#(the first being 'goblin-sized

[gillyburnsthings]

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Finding it endlessly hilarious that while we got an absolutely stunning glow-up for Pavitr, we simultaneously got the simplification of E50101-Green Goblin

Like. sure. the armour is cool. orange instead of purple. wonderful embossed details. weirdly angular iconic face. he SCREAMS classic Green Goblin and that's perfectly okay

But COME ON they downgraded him from a literal demon!!!!!! He was literally a 1:1 trans-adaption of E1610-Green Goblin!!!!!! They turned a big hulking BEAST who could throw fire and stuff into a Skinny Old Guy

Nalin Oberoi i will avenge you

[shadowkoo]

disgraceful dreams

→ Summary: After two years of lustful pining and disgraceful dreams about someone far out of your reach, you decide the only way to move past your hopeless crush on Onyx Academy's star student is by taking part in the Lupercalia festival for the very first time.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader (feat. yeosang) | 16.4k words | 18+ ↠ genre: witch/warlock au, smut, virgin!reader, inspired by s2e3 of caos, slowburn

→ Full Fic Warnings: little bit of social class discrimination, cult-ish behavior (mentions of blood, Y/N uses a knife to cut her hand for binding/ritual purposes), being ‘hunted’ like prey, explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, praise kink, biting, nipple play, breast play, begging, fingering, mutual masturbation, oral (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, voyeurism, partial agoraphilia & semi-public sex, dirty talk, heavy teasing, spanking, multiple orgasms, grinding, deep dicking, size kink (wooyoung is HUNGGG), magical sex, fucking up against a tree, slight age gap (y/n is 20 and wooyoung is 25), slight corruption, choking, possessive!wooyoung, woo is ravenous for you (you’re welcome)

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @pirateeznet @cromernet

@illusionnet @othersideoutlawsnetwork @cultofdionysusnet

→ Author Note: edited by the lovely aeris @beomcoups whom i appreciate so SO much for tackling this beast of a fic ILY! And also to ally @lovetaroandtaemin for reading this over for me!!! this doesn’t follow the exact lupercalia process, i’ve twisted it to work for my fic and based it around halloween instead of valenbarf day lol, if you'd prefer to read on ao3, it's been crossposted here!! all likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated <3

‘This can’t be real.’

Jung Wooyoung casts a dark look upon you while taking in your ethereal, naked form before him. The flames of the common room’s fireplace dance in his eyes, reflecting his sinister and most impure thoughts. Thoughts of you, what he wants to do to you. With you.

‘I must be dreaming.’

He circles around you, hovering over your backside and letting his hands fall to your bare hips. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

“Mmm, can I touch you?” Wooyoung whispers as he leans in to kiss the dip between your shoulder and neck.

You nod, giving him permission to do whatever he pleases, and lean back against his broad chest.

His hands move from your side, one moving upward to cup your breast, the other heading down between your legs, gently tracing your silky skin until his fingers find their way home and sink into your sweet center.

The sensation awakens you from your sinful slumber, and you sigh, realizing it was only a dream—another delicious and depriving dream that left you wanting someone who would never consider you.

Groaning, you force yourself to roll out of bed and step toward your closet. Black Mass isn’t for another hour, but arriving early might help erase these recurring dreams from your memory.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hall as you exit the residential wing, making your way outside. It’s a beautiful gloomy day, the air is crisp and the sun is hidden by thick clouds that look as if they could open up at any moment and soak the woods with another harsh day of rain - something you wouldn’t mind.

The fog creeps through the forest, following your steps and trailing behind while you wait for your familiar to catch up. Besides your raven’s distant cry, it’s quiet. The hum of the earth’s magic is even more reserved than usual. It’s peacefully eerie.

“Ghoul Morning, Blair,” you say, extending your wrist out for her. She caws from above and slowly descends from the clouds, eagerly accepting your arm as the safe place to perch while you walk along the path to the Unholy Church.

Though she looks like a raven while masked, Blair wreaks havoc in her goblin form on anyone, and anything, that dares to disturb you. She’s one of the strongest familiars a witch could be cursed with, and you’ve been thankful for her services ever since you started training.

It’s your second year attending The Onyx Academy of Dark Casting, a magical finishing school that only the finest witches and warlocks between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five are given the unholiest privilege to attend.

Of these students, the Dark Stars of each class lead with their high values and spectacular spell casting. More often than not, they graduate with the highest dishonor and ascend to become High Priests and Priestesses of covens across the world.

Jung Wooyoung is a beloved Dark Star and stellar student, and it’s rumored that he’ll become the youngest Anti-Pope inducted into the Church of Night after his completion here at the academy.

Even with your unique gift, it’s not in the cards for a person of your status to ever equal his. Which you very well know and understand, despite the dark fantasies that haunt you most nights and your schoolgirl crush that hasn’t gone away since the very first day you met him.

Blair lets out a sharp caw, her wings cutting through the air as she ascends, perching gracefully on the steeple just as you arrive at the church. Her dark silhouette stands stark against the sky, watching over you like a silent sentinel.

The towering doors creak open as you approach them, welcoming you inside the dim space. You walk between the rows of pews, watching the candles that mark the aisle light up as you pass.

Once closer to the altar, you lift a hand and wave it across the front of the sanctuary. The room becomes brighter as the remaining unlit candles grow flames from your magic.

You have a way with the elements; you’re able to manipulate and control them as you wish without specific spells, conjuring them when you please. Your energy is unmatched compared to the other gifted students.

Yet, instead of improving your social status, being gifted has made you even more of an outcast. The professors are wary of your potential and what you could be capable of; the students keep their distance too, either jealous or frightened of your power.

Needless to say, you’re not Miss Popular, but that doesn’t bother you as much as it could. Only the luckiest of witches and warlocks are disgraced with gifts from the Dark Lord, and having chosen you out of everyone means something. And knowing the Dark Lord chose you is enough.

You settle into your usual pew, the familiar creak of the wooden bench under you blending into the background as your mind begins to churn. Thoughts swirl of today’s impending announcement during Father Blackmoor’s sermon cross your mind.

The excitement for Lupercalia is beginning to build. This ancient festival, celebrated by all magic wielders the week leading up to Halloween, is dedicated to the Goddess Peralia, who blesses covens with enhanced health, virility, and fertility in exchange for an indelicate offering. Participants must engage in a series of ritualistic events celebrating lust and sexuality, transforming the festival into a vibrant expression of desire and intimacy. Only then will she offer her unholiest blessing.

You sit there, not in prayer, but in a quiet storm of contemplation, unsure if you will sign up for the festival this year. Another downfall to being viewed as an outsider is that you have yet to experience, well, anything. Sure, you might have kissed a couple of warlocks in your intermediate years, you even had a boyfriend in prep school whom you were convinced you could have loved eventually, but your virtue has yet to be given away.

It’s common for witches and warlocks to lose their virginity during Lupercalia; typically when they are in prep school. In fact, it’s encouraged. Yet, by age twenty, you still haven't mustered the courage to join in the festivities.

This year might be different…

The sudden crash of books jolts you from your thoughts. You turn to see Yeosang, a fellow student, crouched beside a toppled stack of The Book of Blood, its pages splayed open.

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he scrambles to gather the scattered volumes. His cheeks flush slightly, and you can't help but smile softly.

He’s a sixth-year student, just like Wooyoung. Yet, where Wooyoung’s presence demands your attention with an almost suffocating charisma, Yeosang embodies a more reserved demeanor. He tends to stick to his tight-knit group of friends and immerses himself in his studies, radiating a quiet intensity that draws you in without overwhelming you.

You feel a wave of annoyance wash over you as soon you realize that even in the presence of another man, your thoughts keep drifting back to Wooyoung. It frustrates you to no end, pushing you to a spontaneous decision: this year will finally be the year you break free from this obsession. By participating in Lupercalia, you’re determined to finally move on from him once and for all.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “The Dark Lord has already provided me with the clarity I came here for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, carefully restacking the last book. He glances to his left, likely considering the seat he usually occupies, before turning back to you. “Would you mind if I joined you?” he asks, a hopeful note in his voice as he gestures toward the space beside you.

“Not at all, please do,” you smile.

He settles beside you with an effortless grace, and the air around you immediately fills with the warm, intoxicating blend of amber and musk from his cologne. The scent is rich, almost magnetic, pulling your attention in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You fidget with your hands, trying to focus on anything but how good he smells, as your mind races to keep pace with your quickening heartbeat.

Maybe... you could partner with Yeosang for the festival. The thought lingers as you steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He’s undeniably handsome—sharp features that give him a striking, confident look, but it’s his kindness that really stands out. There’s a warmth in the way he carries himself, a subtle softness behind those strong eyes that makes him more than just attractive. You wonder what it would be like to lose your virginity to someone like him, someone who seems both strong and thoughtful in all the right ways.

"Are you sure you are okay? You seem a little tense," he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as his eyes search your face. You hesitate to answer, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, and though you're trying to keep your composure, your breath has grown a little quicker, more shallow.

Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention it, but you catch the flicker of awareness in his gaze. His words are gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity there—like he's not just asking out of politeness but because he genuinely cares. You try to steady yourself, aware of the closeness between you, and suddenly the air feels heavier as if the moment itself is holding its breath, waiting for your next move.

"I didn’t mean to pry if it’s personal," he quickly adds, his voice softening as he notices your hesitation. His words have a touch of urgency, and he backtracks, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. His shifts slightly, giving you space while still holding onto the moment, unsure whether to push further or retreat.

"Can I tell you a secret?" The words escape your lips before you even realize what you’ve said. For a moment, you freeze, caught off guard by your sudden vulnerability. His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but there’s no turning back now.

Yeosang nods and softly says, “Of course.”

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” you admit guardedly.

“Oh, um. That’s, uh…” He’s visibly taken aback when he hears your confession, stumbling over his words. “Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that.”

He shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, uh, that’s really something. I just, uh… I guess I never saw you as someone who hadn’t, you know, participated.” He draws out the last word, his tone heavy with the unspoken meaning.

You nod, trying to meet his eyes. “I know, it’s just… I never felt called to join in on the festivities in previous years. But lately, that feeling has… changed.”

“Oh. Right, yeah, I get it. So you’ll be signing up for the events this year?” He asks with a calm, collected voice, though he’s concerned that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat betrays his calm facade.

Hearing your confession piques his interest. He’s always found you hauntingly beautiful and has enjoyed the casual conversations you’ve shared between classes and such, but today feels different.

He knew you didn’t actively participate last year, though he figured you were still doing something-someone-in private. Now that your secret is out, there's something undeniably more intriguing about you—an unexpected allure that wasn’t there before.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

“I think you should,” he blurts out, then quickly adds, “What I mean is, the festival’s about self-expression and the intimacy you share along the way. If you’re looking for a wild introduction to Lupercalia, there will be plenty of opportunists who share that venereal vision. But if you want something more comforting…choose someone who makes you feel safe and respected for your first time.” Yeosang trails off, his gaze lingering a little too long, the implication unmistakable. He clears his throat, trying not to give himself and his intentions away.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say while resting a hand above his knee, genuinely appreciating his insight.

Before the conversation can continue, the sound of footsteps echoes through the Church as fellow students file in, taking their seats. Black Mass is about to begin.

Wooyoung hadn’t intended to listen in on your conversation. He was too busy waiting for the other Dark Stars to arrive at the closed-off sanctuary to finish preparing for Black Mass. As usual, they didn’t show up early despite his suggestions. That’s a lie; he knew his words were less like suggestions and more like demands.

He was well aware they’d be late today, especially since most of the fifth and sixth years had spent the night at an intimate pre-Lupercalia party that stretched into dawn.

The only reason he peeked through the shadows was due to a loud crash, which he soon realized came from Yeosang, who appeared entranced by someone sitting near the front of the Church. That’s when he noticed it was you.

He’ll admit to having observed you over the past year—not out of personal interest, but because he’s intrigued by your unique gift and curious as to why the Dark Lord chose you of all people. Yes, you’re undeniably attractive as most witches are, but your ability to manipulate pure power without relying on spellwork is, to him, the most compelling quality you possess. If you had the right social standing, you would likely ascend to the role of High Priestess in a very fortunate coven.

From his hidden vantage point, he watches as his friend settles down beside you; that’s when the conversation begins.

“I’ve…never participated in Lupercalia,” he hears you share your secret. Now that is quite a confession.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a smirk as he observes your flushed face from a distance, the rosy hue contrasting with the cold room that surrounds you. There’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes in the way you shift nervously, completely unaware of his gaze.

Knowing that you haven’t been touched stirs a mix of amusement and curiosity within him. He wonders what thoughts are racing through your mind, feeling a strange sensation rush through him when you place your hand on his classmate’s thigh.

He saw no reason to hold back from participating. The moment he came of age, he dove in—and he’s done so every year since, always finding ways to revel in the experience to the fullest. As he reflects on past encounters, a pleased smile crosses his face as he silently counts the number of popped cherries he’s collected over the last several seasons, each a vivid memory weaved into his mind.

‘What’s one more…’

As more students trickle in and take their seats, the soft murmur of conversation fills the air. Wooyoung senses the moment is right and slips out of the shadows just as Father Blackmoor begins to walk down the aisle, weaving between the pews filled with eager faces. The flickering candlelight dances on the stone walls, casting a warm glow that contrasts with the coolness of the sanctuary.

He moves to stand on the left of Father Blackmoor, joining the other Dark Stars who are trying to stifle their yawns. The collective fatigue from the previous night’s festivities hangs in the air, but a shared excitement simmers beneath the surface. He exchanges brief glances with his fellow Stars, a silent acknowledgment of their late-night revelry and the anticipation of what today’s ceremony will bring.

“Fiends and Friends, today marks the beginning of our annual Lupercalia Festival,” Father Blackmoor announces, his voice resonating through the crammed Church. “As you all know, Lupercalia is upon us. I can feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Festival of Wolves is a cherished tradition within our coven, and we take immense pride in honoring Goddess Peralia through a series of exhilarating rituals, all in hopes of receiving her unholiest blessings. With that in mind, let’s review the week’s events for those of you who are new to our practices.”

Father Blackmoor pauses to take an envelope from Wooyoung. “Tomorrow marks the start of the Assessment Period, which will be held in the Grand Hall. Witches who sign up today will be quizzed by prospective partners in hopes of finding their ideal match.”

“Courting begins on Tuesday. Those interested in a specific witch will reserve time slots to spend more time together. By the end of the night, the warlocks must submit the names of the witches they wish to be paired with. This will be followed by the Matching Ceremony on Wednesday, where the pairs will be revealed to the entire coven. On Thursday, we’ll have the Moon Ritual, during which the paired couples will venture into the darkwood to complete the rite. More specific details will be shared on the day, but they are expected to spend the night together beneath the moon in unholy abstinence.”

Some students snicker, knowing very well they won’t be abstaining from anything that night.

Father Blackmoor waits for the room to settle down before continuing, “Friday ushers in the Insatiable Hunt at dusk, where wolf-masked warlocks will chase after their red-cloaked witches through the woods, culminating in divine pleasure once they’ve been caught. We’ll conclude the week of festivities on Saturday with the Final Feast, where we will express our gratitude to Goddess Peralia for her many blessings this season.”

Wooyoung steps forward once more, this time carrying an ancient, leather-bound tome. The worn edges and faded lettering hint at its age and significance.

It’s the Book of Blood; which contains hundreds of Witches and Warlock's printed names, signed with their crimson ink, as a binding commitment to their word. It’s like a contract between yourself, the entire coven, and the Dark Lord himself.

With a practiced hand, he carefully cracks it open, his eyes sweeping across the room. “Witches that dare to participate, please step forward, say your intent, and sign your name in the Book of Blood.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to your feet, joining the line of participants ahead of you. A mix of excitement and nerves swirl in your stomach, each step bringing you closer to the moment you've been both dreading and anticipating.

The weight of curious eyes fall on you as you move, but none more intense than Yeosang's. His gaze feels like a spotlight, cutting through the crowd around him.

With each passing second, your pulse quickens as the line inches forward at a deathly slow pace. Every breath feels shallow, as if the air is too thick for your lungs to handle. Despite the knot of nerves tightening in your belly, your feet move on their own, as if guided by some force beyond your control.

Before you even realize it, you’re standing before Wooyoung. His eyes pierce down onto you while he hands you a knife, “Do you hereby pledge your full participation and commitment to the forthcoming Lupercalia festival and all associated events?”

Taking a deep breath, you respond, “Yes, I pledge myself.”

You take the knife from him, feeling the cold steel as you press the sharp blade into your palm. With a swift motion, you slice a clean, precise line across your skin. Ruby-red blood wells up, pooling in your cupped hand. Without hesitation, Father Blackmoor raises his hand, his dark magic swirling in the air as he draws the blood from your palm. It twists and shapes into the form of a pen, glowing faintly with a sinister aura, ready to be used.

You reach up and grasp the hovering pen, its energy vibrating through your hand. As you sign your name in the book, a surge of adrenaline floods your veins, electrifying every nerve. The moment the ink dries, you feel an undeniable shift. Something deep within you has been awakened.

Wooyoung smirks, knowing the sensation very well. “There’s no backing out now,” he says to you, his gaze locking onto yours, sharp and unrelenting.

“So,” Jongho, a second-year student like yourself, pauses to clear his throat after pulling on his tie, “That was awful.”

You chuckle, relieved to see you're not the only one with frayed nerves. “Yeah, good luck with the rest of them.”

He smiles back before shuffling along to the next person.

It’s Assessment Day, and every witch who signed their name is being rigorously questioned by the participating warlocks. Friends who had gone through this in previous years warned you about what to expect, and they were right. It’s definitely a forced mingling period on steroids.

It’s only been an hour, and you’re already exhausted of the routine of answering questions filled with probing and uncomfortable inquiries that delve into personal preferences. Over and over again, you're forced to confront touchy subjects, as if each question is designed to peel away the layers of your desires, as if you know.

The process feels more like an interrogation than a mere assessment, testing not just your patience, but your lack of knowledge on the subject at hand—sex.

The situation would be far less awkward if you didn't have to sit directly across from someone to verbally review the list. After each question, it’s mandatory to respond in one of the following ways: Agree - you give consent to the matter being discussed with the current party; Acknowledge - it is a potential option, and you give partial consent or Decline - no consent is given.

You pick at your fingernails while you wait for the next warlock.

“Penny dreadful for your thoughts?” You glance up to see Yeosang sliding into the seat across from you, with a broad smile spread across his handsome face.

“Oh, hi!” you say, doing your best to not sound startled. “Just wondering when all of this will be over, you know?” you continue, waving your arms around.

“Yeah, this part of the process isn’t the most comfortable. But I understand why it’s necessary,” he comments while leaning forward on the table. “Have the others been respectful?”

“Oh, yes. Yeah, everyone has been nice. I’m learning how many students I’ve never spoken to before,” you reply lightheartedly.

"Shall we begin?" Yeosang asks with a playful glint in his eyes, nodding toward the paper resting between you on the table, waiting for your cue to dive in.

Just as he reaches to pick up the list of desires to discuss, his movement is halted by the sudden arrival of Wooyoung, whose presence instantly commands attention.

He strides up to your table with his usual confidence, a grin tugging at his lips. The conversation shifts before it even begins, as Wooyoung’s energy pulls both your attention toward him without saying a word.

Yeosang lowers the paper, his eyes flicking between you and Wooyoung, sensing the inevitable distraction.

“Father Blackmoor has requested your presence in the Anti-Sacristy,” Wooyoung announces, handing him a miniature scroll with a secret message.

Yeosang frowns while reading it over, “Please excuse me.”

"Of course, I hope everything's alright," you murmur, though your words go unheard as he's already on his feet, moving swiftly toward the door.

Watching Yeosang rush out, you suddenly realize Wooyoung is still standing there. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and he tilts his head, studying you with a curious intensity.

"Seems like you require a partner," he says with a smirk, sliding effortlessly into Yeosang’s chair without missing a beat.

You’re too stunned to respond and shift uncomfortably in your seat, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. He’s not offering to go through the questionnaire, is he?

Somehow, you forgot that you would, at some point, have to converse with Wooyoung today. It entirely slipped your mind up until this moment. And now he’s here without giving you time to prepare. You start to breathe a little heavier, and a slight sense of panic sets in.

“Why are you acting like that?” He says with a raised eyebrow, noticing your bouncing leg (a nervous habit of yours that annoyingly shows up at the worst possible moments.)

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Well, yes, you do but you won’t admit that. But your hyperventilating and antsy body might tell a different story.

“Yeah, right,” he rolls his eyes.

Your eyes lock on Wooyoung’s as he casually picks up the page. Without waiting for your reaction, he glances at the list and reads off the first item, his voice smooth and confident.

"How does each party feel about blood play; drawing blood by use of knives or other sharp weaponry, smearing blood, using blood as a lubricant, and/or tasting blood?" he reads off, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he waits for your response.

"I acknowledge," you reply with hesitation in your voice, uncertain whether you’re truly opposed to it, yet not entirely sure if you fully consent either. “And you?”

Wooyoung tilts his head again, “Do you really need to ask?”

