#fantasy drabble

[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.

[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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[the-likeable-wizard-mack]

So, I know MOST (Not all) urban fantasy stuff usually takes place in modern day or a sort of futuristic type of modern day equating to our world. However, I’ve been on a binge on watch old commercials from the 50′s, 60′s and 70′s and with how much I love alternate time lines and history I am really inspired to think about an urban fantasy setting in these time periods.  Imagine those old fashioned ads where instead of a human family it’s a family of vampires or other forms of adds with other species. 

[toast-com]

A Shade's Trial

(drabble inspired by this song)

Andreas drew her sword, staring at her shadow, which did the same.

"...I guess this is my trial..." She murmured, the midnight breeze blowing across the silver, moonlit field. She smiled, pointing blade at her shadow, who mimicked her movements. She lunged at her shadow, swinging her blade in a deadly arc. Her shadow parried her attack, and the duel began. Under the moonlight the two combatants fought, their blades glowing white in the moonbeams. The shadow's blade swung at Andreas, honed edge emitting a deadly hum, barely missing her. She frowned at her shadow, who stared at her blankly, crimson eyes glowing eeriely.

"It seems..." Andreas began, sheathing her blade. "Yet again...we are at a draw..."

[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.

[yawnderu]

dubcon, somnophilia, groping, masturbation. MDNI.

Roommate!König is such a pathetic virgin loser that he gets a painful boner when you fall asleep on his meaty thighs :(( you look so perfect when you're asleep, trusting him completely and finding comfort on his size and warmth.

He's your protector, of course he feels horrible about being such a loser! He's full of shame as he rubs his hard cock over his boxers, trying to get enough friction while being slow to not wake you up. His other hand is groping your tits, squeezing the fat and feeling the softness spread all over his palm, overflowing out of his fingers.

It takes him a lot of courage to pull his meaty cock out, jerking off at such an agonizingly slow pace that he has tears rimming his pretty eyes as he focuses on the drool coming down the corner of your lips.

He takes a deep breath, angling your head to be able to rub his leaking tip against your pretty lips, almost cumming at the sensation of your warm breath hitting his cock. He has to bite his lip to prevent himself from groaning, quickly putting his cock back in his boxers when he feels you stirring awake.

[thestuffedalligator]

“Back in ‘98, Tommy Harrington caught a fairy on his trapline and got to have a wish. So Tommy wished for a new Dodge Ram 1500, and that truck was the queen of every mud bog in the county for the next five years.

“Course, by that time folks found out that the truck was alive. We reckon it was really a fey spirit or boggle ensorcelled into a vehicular shape. We didn’t mind it much at first, but then Patty Armstrong got her truck stolen and switched with a changeling.

“So if you go driving on the backroads sometime tonight and see a ‘98 Dodge Ram driving without an owner, that’s Tommy’s truck, and that’s why we hang horseshoes on the rearview. It’s looking for a truck to take back to the faerie, ‘cause Titania saw the fun we were having and she wants in.”

[angelltheninth]

NNN Day 6 with Cloud Strife

Pairing: Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, frustration, cum swallowing, face fucking, caring!Cloud Strife

A/N: First week is almost over!

"Sorry, I'm sorry for... being rough but... ah fu-uck!" Cloud couldn't stop himself from moving his hips faster and faster as he came inside your mouth. This was his second orgasm of the night, the first was inside your pussy which was still sensitive from before. The poor swordsman couldn't help himself once his cock was sheathed inside your walls.

You could still taste yourself on his cock, the combined taste of both of you on his cock made your eyes roll back even more then the rush of new cum down your throat. "It's okay Cloud, really." You swallowed as he looked at you with those apologetic eyes.

"It's not though. I could have hurt you." Cloud cupped your sore jaw, his hands careful not to put any more pressure on you as he wiped the strings of cum off your lips, "All cause I held off for so long." And yet his cock was still hard. After almost a week even two times wasn't enough to satisfy him. "I can take care of- ah! Wa-i-!" Could fell forward, his head almost hitting the wall when you lunged forward and took his cock in your mouth again. "Is this really okay?"

