, Eddie wasn't that picky when it came to companions. He wasn't much of a catch either - as a bard, it was already expected of him to cause chaos, but with his choice of songs, the result was less of a bardic inspiration and more of a "turn everyone against each other" or "make everyone extremely horny". Which...actually worked when they needed to avoid combat, but by ancient gods, he didn't need to see that group of orcs going at it.

Anyways. Eddie wasn't picky, but Steven Harrington was becoming a bit too much for him.

First: he was a rich kid. Eddie was a proud trash raised in a cottage that barely held together and he had no patience for people who never washed their own laundry (not that Eddie did, well, not too often, but still).

Second: he was effortlessly handsome. Annoyingly handsome. Bad hair day? Steven fucking Harrington didn't know those. His moles were placed in perfect places. Eddie had nearly invisible freckles and his only moles were - embarrassingly enough - near his groin and if you squinted hard enough, looked like a daisy petal. So uncool. But uncool was a word Steven Harrington apparently lacked in his vocabulary.

And third...this. Just...all of this.

Eddie didn't want to think of himself as a prejudiced person, he really didn't. But there were two things he didn't like in this world: lawyers and necromancers.

And Steven somehow managed to blend both of those into a horrible combination that just. Fucking. Worked.

Eddie was strumming on his lute and watched Steven open a bag full of old bones, yet another unlucky trader, adventurer or whoever had died in the woods before them. He placed them carefully on the ground, arranging them - admirable knowledge of anatomy, Eddie would give him that - and muttered an incantation. Green light, weird whooshing, some sparkles, yadda yadda and the skeleton reassembled itself. It sat in front of Steven and they started working in hushed tones over a pre-prepared contract. Eddie could only make out phrases as "a work opportunity," "being dead must be boring," "do you have any family that could use a percentage of the spoils from this quest" and the best of all, "no pressure, if you'd rather be left alone, just say the word." From what Eddie had seen in last few weeks, very few of them did say the word, and if they did, Steven would honor his word and bury their remains where they desired.

It was a really decent thing to do and Eddie hated himself for even admitting it.

One discussion about details ("do you want to be only reassembled when needed or would you like to accompany us the whole time?") and a bony signature later, Steven carefully stuffed the newest party helper (Arthur, Steven made sure to remember all of their names, another fucking decent thing!) in the bag and stretched himself next to the fire.

Eddie couldn't help but glare. That fucking guy. Built like a fighter from carrying half of a cemetery on his back, pretty, rich and for some reason also awfully nice and moral. Eddie wanted to barf.

"You know," smiled Steven and Eddie's traitorous stomach did a triple flip with a botched landing, "I love seeing you like this. Calm. Strumming those slow melodies. You look really pretty, too." He laughed to himself and turned onto his back, staring at the stars. "Well, you look really pretty all the time, especially when you're trying not to be bitchy, but these times you look the prettiest."

Eddie almost dropped the lute. Almost swallowed his own tongue as well. "Are you trying to kill me, Harrington?" he sputtered. "Don't you have enough to resurrect?"

Steven just shook his head, smirking. "That's a thought. But no. Breach of ethics - I'm pretty sure killing someone to resurrect them wouldn't make them want to join me. Plus, I was thinking less of a "fight for me" and more like "fuck me, possibly date me" - interested?"

Eddie stared at him with large eyes, moving his lips without any sound. "Uh...well, sounds good to me," he said, not very intelligently, but his brain was chanting kiss those moles pull that hair shut him up kiss him like right now maybe. "Do you...have a contract for that?"

Grinning, Steven - no, Steve, he asked to be called that several times and maybe this was the right time to give in to his wish - pulled Eddie to the ground with him. "For you? I'm sure I can draft something."

When Gareth, Robin and Chrissy arrived back from their supply run the next morning, they found Eddie and Steve curled against each other, fully clothed but very obviously satisfied. Robin just snickered and whispered to Steve that she wanted details, all the dirty, sticky and scandalous details, but Gareth just rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you disliked the guy when you said "Fuck him," he nudged Eddie as he unpacked healing potions.

Eddie closed his eyes and hummed a new melody that came to him with Steve's touches and gentle words. "It was open for interpretation," he laughed and reached for his lute.

[secretobsessionstuff]

A Fantasy Drabble?

A sickfic Fantasy Drabble!

(Sorry not a continuation of the last one)

---------

King Jareth summoned the physician to his daughter’s chambers as soon as he heard the girl cough. It was early morning, and young princess Tilly was just beginning to wake from her rough night of sleep. 

Jareth sat the girl on his lap and listened to her breathe as if he had a clue what he was doing. Her lungs did not rattle, nor did she wheeze. His worries ebbed, but he was pleased when the physician entered the room all the same. 

Doctor Ashben came prepared with his bulky bag that he seemed to struggle to carry in that morning. He lugged his powders and salves in vials along with bandages and tea. He set his bag down on the floor by the bed, using the sound of its clunking to mask his own cough. 

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Ash,” King Jareth said, giving his old friend a warm smile. Ashben had been the old physician’s apprentice when Jareth was still the prince. He and the doctor grew into their respective positions alongside each other. Although for the life of him, the King couldn’t remember if the doctor always had such a red nose or glassy eyes. 

“It’s no problem, my king.” Ashben said, sounding as if he had woken up minutes ago. The fatigue gave his voice a gravelly quality. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands excitedly as he turned towards the princess. “Now, miss Tilly. I hear you have a cough.” 

Tilly nodded shyly as she curled into her father’s side. 

Jareth chuckled. “Don’t be shy, dear. Cough for the doctor.”

The princess did as she was told. She listened to the doctor, coughed when necessary, breathed in and out—all the while, Ashben tried to keep himself from sneezing on the royal child. He rummaged in his bag, feeling as if his head might explode from the pressure. Finally, he emerged with a leather pouch. 

“Did the castle catch a cold, Ashben?” Jareth asked as he eyed the doctor. “It must be going around.” 

“It’s that time of year, I’m afraid.” Ashben did another inspection on the girl, looking over her eyes and nose. When finished, he handed the king the pouch. “These are herbal sweets, Jareth. It’s hardened honey and thyme. Have Princess Tilly suck on one when the coughing fits come on. That should sooth her throat.” 

“Thank you. I shall inform her nurse.” 

