#Selection from The Survival Series

[archiveofaffinities]

Jenny Holzer, Selection from The Survival Series, Times Square, New York, 1985-1986

[analyzingadventure]

If you gave a me dollar everytime Piemon was introduced as one of the first Ultimate level Digimon in the franchise to display the difference between Perfect and Ultimate, I'd have four dollars, which isn't a lot but it's funny to me that it's happened four times

Like you introduce An Extremely Powerful Threat in your story that your protagonist has to overcome, and in this god forsaken series, four different times it's been the exact same clown

[kaysungshine]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .☽ fae trap ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

{ Pairing } - Elf!Felix x Witch.afab!Reader

{ Genre } - Smut, Dark, Fantasy

{ Synopsis } - It is said, that if you ever find yourself inside of a fairy ring. The fae will punish you, by making you dance until you are passing out from exhaustion. But when you find yourself doing a different kind of 'dance' on the ground, in the middle of one, with the most beautiful creature you've ever seen you might add, you wonder; is this truly a punishment?

{ WC } - 7.7k

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, aphrodisiac effects, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex (piv; do as I say, not as I write & pee after sex!), rough/hard sex, overstimulation, big dick felix, dacryphilia, talk of breeding & mating, talking of mating rituals, please don't touch fly agaric mushrooms, srsly they're toxic and deadly, possible incorrect french usage.

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - For the love of all things skz. DO NOT EVER TOUCH FLY AGARIC/AMANITA MUSCARIA MUSHROOMS. THEY ARE TOXIC. DEADLY. This is also probably the darkest thing I've written on this account so far. But it doesn't feel inherently evil to me personally??? But it is enough to warrant a TW! This started off as a birthday oneshot for Felix. I'm starting to think I'm no good at oneshots. This could be left alone, but it could also be a series... I have so many world building thoughts, but idk if I wanna do that. What do you think?

Dusk was approaching as you made your way home from your walk. 

You were blessed to own a cute little home, right on the edge of a beautiful and mysterious forest. Every day you were able to take nature walks, wandering through the treeline, exploring the vegetation. Collecting materials, making sure never to take too much of what the woodland had to offer. And caring for as much as you could, though you knew you were not essential to the survival of wilderness itself. 

That didn't stop you from befriending the little critters who made their home there, or from essentially finding your own second home there. 

You never brought anything with you to permanently invade nature. Instead you wrapped your daily essentials in a little bindle. It usually contained a hearty snack, a book or two, endless vials and jars, your cell, and a small emergency kit. Homemade salves, balms, and tonics included. 

You always had some new shiny objects for your crow friends, making sure to exchange the gifts they left for you at your designated spot. And you always made sure to leave some nuts and seeds for the various rodents who liked to stuff their cheeks. Again, you didn't need to, but they really liked sweet black walnuts and salty peanuts in the shells. Who were you to deny them that treat! 

Some days you brought select crystals with you, cleaning and recharging them in the streams of spring water. Other days you'd use that same water, sealing it in jars and leaving it nearby to make moon water overnight. Those were about the only two things you ever left in the forest, always making sure to come back the next day and retrieve them. 

You always carry a little basket with you too. The forest was abundant in ingredients for many different things. Your favorite is mushrooms and fungi. 

There were many times you'd find a log of an oak tree, fallen over and resting on the ground. A bunch of chicken of the woods growing on it. You'd collect them, taking them home to cook for dinner or other meals.

Other days you'd find lion's mane, and make sure to gather some for your favorite tincture to make and take. It did wonders for your anxiety. 

You were a green witch through and through, and you were raised this way. You drew your energy and essence from nature, always taking little bits of it home. 

Today was no different. Forgoing mushrooms, you instead had bundles of mugwort and a jar full of mulberries in your wicker basket. Wrapped in a little cloth were a bunch of spicebush berries.

You were nearing the last clearing within the woods, your house was about a ten minute walk away at this point. 

The soft moss against your bare feet was grounding, and you were listening to the buzz and crackle of nightlife within the forest. Your white skirt ended at your knees, flaring out. The chiffon is blowing in the cool breeze. It was still tshirt weather, and that's exactly what you wore on top. A fitted one, pale and muted ivy green. You gave up on bras long ago, you were a solitary creature anyways. The friends who did visit never cared about your attire.

You were in your own world, playing a balancing game on a stump and humming to yourself, when flashes of red caught your eye. 

In the clearing, scattered in a broken circle, was fly agaric. 

Your heart fluttered at this rare find. You walk past this clearing daily, and never noticed any of the red mushrooms with white speckles there before. 

Eagerly, you approach. In the back of your mind, warning bells are going off. Thinking back to childhood, of the stories your mom once told you of the fae folk. You'd encountered fairy rings before, but never of this type of mushroom, and never broken ones. Certainly never one so big. You never breached the little white rings in the past, not wanting to mess with entities so possibly mischievous. 

But it would be fine right? This might not even be considered a fairy ring. It was sort of... circle-ish? But not really. There were so many gaps in between them, it wasn't a perfect circle like you'd seen in the past. And these mushrooms were so rare and so powerful, in so many ways. You could feel their energy radiating around you.

You glanced around, searching for any signs of immortal creatures lurking near. You saw and heard nothing, but that would be typical. They never willingly reveal themselves, in fact... You've never seen one. You've never seen any kind of fae folk. It's not that you didn't believe in them, you were sure some form of them existed. Afterall, you practice a form of magick. Your own form, and that exists. 

You were convinced all mythical creatures either exist or had existed, the idea of them couldn't come from nothing. Not when they were in so many stories across all different cultures. 

You paused for a few more moments, really trying to feel any negative energy. There was none, there was never any in your little forest. 

So, tentatively, you took a few steps forward. Then you paused again, waiting for something to pop out. 

Nothing.

You giggled to yourself happily, and then bent down to pluck the mushrooms from the marshy earth. 

They all varied in size, some were large with bulbous caps. Some were shorter, and had flatter caps. Each mushroom, you made sure to pick with a cloth barrier between them and your fingers. These could be deadly if used the wrong way or taken in excess. You had no idea what would happen if you came into direct contact with it, on your bare skin. 

You really should start carrying gloves with you.

You made your way around the broken circle, humming in between giggles, and unconsciously dancing. You were nearly prancing each bare step to the next. 

If you had paid more attention to your mothers tales, you'd realize the consequences of stepping inside a fairy ring were already taking effect.

You were collecting more than you needed now, your basket was overflowing. But still, you didn't want to stop. You felt strangely overcome with merriment. You never felt more at home in these woods than this moment. 

You mindlessly set your basket down, your humming growing in volume. You looked to the sky, as you allowed your body to sway back and forth. Arms stretched out towards the waning moon, coming to life in the dark sky surrounding you. 

Your eyes closed, soaking in the moonlight. And you brought your arms back down, letting them float at your sides as you twirled, and twirled. Your skirt flutters up to reveal your thighs even more, hair whipping in your face. You revelled in the feeling of the squishy dirt beneath your feet. You felt grounded, but as if you were flying all at the same time.

You don't know when your solitude was breached, or if you were ever truly alone in the first place, but you finally noticed his presence when his hands intertwined with yours. 

He was twirling with you, spinning you in circles. 

He was nearly glowing, strawberry colored lips revealing the sweetest smile you'd ever seen. His long, straight white hair framed his face stunningly, tendrils of it outlining his strong jaw line. And his face... so, perfect. He had hundreds of freckles splashed across his cheeks, nose and eyes. Even some scattering up to his hairline, and down to his chin. You'd imagine you could create many constellations with them, like the stars that twinkle in the night sky. He adorned various jewelry, all silver. In his ears, and a cuff across the bridge of his nose. He even wore a gorgeous crown that laid across his forehead as a head piece. It was thin, and wiry, made up of gorgeous silver filigree that shone in the moonlight. You knew that the rings you felt in between your fingers would be silver too. 

He wore all white. You couldn't be sure exactly what his outfit was, but his shirt was a flowing lace up top. Revealing delicate collar bones and toned chest. It was mostly a blur in the midst of his movements. 

Your gasp was delayed, only coming out when he pulled you closer to him. Your hand remains in his, while his arm is wrapped around your waist. You were nearly flush with him, feeling the rest of his chiseled torso against your plush body. But he kept your face at some distance to maintain eye contact. The smile never slipped from his lips. 

He has you captivated, and the two of you don't falter in your melodic movements once. His eyes bore into you, dark and sharp. Yet he exuded a certain softness, and you found yourself lost in the moment. It didn't seem real. 

But it was. 

You were seeing him. In all his glory, ever mysterious and breathtaking. The most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. 

You were hearing him. He was humming the same tune you were, an old lullaby your mom used to sing to you. His voice was deep, and even, harmonizing with your breathy high pitched voice beautifully. 

You were feeling him. He was touching you, his hand interlocked with yours. His grip around your waist is gentle but possessive. He held you like he didn't want to break you, but knew if he was too loose, you'd go running. 

Though you weren't so sure you would run. 

Your mind was racing. There's no way you could stumble across a perfect stranger, who was immediately dancing with you, so close to the edge of the forest. So close to your house. Maybe this was some sort of hallucination. A side effect of being surrounded by so many toxic mushrooms. 

The mushrooms. 

That was it, it all clicked. Too late did the rest of your mother's words ring in your ears. 

His aura, his energy, his perfect pixie-like features. You noticed the point of his ears now, the glittery sheen to his skin. His smile is full of white pointed teeth, dull now, but you could tell they were once sharper in the past. His slight cat-like eyes, giving them that sharp look even though everything else about him screamed delicate.

Your humming stopped, but his didn't. Your mother's voice is filling your head, and you were repeating the words she once told you so long ago. 

'and if you're caught, the fae folk will punish you. You'll be dancing within the ring until you faint from exhaustion.' you whispered quietly. 

His smile only grew, a glint lighting up his eyes. 

He finally spoke, his chest vibrating against yours, "Wise words, from a magnificent young lady."

He had an accent, you couldn't quite place it. Something between old english and australian. It made you want to melt. 

He started laughing, and you were sure that if he didn't have a grip on you, you would've slid to the ground. 

You've both stopped twirling, but he's still moving you, moving with you. Swaying back and forth. 

"Who are you?" You ask curiously. 

"Who?" He chuckles, "Usually it's 'what are you', that people ask me. Though it's been almost a century since I have revealed myself to a mortal."

A century? Your mouth dries, and you feel something akin to fear course through your veins. But you aren't scared of him for some reason. Wary, suspicious, but not scared. 

"You're different though, you seem to have at least a diminutive amount of knowledge of my realm." 

You want to get angry at that comment. You'd like to consider yourself well informed and educated on all supernatural and magickal subjects. There'd always be more to learn though, and the human brain simply could not grasp it in its entirety. So he wasn't wrong. 

You're still saying nothing, dazed from his presence. So he continues. 

"You were right when you said fae folk." He assures. 

"You're a fairy?" You whisper, wonder dazzling in your voice.

At that he laughs again, and you swear you hear small chimes behind it.

"An elf. I believe that is the universal name humans gave us. Not all fae are fairies, there are others too." 

As he speaks, he lets go of your hand, bringing his fingers up to brush strands of hair from your face. His touch is warm, for some reason that shocks you. 

"Elf." You repeat, not a question, but a statement.

He hums, in agreement and starts to twirl you around again. His hand resting on your cheek, thumb brushing featherlight touches against it. 

You're trying very hard to wrap your head around the entire scenario. You shouldn't be surprised. You've dealt with other worldly things in the past. Spiritual realms are completely different from anything having to do with the fae world though. 

Worry floods through you again once you realize what's happening. 

"Am I being punished?" You lip quivers as you speak, "I-I was just trying to collec-"

He's bringing his head down, his forehead meeting yours. You feel the cold bite of the silver headpiece touching your skin. It's enough to shut you up.

"Shhh, darling. Don't view it as a punishment." 

"I don't want to dance until I pass out." You slowly say, even though your body feels otherwise.

Underneath the initial shock and caution, you still felt that overwhelming happiness. It was borderline euphoric... and strangely arousing. 

Everything happening inside your mind and body right now was so confusing. You were feeling lost, and found yourself clinging to the man--the elf, before you. 

"You pretty creature, don't worry. Danser dans le ronds de sorcières... that's for children." 

French? This being was a riddle. 

"I don't understand." You force out. 

He leans back a bit, so he can look into your eyes and your thighs clench, "We tell the kids, fae and human, that if a mortal is caught within our rings. They dance to exhaustion. The humans carried this myth with them into adulthood, while our kind later learned the truth of these special rings." 

He's still dancing with you, moving your body elegantly to a now imaginary song. Leading you in something reminiscent of a waltz, but you can barely focus on that when his touches are electric against your skin. 

"The truth?" You ask. 

He's dipping you down now, bending with your body as he once again is peering into your eyes. At first you think it's part of the dance. Until your back meets the land that was underneath your feet. The mixture of smells was potent. The scent of damp moss, and semi-sweet foliage filling your nose. 

He hums again, "It was never an entire lie, it always started off with dancing." 

The timbre of his voice was pooling wetness in your panties. You felt beads of sweat forming on your brow, and you were bewildered at how your body was reacting right now. It didn't make sense. 

His body is hovering over you now, his face coming close to yours. His nose is brushing along yours before he speaks again. 

"What better way to set the mood than a passionate dance, and in this case, under the moonlight?"

You whimpered, feeling disoriented and needing his touch. 

"I don't even know your name.", was the only thing you managed to mumble. 

He chuckled, and you felt his breath puff against your lips, "It's unimportant darling, but since you're so... alluring. You can call me Felix... I'd love to hear it rolling off your tongue when I make you cum."

You were mewling at the thought of fucking this mystical being, when you felt his lips against yours.

He was almost lazy in the way he kissed you. Seemingly in no rush at all. And it's not that you were complaining, but you wanted more. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his body flush with yours. 

He was smiling against your lips now, and you took the opportunity to swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, begging for access. 

"So eager. Patience little dove. You'll get what you desire and more." 

You knew it was absurd to lust after a man--an elf, gods how could you keep forgetting that, that you just met. But your body was burning and it felt like he was your only rescue. 

His hands wandered your body, groping and massaging every inch. 