All you could do was nod. You could have stopped and gave him a real answer but the truth was that you missed his taste, the feeling of his cock in your mouth.

He held off for six days, came twice, so that leaves four more creampies for you to get.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Love After Death

Yandere Skeleton x Fem Reader

I’m obsessed with Kate Bush’s song ‘Army Dreamers.’ So I decided to write a story about a soldier who died during a war, but he came back to life just to fulfill his promise of coming home to his lover…

There was a Great War many years ago between monsters and humans. A war that took countless innocent lives all due to the human’s greed. A war that took the life of your lover, Zered. Your childhood sweetheart.

Zered was a young sorcerer from the magic tower. A prodigy and pioneer of magic with a heart of gold. He was the man you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. You wanted to run your fingers through those blonde curls until the two of you were balding and wrinkly. To look into those sea foam eyes until you couldn’t. To press soft kisses against his full lips until your lungs burned. You loved that man more than anything in this world… but the war took him from you.

Zered may have died a hero of the empire, but you couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped its fingers into your heart. Your beloved was no nothing more of a war story. A great sorcerer who was able to take down the dragon enemies to give time for reinforcements to arrive. A war hero. And they couldn’t even bring a single remain of him back to you…

You sighed as you sipped on some homemade ale. Your eyes glanced at the sun’s rays that danced across the hay fields in sorrow. This was the cottage the two of you were going to live in for the rest of your days. The one you’d start a family in that was now cold and empty. It didn’t matter that the sun hit it perfectly each time, Zered wasn’t here.

You rock back and forth in the rocking chair. The birds weren’t singing their melodic tunes like they normally did. Which was odd. Why weren’t the birds singing- you almost screamed when you see a dark figure slink through the meadow towards your cabin. What on earth was an undead doing here?!

You quickly sprang up from your chair and fell over since you were a bit tipsy. Crap. Crap. Crap! You needed to head inside before that creature got to you.

You let out a shrill shriek of terror when the skeleton stood in your porch. Its red eyes stared into your very soul as it tilted its head to the side. Oh god… this was it. This was the end. You were going to be ripped apart by this hideous creature-

You went still when the creature threw itself into your arms as it released weeping noises. The skeleton whined and shook as its arms wrapped around your body in a tight hug.

“H-home. I… home.” The skeleton’s voice was a spin chilling rasp. A small tuft of blonde on its head showed that it was once human.

What did it mean by being home- wait. This cousin possibly be?

“Zered?” You gasped when the skeleton pressed its teeth onto your cheek like it wanted for press a kiss against your cheeks. “Zered, what happened?”

“Home… home.” Zered was barely to rasp out legible words. The skeleton cupped your face in its palms. “Love you… I home.”

[deunmiu-dessie]

royalty!reader who's on the run from their tyrannical uncle who is hell-bent on taking the throne for himself. royalty!reader who's the sole surviving royal descendant. royalty!reader who finds themselves without shelter as the unforgiving winter of the north looms closer. royalty!reader who's stranded in a big, dark cavern, struggling to stay warm. royalty!reader who delves deeper into the cave, unknowingly awakening a sinister creature lurking in the shadows. dragon!lover who's large in all aspects. dragon!lover who can't help but tease the royal by threatening to eat them. dragon!lover who sleeps atop mountains of gold. dragon!lover who always runs hot. dragon!lover who blows smoke into your face constantly. dragon!lover whose voice literally rattles your bones. dragon!lover who begrudgingly allows you to stay in the cave. dragon!lover who figures, he'll put your body to good use during the winter as payment. ˙ᵕ˙

"you do not scare me, dragon."

with a quivering exhale, you feel the dragon's firm touch from behind, his warm lips caressing the sensitive skin of your neck. despite the cold draft in the spacious den, caspian burns with the intense, thick, molten fire that swells within his chest.

the aroma of smoke and the biting winter blizzard that howls just a few steps away permeate his scaly skin, a tantalizing combination that sets you aflame, igniting a fiery surge of warmth in the depths of your belly; leaving you intoxicated and dizzy under his searing touch. your nerves tighten like a coiled spring as his lips tantalizingly brush against the tender curve of your ear. "you should be scared."