The King dismissed his daughter. She ran away happily as children often did even when they had the sniffles. Tilly would not be brought down by a cold. The same could not be said for the physician.

Jareth caught Ashben by the arm when the doctor rose on wabbly legs. “I’ve got you.” He grabbed the medical bag and slung it over his own shoulder. “Come, I’ll escort you back to your quarters. You should have sent that young lad in your place, Ash.” 

“Peter is not a morning person,” Ashben mumbled. “And I’m perfectly capable of doing my—” A tickle irritated his throat, causing him to hunch over with a coughing fit. He hacked and hacked until his eyes grew bloodshot and his vision went blurry. He moaned and said, “Fuck me, Jareth.” 

“I’ve already done that. Now, take one of these damn candies that you prescribed to my daughter.” 

They arrived at the staff’s quarters just as the lozenge melted away on Ashben’s tongue. He tried to give the king an appreciative nod, but he could barely see through the haze that clouded his vision. He leaned heavily into the arms that kept him upright. 

“Get some rest,” The King said. “I’ll make sure nobody sends for you.” 

“M’ sorry…couldn’t be of more help.” 

“Hush.” Jareth opened the door for his friend. “And don’t let me catch you in the halls until you’re well again.” 

[muggsyandfriends]

Muggsy and Friends in "Dragons of Stormwreck Isle" - Prologue

The journey was uneventful, but the island now visible off the prow promised rare wonders. Seaweed shimmered in countless brilliant colors below the ship's hull, and rays of sunlight defied the overcast sky to illuminate the lush grass and dark basalt rock of the island. Avoiding the rocks jutting up from the ocean, the caravel ship known as the Retsu (or, as its crew affectionately called it, "Retsu-gou") made its way toward a calm harbor on the island's north side.

Aboard this ship, other than the crew, was an unusual adventuring party: three goblin women, a Canvasborn (also known as a "Toon"), and what looked like a Deinonychus wearing leather barding and with a pair of weapons strapped to its back! Actually, all of them seemed to be carrying weapons, and were regarding the island ahead with varying levels of curiosity.

(Click below to read on!)

One of the goblin women, Falizi, stood 3'11" tall in a white button-up shirt and a pair of black slacks with suspenders. A pair of boxing gloves dangled by strings off of her hip, and a spear was strapped to her back. Short, purple hair wavered in the salty ocean breeze, above lime-green skin (both on her head and her leonine tail). Large, pointed ears stuck out from each side of her head as her onyx eyes scanned the coast of the island ahead.

"So, uh, Vee?" she spoke in her metropolitan drawl (an accent similar to Terra Firma's New York accent), "You said this place has an interesting library or something?"

She was addressing one of her closest friends, Veegriz. This goblin, around the same height as Falizi, could be identified by olive-green skin; long, unkempt, platinum-blonde hair that erupted from her head (and the tip of her tail) and cascaded down the back; a dark green dress, the skirt of which flowed in the wind; a wide, toothy, excited grin; and intense eyes with red irises. Falizi knew, however, that her friend wasn't as fervent as her gaze would lead some to believe.

Vee's large ears twitched in response to Falizi's query. "It does indeed, luv," she responded in an accent that people tended to associate more with goblins (the humans tended to call it a "cockney accent"; no one present really knew what a "cockney" was, nor had they yet found the time to find out). Vee's grin faded as she offered her friend a grim reminder. "But you remember what the old dwarf said about the island having its fair share of dangers, so keep those weapons ready." Vee adjusted her belt, attached to which were her own weapons: a light crossbow at the back of the belt, two daggers on one hip, and a sheathed sickle strapped to the other.

Standing at the side of the ship, carefully observing the island, was a slightly smaller goblin at 3'9". She was the third in the trio of goblins. Nobody knew her true name, but everyone called her "Jil". Her large, pale-green ears currently poked out the sides of her dark blue cloak, which shrouded her almost completely. Her short, black hair poked out from under the hood of her cloak as her purple eyes scanned the shores. She saw that there was a town closer to the waves, though still well above them. (Perception Check: 10 (Failure)) She wasn't able to make out the species of the town's populace, though she did notice they were quite a small people, whatever they were.

Her eyeshadowed gaze shifted down to the harbor.

Perception Check: 22 (Critical Success!)

Her eyebrows lifted and her eyes slightly widened when she noticed something among the weeds closer to the shore: dark shapes with blank, white eyes.

Jil then scowled at the submerged figures; something about them didn't seem trustworthy. She adjusted the strap keeping her shortbow and quiver tied to her back, then clutched both her shortsword and one of the two daggers strapped to her hips.

The tallest member of the group -- seven-foot-tall Muggsy Silo, the Canvasborn Tree Hob (a species related to goblins who lived in the trees and whose culture held hospitality in high regard) -- was too busy admiring the seaweed and sea life off the portside of the ship to notice Jil's action. His short, blonde hair was tousled by the breeze as his black-ink pupils shifted back and forth, watching the fish dart through the kelp forest below the waves.

However, Jil quietly made her way over to him and tapped him on the knee, directing his attention to her.

"Hm?" The towering Toon looked down curiously at the little goblin rogue.

"Danger in the water," she called up to him so that he'd hear her over the waves, "Keep your weapons ready."

Suddenly, Muggsy forgot how in awe of the maritime flora and fauna he was; now he was nervous, wondering what danger was in the water that he'd need the hammer (that is, maul) he brought for. He had expected them not to run into any trouble until they made it deeper inland, but now it seemed the trouble would come sooner...

Nearby, Scytheclaw -- the uplifted, brown-feathered Deinonychus (or Forest Raptor, as they were known in Terra Fantasia) -- heard Jil's warning (Perception Check: 20 (Success!)) and turned his attention to the shore. He, however, did not notice the same shapes that Jil did (Perception Check: 7 (Failure)), but made a mental note to try to be ready to pull out either the scimitar or the sickle strapped to his back.

A large, open-air temple came into view, perched on the edge of a cliff high above the Retsu. The caravel dropped anchor at the mouth of the harbor, and two sailors rowed the ragtag party ashore. They had plenty of time to admire the towering statue at the center of the temple, depicting a wizened man surrounded by seven songbirds. A long path wound up the side of the cliff to the temple, dotted along the way with doorways cut into the rock.