"You and I both know there are specific rules to follow here," you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, eyes fixed on him with a mixture of challenge and caution. And, if you’re being completely honest, there’s a hint of annoyance now too. The nervousness from earlier has vanished entirely.

“Fair enough,” "he replies with a nonchalant sigh, “I agree.”

It’s your turn to read off the next item. “Does each participating student consent to bringing in other parties to join and/or watch your sexual relations? And additionally, joining others.” You look up toward Wooyoung, already expecting him to agree to those terms.

“Decline,” he states firmly, his voice dropping an octave as he adds, “I don’t share.”

You try to mask your shock, but the expression slips through.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he huffs.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I also decline.”

He nods curtly, and you swear you hear him mutter "good" under his breath.

You breeze through the next set of questions surprisingly fast, both providing the appropriate answers as you work your way down the page.

At first, Wooyoung seemed a bit disinterested, but something caused his attitude to shift. Now, he’s more engaged, genuinely listening to your reasonings whenever you offer it.

“Last question, how many sexual partners have each participating party had?”

As he finishes speaking, you narrow your eyes at him, “That question isn’t on the list.” You’ve practically memorized them all by now. “You’re making that up.”

“So? Answer anyway,” he dares.

You glare at him, silently debating whether or not you should tell the truth. “Screw it,” you exhale, “None.”

Instead of the shock or teasing you expect, he simply blinks at you, as if he already knew what your answer would be.

But how…

When you wake the next morning, butterflies are already fluttering in your stomach. At this point, it’s hard to judge who will end up courting you, though you have a pretty good idea that Yeosang is interested. When he returned after visiting Father Blackmoor, you two had quite a connection while going through the assessment list.

You’ll find out for sure when you make it to the Dining Hall the courting schedule will be pinned on the announcement board for everyone to view.

You decide to grab a pastry and wait for the crowd around the schedule to thin out before checking how many dates you will have today. To keep things relatively fair, each witch is only allowed to have up to five courting suitors. A flicker of nerves sets in—what if no one reserved one of your time slots?

For the love of Lucifer, please let me have at least one warlock courting me.

You shove the last bite into your mouth and make your way to the board, eager to find out. Peeking around the remaining heads blocking your view, you spot that two of your time slots have already been reserved. Just as you’re trying to make out the names, someone taps you on the shoulder.

“Ghoul morning, Y/N,” Yeosang says with a smile, handing you a card. Your heartbeat picks up, recognizing the formality; courting warlocks are required to provide the witches with a card that essentially confirms their date.

“Hi, Yeosang!” You beam. Praise Satan.

He looks relieved when you accept his card. “I was hoping to see you this morning. Meet me at the Weeping Willow at three o’clock this afternoon. I have a special activity planned for us.”

You’re about to respond when you can feel his presence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see Wooyoung standing closely behind. He towers over you, staring down Yeosang.

“Do you need something?” you ask, bringing his attention back to you while silently begging that he’s not here to send Yeosang away again, like yesterday.

“Yes,” he extends a hand, offering you a card. You stare at it in disbelief. He’s not here to steal Yeosang; he’s stealing you.

Wooyoung is your other suitor.

“I believe you’re meant to spend the morning with me.” Wooyoung’s eyes drift from yours and back to Yeosang’s, who tenses beside you. They seem to have a silent exchange of words.

“I see,” Yeosang says curtly, “Enjoy your time together.”

Before you have a chance to say anything Yeosang already disappears. Damn it.

“Come on, follow me,” Wooyoung demands while grabbing your wrist. He leads you down the dim, shadowy hallways of the school before picking up the pace as you leave the safety of the school, heading into the woods.

The thick trees close in around you, and the air feels heavier with each step. Fog swirls at your feet but mysteriously clears a path ahead of him like it knows exactly where he's going. You follow, feeling the cool, damp air cling to your skin. The deeper you go, the more unfamiliar the landscape becomes—you don’t recognize this part of the woods at all, and a strange sense of unease settles over you.

“Bloody heaven, where are you taking me?” you huff, doing your best to keep up with his long strides.

“You’ll see,” he grumbles, helping you up when you trip over an exposed tree root. “Can you stop tripping every five seconds? You’re slowing us down, and we’re on a time crunch.”

You glare at the back of his head as he speeds up. What a dick.

It’s not long before you arrive at the destination; it’s a stone table in the middle of the woods. You look around suspiciously. “Is this a ritual site? Are you planning on killing me for some weird sacrificial thing now that you know I’m a virgin, or…?”

Wooyoung bursts out laughing, “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. This is a portal.”

“A portal? To where?” you ask, peering at the stone. It doesn’t look like any portal you’ve ever seen.

“Want to find out?” he offers a hand for you to take, and you grab it warily.

He places his other hand on the stone, and its magic instantly pulls you through the atmosphere, sending you spiraling toward an unknown destination.

When you land, your feet hit the damp cobblestone street with a soft thud. The air smells of rain and baked goods, and you take in the bustling scene around you—witches and warlocks are flowing in and out of quaint little shops that line both sides of the road, their chatter filling the air. The street is alive with energy, and everything looks both foreign and strangely charming.

Before you can fully absorb it all, Wooyoung tugs you along, his grip firm as your head swivels, trying to figure out exactly where you’ve been transported to. The unfamiliar cityscape seems like a dream, its details slipping through your grasp as you hurry to keep up.

Suddenly, you collide with his back, not realizing he has stopped. "Ouch," you mutter, rubbing your nose in surprise. You’re about to say more when something above catches your eye—the sign swinging in the breeze.

"Trahana’s Tomb!" you squeal, excitement bubbling up. For ages, you've wanted to visit this place, but something always got in the way. Now, here it is, right in front of you, and the thrill of finally arriving sends a rush through you.

Trahana is a renowned sorceress and writer known for her vast collection of grimoires, enchanted artifacts, and other rare occult items—many of which are now on display and for sale at her legendary store. You've been itching to get your hands on her coveted Book of Arcane Beasts, a tome filled with forbidden knowledge of magical creatures, their histories, and untold powers.

Wooyoung holds the door open for you, and without a second thought, you dash inside. Your eyes widen as you take in the towering shelves crammed with both ancient and new books. Every corner of the shop is overflowing with enchanted curiosities.

At the back of the shop, a narrow, spiraling staircase catches your eye. It likely leads to an upper level filled with even more treasures waiting to be explored. The thought of what might be hidden beyond tempts you, adding to the growing sense of wonder.

"Oh, my sweet, evil boy! How are you?"

You turn to see a tall, elegant woman pinching Wooyoung’s cheeks with an affectionate grin.

He swats her hands away, groaning, "Aunt Hana, you know I hate when you do that. I’m not five anymore."

She laughs, unbothered by his protest. "Oh, you'll always be the stubborn young warlock playing with the Acheron Configuration upstairs even when told it was off limits," she teases, her eyes twinkling with the memory. “Goddess knows how many hours you spent trying to crack that spell.”

She shifts her gaze to you, giving you a quick once-over before raising an eyebrow. "Don’t be rude, Wooyoung. Introduce me to your friend."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, "Forgive me. This is Y/N, another student at Onyx Academy. Y/N, meet Trahana, the curator of this fine establishment and, unfortunately, my insufferable aunt."

Trahana smirks, ignoring his jab. "Charmed, I’m sure," she says, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she sizes you up.

"I need to get back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you, darling," Trahana says with a warm smile, her voice dripping with a mix of elegance and mystery. She gives you one last appraising look before turning away, her long robes sweeping the floor as she glides effortlessly toward the front of the store. The air feels lighter without her presence, yet the sense of power she carries lingers, leaving you a little awestruck.

You gape at him once she’s out of earshot. "She’s your aunt?"

Wooyoung sighs, nodding with exaggerated patience. "Yes, I’m painfully aware."

"That’s so cool. So you spent a lot of time here growing up?" you ask, curious to learn more about him.

"Yeah," Wooyoung replies, glancing around the shop with a hint of nostalgia. "My parents traveled a lot for business when I was younger, so this place became like a second home. Now, I come back whenever I need a break from school. Plus, it’s a great place to study; there's something peaceful about the chaos here compared to the eerie silence of Onyx Academy’s library."

"That makes sense," you say, nodding as your fingers trail across the spines of the old books lining the tight aisle. The dust, the energy, and the soft hum of magic in the air make the shop feel alive, the perfect contrast to the academy’s cold, quiet halls. "I can see why you'd find this place comforting."

Wooyoung smiles, clearly more relaxed here than you've ever seen him. "It’s got a strange kind of charm, doesn’t it?" he says, his voice softer now as the two of you meander through the maze of shelves, discovering little pieces of history with every step.

He allows you to explore the shelves, letting you dive into the books that capture your interest. As you lean down to examine the aged pages, he watches as a loose strand of hair slips across your face, and you absently tuck it behind your ear.

"Can I show you something?" he asks, gently drawing you away from the book that’s captivated your attention.

You glance up at him, and to your surprise, he almost seems nervous. It’s a rare sight for someone who usually exudes such confidence. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, making you curious about what he wants to show you.

Nodding, you allow him to lead you toward another bookshelf two aisles away from where you were just standing. His gaze flicks across the titles, searching for something specific.

"Ah, here it is," he finally says, lifting his arm to reveal a book with a deep blue spine. You hear a soft click as he pulls it out slightly, followed by a faint unlocking sound. With a practiced motion, he shifts down to another shelf and pulls out a book with a green spine. To your astonishment, the entire bookcase creaks ominously before revealing a secret door.

"This whole day just keeps getting stranger by the minute. Is this another portal?" you ask, a mix of skepticism and humor in your voice.

Wooyoung grins playfully. "As entertaining as that would be, no. It’s not a portal. It’s my secret place."

You turn to look at him. "See, now that’s kind of worse. Now I really don’t want to go in." The idea of stepping into his hidden sanctuary feels more daunting than the prospect of another magical journey.

He gives you a look.

“Okay, fine. In I go,” you say, taking a step closer before reaching for the cold handle. As you turn it and push the door open, you peer into the darkness beyond, straining to gauge what lies within. And, if you have to be completely honest, wondering why it needs to be hidden away.

Wooyoung steps inside after you, snapping his fingers to conjure his magic. A bright orb of light flickers to life, glowing softly at first. As he guides it upward, it gradually brightens and rises to the center of the room, illuminating the hidden space with a warm, inviting glow. The walls are revealed and adorned with eclectic decorations and mysterious photographs, creating an enchanting and haunting atmosphere.

"What is this place?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you step closer to a nearby table and spot a stack of photographs. You pick up the first few, admiring the artistic shots of a plant you recognize from your walks through the Darkwood—it's a Moonset Fern, captured in full bloom. You remember learning about it in Herbology 101 last year; it’s renowned for its ability to protect against ill-will spells.

Intrigued, you skim through the rest of the stack. Each photo showcases different plants, all with potent herbal properties, their images so carefully composed they almost seem to pulse with hidden power.

“So,” Wooyoung says nervously, “What do you think?”

“Of the photographs? I think they’re beautiful. You took these?” He nods. “I didn’t know you had an interest in photography. Or Herbology, for that matter.”

"It’s a secret interest. Obviously," Wooyoung says, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "Unfortunately, Father Blackmoor thinks it’s a complete waste of time. To him, this is the work of a lesser warlock." The distaste is evident in his voice, like the words themselves leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "He’d rather I focus on proving my potential to become the youngest Anti-Pope."

"Do you believe him?" you ask, watching his reaction closely.

"Am I even allowed to believe any different?" he replies, his tone a mix of resignation and defiance. He picks up a different stack of photos and flips through them, each holding a distant memory of a time he felt genuine joy.

"Part of me wishes I wasn’t destined for this life—that I had the power to shape my own future," Wooyoung admits, his voice heavy with conflicted emotion. "But then the other half of me hates myself for even thinking like that, especially after everything my family has sacrificed to get me here." His gaze drops, the weight of expectation clearly pressing down on him, caught between desire and duty.

“No one in the history of The Church of Night has ever turned down a position of power once they've received the proper training and hold the necessary status,” he continues, his tone growing darker. "I can’t even imagine the consequences of rejecting something like that." The mere thought seems to weigh on him, defying centuries of tradition would unravel everything—not just for him, but for everyone tied to his legacy.

“That’s a frustrating position to be forced into. Though, I hate to admit I’m jealous.”

His head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours, confusion and a flicker of anger etched across his face.

"I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what my future will look like," you begin, your voice tight with emotion. “I have all this power, yet no one can explain why I have it or what I’m supposed to do with it. I don’t have even the slightest clue where I’ll end up in life, so yeah, from that standpoint, I am a bit jealous of your situation," you admit, a hint of envy creeping into your voice.

As you speak, the anger in his expression gradually fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. His features soften, and you can see him truly considering your words, letting them sink in.

"At least you have a clear path laid out for you, even if it’s not exactly what you want. I’m still stumbling around, trying to figure out what my purpose even is. But even then..." your tone softens slightly, "If I were you, I wouldn’t let my sense of duty smother the passion I feel for another study—even if it’s an uncommon path for someone in my position.”

You begin again, your voice steady with conviction, "The Dark Lord wouldn’t have put this path in front of you if there wasn’t something here worth discovering. I’d bet there’s a connection between each path, and maybe, just maybe, you’re meant to do something with both. Something no one else has thought of yet.”

Wooyoung hadn’t thought of that.

“That’s just my two cents,” you sigh, setting the photos down and walking over to the next table with hundreds more to look through.

One photo in the middle of the pile catches your eye, standing out in a way the others don’t. You can’t quite place the plant; it’s unfamiliar, yet stirs a sense of deep nostalgia. It’s a rich olive green, with spiny stems and sharply pointed leaves giving it a menacing look. But what truly captivates you is the ethereal purple aura surrounding it, shimmering faintly, like the plant itself is alive with ancient magic. Something about it feels important, though you can’t recall ever seeing it before.

"It’s a Ghost Violaceae," Wooyoung murmurs softly, leaning in close over your shoulder. His breath is warm against your ear as he speaks, his voice slightly raspy. "It’s commonly used in the art of seduction." His words hang in the air, as mysterious as the plant itself, and the subtle intensity in his tone makes the air between you suddenly feel different.

Wooyoung would do unspeakable things to know the thoughts swirling in your mind right now. He’s desperate to unravel what it is that made you blush so fiercely, what’s causing your heart to race and your breath to quicken.

You turn slightly, looking up at him with your lips parted. Wooyoung tilts his head, his eyes sparkling as he tries to decipher the emotions playing across your face. There's a flicker of curiosity in your gaze, his focus sharpening as he leans in just a fraction closer…

The sudden ringing of a timer blares through the silence, startling you both. Your head snaps toward the sound and you see a stopwatch floating in midair, its rhythmic ticking a clear reminder that your time is almost up. It’s time to return to Onyx Academy to prepare for your next session with Yeosang.

Beside you, Wooyoung tenses, the atmosphere immediately changing. The warmth in his eyes vanishes as quickly as it has surfaced, replaced by the cold, guarded demeanor he typically fronts. His walls shoot back up, and just like that, the brief vulnerability between you disappears.

Blair eyes you curiously, her black feathers ruffled while she senses the secret you’re holding back. She’s perched on a low branch, watching as you wait beneath the cascading limbs of the Weeping Willow. You’ve arrived early, not finding any solace in the silence of your room after returning to campus. Yeosang should be here any minute, but the unease from earlier lingers.

Wooyoung had barely spoken after the stopwatch appeared, his mood darkening as he grudgingly led you back to the portal. He rushed you through without a word, his steps heavy with frustration, and stormed off toward the church once back on school grounds without so much as a goodbye.

You’ve been trying to clear your mind, focusing your energy on the upcoming session with Yeosang, but the tension from Wooyoung still simmers under the surface. You take a deep breath, determined to push it aside and give Yeosang your full attention. He deserves it.

Blair lets out a sharp caw before taking off into the sky, disappearing into the distance as soon as she senses his presence. She knows to give you your privacy, leaving you alone just as he approaches.

“Oh, you’re here already,” Yeosang says, a bit surprised to see you already by the willows. He steps forward, his happy expression growing as he extends a bouquet of dried wine-colored roses, elegantly tied with a black ribbon.

“These are for you.”

Your breath catches at the sight of them. "These are gorgeous. Thank you—wow," you say, smiling while gently taking the bouquet from his hands. The gesture feels intimate, the deep red petals catching the light as you admire them, warmth blooming in your chest at the unexpected kindness.

“You’re welcome. Do you want to apparate them to your room?” Yeosang suggests.

“That’s a good idea, actually,” you reply, lifting the bouquet in front of you. With a soft hum, you recite the incantation, watching as the flowers shimmer and disappear, transporting them to your bedside table in an instant.

“There,” you smile, “Now they’ll be waiting for me when I get back.”

“We have a short walk to our destination. If you’ll follow me?” Yeosang guides you up a path behind the willow grove, the incline leading to a breathtaking view of the Darkwood below. The forest stretches endlessly, its shadowy canopy glittering with ancient magic.

"Do you mind waiting here?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck, a hint of nerves flickering across his face. "I thought I'd have a little more time to set things up."

You smile softly. "I don’t mind at all."

Relieved, he excuses himself, disappearing back down the trail to retrieve whatever surprise he has planned. The minutes pass in peaceful quiet, the cool air brushing against your skin. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment, until a faint rustling behind you interrupts the calm energy. You glance over your shoulder, seeing nothing, and shrug it off—probably just the wind.

But then, movement at the edge of the tree line catches your eye, a shadowy figure slipping between the trees.

You step cautiously toward the movement, your heart beating a little faster with each quiet footstep. The air seems to thicken as you approach, a soft rustling continuing just beyond the nearest tree. You steady yourself, taking a slow breath before rounding the massive trunk.

Face to face with the culprit, you freeze—a pair of wide, curious eyes staring back at you. It's a small, ethereal creature, almost like a fox but with wisps of glowing mist trailing from its fur. Its translucent body shimmers faintly under the dappled light filtering through the trees.

You exhale in relief, it’s just another familiar. The creature’s gentle gaze is more inquisitive than threatening; and she tilts her head, trying to decide whether to flee or come closer, her silver eyes studying you with an almost childlike curiosity. The creature soon takes off, before you have a chance to ask who they belong to.

As you turn around, a startled cry escapes your lips—Wooyoung is standing just inches from you, his presence completely unexpected.

"What are you doing here?" you snap, your hand instinctively flying to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I'm not really here. Just astral projecting. And who’s to say I wasn’t here first?"

You cross your arms, glaring at him, clearly unimpressed.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn’t here first," he concedes with a shrug, his smirk faltering under your withering stare.

"Yeosang is going to be back any second," you warn, narrowing your eyes. "Are you here to spy on us?"

"Pfff... no..." he says, though the lack of conviction in his voice makes you roll your eyes.

"Lame," you mutter, watching his poorly veiled attempt at denial fall apart. He shifts awkwardly under your gaze, clearly caught.

“I don’t like that you’re alone with him.”

“Why?”

“I told you already. I. Don’t. Share.”

“You can’t be serious,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Is this just some kind of game? Are you playing with me because you don’t want Yeosang to have me? What is it, Wooyoung? You haven’t given me a second thought until two days ago.”

“It’s not like that—" Wooyoung starts, but the sound of rustling interrupts him, cutting his sentence short. Both of you turn, startled, as Yeosang emerges from the trees. His eyes sweep the clearing, looking for you since you aren’t standing where he left you. When he spots you, he smiles and approaches, carrying a woven basket in one arm and a blanket in the other.

You glance back toward Wooyoung, but he’s already vanished. Typical, slipping away before finishing what he started. Maybe he’s glad for the escape before you can grill him any further.

“Looking for something?”

‘More like someone,’ you think to yourself. “Oh sorry, I thought I saw a familiar, but it ran off,” you explain, brushing off the awkward moment. “So, what’s all this?” You gesture to the basket, quickly shifting the conversation before Yeosang has a chance to ask anything.

He grins, glancing down at his hands, a bit shy. "I hope you like picnics. I thought we could enjoy some treats and maybe get to know each other better."

“That sounds lovely,” you reply warmly.

Yeosang carefully picks a spot, spreading the blanket and the two of you sit side by side, the breathtaking view of the Darkwood stretching out below. There’s something serene about the quiet between you, the moment brimming with peaceful anticipation.

He sets the basket in front of you, lifting the lid to reveal an array of colorful sweets, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun reflecting off the glass jars inside. You notice delicate pastries, chocolates, and sugared fruits arranged neatly.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything,” Yeosang says, his voice low but sincere.

Your heart warms at the gesture. "You’ve really outdone yourself,” you praise, picking up one of the pastries for yourself and offering another to him.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to bring up the scroll from yesterday. "I didn’t want to pry, but you left in such a rush yesterday. Was everything alright?" you ask before taking a bite.

Yeosang chuckles softly, as if amused by the memory. "Funny you should ask. Turns out, when I arrived at Father Blackmoor’s office, he had no idea what I was talking about. No urgent scroll was sent for me. But he thought it was good timing and wanted to discuss my plans for after I complete my time at the academy."

Your curiosity piques further. "And those plans are...?" you press, hoping he’ll open up.

