#the darkest woods 2

[lycawoon]

↳ ❝ 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 🌑 𝘿𝙊𝙂 ¡! ❞

[clitfisto]

can i be critical of black sails' writing for a second. for a show thats typically very very good at creating depth for even minor characters, 90% of the black characters are super fucking shallow

[frogchiro]

HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!

[art by doujinpearl]

ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33

tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major

I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.

okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!

Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.

And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.

But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.

König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!

And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.

I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.

You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.

It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.

The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.

Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?

When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?

Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.

And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.

[theartofangirling]

part 2 of the 2023 version of this post: young adult books!

part 1: middle grade books | part 3: adult books

this is a very incomplete list, as these are only books I've read and enjoyed. not all books are going to be for all readers, so I'd recommend looking up synopses and content warnings. feel free to message me with any questions about specific representation!

list of books under the cut ⬇️

aces wild by amanda dewitt

the chandler legacies by abdi nazemian

bruised by tanya boteju

juliet takes a breath by gabby rivera

picture us in the light by kelly loy gilbert

when we were magic by sarah gailey

iron widow by xiran jay zhao

the rise of kyoshi by f.c. yee

jane unlimited by kristin cashore

summer of salt by katrina leno

the wicker king by k. ancrum

the dead and the dark by courtney gould

wilder girls by rory power

i kissed shara wheeler by casey mcquiston

her royal highness by rachel hawkins

tell me how you really feel by aminah mae safi

the weight of the stars by k. ancrum

you should see me in a crown by leah johnson

last night at the telegraph club by malinda lo

the grief keeper by alexandra villasante

crier's war by nina varela

how to excavate a heart by jake maia arlow

imogen, obviously by becky albertalli

in other lands by sarah rees brennan

carry on by rainbow rowell

cemetery boys by aiden thomas

felix ever after by kacen callendar

i wish you all the best by mason deaver

little thieves by margaret owen

technically you started it by lana wood johnson

the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue by mackenzi lee

the infinite noise by lauren shippen

bonds of brass by emily skrutskie

the darkness outside us by eliot schrefer

simon vs. the homo sapiens agenda by becky albertalli

what if it's us by becky albertalli and adam silvera

aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by benjamin alire sáenz

like a love story by abdi nazemian

different for boys by patrick ness

history is all you left me by adam silvera

twelfth grade night by molly horton booth, stephanie kate strohm, and jamie green

across a field of starlight by blue delliquanti

heartstopper by alice oseman

check, please! by ngozi ukazu

bloom by kevin panetta and savanna ganucheau

laura dean keeps breaking up with me by mariko tamaki and rosemary valero-o'connell

the princess and the grilled cheese sandwich by deya muniz

if you'll have me by eunnie

on a sunbeam by tillie walden

the girl from the sea by molly knox ostertag

always human by ari north

rust in the root by justina ireland

dread nation by justina ireland

pet by awkwaeke emezi

the darkest part of the forest by holly black

elatsoe by darcie little badger

i was born for this by alice oseman

loveless by alice oseman

i hate everyone but you by gaby dunn and allison raskin

you know me well by nina lacour and david levithan

the black flamingo by dean atta

spinning by tillie walden

dreadnought by april daniels

a lesson in vengeance by victoria lee

all the bad apples by moira fowley-doyle

clap when you land by elizabeth acevedo

summer bird blue by akemi dawn bowman

the miseducation of cameron post by emily m. danforth

we are okay by nina lacour

radio silence by alice oseman

we used to be friends by amy spalding

a neon darkness by lauren shippen

i hope you get this message by farah naz rishi

are you listening? by tillie walden

alone in space by tillie walden

all out edited by saundra mitchell

out now edited by saundra mitchell

out there edited by saundra mitchell

[zapreportsblog]

Can I request platonic Carlisle x child fem witch reader (like 14-15, she ages really slowly), Carlisle saved her from being killed during the Salem Witch Trials? He cares for her so much and since she’s the only one who sleeps in the Cullen clan, he sometimes watches her sleep as if protecting her or something. And he acts somewhat protective of her after finding out she’s Seth’s imprint?

❝the witch hybrid and her companion❞

✭ pairing : father Carlisle Cullen x reader x imprint Seth Clearwater

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is a young witch who Carlisle had saved from the Salem witch trials, she had been been on the verge of being fully brunt to death when he had grabbed and rescued her, she was fifteen when he had turnt her thus making her the first hybrid of both witch and vampire species.

✭ authors note : this shit so long I gotta make a part 2 because I wasn’t done writing

✭ twilight masterlist

The year was 1692, and the small town of Salem was ablaze with fear and suspicion. The Salem Witch Trials had gripped the community, turning neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend. Whispers of witchcraft echoed through the narrow, winding streets like a curse.

In the midst of this hysteria, a young witch named (Y/N) found herself ensnared in the web of accusations. She was a mere fifteen years old, with (dark/light) (h/c) hair and hypnotizing (e/c) eyes that held the secrets of centuries past. Her magical abilities had manifested early, and she had done her best to hide them, but the fervor of the witch hunt had spared no one.

One fateful evening, as the moon hung low in the darkened sky, the town's fervor reached its peak. (Y/N) was dragged from her humble cottage by an angry mob, her hands bound, and the scent of burning wood filled the air. The townsfolk were determined to put an end to the supposed evil that had plagued their lives.

The makeshift gallows stood tall in the center of town, a grim reminder of the collective madness that had taken hold. A wooden stake awaited (Y/N), and the flames that danced around it cast eerie shadows on her pale, terrified face.

As the crowd jeered and cursed, the flames were lit, and the stake began to smolder. (Y/N) let out a piercing scream as the searing pain coursed through her body. She was on the brink of death, her skin blistering and her vision fading.

But then, a figure emerged from the shadows, moving with preternatural grace and speed. Carlisle Cullen, a vampire with a heart that still beat for compassion, could not bear to witness this gruesome spectacle. He had heard rumors of witches in Salem and had come to investigate, hoping to prevent further tragedy.

In an instant, Carlisle reached (Y/N)'s side. With a strength that belied his gentle appearance, he tore the wooden stake from her chest. The townsfolk gasped in shock as they beheld a young man of ethereal beauty and otherworldly strength.

Carlisle cradled the near-lifeless (Y/N) in his arms and vanished into the night, leaving behind the chaos and confusion of the mob. He knew that there was only one way to save her now—to grant her the immortality of a vampire.

As they fled into the wilderness, (Y/N) clung to consciousness, her body burned and broken. She whispered a faint thank you to the stranger who had appeared like a guardian angel in her darkest hour. Little did she know that this mysterious savior would change the course of her life forever.

In the moonlit forest, Carlisle Cullen made a solemn vow. He would teach (Y/N) to control her newfound powers, guide her through the complexities of immortal life, and protect her from the world that had once condemned her. Together, they would find redemption and forge a bond that would withstand the ages.

Carlisle had taken a great risk when he saved (Y/N) from the clutches of death during the Salem Witch Trials. He had severed ties with the Volturi long ago, seeking a life that adhered to his moral compass. His choice to create a vampire out of (Y/N), who still possessed her magical abilities, was a secret he needed to protect at all costs.

The struggles were immediate. (Y/N)'s powers, now amplified by her vampiric nature, were dangerously unpredictable. At times, her emotions would trigger bursts of magic that could send objects flying or set the forest ablaze. Keeping her abilities hidden from both the human world and the vampire authorities became an arduous task.

Carlisle spent countless nights helping (Y/N) gain control over her newfound powers. He was patient, guiding her through the nuances of her magic, teaching her to harness it without drawing attention. Together, they honed her skills in secrecy, for they knew that revealing her true nature could lead to disastrous consequences.

As the years passed, Carlisle and (Y/N) developed a bond that ran deeper than blood. They became a family of two, sharing their eternal existence and the burden of concealing her abilities. It was a lonely existence, but they clung to the hope that they could find others like them, vampires who shared their values and accepted (Y/N) despite her magical nature.

Their quest for companionship led them on a journey across the continent. They followed whispers and rumors, searching for those who might understand their unique situation. It was during this quest that they stumbled upon a coven unlike any other.

In a remote, wooded area, they encountered people on the verge of dying such as Edward, Esme, Rosalie, Jasper, Emmett, and Alice.

Together, they navigated the challenges of their unique existence, supporting each other through the trials of immortality and the constant threat of the Volturi's scrutiny. As they honed their abilities and shared their stories, they discovered the true meaning of family – a bond forged not by blood but by choice and shared values.

Their coven became a sanctuary, a place where each member could be their authentic selves without fear of judgment or persecution. And as they faced the world together, they knew that their unity was their greatest strength, a testament to the power of love, acceptance, and the enduring spirit of those who dared to defy the darkness that sought to consume them.

The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.

Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.

One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.

The year was 2005, and the town of Forks had remained a quiet, secluded haven for the Cullen family. (Y/N), now a hybrid of a witch and vampire, appeared eternally fifteen but was wise beyond her years. Her days were spent in the cozy Cullen home, where Esme provided her with a homeschooling education tailored to her unique needs.

Yet, there was a part of (Y/N) that longed for more than the confines of their home. She yearned for the normalcy of teenage life, for the bustling hallways of a high school, and for the companionship of her siblings. Carlisle remained as protective as ever, reluctant to expose her to the unpredictable world outside, but he couldn't deny her the occasional visits to Forks High School.