He had your leg wrapped around him, his hand trailing down the back of your thigh and his lips attached to your neck. He was marking you with what you imagined to be the most beautiful bruises. You were panting at this point, and it felt ridiculous to be this turned on by so little. By a stranger. But it didn't make you want to stop.

His fingers reached the edge of your panties, and you gasped. You felt his smile again, he was enjoying every bit of this. You felt powerless to his strokes against you. Your hips were bucking up, chasing for friction.

His hand gripped your hip tightly, fingers squeezing into your flesh, pinning you further into the dirt. 

You hissed before whining, begging "Please."

"I said be patient." His voice was stern as he spoke against your ear.

It still didn't stop you from squirming beneath him, your mind wasn't registering anything beyond wanting to feel him filling you up. 

He brought his face back to yours, eyes gleaming and the most naughty expression written across it. 

"Fine. As you wish, little dove. But don't forget, I was trying to ease you into this." 

He tore your panties off of you, and his fingers were rubbing against you harshly, sending jolts of pleasure through you. 

"A-aaah!" You were moaning loudly, his movements jarring.

"This is what you wanted darling, isn't it?" He's muttering against your lips now, slipping his fingers into you. 

Your body feels more alive than ever, waves of pleasure washing over you. His fingers skillfully curl inside you, while his thumb works your sensitive bud. Swipe after swipe, eliciting more and more of your arousal onto his hand. 

His kiss is searing, and feels like the only thing currently keeping you anchored to your body. You felt your orgasm building quickly, the band growing tighter and tighter in your stomach. It felt like you'd float away when it snapped. 

You can't contain the lewd noises you're making. Between the moans he's swallowing from your lips, and the loud squelching from between your thighs, it was deafening. Or maybe it was just that your ears were ringing. 

It felt like only seconds later when he brought you over the edge, his movements slowing but never stopping. You're whining, and your legs are trembling but you don't want him to stop. You're nearing over sensitivity and when you close your eyes, you see nothing but stars.

All you can think of are the freckled constellations on his cheek. 

You feel drunk on this moment, and you don't want it to end. It's as if he knows exactly where your mind is when he speaks again.

"You're not done little dove, don't you worry your pretty little head." 

When you open your eyes, and tilt your head up, his shirt and pants are discarded. Revealing a dizzying body. He was lithe yet chiseled. His body is almost dainty, but each muscle is carved in the most irresistible way. His abs were glorious, your eyes trail lower, following the v cut. You notice the faint spattering of a happy trail, and your eyes follow it. 

And fuck.

You've never been one to view someones cock as pretty but... his was. The tip was so swollen and pink, and leaking generous amounts of precum. Faint blue veins prominent along the shaft, and he stood tall and proud. His girth made you wonder if you could handle the stretch. It had been a while since you'd last been intimate. 

He brought his hand, covered in your slick, to his member. Spreading it all over in a mixture with his precum, making it glisten. Your mouth started to water, and your legs spread wider for him. You pulled your skirt completely up, presenting yourself to him. 

His jaw was slack, mouth hung open as he watched you, fist pumping himself slowly. 

"Such a good girl for me darling, aren't you?" He said with that charming smile. 

There was something about the way he looked at you, while doing such a perverse act that had your juices dripping down you. 

Then he was on top of you again, cock sliding into you. Your entire body tensed at the intrusion and you wailed, a mix of pain and pleasure. But it was so satisfying, you couldn't get enough. Your arms wrapped around his neck again, and he was thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 

Your back was digging into the ground, and you started to feel bits of grass and dirt against your skin. You pulled against him, trying to adjust yourself so you could lose yourself in the dance you two were now performing. 

He pulled out of you, and sat back on his knees, that's when you noticed his clothes underneath him. You had no idea he was wearing a cape earlier. It was sprawled out, creating a barrier between him and the ground. 

He picked you up, and positioned you to straddle his lap, facing him. Then he slid back into you, your eyes rolled back, and you let out a filthy moan. 

This position felt more intimate but still desperate, he was reaching deeper into you. The head of his cock pistoning against your g-spot. It felt so good you could cry. 

You were crying, you realized. 

"Shhh, little dove, you're taking it so well. It feels so good, doesn't it?" 

"Yes!" You sob. 

He's wiping the tears from your eyes with his fingers, and smiling at you like you're the most precious thing on this planet. 

"That's right, pretty. So pretty when you cry." He groans out, and his pace grows faster, rougher.

His hand dips down between you, and he's toying with your clit now. In any other circumstance, you'd be embarrassed by the way your body uncontrollably trembles. Your muscles are spasming at his touch. You just couldn't bring yourself to care, he was making you feel too good. 

"Darling," He purred, as he slowed his thrusts and pinched your clit between two fingers, rolling it, "I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum for me, can you do that?" 

You were mewling as you nodded your head frantically, feeling your peak rush towards you. 

At that he started fucking into you harshly, almost painfully, and you were coming undone with a loud cry on top of him. Your body tensed, nails digging into his shoulders, struggling not to throw your head back. His hand that was playing with you, gripped your jaw, smearing your own arousal on your face.

He was making sure you kept your word, maintaining your gaze on his while you clenched around him. Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to keep them open. He was biting his lip, eyebrows scrunched together as he fucked you through your orgasm. Watching your face contorted in pleasure. 

"So tight." He grunted.

You were scratching at him now, nails dragging down his shoulders. And your mouth was hung open in a silent scream, your voice having given up on you. 

It was becoming overwhelming. 

You still didn't want it to stop.

"I know you can take it darling, take it." He growled, gripping both your hips now to steady you.

So you did, until you were limp in his arms, and he was releasing into you with a groan. 

Your head was resting on his shoulder. Sweaty skin sticking to each other, and he was soothing you. Humming and stroking your hair gently. You were breathing heavily, trying to come down from this mind blowing experience. But you weren't descending, not mentally. You were still riding that high, stuck in a lust filled haze. 

He started to roll his hips tantalizingly slow, and you hissed at it, feeling slight pain. Mostly you were shocked he was still hard. 

His chest vibrated while he quietly laughed, "Did you forget the 'more' part, darling. I keep telling you, we're not done yet." 

You whined at the sensation of his gentle movements. 

"Shhh, there there." He's teasing you, "Are we a little sore?"

"Yes." You breathed.

"I can fix that." 

You gasped when he slid out of you, hating the fact that you felt so empty. 

He was positioning you to lay down on his clothes, taking care that no part of you touched the ground. You just let him handle you, molding your pliant body however he wanted it.

His hands were rubbing down your arms, and he was smiling down at you. When you met his eyes, you couldn't explain the exact emotions you were feeling. You'd let this man take your soul if he asked right now. 

He was licking his lips as his hand trailed back to your core. You gasped again, then whined when he dragged his fingers through your swollen folds. His touch was almost massaging, yet sensual. He was touching everywhere, teasingly avoiding your sensitive bud. 

The more he touched you, the more you writhed. And sensing another comment about how you can't be still or patient, you yanked him down to you so you could kiss him. 

You were tired of just laying there, you wanted to start giving. To start touching.

You didn't know where all this stamina came from, but you were determined to use it. You jerked your hips up, leaning more into his touch. 

It wasn't until you reached down to wrap your fingers around his length that he paused his movements. 

He was still slick with your cum. And you used that to give him slow strokes.

He let out a hoarse moan against your lips, before pressing his fingers directly on your clit, rubbing in small circles. He was matching your tempo directly. You whined into the kiss, your hand picking up pace. Pumping him faster now, and he followed your lead. 

Or so you thought, just as you felt your climax starting to build, his fingers were being pulled away. 

He took your hand off him, and then crawled down your body, coming face to face with your core. 

"So pretty, even here darling." 

You were blushing at his words, but you couldn't take your eyes off of his, as he stared at you from between your thighs. 

"Still sore? Let me make it feel better, little dove." 

And you felt his tongue lave through your folds. It was gentle and it felt hot, and it drove you crazy. The flicks of his tongue against your clit were maddening, and you wanted more. 

Your hips started slowly moving against his face, and this time he let you. He lets you roll your hips, and grind against his face. His tongue flattened against you, and you slid your hand into his blindingly white locks. You started grinding against him harshly, losing all sense and control of your body and just focusing on climaxing. 

He let himself be used by you, and as your grip in his hair tightened, so did that feeling in your stomach. You felt another orgasm come over you, and he let you ride it out, quite literally.  

You expected to start feeling spent by now, but you didn't. So before he could climb back up your body to kiss you, you were sitting up and pushing him onto his back.

He landed on it with a thud, puffing out air and looking at you incredulously. 

You let the primal urges take over as you lowered yourself onto your stomach, and took his member in your hand. You licked up the underside of his cock, your eyes never leaving his. He groaned as you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

You placed a soft kiss on the tip, and licked the strings of precum off your lips. 

"Fuck..." He whispered.

"Let me return the favor." You mumbled before you took his tip between your lips.

You let your tongue swirl over it a few times, savoring his taste. He brought his hand down to your face, and pushed your hair back for you. 

You let your tongue run down the underside of his cock, and you sunk your mouth onto him. You had completely engulfed him, and were struggling not to gag. Still, you never intended to stop. 

He was grunting as your head bobbed up and down on him, saliva collecting at the corners of your mouth and dripping down to pool at his pelvis. 

"Making--ah fuck--such a mess for me, darling." He groaned. 

He lets you keep at your own pace for a while longer before he starts thrusting into you. He kept your head in place, and you gagged and tears started running down your cheeks. Each stroke became more and more erratic, until ropes of his hot cum were shooting down your throat. 

He pulled you off of him and you gulped down breaths of air. He was caressing your cheek, swiping a mix of tears, spit and cum from your lips before kissing you. 

That's how you both continued throughout the night. Pleasuring each other, nearly non-stop, under the moonlight. Your mind was fractured, nothing else but him existed inside of it. He'd touched, fondled, massaged, and embraced you, until you could only respond with breathy whispers of his name. 

"Felix..." You sighed, when he was bringing feeling back to your numb legs by massaging them.

"Felix..." You moaned, as he slowly took you as you both laid on your sides.

"Felix..." You screamed as you came undone on top of him, riding him roughly.

He took you in many different positions, and you indulge yourself in each one. When he wasn't fucking you, you were whining in complaint and going down on him. If he wasn't going down on you, he was edging you with his fingers. Your hands never left each other's bodies, always needing connection. You were sure he was just as familiar with your body as you were by this point. 

The exhaustion finally hit when he had you on your back in a mating press. The last thing you remember, is staring up into the twilight sky. Dawn was approaching, the stars were disappearing before your eyes, as the golden glow of the sun started to peek through. 

Your eyes were fluttering as you fought unconsciousness, determined to finish fucking this completely ethereal creature. Felix was barely putting in an effort to fuck you, but he still slid in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, as if he wanted to keep your orgasm at bay. You both wanted to extend this moment in time, but your body wouldn't have that.

When you finally let go, cumming on his cock for what felt like the hundredth time. That's when your eyes shut and you gave into the exhaustion. 

The familiar scent of nag champa incense filled your nostrils as you started to come to. 

Your bedroom, permanently infused with your favorite scent to burn, that's where you were. The familiar feel of your sheets beneath you, and your heavy comforter confirmed that.  

Your mind still felt a little cloudy as you started to recall how you got to your bed from the forest. 

That's when you feel a body next to you and your eyes shot open.

"Felix?" You croaked, your voice dry and hoarse.

He was laying next to you on his side, in your bed, in your house. 

He had the blankets pulled up to his waist, and was resting his head on his hand. Elbow propped up, so he could see you better. He was shirtless and he wore that same smile on his face, like he was so fond of you.

"Is that still the only thing you can say, little dove?" He whispered teasingly. 

"How- I mean, why-?" You stutter as you attempt to sit up in bed, but your entire body aches. 

You hiss at the burning sensation you felt between your legs. And your legs, gods, you don't think that they've ever felt so sore. 

"Easy darling, you need to rest." He said as he helped you sit up. 

He reached over to his side of the bed and handed you a glass of water, motioning for you to drink. 

You eyed him curiously as you sipped your water, finishing it rather quickly when you realized how thirsty you were. 

"I ran you a bath and kept it hot, when you're ready we should wash you up more." 

"More?" You questioned him.

"I did clean you up last night, I'm not a monster. The bath will help ease your muscles." He chuckled.

"How did you even know where I live?" 

"It's not hard to figure out, we weren't that far from it. Your house is the only one for miles." 

You still felt guarded around him, even after the night you shared. If the stories your mother told you turned out to be partially true, you could only imagine what other lore could turn out to be true. 

Now this mischievous creature knew where you lived, he was in your home.

"I know this is your sacred space little dove, I don't intend to intrude. However, I couldn't exactly leave you in the state you were in. How are you feeling? Is your head a little clearer?" He spoke softly as he brushed his fingers through your hair. 

It is. Almost all of that dazed feeling was gone, you felt more lucid. In that clarity though, a rush of embarrassment hit you. You felt your skin heat up at the more clear memories of last night. 

You were never the type for hookups or one night stands, yet the things you did with this perfect stranger... This perfect magickal stranger... they felt unspeakable. You'd never lost yourself so completely in someone else's presence, much less with your own... sessions. 

You hide your face in your hands and rub at your temples, trying to make sense of this entire situation. Of your own feelings. You didn't exactly regret it or hate it. Something still felt off. Not only was the entire act abnormal in general, and downright questionable. But it was so out of character for you. Did he use... compulsions? Did he have that type of magick?

"Thinking too hard will just exhaust you more." He said.

"Look..." You sigh, as you turn to face him, "I'm a little lost here, I don't know what to make of this all." 

Next thing you know, he's off the bed. He's picking you up in his arms, and you notice you're both still nude. Your face flushes again at that, and you struggle a bit in his arms.

"Be calm darling, I'm just taking you to the tub. We can talk about it all." 

You let him place you in the tub, and then he's sliding in behind you. Slotting you between his legs. He's pulling you back towards him, so you lay against his chest. You both sit like that for a few moments, absorbing the heat from the bath and getting used to each other in a new type of intimate way.

You should be kicking him out of your house. You should be cussing him out. Defending yourself, but why didn't you feel the need to defend yourself against him? Why were you drawn to him? 

When you think about the facts, some would say you were attacked last night. I mean there's a reason the Fae call it a punishment You didn't feel attacked though. You enjoyed yourself, as crazy as that is to say. 