Yeosang hesitates briefly, but then, with a slight smile, he reveals, "I’d like to teach, maybe. My father was a teacher, and he always said I had the same qualities. Plus, I love kids. I think teaching them the basics of magic—the very foundation of what they'll need for the rest of their lives—would be important work."

A soft breeze ruffles the edges of the blanket, and you can’t help but smile at his answer. "That sounds perfect for you. I can already picture you as a great mentor."

The rest of your evening with Yeosang flies by in a blur of conversation and quiet moments spent enjoying the view. Before you know it, he's walking you back to the dormitories. He hesitates as you both stop outside the door to the girls' dorms, clearly lingering on something unsaid.

"I just want you to know," he starts, shifting nervously, "that regardless of what happens tomorrow at the Matching Ceremony, I had a lovely time tonight. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Before you can respond, he leans down and presses a soft kiss on your cheek. "Goodnight, Y/N."

You barely manage to mumble a “goodnight” back, still caught in the trance from the warmth of his lips against your skin. As you make your way up to your room, your heart feels light, and you can’t help but smile even wider when you notice the flowers he gave you earlier—now arranged beautifully in a vase on your nightstand.

But something else catches your eye—a small, glimmering box sitting on your bed, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight. You walk over to it and find a note attached in handwriting you immediately recognize.

Not a game to me – W

Your breath hitches as you find the book you had been eyeing earlier—the one Wooyoung had distracted you from in Trahana’s shop—alongside the newest edition of The Book of Arcane Beasts. Tucked neatly between the pages are a few of the photographs from his secret room; the ones you had admired without realizing he noticed.

Your heart races as you hold the items in your hands, the meaning of his gesture sinking in. It’s not just a game. Whatever this is with Wooyoung, it’s something real. And now, you're more conflicted than ever.

Yeosang steps closer to the flames that surge in the iron vessel before him, casting flickering shadows across his face while he waits. If you look closely, shapes begin to form within the flames, dancing and twisting as though something is being forged in the heat. A sudden flare of sparks erupts from the fire—it's ready.

With a steady hand, he pulls an envelope from the fire. The edges of the paper are still smoldering while he opens it with precision, watching as the magic ink slowly manifests on the paper, revealing a name.

You notice a brief, almost imperceptible frown cross his face, but it vanishes just as quickly. “Polly Petrify,” he announces smoothly, his voice steady, betraying nothing as he steps back into place.

Father Blackmoor gives a solemn nod, signaling his approval of the pairing.

The Church is packed for the Matching Ceremony, and a mix of excitement and nervous energy ripples through the crowd. The warlocks stand in front of the filled pews, their postures rigid and unreadable, while the witches occupy the first two rows of seats, eyes flickering with anticipation.

You sit among them, your heart sinking as Yeosang’s name is paired with another witch. The knot in your chest tightens, but before you have time to register how you truly feel, Wooyoung steps forward.

It’s his turn.

Time stretches unbearably as his fingers hover over the glowing envelope that emerges from the flames. He grasps it carefully, tearing it open before pulling out the slip of paper, the suspense in the room thickening with every second.

At least a dozen witches sit in eager anticipation, each one hopeful, their eyes flicking toward the altar, silently praying that their name will be the one called.

You watch his face intently, almost holding your breath.

The moment he reads the name, a subtle smile curls at the corner of his lips, making him look effortlessly gorgeous. His inky black hair falls in perfect disarray, and the deep blue sweater he’s wearing brings out a distinctive glimmer in his eyes—it’s definitely his color.

As he steps back in line to let the next warlock take their turn, you realize that you completely missed whose name he just called. You’ve been too busy gawking to notice. Leaning toward the witch beside you, you whisper, “Whose name did he say?”

She shoots you a scowl and snaps, “Yours.”

Your heart skips a beat, and your gaze whips back up front. Wooyoung catches your eye and quickly winks, the gesture playful yet it’s enough to send a wave of heat rushing through you. Your pulse races and every nerve in your body is suddenly aware of his presence. The world around you fades for a second, the reality of the situation sinking in—he chose you.

It feels like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room. Your chest tightens, and it’s taking every ounce of control not to claw at your neck in search of air. You can’t tell if your racing heart is a sign of excitement, fear, or a mixture of both.

The pairing results swirl through your mind as you try to process how you feel about Wooyoung having been paired with you. You know that the warlocks have some say in their pairing preference, but the decision is ultimately up to Father Blackmoor and The Dark Lord.

But there’s no time to dwell on it now—you have a performance to focus on. As the rest of the ceremony wraps up, the witches, including yourself, are expected to sing I Put A Spell On You.

You walk up to the front of the church with the other witches, your heart still hammering in your chest. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze searing into you from across the room, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You know that if you do, you’ll stumble over the lyrics or worse, completely forget your part.

With every note of the song, you force yourself to remain composed. Your voice blends with the others, the melody haunting, filling the ancient church with an enchanting resonance. The weight of his stare lingers, but you resist the pull until the very end. Only when the final note fades and you’re walking back to your seat do you glance his way. His eyes are still on you, but there’s something different about his expression now—intense, unreadable.

Father Blackmoor steps forward as the ceremony winds down, his voice ringing through the dimly lit room. “Remember, paired witches and warlocks are strictly forbidden from seeing each other until tomorrow evening when you’ll all meet in the Darkwood for the Moon Ritual. Ghoul evening to you all.”

The church stirs with hushed whispers and rustling bodies as everyone begins to disperse. But you remain in place for a moment, your mind tangled in the events that have unfolded. Tomorrow promises even more mystery, and the thought of it sends another shiver down your spine.

You follow the large group down the path toward the heart of the academy’s campus, their excited chatter buzzing in the crisp evening air. But as they veer toward the dining hall, you quietly part ways, taking steps in the opposite direction toward a different building.

The heavy wooden doors creak as you push them open, and the familiar scent of ancient tomes and aged parchment envelops you.

The sanctum, the private library for advanced students like yourself, is nearly deserted tonight, making it the perfect place to find peace in the aftermath of the ceremony. The usual hum of magic is calming and the near-silence offers a much-needed space to clear your mind.

You make your way to the Demonology section, where the dim light and towering shelves create a cocoon of solitude. Finding an empty seat, you settle in, snapping your fingers to summon your books. In an instant, they materialize on the table before you, pages full of dark knowledge waiting to be absorbed.

Despite it being Lupercalia season, the academic grind doesn’t stop. Your upcoming exams loom over you like a dark cloud, and no amount of supernatural matchmaking will change that.

You run your fingers over the spines of your books, mentally preparing yourself to dive into study mode. The familiar words of your Demonology texts are grounding, a reminder of the discipline and focus you need to maintain.

The sanctum is quiet tonight, only the soft sound of pages turning and the occasional whispered incantation breaking the silence. You try to focus on the words in front of you, but your mind keeps drifting back to Wooyoung—his voice, his gaze, the gift he left in your room. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside. There will be time for all that later. For now, you need to concentrate.

Time passes and after finishing a few chapters, you glance at your watch, eyes widening in surprise. Three hours have flown by. Blair is going to be furious that you’re late to feed her. Scribbling down a final note, you snap your fingers, sending your books back to your room before heading out of the sanctum.

As you step outside, you collide with someone. "Oh, I’m so sorry!" you stammer, glancing up to apologize, only to be met with familiar eyes twinkling beneath tousled black hair.

Wooyoung.

���You’re forgiven,” he says smoothly.

"We’re not supposed to see each other," you remind him, taking a cautious step back.

He tilts his head, smirking too, just like he always does. "I know, but you skipped dinner, and there’s something I’ve been dying to do since yesterday."

"What? Stalk me some more?" you quip, feeling a rare surge of confidence.

His smirk spreads into a full smile, and to your delight, he chuckles—a sound you’ve secretly grown to love. Your heart pounds faster.

"You wish," he shoots back, his eyes gleaming as he steps closer. The intensity in his gaze feels almost magnetic, as if he's looking right through you, straight into your soul. His nostrils flare with a sharp exhale, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as he takes yet another step closer.

He doesn't answer. Instead, with one smooth motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. His touch is firm, but there’s a softness to the way his fingers splay across your back. You feel your pulse quicken, your breath hitching in your throat.

“This is breaking the rules,” you whisper, trying to find an ounce of self-control to step out of his embrace.

His proximity overwhelms your senses—the warmth of his body, the way his breath tickles your skin, and the undeniable connection crackling between you two. He tilts his head slightly, the smirk on his lips fading into something more serious, more dangerous.

“I don’t break the rules, I just bend them,” he rasps, his voice low and teasing, right before he closes the space between you. The moment his lips brush against yours, you freeze, caught off guard by the softness, the tenderness as he coaxes you into responding. His mouth moves gently, skillfully, as if testing the waters, daring you to give in.

A frenzy stirs inside you, an electric current surging through your veins. Your hands instinctively move to frame his face, your fingers sliding along the sharp lines of his jaw before tangling in his soft, messy hair. The kiss deepens, the intensity building with every second as you press yourself closer to him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment.

You can’t get enough; the taste of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and the undeniable pull that has your body responding before your mind can catch up. His other hand slides under your shirt and up your spine, anchoring you to him as if he never wants to let go.

Wooyoung mumbles an incantation against your lips before tickling the corners with his tongue. You’re too distracted to recall what he said, especially when you feel it.

Heat begins to radiate from his fingers, searing into your skin. It flows through your body until it hits your sweet spot, pooling dangerously between your legs.

You gasp against his mouth, and he uses the opportunity to dip his tongue inside, swallowing your moans as you let them slip out. Pressing your legs together, you try to find any sort of friction, aching for something to relieve the growing pressure.

A sinful sound vibrates from his chest when you bite down on his lower lip ever so gently. You have to admit, the thought of kissing him has crossed your mind more times than you can count. But now, standing here with the taste of him on your lips, you realize the reality is so much better than anything your imagination could have conjured.

He’s more intoxicating than any dream could ever be. Every touch sends a thrill through you that no fantasy could ever match. The way he knows exactly what you like leaves you yearning for more in a way that feels almost addictive.

Blair caws, cutting through the shadows of the night and announcing her arrival with impeccable timing. You both jolt, breaking apart as if the spell between you has been abruptly shattered.

“Ghoul evening, Blair,” Wooyoung mutters, his voice still thick with the lingering tension. He glances at the raven-like figure perched nearby, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did,” he adds, his tone teasing. He looks down at you, pleased with how dissolved your shirt looks, how pouty your wet lips are from your nefarious activities.

He takes a step back, quickly smoothing down his hair and adjusting his clothes, his fingers lingering at his collar as he regains his usual composure. You, on the other hand, are still catching your breath, feeling the flush in your cheeks and the electric hum of the moment that lingers in the space between you.

Give me a little privacy to say goodbye, and I’ll give you extra treats for your late dinner, you say telepathically to Blair. She tilts her head, considering the offer, before finally cawing in agreement and taking off into the night, clearly satisfied with the deal.

“I want you to try something tonight,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice low and full of mischief. His eyes glint with something dark and thrilling, sending a shiver down your spine. “When you’re alone in bed and everyone else is asleep…”

Your heart races while he speaks.

“I want you to pretend that your hands are my own, and I want you to touch yourself where you felt my magic earlier.”

“E-excuse me?” you stammer, your heart racing as you try to find the right words.

He grins, leaning in just enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he teases, his voice like velvet. “I need you to warm yourself up for me, so you’re ready to learn more tomorrow night. Will you do that for me?”

You nod, a shiver running across your skin as his words linger in the air.

“Now, get out of here and go feed Blair before you wake up tomorrow missing your eyes,” he adds with a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress a smile. “Fine, see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” he says with a wink, watching as you turn to leave, his gaze heavy on you the entire way.

His words linger in your mind for the rest of the night.

It's now the witching hour, and your roommates are fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the potion you slipped into their bedtime tea. They never noticed the subtle, earthy undertones masking the spell’s effects, leaving them in a deep slumber for the next several hours.

It had to be done, the last thing you need is for one of them to wake and catch you in the act, especially while you're carrying out Wooyoung’s special request.

Under the safety of your blankets, you move quietly, as if any sudden movement could betray your secret. One hand begins to massage your breasts through your thin tank top, the other sliding down toward your pink panties.

Taking a deep breath, you open your legs, allowing your fingers to slip beneath the dampening fabric. After spreading your juices around, you rub your clit before slowly dipping your first finger into your slick entrance. The sensation is unfamiliar—neither bad nor uncomfortable, just something you're not used to. The pain of the stretch lingers, leaving a strange warmth that you can't quite place.

You close your eyes and pretend that Wooyoung is there with you. Swiftly, you begin to curl your fingers, simultaneously bucking into your hand. You picture him hovering over you, but the image clouds over, shifting into a different scene that becomes sharper.

Wooyoung is also in bed, with his hand wrapped around his exposed, thick cock, lazily pumping it. There’s something unsettlingly vivid about this image, as if it’s not just a product of your imagination. It feels real—too real. Gasping, you realize that he’s in your head, projecting himself, revealing his presence in a way that makes your heart race.

Then, as if he can sense that you've finally caught on to his wicked scheme, a dark smile tugs at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your body’s temperature spike. “Are you touching yourself, like I asked you to?”

You suck in a sharp breath and nod instinctively, even though you know he can’t physically see you. But somehow, you sense that he knows.

“I bet you are,” he hums, closing his eyes while running his thumb over his pink head. He tosses his head back as he strokes himself, “I bet that tight little virgin cunt of yours needs some good stretching before she’s ready for me.”

Feeling the heat rising to the tips of your ears, they’re red from the weight of his words, like they’re wrapping themselves around you, pulling you deeper into his influence. The knot in your lower belly grows as you match your little finger thrusts to the speed of his hand pumps.

“Add another finger, honey, I know you can,” Wooyoung groans, his hand moving a little faster. “Look at how my cock aches to be sunk inside your sweet folds.”

You do as he commands. You’re panting at this point; completely zeroed in on his throbbing length while you climb towards bliss. The silent room fills with a sinful pattern of squelches from each thrust into your lush heat, and a divine sensation washes over you.

“Goddess, I’m about to make a mess,” he whines, a sound that you’ll never be able to forget. He stills, letting out another beautiful noise while his seed shoots out across his abs, some even on his dark silk sheets.

“That’s just a preview,” he grins devilishly, “Sleep well, Y/N.”

"Many blessings," Father Blackmoor's voice rings out, reverberating through the towering trees of the Darkwood. "Tonight, we honor the Moon and her radiant beauty. Paired couples, please step forward to collect your basket."

You step forward cautiously, aware of Wooyoung’s presence close behind you. As your fingers brush the edge of the woven basket, Wooyoung’s arm reaches past you, his hand closing around it first. His body hovers briefly against yours, a faint smile curving his lips. Sucking in a sharp breath, you pull your hand back as your mind flashes back to last night, Wooyoung’s cock is still fresh in your mind.

"Each basket contains a ceremonial knife," Father Blackmoor continues, his tone solemn. "You will begin the rite by smearing your blood upon your partner's forehead. Then, you must drink the purification potion—the milky-colored vial—and consume the figs, symbolizing your unity. Under the moonlight, you will lie side by side until dawn, as a testament to your bond and in preparation for tomorrow’s Hunt."

His final words hang in the cool night air as the forest seems to hush in reverence for what’s to come. You glance up at Wooyoung, and his eyes are already on you, dark and unreadable, only reflecting the moonlight.

As the other couples start to spread out across the forest, Wooyoung’s hand finds yours, tugging you deeper into the woods. His steps are quiet, purposeful, as the towering trees close in around you both. Your attention snaps forward when you catch a glimpse of movement—there, not far ahead, the same fox-like creature you spotted by the willows. The realization dawns on you: it’s Wooyoung’s familiar.

The creature moves gracefully, leading the way through the underbrush, its magical fur shimmering under the pale moonlight. Wooyoung follows without hesitation, his gaze fixed on his familiar. You trail behind, curiosity building, as the creature guides you to a secluded clearing hidden deep in the Darkwood.

“Thank you, Vixen,” Wooyoung murmurs once you’ve arrived. The fox-like familiar halts briefly, then glimmers before fading into the air, leaving behind a trail of glowing embers that slowly dissipate into the night.

Your eyes scan the clearing, and you notice the scene in front of you—a circle of softly flickering candles arranged around a blanket spread across the forest floor. The air hums with quiet magic, thick with mystery and anticipation. Wooyoung turns to you, his eyes glinting in the candlelight, a mischievous yet unreadable expression crossing his face.

Wooyoung extends his hand to you, his touch firm yet gentle as he helps you step onto the soft blanket. With a single snap of his fingers, your clothes transform—yours into a sheer white nightgown, his into simple black pants, with his chest left bare, the candlelight casting shadows over his defined muscles.

“Ready to begin?” he asks, voice low, eyes holding a flicker of something dangerous yet enticing.

You nod, your breath catching for a moment. Reaching into the basket set down beside him, your fingers curl around the cool metal of the ceremonial blade. Together, your voices join in a low, rhythmic chant, weaving through the night air. The ritual words hang heavy between you as you press the blade to your finger, feeling the sharp sting as blood wells up. Stepping closer, you bring your hand to his forehead, smearing an upside-down cross on his tanned skin, the blood vivid against his complexion.

Without a word, you hand the blade to Wooyoung, your fingers brushing his in the exchange. He mimics your actions, the cool sting of the knife barely registering as he pricks his finger, marking your forehead with the same crimson anti-cross. The flames around you leap higher, responding to the magic building in your chant.

The moonlight glistens against his skin, bathing him in an ethereal glow as he lifts the purification potion from the basket. He drinks deeply, eyes never leaving yours, and then hands the vial to you. You take it from him, your pulse quickening as you lift it to your lips, the magic binding you both growing stronger with each word, each action.

His eyes darken; trailing over your nearly naked body. They land on your peaked nipples, and he lets out a deep exhale while his eyes are glued in place.

“Um, figs,” Wooyoung clears his throat, momentarily dazed, shaking his head as if to regain focus. He grabs one from the basket, handing you the other. You sink your teeth into the fruit’s tender skin, its bright red flesh spilling a sweet, rich juice onto your lips. A single drop escapes and trails down your chin, and you catch Wooyoung watching, his gaze lingering longer than usual. But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.

You quickly wipe away the juice, trying to ignore the flush creeping up your neck. “So… what now?” you ask, your voice more uncertain than you intended. You’ve both completed the ritual, but the tension between you is undeniable. Neither of you has acknowledged last night’s activities, though you’re certain it’ll come up eventually. It has to.

He shifts slightly, his eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to bring it up. His lips twitch into a half-smile, “I’ve got an idea or two.”

You’re not sure how it happened—one moment you’re standing, the next you’re lying beneath him. Wooyoung hovers above you, his arms on either side of your head, eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity. His body is close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and your pulse quickens as his breath brushes against your skin.

Without notice, his lips crash down onto yours. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, moaning when your hands twist in his hair.

He presses his hips down into yours, letting you feel how worked up he’s already become.

“We're technically not supposed to do anything tonight,” Wooyoung says, his voice low and teasing once he pulls back. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as he adds, “But a rule’s never stopped me before.”

You pull his head back down to yours, kissing him languishingly as he rolls his hips into yours again.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks, this time pressing his length right up against your covered heat.

Wooyoung’s lips curl into a devilish smile when you whine incoherently about wanting more.

“Answer me, honey. Do you want more?” He asks with a growl, but the intensity in his gaze makes it clear—he already knows the answer.

“Yes,” you beg, “More. Please!”

He grabs handfuls of the fabric at your sides, bunching it up around your waist before he descends below.

Your dewy center is covered in a heavy coating of your arousal. Spellbound by the sight, he instinctively brings his fingers to your heat, gathering some of your transparent essence and smearing it around your folds.

“Fucking hell, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Wooyoung mutters.

Incapable of waiting any longer, he dives in tongue first, licking a beautiful line from your slit’s opening up to your needy nub of nerves. Another growl resounds from his chest as he devours your sex, his cock involuntarily twitching when he sinks two fingers back to your opening. Wooyoung strokes his saturated fingers through your slit before sinking them inside your soft flesh, feeling your inner walls clench around them.

He pulls them out and admires how your hole instinctively sucks his digits back in where they belong.

“Such a tight little cunt. It’ll be ruined by tomorrow night,” Wooyoung groans; despite his words, there’s nothing but appraisal in his voice. He looks up at your body, meeting your eyes. His flash with a dark dominance, lust with a dash of something else flicker in them.

His devilish words only excite you further, and more of your sticky arousal coats his hand. Each curl of his fingers brings you closer and closer to writhing pleasure.

His head dips back down, his tongue swirling around your clit before he sucks it between his teeth. Gasping, you buck your hips upward, needing more. So much more.

“I can’t wait to turn you into a nasty little whore. Would you like that?” he asks in between little licks.

“Y-yes” you mewl. “Wanna. Be your w-whore.”

He’s got you dancing along the edge of a very dangerous cliff, and you want nothing more than to jump off, face first, and dive into the waves of ecstasy that await.

He can tell that you’re close; your walls are beginning to tighten around him. Flattening his tongue against your sensitive nub, he applies the right amount of pressure you need to come all over his face.