The sailors set the group ashore on a rickety dock, where a large rowboat was neatly tied. They pointed to the base of the path and wished the adventurers good luck before they rowed back to the ship. Our heroes' visit to Dragon's Rest had begun!

"Someone should take the lead, in case there are any threats on the way up."

Everyone present turned to the source of this advice, Scytheclaw. The raptor blinked when he realized the possible reason why: he was the toughest one there (Armor Class: 16).

"Right," he sighed, walking past the others, feathery brown tail waving behind himself. Jil went next, as she wore armor second in toughness to Scytheclaw (in other words, AC: 14). Falizi went next (AC: 13), and Muggsy and Vee (AC: 12) took up the rear. Such was the order the group left the dock and proceeded to cross the beach toward a set of stairs.

Jil redirected her attention to the dark shapes in the water, one hand on her shortbow, the other on her shortsword. And sure enough, as the party walked across the beach, the dark shapes started moving toward the shoreline.

As the party was about to leave the beach and start their climb, they heard a ruckus of splashing and a wet, gurgling moan from the ocean. Three figures were shambling up from the water's edge, about thirty feet away. They were dressed as sailors, but their skin was gray and saggy, and they looked drowned, each step they took squelching in the wet sands. Sea water drooled from their slack mouths as they lurched toward the group.

"ZOMBIES!"

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Perhaps they ought not to have eaten the dragon. There had been people objecting to it at the time. Surely such meat was poisonous. Perhaps it was even an affront, an insult to some intangible order of nature they ought to honour.

But the city was starving, the siege had gone on too long, and the king's troops were still a week's march away. The scorched earth would be fertile again in time, but right now it was barren. Right now there were mouths to feed. So they changed their crossbows for butcher knives and got to work.

None of the royal commanders asked any questions that could not be answered. After all, their aid had come shamefully late. The dragon's horned skull made a noble gift, a fitting tribute from a triumphant city to its humbled king. Who would have thought to question them?

And none of the townsfolk spoke up, when the first golden-eyed babes were born. Children who grew up barefoot and fearless, clambering over the city's patched and rebuilt roofs like they had no notion of falling, with a strange glitter to their skin when the sunlight hit it just so. No one breathed a word about dragons.

Because soon enough there were deft, young hands taking loaves straight out of the oven, heedlessly lifting iron from the forge, plunging into boiling laundry water. And some of them more wondrous still, wild, warm-skinned youths, with inexplicable knowledge and peculiar remedies.

A blessing, their families said proudly. A blessing after so much hardship. Which it was, in its way. This city would never fear dragon fire again.

[abevyofmuses]

Solo D&D Adventure: The Traveling Djinn in "Lost Mine of Phandelver" - Prologue

(A slightly different take on the D&D 5e starter campaign...)

In the grand, old-world metropolis of Yehoshua...

...a dark-bearded dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker had been looking for adventurers to help him with a task he would be unable to complete on his own. A trio of descended djinn (in other words, djinn whose normally-phenominal powers had been greatly reduced) named Zahra 'Abla, Fatin Tasnim, and Shahd Tabassum agreed to hear him out -- they had been looking for work for a variety of reasons, chief among them being a.) to provide for themselves by paying for food, drink and shelter, and b.) for the sake of quenching their curiosity and wanderlust -- and had decided to take up adventuring.

Gundren asked the trio to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin*, a couple of days' travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found "something big", and that he'd pay the ladies ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen's Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of the three on horse, along with a warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to "take care of business".

(continued below the cut)

The trio had spent the last few days following the High Road south from Yehoshua, and they'd just recently veered east along the Triboar Trail. They'd encountered no trouble by that point, but they knew this territory could be dangerous; bandits and other outlaws had been known to lurk along the trail.

Zahra, Fatin, and Shahd admittedly did miss being able to fly and teleport, among other, faster methods of getting around; if they still had their old abilities, they and the supplies (and perhaps Gundren and Sildar, if they accepted the djinn's help) would've been in Phandalin much sooner.

But they all knew complaining wouldn't get them their abilities back, so all they could do was make the most of it and hope they could somehow regain their power. Zahra, at least, still had some of hers -- namely, she had "Cetted Cagim", "Theref Lalf", "Jyam Dahn", "Shusiv Romkye", "Ngidmen", and "Etspaj'n-stridiu'hi"**.

The girls had been on the Triboar Trail for about half a day.

They all had different methods of passing the time. Zahra spent much of it reading and practicing alongside her Fayids. Fatin would sometimes run down the road in the opposite direction of where they were going, then run back to the wagon, just to get some exercise in; she would also practice sneaking around the terrain or under the wagon, as she had taken up the occupation of "rogue" ever since losing her potency as a djinni; otherwise, she was brainstorming pranks, among other things. As for Shahd, she would spend much of the time looking at the animals that their wagon would pass by; sometimes, she'd walk up alongside the oxen pulling the wagon and give them attention, attempting to pet them, feed them, talk to them...

Animal Handling checks: 8 (Failure), 2 (Failure), 0 (CRITICAL FAILURE)

Unfortunately, despite her love for animals, she always had bad luck with them. Three times she tried to interact with the oxen, and the first two times, the animals did not respond. The third time, the ox pulling the left side of the cart got fed up and, with a loud snort, swung its head around...

Ox -- Gore: 3+6=9

Shahd -- AC: 11 (Unarmored Defense)

Attack Missed

...nearly hitting Shahd with its horns. If she wasn't quicker and hadn't backed off in time, one of those horns would've stabbed her in the arm!

"Hey!" Fatin snapped at the ox, pulling on its reigns, "Fabio! No! Knock it off!"

Zahra put down her book and walked up to Fabio.

Animal Handling check: 15 (Success)

She held a carrot out in front of the irritated ox; that calmed it down, and it took the orange vegetable into its mouth and started eating. Zahra stroked it on the head, quietly soothing it.

Meanwhile, poor Shahd trudged back to the wagon and sat next to Fatin in the front seat, discouraged and sad.

"Don't worry, Shahd," Fatin reassured her as Zahra returned to the front seat of the wagon, as well, "you'll get the hang of it someday."

"I know, I know..." Shahd sighed. She made a mental note to read up on interacting with animals, as she suspected she herself was the problem.

As they drove the wagon around a bend, they beheld a grisly sight: two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of them, blocking the path. Each of the unfortunate animals had several black-feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods pressed close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side.

