#fives is magical and a charmer

[newtabfics]

Title: Puppy

Summary: Tieflings have heats, or maybe Rolan just has a really low resistance to a certain adventurer that has plagued his mind since they've met. So when the city celebrates victory over the Mind Flayers, Rolan joins her for a drink.

Heads up: Bottom!Rolan, "Puppy", Breeding kink, Oral (MR), Cowgirl, Creampie, PWP

The request that helped inspire this: Can I get a Rolan x sorcerer tiefling reader please? Wizard x sorcerer is a funny pairing since they have so much beef with one another and man do I love tieflings, they can hold tails❤🥺 But anyway it can be either nsfw or not...or both 👀 no complaints about that.

The roar of the tavern rumbled around him as he sipped his ale. He smirked as he watched the twins dancing with the warlock. They were teasing the poor man until he was practically dizzy.

"Seems they like torturing Wyll," A new voice purred behind him. Glancing over, he almost sneered out of reflex. Tav smiled at him. "Mind if I join ya, Puppy?"

"Sure," He said after a moment's hesitation. The nickname again. He was unsure what it was but every time she teased him with that nickname, it sent a jolt through him.

His tail flicked as hers twitched. He couldn't help but admire her form, frowning as he saw the bandages on her. "You look like a wrapped corpse," He muttered.

"Charmer," She snorted. Her smile made his chest warm as he eyed her. "You doing alright?"

"Yes. Just…prefer a bit of quiet drinking myself."

"Is that your way of saying to fuck off?" 

Rolan's heart sank as he realized the implications of his words and quickly declined the thought. "I mean…Ah…" He cleared his throat.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the twins grinning beside Wyll. The three were watching him. Even Wyll joined in giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

Tav's laugh filled his ears. "Relax. I'm only jesting, Rolan. Wanna drink on the balcony?" She offered.

His shoulders untensed as he smiled softly. "I'll get us another round then. Go on ahead?"

She nodded as she turned. His eyes trailed down her body as he watched her walk away. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her tail. It was raised and twitching, practically inviting him in.

Rolan gulped thickly as his face turned hot. He ordered the next round and prepared himself to meet her out on the balcony.

Tav took a steadying breath as she leaned against the railing. The ruined city was laid out before her. In the river, she could vaguely see lights. Likely scavengers attempting to salvage what they could from the remains of the Elder Brain and the bodies of Mind Flayers being thrown in carelessly.

A part of her wondered if those that were turned were ever saved. She barely remembered the truth from Withers as the wizard appeared at her side with a frothing glass of ale.

"Thank you," She chuckled.

Rolan nodded to her politely as he stood with her. Silence filled the air as he studied the area with her. He smiled softly. "Maybe…sorcerors aren't all bad."

"Oh?" She snickered. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, you managed this, didn't you?" He gestured to the city around him. "Saved it. Not bad for someone who can barely hold a flaming sneeze."

"It was one time!" She groaned, blushing as she laughed.

It was when they'd first met. Dirt had shifted from the cave ceiling and landed on her nose while talking to him. Rolan went to help dust away the debris, feeling pity for her, until she sneezed and flames came pouring out, burning his robe.

"You apologized about…a hundred times?"

"More like five hundred," She corrected as he grinned at her. Tav smiled as she felt his tail brush against hers as she moved closer. "You never did forgive me."

Rolan blinked. "I didn't?" He asked, heart jumping.

His tail twitched against hers. Slowly, they intertwined until they were wrapped around one another intimately. Her shoulder pressed against his as they stood closer.

"Yeah. You called me…ah, what was it?" Tav hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. "A hellspawn of blackened magic?"

Rolan groaned, laughing at himself in embarrassment. "It was rather…harsh," He confessed.

"Harsh?" She laughed. "It was the cutest thing ever said!"

He groaned as the woman teased and laughed, tightening her tail around his. He looked at her when he felt the weight of her head on his shoulder. A warmth spread through him as he took in her scent.

A smirk played over his lips. "You thought that was cute?" He leaned closer to her, eyes flicking to her lips. "I was trying to insult you."

"Keyword being trying," she chuckled, meeting his gaze.

She smiled nervously as she studied him. His eyes turned almost a molten gold as he watched her. A shiver ran up her spine when his tail rubbed and nervously squeezed hers.

Her heart jumped as she realized they both leaned in. "Rolan."

He gulped thickly at her breathy voice. "Yes?" On the railing, his fingers threaded with hers as their mugs of ale were forgotten.

"I…" 

Her words were lost as they stared at one another. Like a unified mind, their lips connected. The kiss was gentle and careful. 

His mind felt like a magic buzz as their tails tightened and lips locked. The taste of ale on her lips was enough to make him move closer.

Before he was fully aware of his actions, he had her against the balcony railing, kissing her deeply and cradling her face.

Her breath quickened as his scent filled her nose. His musk made her head spin with desire. Tav wrapped her arms tightly around him as they kissed, their bodies pressing against each other. 

She felt the heat from him radiate through her as they held each other in the darkness. His tail snaked its way around hers as his hands gripped her suddenly.

The kiss intensified until she was writhing against him. Finally, she broke the kiss and whispered, "We need a room. Now."

Rolan nodded eagerly. "Y-Yes. Yeah." His eyes darted everywhere, trying to think of the quickest route.

There was a blur of passing people, laughter, and drinks before he finally found himself pushed against the door of the room she was renting at the inn. His hands scrambled to touch her, gripping her rear as he pulled her up his body for a deep kiss.

His mind grew hazy as his tail twitched. He grunted and pressed himself against her. She could feel his hardness against her stomach through the robes and layers of clothing.

"Use your words, Rolan," She ordered, nipping and biting at his neck. "What d'ya want, Wizard?"

"You," He breathed against her horns. His lips brushed and scraped gently as he pressed against her again.

She watched his tongue dart over his lips before cupping his face and pulling him close. Her tongue licked gently at his. She swallowed his moan as his hands tightened on her hips.

Tav hummed and gripped his horn gently. His vision blurred as the drink made it hard to steady himself. She had moved so quickly. He blamed that she was likely using a spell to overpower him as she pinned him onto her bed.

She straddled his waist and tore off her shirt. His eyes widened as he took her in.

She was covered in scars from battles long past and bruises from her recent. She was still wrapped up in bandages. His hands hesitated as he made to touch her.

What if I hurt her? He wondered briefly as he traced the curve of her body with his eyes.

"If it's not attractive…"

His eyes widened. She was scared. Her body trembled as he hesitated and he let out a breath that sounded like the word "Beautiful."

Tav's cheeks heated when his lips found the scar over her chest. A slash from a goblin when they'd first met. She was lucky to survive. His tongue over the long mark made her shiver against him.

"Scared I'll hurt you," He admitted, kissing up her collar.

She smirked and nipped his ear gently. Her fingers gripped at the tie in his hair and pulled it out. "Trust me. You can't hurt me," She muttered, rolling her hips to grind down on his hardening cock.

Her eyes were focused on him as she toyed with him. She studied the way he whimpered and breathed shakily against her neck. His hands kept flinching and grabbing. Unsure.

"Rolan," She whispered. "Do you need me to take control?"

"Fuck, please," He begged. "Please, Tav. I…"

His face felt hot as she cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs rubbed soothingly as he trembled. He was unsure of how to voice his inexperience but he knew he wanted this. He had been wanting it since he met her.

"Fuck. Too hot," He muttered, sitting up. With her help, his robes were tossed away and she tore off his shirt. 

Her chest pressed against his as she kissed him. He whined as he gripped her waist.

Tav nuzzled him. "Let me take care of you, Puppy," She teased gently.

He shuddered as his cock twitched in his pants. He bit his lip when she kissed down his body. With wide eyes, he watched Tav's tongue dart out to his stomach.

She hummed at the taste of him, watching the way he panted and shuddered. Her sharp teeth gently pressed against his hip as she tugged his pants down. Her fiery eyes found his as she pulled slowly.

His heart hammered at the slow drag as he was finally stripped down. His cock ached as she eyed him hungrily. She groaned at the ridges along his length and licked slowly from his base to tip. Her eyes locked onto his as she shuddered and settled between his thighs.

Tav smirked as her tail flicked behind her as she continued to lick and tease the wizard's cock carefully. She studied his reactions, pressing and stroking her tongue carefully. Finally, she caved and took him into his mouth.

The taste of his salty tip against her tongue had her moaning softly around him. She loved the weight of him on her tongue. She relished in it even. 

"So thick," She murmured as she pulled back so only the tip was in her mouth. "Rolan, you taste so good."

He whined and whimpered as he watched her bob her head slowly along him. He whimpered and shuddered. "Fu…Never thought…this would ever happen. Gods," He whispered.

Tav's tail twitched as her hand gripped at the tip of his tail. Her eyes widened when he bucked his hips up, slipping quickly into her throat.

At her choke, he pulled back, apologizing until her nails dug into his hips. With a dark look in her eyes, she sucked him down.

His mouth hung open when her lips suctioned around his base, tongue rubbing along his ribbed shaft. He let out a breath and whimpered as his back arched up.

Her tail began to slide along his again, rubbing and teasing gently as she held his hips in place. His eyes darted to watch her pull back just enough to allow him to move. At her twitching hands, he bit his lip as he gripped her horns.

Tav gave him an encouraging hum and he began to thrust slowly. Her eyes watched as the wizard shuddered and thrust into her mouth. He was near babbling as he began to grow more intense.

She rubbed his thighs, encouraging him as she let her mouth hang open. She could feel his tip bumping against the back of her throat as he gripped her horns harder.

He blinked as he heard her moan and looked down. Sure enough, her hand had slid down the front of her trousers. He moaned as he watched her touching herself with his cock in her throat.

"Mmffuck," He stuttered, twitching in her mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tav grunted when he shoved himself fully into her throat. She felt him pulsing and pumping his load into her throat. She choked and coughed a bit, blushing when she felt it leaking from her lips.

"Oh gods," He whispered at the sight as she pulled back slowly. "I'm so–"

He froze as her fingertips pressed to her lips. She gulped twice before licking her lips clean with a pant. With a lovely twist of her lips, she stood and stripped down. His eyes fell over her frame again and he bit his lips.

"I'm dreaming," He finally breathed as he looked at the ceiling.

That had to be it. She was an illusion of his mind. He was delirious from the alcohol. He was moaning her name as she rubbed her folds along his length.

"Not dreaming. Rolan, I'm gonna fuck you until you're howling like the adorable puppy you are," Tav groaned as she slid her tail around his.

The gesture was intimate and made Rolan whimper softly. He still couldn't help but think he was dreaming. A dream he never wanted to wake from as Tav slid down his cock.