When he sits up, his mouth is dribbling with your release; it’s a pretty sight to see.

“Not bad for a virgin,” he teases.

Your blissful smile turns coy, “Is it my turn to taste you? You’ll have to teach this virgin just how you like it.”

A deep, low growl vibrates in his chest and the corners of his jaw flex as he stands up, his silhouette outlined from the moonlight.

“On your knees then, slut.”

You twist your body until you’re sitting on your knees, your used cunt dripping onto the blanket below.

“Goddess, I’m so fucking hard for you,” Wooyoung grunts while pulling his pants down.

Freed from his pants, his cock springs out before bouncing momentarily, then stands erect in its full glory. You reflexively clench at the sight of him. It’s just as you remember it from last night.

Tightening his palm around his shaft, Wooyoung begins stroking himself before lining his tip up to your lips.

“Take just the head into your mouth,” he murmurs. “Just while you warm up to the feeling.”

You immediately wrap your mouth around him and a wave of precum leaks directly onto your tongue. Circling his thick tip, you get comfortable with the weight of him on your tongue, learning his taste.

“Such a good slut,” Wooyoung croons, causing your core to tremble from his praises.

One hand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to look up at him, “When you’re ready for more, take a deep breath and take in more of me.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you suckle on his head, letting more and more of him into your wet cave. You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, the tickling sensation causing him to jerk inside you.

Wooyoung tugs on your hair, softly at first, and then his fist wraps around the handful in his grasp. His impressive length fills your mouth, his immense girth cracking your jaw open with each gentle thrust.

Words of encouragement spill from his lips, giving you the confidence to suck in the final inch of his member.

Involuntarily, you gag around his cock when his thick head hits the back of your throat. Tears sting the corner of your eyes, falling soon after.

Without warning, his length surges into your throat and Wooyoung lets out a stream of colorful expletives as his release hits him. His hips jerk once more, and he tosses his head back underneath the moonlight.

You shudder, feeling his thick cum stick to the walls of your throat.

“Goddess,” he hums, “Sorry about that.” Wooyoung slips out of your mouth, admiring as you use the back of your hand, you wipe your soddened mouth.

“It’s okay. Now I know what to expect.”

Wooyoung pulls you into his embrace, and you both settle into the quiet rhythm of the night, staring up at the stars as they shimmer in the sky. His warmth surrounds you, grounding you amidst the cool breeze.

He shifts slightly, turning on the blanket to meet your gaze. “I need to warn you about tomorrow,” he begins, his voice lower, more serious. “The potion we warlocks take before the ceremony… it makes our animalistic instincts take over. It’s going to be rough. That’s why I’ve been preparing you, so to speak.”

A knot twists in your stomach at his words. You hadn’t realized the full extent of what tomorrow held, but now it makes sense. That’s why they call it the Hunt, you think, You’re basically their prey. The pieces finally click into place. His honesty, though jarring, makes you feel strangely grateful that he’s letting you in on something you weren’t aware of.

“I trust you,” you whisper softly. “You haven’t hurt me so far, so I’m not worried about tomorrow.”

Wooyoung’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He silently prays to Goddess Peralia that he won’t bring you any harm during the Hunt. The uncertainty flickers in his eyes for just a moment before he pulls you closer, wrapping you in his warmth.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice gentle as you settle against his chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, and soon your breaths fall in sync, the sound of the wind rustling through the Darkwood easing you both into a peaceful silence.

As the stars twinkle above, the night’s calm surrounds you like a protective cocoon, lulling you into sleep. You drift into a deep, restful slumber, cocooned in his arms, feeling the peace before the inevitable storm of tomorrow.

“The Insatiable Hunt begins,” one of the warlocks grins darkly before tossing back the elixir, the liquid shimmering as it slides down his throat. Wooyoung raises his glass in silent agreement, his eyes flashing with excitement before he gulps it down, feeling the fiery potion race through his veins. The others follow suit, the room buzzing as they prepare for the night ahead.

They pull on their wolf masks, transforming from men into primal hunters, instincts sharpening with every heartbeat. The thrill of the chase hangs thick in the air as they line up, muscles tensed, waiting for the doors to open.

Wooyoung’s body hums with the effects of the potion, a burning heat spreading through his skin. His senses sharpen—your scent lingers, intoxicating and irresistible. His pupils dilate as your essence floods his nostrils, every fiber of his being urging him forward. The others grin beneath their masks, but his focus is single-minded: you.

The doors creak open with a loud thud, unleashing them into the night. With a guttural growl, Wooyoung sprints into the woods, his feet pounding the earth as he follows your trail, the scent drawing him deeper into the Darkwood. His heart races, blood pumping with one singular purpose: to find you. To claim his prize.

Wooyoung moves like a shadow, effortlessly twisting and turning through the woods, his heightened senses guiding him closer to your trail. Each subtle shift in the air tells him you're near. He slows as he approaches a dense thicket, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. He can feel you hiding, watching, waiting.

His cock strains when he catches a whiff of your scent, his hardened member straining against the tightness of his pants as it begs to bury itself deep inside of you.

His eyes narrow, hyper-focused on the faintest rustle of leaves. You dart from the bushes, sprinting through the underbrush, your breath quickening as you distance yourself from him. He follows silently, his steps deliberately soundless as he stalks you.

You duck behind a tree, pressing your back against its trunk, heart pounding in your chest. Straining to listen, you hear... nothing. No footsteps, no rustling—nothing. A chill creeps up your spine. Slowly, you peek around the tree, scanning the shadows. There’s no sign of him.

Relief barely has time to settle in before you turn back and scream.

He’s right there, inches away.

"Gotcha," Wooyoung growls, his voice low and menacing, his breath hot against your skin. With a wicked grin, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as he slams your back against the rough bark of the tree. The impact sends a jolt through your body, your heart racing even faster now. His grip tightens, but not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who’s in control.

His eyes glint through the wolf mask with a dangerous mix of hunger and satisfaction, the thrill of the Hunt evident in every line of his expression.

Wooyoung's grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “I can’t wait to split you in half with my cock.”

Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing your chest against the rough bark of the tree. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his hands slide down your sides, firm and unyielding.

He blames his newfound animalistic behavior for how fast he rips away your crimson cloak and the layers beneath it, leaving the shredded fabric scattered across the mossy forest floor.

In one swift movement, Wooyoung uses a knee to spread your legs and sinks into your inviting opening without warning. Tears sting your eyes from the sudden intrusion, but the pain quickly turns into mind-shattering pleasure.

“Taking it so well, aren’t you, slut?” he purrs, voice low and dripping with praise. The raw, commanding edge in his tone sends shivers through you, your insides tightening around him in response.

You hum an incoherent response, unable to form words when his cockhead is pressed against the swell of your cervix.

After ripping his mask off, Wooyoung’s fingers press into your hips. He holds you steady as he moves, each thrust punctuated by dark whispers of just how perfectly he fits inside you.

Wooyoung’s grin brushes against your neck as he drags his tongue up the curve of your skin, leaving a lingering lick before pressing a kiss just below your ear. His hips pull back slowly, his length retreating from your slick folds until only the tip remains, teasing you.

Then, with a low growl, he thrusts forward, filling you entirely in one fluid motion, claiming every inch as he sinks deep inside.

The sudden motion causes you to moan uncontrollably, his girth continuing to stretch out your soft walls. Your soaked cunt splitting open around Wooyoung’s enormous girth only causes him to swell more, if that’s even possible.

“M-more, please!” you whimper.

Wooyoung clenches his jaw, feeling your wetness ooze out where your bodies meet with each quick thrust.

One of his hands squeezes your side, the other falls to your round ass, and his claw-like nails scratch across your skin before he pulls his hand back to spank you. Your vision blurs from the impact, and you push your hips out, asking for more.

“Again,” you whine, your head digging further into the tree’s bark.

You bite down on your lower lip, anticipation building as you brace yourself. A sharp crack echoes through the air as his hand comes down against you, harder this time and sending another sting that radiates through your skin.

A moan slips past your lips, the sharpness transforming into pleasure that courses through your body. His fingers trace the spot he’s just marked, his low chuckle rumbling against your ear.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice rich with approval, each word sending shivers through you. “Turn around. I want to look at you," he demands next, his voice gritting through his teeth.

You obey, slowly turning to face him, your heart racing under his intense gaze. His eyes roam over you, filled with a mix of hunger and admiration that makes you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated.

Wooyoung cups your chin, tilting your face up toward him. His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as he drinks you in. "Look at you," he whispers, almost to himself, his thumb slipping inside your mouth. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around it, meeting his gaze as you lightly suck, earning a dark smile from him.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his free hand tracing down your body, grazing every curve and leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "And you're all mine tonight." His words trail off as his length pounds into you again.

He watches as your lips part, head tilting back in pure bliss, and takes his chance. His mouth crashes onto yours, tongue slipping between your lips with a raw desire, claiming every inch he can reach. The kiss is deep and possessive, leaving you breathless as his hand tangles in your hair, keeping you close.

His tongue strokes against yours, tasting every gasp and moan you release, as if he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath him. You melt into his kiss, losing yourself in the heat, the way he consumes you with each movement.

When he pulls back, Wooyoung drags his lips against the shell of your ear to whisper, “Is this what you want? Your little virgin cunt destroyed?”

“Yes,” you moan, voice low and thick with desire. Then, locking eyes with him, you let a wicked smirk curve your lips, meeting his heated gaze with a look as dangerous as his own. "Ruin me," you breathe, each word dripping with a challenge that sends a spark down his spine.

A growl escapes his lips, and his grip on you tightens. He pushes you against the rough bark, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as his eyes darken with pure, animalistic hunger. “You want to be ruined?” he whispers, his voice a low rasp against your ear as he pulls your hips even closer. “Careful what you ask for.”

His thrusts come harder, relentless, each one leaving you trembling and gasping as he takes you to the edge, only to pull you back before you can fall. His hand slides up your throat, a possessive touch that’s somehow both gentle and commanding as his thumb grazes your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You’re mine," he growls, eyes blazing, his body pressed against yours with no space left between you. He savors every inch of you, watching your face intently as he ravages you with a merciless rhythm, his fingers digging into your waist. “And I’m not stopping until you’re completely undone.”

Your moans grow louder, filling the night air and mingling with the rhythmic slap of your bodies moving in unison. The sounds echo through the Darkwood, a primal symphony that seems to resonate with the forest around you, intensifying with each frenzied thrust.

Wooyoung feels your walls clench tightly around him, a signal that you’re close to unraveling. “Cum around my cock, honey,” he rasps, his voice laced with possessiveness. “I know you’re close.”

He quickens his pace, pounding into you with a newfound urgency, while his fingers find their way to that sensitive spot between your legs. The moment his thumb and forefinger pinch your aching nub, pleasure spirals through you like wildfire.

You scream his name, your body seizing up as waves of ecstasy crash over you, each pulse flooding your veins with tingling heat.

He watches you intently, captivated as your face twists in bliss, feeling you squeeze around him, almost pulling him over the edge.

A low growl escapes his lips, and with two final, frenzied thrusts, he buries himself as deeply as he can, his abs contracting as he spills himself inside you. His teeth graze your bare shoulder, biting down as he rides out his release, filling you with a heat that leaves you both breathless.

“Oh, praise Satan,” he gasps, letting out a shaky laugh as he presses his forehead against yours. The two of you catch your breath together, heartbeats slowing, tangled in the afterglow.

You collapse entirely into his arms, utterly spent and trembling, every muscle deliciously exhausted as you sink into the darkness of sleep that lingers at the edge of your consciousness. A grin tugs at your lips, satisfaction mingling with exhaustion as you surrender to it, the night’s events replaying like a forbidden lullaby.

Nothing in your dreams could ever compare to the raw, disgraceful, dangerously addictive reality you’ve just experienced. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you let go, falling into a slumber filled with echoes of his touch.

The room is loud with the sound of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered gossip. Candles cast a warm glow over the grand hall as platters of food float between the seated bodies; you're barely listening though, too hyper-aware of Wooyoung sitting beside you.

You steal a glance at him from across the table. He’s watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. A secret smirk plays at the corner of his lips, one that makes your cheeks burn under the soft glow of the chandeliers. It’s almost unbearable, this tension simmering between you, each stolen look as dangerous as a spark near dry wood.

His fingertips graze yours under the table, sending a rush through you each time. You both know the game you’re playing—pushing boundaries, daring each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move.

Finally, he leans in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Let’s get out of here.”

"We can’t just leave," you mumble, finally meeting his burning gaze. There's a warning in your eyes, but he ignores it, his grin only growing.

You bite your lip, glancing around at the oblivious faces around you. "It’s the middle of the feast," you continue, though your resolve is already faltering. "People will notice."

"Let them," he says, the mischief in his tone unmistakable.

He stands and takes your hand, his grip both gentle and possessive as he leads you out, weaving through the tables with a confidence that dares anyone to question him.

Whispers and side glances follow, and you try to ignore the burning stares—hungry warlocks with dark eyes, envious witches with guarded whispers.

Everything has changed.

Wooyoung’s presence grounds you, his thumb brushing reassuring circles against your skin. And when he glances back at you, tilting his head in that familiar way with a smirk tugging at his lips, you realize that somehow—despite all the chaos of this past week—some things aren’t so different after all.

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[gallusrostromegalus]

I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Enemy

Kinktober day 3

Paring: Spiderwoman!reader x Venom!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, dub-con, fingering, tendril sex, Venom forming a dick, (I’m sorry), degradation, humiliation, public sex, breeding kink, nipple stimulation, orgasm control,

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

A/N: I’m very sorry if you read this Lewis

Masterlist- Kinktober

The rain was purring onto the dirty streets of New York washing away all the grease left by the city however the read dirt stayed; they had to be taken care of by you. You were Spiderwoman since you had turned 17 a few years back and since then the streets were your life. Your mornings, your noons, your evenings even your nights had been spent cleaning this city from its dirt. There was simply no time of a committed relationship, even though you had tried and failed with what you thought would be the love of your life. Unsurprisingly being a superhero barley covered anyones bills not like it had been implied by the comics you had spent your whole youth reading. You couldn’t quit either Spiderwoman was a symbol. A symbol of hope and kindness when every institution failed you had been there protecting those who couldn’t do it themselves.

Sitting alone in your one bedroom apartment you were certain that being a super hero in high school was a lot easier than making it your profession in adulthood. Your head was planted upon your desk your eyes threatening to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. You barely listened to the frequency of the police radio. You were quickly awoken by the news of a black human like monster being sighted by civilians. You were in your suit in record time pulling your mask over your tired eyes before swinging into the cold city. You swung over the busy traffic of the the New York streets.

Arriving at the described location you realised that the object of your attention was no where to be found. Not a trace from it left. Your curiosity got the better of you. In your years of being a superhero and fighting against the green goblin and people made of sand nothing could shock you anymore. Oh how wrong you were. But this was something something, new something exciting which could potentially make your boring life a bit more exciting.

The police was just as clueless as you were so you started to search around the area yourself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until you made out a red headed woman alone in a dark alleyway. You came closer to her this probably wouldn’t help your search but she had a strange aura around her pulling you in. She seemed a bit nervous perhaps her green eyes fixated on your athletic form. She looked older than you maybe in her mid 30s but you weren’t sure.

“Can I help you this is a dangerous neighbourhood.” The woman face changed to a smirk “Well” she started “I’m sure you can help me in a personal way” Flirting and especially sleeping with civilians was off limits but you were desperate. It had been months since the last time you had another woman at your mercy. “I’m sure I can be of great-” you could see the womans eyes widen as she looked over your shoulder in the same moment your spider senses went off. Was something behind you? You turned around to see nothing you were confused for a second until you felt a force wrestling you onto the ground. You managed to turn to onto your back only to face a black slimy creature. You stared into its big white eyes as it slowly opened it mouth to reveal its many white razor sharp teeth. It seemed to have multiple rows of them all tripping in salvia. Its velvet tongue had an impressive size as it hovered above your masked face. Salvia tripped onto your face as you tried to move away.

“You were right Nat… she is stupid” the creature above you remarked in its deep voice. “Hey” you squeaked higher than you had intended to. The goo pulled back to reveal the beautiful red head again. “Oh look V she looks so shocked” she snarled at you pulling her arms from the black slime but your hands remained pinned to the concrete. Her hand gripped onto your mask pulling it up as you shook your head to side violently. Never once did you get unmasked but she did it gripping onto your chin so you couldn’t move. “You are a pretty one spider girl.” “Fuck you” you bit back. She responded in laughter making you blush in humility. “Oh no I’m gonna fuck you sweet girl” she said in between laughter.

***

“Please” you whimpered desperately your face pressed against the hard brick wall. The position you were in was beyond embarrassing. Complete naked bend forward black tendrils running over your naked form with her fingers deep inside of you pressing against you g spot. “Who would’ve guessed the symbol of hope would be such a slut. Look you are dripping down your legs like a penny whore” she slapped your ass making you cry out for more. “More” you whined feeling the tendrils rolling over your nipples.

She moved her fingers at her brutal pace curling and twisting as you clenched down. “I- I’m gonna-” “Should we let her V” she asked her companion. “Cum” you did on command releasing your slick over Nats hand and wrists.

Natasha pulled her hand from your heat making you whine at the lost. “I think she can do another” the goo formed a dick around Nats hips which you only realised once its big head was already pressed against your tight hole. “I can’t” you lied as she pushed in “Your body wants it I know it Spidey” she chuckled pushing in until she bottomed you out. She let you adjust before picking up her pace. She fucked into you hard and fast. “I’m gonna fuck you pregnant you little slut” she bit into your neck the tendrils working magic on your already overstimulated clit. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” she picked up her pace one last time before releasing her with cum inside of you.

The tendrils pulled back from your cum mixing into each other before tripping down your thighs. She pulled her pants back up leaving you panting against the wall. As a last act of affection she helped you back in your suit before leaving.

“Until next time spider girl”

:)

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

[sweetfictionalworld]

Bound For Life - Chapter 1

Pairing: OC!Orc x Human Female Reader

Summary: Your life is nothing exciting. Until one day when you encounter a creature in the forest and your life is changed forever.

Warnings: Nsfw! Smut, Orc Sex, Monster Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Size kink.

Author's notes: Okay, so this is my first time writing and posting anything original. I hope this is good enough to post and that a few out there will like it.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Life had never consisted of anything exciting or interesting for you. As you grew up to be an independent young woman after the death of your parents, you found yourself living quite a boring life. Living alone in a small cottage in the forest outside the village, you worked at the local Inn. Every day was the same as the other. Meeting the same people, having the same dull conversation.

Little did you know, it was soon about to change.

You knew of the creatures in the world, of the elves and trolls, goblins ad orcs, but you'd never encountered one. Their lands were far away from the humans, so distant it felt like a fairytale red to spellbound children.

It was late at night after another shift. You walked through the dark and murky forest, following the stone path to your home. Suddenly, your skin tingled and your eyes flickered as your breath deepened, inhaling more air. Your footsteps slowed down as you listened with great intensity, couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You looked behind you, expecting your eyes to connect with a rodent, a wolf, or a bird, but nothing was there. Nothing but a lingering knowing. Looking onward again, you quickened your steps this time, hoping to escape the constant feeling of being followed by watchful eyes.

*

Yolmar hid in the darkness of the forest, watching the fragile, little female figure walking the path through the woods. He had never seen a human before. His head tilted, nostrils flaring as he felt the smell of your fear. It was almost like hunting a deer.

Yolmar had never been this far away from home. As he came of age, Yolmar was sent to explore the world to find a suitable mate. He never expected that it was the sent of a human that would awaken his interest.

A sudden crack made him look to the side, his pulse quickening at seeing the wolf sneaking up on you. His eyes snapped back to you, then back to the wolf, his instincts taking over when the animal suddenly lunged towards you.

*

It all happened so fast. Despite your senses being on high alert, you barely had time to react when you heard the crack of a breaking tree branch behind you. Twirling around, you stared at the wolf galloping towards you. Your scream didn't have time to leave your lips before the wolf was knocked to the ground by an enormous, green-skinned humanlike creature. You stared at the scene before you, unable to move as the creature wrapped his muscular arm around the wolf's neck and broke it. The green beast dropped the lifeless wolf to the ground, its chest heaving with heavy breaths as he turned his attention to you, staring at you with yellow, intense eyes.

From the stories told to you as a child, you knew that it was an orc.

You thought you would die on the spot as the orc moved closer, its heavy footsteps booming in your ears in pace with the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

"You okay?" the orc spoke, his voice guttural as he struggled to speak your tongue. You blinked, once, twice, as you stared up at this monstrous beast before you. His yellow eyes examined you with what you could only describe as...concern? He was tall, probably close to 6,6, his bare-chested upper body flexing with muscles as he breathed heavily.

You nodded at his question, couldn't find your voice as your gaze dropped to his loincloth, your face heating up as you imagined what was hidden beneath. What on earth possessed you to think such inappropriate thoughts in the face of death? You looked up again, your eyes following the shape of the black mohawk on his head, down his pointy ears, and the two tusks protruding from his bottom lips.

"Good," the orc answered to your nod, his gaze slowly roaming down the shape of your body, and you found yourself blushing. Why did he make you feel so utterly naked and bare?