You always knew you were an adventurous soul, but you never thought to this extent. 

How do you come to terms with actually feeling okay with this whole thing, when you knew you shouldn't be?

"You're a witch, right?" He suddenly asks you, breaking your train of thought. 

"I am... though I'm beginning to question the validity of that title, seeing as I have an actual magical creature behind me." You mumble. 

You knew the magick you practiced was real. You could feel it. It's not like you could create fire though, or move things, or transfigure things in front of you. You weren't even sure Felix could do any of that as an elf. You weren't sure of anything anymore. 

You felt like you were entering an existential crisis. Panic was starting to settle within you when you felt his chest vibrate with laughter, it was an oddly soothing sensation that you know you've felt before.

"No, you are. I can sense it, it's in your blood. It took me a while to piece it together, but you are a witch through and through. Sometimes humans don't know of their tie to the magickal world, but I figured... from your altar, among other objects and ingredients I've noticed here, that you knew." 

You hummed, your mother always told you that you were a part of a long line of witches. She raised you heavily within her practice. You never doubted her, but somehow this new revelation made it so much more real. You realize this was opening a whole new aspect in your own practice. A hidden world, seemingly waiting for your return.

"Is that why you came to me? Because you sensed a witch was near?" You questioned him, your hands playing with the water. 

"No, you stepped inside my fairy ring. I have to say I was shocked. I placed it in, what I thought was, an inconspicuous area. I hadn't realized your home was nearby."

"Okay, I'm going to need you to explain." You sighed. 

"Well... you already know what I told you yesterday. The stories you were told, were passed down by your ancestors and other mortals in general. You don't really just dance in fairy rings, that's a small fib we tell the children. As more human children found the rings, when we'd find them dancing. We'd send them off, warning them if they came in again that we would have them dancing until they faint. When our own children wandered into them curiously, we'd tell them the same thing until it became time for them to learn. It's just something stupid the ancestors came up with, I don't know... It does always start out with a courting dance though, but the main reason for them is, inside a fairy ring... you mate. They're essentially a part of an ancient mating ritual."

At that you nearly jumped up to smack him, but he was a step ahead of you. His arms tightened around your body, pinning your arms to your chest. 

"MATING?!" You screamed at him, trying to turn your head and make eye contact, "I don't fucking wan-" 

"Please, calm down little dove. It's not possible for me to actually breed you. That requires an entirely different ritual, one that hasn't been performed in centuries. I'm not even sure anyone would know how to perform it these days..." He trails off. 

"So then why even lay these stupid Fae traps for humans anyways?!" You screech. 

"They're not traps, and they're not meant for humans." He says defensively, and you can hear the pouting in his tone, "Think of it like this. You know how some penguins build big and pretty nests to attract a mate? It's kind of like that. It's a lot to explain in detail, and I had to create one. Now that I'm of age, it's expected of me to find a partner. Even if I don't find the need to." 

"And why do they exist in this realm if they're not meant for us?"

"Well, a long time ago, back when there was only this realm, and there were more Fae than humans, they came across one. That fairy was so angry at the human for intruding on something so intimate of his, and he threatened the human with a punishment. Before any of the other Fae could stop him, he entered the ring. When they both were inside of it, they were overcome with the magic of the ring. The courting dance had started, and no one else was able to enter. The desire for each other grew. In his anger he must've forgotten what the ring's intention was, and was only focused on punishing the human. But he never got that far. They ended up... mating. They never separated from that night, spending their lives together. It was millenia ago. It created an uproar though. Our kinds had never joined before that way."

You sat and listened, calming down a bit as he told you this story.

"There were battles, not an outright war but there might as well have been. They grew to love each other, and they led the winnings of those battles to stay together. They opened the door for Fae and humans to be together, but it has always been frowned upon from both sides."

There was an entire history of this world that you had never known. One that you could never even imagine to be true. But it is. Before your mind let you delve into it though, you thought back to something he said.

"Overcome with magic? These rings hold compulsions over beings?" You questioned hastily, needing to confirm your suspicions. 

"No. It's not like that..." He sighed, "Didn't you feel different last night?" He continues, "The mushrooms release something like a pheromone. An aphrodisiac, to enhance your sexual stamina. Among other mood boosting and energy boosting properties. It starts by uplifting your mood, making you feel the happiest you've ever been. Then you start dancing, your energy building up in preparation for what's to come. It's not until your partner enters that the aphrodisiacs start releasing. But it doesn't just take away your consent like that. Both parties have to be willing... it needs to be mutual. Though that's not to say that's not how every instance turns out. Evil exists in all realms." 

You shivered at his words, trying to process everything. You could clearly remember the primal urges taking over, the need to constantly be filled. It explained that off feeling, why you were acting so out of character. But you couldn't deny that you had wanted it. 

Craved it. 

You never tried to stop it, never wanted to stop it... In fact you initiated it to an extent. 

He started talking again, "That's why I couldn't just leave you there. Especially not in that forest, where other creatures lurk and might find you. I never felt anything dark there, but that doesn't mean it won't come along. I brought you home. I cleaned you up, I made you drink because you were getting dehydrated. I cared for you."

He was loosening his grip around you to rub your shoulders. It made you think back to the skilled massages he gave you last night, in between all of the sex. He made sure to take care of you the whole night it seemed.

"But none of this answers my question from earlier, why not place the rings in your own realm now? Why would any of the Fae place them here?" You asked.

"There are many different reasons..." He mumbled, "Some of them do it because they want to experience sex with a willing human. Some of them do use them as traps for humans, and those Fae are disgraceful, downright evil. Most of those types have been banished from the realm I come from. But some are like me. We try to hide them, from everyone. Because even though we're required to have them, we don't want to use them."

Then you thought back to his previous words, "Wait... 'find your partner' you said? Are we- do we have some sort of bond now?"

The silence was thick in the air. You waited for him to speak, but he didn't, so you turned around in the tub to face him. Your legs spread out on top of his, as you half straddled his lap. 

His eyes stared into yours, expressionless. It was much colder than his usual warm aura, so you grabbed his hand to hold it, and asked again in a softer tone, "Do we?" 

"We don't have to. It's not permanent. Most Fae who get humans within their rings leave them there once they've passed out anyways. Humans don't have the same stamina as we do, even with their boosted energy from the ring. The first woman passed out, that's where the ancestors got their silly tale from." He spoke tightly, like he was debating even revealing this bond at all. 

"I see." You replied, even though you had many more questions and didn't have a full grasp on it all. 

Not much made sense. In a span of hours you found out the true existence of a hidden realm, and these magickal creatures. You met one, you slept with him, then you actually slept with him, and now you bathe with him. You talk with him, as if all of this is a normal day.

It should all unsettle you more than it actually does. You should be freaking out, 100% meltdown level. This is the story of fairy tales, and maybe not a good one. This could be the big bad wolf and you could be little red riding hood. But somehow, you were comfortable in his presence. Comfortable enough to want to spend more time with him. To learn more, about him, his world, and this new bond. 

So you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving his lips a small peck. 

"Maybe we could... figure it out together? See what happens next, if you explain more to me, that is." 

His eyes lit up with hope, and his charming smile returned to his face. The thought that you could wake up every day to that smile entered your head quicker than you could blink.

You'd figure something out. You had to. He couldn't leave your life now. Not when it seemed like it was just getting started thanks to him.

Taglist:

@eczlipse @sailor--sun @maisyyyyyy @jupire @prettiichocolateprincess

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@nebugalaxy @wowitsafemale @irrevocable-exposure

As always, please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist. And if you do, pretty please interact with my fics besides liking (ie; replying/commenting/reblogging). Although I will always appreciate liking as well! Feedback is always cherished! ♡

But again, please be gentle in your criticism! I am but a sensitive soul.

[milksockets]

selections from 'the survival series,' 1983 in jenny holzer - diane waldman (1989)

[sapphicjackal]

Baby Dimension au

inspired by this

Baby dimension au

One of the many things that had always bothered Shen Yuan about Proud Immortal Demon Way was the way that Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky treated Luo Binghe’s children. 

By the time that Luo Binghe was into his centuries long reign and the story completed, Luo Binghe had dozens of children. Some were named, and others were only known by the fact that their mother had to go into seclusion in the background of a harem drama. The exact number of his kids were unknown, and Luo Binghe showed little to no interest in them beyond their continued survival.

To ensure his children’s survival, Luo Binghe used Xin Mo to create a pocket dimension of sorts. Only his most trusted servants would be selected with the task of living permanently in these hidden realms to raise his children. Each child had their own separate pocket realm and caretaker, with children born of the same mother being grouped together.

Some of the more filial mothers spent time with their children, and Shen Yuan quietly suspects that a number of the ditched Harem members chose to live with their children instead of in the palace full of snakes. 

The reason the fan dubbed ‘baby dimension’ came into existence was because of Luo Binghe’s first children. 

Luo Binghe’s foray into fatherhood began with his first two children, Luo Meiying and Luo Fang. 

When Luo Binghe lived on Qing Jing Peak, he had made a promise with Ning Yingying that when he married her, they would have a beautiful child together. Once the three realms had been unified, revenge had been taken, and the harem had been settled; Airplane introduced that retconned promise. Ning Yingying asked if they could finally have a baby together and Luo Binghe agreed.

Of course, this sent Sha Hualing into a jealous fit. She acted out and terrorized the other harem members until Luo Binghe agreed to give her a child as well. To prevent Sha Hualing from escalating and trying to do anything to make Ning Yingying miscarry, Luo Binghe agreed to impregnate her as well.

Naturally this led to a threesome sex maraton between Ning Yingying, Sha Hualing, and Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe gathered a fertility lotus plant for the two of them, and they locked themselves away in Luo Binghe’s chambers for 3 days. The two girls spent the whole time fighting each other and vying for Luo Binghe’s attention as well as more turne with the Heavenly Pillar. 

It ended with both of the wives undeniably pregnant.

Fast Forward some harem antics where some wives tried to sabotage the pregnancies, and a lot of kinky pregnancy related sex, the two babies were born. Ning Yingying’s daughter, Luo Meiying, and Sha Hualing’s son, Luo Fang. Luo Binghe was there for the births of his children and he seemed genuinely pleased about it. Sha Hualing and Ning Yingying were obviously the most favored wives for a time, as Luo Binghe exclusively dual cultivated with either of them and spent a lot of time with his children.

Then the readers got bored of this domestic arc.

Luo Binghe’s children were faced by constant threats, targeted by the harem and his enemies alike. The dangers were so numerous that Sha Hualing herself wanted to go into seclusion with her child, just so that her son would survive. Of course, she was more motivated by the fact she didn’t want to lose the leverage that the child gave her after all of the effort she spent bringing it into the world, but still. It was a problem.

The solution?

Creating a series of Hidden Realms using Xin Mo. 

Since the space was only accessible through Xin Mo, nobody could threaten the safety of his children any longer. He allowed his wives to choose their most loyal servant to entrust the task of raising their children. After setting them up with all they would need, and telling the mothers they could ask any time for visits, he left the children to be raised in the Hidden Realms, with the expectation they could leave once they reach adulthood.

After that, his children were promptly forgotten and only mentioned in passing.

Ning Yingying ended up having another child later on, and that one joined his older sister in the Baby Dimension after being weaned. 

From there, pregnancies and children were only mentioned in passing. There were no updates as to what goes on in the Baby Dimensions, and Luo Binghe’s children became yet another forgotten plot line. 

Any children he had were forgotten in favor of an ever expanding harem of women who were wedded, bedded, and forgotten.

The whole thing bothered Shen Yuan immensely, being a common topic that he brought up in his vicious reviews of each chapter. Yes, Luo Binghe was a blackened stallion protagonist, but it didn’t make sense for his character to simply have a bunch of children that he forgot existed in favor of getting his dick wet. Luo Binghe seemed to genuinely love his children during the time before he sent them away, and it was the closest thing to happiness that he displayed since the beginning of the story with his adoptive mother.

None of the other fans cared about it, so Luo Binghe’s unknown number of children were thoroughly forgotten. Even the end of the story didn’t address the children whatsoever! Not even a mention of Luo Binghe having an heir, let alone multiple.

Shen Yuan had never forgotten about it, but it did get tucked away in some far off corner of his mind after he transmigrated. 

Now, he lived as Shen Qingqiu, and he was happily married to his own version of Luo Binghe.

The reason all of his prior frustrations came racing back to him is because his husband asked if they could have children. The two of them had been married for 15 years now, and a lot of the problems from earlier in their relationship had been worked on. Luo Binghe was no longer as intensely jealous because of his abandonment issues to the point that having children would be upsetting to him.

They were in a good place to start discussing things. 

Shen Qingqiu had stepped down as Peak Lord with the rest of the Qing generation in favor of their successors, and instead moved full time to the Demon Realm. He had long since revealed his true identity as a transmigrator to his Husband, so Shen Yuan adopted his old name once he left the Human Realm.

Their rule was secure, they had been married for years, and their relationship was stable. It seemed like the perfect time to add to the family.

There did exist flowers and relics that could allow men to get pregnant, however, once Luo Binghe brought up the topic, Shen Yuan’s mind instantly went to the abandoned children of Luo Bingge.

Shen Yuan knew that his Binghe would be a wonderful father, one that would never abandon his children. Shen Yuan never really got over the fact that all those children had been made and discarded, out of sight and out of mind.

So, he made a deal with Binghe.

They would have one biological child together, but after that, any additional children would be ones that they obtained from Binghe’s counterpart. Binghe initially protested, wanting nothing to do with that imposter, but Shen Yuan laid out the way all of those children had been abandoned and how it had bothered him for years.

It took some arguing and tears, but eventually an agreement was made.

Luo Binghe bore pregnancy with grace and sneakily used his blood parasites to ensure that egg split, resulting in twins. Luo Binghe was ecstatic with pregnancy, having fought to be the one that carries the child. Shen Yuan thought that as the Emperor, Luo Binghe should be the one to get him pregnant, but Luo Binghe said he’d only agree to snatching the imposter’s children if he gets to give birth to Shizun’s babies.

Shen Yuan gave in to prevent having a Qi deviation over the sheer nonsense that Luo Binghe spewed.