The sight of the dead horses did not improve Shahd's mood; she gasped in horror. "No...!"

Zahra pulled the reigns, causing the oxen to stop. Shahd was about to run over to the dead horses, but Zahra stopped her. "Wait, Shahd! Whoever shot those poor things are probably still around."

Shahd was clearly heartbroken; she never liked seeing animals get hurt. One thing was certain as she glared at the arrows; she was going to make whoever did this regret it.

The three djinn hopped out of the wagon, grabbing their respective weapons (a quarterstaff for Zahra, a shortsword and shortbow for Fatin, and a light hammer for Shahd (though, having taken up the "monk" style of combat, her fists were just as viable)) and looking around at the surrounding woods, attempting to spot anyone lying in wait...

Perception vs. Stealth

Zahra: 24 (CRITICAL SUCCESS!)

Fatin: 11

Shahd: 18

vs.

???: 14, 16, 17

Fatin couldn't see anybody. Shahd, however, could. And so, especially, could Zahra.

"Girls," Zahra warned, leveling her quarterstaff at the trees, "ready your weapons; we've got bandits watching us right now."

One round, green face with a wide, sharp-toothed grin, beady eyes, and large, bat-like ears pointing out from either side of its head, popped out of the trees on the left side of the road, and two more emerged from the right side. All three of these little assailants leveled their shortbows at the djinn.

It was unusual on Terra Fantasia for groups of any nature -- even such aggressive and often malevolent ones as raiding parties -- to consist entirely of only one species of this world's varied and fantastical people.

That was why seeing the highwaymen reveal themselves prompted Shahd to ask this one question: "Why are they all goblins?"

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

Next Chapter: Goblin Arrows

*(pronounced "FAN-duh-lin")

**Detect Magic, Feather Fall, Mage Hand, Vicious Mockery, Mending, and Prestidigitation, respectively; c's are pronounced as "ch", "Ng" should be pronounced the same way it always is at the end of a word (with the tongue pressing against the back of your mouth)

[phosvye]

Jason Todd is so whipped that he's willing to cave to your silly little advances. Cuddles? With that fluffy Hello Kitty blanket that stretches far and wide on that king mattress of yours? Fuck yes. Buying those overpriced Japanese strawberries? Why not. Buying the whole shelf full of Sanrio plushies? Bitch, take his money. Matching bracelets, matching shirts, matching pajamas? Take it. Take it all. That trend where you wrap pink ribbons around his muscles? Why the fucking fuck not?

That's your boyfriend. Your weak, doting, vigilante boyfriend.

He's also doting in bed—getting you off like he'll die if he can't make you squirt on that chiseled face of his. Holding you down until you just want to crawl away from the overwhelming pleasure. He's doting in a way that has him helping you hoist yourself up on his third fucking leg just to let you slam yourself down until you've thoroughly fucked the remaining intelligence out of that cute brain of yours. Doting in a way where he lets you pull his hair when you just can't take it anymore after cumming for the nth time, or when you bite him wherever.

That's your boyfriend. That's Jason Todd.

[ryiju-muunie]

Your boyfriend who sleepily fondled your naked body as you both napped together on your bed, letting calloused fingers drag along skin. Who pulled his erection out of his pants to drag his head along your ass, pressing against your warmth to satiate his heat.

He was so lust drunk off your scent it was hard to grasp what he was doing until the pleasure started. Hips grinding against your behind, fingers gripping into your stomach, and legs entangling upon legs. It felt so good how you squirmed underneath him, none the wiser.

His calloused fingers dipped into your wetness, to play along your clit as your mouth opened. It felt so good right? As he ground his erection into your ass and whimpered, “F-Fuck.. you feel so good..”

Your boyfriend spread you apart and slowly let one digit get sucked into your cunt, rubbing against your walls until it hit that perfect spot. Again he abused it, getting closer to his high and pulling one orgasm out of your sleeping body. You whined and bucked your hips as you came, releasing your fluids onto his palm.

“Good girl… that’s it..” He’d coo, pulling his hand back to lick his fingers from your juices as his orgasm started to build. It was slow before it got intense, blinding him with white hot pleasure. He bucked his hips and for a second he was sure he woke you when his spend squirted all along your back. But he was pleasantly surprised to hear you stir and snore softly, drifting back to sleep.

Your boyfriend who’d deny the claims he fucked you senseless while you slept, even though the evidence was stuck to your back.

Strawpage | Bluesky

[miks-delusional-blog]

BF!Jason Todd likes to put you to bed before he goes on patrol

He wants to make sure the apartment is in order. He’ll check the doors and windows are locked, that the camera in the front room and security sensors are working.

He’ll check the stove and oven are off, and that all the electrical sockets are off except essential ones. Can’t have any accidents while he’s away.

Lastly and most importantly, he’ll check you’re comfortable and cosy.

You think it’s sweet but also a little silly.

“Gonna check under the bed for monsters?” You tease.

“I will if you really want.” He kneels next to the bed by your side, pulling up your covers.

“You know I’m not 5 right?”

“Yeah I know you’re a big girl.”

You roll your eyes and he smiles.

“Just want to make sure you’re all good here before I go.” He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“I’ll be just fine baby. I always am.”

“I know… just humour me… let me put you to bed.” His teasing voice becoming softer.

“Okay okay…” you adjust from your sitting position, laying on your side towards him. You look up at him and take his hand. He leans over, his face a lot closer to yours now.

“…you sure you’re okay? You need me to get anything while I’m out?” He says low and soft.

“I’m good. Promise.”

“Call me if anything is wrong… and I better not come back and catch you playing on your phone.”

You giggle, “gonna discipline me if I misbehave?”

He scoffs, his lips twitching into a smile “you’d love that. Wouldn’t you?” He exhales still amused. “I’m serious though. Don’t want you up and worryin’ about me or watching silly cat videos. You know I get a notification every time you send a stupid cat video to me?”

“Oh yeah..” you laugh a little embarrassed but he just smiles warmly.

“Just don’t stay up. I don’t think it’ll be an early night for me. Investigating something right now so…I’ll keep you updated.” He leans in to kiss your cheek.

“You missed.”

“Don’t worry doll that weren’t your bed time kiss…” he leans in again planting a soft kiss on your lips. He separates his face still close to yours. With half lidded eyes, he mumbles, “I love you…goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Jay… I love you too.”