Their moans melded together, tails tightening around one another carefully. Tav's claws dug into his chest as she rocked her hips quickly. It was like she was manic and desperate to feel him.

Rolan's mouth opened in a pitiful moan as she kissed his neck and licked his ear. "Tav!" He grunted, biting his lip as he gripped her waist.

"Go on, Sweetie," She moaned. "Touch me where you like. It's okay."

With her permission, he began to let his hands wander. His thumbs grazed over the ridges on her ribs. Her body rolled under his hands, dragging herself along his length.

"Gods above," He whined. "I–Fuck…"

"That's a good boy," She moaned, tail tightening around his as her clawed hands gripped his hair. She was thrusting herself harder now, making him choke and moan. "Like that? Like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, oh fuck yes!" He sobbed, hands tightening around her waist. He bit his lip and dove his head down.

Tav moaned softly as he bit her shoulder and neck as his hips pulsed upward. "That's it, puppy," She whined. "Just feel good f'me. Just want you to come in me already. Fill me with your cute pups."

Rolan's brain shut off with those words as he gripped her hips tight. His hips jutted up into her as he growled and moaned.

Vaguely, he felt something in the back of his mind screaming at him to pull her off him. But as she slammed down with finality, he was lost.

Her sweet moan of his name, hips rocking still, sent him over the edge. His claws dug into her ass as he pumped up into her, panting and whining.

"Fuck, Tav," He whispered before she fluttered his neck and jaw with kisses. His eyes fluttered as he panted and held her to him.

Tav kissed his ear. "Mine," She whimpered.

A small smile spread over his lips. "Yours…all yours."

He settled slowly, shaking still as she adjusted. Tav smirked down at him and he blinked. "What–Ah~" He moaned as she rocked her hips.

"Rolan," She hummed softly. "You're still hard. Makes me wanna see what you look like when you're too lost. Too into it. Too desperate for me."

The wizard bit his lip as he watched her and nodded. "Please. Please keep riding me."

"Make me."

[wholoveseggs]

Crimson Frost {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

You are to be wed to Niklaus of the Mikaelson clan, but when tragedy strikes and blood is shed in the snowy night, the true strength of family bonds and the power of love are put to the ultimate test.

♡♡ I'm back with another series, one I've wanted to write for a long time. This series explores the lives of the Mikaelsons as ordinary individuals in the Viking era, told from the reader's perspective but also Niklaus's. ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... no smut in this part, {Spoiler: it will be eventually reader x Elijah}

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

"Gerda! Come help me with these flowers," you yelled from the back garden. You were gathering the best wildflowers you could find to make a wreath to wear for the feast that evening. It was still winter, but it had been mild for almost a whole moon, bringing the wildflowers early.

"Coming systir!" she replied. Gerda came out into the garden a few moments later, carrying a basket full of wildflowers and a smile on her face. "These will look so lovely in your hair tonight," she said holding up a bunch of lavender. "I'm sure Niklaus will be so happy to see you."

You blushed slightly at her words. Niklaus.

Your mother had told you that the feast tonight was to announce your marriage to the young Mikaelson. Your family was thrilled, having you marry one of the sons of the Karl increased your family's standing among the clan. However, you were still nervous. You had grown up with Niklaus, he was kind and had a sweet smile, but he was also quite wild and battle hungry. He had just returned from his first raiding voyage to the coast of the English lands, and the stories of his bravery were spreading.

“I'm sure he will, but he is not my betrothed yet," you said as you put some more flowers in your basket.

"That does not mean that he will not be soon, and you will have to kiss him eventually," Gerda replied.

"Gerda!" You threw a bunch of flowers at her. "Do not be so improper."

"Sorry systir," Gerda said laughing. "It's just exciting, you are getting married to a Mikaelson!"

"Let us hope that the gods smile on our union," you said, picking up your basket of flowers.

Gerda had only seen eleven summers yet she was eager to grow up, while you were less than eager. Your betrothal had been a long time coming and it was a good match for your family, but you didn't have the same excitement as your sister. You felt unprepared to be a wife.

You saw Niklaus coming over with his little brother Henrik and a small smile crossed your face.

You looked up at Niklaus. "Hello, Niklaus."

"My dear," Niklaus greeted, bowing his head. "You look beautiful as ever."

"Thank you," you replied.

Henrik stood beside his brother. "Nik, you promised we could spar today!"

"Henrik, patience," Niklaus said, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "How about you go with Gerda, she can watch while you practice."

"Come on Gerda, let's go," Henrik said excitedly, taking her hand and pulling her over to the field.

"Your brother seems enthusiastic," you remarked.

"It's what he was born to do," Niklaus said, watching his brother and your sister run off.

"They would make a good match, your Gerda and my Henrik," he suggested.

"Oh yes, Gerda is very fond of Henrik," you agreed. "But they are both so young, it's a bit too early to make a decision such as that."

"Of course, I would not wish to rush them," Niklaus said. "Besides, you are the one I'm here for today."

You looked away, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. He was a true charmer and had seen many battles even at his young age, the ladies in the village loved him and were always fighting over his attention. But the truth was you didn't feel anything when you looked at him. There was no spark or tingle of love the way it was described in the fables, just a friendship that you wished would turn into something more.

But it was an honor for your family, to be marrying into such a noble household. And it wasn't like he was ugly, or cruel. He was a good man and would no doubt make a fine husband.

"I think it will be an early spring, with all of these flowers in bloom," Niklaus said, reaching down and picking a blue wildflower and handing it to you.

"I do too," you replied, smiling and putting the flower in your hair.

"Nik, I thought you were sparring with me!" Henrik yelled, trying to gain the attention of his older brother

"Very well!" He responded, giving you a wink before running after his little brother, he picked up Gerda and gave her a spin, making her laugh.

You laughed at the sight and watched the three of them. Niklaus, Henrik, and Gerda. Playing around and having fun, but soon the time would come for them to grow up, and you feared what that would bring.

The sound of laughter and music filled the longhouse, you were sitting on a bench between your mother and father, enjoying the feast.

Henrik and Gerda were dancing and playing near the fire, laughing and smiling. They had been inseparable all day, both excited about the wedding to come.

Your eyes found Niklaus, sitting on the other side of the longhouse, chatting with his older brothers, Finn and Elijah.

Your engagement was to be announced tonight, in front of the whole clan, but you had already heard the news. You were going to be Niklaus' wife, and the next lady of the Mikaelson clan.

But you would be lying if you said that the thought didn't fill you with dread. You didn't feel ready to be a wife.

You saw beautiful Rebekah, Niklaus's sister, dancing with her friends. Her long blonde hair in a thick braid with ribbons and flowers. She was laughing and having a good time, while you sat alone and tried to hide how nervous you were.

She came over and took your hand. "Come dance,”

You smiled and joined her, spinning and twirling around.

"I've heard the news, congratulations," she said. "My brother is a very lucky man."

"Thank you," you replied.

Rebekah pulled you in close. "Soon you will be with child and I'll have a little niece or nephew to dote on," she said, her hand moving down to touch your belly.

You laughed, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, that is my hope."

"Well, the sooner the better," Rebekah replied. "Nik is getting antsy."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There has been word that the Blackthorne clan has been moving in this direction," she said. "Nik's been preparing for a battle, he says he will not let them pass our borders."

"I see," you replied. The Blackthorne clan were known to be ruthless and merciless. Their leader, a man named Einar, was notorious for his brutal raids and pillaging. It had been said that he once slaughtered an entire village just because they refused to give him one of their daughters.

"My father doesn't think they will make a move, but Niklaus is worried," Rebekah said. She gave you a searching look, "He lusts for war and glory."

You frowned, looking at her. "What if he's right? What if they attack? What will happen to us?"

"Don't worry sweet girl, you are apart of my family now, and the Mikaelsons will protect you," Rebekah promised.

As the night went on you feasted and danced with the people of the village. There was food and drink for everyone, and the mood was jovial.

You saw your father sitting next to Mikael, they were deep in conversation and your father was nodding along with whatever the elder Mikaelson was saying.

Mikael suddenly stood, raising his mug and the room fell silent.

"Tonight, we celebrate the engagement of my son Niklaus to the daughter of Erik," Mikael announced, looking over at the two of you.

"To a bright future, may they have many sons to lead us into battle and may their union bring great fortune to both families."

The clan erupted into cheers, banging on the table and lifting their mugs.

"A toast, to Niklaus and his bride!" Mikael called.

Everyone raised their mugs, cheering for the couple. Niklaus approached you and wrapped his arms around you. “It seems the gods have finally smiled upon us," he whispered.

You nodded and smiled at him, trying not to let him see the uncertainty in your eyes. He kissed your cheek and danced with you, the feast continuing on.

As the night wore on, you sat by yourself, watching the dancing and laughter. Rebekah and her friends were talking, Henrik and Gerda were still spinning around, and Niklaus was deep in conversation with Elijah.

Your parents had left, they were a bit older and didn't stay up late like the others. You wanted to leave as well, but Gerda was having so much fun, you didn't want to cut her night short.

Kol came over, sitting down beside you. "You should be out there having fun, not sulking here all alone."

"I'm not sulking," you replied.

"Yes you are," Kol said, grabbing a piece of bread from the table and stuffing it in his mouth. The two of you had grown up together, and he always knew when something was wrong.

"Well, the whole marriage thing has been weighing heavily on my mind," you confessed.

"Oh, come on, Nik's a fine warrior," Kol remarked. "My brother has always been taken with you, he will make a good husband... I think," he teased.

You laughed a bit, pushing him gently. "I know, I know, but I just wish to wait a bit longer. It seems like this has all happened so quickly."

Kol put his arm around you. "You will come to love him, and even if you don't, I am sure the bedding will be enjoyable."

"Kol, stop it!" You giggled, shoving him away.

He grinned and took another piece of bread, "You go home and rest, I'll watch Gerda."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Positive," he said. "You are both family now, I will protect her as if she were my own blood."

"Thank you, Kol," you replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I will see you tomorrow."

You made your way out of the longhouse and back towards your home, the cold night air filling your lungs, you breathed out a plume of heat into the chilly air, perhaps winter was not quite done yet. As you walked you thought about Niklaus, he had been so kind and thoughtful lately, he was a good man, you had no reason not to marry him.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of rustling in the bushes, you paused and listened. It was probably just a fox or some other woodland creature, but something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, you were knocked to the ground, a man pinning you down.

"Don't scream," he hissed.

You struggled beneath him, trying to push him off. He smelled of mead and sweat, his face was covered in dirt, his teeth rotted and bloody.

He pressed a blade to your throat, you stopped moving and let out a gasp.

"Do not fight, and I won't hurt you," the man growled.

He had black hair and was wearing a thick fur cloak, his body pressed against yours as he held you down. He pulled at your dress, ripping the fabric and exposing your skin.