Shen Mingyu and Shen Yongrui were fraternal twins, a girl and boy. They both took after Shen Yuan more in looks, but shared Luo Binghe’s curly hair, something that Shen Yuan was extremely pleased with. The two were doted on and spoiled endlessly, beloved by their parents and people, who were happy to have an actual heir at last.

When the children were 4, Luo Binghe started to get restless, asking for more. 

Thus began their newfound hobby of breaking into Baby Dimensions and kidnapping children.

Well, to be more exact.

Thus began a series of excursions where they traveled to various baby dimensions to meet with the children there and get to know them. When they offered the opportunity to leave and come with them to their own world, each and every child jumped at the chance to leave, even knowing ahead of time that Luo Binghe wasn’t the father that sired them.

They didn’t do it too often. Not wanting to do the same thing as the original and forget about their children and spending time with them because they valued quantity. They made sure that each and every one of their children were loved, regardless of if they were created by them specifically.

Each new addition to their family brought joy to their lives. Shen Yuan truly couldn’t understand how Luo Bingge didn’t adore each of these wonderful beings that he helped create. Shen Yuan loved all of his children, and they were each a blessing.

Maybe Shen Yuan got a little ambitious, because he started to want the two that started it all. Luo Meiying and Luo Fang, the ones that almost could have had a loving father if only the readers hadn’t gotten bored of domesticity. Shen Yuan wanted them to have better. He had avoided taking them thus far because they were the children of the main and favored wives, but they had taken close to a dozen children without notice over the years.

Just like the rest of their siblings, Luo Meiying and Luo Fang agreed to join them. 

However, this time they caught the attention of Luo Bingge. Turns out, Luo Bingge had been noticing his children dwindling, so he set extra protections around all of his remaining children so that he could catch the culprit and save his missing children, if they were still alive.

Luo Bingge came to demand his children back, but his children all claimed that they were Shen Yuan and Luo Bingmei’s children.

Bingge doesn’t actually have THAT many kids at this point in the timeline

SY was grossly overestimating how many kids LBG had in general

atm Bingge only had like 18 kids and Bingqiu stole 10 of them

Bingge does actually check on his kids when he can get away from his harem (which isn’t often)

this is yet another thing that the fake has stolen from him

even his own flesh and blood prefer an imposter over their own father

it really fucks Bingge up

plus side is that he figures out that Nice Shizun is actually named Shen Yuan

then he finds his own SY

And he makes sure that the rest of his kids won’t get stolen by abolishing the baby dimensions and bringing the kids out

SY becomes their teacher

Bingge believes in adopted parent relationships so he doesn’t try to take his kids back, but he does fall into a weird shared custody agreement with Bingqiu

Bingge makes harming his children punishable by death, and his wives are NOT exempt from this. Little Palace Mistress finds this out the hard way when she tries to eliminate one of Bingge’s daughters and gets publicly executed.

Bingge overhauls the harem in general, because now he has got his priorities in order. Which are railing his kid’s teacher, and also taking care of his kids because he doesn’t want them to get taken from him and lose out on them.

Bingge stops expanding his harem and even downsizes it, plus he works out something other than dual cultivation to control Xin Mo because having sex is cutting into his time braiding his children’s hair. And also trying to sleep with their teacher.

Bingge finds being a dad a lot more fulfilling than being a harem master and emperor of the united realms, and also fucking his children’s teacher. That also fills him better.

[surielstea]

Trick or Treat

Selected: Treat

Pairings: Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, Eris, and Lucien x Fem!Reader (Separately)

Summary: A series of SFW one shots all pertaining to a very cozy Halloween.

Warnings: None. All fluffy goodness!

Rhysand

"Come on, all the candy is gonna be gone!" Nyx's voice rang through the house, his little legs bounding down the hallway as I tried my best to finish zipping up his costume. At four years old, my son was bursting with excitement to finally go trick-or-treating. The big event had been all he could talk about for weeks.

"Hold still, sweetheart," I said gently, trying not to laugh as Nyx wriggled, barely containing his energy. He was dressed as a tiny bat, his little wings on his back fluttering as he moved. His eyes, the same color as mine, shone with uncontrollable excitement.

"I am holding still." he declared, though he was clearly doing the exact opposite. "We have to go get candy, Momma!"

I smiled, managing to get the zipper up at last. "There we go, all done. Now go show your father how handsome you look."

With a squeal of excitement, Nyx darted out of the room, his wings flapping, propelling him slightly as he raced toward Rhysand, who was waiting at the front door.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror for a final check of my own costume—a black cat, with fuzzy ears perched on top of my head and a matching tail pinned to the back of my fighting leathers. Rhys had been insistent that I dressed up, and this was the easiest thing I could come up with.

"Dad, look!" Nyx exclaimed, skidding to a halt in front of Rhys. "I'm a bat!"

Rhys knelt down to his level, his eyes gleaming with pride and affection. "A very scary bat," he said, playing along as he ruffled Nyx's dark hair. "You look perfect."

Nyx beamed, clutching his pumpkin-shaped candy bucket, but Rhys's eyes shifted toward me as I approached, taking in my costume with a smirk. "And you, you look perfect too," he teased, rising to his feet. "I don't know if I'll survive trick-or-treating with such a stunning feline on the prowl."

I rolled my eyes playfully, but my heart fluttered at the way Rhys was looking at me. "Don't forget the scary bat that's going to protect us," I said, nodding toward Nyx.

"I'm a very scary bat," Nyx chimed in, his wings flapping as if to prove his point.

"Yes, you are," Rhys agreed, scooping him up with ease and spinning him around, much to Nyx's delight. "The scariest."

Rhys set him back down, offering me his arm as we followed our son out into the crisp autumn evening. "Shall we, darling?"

I slid my arm through his, giving him a soft smile. "We shall."

Halloween was a prized holiday in the night court, aside from solstice, it was the only holiday that truly belonged to us. The streets were alive with children in costumes, laughter, and chatter filling the air as families moved from house to house. Nyx's wings flapped excitedly as he skipped ahead, his small hand occasionally reaching back for ours to guide him along.

"Look, Momma! Pumpkins!" Nyx pointed to a house decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns, his eyes wide with wonder.

"They're spooky, aren't they?" I asked, squeezing his hand as we made our way up the path to the front door.

Nyx nodded eagerly, still staring at them as he rang the doorbell. The door creaked open, revealing an older woman with a smile on her face.

"Well, aren't you the cutest bat I've ever seen," she exclaimed.

Nyx puffed out his chest proudly. "Trick or treat!"

She dropped a few pieces of candy into his bucket, and he grinned up at her. "Thank you," He said with a wild grin, not noticing the way the older female now stared at me and Rhys in shock, the High Lord and Lady on her doorstep.

"C'mon, we've got more houses," Rhys said, grabbing Nyx's hand, either he didn't notice either or he was too unbothered to care.

As we walked back down the path, Nyx peeked into his bucket, clearly pleased with his growing candy collection. "This is the best night ever!" he declared.

Rhys chuckled, slipping his arm around my waist as we strolled behind him. "I think he's enjoying this more than I expected."

"I think you're enjoying this more than you expected," I teased, nudging him gently.

He raised a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "What gave me away?"

"The way you keep sneaking glances at him like he's the only person in the world," I replied softly, my heart swelling as I watched Rhys's gaze soften again.

"Well," Rhys said, his voice warm and intimate, "He's one of the best things that's ever happened to me."

I leaned into him, my heart full. "And the other?"

Rhys glanced down at me, his violet eyes sparkling in the fading light. "You, of course. Though I have to admit," he added, slipping his hand lower, his fingers toying with the tail of my costume, "this might be my favorite version of you yet."

I gave him a playful swat, though I couldn't suppress the grin spreading across my face. "Behave yourself. We've got a little bat to take care of."

On queue, Nyx turned around with a spring in his step. "Come on, more houses!"

We continued through the neighborhood, stopping at each house as Nyx eagerly rang doorbells, shouted his "trick or treat," and ran back to us with his ever-growing stash of candy. At one point, he paused, looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Momma, can we eat some now?" he asked, holding up a candy bar.

"Not yet, sweetheart," I said, kneeling down to his level. "Let's wait until we get home. Then we can all have some together, okay?"

Nyx pouted for a moment but quickly brightened when Rhys chimed in, "I'll make us some hot chocolate to go with it."

"Hot chocolate and candy?" Nyx's eyes lit up. "That sounds yummy!" It sounded like a sugar high that would have him bouncing off the walls.

We finally made our way to the final house, but by the time we reached the doorstep, Nyx's wings were drooping a little, Rhys using his magic to ensure they didn't drag on the ground, the boy's energy starting to wane after the excitement of the evening.

Rhys glanced at me, a knowing smile on his lips. "I think our little bat is running out of steam."

I chuckled tiredly. "It's about time."

Nyx rang the doorbell one last time, his voice quieter now as he called out his trick-or-treat. The male at the door smiled, dropping the last handful of candy in her bowl, into his bucket.

"Thank you," Nyx said, his voice sleepy but happy nonetheless.

As we turned to head home, I could feel Rhys's hand slide into mine, his fingers warm and reassuring. "You know," he said softly, his voice just for me, "I think this is the most perfect night I could have asked for."

I squeezed his hand, leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked. "Me too."

When we arrived back at the house, Nyx was barely awake, his candy bucket clutched tightly in his small hands. Rhys scooped him up, carrying him inside as I held the door open.

"I think someone needs to go to bed," I said, smiling down at our son as his eyelids fluttered.

"But, hot chocolate," Nyx mumbled, already half asleep.

Rhys chuckled, pressing a kiss to Nyx's forehead. "Maybe tomorrow, little bat."

We tucked Nyx into bed, his costume still on as he snuggled into his blankets. As I brushed a kiss against his forehead, I whispered, "Sweet dreams, my love."

Azriel

The cool autumn air nipped at my cheeks as I glanced around the yard, admiring the cascade of orange and yellow leaves fluttering in the breeze. A blanket of fallen leaves covered the grass, and the pumpkins scattered across the porch stood out like bright little beacons of autumn.

Today was pumpkin carving day—a long-awaited tradition for me, and a newly introduced one for Azriel.

I eyed him from where I sat, sitting cross-legged on the porch steps, my tools laid out beside me. Azriel was already at work on his pumpkin, and to my utter amusement, he'd chosen a tool I hadn't expected: Truth Teller.

The revered blade gleamed in the waning light, slicing into the pumpkin's tough skin with effortless precision. I had to bite my lip to stifle my laughter as I watched the way he wielded it with all the seriousness of a seasoned warrior. Carving pumpkins with a sacred blade? Of course, Azriel would make even this casual activity into an art form.

"Are you sure you want to use that?" I asked, grinning as I gestured to Truth Teller. "I don't think the pumpkin is a worthy opponent."

Azriel glanced up, his golden eyes crinkling with amusement. "It's handling the job just fine."

I couldn't help but snicker. "Are you going to take it into battle next? I can see it now—Azriel, the Pumpkin Slayer."

He paused, tilting his head as if considering the idea. "It would certainly be a new addition to my title."

"The Spymaster with a penchant for gourd warfare?" I teased, wiping a bit of pumpkin guts off my hands. "Sounds very intimidating."

"Don't mock the artistry, love," he said with a smirk, twirling Truth Teller in his hand before driving it back into the pumpkin with a flourish. "This requires precision."

"Oh, I can see that," I agreed, my eyes drifting to the intricate pattern he was already working on. "But why not use, I don't know, an actual pumpkin carving knife?"

"Where's the challenge in that?" he replied his voice light but laced with that cool, unwavering confidence he always had.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "I think you're overcomplicating things."

Azriel just raised an eyebrow at me before returning to his masterpiece. Despite my playful banter, I had to admit his carving was impressive—lines smooth and clean, the pumpkin yielding to his every cut as if it knew better than to resist.

I dug into my own pumpkin with the decidedly less sacred and far more ordinary knife I had in hand. "So, are you going for something spooky? Classic jack-o'-lantern?"

Azriel hesitated for a moment, his fingers still wrapped around Truth Teller's hilt. "I haven't decided yet. What do you think?"

I pretended to ponder it seriously, tapping my chin. "What about the night sky?" I suggest. "Moons, stars, the whole shebang."

"The night sky?" His lips twitched in amusement.

"Yeah, it's shadowy and brooding—just like you."

His laugh was soft, the sound warming me from the inside out. "I'm not that brooding."

"Mhmm." I shot him a playful look, wiping my hands on a towel. "I'll believe that when you wear something other than black."

He shook his head, the smallest of smiles playing at the corner of his mouth. "I'll consider it. When you stop insisting on decorating everything in orange."

I gasped dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. "Orange is the essence of fall. It's a tradition."

"Tradition or not, our entire living room looks like it's been overtaken by pumpkins and leaves."

"Well, it's either that or I break out the glitter for winter," I warned, smirking as I saw him visibly flinch at the word "glitter."

"No glitter," he said quickly, the mirth in his voice unmistakable. "Anything but that."

"Then you'll endure the pumpkins," I said sweetly, before turning back to my carving. "Besides, I happen to think they look adorable."

Azriel said nothing, but when I glanced over, I caught him watching me—his eyes warm, his usual guarded expression softened by the easy comfort we'd found in each other. There was something about these quiet moments with him, something grounding about the way we could tease and laugh and exist together, free of the weight that usually clung to him.

"You're staring," I teased softly, meeting his gaze.

"I can't help it," he murmured, his voice dropping to that hushed tone that sent shivers down my spine. "You're beautiful."

My cheeks warmed, and I nudged a piece of pumpkin in his direction to cover my flustered smile. "Flattery won't distract me from the fact that you're taking forever to carve your pumpkin."

"Perfection takes time," he said with mock solemnity, earning a giggle from me.

"So modest, too," I quipped.

Cassian

The glow from the TV casts eerie shadows on the walls, and I already regret my decision to let Cassian pick the movie. I clutch the edge of the blanket, biting my lip as the creepy soundtrack builds up.

"You're not scared, are you?" Cassian's deep voice rumbles next to me, amusement clear in his tone. His arm rests lazily across the back of the couch, but I can feel the heat of his body beside mine.

I scoff, trying to appear unbothered. "Please. It's just a movie." My voice is steady, but my heart isn't. Not when there's a shadowy figure creeping across the screen, ready to jump out and—

I yelp as the creature lunges, squeezing my eyes shut and instinctively burrowing into Cassian's chest, which rumbles with a low chuckle, and I feel his arm tighten around me, pulling me closer.