After a beat, he straights before standing up and heading to the window. He lingers, looking back at you.

“…Stay safe out there Jay.” You pull the covers up a little higher. “I want you back in once piece.”

Jason puts on his helmet. “I’ll come back alive.”

You huff with slight amusement before he climbs onto the fire escape and into the night.

You turn off your bedside lamp before relaxing into the bed. Your eyes drift to the window, slowly fluttering shut as you fall asleep.

Jason wants to make sure you sleep well. That your comfortable and as worry free as possible. Not for just your sake but for his own too.

He hates it when you’re pacing around waiting up for him. His vigilantism has been a point of worry for you, and he hates it but he can’t stop it can he?

He also need to be sure that your safe at home. He hates to leave but he has to patrol. He’s patrolled the city hundreds of times but he still gets a tinge of nervousness in his stomach.

He needs to be the one to make sure your apartment is safe. Not that he doesn’t trust you but he needs to see every window locked and secured, the chain on front door, the sensors functioning.

He needs to make sure you’re safe and cosy while he’s away.

You’re his everything.

You’re what he fights for, otherwise what’s all this for?

[evamame]

ushijima gives the bluntest compliments. you two will just be walking together, hand in hand, and he’ll randomly blurt out something like, “you look very beautiful today.” or “i like when you smile like that.” he never sugarcoats his words, but that’s exactly how you know he is so genuine with everything he says. nothing he tells you is anything but the complete and honest truth. and through every fleeting moment where he acknowledges his inner thoughts out loud, one thing is clear—he’s so deeply in love with you.

[bnyf]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

[watercolorfreckles]

I'm currently working on part 4 of this, so go ahead and reread parts 1-3 to refresh your memory!!

Deep Blue - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

The sea became an inky black, or maybe that was just his vision tunneling. His head swooped with hungry shadows ready to swallow him down into that darkness.

The pirate blinked forcefully, shaking his head and tossing away with it the heavy tug of unconsciousness.

He had to stay awake.

He could see, now, that the water wasn't black, but red. With every stroke of the siren's tail, plumes of blood sullied the water.

The siren's movements began to slow, and the claws gripping the pirate's collar eased. He glanced down at her, through the bleary haze of salt water.

The siren's eyelids sagged. With a final languid sweep of her tail, the siren fell still, drifting motionless in the brackish water.

The pirate ripped away from her, kicking for the surface. His lungs ached and his ears popped with the changes in pressure.

Breaching the surface, he gasped in a greedy gulp of air. Coughing and panting, he scanned their surroundings.

The view was different, now, than it was where they’d entered the water. His attention snagged on the hollowed-out, fallen tree that helped orient him: They had traveled a significant distance around the crook of the bay. The fisherman was no longer within sight.

The shoreline wasn't terribly far. He could certainly swim that distance, even if it left him aching.

His gaze traveled back down to the smear of bloody waters around him. The siren was hurt badly...

If he left her, she would bleed to death.

Groaning, the pirate dove back down. He squinted, eyes readjusting to the darkness until he found her again. She looked almost peaceful then, suspended in the silky depths, golden hair floating around her head like a halo.

Grabbing the beautiful, deadly creature under the arms, the cabin boy hauled her to the surface. When he broke through, his breath came ragged with effort.

Keeping hold of the siren, he reclined to float on his back. He kicked his legs and towed her with him.

It was a slow and grueling process, fighting the waves that tumbled over his face to stall his breath. Only able to use his legs to swim, dragging the dead weight of the siren required all the strength in his arms.

It felt an eternity later that the pirate collapsed on the sand next to the beautiful, deadly creature he'd lowered down with care.

His limbs burned.

But the siren was still bleeding.

The harpoon had splintered in half upon impact, leaving its head buried within the scar of jagged flesh it had carved into the tight knit of her scales.

The sunlight traced the angles of her face, ethereal and unmoving in sleep. She looked like the sort of statue carved of marble that artists spent an eternity molding to angelic perfection. The gold of her tail outshone the sun.

Her blood stained the sand.

He groaned again. "Why do I feel responsible for you?! You just tried to kill me! If I left you here, that would be my right."

The pirate watched the siren as if expecting a reply. 

Throwing his gaze heavenward, he murmured a curse.

She would never survive here on the shore, not after his boss had the opportunity to flood gossip through the whole town of what he'd seen.

He shoved to his feet despite the protest of his legs.

"Alright, alright, I won't leave you, Golden. Don't worry."

The pirate slid his arms under the siren, bracing himself before heaving her into his hold. His muscles strained with the effort and he swayed on his feet, off balance.

He clenched his teeth and took one step, then another. He finally stepped into the treeline, carrying the mermaid the painstaking distance back to the abandoned cabin he'd claimed as the place to rest his head since coming to this dull, little town. 

Kicking open the door, the pirate plopped the siren onto the bed, shoving the door shut again and letting himself crumple to the floor.

He still needed to tend to the siren's wound, and he would. Just after a moment's reprieve.

After the first slow blink, his eyes were too heavy to open again.

He fell into slumber as though sinking over the edge of a drop-off.

---

The cabin boy woke to the sound of screaming.

He sat up in a panicked jolt. "What-"

His gaze met the siren's.

The... former siren's.

Where her tail once was, two human legs sprawled in its place. The spearhead and wound were still there, however, marring the smooth flesh of her bare upper thigh.

The pirate quickly averted his gaze. "What-" he repeated.

Fury burned behind the gold of the former siren's eyes. "What have you done, you insufferable human!" she screamed.

Snarling, she lunged at the pirate, promptly wobbling and crashing to her knees.

The cabin boy caught her by the shoulders.

She recoiled from his touch, hissing and swiping at him with nails far duller than the claws she'd once possessed.

Easily snatching up her wrists and squeezing, the pirate held her still. "Easy. Easy. You've lost a lot of blood."

Their eyes met. Hers, a knife's point. Her bare chest heaved with quick breaths.

The pirate made a point not to look.

He could see the exhaustion sweep over her as she slumped back against the bed frame, pressing a hand to her wound.

The cabin boy let her go, watching her carefully. "I'm going to get something to stop the bleeding and clean that. Don't move."

He felt her gaze on him as he retrieved a bottle of rum, a towel, a wooden spoon, and a spare bed sheet. Returning to her side, the pirate carefully lifted her back onto the bed.