"No!" You cried, struggling against him.

He moved his hand up and grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your jaw.

"You are a pretty one, will fetch a good price," he said, running his hand down your body and touching you roughly.

You heard the sound of a horn blowing, signaling a raid. Panic coursed through you.

The Blackthornes had come.

The man was distracted momentarily by the sound and you took the opportunity to grab a rock and smash it against his head. He grunted and fell back, letting you go. You scrambled away and stood up, running to your home.

You heard the shouts of the villagers as they prepared for battle, the sounds of swords clashing and people dying.

As you ran, you saw a group of warriors, led by Einar Blackthorne, storming through the village, killing and setting everything on fire. By the time you got to your house, it was in flames.

Your parents were nowhere to be seen and your heart dropped. You picked up the wood axe sitting on a stump and broke down the door, the heat and smoke burning your lungs.

"Faðir!" You shouted, coughing and looking around. "Móðir!"

"Y/N," a voice called. You saw your mother, kneeling on the floor and holding her hands over her chest.

"Móðir!" You cried, rushing over to her. "What happened, are you alright?"

"Dóttir," she said, reaching out to you, her breathing was labored and her hands were covered in blood.

Your father lay next to her, a wound in his stomach and a pool of blood surrounding him.

"Faðir," you gasped, looking at his lifeless body.

"Gerda," your mother croaked, clutching at your dress. "Go get Gerda,"

"I will," you assured her. "But first I must get you out of here."

You tried to help her stand, but her breathing became ragged and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Móðir?" You said, shaking her.

She didn't respond and her head slumped forward, her body limp in your arms.

"Móðir!" You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The smoke grew thicker, and the fire was getting closer. The wood beams above cracking and falling.

You laid her down gently, the smoke stinging your eyes, the heat of the flames singeing your hair and burning your skin.

You stumbled through the flames, making your way out of the house, you coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe in the clean air. Your village was engulfed in chaos and flames, you could see the invaders killing and stealing, their cries echoing through the night.

"Gerda," you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

A figure appeared in the darkness, a man wielding a sword, his body covered in blood and his face masked by the smoke. He was wearing the Blackthorne colors of gray and red. You raised your axe and struck him down, the blade slicing through his neck. Rage and adrenaline coursed through you, the fury of Tyr fueling you as you continued on, searching for Gerda.

Your family, your clan, your home had been destroyed. Everything you loved was burning, but you were determined to find your baby sister.

Your ran back to the longhouse, it was in flames, the heat radiating off of the building.

"Gerda!" You screamed out for her, trying to find her in the chaos.

You could hear the sound of fighting and screams, the smell of burning wood and blood filled the air.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the smoke, the same one who tried to rape you earlier, you raised your axe again, ready to strike.

But the man grabbed the blade, stopping the swing mid-air and pulling it from your grasp. He smirked and grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground. You looked up at the longhouse, the place where you had spent so many nights with the Mikaelson family, the place where Gerda and Henrik were.

"You will make a good prize," he growled, running his hands over your body.

"No!" You screamed, thrashing around and he laughed and pinned you down, his hands tearing at your dress.

You could hear the cries of the villagers as they fought for their lives, the screams of the children and the clash of steel.

A hand grabbed the back of your attacker's neck and he was ripped away from you, you gasped, scrambling back. You watched the men fight viciously, exchanging blows.

Your savior was wearing the Mikaelson colors of green and blue, and you realized it was Niklaus.

You stood and grabbed your axe, raising it and attacking other raiders as they tried to approach, giving Niklaus the advantage.

"Y/n! systir!" You heard the sound of your name being called and you looked up, seeing Gerda and Henrik being hauled off by the raiders.

"Gerda!" You shouted, running after them.

You couldn't reach them, another raider jumped in front of you, swinging his sword. You ducked and avoided his blow, swinging your axe and catching him in the side.

He fell to the ground and you kept running, chasing after the raiders and your sister. You ran as fast as you could, dodging the raiders who were trying to stop you. But it was no use, they caught you and dragged you back.

Snow was starting to fall, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin. Two raiders had you by the arms, dragging you along the cold ground, you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw Valhalla. They threw you onto the back of a horse, the cold metal of a knife pressed to your throat.

"Don't struggle or we'll throw you into the fire," the man behind you growled.

You kicked him hard, and he struck you across the face, but you didn't care. Your family was dead, your home was gone, and Gerda was being taken away.

Suddenly, the men on the horse yelled, and the knife was pulled from your throat. You looked up to see a figure in armor, holding a Mikaelson shield in one hand and a sword in the other.

He struck down the Raiders, their bodies falling to the ground. You were disoriented from the blow, unable to see who had come to your rescue.

The figure grabbed the reins of the horse, and the beast whinnied, bucking wildly. He pulled you against him, the metal of his armor cold against your skin.

"Shhhh," he whispered, trying to calm the horse.

You recognized the voice, it was Elijah, Niklaus’ elder brother.

"We have to get out of here, can you ride?" He asked.

You nodded and he handed you the reins. You could see the bodies of the raiders scattered around, and the sounds of the battle were beginning to fade. Snow and ash fell from the sky, and the scent of death hung in the air.

"Come on," Elijah said, pulling himself up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around you, taking the reins back. "I will take you somewhere safe," he promised.

"What about your family? They took Gerda and Henrik," you asked, tears stinging your eyes.

The horse took off, galloping through the woods and away from the destruction. You looked back, seeing the flames and smoke rising into the night sky, and you wondered if Gerda was still alive.

"I saw Niklaus going after them, we have to hope he can save them," Elijah replied.

You held onto the horse tightly, the wind and sleet whipping against your face. The snow falling heavier now, the trees bare and the branches covered in a layer of ice.

Elijah's voice cut through the cold, "I know a place we can shelter from this storm,"

The wind howled and the snow fell heavily, obscuring your vision. You could barely see a thing, but you trusted Elijah.

You didn't know how long you'd been riding, but eventually, Elijah stopped the horse and helped you down.

He brushed away some snow to reveal a small cabin built into a overhang of rock. He tied the horse to a post under the eaves of the structure and opened the door, motioning for you to enter.

"It's not much, but it will keep us warm," he said.

The cabin was made of logs and stones, and there was a fireplace in the center. You shivered, your body numb from the cold.

Elijah started a fire with some wood that was already stacked inside the cabin, and soon the room was filled with warmth and light.

You sat on a bench, the flames from the fireplace flickering, casting shadows on the walls. Elijah sat beside you, and you could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.

"What of the rest of your family? Your parents? Rebekah? Kol? Finn?" You asked.

Elijah let out a sigh, "my parents and Finn were killed, I lost Kol and Rebekah, I don't know where they are or if they're even alive,"

He turned to look at you, his dark eyes full of sadness. "What about your parents?"

You looked away, a lump forming in your throat. "Dead as well."

You tried to stop the tears, to be strong, but the thought of your mother and father, and all those people, gone, was too much to bear. You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, the grief washing over you like a tidal wave.

Elijah placed his cloak around you and got up to stoke the fire. He added more wood, and the flames crackled and popped.

He sat back down and you moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. You were both tired and hurt, and you knew that this might be the last night you ever spent alive. You were both silent for a moment, the weight of the night's events heavy on your minds.

"I am sorry about your family," Elijah whispered.

"As I am sorry about yours," you replied, looking up at him.

This was the first time you ever really spoke to him, as children you were always running around with Kol and Rebekah. Elijah was the stern older brother, the one who was always scolding you for being reckless. But now, he seemed so different.

He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

"We will find them, and send every single one of those Blackthornes straight to Hel,"

Niklaus was smiling as he feasted and celebrated his engagement. The scent of meat and ale mingled with the smell of pine and fire, the flickering candles casting a warm glow on the room.

He sat with his brother, Elijah, watching as the members of the clan drank and danced. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, Niklaus loved a good party, especially one that was about him.

"Isn't she a beauty, brother?" He remarked, watching you from across the table.

"She will be a fine wife for you," Elijah replied, sipping his mead.

"Do you think she will let me bed her before the wedding? I do wish to know what pleasures await me," he grinned.

"Niklaus," Elijah sighed, "You cannot speak of your betrothed in such a manner, have some respect."

"Relax brother, it is just the two of us," he shrugged.

"Still, a woman's virtue is not a subject to be jested about,"

"Oh come on, 'Lijah, I'm only joking. Even the gods would agree that the wedding cannot come soon enough." He said, taking a sip of his mead.

The men were sitting around the table, feasting and drinking. Niklaus watched his little brother Henrik playing with Gerda, they were dancing and spinning in circles.

"I'm surprised Kol is not joining in on the festivities," Niklaus said, nodding to where Kol was sitting alone at the end of the table.

"He's been moody lately," Elijah remarked. "His courting of the Blackthorne girl did not go well, he returned with an arrow in his thigh."

"He was lucky to come back at all," Niklaus muttered. "Father won't listen to reason when it comes to the Blackthornes."

"What would you have him do Niklaus? Wage a war we cannot win?" Elijah replied, his eyes flickering over to where you were talking to some of the women.

"This is how I see it. We either bring the fight to the Blackthornes or wait for them to bring the fight to us," Niklaus stated.

"You two talk of politics like wise old men," Finn piped up. "But you're nothing more than fools, unprepared for battle. The Blackthornes are a mighty clan, and if we were to attack, we would lose everything we've built here."

"When have you seen battle Finn? When you put your trousers on in the morning? Or when you wipe your ass?" Niklaus laughed, grinning at Finn maliciously.

Finn rolled his eyes and ignored the insult, "This is a peaceful village. The only bloodshed we've seen is at the hands of wolves and bears. Father is right to avoid conflict."

"I stopped listening after you said 'father is right', that means nothing to me," Niklaus remarked, downing his drink.

"Well, then I shall take my leave and continue this conversation with someone who actually has the capacity to understand it," Finn huffed, getting up from his seat.

Elijah shook his head, "He does have a point Niklaus. War is not something we can take lightly, the consequences could be dire."

Niklaus watched as Finn went over to you and offered his hand, no doubt asking you for a dance. He watched as you politely rejected Finn. He smiled to himself, you really were the perfect wife.

"We can't avoid the Blackthornes forever. Eventually, we will have to make a move," Niklaus stated.

"Not today, Niklaus, not tonight. Tonight is a night of celebration," Elijah said. "You cannot lust after war on the night of your engagement."

"Fine," Niklaus sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow,"

"Very well," Elijah agreed.

"I'll hold you to that," Niklaus said, downing the rest of his mead, he watched as you danced with Rebekah, he loved the way you smiled and laughed.