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

[jkslipppiercing]

(warning: smut)

"see how good you take my cock, now?" when all you do is bounce on his cock repeatedly moaning instead of giving him a proper answer, jungkook snaps his hips up and into your entrance sharply demanding a reply.

"words, baby." he rasps into your ear from his position behind you. in the heat of the moment, the pleasure youre experiencing having been too much to handle at your state, your head had lolled back onto his shoulder with your eyes shut tight in ecstasy as you continue to ride him.

his hand snakes onto your neck and he barely squeezes, not enough to cut off your oxygen but enough to prove who's in control. "look at me."

you open your eyes then, and the most pornographic pitched moan escapes your throat when you see how beautifully jungkook fills you up. "see how well you take me? such a good girl. you're doing so well." you clench around him at the praise, moaning when he hits a good spot.

his hips continue to snap into yours rapidly as you try to bounce on him with equal efforts; wetness and precum oozes onto the floor and your clit's achy and swollen. from the looks of it, it's clear how sore you're gonna wake up tomorrow.

earlier, roughly thirty minutes ago, you had told jungkook you wanted to experiment with your sex life. he had been happy to oblige.

this is how he gave it to you. with a mirror situated in front of both of you as he sits on the floor, you bouncing on his cock with your back to him.

everything's exposed...vulnerable.

you've never been more turned on by the sight.

jungkook's hair sticks to his forehead as your own does too, both of you sweating by the force of exertion.

but fuck, he's beautiful.

his hand around your neck, with his other now trailing down to play with your clit...

and, god.

that cock.

you just know youre not gonna last long. and you prove that to him when you tighten and clench incredibly hard around him as he toys with you.

a guttural grunt reaches your ears and you can hardly breathe.

"shh, baby, i know." he moans under you, fucking you deliciously. you moan in response and everything burns.

in a good way.

your thighs burn from the position slowly turning uncomfortable, your lower belly tightens with insatiable heat, and when jungkook flicks at your clit one last time (with his hand still around your neck), a scream tears out of your chest at the utter euphoria that takes you above and beyond.

the climax hits you harder then ever before and you're no longer able to withhold the sight of his cock in you as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you arch your back, afraid it might snap. veins pop out of your neck from your moans and you've never been happier.

"fuuuuuck, baby." his thrusts turn lazy as you slump against him with a satisfied smile on your face. he watches you back in the mirror with a heated and hooded gaze before thrusting one last snap into your heat and burrying his face in your neck as he cums with a low drawl. "fuck, you're heaven."

you watch as his cum mixed with yours slushes out of you when you move to get up, only to realize you've made a huge mess on the floor. oops. got some of it on the mirror, as well.

oh, well.

it's not the first time jungkook's had you squirting all over the place.

and he knows this, because when he catches you cringing at the mess, all he does is smirk as he pulls you in for a kiss before swooping you off your feet and into the bathroom.

"come on." he kisses you again. "let's get this pretty baby cleaned up."

-unedited.

-taglist.

@hoseokteardrop @nochuel @kaitieskidmore97 @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring @bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdolls @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotes @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime @allisonstone @hopekive @llallaaa @tarahardcore @hopetookmysoul @betysotelo18 @harmonic55 @ecrvea @awesomebabyyoda @peterstarkchrishiddleston @pinkrockstar19 @sweetestseoul @luv--youu @mochminnie @coletaehyung @whitelies2248-blog @ash07128 @bangtans-momma

@yourbobaeyestell @laylasbunbunny @btsnpniff @olimpiiaa @caro134340lina @ohsweetmimosa @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @t-alyssa2006 @aloverga @sexytholland @skzthinker

[watercolorfreckles]

Of Oak and Sparrow

(Part 2 of The Girl Called Sparrow)

Sparrow returned to the fallen oak tree one final time.