One crisp afternoon, (Y/N) stood by the school's parking lot, waiting for her siblings to emerge from their classes. She watched as the students filed out, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart ached for the chance to experience such simple joys.

Suddenly, a tiny whirlwind of energy appeared before her, and she smiled as Alice materialized in front of her. Alice's golden eyes sparkled with excitement, and she greeted her sister with a grin.

"(Y/N), you won't believe it," Alice chirped, her voice filled with anticipation.

Arching an eyebrow, (Y/N) replied, "Believe what, Alice?"

With a playful twirl, Alice continued, "Life just got even more interesting in Forks High School."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be intrigued. "How so?"

Alice leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "There's a new girl at the school."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Alice's enthusiasm. "A new girl? Why is that so exciting?"

Alice's eyes widened as she explained, "Because, dear sister, this new girl is different. I've seen flashes of her future, and it's...uncertain. There's something extraordinary about her, something that might just shake up our tranquil little town."

(Y/N) considered Alice's words, her curiosity piqued. She had always trusted Alice's visions, and this revelation promised an unexpected twist in their otherwise peaceful existence.

As the rest of their siblings joined them in the parking lot, (Y/N) shared Alice's revelation. They exchanged glances filled with curiosity and anticipation. Life in Forks was about to become more intriguing, and the Cullen family was ready to face whatever challenges the new girl's arrival might bring.

Edward had long been intrigued by Bella Swan, the human girl who had captured his heart. He knew the time had come to introduce her to his family, the Cullens. With a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, he arrived at the Cullen residence with Bella by his side.

The Cullen home exuded an air of elegance and tranquility as Edward and Bella entered. Carlisle and Esme, the matriarch and patriarch of the family, stood together, their welcoming smiles putting Bella at ease. Alice, as ever, bounced with enthusiasm, eager to greet the newcomer.

Rosalie, the beautiful but distant blonde, maintained her standoffish demeanor. Emmett, her jovial and easygoing husband, offered a warm and friendly greeting. Jasper, with his polite distance, appeared cordial yet reserved.

As Bella took in the room full of unique and ethereal beings, her nerves were palpable. Edward gently squeezed her hand, offering silent reassurance.

Edward turned to Bella, his arm draped around her, and gestured toward the youngest member of the family. "(Y/N)," he began, "I'd like you to meet Bella Swan."

(Y/N) stepped forward, her emerald eyes twinkling with curiosity and warmth. "Hello, Bella," she greeted with a genuine smile.

Bella returned the smile, though her gaze flickered with surprise as she took in (Y/N)'s youthful appearance. "Hi, (Y/N). Nice to meet you."

Edward, ever the attentive brother, chimed in, "Bella, (Y/N) is homeschooled. She's rather sensitive emotionally, and we want to ensure she's comfortable."

Bella nodded, not questioning the explanation, and (Y/N) added, "It's lovely to meet someone new. I don't often get the chance to make friends outside the family."

As the conversation flowed, Bella and (Y/N) discovered shared interests. They both had a deep love for nature and a passion for ballet. They exchanged stories about their experiences, and (Y/N) found herself drawn to Bella's genuine and kind-hearted nature.

Alice, always eager to foster connections, joined in their conversation with her trademark enthusiasm. Jasper remained observant but distant, his empathic nature making him cautious around newcomers. Rosalie, on the other hand, kept her distance but couldn't help but sneak occasional glances at Bella, her curiosity getting the better of her.

As the evening unfolded, the Cullens' initial uncertainties about Bella began to fade. It was clear that she brought a light into their home, and her connection with (Y/N) was a pleasant surprise.

Though the Cullens were a family of immortal vampires, they had managed to create a sense of belonging and unity. With Bella's arrival, the dynamics shifted once more, adding a new layer of complexity to their existence. Little did they know that this human girl would play a significant role in their future, bringing challenges and joys they could never have anticipated.

The bond between (Y/N) and Bella had grown stronger since their first meeting at the Cullen household. They shared countless hours talking about everything from books to ballet, and their friendship had become an unbreakable connection.

One sunny afternoon, Bella decided to introduce (Y/N) to a friend from her other life in Forks, someone who was quite different from the Cullen family. She took (Y/N) to the nearby La Push reservation, where she introduced her to Jacob Black.

Jacob, a tall and lanky young man with a warm smile, greeted Bella and her new friend with enthusiasm. (Y/N) was immediately struck by his friendly and down-to-earth nature. She found herself drawn to his easygoing demeanor, which contrasted with the graceful elegance of her vampire family.

As they sat in the shade of a towering tree, (Y/N) and Jacob began to chat. She learned that Jacob had a passion for fixing cars and motorcycles, an interest he'd picked up from his father. It was an unusual hobby for a young man on the brink of shifting into a werewolf, but Jacob loved the mechanical world as much as (Y/N) loved ballet and nature.

"(Y/N), you ever work on cars or bikes?" Jacob asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

She shook her head, intrigued by the idea. "No, I've never had the chance, but I'd love to learn."

Jacob grinned, his enthusiasm infectious. "Well, I can teach you if you're interested. We've got an old truck in the garage that's in need of some TLC."

Bella watched as her friend and her new friend connected over a shared interest. It was a heartwarming sight, seeing her worlds collide in such a positive way.

In the days that followed, (Y/N) visited La Push regularly to spend time with Jacob. She learned how to wield wrenches and navigate the inner workings of an engine. She watched with fascination as he effortlessly fixed motorcycles and patiently explained the mechanics behind each repair.

As (Y/N) delved into this new hobby, she couldn't help but notice the parallel between her time with Jacob and the moments she had observed between Rosalie and Emmett as they worked on cars together. She marveled at the beauty of human experiences and how they transcended the boundaries of her immortal life.

Her friendship with Jacob deepened, and she treasured the moments spent working on engines and sharing stories under the open sky. In those moments, (Y/N) realized that bonds could be formed beyond the supernatural world of vampires and werewolves, and that the connections she forged with humans were just as significant and meaningful.

The year had turned to 2006, and the bonds between (Y/N), Bella, and Jacob had grown stronger since (Y/N) started learning about cars and motorcycles with him. However, a shadow had fallen over their friendship.

Jacob had become distant, and Bella couldn't understand why. She was tired of being ignored, and one day, she decided to confront him with (Y/N) by her side.

They arrived at Jacob's house, and the atmosphere was tense. Bella knew something was amiss, and she was determined to get answers. As they approached the house, they heard roughhousing and laughter coming from the backyard.

Bella's frustration was evident as she muttered, "Enough is enough. I need to know what's going on."

(Y/N) nodded in agreement, her concern mirrored in her eyes. They made their way to the backyard, where they were met with an unexpected sight. Paul, Jared, and Sam, all shirtless, were playfully wrestling in the grass.

Bella's patience had run thin, and she spoke up, "Jacob, we need to talk."

The laughter ceased as the three boys turned to look at the girls. Sam, with his wisdom and responsibility as the pack's alpha, stepped forward. "What's this about, Bella?"

Jacob stood nearby, his expression guarded. Bella's frustration boiled over, and she finally confronted him, "You've been avoiding me, Jacob. I want to know why."

Jacob hesitated, his gaze shifting between Bella and his pack members. But it was Paul who decided to speak, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well, maybe it's because we've got more important things to do than hang out with vampires."

Bella's eyes widened in shock. She had heard the legends, but this was the first time someone from the Quileute tribe had openly referred to the Cullens as vampires.

A tense silence hung in the air, broken only by Jared's uneasy cough. Jacob's features hardened as he faced Bella, the truth finally out in the open. "Yes, Bella, we know what your family is. We know they're the cold ones."

(Y/N), who had remained quiet until now, felt the tension rise to a breaking point. Her magical abilities had always been a closely guarded secret, but she couldn't stand by as the situation escalated.

Before anyone could react, Bella, driven by anger and hurt, slapped Paul across the face. It was an instinctive reaction, but the consequences were immediate. Paul's body began to tremble, and within moments, he transformed into a massive, russet-colored wolf.

Chaos erupted as the other wolves reacted, growling and snapping at the sudden threat. Jacob, acting on instinct to protect Bella, shifted into his wolf form and leaped between Paul and the girls.

(Y/N), her magical powers flaring to life, sensed the impending danger. She stepped forward, raising her hands, and a shimmering magical shield sprang into existence, surrounding Bella and Jacob, protecting them from the agitated wolves.

The standoff continued for a tense moment until Sam, as the pack's leader, barked a command, and the wolves reluctantly backed down. (Y/N) slowly lowered the shield, and the tension in the air dissipated.

Bella and Jacob were left staring at each other, the truth now laid bare.

The tension in the forest eased as Sam, the alpha of the Quileute wolf pack, intervened and calmed the agitated wolves. He beckoned everyone to follow him back to his cabin, where they could talk more openly.

Jacob turned to Bella, his expression pained. "Bella, try not to stare at Emily too much."

(Y/N) caught Jacob's words and glanced at Bella with curiosity. She followed Jacob's gaze to a woman named Emily who was standing nearby. Bella's reaction was immediate; she was taken aback by the scars on Emily's face.

As they entered Sam's cabin, Bella couldn't help but ask, "What happened to her?"