He felt a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that soon, you would be his wife. He looked to his father, who raised his mug and toasted to the union, a gesture that surprised Niklaus, but also put him at ease.

The music began to play, and the men started dancing with their wives. He came over to you, and told you how the gods were smiling down at your union. You looked so beautiful, and he could barely take his eyes off of you.

He danced with you for a while, before Elijah approached and asked for a private word. The brothers found a quiet corner, away from the crowds and music.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I've gotten word from a scout that the Blackthornes are near. Their numbers are great, and they are preparing to attack," Elijah informed him.

"When will they be here?" Niklaus asked, his mind already racing with possible scenarios and outcomes.

"On the morrow, if the scouts are correct," Elijah replied, his voice tense.

"Then we must prepare. I'll rally the men, and we'll set a trap. We'll lead the Blackthornes into the woods, and ambush them," Niklaus said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Father has it well in hand, enjoy the celebrations Niklaus," Elijah said. "And be careful not to drink too much, I will need your help in the morning."

Niklaus nodded, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over to where you were sitting, chatting and laughing with Kol. You were so happy and carefree, and he wanted to protect that, even if it meant risking his life.

Niklaus spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing, trying to push aside his worries. You left not long after, and he went to follow, but Kol stopped him, "Let her be Niklaus. She's tired, and I'm sure she has a lot on her mind."

He begrudgingly agreed and stayed, dancing with Henrik on his shoulders as Gerda did on Kol's. It was late, and he could feel the effects of the mead and ale taking hold.

"Off to bed now little Henrik. I'll walk you home sweet Gerda," Kol said softly, setting her down and kissing her cheek.

Suddenly the sound of a horn rang through the night air, and they froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"To arms!" Mikael shouted, his voice echoing through the longhouse.

The room erupted into chaos, the men rushing to grab their weapons and armor. Niklaus laughed, rushing to grab his sword, "So much for a peaceful night!"

He grabbed his shield and rushed outside, joining the fray of battle.

The smell of blood and sweat filled his nostrils as he swung his sword, cutting down raider after raider. Glory and honor filled his heart as he fought, but the thought of you was never far from his mind.

He had promised you that he would keep you safe, and he intended to keep that promise. Your father was old and you had no brothers to defend you, tonight it was his duty. He headed towards your home, but stopped at the sound of his sister screaming, he turned to see Finn swinging wildly at Einar Blackthorne.

His eldest brother was standing in front of Rebekah, she was holding a sword with shaking hands.

"Finn, don't!" Rebekah pleaded, watching him try to fight Einar, but it was an uneven match, Einar struck Finn across the torso with his axe and he crumpled to the ground.

Rebekah fell to her knees at his side, "No! Finn, no!" She cried, clutching to his body.

Einar grabbed Rebekah by the hair and dragged her away.

Niklaus roared and chased after them, but was cut off by a group of raiders, and he slashed and hacked his way through them, searching for where his sister had been taken in the chaos.

Kol was fighting nearby, the young warrior was up against a beast of a man, he stabbed Kol in the arm and he collapsed to the ground.

He heard the sounds of Kol's screams, the boy was fighting for his life. The sight of Kol, bloody and beaten, snapped something inside Niklaus.

He ran towards the man who had stabbed his brother, his eyes full of rage and fury. The man was large and strong, but Niklaus was faster, he plunged his sword into the man's chest and twisted, watching as the life drained from his eyes.

Niklaus could almost hear the drum beats of war, as though the gates of Valhalla had opened, and his ancestors were cheering him on.

The scent of blood and death was thick in the air, and the sounds of clashing metal and screams filled the night. The ground was covered in the bodies of the dead and wounded, and the snow was stained crimson.

He pulled Kol to his feet, and saw Elijah fighting off a group of raiders, his movements a blur as he sliced and cut.

"I can't find Rebekah, they've taken her!" Niklaus cried out.

"We will find her, brother. I promise," Elijah replied, his gaze fierce and determined.

Niklaus could see the fires from the longhouse, the smoke rising into the sky. His family's home was burning, and the village was being pillaged and raided.

Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, his hands on their shoulders, "our father and mother have been stuck down, I could not save them,"

"Finn?" Kol asked, his eyes darting around, looking for the eldest brother.

"Gone," Niklaus replied.

The three brothers looked at each other, the weight of their losses settling over them. Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, their foreheads touching.

"I will find Rebekah, I promise. Niklaus, find Y/N, get her to safety," Elijah instructed.

"But brother-" Niklaus began.

"Now!" Elijah roared.

Niklaus and Kol exchanged a glance and nodded, and Elijah took off in one direction.

Niklaus and Kol began to search the village, but all they found were the bodies of their people, dead and dying.

The sound of your screams caught Niklaus' attention, and he rushed towards the noise, Kol close behind.

They found you, being held by a raider, he was ripping at your clothes, and you were fighting him with all your might.

Kol saw Rebekah being loaded onto a cart and he rushed after it.

Niklaus' vision turned red, and he charged at the raider, pulling him off of you and tackling him to the ground. His blood was boiling, and he couldn't stop his rage.

He slammed his fist into the raider's face, again and again. The sound of bones crunching and the taste of blood filled his senses. He attacked him like a rabid beast and he watched you get to your feet and lunge at another raider, cutting him down with just a wood axe. He smiled and laughed at the sight, the goddess Freja possessed you, beautiful and deadly.

He heard the sounds of Gerda's screams and watched you chase after her. He went to follow but was knocked over by a blow to the head.

He rolled over, the world spinning around him. He tried to stand, but he stumbled and his vision blurred. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and silence fell.

He saw you being dragged away, kicking and screaming. He saw Kol, fighting a few paces away, his movements becoming slower and sloppier as his wounds took their toll. But he had saved Rebekah, she was helping him stay upright, the two of them fighting back to back.

He saw a raider raise his axe to strike Kol, and he saw Rebekah push him out of the way. Blood burst from her face as the blade made contact. She fell to the ground, clutching her head.

It was as if Thor himself had struck him with lightning, he forced himself to stand, roaring with pure rage. He grabbed a spear from the ground. He hurled it, watching as it impaled the raider, a look of surprise and pain on his face as he fell to the ground, dead.

Niklaus rushed towards his siblings, grabbing them and dragging them to their feet.

"Go!" He shouted, picking up Rebekah and dragging her towards the tree line, Kol close behind.

He looked back, trying to see you, but you were gone.

They stumbled into the woods, the sounds of the raid fading into the distance.

"Where's Elijah? Henrik, Gerda, Y/n?" Kol asked, panic in his voice.

Niklaus didn't reply, the weight of his sister and the wound in his side making it difficult to breathe.

"Niklaus, where are they?" Kol repeated.

"I- I don't know," Niklaus panted, stumbling over a branch.

The trees loomed above them, the darkness of the forest threatening to swallow them whole.

They continued to run, the sounds of the battle growing distant.

"We will find them. But first we must get Rebekah to a healer, she will die if we do not," Niklaus stated, his voice low and determined.

"We can't just leave them," Kol protested, his voice cracking.

"You don't think I know that!" Niklaus yelled, louder and angrier than he meant to.

Kol was quiet, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

They walked for what felt like an eternity, the pain in Niklaus' side growing worse with every step. The rapidly falling snow making it hard to see.

Niklaus could hear Kol sniffling and muttering to himself, his younger brother was barely holding on.

He was struggling too, the guilt and pain eating away at him.

He had failed you.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡

[ckret2]

"The second journal alone was the most important human grimoire of the last five hundred years!"

Me knowing you plan to make journal 2 sentient, and that i crack shipped tbob and J2- Awww what a charmer

Knowing now that Bill thinks Ford was wasting his time on "D-list cryptids" makes that even funnier.

Bill: "Oh yeah Journal 2's the only one without any crap cluttering it up, the other two are full of stupid drawings of barf fairies and gnomes. Spells and magic artifacts are where it's at!"

J2, which has spent thirty years feeling like the unloved middle child: "really?" 🥺💕

I don't think I'll actually do this in fic but "J2 is into TBOB" would be made even funnier by "J2 has developed a crush on Bill via TBOB."

[motdo-vn]

Introduction - Midnights of The Drowsy Owl

Visual Novel - Midnights of the Drowsy Owl

DEMO—TBA

Midnights of The Drowsy Owl is a novella magical realism, romance interactive fiction of five chapters. Romance is the foundation of the story, so there are no platonic relationships. It is influenced by mythologies with a lot of twists and turns, and a bit of Romanian influence.

When city life takes everything from you, you leave for a house you inherited from your late grandparents, in a town far away from the troubles of life: Caersolvita.

While strolling through the little town of Caersolvita after job hunting during the odd hours of the night, the old clock in the quaint settlement strikes twelve midnight, and a building down the dirt road illuminates the twilight.

Beads of light fall like stardust through the coffee-scented building. No one knows about it, and even if they did, they cannot find it. When midnight strikes, it all changes. Down the bricked pathway of the town, life clicks into light, and the twinkles of windchimes carry a bitter fragrance.

A “Looking to Hire!” board stands neatly by the doormat of the slightly tarnished place. With little hope of finding a job anytime soon, you enter the cafe. When offered a trainee position as a barista, you leave for home, unknowing of the wonders that await you when the dead hours of the night come about.

Features

Choose your gender: female, male, non-binary

Work at a quaint café in a rural town, shrouded in mystery and solitude.

Unravel the secrets of the midnight café.

Romance one of the four ROs and explore a fresh adventure with one of the three personalities chosen.

Deal with some snappy customers or different oddities.

Find out the history of Caersolvita through each route.

Enjoy a life of quietude and comfort, away from the worries of life.

Personalities: Loveable airhead, Taciturn fool, Sarcastic charmer

Character profile

(Gender-selectable)

Beautiful and dignified, Thana is the peculiar owner of the The Drowsy Owl. Behind the mysterious red eyes and snowy pale skin, the discipline of the body and grace follows each tilt of the wrist, where the whiffs of coffee beans stream along the cafe.

Admired by everyone in Caersolivita for sublime service, coupled with sweet words, Thana is the go-to barista if someone requires comfort or dark humor. Although the sorry state of the cafe, it is the first choice for everyone.

With every smile given to Thana, two more are returned, and with each heart that is offered, the more Thana guards the heart. Somehow, though, the trainee barista has a way with their words.

Unhinged. There is no other word that fits the young wolf-like Ylfa. A shepherdess along the hillside of Caersolvita, she meets each situation with the flash of her canines and a huff. With a beige bonnet laced around the edges, she fancies the lolita fashion, enjoying lavish dresses, contrary to her rambunctious voice. Or she may opt for a pink tank top with a red bow to match.

In the dead of night, a voice like a siren vying for love sings from the northern cliff at the very edge of the town. From the ruffled chestnut brown hair and perky ears gilded by the moonlight, her song willows past till dawnbreak.