"Uh-huh," he teases, his lips quirking up in a smirk I can practically feel. "You sure you're not scared?"

I peek up at him, glaring. "I'm not," I protest weakly, though my body betrays me by staying firmly pressed against his side.

Cassian shifts, wrapping his arm fully around my shoulders, his other hand settling on my knee as he pulls the blanket over both of us. "If you say so," he murmurs, his voice soft now, but there's still that teasing lilt.

The movie continues, and every jump scare has me sinking deeper into Cassian's hold, my fingers clutching his shirt. He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he seems to enjoy it a little too much, his thumb drawing lazy circles on my shoulder, grounding me in a way that distracts me from the terror on the screen.

"You're so cute in my arms like this," he whispers in my ear after another jump scare, his breath hot against my skin.

"Shut up," I grumble, though I can't help the warmth spreading through my chest at the sound of his teasing.

He grins, clearly enjoying himself. "You know, I could turn it off if it's too much for you," he offers, though we both know he's only half-serious.

"No way," I say stubbornly, forcing myself to focus on the screen again. "I can handle it."

Cassian chuckles, shifting us so that I'm practically curled up in his lap now. "Sure you can, sweetheart. But I'll keep you safe. Promise."

His words send a different kind of shiver through me, and I lean into him more, letting his warmth chase away the fear. Maybe scary movies aren't so bad—if it means I get to stay in Cassian's arms like this.

Eris Vanserra

The meadow stretched wide before me, its golden grasses swaying in the crisp autumn breeze. The trees on the outskirts were ablaze with hues of orange, red, and yellow, their leaves tumbling through the air like a promise of something magical. I breathed in the scent of damp earth and the unmistakable fragrance of apples that wafted from the orchard in the distance. It was a perfect autumn day.

But nothing compared to the sight of Eris Vanserra.

He sat atop his white stallion with the kind of grace and confidence only he could command, his billowy shirt rippling in the wind. The fabric, loose and white, tugged at his broad chest and arms as he adjusted his hold on the reins, the tall riding boots fitted perfectly to his legs. His red-gold hair, untamed and flowing like wildfire, caught the light, making him look every bit the regal and untouchable prince of autumn.

"You're staring," he said, a sly grin creeping up his face as his sharp eyes caught mine.

"Can you blame me?" I shot back, trying to sound more confident than I felt. The truth was, no matter how many times I saw him like this—so effortlessly captivating—my heart still skipped a beat.

With a quick click of his tongue, Eris urged his stallion forward. The rhythm of the horses' hooves on the forest floor is soothing, and soon, the world falls away, leaving just the two of us wrapped in the embrace of autumn.

"I think you love this time of year more than I do," Eris teases, his voice carrying through the wind.

"I just like seeing you in your element," I say, smiling softly. "You belong here."

Eris looks over at me, a tendril of fire curling around my wrist, up my arm. "I belong with you," he murmurs, his voice low and full of warmth as he looks back to where his horse was leading him.

My heart flutters, even though I know how busy he is, and how much responsibility weighs on his shoulders as the heir to the Autumn Court, he never fails to remind me that I am his constant, his sanctuary.

We ride in comfortable silence for a while, letting the serenity of the forest envelop us. The trees around us seem to glow under the setting sun, their leaves casting a golden light across our path. The smell of damp earth and pine fills the air, and I close my eyes for a moment, soaking it all in.

"Look," Eris says softly, and I open my eyes to see him gesturing toward a small grove of apple trees, their branches heavy with ripe fruit. I smile at the sight.

Without hesitation, we guide our horses toward the grove. Eris dismounts first, his movements swift and effortless, and then offers me a hand as I climb down from my mare. His touch lingers for just a second longer than necessary, his fingers trailing down my arm the way his fire had before he lets go. I step closer to one of the trees, reaching up to pluck an apple from the branch. It's cool in my hand, its skin glossy under the fading light.

"I remember the first time you took me apple picking," I say, biting into the fruit, its sweet juice spilling over my lips. "You were so serious about it," I mumble through a mouthful

Eris chuckles, leaning closer and wiping the juice from the apple off my chin, watching me with that familiar look of amusement. "It's tradition," he says, his voice rich with nostalgia. "And I wanted you to enjoy every part of it."

"Well, you certainly made it memorable," I reply, staring up at him with a love-sick kind of smile. "Especially when you tried to out-pick me."

"I wasn't about to lose to you," he says, crossing his arms with a smirk. "Even if you were unfairly distracting."

I roll my eyes, stepping closer to him. "You're lucky I love you."

"Very lucky, indeed." He tilts his head down at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, then cradling my jaw with a reverent touch.

I rise onto my toes and place a gentle kiss on his lips, one of my hands on his chest for support. A warmth settles over me that has nothing to do with the setting sun. It's the kind of warmth that only Eris ever made me feel, and that warmth didn't so much as flicker as a cold breeze breezed past us.

Lucien Vanserra

I had just slid the last tray of buttery pastries from the oven when the bell over the bakery door chimed, letting in the cool autumn breeze. I didn't need to look up to know who it was, Lucien always carried that earthy, slightly smoky scent no matter where he ventured.

"Evening, love," My mate said whilst hanging up his coat.

"Hi Honey," I smiled up at him while taking my oven mitts off and tossing them onto the counter.

It was late, shopkeepers closing up for the night and silently making their way home on the cobblestones of Velaris. Tomorrow was the debut of my Autumn Menu that I had been developing and revising for the past few months, I had been so stressed about getting everything together that I had completely forgotten about me and Lucien's date night last week, he had told me it was fine, that I shouldn't be worried about him when I was so busy with the bakery, so this was a compromise, I could finish the pastries while Lucien kept me company—and as my official taste tester.

Lucien leaned against the counter, watching me intently as I arranged the freshly baked pastries on a display tray. His golden eye gleamed in the warm glow of the bakery lights, and he was as familiar in my little shop as the scent of vanilla and caramelized sugar. He reached for one of the pastries, his fingers hovering over the flakiest, most tempting treat of the batch, but I swatted his hand away with a laugh.

"No," I teased, drawing the word out and raising a brow. "They just came out, they're too hot."

He frowned, feigning an expression of utter betrayal. "Fire runs in my veins, I think I can handle it." He smirked. "But you already know that, don't you?" He added in a tone that made my heart flutter and my eyes roll.

The humor faded, replaced by a soft sincerity that warmed me more than the oven ever could. "I've missed this—just us here, the world quiet outside." He confessed.

I finished arranging the pastries and brushed the flour off my hands before sliding around the counter to stand in front of him. "Me too," I murmured. "It's been such a crazy week. But I couldn't do this without you." I say as I watch him push off the counter, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. For a moment, I just melted into him, letting myself relax for the first time in what felt like days. "I'm proud of you," he said softly, his voice a comforting rumble against my ear. "Tomorrow, everyone in Velaris will be lining up to try your autumn creations, and they'll be back every week until the trays are empty. I can feel it."

I couldn't help but smile, drawing strength from his confidence. Lucien always had a way of grounding me, reminding me why I loved what I did, even when the pressure was high. I tipped my head back to look at him, brushing a kiss along his jaw. "Thanks, Lu. But you know," I added with a mischievous grin, "if you're so set on getting a taste, I suppose I could make a little exception."

His eyes lit up as I turned back toward the tray, picking the perfect pastry. I held it up to his lips, watching as he took a careful bite, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored it.

When he opened them again, a look of pure bliss had settled over his face. "Amazing," he declared. "Absolutely perfect."

I felt a sense of relief and joy bubble up within me. "Really?"

"Really," he assured me, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my lips. I tasted the buttery, delicate sweetness of the pastry mingled with his warmth, and my heart gave a little flutter. It was moments like these that reminded me how grateful I was to have him as my mate, my support, my everything.

Read the NSFW version here -> Link

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Welcome to the Masterlist for The Lakes. A series (yes, series) which I hope will be a staple of your autumnal days alongside steaming tea, cosy candles and thick, fluffy blankets.

This series is complete.

A Link to my regular Masterlist is HERE

The Lakes: Captain Rogers in his infinite wisdom has decided that a select team of Avengers require a crash course in basic outdoor survival skills. Location? The Lake District, England.

In the crisp chill of autumn, based out of a tiny and remote cottage, your reluctant role as the resident 'expert' is put to the test. But nothing the wilds of Cumbria can throw is more testing than the ever-present irritations and temptations of your recent ex, Loki.

Warnings: More domestic humour, thirst, mild angst and fluff than smut. Although there is some smut obviously, because I have a problem.

Characters: Agent Reader (no YN), Loki, Thor, Steve

Each chapter will have a suggested vibe setting track from Taylor Swift's Folklore which is appropriate but entirely optional.

Chapter-Cottage🏕️ 1. Changing Seasons (w/c 3.8k) 2. Sticks and Stones : (w/c 4.8k) 3. A Long Way Down (w/c 4.6k) 4. Home Truths (w/c 4.5k) 5. A Cunning Plan - (w/c 4.7k) 6. Darkest Night, Brightest Day (w/c 6.2k) 7. Harvest -(w/c 6.2k)

Christmas Specials 8. Secretive Santa (w/c 7.3k) 9. Comfort & Joy (w/c 7.8k)

[gemissleeping]

Velveteen|Theodore Nott

"He knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else."

Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: As the last surviving witch with ties to an ancient form of magic, Dumbledore has you tracking down horcrux hotspots.

Length: 2.2k

Notes: Angst mostly, some fluff. Blood, swearing, smoking. Percy Weasley hate (valid). This is just a little something I had the urge to write. May or may not continue as a series at this stage.

Fuck trees, fuck trolls, and fuck that smug little Weasley auror from the Ministry. He was a rat in y/n's eyes. A scheming, conniving rodent of a man. How he had even tracked her out there was beyond her. She'd made sure to take all of the precautions Snape had given her.

She'd apparated out with Professor Dumbledore. A good fifty kilometres from the point of interest too, might she add. Fifty kilometres she'd had to trek over two days to remain undetected. On foot. All for nothing in the end thanks to Percy.

Bootlicker.

There was no worse feeling than a failed task. Especially when it was one of her most important to date. The map was atrocious really, they clearly had no idea what they were looking for. Just that y/n should be able to sense it. Sniff it out as though she were some kind of blood hound.

Percy she had sensed. Thankfully she had gotten out before he'd seen her face, or the sea cave entrance she'd been eyeing on the cliffs below. She'd have to go back now. Which was absolutely wonderful and definitely did not make her want to tear her hair out.

Merlin, she thought she might hit the next Weasley she came across just for looking like him if she didn't calm down soon. Not Ginny of course, Ginny was lovely. Ronald was fair game though. Fred she would also be impartial to.

To top things off, y/n now found herself fleeing from the edge of the Forbidden Forest towards the castle. She'd missed the welcome dinner, which was a shame. But in all honesty, may have been a small mercy at this point. At least this way most of the students would be asleep, and she could get into the castle undetected.

It wasn't Dumbledore's fault that the end location of the Portkey had seemingly been inhabited by a troll since he had selected it. But how hard was it to check up on, really? Especially knowing she was wandless and unable to cast any regular spells. She'd blasted it to bits, of course. Not before it had gotten one good shot at her though, flinging her into the nearest pine tree.

It was just rather inconsiderate she thought.

The dizziness was setting in as she entered the castle via the Viaduct Bridge, snaking her way down to the dungeons. Making sure to grip every railing or wall available to her. Merlin was on her side that night, not one Professor crossed her path while she had floated through the dim halls. Once the concrete snake had appeared, revealing the door, she almost fell over with relief

The stairs felt so horrifically long, but finally she reached the dim, candle-lit depths of the Slytherin common room. Keeling forward for a moment, y/n placed her hands on her knees as she tried to calm her breathing. Her left palm came away bloodied. There was a tear in her stockings, and a huge gash across her knee.

y/n groaned, making her way around the corner to the couches her friends had claimed in third year. She couldn't wait to fall into one, maybe never wake if she had her way. And she did fall, only into Theodore Nott's eyeline. He looked as though he'd been waiting there for hours from the sweltering anger on his face. She took a deep breath, knowing she was about to get her ass handed to her for a second time that night.

"Nice of you to notify me of your delay."

"Does it look as though I planned on it?" y/n mumbled, sinking into the green velvet couch across from him. She sighed as her tension eased for the first time in days. Head lolling against the couch's back. Her hands shielding her eyes as a headache set in. While Theodore sat deathly still, awaiting further explanation with a burdened gaze. Something told y/n the burden was her.

"Mind if I borrow your wand?" y/n groaned from behind her palms.

There was only silence for a moment, before she heard him shift across from her. When she lifted her head his wand was resting on the table between them. He was pissed, beyond apprehension. But he had softened at her shattered appearance, the blood on her knee. Which she had now unknowingly painted on her cheek.

"Thank you," y/n sighed in relief, half expecting to have to fight for it. She worked quickly, sealing up the gash and cleansing the blood, pine needles, and dirt from her skin. Finishing by stitching her stockings together again. When she finally glanced back up, Theodore was frowning. His eyes sweeping her body up and down as she finished her work. He looked up from the closing threads of her stockings as they meshed around her knee, one eyebrow raised.

"Have something you'd like to say?" y/n grumbled, holding his wand out for him to take. He wasn't a fan of that question, or her attitude. His expression soured once again, all past concern pushed away. y/n brushed more pine needles off of her skirt, too tired and sore to care. She was spent, so completely crushed from the past two days. The knowledge that she had no choice but to continue until she succeeded wasn't helping.

"Have you always behaved like this, or do you just enjoying making me worry insufferably?" Theo leaned forward, and took the wand from her outstretched hand. His fingertips gently brushing her grazed knuckles.

"It's nice to see you too, Teddy," y/n laughed tiredly, shedding more pine needles as she picked them from her stockings. If she shut her eyes now, she worried they were so heavy she might fall asleep sitting up.

"Where have you been? I searched the whole train up and down for you. You missed the Sorting Ceremony," Theo hissed.

"It's a good thing we already know what house I'm in then, isn't it?"

"That's not funny y/n." He scolded, the concern in his voice thinly veiled by the frown he was wearing. She had no idea what it had been like for him, these past few hours especially.