The siren hissed again like an animal and skittered back until she hit the wall. "Get away from me."

"I'm trying to help you, Goldie," the pirate said, exasperated. "That could get infected. Besides, do you expect to walk around with that broken harpoon in your leg?" He paused and blinked. "Granted, I haven't deigned to expect you to walk... at all." He gestured to her newfound limbs.

The siren bared her teeth. "This is your fault! Any siren can give up their tail by venturing onto land and drying out. Such is a disgrace! Should a siren want to subvert herself into human scum, the ocean will indulge her."

The cabin boy raised his hands in placation. "Then when you're better, I'll take you back to the water."

"No," she snapped. Her gaze dropped down to her legs, blonde waves curtaining her face. When she spoke again, her voice was raw and soft. It carved its way through his chest all the same; the warbling hum of a plucked violin string. "It... It cannot be undone."

Something twisted in the pirate's stomach.

He should be glad to leave the ocean with one less monster; to make the waters an ounce safer for fellow unsuspecting sailors.

His thoughts flashed to the heaving storms able to capsize ships; to the rocks and reefs the sailors must avoid, and the gaping expanse of open ocean when no land is in sight.

Sailing the Deep Blue was never about safety.

Dangerous as the creature before him had been, she was a creature of the sea. To take that from her would be to cleave the fins from a fish, or cut the wings from a bird and call it justice.

He swallowed. "I'll do what I can for you, Golden," he said softly, lifting the towel.

The siren flinched, eyeing him pointedly.

Meeting her gaze briefly with a look of what he hoped was reassurance, he proceeded slowly, pressing the towel around her wound. "I need to get the spearhead out. This won't be pleasant. Bite down on this." He held the wooden spoon out to her.

The siren glared but obeyed, taking it between her teeth.

The cabin boy did his best to ease the spikes of the spearhead out without ripping it out straight backward. Harpoons were made to hook into the blubber of whales, not with the intent of slipping free seamlessly.

When he'd positioned the weapon so that he could remove it with the least damage possible, he pulled it out.

The siren shrieked, dropping her head back against the wall.

"Shh, shh, all done, it's done," the pirate said, pressing the towel more firmly against the wound. "You did great. All that's left is to clean and dress the wound." His hand moved on its own, tucking the siren's hair out of her eyes.

Her attention snapped to him. But she didn't bite or claw or hiss.

For a moment, he could only stare, transfixed.

Becoming human did not dull the allure of her.

Clearing his throat, the pirate bit the cork of the rum bottle, spitting it aside. "This will sting..."

He poured the alcohol over the afflicted flesh and the siren softly screeched again.

"I'm sorry, golden, all done, see?" Quickly tearing the spare sheet into strips, he set to work wrapping the wound and tying the makeshift bandage off. "There."

He glanced up at her again. "Oh. Here."

He shucked his white button-down shirt off and wrapped it around the siren's exposed shoulders.

Her face creased with confusion as she lifted one sleeve.

The cabin boy's lips twitched up into a smile. "You put your arms through. Like this." Using gentle fingers, he helped her thread her arms through before working on the buttons, averting his gaze and fumbling awkwardly as he did so.

"There." When he looked back up at her face, the siren was already asleep.

He studied her in the dimming light. Something about her registered as angelic. Nothing so deserving of the title of sea demon.

And yet… It would be foolish of him to let himself become ensnared by the lethal creature that wanted nothing more than to drown sailors such as him. Beautiful as she may be.

What had he gotten himself into?

The pirate leaned back against the wall and listened to the steady swell of the siren's breathing.

Thank you to @valiantlytransparentwhispers and @writing-on-the-wahl for being betas :)

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl, @valiantlytransparentwhispers, @distance-does-not-matter, @redbircl, @lilaccatholic, @crazytwentythrees, @thelazywitchphotographer, @chibicelloking, @lolafaiy, @thinkwrite5, @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher, @sunflower1000, @bouncyartist, @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen, @silverwhisperer1, @distractedlydistracted, @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuicee, @deflated-bouncingball  @maybe-a-cat42

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Fantasy Villain

Imagine you’ve been transported to a DnD-Fantasy-like world. Quests, adventurers, and mystical beasts are everything you could dream of. You’ve already established your little troupe; becoming an important cornerstone of the group. Whatever your class, you’re excelling at they really rely on which is why things go badly when you meet him—-the recurring villain of this world.

“Oh my–oh my Zoth.”

“What? Do I horrify the little hero!?”

“No, you’re–”

“Worse than you imagined?”

“No, you’re–”

“(Y/n) stop freezing up!”

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met!”

The group is horrified as they plan a tactical retreat, finding it easier to thwart the Fantasy Villain’s attacks which are suddenly less frequent.  The group just assumes you’ve been enchanted because since you’ve locked eyes with him you’ve been unable to stand on your feet. Wide-eyed and breathing heavy you just can’t stop the heat climbing over your face and ears as you replay the moment you met over and over. 

“You realize he’s a part of the ugliest most horrible race known to all of Azarothan.”

“If that’s ugly then I’m dead!”

“M-maybe he did enchant them?”

Meanwhile, the Villain’s returned to home base, shedding his armor and dismissing his entourage. Sat on his throne he replays the words you’ve said to him…over and over….and over again. His ears are turning a deep blue and he can’t help the involuntary reaction of the volcano attached to his castle bubbling with excitement.

“They-they think I’m beautiful?!”

He’s reeling with an overflow of energy and unknown vigor when he recalls your awestruck face as you fell to your knees clutching your enchanted tool. He can’t stop the thought of you in that same position but in a different setting. Cursing his lacking imagination he concocts his usual magic to spy on the troupe with his crystal ball but this time he’s focused solely on you. 

“Surely they’ll brag about the enchantment they left on me…..and maybe talk about their own infatuation again.”

It strokes a different kind of pride when he hears you deny being cursed. The feelings are mutual. He’s over the moon all four of them. You have to understand the Fantasy Villain has never been told something so flattering. 

“From another world….figures. This world could never make such…a perfect soul.”

Since their upbringing, they’ve been met with nothing but scorn and hatred. Vowing to rule and change the world that did that to him. If others did express interest it was because he had power or was literally about to kill them. Your reaction, your unadulterated feelings for him, the tug at his soul is the only sign he needs before his objective changes. 