Sam, understanding the girls' confusion, began to explain. "Emily's scars are a result of a shifter's transformation gone wrong. It's a risk we face when we shift. Sometimes, accidents happen."

(Y/N) listened intently, and as she looked at Emily, her mind flashed back to her own past. She remembered the pain of the flames, the burns on her body, and the scars she had carried before Carlisle had turned her into a vampire. It was a painful memory she rarely revisited.

Sam continued, "We're not just ordinary humans, Bella. We're shape-shifters. We transform into wolves. We've known about the cold ones, the vampires, for a long time, and there's a history of conflict between our kind."

Bella's eyes widened, realizing that the tension between Jacob's pack and her family was deeply rooted. It was a revelation that left her with more questions than answers.

Then, Sam turned to (Y/N), his gaze intense. "And what about you? You smell human, but not quite."

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before she decided to share her truth. "I'm not just a vampire. I'm also a witch. Carlisle turned me during the Salem Witch Trials to save my life, but I retained my magic."

The room fell silent as Sam processed this revelation. The other members of the pack, including Paul, who had calmed down, overheard the conversation and entered the cabin.

Paul, still uneasy about (Y/N), voiced his concerns. "Sam, she's dangerous. A vampire-witch hybrid? Who knows what she's capable of?"

Sam raised a hand, silencing Paul. He turned back to (Y/N), his eyes steady. "Explain. How do you use your magic?"

(Y/N) took a deep breath and began to recount the story of the Salem Witch Trials, how she had been condemned, and how Carlisle had turned her to save her life. She spoke of the magic she had retained and how she had learned to harness it, to control it.

As her story unfolded, the tension in the room began to ease. Sam and the rest of the pack listened with rapt attention, realizing that (Y/N) was not a threat but someone who had suffered and survived against all odds.

As the conversation in Sam's cabin continued, the atmosphere began to relax, and the tension that had filled the room started to dissipate. The Cullen and the Quileute pack shared stories and experiences, forging a fragile understanding. However, a new presence entered the room, and the dynamics shifted once more.

The door swung open, and Seth Clearwater entered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Got caught up in patrol duty."

He started to explain further but stopped abruptly as his eyes locked onto (Y/N)'s. Time seemed to stand still for Seth as he made eye contact with her, and a series of vivid flashes inundated his mind.

He saw himself dating (Y/N), their laughter echoing through the forest as they went on hikes, their hands intertwined. He saw tender moments of them kissing under the moonlight, their love stronger than anything he had ever imagined. He even saw himself undergoing a transformation, becoming immortal through (Y/N)'s magic, so they could live out their lives together.

The sudden influx of images left Seth bewildered, his heart racing. He stumbled over his words, his apology fading into silence. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a future he had never known he wanted.

The room fell silent as everyone turned their attention to Seth. It didn't take long for Sam to realize what had occurred. He approached Seth, his expression knowing. "Seth, you've imprinted."

Seth nodded, still dazed by the overwhelming experience. He couldn't tear his gaze away from (Y/N), who had a bewildered yet sympathetic expression on her face.

Bella, having experienced imprinting with Jacob, understood the gravity of the situation. She leaned over to whisper to (Y/N), "It's a Quileute thing. He can't help it. It's like he's bound to you now."

(Y/N) nodded in understanding, feeling a mix of surprise and sympathy for Seth. She had witnessed how powerful imprinting could be and how it could affect someone's life.

Seth, still recovering from the shock, couldn't help but act like a lovesick puppy around (Y/N). He smiled at her, his gaze lingering, and his actions becoming increasingly attentive. It was clear that his world had shifted, and his focus had become solely centered on her.

The room settled back into conversation, but Seth's newfound devotion to (Y/N) remained evident. He was drawn to her like a magnet, his presence a constant reminder of the complexities of the supernatural world they inhabited.

As the evening wore on, the Cullen and the Quileute pack continued to exchange stories and experiences, but now there was an added layer of understanding and acceptance. The bonds forged between them grew stronger, and they realized that in a world filled with secrets and supernatural forces, connections could form in the most unexpected and profound ways.

Bella and (Y/N) headed back to the Cullens' house, the forest surrounding them bathed in the gentle light of the moon. Bella pulled up to the driveway, and (Y/N) stepped out of the car, her thoughts lingering on the revelations of the evening.

As she watched Bella drive off, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. She had made new friends, but she was aware of the complications that could arise from her interactions with the outside world. Her hybrid nature, a blend of vampire and witch, held secrets that she needed to protect.

Entering the Cullens' home, (Y/N) was immediately surrounded by her family. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper all gathered around her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

"Where have you been, (Y/N)?" Carlisle's voice held a hint of anger, but also a deep concern. He had always been protective of her, knowing the dangers of the human world and the risks associated with her true nature being exposed.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, her gaze meeting Carlisle's. "I've been hanging out with Bella and Jacob and some new friends I made."

Carlisle's concern deepened. "New friends? (Y/N), you know the risks. Your true nature, both as a vampire and a witch, could be exposed to humans."

(Y/N) nodded, understanding his worries but also eager to share her experiences. "I know, Carlisle, but I've been careful. And I've learned a lot about the Quileute culture and the challenges they face."

Carlisle couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. He was angry that Bella had taken (Y/N) without informing anyone, concerned about the risks, but also happy that his daughter had made friends outside their family.

However, his world was about to be shaken once more. (Y/N) noticed the change in her father's demeanor and decided it was time to reveal the most significant development of the evening.

"I have something to tell you," she began, her voice tinged with a hint of infatuation. "I've been imprinted on."

Carlisle's eyes widened in shock. "Imprinted? By whom?"

(Y/N) smiled, a lovesick expression in her eyes. "Seth Clearwater."

The room fell silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. Carlisle realized that his younger daughter had formed a bond that was far deeper and more profound than any ordinary friendship. He knew that an imprint was a powerful connection, one that couldn't be broken.

As (Y/N) continued to share the story of her evening and the imprint, Carlisle's world came crashing down. He had always known that his family's supernatural existence came with complexities, but the idea of his daughter being infatuated with a young shifter left him with a mix of emotions—concern, worry, and a touch of sadness for the challenges that lay ahead.

The Cullens, a family bound by love and acceptance, now faced a new chapter in their extraordinary lives, one that would test their bonds and their ability to navigate the intricate web of supernatural connections.

[rcarrionplacev2]

READ WARRIORS BOOKS ONLINE 2

The Prophecies Begin

Into the Wild

Fire and Ice

Forest of Secrets

Rising Storm

A Dangerous Path

The Darkest Hour

The New Prophecy

Midnight

Moonrise

Dawn

Starlight

Twilight

Sunset

Power of Three

The Sight

Dark River

Outcast

Eclipse

Long Shadows

Sunrise.txt

Omen of the Stars

The Fourth Apprentice

Fading Echoes

Night Whispers

Sign of the Moon

The Forgotten Warrior

The Last Hope

Dawn of the Clans

The Sun Trail

Thunder Rising

The First Battle

The Blazing Star

A Forest Divided

Path of Stars

Super Editions

Firestar's Quest

Bluestar's Prophecy

SkyClan's Destiny

Crookedstar's Promise

Yellowfang's Secret

Tallstar's Revenge

Bramblestar's Storm

Moth Flight's Vision

Novellas

Hollyleaf's Story

Mistystar's Omen

Cloudstar's Journey

Tigerclaw's Fury

Leafpool's Wish

Dovewing's Silence

Mapleshade's Vengeance

Goosefeather's Curse

Ravenpaw's Farewell

Manga

Graystripe's Adventure 1: The Lost Warrior

Graystripe's Adventure 2: Warrior's Refuge

Graystripe's Adventure 3: Warrior's Return

Ravenpaw's Path 1: Shattered Peace

Ravenpaw's Path 2: A Clan in Need

Ravenpaw's Path 3: The Heart of a Warrior

SkyClan and the Stranger 1: The Rescue

SkyClan and the Stranger 2: Beyond the Code

SkyClan and the Stranger 3: After the Flood

The Rise of Scourge

Tigerstar and Sasha 1: Into the Woods

Tigerstar and Sasha 2: Escape from the Forest

Tigerstar and Sasha 3: Return to the Clans

Guides

Secrets of the Clans

Cats of the Clans

Code of the Clans

Battles of the Clans

The Ultimate Guide

[anjelicawrites]

Respite

Paring: Michael Gavey x reader

Synopsis: you and Michael are swamped by finals, when you realize he needs a hand to unwind from all that stress.

Warnings: daddy kink, public sex (blowjob in a, university library), degradation, hair pulling, skull fucking, fingering.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

A/N 2: this stemmed from this question. It can be read as following piece to Fun to be had or as a standalone piece.

You know Michael, you’ve witnessed how obsessive he can become while studying, how hard he works himself. And how frustrated and tired he ends up being.

It’s the little things that alert you: the tapping of the foot on the floor, the huffs of impatience when his mind isn’t working as fast as he wants it to, his fingers tapping on the ancient wood of the table you two are sharing.

You lift your head from the book you’ve been studying when his hands leaves yours.

It’s a stupid thing, but you always hold his free hand while studying (you two are facing one another all the time). He had huffed a bit, the first few times you reached towards him and curled your fingers with his, as of late, he’s been the one to take your hand, without saying anything.