"I need a cigarette before we get into it," y/n sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Everything was aching, she would find solace in a smoke or two. He didn't move. "Please?"

"It's late."

"You're awake," she countered, a hopeful look on her face that he knew he wouldn't be able to dissapoint.

"Because of you," he grumbled, running his hands through his messy curls.

"I'll take that as a yes, be right back," and she was off, disappearing into the dormitories.

"Do as you please, you always do," Theodore huffed under his breath.

He needed one too if he was honest. He felt as though he'd aged a few decades from the fear he'd been wearing all evening while he fretted over her disappearance.

She reappeared a minute or so later, the heavy overcoat he'd brought her for her birthday last year hanging off of her shoulders. The pair took their usual route until they found themselves at the top of the hill just outside the grounds, overlooking Hagrid's hut. y/n stood, overlooking the moonlit valley beneath them. The peace quickly disintegrating into swearing as the wind prevented her from sparking up. Theo had been hanging behind slightly, still not having forgiven her. But upon hearing the quiet curses falling from her lips, he couldn't help but walk over.

"You shield, I'll light it," he instructed, y/n doing as she was told and holding the sides of her coat up.

He closed the open space with his chest in two gentle steps. His thumb running over the flint of the lighter as the wind went quiet and y/n's face grew warm. He brought it to her lips, unable to keep himself from looking as he lit the cigarette between them. She took a relieved drag as the flame took. Theo got out his own cigarette, leaning down to press its tip to hers. He inhaled, spreading the flame between them. The grass was dewey beneath them as they smoked. Theo looked over to y/n, trailing over her body just to make sure.

"You've got pine needles in your hair, by the way," Theo murmured as he took another drag. His eyes flickering from hers, to the ground as he tapped his cigarette.

"Oh for fuck's sake," y/n heaved, tilting her head back in exasperation. She began ripping the hair ties from her two braids and brushing her fingers through them to shake the needles loose. Balancing her cigarette between her lips as she did.

"Still there," Theo mused, studying her with an amused expression as her frustration grew.

She passed him her cigarette wordlessly, which he took. She'd have rather not set herself alight on top of everything today. Then tipped her head forward, carelessly dragging her fingertips through it to rid herself of them. Once she was done, she flung her hair back. Raising an eyebrow in Theo's direction. He only gave her a saccharine smile as he took a drag from her cigarette, keeping it lit.

"Still?" y/n asked in disbelief, taking her cigarette from his lips and placing it between her own.

"Come here, sit," He shook his head, as though she was the most useless creature he'd ever seen. Theo walked over to the steps nearby, sitting on the top one. She followed suit, tucking her coat beneath her and taking a seat two steps down. She dipped her head back, leaning on her elbows. Her head resting between his knees. Theo couldn't help but admire the way her hair fell, even in its current mess.

Pressing the nub of his cigarette into the grass after one final drag, Theo brushed his hands off. His fingers quickly lacing through her hair in gentle streams as he dragged out the remaining pine needles. Christ there were a lot of them. He ran his fingers through it again, carefully to ensure he didn't snag anything. He did it again, and again. The pine needles were long gone. But her breathing had grown steady, and her shoulders relaxed. And that mattered far more to him than some pine needles.

"All clear?" She whispered sleepily, her head falling all the way back to meet his eyes.

"All clear," Theo echoed, the dried blood beneath her eye making him wince. "You missed this though," he reached out, pressing his thumb to his tongue and running it under her eye to brush the blood away.

"Ew," y/n gasped, but if she was honest, she was too tired to care. She swatted his hand away gently. Taking another drag from her cigarette which had been resting beneath her knuckles.

"Need I remind you that you once sneezed in my mouth?" Theo chimed, knowing it was his trump card, and likely would be for eternity.

"That was literally in First Year and it was an accident," she mumbled.

"Still stands." He shrugged.

"You loved it, don't lie." That got a smile out of him, however unwillingly.

"You're foul. Now tell me why you came in several hours late, looking like a troll dragged you through a bush backwards."

y/n's eyes widened slightly at his statement, choking on the dregs of her cigarette in disbelief. His smile vanished, eyes flickering between her own as he gauged her reaction. His jaw clenched as she sat up swiftly.

"Tell me you're joking."

"I think it's bedtime," y/n breathed, going to push herself up and off of the steps. But Theo's hand found her wrist like a vice, pulling her back down before she had a chance. He leant forward as she stumbled closer to him from the force. She just managed to catch herself from falling straight into him.

"I don't think so. What was that?" He said lowly, staring into her eyes. She was eternally fucked now. He could always tell when she lied, and he never tolerated it.

"Just leave it Theo, please," she pleaded, not having the energy.

"I left it all Summer. All of your disappearances, all of your little quests. You promised me it would be done by the end of the Summer. I have it in fucking writing, so don't tell me to leave it. What is going on?" He seethed, and y/n found herself unable to meet his eyes.

"Teddy, you know I can't-"

"God I'm so sick of hearing that." He laughed, a cruel sound, not his usual light-hearted teasing. "The Professors have you off, running around like some toy soldier, but you're not allowed to tell me what for. Then they're not even there to help you when things go wrong?"

"It's-"

"Despicable is what it is."

"Would you listen to me?"

"I would, but it's not like you'd be able to tell me anything, is it?"

The words left y/n silent, because they were true. She wished so terribly that they weren't. That she hadn't done it.

"I've always told you everything, y/n. I don't understand why-"

"I made the unbreakable vow."

The words rushed out of her as though she were going to be sick. The silence that followed her confession only made it more probable. Theo's features had darkened as her confession sunk in. He let go of her wrist, his hand wound into a fist as he looked out at the treeline of the forbidden forest. He stayed that way for a few moments as y/n stood before him, silently begging him to say something.

"Dumbledore," he breathed out finally, his voice straining with the effort of evenness, "you made the unbreakable vow, with Dumbledore?"

"I had to Theo, it was too important. They can't take any risks. Not until everything is done. I wanted to tell you, more than anything. I still want to-"

"Do you suppose he's ever made Potter make one?" Theo turned to her, looking as though he was about to set them both alight.

Her explanations fell dead on her tongue. They both knew he hadn't. Both knew what Dumbledore was scared of when it came to her.

"I didn't think so either," Theo conceded to her silence, his voice turning hollow. y/n felt something within her crack at the truth of his words. He was wrong, or at least she wanted him to be.

"It's different."

"I'm not sure it is," Theo countered, and he knew he was right in saying it.

Because it wasn't any different. The difference was trust. They were using her up and once they were done they would spit her out, or worse. He wasn't going to be able to sleep easily now.

"You should get to bed, I'll see you at practice tomorrow," he huffed, staring out to the forest again.

y/n stood there for a moment, hoping she could think of something to make it better. But as Theo lit another cigarette, the only thing she felt was tired.

[satoshi-mochida]

Fate/EXTRA Record launches in 2025 for PS5, PS4, Switch, and PC - Gematsu

Fate/EXTRA Record will launch for PlayStation 5, PlayStation 4, Switch, and PC via Steam in 2025, publisher Bandai Namco and developers TYPE-MOON and TYPE-MOON studio BB announced.

Here is an overview of the game, via its official website:

About

The “Moon Holy Grail War” begins anew… The setting is a Spiritron virtual world called “SE.RA.PH.” built on the moon. Masters and Servants team up and fight for survival in pursuit of the “Holy Grail,” an omnipotent wish-granting device, in the Moon Holy Grail War which begins once again… This is a remake of Fate/EXTRA, the first Fate series RPG originally released on July 22, 2010, now revamped for modern hardware with an expanded scenario, refreshed character graphics, and dramatic command battles utilizing a highly strategic deck-building system.

Master and Servant

128 of the world’s top hackers, each capable of transforming their soul into Spiritrons, are selected as Masters to participate in the Holy Grail War. The Servants they form contracts with are the souls of legendary heroes and eminent figures from history, whose true names are concealed. These Servants are materialized as Spiritron life-forms and are assigned to one of seven classes, such as Saber or Archer. Through their shared struggle, where they entrust their souls to one another, their pasts and hidden desires intersect.

Staff

Original Story and Scenario: Kinoko Nasu / TYPE-MOON

Original Character Concept: Takashi Takeuchi / TYPE-MOON

Planning and Direction: Kazuya Niino / TYPE-MOON studio BB

Character Design: Arco Wada

Watch a new trailer below.

FGO Fes. 2024 Trailer

[lostberet]

˚ ༘ ♡ ⋆.˚ WORLDTOUR teaser | ot7 (m)

𐙚 synopsis: The year 2026 has arrived, and instead of returning to their loving jobs as Idols, Bangtan is stuck serving South Korea after a mysterious outbreak. However, what these two jobs have in common is their World Tour.

༘⋆ genre: explicit (18+) ; angst , romance , violence, suspense , smut ; military au , idol au? ,

༘⋆ disclaimer: Violence, Gore, Graphic Violence, Use of Weapons, Mention of death, eventual smut, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

༘⋆ a/note: ANOTHER SERIES, hello my jelly fishies, this is a series that will be broken up into a mini-series for each member, please let me know who's tour you'd like to read first!

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 7:35 pm

“I apologize, but there is not enough space for you and your crew at this moment, captain.” There was commotion, each service worker going into their own phone calls answering, some sobbing and others yelling in frustration, “Please stay safe, I will send a boat whenever there is one available.” 

Yoongi removed the head-phone caller from his head, taking in a deep breath as he stared at the large screen before him. A world map showing multiple red dots of the Korean Military’s location, and some of them were his friends. 

“They’ll be fine.” A familiar voice said beside him, Yoongi turned his head, meeting NamJoon’s. Yoongi only remained silent and Namjoon took his silence as a rejection, “SeokJin wants to have dinner together.”

Namjoon tired again, trying to bring his older brother back from his dark thoughts, “I can’t stomach anything right now.” Namjoon nodded, a faint smile on his face as he patted Yoongi’s back, “I know.. But whole they’re out there━ surviving━ so are we back here.” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 7:37 pm 

“Hyung!” Hoseok turned from his still-position, his vision blurry from the heavy rain, “yeah?”  Squinting, he was able to make up one of his members, “Hyung, time for dinner, chief also has some information regarding international news,” Jimin’s voice was calm, his body turning to look out into the city. The rain filled the silence between them. Hoseok only swallowed, he was worried, nervous━ yet, what he was feeling was nothing compared to what Jimin felt. 

Jimin will be able to know more about the two younger ones. The two who were selected to actually fly across the world in where they had absolutely no contact. Hoseok held onto Jimin’s shoulder, “I’m sure everything is fine!” Hoseok chirped, a bright smile on his lips. Jimin only gave a small smile back. He was just thankful that among all this chaos, he had a brother with him.

United States of America, Texas - San Antonio      4:30 am

“We gotta get moving, let’s go soldiers!” an American soldier commanded as he waved the small group into a building, shutting the door behind him. 

The American soldier removed his helmet, turning to another American soldier, “when is the plane arriving?” The American took a while to respond as he checked his watch, “In about 5 minutes, captain.” 

The American Captain nodded, clenching his jaw as he looked at his small team, his eyes landing on the two foreigners, “Ya hear that, you two?” The Captain bit back a grin, “you motherfuckers are going back home.” 

Jungkook leaned against the concrete wall, panting from running a few miles, a toothy smile visible as he heard the Captain’s words. He looked over at Taehyung, who smiled at the thought of going back to Korea. 

“We’ll have to go down to Mexico, from there, the flight will be directly towards Jeju Island.” The American soldier informed the crew, earning nods in response. 

The clock had struck 4:35 am, and the door’s of the safe house were opened once more, the American Captain commanding his troops to run towards the plane location━ 1 mile away. 

Taehyung jogged behind the Captain and one other American soldier, Jungkook was right behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the dark morning. Taehyung wasn’t tired, he’d trained to the point that running miles didn’t make his heart pump to the point of fainting. So, why was his heart pumping so fast? 

It became so loud to the point that he only heard his heartbeat against his chest━ it didn’t take long for him to realize that something was right, his whole body felt it, but he kept moving forward. He’ll be on the plane home no less than a mile away. 

“Get down!” Before Jungkook could process the foreign warning, a building on his far left exploited━ sending building pieces flying towards their direction and with it, the familiar grunts and screams of death. “Everyone run!” 

It took a second for Jungkook’s body to react before he started springing to the desired location. His eyes focused on Taehyung’s back. As the group got closer to the military base, sounds of gun-shots started taking over the grunts and screams. Startled by the sudden fire, Jungkook dropped to his knees, covering his ears━ a bad reflex response his body had come up. However, his arm was being pulled by one of the American Soldiers, “Get up━we’re almost there!” 

Almost being dragged by the American, Jungkook stumbled upon his feet, running alongside them. His reaction had cost him some time. Upon entering the gate to the military airport, he witnessed Taehyung entering the plane, along with 2 others. 

20 feet more and Jungkook will also be in that plane. 19 more feet and Jungkook was tackled down on the floor, the sound of fire getting louder and louder━ but Taehyung’s call was the only thing Jungkook could hear. 

And as the door of the plane closed and the plane rose from the ground up to the air━ the last image of Taehyung Jungkook will never forget was how he still reached for him.  And the last image of Jungkook Taehyung got to witness was how he was being dragged off the ground by the American Captain, his gun firing at the dead. 

It was 4: 50am when Taehyung threw his helmet against the metal floor of the plane, pacing around, his body trembling as he tried wrapping his head over what had just happened. He wasn’t going back home without Jungkook.

It was 6:00 am when Taehyung had come up with a plan to return to America and find Jungkook. It was also the time the plane began to share the same trembling as Taehyung’s body. It was 6:15 am when Kim Taehyung’s plane crashed into Mexico, Monterrey. 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:05 pm

The small lobby held a few soldiers, it only held the ones who had loved ones internationally━ So, SeokJin, Yoongi and NamJoon found themselves in that same room, awaiting their turn to receive their news. 

“Jun-ha,” The Captain called out, “Your sister is doing just fine in Thailand. The Thailand Military will bring her home, she’ll take a plane back to Korea in about a day.” The sound of sobs echoed in the room, 

It was 8:15 when the group was dismissed, bringing panic and confusion among the oldest Bangtan members, “Captain, what about our boys?” SeokJin called out, earning a few looks from the leaving soldiers, “Hoseok and Jimin are just fine in Japan.” 