Despite the tough and rowdy personality, Ylfa holds her hands close to her chest, sometimes shooting glances towards the trainee barista from the day they met eyes.

Idris (m)

Personal trainer by day, guardsman by night. Idris is often described as "too blunt for his own good." Towering over everyone in town, he is regarded as a dark warrior, a signature black hood hanging over his defined face. Polite and well-spoken, his sharp tongue still manages to overshadow such traits.

By the bridge that connects the mainland to the hook-shaped cliffside town, Idris guards the safety of the people. Always seen next to the old watchtower, most hear grunts from the place, running away in fear.

When he bumped his head against the door of Drowsy Owl, he meets gaze with the trainee barista, and color rose-pink erupts from the steely brown eyes.

Shaylah (nb)

Always smelling like honey and floral concoctions, Shaylah is a local apothecary who resides near the very edge of the cliff. Catching eyes everywhere they go, their sterling red hair shines like the sun under light. Always seen walking around town with a sunhat the size of an umbrella, Shaylah's ethereal voice wrecks the minds of people when their brash and uncouth words begin to lash out.

Spending the afternoon and night cooped up in their house, they take the blue flowers on the cliff, grinding them and creating concoctions. No one outside of the town knows what it truly is, and only Shaylah's family knows of it.

After spending a full day in their shop, taking a rest at midnight by The Drowsy Owl is usually what happens, accompanied by a cup of hibiscus tea. But now, where the bright eyes of the trainee barista caught them off-guard, they never forgot.

[fiddlehead-soup]

Raphael x chronic hand pain!Reader

It'd been years and you'd tried every potion. Every healer you can find. You've had surgery and still, the pain in your hands persisted. There seemingly wasn't much anyone could do anymore. Everyone told you to just live with it, but you didn't want to--you wanted things to change. You want to feel better. So you sought out the devil Raphael.

Raphael turned out to be much more handsome and charming (funny; so damn funny) than you ever could've ever imagined. You even had a lot in common. The arts were one of the few things left in life you could appreciate without expending yourself. It was how you passed the time. It was what brought a smile to your face amidst your aches, what softened the pain for you when medicines could not. The romantic poems and heroic tales brought you to places you could never imagine going in real life anymore.

Your passion and appreciation for them extended beyond the typical fan and Raphael not only saw this, but admired it. Not to mention the fact that you hold conversations much better than most, even though at first, to him you were just a pitiful mortal in dire need of help like the rest of them. The more sadistic part of him even enjoyed watching your daily struggles, knowing each one would bring you closer to selling him your pretty little soul.

Maybe you knew that deep down, but it just felt so good when he held your hands in his. He made them hot--really hot--and that warmth was always a boon to your aches, it soothed them so quickly like nothing else. Afterwards, he'd lift each hand up to his lips and leave you with two kisses atop your hands, the charmer.

At least he did at the start. The typical routine eventually lead to five little kisses on each of your knuckles. Ten total kisses.

Maybe one on each cheek for good measure afterwards.

They kept adding up, but you never complained. It felt, ironically, heavenly.

A year of that passed. He eventually stopped reminding you to make a contract with him. He no longer chided you when you complained, no longer teased that he could heal you in an instant if you weren't such a scared little mouse (just sign the damned thing already).

No; when you called for him then, exhausted after a long day of strain; he simply held you. Hugged you, kissed you, sang with you, read with you. There was no magic at work, but yet, you felt better each time. Just for awhile.

And it was around then that Raphael realized in a moment of horror? Disgust? Betrayal? Honesty. That he did not really want to cure you. Should you have made the contract with him and healed, you would have no need for him any more, or so he thought. And he wanted to keep visiting you. Dare he admit to himself that he rather enjoyed the time you two spend together listening to live music, attending theater, and reading romantic literature...

Five years, that situation continued on. You'd found a new reason to want to live. You'd grown so much. He didn't realize he was a part of it all, not really. He was too busy focusing on how brightly you smiled, the sound of your laughter, the way you held yourself up with more confidence, even when he wasn't around.

It really did seem like you'd no longer a need for him, even with your condition. You healed in your own way.

He didn't like that. He didn't like the hold you had on him, either--he needed you to need him the way he had grown to need your company.

Unbeknownst to him were your true feelings for him and so, perhaps in a rash act of desperation--something to keep you wanting, needing, something to cause you ache as he did whenever he saw you--he left you a goodbye letter dressed with a rose on your night stand to wake up to one random morning.

The letter stated: Though he'd thoroughly enjoyed his time with you and finds your taste in many things rather impeccable, including in his own company, it is clear no actual business was ever to be done between you two. The devil would always welcome you to his home with open arms--should you decide to ever make him a serious offer--but the curtain on the show you starred in must fall at some point. This letter would be the end of whatever it was you had, and what a grand finale it was.

Silly devil! Didn't he know, the best shows always featured an encore?

[arc-misadventures]

You’re A What?

Jaune: I’m back! Hey, Nora how are youuuuuuuuuuu…?!

Nora: Oh, hello, Jaune.

Jaune: Whoa…

Nora: Oh please, Jaune. You’ve seen me dressed like this before. You’ve even made sure that I was wearing less at that~!

Jaune: Hey, just because I’ve seen a thousand sunrises, doesn’t mean the thousandth, and one sunrise I see will be any less if not more beautiful.

Nora: Oh my, such a charmer aren’t you~!

Jaune: I just tell the truth. Speaking of truths; Is this just an outfit you put on for fun, or are you an actual witch?

Nora: Oh I’m an an actual witch.

Jaune: S-Seriously?

Nora: Yes. I haven’t shown you this because there was no need to. But, I need to get my magic circulating again, otherwise I will use my youthful visage.

Jaune: Wait, you use your magic to make yourself look young?

Nora: Quite successfully at that I must add~!

Jaune: So… How old are you…?

Nora: Ohh… I’m seven hundred, and thirty two years old.

Jaune: S-Seven hundred, and thirty two years old?! But, you look like you’re in your mid-late twenties!

Nora: I wanted my body to represent me when I was in my prime. And, I have been for over six hundred years.

Jaune: Oh my gods…

Nora: This isn’t a problem now is it…?

Jaune: Gods… I thought I was lucky, being the country bumpkin who managed to snag a big titty goth girlfriend. But, some how I managed to get a mature, big titty goth witch girlfriend?! How am I so lucky?! And, why are you even hotter now then you were five minutes ago! You’ve literally done nothing, but you’re like a thousand times more hotter than you were before!

Nora: …

Nora: Well, the bed better be broken by the time I’m done with you~!

Jaune: Can do!

Nora: Perfect~!

[ace-of-hats]

I've always kind of been annoyed at how Kendra Seth and Knox each get powers from different varieties of magical creatures (Kendra is Fairykind, Seth is a shadow charmer, Knox is a giant friend or something i forget what its called) but Tess is just has a worse version of Kendra's powers.

I think that was a bad decision on the author's part, and I think he might say, like, oh, it's because she has to be innocent (fairies aren't innocent, this was established in the first book), or it's because she really likes fairies. I get it, I loved fairies as a kid--i still do. and let me tell you, the kids who love fairies are 1) not innocent (blood and death were very prevalent whenever i played fairies) and 2) i literally don't care.

I honestly really liked when the fairies guided Tess to drink the milk, but that could have still happened without her becoming fairystruck.

In my opinion, it would have been much more compelling to have Tess be a dragon sibling.

Pros:

It would be a good way to put more dragons in Dragonwatch.

 It would help make dragons as a species seem more like how they did in Fablehaven (the most humanlike of all magical creatures) instead of just the bad guys.

In chapter 16 of SotDS, Gavin says “the dragons adopted me as one of their own and shared some power with me. I can [speak] their languages. If dragons kill me they would be challenged as if they had slain a dragon. My status as a dragon brother even affects me physically—I’m a little stronger and [faster] than I look”. I don't know how much of this is actually true, considering Gavin wasn't actually a dragon brother, but, since nobody questioned him (and this is all fictional) I'm going to assume this is all true. This could add more to the story in many ways. 1st, Tess couldn't be killed by a dragon and would be extra strong and fast, but she would still be underestimated because she's 10 and wears fairy wings. 2nd, she would be great friends with Raxtus. There are probably other ways this could improve the story but I haven't read Dragonwatch in a while.

It would be fun to see Tess hanging out with big scary dragons and Knox, Newel, and Doren not really knowing what to do about it.

Tess would actually have something interesting to add to the story instead of just being brought around places for five books. 

character development.

Cons:

Brandon mull would have to reread his books (this is only a con for him not anyone else. I'm only kind of joking here).

Sorry for going full on essay here (I’m lying I’m not sorry actually). If anyone who remembers more from Dragonwatch than I do thinks of any other pros or cons, I would love to know them!

[furrbbyx]

This is an idea I had because I really really wanted the wednesday show to be part elvira, part body horror, part camp, and utrerly the same vibe as the old movies. Kooky. BUT GROWN

Anyway heres the first part of a fanfiction I never really finished, fearuring a naga. I'm editing this on mobile which is to say im not editing this at alllll.

Approx 2200 words. Do not reproduce or copy.

Warnings...uh....really soft vore. This is maybe sfw.

In a haunted warehouse in upstate New York, on any given weeknight you can buy a ticket and enter into a delightful, odd place where nothing you experience can be trusted. Maybe you heard about it from a coworker, or maybe you were drawn by the eerie blinking lights announcing

Wednesday World.

Wednesday World.

Either way, you will be ushered into a seat on risers that climb high against the brick walls next to a couple sharing a soft drink and a hotdog, or a family of five all trying to get the best view and coddle the baby who is out way past it's bed time. Each act will strain your sense of reality.

A fortune teller picks a victim from the crowd and reveals a terrifying prophecy of failed love in a scratchy high voice. Will the prediction come true?

A magician mesmerizes the crowd with increasingly dangerous tricks. Did he really conjure a demon in a fiery cauldron? How it all seems like a dream when you wake up in your bed the next morning in your normal house and go about your normal day, pretending those feats weren't all that impressive. But maybe you aught to go back and see how to do that that hypnotism trick.

Yes, maybe the curiosities of Wednesday World are only as real people want them to be. Yet that never stopped a show, nor the crowds, nor the money. As for Wednesday Addams, well nothing stops Wednesday.

On this night, a brisk October evening where mist floats over the vast concrete parking lot like waiting ghosts, the last act of the night is drawing quite a spectacle.