You follow his movements with your eyes and see the nervous way his fingers are tapping on one of his tomes. Oh baby, you think. This exam is particularly hard, for this reason he’s been slaving in the library, because this class is one of the few that truly pose a challenge to his bright mind and he’s enrolled in with his academic rival (yes, your boyfriend is the kind of smart idiot who has an academic rival), which means he has to be the best and get the highest mark. To achieve is goal Michael is focusing everything he has on this exam, studying more than what’s on the syllabus, and he’s burning himself out.

He’s so busy he doesn’t even hear you stand up and walk around the table to stand by his side; when your hand, lightly, touches his shoulder, he jumps out of his skin, surprised, biting on a curse.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper to his furrowed brow. “Come on. Let me help you.”

For a second you see that he doesn’t understand, this level of math being too complicated for you, therefore how can you help? Then his mind makes the connection and he realizes with what you’re offering and hand with; yes, he definitely needs you.

On swift feet you two hide in the darkest corner of this side of the library. Since you two have almost risked to be caught, you are both trying to play it safe. No one comes here and, since that faithful night, there’s only one table left, which has become unofficially yours. Yet, there’s the librarians and the nook where the table is, doesn’t offer enough cover for what you’re about to do.

You can feel how warm Michael’s hand is and a bit sweaty, a light tremor coursing through the muscles. Your poor baby is reaching the end of his tether and you can’t wait for this exam to be over; he has some more, none of the remaining for this semester is as hard as this one, and then the holidays await.

Michael follows you, his fingers in yours, his eyes drawn by the gentle way your hips sway as you pull him to your most hidden corner, the one where nobody comes, but you two, and not for reading the old tomes.

With a fluid movement you fall on your knees, your hands going for his fly, swiftly unzipping it to let his half-hard, clothed cock out: your mouth waters.

You’re probably setting feminism back a few centuries by enjoying sucking cock the way you do, but it’s the truth: having your boyfriend use and abuse your mouth drenches your core and helps you unwind from your own tension, there’s nothing wrong with that!

“My cock is not even in your mouth and you’ve already lost all brain cells, haven’t you, pretty thing?”

Michael’s voice is a low rumble that goes straight to your core, you can feel your slick pooling there, your hole clenching around nothing.

“I’m sorry daddy.” You answer, eyes downcast, your hands falling on your thighs.

“And why should I let you suck my cock, uh?”

Michael’s hand is in your hair, his hold strong to stop you from moving, his eyes cold behind his glasses. You whine, like an animal.

“I’ve asked you a question, or are you too stupid to answer?” He adds, pulling your face backwards and away from his cock.

You have to wet your lips for a second, buying time for your brain to come up with an answer.

“Because I am very good at it.” You manage to blurt out. “And I am the best you’ve ever had.” You add, a pained moan follows when his hand tightens in your tresses.

Your Michael is not happy with your answers; with his free hands is closing the zipper, to your absolute panic.

“Because I need it!” You barely manage to keep your voice under control. “I need to be used. Please fuck my skull, daddy!”

His hands rests on his, partially, closed zipper, his eyes zeroing on your tongue lolling out of your mouth. So pretty and debauched, your hands grabbing the thick material of your own trousers to stop yourself from reaching to him, your hips canting against thin air; it would be a shame to waste your needy mouth, wouldn’t it?

“That’s better, pretty thing.” His free hand slaps your cheek lightly and you moan. “What a slut you are. Do you want my cock that bad? Take it.”

Your hands fly to his zipper and you hear him hum unhappily. You stop and stare at him with a dumb expression all over your face.

“I never said you could use your hands.” He says coldly, as if his cock isn’t swelling painfully in his briefs.

You want to cry in frustration: you need him to fuck your skull and you need him now!

Desperate your teeth grab the zipper and, laboriously, start lowering it, fighting against his growing cock, your need making your impatient and clumsy.

When your teeth lose their hold for the third time, you hear him huff exasperated and your blood turns into ice.

“What a dumb whore you are.” Michael’s voice is cold. “Do you think I have all the afternoon to waste?”

Angry he pushes your face away, his hands make a quick work of his jeans and briefs, his hard cock in his hand, the tip already leaking.

“I should solve this issue myself, maybe I’ll come all over your face. What do you say? Any input from your stupid brain?”

Your eyes stare at the ground, your whole demeanor is as submissive as possible as you try not to cry.

“Whatever you want makes me happy, daddy.” It’s so difficult to say the words when the only thing you truly need is to be used, until he’s satisfied!

Michael’s warm hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin is gentle.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, pretty thing?”

Is voice feels like a hug and you moan: you just want to make him happy and proud!

Without even noticing, your face nuzzles his palm; you can’t see him, he’s smiling at how cute and needy you are.

“Open up. Keep your hands on your tights.” He orders with a gentler voice.

“Yes daddy. Thank you daddy.” You murmur.

Your lips part and you stare at him with glassy eyes, your tongue already out to lick his reddened tip with quick strokes that steal a moan from him. He’s so aroused he’s afraid he’ll come down your delectable throat in no time.

Both his hands cup your face, pressing against your cheeks to make you open up more, which you do gladly, a moan half choked when he starts pushing his cock in, slow strokes as his fingers travel to your hair, to control your movements.

Leisurely, he pushes inside of your waiting mouth as you hollow your cheeks to offer him more friction, he whimpers when your tongue sneaks out to tease his balls and you start humming around him, trying to take more than he’s giving you.

You try to scream around him when he pulls hard on your hair, his cock out of your wanting mouth.

“Dumb bitch that you are.” He spats at you. “I wanted to go slow, for you. Savor your mouth, but you had to think with your useless cunt, instead that using your brain.”

One hand tightens in your hair, pulling painfully, the other grabs his cock to use it to slap your cheeks.

“You’re lucky we’re out and about.” The hand in your hair grabs the strands better, immobilizing you. “Now open up again. Show me you can follow a simple order.”

With that, any gentleness is gone, your mouth invaded ruthlessly by his cock, his hands forcing you down his length without finesse, his ears deaf to your chocking on it, his bulbous head pushing against the back of your throat, until you open up and he can fuck you with abandon, grinding against your face as lewd sounds leave your lips and breathing becomes harder and harder.

He doesn’t care, the tightness of your throat is delicious, the sounds you are making spur him on even more, one hand around your neck to feel himself fucking you, the fingers curling with every push in, your face a mess of tears, make up and spit.

He releases you and you almost fall against him, lost as you are in the pleasure you have been giving him, your lungs desperate for hair don’t register in your brain, the fact that he hasn’t come yet and that you need him to fuck your throat even more, does.

“You are supposed to be smart.” His voice is cold and cruel. “Yet, when your mouth is full of my cock you become a desperate cumdump.”

You are still too confused to string an answer, you can barely nod, mouth open, spit seeping out.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

Has he? Your brain is floating a bit; it’s only thanks to his fingers smearing the mess of spit and precome and makeup all over your face, that you start to come back to yourself.

“Shall I come on your face or shoot it down your throat?”

“My chest, please daddy?” You ask, voice sweet and pleading.

Michael has to lean against the heavy bookcase: the idea of you going around the rest of the afternoon with his come all over your skin blanks his brain and turns his knees into jelly. Everyone will see you prim and proper again, and your clothes will hide your dirty, little secret, the knowledge makes his head spin.

“For a dumb slut, you are pretty smart.”

His words are cruel, his voice holds his appreciation for you, and you preen, hands flying to your shirt to bare yourself to him.

You are wearing a simple cotton bra, yet he has to curl his fingers around his base, or he’ll come without control just imagining his seed all over your breasts.

“Suck me, pretty thing.” He orders, breathless.

And by God you do! Cheeks hollowed to offer him as much friction as possible, one hand caressing his balls, the other jacking what you are not fitting in your mouth, his fingers guiding your movements against his jerking hips, your eyes never leaving his as he’s losing himself in the lewd, wet sounds you are making, for him and him only.

“Mine.” Comes out like a growl. “All mine.”

You want to tell him that you are, that you belong to him and him only, but his hands force you again down his length to fuck your throat raw, fast pushes as you hum, fingers playing with his heavy balls.

With a grunt he exits your mouth to jack himself fast, before coming all over your chest with a low moan, ropes and ropes of come adorning your skin like sinful pearls.

Breathless he falls on the floor and you find refuge in his arms, your lips seeking his in a searing kiss, his own taste mixed with yours has him moan and whimper against your mouth.

You remain like this, huddled in one another, on the cold floor, until his legs stop trembling and you are capable of talking again. Gently he cleans the mess on your face and closes your shirt with slow fingers.

“Thank you.” He manages.

“Do I look like I’ve been sucking cock?”

“No. You look radiant.”

And you do, even when you grimace the second you register the wetness in your panties; Michael groans inwardly: all that sweet nectar he can’t taste, not before your finals are over, following your request. He can’t wait to drown in your juices: he’s going to give back, with interests, until you are so overstimulated that it hurts to keep going, that’s the gift you’ve promised him for his hard work.

“Can you walk?”

Gone is the cruel inflection of his voice, now he’s just your boyfriend, who loves you more than anything and will gift you the stars, if only you asked.

“Yeah. Hold my hand?”

Those fingers that so cruelly had maneuvered your head and pulled your hair, now are gently entwined with yours as you two walk back to your table, your legs still a bit wobbly and your knees sore, but it’s worth knowing that now Michael is more focused, and you are as well.