"Uhm...t-thank you. For...for saving me," you finally managed to say, your voice shaking as much as your heart pounding in your chest.

The orc nodded, a smirk ghosting across his lips as he looked back up to your face and met your gaze.

"W-what are y-you doing here? I-I mean, s-so far away from your homeland?" you asked, not knowing where you got the courage to speak. Good lord, this was so unreal. Were you actually having a conversation with an orc?

"I left my clan to search for a mate," the orc replied, taking a step closer to you as he gazed at you leeringly. "I am Yolmar. What's your name, little human?"

You stared up at him, unable to breathe at his closeness and the lustful glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-Y/n...," you croaked and wetted your lips, scared of what might happen next.

"Well, y/n..." Yolmar placed his forefinger under your chin, lifting it up and forcing you to hold his gaze. "I believe you owe me for saving you."

Holding your breath, you felt a heat rush through your core as you looked into his piercing, yellow eyes.

"I-I...w-what do you want?" you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"You. As my mate."

Your eyes widened as you kept staring up into his eyes. Your ears were buzzing, mind unfocused on everything except the word coming from his lips.

Mate.

"W-What?" you flickered your eyes, the nervous beating of your heart increasing. "W-What do you mean?"

"It's your scent. I could smell it from miles away, the way only a mate could sense it. You and I are mates, destined to be together. I must confess I was disappointed at first that you're not an orc. But now that I see you, how tempting your soft and tiny body is, I can't wait to claim you. To make you mine."

Yolmar smirked and leaned down to your ear, inhaling your scent. A growl of appreciation rumbled in his chest, and the sound along with his hot breath on your skin caused a trail of goosebumps down your body. You couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe how willing your body was to accept him when your mind was still trying to protest. Yolmar's finger left your chin and slid down the nape of your neck, sending another wave of goosebumps down your skin. A keen whimper slipped from your lips and you became shamefully aware of the arousal pooling between your thighs. Yolmar growled at the sound coming from your lips, his hand landing on your waist, covering your entire hip.

"P-Please don't, I can't...," you begged, hated the uncertainty in your voice and how your body betrayed you, aching and throbbing to feel him inside you.

"I can smell your arousal, human," he growled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, coaxing an embarrassed moan from your lips. Yolmar snickered. "You want me as much as I want you."

His hand found its way underneath your dress and undergarments, two of his long, thick fingers slipping between your soft folds and into your wet, spongy core. You gasped and grabbed his big arms as his fingers stretched you out.

"So wet and tight," Yolmar mumbled and started moving his fingers inside you, grunting at the squishing sounds your pussy was making. His cock jerked at the feeling of your wetness, twitching, and hardening to life, eager to fill your tight, little cunt to the brim.

"Oh fuck," you gasped at the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, didn't understand why you didn't stop this stranger, this monster, from doing this to you. Most of all, you didn't understand why you wanted him to do this, why your body seemed to crave his touch. Maybe it was true what he said? That the two of you were destined to be mates.

"Such foul words coming from such a sweet, little thing," Yolmar chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core. "Tell me, my little human...Do you crave my cock inside you?" At the last word, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, pushing against your g-spot and you screamed out in pleasure.

"Y-Yes! Please, yes," you whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeatedly thrust his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

Yolmar grinned and took out his fingers from your pussy, his hands violently ripping the dress from your body, leaving you only in your undergarments. You gasped, wanted to cover your bare chest when the orc stared at your breasts but didn't have time to react before his calloused hand cupped your tits. "Pretty," was all he said and kneaded the soft flesh, felt the weight of them in his hands, and rubbed his rough thumbs across your nipples that hardened at his touch.

"P-Please," you begged, bit your lip at the feeling of your pussy aching and clenching desperately to be filled.

Yolmar lifted his gaze, his yellow eyes filled with hunger as he removed his loincloth. Your gaze dropped, widened when you saw his enormous, engorged member pulsating and leaking with precum as it stood proudly in a curve up against his stomach.

"Oh, fuck...," you whispered, wondering how it would ever fit inside you at the same time as your pussy twitched at the sight of him.

Yolmar chuckled at the frightened wonder on your face. "Don't worry, little one. It will fit. If we take it slowly. Now, get down on your hands and knees."

You obeyed on trembling legs, jerked and gasped when he ripped the undergarments from your body and grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling your ass up in the air. Then, you felt him at your entrance, slowly pushing the bulbous head between your fold and into the tight hole of your pussy. Your eyes widened, breath coming out in short gasps through your parted lips.

"So tight. So fucking tight and small," Yolmar mumbled and howled in pleasure when the head of his cock suddenly popped inside your warm, wet entrance. At that point, he couldn't control himself anymore. Grabbing your hips harder, he bucked his hips against your ass, pushing his cock into you halfway before pulling back. You cried out, back arching and head thrown back as his huge cock stretched out more than you thought was possible. Then, he thrust forward again and you screamed a silent moan, realizing he had only been halfway inside you and he was now fully seated in your womb.

"Feels so good...so good, my sweet, little human," he crooned, almost lovingly, as he started a slow and gentle pace of fucking you, claiming you as his mate. Your vision got blurrier with each of his thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Soon, your mind became dazed and numbed, and a smile spread across your lips when all you cared about was how absolutely divine his cock felt inside you. You could feel the pressure building in your core with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. Then, the orc suddenly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, of feeling so empty inside.

Yolmar pulled out and positioned himself above you, on his hands and feet as he pushed inside you again, his massive frame hovering above yours as he thrust into you. You moaned when Yolmar pushed back into you again, smiled as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You looked into his eyes and held his gaze as he quickened the pace once more, rapidly shoving his dick inside you over and over until your senses were overflowing.

Yolmar looked back into your eyes as he slammed into you hard and fast, rougher with each thrust. The slapping sounds filled the forest, blending with your high-pitched moans and the orc's snarling growls above you. The pressure in your belly intensified and finally erupted just as you felt the orc pump into you a final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came. His cock twitched inside you and the feeling of his seed pulsing into you brought you swiftly over the edge, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop out of him. Yolmar threw his head back, his loud, guttural growl echoing through the forest as he emptied his seed inside your belly. You collapsed onto the ground, panting for air and your body becoming limp as you felt his cum flow out of you, creating a white river on the dirty ground between your thighs.

"Mine," he muttered quietly and out of breath as he picked up your exhausted body.

Yours. You smiled tiredly when Yolmar cradled you in his arms, and he started walking down the path leading to your cottage.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

just a little something for the darling @yournowheregirl to wake up to! it sounds kinda dumb and insignificant, but i always appreciate your tags in the fun tag games that come across your dash and for always being one of the first that ask something from those ‘ask me’ posts i reblog! it makes me feel appreciated and i am super grateful every time 🥰🫶🥹

There was meant to be two beds.

Steve specifically got a double king room for the goblins, and another room with two queens for him and Eddie.

So of course as soon as they got into Milwaukee the night before the D&D themed nerd fest, the (actually very nice) woman at the front desk says: “We had to swap around the rooms, but the two will still sleep all you boys, don’t worry!”

Whatever. That’s fine, right? They’ll all have a spot to sleep the next two nights they’re here for the kids’ (and Eddie’s) dragon game convention.

He gets back to their rented minivan and passes the key cards to Eddie in the passenger seat.

The van was just the first point of contention between him and the kids’ beloved Dragon Meister, followed closely by…everything else.

The first thing Eddie said when Steve showed up in the rented van was “King Steve is coming along on our journey?”, to which Steve could only respond with “This ‘super cool’ guy you assholes have been going on about this whole time is Eddie “The Freak” Munson? Really?”

Following closely behind are: the tapes and tapes of loud garbled ‘music’ Eddie insists on playing, his absolutely tragic way of unwrapping Steve’s burgers for him when they stop for lunch, the wariness Steve has in the first place about this being the guy Dustin wouldn’t stop talking so highly about…this nerdy, obnoxious, third-time senior…great.

“204 is the Hellions’ room, 207 is us.”

Eddie bends an arm backwards into the feral beast enclosure the second two rows have become over the last six hours and Steve’s surprised he still has his hand when it returns to the front.

Steve gets the van parked in the hotel’s garage, and they head up to their rooms.

“Alright, assholes,” he says to the somehow still rambunctious masses, “This is you guys, Make sure you’re up by eight so we—“

“Yeah Steve, we got it,” Dustin scoffs, “As if we’d risk being late to this.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a “Fine, goodnight.” and shuffles the few steps across the hall to his and Eddie’s door, leaving the troops to file into theirs.

The only thought in his head is of laying down and getting the fuck to sleep. It wasn’t even that late but—

“Oh you’ve got to be shitting me.”

So that’s what brings them here. To their one barely queen sized bed.

“I guess I’m on the floor then, huh?”

“I’m not about to let you sleep on the floor.”

“Oh, the King has chivalry does he?” Eddie rolls his eyes and throws his duffle onto the armchair in the corner.

“As much as you, asshole; I just want you to have the energy to corral the gremlins tomorrow.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face. “Look, we’ll just deal with it tonight and I’ll get another room tomorrow.” he lies. As if he’s got the cash for that.

Eddie looks him over, and seems to come to whatever conclusion he needs to because he says “Fine, but you better not be a blanket hog.”

Eddie’s the worst blanket hog Steve’s ever had the displeasure of knowing.

He thought Robin was bad, but this is something else.

Eddie’s fully a burrito within an hour of laying down. After a hearty, but silent, game of tug of war over the worn duvet.

Steve falls asleep angry and cold, and wakes up on a cloud.

He’s so warm and so entangled in the comforter, he can’t help but snuggle deeper into the pillow he’s clutched onto.

The pillow hums back at him and scoots itself under his chin with a sigh.

Steve squeezes tighter onto the pillow momentarily, but his curiosity of why his pillow’s making noise gets the better of him.

He cracks his eyes open, looking down at the thing in his arms.

It shifts as well, and Eddie Munson blinks up at him with those (holy shit…beautiful, deep, dark) doe eyes of his.

“Hi.” Steve breathes.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and shuffles himself back into Steve’s neck.

Steve chooses to blame the still sleepy bit of him for curving himself back around Eddie.

“How’d you sleep?” Steve whispers into the now-bared hairline under the other man’s bangs.

“Fucking amazing…” Eddie mumbles, snaking an arm over Steve’s waist and settling a hand in the middle of his back. “How ‘bout you, Stevie?”

“Stevie, huh?” Steve chuckles.

It’s only then that Eddie seems to come to his senses, his head shooting up before he scrambles away, falling straight onto his back between the opposite side of the bed and the wall with an “Oof!” and a “Fuck!”

“Oh shit!” Steve shuffles off the bed and helps Eddie back up, ”You alright, Eds?”

“Yeah..yeah, I’m fine..” Steve gets Eddie back on his own two feet and (reluctantly) lets him go once he’s stable.

‘Reluctantly? Why reluctantly? What the hell??’

“Sorry I was all over you, not the greatest thing to wake up to, huh?” Eddie says, huffing a sardonic laugh under his breath.

Steve hums nonchalantly, “It wasn’t all bad, I slept pretty fucking amazing too.”

Eddie hums an acknowledgment, then: “I wouldn’t—“ Eddie starts at the same time Steve says “I should—“

“You go ahead,”

Eddie’s hands come up between them, spinning the rings on his fingers nervously. “I was going to say that…I.. Iwouldn’tmindifyoustayedtonight..too.”

Steve blinks. “Good thing I was going to say that I really should save my money.”

Eddie’s smile is slightly nervous, but there’s a hopeful tinge to it that Steve can only assume means what he thinks it does (hopes it does).

“Leaves me with more to spend on the Gremlins, right?” he shrugs.

Eddie beams. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, Harrington.”

also, if you haven’t heard it recently: Alice, YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 🤩

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Rating Non-Zelink and Non-BotW Link Ships in Legend of Zelda Games because they don't get enough love

Malink; Malon x Link: Adorable and somewhat canon depending on who you think TP Link's parents are and what timeline shenanigans you subscribe to. Link's first non-Kokiri friend turning into his soulmate is cute and finding peace after the craziness of OoT is beautiful. Also, Malon is cute as a button. 11/10, love you, funky Horsegirl.

Ilia x Link: Pretty good but feels too much like a reskin of Malink to be really fun. People give Ilia grief for freaking out about Epona but it really isn't fucking deserved. Girl get's done dirty by the narrative and the fandom and she deserves better. Also, memory loss and falling in love all over again is absolute peak. 9/10, you deserve better, baby.

Marin x Link: A child's first taste of tragic ending and hot girls being doomed by the narrative. Very child friendly "Calypso and Odysseus" feel to this one. Still, Marin is absolutely adorable and the idea of falling in love with a literal dream is heartbreaking. 10/10, would cry like a little kid again.

Link x Ruto: Okay, hear me out, this one isn't terrible. Ruto's chld-like crush on the guy who saved her life is pretty cute and being a haughty teenager about it is pretty funny. Also, she understands they can't be together, and sends him off with her love and good wishes, which is surprisingly mature of her. I'm just saying, Ruto isn't the weirdo people make her out to be. 7/10, it still feels like entrapment

Midlink; Midna x Link: TOP TIER! BEST OF THE BEST! ABSOLUTE PEAK ROMANCE! Romeo and Juliet style star-crossed lovers from literal opposing sides of reality. Allies of convenience to friends to soulmates?! PEAK! Adorable evil goblin design for most of the game and then complete knockout reveal at the end?! ROMANCE DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE?! PEAK, I TELL YOU! PEAK! (Also I headcannon that because Midna looks like a Hylian she's considered ugly by Twili standards so Link finding her beautiful warms her heart). 20/10, best ship, best girl, best love story.

Ganlink; Ganondorf x Link: Objectively the funniest Legend of Zelda ship in existence and I will take no arguments on that. Destined enemies giving the middle finger to fate and falling in love instead? Amazing. Ganondorf hates every minute of it but he's also the happiest he's ever been with this stupid twink and he hates that too. 10/10, something something the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that day.

Link x Zant: Objectively hilarious as Link is seducing his enemies into submission yet again, like any self-respecting bard, but this one feels a little too Batman x Joker like for my liking. I really ship Zant x Therapy but Midna watching her rival give up his conquering ambitions for a twink is objectively hilarious. 8/10, not great but not bad.

Got others you want me to rate? Let me know! Or better yet, rate them yourself and I'll tell you if I agree or not.

[notrapsplease]

Werebear Halsin Headcanon

I have seen a couple other posts going around about werebear Halsin and wanted to make my own with some of my thoughts/evidence because I have been a werebear truther since I first saw the beefy elf daddy.

This doesn't really have spoilers in it, but I do touch on a couple plot points from the game. Fair warning! I also pull a lot from D&D itself, specifically 5th edition since that's what BG3 is built on.

This ended up being long, so I split it into a few different categories, they are in no particular order:

Quite large for an elf

We all know, Halsin is big. Large even. In D&D, elves are described as being slender and slight. Even if they are athletic they are not muscular and are lighter than other races of the same size (as in a 5'5" human will weigh more than a 5'5" elf). They are a little shorter than humans on average.

This puts Halsin well outside the usual elf physiology. When this is addressed in game, Halsin says perhaps he has some orc ancestry or "conventional wisdom is too narrow about what someone can or cannot be" (beautiful sentiment Halsin, you're still big).

Being a werebear offers a simple explanation for his unusual size. Werebear in D&D are described as being large and muscular, even in their humanoid form.

It's a "Wildshape"

Sure buddy.

Halsin's bear form is explained away as one of his druid wildshapes, but there are a couple things that don't line up.

First is the UI itself. Halsin’s bear form is separate from wildshape. It’s in the general abilities section not the class features. This might be just for programming reasons, but I still think it’s interesting.

Second and more incriminating, Halsin stays in bear form for too long. ACT 1 Spoilers: When you find Halsin in the Goblin Camp, the Goblins don't know he's a dude, they just think he's a bear. Even if in the stories timeline you're supposed to reach him the same day as when he was kidnapped, that's still a long time to maintain a wildshape. As per DND 5e rules: "You can stay in a beast shape for a number of hours equal to half your druid level (rounded down)."

So even if Halsin is STARTING as a max BG3 level druid at level 12, he should only maintain wildshape for 6 hours. Even as a Circle of the Moon druid, the time doesn't increase.

"I...lost the run of myself"

Related to the idea that Halsin's bear form is a wildshape, I need to touch on the parts of the game that indicate Halsin can lose control of his bear form.

My main piece of evidence here is that wildshape in D&D has no indication that you lose any control of your impulses. In fact, wildshape describes the opposite: "Your game statistics are replaced by the statistics of the beast, but you retain your alignment, personality, and Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma scores."

The fact you retain your mental stats mean you are in total control. There is no mental difference between a druid in wildshape and a druid in their humanoid form. To be in wildshape is a CHOICE the druid makes.

This is in contrast to spells like Polymorph which indicate that you lose your mental stats AS WELL as your physical ones: "The target's game statistics, including mental ability scores, are replaced by the statistics of the chosen beast. It retains its alignment and personality."

I bring that up just to showcase that D&D does have that distinction, if wildshape was meant to be something that you could lose control of, or let the beast take over, they would have written it that way.

ACT 3 spoilers: This idea that he can be made to lose control is also hinted at if Orin kidnaps him from your camp. Orin's dialogue from the kidnapped victim usually indicates a deep-seated fear the victim has, or their worst case scenario. Having kidnapped Halsin describe himself losing control indicates to me that it's his biggest fear. Which makes sense as a werebear, as a druid…not so much.

In contrast to wildshape, which is a voluntary choice the druid makes, being a werebear is a curse. Halsin is obviously in good control of his werebear self (I discuss this later on), but it is still a curse and can affect him negatively, especially in impulse and instinct.

Alignment: Neutral Good

Now I've got to talk about the werebear curse a little more. And D&D lycanthropy in general.

When someone is afflicted with the curse and resists it, they maintain their normal alignment but struggle to contain the beast. If an afflicted person chooses to accept the beast they gain more control over their bestial form, but lose their alignment to the alignment of the kind of lycanthrope they are.

Both Halsin and the canon D&D werebear are Neutral Good. Which means Werebear Halsin is in alignment with his bestial side, offering some manner of control over his transformations.

Only you can prevent shadow curses.

Werebear are described as being lone hermits who guard their territories fiercely, protecting their habitat, and the flora and the fauna from any threat. Sounds like a werebear might get really obsessive trying to rid his territory of, say, a Shadow curse.

Halsin and Thaniel's relationship makes a lot more sense if Halsin is a werebear. They met when Halsin was a child, so Halsin wouldn't have been a druid yet. In D&D druids are a learned class, more like clerics. Certainly Halsin could been a child in touch with nature, but why did Thaniel single him out?

If Halsin was a werebear though, he would have already had a natural desire to protect the land, the land being personified as Thaniel.

The werebear curse is described in D&D as usually being passed on voluntarily, as in a werebear chooses who they want to bite, either a companion or an apprentice. Werefolk curses also pass through bloodlines (as in you can be born a werefolk). The general consensus is if you are born a werefolk you will naturally align with the curse's alignment so you will innately be in more control then a bitten werefolk. We already know Halsin is Neutral Good, like werebears usually are.

This is a more headcanon-y part, but I think Halsin’s family were probably all werebear, or at least one of his parents was and from a lineage that had a history protecting the land Halsin grew up on. Knowing that Halsin's family all passed away, this could also indicate why Thaniel singled him out, maybe Halsin was the last in the werebear lineage that had chosen to defend the land Thaniel personified.

Either way, Halsin and the werebear align in the desire to protect natural spaces, and Halsin's obsession with the shadow curse could stem from that innate desire.

This isn't my first time recruiting a werefolk druid

This is meta evidence, but I'm including it. In BG2 there is a druid named Cernd and he’s a werewolf! What does this have to do with Halsin? Not a lot, but it shows that having a companion who is a werewolf is established in the universe. Cernd also establishes that being a druid helps to control a werecreature curse. Cernd isn’t feral and has greater control over his werewolfism because of his abilities as a druid. Also Cernd has magic items that are from High Forest. If that sounds familiar, it's where Halsin says his family is buried. idk the connection but it's interesting.

Final thoughts

I think that's all?? I also want to talk about why I think the Werebear curse wasn't brought up in game.

One of the other posts I saw suggested that the reason it’s not brought up in game is Halsin doesn’t know he's a werebear. I get that, I can totally see that, but I don’t think that does Halsin justice. Halsin may be a beefy boy, but he isn't oblivious. There is no way Halsin has lived for 350 years and hasn’t realized he’s a werebear. 350 years is a long time not to bite anyone.

I think the more likely explanation in game is simply that it never comes up. Halsin is in control (mostly) and not worried about it. He is also not used to having people who care for him (this is a huge part of his characterization in game), and probably has had to keep the fact that he is a werebear relatively secret throughout his life.

From a meta perspective, I think it was cut for time and content. We KNOW that a lot of his content was cut already (Sorrow, anyone?). There is also the fact that originally one of the other origin characters was going to be a werewolf, so they may have decided to ease back on Halsin being a werebear so she would be more unique. Then she ceased to exist anyway. Personally I think they should have included some dialogue about it somewhere, especially after deciding not to have the werewolf companion. I genuinely can’t FATHOM that werebear Halsin wasn’t the plan all along, regardless of if they decided to cut it. Alright I'm done. Werebear believers unite!