“I wanted to rule the world so I could change the world for me. But now I’m going to change the world so I can rule with them.”

He means it. The troops are given new orders, the deadly nightmarish beasts are given new tasks, and he’s already concocting a million different plans to attain you. He watches the crystal ball relentlessly trying to hear and see as much as he can to learn more about you. He realizes very quickly that he really hates those adventurers of yours.

“C’mon (Y/n)! Just because you’re attracted to the enemy doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to destroy the world!”

“Yeah (Y/n), you’ve got to get your head in the game. We need you!”

“I–your right…sorry guys…I just don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who fits my preferences so perfectly.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“But one look in his galaxy-like eyes and it felt like I did.”

He really hates them. Listening to them talk you out of your feelings for him. Before you arrived they were minor pests. Simply a small roadblock that he would eventually crush to shatter the hopes of the people when they needed them most. Now they were just obstacles in the way of his goal–you.

“Sire those adventurers you told us to keep an eye on are on the move. Should I give the order to attack?”

“No…summon the siren I’d like to take a different approach.”

He gets incredibly crafty, despite only meeting you once he can tell you aren’t heartless like he. He’s certain should you find him to be responsible for the death of anyone you’ve met you’d reject his love. So he’ll make it his plan to slowly break your little troupe, such spunky and erratic individuals may be just the only tool he needs.

“My orders, My Ruler?”

“Join their group. Do what you like with whoever you wish. 

“?”

“Bring discord how you see fit.”

“Yes, My Ruler!”

His plan is perfect and the group isn’t nearly suspicious enough to reject his double agent. Who’s presence triggers the cracks that this group had always had. When the group splits apart needing to cool off you’re left alone, a perfect chance for a moment with you. 

“Hello, little hero.”

“Whoa, what are you doing here? My troupe’s not too far! A-a-a-nd I–I’m willing to fight this time!”

“That’s a shame because I came to speak to you.”

“Really! Ahem, I mean about what?”

“About those words, you said to me….I wonder did you know what they’ve ignited.”

Taking advantage of your easily lowered guard, he speaks the truth. Coming in close enough to feel the heat escaping from your armor, he’ll share the tale of his past. Which as he predicted makes you so sympathetic and just as willing to sing his praises as the moment you met. 

“But you’re not ugly or horrid like they all say.”

“No?”

“I think you’re beyond handsome. One of the most ethereal beings I’ve ever met.”

“Do you truly think so?”

“I know so… I’m just sorry no one else has told you that.”

“I’m happy it was you.”

When you let him dive in for a kiss, naturally you accept it. Returning his vigor in kind if not with sympathy or just your attraction, you miss how he places a magical mark on your neck. Or how he casually enchants your armor to protect you better. Or how he influences the flora and fauna of the forest to curve in the direction you came from essentially blocking the path back to your camp. When he reluctantly releases you he further promises he’s never letting you leave his grasp. Promising to one day have you on the throne beside him.

“I must return and so must you. Your friends will worry.”

“Oh…you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so sad, we’ll meet again.”

“Not just in my dreams.”

“Not just in your dreams.”

He leaves not only giddy with love but with a new plan in mind. He prepared to be faced with a struggle, to have to fight for your affection as the enemy you’d be fighting. But he wasn’t prepared for your heart to be swayed so easily. Licking your remnants on his lips, he knows that you can be deceived, and conveniently so can the rest of the world.

Fantasy Villain devises that if the history of his race’s banishment and exile were portrayed in a certain light. You could defect to his side without guilt and if some of the more stubborn adventurers were to also agree that’d make things so much easier. Pretending to be persuaded to sign some peace treaty after being gifted enough land to rule over with you beside him didn’t sound too bad.

Even if that didn’t work the Fantasy Villain has decided you will rule beside him whether he has to trick, drug, or force you to be his. Though he adores the honest love in your eyes when he looks at you and he’s going to do whatever he needs to have it. 

[titania-sleeps]

idea pitch (adonis and dion fics in the works i promise), tell me if yall like this and if this should get a full oc + fics

yandere!sea spirit who is just a minor sea deity and met you, the moon goddess, one day. he's instantly drawn to you, as the tides are to the moon.

yandere!sea spirit who stares at you longingly every night as you come out from hiding, dragging the moon on your chariot. the legends say that you've fallen for a mere human before, and a sleeping youth at that! if a human had a chance for your affections, surely he would too?

yandere!sea spirit who gathers seashells and sparking stones he finds during his day to slowly weave the perfect necklace for you. he wants to court you properly, and the first thing that he must do is make you the greatest gift. and then he will imbue the necklace with a conjuration that brings you safety and peace.

yandere!sea spirit who finds the courage to talk to you one night. he was a stuttering and blushing mess, but you gave him a lighthearted laugh and suddenly nothing mattered anymore. only you and your joy did, at that very moment, and he was smitten. after you left, he was crestfallen realizing that he forgot to give you the necklace he made.

yandere!sea spirit who yearns to talk to you again, staring up at the night sky day by day, hoping to catch your attention for yet another moment.

yandere!sea spirit who attends the party thrown by the gods (luckily invited, though he was just a sea spirit), finding you easily in the crowd. clutching the necklace tightly in his hand, he moves through the crowd, an urgent river in the stream of people.

yandere!sea spirit who lights up as he finally reaches you. he composes himself, checking to make sure the necklace is still in perfect condition. he's about to talk to you until he sees a scathing light next to you, a burning devastation.

yandere!sea spirit who finds out that you're engaged to the sun god. you're too happy about that, and he's oh so very jealous. the sea and the moon are meant to be; the sun and moon are fated to never meet. so why aren't you looking at him instead?

yandere!sea spirit who leaves that night without gifting you the necklace. but that doesn't matter; you and him are drawn to each other like magnets, he knows, so he will bide his time and wait for the right time to bring you to him. even if it means usurping the greatest ocean god, even if it means he has to become the embodiment of the sea. he isn't in a hurry; he will wait a millennium if he has to.

and then the sea will swallow the moon, caging her gently in his worshipping warm waters. the sky and the sun didn't deserve to have you.

-> masterlist

[muggsyandfriends]

Journal Entry 1: The Rift

Hello, Journal, this is Lee, amateur biologist. I've been investigating a strange phenomenon in the woods near my house: a rift! A wormhole! I don't know how long this thing had been active; I've only seen it for the first time a couple of days ago. Only today did I decide to take a closer look.