You’re going to spend the weekend at Michael’s, because your roommate is going to have people over and party on Saturday night, and you don’t want to have to deal with that, not when you have so much to study. And you would never pass on the opportunity to spend time with your boyfriend, even if it’s just to sleep and hit the books, the two of you dancing too close to the knife edge of burnout to care about having full on penetrative sex; at the moment, you sucking him it’s just a mean to and end for you two: decompress.

When you exit the bathroom, wearing one of his oversized jumpers and loose gym bottoms, Michael is already in bed, his glasses folded on the crammed bed side table, his face illuminated by the small lamp perched on top of a column of books; his eyes are closed, but you know he is not asleep, not yet, his breathing not shallow for someone already in Morpheus’ embrace.

Gently, you pull down the covers and slide into the too small bed for two people, thanking God Oliver is not coming back and you and Michael can have have this sliver of peace.

Michael’s arm sneaks around your middle and pushes you as close as possible to his body, his long nose breathing in the smell of his shampoo in your hair.

Slowly, his hand makes way downwards, his fingers finding the hem of your bottoms to slide where the warm skin of your thigh is, and move over your clothed mound.

“Michael…” You moan, a shiver coursing through your body.

“Shh, pretty thing. You need this, I can feel how tense you are.”

And he’s right; you exams this semester aren’t awfully hard, there’s just a lot of them, to the point you feel like you’re playing whack-a-mole: you pass one, other two more pop up!

You move your leg over his to grant him more space, his fingers slipping under the cheap cotton of your briefs. And he doesn’t move.

“Daddy!” It comes out more whiney that you thought.

“Tell me what you need and I might give it to you, pretty thing.”

For the longest second you feel embarrassed to ask, after all, you’ve been raised in quite the strict household, where sex education didn’t exist. As much as you’ve managed to shrug off your upbringing, some things are difficult to overcome.

“Please, touch me?”

“But I am touching you, sweet thing.”

Oh God, the mirth in his voice makes you quiver. His hand moves to the junction of your thigh and you panic.

“See? That’s what I am doing. You need to be more specific than that.”

You close your eyes, the warmth of embarrassment spreading all over your body.

“Please, fuck my pussy with your fingers? Daddy please?”

Michael’s lips find your neck, where he leaves a small kiss that makes you shiver with pleasure.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it, sweet thing?”

Agonizingly slow his long fingers move back to your cunt, goosebumps exploding on their path, wetness already forming at your entrance.

"Your cunt is so hungry I don't even need to touch it and it's ready for me."

There's no mirth in his words, he's in awe of your body and what it can do.

His index finger touches your clit, a gentle clockwise motion that has you moan, hips following his movements. 

"So wet, sweet thing." His voice is a low rumble in your ear.

"Only for you. Ah!"

You whimper when his index and middle finger find your hole to scoop your juices there and then return to your clit, his motions now slightly faster now that you are absolutely drenched. 

"Daddy!!!"

"Shh, sweet thing, feel me."

And God you do! All your attention, all your nerves seem to converge to your engorged clitoris, his touches spark light bolts of pleasure everywhere in your body. Your center so slippery it's easy for his fingers to enter your hungry hole, thumb on your clit, the motions rougher there now that he's found your g spot as well, rubbing the rougher patch, scissoring his fingers so that you'd whine, your wetness leaking on his palm. 

Your hips move without your control, your whole body curling around his hand, begging, desperate sounds escape your lips as he eggs you on, his voice fucking with your brain as his fingers fuck your cunt hard and fast, the squelching sounds your cunt makes, add to the coil in your tummy, your hand grabs his wrist, nails scratching the skin there, until you come, chocking on a scream, breathless as he helps you come down from this incredible high. 

Michael's body curls around yours as you shake, his long arms around your middle, legs interwoven with yours, lips kissing your nape gently. 

"Thank you, sweetest." 

He says with gentleness and awe in his voice. He's so beyond lucky to have you. 

When's he's positive you're back to yourself, he exits the bed, making sure you're safe under the covers, to retrieve a small cloth and clean you up, mindful of how sensitive your lower lips still are. 

"I love you Michael."

"I love you too."

And he does and despises that the English language can't truly carry how he feels about you, how important you are for him, how he would crumble without you by his side. 

Sleepily you hug him, your head under his chin, his arms tight around your body; you feel like you're surrounded by him, the love of your life. 

You're safe here, in the cocoon of his bed sheets. Finals be dammed!

[outofconcheol]

Exit West (LMH x F!Reader) - Teaser

pairing: Minho x f!reader (afab) genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, post-apocalyptic au (based on the Netflix series Sweet Home), 18+ summary: Even when the world is plunged into its darkest hour, you find the faintest light in Minho.

warnings: mentions blood and injuries, food scarcity

word count: 580 for the teaser, anticipated 3k-4k for fic

a/n: happy valentines day, i'm here to break your heart! this was just an idea I had after I finished Sweet Home 2 (let's not talk about it ok). i'm not sure when this will be out, but i am trying to work on it every day so pls look forward to it (and let me know if you want to be tagged)!

The sharp wire of the metal fence cuts into Minho’s palms, digging into his mottled skin, and he braces himself for the jump. Leaping over, Minho lands silently on his feet, skills honed from many years of observing his cats take the same leap from couches or counters. But none of that existed anymore.

His eyes remain sharp, taking in the cover of woods around him, and he remembers that while the trees helped him stay hidden, they hid the monsters from his sight as well. No sooner than he’s managed to calm down the ever-present racing of his heart, he’s swinging the door to the bunker open, closing it quietly behind him.

Wincing, he examines the cuts on his palms, tinged with dirty specks of rust. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep doing this, knowing the small supply of rubbing alcohol he’d managed to collect over the past few months was now down to the last bottle. And there was no more to be found.

The small bit of sunlight that streams in through the barely-qualifying window illuminates your sleeping figure nestled amongst a pile of dirty blankets, and Minho almost hesitates to disturb you like this. You look so peaceful like this, a stark contrast to the emptiness that fills your eyes when you wake, the pain of living through two starkly different lifetimes contained in their depths. He knows his eyes hold the same.

“___,” he shakes you awake gently, watching you stir. The gashes that mar your face have begun to scab over, leaving ugly scars in their wake.

“I brought dinner.”

That gets you to jolt up, rubbing sleepily at your eyes. 

“Are you okay? Anything hurt?” You shake your head, a small frown on your face when you see the fresh red marks that litter his palms. He has the feeling you’re lying to him again, but he doesn’t push it. A lot went unspoken between you two.

Minho wordlessly hands you over a full sleeve of crackers, your eyes lighting up. You chomp down eagerly on one, before pausing, holding it out to him.

“I already ate,” he lies, knowing he didn’t want you to sacrifice any kind of meal for his sake. He’d eat the less full sleeve when you fell back asleep.

Moments of silence pass between you, the soft sounds of your eating lulling Minho’s tired eyes to fall, becoming heavy with sleep. He rests his head on his knees, fighting back the shiver that night brought with it. 

A deafening roar breaks through the stillness, and you freeze, dropping the crackers to the ground. Minho is by your side in an instant, hand tentatively reaching out towards your shoulder. But he never closes the gap.

“Ten seconds,” you croak out, so softly that Minho thinks he might not have heard you. “If the distance that sounds travel is 343 metres per second, then ten seconds means that it’s far enough away from us.”

The ghost of a smile twitches at Minho’s lips, and he wants to praise your sharp skills, considering he’d only ever been a pabo, but you’ve turned around and fallen asleep again, your back to him.  Minho settles into the blankets across from you, watching you for a few minutes before his body is weighed down by the exhaustion of the day, knowing the exact same thing waited tomorrow.

The end of the world was more boring than he’d expected it to be.

a/n pt 2: i hope you’re as excited as I am! i don't really have an anticipated release date for this, but it's just something i'm working on for fun!

[undead-supernova]

What is worse than falling in love while the world tries to tell your story for you? You're just another female popstar, ruined by the media's narrative, trying to make it through each day with none other than Corroded Coffin's Eddie Munson.

Will you ever be out of the woods? Will you ever been in the clear? In a world full of cages, boxes, and guns...will you run? Or must you fight to defy the impact of their sticks and stones? And if given the chance, will you stay?

Pairing: modern!rockstar!Eddie x popstar!fem!reader (bisexual!reader, curvy!reader)

Contains: boyfriend!Eddie, body shaming, slut shaming, a shit ton of Taylor Swift easter eggs, forever bisexual!Eddie, equal parts hurt and comfort, (reader is NOT modeled after Taylor Swift, the story is centered around her storytelling in 1989, rep, and Lover), the rumors are terrible and cruel, but honey most of them are true

Easter egg count so far: 204

✴︎ Chapter 1 - (Self-Titled)

✴︎ Chapter 2 - Miss Heartbreak

✴︎ Chapter 3 - The Room Burned Down

✴︎ Chapter 4 - A Delicate Need

✴︎ Chapter 5 - And All At Once

✴︎ Chapter 6 - Island Breeze in the Dead of Night

✴︎ Chapter 7 - Monsters in the Darkest Dark

✴︎Chapter 8 - Follow the Fever Dream

✴︎ Chapter 9 - This Love is a Shrouded Mystery

✴︎ Chapter 10 - Right Here, Right Now

✴︎ Chapter 11 - For Worse or For Better

✴︎ Chapter 12 - coming soon

✴︎ Chapter 13 - coming soon

[lycawoon]

The Darkest Woods 2 (2018)

[aurorabyler]

Flashbacks in Stranger Things: When, Why, and How They Are Used (Long Analysis)

sit back and relax everyone. this is gonna be my longest post yet.

disclaimer before anyone proceeds--i have not tagged this post with any relationships other than byler so if you do not like this pairing please just scroll past this post! i never cross tag because i truly want a safe fandom space for everyone. this is just my analysis of the show and my own brainrot.