[plussizefantasia]

Hey! Can I get a Thorin x f!reader where the company doesn’t believe in her because of her size and the fact that she’s a woman and then she totally kicks ass and doesn’t care what they think. And he totally regrets ever doubting her? Fluff ending if you can please!!

You Saved Me

Thorin x Warrior!reader

WC: ~3k

warnings: violence, death, it's essentially a botfa re-write so...

a/n: thank you for the request, this was entirely written in a burst of passion at midnight so if they're are any typos I'm sorry, let me know and I'll fix them <3

You were a feared warrior, one with skills you’d been honing since you could walk. Your parents had been killed by an orc pack when you were but a baby and you were taken in by the rangers who found you crying by the bodies of your loved ones. Almost a year ago you were sent a letter by that blasted grey wizard, an invitation, or maybe a plea you weren't sure anymore. Join a company of dwarves on their quest, and keep them safe. That is all he asked of you.

You had tried, you really had tried to keep them safe but when those blasted dwarves took one look at you and decided that there wasn't any possible way you knew anything about fighting, it became difficult. You had several moments where all you wanted to do was clobber them over the head, but you refrained. 

The whole journey was wrought with their endless need to remind you that you were a woman, a bigger one at that. They must’ve thought you hadn’t noticed or something of that nature, for surely they wouldn’t keep bringing it up if not to hurt you on purpose. They never forgot to tell you how much they thought you were soft, incapable, fragile. 

You’d shown them time and time again that this wasn't the case, incapacitating two of the trolls when they were all tied up in sacks ready to be cooked for dinner. You were defending  Ori when you were discovered by the warg scouts before your arrival at Rivendell. You were the first to join ranks and fend off the hundreds of bloodthirsty goblins in Goblin-town. Not to mention how you risked your life for Thorin’s when Azog attacked. You had run in with no weapon, just pure adrenaline and a need to save your leader.Not that you would ever tell him that. Tell any of them that.

Thorin was certainly one of a kind. He was undoubtedly cold, it was his nature, he had lost too much in too short a time to be willing to open himself up to others. Especially when the ‘others’ consisted of a woman ranger he hadn’t wanted on the quest in the first place. You understood though, you too had lost too much.

You wouldn't say that he warmed up to you, but it didn’t seem like he hated you as much as he did in the beginning. You had even caught him smiling once or twice when you cuffed Fili and Kili over the head at their cheeky remarks about your size.

 Over and over again you’ve defended these idiotic men, and yet nothing changed, they still had no faith. Most of them treated you horribly not that you think they noticed. It was hard to ignore their callousness when it came to you, especially compared to the warmth they shared with one another. There were several nights when their words became too much and you had to stray from camp in order to let the tears fall out of sight. But you had promised Gandalf that you would protect them, and if that meant staying even when it was obvious you weren't wanted, then that is what you’d do.

It wasn’t until Thorin, overtaken with his dragon sickness had cast you out that you had finally decided you were done. Done with dwarves, done with being underestimated and belittled at every moment.

“You will never be good enough, you are a burden to all those around you, a burden I no longer wish to be saddled with!” He had yelled from his position on the ramparts as you descended from the same rope that the hobbit had used just moments before. 

Thorin had never been cruel, aloof maybe, but never cruel. You knew deep down that it was his addled mind that allowed this cruelty to spew from his mouth. Thorin may not have known you loved him, but you had thought the two of you had reached a sort of understanding, a mutual bond forged by the danger you’d overcome together. Apparently not.

You joined Gandalf’s side as he spoke to Thorin. You bit your tongue to stop yourself from yelling back at the King Under the Mountain. It wasn't until you heard Thorin’s reply that you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“I will have war!” He yelled.

“You will have death!” You had screamed back “You will have death for you and your kin if you do not stop this foolishness Oakenshield!” With that, you turned and headed back towards the gates of Dale. If there really was to be a war you would be needed, to protect those who could not protect themselves.

You heard the horns of war in the distance and shook your head. Foolish dwarves doing foolish things. You kept running towards Dale hoping to be of some use. 

Arriving at the old armory, you pulled out an old steel sword, one dating back to before the fall of the city. It wasn’t as good as the eleven blades that the elves of Mirkwood confiscated when you were captured, but it was well-balanced. The hilt was wrapped in old black leather, well worn and rough against your skin. 

You didn’t have time to sift for a better weapon, so you took the sword and ran. Bursting out onto the street your eyes scanned for danger. You took in all the rubble, some new and some old from the dragon attack years ago. The screaming of a group of people made you cease your reminiscing and run towards them. 

Taking down several enemies as you run, you finally round the corner into the main square. Landing your sight on Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda. Bain doing his very best to defend his sisters. You run forward without hesitation and trade blows with the monster in front of you, taking him down in no time at all.

“Are you all alright?” You ask rushing towards the girls and helping them down from the cart they had used as a hiding spot.

“We’re fine ma’am” Tilda responds in a shaky voice

“You all were very brave, but now it's time to head to the hall where everyone else is. Take cover, the battlefield is not safe for children I assure you.”

“But-” Bain had cut in.

“No, Bain, I know what your Da has asked of you but I’m telling you to take cover.”

He hesitated but nodded and took his sisters towards the main hall where the rest of the women and children were hiding.

You continue to take down the orcs and their armies as you run toward the main battlefield. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” You hear your name being called, rotating quickly your eyes fall on the hobbit who had become very dear to you over the course of the Journey.

“Bilbo, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” You rushed out

“No. No, I’m fine it’s Thorin.”

“Thorin? What’s happened with Thorin where is he?” Your questioning picked up in intensity.

“The Pale Orc is atop Ravenhill, and Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili have all gone to kill him.” The Hobbit responded just as rushed.

Without another word, you grab the back of the Hobbit’s coat and drag him behind you. Your eyes quickly scan the horizon, taking inventory of anything that could get you to the top of the Mountain quickly. You spot Lord Dain, on his royal ram, and make a plan in your head.

Hobbit still in your grasp you sprint across the field towards the Dwarf Lord,

“Lord Dain! I need your ram.”

“W-What?!” He sputters.

“I am not asking.” You huff out a frustrated breath and use the hand not currently gripping your friend to shove the dwarf off of his steed, quickly taking his place and beginning your trek to the mountain. Sending a quick prayer to whatever being there might be to keep your love safe. Just long enough for you to kill him yourself.

Once you are sure he won’t fall off you let go of your hold on Bilbo and scan the ground flying past you for any more weapons you could use.

Seeing a discarded elven bow and quiver ahead of you, you steer the ram towards it and scoop it off the ground and into your grasp. Five Arrows, you’ll have to use them wisely, but it’s better than nothing.

You look towards Ravenhill, watching as the dwarves you have reluctantly come to care for dismount their own steed. Pushing your heels into the sides of your own ram you pray to any gods out there that you’ll make it in time. 

You meet a few obstacles on your journey, the occasional orc arrow to be deflected, and even a troll who had fallen right in front of you. Nevertheless, in no time at all you reach the peak and search for the men you came to aid. 

You only see Thorin and Dwalin as they fight their way through hordes of creatures of the dark. You leap into the fray and call out to the two warriors

“Where are the princes?” 

“They’ve gone to search the structure.”

A yell coming from the tower quickly puts that thought to rest. You slash down the last monster before you quickly shift to see a sight that you’ll have a hard time forgetting. The pale orc holds Fili in his grasp. You immediately grasp your bow and nock an arrow. 

The pale orc is too absorbed in his victory speech to notice you pulling back the string. With a deep breath, you let an arrow loose and send a quick prayer that it hits its target. Not a second later you hear a deep grunt and see that your aim is true. The arrow lodged itself deep into the meat of the arm holding the dwarf prince. He drops Fili in surprise and your eyes widen in fear. However, it is short-lived as Fili pulls a dagger out of nowhere and wedges into the stone of the tower, slowing his descent.

Four arrows left. 

Azog staggers back and he catches himself on the wall behind him. His eyes find yours and you try not to shudder at the rage within him. This is a benefit you tell yourself. An angry enemy is a distracted enemy. His rage will be his downfall, you’ll make sure of it.

Fili lets go of the dagger and drops the rest of the distance, landing on his feet and quickly running to your side. Moments later, Kili runs from the tower and practically lunges for his brother. 

“You idiot Fee.” The brother's embrace is hard and you’re a little worried they’ll suffocate each other. Eventually, Kili lets go and turns to you, “Thank you. And I’m sorry.” 

“No need for apologies Kili. Gandalf asked me to protect you, and that’s what I’ve done.”

“Still, I underestimated you, I won’t do it again.” You nod at the prince and clap a hand on his shoulder. 

“I have to go help your uncle, don’t follow me, and whatever you do don’t split up. You’re stronger together.”

“Aye.” They both reply and send a single nod your way.

You clutch your bow and scan your surroundings, a trail of black blood and a broken arrow stem point the way to the Pale Orc’s location. 

“Fili, you wouldn’t happen to have an extra dagger would you?” You turn and ask. He smirks and opens his coat. 

“Take your pick Lass.”

After grabbing two matching daggers from Fili you begin jogging towards the frozen waterfall. You are single-minded in your task, ignoring the shouts of battle from below and the wails of the dying. You cannot let yourself get distracted. Distraction means death and you can’t help anyone when you’re dead.

You come upon a scene that you’d only ever had nightmares about. Thorin and Azog facing off on a barren plane. Neither is holding back and you force yourself to push past the terror that grips your heart. As you run towards your king you begin releasing arrows one after the other. 

Four. Three. Two. One. None.

Each arrow pierces the flesh of the monster pushing him back and back. Blow after blow sends him staggering and gives Thorin the advantage. He swings his sword and slashes at the beast.  But Azog does not fall. 

He yells. He stands and he starts returning blows. They are sloppy, his mace has no aim. It doesn’t need to, the force he puts behind it means he really only has to land one blow. 

You can’t run fast enough to cover the distance, especially not on the ice. Nevertheless, you keep pushing. Your legs burn and so do your lungs but you keep going. You race against time and fate to reach the dwarf you love. 

Thorin falls. The orc closes in. You run.

And run, and run, and run. 

You don’t notice the battle cry that rips from your body, but the orc does. 

He looks up and a sneer crosses his face. 

You get closer.

You pull your daggers.

The orc stands. 

You take a running jump.

Azog runs. 

You smile.

This is foolish. You understand that, not even you as skilled as you are could take down a beast such as this. But you’ll try because you made two promises. One to Gandalf, that you would keep the company safe. And another to yourself, that if you survived this you would stop being afraid, you would tell Thorin you love him and… 

Your daggers land in the Pale Orc’s shoulder blades. You hold on for dear life. His roar of pain nearly deafens you but you hold on still. Ripping one blade from his body you jab it at his neck. He grabs the back of your coat and pulls you away, you scratch him but nothing more. He lifts you into the air and looks into your eyes. The rage is still there, along with smugness, bloodlust, curiosity, and then - shock. His grip loosens and you fall to the ground. 

You scramble away from him, grasping the ice with shaking hands. You stand and turn. Azog is still, frozen in time. Except now, there is a sword piercing his chest. Right where his heart should be, protrudes a sword you know very well. 

Azog grips the blade and looks at you, then falls. He doesn’t get up.

Behind him stands Thorin, looking mightier than you’ve ever seen him. His hair is a mess and there is blood on his face and hands. Yet he’s never looked better. You run towards him and throw yourself into his arms. A laugh escapes you and you let yourself feel for a moment. Feel grateful, and scared and everything you’ve been holding back for the past few days. 

Thorin’s grip on you is strong and you can feel the tremor in his hands as he guides them up and down your back.

“You saved me.” His deep timber pulls you from your thoughts. “Why?”

“I made a promise to Gan-”

“No, you fulfilled your pledge to the Wizard the moment we made it to the mountain, yet you stayed. Why?” Thorin pulls his chest away from yours and attempts to catch your gaze with his.

“Is this really the time?” You ask. 

“When else?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Perhaps after the battle is over?” You fully pull away from him then. 

Thorin pauses, perhaps like you, he had briefly forgotten the battle warring on below you in a moment of joy. But he nods to you and walks back toward the lifeless body of your foe. He rips his sword out of the body. He flips Azog onto his back so his lifeless eyes gaze emptily at the sky. Thorin turns to you, “Perhaps you should look away.” he addresses you.

You simply raise an eyebrow at him. He nods and grasps the sword firmly. From one moment to the next Thorin separates Azog’s head from his body. He takes hold of it and walks towards the edge of the frozen lake, which looks out onto the field below. 

He lets out a mighty shout and hoists the fallen orc’s head into the air. Shrieks echo from below and the enemy begins to retreat. 

You’ve won.

Thorin drops his head and turns to face you, a rare smile graces his face and for the first time since you met him, it truly seems like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders, for at least a moment.

It takes you three seconds to get in front of him, one second to grab ahold of his head, and another to kiss him. Five seconds, five seconds of bravery that you will probably never be able to muster again.

Thorin kisses you back with fervor, gripping you as through he thought you might fade away. Eventually, the need for air separates you. 

“That is why I saved you,” you whisper into the space between you, “because a life without you in it is one I do not wish to bear.”

“You’ll never have to.” is his reply before his mouth is on you again. Where the first kiss was full of passion, a burst of adrenaline between two people. This one is slow, like Thorin is savoring the moment like he is trying to memorize what it is like to have you. The moment is bliss, it's everything you wanted and thought you couldn’t have. 

And then it is ruined. A sharp whistle and laugh from across the lake separates the two of you once more. You turn and see Fili and Kili, holding each other and worse for wear but alive and smiling which you’ll take as a win.

The boys make their way towards you, Thorin never releases his hold on your waist.

“Is it over?” Fili asks.

‘It is now.” Thorin responds.

“Now what?” Kili pops up. Scanning the area around him.

‘We live.” Is your simple reply. Like Kili, you take a moment to look around you. And you really like what you see.

[astarion-approves]

Drabble request: Astarion having to work through the logistics of kissing his much shorter lover (like a gnome or halfling)

Astarion x GN! Short reader

Fluff, silly, slightly ooc, mostly SFW - referenced past bedding together. NO BETA and very lazy proof reading.

-------

This relationship with Astarion was admittedly off to a strange start.

In the beginning, the vampire seemed to avoid you, his behavior uncertain whenever he was around you. He wasn’t necessarily shy, not exactly — but more so because he didn’t know how to behave around you…

Because you’re short.

More often than not you would find his eyes on you, and you thought that he might be sizing you up. Although you were strong, many thought you would go down easily based on your height. A judgment that would always end in their demise.

However, then the comments began.

“Such an adorable little creature, I wish I could put you in my pocket.”

“You know, you’re at the perfect height to— Hm, Nevermind.”

“Have you ever slept with someone taller than you? … Would you care to try it?”

And then you slept together.

Maybe it was after defeating an entire army of goblins, or maybe it was this building tension between you, but you were pulled together so quickly that you never had the time to figure out what this relationship was.

And ever since that first night… Astarion has been making excuses to kiss you, and it was always in the form of dropping something next to you.

Walking through the cities, hiking over a mountain, in the middle of battle, Astarion would ‘accidentally’ drop something next to you and take the opportunity to kiss you.

“Shit.”

Astarion stood next to your bedding, having just dropped a comb onto the ground next to you.

“Oh my. How embarrassing.”

Then he bent down, reaching for the comb but his gaze focused on you. He smiled, leaning close to you, his lips glossy and tempting—

“Well, I suppose while I’m down here…. I could kiss you.”

The kisses were always soft, filled with so much tenderness that you never expected with such a creature. A slight brush of his tongue over your lips, teasing you, daring you to deepen the kiss and take it even further.

‘Astarion.’

You place your hand against his chest, gently pushing him back.

‘You don’t have to keep dropping things to kiss me.’

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you, a slow creeping of blush blooming on his cheeks.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just clumsy is all.”

‘Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me then?’

He sighed before dropping himself next to you and kicking his legs out in front of himself.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying at all, darling.”

Astarion chucked to himself, shaking his head as he did.

“I wasn’t sure what this was. Us. Together.”

‘I like you.’

He straightened up, clearing his throat and blushing even harder now at your blunt confession.

“Do you now? Well… in that case we could try being together.”

‘I would like that.’

“A good thing too, I was running out of things to drop. I was going to start making excuses with needing to tie my shoes…”

You both look down to his boots as he rotates them side to side in front of himself, and you can’t help but laugh.

‘Astarion, you boots have no laces.’

“Exactly. That would have been very embarrassing…”

[fbfh]

Sweet Pea x soft!reader hcs

wc: 1.3k

genre: mutual pining, tooth rotting fluff

pairing: sweet pea x soft reader

warnings: reader is implied to be smaller than sweet pea but he's like 6'3 and beefy so it's not too out of the question, reader is called clingy needs attention and hates being alone by jughead but sweet pea LOVES that about you, size difference, protective sweet pea, sweet pea is a rottweiler boyfriend, kisses and cuddles, mentions of fighting and gang activity

song recs: fight for me - heathers obc, big boy - sza

a/n: been watching the anime my love story and it's feuling my sweet pea obsession lol. I've also decided that while horribly bad, riverdale is camp. If I convince myself it's camp I can drag myself through it. It's supposed to be bad and make no sense and of course there's a "goblin king" running around town causing problems because it's camp.

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280

Okay so like I said in my initial drabble

When Sweet Pea first sees you he deadass thinks you’re an angel

You are so sweet and soft and perfect

The only way to describe you is angelic

He’s so wrapped up in how alluring and enamoring you are that he doesn’t notice you’re just as drawn to him

You immediately see past his gorgeous and intimidating exterior to the soft great big heart inside him

You see all his good traits and you’re not scared off that he’s a little rough around the edges

But Sweet Pea sees that you’re not rough around the edges

And he doesn’t want you to become that way

Especially not because of him

He feels so protective over you from day one

Even though he’s fighting his obvious feelings for you and ignoring your obvious feelings for him, he still tries to look out for you

Keeps an eye on you a little, just to make sure no one’s giving you any trouble

You’re friends with Betty so you’re sort of tied to the serpents already, but he doesn’t want to drag you any deeper into gang life than you already are

So he tries not to fall any harder for you than he already has

Even though Jughead is always bringing you up, telling him that Betty says you’ve been asking after him

He can’t even process that Jughead just said you’ve been asking after him and about him a lot because of how Jughead keeps describing you

He says you’re sort of clingy and need a lot of attention, that you get nervous in crowds and you’re really touchy and hate being alone 

That’s why your last boyfriend broke up with you

But the more Jughead talks about you and your apparent flaws, the more perfect you sound to Sweet Pea

You’re exactly what he’s been dreaming of

Someone he can go all in with, someone who wants him and needs him as much as he wants you and needs you

Which is obviously a lot

And now it’s getting harder and harder to listen to that logical voice that tells him he’s no good for you, that you deserve someone from northside who can take good care of you and not drag you into any more chaos than you’re already surrounded by 

But you’ve been writing his name in your diary over and over for weeks now, and it’s really just a matter of time before you end up together 

All your friends know this

Betty and Jughead and Toni know this

Even Fangs knows this

Everyone knows but you and Sweet Pea

You both still think it’s an unreciprocated pipe dream

Something to imagine scenarios about before you fall asleep

You’re more alike than you realize 

But soon you find your way to each other

You just can’t stay away anymore

And once you’re together, once you’re finally in his arms, neither of you ever want to let go

Sweet Pea is an amazing boyfriend to begin with

But especially when it comes to someone as soft and sweet and precious as you?????

He’s literally the best person you could ever hope for

He’s a classic rottweiler boyfriend 

AND he’s a gang boyfriend

Plus Sweet Pea’s just naturally a very protective person to the people he loves

So you can guarantee you’ll be safe with him

He won’t hesitate to stare down anyone he thinks looks at you too long

But he’s not going to start shit with you around unless he has to

If he does need to fight someone, he’s going to make sure you’re not there to see it

Even if he has to ask Betty or Veronica or Fangs to drag you into the other room and stay with you until it’s over

He doesn’t want you to see him like that

But he knows how to hold his own, and Fangs and Toni both reassure you there’s not a fight he hasn’t been able to walk away from

You’re always there to patch him up afterwards too

You touch him so gently

With more love and care and tenderness than he’s ever gotten from anyone before

It makes it kind of impossible to regret sticking up for you

Even if he did walk away with some nasty scratches and a black eye

You’re still not scared of him

You don’t judge him

Like at all

He always makes you feel so safe around him 

All he’s wanted for a while is someone to go all in with

Someone to protect, someone to take care of

Someone who needs him

And you do 

You spend more and more nights together before finally confessing that you can’t really sleep without him anymore

When I tell you his heart explodes when you say that?????