It was hanging just above the forest floor, and it looked like it was opened up onto a blue sky. When I left home, I took some supplies with me and had a friend of mine look after my dog, Diesel, as I suspected something would happen to cause me to be absent for a while.

Unfortunately, something did happen.

You see, I decided to look through the portal to see what was on the other side, and sure enough, there was a blue sky...and the portal was hanging a good distance above a forest! I leaned forward to try to see any more details.

Big mistake.

I overbalanced and ended up falling through the portal and through the air! At first, I was terrified, as I'm sure most people would be (which is why I'm not ashamed to say I was screaming)...but then I realized, I was falling...slowly? Well, maybe not slowly, but not fast enough to hit terminal velocity. ...I hoped. Either way, upon registering this, I stopped screaming and righted myself in midair to try to land on my feet.

In retrospect, I wonder if that was the right call; I'm an amateur biologist, not any level of physicist or whatever would be required to know what height would break bones.

Fortunately, I needn't have worried, because suddenly, there was a pillow beneath me?? I enjoyed a soft landing, but I was also very confused as to where it came from.

A quick look to my left answered my question, but also raised quite a few more.

Holding the pillow on an arm that was stretched out quite far was...a cartoon character... I had to blink, then check my head for any injuries, to make sure I wasn't seeing things. When he didn't disappear, I slapped myself just to be certain.

Not only was he still there, he now looked a bit concerned.

Him and the three goblins who were with him.

Yes, goblins. Females, from what I could tell.

One was garbed in a dark green dress, with a crossbow and a sickle strapped to her back; one, dressed in a white button-up shirt and black slacks with suspenders, and who had boxing gloves dangling by strings from one hip and a spear strapped to her back; and one, in a hooded cloak that covered her eyes, a short bow and a quiver of arrows slung across her back.

I didn't quite register everything at the time, because that was when we heard a deep, rumbling noise. We all turned to the source of the noise, which was a good distance from us to my right (I don't remember if it was east, west, etc.).

That was when I received yet another shock. Standing at the edge of the clearing of what I realized was a forest was, of all things, an Iguanodon.

Now more than ever, one question screamed in my mind: WHERE THE HELL AM I!?

I didn't even register that we were running away from the living, breathing dinosaur that chased us until we were out of the forest. As we kept running, it snorted and walked back into the trees -- in hindsight, I wonder if we were in its territory...

Now we're stopped to rest under a tree in the middle of the plains of this new world I find myself in. The...cartoon character and goblins...have been trying to speak to me, but I can't understand their language. They seem to be discussing something now.

Journal, I'm starting to wonder if I made the right choice, investigating that portal. I need to get home and make sure Diesel and my house alright. Especially Diesel.

I'll get back to you in the next entry, Journal. They seem to be wrapping up their conversation.

But my God.

Where am I?

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Picture this: Dragons using their caves to age cheese. Dragon Cheesemakers!!

The dragon coiled his enormous body, completely blocking the entrance of the tunnel that lead to the caves.

“No,” he snarled, smoke pluming from his nose.

The cheesemonger pinched the bridge of her own nose. “Look, I explained this to you at the start,” she tried once more. “I make cheese.”

“Yes,” the agreed, nodding his scaly head.

“Then I bring the cheese here.”

“Yes.”

“Then you store all the cheese in your cave, keeping it at the perfect temperature and humidity.”

“Yes.” He sounded particularly proud of this part.

“And then when the cheese has ripened,” she concluded. “I come to pick the cheese up again.”

A thunderous scowl clouded his maw. “No.”

“But that’s how it works!” she cried in exasperation. “I make the cheese, you store the cheese, I sell the cheese, I make more cheese!” She peered up at him. “You do realise I cannot bring you new cheese until I have sold this cheese.”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “Ah, but what if—” he began. “What if you go and make more cheese. And bring me the cheese. And I put it in my cave, with the rest of the hoard. And then I keep it there forever.”

“No,” she said flatly.

It was remarkable how much a dragon could look like it had just swallowed a lemon.

“You can’t keep cheese forever,” she insisted. “It will spoil and go bad!”

“You said it would get better and better!” the dragon roared indignantly. “And I take good care of them! With the air flow and the humidity and the temperature!”

“And that is great,” she said, trying to smile through her frustration. “But when a cheese is ripe, it’s ripe! Then you should not be kept anymore, it should be eaten.”

The dragon scraped it’s formidable claws against the stony ground and sulked.

“Look…” The cheese mongering business did not tend to require a lot of sweet-talking, but she was making an effort. “I’m sure the cheeses that aged in your cave are the best cheeses people have ever tasted. When they find out how delicious they are they will want us to make loads more. Maybe several caves’ worth!”

The reptilian eyes stared at her with disgruntled, reluctant interest. “Several caves?”

“If we’re lucky! And I could make so much cheese that I could bring you new cheese as soon as I pick up the aged cheese. Your cave would never even be empty!”

This seemed to strike a chord. The dragon lifted his head a little.

“And that would really be much better for the rest of your hoard,” she continued with fresh inspiration. “Because if you leave cheese too long, it might go bad and spoil the cheeses next to it too!”

A nervous ripple went through the beast’s scaly body, but he clearly was not convinced just yet. “But what sort of a hoard is it if I have to give it away,” he complained.

“Well! Cheese is not just any old hoard! It’s a developing creation! And you will have a hoard that is constantly developing too. Constantly changing, but, if we do this right, never shrinking.”

The dragon looked at her solemnly, wavering with uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t hold it against the poor thing, it must be a difficult concept to wrap his head around.

“And I will tell you what,” she said encouragingly. “If business is good, I can start investing in some really good crumbly cheeses. You can keep those in your cave for five whole years!”

“That is quite a long time for humans, is it not?” he said, sounding a little more cheerful.

“Very long. Especially when it comes to cheese. Cheeses that have been aged that long are very expensive.”

In retrospect, she should perhaps have led with that. Gourmand or not, a dragon was still a dragon after all. A glittering, toothy grin appeared on her recalcitrant business partner’s shout and he moved just enough for her to move past him into the mountain.

“Tell me more about this expensive cheese that crumbles.”

She hid a smirk. “If you help me carry some of the current ones out, it would be my pleasure.”