To her, it was a skeleton. A creaking spine wrapped in an armor of bark that, in the end, wasn't strong enough to keep the true monsters at bay.

The sleeping hill was a graveyard beneath the weight of the tree that once crowned it.

Its branches reached toward the sky like bony fingers. The wind whispered through its foliage to pluck down the browning decay. Those same leaves crunched beneath the sole of her boot. She imagined her faerie's hair muting into an earthy brown to match it.

Sparrow traced the scars in the exposed wood. Each mark splitting the stump was an open wound. Its roots and its core were a bleeding heart, severed from the rest of its great height and graceful limbs.

In the tree rings, she saw his fingerprint. Her Kind Oak. The fae who'd held her heart in his hands and treated it with gentleness.

Her tears soaked into the wood's cracks and grooves, fingers tightening around the acorn that promised her a chance at a future.

The encroaching winter drained the life of the forest away. When Sparrow left her home, it felt as a hollow corpse.

She walked until her feet ached and her body swayed with exhaustion. She sank down against the cover of a mossy knoll, eyelids begging for rest. But it would be of poor manner not to acknowledge her hosts.

Sparrow picked three long strands of grass and weaved them into a ring, testing it on her own finger before sliding it off and tucking it into the knot of a tree.

She spoke aloud to any fae that might be near. Listening. Waiting. "I apologize for my intrusion. I am merely passing through, and am most grateful for your hospitality as I take a night's rest. I left you a gift in the hole of that tree. I hope you take no offense to my presence."

Shivering even beneath the thick wool of her cloak, she let her eyelids drop closed as the night swallowed her up.

Sparrow awoke to a pale sun and frost on her lashes. Her breath formed clouds in the morning chill. Scrubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hand slipped into her pocket, seeking the familiar comfort of her Oak's acorn.

Her heart lurched. She checked again. It wasn't there.

Straightening, she scrabbled through the crust of frost coating the ground around her, searching with a despair that made her dizzy. "No- Where--"

"Tell me, I am dreadfully curious, what is so valuable about this acorn?" spoke a voice like crushed velvet.

Sparrow jolted, swiveling around. Her breath caught.

Before her was a fae that glistened like a winter star. His eyes held the glint of cold steel. A knife's edge, harrowing and beautiful all at once. The gently falling snow avoided him in its path.

Pinched between his moon-pale fingers, was her acorn.

Sparrow's heart gave another awful tug.

She reached for it before she could stop herself. The acorn disappeared into the fae's fist as his lips lifted into a flash of pearly teeth. A little too sharp and a little too amused. Something about it reminded her of the maw of a hungry cat.

Sparrow swallowed. She dropped to her knees. "Forgive me. You startled me."

"Such a pretty gift," the faerie murmured. He lifted his other hand, the ring she'd offered up wrapped around his index finger. Surely he was mocking her. It looked terribly simple against the porcelain of his skin. "It is refreshing to meet a human who still knows the old ways. Are you going to answer my question or do I need to repeat myself?"

Sparrow's fingers twisted in her lap. Her blood ran cold. "I need that acorn to resurrect one who is dear to me."

The fae hummed, holding up the acorn again and glancing it over. "This is magik born of the fae wilds."

Her stare tracked his hand as if he were carelessly handling glass. "I have no knowledge of its origin. Only that the tree this acorn fell from was tethered to a fae who could not leave its shadow. The tree was cut down. I need to plant that acorn to give him renewed life."

The fae's smile was that of a predator toying with its prey because it found the creature's helplessness against it adorable. He crouched in front of her, nimbly balanced on the balls of his arched feet.

His head tilted. "Give me your name and I'll return your precious acorn to you."