A hand painted canvas hanging on the facade of the building reveals the biggest attraction of the night and tonight it reads:

"Sinful Snake-Monster Man! He'll devour your soul!" in bright blood-red letters. Below the lettering is the image of a beautiful brown-skinned shirtless man with glowing yellow eyes and a imposing black-scaled hood flared around his face and shoulders. He's a beautiful and terrifying beast who's smooth torso flows into the thick coiled segments of a white bellied snake. The artist is quite talented as this snake-man looks like he's about to slither out of the canvas and start eating the people lined up to buying tickets.

The crowds press into the building from all entrances. Their warm bodies add to the heat and the heady undercurrent of anticipation, stopping the freezing cold of the winter night from dampening the hype. They mingle and writhe like a sinuous creature themselves until the mood of the room changes suddenly.

Cheers erupt from the stands, clapping, and whistling and laughing humans ready for their entertainment.

Ah, the Ring Master has entered.

"My gracious fans" The RM coos into the microphone. The smile and charisma in his voice cause another round of appreciative whistling.

"Heh, you flatter me! Tonight my lovelies the greatest exibit to date, brought to you by the one and only Wednesday World. The night cirsu of delights and horrors, magic and mystery, danger and daring! We cannot be responsible for the state of your brain after viewing this specatcle. Those with weak stomach have been warned!"

The RM lowers their voice and spins slowly in place addressing everyone in the room.

"Deep in the indus valley lives one of the most deadly creatures known to man! Thought o be a myth, a silly tale to scare the children."

RM wags their finger as a nervous chuckle goes through the crowd

"No myth however! We have found him! Captured by the skilled renowned snake charmer Ares Zarin!"

With a flourish the RM gestures to a tall lanky human man who has come from behind the curtain at one edge of the ring. His tightly curled brown hair is cut close to his head and shines with pommade. The white linen shirt he's wearing is unbuttoned showing his muscled chest. At his hip is a long wicked looking whip. He walks with a confident swagger into the ring smiling and greeting the now wild crowd with waves and bows. He stalks around the ring in his big thick jungle boots as if he's never known a day of fear in his life.

"Come now friend, aren't you a little worried?" The RM goads Ares as they exchange a hand shake and hug greeting.

"Well I've never met a snake I couldn't control" Ares says into the microphone. Quite a few in the crowd can be heard swooning over his easy confidence and good looks.

"I don't know, ladies and gentleman. No beast can love it's captor." The RM sweeps their arm to the curtain again where two brawny pale circus workers and pulling a huge cage into the ring. Inside the barred cage is the snake man. He's been adorned with golden jewelry and a silken wrap about his hips. He looks relaxed but there is an agitation to his shifting coils and flicking tongue.

A hush ripples through the crowd.

"Abomination!"

"Monster!"

Some cannot contain their fear, compulsively screaming in the face of their worst nightmare.

The workers bring the cage to the middle of the ring and await the RM's next words. They are simple. The crowd is already stunned.

"For your delight! and fuel for your nightmares, Wednesday Word presents the Sinful Snake-Monster Man and the Charmer!"

The men work at the locks on the cage and the door falls open before they scramble away and the lights in the room cut off leaving only an ominous spotlight on Ares. Ares looks unaffected, bored even as the sounds of the snake-man uncoiling itself fill the ring.

The susurration of skin is the only sound coming from outside of the spotlight. No one can see what's hidden in the darkness, yet they already know what waits there.

The crowd seems to cringe as one, as the tail of the beast whips out from the darkness. Ares leaps to the side, rolling away from the first strike then another.

A loud hiss of anger blooms in the darkness. Ares uncoils the whip from his waist and stalks towards the the edge of the light.

"Come now, my sweet. Don't be sore. We've let you out of that cage, show yourself to the crowd" He says, taunting.

The hiss grows louder. Ares jumps back. The beast follows him into the light fangs bared and its patterned hood flared wide and quivering. Ares laughs.

"You see, he's vain if nothing else!" Ares shouts to the crowd. They whistle and cheer in response! Some stomping their feet in agreement.

The snake-man curls and twists his body into the ring. He so big that his long tail seems to encircle the entire space, leaving no room for escape. Ares holds the whip loosely, watching, not ready to strike at the snake-man but he reaches into his shirt with the other hand and draws out a peculiar object. A smallish thing that looks like a long-necked little gourd with a doubled fife stuck into the bottom of it. There's a net of cowrie shells around the bulbus middle and the neck is painted with arcane symbols of protection. Ares lifts it to his lips and begins to play a reedy rhythmic tune charging the ambiance with an eerie feeling.

The song calls the beast closer. It sways to the music, coiling and slithering with unnerving grace towards Ares. And it seems the human crowd is just as hypnotized by the sweet soothing noise.

Outside of the glare of the spotlight  all of this fanfare is being closely monitored by the RM and the grunts, yes, but also by the proprietor of this unholy circus: Wednesday Addams. Below the circus ring, in her tightly locked office sits the genius woman and mastermind of this operation. Wednesday watches the act, the RM, and the crowd as they are captured by her surveillance system. In fact she watches the entire building, the grounds the receiving garage and the corridor leading to her office on multiple monitors spread across on wall of the room. 

Wednesday has grown into a bewitching, maniupulative woman, Her gothic style is a symphony of darkness and allure, embodied in her striking hair and makeup choices. Long ebony locks cascade down her back in thick waves, contrasting against her porcelain skin. Her eyes are framed by dramatic, winged eyeliner, accentuating their piercing intensity, while deep, burgundy lipstick adds a touch of mystery to her full lips.

As for her attire, she embraces her gothic sensibilities with a bold and daring ensemble. A mesh top, intricately patterned with occult symbols, hugs her curves snugly, revealing hints of skin beneath its web-like design. Paired with a flowing black skirt that sways with each confident step, she exudes an air of elegance and defiance.Her gothic style is a symphony of darkness and allure, embodied in her striking hair and makeup choices. Long ebony locks cascade down her back in thick waves, contrasting against her porcelain skin. Her eyes are framed by dramatic, winged eyeliner, accentuating their piercing intensity, while deep, burgundy lipstick adds a touch of mystery to her full lips.

As for her attire, she embraces her gothic sensibilities with a bold and daring ensemble. A mesh top, intricately patterned with occult symbols, hugs her curves snugly, revealing hints of skin beneath its web-like design. Paired with a flowing black skirt that sways with each confident step, she exudes an air of elegance and defiance.

She's anticipating the climax of the act, having watched the rehearsals between her current lover Kaliya and the cocky Ares. She licks her lips. The unnatural scene in front of her is quite arousing. To the crowd it looks as if Kaliya is utterly under Ares's spell, they feel safe now that the snake-man is under control. But Wednesday knows Kaliya is stalking the man. No mortal could match Kaliya in speed or strength, nor in the bedroom Wednesday muses. For a few moments she's hyper focused on the thick smooth-scaled muscle of his tail especially where the sharp human hip bones meld into his monstrous snake body. 

He sways in front of her on camera while she toys with a nipple, sore from the fang marks he'd giver her just this afternoon. The sheer mesh of her top gives her easy access to her puckering nipples.

Ares plays like Kaliya is occupied with the sound of the fife, sauntering closer to the swaying snake-man. Kaliya plays like a docile beast for the crowds, until it's too late that is. The sudden speed with which the man's tail grabs Ares distorts the air with a noise so ominous it causes someone in the crowd to scream in its wake.

"Look out!"

The fife flies from Ares's grasp as he's stunned by the hit. The vicious tail lifts Ares by his leg dangling him above the ground like a bunch of grapes. Ares recovers quickly enough to grab at a hidden dagger and lunges for the appendage wrapped around his leg.Kaliya's hiss fills the room setting off the crowd like never before. Screams erupt as the crowd watches Ares become wrapped in writhing snakeflesh up to his stomach, still held high and being dragged closer to doom. 

"abomination!"

"god someone stop it! he'll be eaten!"

"Kill the beast!"

Kaliya seems to transform before their eyes, his body vibrating and expanding the distinctive reptilian hood of his species making him look even larger than before. His jaw grows wide, unhinges with wet pops until a terrifying maw opens around fangs as long as a tiger's, glittering with saliva. With shocking quickness the constricting coils around Areas release him suddenly and he drops down Kaliya's throat before the man has a chance to scream. Kaliya makes a single gulp around the fat bulge in a grotesque feeding display of Ares getting devoured alive.

Finally the spell of spectacle is broken as the people panic and start stampeding out of the circus. Suddenly more of the burly, pale workers appear among them guiding the flow, trying to stop the worst of the trampling and pandemonium. The ring is filled with 5 men and the ring master, making a show of conquering the man-eating monster and trying to save Ares. Yet they need not have strained their acting skills in such a way. The illusion had done much better than anticipated. Not a single patron stayed long enough to see Kaliya pushed into the shadows backstage.

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in Dec 2022. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #45 |  ko-fi | fic recs

-Larry-

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, soulmates au) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. 

I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence

(NR, 36k, fake relationship) Harry cannot go home alone when he had promised to bring a significant other again. 

Set the Sky Alight, Oh Holy Night by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 33k, roommates) One house, five almost-strangers (plus Niall), six new beginnings.

reckless behaviour by @nouies

(E, 13k, strangers to lovers) Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

It Started with a Spark by exceptionallyordinharry / @exceptionally0rdinary

(NR, 6k, canon) Could the magnetic pull he feels towards a certain curly-haired cutie be about more than friendship?

come my love be one with the sea by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(M, 6k, mermaid au) Pirate captain Louis gets saved from the storm by mermaid Harry, and grows particularly fond of this mysterious creature.

Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, high school) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

Love In Conversation by @hellolovers13

(T, 5k, baking au) Louis has a severe baking breakdown. Thankfully, he gets help from baking-hotline operator Harry.

Tide's Deathless Death by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 4k, pirate au) There was no single man who had survived after taking up arms against the captain.

Every Boy is a Lily (series) by docklands / @hershelsue

(M, 3k, trans Harry) Harry moves to Paris. With no one to talk to, he makes friends with his neighbour from the window next to his, a painter named Louis with a burning passion for life.

Chicago by @hellolovers13

(G, 3k, exes to lovers) They hadn't seen each other in four years, why was Louis still writing songs about Harry?

-Rare Pairs-

Me And You Is All I've Ever Known by restless_rebels / @restless-rebels

(T, 24k, Louis/Zayn) “I love you! And I always will! I’m going to come back and prove that!” Louis shouted down the hall as Zayn opened the front door.

When you love someone, you make room by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992

(E, 20k, Louis/Jamie Campbell Bower) Jamie Campell Bower is a big deal, of that Louis is sure. He's a walking charmer with a jawline to die for. So, it's a bit of a surprise when Jamie looks his way, let alone approaches him to chat him up.

Sweet Talk (series) by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(M, 12k, Louis/Niall) Niall easily deflects her, though, then grabs the collar of Louis’ leather coat with her unnaturally strong grip and throws her back into the wall where she came from. If Louis had been human, she might have been knocked out. It’s a good thing that she isn't.