“We know they’re fine, we’re talking about Taehyung and Jungkook.” NamJoon butt-in, his eyes dancing across the Captain’s face, trying to find any sense of emotion. The Captain only licked his lips, avoiding eye contact, “about that..” 

“I swear to god, if something happened to them━” Yoongi stepped in, panic running through his veins before the Captain spoke, “They are fine. Separated but fine.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Japan, Tokyo               time: 8:10 pm 

“Okay.. Taehyung is on his way..” Jimin muttered, his leg bouncing as he tried to calm his nerves, “What about Jungkook?” Hoseok looked between the Captain and Jimin, “Jungkook will take his plane from Miami, we’re not sure when, but he’s safe.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:13 pm

“Thank God..” Seokjin sighed, his head falling into his arms, relief falling into his body. His boys were coming home. Not together, but soon. 

Japan, Tokyo | South Korea, Jeju Island              time: 8:30 pm

Jimin and Hoseok stood on top of the military base, guarding and scanning the area. It was their turn to stand guard for the night. Jimin felt drained, his eyes only focusing on the far distance of the safe house. His thoughts eating him away. 

“Park, Jung, you two copy?” The Captain’s voice echoed through their radio, Jimin slightly turned his head towards Hoseok. Hoseok grabbed his radio, “Yes, Captain, over.”

“Come to the lobby.” 

South Korea, Jeju Island     time: 8:33 pm

“You told us they were fine!” Yoongi yelled, his eyes burning with tears, “The plane fell near a safe base, I’m sure if━” 

“Sure of what?! Do you even know if Taehyung is alive?” Yoongi cut the Captain off, SeokJin bringing Yoongi to sit back down on the chair, “Yoongi’s right.. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.. But.. we want to know if Taehyung survived..” 

United States of America - Dallas, Texas          6:36am

“What..” Jungkook’s voice came out faint, almost a whisper as the color of his face drained, “We’re sending the Mexican safe house near the accident to check the place.. In the meantime, you will head to Miami for your flight.” 

“I’m not going anywhere until I know about Taehyung.” Jungkook said, the American Captain only sighed, “You’ll know, but you need to get to Miami, go back home.” 

Mexico, Monterrey         10:25 am

Taehyung coughed, his eyes opening as he scanned the area, the beaming sun burning his face. The air was very hot against his face, and with a grunt, he pulled himself from the ground. The moment he stood on his feet, he felt the pain run through his spine, he hissed and crunched down. 

“Fuck..” he muttered, his hands running through his body. He hadn’t broken a bone, thank god for that, but his thigh was bleeding, a deep cut, too. He looked around, but there wasn’t much he could do. Just walk it out. 

12:09 pm

Taehyung reached a point where his leg couldn’t keep up, causing him to stop near a small town. Silence welcomed him, no life in sight, and he didn’t mind. His uniform was becoming unbearable, and his thigh was hurting too much. 

He stumbled upon a small store, entering and blocking the entrance behind him. And just like that, Taehyung found a small place that kept him safe for the day. When Night time fell, the heat of Mexico kept him warm, but his thigh still ached. He couldn’t find anything to fix it, he’ll have luck next time. 

That was if he wasn’t found first. 

2024 © LOSTBERET, all rights reserved. please do not copy, plagiarize, translate, repost, or steal my work.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Mint Plays Games: NIbiru

The Pitch

Nibiru is a game about amnesiac characters called Vagabonds, wandering a gigantic space-station habitat in a speculative future, trying to keep their identities a secret even while working to uncover pieces of their memories that they’re slowly starting to recover. It’s a unique game because you create your character backstory as you play, rather than inventing your backstory during character creation.

I find it hard to describe the setting of Nibiru, and I think that’s because there’s so much lore placed inside this game. The locations of the setting are divided into three sections: the Antumbra, The Penumbra, and The Umbra. The Antumbra is located in the centre of the space station, is the most easily habitable, and acts as a series of urban cityscapes, ripe for political intrigue and big social games. The Penumbra is a series of colonies, struggling to maintain control resources, and pushing back against the powerful, well-funded city states of the centre. The Umbra is the barely survivable borders, where gravity pressure, floods and blackouts constantly threaten your life, and small communities try to get by in a setting great for exploration and eerie adventures. Any given group is expected to find ample inspiration in just one of these areas; you certainly aren’t expected to explore the entire breadth of the station (although you can if you want to, of course. It’s your game).

Being a game about amnesiacs, character creation is rather simple. Because you are playing amnesiacs, you don’t have to select a skill list, but rather build your skills alongside your memories; every time you recall a memory, you either give yourself a negative modifier and earn Memory Points, or you spend previously earned Memory Points and give yourself a positive memory. But at the beginning, all you need to do is choose a habitat that carries themes that feel resonant to you, and think about how that might affect your character. However, the Habitats give you the core themes of what you want your character’s story to be about, and I think they’re very special.

The Habitats

There are five Habitats: The Machine, The Leviathan, The Dreadlands, The Dreamlands, and Brighttown. If you are from The Machine, you were some kind of robot or AI in your past life; at some point you gained sentience, and now you’ve awoken in a human body. If you are from The Leviathan, you were originally some kind of animal, driven by instinct; and while your body is different now, those instincts are still there. Dreadlands inhabitants suffer false recollections provided by a parasite called The Nightmare, which turns all of your skills into negative memories, but still shelters and protects you, and gives you plenty of chances to re-try something you’ve rolled poorly on. Dreamlands inhabitants do not collect one set of memories, but rather find themselves reliving periods of various other lives, of people that they meet as they go about the world. And finally, Brighttown players can play versions of themselves, dropped from the mundane world into an alien environment that still occasionally turns up artifacts of the world they came from; pieces of their old life continue to haunt them.

I played a two-shot of Nibiru over the past few months. I had four players for this game, each of whom picked a different habitat to play with. We didn’t have anyone to play the Leviathan habitat, but all of the others were represented. Our first session involved introducing the players to the system, while the characters woke up in a tank of water and found themselves meeting a small settlement that needed help sending aid to their neighbours. Our second session involved a voyage through a series of flooded corridors, dealing with hostile wildlife and suspicious patrols on their way to a hidden settlement built around a strange landmark. From a GM’s perspective, it was a simple delivery mission: get something from point A to point B, and deal with whatever obstacles pop up in front of you.

The Mechanics

This game only uses d4's. In order to do something in Nibiru, a character must make one of three rolls: a regular roll, a contested roll, or a special roll. A regular roll involves rolling 3 dice, adding or subtracting dice according to relevant modifiers, and looking for at least one 4. A result with at least one 4 is a success; a result with no 4’s and at least one 1 is a critical failure. A contested roll involves two players rolling 3 (or more) d4’s and adding them up. The highest total determines who wins out. Finally, a special roll is invoked by the GM whenever the character engages with a special mechanic of the game, either a Stress test, a Habitat mechanic, or some other special rule. Typically a 4 is good and a 1 is bad, but there can be more nuance, depending on what you’re rolling for.

Just from the two-shot, I could tell that Nibiru is more designed for the long haul. Character progression is slow, using two different kinds of experience points, and characters will level up only after filling a journal page with eight memories. Creating these memories is one way to spend these experience points, as well as a way to generate more. This encourages most players to switch between creating positive and negative memories, generating both positive and negative modifiers to any given roll. The biggest advancements happen at the end of the journal page, where characters write something called a Revelation - a special power that uses the second type of XP as a resource, to allow the players do something unique and powerful, such as experience premonitions of the future, or cry black tears that can be used as a poison. Over our two-session adventure, we got nowhere near receiving a Revelation.

That being said, we did play enough of a game to get a good taste of what I think is the most interesting thing about Nibiru - the memories.

The Memories

We began the game with an opening scene of each character pulling themselves from the water, gasping for air, and being confronted with their very first link or memory - something that established each characters’ expected tone. Our Machine character wanted to recall a series of disjointed recollections of the space-ship they were responsible for, and hint at the tragedy that caused them to lose the entire crew. Our Dreadlands character began a series of memories of things going wrong around her home; people arguing and breaking in, threatening those that she held dear. Our Dreamlands character began telling a series of stories about the man he woke up next to; following the confusing tangle of events of his life journeying through the Umbra, and our Brighttown character described to us a memory of something incredibly familiar: a movie theatre, and the ticket that came with them to this new, alien world.

These memories weren’t just establishing character backstory, they were giving the players a chance to build a history collaboratively, and build parts of the world. They also gave the players control over what kind of tone they wanted to set; a Dreadlands player that is consistently creating negative memories is setting a gritty undertone that contrasts the bright, but distant memories of Brighttown. The different themes of the habitats were also clear signposts: a Dreamlands player knows that at some point they might have to help the NPCs they meet reconcile with lost parts of their past, and the decisions they make about what parts to reveal and what parts to keep quiet about says something about who their character is - and how they judge the other people they meet in Nibiru.

The Letdown

My biggest letdown regarding Nibiru is not what it provides, but what it lacks: incentives for the characters to relate and depend on each-other. The players had no reason to turn to each-other while they were wrestling with their own personal emotions: I suppose thematically, they might have had a narrative reason to do so, but there was no mechanical prompt or reward.

It was rather easy to emotionally or physically isolate oneself from the group, working together when only you were in danger, but not sharing their memories or working through their lost paths together. In some games, like Thirsty Sword Lesbians, or Last Fleet, characters are drawn or pushed together, seeing each-other as resources or tools to use, but in either case forcing the characters to confront each-other’s vulnerabilities. Nibiru’s introspection makes for a rich character experience, but in isolation, and as a result it was more like telling four separate stories, than one cohesive one.

The Takeaway

One thing Nibiru reinforces for me is the fact that you don’t really need a backstory for a character in order to find them worth playing. And the themes introduced in Nibiru’s habitats have me thinking about how baking the themes of the game into the character backstory that you do have can tie your players more closely to the setting than otherwise. As amnesiacs, your characters have a solid reason not to know any of the lore, but the fact that the players know where their memories are coming from give them enough agency to hint towards the kind of stories they want to tell. Nibiru is a game about discovery: discovering who you are, and what the world around you is like.

Nibiru is also a game with plenty of space for tragic stories. Your character sheet has space for a number of symptoms that will start to affect your character should they take too much mental damage, and these symptoms can range from hearing voices to experiencing delusions. There's a lot about mental health and memory loss tied up in the mechanics of this game, which means that as a group you need to have a talk about what sorts of themes you're comfortable experiencing, and whether there's any consequences you need to avoid for safety reasons.

I think Nibiru has the potential to create a very emotional experience for your table, but I think that you have to play this game with folks who you can expect to naturally turn to each-other even as they introspect. Mechanically, it's beginner friendly, but when it comes to role-play, it demands a level of vulnerability that I'm not sure every table wants to have.

You can check out my spreadsheet play-kit for Nibiru here.

[milksockets]

selections from 'truisms' + 'the survival series' in jenny holzer - diane waldman (1989)

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows | A HSR Series

Inspired by the series “Alien Stage”, a twisted contest unfolds in a modern world where contestants are thrust into a deadly competition for survival. Captured from their everyday lives, they must showcase their talents in front of a ruthless audience. Each round demands they perform alongside a partner, with a horrifying twist: the weakest performer is executed on stage if they fail to outscore their duet partner. In this high-stakes game, alliances form and betrayals lurk, as each contestant grapples with the question of how far they will go to stay alive.

Introduction

In the shadows of the modern world, beneath the glittering lights of cities and the hum of everyday life, an underground competition thrives, known only to a select few: Stages of Shadows. A secret contest broadcast to the wealthiest, most twisted elites, Stages of Shadows is not just a test of talent—it is a fight for survival.

The contestants, snatched from various walks of life, are forced to participate in this deadly spectacle. Some volunteered out of desperation, others were coerced or tricked into joining. But once they’re inside, there’s no turning back. Each round pairs them into duets, demanding that they perform their hearts out in front of unseen, sadistic judges. They must sing, dance, or showcase any skill that might save their lives, because the rules are simple: if you score lower than your partner, you die.

The performances are brutal in their intensity. Every note, every step could be their last. The weakest performer of each duet is executed on stage, their death witnessed not only by the twisted audience but also by the remaining contestants—serving as a grim reminder of what’s at stake. Contestants must face the ultimate question: how far will they go to survive? Will they forge alliances, or will they sabotage others to stay ahead?

As the competition drags on, the psychological toll begins to unravel them. In this high-stakes game of survival, trust is scarce, and betrayal lurks behind every forced smile. Friendship becomes an illusion, with each contestant knowing that their partner today could be their executioner tomorrow. And while their bodies fight for survival, their spirits slowly break under the weight of the cruelty they are forced to endure.

Behind the scenes, the twisted elite who control this dark spectacle revel in the contestants' suffering, betting fortunes on who will live and who will die. For them, it is the ultimate entertainment—human lives reduced to a sick form of amusement. The contestants are nothing more than pawns, dancing on strings for their captors' amusement.

As the rounds progress, tensions rise, and the stakes grow deadlier. Every performance, every decision carries a fatal cost. The contestants must adapt or perish, knowing that mercy has no place on this stage. For some, it's a race against time to find a way out before they too meet a brutal end. For others, it's about embracing the chaos, willing to do whatever it takes to be the last one standing.

In Stages of Shadows, talent alone isn't enough. Survival demands ruthlessness, cunning, and the will to endure. Only one can win. The rest… will become nothing more than the final note of a deadly song.

[Navigation]

[luckyacid]

Jenny Holzer Untitled (Selections from Truisms, Inflammatory Essays, The Living Series, The Survival Series, Under a Rock, Laments, and Child Text), 1989 Tricolor L.E.D. electronic-display signboard Dimensions variable

[auraisereigh]

"Watching the stars"

Chapter two

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Now that Brennan and Star are hidden away from the world they find comfort in each other for the loss and grief theyre both feeling, all the while theyre supposed to survive in the wild. wc: 3.1k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Grief and loss, Survival. Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

Star's masterlist main masterlist

The next morning I wake up from a pitiful attempt to sleep.

Kind of hard with a dragon breathing down your neck.