I’ve thought about the usage of flashbacks in Stranger Things a lot over the past few weeks. I saw a post by user @girlskth on Twitter (HUGE shoutout to them for this very eye-opening post, please go check it out their tweet and give them all the love!!), who mentioned the contrast between Max’s scene in Dear Billy (running up that hill → from Vecna), versus El being trapped by the vines in 4x09.  First: we need to talk about flashbacks as they have been used throughout film and TV history as a key literary device. Here are some articles that I found that explain why flashbacks can be so important to understanding characters:

This quote is vital:

"Flashbacks are really a function of character, not story…the visual image we’re seeing is what the character is thinking and feeling at that present moment…it illuminates a character’s point of view.”

Flashbacks are never pointlessly placed. There is always an intent behind reverting back to the old material to demonstrate something about the character’s current mindset. 

These two scenes are clearly parallels (complete credits to @girlskth for bringing this up), as both Max and El are encountering the same situation–being trapped in Vecna’s lair and hearing a monologue from him. The scenes are not only plot parallels but visual ones.

However, there is one thing lacking in this parallel, and @girlskth brilliantly points out what it is—their emotional connection. Max relies on flashbacks of her happiest memories to free herself from Vecna’s trance and come back to reality. There are MANY flashbacks of her platonic relationships (her friendship with El being the most significant), and her romantic relationship with Lucas, which is ultimately what gives her enough time to run away from Vecna.

Now, going into El’s scene, I as a viewer was EXPECTING that they would show flashbacks of El’s happy memories with Mike during his monologue. This is coming from someone who does not ship these two characters together at all.

I like them as friends, and I was still waiting for them to show us moments from their kiss at the snowball, from Mike giving Eleven the name “El,” from Mike calling her for 353 days in season 2, from Mike saying “No, El, you’re not the monster–you saved me,” from El saying she loves him at the end of season 3…but nothing. 

Absolutely no flashbacks were shown apart from the scene of the boys finding El in the woods. This is extremely odd for a couple who has supposedly been the centrepiece of Stranger Things for four seasons, or, in the words of people who ship these characters, have been “built up for four seasons.” But no. Nothing.

This is an INSANE contrast to Max’s Dear Billy scene, which went out of its way to show her history with all of these characters over the 3 seasons her character has been in the show. 

The concept of “show, don’t tell,” is critical in understanding this parallel. Take Max’s relationships that are highlighted when she is in Vecna’s trance: these flashbacks all occur because she knows they will give her strength. She is never verbally prompted to think about these memories because she has confidence they will help her fight in her darkest moment. Here’s some more information on show don’t tell and how it is used in media:

If we apply Max's unconcious logic to El’s scene in Vecna’s lair, being able to pull from her happy memories with Mike should have been something that came relatively naturally to her. Except, this didn’t happen. What did happen? El’s memories with Max DID come naturally, and those memories ultimately saved Max’s life.

Zero Flashbacks to Mike/El's Past Seasons' Dynamic

While waiting for volume two, even as someone who likes this pairing platonically, I was excited to see flashbacks to season 1 Mike/Eleven once they reunited at the Nina Project. I’ll always be nostalgic for seasons 1 and 2 and I wanted to see some of their friendship dynamics from those seasons come back. I was literally expecting there to be some sort of “still pretty?” flashback, or some other cut back to season one. Again, I am saying all of this entirely as someone who 100% believes in a byler endgame for this show. I was still very surprised by this, and it is clearly intentional on the writer’s part.

Some would argue that the lack of flashbacks is due to the varying perspectives in Mike’s monologue scene. We see Mike’s, Will’s, El’s, and Jonathan’s POVs switching between each other in this scene. When peeling back the layers, we learned that Mike's monologue utilizes the miscommunication trope in a big way. Let’s analyze:

Mike is under the impression, because of Will, that “these past few months she (El) has been so lost without you…You make her feel like she’s not a mistake at all–like she’s better for being different. And that gives her the courage to fight on.” —Will, 4x09

First and foremost: Mike’s monologue would not have happened without Will’s veiled confession in the van. He believes Will’s feelings are El’s, and it is these feelings that make him think that what he says is what El needs to hear. 

Mike is TOLD (not sure if he entirely believes it especially after the final scene in the cabin when El walks away from him, but we’ll have to wait for more scripts to see the truth), that El has been “lost” without him and that she “needs” him to be able to fight.

This is what he is TOLD by Will about El, and this is not true, as NOWHERE during any of El’s scenes at school in California, or once Mike comes to visit, or during her time at the Nina Project, or during her battles with the military + Vecna does El EVER give the impression that she somehow needs Mike in her life to keep fighting, or that he gives her courage. In fact, given all of the parallels El draws between Mike's "what did you do?" and Brenner's "what have you done?" I would say what Mike gives her is the opposite of courage.

El keeps fighting because she has come into herself and she is powerful and strong, not because she needs Mike there to help her. And Mike, prior to Will’s confession, knows this is the truth, as seen by the line in the official script that was cut out from the show: 

If El truly needed Mike to “fight on,” as Will implies with his own feelings, I believe that more flashbacks would have been utilized, regardless of the multiple perspectives in the scene, to show how Mike has supposedly helped El “fight” in the past. But none of this was shown BECAUSE El’s battles have always been about her personal arc and growth. In the past seasons, El has never relied on or needed Mike to help her fight–he has been misled because of Will’s veiled confession. 

Perhaps the best example of El’s battles being about her own growth is in the 2x09 scene where she closes the gate: you'll see here that all the flashbacks she has during this critical battle have to do with her personal growth and past trauma. The same is true of her fight with the Demogorgon in season 1, of learning from Kali in season 2, of fighting Billy and the Mind Flayer in season 3--her relationship with Mike is not critical to any of these battles. It is her friendships and familial love that motivates her as well as her own coming of age.

The miscommunication about El "needing" Mike to be able to "fight" explains a lot of things, including, at least to an extent why Mike VISIBLY HESITATED when saying “I love you” for the first time in his monologue. There are obviously other reasons to this that have been analyzed by many other people, but I feel this miscommunication is critical.

This is something that has really been annoying me ever since season 4 came out: the whole plotline about Mike not being able to say he loves El should be extremely clear to audiences about what it implies. I love romance and I KNOW that the Duffers can write amazing love stories (Lumax, Jancy, Jopper…).

Lucas and Max never once say they love each other but it is clear to audiences–they SHOW it in their own ways. 

True love is shown, not told–especially in media.

That is how the most popular romantic pairings are so believable to audiences. Showing, not telling your love for someone, makes it feel real. And boom: ever since season 3 and ESPECIALLY after season 4, there have been hundreds of thousands of people saying that Mike/El's dynamic seems "off" somehow.

My point here is that if you love someone unconditionally, if you are truly, deeply in love with them, you would not hesitate for a moment to say that you love them, especially if they practically beg you to say it while crying about that very fact. You would also not call them “ridiculous” after they start crying and then you proceed to deflect blame about a situation you caused onto other people. 

Love is powerful. To me, it’s one of the most powerful things that exists in this world. And I believe that the writers of this show feel the same way: Love Conquers All. I’ll insert one of my favourite quotes from Avatar: The Last Airbender to display how I feel about this topic:

"You have indeed felt a great loss. But love is a form of energy, and it swirls all around us. The air nomads' love for you has not left this world. It is still inside of your heart, and is reborn in the form of new love." -Guru Pathik, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Real, romantic love is never something that should be questioned at critical moments. Let me emphasize: I do not question that Mike platonically loves El. He clearly loves her a great amount as shown by what he has gone through with her over the course of the show, just as he loves Lucas, Dustin, Max, Nancy, etc. 

Millie literally said in an interview for ST4 that “Mike is not loving Eleven the way she wants to be loved.” This situation for El is honestly extremely heartbreaking because she truly deserves so much better than what she’s been given. El is one of my favourite characters and I love her dearly, and seeing her suffer because of this relationship as well as the bullying at school hits very close to home for me. She deserves so much happiness and I hope she gets to have endless amounts of it by the end of season 5. 

How else have flashbacks been used in Stranger Things? 

The article I cited earlier holds true to the Stranger Things writer’s perspective on flashbacks. Remember: "flashbacks are really a function of character, not story…the visual image we’re seeing is what the character is thinking and feeling at that present moment…it illuminates a character’s point of view.” Utilizing flashbacks as a literary device in this manner has been seen multiple times in the show at key character moments. 

Will and Joyce

This flashback is key to showing Joyce's relationship with her son and how much she loves him. It holds true to the article in that it SHOWS that while searching for Will, she thinks back to the time they spent together in Castle Byers.