God as if you couldn’t get him wrapped even tighter around your finger

Surprise! Yes you can

He dips you a lot too

Mostly because he’s so tall and it’s so easy and it makes you so nervous when he pulls you close and leans over you like that

It makes you all dizzy and he talks so close to your face for a few moments before finally kissing you

GOD it makes your head spin

You can’t get enough

And he can’t get enough of the way you look up at him all soft and sweet

Like you’re not scared of him

Which you’re not

It’s still kind of new for him

But it’s something he really hopes he can get used to

He’s touchy too

He pulls you into his lap and rests his head on your shoulder a lot

Or wraps his arms around yours

Don’t even get me started on holding his big old hands with both of yours

It makes his stomach flip every single time

And SO MANY FOREHEAD KISSES

You kiss his neck and jaw a lot too

Mostly because it’s all you can reach half the time

And because you know it drives him completely crazy

If you ever worried about getting unwanted attention from guys, you don’t have to anymore

EVERYBODY knows you’re Sweet Pea’s 

And EVERYBODY knows not to fuck with him

Sweet Pea can be fucking terrifying when he wants to

Which makes things like him pinning you to the couch and tickling you until you tap out and you’re both blushing giggly wrecks even cuter  

You completely and totally have scary boyfriend privileges 

And you take such good care of him too

He really doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy and content and at peace

His friends can easily attest to the fact that they’ve never seen him this happy either

And your friends have never seen you this happy too 

Over all, you’re really just a fantastic match

You become the emotional support couple of riverdale high so fast

People get used to seeing him walk you to classes he doesn’t even have 

Seeing you ride around town on the back of his motorcycle together 

Because you belong together

You really do

Sweet Pea might not know what the future is going to look like

He might not know what’s going to happen tomorrow

But the only thing he does know about his future is that you’re going to be in it

And he’s going to be in yours

You’re starting to make him dream about a soft domestic life away from gangs and murder and conspiracies

He doesn’t know if that’s practical or attainable, but he hopes it is

Until then, he’s more than happy just getting to be around you

Getting to see you all the time and wake up next to each other on the weekends

He loves loving you, he loves keeping you safe and happy

Just like you love him and keep him happier than he’s ever been

Just being with you is more than enough

[legacygirlingreen]

That time of year again… // Sebastian Sallow x Reader/MC (NSFW)

Hi friends! I have been battling the flu for a week now so there’s a delay on strumming hearts pt 2 but I managed to scrap this together for those who celebrate Christmas! Also hella unedited so RIP.. anyways, Hope your day has been fantastic!

Screenshots in art by: @sinty2ek - seriously check out their page, it’s great if you aren’t already following 💚

Warning: smut (duh), Sebastian gets dom for a moment but overall is worried about her, loss of virginity, consent is hot, size difference, etc

Word count: 7,700

All characters are aged up and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The first December after the events in Feldcroft, he had come down with a bout of dragon pox that landed him in the hospital wing for weeks. The second his finals had come to an end he wound up in a bed, with nurse Blainey rushing around him, and he didn’t realize what exactly was happening until the first of the year when he was released. In a way, he’d been thankful, that not really being conscious or alert through the worst part of the year.

That vile illness saved him from going to an empty home with too many bad memories to sulk and more than likely drink his uncle's firewhiskey. He had “come too” so to speak the morning of his birthday - New Year’s Eve or Hogmanay for the Scots - but in his house it had always been about celebrating himself and Anne. Knowing he’d be unable to grieve the loss of his sister from his life with nurse Blainey in the room he laid in the hospital bed trying by any means to distract himself.

She had come around several times seeing he was much better but still not quite healthy to be released. As his energy grew so had his restlessness. He was so grateful when his friend, the only one he had anymore, had so sweetly continued to try and attempt to see him. He had heard snippets throughout his stay from the nurse about how the girl had frequently attempted to come see him, and she’d caught the girl trying to sneak in a few times, firmly reassuring the hero of Hogwarts that dragon pox was no laughing matter.

It warmed his heart when he was finally awake at how the pile of books slowly started to accumulate, giving him a much needed distraction. She even slipped in a title to the stack he knew she must’ve stolen from the restricted section, and the thought of her puttering around amongst the ghost to get him comfort while sick, made him smile.

And on his birthday in the morning when he awoke he saw a small slice of cake alongside a neatly wrapped gift and a small note containing his name. Blainey had informed him how desperately the girl had begged to stay on the far side of the hospital just to see him and how upset she’d been handing off the gift and pastry before sulking back downstairs.

As sweet as it all was, he was somewhat grateful to the nurse for keeping the girl away. Not only would he never be able to live with himself should he be the reason she contracted the often fatal illness, but he honestly didn’t want to be seen like that.

He’d been quite honest with himself over that first summer holiday on his feelings for the girl. He had come to terms with the awful ways in which he’d treated her and decided her miracle of not turning him in and standing by him should never go wasted. In those hot months in feldcroft he decided that he’d never hurt her again. And perhaps one day he’d tell her how he felt.

Because as the first July without Anne and Solomon raged on as he tended the garden, all he continued to think of was her shimmering eyes dreamily staring up at his own in amazement as he showed her the undercroft. Or how silky her hair had shown in the moonlight that night they raided the goblin mine. How small she felt pressed against him when he’d pulled her to safety from that spider. How brilliant her smile was when they discovered the first of Isadora’s memories. Or how she held him so tightly the night before they left hogwarts in May when she’d found him crying in the undercroft…

But that former Yule where he laid in a hospital bed, covered in sweat, scabs and looking like death itself, he was almost more thankful that the nurse had prevented the girl of his dreams from seeing his current state. Sebastian had always been a bit cocky. And he knew that he had some baseline qualities to which made him attractive, despite the ones he tended to dislike. He often hoped his messy hair would be considered more charming in her eyes. Or she’d notice that he’d started shaving by purposefully leaving it a few days sometimes so she’d have to notice the dark hair adorning his chin. He found the few of his features he could be proud of and he was thankful that she’d not seen him sick when she’d left that sweet gift.

The girl had dropped off a blank, leather bound journal, simply explaining in her note how proud she’d been of him for not messing with dark magic and that she hoped he’d use the journal to vent his feelings, frustrations, discoveries and anything else as he continued to turn over a new leaf. It had been sweet and something he’d never done before but if he was honest in the last year he’d nearly filled the damn thing after he taped in her note to the first page.

That remaining school year and the start of the current left him following around her like a lost crup puppy. Although feeling a bit self conscious earlier on about his newly acquired dragon pox scars adorning his body and the few on his face, he quickly resolved the issue when she come to him with a potion to cure it that she promised she had done the heavy lifting with garreth on. It overall did the charm and returned his face and skin to its original state.

Anywhere she needed to go after that, he was there. She needed someone to hold books? Sebastian had two hands. She needed an escort through the forbidden forest to find a lost niffler? He was carrying the small creature back for her. She wanted company even on a night he was exhausted? He’d brave the lack of sleep and stay up with her.

At some point during the year she had come to him and confessed she hadn’t been sleeping well, professor Weasley and her head of house recommending she relocate to her room of requirement instead of a dorm so she wouldn’t disturb her roommates with the nightmares.

So every once in a while when he too was struggling to fall asleep he’d find a note slipping under his dormitory door and he’d be slipping off to the tapestry in the hall to make sure she was okay.

Deek had found them most mornings still awake by the fire just chatting and decided perhaps Matilda didn’t need to know everything. Not even on the rare mornings he found Mr Sallow’s arms wrapped around his dear friend as they both slept soundly in her conjured bed. As far as Deek was concerned both children desperately needed whatever sleep they got, and the hero of Hogwarts only seemed to sleep in the arms of that Slytherin boy with the brown eyes that never left her.

As they found themselves in their seventh year, Ominis eventually trickled back into their lives. Having seen the changes made by Sebastian, and the reassurance from the girl he truly had given up after the damage he brought, Ominis decided that his found family was still better than his birth family. Despite that, he still had obligations at Yule until he was of age, leaving the pair behind as he boarded the train in Hogsmeade in December.

Sebastian wasn’t looking forward to Christmas this year. Not that he truly had for a while - Yule always brought forth the nasty reminder of those who were missing - a number that was increasing for him by the years. But this was going to be the first he was actually conscious for after his sister left. Given the previous dragon pox year he wasn’t sure what was going to happen this year.

Almost as if sensing his nervousness going into the holidays she approached him during dinner the last day of their examinations as she sat down gently and leaned a hand over to place on his arm, startling him out of his deep thoughts while he stared at his mashed potatoes.

Hey Bash, are you alright?

He looked up with a small jump as he saw her brow furrowed and her gaze laced with concern. Her sweet voice caused that ever present stirring to arise in his stomach as he sighed and turned towards her, making her drop her hand from his bicep in the process.

“I suppose” he said after a moment looking down and seeing where her thigh was almost pressed against his own and where she had laced her hands together in her lap after she let go of him.

After a beat of silence she spoke again.

“You’re feeling sad about the holidays this year aren’t you?” She asked and he almost let out a small yelp at how wonderfully she was able to capture exactly what he’d been thinking without him even having to explain himself.

Looking back at her empathetic expression he nodded. Of course she was understanding. She had always been nothing but caring since the day he’d met her.

Sighing, she averted her gaze and grabbed one of his forgotten peeled orange slices off his plate and popped it into her mouth, slowly allowing the fruits somewhat bitter-sweetness to coat her tongue before she swallowed and looked back at him.

“This is the time of year I feel the most alone” she admitted as she looked back up at him from her seat on the Slytherin bench.

Sebastian recalled the times she had mentioned growing up in a muggle orphanage in London. How abysmally poor and mismanaged it was run. How professor Fig had come, lying that he was a long lost relative to the nuns before “bringing her home” as he explained to the young witch that she had accidentally wound up at a muggle orphanage instead of a magic one when her parents were discovered dead by non magical policemen when she was an infant.

Spending her first Christmas at Hogwarts when Professor Fig was still alive had been wonderful. she’d been allowed to travel to visit him and Ominis and Anne during the last Christmas he’d had at feldcroft with the professor just during the day. Sebastian also remembered fondly how happy she looked celebrating Yule with them before she returned to hogwarts for the rest of the holiday: not before giving him a quick kiss to the cheek and scurrying off behind the late man. It had been Sebastian’s first decent Christmas since his parents died.

Now the pair sat in the great hall carrying the weight of loss and loneliness as they went uncertainty into the holiday season.

“I don’t want to go back to Feldcroft alone this year” he admitted bluntly as he continued to peel the orange, handing her a slice as he ate another. As they silently ate the fruit he kept thinking about how he felt conflicted in returning. A part of him hoped Anne would show up again but he knew deep down it was unlikely.

“What if… what if you didn’t go back to Feldcroft? What if you stayed here… with me?” She asked quietly without looking up at him.

Sebastian had wondered if he should stay at the school given he had no family to return to, but he worried she see him as imposing as hogwarts truly was the only home she had.

“You want me to stay?” He asked, unsure if she meant it but hopeful she did want him there.

“Of course I would. I always want you around. I think it’s silly for us both to be alone during Christmas if we have each other we could be keeping company.” she explained as she finally looked again.

“What about our dorm rooms-“ he asked as she shook her head with a small amount of blushing working its way to her face.

“We can stay in the room of requirement. Professor Weasley was returning home this year so she won’t be checking in and last anyone heard you were going to feldcroft. Only one who would know is Deek and he would never tell a soul. That is, if you are interested…” she explained to him.

He almost stuttered in his reply, taking in that the girl was willingly offering him to stay with her for an extended period of time alone and unsupervised. Sure he occasionally fell asleep there when she invited him but never for multiple nights in a row and with the intention directly.

“You want me to stay with you alone?” He asked and she gently nodded.

“I would. We can conjure a tree and decorate it together in the main room. Take care of the beasts in the vivariums and sneak down the library to get books to read… it could be fun” she reasoned and he nodded.

“Alright. I think I would really like that. Only if you’re sure you are alright with it. I can also sleep on the settee in the main room-“ he offered and she shook her head, opening her mouth to speak before pausing and looking down.

“You can if you prefer that, but I -“ she trailed off as she looked at his wild expression before continuing as she tucked one of those stray hairs so often around her face behind her ear as she admitted, “I do sleep better when you are around… the nightmares don’t usually happen when you are with me…” she told him.

He knew the feeling. In fact he knew it so well that the only peaceful sleep he often found was in her room when they fell asleep after hours of talking together. He never knew how but eventually once he would calm her down and they’d talk, he would wake up the next morning with her nestled against his body as if during the night they had reached over to hold one another.

“I-“ he paused, raking his own hands in his hair as he also admitted, “me too. I think the only real sleep I’ve gotten all year has been in the room of requirement”

“So you’ll stay? With me?” She asked and he nodded.

“I’d love to”

————————

The next morning he’d slipped out of his nearly empty Slytherin dorm room with a small bag over his shoulder of the stuff he usually brought home. Some clothes that weren’t his school uniforms, a few books, a quill and some ink, some snacks, the few toiletries he had and the journal she’d given him the previous year. As he snuck down the empty halls he came across the door to the room or requirement, now revealing itself to him with no problem, before he pushed inside.

Once there he could see the always lit fire in the main room, the vivariums grand entrances, along with all her potting and potions stations. Something about the place always felt so inherently homie and incredibly authentic to her.

“Uh…” he looked around seeing the absence of the witch who had invited him, knowing it was really early in the morning and she possibly could still be asleep, but usually she rose earlier. As he went to check the small bedroom that had appeared a few months prior, the door opened behind him and she shuffled in carrying a small basket.

“Oh, you’re already here. I snuck down to the kitchen for some breakfast and I was going to pop by the dungeons later-“ she started to ramble as he looked at her clothes.

Most of the time she wore her uniform, as most students did, but when she wasn’t in her robes she usually looked a tad mismatched. Often finding random articles of clothing with protection charms while exploring, she wore a tacky blend of them. The girl also usually opted for trousers not skirts or dresses as exploring was easier when you weren’t “worried about the wind blowing up or fabric getting caught” by her own words.

Instead she stood before him in possibly the first time he’d ever seen her without trousers or one of those hideous wool skirts all the students wore. She had a white blouse with an emerald green dress overtop that had only a few white embellishments along the skirt. It wasn’t the most elegant of dresses but it certainly was beautiful, especially since he rarely saw her like this.

He set his bag down and walked towards her, and upon further inspection she also had her hair tied back - not an uncommon sight - but she’d left most of it down, only pulling the front strands out of her way as she tied it back with a bow.

Very different from how he usually saw her.

Upon realizing he had been staring she felt self conscious, asking him “how do I look?” As she awkwardly stroked the material of her skirt down with her free hand.

“You look beautiful” he said without a second thought before he looked at her face, something he’d done so often but as her eyes softened he realized he shouldn’t affirm she looked this way only because of the clothes or change to her hair.

“You are beautiful” he spoke when he found himself planted in front of her, boldly admiring her face and not the wardrobe.

She noticed his correction along with the implications it carried as she fell under the wonderful scrutiny of his gaze. As she did so, she turned to take in his appearance with his lack of the Slytherin robes, swamping them for a simple shirt and vest as he stood in front of her. Usually disguised by school cloaks she could see how wide his shoulders had gotten, along with the exposed skin of his forearms from where he’d rolled his sleeves up. The skin that usually laid covered, now proudly displaying the freckled skin below the light dusting of dark hair, as well as his veins that went into his hand.

“You okay?” She heard his voice ask gently as she looked up from his hands to his face once more.

“Sorry, yeah, I mean thank you-“ she told him as she moved past him and walked down the stairs of the main room into the back area. Sebastian didn’t question as he followed her down into the deeper parts of the room.

Once they emerged in the area he noticed there was a large tree in the middle of the room with some pillow cushions on the floor in front of the fireplace. He realized she must’ve been awake a while to have conjured a tree and made the cozy nest where they likely would read together during the day.

“You’ve been busy” he teased as she walked them over to the fireplace and lifted her skirt ever so slightly so she could settle herself on the ground comfortably.

“I just wanted you to feel as at homey as possible” she explained as he sat down next to her, his long legs stretching out in front of them. Looking between their bodies he noticed her hand sat atop one of the cushions on the floor and he carefully plucked it from the space between them.

As he ran his fingers over the delicate and soft skin of her hand he tried to ignore the way his cheeks flamed at his bold action.

“I really appreciate the effort but you don’t have to play host you know? I am just happy to spend time with you” he explained as he looked at her, giving a reassuring squeeze to her hand to truly affirm his words.

She didn’t respond as she stared at the way he continued to clutch her much smaller hand. He worried she would seem disappointed by his request to remain as laid back as possible so he in turn shifted the conversation.

“You said you grabbed breakfast?” He asked and she pulled her hand back to grab the basket, opening it up with a smile to show the goodies she had brought. As she continued to go through the options he couldn’t shake the way her hand in his own had felt like the most incredibly natural act in the world.

———————

After a day of reading, exploring the room, decorating the tree together, and just talking he was on cloud nine. Everything had felt so comfortable, so natural, as they fell into a rhythm alongside one another.

That was, until it was time for bed.

Once again he insisted if she preferred him to sleep on the sofa he would more than happily oblige, understanding that sleeping in the same bed carried heavy implications. She swiftly reminded him that they had indeed fallen asleep in the very bed in her room of requirement before. But for Sebastian, those moments had never been intentional, and to do so from the jump felt like a much deeper step.

To go to bed willingly alongside one another felt like the kind of thing reserved for married couples, certainly not friends of the opposing genders. And especially not a friend he often dreamed about kissing… as well as other more intense and vulgar things…

Regardless, her sweet smile and bright big eyes told him it was okay in her book, and who was he to question that. So as she slipped off into the small bathroom area to change for bed he stripped himself of his clothes and quickly threw on his own night clothes, tossing his dirty ones in his bag just as she returned.

Sebastian hadn’t recalled ever seeing the nightgown she wore. Usually she had something much thicker and denser but this one seemed… thin.

It was suddenly as if Sebastian’s mouth had lost all its moisture and he couldn’t help but stare as the silk she wore seemed to hug areas he usually wasn’t granted access to see.

Since when had her breasts been this full? Has she always had such an intense dip in her waist?

“Sebastian?” She asked him in mild concern as he stared distantly, his mind very much elsewhere as she came closer to where he stood slack jawed. When she found herself in front of him, he looked at her like a wild animal that had been caught by a hunter.

“I…” he trailed off as he took one more, very obvious, look down at her barely clothed breast. The view from up close confirmed his suspicions that she had forgone any form of camisole as the brief outline of her nipple shown through the silk.

“What’s wrong?” She asked gently, not fully comprehending his reaction.

“I… I think I may need to sleep out there” he said shyly as he pointed to the main area, his voice much more painned than he intended it to sound. At his explanation her heart fell as she couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.

“But why? Did I do something to upset you?”

“What?” He asked her as he looked at her hair which he realized was now completely down, something he’d never been privy to see before. It made him want to reach out and touch the long strands and see if they were just as silky as he imagined.

Quickly snapping his eyes back to her suddenly saddened expression he firmly said “You’ve done nothing wrong”. This further plagued the girl as she couldn’t place why exactly he was acting in this manor.

“I don’t understand. I thought you said you slept better when we were here together… Don’t you want to share the bed?” Her hurt expression cut through him as he realized she was still not understanding that his resistance was not due to anything about her personally… more or less it was about his lack of control in regards to his wandering hands should they lay in the same bed all night.

“Come here,” Sebastian explained as he sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing her palm and pulling her to do the same. She simply sat next to him as he turned to face her, his knee slightly framing her hips and he did his best to try and ignore how close they really were.

I don’t trust myself.

If she hadn’t watched him say it she wouldn’t have believed he muttered the words.

“What do you mean-“ she asked and Sebastian almost grew frustrated with the girl for her lack of awareness at how much of a beauty she was, along with the fact he was so irrevocably in love with her it pained him.

“I mean you are too bloody gorgeous like this that I don’t trust myself to behave like a gentleman” he let out with a frustrated sigh. He knew he shouldn’t get so worked up, especially not to show frustration at her, but the throbbing starting in his lower region was making it hard to fully concentrate on his emotions.

All he heard was her gasp, fearing she’d seen the arousal in his night trousers but when he looked up, all Sebastian saw was the girl cautiously clutching her hair trying to make sense of his words.

Closing his eyes, he ran his hand over his face. Why was he such an idiot? She probably thought him some sort of delinquent. She probably hated him. She-

She had turned her body to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder when he opened his eyes.

“Bash” her timid tone called out and all he could muster upon having her so close was an eyebrow raise to acknowledge he heard her speak.

What if I don’t want you to behave like a gentleman?

Sebastian wasn’t sure he heard her correctly or if he was about to wake up from another one of those wet deans where he stained his sheets dreaming about being buried inside her.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for” he reasoned, knowing how innocent in many regards she seemed. It wouldn’t surprise him if no one had explained the marital act to her at all.

Instead of replying she simply inched closer until she was directly in front of him. Sebastian anticipated her to stop but when she cautiously climbed on his lap his breathing stopped. He kept his hand firmly planted at his sides as she settled herself atop him, her hands resting on his shoulders for support.

“I do know what you’re referring to,” she said bluntly and her boldness made him question just how much he might know of her. Behind those innocent gazes perhaps she’d been a temptress this whole time and he was just to blind by his affections to notice.