"That, I cannot give you," Sparrow said softly. "My acorn is no use to me if I am too intoxicated by your sway to plant it."

"What difference does it make?" The fae's cadence was the crackling of a candle flame; the sparks that rain down from a shooting star. "Even if you plant the seed, years will pass before it grows tall enough to harbor your fae in its shadow; a great many years longer than if this were an ordinary acorn. Magik born of the faerie realm behaves as the fae wilds do. Time is of little consequence there. A moment is stretched for decades.

"Humans age in an instant. What will your dear one think of you when time creases your face and steals your youth? What will happen when you fall away to dust and your love is trapped alone in the confines of a shadow?"

It took the taste of metal in her mouth to realize she'd bitten down on her lip. Her insides swam.

Her mother's voice was clear in her head:

Do not make dealings with the fae.

Follow the rules of fae etiquette.

Do not owe anything to the fae. They will always collect.

But if he could magik a better way... If she could see her love again...

Sparrow forced the fear from her voice. Fae hated weakness, her mind screamed. "Will you make a deal with me?"

The faerie's wicked smile split further across his perfect face. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Look at meeee, i posted twice in a little over one week

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[the-likeable-wizard-mack]

Urban Fantasy Drabbles: Angel Roomate

Although you would think having an angel roommate would be pretty nice but, what if they were just like bigger cats. -Coming home from a long day at work and you just want to go to bed. You enter your apartment and it’s pitch black. Except for the ominous glowing light in the darkness this mf has his whole be not afraid stance. “Human, I require sustenance.” “We just went shopping.” “Yes, but…I crave. The golden arches.” “....I’ll have it delivered..” Either way you're pissed but, you got food anyways. Even if you were almost scared half to death. -Or you all are home and you want a snack from the fridge. You open the door and you pick up a piece of leftover sweets or something. And they’re over your shoulder, “You said you were on a diet.” “Yeah, well today is my cheat day.” “So you are cheating on thy thighs? You do not want the strong washboard abs?” “...Alright, I’ll get a banana or something.” “I have stopped you from leading into temptation” . “Yeah, yeah, Maybe next time I should buy APPLES.” “....No.” 

[toast-com]

Soul Blades

Jennings lunged at the shades, her rapier glowing a deep blue as she imbued the weapon with her soul. She swung at the nearest shade with her rapier, slicing it neatly in two. The other shades backed away from her, fearful of Jennings' blade, and the blue glow from her horn. The shades fled, and Jennings gave chase.

[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.”

[bloodyhauntedquartz]

Everyone in the tavern was silent. Otis looked up from his hand, the cards carefully and neatly formed into a fan row. He stared at Katharnie who was still moving her cards about, Otis took that as a sign she was nervous. The dealer asked them to present their hands for the final time to reveal who was the winner of a fine Appaloosa mare and 300k Feathers. The people out of the running were angry their money was still in the game to be won, but Feathers didn’t mean much in currency out of town. The punters held their breath as Otis showed his hand, spreading it out on the bar top. “Three Dark Cicadas and a Violet Rooter Fungus,” The dealer announced, some of the punters cheered, it was a good hand, worth seven in total. Otis continued to look at Katharnie who checked her hand once more, observing quietly her points against her opponents. With a flick of her wrist she snapped the cards down onto the wooden top and the dealer moved them into a row so he could see them better, on seeing the cards she had he gave her a small look. “Two Horn Trumpets and two Forest Barberries,” the dealer said, raising his voice so everyone in the tavern could hear. Otis stood up and slammed his hand down, making a few Feather chips jump off the top. His top lip curled up “She cheated, she cheated. I fucking won, do you understand me. How could someone like her get Barberry cards, she slipped them in. No one beats me, you should know that.” Katharnie ignored his anger and bent to pick the coins up, she smiled, and her ears twitched. In her mind she saw Otis as being jealous, she’s a younger generation so she has the new luck. Now she has to take on the task of pursuing The Succubi of The Beast, and its something her father trained her to do. She knew she was up for the job.