Jonathan and Will

Jonathan's relationship with Will is key to season one and remains one of the most beautiful parts of Stranger Things. This flashback, just like the ones with Max and Joyce, happens naturally. Jonathan associates The Clash with Will and can't help thinking back to their happy memories together once he hears the song play. This simple scene shows the depth of their relationship.

Hopper and Sarah

In my opinion, this is by far the most effective use of flashback Stranger Things has used to date. When I watched season 1 in 2016, this was the scene that made me cry my eyes out. I still think about it to this day as the catalyst that started my long-running love for this show. While trying to revive Will, Hopper is reminded of his daughter Sarah's struggle with cancer which led to her death. This flashback is a perfect representation of Hopper's development.

Hopper's arc in seasons 1 and 2 was one of my favourite things to watch: he starts as someone cold and isolated who drowns himself in drugs and alcohol to cope with his past trauma. Eventually, he learns to love again in all sorts of ways once Joyce comes back into his life. Hopper's drive to find Will and his love for Joyce inadvertently led him to El, and as he says in season 3:

"For so long, I'd been stuck in one place...And then, I left some Eggos out in the woods, and you came into my life. And for the first time in a long time, I started to feel things again." -Hopper's Letter, 3x03

In summary: flashbacks are used with intent and to SHOW the audience a character's internal struggles and thoughts. Stranger Things follows the textbook way to use flashbacks effectively, and has clearly been selective for a reason when it comes to which moments they choose to remind us of, as well as when, how, and why these moments are used. They have juxtaposed two very similar scenes and how the characters have escaped from the series' antagonist, Vecna, using these flashbacks/memories to their advantage. The final battle between El and Vecna was driven by El's love for Max. Mike was under the impression that what he said was what El needed to hear because it was veiled in Will's feelings. While these ideas have been widely discussed, showing how flashbacks have been effectively used throughout the show and comparing them to their usage (or lack thereof) in season 4 gives us excellent insights into El's headspace, as well as what the future holds for these characters. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this analysis so I really hope you enjoyed it! Please give it a reblog if you can and leave your thoughts in the comments. I'd love to know your interpretation :) Thank you so much for reading! <3

[jaegersdevil]

˗ˏˋ jaegersdevil's masterlist ˎˊ˗

💋˗ˏˋ 🎸。:*:·ﾟ🎱🧣。:*:·ﾟ🃏ˎˊ˗🐈‍⬛

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[dearshelby]

Deus ex machina | A.S

Summary: When three armed men broke into yours and Arthur's house, you knew you were doomed. You locked your newborn into a room and prayed he'd be spared. When Arthur told you to hide and got rid of the invaders, you didn't believe it. It felt like an unrealistic, badly written book. But life isn't a book, and if Arthur had such skills, there clearly was much about his past you didn't know.

A/N: This was requested by @call-sign-shark <3. I'm kinda nervous because 1. I'm writing for an Arthur professional 2. I finished this with a TERRIBLE headache, so I didn't proofread it. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Prompt “All this time I've been hoping you wouldn't recognize me” + Arthur Shelby.

Even with shaky, sweating hands, you protectively stood in front of your baby's crib. The stiletto you held was the only weapon you believed to have in the house. The room's door was locked and it was the only barrier between you and the war zone outside.

The shadows of three men behind the front door were all you saw before Arthur told you to hide. Then, all you could do was listen, the men's heavy steps, what you assumed was them going through the drawers, how they broke every porcelain decoration and how they knocked down your beloved bookshelf.

If this was a book maybe you wouldn't be so scared, you'd be sure if they got to the room you'd be able to fight, finding strength in the darkest side of motherhood, staining your hands with blood for the baby's sake. However, it wasn't, and even if you'd kill for your child if needed, you knew the chances of getting out alive were few.

To complete the disturbing scenario, you could barely hear Arthur's steps, as if he was gone from the house, abandoning you and the child for his own survival.

Walking closer to the door, you pressed your ear to the wood surface, holding your breath to hear clearly.

“Where's the bastard?” one of the men said.

The dialog continued in a foreign language and suddenly, you jumped away from the door, holding the stiletto in the direction of the noise. Your chest moved up and down worryingly fast as you heard what you assumed a machine gun sounded like.

Shouts were heard followed by a single shot and strong stumbles. Everything went silent. Looking back to the crib, you wondered if you should unlock the door, all the diverse possibilities of what could've happened messed up your mind but eventually, when no other sounds were heard, you knew there was no other option.

Walking out the room as silently as possible, you had to stop the urge of vomiting at the scenario in the living room.

Two men's dark blood covered your beautiful mat, their eyes were still open, glassy and lifeless, not matching the surprised expression on their faces. In the hallway to the kitchen, laid another one, with a knife wound in the ribs and another in his throat.

Before you could call for your husband, water sounds attracted you to the bathroom. There he was, breathing heavily, frenetically washing his hands with a gun near his feet.

“It wasn't supposed to happen,” he drawled, looking at you through the mirror.

You immediately teared up, not sure of how to proceed from there, he had just risked his life to keep you safe but also, he kept this side of him hidden for years. Whoever this man was, it wasn't the Arthur you married. Only when his hand washing got too aggressive, you snapped out of trance.

“It's okay,” you whispered, taking his hands on yours, you washed the blood away while he rested his head on your shoulder.

He brushed his face against your cheek, his mustache scratching your sensitive skin. Intertwining your fingers with his now clean ones, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“What the fuck was that, Arthur?” you got courage to ask.

“I had to do it,”

“I know, but what-” you looked at the gun at your feet, “What the hell is that?”

Staring at it, the world got quiet for a minute, Arthur's blue eyes burnt on you as yours saw nothing but the gun, as if it had come out from a trench itself. To be honest, you wouldn't know how to accurately describe a weapon that was used at war, perhaps it'd be rusty and permanently damaged like the soldiers to handle it.

Or perhaps it wouldn't, so trying to keep the mess your life had just become the clearest as possible, it'd be fairer to say the gun came out from one of the books in the living room, brutality ripped from the pages when the invaders knocked the shelf down.

And of course, as if in the last chapter of a book, the hero Arthur Shelby remembers the gun he conveniently had at home, a little souvenir from his years as a soldier that now would be used to save everyone. What a beautiful, extremely unrealistic ending.

Except that your life wasn't a book and if your husband had reason to keep a machine gun in the house, then he wasn't who you thought he was.

His wet hands gently wrapped around your arms, “It's alright now, love, I'll just call Tommy and we'll know what was that about, eh?”

“Tommy? There are three dead men in my living room and you want to call Tommy?” you scoffed, “Call the police!”

“We can't do that,”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

“Love, I-” he gulped, “I can explain, alright? Come to the kitchen with me and I'll explain everything, we'll have a nice cup of tea and I'll explain,”

“I'm not going out there,” you argued, surely the bathroom wasn't proper to have such a conversation, but you didn't think seeing those corpses again for a single cup of tea was a nice exchange.

“Stay here then, I'll come back in a second,” he walked to the door, looking back at you with apologetic eyes before adding, “I'll be back, alright?”

He was away for only a few seconds, returning with an old newspaper in hand.

“Remember when we just moved and you read the newspaper every day? Remember a Thursday morning you thought it was weird they didn't deliver any?”

He handed it to you, the headline talked about a club being invaded and a man being murdered, below there was a blurry picture of Arthur and John, they looked much younger than the publication date and the journalist explained local gangs were always prime suspects, but were never caught due police bribery.

“All this time I've been hoping you wouldn't recognize me,” he explained.

You gulped, leaning on the sink and putting the newspaper down. How should you even feel about this? Disappointed? Angry? Fooled? Your stomach sank as you squeezed your eyes shut and when you opened it again, Arthur was right in front of you, cupping your face between his calloused hands.

“I never meant to lie to you, I didn't know how to tell and- You'd leave me if I-”

He stopped talking as you pushed his hands away. This time you leaned on the wall a few steps away from him, you touched the gun with your bare feet, even with Arthur's explanation it still didn't make any sense to you.

“Forgive me, love,” he pleaded.

Any answer you could think of was silenced by the baby's cries upstairs. Your throat tightened and you sighed, “Clean this mess, I'll tend the baby.”

“So am I-”

“When you know what this was all about, we'll talk again.”

[aroaessidhe]

okay I was asked about fey books I’ve read that Do stick to folklore a bit more than certain popular books - and actually looking at what fey books I’ve read  it’s a bit like.... books that stick to folklore closely I sometimes Don’t Love, and there are others that don’t stick to it as much but I like the overall narrative more? or some mix of that. 

so here’s a list of a few - a range of how much they stick to folklore (which of course is an amorphous thing) and how much I like them, but it’s something!

YA

That Self-Same Metal - literally just read this, it’s about a Black girl who’s the stage blade expert for shakespeare’s company and can see fey, and they’re appearing more and more in the city. explores a bit of the midsummer night’s dream fey but also like “shakespeare was wrong” and general folklore. definitely the start of a series and has a lot going on but I thought it has some cool ideas!

all Holly Black’s books deal with them well! the Modern Faerie Tales companion/trilogy has maybe aged a bit by now, and I hate way the romance ended up together in The Folk of the Air (and the way the fandom is about it) but otherwise I do really like how it deals with fey and politics! also enjoyed The Darkest Part of the Forest. these are all intertwined/same world

The Buried And The Bound - a hedgewitch girl keeps fey away from her town, and gets caught up with two boys who are cursed. mostly deals with minor fey and a powerful hag

An Enchantment of Ravens - it’s been quite a few years since I read this, but I do remember enjoying it. It is a bit more of a romance focused story also, an artist stolen into the fey realm for painting a fey prince as if he was human(iirc?)