The Concept Of Controlled Love by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers

(E, 10k, Louis/OMC) Louis and Andrew make a deal to help each other pass the term, but things turn out differently than expected.

Cigarettes and Chances by @faithinwalls369

(G, 7k, Louis/Liam Gallagher) On a whim, he decides to enter a competition via local radio, for a chance to have backstage access to Liam Gallagher's latest album release tour. 

The Seduction Of Draco Malfoy by Stillwriting / @adam-my-adam

(E, 7k, Louis/Draco Malfoy) The handsome, prickly stranger had melted into a wrecked, sexy, pleading dream…and Louis had done it to him.

something runnin' around my head by andfollowthesun / @halien

(G, 7k, Louis/Niall) Louis likes to think that Anne and Robin like them though; the three of them have been flatmates for the better part of two years, and friends before that. It would be bad form to show up to an anniversary empty-handed.

here with me by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor

(T, 6k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has been secretly dating Nick, and things were going so smoothly, but then Nick finds out that he's pregnant and they have no choice but to tell everyone about their relationship.

Worth the Risk by Lhhome / @lhhomefics

(E, 5k, Louis/Lando Norris) The one where Lando Norris just wants to flirt with the cute guy he saw from across the room and Louis finally finds someone who is worth the risk.

flame colored paradise by cinnamons / @sunbellylou

(E, 3k, Louis/Mads Mikkelsen) He looked like a sight straight from heaven in his dark three-piece suit, hair in perfect place, a relaxed look on his face, as if he hasn’t had a hard-on for the last half an hour. Louis loved how Mads was always perfectly composed, never a single strand of hair out of place.

It's All Come and Go by @haztobegood

(E, 2k, Louis/Orville Peck) “Truck stops are like the original Grindr.” - Orville Peck, Coachella 2022

Demons Hide by sitandadmire / @louistomlionson

(NR, 777 words, Louis/Four) "When are you getting that tongue piercing we talked about?" Louis chuckles. "As soon as you manage to keep me pinned down long enough, love."

[themculibrary]

Non-Explicit Slash Pairings Masterlist

a developing habit (ao3) - Moransroar steve/tony G, 3k

Summary: Courtesy of having spent years in the ice, Steve can’t stand the cold. Luckily, there is someone who can help him with that.

aim (ao3) - visiblemarket clint/phil M, 61k

Summary: Clint “Hawkeye” Barton takes on a contract for one Philip J. Coulson. It all goes downhill from there.

(And uphill for a while. Then downhill again. Mostly downhill, overall).

all it takes is faith, trust, and a dream (ao3) - Espressosaur, ohstars steve/bucky G, 45k

Summary: A road trip, a fairytale, a prince, and a boy who never grew up, together they make a story filled with magic.

below freezing (ao3) - aftersoon (notboldly) rhodey/tony M, 11k

Summary: When Rhodey crash lands in the Himalayan wilderness, it tests more than just his survival skills.

bless this ink and our souls (ao3) - Akira_of_the_Twilight bucky/clint/steve/tony T, 5k

Summary: Steve and Tony venture to Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law to bless the ink that they will need for their protection spell.

Things get heated between Steve and Tony, and Matt Murdock reveals a secret of Tony’s that leaves Steve stunned.

camping for three (ao3) - hopelessly_me clint/steve, bucky/clint, bucky/clint/steve T, 3k

Summary: Clint plans a camping trip so he can try to learn a little bit more about Bucky and if a three-way relationship is something that can work for everyone.

come on closer (ao3) - Epiphanyx7 steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: [[… porn.]]

Or, the one where Steve wants to talk to Tony about something important.

hand over your heart (ao3) - cherryvanilla clint/phil, steve/tony M, 7k

Summary: If a top secret file on Phil Coulson and Clint Barton’s relationship existed, it would look something like this.

have i changed? (ao3) - katling tony/stpehen T, 141k

Summary: I liked you more before you met the Avengers.

It’s an offhand comment that Tony wasn’t sure he was actually meant to hear. But he did and he doesn’t know what it means. Lucky for him, Rhodey’s got an answer for him.

hey, stephen (i’ve been holding back this feeling) (ao3) - hopelessrdj tony/stephen G, 11k

Summary: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have never met each other before until the day every student at their university gets forced into attending one co-educative class not connected to their major. Both geniuses end up in the music department and in order to make it more interesting they come up with a competition between the two of them.

it’s been a long, long time (ao3) - darling_highness steve/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Steve and Bucky on vacation…

once lost (now found) (ao3) - Teeelsie bucky/clint M, 40k

Summary: There’s a beat and then Phil says, “Clint, you don’t have anything to prove.”

And that stings, because, “If you think I’m doing this to prove anything to anyone, then you don’t know me half as well as I thought you did.” He hears Phil sigh on the other end of the comm. “Besides,” Clint tells him, “I’ll have back-up. I’ll have Barnes. Hawkeye out.” He reaches up and clicks off the comm, cutting off Phil’s continued objection mid-word.

Eight days these assholes have had Barnes and he’s not going to let them keep him for another hour, much less another day. He doesn’t have anything to prove, but he sure as hell isn’t going to give anyone any reason to question his actions, either.

shelter from cold (ao3) - torchestogether peter/wade M, 7k

Summary: The snowstorm was too severe for anyone to sleep out on the streets. Peter knew it was a bad idea, but even Deadpool deserved to have someone looking out for him.

six feet apart but definitely gay (ao3) - hvllanders ned/peter G, 2k

Summary: or

Five Times Peter and Ned Fail at Telling People They’re Dating and One Time They Don’t

sky is clear tomorrow (ao3) - sketchnurse sam/bucky T, 5k

Summary: Yeah, Sarah was getting a little frustrated with Bucky flirting with her like the old charmer he was and nothing more. There had to be something going on, and Sam was getting asked what Bucky’s deal was whether he liked it or not. Then Sarah figures out that she might not be the only Wilson eyeing up that tree trunk of a man…

space is for the birds (ao3) - hopelessly_me bucky/clint/steve T, 3k

Summary: Clint gets elected by Tony to travel to space with him to repair a spaceship, and all Clint wants to do is get back home to Bucky and Steve.

three men in a vw (ao3) - Brokenpitchpipe steve/bucky T, 3k

Summary: Steve steps back into the car and closes the door, lips still tingling.

“You don’t like blondes,” Bucky says.

Sam chokes.

trading in on our names (ao3) - pherryt clint/bucky T, 11k

Summary: Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier didn’t know each others identities. Being mercenaries meant secrets both inside and outside of the jobs. That didn’t stop either of them from admiring from afar, resigned to never going any further.

Then Clint and Bucky started dating and life got a little more complicated…

under stars (ao3) - vulcantastic steve/tony T, 14k

Summary: Commander Tony Stark, just kicked off the USS Expedition for mutiny, finds comfort in an ensign wandering the halls of the USS Quinjeti at 0400 hours. Southern comfort, no less.

who we are (ao3) - reclusiveq steve/bucky G, 3k

Summary: When Bucky comes home beat up, Steve is left to wonder why. His search for an answer will reveal a truth his friend may not be ready to share.

[carewyncromwell]

“So prepare for the coup of the century... Be prepared for the murkiest scam!”

~“Be Prepared (cover)” by Man on the Internet

x~x~x~x

So I thought it was high time I tried drawing Carewyn’s grandfather Charles Cromwell again, so as to practice drawing older characters...and in doing so, I decided to make a proper comparison post pitting Charles up against his game-canon counterpart: the “Leader” of R as imagined by Jam City, Peregrine.

Yeah, uh...I think you can see why I was a little disappointed by the direction Jam City went with.

In case the text isn’t easy to read, here’s a transcript copy --

Charles Cromwell VS Peregrine

Evil Patriarch // Dead-beat Dad

“Mob Boss” type // “Darth Vader” wannabe

Works in the Wizengamot // Works as a “tracker”

Powerful Legilimens // ...Yeah, no

Rich AF // ...Also no

Social connections galore // ...Still no

Gaslighter Extraordinaire // LOL, he *wishes*

Has competent underlings // *SNORT*

Emotionally abusive // Neglectful

Runs R with an iron fist // Can’t control his subordinates??

Torture and death // Wampus Cats and cursed CD’s

Dark Empath // Charmer (?)

Widower // Divorcee

Obsessed with control // Obsessed with revenge

Would hurt a child // (Does too but denies doing it)

Blood Purist // Anti-Death Eater Extremist

Commands 50+ people // ...Five? Ten, maybe?

In my personal headcanon, I see Peregrine as the original leader of R when Charles first discovered it, only for his supposed right-hand man and mentor figure Charles to backstab him and get him assassinated by a younger and much more trusting Patricia Rakepick so that the head of the Cromwell Clan could take full control of the Cabal, its members, and its activities. According to Rakepick’s account of the event, as told to Carewyn in the still unfinished, grah Good!Rakepick AU --

“I immediately went to Charles Cromwell and told him [about how R had ordered my cohorts and me to attack you]. I had thought that he, being your grandfather, would be furious, regardless of his bad blood with your mother. And, at first, it seemed like I was right. Charles was very displeased when I told him that R had ordered me to attack you. He confided to me that he was concerned about the direction R’s leadership was taking – pointing out that, since I’d joined the Cabal, its members had been using more and more violence to get their way – and he asked for my support in helping him supplant the current leader and put an end to the way he did things. I stupidly accepted. In an attempt to right the sinking ship that I’d joined, I helped Charles assassinate R’s previous leader. I didn’t even know his name. It was only after Charles took over…that I realized what a big mistake I’d made. The violence R had been using wasn’t even planned by the man in charge – it had been Charles who had advised him to use force, to begin with. Charles hadn’t wanted any harm to come to you…but he was more than willing to make Jacob think that he would harm you – and that you, eventually, would also think he would harm Jacob. That way he could keep both of you as his pawns – using your love for each other to keep you in line. And worst of all…he was less upset that R had been willing to hurt a child…than he was that I had told him about it with the intent to try to stop it.”

With this cult of followers now fully at his disposal, Charles had a valuable new tool he could use to re-exert control over the family members who had tried to escape from him...namely, his daughter Lane and her children, Jacob and Carewyn.