It's still early, the sun barely up but after a week hiding in this cave and hunting in a selected area it looks and sounds like most people left Aretia. With other words I can start hunting in a larger area, after all it's difficult to keep a dragon satisfied.

Brennan is still asleep but Marbh is awake so he can give the message to him. I take my bow, arrows and my bag and leave.

If I'm quiet enough I should be able to get a good stack of food for us and the orange dragon that now lives in a cave way too small for it's ego. Most animals should still be out and not hiding, especially since it seems most people left. Animals will notice the silence and appear more.

☆

And animals guaranteed, enough for the three of us. I collected all the food by a tree closer to the cave so I don't have to keep dragging it all back in one go from a farther distance. I look in the direction of the cave, judging by the sun it should be around midday. Slowly one by one I put the animals in the huge bag I took with me, the one my dad packed for me In case something would go wrong... I stare at the bag, the memory still fresh in my mind.

"A survival bag?" I ask my dad, a small smile on my face as I raise my brows at him. "For what? You wanna do another camp trip? Friendly reminder that last time didn't go exactly as we planned." My voice holds amusement. But he looks... dead serious.

"I made it for you in case something goes wrong." My face falls. What is he talking about? "I... I don't understand. What could go wrong? I know we've had a few... things go wrong, but our army is in place. We're prepared." The way he looks at me says he hasn't been completely honest, which makes sense as Xaden and all the other children are gone, moved to a safe place that no one knows about.

"We might have put the army in place but that does not mean we will win when they attack. I'm not risking you getting captured. I have a proposal for you-"

I snap out of my trance, boot steps that crunch leaves and branches making me stand in high alert. It's not Brennan, it can't be. I pull an arrow and lay it on my bow, but I don't aim just yet. From where I'm standing no one can see me through the high bushes by the tree. So whoever is on the other side won't see me. More crunches of leaves. More than one person. I crouch down near the bushes when I hear them talking.

"I don't care how long it takes, I want you to find her." A deep, gruff voice says. "This place is ash. If she was still alive she would've burned when we burned her home." Another one responds, he sounds more on the frightened side. "She's his daughter, his heir and first in line, I want her to watch it happen." The first person bites out again. "Find her." Then all boot steps sound farther and farther away. I lower my bow, trying my best not to make a sound.

They're looking for me. Who? lies beyond me but someone is looking for me.

☆

I'm back by the cave when the sun slowly starts to fall.

Brennan is awake and sitting up against a rock, aside from small conversations we don't talk that much. I suppose he is also going through his own grief.

I drop the bag, making Brennan flinch. He must have been deep in thought. He looks up at me, his messy auburn curls sticking out everywhere. I know he's hungry but I know he won't voice it.

I get to work quietly. Unpacking, skinning and roasting the animals.

Good thing about having a dragon in here. Unlimited fire. And I don't have to put in a single effort except ask.

It's almost a routine now, I hunt, come back, unpack and make the animals ready, Marbh roasts them, we share and at the end of the night I put the fire out and we sleep.

☆

Two nights later Brennan and I sit quietly, eating, while Marbh enjoys some bigger meat I found. Your welcome.

"He always talked about you." Brennan's quiet, rough voice breaks through the fog in my mind. I look at him, my face not showing a single emotion of what I'm feeling.

"Naolin. He always talked about you." He is quiet for a moment and then continues. "Every time he received your letters, or when he wrote one for you. He would always talk about you. Memories, things that reminded him of you. When we sat outside watching the stars..."

A part of my heart cracks, I had kept Naolin from my Thoughts, not wanting to mourn now, I had to stay alive, I can't do both.

I don't respond. I continue eating quietly, not wanting to let my thoughts wander to too painful things.

☆

Over the following days Brennan and I find ourselves talking more, simple topics nothing too deep that could possibly open healing wounds. I managed to get him out of the cave yesterday to get some fresh air. We walked to a lake with a giant carrot following us. We sat down, enjoying the quiet sounds of the water.

With a dragon breathing down on me, cozy.

We're nearing two weeks here, we're both tired but it's too risky going to the open mountains near Riorson house, who knows what's waiting for us there.

☆

I didn't go hunting today, there was no need as I managed to get enough for a few days. It was an opportunity to actually get some sleep that I couldn't deny.

Somewhere in the evening I feel two hands shaking me slowly. I open my eyes, easily recognizing Brennan's face. He looks slightly panicked and before he can say something I hear an extra pair of Boot steps. I immediately take my bow that had been laying right next to me, an arrow close by as I aim at the figure. Was it the person who had been looking for me days prior?

I hold my aim, my eyes adjusting to the light. The figure doesn't move, it holds its hands up in, surrender? Peace?

My eyes finally adjust to the light. My eyes widen slightly as I take him in. My bow lowers and my hands shake slightly.

"Felix?"

☆

taglist: @honethatty12

I currently have five chapters finished for them and I'm also working on a playlist for them. <3

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Advanced Pack – 12 Longfic Recs

If you’ve made your way through the Tomarrymort Starter Pack and Intermediate Pack reads, here are 12 beautifully written, timeless fics that are Tomarrymort on hard mode for when you’re ready to dive into something that will really challenge your every reading muscle. This selection of fics features some of the most skilled writing I’ve come across in the entire fandom, and I love how these authors tackle incredibly complex subject matter and plotlines and characterization choices with such bold and unflinching perspectives.

Please mind all tags (including CCNTW, explained here) as you may find some themes within some of these fics difficult or challenging to read for a variety of reasons.

This is Part 3 of a 3-part series (see here for Part 1 and Part 2). I hope you get as much enjoyment from reading these additional 3.1 million words of incredible Tomarrymort longfic as I have!

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Tomarrymort Advanced Reads

ǟʟʍǟɢɛֆȶ by eldritcher (M, 134k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 6 Premise: If Harry and Dumbledore team up with Voldemort to save the magical world from a catastrophic threat. Why I rec it: Eldritcher delivers one of the most epic love stories of a lifetime — with Harry and Voldemort surviving a trip to the moon and back, and Harry’s love for Voldemort transcending time and space after Voldemort makes the ultimate sacrifice to save the world and, against all odds, return to Harry. The prose is absolutely transcendent — amongst the best I’ve encountered not only in fanfic, but in all of fiction I’ve ever read. I can’t say enough about how much I love Elditcher’s writing style and how beautifully the story unfolds — there’s a very nice lyrical rhythm underlying all the sentence structure and word choice in the fic that flows like nothing else I’ve read before.

Anabiosis by @itsevanffs (E, 32k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence Pre-Book 1 Premise: If Voldemort resurrects early and takes a teaching job at Harry’s primary school. Why I rec it: This is one of the best and most realistic and gutting depictions I’ve ever read of the quiet tragedy of Harry’s pre-Hogwarts years growing up experiencing severe neglect and an absence of love throughout his entire childhood. @itsevanffs did a magnificent job of capturing Harry’s limited POV and all the fluttering hope his still-trusting heart holds when he meets Mr Riddle, the first teacher who’s ever treated him with kindness. My heart ached so much for Harry throughout this fic, and the emotional arc in this story has continued to haunt me for a very long time afterwards.

Eight Days a Week by @vestiges-of-light (E, 802k, complete)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 7 Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry shortly after his sixth year, which leads to an unlikely truce and eventual partnership that ends up saving the magical world. Why I rec it: This fic combines a sprawling political epic with an incredibly extensive exploration of kink. The author asks a great question in the tags: "Why is only vanilla sex literary?" — and this fic does a fantastic job of proving that messy, filthy, raw sex scenes don’t have to be made sanitized or palatable for mainstream consumption in order to have just as much of a place in a plot-driven, serious longfic as vanilla sex does. Against the high-stakes backdrop of international political intrigue, there’s a very nice domesticity to Harry and Voldemort’s relationship, and how much they trust each other and can be stripped bare and vulnerable in front of each other is very poignant and touching to read about.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 28k, WIP)

Setting: Time Travel (1940s) Premise: If mysterious new transfer student Harry appears in Tom’s sixth year in a state of near complete amnesia. Why I rec it: One of the defining character traits of Tom Riddle is that he’s an absolute genius — the most talented academic mind to ever walk through the doors of Hogwarts — and this fic absolutely delivers on that aspect. Told from Tom’s POV, this fic is like reading a complex multidisciplinary text spanning philosophy and physics and mathematics and magical theory, all interconnected by the mystery of how Harry appeared and where he came from and why he is so utterly forgettable to everyone but Tom.

found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Tom grows up in a world with no magic, but has had strange recurring dreams his whole life — dreams of a boy with green eyes and a scar, dreams of a dark graveyard and magical snakes and other mysterious things. Why I rec it: The character work done in this fic is absolutely breathtaking — one of the best character studies of Tom Riddle I’ve ever come across. This is a Tom who grew up without magic, but is no less cold and vicious and psychopathic and teetering on the edge of madness. The story arc follows Tom from his early childhood through his rise as a ruthless leader in an organized crime syndicate not unlike the Death Eaters — all the while that he’s haunted by dreams of Harry, his Harry, even as the dreams start to drive him to the brink of insanity.

how large the teeth by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 257k, complete)

Setting: Voldemort Wins AU Premise: If Harry grows up as an outcast in a world where Grindelwald and Voldemort have already won long before he is born, but he’s still the subject of a prophecy that designates him as their world’s savior. Why I rec it: The worldbuilding is so exquisite and complex in this fic — the author did a spectacular job at completely reimagining the wizarding world from the ground up if the Dark Lord were to win a long time ago and how their extremely inequitable society would subsequently be structured. Harry’s defiance throughout is lovely, and his growing entanglement with Voldemort adds to all the high-stakes and risky moves that he makes throughout the fic. The plotline is very action-packed — a lot of complex plot threads are interwoven throughout the story, with an undercurrent of revolution and discontent simmering under the surface until it explodes in a glorious finale.

In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 1,197k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 4 Premise: If Harry finds Voldemort in Riddle Manor the summer before his fourth year, and enters into an unlikely alliance with him before returning to school that year. Why I rec it: This fic covers so much ground — at 1.2 million words (so far!), it’s the most detailed rewrite of canon starting from book 4 that I’ve ever come across, weaving in plenty of magical theory and political intrigue as Voldemort takes Harry under his protection initially in a mentor capacity. The relationship between Harry and Voldemort unfolds in such a beautiful way in this fic — with Harry growing to fall in love with Voldemort, despite all of Voldemort’s murderous and violent qualities, without losing an ounce of his humanity or the inherent goodness inside of his heart along the way.

Lover's Spit by @blogalinda, @k3uuu (E, 88k, WIP)

Setting: Non-Magical AU Premise: If Harry and Tom grow up in a small town together in northern England, and Tom has harbored an obsession for Harry ever since primary school. Why I rec it: An absolutely stunning coming-of-age story set in modern times. This story is striking in so many different ways. It perfectly captures the voice of fringe internet communities in such an authentic way. It also poignantly captures the social isolation and erosion of privacy from living in a small town where gossip spreads like wildfire, and how the internet amplifies these dynamics. At the core of the story is a really sweet love story between Tom and Harry that I am literally obsessed with — every single one of their interactions is so tender and pure — and it’s such a startling contrast to how Tom’s internet persona is portrayed that makes the sweetness all the more heartfelt.

Mi Aedijekit by @kitastrophea (M, 282k, WIP)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Harry is captured by Voldemort and placed under the Draught of Living Death, only to awaken in the far future where Voldemort has ruled over their world for over a thousand years. Why I rec it: A linguistic and sociological tour de force. When Harry wakes up from his magical coma over a thousand years into the future, the world has been entirely transformed, and the skill and effort that the author undertook in fleshing out a society where there’s been a thousand years of cultural change and evolution in language can’t be understated. One of the most unique and fun aspects of the story is learning the new vocabulary of the future alongside Harry for the first time. I love how the fic examines how even Voldemort gets bored with immortality after a millennia of ruling — and how, even with a thousand years separating them and memories of the earlier times scattered to the wind, Harry and Voldemort are still inextricably drawn together.

Of Kings, Of Pawns, and Of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 129k, WIP)

Setting: Canon Divergence – Book 5 Premise: If Voldemort ends up in Harry’s body and Harry ends up in Tom Riddle’s body after a bad encounter with the dementors at the beginning of book 5, and they can’t figure out how to swap back. Why I rec it: This is such an interesting take on the bodyswap trope, which is given a very serious and plotty treatment here. For fear of the safety of his friends, Harry has to go along with returning to his 5th year at Hogwarts in Tom Riddle’s body and being sorted into Slytherin house, while Tom passes himself off as Harry Potter. There’s a mystery behind the depth of Tom’s knowledge and familiarity with Harry, as he knows more about Harry than even Voldemort should. Is it the scar horcrux? Is it Voldemort? Is it something else entirely? The inherent combativeness and magnetism between Harry and Tom keep the tension high as they push each other’s buttons and circle around each other like wolves trying to establish dominance.

Phobia by @katsitting (E, 48k, complete)

Setting: Post-Canon Premise: If Voldemort captures Harry and brutally tortures him to the point of breaking. Why I rec it: This fic does not sugarcoat Voldemort’s capacity for cruelty and sadism in any way, and I admire the author’s commitment to depicting the most horrific of scenarios. Having read countless fics with this setup, I’ll be honest, the depiction in this fic is probably the most likely outcome of any Voldemort-captures-Harry scenario. They do not fall in love. It is not a fun time for Harry. There is gore; there is brutal prisoner torture; there is extremely extensive non-con. I found it very raw and unvarnished — not an easy read, but a very memorable and evocative one. And yet, despite the themes of darkness explored in this fic, it ends on a note of hope.

The Foul (part 1) / The Great (part 2) by @meles-merrivale (M, 24k, complete)

Setting: Time Travel Premise: If Harry gets thrown back in time a thousand years into the past, and does whatever it takes to stay alive until he can meet up with Voldemort again. Why I rec it: This is a fantastic depiction of the slow descent into madness following a disastrous time travel accident and what a thousand years of immortality does to one’s sanity. It’s also a great exploration of the time travel paradox and whether anyone has the power to change the past, or if pivotal historical events are, by their very nature, predetermined. By the time Harry encounters Voldemort again, he is a shell of the person he used to be, but gradually, he finds more of his original humanity and spark for life the more his relationship with Voldemort progresses.

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