He hadn’t realized she had lifted one of his hands until he saw her concentrated expression examining his right hand up close. She studied the calloused skin of his palm before placing his open hand along her waist. Suddenly he felt the warmth of her skin through the silk nightgown along with the beautiful dip of her curves that laid underneath.

“I thought, but you-“ he couldn’t think of an intelligent response as she looked at his face. This led to the both of them staring at one another in silence as he kept his hand firmly planted where she’d left it.

Leaning forward she placed her fingers lightly on his chin, noting the stubble growing from his face as she traced over it. He’d shaved it in the morning but she always enjoyed seeing the small, dark hairs when he stayed with her after nightmares.

“If I ask you to kiss me, are you going to run away Sebastian?” She asked him while continuing to trace her fingertips over his face in the areas his facial hair had started to grow.

Sebastian didn’t reply as his hand finally tightened and curved over her waist. Lifting the other, he placed it on her cheek gently as he let his eyes move to her own.

“Are you sure? If I’m honest I don’t think I can ever let things go back to normal if we do that” he admitted to her with a sigh.

Of course he wanted her. Wanted to be with her. Wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lay with her. But if this was just some Christmas Eve fun that never would go anywhere he couldn’t stomach it.

Instead of replying she simply leaned forward into his hand, smiling to herself as she felt the warmth of his palm against her skin. Sebastian took a shaky inhale at realizing she was signaling he could go ahead while she looked at him through her heavy lidded lashes.

Exhaling gently he leaned forward just enough to ever so softly press his lips to hers.

He could hear the way she inhaled sharply through her nose before he felt the slight pressure of her returning the kiss. It was cautious. Unsure. But still she continued to press on physically and metaphorically.

Sebastian let out a groan as he felt one of her hands tighten in his dark hair, her fingers weaving in and out of the locks along his sensitive nape. In response he pulled her closer to him by the hands firmly planted on her waist and cheek.

Feeling herself more tightly wrapped in his embrace she gained more confidence in the movements, shifting on his lap ever so slightly and letting out a gasp and breaking the kiss when she felt that beautiful ache between her legs at pressing upon his hard thigh.

She had touched herself before, sometimes rutting into a pillow to find relief, but to use the boys thigh in seeking that feeling once more she felt electrified.

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel the full extent of the throbbing in his pants, when he realized she was humping his thigh to get off. The girl he assumed knew little, quickly proving him wrong as her gasps and sighs carved into his neck.

“Hey..” he told her, moving his hand down to her hip to still her movement for a brief moment as she removed her blush covered face from the privacy of his neck.

“I need some guidance on where exactly this is headed” he asked her.

“You’ve always rushed unto everything with no plan before. Why do you need one now?” She retorted one more trying to find the friction she desired on his lap.

Sebastian let out a soft groan as her center moved over his erection and he paused as he considered her words.

“That’s different… I don’t want to be disrespectful or hurt you. I have read that sometimes intercourse can be painful for the woman and I would never want to cause you harm” he explained and she rolled her eyes, catching him off guard with her frustration.

“I’m not made of glass Seb” she told him before aggressively beginning to kiss the side of his neck. Teeth nipping, lips sucking and tongue soothing the skin as she once again resumed rutting her hips.

“But-“

“Oh Merlin, would you just let me do it” she said frustratingly as she pushed his shoulders back until he fell on the bed, as she crawled over top of his shocked form.

Sebastian barely had a chance to get a word in before she was unbuttoning his sleep shirt. He didn’t say anything as he helped her slip it down his arms upon undoing the buttons.

“Do you want me?” She asked him curtly as she looked down at his half naked form with a surprised gaze.

“I - of course “ he told her.

“Then act like it, Sallow.” She told him and suddenly like a fuse had been lit, Sebastian flipped the girl onto her back and started kissing her shoulders and collarbones with vigor. He hadn’t even realized that as he flipped her over he had pulled her nightgown down significantly but he brushed it aside as he kissed her body.

She grew warm at how suddenly the reservations left him body and he responded so well to her noises and gasps. Sebastian seemed to so easily locate all those spots that made her feel weak as he kept kissing her body.

Soon he was reaching for the ties holding up her nightclothes and she leaned up to help him remove it. As her fingers moved to undo the latches he grumpily pushed her hand aside to do it himself.

“Been wanting to unwrap you like a gift for so long now. I want to do it on my own,” he gritted out against the shell of her ear before removing the top of her dress, pulling it up and over her body and tossing it onto the floor.

As she shivered from the draft in the room, Sebastian looked down and realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He assumed that even though she lacked a camisole she at the very least would have breeches, but no. She was fully naked as she lay underneath him.

“You sneaky little witch planned this didn’t you” he gritted out as he leaned down to take one of her pert little nipples in his mouth, groaning at the sweet taste of her skin along his tongue.

“I had hoped it could be a possibility…” she said through a whine as he flicked her now erect nipple with his tongue before moving to the other one.

When he successfully gave it the same attention he release it with a pop as he looked back up at her face hungrily.

“So that innocent routine was just an act?” He asked her as he moved back up her body and leaned his weight down on her. She could finally feel his arousal through his pajama pants and she shivered as he used his free hand to trace down her torso.

“Tell me what you hoped for… did you hope I would kiss you…” he trailed off kissing her now severely flushed skin before pulling back to look up at her through his thick lashes as he kept teasing. “Did you hope I would… touch you here?” Sebastian asked as he ran his fingertips ever so gently over the skin of her chest.

His index finger moved down painfully slow until it was right at the base of her opening and he looked into her eyes intently as he breached her walls with his finger, smiling as he asked “did you hope I would enter you here?”

Sebastian only brought his finger back out slowly as she whimpered at the loss of the stretch that she’d felt around his knuckles and upon hearing the noise he shoved it back in again causing her eyes to go wide as she clung to the quilt.

Shoving another finger alongside it, he continued to work her open so she’d be able to take him with ease. Curling his fingers and scissoring them within her, he took his time appreciating every noise she made and every pull her body made on his appendages.

He wasn’t done teasing the girl yet because just when she was nearing an orgasm he pulled his hand away to look at her exasperated expression with a grin as he shoved the soaked digits into his mouth and licked them clean.

“Well?” He asked her and she remembered vaguely he had asked her what she had hoped for.

“I wanted you to… be inside of me…” she admitted somewhat ashamed and he chuckled at her relapse into innocence.

“My fingers?” He eased as he brought them close to her opening once more before changing his mind and grabbing her hand from where it was still clutching the quilt and bringing it over his arousal before asking “or my cock?”

“Your… cock…” she said as if she was out of breath and he smiled down at her, suddenly breaking the trance he’d been in and softly stroking her messy hair away from her face as he laid down next to her.

“You sweet, darling girl” he cooed as he pulled her into his frame. “You may have whatever you desire” he told her before leaning up to passionately but delicately kiss her once more.

She carefully reached for the tie on his sleep pants as she undid the knot and pushed them off his hips. Sebastian reached down to loosen his breeches and pushed them off his body to assist her before maneuvering his way between her open knees, laying over her.

“I’m sorry if I got carried away…” he admitted, realizing that his brash actions may not have been what she wanted.

“Don’t be. I found it to be… quite stirring” she admitted and he laughed at her choice words. Caressing her cheek he leaned down to kiss the skin between her eyebrows before pulling back.

“We do this at your pace. Promise you’ll let me know if it stings” he asked her and she nodded, brushing off the concerns as she reached for his cock, only to have him palm his manhood with a slight groan as he shook his head.

“I mean it. I don’t want to hurt you.” He told her sternly and she looked up at his concern laced brow.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine-“ she said as she finally unwrapped his hand from his manhood, finally getting to feel the full size of him as she looked down in shock.

Sebastian was much larger than she imagined. Not that she’d ever seen one in real life before but, even from anatomical drawings she’d seen and the girlish whispers she realized he was much more endowed than she assumed.

“Oh…” she said as she looked down, losing her nerve as she saw the way his cock looked massive between their bodies and the way it pulsed under her scrutiny.

“We don’t have to do it if you are nervous” he told her as she tore her gaze from his manhood back to his face.

“I want to” she said firmly and he looked at her for any signs she was lying or feeling pressured.

“You’re sure?” He asked her gently, his thumb tracing over the skin of her chin as he held her face carefully.

“Just… go slow…” she told him, parting her legs further and reaching down to assist him.

Sebastian grunted as he felt her lining his head up with her opening and once he could feel they were properly aligned he let go of her chin to reach for her hand, holding it in his own as he encouraged her to look up.

“Look at me, don’t worry about what is going on down there alright? Just look into my eyes…” he offered and she nodded, pulling her gaze directly into his own as he ever so slightly pushed his hips forward.

Everything went okay for a few moments until her breath hitched and he paused, not tearing his eyes from hers as he stopped pressing in. When she looked as if she adjusted, he continued until the entirety of his head was inside of her, pausing once more.

He couldn’t help but sigh as he sunk into her, enjoying the warmth of her body around him as he parted her. Every so often he’d stop and ask if she was okay to keep going and she never told him it hurt but he could definitely see the discomfort at the new and what he imagined, intrusive, feeling.

However for him… it was like coming home, to a place he’d never known was so wonderful. Her body eventually opened up and accepted all of him and he found his mound of dark curls pressed against her own, slightly more manicured patch of hair atop her womanhood.

He could feel the press of her hip bones on his as he laid there, waiting for her to adjust to the fullness of his length within her body. Sebastian almost felt amazed at where it all had gone, as she was so small in comparison to him and he knew his cock well exceeded his classmates from their time sharing dorms and bathrooms.

“Do you think you’re ready for me to move?” He asked her with the softest tone he could muster despite feeling like he was going to burst free at any second.

“You’ll be gentle?” She asked timidly and he almost removed himself entirely at the tone she asked him with.

“I promise. I don’t want you to be in pain. Does it hurt now?” He asked her, not wanting to know the answer but needing to have it regardless.

“It’s moreso just… pressure? Maybe moving will help” she offered as an explanation and he nodded, ever so carefully pulling his hips back before slowly sliding back inside once more at a snail like pace.

Eventually his movements became more comfortable, confident, and controlled - as well as slightly faster.

At first her face scrunched up as she closed her eyes but after a moment she seemed to relax her eyebrows as her mouth fell open. Sebastian watched her reactions intently as she gave herself over to him.

Somehow he moved to an angle causing a pleasured noise to spill from her lips and he felt himself twitch knowing that she was slowly starting to feel good.

“Hey, I like seeing those pretty eyes Love” he said gently as he nudged her nose with his own, causing her to open them once more and blush up at him as he continued to press within her.

“There you are… so incredibly beautiful. You are an angel…” he whispered as he picked up the pace but kept his tone soft.

His words and his moments caused her to feel a stirring in her stomach that was similar to when she rode highwing and she would dive low.

“Sebastian…” She sighed his name as a mantra while she reached up to hold his cheek in her hand, the other curled around into his hair.

“My gorgeous witch… so lovely inside and out…” he continued to praise her as her eyes grew glassy at his sweet words and without thinking a tear rolled out of the corner of her eye, his thumb moving to catch it the second he spotted it.

“Did I hurt you-“ he quickly asked but she stopped him by leaning up to kiss him, her hips rising to meet his shallow moments as he groaned.

Pulling away she continued to hold him close as she whispered

I love you Sebastian Sallow…

Hearing her call his name like that, and saying she loved him, caused him to stutter in his movements and his cock begin to angrily throb looking for that final push of release.

He moved his hips much faster against hers as he leaned down and groaned out, “I - love you too… so much… uhhh fuck… need to… finish… where” he struggled to choke out as he kept his momentum while driving into her.

Realizing she was likely much further behind he had the foresight to lean his hand down and start playing with her nub, causing her back to raise sharply as she whimpered and clawed at his back.

“Need to pull, out-“ he grunted and she shook her head violently beneath him.

“No. Please. Don’t -“ she said through a loud sob, her body beginning to clench around him as she looked up at him fiercely saying “please finish inside…” she begged.

He didn’t need to ask twice after she gave him permission. Pushing harshly on her clit, she came with a scream and with that, her body pulled his cock so tightly that he followed.

As her body milked him for every drop he had he couldn’t help but feel the strong sense of pride running through his mind as he flooded her with his seed. He looked down watching her wide eyed expression as he continued to pump his load deep within her body, only slowing once he ran out of stamina before he collapsed on top of her.

Sebastian was spent as he laid on top of her chest, his face pressed against her sweaty skin and he slowly began trailing butterfly kisses across her neck at the same moment he felt her brushing his hair off his forehead to do the same.

Suddenly he heard the clock chime loudly in the main room, signaling midnight and he removed himself from the crook of her neck as he softened within her, his spill slipping out of her and between their thighs. It felt so overwhelmingly perfect and then he realized something.

“Happy Christmas” he whispered as he tucked her hair behind her ear and she looked up at him slowly realizing that he was indeed correct and they had made love on Christmas Eve through the official start of the day itself.

“Happy Christmas Sebastian…” she said, her voice slightly hoarse from the screech she’d let out and he leaned down to kiss her once more before pulling her body into his, neglecting the mess between them.

“Well, I for one think this Christmas is already off to the best start imaginable” he admitted before pecking her forehead and he smiled when she laughed, the chuckle causing both their bodies to shake.

“Of course you’d say that”

“What? I’ve got the girl I love in my arms. What more can a man want?” He asked her and he looked down just in time to see her face turn up to meet his.

“You love me?” She asked softly and suddenly it was his turn to chuckle.

“I think that what we just did goes to show that but yes, I do love you. Terribly so.” He admitted as he brought her closer into his arms.

“I love you too” she told him as he smiled, his eyes starting to grow heavy.

“I heard you the first time… although if you feel so inclined to repeat it, I can guarantee that’s not the sort of thing one grows tired of hearing” he told her as he drifted off to sleep holding her in his arms thinking about how much more pleasurable this was than going to sleep with dragon pox on Christmas.

THE END

[vexwerewolf]

Tell us about one of your favorite Lancer mechs you've piloted

(art by @deeganart)

-- IPS-N Tortuga @ LL12 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Goblin 3, IPS-N Tortuga 2, HA Sherman 3, SSC Dusk Wing 3, IPS-N Raleigh 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Sloped Plating, Heatfall Coolant System, Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints, Improved Armament [ TALENTS ] Vanguard 3, Leader 3, Grease Monkey 3, Nuclear Cavalier 3, Combined Arms 2, Empath 1 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:4 ENGI:4 STRUCTURE:4 HP:24 ARMOR:3 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:8 TECH ATK:+5 LIMITED:+2 SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:14 SENSE:15 SAVE:16 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Fuel Rod Gun FLEX MOUNT: Hand Cannon / Hand Cannon MAIN MOUNT: Deck-Sweeper Automatic Shotgun HEAVY MOUNT: ANDROMEDA-Pattern Heavy Laser Rifle // Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, ASURA-Class NHP x3, H0R_OS System Upgrade I, H0R_OS System Upgrade II, Flicker Field Projector, Redundant Systems Upgrade x3, BB Breach/Blast Charges x5

This mech does everything.

It's tough, it's survivable, it can hand out truly obscene amounts of damage. It can create instant Size 2 cover anywhere within Sensors. It can shut down high-power enemies. Every time it moves, the first attack against it has a flat 50% chance to miss. It can give allies +1d6 damage as a reaction. If an enemy so much as sneezes in its vicinity, it will light it up. So long as there are less than five combats in the mission, it can use ASURA every combat. Once per mission, everyone gets a point of Structure repaired and a use of all Limited systems restored for free.

Having the extra Flex with the Hand Cannons allows it to do a truly filthy trick with its Core System. Hyper-Reflex Mode says "any character you hit with Overwatch becomes Immobilized until the end of their next turn." If you Overwatch with a Main/Aux or an Aux/Aux, your first attack in the sequence must be against the enemy who triggered it, but your second attack isn't subject to this restriction, so if someone triggers your Overwatch while HRM is on, you can fire the second Hand Cannon at some rando who's also in range and they both get Immobilized.

It has no melee weapons and needs none thanks to Combined Arms 2, and thanks to Combined Arms 1 it can get soft cover just by being adjacent to an enemy.

With 10 Heat Cap and Heatfall, it can safely Overcharge Loop to fire its Andromeda, and it has a 1-in-3 chance of being able to trigger Nuclear Cavalier every time it does so. Andromeda gets +1 Accuracy automatically.

Switch customized it to have a small fleet of camera drones constantly circling it so that they can livestream all their mech fights, and they always carry an omnihook with them so that they'll be able to connect to the omninet no matter where they are.

This isn't a meme machine. It's a fucking dream machine.

[teaboot]

I have to remind myself that my characters don't have to be tortured or dramatic to be interesting.

My first DND character was a balding, paunchy, post-middle-aged human man whose wife had just left him and whose kids had grown up and moved away.

He quit his menial job and decided to take up music, something he'd never been very good at that didn't pay the bills, and become a bard.

He was bad at it. Really, really bad. His instrument was shit and he'd never had any formal lessons. On top of that, he was pretty tone-deaf.

BUT. He could play very, very bad noises very, very loud.

On our first campaign, he was cornered by a sea dragon and had no weapons, but by making a loud, horrible noise, he was able to startle it badly enough to lose grasp of the boat.

After that, he used it to herd a small crowd of goblins into a trap by sounding far bigger and more numerous a foe.

He never got much better, but he did grow his confidence, and won the affection and respect of his companions, who grew to support him in ways nobody else had before.

I had to stop playing him for a while after that, but last I had him, he was developing an interest in color and flare and fashion that he'd never paid much attention to before.

He didn't lose weight, or grow his hair back, or magically become younger, but he felt brighter, lighter, like he had a new lease on life, like he had something to offer and maybe he deserved to have a bit of fun, now and then, with good company.

He began to wonder if that was what he was missing, before. If perhaps that was why his marriage had wasted away. A lack of drive, of hope, of pride and passion.

I don't know where he would have gone on from there. I don't know if I wanted him to reconnect with his kids, or his ex wife, or his home town. Part of me likes the idea of finding his own way- settling and becoming good friends with his ex, something platonic but warm and fond, and reaching out to his kids and being there for his grandkids and someday passing away bright and loud and loved of old age, asleep in his bed, to be celebrated after by the loudest funeral with the worst music played by the most awful musicians his community had to offer, loud and proud and full of good humor.

Maybe they'd throw a festival, after that. An annual one, with firecrackers and trumpets and clanging pots and pans to scare away the monsters like he did, the roaring hero who came into his own a little later than usual, but wondrously all the same.

A symbol to show that you don't have to bend and squish and contort yourself to fit the space you're in- you can find another space, one that's just your size, and exist there exactly as you are

[thatswhywelovegermany]

Aufhocker

An Aufhocker (top sitter), also called Huckup, is a pressure spirit and shapeshifter in German folklore. It is a kind of goblin, who jumps onto the shoulders or backs of hikers who are still out at night, becoming heavier with each step.

The hiker is paralyzed, suffers from feelings of oppression and anxiety and is unable to turn around. The Aufhocker remains sitting on the hiker until he is released by the approaching light, a prayer or the ringing of a bell.

The nightmarish experience often takes place in three phases. The hiker is first approached or accompanied by a sinister being, then the demonic companion grows to supernatural size and finally jumps onto the back of the victim. The Hackestüpp from Düren is one such Aufhocker, who initially accompanies the victims as a playful little dog, then jumps onto their backs, cannot be shaken off and becomes heavier with each step.

Typical haunted places such as streams, bridges, lakes, forests, ditches, crossroads, ravines, churchyards and sites where murders or executions happened are the usual places for an encounter with an Aufhocker, which can result in physical and mental illness and sometimes even death for the hiker. The Bahkauv ("stream calf") of Aachen is an Aufhocker who is said to frighten drunken men at night and ask them to carry him on their shoulders.

Sometimes an Aufhocker first appears as pitiful old women; but they can also take on animal forms such as a bear, a calf (as in the Bahkauv), a werewolf (as in the Stüpp of the Western Rhineland) or a dog (as in the Sürthgens Mossel of the Hürtgenwald forest). Elemental beings such as mermen or will-o'-the-wisps also act as Aufhockers. What is important is not the shape of the Aufhocker, but the oppressiveness of the situation. Aufhockers are not limited to German folklore. An Aufhocker in the shape of an old man is also mentioned in the oriental fairy tale collection One Thousand and One Nights, in which he meets "Sinbad the Sailor" on a deserted island.

The figure of the Aufhocker has its origins in the fear of the revenant, the undead. The oldest reports of Aufhockers clearly speak of "haunting corpses" and not of goblins or ghosts. Unlike Nachzehrers, who did not have to leave their grave if they wanted to harm the living, other undead, like vampires, rose from the grave and stole people's vital force. This could happen in a tangible way by sucking out blood, but also in a more abstract form. As recent research has shown, this also applies to vampires, who are said in the oldest reports to have a damaging effect through "strangling" and "emaciating", but not through bloodsucking. In the western Rhineland, the Aufhocker merges with the werewolf to form the Stüpp, a dangerous monster that unexpectedly jumps on people's shoulders and forces the victims to carry him around, causing trepidations, anxiety, feelings of oppression and panic attacks until they die of exhaustion.