Have a magical day, everyone! Much love! 🖤

(LOL, adding the individual frames of the GIF here, for those who want a better look at them. 😏)

[aro-simp]

i collected five f/os in one sitting yesterday so uh… [walks in and sits down because i have words to say]

the first of which was ironically an oc! he’s like… antihero, but slathered with patheticness. he keeps getting his ass kicked but still looks pretty?? he’s a tiefling bard (and he’s about to get a class switch if he doesn’t murder some harpies while remaining alive!!) he has hair the color of a storm, a mixture of grayish blues and purplish tints. which is one of my favorite parts of him alongside his pretty lips. i’d move mountains for this man because he’s just my baby girl!!

his personality leans on chaotic good, though he is a slick bastard whenever he wants to be. in his past, he was a tiefling who was beloved by his community and did his best to be considered “one of the good tieflings.” although, he ended up an outcast many times which led him to become quite the beast keeper. even in life or death situations, he’ll try to save as many lives as he can. this led him to forge a connections with various sorts. he has no intention of traveling alone whenever the stakes are high. anyone who can wield a weapon or magic is useful company. don’t take his heroic nature as a shoe that fits the dead. anyone who is a corpse is free to be pickpocketed, though he’ll try to carry out any last wishes if he has the time. as well, he does utilize “heroism” as a means to get people to trust him. regardless of how his party feels, he’ll often put them out there first if they’re in need of help and aid people because a grateful person is worth more than a corpse free to loot.

he’s a masculine nonbinary (primarily he/him, but i feel like he’d have a treasure box of neos! maybe he collects them from the dead… sees a corpse, gets a new neo) his identity goes unlabeled as he’s more interested in pursuing his goals than agonizing over yet another identity. he had his fun with that once, no need for twice! oh, forgot to mention his name of all things, whoops! his name is thyrais! i also just call him pathetic bbg— despite my insults, i promise i love him so much he’s my baby and i have already cried over several deaths he’s had. like you silly stinky sad boy!!! do not die!!! i love you too much for that!!!

anyhow i’m giving him all the kisses and hugs because he’s really my silly lil guy. can be super stupid, but he really is mine regardless!

please feel free to gush in return!!! i love hearing others gush too!!

OOOO HELL YESSSS OC F/O'S, Thyrais seems to be quite the charmer ;)

I don't even know who to gush about... so much love I have !!

I gotta say I am considering to f/o Gollum... I've been slipping into a LotR mood against and he's just so cute??? In like... a slimy stinky way. I just love himmm. He needs to be dangled like a cat!

[theserpentpharmakiea]

My name is Vivian. I am a Plant Charmer, Trance Dancer, Janara, Folk Magic Practitioner, Writer, Artist, Italian & Irish American Witchy Woman, Medium and Healer.

I am a teacher at Zinzeudo University. Where I teach online classes in relation to my practice.

The link for the class is below.

https://courses.zinzeudo.com/courses/Italian-Folk-Magic-Poisonous-Plant-Workshop

In this Course

Class begins Saturday, September 16th at 7:00 pm EST

In honor of the five-week “Poison Plant Series” I am doing a workshop for a crash course but in depth detailed look at the Poison Plant Series!

This information packed and accessible three-hour online class will be a mix of information from the series, with some added information that has not been in any class prior!

The Italian Folk Magic and Poisonous Plant workshop is a great chance to get you started working with poisonous plants in a spiritual and magical sense. This workshop will not only go over working with poisonous plants in spell work and magical practices, but shadow work and personal evaluation as well

Topics include:

Flying Ointment

Shadow Work

Ancestral Healing

Working with Plantcestors

Building relationships with poisonous plants

and much more!

Shamanic Journey to the Plant Realm

The class will end with a trance journey to open up the way to a connection to your poisonous plant guide. This is much like a guided meditation resulting in practical information to carry you into your magical practice.

Is this workshop for me?

This workshop is recommended if you

have a love or curiosity for working with plants and herbs

want to deepen your emotional and spiritual connection to the plant realm

have a desire to find new pathways to healing

Also Good To Know:

Class length:  three hours

What to bring:  pen and paper for note taking. 

Class recording will be made available in your Zinzeudo University account.

**As an added bonuses, If time allows at the end of the class we will be doing a guided meditation to connect with the plants spirits of the plants we are leaning of. I look forward to seeing you all there!

#plantspiritwisdom #plantcharming #plantwitch #plantdancing #poisonousplants

[mahvaladara]

Sims Say the Darnest Things: When you get this, list five of your characters and their best quotes so far. Then pass it on to five other storytelling simblrs. (if you already received it, feel free to ignore ♥)

One:

Arlo: Can we get rid of it?

Mal: Who, Apollo? Arlo, he’s a dick, but I don’t think murder is in order…

Two:

Apollo: He deserves anything that happens to hi- Aaagh!

Mal: Say that again and I will crush your windpipe, boy!

Three:

Mal: You really think I wouldn’t find you? This game only has so many available residential lots, you know. It’s not like I had much to look through.

Four:

Arlo chuckled: Eggs?

Syra: Yes! For smoothies and icecreams! Lot’s of protein.

Arlo: Salmonella too.

Syra: No! Our chickens are grass fed… and rodent fed. And bird fed. I watched them murder a canary who made the mistake of try to steal their food. Like… John Chick!

Five:

Mal: Learning to accept that people are passing parts of your existence, makes that (immortality) easy to cope with. Pain however, can become a constant. That’s why I keep some scars. Some pains were just… too much and no amount of time will ever make me get over them. That’s why I have a deep seethed resentment towards vegans, religious zealots, and blond, blue-eyed white men called Jullian.

Maeve: Ex-boyfriend?

Mal: Ugh! I’d rather be sawed in half again!

Six:

Mal: Knowing is not useless! Knowledge is not useless. Yes, perhaps knowing advanced algebra won’t teach you to fix a broken ankle, it’s not supposed to, it’s Math not Medicine. But knowing snakes are deaf can certainly prevent you from buying a ‘magical’ song just because a snake charmer was seen using it to control a snake. Or knowing basic biology will make you understand how vaccines and essential oils work.

Knowledge is power. And power is freedom!

[rhapsodyred-writes]

Jude was exactly where Roxy expected her to be - in the training room, with a pair of boxing gloves on.

"You should go talk to her." Roxy whispered to Jamie beside her, as Jude delivered punch after precise punch to the training dummy in front of her.

"Are you kidding me?" He whisper-hissed back. "I'd rather go up against an angry goose! Besides - your sword, your problem."

Roxy huffed a sigh at the same time that Jude turned around and fixed the both of them with an unimpressed stare.

"Do you need something? You're really distracting."

"Roxy wants to ask you something," Jamie piped up before Roxy even had a chance to open her mouth.

She made a mental note to shuffle his video games into the wrong cases later.

"I'm wondering if you have any idea where Salem is? I have it on good authority that he has a sword that's missing from my collection." Roxy took a tentative step forward; even though Jude was five inches shorter than her, Roxy knew Jude spent as much of her free time training as she could, and it wasn't for nothing.

"Did someone tell you I might have info?" Jude slipped off her boxing gloves and put a hand on her hip.

"Ah, not quite, but Xilixas did think maybe I'd need your help kicking Salem's royal rear once I do finally catch him."

Jude snorted. "Yeah, that's a pass for me. I know what that guy's capable of, with all his dragon magic. You ever seen him turn back time on a table that someone's wrecked before?"

"Ah, yes, but-"

"You think he couldn't turn back time to make the ass-kicking never have happened?"

Roxy was at a loss. It was unlike Jude not to pick every fight she could. Although, maybe she smartened up a little after that fight. Toni (even though it wasn't technically Toni) had been unstoppable, and only one person had been able to match her. Now that Roxy thought about it, Jude had been much more careful with the fights she picked after that.

And, of course, seeing as how Salem was 10,000-ish years old, picking a fight with him probably wasn't in anyone's best interest.

"Alright, well I don't suppose you've at least seen him?"

"Nope." Jude shrugged in an infuriatingly nonchalant way. "Maybe you'd consider enlisting the help of a reptile charmer?"

Her tone was teasing, but it gave Roxy an idea. Sykes wasn't exactly a reptile charmer, but he did deal in music.

In a bold move, she stepped forward and shook Jude gently by the shoulders. "Jude, you're a genius."

"I am?"

"She is?"

Roxy wheeled on Jamie. "What kind of music does Salem like?" She asked, her eyes twinkling with something that bordered on excitement.

"Uh, classical?"

"Exactly! And what kind of music does Sykes play the most?"

She watched the slow dawning realization on Jamie's face.

"You think we could find him there?" He asked.

"If not, maybe we can summon him somehow."

Jamie scoffed, but didn't offer more objections.

"Alright, we might as well. On to the music room, I guess!"

--

Previous

Next

First

[littleakatsuki]

The Moon's Feast

IF AS TRUE A STORY AS I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU, began an afternoon when the uneven cobblestone paths of the city of Oromoas came to be marked by a turning kaleidoscope of colours beautiful and blasphemous, then the silence was long, insufferable, and a prison to Marquis, the voice of the crowd having been long since lost to him; then indeed have it in mind that he was a short man of five feet eight inches with an elegant style even when he was at work thieving. Also he was barefoot, and at present in the heart of Charmers Cast where the air was full of magic, cool and sweet. And somehow Marquis had gone from an hour to possibly three in and amongst a gallimaufry of competing ads fading in and out and perched atop buildings like gargoyles—HICCUPS, HICCUPS, HICCUPS some screamed—others gliding past or over people, offering fourth dimensional colouration, a distortion in the visual world that flickered at the edges of his vision in waves of curves and angles, lines of light, a sense of artificial personality lurking from whence a little spark of code had sprung, truth and illusion even harder to untangle. But if anything, Marquis was in Charmers because of the obvious line it cast between what was real and what was a lie. The festivities of the moon’s feast had brought Mudalans from far and wide, including many Ar and Rad from across the Viridian sea, as well as those of the neighbouring Uniakke tribes. Visitors surfed the streets with the curious inquisition of children, spellcasts dashed the air, false mages yelled come hither in a way that was full of life, as life was good for profit. The merchant stallmen were still goading and enticing loaded pockets with silk tongues—it was clear that the last seven years had not touched on the desert city.

And: indeed, the Mudalans were quite remarkably without the bloodshed and agonizing conflicts that existed in the west. Its economy, already huge, was growing at the fastest rate of any major nation. She was a paradise built in hell. In times of crisis, the place to flock to. Man, beast, goblin—whoever was attracted by the desert felt that they were returning to tribal, or more shamanic forms of intoxication, where magic generated a primal engagement with nature. The intensity of the shared experience bound the people with a powerful initiatic sense of group identity, that expressed itself in distinctive visual, conceptual, and magical forms. Oromoas was ancient, good and wise, and perhaps too cramped by techno-enhancements, but there was always something more to be said about her. She was dear to Marquis for a reason. He surveyed and measured the streets and found them pleasing to the eye. His home had the best of interests to go along with its people. And there were fewer places left in the world more rooted in the ‘Old Ways’ of which he was still privy.