The Bone Houses - not directly dealing with fey, but like the aftermath of the ancient fey’s curses? welsh myth inspired. which I think is cool.

At The Edge of The Woods - about a girl in a religious/patriarchial village who starts to have strange dreams about a fey boy luring her into the woods. it’s not super focused on them, but they’re very much the classic ‘dangerous fey stealing people away for entertainment’ kind of thing

Adult

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries - I sort of have mixed feelings about this - I really enjoy how it dealt with fey and the creepier folklore creatures side of it! the handling of the changeling was a bit iffy and not sure about the romance

The Wolf Among the Wild Hunt - dark fantasy novella about a wolf-shifter made to join the wild hunt to save his qpr. focused on the unseelie/wild hunt area

Silver in the Wood - gaslamp fantasy novella about the keeper of a magical forest, dryads and dangerous fey

The Wind City - a bit of a mashup of fey folklore and Māori atua in a modern NZ setting

Sinners/Veiled - very classic but also with the element of a modern setting where human pollution is like a drug to fey (and the MC is a drug lord.) (so kind of dark but also not dark in the sexy way bc the MC is aroace)

Under The Pendulum Sun - this is a gothic fantasy that has a bit of a new take on a fey world, but also definitely has some of those creepy folklore vibes.

Siren Queen - this only partly involves fey but I thought the way that it mashed up old hollywood and fey (aka shady deals for fame themes) was interesting!

Sorcerer to the Crown/The True Queen - my memory on this is hazy, but I believe it’s regency fantasy, with its own take on a fey world/magic (moreso the 2nd book)

Malice/Misrule - adult high fantasy lesbian sleeping beauty reimagining, this is kind of doing it’s own thing I guess (I don’t remember if they’re even called fey?) but definitely has a bit of the creepy creature/court vibes in book 2 especially

In The Jaded Grove - I was just looking up books to see if there was anything I missed and found this, which seems interesting to me!

I also haven’t read Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell (but I watched the show ages ago) and I believe that has the vibe too

[safe-from-sharp-teeth]

Got anything for other elementals such as shadow, light, lightning, wood/nature, metal or perhaps a fusion of all of them? :O

YOU ARE ENLIGHTENED. Let's see what I can come up with!

~ Part 1 here ~

Elemental Tums Pt. 2

Shadow Elemental: The shadow elemental provides the most familiar of comforts - the same feeling you get when you turn off the lights to sleep. You can hardly recognize where you are when inside one, as you are effectively blind while in the creature's darkest depths. You can feel an unidentifiable liquid around your lower half. It's heavy. You didn't think a liquid could be heavy. Here, you feel truly removed from this world, existing in some sort of pocket out of time and space. There's room to breathe and think and just be without anyone watching here. And so time and time again, you blanket yourself in the shadows and dreamlessly sleep.

Light Elemental: Light. Here, wherever you are, it pours into you from every surface. You can't open your eyes; it's too blinding. You try to shield your face with your arm. You feel like you're in an endless expanse. In fact, besides the blinding light, you can't seem to feel much at all. Is this what being inside of a lightbulb feels like? You thought it'd be hotter, but only a gentle warmth caresses your skin. You curl into yourself. What can you feel? Brightness. Heat. White. It's not necessarily uncomfortable...but certainly introspective.

Lightning Elemental: The chaotic nature of lightning extends into this elemental's insides, yielding a bit of a "festive" flair. You sit in a dark pouch, similar to any other stomach. But when the sound of thunder strikes, your environment rumbles along. Touching the inside of the walls causes a glow to radiate outwards, similar to touching a plasma ball. Wherever your hand moves, the glow follows. Like the inside of the air elemental, you sit in a misty fog of foreboding storm clouds instead of a pool of stomach liquids. Well, they WOULD be foreboding if they weren't so cute and small. Every so often you'd get a light shock from them, making this elemental one of the hardest to fall asleep in.

Wood Elemental: Being inside a wood elemental feels similar to curling up in an old tree hollow. You lie on soft, curved wood, and you carefully run your hands over the textured walls. Closing your eyes, you listen to the whoosh of wind through the hollowed creature outside and the rustling of its leaves. The most uncomfortable aspect is that you're sitting in a pool of clear and sticky sap (that's going to be a pain to get out later), but sneaking a taste...it's quite sweet! Sometimes birds somehow sneak their way inside for a snack.

Metal Elemental: Entering this beast feels like falling down a crack in a ravine - down, down, into the creature's golden, glittering core. You find yourself in the sprawling cave of what must be its innards. A draft blows overhead, and you retreat into the soothing heat of the golden ores surrounding you. It's not rough or sharp, and you find it even a bit malleable if you prod enough. Warm drops of water drip, drip onto your hair from a stalactite far above. If you are lulled to sleep, you may find the tunnels have shifted when you wake.

Cosmic Elemental: I imagine combining every element makes something akin to matter itself, some sort of cosmic...horror...situation. To be consumed by such a creature is to be cradled by the universe. Perhaps we have all felt the brush of the cosmic elemental when it formed us from stardust, and we shall feel it again when we are returned to it. For the short, infinite time in a place where time doesn't exist, you hear the beating heart of the cosmos - and weep.

[kyurizeu]

Saviour. Masterlist(?)

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an: hello! I’m aware that i have another series thats’a not finished, but i started writing this one… it’s not like my usual posts but if u like this stuff i can post chapter 2. <3

Chapter Warnings: su1cide, self hate, crying, depression || later in the whole story there is Smut and fluff. This is a romance story

Chapter one - love, your stupid older brother

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You crumbled the note in your fist into a small ball, your knuckles turning white and red as a tear rolled down your face removing any mascara that could have been left on your tired eyes. You wished you suddenly just would’ve disappeared.. just drift into space and feel peace again. See him again. Apologise to him.

Still— here you were.. sitting in the darkest corner of your messy bedroom, crying.

Many pieces of paper surrounded your shaking curled up body. The room was loud with silence and your sniffles between crying your heart out. Your fist came up to your head and soon was repeatedly going back and forth towards your forehead.

“you.. d..dumb..”

Once you were able to finally take a breath without bursting into tears again, you opened your tired droopy eyes slowly, instantly focusing them on the ground. There was that one evil piece of paper unripped.

“Love, your stupid older brother”

Your face was emotionless. You stared at the paper for minutes, not a single thought crossed your mind, not even processing the words. A single tear ran down your face, it was comforting. It reminded you of his soft caressing of your cheeks when he comforted you. It reminded you of how he always wiped your tears from your eyes when you cried in his arms, something you needed right now. After aggressively wiping your face with your sleeves you brush your hand through your hair and get up, throwing the paper ball onto the ground and quickly leaving the apartment.

The wheels of your bike were wobbling underneath you as you rode off to nowhere. You didn’t even care what you looked like, the fact that it was raining or where you were going, all that mattered was that you needed to leave.

The material of cold wood pressed up against your skin and clothes as you sank down on the ground to lean on a tree, Eyes glued onto the water in front of you. Watching it shine from the reflection of the moonlight made you think if him, making a small smile from on your face. He loved the moon, especially the full moon. You two were always called the sun and moon. Chuckles left your mouth and a new set of tears streamed down your cheeks. You looked like a psychopath.

A couple people walked past, they might have even said something to you but you were too far away from reality to hear or care.

You snapped back to reality instantly when you felt something touch your shoulder.

“A-are you okay..? Miss..?”

You turned your head towards the soft and concerned voice behind you, only to see the most handsome man you’d ever seen.. He had wavy and fluffy brown hair, dark brown boba eyes, rosy plump lips and a heavenly face structure.

Making as little eye contact as possible you instantly got up and bowed a little as a gesture of apology for possibly disturbing him. You were just about to start walking away when he spoke up again. “A-are you okay?” His soft and gentle hand came in contact with your forearm. Your eyes went from his hand to his face all the way to stare dee into his eyes. The eye contact was intense. His eyes were soft, adorable, full of worry and concern. Yours on the other hand were tried and red, a mixture of mascara and tears smudged around them.

“U-umh… yeah. i’m sorry- i uhh…” You muttered with your eyes glued to the ground. you patted some dirt off of your clothes. “Are you sure?” he interrupted you.

You looked up making eye contact with him once again. His small comforting smile and doe eyes made something snap inside of you. You bursted into tears, dropping your head back down towards your feet to cover your face.

“I-it’s okay… um..” he softly placed his hands around yours. “Do you need a place to stay?” He caressed the skin of your palms with his warm fingers.

“Wha… n-no no.. i’m sorry i’m bothering you, sir..” Your eyes widened at the question. “It’s seriously okay.. I live right there”. He pointed at an apartment building near you two. Silence followed as you sniffled out a cry. “You can get cleaned up there… i-i just want to help…”

You have no idea why and how that man got you to agree, but soon you were in his apartment with a glass of water in your trembling hands.

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Tysm for ur support and love! Also tysm for 1000+ likes for 2 posts and 430 followers!